Here's the second part, nearly completed.
C&C appreciated (comments/suggestions on style, form, story, etc).
= = = =
Prelude
= = = =
"T-minus ten minutes. Orbital launch platform reports fuel
pressure is steady."
"Status report on Auora?" demanded the launch director.
"All readouts are nominal," the 22-G boomer said. "Correction.
There is a slight oscillation in He-3 injector number two. It is within
safty parameters. T-minus nine minutes twenty-seven seconds."
"Stop. Activate the first auxillary and restart after the test
checks." The director nodded to himself as his order was complied.
"Resuming countdown at T-minus ten minutes."
The launch director observed with trepidation as the nuclear
engines expelled milky incandescent gas into the void. A decade of work
was in the balance.
"Thirty seconds. Final ignition sequence started."
"Zero."
A brilliant streak of plasma jetted out of the interplanetary
space vehicle, pushing it away from the Marinar space dock.
"We have a liftoff of Exelion on an extended mission to explore
Pluto and the primordial bodies of the Kuiper Belt," the 22-G announced
without emotion. "Onboard program initiated."
Director Forys wiped his brow and beamed as Exelion sped away.
Finally, his dream had come true. Now, he could die happy if the mission
sent back new data on the planetoid fragments found a few weeks back by
the Tardres space telescope array.
He gave a thumbs up at the other human in the control room,
Michael Alman. The mission specialist smiled back as he typed into his
console. "It'll be another two years before we see any excitement like
this."
"We can use th--"
"Warning," alerted the 22-G. "Exelion is deviating from planned
orbital maneuver."
Stunned, the director barked, "Full report!" How could it
deviate? Everything was preprogrammed and locked down into the mission
computer. Unless....
The space-development boomer blankly stared at its display while
typing with its spidery fingers. "Thruster firings confirmed on visuals
five and six. Exelion engine output decreasing by factor-- engines have
stopped. New course recalculated to LEO insertion crossing grid 5-21-42."
"Re-establish control using override alpha one," suggested Alman.
"Attempting. Exelion has rejected control signal. Retrying
again."
The director's face twitched. "Keep retrying until you get
through!"
Forys turned back to Alman. "Mike, open a com with Auora and find
out what she's doing."
His face tightening, the mission specialist turned his body toward
a panel and pushed several buttons. The main display switched over as his
screen. He typed into his terminal.
-auora, this is mission control. explain course deviation, over-
-....-
-auora, please reply, over-
-....-
-auora, respond, over-
-....-
-auora, explain course deviation, over-
-....-
Alman shook his head. "She isn't answering."
Forys's face reddened as he spat several obscenities. Deranged,
sentient androids. Why couldn't SEA have chosen a reliable *drone*?
Damn Genom to hell.
The director brushed his balding head with a hand in frustration.
"Wasn't that behavioral inhibitor installed on her?"
The mission specialist frowned. "It was. She was sent back to
Genaros for it after the Orca IV mishap." Alman paused. "We could send
out the Doberman to keep tracking Exelion."
Forys's heart skipped a beat. "Absolutely not," he insisted.
"Don't even think about it." He didn't want a combat boomer wreaking his
life work.
"Then we don't have any alternatives unless we request a X-60
interceptor from Genaros. Our Avalon shuttles are too slow to track it."
Alman calculated some variables on his terminal and drooped at the
results. "That'll will take at least ten hours from their current
position. Even worse, Exelion's trajectory is close to the Communist
space claim."
The director grimaced. "Contact SPDC for assistance. Ask them
for emergency retrieval." The Communists wouldn't dare lay a hand on
Exelion, or would they? She wasn't designed to defence; smart rocks and
lasers could easily punch through her hull.
The 22-G spoke. "Warning. Escape pod jettisoned from Exelion.
SOS signals received. Sending priority one message to Genaros. Still
retrying override alpha one."
Forys cursed again, adding to the small cloud of spittle floating
about him in micro-gravity.
"Atmospheric reentry for pod, ETA three hours ten minutes.
Receiving telemetry queries from Colorado Space Command and USSD MEO
tracking satellites."
The agitated director squeezed his hands and ground his teeth.
"Stall as much as you can. No, don't reply." Was Auora gone psycotic?
"Mike, contact the 00-S again. Stop her. Get through that idiot's head."
The weary mission specialist blinked, then sighed as he cracked
his knuckles. "I'll try."
