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==============================================

		Bubblegum Chromosome
		Chapter Four

==============================================

	It's gotta be here, Logan thought as he knelt before a
particular spot of pavement
in the filth-strewn alley. The faint breeze carried to him a plethora
of scents both enticing
and offensive. Ears strained to pick out particular noises from the
mass of sound that
assaulted them every minute of every day. Sometimes, he really hated
super-hearing.
	He eyed the blacktop more closely, cursing the fading light.
That little punk better
not have lied to him...
	There! He finally spotted it, the near-undetectable lines in
the asphalt that betrayed
the location of the trap door. Logan paid the man he was about to
visit a silent
compliment. This place was hard to spot in the best of conditions. For
anyone who didn't
know what to look for and where, it was impossible. But Logan wasn't
just anyone.
	He scanned the immediate area, finding the release he had been
told to look for.
He depressed the spot and the door popped open as if by magic. Logan
peered down the
darkened stairwell. His eyes quickly adjusted, showing nearly every
detail despite the lack
of light. After a quick check to make certain he was alone, Logan
descended the stairs.

	The stench was overpowering, an amalgam of unwashed flesh and
mech fluids that
was by far worse than the smell outside. Logan fought down his gag
reflex as he sorted
out the mass of odors.
	Boomers. Quite a few have been through there, with some more
still below. Stale
food; Chinese, burgers, and who knew what else. How many people?
	Several faded scents of other patrons littered the stairwell,
but only one was still
strong. That would be Genki. As Logan neared the bottom of the stairs,
Genki's stench
grew ever stronger and more repulsive. Old sweat, grease, and semen.
The informant
*did* say Genki was a pervert, after all.
	He stepped into the pale light, all senses on alert. Piles of
computer equipment lay
haphazardly on various scattered tables, yards of wire looped around
the concrete floor.
Deep patches of shadow occupied every corner, lending the space an
aura of techno-
gloom. He spotted the skeletal frame of a Boomer left to lean against
one wall, with
another more complete one on a flat table next to it. Wires ran from
the gaping hole in its
abdomen to several machines which displayed lines of programming code
he could
scarecely comprehend.
	He heard the footfalls long before he even saw Genki; heavy,
uneven. Labored
breathing, slight wheeze in the chest.
	"Do you have an appointment?" asked a snide, nasaly voice as
the man stepped
into the open. He was well beyond overweight, his distended gut
bulging well past what
was healthy. A stained orange sweater was stretched across his
ponderous torso, pants
coated with splotches of mech fluid and other substances. A mop of
limp hair hung down
over beady eyes which glared at Logan with suspicious contempt.
Typical loser.
	"I'm makin' one, fat boy."
	"Is that so?"
	"I hear you're quite the hacker." Logan betrayed no emotion,
gagueing the other's
responses and body language.
	"I might be. Whatcha looking for?"
	"Information. I was referred to you."
	"Well, then, you came to the right place." Genki's eyes
narrowed, avarice
practically beaming from them. "If your money's good."
	"Whadda you think?" Logan snarled as he pulled a wan of yen
from the pocket of
his jeans. Genki's eyes immediately locked on the roll of bills as he
waddled over through
arrays of scattered equipment.
	Logan released the bills just as Genki's hand snatched them
into their chubby grip.
He watched impassively as the fat bastard counted off the cash,
mumbling to himself.
	"I think... not."
	"Really?"
	"This is hardly what a man of *my* talents is accustomed to."
Logan immediately
wanted to wipe the snotty grin off Genki's face.
	Careful, Logan, he warned himself. Don't lose it.
	"You know," he began as he strode around the room, "I
understand that recycling
Boomers ain't somethin' the ADP smiles on."
	"I don't recycle them." The indignation in Genki's voice was
almost enough to
make Logan laugh. Almost.
	"Really?" he asked as he came up alongside the Boomer which
was hooked up to
the monitor systems. "Then ya just got a Frankenstien fetish?" Ah.
Logan could hear
Genki's heart beating faster, his breathing becoming tighter. He had
the little fuck.
	"I don't have the facilities to recycle Boomers..."
	"ADP don't look too kind on black market repair jobs, either."
Logan's eyes
narrowed, easily anticipating the path the latter's left hand was
about to take. Genki
must've thought he had an ace up his sleeve.
	"If you're trying to threaten me, you'll have to do better
than that." Logan's legs
0tensed, anticipating the time to spring.
	A soft click, and then the sounds of circuitry flaring to
life. Oiled servos whirred as
hydraulics moved inside the Boomer behind him.
	Okay, he thought, time to play hardball.
	Logan was used to the pain. He scarecely acknowledged it when
the adamantium
claws pierced the flesh of his hands as they had hundreds of times
before.
	With a growl, Logan spun on the rising Boomer. A flash of
metal heralded the
strike which severed its head. Another strike destroyed the secondary
AI in its chest, while
a third separated the torso from the legs. Logan stood amidst the
shower of sparks and
reeking mech fluids as the remains of the former cyberdroid spasmed
from errant jolts of
electrity before being stilled forever.
	"Ho... ly... shit!"
	He could smell the fear that came off of Genki in waves. It
called to his more feral
nature, sensing a kill to be imminent. Logan fought down the urge, the
way he had
learned... when? He dismissed the thought. All that mattered was
keeping the fat little
punk alive long enough to get what he wanted.
	"You're enhanced!"
	"Yeah," Logan snarled, "that's one word for it."
	"Oh... my..."
	"Don't *even* try it!" Genki stopped in mid-step, terror
frozen on his round face.
"This little scrape was all *your* fault, bub, not mine."
	"What do you want from me?!"
	"Already told ya. Information."
	"And if I refuse?" He was trying to repair his tattered
courage, at least enough to
try and run.
	"I'll find somebody else," Logan whispered dangerously, "after
I give you some of
what I gave your Boomer friend."

