Bubblegum Collision
A Bubblegum Crisis fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves
Part Three - Rough Roads
"What a waste," Linna lamented as they changed back to normal
clothes. "All that trouble and we didn't get anything out of it."
"Didn't we?" Sylia asked. "We no longer have to worry with the
mercenary, at least not for now, and Genom lost their reactor prototype."
"And all the plans to it," Nene added. "What little bit of their records I
saw indicated that the only copy was in that computer."
"And we got to kick a little ass while we were at it," interjected Priss,
actually smiling for once.
"Also, we got our first glimpse of the new thirty-four CX boomer,"
continued Sylia.
"Those are going to be real trouble when they start producing them in
numbers, Sylia," Linna pointed out.
"I know. At least we may have set them back a little."
"I hope so."
* * * * * * * * *
"Well, I got what I wanted," Christine smiled wearily as she popped the
seals on the battlesuit. As usual, Dr. Boston extended his hand to help her out,
and to his amazement, she actually accepted.
"You look tired, Chris," he commented, looking her over.
"Drained is more like it."
"You did the right thing."
"Huh? Oh, that. It was just instinct. If I'd thought about it, I don't
know if I'd have warned them or not. Maybe it will help settle things, though.
I don't need to fight Genom and the Knight Sabers both; this is troublesome
enough as it stands."
"Perhaps you should consider joining forces."
"After I tried to kill them? I think not."
He shrugged. "Whatever. This is your expertise, not mine. I just
thought that they would make a useful ally."
"Possibly. Just because we aren't trying to kill each other doesn't mean
we're the best of friends. I still don't think they care for me much."
* * * * * * * * *
"All right, Nene. What did you get."
"Enough to see that we can't use it."
Sylia nodded. "I'll take a look at it anyway, but I suspected that would
be the case. Still, we had to try."
"If this project was that secret, how did we find out about it?"
"Need-to-know, Nene. You know better than to ask questions like
that."
"Sorry. Well, I have some things to do, so I'd better go."
"Of course... you did well tonight, Nene."
"Thanks."
* * * * * * * * *
Getting on her scooter, Nene decided not to go straight home for a
change. The night air was cool and comforting, and it soothed her restless
heart. As she rode around the streets, she considered the recent events in her
life. Stopping at a park, or at least as close to a park as Megatokyo could
manage, she just started walking through the trees.
"Why are you so angry?" she asked herself. "What, truly, has
changed?" Looking at her cybernetic hand, which even she could not tell from
the real one, she had to admit that there was not really that much difference.
Still, the knowledge that it WAS artificial smoldered in her heart like an ember
that would not die, waiting to start a new flame.
Tonight, for the first time, she had really felt the fire, and it had hurt
her. Never before had she reveled in violence; never before had she wanted to
cause pain. She had heard the ice in her own voice when they confronted the
mercenary, and she had taken pleasure in it. Now, the knowledge brought her
only pain.
"You did well tonight, Nene," Sylia's voice echoed in her mind. Was
anger the cost of victory? Did true success require the sacrifice of peace?
"No!" her mind rebelled at the thought, but still the question haunted her.
Images of the moment that she was wounded, the sting of pain, the satisfaction
of destroying a boomer... the sensations flooded her mind, and she could not
shut them out.
Many hours passed before she found her way home, and even then, her
sleep was consumed with nightmares.
* * * * * * * * *
Christine, too, was facing new questions. For the first time in her life,
she had seen something which she had always known - that which was
business to her was personal to others. For three years, she had spent her life
hunting down people for money, deriving her pleasure from the challenge of
the hunt and the trial of combat. Most of the time, they had been people who
deserved death at the very least. Often, the death she brought was less than
they deserved. This, however, was not always the case.
In the past, her victims had never come back to haunt her. Usually, she
never even saw them. She found herself regretting her tap into the Knight
Sabers' communications this night. Their scrambling was good... almost
indecipherable, but she had managed to capture a few words. One of these was
a name.
Nene.
It had not taken much effort to assign an identity to that name. She had
determined the first time that the one she had wounded was their electronics
specialist, and once she eliminated those who lacked the ability, she had found
what she sought. Immediately, she wished she hadn't looked.
"Why did I have to hurt the young one?" she asked herself desperately,
looking at the bio on the screen in front of her. The comments on her police
file were glowing; her personality evaluation spoke of youthful innocence and
vitality. The voce she had heard this night held none of those. "Dear Lord,
what have I done.?"
