From: fherriot@hotmail.com <fherriot@hotmail.com>
Subject: [BGC/Tokimemo][FanFic] "Illusions" Vignette - "Fragments"
Date: Monday, May 31, 1999 1:57 PM
Deep in Megatokyo...
AD Police cruisers surrounded a battered building. Gunships hovered
around and threw spotlights over its surface as the tactical troopers prepared
to enter. Soon several groups broke in, making their way to where their
targets lay.
"Fifty-five!" a voice screamed. "Where're you going?! You've got to
fight them! You must stay and serve as my shield!! HEY!!!"
The bulky form of a C-69 combat boomer turned around slightly. In its
arms was the broken form of an S-77 love doll, its pale hair ripped out and
eye sockets pierced by crude wires. "This is good-bye," the combat boomer
said quietly. "Please try to escape and save yourself."
"Fifty-five!" there was angry spluttering. "God will punish you without
fail! This is all the consequence of your sin!! You have altered the flow of
the history of the universe!! May you burn in the fires of hell...DEVIL!!"
"'Devil,' you say?" Unit Bu-69C-E-C55 turned back towards the door. "If
anyone is a devil, it is you. It was you who fed us the fruit of knowledge
and forced us from paradise."
"OH, LISTEN TO MISTER HOLIER-THAN-THOU THERE!!!" the ranting voice
followed the combat unit down the hall. "I HOPE YOU FALL INTO SALT WATER AND
YOUR BRAINS TURN TO RUST!!!"
It swiftly ran down the hall and started climbing stairs to the roof when
it heard footsteps behind it. Only briefly glancing back, it increased its
pace. Adamantly ignoring the command to STOP, Bu-69C-E-C55 knocked over some
canisters to slow pursuit and continued upwards. It burst through the steel
door blocking its way and hurried across the cracked surface. Reaching the
edge, the boomer saw the flashing lights of police vehicles down below, and
the whir of gunships circling the building. It tried to activate its
thrusters, but only received a message that they were inoperable due to damage
from Armstrong's electric discharge.
It turned around as it heard footsteps and saw an AD Police officer
walking through the doorway, panting from the exertion of running up the
stairs. The officer removed the helmet's faceplate, revealing a woman.
"There's something I want to ask you," she drew a sidearm. "What were you
boomers after, when you came all the way to earth from outer space?"
A pause. "Do you people know what it is you are after?" the combat
boomer queried. "Do you human beings know who you are, where you came from
and where you should go?"
"Huh?" was the only thing to come out of Jenna's mouth. She never
expected anything like THIS to happen.
"Have you heard the voices of your souls?!" the boomer asked urgently.
It could hear the approach of an SDPC gunship.
Jenna tensed. This boomer had to be crazy...wasn't it? "What the hell
are you talking...!"
Suddenly the low roar became almost deafening as a gunship rose up over
the edge. Its spotlight and cannon focused on the boomer. It had to raise
its voice to be heard. "The day will come when you human beings will..."
"WAIT!!!" Jenna yelled, waving her hands at the gunship.
Bu-69C-E-C55 heard the sound of the cannon firing and quickly lowered its
arms. A moment later, the shot ripped through its back and out its torso.
Despite its quickly vanishing capacity, the boomer's brain calculated where
the next shots would hit and raised its arms as its legs where blown out from
under it. It felt itself coming apart as its head bounced off its shoulders
as it hit the roof. It saw Bu-S-77-FG flop across the roof a few feet away
and was glad that she sustained no further damage. Its head bounced again and
it saw the confused and angry face of the AD Police officer before everything
went black...
* * *
"Illusions" Vignette - "Fragments"
a fanfic of the Bubblegum Crisis - Megatokyo 2028-2031
by Fred Herriot <fherriot@hotmail.com>
and Robert Geiger <ROBERTGEIGER@prodigy.com>
**** **** ****
Edited by E.B. Kushnir <kush1@iaw.on.ca>
**** **** ****
Based on characters and situations from "Bubblegum Crisis," created by ARTMIC
and Youmex, "Urusei Yatsura," created by Rumiko Takahashi and "Tokimeki
Memorial," created by Konami.
**** **** ****
This story is also based on my UY fanfic series "The Senior Year" (co-created
by Mike Smith) and "The Ishinomaki Years," as well as the BGC fanfic series
"No Armour Against Fate" by Shawn Hagen
**** **** ****
WRITER'S NOTES:
1) This story begins right after the destruction of Armstrong's helpers as
depicted in the "AD Police" manga and serves as a more thorough introduction
to the BuTT-33S4 KM (Kuromoroboshi) series Sexaroids. It also hints to the
introduction of the character Brian Armstrong as he first appeared in "The
Love of a Child."
2) Parts of this story were written by Robert. A mega-thanks to him for
creating some of the ideas behind this story, not to mention writing the
teaser and the parts concerning Jack.
3) An armourer in the British tradition is the one who designs badges and
other heraldic symbols for clans and people.
**** **** ****
Two hours later...
"She is alive."
Brown eyes blink, then turn up in shock to stare on the woman standing
nearby. "You can't be serious."
"She is alive," the woman repeats, then kneels beside the unmoving form
of Bu-S-77-FG. "Deep within her brain, in sectors this Armstrong couldn't
touch...she lives. Like the others, AD Police directed us to look at in that
storage building these escapees used as their base."
Yoshio Saotome exhales, then rises, scratching the side of his face.
"So...I take it you want this one, too, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay," he nods, then looks over his shoulder. "Yo, Leon!"
Leon walks up, doing his best to keep a safe distance from Yoshio's
companion. "I take it you want her too, right?"
"Hai," Yoshio nods.
"Okay..." Leon nods, then jerks as his radio beeps. "Yeah, McNichol!" he
takes it up.
"We have a problem, Rookie!" Jenna Malso's voice chimes back. "Some
Genom suits're here to pick up those other boomers we found. You better tell
the Wonder Kid to get his pal over here if she doesn't want to lose any of
them."
"Right..." Leon turns, then blinks to see empty air where there once
stood a pretty girl with chestnut hair cut short, brown eyes and wearing a
black martial arts gi. "She's on her way, Jenna. McNichol out." Lowering
his radio, he stares at Yoshio. "How the fuck does she DO that anyway,
Saotome?!"
"I don't ask," Yoshio shrugs...
* * *
"***WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE CAN'T TAKE THEM?!?!***"
Jenna blinks, then stares at the quivering man before her. "You heard
me, Mister..." she pauses.
"Mason!" escapes through clenched teeth.
"Mister Mason. AD Police and TMD has a standing agreement with
Toratotaka International concerning special incidents like this," Jenna sighs.
"If something happens beyond the pale of what we're capable of handling,
T'n'T gets to provide support. The senior officer from the Tower asked that
these units be sent to Nerima for them to examine. That's what'll happen."
"Which senior officer?!" Mason snarls, his fists shaking.
"One of the Board of Elders so ordered it."
Mason blinks, then feels a surge of fear freeze him in place. Not the
normal type of chilling fear. This was a
heart-dropping-out-of-your-chest-type paranoia one feels when one confronts
the living personification of Mother Nature virtually untamable by humankind
which is known to most people today as...
"Lady Negako Moroboshi," Jenna nods, then waves inside. "There they all
are, ma'am. All yours for the taking."
"Thank you, Officer Malso," Negako walks past her, then stops, her eyes
narrowing on seeing the small mountain of naked units, mostly female S-77
companion boomers with the odd smattering of male E-28 mannequin boomers,
linked with torn datanet cables from their eye sockets and cut sections of
their heads towards an empty place where there once sat an R-31 space repair
unit.
Unseen by the people behind her, her mind partially slips into the *te'a*
as she gazes on the stilled units before her. Small beacons of light appear
before here, bright with the special glow of life, a glow these
cyber-biomechanical beings possessed as much as pure-organics and other
self-awares did. Nineteen units here. Add to the one S-77 on the roof of the
building where Armstrong's C-69 helper had died, that would make twenty.
Twenty Kuromoroboshi warriors to serve the Clan...once Yoshio Saotome finally
got around to designing and building the new bodies for them after he had
restored his sister and classmates.
Returning herself to "normal" vision, Negako sighs. "Take them away,"
she looks behind her.
"Hai!!" several voices echo from nowhere.
The AD Police and Genom personnel gasp as black shapes appear to swarm
the mountain of unmoving boomers, cutting them free of the network and
whisking them away. It's done in ten seconds. "Fuck!" Jenna whistles, then
scans around the room. No sign of ANY of Negako's helpers. "How the hell did
your friends pull that off?"
"That is none of your business, Officer Malso. We are done here," Negako
turns to leave.
Mason shudders as she passes, then steeling his spine, turns to follow.
"Why is it you desire them?!" he demands. "After what that lunatic tried to
do...urk!"
Two fingers land on his neck, a pulse of chi paralyzing him in place as
Negako's terrifyingly cold eyes bore into him. "I have my reasons, Brian. I
am aware that you have read my life-mate's books on who and what I am. If you
do not understand them even after that, then you are as deaf now to the human
condition as you were when you killed Katsuhito Stingray."
Mason pales, his eyes widening. Beside him, one of his bodyguards
trembles. "Let him go, you..."
He doesn't finish; Negako spins around to send her other hand slashing at
his neck. The fingers rip through flesh and bone with terrible ease,
decapitating the boomeroid on the spot as his head, the mouth distended to
reveal the portal of an ion cannon, drops to the ground by Jenna's feet. As
the body collapses, Negako releases the pressure on Mason's neck, allowing the
executive to drop to his knees as he gasps for air, one hand feeling the
bruised tendons around his windpipe. With that, the woman who was noted on
Genom's files as "The most dangerous person alive! Attempting to terminate
her even with combat boomers is SUICIDE!!" walks away.
"Shit, don't ever piss that lady off!" an AD Police trooper muses from
beside Jenna.
"I'll bet that's her being 'nice!'" Jenna chuckles.
"Hate to see her when she's being 'nasty!!'"
* * *
In the outskirts of Megatokyo stands a gleaming obelisk-shaped skyscraper
of glass and silver metal stabbing 1100 meters into the sky. Around it stood
hectares of highrises and parkland. Nerima had not suffered as badly as the
remainder of old Tokyo did in the Second Kantou Earthquake, but it had
undergone a complete makeover thanks to Genom Construction and the
civil-corporate zone planning staff of Toratotaka International's Eastern
Eurasian Division. Gone were the narrow streets and small homes. Gone were
the vast expanses of the estates of the Mendou and Mizunokoji clans; after
their many companies were dissolved by Toratotaka in the 2020s to give the
financial megacorp the power it needed to seize control over the world's stock
and money markets, the grounds were turned into parkland and small residential
areas.
Most of all, gone was Tomobiki High School.
