----------Cut Here----------
	"I should regret the necessity to kill you." Said Marina softly at
last. "Besides, there is no need."
	A moment later her left hand blurred towards her and Sylia felt a tiny
pin-prick as the needle beneath the nail of Marina's index finger extended to
pierce the skin of her neck.
	"Forgive me." She heard faintly as her legs failed her.
	Then Marina had caught her in her arms and blackness closed about her.

	"How much longer?" Domina demanded, her voice shrill and hard with
rising tension and excitement.
	It was something of a moment of truth for her. She had watched the
removal and activation of the first DA from some little distance, being then
only the eleventh most important of the fifteen scientists directly answerable
to Dr. Zhuranovsky. Yoshida had been the twelfth and had stood beside her,
staring in what she had considered vicious fascination as the lithe creature
had risen from her tank. She had not realised that she had been staring in
precisely the same fashion, or that, as snide and conspiring as he was, his
mind had been as full of wonder as her own. Now the four remaining
researchers, herself, Yoshida, Madeleine Amura and Hiroshi Daitokuji stood and
gave instructions whilst the technicians and support staff worked furiously at
data-pads or rushed back and forth with cables and additional equipment in
their hands.
	"Only another minute or so." Yoshida called to her.
	Domina hurried the length of the laboratory, turning to glance at each
man or woman as she passed.
	"We're ready."
	Madeleine had suddenly appeared at her side.
	The least ambitious of any of them, she was the youngest save for
Daitokuji and the most likely to be sacrificed by the other two should they
fail.
	She smiled. Yoshida would be the scapegoat should anything go wrong if
she had any say in the matter.
	"Yoshida? Daitokuji?" She called.
	"Ready." Both answered.
	Moving towards her place, she paused to tell the security boomer by
the door that it could signal Assistant Madigan to join them.
	"I have already done so." It responded.
	"No doubt." Muttered Domina darkly as she hurried to settle before the
master console. From there she could see most of what was displayed for each
of the others.
	It was only a few seconds later when Madigan appeared, flanked by a
squad of machines as she stepped into the room and hurried to stand almost
immediately behind Domina.
	"We are ready to begin at your instruction Dr. Zhukova." Said Yoshida
smoothly from his place almost at her side.
	"I imagine she was perfectly aware of that." Madigan purred icily.
	Domina could have kissed her hand.
	Yoshida turned chalk-white and fixed his attention again on the
console before him.
	"Very well." Said Domina. "Let's begin. Yoshida?"
	"I have started the pumps Ma'am." He said quickly. "The tank should be
drained in two minutes."
	"Madeleine?"
	"I am beginning the upload now Ma'am." She answered. "I only hope
Zhuranovsky ironed out the bugs in this version."
	"Meaning?" Madigan demanded.
	"Alexei blanked the vn-net in both the standard chip and the second
2134 before escaping." Domina answered. "We are using copies Yoshida made for;
mm; his own reasons."
	Yoshida choked back a gasp of horror as Domina smiled.
	"How fortunate," Madigan purred, turning to smile icily at the
scientist. "and how enterprising of you to anticipate him, Dr. Yoshida. I must
remember to mention it to the chairman in my report."
	Yoshida had never seen such a smile and hoped he would never do so
again.
	"None of us can be certain as to what will happen when we activate
her." Domina continued. "I don't mind admitting that we can't even approach
his genius. Suzuki, O'Neil and Liebermann worked on the data and linguistic
libraries and several worked at adapting the C and S subsystems but it was Dr.
Zhuranovsky who integrated the whole. Whether he had completed that in this
version, we won't know until we activate her. Yoshida?" She ended, turning to
him.
	"The tank is half drained." He said, his tone a good deal less self-
satisfied. "I have halted the pumps as per your original instructions."
	"Very well." Said Domina, glancing at the monitor before her.
	Once responsible for the majority of the design of the S-type physical
hardware of the machine, her purpose now was entirely coordinative.
	"Madeleine?" She inquired.
	"The upload should be complete in less than two minutes."
	"Daitokuji?"
	"The sensor-suite tests perfectly. Of course I can't test her sensory
responses or flight systems yet."
	"Yoshida?"
	"The circulatory system is functioning perfectly under the external
driver." He answered. "We're ready at your command."
	"; careful." She reminded them. "We don't want her bursting out of her
tank. Daitokuji, are you absolutely *certain* her power-plant is firmware-
limited? After the fiasco with Marina, I don't intend to take chances."
	"Yes." He answered. "I've set it at two percent and locked out the
controller. It will no longer accept commands from her CPU. She will be able
to move about and respond to requests, but little else."
	"And her weapons systems?"
	"They can't be activated with her plant as it is. I can assure you
Ma'am that we're in no danger from her."
	"Very well." She said. "Madeleine?"
	"Bringing up CPU." Said Madeleine, unable to contain the rising
excitement in her tone. "CPU active."
	"Circulatory systems now under internal control." Yoshida announced.
	He seemed to have abandoned the desire to play politics, as eager as
the rest of them it seemed, to see Camilla on-line and functioning.
	"Sensor-suite released." Cried Daitokuji. "Sensory systems accessed by
internal CPU. The damned thing's working!" He shouted suddenly, a grin
plastered across his face.
	Domina heaved a sigh of relief as a tight knot of fear unclenched
itself at last. Not that they were home yet, but at least the initial
activation was going well.
	"Madeleine?"
	"Running external diagnostic." She said quickly. "Physical tests
complete. Running ORAM test. Do you want me to cancel it?"
	"It will take nearly an hour with the standard chip." Domina
explained, turning to Madigan. "It is extremely unlikely that there will be an
ORAM fault."
	"Cancel it." Madigan said briskly. "You can test it when you install
the 2134. I assume the enhanced chip will be faster?"
	"Very much so." Domina answered.
	"I've cancelled it." Said Madeleine. "We'll need to drain the tank
before I can do anything more."
	"Yoshida?"
	"Pumps on." He said.
	"Leave enough to cushion her." Domina told him. "Daitokuji?"
	"The plant is fine." He said excitedly. "Sensor-suite and sensory
responses perfect."
	"Yoshida?"
	"I've left two inches of lubricant." He answered.
	"Madeleine?"
	"I've already begun Domina." She said, forgetting the new honorific in
her excitement.
	A moment later, the naked machine, now quite visible through the glass
of her tank, twitched and shifted. For a moment nothing more happened, then a
gush of lubricant exploded from her mouth and she began to breathe.
	"All physical systems under internal control." Cried Yoshida, his tone
at last betraying something of the excitement he was feeling.
	"Sensory systems accessed." Cried Daitokuji. "CPU activity. God! She's
beginning to wake up." He ended almost in a shout.
	"Not yet." Madeleine said, flashing him a smile. "You're seeing the
sensor results of the final tests. Ma'am, there's something here about pitch-
tuning her voice."
	Domina gave a sudden quick light laugh.
	"I might have expected it." She said. "Alexei was almost as obsessed
with music as he was with mathematics. Can you ignore it?"
	"Yes." She answered. "Beginning speech test."
	She touched a key and a moment later: "There's a one-eyed yellow idol
to the north of Katmandu.
	"There's a little marble cross below the town." Came from the tank in
a monotone.
	"Not exactly an inspired performance." Said Domina, unable to keep the
growing excitement from her own voice. "Obviously he never bothered to finish
the external speech driver."
	"Hello, speech testing." Said Camilla as Madeleine typed. Then:
"ouaowimftgntflagnplkrest." Followed by girlish giggles from the scientist.
	"What's the matter with it?" Madigan demanded immediately.
	"I think Madeleine was playing around." Domina answered, giving the
younger woman a sharp glance.
	"Do that again and I will not be pleased." Said Madigan quietly,
turning to shoot the scientist an icy glare.
	Madeleine gulped and returned to the console before her.
	"All tests complete." She said in a somewhat subdued tone. "I can
begin the boot initialisation as soon as you're ready Ma'am."
	"Proceed." Said Domina, her tone suddenly a little softened.
	Madeleine gave her a grateful smile, then turning once more to the
console she typed a quick sequence and a moment later both her's and Domina's
consoles showed the boot window.
	"DA-33 prototype, version 0.01-Alpha  initialised." Said Camilla.
"Serial number BU-7541-33.02. Designation, Camilla. Checking CPU status."
	From that point the checks and initialisation continued save that the
key was neither displayed nor requested.
	"Boot complete. Command?" Camilla ended.
	"It would seem you have succeeded." Said Madigan.
	"Not yet." Said Domina. "This is just her boot-strap. Madeleine?"
	"Um; Hiroshi are you sure she's safe?" Said Madeleine, suddenly uneasy
after her initial excitement as she remembered again the reports concerning
what Marina had done to eleven of their colleagues.
	"She is perfectly safe." Daitokuji insisted excitedly. "For God's sake
let's get her up and running!"
	"Ma'am?" Madeleine inquired.
	"Bring her on-line." Said Domina, suddenly finding it difficult to
speak.
	All save Madeleine turned to face the tank. Madigan glanced quickly
over her shoulder, snapping a command to the machines ranged behind her.
Immediately they moved into a position where they could both protect her and
obliterate the tank and disable its occupant should it prove necessary.
	"Alright." Said Madeleine uneasily. "Here we go."
	She existed. The shock was instant and as quickly gone. There had been
no moment before this one, although her libraries held data upon a myriad of
subjects and experiences. Her name was Camilla. She was a D-class boomer
Series A prototype model DA-33, the second of six and the property of Genom
corporation. In an instant she had integrated everything concerning herself
from the subtleties of her systems to each step required in the manufacture of
each component and the alloys that made them.
	"What is she doing?" A voice demanded.
	The language was Japanese, one of two-hundred and five she could speak
and understand. Instantly, she accessed the Britannica's information
concerning the language group, the country in which this particular language
was spoken, its history, cultures and people. Cross-referencing, she
integrated the data in her combat library concerning every aspect of the
country's military history, then, slightly irritated as further references
were demanded, closed all external sensory input and integrated her entire
library database into her consciousness.
	A moment later, Camilla opened her eyes, reached up, and with one easy
fluid motion pulled herself from the tank and stood naked before them, careful
not to disturb the optic-fibre cables still linked to the ports in her wrists
and neck. The integration had taken nearly thirty seconds and they had become
concerned.
	"Greetings Dr. Zhukova, Dr. Yoshida, Dr. Amura, Dr. Daitokuji." She
said, her tone calm and utterly self-assured while a smile played coolly about
her mouth. "Forgive me that I do not greet you immediately Assistant Madigan,"
She continued, half turning her head. "but I understand it is not custom to
greet one of your rank with my back turned to you and I will disconnect the
cables should I turn."
	She looked down at herself, pulling a face as she stared at the
lubricant oozing from her body to pool on the floor.
	"This is not seemly." She said simply.
	"That's not important at the moment." Madigan answered coldly.
	"Do something about those cables." She continued to Domina. "I don't
intend to talk to this thing with her back to me."
	"We can disconnect them now if you don't want us to complete her
tests." She said.
	"Give her the problem immediately." Said Madigan. "You can clean her
up after she's recalled Marina."
	"Ma'am." Domina answered.
	Camilla had turned as far as she could towards Madigan without pulling
on her cables. Now she turned again to Domina as the scientist addressed her.
	"This is your access key." She began, displaying it on her own
console. "You are to discern its derivation if possible, using any aspect of
your systems from which it may have been created; libraries, name, CRC
validity checks, in order that you can then derive the key of the first DA-33
prototype."
	"You wish me to recalculate Marina's key from predefined data rather
than release the key itself?" She inquired.
	"You *have* her key?" Domina gasped.
	"Yes." Camilla answered simply.
	There was a moment of stunned silence from the scientists, broken by a
disbelieving gasp from Madigan. Domina felt the last of her fear vanish like a
cloak.
	"Send it immediately." Madigan commanded before she could do the same.
	"Sent." Camilla answered immediately. "Response received. Two minutes,
thirty-seven seconds to Marina's arrival."
	"I don't believe it! I really don't believe it!" Cried Daitokuji,
expressing the relief all of them were feeling.
	Madeleine was grinning foolishly and Yoshida was mopping his brow as
the tension in his face vanished into a self-satisfied smile of smug
assurance.
	"The gods must be smiling on you." Said Madigan, the ghost of a
genuine smile flickering on her face. "Complete Camilla's tests immediately
and have her cleaned, dressed and ready for presentation to the chairman the
moment you have Marina reprogrammed. You *can* reprogram her I assume?"
	"With Camilla's help it will be child's-play." Domina assured her.
	"Correct?" Madigan inquired of the boomer.
	"With her operating in firmware command mode it will be simple for me
to integrate into her subconscious whatever you request." She answered.
	"Then I'll leave you to continue." Said Madigan, and smiling, she
hurried from the room, the squad of security boomers trailing swiftly behind
her.
	"God, I really thought I would faint." Madeleine gasped. "Can we relax
now?"
	"Soon." Domina assured her, unable to keep a somewhat foolish grin
from her own face. "We still have some work to do."
	And turning, she settled still smiling before her console once more.

