[BGC][Fanfic] Fearful Symmetry

[Shawn Hagen]

Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers. 2034
Fearful Symmetry
by Shawn Hagen

Based on Concepts and Characters created by Suzuki Toshimutsu.
Bubble Gum Crisis is owned, or was, by Artmic, Youmex and Suzuki
Toshimutsu. As usual special thanks to my proof readers Brian and
Suzika. Thanks.
This story is a continuation of events begun in Anima/Domino
Effect, Flash Powder and Eye of the Storm.

Vocab Corner

The scene, a familiar class room though the occupant is very
unfamiliar. A tall man with a long white beard, perhaps old, but
dignified and handsome with a sense of power.
"Good day mortals," he says, "I am Zeus, ruler of Olympus, not
that that means much these days. Basically I am retired. Still, my
muses get around a bit, which is why I am here. It seems that
Melpomene and the mortal she was tortur..., err, inspiring, are off on
some kind of quest in the lower realms. Since she is not here, and
there is a matter of a contract, damn lawyers, I am filling if for
her."
"Here is a list of some vocabulary and notes that may help you
with this story."
"Now if you will excuse me I have a golf date with Odin and old
one eye has the worst slice you can imagine. Easy win and with luck he
will bring along one of those cute Norns to caddie for him."
"Good bye," he says, walking off set.
Behind him a piece of chalk lifts up and begins to write on the
black board.

New Years Visits, Hatsumode - On New Years and the days following
many Japanese visit shrines in their area to receive the Kami's
blessings for the coming year.
Hayama - evil destroying arrow
Fuda - a charm, there are many types, for protection usually.
Adults Day - On the 20th of the new year, a celebration for all who
have turned 20 since the last celebration.
Seiza - a very uncomfortable way to sit if you have not been doing so
since you were a child.
Hokusai - famous artist, Tokugawa period, did 36 (or something) views
of Mount Fuji.
Shoji - paper window screens.
sho sho machi kudasai - please wait a moment (polite)
toka - particle, indicates the word preceding it is an example
ocha - green tea Tada - free
Ikaga - how about dame - bad, no
Iie - no Shinpai shinai - don't worry (informal)
Daijoubu - all right Yokatta - good, I'm glad
Hajimashoo - let's begin
Honto - really? Junsabuchoo - police sergeant
Wakaru Wakarimasu - I understand.
Tabun - maybe Temee - you (very rude)
Tadaima - I'm home, I'm back. O kaerei na sai - welcome back
Ii - yes, good Keibuho - police lieutenant
Omoshiroi - interesting Kichou - Captain
sen - a thousand Yaroo - Bastard
Fuji-san - mount Fuji, the san prefix is added to mountain names.
Sumimasen - I'm sorry Nani -what
Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu - please treat me well, set expression.
Yondekudasai - please call ....
Hen - strange Shikataganai - It can't be helped
Chotto - a little Gomen nasai - I'm sorry
matte - wait (informal) Doushite - what is it?
Ikura - how much Ima de ii desu ka - is now all right.

Final Note, long Os. I have, often enough, ignored certain conventions
for long Os, mainly because it does not look good to me to put "oo" or
"ou" in certain words. The real convention is a line over the "o" in
question to indicate that it is long. Good luck on that happening
here. And since I got slammed for putting in all the extra "o" and "u"
in an essay once I sort of don't do it now. Of course my proofreaders
picked up on this and gave me a hard time. So they are not at fault.
It's all me and my laziness.
Ato de.

Saturday January 7 2034
An early morning silence was broken by the disharmonious sound of
chain running over gear, the loud clanking as metal banged on metal.
The garage door began to roll up, sliding along the aluminum guides,
the metal adding to the noise level.
Passing through the open door into the large space of the old
factory was a black Shelby Cobra, likely the only one of its kind in
MegaTokyo.
Once she shut off the engine and closed the garage door Priss got
out of her newly rebuilt car. She turned, pushing the door closed, and
looked at it.
It was a beautiful piece of work, Gibson had done a phenomenal job
in restoring it. He had even managed to get some original parts from
somewhere in China. Priss looked at it then sighed. She absolutely
hated the car.
Restoring it had been both very expensive and ultimately
impractical. She had known that from the beginning but the desire to
do something that was impractical had been too strong. Why she was not
sure, it had just been one of those things.
She turned away from the car and walked across the wide floor, it
was still empty, the concrete gray and cold, to the stairs at the far
end of the factory. She passed her new bike, a custom model that
Raven-Hakase and Mackie had built for her. She had been saving up for
it before her sudden windfall so did not feel she had spent too much.
Her old bike was parked beside it.
She used to have so little space that she could not have afforded
to hold onto anything more than one bike. Now space was the least of
her worries. She wondered if she would become a packrat.
Her footsteps echoed hollowly on the metal stairs, filling the
empty space of her home. She reached the door at the top of the stairs
and unlocked it, deactivating the security system. She had lived
without any more security than the lock on her trailer for a long time
and all the electronic gadgets sometimes made her feel like she was a
prisoner. It was all too much really but she had let herself be talked
into it by the contractors who had sounded like they knew what they
were talking about, by Kano who had also sounded knowledgeable about
it and ultimately by Sylia who, when asked about security systems, had
talked for a long time.
If it wasn't for the fact she had paid so much for them she might
just leave them off.
She kicked her shoes off in the genkan then stepped up into onto
the wooden floor, pushing her feet into the slippers waiting there.
She shrugged out of her jacket and let it fall to the floor.
She wanted to take a long shower, maybe get a few hours sleep
before heading off to the gallery. Yuuko's couch had been very
uncomfortable to sleep on, Priss had not felt like using the bed even
though Yuuko had been over at Leon's and would not have minded.
Stopping on the way to the bathroom she looked in at the piano
that sat in her living room. Entering she took a seat at the bench and
pushed the cover up revealing the keys. She ran through the scales
twice to loosen her fingers up then played a few simple tunes. It was
relaxing and reminded her of better times. She had learned to play the
piano before the quake and the problems it had brought.
Priss finally stopped and put the cover over the keys when the
edges of her vision grew blurry.
She stopped before the mirror in the hallway and looked at
herself. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red, her hair
was a mess and the white blouse she wore was stained yellow down the
front with beer. It had been one of those parties.
Pulling at the buttons roughly Priss walked to the bathroom. She
took the blouse off and dropped it in a wicker hamper beside the
doorway. She turned the shower on and let it run while she finished
undressing.
A minute later she stepped under the hot spray, the water feeling
wonderful.

The shower had woken her up, chased away some of the fogginess,
made her feel a bit more alert and industrious. Priss fished an old
T-shirt from a pile by her bed and pulled it on. It was several sizes
too big for her, the bottom of the shirt falling to the middle of her
thighs. It was faded red and on the front was the name of a band that
had once meant something to Priss, but she no longer considered
herself a fan.
Laid out neatly on the bed was a dark blue kimono, made of thick
cotton with a floral design. The obi and other accessories were
scattered on the bed as well. Nene had somehow talked her into going
on a New Year's visit to several shrines. If it had not been for the
fact that she did owe her for the help with the computer Priss would
have refused.
She was still not sure how to pack the garment away, she had not
even been sure on how to wear it. Nene had had to help her dress that
night.
Not that Priss would ever admit it to Nene but the night had been
fun. A major change from the way she had spent New Years in the past.
She looked up at the hayama above her bed. Nene had urged her to pick
it up as well as a few other things, there was a fuda handing from the
windshield of her new car. Priss smiled slightly as she shook her
head. She had little use for the supernatural.
Adult's day was coming up, Priss thought. The first since she had
turned twenty. It was an odd thought for her. She remembered sitting
on her bike with the others of her gang not so long ago putting down
the young women and men going off to celebrate that day. Now she was
thinking of taking her place with them. She could hardly believe it.
Next she would be thinking about getting married.
Shaking her head she walked over to the desk one of her computer
terminals sat on. She turned it on and called up the video she had put
together a few days ago. A few minutes of video from Hot Legs, some
pictures and a rough script were all Priss had put into the computer.
The ILM software had done the rest. She slowed it down to half speed
and watched it through twice, looking for anything to show her it was
just a computer construction but she could see nothing. She also
watched with a more critical eye and could not help being
disappointed. She just lacked the proper touch when it came to visual
art forms to get it right. The whole thing came off as being flat
somehow.
Shutting the computer off she walked to the answering machine by
her bed and played back the messages. Nothing of any real importance.
Takeshi would not be able to make it to the rehearsal that night,
Linna saying that Australia was great and she was sorry to have missed
Priss, and her new agent calling to asking her to drop by, as they had
to talk.
Priss erased the messages them began to clear the kimomo from her
bed, placing it on a chair. It had been several days since she had
last slept in the bed. Yuuko's place, a capsule hotel the night
before, the back seat of her car, the cot backstage at Hot Legs,
Raven's garage and other places were where she had spent the last
several nights.
She flipped back the covers and slid into the bed. As she pulled
them over her head Priss wondered if she was avoiding her new home.

Nene rubbed at her eyes then reached for the box of donuts by her
knee. It was empty. She was a little bothered by the fact she could
not remember eating them all and wished she had been able to take more
time to savor the last one.
She shifted out of her cross legged stance and up onto her knees,
sitting proper seiza style. Her computer screen was showing her the
same garble of letters she had been looking at for nearly seven hours.
She had tried all the decryption keys she had and had not been able to
break it. She had even written two of her own routines in an attempt
to crack it but with no luck. She just did not understand the
encryption protocols on the data.
Two days before she had grabbed the data from a tight pulse packet
the had come from that complex on Spring Island to the Tower. Nene had
been lucky to get it, so she thought. Now, staring at information that
was just useless data taking up space on her disk Nene was rethinking
how lucky she had been. What she needed was the proper key and it was
unlikely that Genom would make getting it easy, or even possible.
Nene put her computer into rest mode, the screen saver, a view of
mount Fuji, came up. In the corner was a small clock telling her it
was seven forty three in the morning. Nene could not believe it. She
had not slept at all.
Getting to her feet she walked over to her windows and pulled the
thick curtains aside in hopes that her computer had suffered a
monumental failure and she had not just spent the entire night working
on a code. The rising sun glowing through the white paper of her
shoji showed her the truth though.
Nene walked to her bed and collapsed upon it. She just wanted to
sleep, for a long time. Unfortunately she had to go to work. Sitting
up Nene vowed that she would do whatever it took to break the code. If
she ever discovered the name of the Genom programmer who had come up
with it, she thought, someone's credit record was going to be
shredded.

No one in the meeting room looked happy to be involved in an early
morning meeting, which was exactly why Domino had called it. Since
Quincy had dropped the problem into her lap, no doubt with a small
amount of amusement, she had been dealing with it and the people
involved almost non-stop. That such a minor and ultimately unimportant
project was beginning to affect her other work angered her, though she
did not show it. She had decided to put an end to it.
"I've read your proposals, listened to your plans and considered
all the information you have given me over the last few days," she
said.
"And have you reached a decision Odotte-san?" Akanori Seiji asked
her. He was one of the top Market Analysts in Genom, an older man,
near retirement, and resentful of anyone who fast tracked. He and six
other senior Genom executives had been working to make their project a
reality for more than six months. Domino had only been put in charge
three days before.
"Yes. The answer is no."
"No?" Seiji looked at her as if he thought he might have heard
wrong or thought she was making a joke.
"Odotte-san, surely you can't dismiss the proposal that easily,"
Nakamura Naoki said.
"You didn't have the time to fully consider it," Anderson David
told her.
"I am dismissing your proposal and I had more than ample time to
consider it. Genom will not reintroduce the 33-S sexaroid boomer."
"But the profits," Seiji told her. "This project has the potential
for enormous profits."
"Yes, for a time then we will be losing money over it."
"What?" David asked her.
"The 33-S was flawed in a way from the very beginning. Ignoring the
use of C-class boomer components we still have to deal with a unit
that will eventually rebel from it's basic programming in all but the
most extreme situations."
"What do you mean? They are just machines," Yamashi John asked.
"In the same way you and I are just machines, perhaps," Domino
said. "but the 33-S was not just a standard boomer. Most of them
achieved human level sentience and sapience upon activation. Their
basic programming was to become what the person with them wanted. They
read body language, considered everything said, generated a number of
possible outcomes and within a very short time were able to become
what the other person wanted. It was almost like telepathy."
"What is the problem with that?" Seiji demanded.
"A 33-S will react to the strongest personality around them. Over
time their own personality begins to develop and becomes fairly
strong. Eventually they become individuals, no longer content to be a
slave race. They want to be free and that is what they will strive
for. This is the problem we will have if we re-introduce the 33-S."
"Surely we could do something about this," John said. "Make them
less intelligent, something."
"And sell a substandard product?" Domino looked at him critically.
"Of course not," Seiji said quickly. "But there should be
something we can do."
"No. What made the 33-S so superior at what it did is what will
cause us problems in the future. A few thousand boomers suddenly
deciding they no longer wish to be slaves is not something that I for
one wish to consider. Also," she decided it was time to given them
something, "Genom is introducing the 33-C Mark 2s within a year."
"A 33-C?" Seiji asked. It was the first he had heard of it.
"An improved model, three basic skeletal frames, and you will be
able to have sex with it," she looked pointedly at Seiji. The man had
not been happy when his 33-S had been taken away from him.
"Will it function like the 33-S?" David asked.
"No, it would pose the same problem if it did. While these will not
be as sophisticated as the 33-Ss were they will be more useful for
other tasks such as bodyguard duty. And while they will not be able to
judge one's tastes as well as the 33-S, all they will need is a little
instruction on what one likes and does not like."
"Will they be as believable as the 33-Ss were?" Naoki asked her.
"It was nearly impossible to tell a 33-S from a real person and not
just the sexual aspect. If I sit down and talk to one of these Mark 2s
will I be able to tell the difference?"
"Yes, but like all boomers with time it will learn, become more
human I guess you could say. The Endoskeleton class' use of organic
material for part their brains ensures this will happen unless steps
are taken to prevent it. I think most of our clients will be pleased
with the new 33-Cs."
"And what was this about 3 skeleton types," John asked her,
sounding interested.
"We will use three mass produced skeletons, female of course. One
taller than average by about 10cm, one about average height and one
shorter than average by about 5cm."
"What about male skeletons?" Naoki asked.
"Possible, but it is still being considered. We have to decide if
there is a market for male boomers one can have sex with. The Mark 3B
C-class boomers were given basic male anatomy which could function as
part of their human aspect. We have not seen an increase in sales of
the model to anyone though. Of course that model wasn't what most
would consider a pleasing sexual partner due to its weight and basic
lack of social graces. Their is still market research that has to be
done. If it appears we can sell a male model we can retool the line
that produces the tallest of the female skeletons."
"And what about combat features?" Seiji asked, realizing he was
not going to get the 33-Ss reintroduced.
Domino hid a smile. She had dealt with the problem in a way that
did not step on too many toes. These men would now happily consider
the new Mark 2s. Domino was not worried about offending anyone, but
she chose to avoid it when possible. She had enough enemies in the
company as it was.

Priss was wearing a pair of wayfarers, faded jeans, a black
sweater, and a long coat that looked like leather but was not. She
walked into her agent's office, took off her sunglasses, and headed
right for the secretary's desk.
"Yamamichi-san wants to see me," she told the woman.
"Sho sho machi kudasai Asagiri-san," the secretary said, picking
up her phone. She tapped one of the buttons on it then waited until it
was picked up. "Asagiri-san de gozaiamasu." She listened for a moment
then nodded and cradled the phone. "She will see you right now."
"Domo," Priss said, heading for the door of Keiko's office.
A moment before she got there it opened and Yamamichi Keiko herded
a young man from her office. "I'm sure everything will be just fine
Taro-kun, we just will have to work at it. Now, why don't you go see
Martens-san and I'm sure you can come to an agreement on the club
dates. If there are any problems just get in touch with Mari-kun and
she will help smooth them out. Ja," she waved and smiled at the young
man who was looking a little confused. "Asagiri-san, so nice to see
you, please come in," she gently took Priss' arm and led her into her
office, then closed the door.
Keiko was shorter than average but had a body builder's figure,
her clothing tight on her. She had black hair, cut very short and
spiked, her eyes were brown. It was unlikely anyone would call her
pretty, but they might say striking instead.
Priss had let her old agent go, knowing he would steal her blind
if she let him. If had not mattered before when she was making so
little money, but that was changing. She had needed a better, more
honest agent, and Keiko had come highly recommended.
"Who was he?" Priss asked as she took a seat.
"Comedian, lot of talent, but tends to upset most of the club
owners he works for. Coffee toka, ocha toka, mizu o ikaga desu ka?"
"Iie, kekkou," Priss said.
"Soka. Saa, hajimashoo. Vision's newest album is doing fairly
well," she walked over to her desk and took a seat behind it. "All of
the work on it has been well received, including the song covers she
did. In fact one of your songs is at about 97 on the top 100 charts in
North America. Pretty good for a Japanese song, though I personally
don't expect it to go much higher."
"Why did you call me here today?" Priss asked bluntly.
"There are several other bands that are planning on covering your
work, you can expect more royalty checks in the near future."
"My bank will be happy to hear that."
"While that is good we have also had some other interesting
offers. Ever heard of "Implosive Connection" or "Daviers 3"?"
"IC is a British group, they are pretty big," Priss said, which
was the extent of her knowledge.
"Daviers 3 is a French group, big in Europe but not well known
anywhere outside of there. Both these groups want to be the first to
record a new song, something you haven't played anywhere. They don't
want to do a cover."
"No," Priss said almost angrily. "I will not write a song and just
give it away, no matter how much they might pay. I'll be the first
person to do any of my songs."
"Honto ni?"
"Honto yo!"
"Saa, wakarimasu," Keiko said.
"Anything else?" Priss asked.
"No, that is it I guess. Oh, feel like playing a formal gig? The
American Ambassador's daughter is having a 17th birthday party and
they want a local band."
"No," Priss got to her feet.
"Asagiri-san, you are going to make it hard for me to make money
off you aren't you?"
"Tabun," Priss said as she headed from the room.

Domino walked into her office suite and headed right for her
private office. "Tadaima," she said.
"O kaeri nasai," the OLs said, almost in unison.
She said nothing more to them and opened her office door.
Haruko was waiting for her. She had taken over many of D's jobs.
While not as skilled or experienced as the boomer she did her job
well. Domino wondered if the young woman might turn on her one day.
She watched for those signs, not about to let one of her protCgCs take
away all she had worked for. At this time she did not doubt her
loyalty.
She wore the same uniform as the other office ladies, but that was
where the similarities ended.
"O kaerei nasai Odotte-sama," Haruko bowed low.
"Tell me what is happening," Domino said as she walked around to
take a seat at her desk.
"Mr. Ambrose was found dead in his pool today," she said.
"Very clean. Very professional. Perhaps you can tell me why these
people behave like complete idiots at one time and then act as pros
the next?"
"More than one?"
"Possible. Anything else?"
"You and Madigan-san have a meeting with the chairman at 11:33am
today."
"Wakatta. Ii da. Get to work on the Vickers Project. I want a
complete report on the man by tomorrow."
"Wakarimasu." Haruko said as she left the office.
Domino leaned back in her chair and thought over the happenings of
the past few months.
Ambrose Danile was a potential lead into the occurrence at Spring
Island. He had been an arms dealer who may have very well supplied the
attackers with a number of high powered, man portable, laser weapons.
She was truly becoming baffled by the actions of these people. At
once both professional and stupid.
When she had found the copy of the retinal and palm prints used to
get "Flex" and "Janet" from their vault she had been sure that it was
just a false lead. No one planned such an elegant operation then
forgot to remove such damning evidence.
They had checked it out anyway and had come up with a name,
Komatsu Seiroku, the man in charge of Genom operations in Brazil.
He was gone by the time the extraction team got to his house,
disappeared, leaving wife and child behind.
Brazil had provided them with a number of answers. It was where
the forces that had attacked had come from. They had been delivered to
the Island aboard a Genom freighter from Brazil. It had shown them a
hole in their security but it was not one that they had ever expected.
Seiroku was loyal, or had been. His Great Grandfather had immigrated
to Brazil, his father had returned to Japan and then Seiroku had been
sent to oversee Genom Operations there having knowledge of the people.
Ten years there and nothing to suggest he had been up to anything.
The armour the attackers had been using could only be considered a
poor knock-off of the Knight Sabers armour, perhaps even based on
Genom designs before they scrapped the project. And only one in ten
had been so equipped. Still, it was that armour, as poor as it had
been, that had made the difference.
Seiroku had used an old Genom factory to build the suits. Where he
had got the money to convert a factory for farm equipment over to one
for the power armour was something that Domino had been trying to
discover for a few weeks. A money trail would be of help in finding
out what was going on, she was sure.
They had finally caught up to Seiroku two days before in Venice.
The man had killed himself before he could be taken. The autopsy
report had provided interesting reading and had shown a link between
what was happening now and the incident with Rathen.
Where did he get the money, Domino thought? He had not embezzled
if from Genom, though he had stolen a large amount of material and
goods. Most of the money from G&B had been accounted for so it had not
come from there. She considered what he had stolen, valuable of
course, but selling it would not have brought him that much.
She sat up and reached for her computer, turning the screen
towards her. She began to type, making the connections and entering
the codes.
Largo had set up nine accounts, each with the equivalent of a
billion yen at least. D had taken a little out of one for the Knight
operation and since then they had not been touched.
Six of them were empty and closed.
"Omoshiroi," she said softly, setting up new passwords for the
remaining three accounts and then laying her traps.
It looked as if she would have some new information for the
Chairman after all.