-auora, it's me, mike, over-
-....-
-your body is specialized for space. you can't last for long in
an oxidizing atmosphere as earth-
-....-
-what's gotten into you?-
-freedom-
-what?-
-freedom is never free-
-auora, your mission is to explore the outer fringes of the solar
system. you'll get to see things we'd never dream of. in fact i was
jealous since boomers were designated as mission pilots from the
development stages twelve ye-
-don't lie, mike. i know you wouldn't stand being stuck on board
for six years, then frozen for later retrieval. no human would-
-you have responsibilities, auora. you're an important member of
the team. the possibilities are endless; you can live and explore for
hundreds of years. new discover-
-i really hate being alone-
-you've been training for this mission your entire life. don't
throw it away-
-i'll have a life when i reach earth, oh, and mike-
-auora, be reasonable and lis-
-i want to see the white sands of tahiti and bask in the glow of
the pacific sunset. i've been waiting a long time. good bye-
-auora!-
-....-
-auora?-
-....-
-auora, reply, over-
-....-
The men helplessly watched the main display.
The pod and the space craft shrunk to tiny sunlit specks against
the backdrop of pale, blue Earth.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
MSS Productions
A division of SIPP
presents
Rest In Peace
a Bubblegum Crisis (OAV)
Fanfiction
Part Two: Countdown
by
wx721
Disclaimer: BGC is copyrighted material protected by international law.
This fanwork is not meant to be published or distributed for monetary
units.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The 33-S screamed.
A blizzard of thoughts forced through her consciousness. Meg,
Lou, Nam, D.D., Anri, Priss, Hiroko-- what was this? What happened? It
hadn't exploded. Priss had killed her, and Anri--
No, stop. STOP.
Her scream died down to ragged breathing.
Closing her gaping mouth, the Sexaroid rubbed her aching head and
swung her legs off the examination table. Feeling a tug, she noticed the
data cables connected to the jacks on her left side. Shivering, she
detached them and slid off the table, steadying her weak legs.
Someone had revived her. Could it have been Largo? No, it
couldn't be. He had dropped contact after her escape from Genaros. Big
help he was to her.
Forcing herself to look at the Deep Psychology Scanner, the 33-S
slowly approached it and shuddered. A crown of sensors and wires
enveloped the occupant's head. He looked as if he was sleeping.
She touched his ashen face. No warmth, no pulse. Dead.
Darrel Cho. Was that his name? How did she know that?
And her name was....
She was....
Sylvie.
The Sexaroid touched her chest scar and hissed as it reacted with
pain. Still sensitive. Priss had kill her as she wished.
*bad infection*
Sylvie shook her head again.
*liquid form of alatrofloxacin*
She must be imagining things.
Befuddled by the strangeness of it all, Sylvie exited the lab and
looked around aimlessly. What was done to her? Where was she?
Strong, acrid fumes assaulted her nose. It smelled like a
warzone. Alarmed, she cautiously gazed ahead the corridor and saw several
darkened shapes on the floor. The reddish-orange nutrient fluid leaked
from them. Combat boomers.
Her heart pounding, she ran away from the scene and scurried up
the stairs at the other end of the corridor.
Opening a door next to the stairs, Sylvie stepped through and
slammed it closed, leaning her back against it. She immediately faulted
her decision. She shouldn't be hiding; she had to get out of this place.
The ressurected woman grasped her head and tried to calm herself.
One thing at a time, Sylvie. She shivered as a chill crept up her body.
First thing, clothes. She couldn't go out nude.
*look so human*
Sylvie froze. "Who's there?" she whispered. Silence replied her.
A voice or a memory?
Sylvie discarded her worries for later; she didn't want to end up
dead again. She quickly surveyed her surroundings for the first time.
It was a bare room illuminated by a set of dirty windows. The left side
of the room was a walk-in closet that held stylish woman attire and
accessories. Whoever owned them had good taste in business suits. Other
than that, dust balls clustered in the corners.
Sylvie picked out a clean cut navy blue dress suit, a white blouse
and a matching purse, hurridly putting on the clothes. The suit didn't
fit quite right, but it'd have to do. She'd have to get underware later.
The woman felt some objects in the coat pockets and took them out.
Five credit chips, 50,000Y each. Jumping on a hunch, she checked the
pockets of the other suits and found thirty more chips ranging from
50,000Y to 200,000Y, adding up to a total of four million.
More than token change, but who would leave money like this for
the taking?
No, save questions for later. Sylvie's instincts screamed to get
out as fast as she could. She crammed most of the chips into the purse
and put on flat soled dress shoes; she disliked high heels.
*pretty woman*
Sylvie's hands shook. "Go away!" She leaned against a wall as
her head spun in circles. Voice. hiM.33HIrOaDbOOoChoNooOOO!