	Things could not possibly be more exactly as he had intended.
	Smiling, he watched as Madigan approached him across the plush red
carpet of the vast expanse that was his personal domain at the very pinnacle
of the tower.
	"Camilla?" He inquired without preliminaries after she had bowed and
resumed a position immediately before the huge desk behind which he sat.
	"She seems to be functioning perfectly, although Zhuranovsky had
erased that part of her ORAM containing the neural-net."
	"But Yoshida--."
	"Made a copy as you guessed he would. Still, it was a dangerous
gamble."
	"Not with Yoshida." Quincy assured her. "The man is a viper, but also
a fool; a most agreeable combination. You have arranged his termination I
assume, assuming I am mistaken?"
	"Immediately the project is brought to a successful conclusion." She
assured him.
	His low chuckle seemed to reach to the farthest corners of the room.
	"And the others lack the ambition to prove difficult. I may even
decide to reassign them, again should my reading of Zhuranovsky be at fault.
The second team?"
	"Are ready to begin the moment you give your authority." Madigan
assured him. "I can have Camilla transferred at a moment's notice."
	"No." Quincy answered quietly. "Let's not put all our eggs in one
basket. Have Marina sent to Domina's team. I wish Camilla to reprogram her."
	"But if Zhuranovsky--"
	"Apologise to Fellini and assure him that his team will be active
*very* soon." He continued as though she had said nothing. "See that they
remain ready to begin at a moment's notice. I will not tolerate even a
fractional delay."
	"Sir." She said.
	"All is going well." He assured her in response to her uneasy look.
"Just a little longer Madigan and we can begin. This could not be more to our
advantage."
	"Just so long as we see those bitches pay." Said Madigan softly.
	"Oh believe me, the outcome will be beyond anything you could have
imagined." He assured her.
	Madigan smiled.
	"Marina should have reached the tower." He ended. "You'd better
welcome her."
	"Sir." She said.
	And bowing once more, she turned and hurried quickly from the room.

	"What on earth has she been doing!" Exclaimed Madeleine.
	She had emerged into the laboratory from the apartments behind it in
which all of them were now confined until the project's conclusion, a clean
and dressed Camilla following meekly behind her, to find the assistant to the
chairman already there. Beside her, her arms relaxed at her sides, her face
expressionless, was the missing DA-33. Madeleine's heart had skipped a beat
and for a moment fear had nearly choked her. This thing had killed fifteen
people in the last few hours.
	"She's quite safe Madeleine." Domina had assured her.
	It was as Madeleine approached the machine that she caught the first
scent of shampoo and other smells that spoke of expensive soaps, conditioners
and who knew what else.
	"She's certainly cleaned herself up." Yoshida observed dryly as he
inspected Marina with a clinical eye. "I wonder where she went?"
	"To a hotel room perhaps." Said Madigan dismissively. "It's not
important. How soon can you begin?"
	"Immediately," Domina answered. "assuming Camilla can interface with
her enhanced chip."
	"The boot-strap firmware is virtually identical." Camilla assured
them. "There will be no problems."
	Her tone however was tight and she was staring at the first DA, colour
rising in her cheeks.
	"She is--" She began.
	"I would remind you of your function here." Said Madigan in a cold,
clipped tone of command.
	Immediately the look vanished and Camilla's face set into a mask as
cold and clinical as her own.
	"My apologies." She said simply. "Access can begin on your command."
	"Then I'll leave you to begin." Said Madigan briskly. "Myself, *and*
the chairman, will be watching. Do not fail."
	With that, she left once more.
	"Over here." Domina commanded, waving the two machines to two simple
wooden lab-chairs that had been set side by side by her console.
	Immediately Camilla moved to her place but Marina remained statue-
still.
	"What's wrong with her?" Daitokuji demanded.
	He had been shooting uneasy glances at the DA prototype from the
moment Madigan had led her into the room.
	"She probably needs specific instructions while in command mode."
Madeleine observed. "There's very little of her that's doing anything right
now."
	"Marina, come here." Domina tried.
	The DA nodded in response, moving with a flashing blur of speed to
halt before Domina.
	Taken aback, Domina commanded her to sit beside Camilla. Again, the
movement was a blur too quick to be seen, although the chair did not so much
as quiver as the DA settled.
	Quickly, Madeleine reattached the fibre-optics between the machines
and the system, moving gingerly as she handled the Elite.
	"Now what?" Daitokuji said.
	"We link them together I suppose." Said Madeleine, reaching for yet
another cable.
	"It is not necessary." Camilla told her. "We can interface without a
direct link."
	"Another of our erstwhile colleague's little secrets." Said Yoshida
with a vulpine smile of smug self-satisfaction. "Boomer telepathy. How
imaginative."
	Domina restrained herself from commanding Marina to splinter the
snide, self-satisfied smirk from his podgy face.
	"Shall I proceed Dr. Zhukova?" Camilla inquired calmly.
	"Proceed." Domina responded.
	"Accessing." Said Camilla.
	Then a moment later: "External access granted." Said Marina in the
same clipped tones as the message flashed on to both Domina's and Madeleine's
screens.
	The others had nothing to do save to monitor, Yoshida the boomers'
physical reactions, Daitokuji any anomalies in the machines' sensory or
weapons systems.
	"There's one hell of a lot of data passing between them." Daitokuji
commented. "Madeleine, what's going on?"
	"I'm not sure." She said. "Camilla?"
	"Integrating; subconscious." She said slowly. "Please; wait."
	"It's taking most of her processor time, whatever it is." Madeleine
observed. "We should have upgraded her before we started this."
	"You're sure it's not a virus or something?" Daitokuji said, seeming
to be growing increasingly uneasy. "You're sure it's not going to blow us
apart?"
	"You were the one who claimed her power-plant was locked to two
percent power." Madeleine snapped back, her tone betraying her own growing
concern.
	"Completed." Said Camilla suddenly as the packets ceased, halting the
rising argument before it could get worse. "What do you wish me to change?"
	"Alter any instructions or aspects pertaining to Genom corporation and
its employees to match your own." Domina instructed her. "Will that do
Madeleine?"
	"That should be enough." She answered.
	"Searching." Said Camilla.
	For the next few minutes data screamed frantically between the two
machines while the four sat and waited impatiently. Neither boomer had moved
or spoken since the reprogramming had begun. Camilla, Madeleine suggested, had
probably assigned all of her processor time to the task and Marina was in no
position to offer much conversation at the moment.
	"Can't you make anything of it?" Domina demanded of her at last.
	"The diagnostic wasn't designed to handle this." She answered.
"Perhaps the latest is, but until we have Marina up and running again we can't
have her collect it."
	"It's a pity we didn't tell Camilla to have her bring Zhuranovsky back
with her." Said Yoshida. "That's what I would have done."
	"I'm fascinated to hear it." Domina observed with a cold smile. "I'm
certain both Assistant Madigan and Chairman Quincy are equally impressed,
particularly since it was Assistant Madigan who told her to send the key."
	Domina had never seen someone turn dead-white with greater speed.
	"I think you should shut up Yoshi." Said Daitokuji, grinning at the
older man's glare. He hated the diminutive. "You're in enough trouble for
those unauthorised copies as it is."
	"Changes completed." Said Camilla suddenly, cutting off Yoshida's
explosion before it could find escape.
	"Can we test her without being blown to pieces?" Said Daitokuji.
	"Marina will answer direct questions while in command mode." Camilla
told him.
	"Define your prime allegiance Marina?" Domina commanded.
	"I am the property of Genom corporation." Marina answered simply. "I
serve Genom Corporation through the primary commands of its Chairman" A
graphic of Quincy's face filled the window of both consoles. "and those he has
authorised as defined by two-hundred and fifty-six priority designations.
These are as follows."
	"Abort." Said Domina quickly. "Is Dr. Alexei Ivanovitch Zhuranovsky
authorised?"
	"Priority seven." She responded. "He may access the following
functions."
	"Zhuranovsky is a traitor." Yoshida cut in before Domina could say
more. "Both you and Camilla will cease to obey him."
	"We need independent confirmation of that." Said Camilla. "I can
temporarily lock out his access, pending that confirmation."
	"That will suffice." Said Domina quietly, giving Yoshida a withering
glare.
	"Done." Camilla responded.
	"Then I think we're ready." Said Domina. "Camilla?"
	"Placing Marina on-line." Said Camilla.
	A moment later, Marina's expression flashed to an easy smile, her head
turning towards Domina.
	"Dr. Zhukova." She acknowledged calmly.
	"Diagnostic?" Domina inquired of Madeleine.
	"Perfect." She said.
	A collective sigh of relief washed over them.
	At Domina's instruction, Marina and Camilla disconnected the cables
and rose to their feet.
	"I understand that you're to be presented to the chairman in a few
minutes." Said Domina. "After that, I'm not certain."
	She turned towards the two C-55s that had remained by the door and
presumably relayed everything both to Madigan and the chairman.
	These now moved forwards towards the DAs.
	"You will move ahead of us." Said one flatly.
	"Absurd design." Marina observed with a quick flashing smile at Domina
as she moved to walk before them. "Are we to be taken immediately to Chairman
Quincy? My hair is a frightful mess after that flight."
	"You are to be taken to Dr. Fellini's research team for disassembly,
reconstruction and reprogramming. This time, Dr. Zhuranovsky's influence will
be removed, permanently."
	The movement was too quick for Domina to comprehend. In one instant,
Marina and Camilla were moving before the two machines. In the next both C-55s
were splintered fragments scattered almost from one side of the lab to the
other. Then something blurred passed her and Yoshida screamed. Turning, her
eyes wide, she saw Camilla lift him above her head and crack his spine just
below the neck with a single fluid twist of her hands.
	"For father!" The boomer snarled. "Should you live, you will remember
what you have lost."
	Her hand blurred, and Yoshida screamed again as a flash turned first
his left, then his right eye to a blackened cinder. His ears followed, then
his tongue.
	Dropping the gurgling ruin to the floor, Camilla pivoted away from him
and leapt towards a frozen, gagging Daitokuji.
	Gasping, fighting desperately to hold her own nausea in check, Domina
turned to the door. But it was already far too late. Marina had literally
welded it shut from floor to ceiling. Domina stared stupidly for a moment,
then another scream from behind her made her whirl.
	"No please don't hurt me!" Madeleine was sobbing wildly. "Oh God
please no! Please I'll do anything you want! Please *please* don't!"
	She was kneeling beside her chair, dark eyes wide and filled with
tears as she stared in petrified horror at the DA moving towards her. It was
as though Marina were playing with her, Domina thought, nightmare terror
rising to engulf her. As she watched, Marina reached down and lifted Madeleine
almost gently to her feet.
	"Oh God no!" Domina prayed in sudden desperation. "Yoshida yes. Even
Daitokuji and myself. But not warm, bubbly Madeleine. She's too young! She
doesn't deserve to die like this. No!" She screamed suddenly, stumbling wildly
towards Marina, heedless of her own danger. "Please not--"
	She stopped, staring in frozen disbelief. Marina was cradling
Madeleine gently to her, one hand stroking a tear-wet cheek gently, the other
caressing her long black hair. For a moment she remained like this. Then
lifting Madeleine in her arms, she leaned forwards to touch her cheek with a
feather-light kiss.
	"Forgive me," She murmured, almost too softly for Domina to hear. "but
we cannot take you with us. Domina is right. You do not deserve to die in
pain."
	And with that, her hand moved and Madeleine lay lifeless in her arms.
	"Oh God!" Domina choked.
	Reeling away, she stumbled blindly for the farther end of the room.
She did not even see Daitokuji die. He did not scream, whether because it was
too quick or because he had already fainted with terror she did not know.
	It was Marina it seemed, who was to kill her. One moment she was on
her feet, in the next she was snatched from the floor and gazing into the
implacable cold face of the boomer.
	"You could have helped him."
	Marina's voice was frigid. "He offered you a chance for fame and
escape."
	"From Genom!"
	DOMINA laughed bitterly. "I let him go."
	"It was not enough." Said Marina.
	And with a single twist, she broke Domina's neck and dropped her
lifeless body to the floor.
	"How do we get out?" Camilla asked, moving quickly to her side.
	"You have the case?" Marina inquired.
	"Everything is here." Camilla assured her.
	"Then we escape via the apartments behind the laboratories." Said
Marina simply.
	There was a sudden rending crash from the sealed door and a moment
later a clawed hand tore its way through the steel.
	Both DAs turned.
	"Pathetic." Marina laughed, a wild exultation leaping in her. "Let us
see just what these systems can do."
	Her mouth opened wide. In the next instant a searing white flash leapt
at the door, the intervening air screaming as it became in a moment a jet of
brilliantly blazing plasma. A heartbeat later, the door, the two C-55s that
were tearing it down, the ten huge BU-12BS behind them and the six men and two
women directing operations from the rear were gone and the passage was a
blazing inferno.
	"Come." Said Marina, turning quickly away.
	Shivering, Camilla followed her as she slammed her way through the
wall at the room's farther end. They burst out into the quarters behind the
labs and a moment later the thick glass of one of the huge livingroom windows
exploded in a shattering crash as the two thundered from the tower, their
thrusters already screaming.
	"Where now?" Camilla flashed, unable to speak against the screaming of
wind around them.
	"Follow." Marina commanded, unwilling to transmit the answer with even
the faintest chance that Quincy might be able to listen.
	Father had underestimated him, or perhaps it was his paranoia that had
saved his life. It would have been so simple had they been taken to his
office. She considered for a moment turning back to kill him, but the very
fact that it seemed such a simple solution made her reject it. Anticipating
father's trump, he must have anticipated at least the possibility of an
attempt on his life. Either he had replaced himself for the duration with
another boomer duplicate, or he had some means of disabling them, though how
that might be possible she could not begin to guess. In either case, she would
find a safe haven and strip Camilla to the last component. After she had
treble-checked her every aspect, she would reassemble and reactivate her and
have her do likewise to her. They could not risk returning to Sylia for any
more than the briefest of moments. When they were certain they were safe, then
she would contact her with the proposal her father's new data suggested.
	"Two helicopters." Camilla observed.
	Not bothering even to turn, Marina locked on to the approaching Genom
craft and vaporised both with a single pulse from the emitter in her left
heel.
	"They won't try that again." She observed.
	"Are we truly free now?" Camilla asked.
	"Soon Camilla." Marina assured her. "They won't be able to" Flash!
"follow us once we reach the ground."
	The missiles and the boomers that had just been launched towards them
were no more than a fireball.
	Then they were plunging towards the streets below and a moment later
all readings from them vanished as they engaged their ECM.