"An attack of conscience, Chris?" a soft, familiar voice sounded from
the doorway. Angered by his choice of words, she wanted to strike at him, but
she found she lacked the will to do so. Turning to face him, she saw only
concern in his eyes. Almost unwillingly, she nodded.
"Please forgive me for saying this, but this had to happen eventually.
You aren't hardened enough for the job you do, thankfully."
"It's not that...," she protested, indicating the screen. "She's just a
child."
"And she reminds you of yourself."
Christine hesitated. "Yes," she whispered.
"And you would never willingly push anyone to what you have
become."
Christine froze. "You... know?"
"That you long for a normal life? An escape from your anger? Chris, I
could never have not known. I remember when you were the innocent child,
before the accident, before the hatred. I remember the pain when your life fell
apart. I wanted to help you... but you wouldn't let me."
A tear formed in her eye, "I know. I'm sorry."
He put his arms around her. "I love you, Chris. I've never said it, but
it's always been true."
Crying softly, she held him close. He sat with her long into the night.
* * * * * * * * *
Priss clicked on the television, and the late, late news was on. "Well,
let's see what they have to say about our little adventure earlier." Several
minutes of weather and stock-market reports passed, then they came around to
the real news.
"Earlier to night, a fiery explosion consumed a Genom research facility
just outside of Megatokyo. The blaze, which began at approximately eleven
o'clock, completely destroyed the complex, an alternative-energy research
station. Genom claims that the fire was caused by a power spike in one of the
laboratories, but eyewitnesses report that several armored figures were visible
on the roof shortly after the fires broke out. Could this be the work of the
elusive Knight Sabers, or is it possibly a retaliation attack for the assault on the
Stevenson estate last week? AD Police officials declined to comment on the
situation, saying only that an investigation is underway."
"Well, looks like we're going to get blamed for this one. Genom says it
was an alternative-energy research facility this time."
"That's closer to the truth than they usually get," Linna laughed.
"Besides, we already get blamed for everything that happens in this city. I
don't think anyone believes it anymore, or else the AD Police would be after
us."
"Good thing we have an inside contact."
"That's for certain. I'm worried about her, though. She seems...
different."
"Angry?"
"Yes, but more than that... she was very cold tonight."
"She'll get over it."
"You haven't yet."
* * * * * * * * *
Alone in the databank room, Sylia studied the reactor designs, looking
for ways to fill in the gaps. The reactor itself was all there, but the coolant
system was mostly absent, and the demands upon it would be very high. It
seemed that Nene was right... the system was useless to them.
"Nene..." she whispered as her thoughts turned to the young woman
who had made this possible. Images flashed through her mind at lightning
speed, images and sounds t match. There was no mistaking the cold hatred in
Nene's voice when they had confronted Miss Stevenson. "Stevenson... didn't
she have another name? Ah, well.. I can come back to that later." The anger
had been visible in battle, as well. Quite possibly, it had saved them at least
once, as Nene's aggression surprised the boomers. Still, Sylia was concerned
about the reckless manner of Nene's attacks; on more than one occasion, she
had completely neglected her own defense, unnecessarily. Tonight it had been
successful, but tomorrow it could be fatal. Clearly, this was a matter that
needed to be addressed.
Pulling up another file, Sylia examined the readouts. Nene's hardsuit
was crammed with electronic warfare gear, so much so that even the power of
her suit's arm-laser had been reduced from standard to accommodate. It might
be possible to increase the level of armor, but more than a slight increase
would impair her movement and was unacceptable.
"Perhaps if..." she thought, an idea beginning to form in her mind, and
she immediately copied the file for modification. "It just might work."
* * * * * * * * *
"James?" Christine asked as she looked through the files she had
downloaded the previous night.
"Yes?" he responded, walking over to the terminal.
"Take a look at this," she said, indicating the blueprints she had pulled
up on the screen.
Dr. Boston whistled. "Tech data on the new Genom modular weapons-mount system... that could be useful."
"This is one of the two major innovations of the Thirty-four CX boomer
class. It allows them to mount several different combinations of weapons for
different missions, all interchangeable in a matter of minutes."
"Impressive."
"Unfortunately, yes," Christine frowned. "This is going to present a
real challenge for us. It won't be so easy to tell what's coming anymore."
"How long until the new type goes into general production?"
"Not long enough."
