Well, here's part 3. This part is unfinished, and very draft.
Also, part of it was written by Twister. 

	#insert $very_humble_bow

	THANK YOU TWISTER!!

	Here's a contest for the list.. try to guess which parts Twister
wrote!

 I'd also like to thank the following people who sent me C & C, and
various suggestions, as well as compliments:

	Barry Cadwgan (thank you for the c&c, Barry, as well as the ideas)

	Peter Schell (Pete, Twister's 'Twisted Path' stories can be found
                      in the raac archive, as well as Twister's home page)
	Jim Franks

	Thomas Jefferys aka Wrym/Wrym-chan/H-wrym (that scene you sent me
        was bloody hilarious! I wanna use it!! Please?!)

	Mike Loader (yes.. I HAVE been reading _Bored of the Rings_! 8^)

	Stanley Teriaca

	And.... the famous Kergma, the Chaotic Trickster!

	Thank you all, and I hope to hear from you all again on this part. 

	And now, on with the show!

	Ed Becerra

	"Dreamers may die, but the dream is eternal..."

===========================================================================


                    ***********************************

   "I'll never be an angel/I'll never be a saint, it's true/I'm too busy
    surviving/Whether it's heaven or hell/I'm gonna be living to tell.."
      - Madonna, "Survival", _Bedtime Stories_

   The next day, Sylvie and Anri could sense the difference in Ed. A huge
grin covered his face, and occasionally, he'd stare into empty space and
chuckle.

   They were having lunch at his place again, and Sylvie noted the small
works of art that he was using to slowly fill the empty spaces in his
apartment. "Ed.. why haven't you come to us if you want some art? We'd be
happy to help. After all, we're friends. We'd have been happy to help you."

   He started to speak, then stopped with his mouth half-open. "Ahh.. Would
you believe it never even crossed my mind?!" He slapped himself on the
forehead. "Quote from the Three Stooges - 'I'm tryin' ta think, but nuttin'
happins'!'"

   The two women giggled. "You aren't _that_ bad, Ed," smiled Anri. "Just
sort of." She stood and walked over to the wall, where two small pencil
sketches hung. "Did you do these, Ed? I've never seen these before. They're
very beautiful." Sylvie joined her and they both looked closely at the
pictures. Two different women, one depicted as an elegant vampire, the other
as a anthropomorphic cheetah. They jumped, and turned around when they heard
a glass shatter.

   A puddle of ice tea had spread over the tabletop from Ed's glass as he
looked at the sketches with pain in his eyes. "No. I didn't." He looked down
numbly. "I'd better wipe this up. Don't want to make a mess."

   Sylvie rushed to his side, grabbing his arm. "Sit down, you idiot! Let me
see your hand. You've probably cut yourself badly..." She blinked in
astonishment at his uninjured palm. "How..?" Suspicion colored her voice.
"You're a boomer," she said flatly. Anri edged closer to the door, ready to
make a run for it.

   He just sat and stared at the wall. Several minutes went by tensely. "No.
Not a boomer, m'lady. Although I might have been better off if I were." He
finally blinked, and looked over at them. "And before you say what you're
thinking, no. I'm not a trap set for you by Genom, either. Not that Genom
would even try, after the scare Darlene threw into them."

   "You _know_ about that?" gasped Anri.

   "Yes. Just as I know that the two of you are sexaroids, and that you
occasionally keep company with the Knight Sabers, the Crystal Knight and the
Elf. But those are _your_ secrets. They're not mine to share." His lips
twisted into a bitter smile. "I was right. I should never have bought a shop
so close to you two. All it did was cause trouble."

   Sylvie still looked at him warily. "Who and what are you? And how did you
know those things about us?"

   "That's a very long story, Sylvie. One that's also very hard to believe.
Even for me."

   She pulled over a chair from the dinner table, turning it around and
crossing her arms over the back. "We're waiting."

   He nodded soberly. "S'beit, then. By your leave, m'lady. It was a little
over twenty years ago, in a little town in northeastern Colorado..."

                                   * * *

   An hour and a half later, the two sexaroids were staring at Ed with
astonishment in their eyes. Sylvie shook her head, stunned. "I've never
heard anything like that before. Except possibly for what happened to
Darlene."

   "At least what happened to Twister was a true accident, Sylvie. I walked
into that laboratory with my eyes open and wide awake," sighed Ed bitterly.
"I knew, or _thought_ I knew, what I was doing and I _still_ managed to
shoot myself in the foot."

   "Are.. are you still human?" asked Anri.

   "Anri!" Sylvie exclaimed, embarrassed. "How could you ask something like
that?"

   They were both surprised to hear Ed laughing. "No offence taken, m'lady."
A faint note of hysteria colored his laughter. "She hasn't asked anything I
haven't already asked myself for decades now. And for what it's worth, the
answer is - I don't know."

   Sylvie looked at him closely. "Why are you here, Ed?"

   He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'm here because this was the last
place I know of that Twister had also been to. I'm _not_ a mage. Aside from
what very little a certain one of my otherselves knows about magic, I'm
completely ignorant about it. I'd hoped.." He stopped and took a deep breath
before continuing. "I'd hoped that by staying near to you two, I might find
an opportunity to approach Twister and beg for Darlene's help. Science
hasn't been able to find my home short of trial and error. Perhaps magic
could succeed where science has failed."

   The women looked at him, thinking. 

   He cleared his throat. "And as long as I'm being honest here, you should
know this as well. I'm the person the ADPolice is looking for in that case
involving White Wolf's bar."

   Sylvie raised an eyebrow and Anri's eyes went wide. "That was you?" Anri
gasped. "You're the one who tore that boomer apart bare-handed?"

   Ed nodded. "That was me. The disappearing trick was pulled with the help
of the ship I mentioned." He smacked himself on the side of the head. "Jesus
X. Bushmaster! If brains were gunpowder, I wouldn't have enough to blow my
own nose! Minerva, my dear, feel free to introduce yourself to the ladies."