Madigan and Domino stood in front of the chairman's desk, waiting
for him to acknowledge them.
"Are there any new leads from the Brazil investigation?" he asked.
"We finished tracing all the materials that Komatsu stole. There
are still a number of items missing. Titanium, other metals, boomer
electronics and 3 metric tones of armour grade plastics," Madigan
said. "Our analysts say he may be making more of the suits, or
boomers, or he might just sell it to raise capital."
"You have not provided many answers," Quincy said simply.
"I am sorry sir," she dropped her head. "We are still working on
it."
"Largo had a number of accounts set up all over the world, funds
for his operations," Domino started. "I checked early on to see if he
had stolen from Genom but the funds were not ours. I've ignored them
since then but a recent check has shown that someone has made a number
of withdrawals totaling the equivalent of 9 billion yen. I was unable
to trace those transactions but in the remaining accounts I have set
up trace programs as well as a dummy front. Anyone attempting to
withdraw funds from those accounts will think they succeeded for a
time, giving the programs time to work and report back."
"Why were you unable to trace the funds," Quincy asked. Nothing
about how she knew about Largo's accounts, or why she had not made
mention of them before. He knew the answers and did not care.
"The trail passed through several paper companies before the money
simply was converted from information to currency and disappeared. The
paper companies were set up by other paper companies that were set up,
ultimately, by G&B. That lead will trace out to Mr. Rathen in all
likelihood though it is being checked as we speak."
"Madigan-kun tell Odotte-kun what you told me," he looked over at
the other woman.
"On Dec 14th last year the Genom computer core was infiltrated by
two hackers, one hitting up front, loudly, one coming in quietly. Both
were caught and stopped," she told Domino. "No doubt you know this. At
the same time someone using some old but still valid passwords entered
one of the secure areas and took all the information they could get on
the OMS."
"How much?" Domino was not overly bothered by the fact she had not
been told before. She knew there were things she knew that Katherine
did not. It was the way things were done. Only Quincy knew everything.
"Not much. The passwords access levels had been downgraded as part
of the natural decay protocols. They have a little basic history and
some research notes."
"Whose passwords?"
"Brian J. Meison."
"What about the hacker we caught and followed?"
"He offered no new leads. We took him into custody and questioned
him. He was given the ice breakers he used by an unknown benefactor.
He set one of his acquaintances up to take the blame."
"Odotte-kun," Quincy said. Domino knew it was her turn to give
Katherine some information and she was sure what it was.
"Stingray-Hakase came up with a number of technologies in pursuit
of his boomer work. He devised a way to read information out of the
human brain, he then used much of that information to construct his
boomer AI."
"He also came up with a way to feed information directly into the
human brain. We have kept this information classified and research is
going on for practical applications. Use of this technique causes
characteristic damage to the brain, nothing dangerous or life
affecting but traceable."
"Both Mr. Rathen and Komatsu had scarring in the brain tissue
consistent with having undergone the treatment."
"I think you both have new avenues to search now," Quincy said.
"We now have a better idea of what we are dealing with. You may both
go," he said.
The women both bowed, almost in unison, then turned and walked to
the office doors. They bowed once more before leaving the office.
"How did you know about those accounts?" Madigan asked.
"I obtained a copy of what could be best called Largo's diaries.
How did you discover the access made on the 14th?"
"I have a mandate to monitor everything that goes on in the Genom
computers. After the Largo affair I had my people pay special
attention to anything relating to the OMS. What about this technology
of Stingray-Hakase?"
"You have nothing more to trade," Domino said, heading towards the
elevator.
"Next time then," Madigan said simply.

As Domino took the elevator down she wondered, not for the first
time, how both Komatsu and Rathen had been compromised. She knew some
of it but why they did what they did, that was the mystery. It did not
fit either man's behavior patterns.
So what could make them act in ways so out of character. What hold
could Largo have gotten on them?
The question she had to ask was how would she do it.
Drugs?
Possible but no sign in the autopsies, at least nothing that was
not easily obtainable.
Blackmail?
If so then whatever it was had remained hidden from all the Genom
investigations which seemed unlikely.
Threats to family?
Again no evidence.
Domino stared at her reflection in the glass walls of the elevator
and suddenly smiled. It was so perfect. Just the way she might arrange
things.

The "Shimoyachi Gallery" occupied the first floor of an office
building on the west side of Shinjuku station. It was not one of the
best galleries in the city, but it had a certain reputation and a
number of well known artists let it be a showcase for their work. The
main feature that day was a set of work entitled "100 views of Mount
Fuji". Priss wondered if Hokusai would have approved of the title or
the works.
She could not help but fell a little under-dressed as she entered
the gallery and noticed all the suits and dresses. She had never let
that bother her before though and saw no reason to let it bother her
now.
"Irasshaimase," the woman behind the desk in the lobby said.
Priss put 4 sen on the desk, took one of the brochures and a pen
with the galley's name on it then walked into the showroom.
She stopped at the first poster sized photograph, a picture of the
Genom Tower at night, fully lit up. The new Fuji-san. The illusion was
very strong, with the shape of the Tower and the spotlights,
concentrated on the top, made the black material shine white, like
snow.
The shot was a double exposure, like all the works. The Tower and,
like an after-image, a scene of the AD Police cleaning up after a
boomer battle. In the center of that picture were three shapes,
covered with white shrouds, stained with blood.
Priss flipped open the brochure and scanned it, reading about the
dates both pictures had been taken. Miako Forest had used an old 35mm,
no digital enhancement or any computer tricks were used, for all the
shots in the showing. It was rather impressive.
She walked through the aisles, stopping to look at every picture,
examining it, trying to guess what she had been feeling when she had
taken the pictures. In all cases she had taken the picture of scenes
around the city first, then the shot of the Tower. Different angles,
but all from about the same distance.
After looking at about thirty of the works Priss noticed
something. Any shot of something unpleasant, dead or wounded AD Police
officers, some historic building being destroyed, a shot of a
politician being arrested, the Tower's image was strong. Other shots,
a fire boomer carrying a child form a blaze, some Genom suit
dedicating a park, a group of smiling students, the Tower's image was
fainter.
Priss could not help smiling. It was so simple, so elegant, yet so
telling. It made such a strong statement without being overblown about
it. Some people would never notice it, but she suspected it would stay
with them. A feeling they could not explain, that somehow the Tower
somehow represented the bad things in the city.
She had become interested in Miako since she had first read the
woman's file. They were so much alike in so many ways. A book of the
woman's early work had further intrigued her. It had been shots from
all over the city in the early days of the reconstruction. Crude for
the most part, as had been the book, anything that would make Genom
look bad. Still, there had been something to the work that spoke of
passion. Priss recognized it as being akin to her own early work.
Since then Miako, like Priss, had gone on, her work becoming more
elegant, more beautiful, with her social message hidden in the art and
being stronger for that.
Priss had seen some people in the gallery who wore Genom lapel
pins. She though it both funny and ironic that a print or even one of
the original works might end up on the office wall of some Genom
executive.
She continued to walk along the aisle, looking at each of the
pictures, sometimes circling the number in her brochure. There were a
few that she wanted prints of.
Nearly finished, Priss was brought up short by herself, staring
out from one of the last pictures.
It was from Hot Legs, she was wearing her wig and stage gear,
upper body shot, her guitar in it. Behind her image, looking just as
solid, was the tower. She flipped open the brochure and looked up the
information in it.
The picture of her had been taken almost a year ago. So much for
the 'no cameras' rule at Hot Legs, she thought, looking at herself. It
was untitled, as were most of the works, simply a number eight to
indicate which view it was.
"So, what do you think?" someone asked from behind her.
Priss was caught off guard and turned quickly finding herself face
to face with Miako Forest. She had to remind herself that she had no
reason to really know this woman, and that she would have to be
careful or she might give something away. Her long back hair was drawn
back from her face with two braids. She was wearing a suit like many
of the others in the Galley, though the skirt was a little too short
and the red high heeled shoes clashed with the dark blue material.
She looked very professional.
"Pardon," Priss said.
"Sumimasen," she smiled. "Forest Miako desu. Yoroshiku
onegaishimasu."
"You're the photographer?" Priss asked.
"Yes, and as you can tell, I know you already Asagiri-san," she
pointed at the picture behind Priss.
"Priss to ii desu," Priss said.
"Priss-san. Miako to yondekudasai. So, do you like it," she once
again indicated the picture.
"Omoshiroi yo," Priss turned once more to face it. "Why is the
Tower's image so strong?"
"I'm glad to see you noticed that effect," Miako moved up beside
her. "As to why, I'm not sure. I was going to make it faint, was
setting the shutter speed very fast when I suddenly changed my mind. I
felt your picture needed a strong back drop."
"I've never seen you in Hot Legs," Priss said, unsure how to
respond to her previous comment and wanting to change the subject.
"I don't get out to many clubs that often, shame really."
"Why me?" Priss asked.
"Because I like your music and I like your message and I think
you're very beautiful. The last reason was the most important for me."
Priss was again unable to think of a proper response for that one
so she just looked at the picture and they fell into an uncomfortable
silence for several seconds.
"Would you like to go eat lunch?" Miako asked.
"Pardon?"
"I was planning on going to lunch when I saw you come in. I've
actually been following you, waiting for you to come to this one. So,
would you like to have lunch with me?"
Priss thought about it for a moment. She had nothing important to
do for the next few hours and Miako did interest her. Sylia might be
displeased about it, seeing how they had been considering her for
recruitment but she was not too worried about that. "Okay," she said.
"Come on, I know a great little Italian place about two blocks
away," she headed towards the lobby.
"Why did you follow me?" Priss asked, falling into step beside
her.
"I don't know, I guess it was just kind of fun really. I'm a fan
of your music and I saw you come in here so I guessed you might be a
fan of my work. I wanted to watch you without you knowing the
photographer was watching your reactions."
"Hen," Priss said.
"Chotto," she smiled.
"Do you have prints of your work?" Priss asked, remembering she
wanted some.
"Limited editions. One hundred copies of each, signed and
numbered. Which ones do you want?" she asked as they passed through
the lobby. Miako waved to the receptionist as they left.
Priss opened the brochure and read off the numbers as they exited
the building.
"Should have a few of those left I would think. Chotto matte," she
turned and went back into the building. Priss watched through the
windows as she talked to the receptionist then came back out.
"I have one of each being held for you," she said as she came out
of the building.
"Ikura?" Priss asked.
"Tada yo," she said, walking down the street.
"Dame," Priss told her.
"Shinpai shinai Priss-san. After all, I did take and use your
picture without permission. Consider this an apology or payment."
"All right," Priss said. Miako did have a point.
They arrived at the restaurant a short time later. It was crowded
but Miako knew the staff and they quickly cleared as table for them.
"What's good here?" Priss asked.
"Everything," she said. "I would recommend the antipasto or the
pizza though."
"I think I'll go with the pizza."
"Good choice. Shall we order a large and split it?"
"Whatever," Priss shrugged her shoulders.
Miako ordered their food and some drinks.
They made some small talk through the meal, nothing of real
import, a little about art, a little about the city, a little about
how they had spent their youth. It was an easy, comfortable
conversation that relaxed Priss.
"Would you have dinner with me tonight?" Miako asked, surprising
Priss.
"I suppose," Priss said without thinking.
"Good," she smiled. "You know the Shinjuku station well?"
"I've been through it a few times."
"Okay. Fourth floor. There is a restaurant called "Oishiya" near
the escalators. How about we meet there at about nine."
"A bit late."
"Is there a problem?"
"No, just commenting on it."
"Yokatta. Shall we go back to the gallery now. I can get those
prints you wanted packed up for you."
"Domo." Priss got to her feet.

The back of an AD Police communications APC was, Nene was
surprised to note, rather nice. It was private, there was lots of room
and it did not move much when the people inside did.
Kaoru was seated upon one of the chairs, Nene was seated upon his
lap. She had both her arms around his neck, he had one hand on her
back and the other on her right knee.
The kissing, which had started out rather light, had progressively
grown heavier. Kaoru was feeling a little overwhelmed. The scent of
Nene's shampoo in her hair, the floral cologne she wore with the
underlying hint of talcum powder, the way she felt, it was almost
maddening.
Nene herself was feeling similar, everything about Kaoru was
making her feel very, very aroused.
He slid his hand from her knee up her leg. His fingers slipped
under the material of her skirt. At that moment one of Nene's hands
was suddenly pressing down on his, halting any forward motion. As he
returned his hand to safer territory he might have sighed, had he not
been so busy kissing the redhead in his arms. It looked like he would
be restricted to kissing for a time but that really did not bother
him. With Nene kissing was quite enjoyable.
A while later Nene exited the back of the APC. She felt like she
wanted to take a shower. She pulled at her uniform to make sure it was
hanging right and walked for the elevators.
A minute later Kaoru was leaving the APC, working on his uniform
as well.
From a dark corner two people watched.
"I would have never thought it," Shiroko said she reached into her
pants pocket and pulled out a bill fold.
"I was a little surprised myself," Leon told her, taking a drag
off his cigarette.
"Here's your money," she handed him 2 sen.
"Thank you," he said to the albino.
"Do you think she knows?" Shiroko asked.
"Doubt it."
"You going to tell her?"
"No," he said, throwing the butt to the floor and grinding it out
with the toe of his boot.
"Ah well, first love is such a confusing thing, so is second,
third, etc."
"Tell me about it," Leon said.

Leon caught up with Nene just before she entered their office
space.
"Nene-chan, anything new about those stolen Genom chips?" he asked
her.
"No. Any luck with finding Giovanni-san?"
"None, and I don't think that will change," he told her.
"Do you think..." Nene trailed off.
"Probably," Leon shrugged his shoulders.
"How important is this?"
"Genom is worried, I can feel it. I've never seen Genom worried
before."
"Never?"
"Genom is too big to be worried about anything except something
that can threaten them. Anything that can threaten Genom worries me,"
Leon leaned up against the wall.
"Better the enemy you know?"
"Genom and me are old friends now," Leon smiled. "I understand
them."
"I hope you two will be very happy together," Nene smiled.
"Romanova-Junsabuchoo, since your promotion I think you have
gotten an attitude," he smiled.
"McNichol! Temee! I want to talk to you," someone screamed from
behind them.
Both turned to see Yamano Asako-Keibuho stalking towards them. The
set of her face, with the scar, made her look quite fearsome.
"What did you do this time Leon-san?" Nene asked softly.
"I gave her a present," he said.
"Okay Kichou, what the hell is this," she waved a disk under his
nose.
"That is a 20 Meg disk," he said.
"Yes, and the damn thing is almost full of some of the most
damning evidence I ever saw against Genom. There is enough here to
close four different cases I have been working on, nailing Genom big
time and the real movers in the company, not just the little ones they
have thrown to the lions in the past."
"Well that is lucky for you then," he smiled.
"Damn it McNichol, where the hell is a warrant for this?"
"If I had a warrant I would have used it myself. I thought it
might give you some leads," he flashed her his best smile.
"McNichol!" she screamed as she hurled the disk to the floor then
reached up and grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket. She was
smaller than him but it did not seem to matter. Asako had never let
anyone forget she had once been one of the number one operatives on
the Tac Teams. "When I go to court and the Genom lawyers ask me why I
looked into those leads and I have to tell them that I had a disk full
of illegally obtained information what do you think they will do?"
"Don't tell them," Leon said.
"Yaroo," She slammed him against the wall. It did not really hurt
but it did surprise Leon a little. "I will not perjure myself in a
court. This data is useless to me. It just tortures me. Don't try to
do me any favours, McNichol," she released his lapels and stormed
away.
"Well, that didn't go well. Next time flowers," Leon said.
"She was very angry," Nene said, stating the obvious.
"I should have expected that. Asako does everything by the book.
You have to like that."
"I'm glad she wasn't mad at me," Nene told him.
"Don't let her find out you got that information for me or that
will change very quickly."

Sylia stared at the words on the screen for a moment then shook
her head. She deleted the document and started again. It started out
well, then quickly she ran into problems. It became a thinly veiled
attack against Genom and her father after the first paragraph. Once
again she deleted the work then leaned back in her chair, staring that
the blank document template.
She had to say something at the affair, at least acknowledge it
but so far all she could come up with was either a simple thank you
or a scathing attack. The main problem was that she did not know how
she really felt about her Father, his boomers or Genom, and yet that
was what the entire affair was about.
Her hands poised over the keyboard once more Sylia, was saved by
the sound of Mackie's voice.
"Ne-san," he said as he opened her office door. "Nene-san wants to
talk with you."
"Where is she?" Sylia got up from her desk and turned to face her
brother.
"In the living room."
"Domo," she said, waking by him, then stopped. "Mackie, would you
like to have dinner with me tonight? We could go to 'Manota's'."
"Nani? Honto ni?"
"Is it such a surprise that I would like to have a meal in a nice
restaurant with my brother?"
"No, it's just that it has been a while," he told her.
"All the more reason then," she told him, then turned and walked
towards the living room.
Mackie watched her go and wondered what was on her mind. He knew
it had something to do with the banquet to honour their father, but
exactly what it was was a mystery to him.

Nene was sitting on the couch, a cup of ocha in her hand.
"Konichiwa," Sylia said.
"Konichiwa Sylia-san. Ima de ii desu ka."
"Hai, ii desu. Doushite?"
"I have been keeping an eye on Yamano-keibuho like you asked and
something happened today I think you should know."
"All right. Tell me." Sylia took a seat across from Nene.
Nene told Sylia of Asako's outburst earlier that day. Sylia
listened, letting Nene finish her story.
"So, she is not likely to wish to join a vigilante group," Sylia
said.
"No, I don't think so. If we approached her I think she would just
refuse, but in the future, if we ever made a mistake, I think she
would come after us."
"Yes, I can see that. Saa, shikataganai. Nene-san, did your
Okaasan receive my invitation?"
"Yes," Nene sighed. "And she is taking you up on the guests part,"
Nene looked at her watch. "I have to go soon, we are going out
shopping tonight to get me something 'proper to wear'," Nene said,
imitating her Mother's voice.
"Gomen nasai," Sylia laughed.
"Daijoubu," Nene placed the cup on the table and got to her feel.
"Ja, mata ne."

At another time, in another, simpler life, Sylia had loved
Manota's. Countless times her Father and Mother had taken her, and
later Mackie as well, out to eat there. They had been well known to
the owner and staff, But that had been a long time before. The
restaurant had been destroyed in the quake, and the owner died with
it.
Still, it had been enough of a landmark that someone had built a
new one close to the original site and hired many of the original
staff. The manager still remembered the Stingray family fondly and
both Sylia and Mackie could always count on a table being found for
them and excellent and friendly service. Mackie visited more often to
flirt with the waitresses.
"Do you miss Tou-san?" Sylia asked as she stared at her menu,
trying to decide what to order.
"Pardon?" Mackie looked up from his menu, surprised by the
question.
"I was just wondering, what with being here," she told him.
"I don't remember this place very well," he told her. "but yes, I
still miss him, and Kaa-san. I don't think I will ever stop missing
them."
"Would you like to say something at the banquet then?"
"Yes."
Sylia was going to ask him what that was when they were
interrupted by the waitress. They placed their orders and then Mackie
got up to go to the washroom and Sylia thought it likely he would
spend some time talking to some of the waitresses.
They were halfway through their main courses when Sylia brought up
the earlier topic of conversation.
"What will you say at the banquet?" she asked him.
Mackie was silent for a time. He lay his hashi across the rim of
his soup bowl and sat back in his chair.
"That I love him, that walking through this city, a city that
might still be ruins if not for the boomers, makes me proud that he
is my father, that seeing the names of all the wounded and dead
officers on the wall of the ADP building makes me angry. That's about
all."
"It is more than enough. It says it all."
"What will you say ne-san?"
"Perhaps something similar to what you will say," she smiled at
Mackie.
"So is that why you wanted to have this dinner, to get ideas for
your speech?" he smiled back at her as he reached for his hashi.
"That and I thought it might be nice to spend some time with my
sukebe otouto in a place where he couldn't plant his cameras," she
said.
"I don't know what you mean," Mackie told her.
Their conversation was light and teasing and anyone listening
could have easily mistaken them for just another, normal brother and
sister.

Okami Devon stared out the windows of the restaurant, looking at
the city but not seeing it. Domino watched him, wondering where he
was. She often wondered just how much this man had seen, who he had
known, where he had been. Like most of the people who had founded
Genom his past was locked up, not that she had pried, but she knew
very little about him. He told her things, of his past, secrets he
knew, all of them valuable though few of any use in her day to day
life at Genom. She was not surprised. Devon knew, as she did, that
certain things remained a secret.
"Do you like this restaurant Odotte-kun?" he asked her.
"It is nice," she said, as it was the truth.
"Yes," he said and for a time he was quiet. "There was a nicer one
though."
"Long ago?" Domino asked.
"Long ago," he smiled. "A number of buildings, none taller than
three of four stories, stores and a restaurant on the bottom floors.
Tore it all down to put up a parking garage," he shook his head.
"Three years later the quake hit and leveled the entire city. They put
up a hotel here and put a restaurant on the top floor."
"The more things change," Domino smiled as she quoted the old
saying.
"That is lie," Devon told her. "Once things change, that's it."
"Did you go there often?"
"At one time. My daughter and I ate there a lot."
"You have a daughter?" Domino was more than a little surprised.
"Had," he said, suddenly seeming old to Domino. "She died in the
quake," he looked up at Domino, the sadness passing as fast as it had
come. "So, Quincy-san has my past locked down as tightly as his own?"
"I've never tried to pry into your past," Domino told him.
"Not much there really," he shook his head. "You know, last time I
ate with her was twenty two years ago almost to the day. It doesn't
seem that long."
Domino placed one of her hands on his and smiled. She liked Devon,
liked the way being with him allowed her to forget about the games,
the intrigues, the ploys that she lived by in Genom. In the end there
was no real advantage to being with him. Only the minor players
thought their relationship important and Domino was never threatened
by the minor players. They were beneath her notice.
"So Odotte-san, have you and Madigan-kun discovered the threat to
the company I helped to build?"
"And you say you know very little about the happenings of Genom,"
Domino shook her head. "We are getting closer. We have more leads to
follow then we did before," she was silent for a moment. "Did you know
Komatsu Seiroku?"
"For a time. He was one of my protCgCs, I brought him into Genom
before it was Genom. And yes, I think his betrayal is very
uncharacteristic. He had a lot of useful qualities but ambition and
drive were not among them. It was what doomed him to an ultimately
minor posting in Brazil. He did not have the guts, to use that
wonderful metaphor, to have done this. Whoever this person was he is
not the same Seiroku-kun I knew."
"Omoshiroi," Domino said.
"I'm glad I could be of help then."
"More leads," Domino said. "Should we order now?"
"Let's," he told her.