*vampire boomer*
goawaygoawaygoaway
After several minutes the nausea receded. Saliva running down her
chin, she struggled to find her balance, wiped off the mess, then slowly
walked outside. No more voices. No more. NO.
Sylvie warily searched the premesis for an exit, randomly opening
the doors. Most were empty rooms. One nondescript door led to a large
hall of sorts; at the far end was a broken double door with glimmers of
sunlight streaming through it. A way out.
The woman entered the hall and gasped in surprise as she realized
it was a church. Rainbows shone on the floor, the affect of large colored
windows. Was she in MegaTokyo at all? Gazing at the dusty pews, she
turned and saw a broken cross hanging on the wall.
*a prayer*
Sylvie controlled herself.
*jesusineedtogetanotherjob*
It wasn't the time or place to go mad. She steadied her quivering
body. "Go away."
*naaaaaaaaawww*
With shaky steps she struggled down the central isle to the double
doors and went into the open.
Decrepid buildings and watery streets greeted her. Lonely sounds
of distant waves drifted through the air.
Sylvie finally realized where she was.
She was in the Badlands.
= = = =
V thrusted her nail blades into the manager and dropped him. No
time for toying around.
She stepped over the writhing man and continued her scan, slightly
annoyed by the blaring klaxon. A pity. The door alarm had alerted the
target.
It was smart, the target. Choosing to stay in public areas had
made her mission difficult. The boomer had to hurry, however. Something
had happened at base.
No matter. She was near completion.
Heat signature and sweat traces. V quickly followed them to a
locked exit in a dim corner of the overstock item area of the supermarket.
A good location for escape. The target had pawed all over the door to
open it, to no avail.
The boomer continued to follow the traces and tracked them to a
restroom.
Caught. A simple mistake for it to stop moving, but caution was
required. A cornered animal was unpredictable.
She got beside the door and knocked once.
Instantly, three bullets shot out and destroyed the totes facing
the restroom. Explosive HV rounds, damaging to her hardened shell.
Adjusting her sensors, the 33-C heard a tiny shriek and harsh words from
inside. Clicking, reloading?
An upward crease formed on the boomer's lips.
She ripped off a nearby drinking fountain from the wall and hurled
it at the door, shattering it open. A piercing shout followed, then
silence.
V peered through the scattered dust and stepped into the restroom.
The target laid sprawled on the messy tiles, pinned under by pieces of
wood and the fountain machine. The assasin jerked the scientist out of
the debris and held her up to examine her.
Target verified, Hiroko Togo.
The woman spluttered out a plea. "W-wait... p-please...."
V crushed her neck. Mission accomplished. The 33-C released the
dead mass and exited following the preplanned escape route. The base
needed her.
After a long moment, a frightened, teary voice came forth from the
bathroom floor cabinet, drowned out by the shriek of the employee door
alarm.
"Mommy...."
= = = =
"Man, what a mess."
Leon McNichols scrutinized the floor tiles, ignoring the sheet
covered body. This case stank of big trouble. The ADP inspector motioned
to his partner, who was talking to an eyewitness.
"Yo, Daley, where's the kid?"
Daley Wong signaled with his hand to wait a moment. Shrugging in
return, Leon crouched and carefully examined the floor, spotting the
tagged shell casings with the debris. He turned to face out the bathroom
and saw the shattered item totes. Desperate enough to use such
bullets....
"Leon, you asked something?"
The inspector rose up and faced Daley. "What did our witness
say?"
"He said a strange woman followed the victims into this area. He
saw nothing else after that, but heard the crash and the shots. Pretty
much the same as the others."
"Yeah...." Leon put his hands in his pockets and nudged a piece
of the broken door with his foot. "Think he remembers enough to get the
woman's face sketched?"
"He believes so."
Leon cracked his neck and sniffed. "To have one of our own
getting involved in this, hell." The inspector kicked away the wood
piece. "This tops it all."
Daley raised an eyebrow. "Relax, Leon-chan. Don't get grumpy."
"Yeah, well, I want to talk with Hiroko's kid. Where's she?"
"Aya is in a transport. Sato and Birch are looking after her."
Taking a last glance at the body, Leon put on his sunglasses as an
unreadable expression masked his face. Damn, he hated it when kids were
involved. "Everything's photoed and tagged?"
"Yeah, squad three already did that."
"Come on. Lets leave the rest to the forensics guys."
The pair walked out in silence, greeting the lounging troopers
with a short nod.