   A warm, musical soprano filled the room. "Greetings, Sylvie and Anri. I
am Minerva, an Autonomous Computer Intelligence. I serve as the brains
behind Ed's ship, the 'Calypso'. And I generally try to keep him from making
an utter fool of himself. Not that I'm very successful at that, most of the
time."

   Ed groaned, while the three females laughed. "Just what I need. A
feminist critique of my life. Thank you, Susan B. Anthony."

   After the giggles stopped, Sylvie spoke up. "So.. where do we go from
here?"

   Ed shrugged. "It seems to me that it would be in your own best interests
to avoid me. I tend to attract trouble. Minerva tells me it's because I'm a
`focus of probability'. Reality tends to.. get weird, when I'm around."

   Both women shook their heads. "We don't just abandon our friends, Ed,"
said Anri. "Hmmm.. Edward Anthony - Anthony Edwards.. I see. So you wouldn't
slip up when someone called you by name, right?"

   He nodded. "I was afraid if I took a totally different name, I might not
notice when someone called me. That would start people wondering, if they're
the suspicious type." He looked back at Sylvie. "Will you be telling the
Knight Sabers about me?"

   Sylvie shook her head. "Why should we?"

   Ed bit his lip. "Well.. I'm arguably the most powerful single being in
the city at the moment, I own a starship that could burn Mega-Tokyo to the
ground and leave nothing behind but a smoking crater, and I have Genom, the
ADPolice, the USSD, and Fortuna knows _how_ many other groups after me in
order to pry the so-called `secret' of teleportation out of me." He winced.
"I'm bad news walking, ladies. A natural disaster on two legs. The sensible
thing to do when you see me coming is to dig a hole, jump in, and pull it in
after yourself."

   Sylvie looked angrily at him. "Will you _stop_ that? Anri already _told_
you, we DON'T give up on our friends. If you've read about us in that story
you told us about, you should know that already."

   Minerva spoke up. "They've got you there, B'wana."

   "No commentary from the peanut gallery, please." He sighed. "But you're
right. If you aren't going to give up on me, I can't give up on myself.
But.. why NOT tell the Sabers?"

   "You said it first, Ed.. It's _your_ secret. Not ours. Your privacy is
safe with us."

   He closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you." A tired smile crossed his
face. "And as for your original question, Anri... No. I didn't do those
sketches. A friend from days long past did them for me. Shou listened as I
described Natasha and Ailuro, then he did those for me." He waved a hand at
the pictures. "They're a.. remembrance of my past. And fortune willing, a
hope for my future." He looked down at the table. "Looks like we let lunch
grow cold while we were talking. Heh. Tell you what. Let's find a restaurant
and have an early dinner. My treat."
   
                                   * * *
   
   Late that night, he came home to the shop, and walked upstairs to the
apartment. He felt.. odd, somehow.

   Reflecting upon his feelings, he came to a realization. *Sylvie and Anri
are my friends. And I _HATE_ lying to my friends. No matter _what_ the
reason. It makes me feel dirty. Now.. now I feel clean again.*

                    ***********************************

Personal Log: Entry 131, Year 20.

   Well, I seem to have developed a bit of a reputation in the weeks since
Sylvie and Anri discovered the truth about me. I've been out hunting muggers
at least three nights a week, and sometimes more. Heh. What can I say? It's
good, clean fun! And vastly entertaining.

   Needless to say, the number of muggings has dropped rather dramatically
in that time. I had to have Minerva snoop in the THP and ADP systems just so
I could find some more muggers to play with. They've been going into hiding,
lately. I _wonder_ why?! HA!

   I've had some close calls, though.. and that _DAMNED_ nickname stuck to
me like superglue! Everyone in Mega-Tokyo is calling the mysterious
vigilante `Goldeneyes', and that's got the THP, the ADPolice, Genom and the
Knight Sabers following me around like a pack of cybernetic bloodhounds. Not
that the first two are any real problem - with their budgetary restraints,
they can't catch me. They can barely catch a cold, poor fellows. Genom and
the Knight Sabers, however.. they're an different story.

   Genom's been filling the streets with undercover buma, and has even used
some as fake muggers and fake victims to set traps for me. They've managed
to find me at least four times now. All they got for their troubles,
however, were several lessons in the practical difficulties involved in
successfully capturing and restraining a meta-human.

   Lucky they don't know my other identity, or they'd send me a bill for all
the boomers I've trashed.

   As for the Sabers? Ouch. They _have_ been showing up close on my heels.
Faster than their advanced suits and technology can account for. I had
Minerva maintain a constant scan around my location the last time I went
out, and she noted four small energy signatures just before they appeared to
confront me. Signatures that were much weaker but otherwise identical to
that of Charcoal's. Could they be using something Darlene gave them to
_magically_ transport to my location? There _was_ something in the last
story about her giving them a way to teleport to and from the cavern she
built.

   I have to do something about this. I can't keep evading them forever. I'm
just not skilled enough.

   Goddess, it's frustrating...

End Log Entry 131, Year 20

                    ***********************************

   "Come quietly or there will be... trouble."
      - Alex Murphy, "Robocop"

   Sylvie looked up as the door to "Flights of Fantasy" opened. "Oh.. hello,
Ed! Anything we can do for you?"

   "I'm going to be gone for a bit. I'm getting sick and tired of walking
around Mega-Tokyo, so I'm heading down to Motor Vehicle Registration. They
tell me it takes a little more than the usual paperwork when you want to
register an imported vehicle, so I need to get an early start." He walked
over to the counter, carefully avoiding Charcoal, and handed her a duplicate
set of keys for his bookstore. "Could you watch over the book store for me?
I've put up the 'Closed' sign, so it won't take much."

   "We'd be happy to." She thought for a minute, then leaned over the
counter and spoke quietly. "Are you going.. hunting.. tonight?"

   In the same tone he replied, "Yes.. is there a problem?"

   She looked at him, worried. "Maybe. Priss was just over, swearing up a
storm. She told me.."

