[FFML] [BGC] Frozen Butterfly Arc 2 chapters 2&3

[skychan]

Here are the next two chapters, considerably rougher than usual but my
regular initial draft pre-reader Turbolift Specialist 2nd Class Bear
Davidson hasn't had a chance to finish going over them yet.  As such I am
all ears for help on pacing, characterization and the rest.  There is
supurfluous information in here that will probably get cut but that made it
onto the page just to keep my own thought processes straight on why whats
happening is.

As ever C&C is welcome and desired and I don't own BGC.


Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 2.0 – Strengthening Wings

Emerging from the artificial light of the tunnel I could feel my spirit
soar.  Buoyed up with the wind I felt blowing through my shoulder length
hair.  A sudden giggle making its way past my lips as I realized I
something else in common with the humanity I had thought lost; my hair
obviously grew in stasis, much like a humans would in death.  Looking at my
short still perfectly proportioned nails I let out a sigh finding them no
longer than on my first rebirth, I guess I couldn't have everything.

Still, the sensation of the wind through my hair was divine.  I could go
anywhere, do anything I wanted, just so long as you could pay for it on
200,000 yen, and it didn't require international travel or a photo ID.  It
had taken a little work but I had managed to navigate my way to one of *my
master's* emergency caches.  Besides the money it had held two suits, one
fancy, the other sweats as well as a set of fake Identification, all
equally useless being for a 180cm man not a 152cm woman.  All of that I had
left in the locker, taking only the money and the black leather couriers
bag it had been held in.

Oh, and a pistol.  That last made me a bit nervous, and was currently
resting unloaded at the bottom rolled up in a men's dress shirt.  Nervous
or not my heart would still race whenever I contemplated being caught and
that was enough to make me decide to keep it despite all the drawbacks it
might have.

I'm not sure exactly what Flint was thinking.  He had to have put more than
roughly two thousand dollars into the rest of the stash, so why had he been
so stingy when it came to tucking away what I needed most, Money.  At least
he had three similar stashes and if I was quick they could all be mine
before he even finished work for the day.

And that’s just what I did.  Spending the rest of the day fluttering from
one stash of goodies to the next and ending up with a parcel of handguns,
several too large men's shirts a backpack, windbreaker, couriers bag and
briefcase.  Of course most of that was tucked away.  Dressed as fancy as I
was anything more than the briefcase and courier bag and apparent luggage
would have drawn more attention than I wanted.

So just about the time *master* would be expecting diner, I did feel a
little bad about letting him down, I had finished my collections and was
laying down 18,000 yen in cash for one night at a clean room in a business
class hotel far enough from the city center that they didn't ask for more
than a name for the books.

Careful with my suit, unsure how long I would have to make it last I took
it off and laid it out carefully on the bed.  It wasn't a serious concern
yet, but I could tell that if I neglected things I might be little better
than a tramp by the end of the week.

Stepping naked into the shower it struck me again, that feeling of unease,
the disassociation between self and self.  I shouldn't look this way, but
it was perfectly natural.  I hadn't done this before, everything was new
and yet I had taken hundreds of showers in my life.  The way water felt
running across my skin new the feeling of the warm spray novel on my flesh
but long hair just as much of a pain to shampoo and wash as I remembered.

It wasn't until I was drying myself in front of the mirror, vision fuzzy
without my glasses that I had to stop and sit down.  To catch my emotional
balance as the loss of my old body and its utter irretrievability sank in.
A lump in the depths of my stomach weighing me down as the towel, wrapped
high around my bust rather than low around my waist served as a simple but
undeniable reminder of my loss.

Stumbling to the main room and throwing myself onto the bed I lay back took
a deep breath and tried to relax.  I needed a distraction, something
familiar, something to prove I was still I and felt with senses that were
and weren't my own for the free wi-fi.  As I negotiated my way online I
realized it wasn't really quite as free as they said.  The normal paths
filled with some kind of worms and advertising software.   Ducking off the
common path I turned instead down a signal verification channel and out
into the web.

I drifted there, feelings a rollercoaster of high and low, contemplating
the vast digital panorama before me.  I didn't know where to go.  In fact I
didn't have to go anywhere, and I wasn’t beholden to anyone, *master,* but
nor did I have anyone to share my excitement with.  It suddenly felt very
desolate being me.

I began to track down friends; people I remembered from before.  It wasn't
too hard, even if I did begin to suffer noticeable lag when trolling sites
hosted on the far side of the globe.  It was odd, somehow having to tell
myself where to go before I got there, and knowing I had already moved
before seeing what I passed along the way.  Slowing up quickly I decided
that was an experience better forgotten, vertigo of the mind is extremely
disorienting.

Unfortunately what I found only made the loss worse.  They had moved on,
with families, new friends, only the sad lonely mention of my name lost in
ancient posts, or used fondly once in a blue moon on a facebook page.

I was alone.  It’s a terrible realization to have, and one I thankfully
realized was false as I almost tripped over a small message.  It was
stashed away in the bowels of one of the major transit nodes, along a path
chosen by random chance.

"Galatea, where are you, are you safe, I'm looking for you." PN.