	Logan stood behind Genki, the latter seated before the
terminal situated in what he
had called his office. The stink of unwashed man was thick in the air,
tempting his gorge
to rise to the occaision.
	His eyes floated across several posters of nude and mostly
nude women, each
bearing looks of feigned pleasure. A few of them bore women of ink and
paint done in the
anime style, unclothed and in rather compromising positions.
	Somehow, Logan doubted Genki had gotten those from the local
video store.
	"Okay," the latter said, "what do you want?"
	"I want an address, for a woman named Madigan."
	"That's not telling me much," Genki snapped. "Your mystery
lady have a first
name?"
	"I got a picture." Logan retracted the claws on his right hand
before reacing into
his coat for the picture he had carried for years. They were standing
in front of a
restaurant; where, he couldn't recall, her arm in his. The small smile
lit her eyes, short
lavender hair hanging just past her shoulders. They had to have been a
couple, he and
Madigan, but the very sight of her image brought vague sensations
of... what? Loss?
Sadness? No, betrayal.
	"Well?" Genki whined impetuously. "You gonna hand it over, or
what?" Logan
gave him the picture, and immediately noted the change in the other's
demeanor.
	"She a friend of yours?"
	"Somethin' like that." Genki knew who she was, Logan could
easily see that.
Maybe he could get some answers tonight, after all. "What do you know
about her?"
	"Nothin," Genki replied too quickly.
	"Bullshit! You know who she is, an'..."
	"And I'm gonna tell you unless I want to become shish kabob.
Really, you are too
predictable." Logan merely growled in reply, holding his claws ready
for emphasis. Genki's
eyes fell on them, recalling how they had ripped through Boomer alloys
like a hot knife
through butter.
	"Her name's Madigan."
	"I know that much, dumbass. I told ya that part."
	"But, you don't know what she does."
	"Out with it, round boy!" Logan was coming dangerously close
to losing what
little patience he had left. Genki cast his smug gaze into Logan's
smoldering eyes, and
immediately flinced.
	"She works for GENOM. In fact, she's one of Quincy's top guns.
He's the CEO,
FYI."
	"I hate acronyms."
	"It means For Your Information. Really, everyone knows that."
	"Can it. Where do I find her?"
	"I can get you an address, and that's about it."
	"Do it."
	Genki returned to work, having given the picture back to
Logan. Chubby fingers
flew over the keyboard with an agility that ill fit his cumbersome
frame. Within minutes, a
printer screeched to life and spewed out a small block of text on a
sheet of paper.
	"This is it," Genki said as he handed it to Logan.
	"It better be. If it ain't..."
	"You're gonna pay me another visit," Genki finished, "and it
won't be a social call."
	"Smart man."
	"The address is genuine. I don't have any reason to gyp you on
this."
	Genki watched as Logan left his lab, the fear on his face
shifting to righteous
indignation. That little gaijin savage had the balls to come into
*his* lab, wreck *his*
equipment, and threaten *his* life! If he hadn't been enhanced...
	He waddled over to the ruined Boomer, cursing as he beheld the
damage. The
repairs had been tricky before. Now, however, there was no chance.
This was gonna cost
him a pretty yen.
	"The last laugh's mine, Logan," Genki snarled. "You just try
to get close to
someone like Madigan. Those claws won't help against the firepower she
has." Genki
almost wished he could be there to see her rip his ugly head from his
shoulders.
	He stood in thought for a moment before accessing his security
logs. Someone
wanted to get up close and personal with a top GENOM executive. This
was information
that could bring him a tidy profit once sent through the proper
channels. Genki
downloaded the logs and attached them to an email to which he sent to
an old
acquaintance of his. He didn't know why Fargo wanted intel on GENOM
activities so
badly, nor did he want to find out. So long as the money was good, he
would ask no
questions.

=================================================

	"Nene, I'm glad I caught you."
	"What's up, Priss?" Nene eased herself onto the sofa, her free
hand busily
massaging the soreness out of one of her feet.
	"I need a favor."
	"Another speeding ticket?" Nene was getting tired of cleansing
Priss's driving
record. This was gonna cost her. Steak, potatoes, salad, glass of
wine... her stomach
began to rumble in anticipation.
	"Nope. I need a babysitter."
	"Oh... WHAT?!" Nene could have sworn that the world had
suddenly stopped
turning. "Priss! When did you..."
	"It's nothing like that!"
	"Really?"
	"Listen," Priss's voice growled over the connection, "you
remember Sho?"
	"Yeah, as a matter of fact." Nene recalled how GENOM had
levelled the building
Sho's mother had ran into.
	"Well, he's staying with me, now."
	"He is? Priss, are you trying to adopt him?!" Nene squealed.
The line was silent for
a few moments before Priss answered.
	"I just need you to keep him until tomorrow morning. The band
has a concert
tonight, and I don't want Sho in that kind of place."
	"I don't blame you. So, why is Sho staying with you, anyway?"
	"I'll explain when I go to pick him up. Are you gonna do it?"
	"Well..." Nene thought for a moment. She didn't have any plans
for tonight. She
never had plans for any night, really. Most of her down time consisted
of her curling up
with a cheap romance novel and her imagination. It would be nice to
have some company.
Besides, she had some neat computer games she could let him play.
"Okay."
	"Great!"
	"This is gonna cost you, Priss."
	"Ragu Steakhouse?"
	"You just said the magic words," Nene smirked. "When are you
bringing him?"
	"In an hour. Hey, Nene, Sho's a little skiddish, so..."
	"Don't worry. I'm great with kids!"
	"See you in an hour."

	Priss hung up, breathing a short sigh of relief. She checked
her bag, a black nylon
gymbag which contained her costume. The guitar was held in its sturdy
case, which would
be strapped to her back.
	"Priss," Sho said from behind her. "Thanks again for the
clothes."
	"Hey, no problem, Sho," she replied with a warm smile. The
simple jeans and
sweater fit him pretty well, and were by far better than the tattered
rags he had shown up
in.
	"Where are you going?"
	"My band has a concert tonight." Okay, time to build up to the
news...
	"Am I going?"
	"I'm sorry, Sho, but I can't take you to a place like this."
She knelt in front of him
and placed her hands on his thin shoulders. This kid was gonna have to
pick up some
weight soon...
	"Not a place for kids, huh?" he asked dejectedly. "I
understand."
	"Hey, you're not gonna spend the night alone," Priss said
cheerfully. "I asked a
friend of mine to look after you tonight."
	"You... did?" Priss flinched at the frightened look that
crossed Sho's face.
	"Well, I can't leave you here all alone, can I?"
	"I can take care of myself."
	"I know that, but I don't feel right leaving you here by
yourself."
	"I... guess so."
	"Hey, you're gonna like Nene."
	"If you say so." Priss felt the knife twist in her heart from
seeing Sho so saddend.
	"Hey, I'm gonna get you back in the morning. Think of it like
a sleepover."
	"You promise you'll come?"
	"I promise." Priss started when Sho reached out to grab one of
her pinkys with his
own.
	"It's a promise, now and forever, can't be broken, nope not
never," Sho said with
an innocent grin. Priss forced a smile, inwardly uncomfortable with
the gesture. It was
easier when she only saw him every now and then. This was going to be
harder than she
thought.
	"C'mon, kid, we gotta get moving."