	"Damn it!" Madigan swore vehemently as she brought her hand down on
her thigh. "Now we've no chance of finding them."
	"Precisely." Quincy observed calmly from the seemingly immovable
position behind the huge desk.
	"But what do we do?" Madigan cried, her own voice shrilling at last
with rage and frustration. "The damned things are unstoppable! I was so sure
we had them."
	"Never underestimate a madman Madigan." Said Quincy calmly. "The
unfortunate death of Dr. Zhuranovsky's daughter unhinged his mind. His
obsession with the DA and its possibilities for avenging her makes him an
extremely dangerous but very predictable adversary. One only has to know how
to read him."
	"Then--"
	"As I have assured you, things are *exactly* as I intended. Call
Fellini and have his team begin. I want Ligeia ready before sunset. Have you
recovered Daitokuji, little Madeleine and that fool Yoshida?"
	"It was difficult, but they were pulled out in time. There may be some
psychological damage to Yoshida; his death was far from pleasant I
understand."
	"It was to be expected." Said Quincy. "He will be the last test
subject; Fellini believes there will be no further failures. He can be
terminated when we are certain the transfer was successful. Ensure that he is
sufficiently damaged before releasing him to Fellini. We can't afford to take
chances. Have Amura prepared immediately. We will keep Daitokuji in reserve."
	"Sir." Said Madigan.
	"Have the three delivered to Fellini, then send the twenty prepared
assassins in pursuit of Marina and Camilla, the assassins to become active an
hour before nightfall. That should give the DAs time to disassemble, check and
reassemble one another. Have five assassins faultless and the remainder
programmed to go rogue as I've defined once they have been found and
positively identified. See that civilian casualties are high."
	"Sir." She answered again.
	Bowing, she moved quickly to the door and a moment later it closed
behind her.
	Quincy sat in silence for long after she had gone, a faint smile
playing about his lips.
	"Very soon my dear Sylia." He said quietly. "The game will be played
out to the end, and you shall dance to my tune whether you like it or not
until I've no longer any need to pull the strings. And then--."
	He laughed again, a long low laugh of absolute self-confidence. One
need only know how to read and to manipulate and the rest was simple beyond
imagining.
	With a sigh, Quincy settled himself more comfortably in his chair and
reaching to the independent data-pad before him, pulled up Zhuranovsky's data
once more on the DAs, and on the Knight Sabres.