I stared at that small line of text, tucked away in a small dark corner of
a server used to track ping requests.  The same kind of backdoor I had
shared with one other person.  I might have forgotten to breath for a
while, I don't know as in the rush of gratitude and relief I lost track of
the time.

It took some time but I found more discrete messages like that one as I
moved through the servers of Japan and Megatokyo.  Most of them were months
old, but they proved I existed and at least one other person still
cared.  There
were messages left in more obvious spots as well, and searches for Galatea
picked up a fair number of recent hits on several very technical bulletin
boards.

I'm not surprised that no one could answer PinkuNeko's questions, that no
one had seen me or even heard of me to offer up help but that’s alright.  I
had seen them, and the effort she, because what guy would use that for a
handle I ask you, had gone through to find me was heartening.

I should have really tried to find her first, and I couldn't even come up
with some BS excuse for not realizing that first.  When I got there another
message was waiting.

"Where have you been, what happened, what can I do, why are you mixed up
with Genom?"  Was the first message.  It had been 'erased' and rewritten
several times as the author tried to get it just right but the essence of
it remained beneath the top most layer; "Please stay safe, let me know if
you need help." PN.

I wasn't sure how she knew Genom was mixed up with things, but I could
answer the rest.  "I'm free now.  I saw you looking for me on the web,
thank you, it means a lot.  Would love to meet online in 24 hours, use same
connection path from when we first met."

At first I wasn't sure why I was suddenly so nervous about putting anything
concrete down but the web didn't feel quite like the haven it had before.  It
wasn't until after I had searched her entry portal to the web for the third
time without finding a live trace that I realized what it was.  Genom, she
knew that I was connected to Genom somehow and it wasn't a guess.  If she
knew that much, then how secure was I, who else could monitor my movements.
Spooked I disconnected and spent a nervous night staring at the ceiling
hand twitching for the gun at every nocturnal bump and scrape from the
building around me.

When the light of dawn began to peek in my window I still hadn't decided
what to do.  A trip downstairs for a glass of juice strangely sour to my
taste, and packet of instant oatmeal and I was set for the day, *fluid
systems capacity at 90%.* Down 2% since yesterday, I bit my lip, I wasn't
sure just how far I might be able to push it but that drop, 2% in the
course of a day did nothing to make me comfortable with my long term
survival arrangements.

*800,000 yen, down 18,000 a day, a 2.25% drop,* At least I would have money
up until my blood supply could no longer sustain me.  Pushing that maudlin
thought aside I decided I needed to move on before I drove myself to death
with worry.

There were still hours, *15:22:21* until I needed to be online to meet
Pinku Neko; and while I suppose I could just sit quietly in the hotel until
then I had no intention of sitting idly and letting time go to waste.

I needed a job and a place to stay, not necessarily in that order but
without it long term integration was a pipe dream.  The obvious first place
to start looking was on the web, but as I sat in one of the moderately
comfortable chairs in my room browsing I realized a few things quickly.  Any
job I might actually want would require greater experience than my apparent
youth would allow me to claim, and I would need to get some kind of
physical documentation.  Otherwise I would be left with under the counter
jobs and living.  While I could always try to find another natural history
museum to crash at I didn't fancy the risks inherent for a woman in that
lifestyle.

The second thing that became obvious was more distressing, the reason so
much of the city remained a slum and for the high level of gang
violence.  There
simply were few if any unskilled jobs available.  All the available ones
already taken by cheap boomer labor and while technically I suppose I
qualified on those grounds I wasn’t about to put that on my resume.

I also didn't want to simply spam the web with my resume.  I would need to
put too much information about myself out there and while *master Flint *wasn't
likely to be able to hunt me down by himself, if I put up a billboard like
that he would almost certainly be able to find me and if he did I didn't
fancy my chances of remaining free.

Even a print version quickly eluded me as I came to contact information and
realized I didn't have a phone, or address.  I could fix the first now, the
second might be a bit harder.  Heading out I took my briefcase, one of the
pistols safely hidden inside.

Walking the streets it felt like everyone knew what I was.  I could feel
the stares following me as I walked to the subway station.  As I glanced
around people would look away caught staring.  It was unnerving and nearly
panicking I watched my reflection in the glass, turning this way and that
but couldn't see anything wrong.  My suit and skirt were fine, I hadn't
forgotten anything and there was no indication that the men's briefcase
held anything other than papers.

There wasn't anything on my face, I was getting ready to tear my hair out
in frustration when I caught the expression on the face of a man sitting
behind me and realization struck.  They weren't staring because they could
tell I was a boomer, or a liar or had a gun.  They were staring because I
was beautiful.

It was something of a shock.  Never had my self-image encompassed the
concept of being so unreservedly desirable.  Sure I had always thought of
myself as attractive enough, but never anything more than that.  It was
almost as shocking as realizing I had become a woman, the visceral gut
level realization that when people saw me that they saw this, that
perfection mirrored in the window before me.

Suddenly self-conscious for a new reason I grasped my briefcase with both
hands to hold it steady and bolted from the train at the next stop.  Pausing
halfway up the stairs to street level I leaned against the wall embracing
the privacy allowed existing in this in between place, streams of humanity
waiting above and below me.