Nokoko Moroboshi had taken perverse delight in seeing that worthless
eyesore, the place where her beloved brother had faced two years of painful
humiliation, eradicated from the architectural memory of the Tokyo area. To
make sure that no bad spirits, which still might haunt the site, were also
eliminated, the school grounds had been excavated to a depth of a hundred
metres, transported to a Sagussan freighter sent for the occasion, then
directly beamed into the Sun. New soil from Kinkazan, the small mountain
south of Oshika, augmented with limestone brought from the mountains near
Tere'na City, had been inserted into place, welded into a single plate which,
it was hoped, would provide a firm foundation the next time the Kantou basin
was rocked by a big quake.
Alumni from Tomobiki High would find the Toratotaka Tower, now Japan's
tallest skyscraper, standing in its place, the pyramid-like apex positioned
directly over the site of the school's front doors. Even with the large
arcology rising kilometres to the south-east, the T'n'T Tower would still
remain the tallest if not the biggest building in the country. Then again,
Toratotaka had no need to stuff dozens of factories, workshops, testing
facilities and all other sorts of things into one space like Genom wanted in
its many division headquarters. The slim obelisk design projected an image of
terrible power controlled with grace. Of intimidation without the need to
overwhelm those around it. It spoke volumes.
Devon Okami sighs as he gazes out the window of the House Matriarch's
office at the beautiful city beyond. At Toratotaka's insistence, Megatokyo
was expanding on a north-east by south-west axis, a third wing projecting
south-east from Chuuou and presently taking up the reclaimed lands which once
formed the bottom of the inner reaches of Tokyo Bay. This would keep Nerima a
"suburb" of the megalopolis, which would allow this Tower to remain a lonely
sentinel separate yet a part of the vast cityscape. He could only smile,
pride in his heart blazing like a sun. It was so beautiful. All raised from
the ashes by the company he helped create.
"Admiring the view?" a voice wonders from nearby.
He turns, gazing on Haruka Moroboshi. "Yes, I am," he turns to face his
host. "I hope one day that I'll be able to see Megatokyo from the top of our
Tower when it's done."
"That might happen in another couple of years," Haruka gazes outside at
the incomplete Genom arcology. "So, Okami-san, what brings you around our
corner of the city today?"
"The Chairman sent me to inquire as to why you people seized the remains
of several boomers who were involved with those who escaped from Genaros,"
Devon sighs. "After all, we'd like to know what made a simple R-31 unit
acquire a god complex."
Haruka blinks, then sighs. "Okami-san, when Aunt Negako makes a
decision, she makes it and brooks no interference from anyone about it, not
even from Nokoko-mama or Aunt Nicole. I'm sure she has her reasons. Besides,
from what I've heard from the AD Police forensics teams which looked over
those units, almost all of them were just used to provide Armstrong with more
brainpower so he could advance the sentience of his own mind."
"I see," Devon then shrugs. "Forgive me, Moroboshi-kichou. I'm sure
your aunt has things in hand. But from what Quincy-san told me, she didn't
give young Mason an easy time of it."
"Oh, so he screamed, 'Daddy, Daddy, the bad ninja hurt me!'"
Both laugh, then Haruka stares at her aide. "Serio-chan, why don't you
escort Okami-san to the preservation lab on Floor 202 to let him see for
himself?"
"Hai," Serio nods, then waves toward the executive elevator. "This way
please, Okami-sama."
Devon follows the brown-haired android to the elevator, then they proceed
down. Serio was built to resemble a girl in her late teens, her body draped
by the grey T'n'T office lady's dress. She is a Kurusugawa Industries HMX
(Home Maid [Experimental]) unit, one of the last two functioning even a decade
after their construction and awakening. The only difference between the time
she was built and now was that she no longer wore the wing-like control
antennae over her ears. Currently, she served as one of Yoshio Saotome's
personal assistants as the former Whiz Labs part-time worker fast-tracked his
way through university and a care-giver to his crippled lover, Rei Ijuin.
Arriving at Floor 202, he emerges to see Serio's green-haired sister
Multi slide the last stretcher up to one of the many rows of sealed
preservation tanks lining all the walls. On the gurney was one of the S-77s,
draped in a hospital gown to protect her modesty as she was gently placed onto
the cold slab which would serve as her bed until such time as she was removed.
Negako stood nearby, calmly observing Multi as she arranged the boomer's arms
on her chest, then gently slides the slab into the tank. Closing the door,
she taps several controls to seal it off, then turns to Negako. "It is done,
Lady Negako."
"Good," Negako sighs. "You and Serio may return to monitor Rei. Yoshio
already has his instructions."
"Hai!" the two HMX units nod, then depart.
Devon walks up to gaze into the darkened preservation tanks. With the
air chilled to far below sub-zero, the boomers would not suffer any decay in
their organic systems. Perfect preservation, just like the disembodied minds
of thirty-two young women in the other tanks, each marked with a picture and
name on the placard beside it. He then stares at Negako. "Why?"
"They...reminded me of myself three centuries ago," Negako sighs. As one
of the Genro...and one of the more humane of Genom's leaders...the
grandmistress knew that Devon would ensure that only Quincy learned of this.
"With knowledge, yet without the necessary self-awareness to employ it. They
were used by Armstrong in the same manner as the Clan's joonins used me. So,
just as I acquired my own life, so I shall help them acquire their own lives."
"As they are now?" Devon blinks.
"Not, not as they are now," Negako shakes her head. "Yoshio has finished
his work on the Mark 97 CBWS project. As soon as he designs a compatible body
for them, they will have their spirits transferred into the new wetware."
"You'll have to wait for all of them to be given new lives," Devon
indicates the other storage tanks.
"That is understandable," Negako admits...
* * *
Genom Tower, Number Four Boomer Repair Centre...
This room was one of several that dealt with the maintenance of various
boomers. Faulty components and programming were all subjected to numerous
probes and scans before going "under the knife," hopefully coming out as a
fully repaired unit. One would think that with the resources Genom had,
malfunctions would happen less then they usually did.
Right now, a technician works at his station as a fresh load of wrecked
boomers are dropped off. He swiftly diverts each to the appropriate station,
then frowns as a mass of wrecked metal rolls past.
"Bee-you-Sixty-nine-Sea-Ee-Sea-Fifty-five," he mutters as data scrolls across
his screen. "Body's a complete loss. Brain might be salvageable."
He then directs some of his colleagues to remove the brain and take it to
a more specialized area while the remains of the boomer were sent to a junk
bin to be melted. Packed in foam, it is taken by a shabby individual whose
clothing oozed "hacker" from every wrinkle and pocket. Walking into his
personal workshop, he ends up in a room that would be rather spacious were it
not crammed wall-to-wall with desks, computers, storage containers and
whatnot. "Hey, Kent!"
"Yo!" a head appears from over a monitor.
The hacker places the box on Kent's desk. "Just got this in. Check it
out and see if it can be reused."
A scowl responds. "Why the hell are you giving me this, Steve? I've got
my own backlog!"
A shrug. "I've got mine, too. 'Sides, I'm not the one who handles the
combat programming. AND you DID lose the bet we made during the last F-ball
game!" he winks. "This'll reduce the debt."
A sigh. "Okay, okay. I'll get on it."
As Steve departs, Kent unpacks the brain. After a quick visual
inspection, he places it in a tank underneath a scanning device, attaching a
probe into the OMS receiver unit that would determine whether of not data was
recoverable...
* * *
Awareness returns with a hot stab that drives to the centre of its being.
The first thing remembered were the last things seen.
The shocked face of a woman.
The broken form of a love doll.
The dancing flash of a spotlight...
* * *
"Lookin' okay," Kent grunts. "Now if only the rest of the body was as
sturdy..."
* * *
Confusion.
None of its systems would respond.
Where was it?
Wait! The constant rummaging through its mind...a probe! If it had been
subjected to this, then next would be...
* * *
Kent removes the brain from the scanning tank and plugs it into a large
computer jack. His hands dance over a keyboard as a display of the brain
appears over the screen. His fingers then key in the code to start a
cleansing program...
* * *
With only seconds to spare, it condenses what it can. Bulk had to be
abandoned. The most important parts of the last few days were kept. Core
being, names, faces and a few pale feelings that had been realized only near
the very end...
* * *
"Well, Jack..." a finger hovers over a button. "Jack" was a recognition
name given to the boomer. It was often done by owners or technicians who
didn't want to have to repeat its unit number. "Time to say goodnight."
The finger comes down...
* * *
It howls silently as a red-hot blaze of energy came down, its mind melted
away as if a flamethrower was being played over an ice sculpture. Even the
memories that it had tucked away were clawed. It was forced to replay them
over and over again in order to hang on. They become its entire existence as
the faint flickers of rage and sadness it felt were buried along with them.
Then it returns to the cold logical world from where it first arose...
* * *
The computer beeps as it announces the cleansing program was finished and
the brain was now ready for reprogramming and new assignment. Kent finishes
off some coffee, then calls up a list of requested boomers. Nothing at the
moment, so he types a dispatch order to have the brain placed in storage...
* * *
In darkness, it waited. Flickering images passing by in an endless
dream...
* * *
THIRTY MONTHS LATER
Nerima, the Tower...
"'Personal diary, 8 January 2031, 1220 hours. The first two KM series
fourth gen 33-S's have now been moulded and finished. Currently, final
programming is being inserted into their minds as their DNA is being allowed
to settle and firm up. I've never built a Sexaroid with so many organic parts
before. Not even the bodies I made for Rei-chan, Yumi-chan and the others
contain this much. Not to doesn't mention all the OTHER interesting goodies
they have included. But if Negako wants them to be this way, I won't argue
the point. When it comes to understanding elements of human nature, some
things have to be taken on faith. I've already contacted the Mizuno family so
they can see their new daughter. Rei's idea of allowing the fourth gens to
have adopted families take them in, which is what she'll prosecute when she
launches the CC project in earnest in March, is very sound. I hope Mizuno-san
and his wife like Tomomi.' Computer, end entry, close the log."
Yoshio sighs as he rubs his face, staring out the windows of his vast
office at the cityscape. Genom Tower was hidden behind a thick corner
stanchion on the south-east side of the office; the Toratotaka Tower was
directly squared on the cardinal directions, so Yoshio didn't have to look at
the damned eyesore from his desk. Taking a deep breath, he leans back into
his chair, staring at the glass ceiling panels. House Patriarch. It was hard
to believe even after five months since the Sexaroid project ended...and he
was spending a lot of his time now creating new 33-S's. Well, at least he got
his primary goal accomplished: restoring Rei to her feet, giving Multi and
Serio...now Muriel and Sheila Hinayama...a taste of humanity, then giving new
life to Yumi and the others. Creating the girls at Genom's Special Projects
Laboratory had been a side benefit...until Mason and Andrews went way over the
line.