=================================================

	Logan cast a furtive glance around the assembled patrons of
the bar, most of them
stinking drunk and itching for a fight. The air was already filling
with cigarette smoke and
vulgar shouts as sloshed thugs jostled and fought for reasons even he
couldn't understand.
	He spared a look at the band behind the fence, some local
group called The
Replicants. Logan had heard they were good. Too bad he wouldn't have
time to listen. His
eyes fell on a well-toned girl in a blonde fright wig, gotta be the
singer. He'd also heard
she had a habit of vanishing during sets off and on.
	Oh, well, it ain't my problem.

	Priss stared out at the growing mob from behind a secure
titanium chainlink fence.
She strummed out a chord, checking it against the sounds of the other
instruments. They
still had a few minutes before their first set, more than enough for a
final sound check.
Music was one of her outlets, but customers wouldn't pay to see a band
that sounded
crappy.
	"Everything's good, Priss," the drummer said. "Just give us
the cue."
	Priss nodded half-heartedly, mind returning to thoughts of
Sho. More to the point,
why he ran away from the orphanage. She would have to find out why,
and soon. Much as
she wanted to deny it, she knew she couldn't keep him forever nor
could she just ignore
what had driven him to her place that night. What had him so scared?

===========================================

	"Is it good?" Nene asked as Sho dove into the pizza she had
ordered. The boy
nodded in reply, his mouth too full of cheese and bread to speak. Nene
smiled at him as
she took a more dainty bite of her own slice. Twin bottles of coke sat
between them, the
box taking up a good deal of the small table space.
	"Thanks, Ms. Romanova."
	"You're welcome. And call me Nene. All my friends do."
	"Okay, Nene." Sho grinned a little at that and took another
huge bite of pizza.
	"So, you live with Priss?"
	"Yeah. I like her."
	"I know she used to take care of you."
	"Before mom died," Sho replied with downcast eyes. "After
that, Priss put me in
that orphanage."
	"I know. Priss and I are friends, you know. She told me."
	"I hate that place." Nene stopped chewing for a moment, taken
aback at the venom
in Sho's voice.
	"Aw, c'mon," she said with slightly forced cheer. "It couldn't
have been that bad."
	"You don't know what it's like when everyone hates you."
	Nene didn't know how to reply. Her third slice of pizza hung
halfway to her lips,
blue eyes fixed solely on the boy across the table.
	"They don't hate you," she said softly.
	"Yes, they do." Tears were beginning to well in Sho's eyes,
his voice growing
tighter with each word. "They're afraid of me, so they hate me, too."
	"Why are they afraid?"
	"I don't wanna talk about it."
	"Okay, we won't." Nene put the pizza down, her appetite
suddenly taking leave of
her. "Say, wanna play a video game? I got some real cool ones on my
computer."
	"Yeah. I'd like that."
	"Then let's go!" Nene closed the pizza box and trod out of the
kitchen with Sho
tailing behind. As she went to boot up her system, Nene swore she'd
get a good
explanation from Priss. Over a huge steak, too.

==================================================

	"Can anyone take this animal?!" the emcee's voice screamed.
Priss watched as the
one they called the Wolverine went back to his corner, two burly bald
types dragging the
fourth unconscious man out of the cage in so many minutes. He took
another slug of
whiskey and leaned his head against one of the steel beams that ran
the length of the cage.
	"That's his fifth shot, and he's still walking straight," one
of her band said into her
ear. "The guy can hold his booze."
	"He can take a beating, too," another said over the din. Priss
had been watching
between songs, noting the way he moved. Most men in fight bars like
this fought like
beasts, fists and feet swinging wildly. They were the types who
thought a fight was just
pressing flesh, and whoever had the most won. Wolverine, whatever his
real name was,
seemed to know that strategy and technique counted for something.
	"For the fifth night, no man has entered the cage and come out
a winner! Let's
have someone end his streak! Come on up and fight this beast!"
	Another jumped up and entered the ring. He left soon after,
the same as the other
four before him.

	Logan scarcely heard the band kick up another song as he
retreated to his corner.
The crowd was booing him even worse than they had last night, and he
really couldn't
blame them. He had taken a shitload of their money.
	Only a matter of time before one gets enough balls to take it
back, Logan thought.
Just hope I don't have to hurt him too bad. He spared a glance at the
blonde chick, that
Priss. He knew she was checking him out, almost studying how he
fought. From the looks
of her, Logan could tell she was used to fighting.
	Ain't my problem, he thought while the emcee shouted for
another challenger.
Hell, if I stay here much longer, I'll end up cleaning this bar out.
Might raise the property
value a little.