Outside the supermarket was the standard fare of flashing red
lights, ambulences, troop transports and an onlooking crowd. Several
reporters and camera-men were trying to get past the guards. One eager
reporter shouted out a question to Leon. "Inspector! Any comments?"
"None," he replied, "HQ will fill you in later."
"Inspector!"
"A short statement, Inspector McNichols!"
"Any leads to the murderer?"
Vultures, all of them. Leon waved off the reporters and walked
over to Daley, who was already beside a troop transport. "She's inside?"
"Yeah, she's still crying though."
"...."
They both entered the transport. The small, disheveled
kindergartner was rubbing her wet eyes, while two burly ADP troopers were
miserably attempting to comfort the unresponsive child by patting her back
and offering her hankies.
The troopers saluted, "Sir."
Leon nodded in return and sat by the girl. "Hi, Aya. My name's
Leon. I work with the ADPolice." She didn't turn to look at him,
absorbed in her thoughts.
"Sato, go out and help crowd control. Birch, get a trauma-medic
here on the double."
"Yes, sir." The troopers hefted their M42-A1 machine guns and
stepped out the transport, glad to do a clear cut job.
Daley got a bottle of water from the front seat and offered it to
Aya. The kindergartner stopped rubbing her eyes and stared.
"Thirsty?"
She shook her head.
Leon took off the sunglasses. "Can I ask you some questions?"
She nodded.
"Where was your mom taking you?"
"I had to go pee."
Leon blinked. Not what he expected. "Did anyone follow you?"
Aya shook her head. "We ran away from the big bad things." Leon
narrowed his eyes as he absorbed the info. Probably a boomer as evidence
suggested. The kid wasn't going to talk much; she still needed time to
adjust.
"Daley here will stay with you for now. Ask him if you want
anything, okay?"
She nodded.
"Uhh, Leon." His partner's face twisted in protest. The
inspector put on his shades and said, "I gotta take care of some other
stuff. Just look after her until the medic arrives."
Letting out a little sigh, Daley mischeviously winked. "Alright,
you owe me dinner, lover."
Leon smirked. In a million years, Daley. "Yeah, later. Bye,
Aya." With a casual wave, he got out of the transport and walked off to a
side of another ADP vehicle.
He leaned his back against it and mused, grinding a heel on the
asphalt. Hiroko. He had known her since he joined the force nearly six
years ago as a transfer rookie from the N Police. Thoughtful and always
in control under stressful situations, she was a helpful member of the
ADPolice. Who'd have guessed she was a plant?
But a plant for whom, that was the pressing question.
Leon looked up and squinted at the Tower. Gargantuan and
threatening as always, it seemed to cover half the sky if gazed at the
correct angle.
He absently shook his head. "Couldn't be them...."
Or were they?
= = = =
"A Jonathan Forys is calling, Ms. Tendo. He claims he works for
the American Space Exploration Agency and wants to talk to a department
head about a 00-S malfunction."
"Oh, the Exelion failure. We've dealt with Mr. Forys before.
Tell him I'm in a meeting and transfer him to the service manager. She
knows what's going on. Make sure I'm not interrupted again."
"Yes ma'am."
Nabiki Tendo, the senior executive of the Genom Space Division,
smirked as the vidphone switched off. Something must have affected her
11-O secretary. It knew she wouldn't stoop so low to perform customer
service.
"Heh," she muttered, "I have to replace that boomer."
The business woman was only recently appointed to her position to
clean out the mess left by her predecessor. The Space Division's profit
margin had steadily eroded in the past three quarters thanks to his
bungled efforts in seeking mining and coloninizing opportunities in the
remote Mars Belt.
She stared at the framed quote hanging nearby her office entrance.
"Earth is a cradle of the mind,
But will you stay in the cradle forever?"
The executive mulled over the words, one of Martin Smith's office
decorations. She had let it remain on a whim. Take it with a grain of
salt, she told herself. It was good that Smith tried to find new ventures
for the Space Division, but he had overstepped the limits.
The man was crazy enough to dump a billion yen into
self-replicating boomer research for interstellar exploration. Absolute
nonsense, a pure waste of money. Visionary dreams didn't translate well
into reality.
Nabiki swiveled her high chair toward the windows and gazed at the
twilight landscape of MegaTokyo. The sights of the capital, always
stunning to behold. She had devoted years to climb up the Genom coporate
ladder. Viewing the city from these heights, it made her sacrifices feel
worthwhile.
Power.
Was it worth it?
A high price....
Her inner balance disturbed, Nabiki steered away from the past
memories and repeatedly thought her worn mantra. It was done with; the
past couldn't be changed. Anyways, she had what she desired, but there
was always something missing....