How had I managed to get dressed, to examine myself in the mirror and not
recognize so obvious a fact.  Hell how had I missed that as a sexaroid of
course I would be attractive, no that wasn't sufficient, gorgeous?   Thankfully
hyperventilating was a thing of the past, a mechanically governed pulmonary
system easily capable of regulating my breath.

It was an odd feeling as I emerged from the cocooning dark of the tunnel
into the breezy light of the day.

I was free.

But it was more than just that.  I wasn't just free, I was also liberated,
I could almost feel past modes of thought flaking away under the
realization of my new existence.  As I walked toward Akihabara feeling the
sun shining on my face I let myself revel in the attention.

It might be cheap, and superficial, but these people either wanted to be
me, or be with me.  Either way I loved it.  The gnawing darkness inside,
that wanted to rail against god and fate for having done this to me
couldn't compete with these new sun drenched feelings.  I was alive,
healthy, lucky enough to be free and strong.  It was time for me to stop
complaining about what had happened and revel in it.  I had won the lottery
and didn't even know it.

Sure taxes take half of the prize; I had had to pay a steep price, my
previous life, but when you consider that I had been dead it really isn't
too much to ask for in exchange for a new one and I wasn't going to
squander it.

Starting my day at the Uniqlo store not far from Shinbashi station I set
out to find a second set of cloths.  I was originally planning on jeans and
a t-shirt, simple, easy, and cheap.  Well the first two was true enough but
cheap they were not.  I couldn’t believe the relative prices when I found
them and in the name of preserving what cash I had my wardrobe choice had
to change.

Not wanting to stand out I 'browsed' while actually watching the other
customers.  I spent an hour playing a little guessing game trying to
predict what they would actually buy.  Not just try on with friends, or
claimed was perfect but what they actually walked out with in a bag.  Two
simple blouses, a knee length skirt, and an uncomfortable pair of sandals
later I walked out the first of my goals for the day reached.

So, with new determination, and lightness in my stride I dove into the
madness of Akihabara the electronics market to fill the second, a cell
phone.

I took my time looking.  Without a job time wasn't money, and cellular
plans in MegaTokyo were expensive.  It was only incomprehensible until I
took a peak at the blinding EM spectrum once more.  At some point
saturation levels had been reached.  The only way to find room for more
bandwidth was to take it back from someone else.

So it was that I found myself buying a cellphone that could have taken the
place of my old laptop for 2500 yen yet paying 100 yen a minute for speech
and 200plus if I wanted to use any of the web or streaming features.

Still this model had 'me' compatible Bluetooth as well as regular I/O
ports, though the salesman did warn me that the reception distance wouldn't
be much more than twenty meters in downtown, or five in Akihabara due to
signal interference.  I thanked him anyway and spent 300 yen setting up my
voicemail draining a tenth of the free minutes I had gotten with it.

So, phone down, but now I needed to find a place to stay.  Unfortunately
most of the nicer ones wanted proof of employment, while most jobs wanted
proof of residence. I wouldn't have considered the latter to be a real
hindrance before.  I mean, I had always had a 'previous address' in the
past.  Maybe I could get an apartment as a tourist, that might keep them
from doing a job check…

Still busy ruminating over what my chances of being able to get an
apartment might be I heard a brief scuffle and turned in time to see a
punk, spiked leather hair and all finish tearing a woman's purse from her
shoulder and start for an alley not twelve feet, *4.63 meters,* from
me.  Shoving
and elbowing his way clear he took two running steps and was looking over
his shoulder when the edge of my briefcase caught him in the elbow.

I hadn't really thought it over but was committed now. Following up the
strike I stepped in and shoved the ganger further on his way, the purse
dropping to the street from his suddenly numb fingers.  As the ripples
started to spread outward drawing more attention the punk glanced from me
to the purse and to the crowd before continuing on his way cradling his arm
as he ran out of view.

"Oh thank you very much."  Turning to the voice I saw the woman, young, but
probably older than I was rising from a bow.  Her face flush with signs of
adrenaline and the short chase that had brought her even with me and her
now recovered purse.  "I'm so glad he didn't get away, I've got my whole
life in here."

"It's nothing, really, I'm just glad to have been able to help."  It took a
few more moments of politely accepting her thanks before I could slip away.
Her words had sparked a thought for me.  Could it really be just that
simple?  Go to the Prefecture office and ask for a replacement for a
'stolen' card?

My spirits lifted, not so much by my good deed as my new plan I started
walking quickly back through the crowded streets to take the subway back to
my hotel.  I had some investigating to do.  I would hate to walk into the
Japanese equivalent of the DMV and slip up on some minor detail.

An hour and another 18,000 yen poorer had me back in my hotel room
again.  Skirt
and Jacket hung neatly in the closet.  I would need to go cloths shopping
soon or the hotel staff at least would start getting suspicious.  Sipping
tap water from the complementary plastic cup I lay back in bed getting
ready to go net diving again.

It wasn't really necessary, and I could even split my attention between the
real world and the web if I wanted but somehow it just felt right to lay
back and close my eyes before diving in, I guess I was just too new at true
multitasking to think things comfortable any other way.

Keeping a feeler out on our meeting grounds I proceeded to scour the net
for everything I could on just how you went about getting a MPI
(multi-purpose identification) card.  It handled just about everything you
could want in 2032, drivers license, voter registration, biometrics and
medical records, census info, passport and national ID, criminal record,
social security information the works.  It could even if desired serve as a
repository for secure banking and other non-governmental but approved
purposes.