======================================

	Nene fished two more cokes out of the refridgerator, the
sounds of Sho blasting
alien invaders on a computer screen coming from the foyer. She had to
admit, the kid was
sweet enough, but something was bothering him. Something very bad.
Priss had told her
he was skiddish, but had given no clue as to anything like this.
	I wonder what's going on with him? she thought as she closed
the door. The
scream came soon after, Sho's shrill voice filled with intense agony
as it reverberated in
her ears. Nene's blood ran cold as she dropped the sodas and ran to
where she had left
him.
	"SHO!" He lay curled into a ball, hands clutching his head in
a white knuckled
grip. Tremors ripped through his slight frame while an inhuman screech
ripped itself from
his open mouth.
	"HURTS!..." Nene knelt beside him, panic nearly overwhelming
her. What was
wrong with him?! First things first, call 911. Get him to a hospital
*fast*.
	Nene took two steps before it hit. An invisible wall of force
punched into her gut
like a battering ram. Stars dotted her vision as pain radiated from
her abdomen. She barely
registered the sound of cracking plaster as her back hit the wall.
	"Wha... What... the...?" She stared in slack-jawed shock at
the screaming boy.
What had just...
	Another blast of unseen force punched her through the wall.
Agony washed over
her nerves in a crimson tide of pain as she landed in a heap on the
floor. Nene pulled
herself up, horror fighting the pain and allowing her to stand. And
then the furniture began
to move.
	Nene dodged a flying lamp, its shade nicking her shoulder. A
table flew just over
her head to smash into a nearby wall while a chair clipped her leg and
spilled her to the
floor once again. Nene scarcely had time to let out a yell before
being picked up and
tossed through the thin partition that separated the living room from
the kitchen. She
rebounded off the wall, rolling over the stove to collapse in a
boneless heap on the floor.
	Gotta... get... out... Nene's terror-fueled adrenal glands
made her get up once more
just as the drawers opened and the knives began to fly free.
	She tried to dodge around the streaking blades, several
managing to leave cuts into
her pale flesh. Her eyes spotted Sho, standing in the living room's
chaos with his hands still
grasping his head while everything flew around them.
	"Sho! Stop!" Another knife left a deep cut in her side, warm
blood spilling from
the wound to stain her clothes. "PLEASE!" Nene staggered to the door,
praying for an
escape when she saw the couch lift itself off the floor.
	She was far too late in reacting, merely raising her arms as
the sofa slammed her
into the wall and everything went black...

	Sylia took another sip of tea, forcing the problems of the
past week out of her
mind. Constantly thinking about them served no purpose save driving
her mad. She had to
take a break, gain some distance so she could look at things more
objectively.
	"Hey, sis," Mackie said, "I'm picking up some weird messages."
	"Oh?" Looked like this wouldn't be a quiet night after all.
	"Tokyo PD just got an assault call."
	"What's so unusual about that?" Sylia watched as Mackie's face
took on a puzzled
look.
	"ADPolice is also responding."
	"Another Boomer?" That would be all they needed.
	"No," Mackie replied. "From what I can tell, the attack was on
an ADP officer."
	"Is that so?" Sylia studied her younger brother closely, dread
kinking her
intestines. She did not like what was being implied.
	"I'm getting an address... Oh, Lord..."
	"What?" Sylia had a feeling she already knew the answer, and
felt her nerves turn
to ice.
	"It's Nene's apartment." Sylia felt her heart shatter at the
news. "From what I can
tell, she's hurt pretty bad, too."
	"Good God..."
	"The scene's already secured. I'm switching to EMT band. If
anything else
happens, we'll know it."
	Sylia tuned him out as she moved to contact the other Knight
Sabers. An attack on
Nene could mean several things. More importantly, the others would
want to know. She
only hoped she could control the lust for payback they would all
desperately want.
	"Call Linna. Tell her to get over there, now."

==============================================

	Priss dialed the number, pleasantly tired from her last set.
The crowd had more or
less behaved themselves, not storming the fence while she sang and
gyrated her body.
They were more interested in sending people to fight the Wolverine.
	"What's up, Linna?"
	"Priss, there's been an attack."
	Priss's eyes narrowed at the former's words, and then their
tone hit her.
	"Nene's been badly hurt."
	"WHAT?!" A rogue Boomer had attacked Nene!
	"Oh, God, SHO!"
	"Huh?"
	"I left Sho with her!" Fear, unlike any she had ever known,
seized Priss's heart and
held it in icy talons.
	"Priss, Sylia told me the ADP haven't found anything about
Sho. He's not there."
	Priss felt the world fall around her ears, horror clouding her
senses as Sylia's words
replayed themselves over and over. Haven't found anything about Sho...
Haven't found...
	"Sho... Nene..."
	"If he's been kidnapped, we *will* find him."
	"SHO!" Priss slammed the reciever down into its cradle and
raced for her bike, still
in costume.

	"Priss? Priss!" Linna hung up, silently cursing the other
woman's hot temper. She
couldn't blame her, though. Linna gunned her car's engine, weaving in
and out of traffic as
horns blared in the night. She only hoped she could make it to Nene's
apatment complex
before Priss did. God only knew what would happen if she didn't.

=============================

	"Well, Leon, what do you think?"
	"A Boomer. Had to be." Leon stared around the ruins of what
had once been Nene
Romanova's apartment. The walls were festooned with cracks, a few
sporting gaping
holes. Remains of furniture lay scattered on the floor, stuffing from
cushions coating the
carpet.
	"Nene lets someone in, turns out it's a Boomer, and her place
gets wrecked," Daley
said. "But, something just doesn't seem right."
	"She was found over here." Leon stepped cautiously over to the
corner where she
had been found pinned to the wall with the sofa. "From what I hear,
she's in pretty bad
shape."
	"Too early to tell, Leon. By now the paramedics have just
gotten her to the ER."
	"Why would a Boomer be after Nene Romanova?" It just didn't
make any sense.
	"Who knows? I know a human couldn't have done all this," Daley
replied as he
waved his arm around the room. "Not even an enhanced human could."
	"Daley, this town keeps getting stranger and stranger."
	"Hey!" shouted a muffled voice from the hall. "How the hell'd
you get up here?"
	"Where is he?!"
	"Priss?" Leon charged out to the source of the commotion,
finding Priss Asagiri
tangling with an ADP patrolman.
	"Let me through!"
	"Enough!" Leon strode up to Priss, his confusion being
replaced by annoyance.
"What brings you by, Priss?" The miniskirt and halter top hugged her
curves intimately,
auburn hair tangled and matted from the ride without a helmet.
	"Outta my way, Leon!"
	"Now what's got you so worked up?"
	"Where's Sho? What happened to Nene?"
	"Who?" Daley asked, scratching his head.
	"Listen, I think you should come with me."
	"Damnit, Leon..."
	"Come *on*, Priss," he snarled, steering her to the stairwell.