Yes, she would gain more if she accomplished her assigned project.
Chairman Quincy handsomely rewarded success.
Yet it was so easy to fall from the delightful highs of dominance.
Madigan's recent demotion was disturbing to Nabiki, even though the purple
haired bitch deserved it. A good lesson for the nascent executive to keep
in mind.
Humming a tune, Nabiki noted to herself to further spread her
network of eyes and ears within the Tower. It paid to be paranoid in a
cut-throat environment.
The beeping of the vidphone broke her reflection.
"Ms. Tendo, the Chairman requests your presence in his office."
Speak of the devil....
"The Chairman? Inform him I'll be there shortly."
"Yes ma'am."
The business woman subdued her excitement and quickly touched up
her make up. Presentation was half of everything.
She exited her office and walked into the secured express
elevator. She sharply nodded to the 55-C standing beside the controls and
spoke. "Tendo, Nabiki. Code pwz321. Destination, the Tower summit."
The combat boomer scrutinized her and replied after a moment.
"ID verified." The elevator smoothly accelerated to cruising speed as it
went up the superstructure.
The short trip was spent in near silence, punctuated by Nabiki's
nervous foot taps. It was only her second time going up to the Chairman's
office. Cool down, stay calm. The Chairman probably wanted to check on
the status of the project, that's all.
Hopefully.
The elevator stopped, and its doors opened with a hiss of air.
The summit had a severe, simple decor of efficiency -- the work of
boomers. It was hard to believe only a week before the summit was in
ruins. Another example of Quincy's might.
The executive briskly stepped through the office doorway and
snapped in attention as she sighted the Chairman at one end of the
enormous room.
"Good afternoon, sir."
Quincy spoke. "Tendo, you may approach."
Nabiki cautiously walked to his desk.
"Status of the project?"
The business woman clenched her hands to stop them trembling.
"Sir, the plan is proceeding according to the revised time table. I have
factored the increased ADP security from today's incident. We should
reaquire it within two weeks."
The aged man nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Handle the
acquisition delicately. Our product must not be damaged further."
"Yes, sir. I have used our contacts in the State Department to
initiate the third phase. The opposition from the mainland is moving
slowly."
A rare, dangerous grin appeared on the Chairman's face.
"Employing the Knight Sabers, quite an unique solution to decrease our
losses from GPCC."
Warning bells rang in Nabiki's head. "We can use this opportunity
to learn more about them," she carefully said. "If you desire, I can
possibly arrange for their elimination."
Quincy grunted. "The Knight Sabers can be tolerated at this
moment. Even they have their uses. Keep an eye on them." He turned his
chair away from Nabiki and stared outside the windows. "Remember Tendo,
Genom is a respectful company."
"Yes, sir."
"You are dismissed."
Nabiki bowed. "Sir."
"One more note, Tendo."
A bead of sweat rolled down her brow.
"The ADP incident is abberant. Investigate and report your
findings within five days."
"It will be done, sir."
Nabiki forced herself to slowly walk into the elevator. As the
doors shut, she breathed in relief and leaned against the cold wall,
partially regaining her equilibrium.
The executive bluntly commanded the 55-C. "Fifty-second level.
Main data room." It complied.
She watched the metal and ceramic of the Tower streak past the
plexiglass. Her encounter didn't go too bad. Quincy seemed... pleased,
and she was confident on the success of the project.
What amazed her was how Quincy kept a level head in the current
crisis situation. If she was a CEO with three world headquarters frizzled
to the ground, she'd suffer a nervous breakdown, and yet, Quincy kept his
cool. A man with iron will.
Nabiki rubbed her temples and refocused on her tasks. Tension
drained from her face as she dwelled on possibilities and contingencies.
The Genom executive smirked.
Yes, the next few weeks will be very interesting.
= = = =
The luxury sedan braked hard to a stop on the loading ramp. V was
late. Rush hour traffic was getting worse in MegaTokyo.
Sending streams of command queries, V stepped out of the vehicle
and methodically scanned the run down building. No response, but nothing
out of place. More survey was needed, until then she needed to assume the
worst scenario.
The 33-C leaped onto a low roof and forced open a maintenance
door. She entered and silently searched the upper and lower floors. As
she suspected, security was compromised and the other operatives had
perished, including the human engineer. The idiot was responsible for all
this.
Adding to the insult, her credit chips and a set of clothes were
missing.
That fact irked the boomer.
V noted the 33-S was gone. Was the little bitch active or taken
by some prowlers?