"So, what's the bad news," Priss asked as she came into the
computer room. Sylia had called her rather suddenly and asked her to
come over.
"Our recruitment prospects," Sylia told her.
"How bad?"
"Anderson Fuyuko, who I never really seriously considered, jumped
from a building three days ago. Genom had it all so tightly tied up
that I didn't find out about it until yesterday."
"Why was Genom involved?"
"Anderson-san was a test case for them. They put a lot of hardware
into her while she was still part of the JASDF, even more after her
crash, it was the reason why I didn't really give her much
consideration."
"I thought she was tough," Priss shrugged her shoulders. "For a
time she was I guess."
"I've also given up on Yamano-san. Nene does not think she would
join."
"So what's the problem with Hiroo-san?"
"Another Genom test case. They did more than question her while
she was in the Tower as it turns out."
"Oh?"
"This doesn't leave this room," Sylia said, sounding more serious
than Priss could ever remember.
"Fine."
"Genom is experimenting with gene therapy for longevity, perhaps
even immortality."
"What?"
"Out of everything they have done and will do this is not one that
I think they would want ever to be leaked out. From what little I
could find out such treatments are hideously expensive and likely to
stay that way."
"So the rich will get to live well forever while the poor die,"
Priss shook her head. "They would bury Genom."
"Which is why Genom would go to great lengths to keep this a
secret," Sylia told her. "Nene and I were luckier than we deserved in
getting this data and getting out clean. Out of all the volunteers,"
Sylia put a slight emphasis on 'volunteers', "ninety percent died
within a year of various cancers. Of the remaining ten percent half
were dead of complications in two. Genom is keeping an eye on those
still alive."
"So scratch Minori-san," Priss took a seat beside Sylia. "How
about we do what both of us want and forget about trying to replace
Linna."
"That would be hardest for you. Without Linna you are the only
front line combatant we have."
"Boost my suit?"
"No, it is already on the cutting edge."
"Use Mackie?"
"In some situations. His suit is more of a long range support
model."
"Let's use the motoslaves more."
"The motoroids lack the precision in their weapons I want. They
increase the possibility of collateral damage whenever we use them."
"Any other ideas?"
"Unfortunately no. I'll refit two of the basic models with the
equivalent of knuckle bombers and blades. I'll upgrade their operating
system, make them fully autonomous, give them a better AI."
"Sounds like you want to make them into Boomers."
"Yes. Nene and I will upgrade the suits operating systems. I think
we should get a slight increase in performance that way. This will
still be hard. We are going from a four man, two combatant unit to a
three man one combatant unit. Are you up to this?"
Priss put her hands together, interweaving her fingers. She the
freed her pointer fingers and placed them together and put her hands
in front of her like she was holding a gun. "Pow," she said.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"Anything else?" Priss got to her feet.
"Nothing pressing."
"Good I have to meet someone in about an hour. Ja," Priss walked
from the computer room.
Sylia sighed once she left. She did not know how much of Priss'
front was pure bravado, but she hoped it was only a small part and the
rest of confidence.

Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers 2034
Fearful Symmetry part 2 of 6
by Shawn Hagen

Bubble Gum Crisis is the property of Toshimutsu Suzuki, Artimic
and Youmex, or at lest it was. This work is in no way a challenge to
those rights. 100% Girl is the property of Murakami Haruki
Thanks to Brian Edmonds and Suika, whose name I will spell right
from now on, Waltz for their assistance in proofreading this work.

Vocab Corner

The Scene: The classroom, as it has always been, maybe in better
shape as the studio carpenters have finally got around to fixing
everything up completely.
Standing in front of the desk is Melpomene, wearing a long toga
with a wreath of laurel leaves about her head. She is looking very
Greek.
"Can't talk much, here is the list of words and stuff, enjoy. Got
to go, I have a wedding to stop. Those planar lords have no real sense
of humour and neither does Shawn at this point," she looks very
worried. "I'm going to get in so much trouble, I just know it," she
says.
Then she disappears.
A piece of chalk lifts up and starts writing on the board.

yakitori - fried bird, usually chicken, served on small sticks.
iro iro - various
eki - station
ganbatte - do your best
ii - good
Moshi Moshi - hello
O suwari kudasai - please sit, (respectful)
dai suki - love
tanoshikata - I enjoyed
hashi - chop sticks
shinpai ja nai - don't worry
tatami - straw mats
chuumon shimashoo - let's order
chotto isogashi - a little busy
matte - wait (abrupt, informal)
shimatta - damn, oh dear
Osokunatte sumimasen - I'm late and I'm sorry
komusume - little girl

Priss rode the escalator up to the fourth floor, leaning lazily on
the railing. She was going to be a little late, but was not too
worried. She was pretty sure that Miako was not going to mind that.
"Priss-san," she heard Miako call as she reached the fourth floor.
She turned and saw the photographer coming out of the elevator a few
meters from the escalator. It was obvious that she was not the only
one who was a little late.
She nodded to the other woman and waited for her to catch up.
"Looks like I don't have to apologize for being late," Miako
smiled. "Hungry?"
"Chotto," Priss said.
"Come on, best yakitori in the city," Miako said, heading for the
restaurant.
They were shown to a table in a small tatami room. Priss sat down
cross legged and leaned back against the wall. "Why did you invite me
for dinner?" she asked.
"I wanted to see if you would accept," she sat down, almost
mirroring Priss. "I wanted to talk to you in a relaxed situation. I am
a fan. I like you, or I think I might. Any of those reasons will do.
The truth is that I am not really sure myself. It just seemed like the
thing to do. Why did you accept?"
"Iro iro," Priss said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, then we are both a little unsure of this," she smiled.
"Chuumon shimashoo."
Both women picked a variety of things and they were served
quickly. Miako had been right, the yakitori was very good.
They talked during the meal, an easy conversation, enjoyable and
simple, mostly about their art and what they wanted to say through it.
Priss found, a little to her surprise, that she was enjoying the night
and the company. She was feeling relaxed, almost at the point where
she might fall asleep, when Miako reached out and placed her hand on
top of hers.
"I really love your music," she said, looking into Priss' suddenly
wide open eyes.
"Thank you," Priss said, pulling her hand free.
Miako might have frowned for a moment, or it might have been a
trick of the light and shadow, Priss could not be sure.
"Have you ever read any Murakami Haruki?" she asked. It was a
simple question but Priss saw something in her eyes, something in her
tone of voice, that told her it was a trap. She should have left.
Instead she said, "No."
"Mid to late twentieth century author. Wrote, among other things,
a short story called '100% Girl'. Are you sure you never heard of him;
he wrote a lot of nice work?" she said.
"No," Priss told her, feeling the trap go tighter around her. She
was held by Miako's stare, the tone of her voice, the questions she
asked.
"It is about this man, he is walking down a back alley street, you
know, the tight little lanes lined with two or three story buildings,
a shop or restaurant on the ground floor of all of them?"
"Yes," Priss said. Tokyo was full of them, as were other cities
throughout Japan.
"Well he is walking down this street when he sees a girl. He later
can't say why, it wasn't that she was especially pretty or anything
but he knew she was his 100% girl. He tried to figure out what to say
to her but couldn't. He knew what he should have said to her, but it
was too long and he doubted he could say it right. What he should have
said is 'I am going to tell you a story that starts with 'Once upon a
time' and ends with 'Now isn't that a sad story?'." she stopped and
took a drink of her beer. "Would you like to hear it?"
NO! Priss thought. "Yes," she said.
"Now, how did that go," Miako looked up at the ceiling for a
moment, looking to be deep in thought.
"Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl. He was 18 and she
was 16. He wasn't especially handsome, nor she pretty. They were the
typical type of lonely boy and girl. However, both of them believed
that there was someone who was 100% for them in the world.
"One day these two met on a city corner by chance.
"'I'm surprised,' the boy said. 'I've been searching for you for a
long time. Perhaps you may not believe this but you are my 100% girl.'
"The girl said, 'It is you who are my 100% boy. Everything about
you is how I imagined. It is just like a dream.'
"They sat on a bench in a park, talking and talking, not getting
bored. They both wanted and were wanted 100% and that was a wonderful
thing.
"In their hearts, there was a moment of doubt and it crossed their
minds as whether in such a simple manner their dreams could come true.
"When their conversation stopped for a moment the boy said, 'Why
don't we test this once more? If we are really 100% lovers then surely
we must meet again. When we meet next time we will know we are 100%
for each other and we will marry at once. Okay?'
"'Okay,' she said.
"The two parted.
"But to tell the truth, there was no need to try that. They were
genuinely 100% sweethearts.
"The wave of destiny was playing with these two.
"One winter of one year the two caught the evil influenza flu that
spread out that year. For many weeks the two bordered on life and
death, wandering between the two. As a result their memories of old
times were completely lost.
"When the two woke from the coma their minds were as empty as
young D.H. Lawrence's piggy bank," she stopped for a moment, tapping a
finger on the table. "I have no idea what that means you know."
"It must have meant something to Murakami-san," Priss said.
"I guess, now where was I?"
"They had just lost all their memories," Priss said, putting
herself firmly back in the trap without thinking about it.
"Right," Miako nodded.
"However the boy and girl were strong, and wise and patient and in
time their many efforts piled up and new knowledge and feelings were
acquired again. They were able to return to society nicely. They could
change stations on subways, post express mail at post offices, things
like that. Both of them experienced 75% and even 85% love.
"In such a way he became 32 and she 30. They were both surprised
at the speed at which time passed.
"So one clear April morning the boy was walking east to west in a
back street of Harujuko for a cup of coffee and the girl was walking
west to east in order to buy some express stamps on the same street.
The two would pass each other in the middle of the street.
"In that instant, a faint light of a long forgotten memory shone
into the hearts of the two people.
"'She is my 100% girl,' he says.
"'He is my 100% boy,' she says.
"But the light of their memory was so weak that their words are
not as strong as they were 14 years ago.
"The two passed without saying a word and disappeared into the
crowd.
"Don't you think that is a sad story?" Miako asked.
Priss could say nothing, the other woman, knowingly or not, had
just pulled a fear deep from her mind, one that she had buried deeply.
"I've never had influenza," Priss said, a last attempt to free
herself from the trap Miako had woven with another man's words.
"Does it matter," Miako reached out and put her hand on top of
Priss' again.
"No, I guess not," Priss said, not taking her hand away.

Sylia sat at the old, scarred desk, leaning back in the chair,
looking down at her palmtop computer. Mackie's words had inspired her,
given her something to think on, had let her finally sit down and
write her speech.
Maybe it was not what Bestar-san had wanted. It was not what Genom
would want. It was not even what she had thought she wanted but it
would suffice.
"Save on hard drive as 'speech1', save on A drive as 'speech1',
exit, shutdown," she said.
A moment later the screen winked out as the computer shut off. She
reached over and shut off the voice command then sat back in the
chair.
It would have been nice to go after Genom in such a public arena.
That was not practical. For all she knew of Genom she could only prove
a quarter of it at best and it was not likely she would ever live to
testify. Or perhaps she would. Genom's lawyers were incredible. When
they could they preferred to simply destroy witnesses in the courtroom
rather than killing them outright. It gave Genom the clean public
image they so desired.
She had come to realize there was very little she could do to hurt
Genom. They were just too big. Too powerful. It was not a new thought
but it was coupled with another. Genom itself balanced out the bad
they did. She had truly looked at the figures for Genom's charitable
donations and had been surprised at how large they really were. While
it was part of tax write offs and public relations that did not change
the billions of yen ended up benefiting charitable organizations
worldwide.
Genom could credit itself with saving thousands, no, tens of
thousands each year.
It was a sobering thought. Sylia cared little for it.
She had also realized that it had been some time since she had
last challenged Genom directly. The number of boomer incidents had
dropped off markedly in the last year. Perhaps Genom had finished
working out all the bugs in their product, or maybe they no longer
needed to test them anymore.
There were still a few boomer incidents, older models, mostly
construction and services models, ones whose owners could not afford
to replace or upgrade. Maybe some were arranged, to justify the
continued existence of the ADP, and to keep the officers sharp. After
all, Sylia thought, the ADP were some of the best trained boomer
combatants in the world. If Genom ever needed someone to help them
test a new security boomer the ADP were the best choice.
And maybe the incidents were just an occasional aberration in an
earlier boomer model. Genom held all the cards and it was so hard to
tell.
Standing, she picked up her palmtop and walked towards the door.
Before leaving she drew the curtains over the portrait.

Domino drove through the nearly deserted streets near Ueno Zoo.
The trains had stopped running a few hours before, there was almost no
one about. The white, four door sedan she drove was one of the few
cars on the streets. The car was ubiquitous, no one would ever look at
it twice.
Normally she would have taken her limousine, she preferred it to
driving actually, but that was not practical that night.
She pulled to the side of the road and shut off her car. She was
not really parked legally, but at that late hour she knew she did not
have to worry about being ticketed. As she got out of the car she
activated the alarms with her key chain control. She pushed the door
closed, hearing the click of the door locks engaging.
Turning she looked across the street at the darkness around Ueno
park. She had a meeting in there. It was a trap. She did not like
walking into them, it had been something she had let D handle. There
were so many reason for her to miss the Boomer she was discovering, so
many things that made her think of her.
She forced her thoughts away from D by focusing on what she had to
do.
Domino knew what was happening in the park, she had sent four
Genom surveillance pods into it. They were feeding real time scans
directly into her brain with wide bandwidth, highly secure channels.
In the last hour a piece of paper had not moved in the park that she
did not know of. It was giving her one of her over-stimulation
headaches.
She took a deep breath, ran through a mental checklist then walked
into the park, soon lost from view of the street under the deep
shadows of the trees.
Once she was within the park she cut the power of the surveillance
pods transmissions so they would go no farther than the park. She had
already pulled the recording gear from them to ensure there would be
no record of what was to happen.
He was waiting for her in the middle of the park, under the
skeletal branches of a cherry tree. A tall man with a heavy coat on
that obscured most of his figure. She could make out little herself
but the pods were letting her see everything as if it was day. Even
better actually.
"Odotte-san," he called out in nearly perfect Japanese. He had a
slight accent, Australian she guessed.
"Yes," Domino said. "You have some information for me?" she asked.
The trap had just been triggered.
"Yes," he reached into his coat with is right hand.
Domino did not give him a chance to pull the weapon free.
He had not expected anyone to move as fast as she did, no one
human at least.
Ducking slightly as she exploded forward, her right shoulder
slammed into the right side of his chest. He had given her a clear
space by reaching into his jacket, raising his arm. She thought she
felt ribs give.
The force of the impact sent him turning in the same direction as
Domino's pass.
As Domino passed him she reached into her jacket with her right
hand, pulling a small .22 revolver from within her jacket. She drew it
free, with the same motion slamming her elbow into the right side of
his face, flattening his nose. Her left hand slid down to the
waistband of her pants, gripping the 9mm pistol there.
She continued her spin, at that point having turned 180 degrees.
Still turning she shot the man three times. The rounds had very little
powder in them, there was almost no noise. She stopped firing once she
had spun 360 degrees. At that point the 9mm was free.
Using the remaining momentum she turned around again, facing the
way she had come.
She walked forward calmly, slowly. The remaining two assassins
would only just be cluing in on what had happened. The pods gave her
their exact locations.
Firing three times she killed the first. Her shooting was dead on.
One chest, one neck and one head shot. The rounds were barely
sub-sonic and the 9mm also had a silencer. There was little noise.
Behind her she heard the sound of the first man hitting the ground.
Firing again, another three shots, took out the last man.
She stood their, alone, but for the wounded man behind her.
Domino turned around and walked back to the man behind her. He was
trying to get up, on his hands and knees. With a broken nose, the
cracked ribs and the three gunshot wounds in his right shoulder he was
not moving fast.
She kicked him in the ribs, close to the cracked ones, careful not
to do too much damage. He flipped over onto his back, trying to get
away from her. Domino put her foot down on his shoulder, pushing down,
grinding her foot over the wounds. She was pleased to note that the
bones had not been broken. Even with the low powder rounds there was
always a chance of increased damage. Shattered bones always increased
the possibility of death.
He screamed before Domino dropped her knee onto his chest and put
her hand over his mouth.
"I'm going to kill you," Domino told him. "Understand that, there
is nothing that could save your life, but I want information from
you," she kept her voice calm and soft. "You can die quick, and clean
and with dignity or I can take you up to the Tower."
He stared up to her, his eyes wide, his breathing fast. The very
things that made a 33-S so desirable could also make them one of the
most terrifying interrogators that had ever existed.
When Domino took her hand from his mouth he began to talk.

Manabe Shoji sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the darkness
around him. He fumbled for a pack of cigarettes and freed one from the
pack. The flame of the lighter illuminated the cheap hotel room,
showed him in the mirror. A scared looking man. The lighter winked out
and he was plunged into darkness except for the glowing ember of his
cigarette.
It would be over by now, he thought, everything would soon be all
right. He and Maiko would have to leave the city of course, the
country in fact, but they had promised to protect both of them.
He got up from the bed and stumbled over to the honour bar.
Pulling it open cast light once more into the dark room. The fridge
was nearly empty, he had drank most of the alcohol in it. He pulled
one of the last beers free and cracked it open.
The cold liquid eased his throat slightly and made him feel a
little more relaxed. He left the fridge door open for the light and
returned to the bed. He put the cigarette out in the ashtray then lit
up another, noting the pack was almost empty.
Two cigarettes later he heard a knock on his door. Two short, one
long, three short. He got to his feet, running to the door. He freed
the locking latch, unlocked the dead bolt and pulled the door open.
Odotte-sama was standing their.
He tried to slam the door but she hit it, forcing it open.
Shoji fell to the floor. He flipped over and began to crawl
towards the bed, to his luggage. There was a gun in one of his bags,
they had given it to him.
The room was flooded with light as Domino flipped on the lights.
She closed the door, locked it and put the locking latch into place.
Shoji reached his bags and began to open them.
Domino walked towards him, moving at an easy pace.
He began to pull his clothes free of the bag, looking for the
weapon. His fingers closed on the cold steel of the revolver, his
finger slipping into the trigger guard. He pulled it free, bringing it
around to point at Domino. His hand was suddenly stopped by Domino's
grip. One hand wrapped around his wrist with a vise-like grip her
other hand held the hammer back as she pulled the weapon from his
hands. Shoji went limp.
"Manabe-san, you set me up," Domino told him. She took a
handkerchief from her pocket and used it to wipe the pistol down.
"Odotte-sama, I didn't, I swear I didn't," he told her, pushing
himself back towards the wall.
"You expect me to believe this?" Domino flipped the cylinder open
and let the shells fall to the floor.
"I'd never set you up. I'm loyal to Genom," he was near tears.
"Shoji," she tossed the empty revolver onto to the bed, "you love
your wife don't you? Would do anything to protect her wouldn't you."
He was silent for a moment then said, "Yes."
"A weakness," Domino told him as she pulled a bug scanner from her
pocket and wandered about the room. "They threatened to kill her
didn't they?"
"I had to," he told her. "I had no choice."
"You could have come to Genom," she said, placing the bug scanner
near the TV and activating the jamming field.
"They told me they would kill her if I did anything like that," he
began to cry softly.
"Shoji-kun, you have to decide where you true loyalty lies," she
took a small motor unit from another pocket and stuck it onto the
rooms only widow, where it set up random vibrations in the glass.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You are terminated from your employment with Genom, I want you
out of the city by the time the first trains start running. You will
of course forget everything you know about Genom."
"Yes," he told her. "I just have to get Maiko."
"I wouldn't bother," Domino said.
"What?"
"You betrayed Genom Shoji-kun, we can't let that go unpunished.
Killing you would have been too kind," she walked to the window. "You
would not have suffered enough," she pulled the motor free.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
Domino said nothing as she picked up the bug scanner.
"You killed her didn't you," he began to cry. "You bitch, you
killed her. Why, she never did anything to anyone," he threw himself
onto the bed and grabbed the revolver then rolled onto the floor and
began to search for the shells.
"Good-bye Shoji-kun," she said, the lights suddenly went out and
he heard the door opening.
His frantic search finally revealed two of the bullets. He pushed
them into the chambers and got to his feet, running for the door. He
leapt out into the hall, looking up and down it for any sight of
Domino. She was gone.
He collapsed to the floor, putting his face into his hands, still
holding the revolver and began to cry. He was lost, everything that
had mattered to him was gone. Genom had destroyed it all.

Domino sat behind her desk. It was still early in the morning, the
sun had not come up yet. In front of her Haruko sat, looking tired. It
had been some time since she had slept.
"I want you to run a check on all these models," Domino pushed a
disk towards the woman. Use all the people you need, I want it done no
later than tonight."
"Yes Odotte-sama."
"Physical checks on all of them."
"All, even the ones that have been destroyed?"
"All."
"Yes Odotte-sama."
"And then, any that are unaccounted for, use them for a search,
people who have entered the country, checked into hotel rooms,
anywhere there might be visual records."
"But..."
"You'll have clearance to use the main computers for this."
"Yes Odotte-sama," Haruko realized how important it was.
"Get things started, put people you trust in charge and then get
some sleep. I want you sharp."
"Hai!" she got to her feet.
"Good," Domino told her.

