BGC is used without permission
X-Men used without permission
======================================================
Leon McNichol downed the rest of what the other officers laughingly called
coffee, hoping that the vile substance would revitalize his weary mind. His
head was propped in his hand, which was in turn propped on his desk by his
elbow.
If Boomers had to go rogue, why couldn't they do it at a decent hour?
"Wow, Leon," Daley said as he came up to the desk. "You look like hell."
"Being up for twenty-four hours straight can do that to you," the latter
groused. "Whadda we got?"
"Well, Patrolman Ricks' story about how his aerodyne malfunctioned checks
out. Totally polarized."
"Just like that Boomer."
"Yeah. Two Boomers in two nights, both magnetized beyond the point of data
recovery."
"One crushed, and the other dismemebered." What kind of weapon were they up
against? "His description of the guy on the roof was pretty vague."
"Yeah, too bad. Say, Leon, I got something you're gonna love."
"Daley, this is getting really old..."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetie-pie," Daley admonished with a
wink. "Another witness."
"What?!" Leon exclaimed, suddenly fully alert.
"Yep. A woman who claims she saw what happened to the Boomer. One of our
patrol cars almost ran her down last night."
"Where is she?"
"In the interrogation room. She's pretty shaken up."
"Can she talk?"
"Yeah. She's waiting for us right now."
Leon practically bolted upright, rubbing the weariness from his eyes.
"Let's go, then. Maybe she can tell us something new."
The interrogation room was tiny, the four concrete walls lending a
claustrophobic aura to the entire space. Along the far wall was a large
one-way mirror, where other ADPolice officers were no doubt waiting to
record the questioning. There were, after all, procedures to stick to, even
in the increasingly lawless Mega-Tokyo.
Leon entered first, seeing the woman seated at the bare metal table. Her
raven's wing hair was dishevelled, delicate face pale and drawn. A steaming
mug of pseudo-coffe sat before her, untouched. Her clothes were in a state
of serious disarray, tiny tears in the fabric.
"Miss Satori?" He asked as he sat down.
"Yes." her voice sounded tiny, as if she was still terrified.
"I'm detective Leon McNichol. This is my partner..."
"Daley Wong."
"We understand you were a witness to last night's rogue Boomer incident."
He had to play it careful. Leon had seen people like her before. The wrong
thing could send her off the deep end. He had to be easy with her.
"I was. It..."
"What happened, dear?" Daley asked tenderly. If only he was straight, Leon
thought.
"The Boomer... it killed Hiroshi!"
"Miss..."
"Please... don't let it get me!"
"Yuka, please!" Leon exclaimed. "The Boomer's destroyed. Nobody's gonna
hurt you!"
Yuka cried for a few moments before managing to regain her composure. She
looked up at him with red tinged eyes, eyes that begged him to be telling
the truth.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Leon said. "Just tell us what you know."
"Please, honey," Daley added. "We promise, nothing's going to get you here."
"Hiroshi and I... we were parked in Sector nintey-seven."
"Weird place for a date," Leon commented.
"I told him that. Hiroshi said we'd leave, find another place."
"Don't blame him."
"Before he could start the car... it came."
"The Boomer?" As if it isn't obvious, Leon thought.
"We saw the red eyes in the mirrors. The next thing I knew, the front of
the car was pointing up in the air. I must have blacked out, because the
next thing I knew I was across the alley, staring at Hiroshi's..."
"Dear heart, you don't have to tell us about that," Daley said in his most
soothing voice.
"What happened next?"
"Well, Detective, it started coming for me. Suddenly, it was hanging in the
air... like someone was holding it. And then it flew across the street."
"Really?" Leon asked, not completely convinced. Her story sounded
incredible, like something out of a cheap horror movie. "Are you sure?"
"You don't believe me," Yuka growled. "I know what I saw!" She leapt up
from her seat, hands banging down on the table. "I saw that metal bastard
murder Hiroshi! I..."
"Miss Satoshi! Please calm down!" Daley exclaimed, obviously not wanting to
get too close to the raving woman across the table. "We only want to make
sure your story..."