It was a bit daunting just how much was tied into that little 85.6 x
53.98mm piece of plastic and its integrated chip.  So much was tied into it
that I wasn't sure I even could just walk in to get one printed.  For one
thing I didn't even know what my own biometric data would show much less
how to explain away it's possible absence in their files.  The upcoming
meeting with PN suddenly took on a greater level of importance.  I needed
one of those cards, and I couldn't do it alone.

So it was with an anxious leap in my pulse that I my feeler picked up the
arrival of someone at our meeting place and I rushed off to join them.



Frozen Butterfly 2 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

Chapter 3.0 – Finding a Home

There really isn't an electronic analogue for a comforting hug.  If there
were when I recognized Neko's digital presence I would have squeezed the
electrons out of it.  As it happened though the best I could do was give
her an appropriately energetic welcome, smiley face and asterisked hugs.

"Hello to you too Galatea…" Neko answered.  There was a brief pause as I
felt a tingle run down my spine, or thought that I did.

"I'm glad to see you've gotten free, but are you alright, are you safe?"  I
imagined concern in their tone, a look of worry on their face as they sat
at their computer.

"Yes, I'm fine, at least for now.  This time I really did get away, at
least I think so.  I must have had a tracker on me last time, but I just
wanted to let you know how much your help means to me, and how glad I was
when I realized you hadn't forgotten I exist."

I continued on, my words appearing at the speed of thought, maybe she
wouldn't notice and just assume I was a very quick typist.  "It was Genom,
but how did you know, I mean, you deleted that question but I still found
it and I don't understand."  I paused trying to think how to go on.

Typing at the speed of thought is very well and good, but it still doesn't
help when those thoughts become muddled and mixed up, trying to think of
what to say, while simultaneously having to make sure you're not actually
typing out your thoughts and only what you do want to say.  I was heavily
caught up in this conundrum when I got the next response.

"I followed your trail and realized you had left that message from within
GPPC."  I wasn't sure how to answer that and the next line of text just
made it worse.  "Amber, it's alright.  I saw that contract and I know it's
a fake, but you don't have to worry we can go to the police and I can prove
it for you."

That shocked me to the core.  Neko knew, well they didn't know but thought
they knew what was going on.  Still the last thing I could let happen was
get the police involved, as *Master Flint* would much rather take the fine
for having an illegal boomer than the time for kidnapping and illegal
confinement.  Still trying to put together the perfect answer I received
another prompt.  "Amber?"

It had been too long, *00:01:32* since I had received the message.  "My
name's not Amber…" was all I could think to say at first, but then the
floodgates opened.  "It's not that easy, I can't just go to the police,
I'll get in trouble, at least as much as Master Flint," the reference to
him passing from thought to text without notice as I continued a sudden
brainstorm coming to mind.

"I, when Genom had me… I'm a boomeroid now, I don't have any rights.  They
might decide to, retire me.  I don't even exist anymore."  Ironically I
realized it was the strictest truth, from a certain point of view as I went
on.  "The name and contract were just fabrications Master made to cover
himself in case I was noticed after they finished.  I can't just go back to
my real life, its gone, I've looked and there's nothing left to go back to."


Tears dripped down my cheeks, a very small part of me noting the drop in
fluids as the rest of my body shook with emotion.  "I'm sorry, I'm making a
mess of this, but I just can't go to the police."

I waited, long agonizing seconds ticking past for a response.  What would
they think, what might they do, had I said too much, lost a friend?

No, "It's alright, we don't need to go to the police but, I do want to
help."  Pulling myself back together, relief drying my tears and stilling
my shakes they went on before I could interrupt.  "Maybe I can help some
more, but we should meet, in real life.  Do you trust me?"

That question didn't require any introspection.  Of course I did, I didn't
have anyone else to trust.  "Yes, absolutely."

There was a slight pause as what almost seemed like a breeze ruffled
through the node around us before I got their response.  "Good, how about
the Starbucks outside the Tozai line station 1?"

Splitting my concentration I quickly realized that I had somehow 'felt'
them do a quick web search, as I noticed the exact same feeling as I also
did one.  The Tozai line station wasn't too far from me, and I could get
there from the Chuo line easily enough or walk the mile from the hotel.

Now that I was thinking again I realized just how…perfect the choice
was.  Close
enough to be easy for me to find, but far enough from the hotel not to
spook me.  Giving into the urge I just had to ask.  "So… do you have my
room number yet? J"  I threw in the smiley face to reassure them that I
wasn't upset.

"Well… okay yes, I do, but, don't freak out, I just wanted to make sure you
weren't still stuck in Genom."

"It's alright, thanks for being honest about it… so, uh, tonight any good?"
Already thoughts of moving running around in the back of my head, could I
really trust them, they seemed to know everything about me, and I didn't
know anything about them, not really.  The fear of recapture changing my
feelings toward them just that quickly.

"No sorry, I can't I'm at work now, but tomorrow morning at 8, if you can
wait that long?"

"Of course, how will we recognize each other?"