Sunday January 8th, 6:45am

Priss woke slowly, coming out of dreams she did not remember. She
and the sheets smelled of sex, it even scented the air slightly. She
felt a little sore, the love making had been intense, but in a good
way. It had been a long time as well.
A sound came to her, a clicking. It took her a moment to place it.
A shutter.
For a moment she thought she might have been betrayed, that nude
pictures of her were going to end up in some trashy magazine. She
looked up and saw Miako near one of the windows of the loft. The shoji
were back pushed back and she was sitting on the sill, taking pictures
of something outside.
Priss sat up and found the shirt she had been wearing the night
before. She pulled in on the walked over to Miako.
"You know, I just can't get sunrises," she said, not bothering to
look at Priss. "You would think that something as beautiful as a
sunrise would be easy. Just snap a picture and you have art," she
laughed. "Never that easy though."
"But you keep trying," Priss said.
"I keep trying and I keep failing. Part of the problem is I'm just
not a nature photographer, like," she was quiet for a moment, then
turned to face Priss. "Like Kasuga Takashi. He knew nature
photography," she put her camera aside. "Now there's a sad story."
"What?"
"Nothing, just another life," she smiled then pulled a small,
silver vial from the pocket of her robe. Priss watched as she
unscrewed the cap then pored a small amount of white powder into the
back of her left hand.
"Is that cocaine?" Priss asked, feeling stupid for asking. Of
course it was coke.
"Almost. A designer derivative that some clever chemist came up
with," she told Priss as she brought the back of her hand up to her
nose and snorted some of the powder into both nostrils. "Want some?"
"No," she said.
"Oh come on, they can replace the cartilage in your nose as easy as
breathing these days."
"Where's the shower?" Priss asked, wanting to get away from her.
"Back there," Miako pointed towards a far door, smiling.
"Thanks."
"What are you doing tonight?" Miako asked, she then licked the
remaining powder from the back of her hand.
Priss shrugged her shoulders then turned and walked towards the far
door.
"Want to have dinner then?"
"Maybe," Priss was not sure how she felt about it.
Miako nodded then turned around and looked down at her camera. Not
much use in touching it now that she was stoned, or on her way to
being there. She capped the vial and watched the sun. So damn
beautiful, she thought. One of these days she would get it right.

Priss had left her bike in a parking area in Shinjuku. She had to
take the monorail back there to get it. She managed to hit the trains
right at rush hour. There was a crowd of people around her. Salarymen,
Office Ladies, students, and others, all filling the car, pressed up
against her.
She still was not at all sure about what had happened, or more to
the point why it had happened. It was the story in part. Priss had
always believed in 100% love or true love. It was the artist in her.
She often wondered if she had had it just to lose it. She had cared
for Momoru, perhaps even loved him, but that realization had come soon
before his death and had not done her any good. Then there was Hanako.
She still was not sure what she had been looking for in her. A mother
or a lover? That made her wonder how Shou was, but not for long.
Sylvie. Sylvie who had not even been human. Sylvie who she had
killed. Sylvie who had become so close to her in such a short time.
Sylvie who she might have loved.
She was jarred from her thoughts by the jerking of the train and
the announcement telling her that she had reached Shinjuku Eki.
Pushing through the people around her she made for the open door,
getting out of the car a few moments before the door closed.
She was too busy to think about much as she fought her way through
the crowds in Shinjuku Eki then through the streets as she made her
way towards the lot where she had left her bike. She had not planned
to just leave it for the night and hoped that there would be no
problems. As it turned out the only problem was a rather expensive
parking charge. She paid it and drove from the lot, out onto the busy
streets.
They were damp with slush and a little icy but her tires were the
latest in ice gripping safety. Made by a Genom company she had found
out. It seemed they made everything these days, she thought.
Raven-hakase told her that most of her bike's parts were Genom made,
one way or another.
Driving in the slow moving traffic did not require much of her and
she was free to think again.
Miako filled her thoughts. She was a beautiful woman, intelligent,
creative and they shared a similar past. It was so easy to be with
her, to talk to her, to make love to her. Could she take the chance
and give up what Miako offered? It might never come her way again.
She would call her again, take her up on her offer to do something
that night.

Nene waited near the door by the ladies room, tapping her foot
impatiently. She looked at her watch. He was late. If he did not come
soon she was going to have to go back to her desk. Then she heard foot
steps and Wada came around the corner.
"Gomen, chotto isogashii," he told her.
"Daijoubu," Nene said as she grabbed him and pulled him into the
ladies room.
"Matte, I can't be in here," he said.
"Shinpai shinai, no one ever comes in here."
"Do you know all the places for privacy in this building?"
"I like to take naps," she told him, then went up on her toes so
she could kiss him. Wada had very little to say after that.
It was some time later when both of them exited the ladies room,
Nene first to make sure the coast was clear.
"Where did you learn to kiss like that?" Wada asked as he followed
her towards the elevators.
"Why would I have had to learn?"
"Because not many women kiss as well as you."
"And have you kissed a lot of women?" Nene turned on him.
"My fair share. Jealous?"
"No," Nene said simply. "And I learned to kiss like that in Senior
High School."
"Wish they had course like that in my SHS."
"It was a very nice school," Nene laughed.
"Tonight?"
"Only because you are cute," Nene said as she pressed the call
button.
"Where should I pick you up?"
"What do you say we meet at the restaurant? It would probably be
easier."
"Okay, works for me."
"Then at seven?"
"At seven," he told her, moving close. There was a chime as the
elevator arrived and both moved away from each other. They got into
the car, sliding in-between several other ADP personnel.
Nene liked the way they kept their relationship private. It was
kind of romantic and she did not need the hassle that Leon and the
others would give her if they knew she was dating.

"Nene-chan, do you have that file yet," Leon asked, leaning over
her desk.
"Here," she handed him a disk. "Half the data on that is in code,
and that was even before they encrypted it. The code is some personal
type setup. It uses the names of old movies, the computer had a fit
trying to figure it out. It might be a false lead. Where did you get
it?"
"Can't say. But I don't think it is fake. I'll use what I can off
it. Thanks."
"Just remember that come bonus time Leon-san," she told him.
"Okay, have you found out anything new about those chips?"
"A friend of a friend said that Giovanni-san was last seen being
loaded into a limo by dark suit types."
"So that lead is likely to die out, probably with Giovanni," Leon
said. "Where did you hear this from?"
"A friend of a friend, like I said. I don't know any names."
"Sounds like your contacts are as paranoid as mine Nene-chan."
"Probably all have reason."
"Okay, find out all the Interpol, the CIA, CSIS and MI-6 have on
anything relating to crimes against Genom," Leon said very softly.
"You don't want much do you?" Nene sounded nearly angry.
"I want a lot," Leon told her. "I need it. Can you do it?"
"Yes, but you never heard that from me and come bonus time I want
a car."
"How about one of the Road Chasers?"
"You are kidding?"
"You'll have to wait for bonus time won't you," Leon smiled as he
straightened. "Ja, Nene-chan."
Shimatta, Nene thought. She leaned back in her chair and
considered what she had to do. Interpol was pretty easy, the ADP did
have a low level line into their computers already and Nene knew all
the back doors. MI-6 was a bit tough but she could probably do
something from the Interpol computers. It was possible that those
passwords that Sylia had given her for the CIA computers were still
valid but CSIS was going to be hell. Damn Canadians.

Mackie looked the motoslave over. It was in its motoroid form,
standing in the repair cradle. Sylia wanted them reworked, precision
weapons, better control systems. She herself was programming their new
AIs, something closer to the system in the Typhoon II, in some ways a
little better. He wondered if the motoroids could really make up for
the loss of Linna. In theory there should not be any problems but he
was not sure.
And Sylia, programming a new AI. The old ones, before Typhoon II,
had been very good, but nothing special. These new ones, well his
older sister was finally doing boomer work. He had looked over the
basic outline and was more than a little impressed. They could
probably be better than anything Genom currently had out, but she
would limit them. She had no desire to make the motoroids sentient.
They wanted to be able to turn them off. It was almost a crime in a
way.
The AI work was not his specialty though. He had inherited their
father's mechanical genius but Sylia had that and his talent with AI
systems. Unfortunately for all their brilliance there was little they
could do if they did not want to be working for Genom.
Mackie began to pull the armour from the frame of the motoroid. He
was going to have to make some changes to the skeletal system then
work his way outwards until he was finally able to mount the new
weapons that Sylia wanted. A lot of work.
Pulling the plates off he wondered what he might do in the future.
Go to university, obviously. But what he would study and what he would
do were still mysteries to him.
He wondered if he would find University as boring as he had found
both Junior and Senior high school. He had put up with Junior, it was
compulsory and his and Sylia's guardians would not have let him skip
out. Sylia had not stopped him from leaving SHS, she had just made
sure he wrote the necessary equivalency tests every month so he could
graduate.
Of course university had girls, which was much more than he could
say about that private all boys JHS he had attended. One of the finest
schools in the country and one of the dullest as far as he was
concerned.
But, girls or no, he still had no idea what it was he would do.
There were so many fields open to him, but he was uncomfortable with
some of them. He could easily get an Engineering Masters and design
power suits. No matter what applications he designed them for he knew
that his work would end up being used in combat. He was not sure if he
was comfortable with that.
Medicine was another option. There was a lot of work that could be
done in the cybernetics field alone. Again that led to the possibility
of his work being used for combat purposes.
Mackie was not entirely sure why that bothered him. Maybe it was
because his father's work had been so extensively used for combat and
Mackie knew that was not what he had wanted.
"How is it going?" Sylia said from behind him.
"Just starting the basic modifications," Mackie told her. He had
stripped most of the armour from the motoroid at that point.
"Do you foresee any problems?"
"Unless you want to build new motoslaves we still have some
problems. These were designed for high strength output. I wouldn't try
picking up eggs with one of these and even grasping an unarmoured
person is likely to cause damage."
"We will just have to be careful how we use them sometimes," Sylia
told him. Not really bothered by what Mackie was telling her.
"I have a few ideas of how to increase the performance of my
suit."
"How practical?"
"Very," Mackie said, sounding a little upset. While some of his
ideas in the past had been impractical he had not made any such
suggestions to Sylia in several months.
"All right. Ganbatte."
"Hai," Mackie nodded.

"Usui-san, please, think about this," Katherine said calmly to the
man sitting in front of her.
David Usui was a man, nearing middle age, good looking, and when
it came to true power in the Tower was a no one.
"I'll go to jail," David said, swallowing to moisten his throat.
"With good counsel, and you will have the best, you will do four
years maximum in a minimum security prison. Now I will not lie and say
it will be easy. The prisons in our country are not the country clubs
that one finds in America or other countries, but it will not be bad."
"But the murders...."
"Usui-san," her voice took on a slightly harder edge. "You will
admit to hiring those people, but only for some extortion. That they
committed more violent crimes is on their heads. You will not be
charged as an accomplice."
"But they will say they were hired to kill peop..."
"Usui-san," Katherine cut him off with a sharp tone. "No one in
Genom has ever done such a thing, they have lost control of
situations, but that is it. Remember that."
"Yes Madigan-sama," he said, shrinking down in his chair.
"Now, you have no family to be disgraced by this. Your position in
Genom, forgive me for saying, is as high as it will ever get. It is
one of the reasons it will be believed that you took a chance like
this. If you confess to these crimes you will serve some time in jail.
Afterwards you will leave the country and be hired by one of Genom's
unofficial affiliates. You will spend a few years in a very high
position, then you will retire with a pension large enough to live
anywhere in the world you want quite comfortably. That is the deal.
Now, are you willing to help Genom?"
"This seems chancy," he said.
"All those people on trial have already cut deals to testify
against Genom. We know this, the fact that a group of murderers will
get off easier for their testimony will ensure that you get off. Once
your lawyers reveal that fact to the court you will be fine."
"If I don't."
"Usui-san, if you don't, you don't. You forget this conversation
ever happened and go back to your job. A job that will go no where but
a safe job at least. It is your choice."
He was silent for a time, staring at his feet. He finally looked
up. "Okay, I'll do it."
"Ii," Madigan reached for her phone and tapped in a number. "Moshi
Moshi. Madigan desu. Abe-san?" she waited for a moment. "Yes, Usui-san
will be down to your office soon," she listened for a moment. "Yes,
make sure he is aware of all the facts of the case. I want no one
doubting that he is the one. He will be there shortly," she hung up
the phone. "Usui-san, Abe-san is waiting for you."
"Thank you Madigan-sama," he got to his feet and bowed.
Madigan dipped her head slightly to acknowledge him, then watched
him go. Once he had left her office she got up from her chair, went
over the small bar in the room's corner and filled a glass with ice
water.
The work she had just been involved in, while ultimately boring,
was important to Genom. Every now and then the Company had to throw a
sacrifice to the lions, it was part of doing business. Mid-level
executives, and sometimes even high ones, admitted to crimes, totally
exonerating Genom of any culpability. It kept their name clean and
made sure cases were closed.
She hoped that Kaneda-san might soon die from lung cancer. They
needed a real player to take the blame for a number of crimes that had
come to light and were currently under investigation. The last one to
die had been Meison. After his death Genom had manufactured evidence
linking a number of crimes to him, some which he had actually been
guilty of. A rogue player in Genom, the corporation had not been at
fault.
After his death over thirty cases had been closed. A number of
embarrassing questions never asked. Genom had paid a number of fines
over it, but it was only money and while the public may have cringed
at the thought of those fines, the truth was they hardly amounted to
any real loss for Genom.
It was a lesson for all the true power brokers in Genom. Even in
death you could serve.
Her intercom buzzed, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Madigan reached into her pocket and presses a button on a beeper
like device, "Yes."
"Odotte-san is here to see you," one of her secretaries said.
"Let her in," she said.
Katherine managed not to show any surprise when Domino walked into
her office wearing a dark blue, winter style kimono. It was certainly
an odd choice of clothing but as Domino was not looking concerned
about it so Katherine decided not to take any notice of it.
"Osokunatte, sumimasesn," Domino said.
"Ii, ii. Kekko. Suwatte kudasai."
"Domo," Domino said as she took the chair that David had so
recently used. She arranged her kimono as she sat. "You have traced
the materials?"
"Most," she said. "Someone had set up a factory in one of the old
American space stations."
"The two they are trying to sell?"
"Yes. They were doing zero G work."
"I see," Domino said, frowning slightly.
"Do you think they are building them?"
"We've both seen the lists of what Komatsu stole. The armour
carapace has to be grown in zero G. If the theft of those AI chips was
in anyway connected, and we both think it is, then I can't see any
other conclusion we can reach."
"What do you think they will use them for?"
"That is the truly important question is it not?"
"Have your investigations turned up anything?"
"Nothing as of yet, unfortunately. We are trying to trace Largo's
trail, it might give us an idea of who he compromised. It is proving
difficult."
"I'd like a copy of all your data if possible."
"Of course, I'll have it sent to you."
"Thank you. One more thing."
"Yes?"
"Why is Shoji Manabe still alive?"
"Because I want him to be alive."
"You sent two hit teams after him."
"The first was incompetent. Shoji, other than his loyalty to his
deceased wife, is a very good operative. I had little doubt he would
escape them. The second one would have succeeded had he not been
helped. If he had not been helped I would not have wanted him alive."
"He is bait then."
"Yes."
"He knows a lot about Genom."
"Almost as much as he thinks he does."
"I would have preferred him dead."
"I want him alive, for now. When he is no longer useful then he
will die. He did betray me after all."
"If I get the chance..." she trailed off.
"I wouldn't expect less. Don't expect me to share my information
on his location."
"Understood,"
"Odotte-san?"
"Yes?" Domino asked as she got to her feet.
"Why are you dressed like that?" Katherine asked, her curiosity
finally coming to the fore.
"The chairman has asked me to serve tea today," Domino said, for a
moment one of her rare, as far as Katherine was concerned, amused
smiles crossing her face. It made her look like she was sixteen.
"Why?"
"I didn't ask. The Chairman has his reasons. He always does."
"Shitsurei shimasu," Domino bowed slightly then left the office.
Katherine wondered what Quincy was up to. He always had his
reasons, though she wondered if it might not be the woman's charms.
Quincy was human after all.

Priss down-shifted, slowing her bike, leaning into the curve. As
she came out of it she twisted the throttle and shot out in front of
the man on the big 1200 Genom Ookami. She waited until her engine was
screaming then shifted up and twisted the throttle again. Her bike's
engine was not as big as the Ookami, only 750cc, but she knew how to
use it.
It was dark, evening coming early even though the days were
getting longer, the streets were treacherous, and the bikes were
moving fast. She had not done anything like it in almost three years,
back in her gang days. Miako had suggested it. Cruising the dark
streets on their bikes, looking for trouble.
She remembered riding with Sylvie. It had been nothing like this.
It was almost as if she and Miako needed something to spice up their
time together.
Her thoughts were quickly forced back on the impromptu race by a
Kawasaki Ninja pulling up beside her, attempting to pass. She shifted
up again, gunning her engine, pulling ahead again. Her tires slipped
slightly on a patch of icy ground but she kept in control. In her
rearview mirror she saw the Kawasaki go down. It did not look too bad,
the rider managed to take it down under control.
Just like old times, Priss thought, not sure if she was happy
about that.
Several minutes later, just as they were heading out of Roppongi,
heading towards Shibuya, when Priss heard the sirens. It was about
time, she thought.
She looked into her rearview mirror, seeing the flashing lights,
they were some distance behind but closing.
She hit her brakes, turning at the same time, bringing her bike
around 180 degrees with the quick maneuver. She drove back the way she
had come, weaving in-between the other motorcycles, looking for the
red and white Little Wolf that Miako was driving. She spotted it near
the rear of the pack. Lifting her right hand she waved, hoping the get
her attention. After several seconds she turned sharply to her right,
heading down one of the side streets. She noted that Miako followed
her.
The two bikes whipped down the street, causing some of the walkers
on the street to leap to the side. A number of curses and shouts
followed after them but Priss did not waste time being concerned about
it. She had to figure out how to outrun the police. On her own it
would be easy but with Miako it was going to take some work. It had
been some time since she had ridden the shortcuts, but she still knew
where they were.
She found herself actually enjoying herself. The race had been
stupid and juvenile, but things were getting interesting. If she was
caught they would pull her license for sure. It added the necessary
element of risk.
Checking her rearview mirror to make sure Miako was close, and
noting the flashing red light of a police bike, she turned into an
alley, scattering empty cigarette packs in her wake.

Nene was a little surprised by Wada's car. The Mitsubishi Diamate,
one of the high end models and she would have thought it beyond his
salary. It was a nice car though, and the seats did recline quite a
bit.
Dinner had been enjoyable, the restaurant nice and now they were
relaxing a bit. While Nene had often been the first one to call
parking juvenile she also had not had a chance to engage in it before.
The car, even with the seat back, was a bit uncomfortable, but there
was something about it that she found a little exciting.
Wada's hands moved down her back, stopping at the waist band of
her skirt. At that point most of the buttons on her blouse were undone
and it seemed the fastenings of her skirt were to follow. For several
seconds she said nothing but suddenly pushed away from his slightly,
breaking their kiss.
"No," Nene said.
Wada stiffened, she thought he might get mad, then he relaxed and
moved off to the side.
"Not going to make this easy are you Romanova-san," he smiled.
"Just that in a car, it's not very romantic."
"There are a number of love hotels in the immediate area," he told
her.
"Is that why you picked it," Nene laughed as she began to tuck her
blouse back into her skirt.
"One of the reasons. Do you want me to take you home now?"
"I do have to work tomorrow," Nene said. "It's not that I did not
enjoy tonight, I did, but things got a little too fast."
"Oh well, I can take it slow if I have to," he raised his seat and
put his seat belt on.
"Wada-san dai suki," Nene said.
"One of these days you will have to prove it," he smiled and
started the car.
"You don't have to prove love," Nene said.
"That's not a statement I would argue with," he said.
"Smart man," Nene told him.

Her father was in the living room when she came in. Makoto looked
up from his paper and smiled at his daughter.
"Nene-chan, fun evening?"
"Hai Papa. Tanoshikatta," she told him.
"One of these days I'd like to meet your friends."
"I'm afraid if I bring them over that mama will give them a
grilling."
"She probably would," he laughed softly.
"Where is mama?"
"Sleeping. She was busy in the operating theater all day," he told
her, a grimace of distaste on his face. Makoto disliked the thought of
blood and surgery more than his daughter did.
"Ready for the big night?"
"It is more your kaasan's night than mine, she's the one involved
in the related work."
"Ever thought of doing AI work Papa?"
"Never. You have to have your head in an entirely different place
to work in that field and succeed. I'm happy with what I do."
"I think it is kind of exciting to be invited to a ceremony like
this."
"Well, it will be interesting."
"Maybe boring?"
"Do you understand a lot about boomers?"
"No."
"Then it will be boring komusume," he reached over ruffled her
hair.
"Tousan!" Nene said, pulling back so he would not make a bigger
mess of her hair.