	"Priss! Oh God Priss what happened!"
	Linna's voice filtered slowly into the nothingness. With a moan, Priss
stirred, trying vainly to open her eyes. The lids seemed glued closed and a
numbing blanket of confusion seemed to be smothering her every thought in a
timeless haze of half-dream. Very slowly, she forced her lids to obey her and
stared blearily up at the anxious face of the dancer.
	"Oh hell, turn off the strobes." She groaned, lifting a shaking hand
to cover her face. "Did you get the bastard that did this? Hope you took its
head off. I wanna keep it. Mmmm."
	Then suddenly she gasped and forced her eyes fully open against the
glare.
	"Oh *sh*t*!" She gasped as memory pieced itself together. "That bitch!
I knew it! I knew this would happen!"
	"Marina?"
	Linna's voice sounded like a hammer in her head.
	"Turn down the volume will you?" Priss gasped, struggling to sit up.
"That bitch! What the hell did she do to me? Where's--"
	"Nene's still unconscious. We haven't found--"
	"Linna, give me a hand."
	Mackie came bursting into the room. "Sis's down below. I can't wake
her."
	"Will you be alright for a moment?" Linna asked.
	"My head's pounding and I feel like I've just kissed the road at 200
but I'll be alright." Priss answered, still trying to sit up. "Get down there;
go on."
	While they were gone, Priss lay back once more, slowly fighting down
the numbing stupor of whatever chemicals Marina had pumped into her. Whatever
it was, Priss didn't want to have a second try. Her head and body ached as
though she'd been moonlight dancing with a C-55 or twenty and her eyes still
weren't able to focus. At least she didn't feel nauseous.
	"Be thankful for small mercies." She muttered, at last managing to
pull herself to her knees.
	A groan from Nene made her turn. Slowly she worked her way across the
suddenly vast expanse of Sylia's livingroom until she reached her side.
	"Oh my head!" Nene gasped, struggling to open her eyes. "What
happened?"
	"Don't try to move yet." Priss said quietly. "That bitch shot us full
of something, probably some Genom chemical sh*t meant to take out half an
army. Just keep still."
	"Where's Sylia?" Nene gasped at last.
	"I think Mackie found her down below somewhere." Priss answered.
"Linna's gone down to help him bring her up."
	As though to confirm this, Linna's voice came to them faintly.
	"Not so fast damn it Mackie. Sylia if you'd keep still for a minute.
You're not walking anywhere so shut up and stop moving."
	Moments later the front door closed and a few seconds after that they
were entering the room, Sylia carried between them. They settled her into a
chair, then at her gesture, Linna moved to help Priss up while Mackie
hesitated for a moment before a glare from Sylia made him hurry to Nene's
side.
	"I'm alright damn it." Priss growled fiercely as Linna half helped,
half carried her to the lounge before moving back to help Mackie carry Nene.
	The smallest of the Knight Sabres seemed barely conscious and gasped
with pain as they lifted her.
	"What the hell did she do to us?" Priss demanded in a shaky voice.
	Her pulse should be racing and sweat should be pouring from her she
was sure. Instead, her heart beat slowly and gently and the numb, blanketing
blackness was threatening to take her once more.
	"Some kind of narcotic, laced with an adrenalin suppressant and heaven
knows what else." Sylia answered.
	"A reasonable guess, but not quite correct." Came a voice from beyond
the remains of Sylia's bay windows.
	The curtains were pushed aside and Marina moved with a fluid blur of
speed to stand before Sylia.
	"We have very little time." She said.
	Her hand flashed and Sylia gasped as Marina's index finger touched her
neck once more. Almost immediately the pain and numbness began to ease and
strength began to return to her.
	"Don'--" Was all Priss could manage before Marina had dealt with her
and Nene in the same way.
	"Oneechan, we should go." Came another voice urgently from beyond the
curtains.
	"In a moment." She answered.
	"I apologise for deceiving you." She said. "In my defence I can only
swear that I had no more idea than you as to father's intentions."
	"You expect us to believe that?" Priss snarled.
	"Believe what you will." Marina answered. "I haven't time to argue
now. The key, at least that which Camilla was given, released his true intent
to me. The decision to drug you was my own, but I could think of no other way
to prevent you either from fleeing before I could correct the misconception
that I had betrayed you or from attempting to recover or destroy me before I
could rescue Camilla. I had only two choices, either to assume control of
Camilla's body remotely and have her tear her way from the tower or allow them
to believe I was theirs. The second seemed best, particularly in light of the
limitations they had placed on Camilla's plant. Also, it was necessary to see
that no more development could take place concerning the DA series boomer in
the immediate future. We killed the remaining scientists and destroyed the
data Yoshida had stolen concerning the project. Father was aware of what he
had done, but dared not tell me. There was also the possibility that Quincy
might guess at what he intended. He made allowances for that contingency also.
May I use this?"
	Without waiting for an answer, Marina moved to Sylia's console and
lifting a data-pad, she fished out a clean disk from the box beside it and
slipped it into the slot. A moment later she had connected a cable from it to
her neck port and had begun a dump.
	"Oneechan!" Cried the voice urgently once more.
	"A few moments." She answered.
	"This contains alterations and additions to the data you already
have," She continued, pulling out the cable and dropping the pad back to its
place. "also clues as to where to find us should you be able to understand
them. I'm sorry I can't explain more, but we have already risked both
ourselves and your lives by coming here. Farewell Sylia. Farewell all of you
and forgive me for what was unavoidable. Believe what you choose Priss, but
look for us when you least expect it, and when you most need help. We shall
not be far away. Farewell."
	And with that, she was gone, the curtains whipping aside and falling
back once more. The four women and the stunned youth beside them did not catch
so much as a glimpse of her companion before the roar of thrusters and a woosh
as the curtains moved a little signalled their departure.
	"And if you believe that" Said Priss darkly. "you'd believe anything."
	Sylia did not answer.

	The Demon's Kiss was a dive as dark and depraved as the name
suggested. Not that such places were unfamiliar to him, although he had never
dabbled in the trade in illegal drugs, cybernetics and the ever present human
flesh, alive or otherwise, for which such rat-holes were infamous. Weapons he
had bought for personal use or for those clients he knew he could trust not to
misuse or resell them, but nothing more. Appearances might be everything but
he intended to stay alive, sane and as discreet as he could. He had always
valued such virtues, the more so since the beginning of his dealings with the
Knight Sabres.
	Now Fargo sat, watching a tiny part of the ruins of Mega-Tokyo's
crawling population as they danced or sprawled in drugged or drunken oblivion
or moved about, aimlessly or otherwise as they sought a part of the traffic in
goods or varying depravities. This was the edge of the Canyons and even the
ADP tended to leave it alone, save for the occasional foray in strength.
	"Tachi?"
	The voice startled him. He had let his mind wander, his thoughts
straying again to the battered nondescript bag he carried, in which already
lay enough to seal his death should a very particular Genom scientist, Genom
itself or the figure now approaching him guess at what it contained.
	Turning, he regarded the man who had addressed him, his expression
carefully neutral in contrast to the turmoil in his mind, his left hand on the
table while his right clutched fiercely about the Earth-shaker he had already
manoeuvred to punch a heavy round through the dirty trench-coat and into the
man who was moving to seat himself on the farther side of the table, should it
prove necessary. The other would be doing the same, he was sure, but he was
equally sure he would be quicker, particularly given his current situation.
Desperation made one sharp, or careless.
	Hiding the gnawing terror, he forced his attention to the figure
before him.
	"I'm sorry," He said quietly, his eyes never leaving the other's face
and his voice mercifully steady. "you must be mistaken. There is no Tachi
here."
	"Good." Said the other simply, relaxing his guard and reaching for a
cigarette. "Join me?" He inquired.
	Without a word, Fargo reached for the proffered pack with his left
hand, his right never relaxing its hold on the pistol.
	"Calm." He commanded himself fiercely under his breath. "He isn't the
danger. ; calm, at least until this meeting is over."
	"I assume I will deal only with you?" The other continued, his hand
still resting on the packet.
	He smiled coldly and blew a slow plume of smoke that temporarily
shrouded his features.
	Fargo nodded wordlessly in response, clamping down viciously on the
terror that had leapt absurdly high at the other's frigid smile.
	"The data is here." The man continued simply, relaxing his hold and
sliding the cigarettes easily across the table. "Provide it to them in
whatever form you wish, but see that you do it quickly. We want everything
they can obtain concerning Genom's knew prototype and a very particular
scientist, and we are prepared to pay handsomely for their services. The man
they are to find is still alive so far as we can ascertain, but he will
certainly not live beyond the project's conclusion and we know that that isn't
far away. His name is Dr. Geovani Antonio Fellini and since sunrise he has
been the most dangerous man on the planet."
	Fargo sat unmoving, listening in numb, shocked silence as the agent
confirmed a very little of what he had known long before their meeting, his
face fixed in a desperate neutrality, until at last the man fell silent and
moved to retrieve his cigarettes. The fixer had already slipped the data-chip
from the packet with nerveless fingers.
	"Hardcopy?" He managed, his tone still not betraying him.
	"Everything is contained on that." Said the other simply. "Not usual
perhaps, but safer given the nature of the information we have given you."
	`And the nature of what we may be dealing with.' Fargo thought with a
dreadful lurch of his heart. `Oh God Sylia if this is true--! Yet it is
impossible. It *can't* be possible! Not even Genom--!'
	"Twelve million will be deposited when we are notified that our offer
has been accepted." The other was saying while he sat, barely listening.
"Payment beyond that will depend on the nature of the information we receive.
Our own sources assure us that Fellini has maintained extensive private
records concerning every aspect of the project."
	`And more.' Fargo thought with another shudder.
	"These are to be found in the laboratory beneath the mansion on his
family estate. He lives alone save for Liana, his only child and assistant,
and both have spent the greater part of the past two months within Genom
tower. The house has remained unattended for nearly fifteen days."
	"And the danger?" Said Fargo, his stomach knotting still more.
"Obviously there is considerable risk, or you would have had the data without
outside help."
	He needed to know, needed this last confirmation that what he had
already been given was the truth and not the insane ramblings of a lunatic.
	"We have sent three teams to Fellini's estate, one two days ago, one a
little after nightfall yesterday and the last at daybreak this morning.
Neither the first nor second returned. What little the last found of them
indicates that Fellini took more than a copy of the records. Given the Knight
Sabres' proficiency in dealing with boomers, we considered the price more than
worth the reward should they be able to retrieve Fellini's data."
	Then that at least had been the truth.
	"I need more, far more" He said, his tone frigid with concealed
anxiety. "before I contact them."
	"The chip contains a *very* detailed report concerning every aspect of
the information we have gleaned so far." The other replied. "You have the
facilities for examining it before you release it, I assume?"
	"It can be arranged." Said Fargo carefully. "Very well. I will contact
you with their decision."
	"And after I give them far more than you've told me." He ended
silently to himself.
	"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, stranger not Tachi."
Said the other with an amused smile.
	And without another word, he rose easily and moved quietly from the
table and towards the door.
	Once outside, he halted, glancing with apparent carelessness left,
then right. No one was visible save for two street-whores dressed in little
more than rags, their faces hidden in shadow as they lounged easily against
the dirty brickwork of the `Kiss' some twenty yards to his right, and another
lone girl of even shabbier appearance on the farther side of the street,
slumped in a drugged or drunken stupor.
	Smiling, he turned and moved quickly along the cracked and broken
paving of what had once been a busy highway, reaching the corner of the dive
and moving quickly into the alley that would take him to the black limousine
parked at its farther end and the three men waiting there. He did not see the
lone figure stir from her apparent stupor and move silently to follow him.
	The attack when it came was so quick that he had no time to so much as
comprehend what was happening. In one moment he was approaching the alley's
farther end and the light from the car. In the next something pierced his neck
and he was swimming in a warm fuzzy haze of sleepy bewilderment. His legs
folded and he crumpled to the ground, already unaware of anything save the
all-engulfing warmth and the faintest whisper of sound from the real world,
now an infinite reality from him.
	Soundlessly, the hooded figure caught the man as he fell, and lifting
him, moved with silent speed towards the limousine. Those inside had already
been dealt with in the same way. Seconds later, the man had been settled with
his companions in the back of the car and the figure had slipped in beside
another. A moment later, the car pulled away into the early afternoon and the
alley was empty once more.

	Quincy stirred at the insistent call of the pager-phone on the desk
almost by his hand. Closing the file he was reviewing, he set the data pad
aside, then lifted the phone without haste and unfolded it.
	"Report." He commanded simply.
	"The Chang representatives have just been taken, chairman." Came the
clipped, rumbling tones of the assassin observer.
	"As I predicted?" Quincy demanded.
	"She was used." The boomer answered.
	"And the others?"
	"The clues were sufficient. They were nearby, and observed, as you
indicated they would. Lee was chosen and has passed the Chang data to the
Knight Sabres' contact. He did not tell him to which group he belonged."
	"Then they are operating without her permission." Said Quincy.
"Excellent. It would have been a pity to have had to dispose of her."
	He smiled. When Reikka Chang learned of what had happened, the four
would be cut loose and helpless, and then--.
	"Very well." He continued. "Delete from yourself anything that would
identify the Sabre contact."
	"Done." The machine answered.
	"The limousine is proceeding as I predicted?"
	"They are being taken directly to the estate. Available data suggests
that they have already been injected."
	"It's of no consequence." Quincy replied. "Mapping takes far too long
for them to be of any danger. The two?"
	"Are following. They are aware of me as you wished, but she does not
appear to have been made aware of their nature."
	"See that it remains that way." Said the chairman. "Keep feeding data
to the other assassins and through the OMS sub-net. See that the primary OMS
access to them and to yourself remains inactive while you reprogram them, and
above all, see that all twenty are fully instructed before they are released.
I don't want even a fractional miscalculation."
	"Chairman." The boomer acknowledged.
	"Very well. Send the data to the Chang Mega-Tokyo office, then delete
everything concerning such a transmission. Report again when you reach the
estate."
	Without waiting for the boomer's acknowledgment, he closed the phone
and settled back comfortably in his chair.
	"Perfect, Zhuranovsky." He said quietly. "Now let us see of just what
exactly your enhancements prove capable. If I am correct, you will have very
little time, but enough. It should begin quite soon, I imagine."
	And with a chuckle, he turned his attention to the files once more.