   Ed sagged. "Let me guess.. tonight the Knight Sabers are DEFINITELY going
to capture the Mystery Vigilante, right?"

   Sylvie nodded. "That was all she would talk about. That, and how she was
going to get her revenge on him for making her look so foolish."

   He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger and
began to massage it roughly. "Goddess. If it's not one thing, it's another.
I can't win for losing!"

   "Perhaps you shouldn't go out tonight?"

   "What? And disappoint Priss?" He laughed. "Don't worry, m'lady.. they
can't hurt me, and I think I know a way to avoid being captured. I promise.
I won't do _anything_ to risk either myself or the Sabers."

                                   * * *

   "I do not _BELIEVE_ how much paperwork I just had to go through for just
One. Bloody. CAR! What? Do they _live_ on paperwork down at the DMV?" raved
Ed quietly, as he got on a bus for the apartment. His fellow passengers gave
the gaijin odd looks, but left him alone for the most past.

   {Got to expect that, boss. It's just as bad anywhere else. Bureaucrats
hate things that disturb the red tape. The rare and unusual tends to do
that. And you've got to admit.. Christine is both rare and unusual.}

   He rolled his eyes, exasperated. {She isn't _that_ unusual a car, pretty
lady..}

   {Boss.. Do you _really_ believe what you just said? Don't you remember
_where_ you got her?}

   {You know I don't like thinking about that, m'dear.}

   {Exactly. And installing that extra circuitry was not a good idea.}

   He sighed. {Okay. You're right. But she was my favorite ride until you
came along, love.. I felt I owed her something for all the years of faithful
service.} He sent the mental equivalent of a shrug through the link. {Silly
of me, perhaps. And yet..} His mind drifted through memories, and Minerva
dropped the conversation. He spent the rest of the bus ride in quiet
contemplation.

                                   * * *

   After picking the keys back up from Sylvie, he invited the two women over
to watch him get ready for a night on the town. As they walked over to `Rare
Books', Anri noted the car parked in front. She commented on it.

   "That's an old car, isn't it?"

   Ed grinned. "Yes, and one of my favorites. It's nearly as old as I am. A
Mercury Capri, German-built in 1975. It has a 2.8 litre engine, a five speed
manual transmission, and a few.. extras I installed over the past twenty
years." He chuckled. "Space travel isn't _anywhere_ as glamourous as it's
portrayed in the media. In fact, at times, it's downright dull. So, I'd work
on Christine as a hobby."

   "Christine?" asked Sylvie. "You named your car?"

   He nodded. "After the car in the Steven King novel. The first few years I
owned her, she gave me plenty of grief. Yet I loved her anyway. Hence the
name."

   Both women laughed. "Ed.. you have a strange sense of humor," Anri said.

   "That's what they tell me, m'lady."

   Sylvie just shook her head in exasperation.

   "Come on in. I want you to see this." He waved the two into the shop.
"You've asked about that piece of sculpture in my living room several times.
Now you'll see what it's there for!"

   When they reached the apartment, Ed pointed at the large round stone
piece. "Minerva, dear?"

   "Right, boss." As they watched, the sexaroids saw a small ripple develop
in the center of the 2 meter tall stone circle. It began to grow, and fill
the entire space. When it stopped, Sylvie and Anri could see something on
the other side that _wasn't_ the wall behind it.

   "What is that?!" asked Sylvie. She turned to see a self-satisfied smirk
on her friend's face.

   "It's a Thorens-P'wheet Probability broach. A little piece of time/space
skipping technology some friends gave me. That's the main cargo hold of the
Calypso on the other side. Take a single step, and you travel from this room
to my ship, currently in geosynchronious orbit." A smirk filled his face.
"Nice for shortening travel time, don't you think?"

   As he spoke, a small four-wheeled 'bot rolled through the hole and
deposited a small bundle on the floor. Then it rolled back into the ship,
and the broach rippled shut once more. Ed picked up the bundle and shook it
out, revealing a leather coat, a tremendously ugly cowboy hat, and a pair of
metal forearm bracers. Reaching into a pocket of the coat, he withdrew a
black silk handkerchief with two small eyeholes cut into it. He tied it
around his head, covering his scalp and the top of his face, knotting it in
the back. "What do you think?"

   Anri took one look, and began to whoop with laughter. Sylvie just grinned
and pointed a finger at him. "Zorro lives."

   He made a sour face at her. "Surely it isn't _that_ bad.."

   "It's worse. And don't call me Shirley."

   "Arrrgh! A touch! A touch! I'm cut to the quick!"

   He picked up the pair of armored braces. "Here's the real trick of it.
Minerva got the idea for these from an old comic book villain called
'Bloodsport'." He strapped them on. "I've been told I have a lot of powers,
but I can't seem to to get the hang of using any of them, aside from the
strength and the invulnerability. And you never really know when a weapon or
two might come in handy, so..." He made an odd motion with one hand and a
large pistol suddenly appeared in his fist. "Taaa-dahhh!"

   Anri clapped. "How'd you do that?"

   He smiled. "Aside from providing armor that I don't really need, each
bracer is a direct link to a transporter pad installed in the armory aboard
my ship." He made another movement, and the pistol vanished. "I can simply
`reach' into my arsenal for whatever weapon that best fits the situation.
And I don't have to worry about running out of ammunition. The `magazines'
of each gun are really very small Broaches, linked to _bins_ full of ammo in
the armory."

   Sylvie looked intrigued. "That could make a person almost unstoppable,
provided they had a wide enough assortment of weapons."

   Ed nodded. "Yup.. first time I tried these, I used a pair of Ingram
MAC-10's in .45 caliber. Unlike most folks, I could hold them on target in
spite of the recoil, and I never had to change magazines or ran out of ammo.
Bullets flying everywhere." He laughed. "I forgot one thing."

   "What's that?" she asked.

   "Gun barrels melt."

   Both women smiled at him. "Does Minerva ever tell you that you can be
just a little dense at times, Ed?" asked Anri.

   "All the bloody time."