	Leon shut the door behind them, glaring Priss and crossing his
arms across his
chest. The latter whirled and shot him a withering glare, fists balled
up and lips drawn into
a tight line.
	"Okay, first off, *what* are you doing here?"
	"That's none of your damn business!" Leon gritted his teeth,
already tired and
irritable from having gotten only six hours of sleep out of the past
seventy-two.
	"Listen up, Priss!" Leon screamed. His voice ricocheted off
the concrete walls of
the stairwell like a gunshot. "I don't have time for your attitude
now! I got a friend in an
ER who shouldn't be there, and a missing Boomer that's responsible!"
	"I..." The rage in Leon's words lanced the haze of fear that
had clouded Priss's
mind.
	"For the last time, *what* are you doing here?!"
	"I heard over a scanner that a Boomer had attacked."
	"So, you know Nene Romanova?"
	"Yeah."
	"Now we're getting somewhere. Next question; who's Sho?"
	"Sho's... a friend of mine. He was staying here for the
night."
	"He's not here now. He might be responsible."
	"NO! He's just a kid..." Too late, Priss realized just what
she had said.
	"Really?" Leon did not like this one bit. "Priss, I want you
to come to ADP
headquarters with me."
	"What?!"
	"Priss, I told you I don't have time for this! If this Sho
kid's been abducted, I need
to know everything you can tell me about him, got that?"
	Priss evaluated her options, realizing that she didn't have
many. Either she went
with Leon willingly, or she went in handcuffs. Any doubts she had
about him arresting her
vanished when she looked into his eyes and beheld the anger that
burned within them.
Leon really meant it this time.
	"Fine. I'll go. But this better be over quick!"
	"I'll go as fast as I can."

====================================================

Bubblegum Crisis is used without permission
X-Men is used without permission.
All C&C is welcome
Email me for previous chapters

===========================================
	Bubblegum Chromosome
	Chapter Five
===========================================

	Linna had seen the flashing lights of the cruisers from a
block away. She felt
disconnected, as if her hands were steering the car of their own
accord and dragging her
brain along for the ride. Someone had hurt Nene, busted into her
apartment and maybe...
Linna closed off any thoughts leading down that path. 
	Priss had left a little boy in her care for the night, and now
he was missing. Maybe
someone was after him? Who? Why?
	Linna pulled to a stop just outside the ring of patrol cars
parked outside the
building. Crowds of gawkers shifted around the police barricade, stoic
police officers
standing guard to ensure that nobody got through. Strobes from camera
flashes lit up the
night in sporadic patterns with the rotating reds and blues from the
lightbars on the
patrolcars.
	Standard police and ADPolice? she thought as she waited for
the cop in the orange
vest to wave her lane of traffic through. There wasn't an ambulance in
sight, which gave
Linna a strange sense of relief. Nene was already on her way to a
hospital, was probably
there by now. Sylia would find out which one, no problem.
	Linna's eyes locked on two figures exiting the building, and
she bit back a curse.
Leon McNichol was striding down the steps, with a very incensed Priss
Asagiri beside
him. Oh, this was not good at all... She still wore her stage outfit,
she must have charged
straight here after the call. Linna tracked them to a waiting ADP
cruiser and watched as
both climbed in.
	She's not in handcuffs, Linna thought. She's not under arrest,
then. But why would
Leon be taking her off like this?
	Linna knew why. Priss, in her ususal not-so-subtle manner, had
busted in onto the
scene. He was likely taking her for questioning. Linna picked up her
digital phone,
pressing the button which had Sylia's number programmed to it.

	Sylia picked up on the first ring, inwardly anxious for
Linna's report.
	"Bad news, Sylia." Her heart immediately sank at those two
words and she had to
struggle to keep her voice steady.
	"What is it?"
	"Priss beat me to Nene's apartment." Sylia barely cut off the
curse that tried to pass
her lips.
	"You called her?"
	"Yeah. I thought she'd want to know. I tried to tell her to
wait for me, but she
started talking about someone named Sho and hung up."
	"Sho? Was he there?"
	"You know him? Hey, is he that kid from the orphanage?"
	"The same," Sylia replied.
	"Anyway, Priss said she had left him with Nene for the night."
	"Where is Priss now?"
	"Well, I don't think she's been arrested..."
	"Excuse me?" The last thing she needed was to have one of her
number behind
bars.
	"I saw her get into a cruiser with Leon. They left a few
seconds ago. She wasn't
cuffed, so I think she went willingly."
	"Hmm." Questioning, most likely. Sylia could almost picture
the scenario. "Linna,
I want you to wait outside ADP Headquarters. When Priss comes out,
take her home with
you."
	"Sylia?"
	"I don't want Priss tearing around town, especially in the
state she's likely to be in.
Get her to your apartment and keep her there."
	"I'll try. You know how Priss is."
	"Yes, I do." Sylia cut off the connection feeling as if she
had just chewed on tinfoil.
	"Sis?"
	"Mackie, could you leave me alone for a moment? I need to
think."
	"Sure thing, Sylia."
	She heard Mackie exit the room from the north door, the one
that led to the
bathing area. Sylia slumped down into a handy chair, struggling to
place her whirling
thoughts back in order.
	Damnit, Priss, she swore. How many times have I told you not
to rush headlong
into anything?
	Focus. What is going on, here?
	Nene Romanova has been attacked. Why?
	Priss had left Sho in her care for the night. Could it be that
whomever was
responsible had been after him? She had to admit, it was very possible
and it put an ugly
spin on things. If Nene had been the target, she wouldn't be alive
right now. Nonetheless,
they all had to be careful.
	With Nene out of action, gaining access to ADP files would be
much trickier. As
the younger woman was fond of pointing out, tapping into ADP's
datafiles from outside
the system was damn near impossible. The best way was to do it from
the inside. And
since this attack was on one of their officers, they would be all over
it. No matter which
branch they worked in, police did protect their own.
	Sylia stared out into the night, seeing only a city that
stubbornly refused to make
sense any more.

============================================

	"Can you think of anything else?" The question, asked for what
seemed like the
hundredth time, threatened to send Priss over the edge. She glared
across the table at
Leon, who sat with his hands folded in front of him.
	"I've already told you, no. Now, unless you want to book me,
I'm gone."
	"Fine." Priss rose from the metal chair and stormed toward the
door. It had been
exhausting, giving half-answers to Leon's questions for well over an
hour. It was bad
enough that Leon pretty much knew she was a Knight Saber. She only
hoped she hadn't
implicated Nene as well.
	"Priss." Leon's voice brought her up short, hand resting on
the knob.
	"What?" she asked without turning around.
	"This is a matter for the ADPolice. We'll handle it, got
that?"
	"I don't know what you're talking about." Priss let the door
bang shut behind her.