"Isn't a lie!" she shouted. The door to the interrogation room banged open,
revealing two uniformed ADPolice officers ready to restrain Yuka. Leon waved
toward them, telling them silently not to interfere. "Hiroshi's dead! That's
no lie!"
"We know, and we're very sorry," Leon said in what he hoped was a soothing
voice. "Anyway, will you tell us what happened next? Please?" Yuka stood for
a few moments more, slender body still trembling before she sat back down.
The door closed once more as the two officers left.
"After the Boomer was thrown, I heard a voice from above... a man's voice
telling me to run."
"What did he sound like?" Daley asked.
"His accent was really strange, not like anything I'd heard before. Also,
I'm not sure, but I don't think he really knows Japanese."
"How do you know?"
"The way he told me to run. It was like he was still really struggling to
learn."
Leon cast a wary glance at Daley, which the other returned. Maybe the guy
Ricks saw was real after all.
"Is there anything else you can remember?" Leon asked. "Anything at all
would help us."
"My jewelry," she replied, glancing briefly at her wrists.
"Excuse me?"
"Mr. Wong, when the Boomer was up in the air, my jewelry started to fly off
of my body. My watch, rings, necklace, everything."
"Well, Leon, that was certainly interesting," Daley said as the two made
their way back to ADP Boomer Crimes Division.
"Pretty unbelievable if you ask me," the other replied, "but it does mesh
with some of what we know."
"Our forensics hounds found some unusual things near the Boomer's wreckage.
It does, actually, look like jewelry."
"Really?"
"Pretty cheap stuff, too. More gold-plate than real gold. Costume jewelry,
really. Kinda tacky, too."
"This keeps getting weirder by the second. What do you think about the
voice bit?"
"Sounds to me like the guy our man saw on the roof of that building," Daley
said as the two entered the office space they shared with the other Boomer
Crimes detectives. The sound of muted voices filled the air alongside the
strident calls of telephones and the occaisional sqwawk of dispatch
messages. "At least we have more than we did last night."
"Yeah." Leon flopped down in his chair, stretching his back and legs as he
leaned back. "So, it's a good bet our mystery man knows something, may even
be involved somehow. Do we have a face?"
"Afraid not, Leon. The aerodyne's systems were totally fried. Thing is, the
video and audio recorders look to have been hit the hardest."
"Somebody doesn't like an audience. Okay, we look at Ricks' description,
and Yuka's story about how he had trouble speaking Japanese, and what do we
get?"
"An immigrant. Probably an illegal," Daley said, scratching his chin.
"Don't think he's exactly a tourist."
"Which means that Immigration is gonna want a part of this one," Leon
groused. "The last thing we need is to bump heads with those idiots."
"We'll keep this quiet for now."
"Good idea. I'll have a few of my guys roust the local bums. You check out
homeless shelters in the area."
"Hey, Leon."
"Yeah? What is it?"
"I've been thinking lately..."
"It's overrated, really."
"Seriously. Have you heard on TV about those... you know... mutants?"
"Oh, come on, Daley," Leon groaned. "You really don't think that a mutant
is responsible for this, do you?"
"It could be."
"Jeez. Mutants are just a hoax! Some crackpot scientists are preaching the
next stage of evolution, and a bunch of stupid people are buying it."
"What if you're wrong, Leon?"
"I'm not wrong. Besides, mutants or not, it's got nothing to do with our case."
=============================================================
Priss slowly awoke in the small bed that occupied her home. Her mind
struggled to rise from the depths of sleep, slowly dragging her body along.
She unconsciously flopped her arm across the bed, finding it conspicuously
empty.
"Sho?" she muttered as she opened her eyes.
"Yeah, Priss?" he replied, suddenly appearing before her. His clothes were
filthy and rumpled, hair tousled from sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
"Fine." she rose to a sitting position, and was greeted with a strange sight.
Her place was clean.
Spotless, even.
"I had to do something," Sho said, "to thank you for letting me stay."
"Man, it's never looked this good..."
"Really?"
Priss smiled at the boy whose eyes were near beaming. She never realized
how eager to please he was. Almost like he was desperately trying to gain
praise.