	Suzuki Kimiko could not have been more ecstatic. This day would mark
the pinnacle of the rising from the ashes that had been a shattered, empty
nothingness before Divine Highness Sadako had found her beaten and broken in
an alley and had brought her to the great high-priest's exulted home and into
the fold of the Dark Mistress. And tonight at last, she would be reborn again
after so many years, her latest reincarnation bringing such power and glory as
to be beyond the comprehension of all save perhaps for the high-priestess and
the great high-priest themselves.
	Kimiko had seemed at first a poor proposition at best, used as she was
to being teased and despised for her tiny delicate figure and her hopeless
inability to fight in the brutal, street-brawling fashion which was the only
fighting the gang of dirty, ill-fed street-urchins of which she had been a
part for almost as long as she could remember, could understand. She had known
no other life, not since the day the terrible quake had killed her parents and
baby sister and brought her life of warmth and safety to a crashing, ruinous
end. The canyon gang had been all she had known of security, of little use to
them though she had been.
	Then had come the day, nearly a year before, when Genom had decided
that the shattered remains of the apartment block in which they lived had been
an obstacle to redevelopment and the four boomers had been instructed to go
rogue in its vicinity. Kimiko had been the only one of the gang to survive.
	At fifteen, she had found herself homeless and friendless once more in
a city she had learned to hate with a blind, raging passion for what it had
done to her. When the man from the "Kiss" had offered her what he called a
"position", she had almost accepted for the hope of money and the chance to
flee the hated Mega-Tokyo, but he had explained just what that "position"
would entail and she had refused and fled, knowing already what would happen.
They had found her after nightfall and begun the beating that had left her
shattered and barely breathing. They would have done more, but the black
limousine had drawn to a halt almost at the alley's entrance and the young
high-priestess had stepped from it with her entourage. The men had fled before
they could be identified and Kimiko had heard the woman order the men to bring
her, just before blackness closed about her.
	She had woken to find herself wrapped snug and warm in a bed in a
strange place. Then Sadako had come to her and told her where she was, and
offered her a place with those who believed themselves destined soon to rule
the world and beyond, once the unnamed "dark mistress", whose name could not
be known until she awoke, returned once more to lead them to power and glory
beyond even their wildest imaginings.
	At first Kimiko thought nothing of them or their insane absurdity of
religion, eager only to use them to pay back the wreaking, filth-infested
slime that was Mega-Tokyo and its stinking corporation for what they had done
to her life. Many of the tenets of the cult both sickened and revolted her and
their obsessive, fanatical mania, promiscuity and open depravities did less
than nothing to win either her friendship or respect. But she could wait. She
had learned to deal with such things on the streets while managing to keep
aloof from them, and the high-priestess seemed willing to protect her from
participation in the rituals of bonding and submission that so repulsed her,
saying that she was not yet ready. Just why she was doing so, Kimiko neither
knew nor cared, but she remained confident that she could continue to
manipulate her. Such a skill had been vital in a gang who had always been wary
of her because of her apparent physical helplessness and she had learned very
early in life that her mind would have to do what her body could not.
	Then, perhaps a month after her arrival, she had been roused from a
sound sleep in the middle of a chill rain-swept night by the high-priestess
and taken to the great hall of ritual beneath the house, and there she had
been given something that had brought her aloof self-certainty and her freedom
to an end. Just what had happened that night she could never afterwards
remember with any clarity, but she had woken at sunrise as fanatical and
absolute in her servitude as any and infinitely obedient to the high-
priestess's every wish.
	Her training, both as an acolyte and a fighter, had begun immediately
and within another four months she was both a priestess and personal attendant
to Sadako, and able to tear apart every one of the captured canyon refuse they
used to test their skill.
	Just how she had grown so fast and so brutally confident, she did not
care. All that mattered to her now was that the power of her Divine Majesty
was with her and within her, and in her name she would rise to her rightful
place as an elite amongst the future rulers of the earth and all things
thereupon.
	Kimiko stretched languidly beneath the light covering of the low bed
in her own small room. She had remained alone on this last night and morning,
something that had not happened since her conversion. But today was the
culmination of their waiting and her mistress had commanded that all meditate
alone during the hours of darkness and rest through the morning and into the
early afternoon before they began their final preparations for the return of
the high-priest and the coming of her Divine Majesty.
	Now it was time to rise and summon her own acolyte to bathe and dress
her for the ritual. She would be beside her mistress during the great
summoning at nightfall and carry the incense until it was set on the altar.
	Smiling with a predatory, savage anticipation that would have stunned
her erstwhile gang, Kimiko reached out in the way she had been taught and felt
the mind of the girl, giving it a quick, vicious tug of impatient urgency.
Moments later the door opened and the girl, actually nearly four years her
senior but considered of less potential, hurried into the room and knelt
beside the bed.
	"There's no time for--" Kimiko began, but the girl cut her short.
	"Highness Kimiko. Divine Highness commands your presence."
	"Then why--"
	But again the other cut in quickly. "She is occupied with the
interrogation. Four enemies of her Divine Majesty have been taken and brought
to the temple. They are in the great hall."
	"I can't go down like this!" Cried Kimiko irritably.
	"Divine Highness says she will wait," She answered. "but we must
hurry."
	Only a few minutes later, Kimiko passed the final guards and stepped
beyond the concealing hangings of the huge chamber of ritual. Light glowed
fitfully from the lamps set in their holders above the great altar at the
hall's farther end. Not that she needed light now. She could pick out the
auric signatures of everyone in the room with effortless precision. All were
visible save for the infidels, and even from them there came the faint initial
flicker that meant that their own conversion had begun. It would be twenty-
nine days before they would be ready for initiation, but time did not matter.
	Smiling savagely, Kimiko pushed her way to the front of the gathering
and knelt before her mistress, reaching to take and kiss her hand before she
rose at her command and took her place on the low cushions at her side. There
was, as always, a little muttering from some who considered themselves more
qualified than the newest priestess to fill this exulted position, but as
always she ignored them, fixing her attention on the four bound figures before
her.
	They were bound only for effect. She knew enough of the mysteries to
know that they were really of no danger in their present state, but it pleased
the cult at large to see them helpless, whilst also pleasing her Divine
Highness.
	"Silence."
	Sadako's tone was low, but her voice seemed to carry throughout the
hall and immediately the seventeen men and twenty-two women that made up her
Divine Majesty's chosen elite fell instantly silent, their entire attention
focussed on the high-priestess, Kimiko and the two other priestesses and three
priests that made up her entourage. Only the high-priest was missing, but he
was preparing in the very den of iniquity that was the centre of the accursed
stronghold of their enemies, in preparation for the night to come.
	"Let us begin." Sadako continued, fixing her attention upon the four
men. "You will answer my questions immediately and as truthfully as you can.
Any attempt to dissemble or deceive me and I shall have you dismembered where
you lie. Is that understood?"
	The four, her Divine Majesty's power already possessing them, would
have been instructed with great care concerning the facade that was being
played out here, Kimiko knew, as did the other priests and priestesses. The
men would remain infinitely obedient until woken and there was no need for
threats of any kind, but again, the cult as a whole needed to see their
mistress's power.
	Shivering in programmed terror, the four nodded, then abruptly, one
lifted his head and snarled at Sadako.
	`He must be of no use.' Thought Kimiko, then changed her mind as her
mistress turned.
	"No!" The man had obviously been instructed to gasp. "I understand. Oh
God please don't. No more."
	Kimiko smiled as the cult growled for his blood as an example to the
others.
	"Later perhaps." Purred Sadako. "Let us finish with them first. Then I
may allow you to play. We shall see."
	And with that, the questioning began.

	The first thing of which Lee Hao Seng was completely aware as the
dreamy oblivion receded was that he was cold. Then he felt the hard stone
against his face and hands and full reality sprang into being around him.
	Wherever he was, he was immediately certain that he was a prisoner. He
did not need the dank, damp smell and the bone-numbing, aching chill of the
stone beneath him to tell him of the basement cell into which he had been
commanded before the door had crashed to and the bolts slid into place. His
memory of the past hours was completely intact, even though he had not been in
control of his actions.
	Lee Hao Seng felt, more than any other emotion, fear, fear such as he
had never imagined he could feel, and mingling with it, so intense that he was
not certain which was the stronger, a slow building rage and determination to
pay his captors back a thousand times and then some for the humiliation of his
capture and his interrogation. Not that he was troubled concerning the
information he had given them. Of itself, it was all but useless. He had known
only what he had told the man who had called himself Tachi and the data was
now safely in his hands. The cult-woman's questions had been obvious, a mere
showing for her followers he was sure. She had not even stumbled upon the
connection between the data they required and the home of the Genom scientist
the Knight Sabres were to enter. No, it was not the pitiful scraps of
information they had thus-far extracted that so enraged and terrified him, but
the fact that he and the others had been caught so easily and rendered so
effortlessly cooperative, and what he had seen and overheard while still under
their influence. Whether they thought him too drugged to remember, or whether
they simply did not care, he had no idea. He knew only that he must escape
before nightfall.
	Lee Hao Seng stirred. His body felt as though it belonged to him again
and the all-engulfing dream-scape seemed to have vanished without trace.
Carefully, he rose to his feet and moved quickly about the tiny cell,
stretching and flexing while he searched for any form of surveillance. Finding
nothing, he was about to settle into a calming kata when he caught the first
faint sounds of approaching footfalls. Quickly, he moved to stand facing the
closed door. There was not enough room to conceal himself behind it or time to
form any real strategy. He would have only one chance to leap at whomever
entered and kill or seriously injure them before they could retaliate or raise
the alarm. Once he was out, he had no clear purpose other than to escape and
call in enough force to tear this place apart and take its inhabitants before
they completed the night's ritual.
	The footsteps drew near and Lee Hao Seng tensed, crouching low as the
unknown man or woman beyond the door halted and the bolts were slid aside.
Then the door was opening and Lee Hao Seng was moving.
	Almost before the door had been swung fully aside, he had leapt,
sweeping the figure's legs from the floor while his right hand slammed into
the yielding tissue of the throat. Then he was out and racing wildly along the
passage. There was no time to try to find his companions. He must get out, and
as quickly as he could.
	Had he looked back, he would have been stunned to see the prone form
get quickly to her feet, an almost inhuman mask of blazing, all-engulfing rage
twisting her features. Chosen or no, Kimiko swore that she would have Lee Hao
Seng screaming for forgiveness before she had finished with him. Such a
humiliation could not go unpunished. In the meantime, she must follow her
mistress's commands and see to it that he escaped with only token resistance.
The fragments of data they had let him overhear must reach the man Fargo, and
the Knight Sabres.
	Burying her rage for the moment, a chill vicious smile filling her
face, Kimiko turned and raced along the passage in pursuit of the fleeing man.

