Well, this has been kicking around in my head for a while, so I
finally put it onto phosphor and no leave it to you to judge if should
complete this, or be heckled to death.  Ideas for a title would be
appreciated.  (Heck, any response would be appreciated.)


                                        Untitled


* * indicates thoughts


     His daughter looked out at him from the screen.  Sylia wasn't his by
birth, for his wife couldn't have children, but he loved her as strongly as
if she had been his own, and not the child of a colleague who died in an
accident years ago.

     "When are your going to come home Daddy?  You haven't been here for a
week," she asked him, then added, "I can handle it, but Mackie misses you."
He smiled; for the last few months Sylia desperately tried to demonstrate
she was mature enough to have her bed time pushed back again.

     "We're right on the edge of break-through.  Once we make it, I'll be
back in two shakes of a lamb's tail," he said. *Assuming a new area of
research doesn't suddenly appear, like two days ago.*  "Now put your mother
on."  His wife's pale face replaced Sylia's tanned one, with light blue hair
instead of Sylia's blue-black.  The expression on that face was not pleased.
"It looks like I'm going to have to work here another night.  We've hit
another problem with the AI interface."  He sighed.

     "This weekend you're spending only with the family.  No engineering, no
work, just the us."

     "It's not like we're never together," he protested, idly twisting his
wedding ring.  A hair thin ling of blue spiraled around the gold band.  He
hurried on to forestall her response.  "I know, I know its not the same.
Alright, the day after tomorrow I'll spend an uninterrupted two days with
you.  And after that our schedule here should be a little more sedate."

     "Anything looks sedate compared to pace you're setting."

     "Yeah, well, it'll slow down, I promise."

     "As long as it doesn't take you as long as the last time you promised
to come back."

     Green light threw his shadow over the console, and a lab tech cheered.
"Doctor Mizuhara!  I think we've got it!"

     "Gotta go dear.  I love you."

     "I love you Makoto."  The screen blanked out. *Now if everything will
work according to schedule, I can keep that promise.*  He examined the
diagnostic's display.  The results certainly looked like he'd spend the two
days with his family. *Time to call that scuz of a boss and tell hi we've
cleared all the major design hurdles.*  He was certain they'd try to claim
the androids were property, but as long as he was head researcher, they'd
never get away with it. *Speaking of getting away, maybe I should accept
that headhunter's offer.  I don't like the direction our company's taking.
Especially in the form of this weasel over me.*

     The phone rang twice before the other side picked up.  "Hello, I'd like
to speak to Brian Mason."
        


     Bubble Gum Crisis is copyrighted by Artmic and Youmex, same with El
Hazard to Pioneer.  Their characters and worlds aren't mine, no matter how
much I'd like them to be, and I'll through in a lot more praise as long you
guys don't sue me.  Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and
plagiarism is the purest form of imitation.  Really.


                              ("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._      
      Bastet's Chosen          `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
   matthew.lewis@Yale.edu      (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                             _..`--'_..-_/  /--'_.' ,'
                           (il).-''  (li).'  ((!.-'


Beware of organizations that proclaim their devotion to the light without 
embracing, bowing to the dark; for when they idealize half the world they 
must devalue the rest.
                           -Miriam Simos