My God, she thought, how alone HAS he been over the years?
"Really," she replied as she climbed out of bed. "I can't remember the last
time it was this clean. Say, how about some breakfast. You must be starved."
"I couldn't find anything in the fridge," Sho said.
A knock sounded at the door, cutting off Priss' reply. She climbed out of
bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in her suit as best she could. Who could be
here so early?
Well, to her, eleven o'clock was pretty early.
"Good morning, Priss," Sylia said as the former opened the door.
"Sylia? What..."
"We missed you at the meeting last night, so I decided to stop by. Nene has
found some interesting information."
"Yeah?"
"May I come in?"
"Listen, now isn't really..." Priss looked down just as a boy came up
beside her. Sylia took in his torn and stained clothes, plain blue shorts
and a white tee shirt, and the trembling form inside them. It was plain that
he was scared, and of her at that.
"And who are you, young man?" she asked as she knelt down to look in his
eyes. Sylia didn't like the thought of children being scared of her, despite
the cool facade she displayed.
"I'm Sho," he replied, wrapping a protective arm around Priss' waist. So
THIS was the boy Priss had taken care of off an on before.
"My name is Sylia. I'm a friend of Priss."
Sho looked up at Priss, who nodded. He relaxed almost visibly then, his
posture suddenly less rigid, yet his arm still remained attached to the
woman beside him.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Sylia," he said with a small bow.
"Likewise," she said with a soft smile.
"Listen, Sho," Priss said, "why don't you go get a bath, huh? Sylia and I
have to talk."
"Okay."
"And that's it," Sylia said, wrapping up the details of what she had gathered.
"He sure gets around," Priss replied, taking a sip of coffee and reveling
in the warmth.
"In fact, another incident happened just last night."
"And he doesn't waste any time. What do you know?"
"Nothing, yet. We were unable to get to the scene before the ADPolice. Nene
will tell us what they find out."
"Okay."
Sylia regarded Priss for a moment, the latter staring into her cup. It was
obvious that something had been bothering her, and Sylia had a feeling that
boy was involved.
"Tell me. Sho, was he the reason you were unable to attend last night?"
"Yeah."
"I don't mean to pry, but what happened?"
"I went to the orphanage last night to check on him," Priss said with a
sigh. "When I got there, they told me he'd ran away."
"How did you find him?"
"He was here when I got home."
"When are you taking him back?"
"I don't know."
"Hm?" They were getting to the heart of the matter, and Sylia felt an
uneasy sensation in her stomach. What was going on?
"He's scared of something. I just don't know what."
Sylia felt the unease grow. What could the problem be?
"Has he said anything?"
"He said that the other kids were scared of him. He said he could do things."
"What kind of things?"
"He didn't tell me, and I don't want to ask yet."
"I understand. Either way, I'll contact you when we know more about the
Boomer killings."
Priss watched Sylia leave, her own confusion compounding. She had been too
weary to really think about what Sho had said last night, but now his
cryptic words were becoming more worrisome.
What could he do? Priss wondered as she heard the sound of the shower fade
out. What could make those other kids scared of him?
What could make him so scared of himself?
The realization struck like lightning, bringing her upright again. He was
scared of himself. Why?
The only one who really knew was Sho, and Priss couldn't ask him outright.
But how would she get him to talk?
Suddenly, Priss wished that she'd had more experience with children. Maybe
she shouldn't have put him in the orphanage after all...
Sylia climbed into her car, sunglasses firmly in place as she started the
engine. She didn't know why, but she had the feeling that Sho could end up
to be trouble, both to Priss and the Knight Sabers.
She hated to think of him like that; he was only a boy after all, but how
could Priss fulfill her obligations as a Knight Saber if she had to take
care of Sho?
Sylia reversed the car, bringing it about to make the trip to the highway
and rejoin traffic. She couldn't blame Priss for being protective of him,
Sho was really a sweet boy. And he was having a definite problem. Had she
been in Priss' shoes, she would likely do the same and try to help.
Perhaps this will work itself out, she thought as she merged with the flow
of cars on the thoroughfare.