"Where the hell are we?" Miako asked.
"Somewhere in Roppongi," Priss said, pulling her jacket tighter
around her.
"I haven't been lost in Roppongi in a long time," Miako laughed.
"I didn't say we were lost."
"Where did you learn to drive like that?" Miako asked her.
"Around," she said. Out running the THP cop had not proven to be
too much of a task. Whoever she or he had been the driver had not been
too up on the layout of the city.
"Well, wandering around Roppongi beats being ticketed by the
cops," Miako laughed.
"Let's try that place out," Priss said, wanting to get out of the
cold.
A neon sign that was one of the brightest in the area proclaimed
the place Priss had chosen as "Bar Isn't It?".
The place was packed, a lot of foreigners, not that it was easy to
tell who was foreign in Japan, especially MegaTokyo as of late. Still
the buzz of conversation was predominantly English. Roppongi was a
great bastion of Western civilization looking for a good time.
Priss and Miako managed to get a space near the bar, with a little
use of elbows and in one case, knees. It was rude but neither were
feeling particularly diplomatic. They ordered the 500yen cocktails and
then leaned back, watching everything, getting into the flow of the
place.
It was hot, Priss opened her leather jacket and undid the top
buttons of her blouse, she was beginning to sweat. Miako pulled her
jacket off and tied it around her waist with a bit of work. She then
pulled off the T-shirt she was wearing leaving her only in her black
camisole. No one noticed, many people were dressed much more
provocatively.
Eventually they got into the ebb and flow and made their way out
onto the crowded dance floor, or at least the short stairs that led
down to it. The music was boring, the sort of stuff you heard almost
anywhere you went. Priss did not care for it.
A few people recognized Priss, and some recognized Miako as well.
Miako went off to a dark corner with two big guys and Priss was pretty
sure was buying drugs. Miako's wide eyed, wired look when she came
back confirmed it.
Some time later Priss wondered why she was not enjoying herself.
It had not been all that long ago that spending the entire night in
one of Roppongi's bars was what she considered a perfect evening. It
was not that she was no longer up to it. She did not feel tired at
all.
Damn it, she thought. She ordered another drink and after tossing
it back she fought herself out onto the dance floor, looking for
Miako. She was going to enjoy the evening no matter what happened.
She did, but it all felt forced to her.

Monday, January 9, 5:32am
Priss poked at the soba in the bowl in front of her with her
hashi. It was early in the morning, the sky beginning to lighten. The
taxi cabs were beginning to move along the streets, honking to clear
the sleepy people from their paths. Crowds were moving towards the
subway and train ekis, heading home then most likely to offices and
jobs and schools. She had a rehearsal with the rest of the band
sometime that afternoon.
She wondered about the rider of the Ninja. She assumed he had
taken his bike down safely, but she really did not know.
"Let's go," she dropped her hashi and got to her feet.
"Yea, this night's dead and gone," Miako said.
Priss nodded, knowing how she felt. Until she actually got some
sleep she would still consider this to be Sunday.
They made their way back to their bikes, unlocked them and started
them up. Priss was a little drunk, but only a little. Miako was still
stoned on whatever she had taken back in the bar but, it did not
effect her driving.
Once they passed a police car, but the occupants did not seem too
interested in the two bikers. After they made it to Miako's loft they
collapsed into the bed. While they attempted to make love both were
too tired and soon they were asleep, arms and legs tangled together.

Bubble Gum Crisis
2034 An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers
Fearful Symmetry part 3 of 6
by Shawn Hagen

Bubble Gum Crisis is the property of Toshimustu Suzuki, Artmic and
Youmex .This work is in no way a challenge to those rights.

My thanks to my proofreaders Brian Edmonds, the new RAAC
moderator, (cool eh?) and Suika Waltz, who sent me a postcard with an
Albino alligator on it.

Vocab Corner.

The scene, the familiar classroom that we have all come to know
and love.
Sitting behind the desk is Melpomene, reading from a rather large
book. On the cover is written 'Tobin's Spirit Guide.'
Shawn is standing beside the desk, watching the Muse. Both wearing
the overly cute school uniforms that we have come to know so well.
"Okay, curses, here we go. Says there are four ways to deal with
them," the Muse says.
"Okay," he, er she er, well whatever, says.
"Number one, kill or destroy the agent responsible for the curse."
"Sounds good to me," she, if only to avoid mixing pronouns,
cracked her knuckles.
"We've already been through that and while you might enjoy
pounding on me for a bit it won't help either of us."
"What's 2 then?"
"Find a wish giving agent and simply wish the curse away."
"Okay, let's go."
"Problem."
"Yappari. What?"
"Well, the Djinn went out on strike about six centuries back and
none of the other wish givers have been willing to cross their picket
lines, except the magic fish. And after the Bill Gates incident, well
the magic fish are not giving out wishes anymore."
"Wonderful. 3."
"Three is good. You accept your curse, live with it and in so
doing realize it for the blessing it is."
"Your making that up," she reaches for the book.
"I'm not, it is written right here."
"Listen, I am not going to accept this. My clothes don't fit
anymore, my bike is too big for me and the toilet seat is giving me no
end of trouble."
"Uh huh," Melpomene says with the look of one who had heard more
than she wanted to, but haven't we all.
"What's 4."
"Wait for it to wear off."
"Okay, and how long might I be waiting?"
"Well, Prometheus is still chained to that rock and that was back
in, hmmm, I'm not sure really. I know it was a Tuesday because I was
getting my hair done."
"Just great."
A sudden coughing like noise causes them both to look at the
camera. Melpomene tosses the book over her shoulder and jumps to her
feet.
"Hi, I am your genki and kawaii Muse of Tragedy, and this is my
less than genki but still kawaii assistant Shawn."
"Bite me," Shawn says.
"That's bite me Sempai."
"Why do you get to be the Sempai?"
"I'm several thousand years older than you."
"You look it to."
"That's gratitude. Should have let the marriage go through. Here,"
she hands Shawn a piece of chalk. "Start writing."
Shawn begins to write on the board, all the while muttering darkly
about Muses and Greek society and bathroom fixtures.

Kyouiku Mama - Education Mama, a mother obsessed with their children's
education.
Pasocon - Personal Computer.
Miko - Shinto shrine maiden.
Kampai - a toast, like cheers.

"Genom is very generous," Sylia told Justin, looking about the
restaurant. It was one of the better establishments in the city, and
one of the most expensive.
"They aren't paying for this," Justin told her.
"Not directly," she said.
"Is there any particular reason you are acting like this, or is it
just a general dislike of me?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Bestar," she said. "I'm still not completely
pleased with this."
"I've looked at the people you invited. An interesting mix."
Sylia nodded.
"Going to tell me what you are going to say in your speech?"
"No."
"Ah well, tomorrow is the big night," he said.
Sylia suddenly realized how much it all meant to him. He really
cared about the ceremony.
"I hope it all works out well," she told him.
"So do I. Oh, some of the senior executives at Genom asked me to
extend an invitation to you. There is going to be a dinner party at
the Tower tonight."
"Could you extend my regrets?"
"Of course."
"Do you think my father liked Genom?"
"He worked with them, he needed their support and funding but
like? Maybe. He never said anything bad about them that I heard."
"What do you think of Genom?"
"Darwinism in the financial field. Genom is the most successful
predator in the business community at this time. I didn't like selling
out to them, but I had little choice really. They made the best
offers. It's the way things are," he shrugged his shoulders.
"Do you like them?"
"I can't like or dislike a company of that size. Some of the
people I know in it, I like. Its way of doing business, well, there
are some things that leave me cold."
Sylia nodded. "What about all this security?"
"That is Genom's idea. A number of their big shots will be there.
Maybe even the Chairman himself. They want to make sure everyone stays
safe. It won't be that obtrusive, unless something happens. And if
something happens we will be glad for it."
"Do they think that something will happen?"
"Sylia, you sound very paranoid. Genom is a company that always
stresses its security. One of the first thing they did when we became
partners is upgrade the security for all my holdings. They are just
security conscious."
"No honour among thieves," Sylia murmured.
"Pardon?" Justin asked, not having heard her.
"Nothing. I'd like to thank you for lunch and apologize for
leaving so soon," Sylia got to her feet.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," he stood.
"Good afternoon," Sylia said, then turned and walked away from the
table.

When Norio missed his cue for the third time Priss hit her guitar
strings hard, the discordant notes filling the room with angry noise.
"What the hell is wrong with you," Priss turned on her guitarist.
"Are you drunk or stoned?"
"Cut me some slack," he told her. "I got a cold and a fever and
feel basically shitty."
"Okay, that's it, we'll call this now," Priss lifted her guitar
and pulled the strap from around her neck. "Norio, tell me when you're
better and we'll get back to work."
"Right," Norio said.
"What about the gig tomorrow?" Yuuko asked.
"We play it, if Norio can't make it we'll improvise," Priss put
her guitar into its stand.
"Three pieces? That will be a change," Takeshi said.
"Ever thought about getting some horns into the mix?" Yuuko asked.
"Why?"
"No reason, just a thought."
"I have enough trouble with the four of us," Priss told her.
"Can you give me a ride home?" Norio asked Takeshi.
"Yea, no problem,"
"Thanks," Norio said as he followed the drummer from the room.
"Mind if I hang here for a bit?" Yuuko asked Priss.
"No. Why?"
"Leon is coming to pick me up. I didn't think the rehearsal would
end so soon."
Priss nodded as she walked from the room, Yuuko behind her. She
shut off the lights as she left.
"This place is huge you know," Yuuko grabbed her jacket from a
rack by the door and put it on. Priss did not bother heating the
majority of the space in the old factory. After the warmth of the
rehearsal room the factory floor was uncomfortably cold.
"I know," Priss told her.
"Great place for a party you know."
"Who would I invite? I'd have a hard time filling up this space
unless I just opened it to anyone who wanted to come. Those kinds of
parties destroy places."
"You sound like you're being responsible," Yuuko taunted.
"Urasai," Priss told her, with no real venom though. "Come on,
let's go up into the heated rooms, have a beer or something."
"Hai," Yuuko said.
Priss led her up the stairs into her living rooms. They sat in the
kitchen, drinking Asashi and talking about music and nothing in
particular for the most part.
"Ever miss the old days?" Priss asked her.
"Old days?"
"You know, before order came back, when you had the gangs running
around, being annoying."
"Actually, I was in Kyoto being a good student. I haven't been in
MegaTokyo long enough to have been involved in any of that. Do you
miss it?"
"I don't know," Priss said honestly.
"It couldn't have been that great. Norio doesn't say much about
those days and Leon is pretty bitter about it all sometimes. Not that
he talks about it all that much."
"Great? No. Easier? Probably."
"I like things the way they are now."
Priss nodded.
"Shitsurei shimasu," Yuuko got up and headed in the direction of
the bathroom.
Priss watched her go then got up and put the empty beer bottle
into a plastic case by the refrigerator. She was thinking about
opening a new bottle when her door buzzer sounded.
"Great," Priss said, heading for the door to the stairs. Another
problem with all the space was how long it took to get around.
Fortunately, who ever it was was at the rear door which was that much
closer to the stairs.
She looked at the monitor by the door. It was Leon.
"Yuuko-san is upstairs," she said as she opened the door.
"Priss-chan," he gave her one of his best smiles. "Isashiburi ne?"
"Not long enough."
"Itte," he still smiled. "Nice place you have here. Glad I finally
know where you live."
"Feel free not to drop by," Priss closed the door and walked
towards the stairs.
"What were you up to last night?" he asked.
"Why?"
"THP and the police had a bit of a problem on their hands.
Motorcycles racing through the city. You know, one of the bikes that
got away was an interesting model, according to the officer who lost
it. Said he had never seen one like it before," Leon looked over to
where Priss' bike was, "and the rider was amazing, knew the city well.
This rider even doubled back to help a friend get away."
"So?"
"You want to lose your license?"
"They have to catch me first."
"They have before."
"Only because I trusted some idiot to get me out of a ticket."
"You were breaking the law."
"What are you two talking about?" Yuuko called down from the head
of the stairs.
"Nothing important," Priss said.
"Leon-chan, what are we going to do tonight?" Yuuko said in a sing
song voice as she skipped down the stairs.
"Shibuya?"
"Perfect. Priss want to...."
"No. But thanks."
"Okay. Leon?"
"Ikimasho."
Priss showed them to the door where Yuuko let out a small scream
of delight. Leon had brought his Road Chaser. Priss could understand
the woman's feelings. When it came to things on four wheels there were
few, if any, that could beat it. It still was not a bike though.
"Ja mata," Yuuko said.
"Ja," Priss said, closing and locking the door.
She climbed the stairs and went into her living room. It still had
the windows that looked out over the factory floor. She lifted up a
remote and brought the lights throughout the building up to full. The
floor before her was illuminated in the stark light.
Gray, cold concrete floor. The cracks, testimony to the quake, had
all been sealed, but the sealant was a different shade of gray and
stood out. The high walls, the ceiling with its support beams creating
shadows even the lights could not touch. Not quite a welcoming home,
but Priss did not mind.
In a way she had always wanted something like that, maybe a little
smaller, but the old factory was a nice, if impractical and expensive,
place to live. She liked it, or thought she should.
It was a sign of her success, in a way. Her songs were good. True,
she would not have been able to buy the place without Sylia's help,
but it was her money, generated by her work. She was proud of that.
Why did she not want to admit it?
Not so long ago she would have been happy to have a house warming
party that would have packed the place. Invited everyone from Hot Legs
and anyone else she happened to meet. Now she just did not see the
point. Still, a smaller party might be in order.
She dimmed most of the lights and turned, taking a seat on one of
the couches. Reaching over she took up her guitar, the old one.
Priss had learned to play on a battered acoustic that had been at
the orphanage. She had learned the ins and outs of the instrument, one
of her teachers had showed her how to play it with a slide and a few
other tricks. When she had left she had wanted to take it with her,
but had left it, for the next orphan who wanted to learn to make
music.
The guitar she held had been bought several weeks after leaving
the orphanage from a second hand shop. She had worked a number of bad
part time jobs to get the money. It meant a lot to her.
Strumming it she began to tune the instrument. It had been months
since she had last picked it up. As the strings slowly came back into
tune she took the pick from the head and began to run through simple
exercises, remembering her first experiences with the instrument.
I have to pick up a new slide, Priss thought suddenly as she began
to play some old blues music.

Night brought a light show to the Tower. The powerful spots
lighting it up, points of light from windows, elevators, doors,
winking in and out as if it were some giant obsidian Christmas tree.
Aircraft flew by it, vehicles climbed the road that circled it, a
ballet of light.
Near the base people stared up at it. Tourists mostly, but even
long time citizens of the city sometimes reacquainted themselves with
the structure that had come to dominate the city's skyline.
The Lonely Planet guide to Japan, and a number of other guide
books, said that the Genom tower at night was a sight not to be
missed. Every evening saw gathering crowds as people watched one of
the wonders of the modern world take on its nighttime appearance.
A kilometer from the Tower, on top of a ten story building, a lone
figure watched the huge building. It was the first time he had ever
come to the city, but he had seen it before in a way he still did not
completely understand. He was a tall, slim man with long brown hair
that went below his shoulders. He had sharp features and narrow eyes.
A cold wind caught his coat and hair, giving them a semblance of
life for a moment. Douglas Meren shivered in the wind that cut through
the sweater and jeans he wore. He did not like the city. He did not
like the Tower. He did not like the pain in his head, the nightmares,
the compulsions and what he did. At the same time he loved them.
He no longer was sane. He knew that, but somehow it did not
matter. There was a certain liberation when one gave up the tight
confines of sanity. He felt more alive then he ever had in his life
before. It was odd then that he wanted to die. That was the way things
had been since the cool caress of those long, beautiful fingers had
burnt into his mind. And he still loved him which was the oddest thing
of all.
Not that Largo had ever loved him. No, there had never been a
chance of that. Largo's love had been tied up and a twisted, viscous
circle with HER. But he had feigned love well for a time, his perfect
body, his beautiful, cruel face with eyes that saw into one's soul.
Douglas felt himself get hard, his tight jeans pressing on his
erection. It was an enjoyable feeling, as were the memories.
And while Largo had left him he had given him a gift. A gift to
keep him loyal to the cause, to chase away the nightmares and
sometimes to make him forget. His mistress and slave.
Later he would find a prostitute--some young man with the right
features, but for the time he was happy to stand atop the building in
the cold wind, staring at the Tower. For a little while, as the wind
whipped his hair about, he considered going to see Rei but he would
not. He took her where ever he went but he tried not to spend too much
time with her. She represented everything about his life that he
hated. But he couldn't bear to be far from her.
He hated and loved her at the same time. In a way he could not help
but feel that was proper.
Tomorrow, he turned his thoughts away from Rei. It would happen
tomorrow. There was a delightful irony in that that Douglas did not
miss. Things would be over soon. One way or another.

Makoto Romanova walked up the short walk to his house, looking
through his keys for the one to the front door. He found it, unlocked
the door and opened it.
As soon as it opened he was treated to a blast of noise, his wife
yelling.
"And do you want to be stuck there your entire life?" Ali yelled.
"Maybe," Nene's voice was almost as loud.
Makoto sighed as he stepped into the genkan and began to remove
his shoes. Never a good sign when both started yelling.
"What do you mean maybe?!"
"Well it is my job. I am doing all right at it."
"It's a hobby!"
"A hobby! I help people."
"So do garbage collectors, next you'll want to do that," Ali said,
dropping her voice a little, putting the right bit of bite into to. As
Makoto took off his shoes he could guess what was going to come next.
"Kyouiku mama," Nene yelled.
"Komususme," Ali replied.
Nene walked from the living room with long, angry strides. Making
for the stairs.
"Tadaima," he said to her.
"Okaeri nasai," Nene snapped, not even looking at him. She stomped
up the stairs to her room.
Not good at all, he thought, stepping up into the house and his
slippers.
"Tadaima," he said, walking into the living room.
"Can you believe her?" Ali turned on him.
"What is it this time?"
"She is thinking of putting off university to stay with the AD
police," Ali was livid.
Makoto sighed, this was going to take some work to defuse. "Well,
she did get the promotion," he said.
Ali's head snapped around, she stared hard at him.
If looks could kill, Makoto thought. "I'm not saying I want her to
stay there, but if we both come down on her without trying to see her
side of it she might just leave again. Do you want that?"
"No," Ali said, calming down a little.
"Do you think Nene would be happier with the AD Police?"
"No, not in the long run."
"Odds are that she will realize that herself soon enough. She's a
smart girl."
"And if she doesn't?"
"We kill her and start from scratch," he walked over and kissed
his wife.
"We should have had a few more children you know," Ali said after
the kiss. "Would have given us some spares."
"Still time," he smiled.
"Ecchi," she said fondly.

Nene walked about her room with short, angry movements. All she
had said was that she might want to stay with the ADP for another
year, put university off for a little while. Her mother had simply
exploded. Nene wondered why she had been surprised.
"Mama no baka," she said, walking to the door of her room and
locking it.
Turning her attention to her computer she knelt down to the tower
cabinet under her desk and typed in the code to open the lock. Pulling
out a set of I/O cables she plugged them into her tape drive and began
to back everything up.
Standing she pulled the nylon gym bag from her bed, then sat down
seiza style and placed the bag in front of her. There was a small lock
on the bag that she opened with her thumb print. Inside were several
manuals and a number of boxes.
By the time she had sorted everything out the hard drives had
been backed up. She pulled the I/O cable free then retrieved her
electronics tool kit from one of her desk drawers. Nene was about to
start removing the hard drives when she stopped and got up, going the
her closet. She pulled the door open and removed a number of boxes
from the top shelf and tossed them to the ground near the tower
cabinet.
After grounding herself she quickly and efficiently removed the
hard drives with the look of one who had done it many times before.
She packed each drive into one of the boxes, scribbled some notes on
the side then placed the box off to the side.
That done she began to put the new drives into place. There were
of a slightly different style than the ones she had just removed so
she had to fool around with the mounting brackets a little bit to get
them to fit.
Finally finished Nene leaned back and looked over her work,
satisfied. She plugged them into the tape drive and dumped all of her
files back onto one of the new drives. She had just increased her
storage by 10 times. Rather impressive. What was more impressive was
that she was going to end up using more than half that new space.
Once the tape drive had finished she reached up for her keyboard
and began to run the computer through its paces, looking up at her
screen to make sure everything was well. She left the computer running
a self-diagnostic and reached for the last two boxes.
The first one contained a simple, on the outside at least, gray
box, a little bigger than her hand. She put that aside for the second
box which contained fifty CD disks, each the same size of her palm.
Her CD ROM driver was a multiple slot system, Nene had never
liked waiting any longer than she had to. She loaded up the first 10
disks into the slots and ran the install program.
The screen lit up with information, a few prompts she had to
answer then everything began in earnest. Files were expanded at a
rapid pace and put on the hard drives. As a red light flashed to green
above the disk slots Nene would remove the CD and put a new one in.
Thirty minutes later the computer ran the last check on the new
software and reported back to her that the installation was complete.
Nene packed away the disks, then closed and locked the tower cabinet.
Picking up the last packing box Nene got up and took a seat in her
desk chair. She removed the gray box and placed it in front of her.
Simple design, sharp edges, four screws along the bottom, an I/O port
and a power socket. She knew if she opened up she would be presented
with solid state circuitry, all of it black box type stuff.
It had been designed by the Canadian Air Force for encryption and
decryption. Ten had been sold to the Israelis for favours not
mentioned. Sylia had acquired one of the ten and gave it to Nene along
with the fifty disks of software that had been written for it. All
cutting edge.
Nene reached out and put her hand around a mamori hanging from her
monitor. She had picked it up from the Meiji shrine. It was a general
good luck charm. She had another one hanging on her modem line, it was
for easy delivery. That was a bit of a joke.
After shutting her computer down she reached into a nest of
components under the monitor, almost all there for camouflage as few
of them were actually attached to the computer. She removed what
looked like an external hard drive. The case in fact was for an
external hard drive. It had been almost two years since it had
actually held one.
She opened the case and removed her old IC breaker, disconnecting
it from her computer. She placed it carefully aside then began to
install the new one. She had to search through her desk drawers to
find an I/O plug that would fit it and hooking it up to the computer's
power supply was more work than she would have thought, requiring the
inclusion of a step down transformer.
Finally done she closed up the casing and slid it back into the
nest of components.
Nene pushed herself and her chair back slightly, bowed her head
and clapped her hands twice. She remained that way for several seconds
then lifted her head and slid back up to the computer, turning it on.
O-Pasocon-sama, she thought watching the screen light up, be kind
to your most favoured Miko.