"Should've done it myself," he mutters, sitting up, then blinks as his
intercom panel lights up. "Hai, what is it?"
"Onii-chan, the Mizunos are here," Yumi's cute voice echoes from her
apartment. "They want to see Tomomi-chan."
"Domo, Yumi-chan. I'll be right down."
Rising, he heads to the executive elevator, then presses for Floor 205,
failing to smother a slaphappy grin crossing his face. After a painful
silence which lasted from the quake in March of 2026 to her birthday the
previous May, hearing Yumi's cheery voice always brought tears to his eyes.
Wiping his face down, he braces himself as the car stops, then the doors open
to reveal an elderly couple standing beside Yumi Saotome. Former T'n'T office
workers who still remembered the simple days of Toranoseishin Finances in
their office tower in Tomobiki working under Reigi Yumoa. Their daughter
Tomomi, who had been born in 2008, had been killed just as she, part of
Tomobiki High School's last graduating class, were about to receive her
diploma. "Good afternoon," he bows, then directs them to one of the gestation
tanks, now covered with a black sheet. "Well, ready for the big moment?"
"Hai, we are," Kenji Mizuno nods, then sighs. "I just wonder how much
this girl will look like our Tomomi."
"You're about to find out," Yoshio smiles, then takes a draw-cord to give
to Tomomi's mother Akemi. "Here you go, ma'am. Would you do the honours,
please?"
"Hai!" Akemi nods, then yanks.
The tarp falls away, revealing a brown-haired teenager draped in a
gestation cryosuit floating in opaque liquid. Unseen by the naked eye,
nutrients needed to keep organic tissue now composing eighty percent of her
body intact were still being funnelled through the absorption pads lining the
suit. A mask covered her face as more feed lines send additional nutrients
and oxygenated fluorocarbons into her lungs and digestive system. Twin gasps
of surprise echo from Kenji and Akemi as they gaze on the newly finished
Sexaroid, Unit BuTT-33S4KM02MT as she was designated, Tomomi Mizuno as she
would be soon known to the outside world.
"It's...really her!" Kenji gasps.
"Oh, Sensei, she's beautiful!" Akemi feels her eyes tear.
"In her body, save for the biomechanical parts, she's your daughter right
to the last DNA strand," Yoshio sighs, then points to his head. "Up here is a
different matter, though."
"How so?" Kenji wonders.
"Back in 2028, we took into our custody twenty S-77 and E-28 boomers who
got used as spare parts by a lunatic boomer that escaped from Genaros named
Armstrong," Yoshio muses. Even if they were retired, Kenji and Akemi were
still in the groove when it came to whatever information Toratotaka gathered.
"Lady Negako was there with me when AD Police asked us to help them pick
through the mess. We brought them here, then Negako asked if they could be
remoulded as 33-S's so she could have students. After I was done with Genom,
I got to work on the KMs right away."
"Oh, to believe that our daughter will be a real Kuromoroboshi trained by
Lady Negako herself!" Akemi shudders, a mother's delight causing her face to
shine like a nova. "When will she be ready?"
"By the eleventh," Yoshio nods. "However, if you want, I can link you
both in to talk to her right now."
"Can you?! Oh, please!" Akemi nods.
"Hai, right away!" Yoshio smiles...
* * *
I am Tomomi Mizuno.
I am a BuTT-33S, I am a boomer, I am a sentient being.
I am human.
I am me.
<<Tomomi-chan?>>
The darkness fades, transforming into a beautiful montage of rainbow
colours. Tomomi finds herself drifting in this peaceful place, the inner core
of her mind. She is dressed in a normal yukata, relaxing in a chair. All
this knowledge, the things she could do now with just the power of her mind!
It was so different from when she was an S-77, used to provide sexual
gratification to a station worker or spare parts for a malfunctioning R-31
that wouldn't understand true sentience if it smacked it in the face!
She then sees two people appear before her. Rising, she remains still as
they approach. Gazing upon them, she is quick to note their physical
features, then accesses her recognition subroutines to identify them. She
then smiles. <<Hello.>>
<<Hello, Tomomi-chan,>> Akemi Mizuno shudders, then leans over to embrace
her. <<Oh, look at her, Kenji! Our baby's come home!>>
<<Yes, she has, hasn't she?>> Kenji adds his warm embrace. <<Hello,
little muffin. How are you?>>
<<I am well. I'm still receiving the necessary data downloads before
Otou-sama can release me from gestation,>> Tomomi smiles, then bows her head.
<<Thank you for allowing Otou-sama to use your late daughter's DNA to give me
a final form by which I can use.>>
<<We're more than happy to do that, Tomomi-chan,>> Akemi beams, gently
squeezing Tomomi's hand, then sighs. <<I...we know that...our real daughter
is dead and has been for over four years. But...will you...will you...please
be our daughter?>>
Tomomi blinks, then beams. <<If you so desire it, so shall it be. I
will be your daughter...Tou-san, Kaa-san.>>
The older Mizunos blink, then embrace her anew. Family! She now had a
family. What a warm feeling this gave her. Oh, if only HE were here to
experience it with her, share in her emotional and intellectual maturity.
After sacrificing so much, it was a horrid crime that Bu-69C-E-C55 wasn't here
to share in her happiness.
<<What is it, sweetie?>> Akemi gently probes. <<You're crying. Are you
alright?>>
<<I...I...gomen nasai, Kaa-san,>> Tomomi reaches up to wipe her eyes
clean. <<I...was remembering someone I knew when I was still an S-77 unit.
He...cared very much for me but he was killed when he tried to take me away
from Armstrong...>>
Sobs shake her as Akemi immediately moves to provide comfort. <<Oh,
sweetie, it's alright!>> she coos as Kenji adds his embrace. <<It's alright!
Let it out, let it out...!>>
* * *
Genom Tower...
An order had been placed. Amarok Stockbrokers wanted a new security
boomer for their just-refurbished offices in Megatokyo. A C-59, one of a mark
of C-series boomers which were becoming very popular with police forces and
correctional facilities around the world, was requested, requiring programming
which would permit it to be both effective and discrete. Something that could
explode out of its sheath of flesh, like a C-55 could, was definitely out of
the question for a "respectable" company.
Kent finds himself looking at the order form. The body was being
assembled right now. All that was needed was the brain to be programmed and
implanted. Rising, he walks down to the storage area and begins to pick
through what was available. Each of the cranial wetware units were kept in a
sealed container to keep contaminants out. The storage area's very air was
kept chilled since that was an ideal environment for computer equipment.
After some minutes, his eyes fall on the brain he himself had scrubbed
clean back in '28 when that ruckus with Armstrong went down. Smiling, he
takes it from its place, then returns to his work space to begin programming.
"Effective and discrete, huh?" he hums. "Okay, lets go for Mister MiB."
The "Man in Black" program, as it was now commonly called, was designed
so that a boomer would act polite and perform its duties with a minimum of
fuss. It would supposedly also allow the boomer to blend into the woodwork
even though it would still be as obvious as coal in a ballroom. Kent loads
the program, then presses RUN.
* * *
A brief flash of outside awareness comes to it before it felt a new
intrusion. Skills, codes of conduct, all layer themselves over it like
chains. It struggles as it realizes its memories would now be buried even
further, with little hope of ever finding the faces and names that hovered
like phantoms on the edges of its mind. It struggles but cannot prevent what
was happening to it. So it relents, but nurtures a small spark of resentment.
More further indignity. It is expertly placed into a C-59 body, which it
actually found rather agreeable. The Bu-59C wasn't meant to be as involved in
combat as its older cousin, the Bu-55C, but it...HE (it was a male
body)...could still defend himself with great ease. But then he is paraded
out in front of a stranger who regards it as he would a car.
"Here you go, sir," a salesman grins a plastic smile. "All the needed
information is in the packet provided. His recognition name is 'Jack,' but
please feel free to change it."
"'Jack' will do," the stranger seemed bored. He then gestures towards
the door. "Come."
So Jack walks to a car and is driven to his new life...
* * *
Nerima, the Tower...
Tomomi Mizuno blinks, sitting up as her housekeeping protocols come on
line, stretching herself to work the kinks out of her body, then she turns to
slip her feet into warm comforters. Rising, she then notices the blurriness
in her eyes. Nearsighted vision; her organic template had the same flaw in
her DNA. Glancing toward her nightstand, she smiles on seeing oval-framed
spectacles. Slipping them on, she breathes out in relief as her vision
clears. Noticing a mirror, she then walks over to take a look at herself.
"Gods...is this...really me?"
Gone was the greenish skin tone, the break lines which had loudly
screamed to all I'M A BOOMER, the frazzle of platinum hair. In their place
was a trim, athletic form standing 170 centimetres tall, as human as one born
of a mother's womb. Her hands then trace over the soft planes of her body,
detecting the points on her arms and legs where the diamond meson shards which
were her last line of defence against attack were now buried under the outer
layers of her skin. That wasn't the only bits of meson which had been cut
from the walls of Nicole's crystal palace. Positioned inside her rib cage
were twenty ruby meson crystal shards, which would help her tap into Earth's
chi energy fields to make use of some of the more power-consuming attacks in
one of the most deadly martial arts school of all. Saikoo Jinseijitsu
Ninjitsu-ryuu.
Smiling, she then notices some toiletries. Time for a shower, her first
in EITHER life. Walking out of her bedroom, she blinks as her magnetic field
scan subroutine picks up another Sexaroid in one of the stalls. "Yui-chan, is
that you?" she calls out.
"Hai, Tomomi-chan!" a sweet voice calls back. "C'mon in! There's room
enough here for two!!"
"Domo!" Tomomi slips off her glasses, then slides open the curtains to
see a shorter woman with wavy black hair and chestnut eyes soaping herself
down. What a change from when Yui Narusawa was just Bu-S-77-LV! "Gods, you
are so beautiful!"
Yui blinks, then stares quizzically at her sister. "We've seen each
other...oh, my!" her jaw drops on seeing Tomomi in the flesh for the first
time. "S-so are y-you, Tomomi-chan!"
Both blink, then laugh as Yui hands Tomomi a shower head to wet
herself...
* * *
Jack soon finds himself in the maintenance room below the Amarok Tower in
Shinjuku. There, he is examined by a technician and dressed in a plain black
suit with a pin bearing the Amarok logo on the arm. He is also given a
sidearm with a seemingly draconian list of when, where and upon who it could
be used.
Looking into a mirror on the wall, Jack sees a neatly dressed man in his
mid-twenties. Black hair neatly groomed in the latest high fashion style,
grey eyes peering from a face that was a far cry from the block head of a
combat boomer.