   The ACI aforementioned made a rude noise. "That's because you _need_ a
woman to take care of you, b'wana. By the way, I installed the new circuitry
in the belt. So you won't have to worry about the Sabers getting hurt if
they jump you."

   "Ah! Thank you, pretty lady! That should solve the problem nicely."

   "What should?" Anri inquired.

   "_This_ should. A little something we stole from Stark Enterprises, when
we dropped by there." He put the belt on. "An old enemy of Anthony Stark's
invented this. He called himself the Ghost, for obvious reasons." He touched
a stud on the belt then, before either woman could react, threw a punch at
Sylvie. Both of their jaws dropped when his fist simply passed harmlessly
through her body. "Intangibility. A lesser version of the phasing cloak that
Minerva uses. If I wanted to, I could also be anything from translucent to
totally invisible." His voice sounded oddly hollow and faint. "As it is,
this should prevent the Sabers from taking me in."

   "Incredible," said Sylvie. "What Sylia wouldn't give for something like
that."

   Ed shrugged and passed a hand over the stud, returning to normal.
"Perhaps when I get to know her better. As it is, she'd likely take after me
in her suit, if she knew that her acquaintance from the book store was also
the `Mystery Vigilante'. As it is, we do have _one_ thing is common. We both
want to see Genom punished for it's crimes."

   He pulled on the leather duster, and tugging the Stetson over his head,
turned towards the stone circle. "Where are the muggers tonight, pretty
lady?"

   "Mostly near the Canyon, B'wana. They seemed to have cleared out of the
better parts of Mega-Tokyo after you took up that habit of breaking all the
fingers of every one of them you caught."

   "Heh.. there's nothing like positive motivation, eh m'dear?"

   "Works every time, boss!" Minerva's voice filled with humor. "'Port you
straight there?"

   "Yup." He turned and waved to Anri and Sylvie. "Don't bother waiting up
for me. I don't know when I'll get back. And don't worry. I won't get
caught, and I won't put the Sabers in any danger. You have my word of honor
on that."

   He waved. A column of light surrounded him. When it faded, so had he.

                                   * * *

   As he prowled the streets and alleys of the badlands near the Canyon, a
happy smile was on his lips. He never really understood why, but removing
the sort of human refuse that chose to prey on the weak just gave him a
warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside.

   He spotted a pusher trying to make a sale of some drug, and he quietly
drifted up behind the man. A moment later, he dropped a hand on the pusher's
shoulder.

   "So... what are you selling, eh? And more important, is it worth your
life?"

   The pusher, a rail-thin young man with greasy blond hair and an unhealthy
complexion, spun around with a humming vibro-switchblade in one hand. "You
gonna die, you motherfu..." His voice trailed off into silence.

   "Maybe I'm going to die, boy, but it won't be you that kills me. And it
_certainly_ won't be with a toy knife like that." Ed took the shiv from the
punk's non-resisting fingers, and snapped it in two. "Now.. what was it you
were saying, hmmmm?"

   "You HIM!" gasped the pusher. "You Goldeneyes!"

   Ed growled angrily, almost causing the punk to faint. "I Hate That Name!
Got that?"

   "Yessir, yessir," whimpered the pusher. There was a small trickling
noise, and they both looked down. The pusher in shame, Ed in disgust. "Jesus
X. Bushmaster! Don't you have _any_ pride? Control your bladder!" He shook
the man by his collar. "Listen up. You got a choice. You can take your
chances with the police, or you can take them with me. Remembering, of
course, that the cops have to play by the rules." He balled his fist in the
man's shirt, lifting him into the air. He shoved his face into the punk's.
"I, on the other hand, do _NOT_. Which do you want?"

   "P-p-p-p-police...."

   "Excellent choice. They don't tear your limbs off when they get pissed
with you. I _do_." He lowered the punk to the ground. "Go to jail. Go
DIRECTLY to jail. Do not pass go. Do not mug someone for two hundred
dollars. Do you understand? I'll be checking to see if you get there. And if
I find out that you _didn't_ go straight to the cops and give them a full
confession... I'm going to break so many of your bones, you'll end up as a
training aid in a teaching hospital. Clear?"

   A second trickling sound answered him. He shook his head. "Low caliber of
scum, these days." He set the pusher on his feet, and pointed him towards
the street. "Get going."

   The pusher did a credible imitation of a Olympic sprinter as he raced
down the street to the nearest police station, making Ed smile. {That's one
more piece of trash cleaned up, baby.}

   {You're mean, boss.} He could sense the smile in her `voice'.

   {Only to garbage like that, m'lady. Only to vermin like that who attack
the innocent.}

   {Uh-oh..}

   His face went taut. {Uh-oh? You know I don't like it when you say uh-oh,
baby. What's the matter.. oh. Oh, hell. Cancel statement.} He didn't need to
ask, now. The blue hardsuit coming his way was all the answer he needed. He
surreptitiously brushed a palm over the stud on his belt.

   "Freeze, you bastard!" Ed almost broke out in laughter at the venom in
Priss' voice. "Make a move and you're going to get a railgun spike right in
the gut!"

   He spread his arms wide. "Hey, I don't want any trouble. Nice hardsuits.
The Knight Sabers, right?" *Yaright. As if I didn't know..* "I've got no
argument with you folks. I'm not a boomer, and I'm not Genom." He shook his
head and his voice echoed eerily in the street from the effect the shield
had on it. "So why don't we all just turn around and walk away?"

   The white Saber came into view. "If that's the case, then you shouldn't
mind coming along quietly with us and satisfying our curiosity."

   "Errr.. that's not quite _fair_, you know.. I don't see _you_ four
answering the police's questions." He heard muffled laughter behind him.
*Must be Linna and Nene. They _would_ get a kick out of that,* he thought.
"Look, I'm not cutting in on _your_ turf, here. I mean, I'm not taking any
mercenary contracts, nor am I going after Genom, okay? I'm just cleaning up
the streets. What's wrong with that?"