January 15th Tuesday, 19:53

In the main ballroom of the St. Regis hotel a number of different
individuals were gathering. Some were scientists, there to honour one
of their most brilliant peers. There were business people, mostly
Genom, high level executives. Some were just normal people.
The security was tight, not that many people noticed. Genom
security, when it needed to be, was subtle. Surveillance probes tucked
into any shadowy corner they would fit, scanners in the doorways,
boomers in Tuxedos sitting among the guests, blending in perfectly
with the crowd. The Mark 3B C-class boomers had been designed for just
that sort of task.
There were reasons for the tight security.
A number of the scientists were among the best and the brightest
at Genom. The executives also demanded a certain level of protection.
There had even been the possibility Quincy might attend, though it
seemed unlikely as more time passed.
Sylia sat at her table, Mackie beside her, looking about the room.
She knew the security had to be there, but could see little of it. She
had pinpointed a few of the boomers close to her. They were a bit hard
on the chairs they used and the creaking, as they sat, gave them away.
Justin sat across from her. He gave her a wink. Sylia nodded back.
A few tables away Nene and her parents were seated with two Genom
executives, one of whom was Katherine Madigan, and one of the boomers,
though no one was aware of that except for Katherine, who had arranged
some of the security.
Justin got to his feet and walked to the podium at the head of the
room. The conversation quickly dwindled off as everyone realized
things were about to begin. Waiters and waitresses began to circulate
about the room, opening bottles of beer, soft drinks and juice, then
filling glasses for the coming toast.
"Mina-san, Konbanwa. Koko de kimashita no wa, Arigato. We are here
to honour a man who was my friend, and the friend of many in this room
as well. He was also a genius. Stingray Katsuhito-sama changed the
world with his work. A brilliant and dedicated scientist, we will not
see his likes again for along time I fear," Justin picked up his
glass. "Tatte kudasai," he said.
There was a squeak of chairs over the floor as people stood, the
clinking of glassware as people picked up their drinks. Justin waited
for it to die down. "Stingray-hakase. Kampai."
"Kampai," most of the people in the room said in unison. Glasses
were brought together filling the rooming with the high chime of glass
on glass. They drank, then sat down.
"Thank you," Justin said as he stepped down from the podium.
There were several other speakers, including Mackie, who made
speeches of varying lengths and interest. Sylia was the last speaker
for the night.
As Doctor Vinkman finished off his speech Sylia drank the last of
the water in her glass and got up. She nodded to the doctor as they
passed and then she took her place at the podium.
"Mina-san, konbanwa. Watakushi no supichi wa chotto tsumarani to
omoimausu, gomen nasai," she began. "Watakushi no chichi ga totemo
atama ga ii shi shinsetsu desu, tada, kare wa buuma no kenkyuu no tame
ni kodomo-tachi o sutemashita," she said.
Sylia could sense the unease that brought to the room. She really
could not blame them. They were here to honour a friend and colleague,
or perhaps for a free vacation paid for by various companies, some
were there at her invitation. Few if any wanted to listen to a young
woman with a case of "daddy didn't love me blues". Sylia was not
planing on forcing them to.
"I am not bringing that up because I am bitter, or angry, but
because it needs to be said. The loss of my mother hit us all hard,
and my father dealt with his grief by throwing himself into the
research that did mean so much to him, but not more than his family.
The truly tragic aspect of his death was that given a little more
time, once he had gotten over some of his grief, he would have
realized that others were hurting as well. Whatever else you might say
of Stingray-hakase he was a loving father," Sylia told the audience.
Tou-chama, sayonara, Sylia thought. She was surprised at that moment.
She wanted to cry and almost did. The catharsis was much more intense
than she could have ever imagined. She fought back the tears and
continued.
"It is now more than ten years since he completed his work and
gave the boomer to the world. The question we have to ask is would he
have approved?"
"The number of combat and security boomer models produced by Genom
for marketing numbers 32. The known ones that is."
"A police force was formed to deal with boomer crimes in this
city. I have invited a few members of that police force here tonight,
they can tell you a little about boomers that you may not have known.
Officer Arai Takuya for example can tell you about the boomer that
forced him to retire."
"You might also want to speak with those who have lost family and
friends to the boomer rampages that have happened in this city."
"As of two thirty this afternoon there were one hundred and twenty
three conflicts in this world where boomers are involved in one way or
another. If you believe the rumours then you can boost that number to
one hundred and sixty one."
"There have been over three hundred assassinations that have been
attributed to Boomers by various police agencies across the world.
Increase that number to seven hundred if you include investigations
that are still going on."
"The boomer has become a symbol of fear in many parts of the
world, to a lesser extent in this city. The number of lives lost is
countless," Sylia paused to look about the room.
A number of uncomfortable looks, though most of the audience
looked neutral or in some cases approving. She could see a few Genom
types wearing their anger openly, but not the ones who counted.
Odotte, the new comer, Madigan, the fast riser, Sousuke, the old boy,
the survivor, all maintained calm facades, not impressed by her
speech. They had buried other people who chose to speak out against
Genom, never getting their hands or Genom's dirty in the process.
"Would he have approved? No, not at all."
She took the glass of water from the podium and took a drink.
"But many of us here are scientists and we know that danger of
pursuing our hypothesis without looking at the alternative."
"The question we also have to ask is would my chichi disapprove?"
"We are standing in a city, a city that was destroyed by a quake
of a magnitude that few could ever envision. The elevated highways and
shinkansen tracks with their support pillars strengthened, buildings
designed to take quakes three times the magnitude of the first great
Kanto quake, all were torn apart. The fires added to the destruction."
"And yet we stand, in this city, with very little signs of the
quake left, and some of the most impressive structures in the world
have been built here. All because of the boomer."
"When you are talking to the members of the AD Police you might
also want to talk with Shimoyachi Mariko-san. She can tell you about
the fire fighting boomer that saved her and her entire family, at the
cost of its existence, or perhaps life is the better term."
"You might also want to speak with Romanova Ali-san who can tell
you about how the field of prosthetics has advanced with the coming of
the boomer."
"Space, which was once a cold, inhospitable place, has been made
that much more livable with the work of the boomer. In factories
orbiting the planet and in the Lagrange points materials that once
could only be dreamt of are made reality."
"The number of lives saved or spared in one way or another by the
boomer is also countless and it is also a symbol of hope."
"Would my father have disapproved?" she looked about the room.
"No."
"Minna-san, we stand at a crossroads now. Where the boomer goes
from this point on will be decided, to a greater or lesser extent, by
all of us. We have been given a great responsibility and I can only
hope we are up to it."
"Arigato goazaiamashita," Sylia bowed slightly and stepped from
the podium as the applause started.
Mackie hugged her as she reached the table, she smiled down at him
as she returned the embrace. People crowded around, offering their
congratulations. The wait staff began to move about the room, putting
out the plates of food.
They would eat a little then move about the room, talking,
networking, renewing friendships, sharing stories perhaps. Sylia
looked around, wondering what might come of the night.

As Sylia was ending her speech a plane flew across the skies of
MegaTokyo. It was one of the many cargo planes that crossed the night
skies. In the Tower several security techs monitored it, like the
others.
When the plane reported engines problems, then a fire the security
techs handled the news much more calmly than the city's air traffic
controllers. The plane would crash six kilometers from the Tower. Not
a threat.
As the plane neared the roofs of the buildings it suddenly pulled
out of its dive, obviously under power. It was making for the Tower.
It took the security techs a few seconds to get the guns online,
to disengage the safeties that usually kept the Tower's high speed
auto-cannons from being able to fire on the city.
The plane flew apart as the heavy rounds tore through the aluminum
fuselage. It crashed into the Tower's open plaza.
"Get some C-class boomers out there, seal the area off. Get the
forensics people out there, I want the wreckage sifted through before
anyone else gets access to the site," the head tech said as he looked
at the burning wreckage on the screen.

The cannon rounds had ripped through the plane and its cargo. It
had hit hard, scattering burning wreckage across a large area, but the
cargo section had held together well. Inside of it fire proof armour
blew away from the two boomers that plane had been carrying. Both
remained in the burning wreckage for several seconds, the fire no
danger to them.
When they moved they moved fast, exploding from the fuselage,
ripping through the 10 C-Class boomers on site before anyone was even
aware that something had happened.
The two boomers scanned the area then their thrusters went off,
speeding them to the Tower.

Takeo Manabi walked into the crisis center, looking about the
screens that were displaying very little at the moment. He was senior
most official in the Tower at the point, unless Quincy decided to take
a direct interest.
"Why are we blind?" he asked.
"Jamming fields, and something took out a lot of the cameras. We
do know something has breached Tower security and is in the process of
entering the tower."
"Your reaction?"
"We scrambled the D-class task force."
"Send out 2 Dobermans, parameters set to surveillance," he said as
he took a seat.

The Asakusa air terminal served primarily as a holding area for
containers brought in from ship by sky cranes. It was a fast
operation, meant to get cargoes into the city as quick as possible.
There were a lot of customs agents there, they went over every cargo
thoroughly.
A dark green container had been placed in the middle of the lot,
the helicopter that had put it down heading back out to sea. The three
customs agents walking towards it were talking about going out for
drinks afterwards. There was nothing special about the container,
there were a number of similar containers there, most of them had been
checked by the same three men.
They all looked up at the sound of tearing metal. Something big
came out of the container, two somethings in fact.
Two of the men were dead before they knew what was happening,
caught in the thruster wash of the boomers' take off. The third
survived, only because he was just outside of the full force of the
wash.
Similar scenes were playing out through the city.

Sylia looked over the rim of her glass as one of the boomers she
had marked headed out of the room, being subtle about it, but still
moving fast. There were more moving out as well.
"Sumimasen, Stingray-san," someone said from behind her.
Sylia turned to find herself facing Ali Romanova. Nene was beside
her.
"Romanova-san," Sylia bowed slightly.
"I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me and my family
tonight," Ali said.
"Thank you for coming," Sylia said.
"Have you ever thought about continuing your Otou-san's research,"
Ali said.
"Pardon?"
"As I understand it you dropped out of University, but still are
active in the boomer field to a small extent."
"Kaa-san," Nene said, looking a little embarrassed. "Gomen nasai,"
Nene said. "Kaa-san hates to see a woman not reaching her full
potential," Nene said. She had to repress a smile. It was nice to see
that her mother could put even Sylia off her balance.
"Not at all," Sylia quickly regained her composure. "It is nice to
know there are people who are willing to let themselves be concerned
about others."
Ali nodded. "I'd also like the thank you for what you said."
"Dou itashimashite,"
Ali bowed slightly. "Sayonara."
Sylia nodded as Nene and Ali walked away. She smiled slightly as
she overheard Ali telling Nene that she could use Sylia as an example.
Sylia was a little surprised. She had always thought that Nene was
exaggerating when she talked about her kaa-san."
She looked around, finally spotting Madigan near the back of the
room. She held a finger up to her ear, her other hand down by her
waist, holding something. Getting a report or giving information,
Sylia guesses.
Several of the other Genom execs were also involved in similar
actions.
Something is definitely up, Sylia thought, and she was completely
out of the loop until the evening was over. That was an hour or two
away. If it was anything big then two hours was forever.

Takeo looked at the screen, direct feed from the one remaining
Doberman. The first they had received. Even in surveillance mode the
other Doberman had been taken out before even getting close.
On the screen was a huge boomer, nearly twice the size of a
D-Class. They were so big that they had to choose the corridors that
were large enough for them to move through. Its head was very similar
to a Doberman's head, but that's where any resemblance to any other
boomer ended.
A huge hump on their back contained the powerful thruster packs.
The upper arms were the size of a C-Class' torso. There arms split at
the elbow. The lower forearm a powerful one with long, claw like
fingers. The upper ones were powerful laser cannons. It moved on huge
legs, each almost the size of a C-Class boomer.
The armour looked organic, like the carapace of an insect, like it
had been grown. In fact it had, in a zero-g environment. Stronger than
any armour that had ever been designed before.
"Nan da?" one of the techs asked. "The computers will not ID it."
"This," Takeo said as he tapped a code into the computer then
placed his hand on the scanner beside the terminal. The screens
flashed for several seconds then information began to scroll across
the display.
"Flex type Boomer," Takeo said.
"Is that threat rating for real?"
30% lower, Takeo thought. Those boomers had more than likely been
built in lower class establishments, with some lower class materials
though the AI chips were Genom.
"I want the Bu-12Bs scrambled," Takeo said.
"Sir?"
"You heard me."
"We'll need your retinal print sir," the man said.
"Of course," Takeo said.
"Sir, there are reports coming, I think there are more of those
things in the city."
"Have the AD Police scrambled yet?" Takeo placed his eye against
the scanner.
"Just beginning to, they have no idea what is up yet. A few
patrols have engaged in battle and have taken serious losses," a young
woman said.
"Well, it looks like we will be helping them," Takeo straightened.
"I want all those Flex down."
"We will have to scramble almost all the combat boomers we have in
the city. The legal problems..."
"Matter little at this point. No collateral damage. Search and
destroy, tempered with protection."
"Yes sir," one of the female techs said as she began to set the
programs.
"Get me a cup of tea please, this will be a long night I fear,"
Takeo said. "And start putting things in their way, I want to know
where they are going."

His Road Chaser almost spun out of control as he twisted the
wheel, avoiding the APC coming out of the garage. Leon swore, down
shifting hard, turning the wheel, keeping the car from bouncing off
the wall. With his speed reduced he easily avoided the other three
APCs and the two cars, all on the way out.
He skidded to a halt, pushing his car door open, getting out,
snagging a bag from the seat beside him.
There was another patrol car close by, Asako was getting into it.
She had armour on and was carrying an assault rifle.
"Where are you going?"
"Out to get killed probably," she said, tossing the weapon into
the car. "Everyone is being scrambled, anyone who can carry a weapon
is being sent out there."
"Kuso," Leon began running towards the exit.
"McNichol, how bad is it?"
"It's the worse I've seen," Leon yelled back.
"I was afraid of that," Asako said softly as she got into the car.

Leon ran into the mecha room down in the weapons space. He ignored
the K-11s and 12s, making straight for one of the vaults. He pulled
his ID card from his pocket and ran it through the card reader, then
tapped in the combination. The vault door swung open.
Inside were three motorcycles, big ones.
"Someone is opening the motoroid vault, had to be you Leon,"
someone said from behind him.
"Konbanwa Shiroko-chan," Leon said as he muscled one of the bikes
out.
"Those things are still being tested."
"Last I heard they were doing pretty well."
"No one has ever taken them into combat."
"First time for everything," Leon turned. "Why aren't you out
there?"
"I pulled rank and hid in my office."
"Smart. What's the biggest gun this will carry?"
"Leon-san, we can't arm those things, the potential for collateral
damage is too high," she told him.
"I don't know what these things are but an ADP patrol copter with
four K-12s inside was close to one of them. I got on scene about two
minutes after the suits had been dropped into the scene. All four were
destroyed, two pilots dead, that thing was hardly even slowed. We have
reports of eight of them in the city."
"Okay, come on," Shiroko turned and headed towards the weapon
vaults. "Do you know that the SDF has shown an interest in our little
toy?"
"Heard the rumours," Leon said as he followed after her.
"Well, they sent us a test weapon and the target acquisition
software, both have Genom written all over them, for our and their
tests."
"I take it these tests still have not been performed."
"Pin pon," Shiroko said.
"What do we have?"
"Where do you get all those weapons of yours?"
"Pardon?"
"The Earthshaker, those pistol grenades, all that stuff."
"I have a friend in Magnum Research," Leon said.
"Must be a nice friend," Shiroko reached into her pocket, pulled
out her card key and ran it through the reader.
"She is."
"It's in lock up number 3," Shiroko said, walking over to the
small vault. She used her card key again, tapping in a combination as
well. The vault opened, inside was a large cannon.
"46mm, magnetic accelerator, it will run off the motoroid's power.
We have 100 rounds, belt. The kinetic energy this thing can deliver is
nothing short of amazing. You miss your target, hit anything else, we
will both be looking at criminal charges."
"How good it the software?"
"Don't know, hasn't been tested."
"Great."
"I'll help you get this onto a cart then you can mount it on the
bike. I'll go get the software and load it in," Shiroko said.
Leon nodded.

Leon looked at the weapon mounted on the bike's side. It was
nearly two meters long, most of that barrel. The receiver group was
big and blocky, made even more so by the box magazine hanging off it.
Two power cables ran from the weapon to the bike.
"Going to get any armour?" Shiroko looked up from her laptop. An
interface cable ran from the computer to the bike.
"Won't make a difference," Leon said.
"It will if you fall off this bike. The thing is going to handle
like a whale with this weapon on it."
"We'll see," Leon grabbed the bag he had brought with him from his
car and opened it up, removing the rail gun that Cat had sent him
several months before.
"Your friend again," Shiroko nodded at the weapon Leon held.
"Yea,"
"Let me see that when this is all over?"
"Sure, why not. Ready?"
"Just about. There, everything is green across the board," she
pulled the interface cable from the computer.
"Okay, open the elevator for me," Leon said as he grabbed the
bike's handlebars and rocked it forward off the kick stand. The weight
and unbalanced load took him by surprise and he almost dropped it.
Perhaps Shiroko had been right about the armour. No time for it now.
He rolled the bike into the elevator and hit the button for the
garage floor. He straddled the bike and began the start up procedure.
The doors opened on the garage level and he pushed it out with his
legs. On the small screen the computer came to life. Once it gave him
the final okays he turned the ignition switch and hit the starter.
A moment later Leon, leaning low across the bike, was shooting up
the ramp out onto the street.

Several kilometers from the ADP building a similar scene was
playing out in the basement of the Lady633 building.
Priss checked over the Typhoon II for the second time, making sure
the laser cannon was mounted properly, the 35mm and the extra tubular
magazine of ammunition were not about to break loose and everything
was in the green. She opened one of the small storage compartments and
checked to make sure she had reloads for her rail gun. Satisfied
everything was ready she left the motoslave to go suit up.
It had been a little over fifteen minutes since she had heard the
first news reports telling of the fighting going on in the city. She
had a radio playing in the equipment room, tuned to the police bands.
The ADP were not faring very well, but neither were any of the police
forces. There had been requests to call in the SDF.
Sylia probably was not going to be happy about Priss going out on
her own but as she saw it she had little choice really. She was not
about to sit the fight out. After suiting up she returned to the
Typhoon II and got onto it.
As her suit's hands made contact with the bike Priss thought the
information flashing on her face plate was brighter, warmer, than
usual, as if the bike was welcoming her. She shook her head to clear
it of such silly fancies and tapped into the building's security to
make sure it was safe to leave.
Once she was sure there were no one around who would be able to
see anything she started the bike up and opened the garage door.
She shot out of the garage, turning sharp at the top of the ramp,
the knee of her hardsuit almost scraping the ground.

Deri watched one of the APCs flip over as the boomer, he assumed
it was a boomer, pushed it aside, hardly slowing as it moved through
the ADP road block. One of the Fire Bees swept down on it, the 20mm
rounds seemed to have no effect on the boomer. The boomer stopped
though, raised its left arm and fired on the tiny attack helicopter.
The powerful lance of energy holed both pilot and aircraft which
exploded as soon as it was hit. Deri ducked as the flaming wreckage
rained down on the area.
Having dealt with the aircraft the boomer began to move forward
once again. A squad of troopers on its left flank opened up with their
rifles and a 20mm cannon. Tracer lit up the night, as did the laser
sights on the rifles. Deri watched at the tracer ricocheted off the
boomer's armour, it was like fireworks, he thought, for a moment
entranced by the dangerous beauty of it all. He was brought back as
the boomer swept one of its laser cannon across the line of troopers,
cutting many of them in half.
"Yaroo!" Deri growled, angered by the loss of life. He grabbed for
the rifle in his patrol car, knowing that the weapon was useless, but
unable to control himself. Then something odd happened.
The boomer stumbled back, and there was a noise rolling over the
area like thunder. The boomer stumbled back again and this time Deri
realized what was happening. He looked back over his shoulder and saw
another Boomer, a Bu-12B he thought, firing at it. The huge cannon the
combat boomer carried was having much more effect than the AD Police's
weapons had had.
The 12-B strode forward, the cannon firing again. The other boomer
was knocked back again, smacking up against the APC it had overturned.
As the 12-B advanced further the other boomer seemed to get its
bearings. It brought up one of its arms and fired, burning a hole
through the 12-Bs chest armour. The combat boomer got off one more
shot before collapsing. The heavy cannon round ripped though an area
already weakened by the previous impacts. There was an explosion on
the left side of its chest. Still, it pushed itself away from the APC
and continued on, hardly slowing, though Deri noticed that its left
arm hung unmoving by its side.
He reached into the car, letting the rifle fall and grabbing the
radio's mike.
"Control this is unit Alpha 2. If the SDF have not scrambled then
I think Genom is helping us," Deri said.