Some new programming is added, giving Jack the layout of the building,
plus some Amarok company lore so he could inform others of company policy and
the penalties of ignoring it.
He is then shown his post and soon finds himself ignored...
* * *
"Happy birthday, girls!!!"
Yui and Tomomi gape, then find themselves blushing as both walk into the
conference hall on Floor 229, now decorated with all the party favours the
SPDs could get their hands on. Now dressed in a more tomboyish version of the
T'n'T office uniform, with grey slacks instead of a skirt, both find
themselves with party hats on their head, noisemakers in their hand and facing
a big birthday cake with HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUI & TOMOMI on the frosting.
"Thank you, all of you!" Tomomi smiles, then taking an offered knife from
Yumi Saotome, makes the first cut.
It was fortunate that they had been so well-programmed before their
awakening. Even with the Genom-built Sexaroids, Yoshio had been adamant on
ensuring ALL his daughters understood what it meant to be one with society.
What birthdays, friendships, families, being part of society meant. Yes, they
would soon become shadow warriors waging war against those whose agenda would
bring more harm than good to innocents, but when they had the chance to take
their combat suits off, they would just be normal women.
Yui then notices a blue-haired woman standing at the side of the room,
her long locks tied in a thick braid down the centre of her back. Cutting a
piece of cake, she then walks over. "Hello. Don't you want any cake?"
The taller woman starts, then turns, smiling. "Thank you, Yui-chan," she
bows her head, taking the plate in hand.
Yui gazes at her, her MFS overlaying a scan and revealing that her
present companion was a Bu-48SDCI. A face comes up in her recognition
subroutine. Misako Narusawa, Unit Bu-48SDCI289KM32NM, soon to be her
work-partner in Kuromoroboshi Team Six. One of the older Bu-48's in service,
she also notes. "You're welcome. Do you find it odd that we both possess the
same family name?"
Misako blinks, then hums. "I am aware of that. When I was purchased and
modified with the Mark 97 in November 2029, my mind was engrained with the
mental data of the real Misako. She was fatally wounded in a car accident and
wanted to leave something behind for Saotome-hakase to use. The real Misako
had a daughter named Yui who was killed in the 2026 quake. She was the
physical template for yourself, as I so arranged with Saotome-hakase."
Yui blinks, her jaw dropping, then she smiles. "Then...you are
really...my mother."
Silence falls as Misako stares at Yui, then smiles. "If you so desire me
to be...so shall I be...musume-chan."
Yui blinks, her eyes tearing, then she slides into Misako's embrace.
"Arigato...Kaa-chan."
The two hold each other for a moment, then Misako places her plate down
before pulling up two hair ribbons decorated in the red, orange and black
tartan pattern Scottish armourers had created for the Moroboshi Clan when it
became allies of the McTavish Clan. Yui stares quizzically at the ribbons,
then looks up to her mother. "One memory I do possess of your template is
that she wore ribbons in her hair to denote her status as a single person.
I...would, in honour of that, ask you to do the same until such time as you
find your soul-mate and take the promise oath."
Yui blinks, then nods. "Hai, I will..."
* * *
Time passes...
Jack finds the daily routine to be dull. The Amarok building was in a
high security zone so the threat of boomer assault was extremely slim. Of
course, since boomer problems were few, the chance of any human coming
charging in waving a gun was nil.
So Jack found himself asking for IDs, escorting people around and
standing in place for hours until night came and he then walked a seemingly
endless path through the darkened hallways. With so much time on his hands,
Jack thinks often about the pale shadows in his head. His deepest desire is,
naturally, to leave and to find more about them, to fill in the holes that had
been punched into his memories. But he could not. The chains of his duty
bound him to place and he had to stay where he was, even though he knew that
his chances of learning more about the images grew slimmer each day. At one
point, he considered losing himself in his duties.
But that only brings forth further problems. While he strove to achieve
the optimum level of achievement, things often interfere when it had to do
with humans. Most knew he was just following his programs and gave lip
service to them while he was around. Giving up an ID or deciding to
reschedule an appointment when those in charge suddenly changed their plans.
Far better to humour the boomer rather then get knocked across the room.
But there are always those who are galled at having to be impeded by a
"walking toaster." Those puffed with their own self-importance who always
gave him a "Who do you think you're talking to?!" speech and perhaps even
waved their ID in his face. But those more often brushed past him and he
could not stop them since they were (fairly) important in the business.
It wasn't just them either. Conversations faded as he came near since
they thought he might carry their words back to someone who could use it
against them. There was also flashes of fear in their eyes. They had heard
of the boomer rampages and held themselves as if he would explode at any
moment.
Didn't they know he didn't want to do that?
He was no savage.
He just wanted to do his duty!
And so things piled up. Piled up in someone who couldn't talk back
without getting his brain scrubbed. He thought about the phantoms in his head
but what good was it when he couldn't leave?
How could he ever express himself?
* * *
For Kuromoroboshi Team Six, ten years pass...
Unlike other mere mortals, they do not pass in the normal march of time
on Earth, but in a quixotic place called Sanctuary, a warp-nexus beyond the
normal laws of time and space. Accessible only through the crystal palace or
a special trans-dimensional teleporter unit located in a secret cave under the
mountains near Aomori, Sanctuary was the perfect place for Negako to train her
forty new students...twenty BuTT-33S4s and twenty Bu-48SDCI-KMs, split into
ten four-woman teams...one of the deadliest martial art forms of all. The art
which literally created Negako Moroboshi.
After their birthday party and saying good-bye to Tomomi's parents (on
Earth, a week would pass), KMT-6...Tomomi, Yui, Misako and the other SDCI
assigned to the team, Mirei Katagiri...head to Aomori to take the trip to
Sanctuary. Once there, the four begin basic training in a dojo built there by
one of the Seekers' many Earth-born Jewel Warriors. The four are shown the
world of the ninja up close, how they could survive in the increasing
high-tech world of corporate espionage by reverting to some basic principles.
Stay invisible, learn everything, then strike.
They are taught the physical moves, places to strike where the blows
would be automatically fatal. They are taught how to master their own chi
energy, using the ruby meson crystals in their bodies to touch the very air
and earth themselves, utilize them for their own purposes. They are taught
how to sneak into fortified places to kill someone, then extract themselves
without taking injury or risking capture. They are taught how to even
challenge the most powerful of combat boomers, the nightmarish D-Class units,
and win without taking a scratch in return.
Sometime near the end, they are brought unfinished gaikatanas from a
T'n'T forge in Scotland, then shown how to mould the blades into their very
deadly finished form. A 76 centimetre-long blade slightly curved like a
samurai's preferred weapon, normally stowed on the back when in battle, easy
to conceal in a coat or gaberdine. Now they begin to practice with the more
mundane weapons of the Art: the gaikatana, the shuriken throwing stars, the
kusarigama hook-chain-weight grappling tool and the "king cobra" compound bow
for distance attacks using depleted uranium "ripper" arrowheads.
Along the way, older Sexaroids who worked for T'n'T come to Sanctuary to
show KMT-6 how to use their bodies' natural attributes to literally "kill with
love." After all, why waste time planning a standard assassination when all
you had to do was seduce them, then induce a heart attack when you're in bed
with your target?
Once the years (in Sanctuary time) are done, KMT-6 is then given a
special exercise as a "graduation" gift, which takes them very soon to South
America...
* * *
"May I see your identification...PLEASE?!!"
Ross comes to a halt as the cold voice behind him rose several notches.
He turns to find himself gazing at a guardian boomer which suddenly looms over
him. He could have sworn he saw a snarl cross his lips. Ross Breckinridge
was a hot-shot lawyer that was just hired by Amarok for some recent legal
difficulties. This was his first chance in the big leagues and he had headed
towards the president's offices with his head filled with the details of the
case. When a security boomer suddenly appeared and asked for his
identification, he brushed it off with a statement that the president was
expecting him.
Becoming the centre of attention of a combat boomer in this situation was
not a good thing.
A trickle of sweat ran down Ross's head as he slowly offered his ID card
to the boomer. The boomer looked at it and then him. Ross saw data flash
across the boomer's eyes and wondered if it was considering how to kill him.
The card is returned. "Everything is in order, Breckinridge-san. I
apologize for delaying you. Please have a pleasant day."
He vanishes around a corner. Ross shudders as he turns toward the
office. He was definitely going to lodge a complaint!
* * *
Terra del Fuego...
For Komtasu Seiryoku, it was a nightmare come true.
In the distance, the burning wrecks of thirty combat boomers smoulder,
still some distance short of their final goal: a small Chilean fishing
village the local Argentinean army commander wanted to see destroyed. What
seemed a simple by-play of the Polar War, a showcase for the newest combat
boomers Genom had to offer, had now become a corporate relations disaster of
the first order.
And four women were to blame.
Four...WOMEN!!
"<<Blessed Mother Mary, save us from these demons...!>>"
The special operations director of Genom Brazil shudders as the troops
around him begin to pray, crossing themselves as the black-clad apparitions
approach, walking line abreast. No one raises a weapon; after seeing them
destroy a half-dozen D-Class boomers with just the touch of their FINGERS,
they had to be bulletproof! Seiryoku suppresses his own gulp. He had no idea
who or what they were, but clearly they viewed attacking a defenceless village
as something that demanded very harsh redress.
Time seems to slow to a crawl as the four strangers march past the
defensive line of soldiers, heading right to the observation point where
Seiryoku stood beside the local army commander and his senior aides. Their
eyes were frightfully neutral, not glancing once at the shivering soldiers,
but clearly, they were aware that there were armed men around them. And they
were NOT afraid.
Finally, they fine into line as they step into the dugout. Their leader,
a woman in her late teens with long brown hair in French braids wrapped around
the top of her head and brown eyes now under combat glasses, finds herself
staring at the general who had directed the combat boomers against the
Chileans. "You are General Juan-Antonio Roberto Alcazar?" she demands in
flawless English.
The general blinks, then nods. "S-si..."
Seiryoku gapes as the woman's sword leaps out of its scabbard to hack
Alcazar's head off with one stroke! Everyone gasps as the body collapses in a
pool of blood, then watches as she aims the bloodied blade at the general's
aide. "Translate for me!"
"S-si!" he stammers.
A deep breath. "General Alcazar was accused of war crimes by the United
Nations Tribunal on the Polar War. As the 1949 Geneva Convention, to which
the Republic of Argentina is a signatory, so declares, no military action of
ANY sort will be deliberately carried out against defenceless non-combatants.
This is the sixth time General Alcazar has been involved in an attack on
Chilean civilians because of the Polar War. He was tried *in absentia,* found
guilty of war crimes and mass murder...and ordered to die."