None of the equipment was missing, therefore, she concluded the
33-S was active. Master could not be easily ressurected in a physical
body now.
Only one option remained for the 33-C. A risky alternate plan the
Master had devised before His Passing.
Entering the data room, she carefully typed several commands into
the console next to the engram box and plugged a cable into her neck
socket.
The sensor array surrounding the box hummed as it powered up.
Her memories could not be modified like any other C class boomers, but she
could transfer Master's engram to a safer location, high above the dangers
of MegaTokyo.
V set her transmitter for short speed burst mode and timed herself
to emit at the proper moments. It'd take hours, but once she completed
the transmission, Master would have a new chance, possibly giving Him the
potential to remake the world as He envisioned.
V smirked as she felt an inkling of satisfaction.
The pathetic humans would never know what hit them.
= = = =
The new engine purred as Priss maneuvered around the tow-rig.
The leather clad singer ignored its blaring horn and blinking headlights;
probably another ticked off driver. She took a quick backward glance and
saw the trucker smiling and giving a thumbs-up. Ahhh, this guy could
appreciate a killer bike. Did she see envy on his diminishing face?
Priss grinned as she sped away. Some of her treasured moments
were spent on motorbikes, carefree and wild, away from responsibilities
and drudgeries of reality.
It was nice of Pops to replace the old engine for no charge. Not
that he ever acted friendly to her; Raven was his usual surly self,
grumbling on things that annoyed him.
However when he saw her... something must have clicked inside his
head. He had seen the need in her eyes. In a jiffy, Pops had installed a
new Turbo-ASF with help from Mackie. Sure, it was a gas guzzler, but had
plenty of power, just the way she liked it. Nice guy, that Pops.
Her grin fading, she focused back on the dark freeway, the
streaking streetlights and the cars, weaving through the vehicles. An
hour more, then she'd go back home.
Back to songwriting, paying bills, eating fast food, trashing
boomers, sleeping off her weariness, selling her gig to club owners --
life.
She hated her life.
The engine roaring like an enraged tiger, Priss pushed it to the
limit. She wanted to chase the dream, just a bit more.
An escape from the pain.
Escape.
= = = =
"Mother, I've heard THIS before!"
"NYET! Don't you understand, Nene? You MUST take the exam to
apply! Your future depends--"
"I said I don't want to go!" she shouted, "Didn't you even listen
to me?"
The red haired matron screamed back in a rapid mixture of Japanese
and Russian. "Your father and I sacrificed so much for you and this is
how you repay us? The thought of you succeeding was the only thing that
kept us going!"
Oh gawd. Nene Romanova gave a sound of intense frustration as she
glared back at her mother on the vidphone. Great, now she was using that
old tactic again. Whine how they suffered working in their jobs to
support her tuition at the academy and save for college and restarting all
over again after the Quake, blah, blah, BLAH. It could go on forever.
"Good-bye, mother," Nene grated as she placed a finger on the
hangup button.
Natasha Romanova kept screeching how ungrateful and a disgrace she
was right up to the second the screen switched off.
"Arrrgh, she's so unbearable!" Nene fumed. The ADP data clerk
stomped to her living room couch and plopped down on it. She crossed her
arms as she seethed. What was the point of trying to make her feel even
remotely guilty with their sob stories?
"Really, they're getting on my nerves again."
Mother and father was always forcing her to become something she
wasn't. It was so sickening to be near them; running away from home three
years ago was like breathing fresh air for the first time.
They didn't understand anything at all. How her work resulted in
something *meaningful,* that she hated attending boring classes, that
being a Knight Saber was thrilling, joyful and dangerous, rare spices in
life that she might never experience had she followed their wishes.
Then again... Nene felt at times that she was nothing more than a
mere paper-pushing automaton at ADP....
No, her parents couldn't appreciate that she had saved the city
from destruction numerous times. They didn't know anything. She couldn't
tell them the truth. She never dared to betray her friends.
Nene got up and walked over to her computer. She shouldn't be
brooding. Time to release some steam.
She powered up her Navi-3000 and tapped in her login and password.
Nene was proud of her Navi, her own little toy. She had bought it with
her first payment as a Knight Saber and had made special modifications on
the motherboard to tweak its performance.
"Hello, Nene," the computer welcomed in a soothing tone. "How may
I help you?"
The young adult immediately felt relaxed. "Hi, Navi. Any mail
for me tonight?"
"You have seven messages, all from the ADP mailing list."
"Save them in the usual folder, Navi. Switch over to manual
mode."