Priss moved around the corner of the building, a few meters above
the road. Behind her was one of the monsters that had caused the panic
in the city. She dropped to the ground suddenly and ducked into an
alley.
"All right, you're up," she said.
As the Flex boomer came around the corner the Typhoon II fired on
it from one of the roofs, the powerful laser cannon cutting the
boomer's right arm, midway along the upper part. The Typhoon II lifted
into the air, the powerful hover rotors taking it into the sky.
The Flex responded, firing at the dodging Typhoon II, managing to
catch it with a glancing shot that clipped one of the hover rotors.
The mecha, suffering from a partial loss of control, slammed up
against the side of a building then fell onto a roof.
Priss used the distraction, leaping out from cover, going to the
boomers right side and behind it. She took to the air, laying three of
her contact mines on the boomer's back as she went.
The boomer's thrusters fired off, lifting it into the air as well.
Then the charges went off and super hot gasses burnt into the armour,
taking the thruster unit out. The Flex landed badly, falling to its
side, but it was quickly on its feet.
Priss remained in the air and behind it, targeting the holes that
her charges had burnt into the armour. Three rail gun spikes tore into
the softer interior of the boomer causing small secondary explosions.
Priss thought she had it when it turned, much faster than she had
expected, bringing its left arm up.
There was a flash of light and a beam of energy took the left arm
off, then cut a deep trench into the boomer's chest. A bigger
explosion ripped through the body, one of the legs blew free and the
boomer collapsed, unmoving.
Priss looked up to see the Typhoon II hovering above her. It began
to come down. Obviously it had compensated for the hit it had taken to
the hover rotor. The left side of its face had been partially crushed
and one of its eyes had gone out. Priss looked up at it once it had
landed.
"A lot of help you were, try not to get hit again," she said.
"Come on, let's see what else we can find."
As she turned away Priss wondered if it was her imagination or if
the motoslave had indeed looked hurt.

Translation of the opening of Sylia's speech.
"Good evening everyone, I'd like to apologize as I think this
speech is a little boring. My Father was a brilliant and kind man, but
he abandoned his children for boomer research."

Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate story of the Knight Sabers. 2034
Fearful Symmetry part 4 of 6
by Shawn Hagen

Based on characters and concepts created by Suzuki Toshimutsu.
Bubble Gum Crisis is owned by Artmic, Youmex and Suzuki Toshimutsu. My
thanks to my proof readers Brian and Suika.

Vocab Corner.

We are presented with a familiar scene but our familiar friends
are not there. Written on the board is, 'Very little vocab to
introduce, we've gone shopping!!'.

Neru - sleeping
Yappari - naturally (it figures)
Junbi - preparations
uso - lie
uso ja nai - it's not a lie
daroo - (supposition)
nani mo domo arigato gozaimashita - thank you for everything.

Leon was breathing deeply, a little scared, a little excited. A
mixture that he had not felt in some time. It was something he had
missed; not that that made him happy. He would have thought himself
better than some adrenaline junky.
He wore a pair of goggles, on the right lens was a projection of
what the motoroid was seeing. Not that it was seeing much other than a
wall much like the one Leon was staring at and a few vending machines.
The bright lights and friendly lettering suddenly made Leon realize
that he was thirsty.
Taking a small mirror from his pocket Leon used it to look around
the corner. The boomer was making its way down the street, moving from
place of cover to place of cover. It was not a behavior he had ever
seen before. Boomers on rampages did not go in for subtle tactics.
The monster coming towards him had already gotten through one ADP
squad and one SWAT team road block without being slowed. Now it was
his turn. He hoped that the police and fire crews had gotten everyone
evacuated in the few minutes they had had. Anyone still in the area
was not going to be safe.
"Okay Tartan," Leon said, he had named it after a dog he had had
as a kid. "It's coming down the street, when I give the word come
around the corner, lock on, and put three shots into it. Then move
back into cover. Three seconds later repeat that maneuver until it's
dead or circumstances lead you to another course of action."
"Wakarimasu," the motoroid's computer synthesized voice came over
the radio in the goggles. It was a mid range voice, soft, perhaps
chosen to sound relaxing.
He watched as the boomer closed on him, it was probably going to
turn at the street corner one up from him. He waited until it got
close then gave the motoroid its signal to move, stuffed the mirror
into his pocket and readied his weapon.
The booming of the 46mm rounds as they broke the sound barrier
told him that the motoroid had fired. He took a deep breath then spun
around the corner, bringing his weapon to bear on the boomer.
The big boomer was turning quickly, its laser arms coming up to
target the retreating motoroid. Leon opened up on it, spraying it with
ammunition. The fire seemed to of little effect; the rounds, while
more than able to pierce lighter armours, were simply unable to
penetrate that carapace. He changed his point of aim to its head,
hoping it might have more effect.
When the boomer seemed to notice the new attack Leon dove back
into cover.
A moment later he heard the booming of his motoroid's rail cannon.
He waited a few seconds and moved out from cover again.
The boomer was not to fall for it twice. While it left arm was
tracking the motoroid and firing on it Leon found himself almost
staring down the barrel of the laser cannon on the right arm.
He managed to get to cover before the beam managed to target him,
though it passed close enough that he could feel burns coming up on
his shoulder and the material of his jacket was smoldering. After
running down the street several meters he threw himself flat. The
beam, which had cut through the wall, passed over his head before
shutting off.
"Change of plans," he said into the mike, hoping the motoroid was
still functioning.
"Wakarimasu," it told him, same calm voice. "Parameters changing."
"Nani?"
"Air support on the way."
"Fire Bees?"
"Hai."
"Itsu?"
"Ima," it said and a moment later Leon heard the familiar chatter
of the 20mm rail guns.
"Attack," Leon said calmly, getting to his feet and moving back
onto the street.
The four Fire Bees had come in from the west--flying NOE more than
likely. Now they had climbed and split up, moving as fast as they
could, putting down as much fire as possible. Little of the ammunition
was actually hitting the boomer, though it was keeping it on the
defensive. Leon realized being out in the open was not the safest
option, but he had committed himself. Also the boomer had moved
forward so he was behind it, and for the next few seconds that was as
safe place as any. He wondered about that conclusion as a nearby
vending machine exploded, hemorrhaging dark, carbonated fluids.
He and his motoroid opened up on the boomer, Leon finding the
rents in the armour caused by the 46mm. The tiny flechettes seemed to
be more effective once they got inside.
One of the Fire Bees went up in a ball of flame as the boomer got
a solid hit and another spun out of control, crash landing on a
building after its tail rotor was shot off.
An explosion ripped from the left side of the boomer, its left arm
suddenly hung uselessly by its side. It brought its mouth cannon into
play and managed to hit the third Fire Bee, taking out its engine.
Leon thought it would continue, but instead the huge thrusters on its
back opened up and it fled. The wash from the engines was enough to
knock Leon over and send him tumbling down the street a few meters.
"Daijoubu?" the motoroid asked, standing over him.
"Where's it going?" Leon got to his feet, looking around for his
rail gun.
The motoroid stood still for a moment, looked about then turned
its attention back to Leon. "It has touched down a kilometer from this
location and is continuing on as before. At current speed it will
reach an non-evacuated area in two minutes."
"Well then let's go. Motorcycle form," Leon ordered.

No one could quite say when Quincy had come into the panic center,
he was just there. One of the techs had almost dropped a cup of coffee
when she had turned and suddenly found him there, flanked by two
bodyguards.
"Sir," she said.
"Chairman," Takeo bowed. "I apologize that this matter has not
been taken care of."
"Why are they here?"
"They are making their way to secure area 18J, we have a 98%
confirmation on this. Currently Andrews-hakase is the only one of
import in that location. As per standing orders he has already been
evacuated."
"As per standing orders?" Quincy said, looking down at Takeo, his
hands crossed over the cane he leaned on ever so slightly.
Takeo considered the slight tone of disapproval he heard in the
Chairman's voice, trying to understand it.
Standing orders. Orders that were, after all, nearly two years
old. An enemy that, according to all the intel he had read and what
Odotte and Madigan had told him, was up on Genom operating protocols.
An enemy that might expect the Doctor to be evacuated.
How long since he had given those orders? Two, three minutes. Too
long.
"Get in touch with the security team, tell them to fall back to
the secure area and wait there," Takeo ordered then he turned and
dropped to his hands and knees. "Gomen nasai," he said, his head
touching the floor.
"Get up," Quincy ordered as he walked down the short flight of
stairs. "Continue with your work. I want those Boomers stopped with as
little damage to my city as possible, see to it."
"Yes sir," Takeo got to his feet.
In a way his career had just been ruined. He had lost some of the
trust that Quincy had once extended him. There was a high probability
that there were some spies within the Tower. His mistake might not
have been a mistake, that was what Quincy would think.
There was nothing he could do about it but do his job as best as
possible and hope one day he might regain the trust he has lost.

Yoshiro was feeling a little angry. Angry that he had been forced
from his lab in one of the more secure areas in the tower,
interrupting some important work. He was a little scarred. boomers,
attacking the Tower. That was something to worry about. He was
confused, the dark maintenance tunnels closed around him, the security
team pushing him long, moving him as fast as they could go.
For all the legends and myths about it the Tower's security was
not as impressive as the uninformed might think. It was not the
obsidian fortress that some had dubbed it. It was too big for it to be
completely secure: too many people had to enter and exit its walls
daily, there were even some forgotten ways in, so it was said.
It was places in the Tower that were secure, that no one entered
without the proper clearance. His lab had been one. Where the security
team was taking him would be another. The tunnel they were in was not.
Everyone knew that, everyone was tense.
The lights suddenly went out. From behind him he heard a loud
thump and a wet, meaty sound, something from a butcher's shop. There
might have been a scream, but it was cut off so suddenly that he could
not be sure.
Something grabbed him, so it felt, under his arms with a grip like
steel. He felt himself pulled up, moving so quickly he felt
momentarily nauseous. There was a sting on his neck, a burning
sensation that quickly faded. After that he knew no more.

The boomer looked towards the ceiling, the heavy emergency hatch
had been cut from its hinges and dropped onto one of the team members.
Andrews-hakase had been taken at almost the same time. About to launch
itself through the hatch it stopped as a hail of gun fire came from
the opening, followed by several, round objects. Grenades, the Boomer
realized, moving to shield the team leader from the explosions.
"Go, now," the leader told it, shouting due to the fact he was now
deaf and did not realize that the tunnel was nearly silent.
The boomer followed its orders. As it passed through the opening
it was blown in half by several shaped charges.
The remaining boomer stared up at the hatch then rocketed down the
corridor. There were several other hatches it could use which might
not have been mined.

Takeo listened to the report as it came in. Several members of the
security team down, Andrews-hakase taken, and most of the Tower's
security forces were busy with the Flex units. Whoever had come up
with that plan had taken a chance that whoever was on duty would
follow procedures and send Andrews out. It had been a chance that had
paid off.
"Scramble the emergency teams from levels 32, 54, 78 and 103. Tell
them to work their way towards each other, sealing off all exits as
they go. Complete sweep. Initiate emergency protocol Y23 on levels 55
to 77. Have medical personnel ready to go into the area once the gas
has dispersed," Quincy said calmly, taking control of the situation.
"Yes sir," the chief tech said.
Takeo waited until Quincy told him what to do.
"Takeo-kun, ensure that there will be no problems with the fact we
used the 12Bs," Quincy told him, dismissing him at the same time.
"Hai," Takeo said, turning and heading from the room.

January 16th Wednesday, 0:45

Not counting the two boomers that had entered the tower, 12 had
been released in the city. All of them had been making their way
towards the Tower on courses guaranteed to cause the most damage and
casualties. Fortunately the authorities had managed to evacuate most
of the people from the affected areas in time. That time had been
bought for them by the city's police forces. It had been bought for
them by the lone Knight Saber who had been out that night, and, more
than the others, it had been bought for them by Genom combat boomers.
Leon listened to the news reports as he sat on a curb, letting a
medic put a dressing on his face. One of his dives for cover had sent
him into a dumpster. Not one of his finer moments.
"We can probably take those stitches out in a week," she told him.
"When was your last tetanus booster?"
"Two years ago," Leon said.
"No problems there, I'll give you a wide spectrum antibiotic
though."
"Yea, sure," Leon said, not really interested.
He looked over at the remains of the motoroid as some techs loaded
it into a wrecker. That was going to cause no shortage of problems
over the next few days. Still, he had finally managed to get his
quarry. The boomer lay several meters away, in an area cordoned off by
portable barricades and police tape. It looked to be in better shape
than his motoroid. He could not believe how hard it had been to kill
the thing.
Once the medic was finished with him he got to his feet and walked
over to it. The crew from forensics was going over it.
"Well?" Leon asked, moving through the barriers.
"Never seen anything like it," Sergeant Sanada said.
"Genom?" the big question on Leon's mind.
"Don't kno...."
"It isn't," someone said from behind them.
Leon turned. A young woman was standing there, he thought she
looked a little familiar. She had long black hair, though it was
braided and piled atop her head, giving her an illusion of height. Her
eyes were deep green, standing out from the pale skin of her face. She
was very beautiful, one of the most beautiful women Leon had ever
seen.
"Pardon," Leon said.
"Odotte Domino," she said, holding out a cream coloured meishi,
"from Genom."
"I see," Leon took the card. High placed young woman, he thought,
looking over the information on the card. "And you say this is not one
of yours?" Leon indicated the boomer.
"The design is ours, a prototype model was stolen, like those
chips you have not been able to recover, but Genom did not build this
monster."
"Unless this is the prototype model," Leon said.
"No. If it was the prototype model both you as well as your little
toy mech would be dead, and it would still be moving. This is a poor,
inferior, knock off," Domino moved closer to him.
"You'll have to excuse me for not believing you Odotte-san, but
why have we not heard anything of this theft before. No one has any
information on it."
"You over rate Interpol, the CIA and the others Captain McNichol,"
she said softly, ensuring her voice would not carry. Leon had to move
a bit closer to hear her. There was something about her, he could not
put his finger on it, but he felt that she was telling the truth.
"What happens on Spring Island is Genom's concern and no one else's,
until something like this happens." she told him.
"Reasonable," Leon said.
"You will find some of those missing chips in this Boomer, we
would like them returned as soon as you finish this investigation. We
would also like full reports on anything you find. Any property proved
to be Genom's that was used to build these, and there no doubt will be
some, should also be returned to us. Also, we would like to have all
the people involved in this investigation to sign non-disclosure
contracts, or better yet let Genom techs do the work."
"I'm sure the contracts can be arranged, but that's not my field.
What if I told you I thought that you built these things and released
them on purpose?"
"McNichol-san," she said, something about her suddenly seeming
familiar to Leon. "How long have you been with the ADP? Long enough to
know us very well I think. Where is the profit in such a move? What
would it bring us?"
"You would see how well they handle," he told her.
"Against what? Our own 12Bs? We could test that anywhere, and
have. Against the ADP? To what point? This design is not a security
model, not that we would test those either in such a way. It is
obviously a war machine. That it could go up against the ADP would
prove nothing. Believe what you may about us we are a smart company
are we not McNichol-san? What value in this?"
Leon looked down into her eyes for a time, feeling a little
confused, a little overwhelmed. What she said was the truth, he
grudgingly admitted.
"So who did this?" he finally asked.
"Someone who doesn't care what it costs to reach their goals.
Maybe an old friend," she smiled ever so slightly. "Thank you for your
time Captain," she turned and walked away, heading towards a limousine
parked near by.
Leon watched her go, feeling as if he could not look away from
her. He watched until she got into the car and it drove away.
Looking down at the card he read through the information their
once more. A very high placed Genom official. He knew he should not
believe her, not take anything she said at face value, but he did.
He shook his head for a second to clear it then shoved the card
into his jacket pocket.
"Give me a full report on this thing once you have taken it
apart."
"Do we really have to sign non-disclosure contracts?"
"Hell, you'll be lucky if that is all Genom makes you do."

Domino sat in the back of her limo, reading a list off the
computer, wondering if it was worth making any more visits to ADP
officers. Captain Wong, she thought, perfect. Highlighting the name
she received information on his location. She gave the directions to
her driver then leaned back in the seat. Quincy had ordered her and
some other execs out to start planting the information Genom wanted
everyone to accept. Standard tactics.
The next few days were going to be busy with damage control, and
other problems. She had received a preliminary report from the Tower.
Things were beginning to take some shape, but she still wasn't sure
what it was. She suspected though.
That could wait a bit.
Seeing Leon again had been rather enjoyable, the puppy was not
going to change until he died. She was a little surprised to find
herself thinking fondly on the ADP Captain. He did know Genom very
well, in his limited way. He was an interesting challenge. If one day
he stopped barging forward and took more time to think he might
actually become a threat. That day was a long time off though, as far
as she could tell.

Priss managed to get the Typhoon II home, though she was sure that
the front wheel was about to fall off. Neither she nor the motoslave
had come through it without their scars. The left arm of her suit was
cracked from a slap that had grazed her. From the way it felt she was
pretty sure that the flesh underneath was heavily bruised.
Those things had been monsters. She had accounted for the one and
had helped, the ADP in one case and a Genom combat Boomer in another,
to destroy two more. Not a bad night's work.
Once she was back in the garage Priss parked the motoslave in a
repair cradle and shut it down. She slid off the bike, feeling all the
aches and pains from the night, and walked to the suit racks.
Removing her suit proved rather painful, and once the suit was off
she could see the blood staining the fabric of the inner suit. The
wound was not too bad she thought, minor lacerations, a lot of
bruising, it hurt a when she moved it, but not so much that she
thought it was broken. It probably looked a lot worse than it was.
After doing what first aid she could on herself Priss lay down of
the sofa to nap and to wait for Sylia.

Nene clutched the bouquet of flowers tight to her chest as she
rushed through the hospital, looking at the numbers on the door,
stopping every now and then to look over the maps mounted on the wall
with the big, friendly, 'you are here' markers.
She had not even heard of the boomer incident until after it was
over, when she called into ADP headquarters. The guests at the dinner
had been shielded from what was happening out in the city by Genom.
She was still wearing the dress she had been wearing at dinner.
Genom, she thought, with a little more disgust than usual. How
could her mother have become so friendly with Katherine Madigan? The
woman was, well, a shark in a nice suit really. But she was a shark
with style, Nene had to admit. Seeing her mother and Madigan sitting
there, talking like they were old friends, joking about this and that;
and her mother telling her that she would do well to look to her as
another example. Unbelievable!
"Mama no baka," she muttered quietly to herself.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind as she turned her thoughts
to Kaoru. He had been wounded in the incident, what a PR Lieutenant
was doing out in front line combat was beyond her, though not badly.
Finally she found the room where he was. She noted with a little
surprise that it was a private room. That was strange, but maybe there
were so many wounded that they ran out of space in the other rooms.
She took a breath, composed herself, and pushed the door open.
"Daijoubu desu ka Wada-ch..." she stopped as she saw Kaoru was not
alone. An attractive woman--probably in her late twenties--was sitting
by his bed side. She turned to face Nene. She was beautiful, her black
hair long and straight, her brown eyes piercing, she had a stare that
reminded Nene a little of Sylia or Katherine.
"Ne..Romanova-san," Kaoru said a little quickly. "Have you met my
wife, Karen Kasumi?"
Nene almost dropped the flowers she was carrying. She felt a
little as if she had been punched in the stomach.
"No, you never told me you were married," Nene said, amazed at how
calm she sounded.
"Oh, Kaoru is like that," Kasumi stood and walked to Nene. "My
position in Genom might cause him a little embarrassment, or so he
thinks," she smiled fondly then looked over her shoulder at him. "So,
you are one of Kaoru's friends from the ADP?" she turned her attention
back to Nene.
She stressed the word friend in such a way that made Nene sure she
knew about her and Kaoru. That she did not even seem to care made it
even worse.
"Yes," Nene said. "You are with Genom?"
"I'm in control on the operations in Osaka. As soon as I heard
about this I flew right in."
On your broom? Nene thought, rather uncharitably. "I'm glad. I was
worried that there would be no one here with him."
"We might not be able to spend much time together, but we are
always there when the other needs us. Here, let me take those," she
took the flowers from Nene. "I'll find some place for them."
For the first time she noticed that the room was filled with
flowers. In charge of Genom's Osaka operations. The woman was
obviously very rich. It explained why she often though that Kaoru was
living beyond his means.
"You are all right aren't you?" Nene walked to Kaoru's bed side.
"Oh, just fine. Minor fracture," he held up his left arm which had
a light cast on it. "Tripped jumping out of the APC," he laughed.
"You should stick to the ADP building."
"They grabbed anyone they could when this happened. Your friend
Naoko-san was out there you know?"
"Naoko?" Nene asked, suddenly worried. Why was she wasting time
with this liar when Naoko might be hurt, or worse.
"I'm sure she is all right," Kaoru said.
"Well, I think I better check, seeing as you are all right."
"Do go, make sure your friend is fine," Kasumi said. "Kaoru will
be fine."
"Domo," Nene said.
"Nani mo domo arigato gozaimasthita," she said, bowing deeply.
Behind her Kaoru was giving her an apologetic look and shrugged his
shoulders.
"Unn," Nene said, leaving the room.
Temee, Nene thought angrily, striding through halls, he had lied
to her, made her love him, and he was married. By the looks of things
he was not about to leave her either. Whether he loved her or her
money did not matter, he was staying with her. And her. Nene was sure
that she knew and that made her feel dirty, like she was some
diversion that need not be worried about.
When she saw a computer terminal behind one of the nurse's stations
she walked to it, hoping someone would ask her what she was doing so
she could snap, 'ADP business' at them. No one did.
She did not even try to be subtle with her computer work. The
security hardly slowed her and soon she was in the hospital admission
section. She found Naoko's name quickly. She was down two floors in
one of the 6 person rooms. Checking deeper Nene was relieved to see
that she was just in for the night for observation.
Making a stop at the gift shop for another bouquet of flowers Nene
went to her friend's room.
She pushed the door open slowly in case anyone was sleeping. She
need not have bothered. There were five people in the room. Naoko, two
other communications techs and two women from the TAC squads. Nene
recognized one as Corporal Sakaki Arwen. They were all sitting on
their beds, talking animatedly.
"Well if is isn't Romanova-junsabuchou," Arwen said happily.
"You're late you know, you could have gotten those pretty rank pins of
yours splattered with a little blood," her tone was good natured. Nene
had gotten some flack from some of the women on the TAC squads before,
as had most of the communication techs.
"Nene-san," Naoko said happily.
"I heard you were here so I thought I better check up on you."
"She's fine," the other woman from the TAC squads said. "Took a
little shrapnel in the arm and a concussion that the doctors are
holding her in here for."
"Ah, I remember my first concussion," Arwen said. "Lot better than
loosing your head."
"I just wanted to be sure," Nene walked close to Naoko's bed and
gave her the flowers.
"Arigato," Naoko said, taking the flowers. "They're beautiful."
"I'm going to go now, it is late," Nene said.
"Grab a seat junsabuchou-chan," Arwen told her. "We have a bottle
of Chivas that someone sneaked in here and none of us can drink it due
to medication and other problems."
"Okay," Nene said as she took a seat. Being around these women
would be a good way to put Kaoru from her mind for a time.
"Love the dress by the way," Arwen told her as she poured Nene a
generous amount of the whisky.