=====================================================
"I thank you, Tetsuo-san," Erik said in the best Japanese he could manage.
"Yeah, yeah," Tetsuo said in English. His hefty frame seemed to dominate
the cluttered space of the office, even though he was sitting down. Beady
eyes glared at Erik from beneath impossibly thick brows, his entire frame
emanating surly menace. "Just so long as you show up on time. We got a job
lined up tomorrow. Your skinny white-haired ass better be here at seven
sharp, got that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now get outta here, an' I don't want to see you 'till tomorrow morning."
Tetsuo Michiru glared at the gaijin that exited his office with a pittance
of an advance in his pocket.
Damn gaijins, he thought. The country'd be better off without 'em. While he
professed not to like foreigners, Tetsuo didn't hesitate to use them. If
nothing else, illegals like that Erik guy made for damn good cheap labor. He
worked them like dogs and paid them not even half what his regulars got. A
few well-placed bribes here and there kept Immigration off his back for the
most part. Hiring illegal aliens like that carried some hefty penalties,
after all.
Erik walked out into the mostly clear day, turning toward the nearest
alley. One thing he had learned was how to get around the confusing layout
of Mega-Tokyo. He had made sure to learn how to tell where he was before he
had started this hunt here.
Tetsuo Michiru, he thought. What a bastard. Erik could tell the lardass
didn't much like him, and would only use him for the cheapest manual labor
he could. But, it didn't matter. Just so long as he had enough money for
food, he'd be fine. He wasn't planning on staying in the city very long, anyway.
He briefly wondered if Tetsuo had any Boomers in his employ. Possibly,
physical labor was one of the main purposes of cyberdroid development.
Erik pushed the thought out of his head. Even if Tetsuo used Boomers, he
would have to swallow his hate in order to work with them. He couldn't
afford to be discovered like he had almost been last night. He hadn't been
counting on an ADP aerodyne being so close by.
Of course, if he hadn't have lost control, the cop might not have noticed
anything wrong. In any event, he would have to lay low for awhile.
He could figure out how to take GENOM later.
============================================================
Quincy stared out at the skyline of Mega-Tokyo through the
triple-reinforced glass that comprised the entire outer wall of his office.
Office?
Throne room, really. From here, he lorded over practically all he surveyed.
Soon, however, his hold would be absolute as it had been ordained.
Where are you, mutant? he mused as his eyes scanned the thousands upon
thousands of buildings dwarfed by the Tower. Two Boomers in two days, the
man was indeed impatient. Clever, yes, but impatient. All that time spent
evading search squads throughout Europe and Asia had definitely paid off,
but his good fortunes would not hold out forever.
Quincy briefly toyed with the idea of sending more Boomers to flush him
out. The cost of replacing them would be of no consequence.
No, that would only arouse undue suspicion within his ranks. No one, not
even his closest aides, knew of his true agendas. Besides, Quincy knew where
the mutant would eventually end up.
He will seek me out. He will seek me, and he will find his true destiny at
my right hand.
And then there was the matter of the Knight Sabers. Of Sylia Stingray...
Quincy's visage darkened, his gaze shifting to a glare that would melt
steel. That damnable Katsuhito had managed to slip that data unit past him,
molding his only daughter into the woman she was today. He had to have known
that his life would end with his usefulness, but Quincy hadn't forseen what
he had planned.
An oversight, he told himself, nothing more. He knew who they were, of
course, finding that out had been pitifully easy. Also, letting them run
free had been amusing as well as somewhat enlightening. The data gathered
from their fights had proven invaluable in recent Boomer designs. Their
usefulness, like Katsuhito Stingray's, was coming quickly to an end. Perhaps
it was time he finally dealt with them once and for all. They were becoming
far too annoying of late.
Quincy smiled again at the thought of them lying broken at his feet, of
Katsuhito's legacy crushed into the ground. His will would not be denied.
===================================
Well, that's another one! I hope you all like it. For those of you
following my other fics, I'm picking Jet Moto up again right after this hits
the list. It's about time I did some work on it.
Thanks!
Knight Writer