http://members.aol.com/deunan/index.htm
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MegaTokyo 2033
Face to Face
       A BGC Fanfiction
       by Deunan(deunan@aol.com)
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	So what that he was a waiter.  His job was great.  The wages were 
decent, the tips were high, but it was the show he loved.  Actually, it was
more like a play with numerous plots and subplots, with deeds both pure and
foul.  The characterization and the emotional scenes were excellent.  The
actors and actresses were most superb, for they did not act at all.  For
hours at a time, he could just watch people going about their business or
just enjoying themselves.  He was by no means a voyeur. His observations were
always in public be it airports, train stations, or even a mall.  
	The woman at table eight intrigued him.  An air of confidence and
intelligence seemed to emanate from her.  Though coldly beautiful like a 
well forged blade, she sat conspicuously alone.  Her short hair seemed to be
of a bluish tint in style with the current fads; it accented her ageless 
features.  'It is a crime for that  woman to be alone,' he thought.
He was tempted to walk over and take her order, although it was not his 
table.  Then a man entered and sat down across from the woman.
	he man was tall and well built, perhaps fifty or sixty years old.
His face was jagged and rough with lines to show he had not experienced an
easily life.  His snow white hair was shoulder length.  His eyes seemed 
almost predatory, hawk like.  He smiled and sat back.  The voices were too
low and the distant too great to listen, but watching was enough.
***##***##***##***

	The waiter placed the bottle of wine on the table and left leaving
them alone.  Sylia poured herself a glass and took a sip never once taking
her eyes off the her mortal enemy.  She did not trust him for one moment, a 
derringer lay in her purse, a was snub-nosed submachine gun under her shirt.
 She carried two knives in an wrist and ankle sheath.  From the way he
walked, he most likely was armed also.
	"Excellent," she commented placing the glass back onto the table. 
"1999, is it not?"
	Quincy grunted softly, "Bioengineered grapes, a new product likely to
hit the market in two weeks.  They are only a week old."
	"Yet another economic victory for Genom," Sylia replied in disgust. 
"Single-handedly destroying the wine market."
	"Most likely making existing bottles more valuable.  When the public
buys the cheaper biogrown, the existing vintages will become more rare and 
expensive."
	"I'll have to remember to buy some shares in that company," she said 
narrowing her gaze.  Quincy took a sip and leaned back in his chair. 
	"You make it seem that it was my fault.  Genom is not all evil.  Is
that not what you said to that girl...Lisa something or another?"  
	"Something to that effect."  
	Quincy sighed, "Does not that hate get...tiresome?  An intellect of
your capacity is wasting its talents.  You can't defeat me without the
backlash killing thousands.  Imagine all those power hungry fools battling 
for control of my position.  Chaos not only in MegaTokyo but around the 
world."
	"Unless you seek immortality you will die eventually, and those 
power hungry fools will battle it out.  No matter how many artificial organs
or cybernetic limbs, the brain will wither and die."
	"Immortality?  Do you believe me to be a fool?  Mason was a fool to
the end with his damn dreams.  You were merciful to kill him.  Immortality
breeds nothing but boredom and weariness.  Better to burn brightly for a few
moments than to fade away,"  Quincy sneered.  "You gain nothing by continuing
your foolish crusade."
	Sylia smiled slightly, "I've gained more than you realize.  Power
enough to counter the corruption of your company and...,"
	"And?"
	"Your respect.  We are the two most powerful forces in MegaTokyo foes
to the bitter end," she stated matter-of-factly, "yet we dine together with
only our mutual respect keeping us from drawing our weapons."
	Quincy chuckled ironically. "Ironic is it not,  You interest me Sylia
Stingray.  You are not naive like your father nor foolish.  You have darkness
behind those eyes.  That is why I don't have you and all your friends 
murdered outside their hardsuits."
	"A game is not interesting unless the players are challenging,"  She
said somewhat distantly.  "I want you crushed beneath my heel with begging 
in your eyes.  I want you to know that you are defeat before I kill you."  
Her voice was as cold and sharp as a razor eyes burning.
	"So the game continues both of us abiding by are own rules,"  Quincy
stated intensely.  She took out a pen.  She quickly scribbled on a napkin and
slid it over to him..  He nodded, and they both left.
***##***##***##***

	Quincy entered his office alone.  The size of a small auditorium and
spartanly  decorated..  Briskly, he walked over to his desk.  On it lay a 
simple rosewood chessboard, hand carved.  The pieces lay all over the board
clearly indicating a match yet to be finished.  He glanced at the napkin.
 Delicately, he moved the white knight into position.  
	"Check,"  He could imagine her say.  He chuckled sitting in his chair
.  It would most certainly be a long and interesting game.  Leaning
forward, he studied the board.  It most certainly would.


END