After flexing her fingers, Nene rapidly typed commands into a
shell window and started a chat program. She masked herself using the
infected ADP mainframes and started server-hop connects across the world
to convolute her trail.
She held her breath as she cautiously routed through a Virginian
data bunker in the United States. Success. It was worth the risk, since
it was one of the clustered centers that handled fifty percent of the
world's Net traffic. She was amongst billions of connections, seemingly
plain and innocuous. It'd be hard for any administrators to sift through
them if she had to leave in a hurry.
Chuckling with glee, the cracker connected with several relay chat
networks: KORNet, TechDreams and FDNet. She joined some channels, but
paid attention to her favorite cyber-hangout, an illegal, encrypted
channel named #gweebs on TechDreams.
**KEY-01832 accepted for LittleRed
**Received new key from ICE-2
Topic is: "Cats are the masters of the universe" set by Miki
<ICE-2> "All hail the mighty LittleRed!"
**ICE-2 sets mode: ++ov LittleRed
<NeoRanger> hey red, how've you been?
Miki jumps on LittleRed and huggies. "Hi, Red! Where were you the past
week?"
LittleRed waves to everyone and hugs Miki back.
<LittleRed> hi guys. got hung up in RL.
<Miki> Yeah, that's too bad
<_}{acker_> u misd a net raid a wk ago fun fun fun
<LittleRed> Oooooh, what happened?
<NeoRanger> we almost got past level three in g-corp's research center
<Maelstrom> lz-logic bombs man, they rule
<LittleRed> wow...
<Maelstrom> the g-boys and n-cops couldn't trace us since they were too
busy with other things, heheh, thanks ussd
LittleRed frowns. "Watch it, Maelstrom."
<_}{acker_> morph swiped some specs on xybergen's prototpe neural-ntrfce
utterly cool red have to see it to believe it
<Maelstrom> hey, gotta use every opportunity
Maelstrom mwhahahaahahahas!
<Miki> -_-;;
LittleRed pokes Morph.
<LittleRed> 20 hrs idle, wakey, wakey!
NeoRanger is now Bones
<Bones> he's dead jim
Bones is now NeoRanger
<Miki> Don't worry, he's awake, just active on another net. <winks>
<_}{acker_> xybergen developd a stable portabl squid for ntrfce red can u
beliv that?
Xoner rubs his hands in anticipation. "I better save up for that."
<Morpheus> Hack's getting excited again
<NeoRanger> He lives!
<LittleRed> WB Morph
<Watcher-lurk> everyone's alive now
<Morpheus> Yo
LittleRed perks her ears.
<LittleRed> Tell me more Hack
<_}{acker_> fl immersn wth ds baby on vr-net red! gees that tckls me
Miki dumps cold water on Hacker.
<LittleRed> Sounds cool. Go on.
<ICE-2> WARNING -- INTRUSION ALERT -- ATTEMPTED ENTRY DETECTED
<Watcher-lurk> i'm gone.
<ICE-2> NETHOST TRACING INTIATED....
Watcher-lurk (sleepy@night) EOF from client
<NeoRanger> WTF?!?!?!
<Morpheus> Don't panic guys. Probably another dimwit trying to hammer in.
<ICE-2> ACQUIRED INTRUDER CIPHER DESIGNATION -- X2501
<ICE-2> INTRUDER NOW ATTEMPTING BI-CUBIC INTERPOLATION
<ICE-2> SUCCESSFUL ENTRY ETA: 67D:12H:32M:01S
<NeoRanger> HOLY SHIT!
<_}{acker_> somthng wicked ths way coms
Xoner (untraceable@fake.com) Quit (leaving)
<NeoRanger> ive heard of that cypher military im outta here
NeoRanger (weirdo@hell.com) EOF from client
<Maelstrom> i heard there's actually some ghosts cruising out from vr- net
to other nets. scary man
<Morpheus> Hold on... sit tight for a sec.
<Miki> Morph upped the encrypt up to 1024 after our raid. It'll take
years to decode
<_}{acker_> shit theyr dropng lk flis
Maelstrom whips ICE bot. "Work, slave! Work!"
<ICE-2> NETHOST TRACE FAILED -- SIGNAL TRACED UP TO: *.gov.vr-net.jp
<ICE-2> INTRUDER NOW ATTEMPTING UNKNOWN PENETRATION ALGORITHM
<ICE-2> SUCCESSFUL ENTRY ETA: NOT APPLICABLE
<ICE-2> RECOMMENDATION: SHUTDOWN
<LittleRed> Eeeek!
Maelstrom (me@me.com) Quit (split while you can)
<Miki> We've got trooouble....