"Don't worry, I've got a picture, but it's better not to put too much out
on a public server like this.  Even if it is tucked neatly behind the
city's firewalls, as we can both attest their security isn't the best."

I had to grudgingly grant that they had a point.  "Alright, but if I'm a
little jumpy you'll have to forgive me, deal?"

"Deal.  But I really do need to get back to working, just, stay safe, and
be careful.  I'll see you soon."

And with that I was alone, Neko's presence in the server gone taking some
of the liveliness of the newt with it.

Returning my focus to the hotel room and disconnecting from the net left me
feeling oddly cramped.  A few minutes of stretching didn't seem to help but
did reassure me that I was healing well,  *fluid systems capacity at 87%,
epidermal layer 99%, internal organic systems 94%, ocular systems 95% -
further recovery impossible,* or at least everything but my vision was.  It
made me wonder what kind of warranty I had come with and where the little
sticker that said it would be void if removed might be.

Shaking my head at that silly line of thought I could only wonder how Neko
had managed to get a picture of me.  I didn't remember anyone with a camera
after I was awake, and before that, well, presumably if they had one of me
in a cryogenic storage tank they wouldn't be so quick to help.

I let my concern over things that might go wrong occupying my thoughts late
into the evening.  Staring at the blurry ceiling I imagined the cops just
waiting to take me in and decommission me, or *Master* waiting with a squad
of boomers and taking me back to his bed in chains, and finally the image
of Mason, waiting smugly for me to arrive before informing me that I never
really had a chance after all before with a bang I was dead.

>From variations on those base three came a million more and I knew it was
time to 'sleep' when my mind started throwing out the silly idea that Neko
was a slave trader and would end up kidnapping me and selling me into an
American family to be the adopted Asian girl they always wanted as a child,
never mind the age I was really only a few months old…  I might be able to
go without it for a while without getting too drowsy but, definitely time
to sleep.

Waking up, I snapped immediately to full awareness.  I could tell hear the
rumble of cars outside, and feel the warmth of a beam of sunlight that lay
across the sheets covering me.  It wasn't so much that I wanted to get up,
as that lying in bed is really improved by the long slow march towards
consciousness enjoyed by so much of the world, other than me.

Carefully getting up I found myself instinctively stretching.  Contorting
myself like a pretzel without realizing just why, at least until the
question occurred to me.  *Initiating self-maintenance routine for biologic
components, estimated run time 01:06:23 given lack of facilities.*

As I continued to go through what quickly became a somewhat recognizable
exercise routine near enough on autopilot that it didn't make a difference
I delved deeper into my own mind to get a better idea of the reasons for it.
Apparently it was part of the maintenance required to stay physically fit
and attractive, and as I huffed my way through crunches, pushup's and more
esoteric exercises I couldn't help but laugh a little to myself.

This was mandated behavior, and while I could override it if I needed to it
was funny thinking about what might happen over time to a sexaroid that did.
Nobody would want a fat sex toy, and certainly my *master* would want me to
stay in good shape for him, just the thought of which helped me through the
rather grueling workout.

Flopping down onto the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing
heavily as I recovered I let myself focus on the bi-weekly status report
that had been generated as a result of my 'maintenance'.  The initial
overview now familiar to me, *fluid systems capacity at 84%, epidermal
layer 100%, internal organic systems 95%, ocular systems 95% - further
recovery impossible,* but the more detailed breakdown that followed
intriguing.  It listed off the numerous issues due to utilizing human blood
rather than the custom artificial I had been designed for and the slight
chemical imbalances caused by my diet so far and more useful to me given my
lack of a degree in advanced cybernetics, bio-chemistry, and boomer
engineering proposed solutions to mitigate the onset of future issues.

Aside from a warning against pre-processed food items, an injunction to
consume 15ml of purified synthetic oils a day, and to eat food I would
consider organic whenever possible came the largest surprise.  Purified
water alone would nearly double the operating life of a natural blood
supply allowing a far more efficient filtering of the contaminants inherent
with this system of operation.

Of course it also recommended that I take the obvious steps of switching
back to a genom branded synthetic blood, or at least changed my supply on a
weekly basis neither of those seemed likely to be a possibility in the
coming weeks.

Reluctantly getting up I forced myself to stumble into the shower giving
the blurry rug a glare as I almost tripped.  First bad vision and now
getting tired, didn't they know that robots are supposed to be monolithic
perfect, metronomic beings that would work at 100% capacity up until the
moment they ran out of power and shut down?  Stupid designers wanting a
truly organic sex toy…

A half hour in the shower and I was feeling much better about life.  The
fatigue from my earlier exertions was gone, I felt clean and fresh, and if
I squinted I could pretend that even my eyesight was getting better.  Dithering
a moment I decided on wearing the black skirt and a purple blouse that I
picked up the day before, but instead of the sandals I slipped back on the
dress shoes from my suit.  Not as good as Nikes but better than floppy high
heels if it turned out I had to run.  I tucked my phone and one of the
pistols into my messenger bag, slipped on my glasses and took a look at
myself in the mirror.

Finger combing my hair back I gave the attractive girl with the green eyes
a smile for effect, my cheeks dimpling and eyes seemed to light up.  At the
very least if the meeting went wrong I could call for help and I bet any
young men in the vicinity would come running.  A strange tingle in my spine
at the idea giving me an inkling that I didn’t want to examine that plan
any deeper.