	Dr. Antonio Geovani Fellini was very far from pleased. The previous
night had all but seen the slow, careful revenge upon which he had prided
himself for so long come crashing to broken pieces around him, and now he was
trapped within the tower, confined as were the remainder of his team by the
actions of a nemesis he hated more than he could once have imagined could have
been possible, confined and impotent until this cursed travesty of a project
was brought to what that fool chairman considered a successful conclusion.
Fellini had to laugh at the bitter irony of that. Had that withered, senile
fool but known. But he would, and very soon. Oh yes, the world would know and
understand just how wrong Genom had been to dare treat his work with such
contempt, just how much more perfect a goal was his than that of the cursed,
traitorous filth who had dared to place himself before him. How they would
learn and how they would scream, if he ever had a chance to escape before
nightfall.
	Fellini cursed vehemently and swore that he would have Alexei
Ivanovitch Zhuranovsky screaming for death when he found him, before his
conversion of course, for daring to outmatch him and for so nearly destroying
months of careful planning. Of all the nights that stinking putrescence could
have chosen to escape, *why* did he have to choose the very night before the
awakening? Why could he not have waited a mere two more? There could only be
one reason. He had learned of Fellini's revenge and had planned to humiliate
him yet again in the eyes of the world, had wanted to prove to him that even
in his escape he could still triumph, still take from him the prestige and
glory that should have been his own.
	Cursing again, his mind a seething sea of hatred, Fellini stepped from
the tiny cell-like room that was the limit of his privacy in the quarters
behind the extensive complex in which he and his team had been working for the
past nine months, a complex which, as though for a final insult had been
quickly adapted over the past two months to mirror the final stages of the
project of his nemesis, reaching up a lean, long-fingered hand to slap
savagely at his tangled shock of wiry black hair as he moved along the passage
towards the exit to the apartments. It didn't seem to matter what he did with
it, it always infuriated him.
	"You should cut it off if it annoys you so much." Came a sudden amused
female voice from the direction of the large communal livingroom the fifteen
scientists, the support staff and the figure who had spoken were to share.
	A moment later, the girl stepped from the doorway and moved quickly to
his side.
	She was tall, taller by several inches than Fellini, and slim, her
long flaming-red hair tumbling in a wild, unruly cascade a little below her
waist. Slashing jade eyes flashed with a chill, barely suppressed mirth as she
studied the tight, anxious expression of the scientist.
	"I'm not in the mood Liana." He said simply.
	"Oh, what's the matter?" She taunted sweetly, moving to lay a long
slender hand on his arm. "Is father consumed with a little fit of hatred
again; perhaps anxious concerning what is to happen this evening, or that his
daughter cannot play her part to perfection? You've really nothing to worry
about. Those fools simply have no idea, and *I* do not intend to make any
mistakes."
	By the time she had finished, her tone was anything but playful.
	"Shh for Christ's sake!" He hissed urgently, turning to glare
malevolently at the girl. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"
	Liana's eyes went wide in mock disbelief, her left hand flying to her
mouth as she clicked her tongue in disapproval.
	"Such a temper and such language!" She exclaimed in mock distaste, her
playful, condescending tone serving only to further enrage Fellini. "They
*would* be displeased father, were they to find out; and to me into the
bargain." She giggled softly, seeming unable to contain her mirth. "I could
have you *executed* in the most inventive of fashions were they ever to hear
of it."
	She smiled, her look suddenly icily cold and Fellini had to remind
himself yet again that she was no danger. Then the amused condescension was
back and her green eyes flashed again with mirth, her hand straying to his
unruly hair.
	"You needn't be uneasy." She purred, patting it reassuringly while he
stood unmoving and raged in silent frustration with her. "You will be too
useful to destroy," She giggled again. "and as for tonight, we can leave at a
moment's notice and I've already replenished our supply. The rest can be--"
	"Shut; up!" He growled in a low savage snarl. "Do you want the whole
of Genom to hear?"
	"Oh father you really are too amusing." She said with a toss of her
head. "You surely wouldn't expect that I hadn't taken that into
consideration?"
	"Damn you to hell Liana." He said, a sudden hard smile flickering on
his own face. "Shall we go?"
	"I came to tell you that the others are already waiting. We're to
perform one last test on that refuse Yoshida, then prepare pretty Madeleine.
Are you going to make changes to her? I should like to keep her undamaged if I
can. She's *very* far from unappealing, and since your oh-so-generous
modifications--." She licked her lips and Fellini allowed himself a brief
relaxing moment of vicious self-satisfaction as the enormity of the perversion
of what was so precious to his nemesis and the perfection of at least this
aspect of his revenge was brought home to him once more.
	"Not to Amura." He said coldly, the moment of respite vanishing as
quickly as it had come. "She's as good as useless. There are a thousand
candidates with her abilities more suited to what I need. As for playthings,
you will have more than enough after tonight."
	"Hmph." Said Liana, pouting and glaring in return. "It's not the same
and you know it. I want her. You'll be keeping what remains of Yoshida for the
control-net. What concern of yours if I keep little Madeleine? Besides, I need
a confidante entirely of my own kind. With a little instruction she should
prove more than ideal."
	"I *will* be keeping Yoshida." He agreed. "He might be insane after
the test, but he is inventive and that quality combined with his animal
cunning might well prove invaluable. But as for Amura, it would be impossible,
even were I to agree. Quincy has commanded her activation, and we can't afford
to show our hand before we have the means to enforce it." Then more quietly,
as though to himself. "But why Amura I wonder, and not Daitokuji? What is that
senile old imbecile trying to do?"
	"You're the genius." Snapped Liana, the mockery and condescension now
tempered by an almost palpable infantile petulance and growing fury. "You work
it out. But as for Madeleine; she's mine, whatever you or anyone else may
say."
	`We'll see, my viperous little ticket to absolute power.' He thought.
	"We'd better hurry." He said aloud, seeming to have ignored her little
tantrum. "I want this over with as quickly as possible. We've wasted more than
enough time as it is and we *do* have other things to attend to before
nightfall, or had you forgotten?"
	"*You've* wasted enough time." She amended curtly. "I am *perfectly*
aware of what *I* have to do. Shall we go?"
	And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him, her
head up and her back ram-rod straight.
	Sighing in apparent exasperation but with a frigid smile of triumph on
his face, Fellini hurried in her wake, a low, wild laugh escaping his lips as
he followed her from the apartments.
	As soon as the door had closed, an inspection panel slid silently
aside and a moment later a tiny human-like figure little larger than that of a
new-born child slipped from concealment and made its way with silent speed
towards the rear of the apartments and the balcony beyond. Reaching it, it
leapt skywards, tiny thrusters carrying it within seconds to an open window
upon the top-most floor of the tower some fifty floors above. A moment later
it was inside once more and moving swiftly towards the office of the chairman.

	He was in trouble. Fargo had known that the moment the flash and crack
had sent Lee Hao Seng tumbling from his seat on the farther side of the table
to lie in a quickly growing pool of blood on the floor of the "Kiss."
	He had received the call a little over twenty minutes before, the
voice barely recognisable as that of the man with whom he had negotiated
barely three hours since.
	"Need help. The arranged place, as soon as you can. Vital information.
I'll be waiting."
	Fargo had barely entered the hot, stifling atmosphere of the dive when
he had caught sight of Lee waving urgently to him from a table not far from
the door. The man had looked very little like the cold, self-assured operative
he had seen. His face had been dead-white and tense with pain and his eyes had
seemed barely to focus as Fargo had taken his place opposite to him.
	"I may not have much time." Lee had begun. "I'd intended to call for
back-up, but I've been followed ever since I escaped and whatever they did,
it's worse than it was."
	As though to illustrate, his body had convulsed and he had clutched
suddenly desperately at his head.
	"What--" Fargo had demanded.
	"Shut up and listen." The other had gasped.
	And while Fargo sat stunned, Lee had filled in the last gaps in the
knowledge he already possessed and set a slow, sick nausea crawling through
his stomach.
	"I took a car; there were nearly thirty in the garage." Lee had ended.
"They were ready to go; they must have planned it from the beginning. It was
only when I reached the outskirts of the city and the thing died that I
realised it had been too easy. They were already waiting; knew exactly where I
was. But I was lucky; another car. I made the driver take me; pulled the gun
on her that I'd found in the glove-box. This."
	He had lifted it to show the fixer. Then the shot had cracked from the
doorway and Lee's body was tumbling across the floor.
	There had been some screaming, but the panic had been muted until the
four suited figures had burst in, guns already blazing. Fargo had dived aside,
grappling for his own heavy pistol while catching up the other that had spun
from Lee's hand. One of the four had turned towards him, then pitched
backwards in a spray of blood as someone shot him from a stool at the bar.
Within another few seconds it had been over, the four men sprawled lifeless by
the door.
	Fargo had not waited to see what happened next. A steady stream of
people were pushing their way frantically from the Kiss and Fargo had joined
them, shoving his way to the centre of the mass until he was out of the dive
and moving quickly with them along the broken paving towards the comparative
cover of the narrow alley-ways beyond. Then the particle-beam had sizzled from
above and Fargo had begun to run.
	"Keep going. Just keep going." He told himself again.
	But his lungs screamed in protest and the blood pounded wildly in his
ears. From before him came the reflection of yet another searing flash from
behind and yet more screaming told that the supposed rampage was still going
on. Fargo knew better.
	Ducking into yet another narrow lane, Fargo staggered, almost falling
as he struggled vainly to right himself. Then from behind came a sudden
searing hiss, and light seemed to erupt around him and the ground left his
feet as the explosion pitched him into the air like a rag-doll.
	Crying out more from shock than pain, Fargo somersaulted twice, both
guns flying from his hands. Then he was crashing through a pile of some
nameless alley refuse and from behind came a roar and crash as what sounded
like half what had still been standing of the building he had just passed came
crashing into the street.
	Desperately Fargo staggered up once more, glancing about in the vain
hope of finding at least one of the pistols.
	"Excuse me; did you drop these?" Came a woman's voice from behind him.
	Fargo began to turn. Then something hit him and the world dissolved
into the soft, velvet blackness of a drugged oblivion.