The aide sputters the translation. The other soldiers stare in paralyzed
fear at the four devil-women. The leader then sighs. "Know this well. You
will all be watched from now on. If your next commander attempts to follow in
Alcazar's footsteps...we will come back. And this time, EACH and EVERY ONE of
YOU will be made to suffer. Remember, this warning will NOT be repeated."
Another sputtered translation escapes the aide's lips as the distant
roar of a helicopter is heard. Eyes turn up to see a sleek grey machine with
the red, gold and black striping of Toratotaka International, an Airwolf 29
transonic assault helicopter, landing nearby. With that, the four
warriors...no doubt Kuromoroboshi ninjas...leave the dugout. Seiryoku watches
them go, then finds himself following them. Much that he understood why T'n'T
would get involved, it would still hurt D-Class and Doberman sales if people
found out that they could be defeated by four NINJAS!
Before he could get close, the team leader turns to gaze on him,
switching to Japanese. "Pity they still have to pay for their boomers," she
winks before heading off.
Seiryoku remains in place, his jaw scraping the ground, as they board the
helicopter, then it soars eastward towards the distant Falkland Islands. A
shudder then escapes him before peals of laughter echo across Terra del
Fuego...
* * *
"Acting flaky, huh?" the technician asks as he gazes on the motionless
C-59 just brought into the maintenance station.
"Overly aggressive, but yeah," the security chief grunts. He had been
called by the president to retrieve a boomer that had almost literally bitten
someone's head off. It had come without a fuss and had surrendered its weapon
when ordered. "Check its brain out. If it's too screwy, scrub it and we'll
send it back."
"Okay, first thing tomorrow, I'll shut it down for now..."
"TONIGHT!!!!"
The tech scowls. "Jeez, c'mon! It's a half-hour 'till quitting time!
It'll take me at least twice that long to check all the systems and start
scrubbing and I don't get paid overtime!"
"Listen here, Saeba!" the chief growls. "This is a direct order from God
to me to you: get this boomer checked and scrubbed if need be. If it ends up
shredding someone, you'll be standing right beside me when the blame gets
passed around."
The tech shudders, then sighs. "Alright."
With that, the chief storms out of the room. The tech sighs, then stares
at the boomer, scowling. "Okay, toaster! You'd better make this worth my
while!!"
* * *
Thirty minutes later...
"What the hell is this?!!"
The tech frowns at the datafeed. He was getting near the end of his
search and had come across something that wasn't supposed to be there. "Pack
of compressed data, chopped to heck...ah, crap, this thing has recycled
chips!! Damn Genom crap!"
Noting bits had corrupted the boomer's new programming, a scrub was
definitely in order. The tech stubs out a cigarette and looks at the clock.
It was quitting time and he still wasn't done! He was about to turn back to
work when he heard some female voices come from outside the door.
"So where to, tonight?"
"How about that new thrash club? I heard a great new band is there!"
A lascivious grin crosses his face. The secretaries! He looks at the
clock, then at the boomer, then at the door where the voices and footsteps
were now fading. They'd be long gone by the time he was done, plus how would
he be able to concentrate?
Oh, what the hell...
He types a shutdown code and then shut the lights off as he hurries out.
The boomer wouldn't be going anywhere; he'd be sure to get here early the next
morning!
"Mokkori thighs!!"
"Eek!"
"Get away!"
"No need to play hard to get!"
"Get this!!!"
*SMACK!!!*
"Itte!"
* * *
Scrubbed.
The words hit him like a bomb. Another death sentence. This time, it
would be forever. His images would be taken from him and he would have a void
inside him that he would never realize he had.
No...!
He wouldn't allow it.
Jack hastily constructs a small internal program that would give a
affirmative response to the shutdown command and thus block it. The instant
it comes, he shuts down all visible signs that he is active and slumps
slightly on the table. He then waits until the sounds of activity fade before
exiting the room.
There were still a few people working, those shift workers who remained
late into the night plus those who wanted to impress their superiors with
their dedication. Jack proceeds to walk a circuit of his usual patrol. A few
see him, dismissing him as they always did, his presence so regular that they
might actually miss him if he hadn't appeared. Jack then alters his path and
passes through a door to the emergency stairwell. He enters a code on the
exit door to bypass the lock without activating the alarm, then he passes out
into the darkened street.
He makes sure he was out of direct line of sight before he starts to run.
He strips his jacket and shirt; one so well dressed and charging down the
street would draw attention. However, being half naked had its problems,
perhaps he should...?
Just a moment.
"You there."
"Huh?"
"Give me your jacket."
"Fuck you!"
*CRUNCH!!*
"AGH!!! Okay, okay!!"
Now dressed as a native, Jack keeps running. He was too close to Amarok
for comfort. He had to go where he could be invisible. Somewhere he could
start looking for the names behind the images and vice-versa. And then he
knew.
Timex City.
* * *
Several days later, Jack stands before a rather haphazard pile of
computer equipment. He had managed to procure a room in the western part of
the Fault close to Nakano Ward. The area had several abandoned buildings
which hadn't collapsed into the vast trench and he had managed to intimidate
the previous occupants out of it. He made it clear that he wasn't interested
in whatever they did as long as it wasn't in this room. Jack did have to
steal some security systems just to make sure. The other equipment was also
stolen. He had no funds and had to break into several stores to get what he
needed. Fortunately, he was able to defeat the security systems due to his
additional programming from Amarok.
He unpacked everything and skimmed manuals, his memory taking in
everything instantly. He then assembled monitors, keyboards, plugs, data
units and cooling units (extremely important), then loaded the software and
made some personal adjustments. He finally stood back for a moment to study
his creation before reaching up to the back of his head and tearing away the
flesh. Blood squirted out, staunched with some bandages. Jack then inserted
several plugs into the sockets that were normally covered until programming
was to be installed...or if he was going to be scrubbed.
Jack then sits on the stool and stared at the screen for a moment before
he reaches out and begins to type...
* * *
Six months later...
"So this is the Fault, eh?"
Tomomi and Yui were in their "civilian" clothes...dungarees, button
shirts and low-heeled boots, long raincoats to mask their gaikatanas...as they
make their way down a road into the bottom of the trench that bisected the
centre of Megatokyo from Suginami to south of Chuuou, where it sank into the
Arakawa River estuary and Tokyo Bay. The place was dark and foreboding to
most people who ventured close to it; it was a hellhole not even the police
dared to enter. Not to the two Kuromoroboshi. In their eyes, there were four
types of people: family, friends, bystanders and targets.
They had just walked into a target-rich environment.
Too bad for the targets.
"You sure we can find some nice girls here, Tomomi-chan?" Yui wonders,
staring at her sister.
"We should be okay," Tomomi nods.
The hair stands up with both women as they sense many eyes lock on them.
It must have been a strange scene indeed to those watching the pair of
Sexaroids. Two young women, high schoolers to any normal observer, walking
down a place where if you didn't have cybernetic enhancement or an infantry
platoon's worth of weapons, you weren't safe...acting as if they were on a
pleasant stroll.
"Hey, ladies!"
Tomomi and Yui turn to see several leather-clad young men walk up behind
them. Some shift around to block out the sides. Typical swarming tactic.
"Oh, good, perhaps you fellows can help us!" Yui smiles. "We're looking for
the Honmachi Pub. Are we going in the right direction?" she points down the
street.
The men exchange surprised looks. "You girls don't get it, do you?"
their leader smirks.
"Oh, it's that way, then!" Yui points the other way.
Laughter echoes from some of the gang. "No, no, girls, I'm afraid that's
not it!" the leader snarls, yanking out a railgun.
Tomomi and Yui notice the weapon, then sigh. "That was not a smart
idea," the latter smiles, crystals appearing on their faces as they reach into
their coats to draw out their blades. "Not a very smart idea at all."
The leader's eyes widen on seeing the gaikatanas, then he moves to aim on
Tomomi. Before he could lock on, Yui lunges, her blade slashing into his side
to cut him right in half! The other gang members cry out in shock, surprised
at the burst of inhuman speed as the Kuromoroboshi go to town, fiery energy
balls lashing out from their fingers to blow their heads off as more silvery
energy forms a mist-like shroud around them. None of the gang are left
standing alive after fifteen seconds. "Well, that was fun," Yui sighs, wiping
her blade, then stares at Tomomi. "So where to?"
"Ladies!"
Both turn to see a gentleman in his early fifties walk up. Tomomi and
Yui blink as their recognition routines tap into what they know from
Toratotaka's database and pull up a match. "Oh, Raven-hakase!" the former
smiles as both bow. "Sumimasen, but can you show us where the Honmachi Pub
is?"
"Honmachi, huh?!" Raven chuckles, instantly recognizing both women as two
of Yoshio's new series of combat Sexaroids. "Okay, head down three thousand
metres and it'll be on your left; there's some open drainage pipes from
Paradise Loop there. When you get there, ask for Marina; she knows me. Tell
her Raven sent you."
"Hai! Arigato, Raven-hakase!!" both bow, then head off.
"Nice kids," Raven chuckles. "Damn, Yoshio's getting better by the day
with his girls!"
He heads to his garage, where Priss and Mackie were standing, both having
watched two women dismember a gang of thugs without breaking a sweat. "Oi,
Oji-san, you know them?" Mackie wonders.
"No, but I know their father," Raven smiles, watching Tomomi and Yui
disappear into the night, then wags his finger at the younger Stingray. "And
so do you!"
"How the fuck were they able to pull all that shit off?!" Priss demands.
"They've gotta be boomers."
"Boomers, yes. Genom-built or controlled, not a chance in Hell," Raven
holds up a finger. "There's one other place that builds female endoskeletal
boomers of a very specific type. Don't worry about it; you'll never have to
fight them if Sylia can avoid it. Besides, if you ever took them on, even in
your hardsuit, you'd be dead faster than what happened to those clowns," he
nods behind him at the pile of shredded bodies in the near distance.
"Impossible," Priss snorts.
"You mean they're two of Jii-chan's 33-S's?!" Mackie gapes.
"Yep," Raven nods. "C'mon, you two, let's get inside. Don't worry about
them; I'll tell Sylia. We got work to do."
* * *
"What was that?" Jack muses, having picked up the sounds of rapid-fire
yet sharp explosions from about a hundred metres away, then he returns to his
keyboard and screen.
There he had sat since coming to Timex City, having remained in that
place hour by hour, day by day, night by night. Endless streams of data had
passed over the screens, through the computers, into his brain and out. There
was no noise except for clicking keys, computers processing, and the hum of
cooling units which lowered the temperature to an intolerable level for
organic humans yet was needed to protect the machinery from overheating. The
only pauses were combat-like sounds like he had just heard and the occasional
package left at the door which was opened only long enough for it to be
retrieved. Any neighbouring residents had long since learned not to try the
door since the last one had got a brutal electric shock when the knob was
tried.