   He could practically _see_ the blood boiling in Priss' veins. Sylia began
to say something, but Priss' shout interrupted. "This isn't about a few
street scum, this is about your throwing me around like a piece of trash in
the bar! Yeah! That's right! I know it's you, you bastard. I can see those
eyes of yours glowing."

   *Ooops! Bloody hell. Hadn't thought she'd noticed that in the bar. And I
hadn't even _considered_ that she might watch the news. Stupid, stupid,
stupid. D'oh! If I had a brain I'd be dangerous.*

   "Uhhh... heh, heh.. wasn't anything personal.. "

   "Well, _I_ took it personal. And if you don't surrender, I'm going to
take it PERSONALLY out on _you_!"

   He looked over to the white Knight Saber. "Is she _always_ like this? I
can just imagine what commanding her in battle must be like. You have my
heartfelt sympathies." The growls Priss let out at that comment lent a whole
new interpretation to the word `bloodthirsty'. And while he couldn't be
certain, he was willing to bet cold cash that the quickly smothered sounds
that came from the pink and green Sabers behind him was more quiet laughter.
Even the expressionless white armor facing him seemed to be somehow smiling.

   "That tore it. You're comming with _me_!" Priss snarled. She charged him.
His back was to a building, and he winced at what he knew was about to
happen. Sure enough, the blue suit moved to tackle him. It passed completely
through him, slamming violently into the brick wall behind him.
   
   Ed winced at the impact. "Owch. Did that hurt? It looked real painful."
He stepped to one side so the other three Sabers could see Priss clearly. He
didn't want them to think she was seriously injured. "Look.. I _knew_ you
were going to try to bring me in tonight, so I took some precautions. I'm
intangible right now, and I intend to stay that way whenever you four are
around." He shrugged expressively. "So can't we come to some sort of truce?"
   
   Ed moved away from the wall as Priss rose to her feet. Then the white
Saber approached him slowly, then arm outstretched, passed a hand slowly
through his body. She nodded thoughtfully inside the hardsuit, and stepped
back. "For now, then. Obviously, there is nothing we can do to you while you
are like this. However, while we may not be able to capture or restrain you,
neither can you continue with your.. `cleaning of the streets' while we are
present. I assume, of course, that you are unable to take any offensive
action, while in that state."

   All four women watched with varying degrees of amusement as the Vigilante
slapped himself across the forehead, dragging his hand down across his face.
*D'OH! I never even thought of that!* "Uhhh... Would you believe that I have
this horrible, terrible superweapon hidden inside my coat that will disable
every hardsuit in the city?"

   "No."

   "How about a mediocre, average weapon that will shut down powered suits
for 100 meters in every direction?"

   "I don't think so."

   "Would you believe two Girl Scouts and a rabid beagle?"

   "Unlikely, at best."

   "I should maybe go back to the drawing board and start over?"

   The white Saber finally nodded. "That I'd believe."

   The Sabers could see the lower half of his face flaming scarlet with
embarrassment. "I'd be really rather grateful if you could possibly see your
way clear to keeping this little error on my part just between the five of
us? It's really not the sort of thing that makes a hero look very heroic, if
you know what I mean."

   "I don't really see as that will matter, Mr.. Mr.. "

   "Call me Legion, if you need a name. Like it or not, I always seem to get
tagged with that."

   Inside the armor, Sylia raised an eyebrow and continued. "Well, Legion,"
she asked, "What is there to prevent us from simply following you back to
your headquarters and aprehending you there?"

   "Mmmmm... good question. You mean, in _addition_ to the fact that I could
simply start walking through walls, buildings, and even Mount Fuji in order
to leave you behind?"

   The white Saber nodded at him. "In addition to that, yes."

   "Well, as someone _else_ once said.. 'My armor can be invisible. It's not
hard to find out things when you can't be seen.'" That quote elicited a gasp
from from the pink armor standing behind him. "The same shield than renders
me intangible can make me invisible as well. While I'm unable to engage in
combat in such a condition.. it does tend to make trying to track me down
and/or capture me an exercise in frustration."

   "Stalemate then. But from what little we know of you, you seem to be a
being of honor, Legion."

   Ed nodded carefully, turning the statement over and over in his mind,
looking for the trap he knew had to be hidden in it. "I've been accused of
that particular failing, now and again."

   "Good. I'd like your word of honor that you will do nothing to endanger
Mega-Tokyo, or it's people. I want your word that you will take all due
precations during your.. `hunting' and will give it up rather than cause
any harm. In return, we will.. `let this lie', for now."

   The Sabers watched as the Vigilante visibly winced. "Ouch.. You are.. a
formidable opponent, dear lady. Not all battles are fought with blade and
beam. Now and again, I forget that. And someone like you comes along to
remind me of that again." He bowed elaborately. "You have my word, m'lady. 
I will take _no_ actions that might possibly endanger Mega-Tokyo or it's
law-abiding citizens. Additionally, I will not interfere with the Knight
Sabers. In the event that my little hobby presents a threat to the city,
I'll give it up immediately. My word upon it, Saber Prime."

   Inside the suit, Sylia smiled. "I'm told you've used this phrase several
times, and I find it peculiarly appropriate." The helmet nodded to Ed. "Well
barganed, and done."

   Ed laughed. "More appropriate than you might realize, m'lady." He doffed
his hat with a flourish. "Well, if all's been said and done, I have generic
street trash to clean up, and you, no doubt, have both buma to eliminate and
contracts to fufill." He smiled. "I bid you all a good evening, and good
hunting!"

   With those words, he simply vanished. Priss swore furiously. "You let him
get away, dammit!!"

   "Only for now," replied Sylia. "Legion will be meeting the Knight Sabers
again. And next time, we will be better prepared."

   Sudden laughter filled the street. "Perhaps, Saber Prime.. But then, so
will I!"

   The Sabers all heard the now-receeding footsteps fade. Sylia smiled,
wondering if it was somehow her destiny to run into every eccentric on the
planet. *It certainly seems so, after Twister...*


/* 
** <more stuff> 
*/

   "Threats...and Other Promises."
      - Vernor Vinge

   Ed looked up at the sound of the bell over the front door. "Welcome to
`Rare Books'. May I help you?" He looked the customer over. Tall, dark,
athletically built, and almost offensively handsome.