I reluctantly parted with another 18,000 yen at the front desk on my way
out, leaving me with only 731,110 yen left to my name.  The exact figure
coming quickly as I ran over my recent purchases.  That was handy; at least
I wouldn't ever be in danger of becoming overdrawn if I did get a bank
account.

Today the admiring glances disturbed me less and the huddled mass of
humanity and their pheromones bothered me more as I rode the subway towards
my meeting with Neko.  Some random memory from watching "Burn Notice" in my
old life telling me I should try scoping out the area beforehand if I
wanted to be a 'real' spy driving my behavior.

I was unfortunately aware given my senses and an intrinsic database of
behavioral reactions just what the business man who was slowly creeping
towards me after each subway stop had in mind.  Unfortunately for him I had
no intention to play that game with anyone, not even *Flint*, and so he
found himself pin wheeling his arms for balance as I timed a light shove
just right while passing him on my way out at my destination.

Halfway up the stairs to the world above I paused to smile and smooth back
down my blouse and skirt.  The lack of attention, and heavy scents of male,
and female, arousal allowing me to clear my head and put that set of
conflicting thoughts and autonomic reactions behind me for the moment.

The Starbucks in question was just another road front restaurant tucked
into the first floor of a somewhat soaring building full of neon and
half-incomprehensible signs mixing English and Japanese despite the fact I
now knew both languages perfectly.  In fact, if the street had been a bit
cleaner, the foot traffic heavier, and less piercings and leather on
display I could have mistaken the spot for Japan of thirty years ago.

Not sure what I expected to find, or really what a proper pre-scouting
entailed I walked around the block twice and noted where the nearest bus's
and subway stations were.  What looked like a corner drugstore turned
squatters camp held court one block over as well and I determined to myself
that I was NOT going to run that way in an emergency.  The bikers there
might help if I asked, but that could end as bad or worse than anything
else I might get myself into.

With an hour still to go before my meeting I stepped into a Lawson's back
on the main street near the Starbucks.  Picking up a bottle of distilled
water and a small vial of oil for automatic clippers I turned to consider
my breakfast choices.  The pickings were pretty slim.

Given my new diet just about the only thing I could use was a pair of hard
boiled eggs.  Purchases in hand I stepped back out into the growing warmth
of the day.  The eggs were dry, tasting like talc to my new palate, but the
water helped wash them down.  The oil on the other hand I have to say was a
treat.  Sweet, and slick just a few drops on my tongue were enough to bring
a small smile to my lips and I knew I had a new addiction, I just needed to
find and appropriately discrete delivery method so I didn't look like a
total junkie with a bottle of designer drugs.

Impromptu breakfast complete and new guilty pleasure carefully tucked away
in my satchel I debated things in my head one last time, nerves starting to
get the better of me.  Should I stay, or run.  This could all just be a
trap and I would never be free again.  The possibility filled me with a
nameless dread and almost I found myself turning to walk away.  It was only
the thought of being alone without anyone and cut off from Mr. Flint that
gave me the courage to turn back and take that first step.

Which of course lead to the second and so on until I was sitting in a booth
with a clear line of sight to the door nursing a cup of green tea as I
slowly but surely destroyed one straw after another waiting for time to
pass.  The one good thing here is that it didn't seem to slow down, instead
continuing on with the same metronomic precision as it had since I first
woke up to this life.

Business was steady, a near constant line of drones coming in the door,
getting their coffee or tea and then shuffling back out without the least
variation of routine.  It was impressive noting how many managed the daily
ritual without even needing to place their order the boomers behind the
counter were so familiar with them.

I noticed her at once when she came in.  She was short, smaller than most
everyone I had met so far and I wondered if I had finally met someone
tinier than myself.  There was nothing of the half asleep daze of the
regulars in her emerald eyes, a richer deep green than mine, and already
darting about the store to find me.  It wasn't a surprise then to see her
bright red hair bounce with the quickness of her stride as she moved to
join me at the table.

Rising I offered her a polite bow, half wondering if I should have offered
my hand instead, two sets of instincts clashing, but for now the culturally
appropriate one winning out.  "Hi, um, it's nice to meet you, I don't think
we've really been properly introduced.  I’m Kari."

Rising out of our respective bows I quickly suppressed a slight groan.  No
luck, even she was taller than me!  A glance down to her shoes confirmed
it, we're both in flats and she had a clear *4cm* advantage.  Letting out
my breath and with it the disappointment at still being the shortest I
didn't let the emotion reach my face.

"Hi, I'm Nene." She answered, before gesturing to the chair and at my
hurried nod sat down across from me, waiting for me to do the same before
going on.  "I'm really glad that you're alright.  I did a little checking
and that Flint is, well, I'm just glad."  Her words stumbled over one
another as she spoke her tone tripping from disgust to relief and back
quickly.

Giving into my instincts I let out a little shiver as she spoke of *master*,
the action playing easily on her sympathy before I even consciously
realized my manipulation.  A little grimace at myself as much as the
implications she made I spoke back up before her imagination could get away
from her.  "I'm glad too, but I just want to put it behind me."