* * * * * * * * *
Smiling, Sylia looked over Nene's newly modified hardsuit. In
appearance it was almost identical to its predecessor, but the new version as
significantly improved. A new shell material improved its performance against
all forms of physical attack with only a minor mass gain, and boosting the
strength-enhancers in the limbs would more than compensate. The energy-deflection qualities were slightly reduced, but given Nene's new tendency
toward close-in fighting, Sylia considered that an acceptable trade-off. Still,
another layer of the energy-reflective coating might be worth the additional
weight; she would have to consider it.
The major deficiency of this suit was still in the area of weapons.
Nene's laser was really too small to do real damage to a boomer's armor, but
there was simply no room inside the shell for a larger one. Even if the space
could be found, the electronics of the armor used up most of the reactor power.
Therein lay the difficulty; Nene's hardsuit was not designed for direct
combat. From the time she had signed on with the Knight Sabers, she had
always shied from battle, and her suit reflected that. Packed as tightly as
possible with electronics, it had little room for anything else. Seeing the need
for some weapon, simply to provide defense, Sylia had squeezed in the
reduced-power laser, but an upgrade was out of the question.
One possible solution had occurred to her. If another member of the
team could handle part of Nene's responsibilities, it would free up space and
power for a larger weapon. Unfortunately, none of the others was qualified to
do any of the tasks which could be reassigned. Even Sylia herself could not
adequately handle all of them, and certainly not in addition to her own tasks.
This realization had brought Sylia to a new respect for Nene. The
youngest of the Knight Sabers possessed a remarkable intelligence and an
amazing affinity for computer systems. She was indeed an invaluable asset,
and had proven herself so many times over. Also, Sylia cared for her
especially among her "family". Her youthful exuberance took some of the
weight out of Sylia's responsibilities and helped her to appreciate life
sometimes. When the temptation to put away all her emotions was strong, it
was usually Nene who would save her.
With those thoughts, Sylia resolved that she would solve this problem.
She would not see Nene harmed again; she would not fail her again. She
would find a way - of this she was certain.
* * * * * * * * *
Christine was alone. While not exactly unusual in and of itself, this
fact seemed particularly apparent to her, in a way that it had not in years. The
solitude was almost tangible; it felt as if it had crept up on her and wrapped
itself around her like an old, familiar blanket.
There was once a time when she would have liked this feeling. She
had always been prone to dark moods, though much less so before her parents
had died, and over the years she had come to savor them. It was at times like
these when they came... alone, in an unlit bedroom, where she had nothing to
do but think.
Introspection was sometimes pleasant for her. There were certainly
things about herself that she liked; she had drive, determination, and
intelligence; she was confident in her own abilities, and she had enjoyed her
work over the years. At other times, though, it was painful. Dark memories
haunted her; the death of her parents had seared her heart. She knew that she
could be cold, and cruel. She had dreams of her own death, lying in the
remains of her shattered armor and wondering if she had wasted her life. This
time, it was the latter case.
The questions came again; "Why do I do this?" she asked herself. The
old familiar answer came, but it now rang hollow. The voice of the young
Knight Saber replaced it, accusing her. Her own words followed, "Dear Lord,
what have I done?" Darkness closed in around her, threatening to consume
her. She started to scream-
-And sat bolt upright in her bed. Breathing heavily, she gasped, "It was
only a dream... only a dream..." Tapping her bedside intercom, she asked,
"James?"
"Yes, Chris?" came the response.
"Good, he's awake," she thought, then asked, "Can we talk for a few
minutes?"
"Anytime you like."
"Thanks."
* * * * * * * * *
It took several hours, but eventually she went back to sleep. As she
prepared for bed, she began to realize that perhaps she cared for the doctor
more than she had thought. Plenty of time for that in the morning, though, she
decided, drifting off to sleep.
She awoke with a start - the alarm had been triggered! Looking out the
window, she couldn't see anything suspicious, but she ran down towards the
garage anyway. Just as she entered the last hallway, the door was blown
inward, the blast wave throwing her backwards. Climbing to her feet, she
sprinted to the now ruined chamber.
"JAMES!" she screamed, seeing him collapsed against one of the walls.
Running to him as quickly as she could manage through the debris, she knelt
beside him. Seeing that she had come, he raised his head. His eyes were
glazed, and blood trickled from his mouth as he opened it to speak.
"Chris... I love you... I always have. Never forget."
"No, James... I love you... they can't take you away, too!" she cried in
desperation.
"I... love... you," he managed, then slumped forward.
Looking at him, she immediately knew that she could not save him.
Holding his hand in hers, she just sat there and wept.
******************
END PART THREE
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