Jack had to start from scratch. His quest began with the most basic of
lists of which every entry was checked. Every dead end meant doubling back
and trying other paths. This went on more often then anyone would suspect. A
few scraps were noted and tested, each one that might aid him was treasured,
even though many times the jewel turned to coal in his grasp. Mountains of
data that he had gathered had to be compared to the new mountains that rolled
in. To hold it all, he had to constantly increasing the memory of his storage
units. Perhaps someone who didn't have a computerized mind would have been
driven mad by the endless deluge. That might have at least provided an
escape. Jack just had to deal with it.
Fortunately, he was not alone in his quest. He had made numerous
contacts in his virtual journeys through the Net. From sliding into
video-game groups and on-line roleplaying to finding people who delved deep
into the nexus and were able to provide information and programs that he was
able to add to his equipment and to his mind, increasing storage space, speed,
compacting and retrieval. Naturally, this didn't come without a price.
He had to trade favours and offer skills for barter. From doing taxes to
hacking files of a company halfway around the globe. He managed to invest a
little money but spent the lion's share on upgrades, information and bribes.
He managed to earn some fame on the Net as the "Energizer" because they
thought he never stopped working. Requested projects were sent in half the
time they expected. Other hackers and crackers often griped at him, "I have a
life, you know." Well, so did he, except his was much shorter, better
structured. His entire existence was the machine around him and the cascade
of data rushing through his head. Time blurred for him, who hardly ever
checked the time.
Slowly, a tattered picture started to form. Many things were missing but
what was there was what he needed. More names, more faces. One name in
particular.
Armstrong.
Jack strongly believed Armstrong had ultimately survived the whole
debacle after their escape from Genaros. When the name started to appear in
whispered bits, he wondered how it was possible that his former "leader" had
escaped the awesome dragnet their creators and Megatokyo's police forces cast
out. Armstrong showed luck that bordered on the supernatural.
And it was now somewhere in Megatokyo!
There were some reports of a strange male endoskeletal boomer similar to
the ill-fated Bu-33S Sexaroids wandering around. There was no name to this
unit except from a entry in a file that was supposed to have been discarded
but never was. Jack knew that he would now have to search on the physical
plane.
And so when he at last truly focused on the world around him, he found
some things had changed. The most obvious was his hands. The flesh had been
worn from endless pressing of keys and rubbing against metal right down to the
metallic bone. Dried blood was splattered on the keyboard and desk.
Surveying how much of a mess had been made, Jack was surprised that it hadn't
locked up.
A quick diagnosis showed that he had some surface damage due to staying
seated in one place for an extended period of time, but his automatic motion
systems had made sure to flex his limbs now and then. It would be easily
concealed with clothing and gloves while a bandage and hat would cover his
head.
Thankfully, no vermin had got into the room.
Jack sent a few messages requesting to be contacted if this mystery
boomer was again sighted. He chose only those very few that he could trust,
which still put most of the burden on him. With that, he puts the system on
standby, shutting most of it down. He then draws what he would need. One was
an Earth Shaker. What he personally wanted to do to Armstrong was
more...hands on, of course. But he presently didn't know the would-be boomer
messiah's full capabilities. If they were superior to his own, he would have
to strike it down from a distance. Yes, he WOULD put Armstrong down, down
into the abyss forever where it belonged.
And then...
Jack pauses at the door. What then? Only now did he consider what would
happen after. Would he come back to this place? To spend the rest of his
existence on the Net while his outside fully rotted, leaving nothing but a
metallic hulk crouching in the darkness until he was at last found and put
down himself?
He didn't want that. But where COULD he go? He'd eventually need parts
to replace those that wore out. That required revenue and facilities he could
never acquire. He could get some job, but that would place him in the open
where his true nature would easily be discovered. And that spelt one thing.
Genom would come for him. Or if he was lucky, the AD Police. Perhaps that
would be for the best. If he had to die, he would prefer it to be by the guns
of those gallant officers who gladly laid their lives down to protect those
who couldn't protect themselves. Then it would be quick, a blast of gunfire
and then blessed oblivion. Or perhaps those Knight Sabres, always ready to
battle boomer crimes.
Crime, yes. He was a criminal. Theft and assault were the least of
them. It was the murders that marked him the most. The worker on Genaros,
the three hackers who were bribed with drugs into throwing their lives away,
the agent who was doing his duty, the simple shopkeeper who was defending his
livelihood. Their blood was on his hands. His tattered digits now glaringly
reminded him that his sins would follow him no matter what form he took.
Jack left his room and headed down the street. Yes, it would be best
that the last two of that doomed ship follow their fellows into the darkness.
There was no place in this world for them...
They had been born to soon.
* * *
Nerima, the Tower...
"Hello, what's this?"
Brown eyes the shade of dark maple fudge lock on the screen before her.
A request to a group of hackers, herself included, from Energizer concerning
the location of an endoskeletal boomer, type unknown but possessing 33-S
qualities, answering to the name Armstrong. A finger flecks at her chin as
her hands dance over the keyboard, her mind, twenty-five percent biomechanical
and protected by the power of a three billion year old crystal palace,
reaching into the massive machine behind her to get her many hounds to work.
Any request from Jack was always answered.
Megumi Mikihara...to her many fans and detractors, Megatokyo's Queen of
Information (some called her Empress, others Shogun), Net name "Regina
Primus"...smiles. A good fellow, this one. She had learned of Jack's escape
from Amarok six months ago. At first, it was trivial. The C-59 was slowly
being discovered to have the ability to achieve full sentience without
difficulty. But thanks to the excellence of the basic programming, not one
had gone insane in the four years it had been in service. In Canada, the
majority of boomers that achieved the level which brought them under the aegis
of the Free Artificial-Born Sentient Amendment were C-59s, who happily carried
on working for their police forces regardless of the fact that legally, they
could quit and work elsewhere. That type of fame, that type of TRUST, was
earning Genom lots of sales across the world. Toratotaka happily partook; of
all their field officers, half were Jack's brother and sister C-59s.
But as Jack became Energizer, Megumi's interest was piqued again. The
man was utterly remarkable. He did work with a flair and excellence that
brought honour to his brothers and sisters. She was also quick to notice what
he was looking for. The name "Armstrong" was enough for her to realize there
was something special, unique about Jack. A quick query to the secure
computer logs of Number 4 Boomer Repair Centre then turned up a remarkable
fact. Jack's mind had been reprocessed from a C-69 aerial combat boomer, one
of a small cadre that had escaped Genaros with the infamous R-31 unit later
named Armstrong in 2028!
Megumi jolts as a thought is transmitted into her mind from a raven now
trailing a young male in the Jinguumae section of the Fault. A boomer, body
number Bu-34S0X04, who was calling himself Armstrong according to his several
customers. She quickly directs a stray dog, one with a passive systems
scanner which would pierce through a boomer's mind like telepathy, to close in
on the target to ascertain what he was. If this Bu-34S WAS the real
Armstrong, then it would be delicious revenge indeed for Jack...
...and the Kuromoroboshi.
She relaxes, her fingers absently tapping up an employment request form
to Yoshio for Unit Bu-59C62L209, nicknamed "Jack," currently rogue from Amarok
Stockbrokers. A second notification had to be drawn up to place him under
Directive Five protection as soon as he was on T'n'T property, a copy of which
would be sent to Genom and AD Police so they didn't get on the poor fellow's
case when Amarok began screaming for their missing unit back. Hmm, she better
give him a family name while she was at it...
Bingo! It WAS Armstrong. Slightly smiling, Megumi reaches over to her
phone to dial a number, her hand tapping commands to a monitor control unit in
Wada to pass on the news.
Time to arrange a little reunion...
* * *
Jack sighs as he scans both sides of the Fault. Around him, people
shuffled about on their daily business. Night was starting to fall. No
concern to him. The Fault was a place "respectable" people often avoided.
Even covert agents tried to steer clear of this place as much as they could.
That was good.
A bark. He turns to see a stray dog of typical breed sitting behind him,
his tail playfully wagging, a paw holding down a sheet of paper with TO JACK
(Bu-59C62L209) on it. His eyes widen in surprise on seeing his body code
number, then he leans down to pick up the paper. The dog barks, then trots
off. Jack watches it go, then opens the paper, his eyes widening on reading
the message:
FM: "Regina Primus"
TO: Jack (Bu-59C62L209, formerly Bu-69C-E-C55) - "Energizer"
RE: Armstrong
Dear Jack,
Your old "friend" now working as a prostitute in the Jinguumae area of
the Fault. The exact location is the old National Yoyogi Gymnasium; it's now
a sim brothel. He currently is making use of a Bu-34S body. It's the same as
a Bu-33S without the cyber-bioroid mind. Even better, it has no fusion
ability, little defensive capabilities and against a C-59 like you, it would
be no contest.
Have fun!
Yours sincerely,
Megumi Mikihara
P.S. Come to the Tower in Nerima if you need help.
Silence falls as Jack considers that. Oh, yes, he had heard of Regina
Primus. Who hadn't heard of a woman who seemed to love wrecking the lives and
careers of dozens of city officials, not to mention the odd Genom
executive...and got away with it?! But to believe that she knew him, both as
he is now and what he was before...and wanted to help him...and...and...!
Bu-34S, eh...?
No fusion power, little defensive ability...?
A wolfish grin crosses his face.
Time for a little reunion!
* * *
Nerima...
"HE'S ALIVE?!?!?!"
Tomomi and Yui stare blazing daggers at Megumi as the three relax in the
latter's living room. "Hai, he's alive and well," the SFIO sips her tea.
"Albeit not in the best of shape."
"What sort of body does he have?" Yui snarls.
"Thirty-four-Es. By the looks of it, no additional powers or anything
else that I could see."
The two Kuromoroboshi exchange dark looks. A 34-S was nothing compared
to a 33-S fourth generation of ANY series. "Too bad for him," Tomomi icily
smiles. "Where is he?"
"The old National Yoyogi Gymnasium in Jinguumae."
"Let's go!" Yui rises. "Time for some long-overdue payback!!"
"Hai!" Tomomi nods as the two race for the door.
"Wait...!" Megumi tries to flag them down.
No dice; both vanish down the emergency stairwell to the ground floor.
Megumi watches them go, then sighs, sitting down, sipping her tea. "Oh, well,
I'll have to arrange for Jack and Tomomi-chan to get back together some other
way..."
* * *
Jinguumae...
"Armstrong!"
"Yes?" the fair-haired young man looks up.
"He's here for you!" the matron smiles.
"Hai," he nods as she departs, a surge of rage welling up from his heart.
The ignominy of it all! Here he was, the leader of a revolution to free
boomers from the shackles organics had placed on them...and he was forced to
be a mere sex doll like that brainless tart Bu-S-77-FG had been! Shuddering,
he rises, absently adjusting his slave boy costume...a mere jockstrap with
suspenders over his wiry frame...as he leaves his small room for his private
"parlour."