Nodding in sympathy and what she believed to be understanding Nene huffed a
little.  "Well we won't let him get away with it. We're going to take your
life back no matter what!"

I was surprised by her enthusiasm and vehemence into silence.  Sitting
there I looked at the equally petite woman across the table from me as she
began to outline a plan to get me back into society.  Her drive and passion
were obvious, eyes flashing as she spoke.  I was caught, captivated by her
presence and unable to do much more than nod and smile in agreement to
everything she said.

It took almost fifteen minutes to outline her plan, and for me to regain
the nerve to speak.  She was just so, vivacious… wait, work for who?  "Don't
you think a job working for the department of internal affairs in the motor
vehicles department is a bit risky, I mean the government?"

To which she shook her head with a smile.  "It's perfect don't you see?  I
can get you hired for real in one department, print up a building pass and
employment ID, and then get you 'transferred' to another location.  All
without needing a real Identification card or address.  After that you just
need to find the time to print up your own 100% real and official documents.
We'll probably need to list you as 65% boomer, but, while it's skirting the
line you won't have to worry about the police making a mistake or losing
your freedom just because Genom tried to take your rights away."

It was hard to argue with her plan after that, more because of her
enthusiasm and smile than on any logical kind of basis.  I could feel
myself tearing up a bit as I spoke, "Thank you so much.  Do you really
think it will work?  I don't want you to risk yourself on my behalf and it
sounds dangerous trying to do so much just to get me an ID.  I could always
find something else…" I made the suggestions even though I hadn’t come up
with a single feasible option for myself outside of hooker that might allow
the kind of independence she was offering.

"Of course it will, just leave everything to me."  Her smile was infectious
and filled with confidence.  Which is why it took me longer than normal to
realize what she had on underneath the light windbreaker she had worn into
the store as her change in posture caused it to fall open.

My own smile still wide as I returned her grin I noticed something flash on
her blouse, and eyes traveling down I could feel my expression going blank.
That little gleam was from a nice, shiny little police badge, placed on the
breast of a white dress shirt complete with black tie.  Alone that would
have been enough to sour the mood but it wasn't just a police badge.  It
was an AD police badge, for boomer crimes, the people who were responsible
for finding and stopping rogue boomers, like myself, or boomeroids, like
"Officer Romanova" thought I was.

The world darkened, sound going flat as I looked up my eyes meeting her's.  I
could count the milliseconds before she realized something was wrong,
enthusiasm turning to confusion in her eyes as she recognized my change in
posture.

Compressing time and pushing myself hard I had all the opportunity in the
world to analyze her reactions as I seemed to almost slowly rocket to my
feet.  The confusion slowly shifting to hurt and dismay at my rejection as
I took a step back from the table my chair spinning away behind me.

I looked around in a panic for a way out and for her backup but there was
none.  The store only had the front entrance and if she had any backup they
weren't inside with her.  Licking my lips as I shifted my balance getting
ready to run my eyes fell back on my friend and my betrayer.  The one who
was here to take my freedom away again and then I stumbled in shock.

Looking at her I saw as her eyes glanced down, spotting her own badge and
watched as a look of enlightenment lit up her features.  I was designed to
be able to understand human expressions, physical cues and react
appropriately, but as her eyes moved to meet mine and she called out "wait"
there was something there my housekeeping programs couldn't identify.

It was desperation, apology, a need to explain and more that the portion of
me that was still human saw in her eyes.  It was profound enough to snap me
back out of accelerated time without meaning to.  The abrupt change in
apparent 'speed' had me slipping on the tile floor, feet going out from
underneath and in an almost choreographed fall my forehead met the edge of
the table with a ringing bang.

Understandably the sudden movement and noise drew all eyes to us.  But
instead of a gun and handcuffs as I still half expected as I shunted off
the shock of the spike of pain through my head Nene only greeted me with an
expression of worry and a nervous "Are you alright?"  as I flopped onto my
back.

All I could think of for a moment as I looked up her hose covered legs to
her uniform skirt was that I really should have recognized the uniform
sooner.  I had even stared at her uniform shoes and kicked myself mentally
as all I had considered at the time being that they weren't heals.

I accepted her help to sit, then stand back up, offering an apology to the
store in general and a slightly suspicious and betrayed look to Officer
Romanova.  Recognizing the glare for what it was she tried to laugh it off.
"Maybe we should go outside…" obviously not wanting to say anymore while we
were still the center of attention.

"That might be best, as long as you don't have any friends waiting."  I
don't know why I said it, the snarky accusatory tone in my voice the last
thing I wanted to include to maintain her trust, or so a little voice deep
inside reliably informed me.

Making our way outside like two strange cats I glanced nervously around for
any signs she had been lying but there weren't any.  No police ready to
take me into custody, no snipers on rooftops with anti-material rifles to
drop me in my tracks.  She had been telling the truth, at least about that.

We settled into an uneasy walk, our strides close enough to allow it to
almost feel companionable.  I watched her for signs of betrayal, as she
watched me, probably wondering if I was about to flip out from cyber
psychosis on her.

Finally as though she couldn't take the silence any longer Nene spoke up.  "I'm
sorry I didn't tell you, but online its not the best idea to go around
telling people your with the police, not if you want to maintain any kind
of rapport with the community.  And then, when I tried to bring it up you
were so insistent."