   "I'm here to help _you_, Mr. Edwards," replied the man. "I'm here to make
you wealthy."

   "Oh?" Ed raised an eyebrow. "And just how do you intend to do that?"
*Something isn't right, here,* he thought. {Minerva, _carefully_ scan the
gentleman, if you please.}

   The man smiled and took what looked like a business card made of crystal
from his jacket. "You're invited to a meeting at Genom tower tonight, sir.
Someone would like to speak with you about your skill in finding hard to
find literature." He placed the crystalline card on the counter. "Show this
to the guards. They'll let you in."

   He looked down at the card. Cut from a single slice of perfect quartz,
engraved letters inlaid with gold leaf marched across its glimmering
surface. Only one word, but only one was needed. A single name. Quincy.

   Minerva interrupted at that point. {I'm not sure how you did it, but you
called it the first try, boss. It's a boomer. A 33-S, to be precise.}

   That caught his attention. {A sexaroid? I thought Anri and Sylvie were
the only ones currently on Earth. The rest are supposed to be off planet.}

   He could practically hear Minerva shrug. {We're talking about Genom here,
b'wana. They don't exactly pay a lot of attention to the law, you know.}

   He turned his attention back to the sexaroid. "I gave Madagan my answer
the first time, tin can. That answer hasn't changed. I want nothing to do
with either Genom or Quincy. Clear enough? Get out of my shop, and tell your
masters to stay out of my life. End of message."

   The boomer evinced no surprise at his knowledge of what it truly was and
nodded politely. "It would still be to your best interests to meet with Mr.
Quincy, sir. But I shall inform him of your message and of your feelings in
this matter. The invitation remains open. Good day."

   The bio-machine turned, and left. Ed stared angrily at its back as it did
so. When the door swung closed, he began to swear loudly.

   Minerva spoke up. {Boss...}

   "..evil, vile, corrupt, foul.. ehh?" {What is it? Why the private link,
m'dear? No one is in the shop now..}

   {I guess they just couldn't resist, boss. The card is a plant.}

   {Excuse me??}

   {There's molecular micro-circuitry buried under the gold leaf, boss, with
the crystal acting both as a solar power source and a sounding board. The
entire card is one very _nicely_ disguised bug.}

   Ed's eyes flashed golden for a brief second, as his fingers clenched
tightly around the card. It exploded into a spray of brilliant glittering
shards. His fist shook as he ground them under his heel, enraged. A mile
away, in a safe house, a Genom technician flinched painfully as her ears
rang to a squeal of harsh feedback.

   "Oh.. I'll be visiting Quincy tonight, baby. But it isn't going to be
quite the visit he expects."

/*
** <more stuff>
*/

   The highway was a deserted section of Mega-Tokyo due to its bridge having
collapsed a long time ago and the city hadn't bothered fixing the damage.
Thus, no one was around to see the sudden flare of purple light, nor the
bone white car which shot forwards from its arrival point with a squeal of
rubber. The car was of an ancient make for Mega-Tokyo, but little else about
the unusual appearance would have been found evident as it suddenly
vanished.

   It had not vanished. Now it was cloaked by the spells woven into the car
by the person sitting in the passenger seat, which should have been the
driver's side in Japan. And that person was pleased.

   "Perfect!" Darlene chuckled.

   "Where do we go first?" the driver asked her.

   "It's night so de-cloak when we start running into cars," the mage
advised. "Bet you we run into Priss within two hours."

   The person in the back seat grinned. "No bet; that's a given."

   "True," Darlene admitted.

   "Hey, clear race track. Onward, Mortis!" the driver chuckled and the car
accelerated. A lot. Darlene rolled her eyes in exasperation.

   "Grim..."

                                   * * *    

   Up in orbit, Minerva detected the strange energy surge. *That dragon
again?* she wondered. But no, it came from the wrong location so what...?
Her thought processes froze. *Could it be...?* Quickly, the AI scanned the
city but whatever the cause was she only got a ghost image of...something...
before it disappeared. Repeated tries got even less.

   "Ed's going to want to hear about this," she murmured.

   Was Twister back?

                                   * * *

   Priss had been riding the highways more often lately due to her current
frustrations with that mystery man who had torn apart a Boomer like it was
nothing. Soon, the normal routes grew boring so she started on the lesser
used paths where there were fewer THP cars and opened up the gas. Her
pleasure in the acceleration must have distracted her, how else could that
old-looking car have gotten behind her? She glanced at her speedometer and
blinked.

   *How the fuck is that piece of crap keeping up at 220km?!* she thought,
amazed. The white ghost behind her was silent. Too silent, she couldn't even
hear the engine, which should have been howling like a demon! *Is it that
asshole?* she wondered.

   Then, impossibly, the car went into another lane and somehow went from
220 to 300 in one second because they zipped by Priss like she stood still.
She couldn't believe it!

   "How the HELL...?!?!" Priss demanded aloud. Up ahead, the car braked to a
dead stop just as fast in deceleration as acceleration. It seemed a clear
invitation to her so she warily applied her own brakes and coasted to a stop
beside the white car with black, impenetrable windows.

   The driver's side opened and a familiar red-headed face popped up to grin
at her. "Hiya, Priss!" Darlene giggled. "Like the car?"

   The singer sat, stunned, on her bike for a moment before she jumped off
and met her friend in front of the car with an enthusiastic hug. "Darlene!!
About damn time you came to visit, you little..."

   "Been busy," the red-head admitted as they separated. Priss snorted.

   "I bet. What's the deal with this old thing and why were you chasing me
with it?" the singer demanded.

   "Huh? Oh, this is a car made for America; the sides are reversed,"
Darlene explained. "I wasn't driving."

   "You weren't? Then who's the asshole who was?" Priss demanded.

