CIRCULARITY

Prologue:  Deviation From the Mean

The characters in this fanfiction series belong to various 
creators.  No offense is intended by their use.

David Johnston, rgorman@telusplanet.net

It had been one of the worst days of her life, but Sylia Stingray’s
carefully cultivated facade showed no sign of her inner distress
as she entered the parking garage of her apartment building.   
Her clothing was expensive, and elegantly alluring, her brown hair 
artfully tyled into seemingly casual disarray.  Her beautiful eyes, 
in no ay the windows into her soul, revealed only profound calm.
Still, lost in thought she was not fully on her guard and so was
taken by surprise when an unexpected voice came from behind her.
“I take it that Priscilla Asagiri has given you her resignation?”

A chill ran down Sylia’s spine.  Whoever the woman was, she knew 
enough to sign Sylia’s death warrant, and was in a perfect position
to serve it, if she felt so inclined.  With iron control, she kept from
starting and slowly put her hand into her handbag as she turned 
around to assess the threat.   It was a woman with long, dark green 
hair, so impractically long that Sylia had to wonder whether she’d 
ever seen combat.  Of course her appearance could be a boomer 
facade, particularly since she seemed to be unarmed.   If that were
the case, the powerful little handgun in Sylia’s hand would be be
of uncertain effectiveness.  Aloud, Sylia calmly inquired, “Excuse
me?  What are you talking about?”

She looked at Sylia’s handbag but didn’t seem unduly perturbed as
she answered, “Priscilla S. Asagiri.  A girl with some significant
impulse control problems that will lead to her death in three days.”
Sylia’s finger tightened a little on the trigger, as her enigmatic
target continued, “Unless of course, you take a rather specific 
course of action.”

“Who are you?”  Sylia asked.  The woman was confident, too 
confident.  *Perhaps I should gone for the panic button
instead,* Sylia mused.

“I’m someone who knows what you have to do, not just to save 
Asagiri’s life, but to ensure that you don’t lose your association
with her.”  The mystery woman smiled a little.  “Shall we discuss
it without benefit of weaponry?”

“I prefer to keep my options open.  What are you talking about?”

“Three counterfeit Knight Sabres have been damaging the reputation
of the genuine articles by committing murder and robbery.  They 
have issued an open challenge to the Knight Sabres to stop them at 
the Tinsel City Bank.  If the Sabres don’t appear, they will never
restore their reputation and will be forced to cease operations.  
Additionally, Leon McNichol will die, an event almost as severe in
it’s consequences.”

Sylia nodded calmly, “That’s not a totally implausible speculation,
I suppose.  But why are you telling me this?”

The mystery woman ignored the question and said, “If the Sabres 
do face their counterparts, Asagiri’s life will be placed in danger.  
There is only way for you to save it.

“I take it that now we come to your demand?”

She shook her head.  “This discussion is purely informational.  I 
demand nothing.  These are merely the consequences of your choices,
knowledge to be used in any way you see fit.”

“Then what is the alternative you offer?”

“Realising that the ersatz Sabres are likely to be at least comparable
to their present technology, and with the Sabres likely to be 
shorthanded, they will naturally seek to upgrade their technology.  
But, there is only enough time to complete one next generation 
hard suit before the crisis.”

“And so?”  Sylia wondered how this woman knew so much.  

“If you wish Priscilla Asagiri to live and to return to you, that 
hardsuit must be fitted to her, and must be placed in a delivery 
mechanism which can be quickly and independantly deployed.  
You must not tell her about the hard suit.  Plant a tracer on her 
before you leave for Tinsel City so that she may be located in 
time.   Don’t do it before then, since she might find it.  

“And I am supposed to take this on faith?”

Brown eyes dared Sylia, as the woman answered, “Consider it a 
calculated risk.  But if you don’t take it, Priscilla Asagiri will
die”

“What’s the source for your information, and the price?”

“My source is of course proprietary.  As for the price, all I ask in
return is a small favour.”

“How small?”

“One day you will meet a woman named Reika.  When you do,
I want you to refrain from offering her employment.  Just let
her return to her home.  Au revoir, Sylia Stingray.”  She stepped
back and to the side, behind a support pillar and out of sight.

Sylia considered for a moment, then looked behind the pillar.
No one there.  It was of course disturbing that any outsider knew
this much about her business.  But she did want Priss back.  
She would make the suit then.  Give Priss as much time as she
could afford, then go to her, try to convince her to take back her
resignation,  and plant a tracer on her.  This once, Sylia 
Stingray would play the puppet, because someone had found a string
to pull.  But if that turned out to be a mistake, she would find
a way to make the woman with green hair pay for it.  
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