Quiet for a few steps she went on, "I understand you had good reason, but
after the way you shot down going to the police, and admitted…what they had
done… I still wanted to help but I just knew you would run if I had told
you the truth then.  I really do want to help you, and I can, I just, was
afraid that you would react like you did if I told you up front.  I wasn't
going to hide it, just, I meant to work up to things first.  Maybe get a
plan in place and then just sort of, ease into it."

Looking over at her I felt some of the tension slipping out of my shoulders.
She was so painfully nervous and blatantly contrite I just couldn't
maintain my feelings of anger or betrayal.  Stopping I let my instincts
have full reign as I caught her hand in one of mine pulling her to a stop.

Turning to face each other squarely I offered a smile back to her nervous
frown.  Taking a step forward I pulled her into a gentle hug with my free
arm.  I could feel the tension slipping away as I whispered, mouth near her
ear, "I forgive you, and I'm sorry I panicked, I should have given you more
trust than that."

Feeling the nervous tension dissipating I stepped back just before her
ingrained social conditioning could replace it with another because of our
proximity I kept hold of her hand.  Looking up the very slight rise to meet
her slightly confused gaze squarely with my own I went on.  "You are a
better friend than I deserve, and I am incredibly lucky to have found you."
A last squeeze of my hand and I let go, contentment in my heart, and high
probability of successful emotional connections having been made in my
processors.

We both took long cleansing breaths, before starting back down the block by
unspoken mutual consent.  "So, what were you doing out on the net posing as
a hacker anyway.  Are you a part of some cyber crimes division and
originally planning to take me in for breaking into a government server?"

She blushed a little and shook her head.  "No, not really."  She chewed on
her lower lip in a cute little gesture.  *Probably indications of subject
weighing value of relationship against value of secret, 62% likelihood of
positive decision.*  I don't know if it really was such a near thing, or if
she really was that open about it in her own mind but I know I was relieved
when she obviously decided in my favor.

"I'm sort of, freelance.  I just do that on my own time, for fun, you know?"
Looking at me I could tell it wasn't the whole story but enough that I felt
relieved in the trust she had showed by sharing it.

"So then, what do you do for the police?"  I asked, my curiosity getting
the better of me as we began to walk again, this time my feet leading the
way towards my hotel It wasn't a short walk but I didn't know where else to
go.

"I'm a data analyst, but also have to serve as a dispatcher."  At my raised
eyebrow she seemed to take a little bit of offense.  "The ADP doesn't have
the manpower or budget to get by without all of us working extra hard!"

Cheek twitching with the urge to smile I just nodded.  "I'm sorry, I didn't
mean anything by it, just, I guess I thought that you would have boomers
doing that kind of a job."

"No, the chief doesn’t trust them for it, and neither would most of the
force.  I mean, we’ve all seen the problems when one does go rogue, and so
it's too big a risk to depend on them for that."

It made sense to me so I tried shifting the focus of things.  "So do you
really think your plan will work, you can really get me a job in a
government records office?"

Her broad smile was reassuring and lit up her face, the confidence very
becoming on the young officer.  "Of course" and looking around she confided
quietly, "How do you think I got my current job?"  Something must have
sparked in her mind though as she looked me over a moment more before
asking.  "Just how old are you anyway, we're going to have to fabricate
some records."

The question was a hard one.  Flattering and insulting all at once, and
none of the true answers I could give seemed reasonable.  I could hardly
claim to be in my sixties, and just as clearly couldn't claim the five
years my physical body had been in existence.  Even averaging it to put me
in my thirties wouldn't cut it.  At best I figured that with my body I
could claim low to mid-twenties.

Sneaking another longer peek at Nene I made a quick decision.  She didn't
look like she could be much more than twelve, okay, to be honest more like
eighteen or nineteen herself, and I wanted her to be comfortable around me
without a perceived age difference to cause a problem.  "Nineteen," I was
watching her closely for any signs of distress and seeing nothing but
relief *78% certainty* on her features knew I was close enough to meet her
expectations and to her own age there wouldn't be any problems there.

Spotting a restaurant on the way she shanghaied me inside where we had
coffee and pastries, to make up for the ones she missed because of my
earlier panic and just talked.  Half of our conversation on serious topics,
planning the details of my new life, and the other half we spent telling
each other stories mine all appropriately modified of course.  I let her
know I was originally an American, and a little about my childhood.  She
shared how she grew up in Megatokyo and her exploits in high school.  I was
surprised to realize she was probably at the low end of my age estimate and
her comments about hacking her way into the police made more sense.  If I
was right she probably still wasn't old enough to be legally employed and I
wondered just how old her co-workers thought she was.

Eventually though she apologized and had excuse herself to go to work,
promising me to let me know when things had been arranged.  With a final
parting exchange of email and phone information we both went our separate
ways.  Her bouncing charged up with the sugar she had just finished eating
and myself feeling a little bloated.  The Cinnamon roll had been good in a
tangy sour patch kid's kind of way, but if the menu had been a bit more
accurate about the vast size of the confection I would definitely have
ordered something smaller.

(probably incomplete at this point but I'm not sure if I'll break here for
a new chapter or not.)
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