   The true driver's door opened and a long pole with a wicked-looking,
curved blade on the top came into sight before its owner slid out of the
seat and stood, closing the door behind. Priss paled as she saw
light-absorbing, black robes covering the whole body. The only portions of
the driver visible was the skeletal fingers gripping the scythe and the
somehow amused-looking skull in the robes hood. The singer's hand suddenly
clenched on Darlene's shoulder, hard.

   "Priss, meet Grimreaper. Grimreaper, this is Priss," Darlene said for an
introduction.

   I'M HAPPY TO FINALLY MEET YOU, PRISS ASAGARI, the robed being said
cheerfully. Priss' eyes almost popped out from their sockets.

   "I... No... A..." she stammered, then fainted dead away, Darlene caught
her as she crumpled. The mage giggled.

   "Got you!" she said triumphantly.

   BWAH HAHAHAHAHA, the skeleton laughed, I LOVE IT!

   "Turn off 'Death's Voice' will you, Raj?" Darlene asked him.

   SURE, JUST BE "a sec, there," a more human-sounding voice finished. "God,
I never get tired of that."

   "Better not, given how much time I put into it."

   The one of the back doors of the car opened and a lean, young man with
black hair stepped out to stretch. "You have a mean sense of humor,
Darlene."

   "Thanks, Dave," she replied, dimpling. "It's a calling."

   All three chuckled.

                                   * * *

   Genom tower was a _huge_ building. Ed had seen taller ones now and then
in his travels, but none with such an.. arrogant? Yeah, that was the word.
An arrogant attitude. The entire building seemed to say that Genom was the
destiny of mankind, or some other grandiose statement like that.

   He despised it at first sight.

   He'd was dressed a little differently, tonight. Usually, when in the
shop, he wore a sweater and a sports jacket, trying for a professorial air.
But tonight he wanted to make something perfectly clear to Quincy.

   He stepped into the main lobby, and headed for the elevator. An armed
guard confronted him.

   "Where do you think _you're_ going, fella?"

   Ed reached into the pocket of his jean jacket and pulled out a handful of
crystal dust, pouring it out at the guard's feet. He pointed at it.

   "To a meeting with Quincy. You were told to expect me." He stared at the
guard. "That _was_ my invitation. It used to be a solid quartz business
card, until I became.. upset with it. You want me to get upset with you,
son?"

   The guard darted a quick glance at the glittering pile at his feet, and
waved to his partner. "Ahh.. Jake? Ya wanna check and see if there was an
appointment for a Mr... err..."

   "Anthony Edwards."

   "Anthony Edwards, right! Jake.. Uhh.. Jake.. could you _hurry_? Please?!"

   While he was waiting, Ed heard a buzz in his ear. {Boss? I got something
important..}

   {What is it, pretty lady? Can't it wait?}

   {I've got another sighting, boss. The readings were similar to those I
got off of Charcoal. But _much_ stronger. It might be Twister.}

   Right about then, the guard behind the desk looked up. "Ralph? He's
cleared for Mr. Quincy's office," he said nervously. "And we're supposed to
insure that he arrives there as rapidly as possible."

   Ralph nodded, and came closer. "Sir? If you'd care to come with me?" He
waved Ed towards the private elevator. "I'll see that you're escorted there
immediately."

   {Baby.. I got my hands full right now. You keep a close watch, and do
your best to see if you can't track Twister down.} A thought struck him.
{Keep a sensor out for the Sabers, pretty lady. He'll likely stop by to
visit with them and say hello.}

   {Will do, boss.}

   Ed followed the guard into the elevator, and watched as he slid a card
into a slot under the control panel. A heartbeat later, they were rocketing
upward at a speed that bent the guard's knees. He looked over at the guard.
"Fast elevator, son."

   "Built by Genom, sir. The best available!"

   Ed snorted at that, but didn't bother arguing. He had a bigger target
tonight. He looked up as the doors opened with a musical chord, rather than
the standard *ding* sound. *Figures*, he thought. *No matter _how_
unimportant the game, Genom _always_ has to try a little one-upsmanship.*

   "The end of the hall, sir. They're waiting for you."

   "Thank you, son. And a word of advice..."

   "Sir...?"

   "It never hurts to scout out a piece of cover _before_ the shooting
begins. You have a better chance that way. Remember that when you get back
to your post."

   The guard looked at him warily. "Thank you, sir."

   Ed grimaced. "Just trying to keep a clean conscience, boy. Now run along.
I got folks to palaver with right now."

   He started down the short hallway, and rapped on the door. An elderly
voice spoke out. "Come in, Mr. Edwards. We've been expecting you."

   "I rather thought you would, old man." He pushed the door open and
stepped inside. Quincy's office held a small group of people. Quincy
himself, Madagan, and several types that looked like lawyers. A small, tight
semi-circle of chairs faced the front of Quincy's desk, with an empty one in
the center. He took it, and sat.

   "So. You went to a great deal of trouble to get me to come here. Say your
say, and get it over with. I don't particularly care to be here." He stared
rudely at the head of Genom. "I don't like Genom, I don't like you, and I
don't like being here."

   Quincy never blinked. "That is what we are here to change, Mr. Edwards.
Genom wishes to purchase your services. You are somehow able to obtain
reference works that we cannot. We wish for you to do so on our behalf. We
are willing to compensate you for your efforts, most handsomely."

   One of the lawyer-types leaned towards Ed with a sheaf of papers. "We
have a contract here, that binds Genom to pay you over one million yen per
book, _exclusive_ of whatever you may have to pay of obtain it. In addition,
Genom will provide an unlimited line of credit for you to draw upon for
traveling expenses, payments to book owners, daily living expenses and any
necessary.. easements to customs officials."

   "No."

   "I understand," burbled the lawyer. "The fee per book is negotiable, and
we can raise it for items that are especially difficult to acquire.."

   "I. Said. No. What part of 'no' don't you understand, little man?" He
turned hard eyes toward Quincy. "Lose the lawyers, old man."