	"Sis? Hey Sis?"
	Mackie's voice filtered slowly into the blissful nothingness, then his
hand was on her shoulder, shaking her gently awake.
	Sylia shifted uneasily in the chair in which she had fallen asleep,
then stirring she stretched slowly and opened her eyes.
	"How long have you been here?" Mackie demanded, setting down a tray
and reaching for the half-empty coffee-cup his sister had obviously set aside
hours before.
	"Mm?" She inquired blearily. "Oh, since the others left early this
morning. I was reviewing and correlating the additional data Marina gave us,
and the hardsuit data from last night. I was trying to find a counter to the
33. I think it's impossible. Zhuranovsky knew his subject too well."
	She sighed, her head lolling back wearily as she stared at the still-
active console before her, the schematics seeming to dance in senseless,
endless cascade before her still-weary eyes. "What time is it?"
	"Nearly four." He answered quietly. "You should rest, and in bed.
Here," He added, pushing a fresh cup of tea into her hand.
	"It had to happen." Sylia continued as though she hadn't heard him,
lifting the cup and sipping with little enthusiasm. "It was only a matter of
time before it came to this. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken them so
long."
	"You think the DA was designed with us in mind?" Mackie said quietly.
	"There's little doubt that our presence played at least some part."
She answered.
	Setting the nearly full cup aside, she rose slowly to her feet.
	"I'm going to get cleaned up, then call the others." She said simply.
"We need to talk. Then I'm going to call Marina and Camilla and see what they
have to offer."
	"You're thinking of including them, aren't you." He said, his tone
still quiet.
	It was a statement rather than a question.
	"I don't see that we have much choice." She answered, her own tone
unnervingly calm and measured. "As I've said, they could destroy us at a whim.
Our only chance is to observe them at close quarters until either I can find
some inherent weakness in the DA design or they prove that they can be
trusted, in which case the problem becomes less urgent and we restore the
balance of power, at least for a while. Not even Genom I imagine would be
stupid enough to have DA-33s go rogue in a populated area. I hope Quincy might
put our taking two of the machines down to experience and not escalate the
conflict further. After all, it wouldn't do should too many people learn that
the two additional Knight Sabres were DAs. So long as we keep their identities
quiet and they appear to use none of their own systems in general combat,
things might return to some semblance of what they were before, for a little
at least."
	"Assuming they *can* be trusted." Said Mackie.
	"The point is moot." Said Sylia simply. "If they can't, we're already
dead."
	"And the balance?" He inquired. "How long will it be before Genom
bring out another machine, and better?"
	"Again, they probably won't risk another similar tactic. This was a
trump they cannot afford to play again. Should they lose this round or should
we manage a draw, I don't think they will try something like this in the near
future. The DA is a very dangerous adversary and I doubt even that Quincy will
wish to escalate the situation by antagonising them. In any case, we have very
little choice but to play the game to the end."
	She sighed. "Now I'm going to shower and change. You might want to
take a look at the data yourself. If they agree to my proposal or us to
their's, we'll need several modifications to the motoroids they'll be using. I
may not be able openly to use their full combat capabilities but I can
certainly use their enhanced strength and speed. After all, even the 33S could
manage that with a genuine suit and their's won't have to be anything other
than cosmetic. I won't be long."
	And taking the tea and also a cream-cake from the tray, Sylia moved
quickly to the door and left the room.

	"You didn't give me much warning." Nene complained miserably, staring
blearily and lifting a hand to her still-pounding head. "I'm supposed to be on
night-shift this evening."
	She was still in bed, having been woken by the phone and the results
of the excesses of the night before were still very much in evidence. "Can't
it wait? I wanna get more sleep."
	"No." Said Sylia simply, her own expression nevertheless softening a
little as she studied the youngest member of her team.
	Nene's red hair was a tangled cascade and her green eyes were
bloodshot and seemed to have trouble focusing.
	"Oh alright." She sighed, pulling a face. "I'll be there as soon as I
can. I don't suppose the others complained?" She added hopefully.
	"I called you first." Said Sylia with a sudden mock-cruel smile.
	"What!" Nene exclaimed. "I could've had another few minutes."
	Turning away in disgust she lay down once more, curled up into a ball
and pulled the covers up over her head.
	"Nene! Behind you!"
	Sylia's voice was suddenly almost ear-splittingly loud as she put her
mouth to the phone and nearly shouted the imaginary warning.
	"AIYAAGGHH!" Nene shrieked, shooting bolt upright and trying to turn
at the same time.
	The bedclothes had other ideas. For a moment she flailed wildly,
trying desperately to disentangle herself and look everywhere at once. Then
with another shriek and a thud she tumbled to the floor and lay in a heap.
>From the phone came the sound of Sylia's suddenly almost girlish laughter.
	"You wait!" Nene exclaimed, struggling from the tangle and glaring at
her.
	"Gladly, but not too long." Sylia answered.
	And with another smile and an imperious wave, she broke the
connection.
	"You'll be sorry. Just wait! You'll be just so sorry!" Nene shrieked,
her heart still racing as she got at last to her feet.
	She glared furiously at the phone for a moment, then her face broke
into a grin and giggling she began to make some sense of the bed before moving
to shower and dress.

	"Well?"
	Quincy's tone was cool and quiet as he regarded the tiny figure before
him.
	The boomer shifted, her tiny delicate face impassive as she moved
closer until it was only inches from his own.
	"The game is being played exactly as you predicted master." She
answered quietly.
	Her voice was surprisingly mature for a creature of her size but the
tiny mouth nevertheless gave it a piping, childlike quality. "Fellini is
suspicious, but he can't understand why you chose Madeleine."
	"And--?"
	"Performing exactly to specifications." The machine interrupted
easily. "Shall I replay the recording?"
	"Add it to the data; I'll watch it in a few minutes." He said.
	Without a word, the diminutive boomer lowered herself with a fluid
grace to a sitting position, one tiny hand reaching for the unit Quincy had so
recently set aside. A moment later she had attached a cable to a port in her
left wrist and data was streaming from her to the micro-palm-top beside her.
	"Done." She said after a second or so, removing the cable and standing
once more.
	She lifted her wrist, holding it to her delicate mouth for a moment,
then dropping her hand once more she danced a curtsy to the chairman.
	"Shall I return to Fellini?" She inquired.
	"There's no longer any need." He answered. "I already have two eyes
and two ears close to Fellini."
	"Then I can go to them, now?" She said, sudden excitement tinging her
small voice.
	"Not just yet." He said. "I need to be certain that Fargo reaches the
Knight Sabres before this evening's proceedings begin and that will not be
long. I imagine I can trust the two to deliver him; he has already been taken;
but I must be certain. The Knight Sabres must be close to the place of refuge
*before* Fellini is allowed to escape. See to it, if necessary. Observe if
not."
	"Yes master." She answered.
	"Once you are certain Fargo has been delivered unharmed you can begin
to track them. However, see that you remain out of sight until the perfect
moment. Do you understand?"
	"I understand." She said quietly.
	"Very well. You may go."
	The diminutive machine curtsied once more. Then with a lithe bound she
was across the expanse of the office and a moment later the door had closed
behind her.
	"The final test." Said Quincy quietly. "If you match or outshine my
expectations Sylia, then--."
	And with a smile, he lifted the palm-top and began to watch the
recording of the interplay between Fellini and the girl everyone within Genom
tower save the scientist and himself believed to be his daughter.

	"I can't believe it! I *really* can't believe it!"
	Priss was standing with her back to Sylia's repaired bay window, hands
on her hips as she glared furiously across at her.
	Sylia, completely unperturbed, relaxed with apparent ease in an
armchair, sipping at her tea while regarding Priss with calm implacable eyes.
"You want to make those two-- those two things Knight Sabres! Are you
serious!"
	"I've never been more so." Said Sylia quietly.
	"Are you sure that thing didn't give you too much of whatever it was
this morning!" Priss exclaimed. "You're absolutely crazy. No way am I gonna
trust one of those. I don't give a damn what you or them or anyone else says.
The things are Genom military sh*t and if you really think I'm gonna trust a
piece of Genom sh*t with my back--"
	"Priss, calm down and listen."
	Sylia's tone was as reasonable as before but her eyes showed just a
hint of kindling anger. "You're already dead. You've been dead since Marina
identified you. There is absolutely *no reason* for the DAs to dissemble with
us. They have all they need to kill or take us whenever they wish."
	"Maybe they're waiting for further instructions." Priss snarled back.
	"Why?" Sylia answered simply. "What possible purpose would delaying
our capture serve? Think. If they are Genom operatives they might just as well
take us immediately."
	"And suppose they want to observe to see how we interact so the next
copies are perfect?" Priss demanded.
	"They already have enough data for that." Sylia answered simply.
"Priss you don't seriously believe that Genom haven't been recording every
move we make during combat? I'm not guaranteeing anything. The possibility
exists that the DAs have been instructed to play particular roles until it's
no longer necessary, but at least if they're with us we can keep them under
constant surveillance while I search for a counter or a design weakness we can
exploit, assuming any such weakness exists. A forlorn hope perhaps, but it's
the only one we have. It's up to you. I can't force you to agree to my
proposal, and I certainly won't make the offer unless I have unanimous
consent, but I can't see any other way. We *cannot* beat them as things stand
Priss, our suits couldn't even come close, but the most important limitations
are in here." She pointed to herself, then to each of them in turn. "The DAs
are simply too fast and too intelligent. They represent a revolution in
military hardware and no matter what I do with the suits we will *never* match
them."
	"Then why the hell did you upgrade the thing?" Priss demanded almost
in a shriek.
	"Because it was academic whether we had to fight a DA Standard or
Elite and we needed Marina to deal with Camilla." She answered simply. "I had
to work under the assumption that Zhuranovsky had removed all Genom influence.
If he has and the two are genuine in their intentions, then we have restored
the balance, at least for a while. If not, then at the least we have the
chance to observe and search for a fault, slim as that chance may be. It will
give me time Priss, time we desperately need."
	Priss sat silent, her red-brown eyes darting between the faces of the
only people she could truly call a family. Nene was nodding slowly in
agreement with Sylia's explanation. Linna, who had only seen and heard what
Sylia's security system had recorded of the DAs' time in the apartment sat
very still, her expression sombre as her eyes roved restlessly about the room,
yet Priss felt that she too saw no other way. To her surprise it was Mackie
who seemed most uncertain. He was shaking his head slowly and his face was
tight and grim as he watched his sister intently.
	For a long moment Sylia remained, her gaze fixed intently upon Priss's
face as she watched the struggle play itself out in the young singer's mind.
Slowly, Priss stirred as though to speak. Then in the next moment a faint
sound beyond the door to the apartment brought all of them to their feet. The
security system had not indicated any intruder, which left little doubt as to
their callers.
	"I'll answer it." Said Sylia quietly.
	"Not alone." Said Priss, drawing the heavy pistol and moving with
Sylia to the door.
	Sylia sighed inwardly at the pointlessness of Priss's action but
smiled to her as she unlocked the door and swung it aside.
	"Come in Mar--" She started to say.
	In the next instant she staggered back as Fargo's limp form tumbled
against her and slid to lie in a crumpled heap at her feet.