	Leon remained in the interrogation room, a cigarette pursed
between his lips. Priss
knew what he was talking about, all right. She knew it damn good and
well. She was one
of them. He didn't have any proof, which suited him fine. He
personally didn't want to see
the Knight Sabers compromised like that.
	He'd had no idea she and Nene Romanova knew each other. It
really was a small
world. However, it also brought up new and disturbing trains of
thought.
	Priss is a Knight Saber. Priss and Nene are friends. Could
Nene be a Knight Saber
as well? Leon doubted it. He just couldn't picture Nene in one of
those suits.
	But who said she had to actually *be* a Knight Saber? That
question loomed in his
mind, dredging up other possibilities. They always seemed to know just
when a Boomer
had gone rogue, just when the ADP was having trouble with one.
	That doesn't prove anything, he thought, except that they have
a police scanner.
Given what he'd seen of their technology, it wasn't surprising.
	But, Leon had been shown the doors. All he needed was to find
the keys.

	Priss stepped out into the night, feeling drained and
exhausted. In the space of a
few lousy hours, the world had turned upside down and ripped itself in
half.
	Priss had felt like that only once before, after losing
Sylvie. Finding her piloting the
DD, learning that her friend was in fact a Boomer, and facing her own
hatred for them had
shaken her entire view.
	Now, she was looking at all that again. New play, new players,
but same story.
Sometimes she really hated her life.
	"Priss! Over here!" She looked up to see Linna standing beside
her car and waving
furiously at her. Priss looked at her dumbly for a second before
walking over.
	"How'd you get here?"
	"I saw you get into Leon's car. I just figured you'd end up
here."
	"Any word on Nene?"
	"Nothing," Linna said softly. "Get in."
	The interior of the car was a good deal warmer than the night
air, yet Priss still felt
cold. Sho's face kept appearing in her vision, calling to her from
somewhere distant. What
if he was hurt? What if...
	"We'll find who did this," Linna whispered.
	"I gotta find Sho."
	"No."
	"Huh?!" Priss looked at Linna as if she had never seen her
before.
	"You don't need to be roaring around town in your condition.
I'm taking you back
to my place."
	"Sho's out there!"
	"Listen to me, will you, Priss?! You won't do Sho any good by
racing all over
Mega Tokyo!" Priss fell silent, staring out through the windshield at
nothing. "I have some
clothes in back. We'll talk to Sylia tomorrow morning."

========================================

	Madigan stepped out of the shower. Her hair was plastered to
her head from the
jets of hot water, tiny rivulets running down her body to drip onto
the floor. She breathed
in the steam, wiping condensation off the small vanity with a spare
washcloth.
	The comb ran through the thin strands of her lavender hair.
Madigan often found
such repetitive movements calming, welcome after a long day. Her home
was her
sanctuary, a place away from the madness of her position in GENOM.
Those beneath her
knew how she disliked being disturbed at home. One thing they did not
want was to upset
her.

	Logan waited in the darkness, scarcely daring to breathe as he
sat coiled and ready
to spring. He could smell the Boomers which stood guard outside the
apartment amidst
the scents of jasmine and eucalyptus. At least two Boomers were by the
doors and who
knew how many throughout the hall. Genki hadn't mentioned anything
about Boomers, yet
Logan should have expected it. If Madigan really was so high up in
GENOM, then it
stood to reason she would have bodyguards.
	Getting in had proven rather easy. The claws had allowed him
to scale much of the
outside surface, thus evading any security forces. After that,
disabling the alarms had taken
him only a few seconds.
	He heard the shower cut out, muted through the thick walls of
the apartment. Just
a few more minutes, and he would get some answers. No matter what it
took.

	Kathrine Madigan padded into her darkened bedchamber,
gooseflesh raising on her
exposed skin from the drop in temerature. She needed some sleep, and
badly. Repairing
the damage that maniac Largo had done to GENOM operations required her
full attention,
causing several projects to be placed on indefinite hold.
	Though she'd never admit it, Largo had frightened her to no
end. To think that a
Boomer could gain that much power was unnerving. In the darkest hours
of night, it made
her wonder if GENOM really knew what it was doing when it came to
cyberdroids.
	"Kathrine Madigan." The rough hand clamped down over her mouth
before her
startled scream could escape. Another materialized from the darkness,
twisting one arm
behind her while a sudden rush of weight shoved her back into the bed.
	"I don't want you callin' yer Boomer friends outside." That
voice! It was
maddeningly familiar. Where had she heard it before? The lights came
on, and cold terror
splashed across her flesh. It couldn't be!
	"Remember me?" Pinned as she was, Madigan could only nod her
head. How had
he found her? How had he survived?
	"Good," he growled. "I'm gonna take my hand off. You ain't
gonna scream, got
that?"

	Logan hated himself for this. He'd never, he hoped, done
anything like this to a
woman before, and felt lower than pond scum. But, this woman held the
keys to his past.
Despite how he felt, he wouldn't let this slip through his fingers.
	"L... Logan?"
	"That's me. Been lookin' for ya, Kathrine."
	"How... How did you..."
	"Never mind," he replied as he got up. Madigan immediately
began to call for the
Boomers outside. She barely got her mouth open before the claws were
unsheathed and
ready.

	Madigan's cry for help died on her lips. Her mouth hung agape
as she beheld the
adamantium blades that protruded from Logan's hands. They were likely
the last samples
in existence. And she knew well the damage they could cause.
	"Look familiar?" She could only nod dumbly.
	"What do you want, Logan?"
	"Answers."
	"Really?" she replied, calling on everything she knew about
him. "You sure it isn't
something... else?" She let the towel slip a little, exposing the tops
of her breasts. She only
hoped it would still work...
	"Don't even try it, Kathrine."
	"I've been hoping you were still alive."
	"What did you do to me?!"
	"I... what are you talking about?" Madigan strained to keep
her voice innocent and
terrified. She knew exactly what had been done to him.
	"Don't play dumb with me, Madigan," Logan growled. His eyes
blazed, nostrils
flared and breath heavy. She knew the signs well. Logan was on the
verge of losing it
completely. A hard lump formed in her throat at the prospect. She had
seen his devastating
berzerker rages before. The memories still haunted her nightmares from
time to time.