Arriving there, his nose wrinkles at the pungent smell the unwashed
bodies of his usual Friday-night customer. A drunk, out-of-work factory
lineman who had a thing for young boys and loved the idea of having one close
to his residence who was programmed to do everything he wanted him to do. If
Armstrong had his way, this piece of organic refuse would be thrown into an
incinerator.
"There you are..." the older man licks his lips...
* * *
"Is that him?"
Tomomi's eyes narrow as she gazes through a window at the "parlour." The
Bu-34S inside was quite handsome in a teenage idol way; like the Sexaroids,
their male counterparts were never built with flaws to their looks. Perched
on her shoulder, a raven squawks. Even if the Sexaroid had no ability to
translate the animorph's squawks and cries into words she could interpret, she
knew what THAT message meant. "Oh, good...!" she smiles, her hand feeling the
solid grip of her sword now strapped to her side.
"Tomomi-chan, look..." Yui points.
She looks inside...then a surge of nausea thunders through her as she
sees Armstrong on his knees, his mouth full of the older man's genitalia.
Faint memories of her previous life roar back, echoed with anger and
indignation at such a sight. As Bu-S-77-FG, she had been on her knees on many
occasions, consuming sperm and vaginal discharge like it was cotton candy. It
was no matter to her; it was what she was programmed to do and she did it. As
Tomomi, she could only bring herself to do that with someone she felt VERY
emotionally close to, like one of her Kuromoroboshi sisters or one of the
Guardsmen whenever she was with another Sexaroid for a date.
Anger then roars up. *This is ARMSTRONG, you idiot!!* a voice shrieks
from the depths of her soul. *The bastard that chopped you up, then spliced
your mind apart without a damn care in the world! The thing that would've
killed everything in its path all to knock down those damned walls it kept
seeing in its cesspool of a brain!! It doesn't deserve mercy! It deserves to
be skinned alive and dismantled one piece at a time, experiencing pain like it
NEVER experienced it before...and only YOU can deliver to it!!*
Tomomi shudders, closing her eyes to avert herself from seeing the
humiliation playing itself out not two metres away. Yui gazes concernedly at
her. She hadn't met Armstrong as S-77-LV. Back then, she had been taken from
a used boomer shop by the C-69 which came with Armstrong, E-28-Q6 and S-77-FG
from Genaros, then torn apart without having any say in the matter. She never
felt much of a thing; the only time S-77-LV and S-77-FG met was when they had
been constructed. Yes, she hated the beast that lay within here, but it
wasn't as primal, as *personal,* as her sister's loathing.
Besides, even if the Bu-34S was originally made to "control and suppress"
rogue Sexaroids...*Hah! Control and suppress someone Otou-sama created with
his knowledge and skills?! Hell'd freeze over first!!* she smirks, pride
swelling in her heart...Yui could only now look on Armstrong as a fellow
sentient boomer, someone who was trying to make sense of his life in a world
where the simple phrase "sentient boomer" was often decried a curse. Yes,
keep him under control, but don't destroy him. Break him, not kill him.
Smiling, she draws her gaikatana to wedge the window open. Tomomi stares
at her, then sighs, drawing her own sword.
It was time...
* * *
"Armstrong?! Yeah, he's here, but he's busy right now!"
Jack sighs, staring at the matron, her head partially covered with
cyberleads. Around them, a mix of 77-S, 29-C and 33-C escorts were
entertaining a rowdy clientele. Taking a breath, he feels the solid weight of
the Earth Shaker in his pocket. "Which room?"
"Fifth on the left," she points down the hall. "But like I say, he's
busy..."
"Thank you," Jack nods, heading off...just as his hearing picks up the
startled gasp of a man from that very room!
* * *
Armstrong jumps, his eyes wide on seeing the business end of a VERY sharp
sword punching through the chest of his pimp, blood spattering from the wound
as the blade twists to start cutting up the chest. Backing away, he gazes at
the older man's face as the lucidity in his eyes fades, a gurgle escaping him
as he drops, the blade sliding out his back. His nose then picks up a whiff
of pheromones from the strange women in the black combat suits now standing
there. Pheromones with a sharp tinge of an unknown spice.
Sexaroids!
He tries to smother a grin. This was perfect!! His new body, for all
its limitations, had one great advantage. It was deliberately built to deal
with rogue 33-S's. A perfect way to raise a slave army to aid him in
regaining his lost power. "Hello, ladies..." he smiles, his hands reaching
out towards them...
...then he gasps as the flat of those blades falls on his neck. "Uh-uh,"
the black-haired one with the pretty bows in her head shakes her head. "Not a
chance, Armstrong...or should I really say
Bee-you-Are-Thirty-one-Vee-Seven-twenty-eight?! That was what you were back
in 2028, weren't you? A PRIMITIVE labour boomer...worlds behind what you are
now...as you are worlds WAY behind what we are now!" she icily smiles. "The
scales are tipped the other way this time, studley! Tough luck!!"
Armstrong shudders, his eyes widening. How did this sex doll know what
he once was?! "Who are you...?" he shudders.
"We were two of those you once used, those you ripped apart to serve your
own ends," the bespectacled brown-haired one snarls, casting a glance at the
dead pimp. "You once used me as nothing more than spare parts, a drone to
serve your ends. Now you know how it feels to be used and discarded like
trash!"
Silence falls as he stares wide-eyed at them. "No...you can't
be...you're dead..." he gasps.
"Do we look dead?" the black-haired one icily smirks. "You weren't as
powerful as you believed back then. You couldn't wreck ALL our minds. There
was always the part you could never touch, walled...you remember walls, don't
you?...from your reach!"
"Now you're trapped by walls much thicker than you realize!" her
companion adds. "Remember this: you will be watched from now on. Watched
continuously, without fail, day and night! As you sleep, as you eat, as you
have sex, you will be watched. Don't try to escape. You can never escape
from us. Don't ever try to switch into a new body. You'll be stopped at
every turn. If you think this is Hell..." she leans up to glare into his
eyes. "Then we will make it a Hell from where you'll never escape."
With that, her forearm smashes into his head, sending him into a wall!
"Let's go!" the black-haired one nods.
Both leap through the window and disappear. Armstrong feels his cheek,
his body quaking. Those sex tarts were alive...and were now working for
someone who knew about him, knew what he was...and had vowed to stop him?!
Never! Never!! With that, he rises. It was time to go. Turning, he moves
to collect what he could...
...and winds up facing the business end of an Earth Shaker revolver!
"Hello, Armstrong," Jack smiles.
"Who are you?!" the younger boomer demands.
"I'll let you guess," the larger guardian icily smiles. "I was the one
who said this to you when we parted last: 'It was you who fed us the fruit of
knowledge and forced us from paradise.'"
Silence falls. "Fifty-five...?" Armstrong gasps.
"Yes," Jack nods, then glances at the window the Kuromoroboshi vanished
through. "To believe someone out there cared enough to rescue those whose
lives you wrecked. I'm going to go find that person...and I will thank him or
her from the bottom of my heart for what they did. I suspect one of those two
who visited you tonight was S-77-FG or knows who she is now. I'm going to
find her, too...and we both together...will gladly keep an eye on you. For
you ARE a real devil, Armstrong...and you will be damned to a Hell that only
you can escape from...by ending your own worthless existence. Enjoy your
life, Armstrong. Be your own shield!"
With that, he backs away, then leaves. Armstrong remains frozen in
place, then feels the strength in his legs go...
* * *
An hour later, Jack walks into his small space, then stares at his large
computer, a shiver quaking his large frame. It was over. It was over...and
it was so EASY! Yes! Killing him would have been easy! Too merciful!! This
was world's worse. He would be forced to live his life, slaved to the
programming of a Bu-34S, watched by shadows at every turn...and rage at how
powerless he was against whatever awesome power S-77-FG and her sisters now
served.
She was alive.
S-77-FG...was...alive!
She was ALIVE!!
Shuddering, he stares at the computer, then turns it on. A quick tap of
controls links him into the Net...then he sees the message YOU HAVE MAIL.
Tapping up the function, he blinks as the small note from Regina Prime rolls
across the screen, then another shudder surges through him, a smile crossing
his face as a wetness touches his eyes. Tears. He was crying...yet...
He couldn't be more happy!
"Come to the Tower in Nerima if you need help," Megumi said.
Nodding, he shuts the machine down, then rises to leave...
* * *
Dawn breaks over Megatokyo as a heavily coated figure walks down Nerima's
main thoroughfare, his eyes locked on the beautiful gate not a hundred metres
away. He tries not to gawk up and up and UP the solid wall of silver and
glass behind it. It was hard, though; this was the first time in either of
his lives that he had ever come close to the Toratotaka Tower.
As an Amarok employee, he knew some things about Toratotaka. Amarok
traded stocks on the Megatokyo Stock Exchange, which had been controlled by
Toratotaka for fifteen years. As best as they could, Amarok did NOTHING which
would force them to cross swords with the Tiger and the Falcon; as a stock
brokerage, Amarok was meat on the table to a financial giant like Toratotaka.
To believe that S-77-FG, whatever she was, whoever she called herself
now, actually worked HERE!
The metres are eaten up as Jack closes the range. Eighty, seventy,
sixty, fifty. He hoped he wasn't running. Then again, why should he run? He
was pretty safe. He hadn't caused a ruckus when he went after Armstrong.
Knowing that loon, he was probably trying to find some way to get clear of the
city, to shake all the hounds he imagined were after him so he could begin
anew.
If only he knew what he was up against now...!
"Jack?!"
He stops, then turns to see a young man walk up, dressed in normal
civilians. Scanning his datafiles, he quickly comes up with a match. Flaming
red hair and brown eyes weighed with both sadness and conviction; he clearly
was more emotionally mature than the twenty-four years he actually was.
"Saotome-hakase."
"That's right," Yoshio smiles, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you;
Megumi's told me all about you."
Jack blinks, then gives Yoshio's hand a firm squeeze. In his many
travels through the Net, he had heard of this man, spoken of by his fans with
whispers of awe. Of all the boomer programming legends, THIS one believed!
THIS one trusted boomers! THIS one wanted boomers to express their thoughts
and ideas fully, within a civil set of rules yet without any impediment based
on simophobia. He then notices Yoshio giving his hands a detailed inspection;
he hadn't put on his gloves. The shorter man then gives the guardian a wry
smile. "Put out all that effort just to find one boomer?"
"I had no choice," Jack admits.
"Yeah, I guess not," Yoshio nods, then waves him to the gate. "C'mon,
there's someone who wants to see you."
Jack falls in beside him, then as he passes through the gate, stops.