   Quincy raised a single finger, and the legal crew fell all over
themselves trying to leave the room as fast as possible. The bodyguards
remained, however, as did Madagan. "So, Mr. Edwards. What might you wish to
say that you do not wish them to hear?"

   "What I said before. No. I won't work for you, I won't help you, I
wouldn't even spit on you if you were on fire. Get it straight, Quincy.
because I'm saying it once and once only. Genom burned me once before. And
Genom isn't going to get away with it a second time. Hell will freeze over
before I ever help Genom, and the _only_ payment I'd ever accept from you
would be the heads of yourself, Madagan and Brian Mason in a silver plate."

   "That.. would not be advisable, Mr. Edwards. Genom is your friend, no
matter what you might believe. I suspect you will find yourself in urgent
need of liquid cash very shortly, and Genom will be the only place you will
be able to find that money."

   Ed's eyes narrowed. "Just what do you mean by that, old man?"

   "I understand that your bookstore is uninsured, Mr. Edwards. A dangerous
state of affairs that one should always take care to avoid." Quincy's face
showed nothing. "It's always a tragedy when books are burned and valuable
information is lost to the ages. Don't you agree?"

   "So.. that's what this was all about. You're playing your old game of
trying to get a handle on a person," he snarled. "Well, if I want your
advice, I'll open your head and sift through your brains for it."

   "Everyone has a price, Mr. Edwards," replied Quincy calmly. "The _only_
question is what that price might be. Tell me, what is _your_ price?"

   Quincy was surprised to see a flare of golden light come from behind Ed's
glasses. It faded quickly as Ed closed his eyes. "Quincy, you really don't
want to know. Trust me. What I want.. you _can't_ afford. You don't have
what it takes." He stood, causing the bodyguards to twitch. "You're playing
outside your league, old man. _Way_ outside. I understand that Genom is the
only thing that means anything to you. If you keep this up, you could see it
destroyed in the cross-fire."

   Quincy's expression didn't change. "You claim to have that sort of
power?"

   "No. But what's following me _does_. And if there's a showdown between
myself and my enemies in Mega-Tokyo.." He shook his head. "Quincy, the
earthquake of 2025 will look like a peaceful stroll in the countryside by
comparison. If you were really, REALLY lucky.. the planet _might_ still be
left standing, after the battle." He turned toward the door. "Good evening,
Mr. Quincy"

   Quincy shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot accept that answer." He
addressed the guards. "Detain him."

   The boomers quickly grabbed Ed by the shoulders and attempted to force
him back into the chair. They were surprised when he remained standing. A
second, more forceful try was just as ineffective.

   "Right. Now I'm pissed," Ed gritted out. He grabbed the first boomer by
the throat and squeezed. As Quincy looked on, mildly astonished, the
android's neck was crushed like a styrofoam coffee cup. A back-handed slap
removed its head. Ed tossed it to one side and went after the second,
driving his fist into its gut, and out through its spine.

   The remaining two boomers immediately upgraded their threat estimates,
and opened fire with their lasers, taking care to avoid involving Quincy.
The beams damaged the office, but did little to stop or even slow Ed. A
moment later, the two boomers were spare parts scattered around the floor.

   Quincy gazed at him dispassionately. "So.. you are not human. And from
the _interesting_ display you have provided, I suspect you are also the
mysterious bar patron and vigilante we have been searching for these past
several months." The faded ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Teleportation
is a powerful tool. Possessing it, Genom would be the pre-eminent
corporation on the planet. With your assistance, Genom would leap far ahead
of all others."

   Brushing the ash from his jacket, Ed gave him the sort of disgusted look
that most people usually reserved for times when they found mold on a slice
of bread. "Quincy, you simple enlarge my understanding of the depths of
human depravity. I couldn't believe the Crystal Knight when he told me about
your attempts to hire both him and Largo. I see I was wrong." Quincy's eyes
narrowed at that statement.

   "You are a friend of the Crystal Knight?"

   Ed took several steps forward to stand in front of Quincy's desk. "I'm
_me_, Quincy." He slammed a fist on the top of the desk, splitting it in
two. "And that's none of your business."

   He felt a distant tug on his shoulders, and turned to see Madagan, her
eyes burning brightly. "And the psionist takes her shot. One word for you,
girl. Don't." He jerked his shoulders sharply, causing Madagan to shudder
painfully at the mental feedback.

   "What _are_ you?" she choked out.

   "None of your concern. And none of Genom's concern, either. Leave me
alone and I'll extend the same courtesy to Genom." He heard the door behind
him open. "More boomers, no doubt. So I'll take my leave." He walked to one
of the windows and kicked. "This isn't my world. It isn't even my universe.
I don't want a fight. I just want to find my way home, Quincy. Nothing more.
But if you get in my way.. No threats, old man. Just be ready for a war if
you do."

   With that, he stepped out through the hole in the glass and plummeted
towards the ground.

                                   * * *

   A bone white car cruised past Genom tower. The driver blinked in surprise
as a indigo streak fell from the sky and crashed into the pavement by the
side of the street, missing them by only a few feet. He stopped the car and
turned to the person in the passenger seat.

   "Dave.. did you just see a guy in a jean jacket fall from the top of that
skyscraper and _not_ die?"

   Dave looked out the rear window. "Jean jacket, lumberjack shirt, and a
really _ugly_ looking Stetson?"

   "Check."

   "Yup."

   Dave looked at Grim. Grim looked back at Dave. They both nodded.

   "Life in Mega-Tokyo."

   "Uh-huh."
 
   Grim stepped on the gas and drove away.

                                   * * *

   Ed swore at the tail-lights of the car that had just left. "You could
have given me a hand, dammit!" He looked down at his legs, which were sunk
knee-deep in the concrete sidewalk. He shook his head, then pulled his feet
free, leaving two shattered holes in the walkway. "Why me? Things like this
_never_ happen to Superman."

   He walked away, muttering, "I better get started looking for a spot where
Minerva could beam me up without any witness. Or maybe I should just _walk_
home. Goddess, what a day I'm having..."

                    ***********************************