	Through the haze of fury that tried to settle over his mind,
Logan heard the front
door slam open and twin sets of heavy footfalls racing toward him.
Damnit, those
Boomers had heard him!
	The rage vanished, replaced with icy calm. They were probably
top of the line and
capable of a whole lot of hurt. He couldn't afford to get reckless.
	The first one burst through the bedroom door, shattering the
wooden obstacle into
so many toothpicks. Logan didn't hesitate for a second, sinking his
claws deep into the
Boomer's chest and abdomen before it could burst out of its synthflesh
coating and into
full battle mode. He finished with a double kick that propelled the
Boomer backward.
	No room to fight, here. Gotta get out. Logan lunged through
the window, three
more Boomers directly behind him.
	The wind tore at his flesh as the pavement raced up to meet
him. Too fast, he was
dropping too damn fast! His left arm lashed out and impaled the
building's face. The
friction slowed his descent when twin bolts of emerald energy lanced
past his head.
	"SHIT!" He had one chance. Logan kicked himself away from the
surface of the
apartment complex. A feeling of weightlessness overtook him for a
brief moment before
gravity returned to reclaim its due. He twisted in midair, his claws
ready. They sank into
the plascrete coating of the next building and the impact shook him to
the core.
	The roaring sound of small thrusters shot past, and Logan
began his climb.
Boomer thrusters weren't designed for sustained flight, but the bold
manouvre had bought
him only a few minutes tops. Once they landed, they would immediately
come back up
after him.

===============================================

	Linna picked up the digital car phone on the second ring,
shocked to hear Sylia's
voice at the other end.
	"Linna, we have a situation."
	"Boomer?" She saw Priss's eyes widen slightly, something she
couldn't quite
identify passing behind them.
	"Yes. Where is Priss?"
	"In the car with me." The line was silent for a moment.
	"Meet me at 98th and Ryugenzawa."
	"Got it."
	"Let me speak to Priss." Linna handed the phone to the other
girl, silently girding
herself for the fight to come.
	"Sylia?"
	"Priss, listen to me. You are not to suit up tonight."
	"What?! Sylia..."
	"No buts, Priss. In your condition..."
	"What condition? I can fight!"
	"I don't want to risk it."
	"It'll just be you and Linna against this Boomer! And..."
	"I am well aware that it may be the one who assaulted Nene and
kidnapped Sho. If
it is, we'll find out. Besides, Mackie will be fighting with us."
	"I don't like it."
	"I know, Priss, but there is no other way. You need time to
collect yourself before
you put your hardsuit on."
	"I'm..."
	"That's an order, Priss." She remained silent. The hard edge
in Sylia's voice told
her clearly that disobeying this order would not be a good idea. Not
this time.

===================================================

	Logan reached the roof mere seconds ahead of his cybernetic
pursuers. He couldn't
outrun three Boomers, no way. He had to fight. They landed with deep
thuds, roofing tile
cracking beneath their weight. BU-55C types, he realized. Light,
quick, and well armed.
	"Three to one odds," Logan grunted. "I've faced worse."
	"You got some brass ones, hairball," one of the Boomers
rumbled.
	"Even managed to take out one of us," said the one to his
right. "Not too shabby."
	"Thanks, bub. Get ready to join him!"
	Logan barely managed to sidestep the Boomer as it lunged past,
twin hooks slicing
the air inches from his face. His own claws swung in response, slicing
the Boomer's outer
armor easily. He spun to face all three, cursing that only the tips
had managed to connect.

	Kathrine Madigan glared at the image on her laptop's monitor,
relayed from the
optics of the lead BU-55C. Their sensor arrays detected the adamantium
within Logan's
body, each busily attempting to identify it.
	He's up against three state-of-the-art Boomers, she thought to
herself. No way he
can win.
	"This is Katherine Madigan," she said into the now-open comm
channel. "All
Boomers in the vicinity move to the following coordinates and restrain
this man." She sent
an image through the channel to any receiving Boomer. "Take him alive
if you can. This is
a priority-one order!"
	Logan... The secret you hold inside could propell GENOM to new
heights...

	"Enough fucking around," the lead Boomer growled. "Let's kill
him."
	"Wait," the second said. "Miss Madigan wants him alive."
	"If ya want me, ya overgrown toasters, come an' get me!" Logan
charged, an
animalistic roar erupting from his throat as he aimed for the
cyberdroid in the center. He
had taken it by surprise. The Boomer hadn't been expecting such a
move, launching a
punch that would have splattered his head, were his bones not fused
with the same metal
his claws were forged from.
	He ducked, the metal fist whistling past his ears, and his
claws severed the
appendage at the elbow. An uppercut left a trio of deep gashes in its
torso, sparks
showering from the wounds. Logan had no time to admire his handiwork,
rolling aside just
as the other two attacked. The badly wounded Boomer roared, its one
remaining arm
stretched over its torn body.
	A metal fist clipped his jaw, sending him off balance while a
kick to his back
sprawled him onto the rough surface of the roof. Logan focused past
the pain, finding the
calm center of himself as he sprung upright again. He didn't know how
advanced a 55C's
auto-repair system was, and didn't want to stick around to find out.
	He learned when the Boomer which had lost its arm picked it
back up and fused
with it again. Shit.