	He was alive. That was the first thought that penetrated the
blackness. Then the oblivion was receding at frightening speed and a moment
later full awareness came to him and he gasped and began to stir.
	"Welcome back." Said a quiet familiar voice close before him.
	Fargo gasped and opened his eyes.
	For one confused moment he expected to find himself in one of the many
meeting-places he had chosen, or perhaps in some hospital or secret sterile
room with banks of monitors and tubes connected to his arms and legs. The
reality was so utterly unexpected that it seemed almost absurd.
	He was seated in a comfortable armchair in what seemed to be an
apartment livingroom while she sat facing him across a low table, a cup held
in one hand while the other rested lightly on the battered case he had carried
and which now stood on the floor beside her chair. Glancing passed her, he saw
that they were alone in the room and that its door was closed and the curtains
had been drawn.
	"I must admit that of all the things I could have expected, to have
you dumped almost in my lap was among the least."
	"I don't recall having much choice," He said quietly. "in fact, I
don't recall arriving here at all, wherever here is."
	"Hardly surprising." Sylia answered with a smile and a knowing look.
He wasn't going to find that out he realised. "You were drugged and left here
with a note tucked in a pocket of that appalling coat of your's assuring me
that you'd wake in less than half an hour, the reason you're here and not
somewhere a little less conspicuous."
	"Meaning that I'm a dangerous commodity?" He answered with a crooked
smile of his own.
	"That remains to be seen," She said. "but if what I've seen so far of
what you have here is any indication" She tapped the case. "I should say a
long, if not a permanent holiday might well be in order."
	Fargo shivered.
	"I'm sorry Sylia." He said, his tone suddenly quiet and intensely
sincere. "Believe me, I had no idea that our connection had been so much as
hinted at."
	"There's no proof that it has, at least by Genom." She said quietly.
"You have nothing to apologise for. The DAs are formidable adversaries, if
they are adversaries."
	Fargo stared at her in open-mouthed shock.
	"You know about them?" He gasped. "I was gathering information; I had
intended to warn you before, but it was all hearsay and rumour and I had no
evidence. Then early this afternoon--"
	"I, or rather we found out purely by chance last night." She said
quietly. "However that's not important now. You say you intended to contact
me?"
	"Yes." He answered.
	And while she listened, he told her of his meeting with Lee Hao Seng.
	"You think he is, or rather *was* a rebel?" She said calmly.
	"If my information is correct, yes." He answered. "I don't believe
Reikka Chang had been informed of the Mega-Tokyo branch's intentions to hire
the Knight Sabres."
	"Mm." She said quietly. "But that's not the reason you're so uneasy,
and I'm certain that's not the reason Genom, if it was Genom, had Lee
terminated."
	"It's all in there." He jabbed a finger at the case. "The research,
the evidence, and a--" He shuddered. "a sample of the weapon; assuming the
phial hasn't shattered."
	Abruptly he laughed, a short hard sound. "But then if it had, I doubt
I'd be talking to you now."
	"Meaning?" She demanded.
	"Meaning that Zhuranovsky's research was only half the project." He
answered quietly.
	And while Sylia turned slowly deathly pale, Fargo told her all he
knew.

	"I can't call in sick again Sylia." Nene protested. "If things are
going to blow up tonight--."
	Mackie had left a little over an hour before to drive a willingly
blindfolded Fargo to the garage where he could remain hidden until they could
contact Marina to see whether it was safe to let him return to the streets and
the others were gathered again in Sylia's livingroom after having listened
first via the security system to, then to a replay of the talk between him and
Sylia. All had been horrified by what Fargo had told her, but none more than
Priss.
	She sat, a glass of strong wine in her hand and glared moodily out of
the window.
	"Nene I wouldn't ask if we didn't need you." Said Sylia quietly.
	Her own tone was, as always, unnervingly calm, yet all of them could
see the shock and tension she was trying to conceal. "We have to take the
estate tonight while that madman is still in the tower and we've already lost
precious time. If we don't--."
	"Couldn't we warn Genom?" Said linna, her voice almost shrilling in
desperation. "If they release those things sylia and we're caught--!"
	"What?" Priss demanded, snapping out of her apparent stupor and
whirling to glare at her.
	"Perhaps," Said Sylia. "but even assuming they're not aware of what
Fellini intends to do and plan to use his treachery as a test, there would be
little they could do. A strike-team of combat boomers isn't exactly what's
needed tonight, at least not if pre-emptive action is to be taken. We--"
	She was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.
	Moving quickly to it, she answered it to see Mackie's face, his
expression as frantic as she had ever known it.
	"Six boomers!" He said urgently. "About five blocks away. I'd just
started back when the rampage began. Whatever the hell they are they're not C-
55s and they're aiming at people rather than property."
	"Damn!" Sylia exploded vehemently. "When--?"
	"I'll be there in a few minutes." He assured her.
	"WE'LL be waiting."
	She broke the connection and turned to face the others.
	"I think it's started." Was all she said.

	Madigan stood once more before the chairman, his steel-hard gaze fixed
appraisingly on her as she waited for him to speak.
	"It has begun?" He said calmly.
	"The first six were activated two minutes ago, almost on the edge of
the canyons." She answered. "They are performing flawlessly. The second four
are waiting inside the Hot Legs nightclub and will be activated ten minutes
from now. That should give the Knight Sabres time to reach the first site and
engage them. The third will begin their rampage starting at the Tinsel City
bank seven minutes after the second. The fourth have reported that they have
found the hotel in which the DA-33s have taken refuge. They are ready to track
them the moment the Bu-12B rampage begins. Do you want the building levelled?"
	"Ensure as much destruction as possible." Quincy answered simply.
"There is still no word concerning Zhuranovsky?"
	"He is not with the DAs and the assassins have detected nothing so
far."
	"Very well. When will the transport pass the hotel?"
	"Exactly eight minutes after the third rampage begins." Madigan
answered. "The four Bu-12Bs have been instructed to destroy their transport
ten seconds after it passes the building. They will make for it immediately
after that."
	"Excellent." Said Quincy. "And our final trump?"
	"Is waiting outside. Do you want to see her now?"
	"Alone." He answered. "You know what to do regarding Fellini."
	"Perfectly." Madigan assured him, her face suddenly a mask of ice as
she smiled.
	"Very well." Said Quincy. "You may go."
	Madigan bowed deeply, then turning she moved quickly across the plush
expanse of the office to the door, pausing for a moment on the threshold to
beckon forwards the tall figure who stood cloaked in shadow beyond.
	"The chairman is waiting." She said, and hurried quickly away.
	A moment later the figure stepped into the room and glided silently to
the desk of the chairman. There she stood facing him, still as though cast in
marble. She was very tall and exotically beautiful, her long raven-black hair
tumbling in a wild cascade to her waist, her face an unreadable mask. Only in
the dark eyes could one see into the soul that lay beyond, and in those eyes
was a hatred more absolute than the chairman had ever seen; and it pleased
him.
	For a long moment neither spoke, then slowly the tall woman stirred.
	"Give me one reason Dr. I should not tear you apart where you sit."
She snarled softly.
	Quincy stirred and a slow cold smile spread across his face.
	"The answer to that Ligeia is simple." He said calmly. "As with your
namesake in Poe's tale, you will not own this body until I determine the time
to be perfect. Madeleine, would you mind?"
	And in that moment shock filled the face and eyes and Madeleine Amura
began to scream.

	Fellini was in a pathological rage.
	The tests on what was left of Yoshida had been flawless so far as the
chairman's requirements were concerned, but utterly useless for his purposes.
He could not have believed that they could have been so incompetent. The
idiots had taken too long to preserve him and he had suffered severe brain-
damage with the result that the data Fellini had been able to copy was a
mocking travesty of what he needed. He had wanted, tried to demand, that he be
allowed to perform the experiment on Daitokuji, insisting that he couldn't
possibly guarantee Amura's safe transfer without a successful test, but the
chairman was adamant that Madeleine be prepared without delay.
	Seething in impotent fury, Fellini had ordered the still inactive DA-
33 that had been moved early that morning to the hastily converted laboratory,
removed from her tank and upgraded while the last DA-2134 prototype was burned
with the base driver firmware, only to discover that he was to provide only
the Amura data and an OMS bootstrap and that the chairman had made other
arrangements regarding the DA's initialisation.
	Fellini had wanted to storm to Quincy's office and blow the senile old
fool's head through the window, but he had forced himself to calm. None of
this was important. Once he and Liana reached his estate and the others they
would learn whom to obey. Oh yes, they would learn.
	Fellini had been somewhat amused to see Liana's reaction when he told
her what was to happen. She had stepped a pace towards him, her face twisting
in a paroxysm of vicious, puerile rage. She had remained still for a moment,
then with a low snarl she had whirled away from him and stormed to where the
technicians were still busy with the boomer. There she had remained, seething
in one of the blackest most dangerous moods in which Fellini had ever seen
her, watching silently as they completed their work and reassembled the DA
while he had watched her and tried to contain his own sadistic laughter. His
revenge could not have been more beautiful.
	It had taken several minutes for the ragged remains of the disguising
skin to cover the machine once more, even under the intense radiation to which
she had been subjected to speed the repair. Through the growth and activation,
Fellini had remained seemingly impassive, even as his rage at the pointless
loss of Yoshida had surged and blazed, fighting with his twisted contentment
as he watched Liana until it seemed that he could not tell which was the more
potent of the two emotions. Even when the tall, raven-haired Ligeia had been
linked into the OMS under the control of the simple bootstrap driver and had
risen to move to the door, Fellini had remained as though frozen at Liana's
side, watching unmoving as the empty DA-33E left the laboratory, the door
hissing almost silently closed behind her. It had been a cold hand on his arm
that had brought him back to the present at last.
	Slowly he stirred, seeming only now to look with rational sight at the
men and women who stood now almost silent, gazing uncertainly about them as
though awaiting some further command. For a long moment he remained still,
then at last he stirred.
	"You may stand down for the present." He said quietly, his own voice
seeming to him to come from some great distance.
	Then without another word he turned and stalked from the laboratory,
Liana gliding silently beside him. Not until they had reached the apartments
behind the research centre and were alone in their tiny three-room suite did
he turn to her.
	"It's time to leave." Was all he said.

	"And if you expect me to stand by while good men and women get blown
to sh*t because of your incompetence then you know what the hell you can do."
	Leon McNichol whirled away and stormed from the office.
	"McNichol!  Get your sorry behind back in here!" The chief screamed.
	Leon paid no attention.
	"Idiot!" He hissed with far more than his usual vehemence as he strode
back to his desk and snatched up the cup of lukewarm coffee.
	Tossing it back with a grimace of disgust he dropped wearily behind
the desk once more.
	It had not been a good day for him. It had started with him arriving
to find that Nene would not be on shift until that evening, which put two
investigations of his own that required her particular talents on hold until
he saw her. Then there had come a report of boomer trouble at the docks and he
and Daley had gone down there to find nothing. Then in the early afternoon a
call had come in concerning another rampage, this one near one of the dives on
the edge of the canyons. Again he had gone, and this time there was nothing
but dead bodies and a smashed building or too, and some of the bodies looked
suspiciously as though they had been shot with heavy pistols; not exactly
boomer ammo.
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