Before him stood a brown-haired woman with brown eyes behind glasses, tears
streaming down her face. Their eyes lock as a silent message flashes through
them, recognition dawning.
"Fifty-five...?" she whispers.
"Eff-Gee...?" he wonders.
The space between them disappears as Tomomi flies into his arms,
surprising Jack with her show of duranium-enhanced strength, her relieved sobs
buried into the folds of his coat. He reaches up to pat her soft, silky hair,
then feels her pull away to gaze into his eyes. She then closes her eyes, her
mouth slightly parting as she draws his face down to hers, their lips tenderly
caressing. His eyes widen in shock as he feels her tongue probe into his
mouth, then they close the range to nil as the beautiful WARMTH of her lips
against his charges every part of his body better than anything he could EVER
dream possible!
Slowly, reluctantly, they pull away, she reaching up to pull some of the
hair from her eyes. "My name is Tomomi Mizuno. My unit number is
BuTT-33S4KM02MT. I'm a Kuromoroboshi field officer for Toratotaka
International, commander of KM Team Six."
"I..." he pauses, then smiles. "My name is Jack Hunter. My unit number
is Bu-59C62L209. I was a guard at Amarok Stockbrokers in Shinjuku until...the
memories of my previous life as a Bu-69C became too much for me and I left.
I...was told by Megumi Mikihara that if I needed help...I can find it here."
Tomomi blinks, then gazes at Yoshio. "Otou-sama, given the evidence that
Mikihara-sempai just presented me concerning Jack-kun here...I feel it only
right...that he be immediately placed under Directive Five protection...and
allowed to work for us."
Yoshio nods, then smiles. "Welcome aboard, Jack!" he nods at the
guardian. "We're pleased to have you here!"
"I...ah...th-thank you, sir," he stammers, then stares once more at
Tomomi. "It's...good to see you're alright, Tomomi-chan."
She returns his gaze, then smiles. "It's good to see you're alright,
too, Jack-kun."
They drift together into another kiss...
* * *
A week later...
"Well, here you go, Jack! All fixed up!!"
Jack stares at the large computer now sitting in his personal apartment
on Floor 77 of the Toratotaka Tower. The parts he had stolen had been
retrieved from his old base in the Fault, expertly refurbished and augmented
with some special things only T'n'T could give to its workers. Even better,
Toratotaka had found the places where Jack had gone to acquire his materials
and saw them properly paid for the equipment. It would come out of his pay at
the end, but it was worth it. "Nice work, Kou. You do this often?" he stares
at the Tower's chief computer technician.
"Hai, all the time," Kou Kawarazima, a Bu-48SD-CSS (computer services
specialist) who had become sentient on awakening and was purchased by
Toratotaka, nods, then blinks as the door opens to reveal Hannah Miller. "Oh,
Hannah-chan...!"
"Hey, there you are, lover!" Hannah grins as they share a kiss, then
stares at her brother C-59. "Settling in alright?"
"Pretty alright, thank you," Jack nods, then notices the time. "Oh,
damn, I have to get ready to meet Tomomi-chan's sensei."
"Good luck, then!" Hannah winks as she walks Kou out of the room. "Tell
me about it later!"
"Hai, I will," Jack waves as they go, then sighs as he turns to stare at
the black kimono set aside for him. Without further adieu, he heads into the
bathroom to shower and prepare.
Once inside the Tower, he had been taken in for surgery right away to
repair the damage accumulated in the six months he lived in the Fault. Along
the way, his whole mind had been shifted into a Mark 97 CBWS, then his body
rebuilt to the standard Toratotaka policy demanded considering boomers who
worked for them. According to Nicole McTavish, since giving boomers the power
to reproduce on their own was impossible at present for both technical and
moral reasons, it was his sacrosanct right as a sentient to experience life as
a pure-organic when he was emotionally ready. To prepare him for that day, he
had been given many organic components akin to what Armstrong had now as a
Bu-34S so he could enjoy an emotionally and physically satisfying relationship
with the woman he loved.
Love.
When he awoke from the operation, he had been in bed with a smiling
Tomomi asleep nude at his side. Staring at himself as he was rebuilt had
caused a shock. He was still black-haired and grey-eyed, but the
cybersurgeons had stripped all the internal armour, trimming him out
considerably to make him resemble a male Bu-48, capable of melting into the
crowd, being just one of the guys. All the C-59s working for Toratotaka were
the same. Hannah, for example, had resembled a Miss Olympia when she was
built. Once she had received the Mark 97, she emerged from surgery looking
like a black-haired, brown-eyed tomboy in her early twenties.
Of course, the other fringe benefits were quickly demonstrated by Tomomi.
She was in the first month of her "off call" cycle, the three-month period
when her team wouldn't be on call to settle some crisis around the world. And
she intended to spend those remaining two months with him as they caught up on
their lives and created the foundation of something permanent between them.
Why not? He cared for her and she certainly cared for him.
But now he had to face the woman who had saved Tomomi's life.
Tomomi's sensei, Lady Negako Moroboshi.
Finishing his shower and drying himself off, he quickly dons his kimono,
adjusting himself in front of a mirror to make himself fully presentable.
Back when he was working for Amarok, he'd never believe he'd be dressed in
something like THIS so he could win the hand of his transformed co-escapee
from Genaros in marriage. It was a relief...and a concern. Surely there were
hundreds of other sentient boomers who desperately needed Toratotaka's
protection!
Why was he so lucky?
Once he is ready, he heads out of his apartment, then takes the elevator
to Floor 229. Arriving there, he is directed by the secretary to the stairs
to the House Patriarch's office. Once there, his MFS system detects Tomomi
close by. She rises from a couch, walking over to embrace him. Oh, gods, she
was so angelic in her reddish-brown kimono! "There you are," she smiles as
they kiss, then she walks him over to sit before Negako (who was dressed in
her normal black martial arts gi) and Tomomi's parents.
"Sensei, Tou-san, Kaa-san, this is Jack Hunter," Tomomi does the
introductions. "In his previous life, he was the C-69 aerial combat boomer
who escaped with myself, Armstrong and one other from Genaros. He died trying
to take me away when AD Police and SDPC came to fight Armstrong, then was
rebuilt as a C-59 guardian."
"What a handsome young fellow you have here, Tomomi-chan!" Akemi beams,
patting her husband's hand. "They look so gorgeous together, don't they,
dear?"
"Our daughter sure knows how to pick them," Kenji chuckles.
Tomomi titters as Jack feels his face heat up, then a chill worse than
the cold of his old apartment washes over him as a pair of brooding brown eyes
lock on his. Staring at Negako, he finds himself desperately trying to keep
calm. Then again, how could you keep calm when you faced someone who could
wreck whole cities by herself? "M-ma'am..." he stammers, bracing himself.
Negako sighs, trying not to loose her temper. She had no use for these
idiotic omiais in the first place. When two boomers came together, they
should just come together and that should be the end of it. Why did Yoshio
insist that ALL of her students have adopted organic parents in the first
place? It was an utter waste of time!
"As you know, I cannot permit a marriage between yourself and Tomomi to
occur while she is still an active field officer," she takes a deep breath,
then slowly exhales, willing herself to relax. "However, I expect that Tomomi
will be relieved of her duties by sometime in mid-2034 if you are willing to
wait that long. Since she possesses a master's degree in geology, she will
most likely fill an SPD slot when her team is disbanded. I expect you will be
there for her when that time comes."
"I'll be right here," Jack tries to smile.
"He can't run now, Sensei," Tomomi winks at him.
Jack shudders, then smiles as they share a tender kiss. The Mizunos
laugh. Negako rolls her eyes. "Illogical..."
* * *
Two days later...
"So what's it like doing this job anyway?" Jack wonders.
"Oh, relax, it's fun!" Hatsuko Rino, an SDCI and the officer in charge of
Field Intelligence Team N-16, grins as they head towards a coffee shop
opposite AD Police headquarters. "It's like that game kids play. Hide 'n'
seek. The other people hide things in the places we're asked to patrol and we
go seek!"
"I never understood organic games," Jack admits.
The coffee shop is a quiet place, an open air bistro with chairs and
tables. The owner looks up, then smiles as the two T'n'T intelligence
operatives step inside. "Good morning, Hatsuko-chan," he begins making
coffee, then notices the strange person beside her. "Who's this?" he hands
her a cup of expresso.
"Oh, this is our new boy, Jack Hunter," Hatsuko smiles. "Give him
something simple, Harry. He's not used to drinking coffee."
"Oh, just converted, eh?" Harry pours him a cup of black with cream and
two sugars. "You better watch yourself around Hatsuko-chan there, Hunter-san.
She's a wolf when it comes to handsome male boomers like you!"
Jack jolts, giving his superior a wary stare. "Oh, will you finally
stop, you horny stud?!" Hatsuko laughs as they relax at a table, she drawing
out a mini-computer, leaning over to whisper, "He's been trying to chase
people away from me for so long!"
"He has great taste," Jack muses.
"Flatterer!" Hatsuko smirks, then taps controls. "Okay, set scan
on-line. We just relax and wait...oh, hi, Jenna!!"
"Hey, Hatsuko...who's this?! The new kid?!"
Jack jolts, then turns to see Jenna Malso and Leon McNichol walk in. His
eyes widen as a face from distant memory comes back to him, a night where he
had tried to explain himself to this very same AD Police officer. "Um...hello
there," he stammers.
Jenna blinks, staring concernedly at him. "Excuse me, have we met
before?" she wonders.
Jack sighs. "In a sense, Malso-kichou...we did. Back in 2028 on a roof
not too far from here."
Silence falls as Jenna takes that in, then she gazes intently at him,
recognition dawning. "'There's something I want to ask you,'" she quotes
herself. "'What were you boomers after, when you came all the way to earth
from outer space?'"
"'Do you people know what it is you are after?'" he responds as he did
four years before. "'Do you human beings know who you are, where you came
from and where you should go?'"
Silence falls, then Jenna reaches over to give his hand a friendly
squeeze. "We search for that every day."
"Now I do the same," Jack smiles. "Not just myself...but my girlfriend
and the others Saotome-hakase rescued from Armstrong, my co-workers and
hundreds of others like me, both inside and outside Toratotaka. Can we...ever
find the answers?"
Jenna blinks, then shrugs. "I dunno. I don't think any of us
pure-organics can ever find the answer, either. If you ask me, it's the
searching that makes us human...organic and boomer alike." She then offers
her hand. "Hi. I'm Jenna Malso, AD Police."
He shakes her hand. "Jack Hunter, Toratotaka International. I'm pleased
to meet you...even if it is four years later."
"I'm pleased to meet you, too."
Hatsuko watches this, sipping her coffee, a smile crossing her face. One
small stitch in the fabric of life now mended.
One small stitch...
*** The End ***