	"I see them," Mackie said as he piloted the Knightwing over
the towering spires of
Mega Tokyo. "Looks like three BU-55Cs and... one human?"
	"What in the world is he doing?" Sylia asked as she studied
the image. Twin sets of
gleaming claws stuck out from his fists, the smaller man staring down
the three
cyberdroids. "An enhanced human against three of GENOM's worst?"
	"I'm picking up severe damage to one of the Boomers." Sylia
watched as Mackie
shifted the image to the Boomer which held its one arm across its
chest. Several points
appeared on the image, indicating damage to internal systems. The
Boomer was running
on backup power, its main plant having been damaged beyond use.
	"Taking on three Boomers by himself?" Linna gasped from beside
her. 
	"Yeah," Priss agreed, still in stage attire. "He may not have
brains, but he's sure
got balls." She looked closer at the image. Something was familiar
about him...
	"Mackie," she said, "enhance the image of that guy's face."
	"Sure thing, Priss."
	"Someone you know?"
	"Maybe, Linna." A small corner of the monitor displayed the
man's face, and Priss
finally realized where she had seen him.
	"Damn, he's the guy from the club!"
	"What?"
	"Sylia, he was in the bar I was playing in earlier tonight.
They called him
Wolverine."
	"He was a fighter?" Linna asked with a trace of interest.
	"Yeah. Damn good one, too."
	The lead Boomer picked up its severed arm and reattached it.
Mech fluids spurted
into the air as the systems reconnected it.
	"They're fusion capable," Sylia cursed. "He's in trouble."
Another monitor flared to
life, tracking inbound movements. They were far too fast to be human,
or even aerodynes.
	"He's got more," Mackie said nervously. "I'm tracking four
more Boomers
incoming!"
	"ETA?"
	"Forty seconds. We'll be there in sixty."
	"Push it, Mackie," Sylia ordered. "He won't have a chance
against that many."
	"What are you talking about, Sylia?" Linna asked. "He doesn't
have a chance agaist
*those* three!"
	One of the Boomers lunged, launcing a punishing right cross
and left jab
combination. The man dodged with startling agility, his claws flashing
as they tore into the
55C's hide again and again. Sylia watched with her mouth slightly
agape at the ferocity of
his attack, which culminated with the Boomer's head joining its arms
and legs in a heap on
the roof.
	"Whoa..." Linna breathed as she watched him back off.
	"Impressive," Sylia whispered. "Linna, finish suiting up.
Mackie, set the
Knightwing on autopilot. We're going in." She cast a meaningful glance
at Priss, who
grasped the edge of the main survelliance panel in a white kuckled
grip. Sylia donned her
helmet and booted her hardsuit's systems.
	Something's wrong here, she thought to herself. She could see
plain as day that the
55C's were pulling their punches. Why?

	Logan panted deeply as the remaining two Boomers stood in
stunned amazement.
Or, at least, what passed for such with them. He knew they were busily
re-evaluating the
threat he posed, considering new options of attack that wouldn't end
with them joining the
scrap heap.
	Madigan wants me alive, he growled to himself. They won't kill
me. He charged
the leader, the one who was still struggling with the damage he had
done to it before.
They might not kill him, but that didn't make them any less dangerous.
Best to take out the
lame one first.
	The rooftop in front of him exploded in a burst of emerald
energy. The force
shoved Logan back, stars dancing in his vision as four other 55Cs
landed before him.
	"Tin cans called for backup, huh?" he snarled. "Bring it on!"
Logan braced himself
for the charge, knowing inwardly that his chances had just plummeted.
He wouldn't give
up. If these glorified toasters wanted him, they'd have to come get
him!
	"Surrender," one of them said.
	"You cannot win," another added.
	"Shove it."
	He scarcely heard the muted whir of engines overhead just
before one of the
Boomers went down in a heap.

	Sylia retracted her propulsion booms as she hit the roof.
Linna landed gently
beside her, and the roar of Mackie's jump jets hit last. She scanned
the Boomers, all 55Cs.
Six on three, the Knight Sabers had faced worse odds before.
	"Knight Sabers," she said, "it's showtime!" They moved like
death itself, the three
suited warroirs manuvering through the assembled Boomers. Sylia
readied her blade and
charged the foremost Boomer. Its mouth cannon came to bear, building a
charge just as
she fired her own weapon into the lens. The Boomer fell to the roof,
its head a smoldering
ruin of twisted metal.
	Mackie engaged his suit's booster systems and sent the massive
hunk of machinery
hurtling toward two Boomers. His auto bazooka roared, belching flame
and uranium shells
into the 55C's metal hides. He felt a light tap as Linna rebounded off
the containment pack
mounted on his hardsuit. He followed her vector toward the wounded
Boomer, and
grinned when her knuckle bomber detonated with its abdomen with enough
punch to blow
its insides apart.

	Who're these clowns? Logan thought as he dodged the one in
green. Whoever they
were, they were taking out Boomers like it was routine. The woman, at
least the armored
figure smelled like one, came up beside him.
	"Come on," she said. Yep, definitely a woman. "Get back. We'll
handle this."
	"An' let *you* have all the fun?" Logan paid her no more heed
as a blast lanced
between them. He rolled to the left, the green woman to the right. He
saw her recover
with amazing speed and release the ribbons from her helmet to slice
the offending Boomer
into confetti. Damn things are like these, he thought as he glanced at
his claws.
	Logan saw a Boomer latch onto the back of the larger suit, a
bright yellow
monster with what looked like an automatic bazooka in one hand.
Without hesitation, he
charged. Logan hated cheaters like that Boomer.

	"Sylia, I can't shake it!" Mackie's voice said in her ear.
	"Hang on, I'll knock..." Sylia saw the man, the one Priss had
called Wolverine,
attack the 55C which had latched onto Mackie's hardsuit with a
ferocity that suited his
name and visage well.
	Wolverine's claws shredded the Boomer's abotex armor coating
like paper. Its legs
went slack as they sliced the spinal cord, his claws raining hell onto
the prone Boomer.
Another strike severed its arms and sent it crashing down to the roof.
Mackie spun around
as fast as his suit was able, brought up one massive foot, and lowered
it onto the 55C's
head.
	"Thanks," Mackie said as Wolverine leapt off his back.
	"Don't sweat it kid..." The blast caught him completely off
guard. The energy burst
slammed into Wolverine's chest and sent him rocketing backward into a
solar panel. The
structure cracked under the force just before Wolverine tumbled to the
roof in a limp
heap.
	"Is he okay?" Linna asked as she demolished the Boomer which
had landed the
shot.
	"He's still breathing," Sylia replied.
	"Sylia, you got a problem!"
	"What is it, Priss?"
	"I'm scanning about ten more Boomers headed your way *fast*!"
	"Looks we've worn out our welcome," Linna said.
	"I agree. Mackie, bring the Knightwing down for pickup. It's
time we made
ourselves scarce." 

	Kate Madigan nearly hurled the laptop across the room as she
saw the Knight
Sabers take Logan aboard their plane and carry him into the night.
	"DAMN YOU!" Madigan's breath came ragged into her lungs, blood
singing with
rage. She remained rooted in place, not even noticing how the towel
had fallen to the
floor. They had just taken the absolute last samples of adamantium
alloy in the world, and
probably didn't even know it.
	Madigan finally managed to reign her temper back in. First
thing to do was to
connect with Chairman Quincy. Sometimes, she doubted the old man ever
slept.

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             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'