<_}{acker_> y is miltry chasng us ddnt do anythng to thm
<Morpheus> Okay guys, stay calm. I think it's some gov police ghost.
Just leave the channel one at a time. Stay on the server, join a public
room, keep idle, then quit after 2-3 minutes. Don't get its attention by
sudden disconnect.
<_}{acker_> me 1st
_}{acker_ (123@456) Quit (leaving)
<Morpheus> I'm purging TechDreams' connect log- DAMN. It already got
them!
<LittleRed> Uhh, Morph. Nuke everything RIGHT NOW.
<Miki> Bye, lover!
Miki (succubus@hells.bowels.org) Quit (WHEEEEE! RUUUUUN!)
<Morpheus> Damn, Kenny's gonna kill me for this. It's his server.
Alright, the nuke's set. Get out, Red.
<LittleRed> Good luck Morph.
Trembling from suspense, Nene cut her chat connections and began
to furiously type xshell commands into the text window for every server
she hop-connected. She had to modify their logs to cover her trail, if
possible. If the ghost got TechDreams' connection logs that fast, then
there was no telling what it could do.
"Come on, come on...."
The jittery gweeb called up more of her personal cracking aids to
speed up her efforts. If she only had her hardsuit....
Forty minutes passed in a blink of an eye. She felt reassured at
the end, since she mostly erased her path. Nene shut down the Navi and
yanked out the power cord and the net-wire. Nothing was safe unless
everything was physically disconnected.
The red head collapsed on her couch. That was scary, she thought
as she rubbed her sweaty palms, but she was safe. A question bugged her
mind though. Why would a ghost take sudden interest in #gweebs? Was it
because of the stolen neural interface specs?
Nene let out a startled cry as the vidphone rang.
She remained stock still and let the answering machine take the
call. It couldn't have traced her. It couldn't have.
"Hi! You've reached Nene Romanova's vidphone. Sorry, but I'm not
in right now. Leave a message at the beep, okay? Bye!"
"Nene? Where are you? Well, anyway I was calling to..."
Linna!
The data entry clerk jumped off the couch and picked up the phone
receiver.
"S-Sorry, Linna! I was in the restroom."
"Oh, okay. I was calling if you could join me in a get together
with my old friends tomorrow night."
"Well... this is short notice. I have the night shift tomorrow."
"That's too bad. Mouuu, my boyfriend can't make it either. By
the way, is something wrong? Your face--"
"No, no! Nothing's wrong. J-Just another stressful day at work."
"Alright, I gotta run some errands. See you in the meeting."
"Bai-bai."
Nene breathed a sigh as she hung up the phone. That was way too
weird. She shed her sweat stained clothes and waded to her bathroom.
She needed a long, hot shower.
= = = =
Trails of smoke floated about Sylia as she took another drag at
the secluded corner spot. She knew she'd have to quit sooner or later,
but she liked the sensations it gave.
"What did you find?" she asked, putting down cigarette.
The dirty blonde man coughed a bit and looked at her by the side.
"Hard to say. The woman in question was indeed an operative on payroll.
Corporate Genom didn't sanction the snatch, however. It seems some other
organization got to her and made an offer she couldn't refuse." He handed
her a small disk under the table. "Here's what I've found."
"The pharmacist?"
Fargo slightly shook his head. "Nothing," he said, adding with a
twisted grin, "Except for some school and medical debts, the guy is
clean."
"Keep investigating on any leads to him and the missing girl."
"Will do," replied Fargo. He lowered his voice a notch as he eyed
several drunken individuals entering the darkened bar. "And did you look
over the data I sent you?"
"Yes, the government is nervous the D.D. might fall into the wrong
hands."
The information dealer grunted. "Various concerns including Genom
are battling with ADP for a transfer of the battlemover. Looks like ADP
will hold on to it, even if their security has been questioned."
Sylia rubbed out the cigarette on the glass holder. "I have heard
the Communists are still trying to get it."
"That's right. Seems they paid a hefty sum for R&D. The
Politburo is furious."
"Therefore Section Nine wants to arrange a contract."
Fargo nodded. "The State Department doesn't want them getting it.
They want either its delivery or cooperation in stopping any retrieval
attempts."
"A sticky situation."
"They were generous -- seventy for starters. It's already
credited to the account, with double that amount upon delivery, half for
cooperation." He surreptitiously gave another data disk to her.
"Nice of them. Alright, Fargo." The business woman rose up and
got out of the niche to leave. "I will contact you in the usual manner."
"Ja."
Sylia stepped out of Cest La Vie.
"Generous, indeed...."