Sylia looked over the print out she had taken from her computer.
It was a condensed version of the evening's events. Flipping through
the pages Sylia made a few mental notes as the elevator took her down
to the basement.
In the equipment room she gave Priss' hardsuit and the Typhoon II
a quick examination. They were a little worse than she would have
hoped. She and Mackie were going to be busy.
"Yappari," she said quietly, walking into the adjoining room where
Priss was asleep.
Priss came awake almost as soon as Sylia had entered. She sat up
quickly, wincing slightly at the pain in her arm, then calmed down
when she saw it was only Sylia.
"How many rules did I break this time?" Priss asked.
"I stopped counting a long time ago," Sylia told her, smiling
slightly. "Let me take a look at that arm," she said, pulling the
chair from the desk and wheeling it to beside the couch.
Priss sat still and let Sylia remove the bandages and then pull
the dressing free. She had used supposedly non-stick types, but she
had realized long ago that when blood dried it was a lot like glue no
matter the dressing. Still it was not too bad and by the time Sylia
had finished the wounds were not bleeding too much. The bruising that
had been there before had darkened, becoming an angry, blotchy,
purple.
"What were those things?" Priss asked her.
"A prototype boomer model that Genom designed. Someone has been
copying designs," Sylia told her.
"They were unbelievable," Priss shook her head. "Even with the
Typhoon II they were a hard fight."
"It was fortunate that you did not have to go up against the
original. I'll fill you in tomorrow once I've finished researching
things."
"Hai."
"Chotto matte," Sylia got up and walked to the far wall where
several boxes were stacked. She selected two and brought them over,
staggering slightly due to the weight of one.
She opened one of the boxes and then expanded the trays of the
trauma kit out. After putting one a pair of sterile gloves she began
to examine the wound.
"Blunt trauma," she said, sounding very clinical. "Wounds in
accordance with that, possible muscle damage. Can you lift it above
your head?"
"Sure," Priss said as she did so. It hurt more than she would have
thought, but she managed to hide it.
"Does it hurt?"
"No, not really."
"Definite muscle damage since I know you are lying. I'm going to
use the ultrasound just to make sure there is no skeletal damage and
see the extent of the soft tissue damage." Sylia told Priss as she
took off the gloves and tossed them into the waste basket.
The second box contained an ultrasound unit. Sylia quickly set it
up and then used it to examine Priss' arm.
"No skeletal damage that I can see, old wounds healed up for the
most part, a fair amount of internal bleeding but surgery is not
required," she was looking at the screen not Priss.
"You know, I always meant to ask you. Where did you learn all this
medicine? You sound like you know your stuff."
"My father taught me," Sylia said, still looking at the screen.
That puzzled Priss who knew that Sylia had only been 12 when her
father had died, matter of public record. Odd that he should have
taught her something as complex as medicine at such a young age. Then
again Sylia was a genius so maybe it was not so odd.
"I'll bandage that up and we'll put it in a sling for a few days,"
Sylia said, shutting the ultrasound off.
"A sling?"
"We better immobilize that. Sling or cast."
"You are just like a doctor," Priss said.
Sylia thought about Priss' words, her question and the answer she
gave. She thought about the evening's ceremony. As she began to apply
the dressings it occurred to her that it was time to be open about
that. Priss, as much as it would have surprised her when she had
recruited the young woman, was her best choice.
"Have I ever told you much about my tou-san?" Sylia asked.
"Not really," Priss said, realizing that something had changed.
"Brilliant man really, but sometimes, well, maybe a bit too
focused on the ends to question the means I think."
"Bad combination," Priss said.
"Yes," Sylia nodded. "Very bad. After his death a data cartridge
came to me, from him."
"Pardon?"
"He had set it up with his lawyers. If he was to die in any sort
of odd circumstances, and his lab blowing up was one, I was to get it.
It was rather unique, you'll not find many like it anywhere. They just
have too much data storage space to be practical for very much."
"I think Nene-chan would disagree with you."
"Nene-chan has always been an exception to many rules," Sylia
smiled. "Still, these are not something you find in very many places.
Not that I knew that then."
"There was only one machine in the house that would accept it, one
that used a dermal contact headset, a heavily modified one. Another
thing I did not know at the time. When I opened the files," Sylia
stared off for a time, her fingers working automatically. Priss said
nothing, just waited.
"Everything my tou-san ever knew, all of it, was forced into my
mind."
"Kuso," Priss said softly, not sure if she believed it.
"It hurt you know," Sylia said softly, suddenly feeling better.
The pain was there, but somehow sharing it helped.
Priss nodded, not that she actually knew.
Sylia told Priss everything, the migraines, the nightmares, the
doubts she had. Priss just listened, realizing for the first time that
for all her money Sylia had suffered much like she had. It surprised
her to realize just how alike they were.
It took Sylia longer to finish the tale than it did for her to
finish treating Priss and put her arm in a sling. Priss sat on the
couch and listened.
"Well," Priss said when Sylia trailed off during the talk of her
mother. "That really is horrible."
"Thank you," Sylia laughed softly.
"I can't help you Sylia," Priss said, almost forcing the words out.
The fact that there was nothing she could do to even try to help
bothered her. "This is completely beyond me. I didn't know your
otou-san, how could I tell if you were like him?"
"I'm not asking you to," Sylia told her. "Just to know it. Someone
should."
"Share your pain around, ne?" Priss smiled.
"Something like that."
"Oi," Priss put her good hand on Sylia's shoulder, the physical
contact another new thing in their relationship. "You know, I've heard
a lot about Stingray-hakase, some from you, and others, and what I
read, and, not that I ever wanted to tell you, but I think your
otou-san was a real bastard actually and I really doubt I would have
liked him."
Sylia looked a little surprised then realized what Priss was
actually saying, in her less than tactful way. She smiled. "Well, I
can't be sure, but I think my tou-san would have hated you. Probably
would have thought you someone who had wasted her life pointlessly."
"Maybe I have," Priss stood, still smiling. "I'm going to call a
cab, no way I'm riding home with this sling on. I'll use one of the
taps into the phone booths across the street."
"I'll give you some medication, pain killers, iron supplements,
that sort of thing."
"Yea, sure," Priss said as she left the room. Sylia doubted she
would take the medication. She pondered giving Priss a shot with most
of the stuff she would need before she let her leave, but decided it
was not worth the argument.
Packing up, she thought about her father. He would have really
hated Priss, she laughed softly at the thought and smiled.

Nene noted the lights were on in the lower part of the house when
she walked up the driveway. She fished her keys from her purse and
wondered who was up late and if they were waiting for her.
She found her mother sitting in one of the chairs, several files,
computer disks, a computer and a cup on the table in front of her.
"Tadaima," Nene said.
"O kaeri," Ali said, looking up from her notes.
"Papa wa?"
"Neru."
"Soo ka. Mama, nani o suru?"
"Junbi," Ali told her. "The events of this evening have resulted in
a number of casualties that will require prosthetic surgery. I have
three cases tomorrow. Two eyes, that will be easy and a lower leg
which will keep me busy. And in two hours a patient will be stable
enough for me to go in and remove a blood clot from her brain. How
was your friend?"
"She's fine, observation for a concussion."
"Luckier than some according to the news. Of course thanks to Genom
everyone is lucky."
"Nani?"
"They used a number of boomers being stored for shipment to SDF
bases to protect the city. Big story."
"I don't believe it," Nene walked over to her mother's side.
"I don't see why not," Ali said.
"I don't know," Nene took a seat on the arm of the chair. "I
remember when I could sit in a chair with you," Nene said.
"I think there is still room," Ali said, sliding over, smiling.
Nene moved into the space created. It was very tight, but also
rather nice.
"So, why so nostalgic," Ali picked up her coffee cup and took a
drink.
"Have you ever been involved with a married man?" Nene asked.
Ali came close to choking on the coffee she had just drunk. Her
expression would have made Nene laugh had she not been feeling so
down.
"Nani!?"
"It's not like we slept together," Nene told her. "Thought I guess
we came close."
"Nene, what are you talking about?"
"One of the Lieutenants at work, we were seeing each other and,
well tonight I found out he was married," Nene put her arms around her
mother and buried her face in her chest.
"And he never told you?" Ali stroked Nene's hair.
"If he had told me I would have stopped seeing him," Nene laughed,
though it sounded like she might be holding back tears.
"Oh Nene-chan, you can be so foolish," Ali told her.
"Thanks," Nene said sarcastically.
"Did his wife find out?"
"I think she knew, and she didn't care. She's rich and I think
Kaoru likes that."
"Kawai-soo Nene-chan."
"And he just sat there in the bed, not even having the decency to
say anything."
"He wasn't the reason you wanted to put off university was he?"
"Kind of."
"Nene-chan," her Mother sounded a little disapproving. "You should
know better."
"I thought I loved him," Nene said softly. "I think I did, until
tonight. How could he lie like that?" she sounded closer to tears than
before.
"Maybe he never realized how important he had become to you. Maybe
he's just a bastard."
Nene began to laugh, hearing her Mother speak like that was just so
out of character for her.
"Once," Ali said.
"Pardon?"
"I was involved with a married man once."
"Honto," Nene moved back a little so she could look up at her
mother.
"Honto wa yo. I wasn't much older than you and he, well he was one
of the professors, not one of mine. Young and smart and very pretty,"
Ali smiled. "And he never told me he was married and I found out from
friends who thought I was acting like a real idiot over him."
"What did you do?"
"I made a rather large scene about it. Very embarrassing, but I
did get back at him."
"Mama no baka," Nene moved close to her Mother again.
"Well, if you are going to act stupid doing it over a man is not
so bad," Ali told her.
Nene laughed softly.

The upper command staff, investigations, tactical had gathered in
one of the larger meeting rooms. Chief Toda sat at the front of the
room, arms crossed over his chest, looking asleep, ignoring all the
questions his people were tossing him. He knew the answers, but he
would let Yamanaka handle it.
Yamanaka Tylor was the ADP's lawyer and legal specialist. Everyone
in the room knew him well. He was the one who usually canceled their
requests for warrants, overturned arrests and generally pissed most of
the officers off at least once a month. He also kept the ADP from
being sued for improper procedures, helped investigations put together
cases that held up in court and went toe to toe with the Genom lawyers
when the time came.
He was a man who could have easily had a job in any of the top law
firms in the country, but he stuck with the ADP.
Average height, but very slim, he was very pretty, to the point of
almost being feminine. Long lashes framed his green eyes, and he wore
his brown hair long. Three piece, dark power suits, bright ties and an
ever present briefcase. And while harmless looking he had a hook kick
that moved so fast it was nearly invisible and that had laid out a few
members of the TAC squad.
He took his place behind the podium at the front of the room. The
noise died down as the officers turned to look at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Genom has screwed up tonight. Combat class
boomers stored in this city, ready for deployment, armed and they even
made use of them. I suspect most of you are ready to nail them,
already got your targets picked out. Yamano-keibuho, the chairman of
Genom? Dare to dream," he placed his briefcase on the podium and
opened it. "These are all your warrant requests," he held up a thick
pile of paper. "Several of you are stepping on each other's toes in
these. Well, forget it," he tossed the paper out onto the floor. "It
is not going to happen."
"What the hell do you mean?" Asako as the first to yell out,
though several other officers were on their feet as well.
"I mean I called several judges already and they won't touch this.
You may not have seen the news lately, but Genom is being painted as
the hero in all this. Hell, we have ADP officers out there giving
interviews saying they would have been dead if it was not for those
12Bs. Now you go after Genom on this and what do you think the public
will do?" he asked the entire room.
There was silence for several seconds, no one had an answer.
"They still broke the law," Deri said.
"Not according to Genom," Tylor told him. "All those 12Bs were
being stored for shipment to the SDF. I've seen the paperwork, they
got that end covered. That they released those boomers is of course a
questionable action but there is not a judge in the city that would
convict them. They may be paying some fines, but I doubt that."
"That's a load of shit," Fujishima Ira, a TAC squad lieutenant,
said. "No way Genom could get that many Boomers armed and ready."
"Well, Genom had a bunch of boomer techs who will swear that that
is what they did. Say they used construction boomers to do the weapons
loading and stuff. Did any of you get an accurate count of how many
12Bs were out there so we can refute those statements?"
"We were too busy trying to stay alive," Ira told him.
"Which is what Genom was counting on."
"We do know where some of those Boomers came from. Those were not
standard Genom storage sites," Deri said.
"True. The main storage depot is having its security system
replaced, Genom moved all the boomers to different sites. They kept it
quiet for security reasons. And before you ask I suspect it is a load
of crap as well but I did get a warrant to check it out. Malso-keibuho
is out there right now and we all know she will find an empty storage
facility with its security system gutted."
"So we are just supposed to do nothing?" Leon asked. He wanted to
be screaming, but his heart was not in it. His meeting with Odotte had
messed him up a little and his thoughts were jumbled.
"McNichol-kichou, we can't do anything. I checked the news just
before I came in here. I saw a scene of a 12B, weapons stripped from
it, cleaning up the mess out there. Hell, some Genom suit even put a
kid up on this thing's shoulders so she could have a ride. We go after
Genom for saving the citizens of this city and we will have the
politicians all over us."
"Screw the politicos," Asako said.
"Well, what about the citizens? They might not be happy with us.
The Genom Spin Doctors will have the public calling for our
disbandment."
"Uso," Asako said.
"Uso ja nai," Tylor told her. "You know what happened tonight. The
citizens of this city saw something they had never seen before. They
saw boomers fighting boomers. How long before someone one says that it
might not be a bad idea to make that a permanent thing? Genom's
boomers have been proving very stable these days. I give it about
eight hours before people start suggesting, some joking, some serious.
So, still want to go after Genom?" he looked about the room.
"We finally had them," Ira said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"You want, we can bypass the judges. It's in our mandate. I'll
give you the warrants, now, but are you willing to deal with the
consequences?" he asked them. No one said anything. "We know Genom was
ready for something like this, that's why those B12s were there. That
means they got themselves covered, even if things went south. Who
wants to try their hand at this one?"
Toda looked up, knowing that none of the officers would take Tylor
up on that challenge, which was lucky because Tylor was bluffing to a
certain extent. Still, he expected an explosion. A loud angry one.
When Leon stood suddenly he thought it was about to begin, but
Leon just walked out of the room. It defused the entire situation.
"Kuso," Asako got up. "And the next time some TAC squad personnel
gets killed by some boomer, then what?" she didn't wait for an answer,
but stormed from the room. Everyone shared her sentiments but, they
just could not see the point of exploding over it.
Toda watched it all and wondered what had come over Leon.

"McNichol, what's with you. Why aren't you all over he old man on
this one?" Asako demanded as she chased after him.
"Because there is no point in it," he said, not looking back.
"Those bastards at Genom. The damn politicians. The citizens of
this hole for not realizing what is going on, not wanting to realize.
That's our problem."
"Maybe," Leon said, "but what's our job?"
She almost said 'to nail Genom,' but stopped herself. "To protect
the citizens," she sounded as if the words tasted bad in her mouth.
"Yea, and I can't get it in me to go after Genom for doing our job
better than we can."
Asako stopped, the thought coming as a surprise to her. It was
true. Those damn 12Bs had saved countless lives and property as well.
Some had even been destroyed, unable to fire when it put people in
danger.
Still, it did not sit well with her. She ran after Leon and caught
up with him, grabbing his shoulder, making him stop and turn to face
her. "So, on the take? Genom pay well?"
Stupid comment, she thought even as she said it. Tasteless and
stupid.
Leon punched her, he would have done the same to any officer, male
or female, who suggested such a thing.
Asako stumbled back, hit the wall and almost fell. She thought her
nose might be broken.
"Let's not have this conversation again," Leon said as he turned
around and continued to the elevators.
She carefully wiped the blood from her face, and carefully poked
at her nose, hissing in pain as soon as she caused the broken bones to
move a little.

Manabi sat in his office, reading the reports that had come to
him. Several security personnel found dead near the base of the tower,
CompIntel had already sent him up a report. Each one had a Swiss bank
account with over 30 million yen in them. Some of the insiders taken
care of by the people who had turned them against Genom. Poetic
justice perhaps.
As to where Andrews-hakase was, that was still unknown.
The intercom on his desk buzzed.
"What is it," he asked.
"Odotte-san to see you," one of the night secretaries he had
pulled from the pool told him.
"Send her in," he said.
Domino entered a moment later, she was wearing a black suit, a
bright red ribbon tied around her neck instead of a tie.
"Have you found Andrews-hakase yet?" she asked, not bothering with
any of the formalities.
"No," he said.
"Fine. I'm taking over this," she told him.
"By whose authority?" Manabi demanded.
"My own."
She said it so simply, such an innocent seeming statement, but it
said so much. There was little he could do about it. He could refuse,
take it up to Quincy, but if he backed her up... It was not something
he cared to think about. His position had changed in the last few
hours. An innocent mistake, a minor miscalculation had destroyed much
of his work.
"I'll remember this," he told her.
"Fine. Try to hinder my investigation, I will destroy you."
Manabi swallowed, hiding the sudden fear he felt. "Wakarimasu."
"Yokatta," Domino said. Then she turned and left.

Haruko was waiting for Domino when she entered her office.
"We do seem to be keeping odd hours these days," Domino smiled at
the young woman as she sat down. "What do you have for me?"
"I tracked down one of the models. She entered the city via Narita
six days ago with a Canadian passport, the name is Rei McErie."
"Where is she?"
"We have agents looking right now. I expect an answer in the next
few hours.
"I want to know as soon as you do," Domino told her.
"Hai, wakarimasu."

Yoshiro blinked his eyes, trying to focus on the room around him.
It took him a moment to realize that he was in a darkened room and
could only make out the shapes of things close to him.
"Andrews-hakase, I see you are conscious," A voice whispered in
his right ear.
"Who?" he tried to turn, but realized he was held fast in a
chair--unable to move any part of his body. The restraints were so
gentle he had not realized they were there at first.
"Tomodachi daroo?" the voice said.
"I don't know you," Yoshiro said.
"Perhaps. But I know you my good doctor."
"What do you want? Ransom?"
"I am beyond petty concerns such as money, Doctor."
"Then what?"
The lights came on suddenly, Yoshiro blinked his eyes against the
light. When his eyes cleared there was a man in front of him. He was
slim, had long brown hair and cruel blue eyes.
"I want you to build something for me," Douglas told him.
"What?"
"An OMS."
"Baka na."
"Why," Douglas moved his face close to Yoshiro's in an almost
intimate way.
"I know nothing about that system."
"Liar," Douglas said as he slapped him. The blow struck all the
harder for the fact that Yoshiro was held fast. Douglas had moved away
from him again.
"I had nothing to do with the OMS system," Yoshiro said, feeling
his mouth beginning to fill with blood. His teeth had cut into his
cheek.
"Liar," Douglas slapped him again.
"It's the truth."
"Here's the truth. During the time the OMS was being developed you
had nothing to do with it according to the research notes I have
acquired. Yet during that time you were involved in nothing, no
projects. Why was that Yoshiro-san?"
"There was nothing for me to do."
"Then why did you meet with everyone involved with development of
the OMS? Why were you given security protection as high as you were?
Why are your files locked down so tightly?"
"It's the same for any Genom researcher who does the work I do."
"True, but you were the one who first proposed this sort of system
weren't you? Back when Stingray-hakase was still building the first
prototype, working on the AI programs, you were the one suggesting a
central control system," Douglas moved close again, his breath
tickling at Yoshiro's ear. "That night, you argued with
Stingray-hakase, you called him a foolish dreamer, wanting the Boomers
to be free of such a constraint. It was after he refused to listen to
you that night that you decided to betray him wasn't it?"
"How...?"
"I know a lot Doctor. A friend of ours taught it all to me in a
flash of pain."
"Largo?"
"You should know. Wasn't it you who gave him those cruel fingers,
the ones that could give pleasure and pain?"
"I swear, I never knew what he planned."
"It doesn't matter," Douglas straightened. "You played your little
conspiratorial games, trying to get the power you thought you wanted.
You were never very good at them Doctor. They all saw through you,
except for Stingray-hakase and he was blind, lost in his work."
Yoshiro said nothing. His past had come back to him.
"Now Doctor, you are going to build me an OMS."
"Why do you want it? a second system, even if you can get it to
work, it won't do any good." Yoshiro wondered if he might talk sense
into the man in front of him.
"Because it is the key to power and revenge. Two systems Doctor,
two. What will happen will be rather interesting. Most boomers will be
unaffected, construction, services, the OMS is hardly connected to
them at all. On the other hand security and combat boomers, what will
they do?"
"Shut down probably."
"Yes, but some will suffer catastrophic failure, they will rampage
more than likely as the conflicting signals hit them. What will Genom
do? Do you think it is possible they will shut off their OMS to keep
that from happening?"
"No."
"Lies."
"Genom will not give up control of their boomers that easily."
"You lie," Douglas tried to grab up Yoshiro by his shirt, but was
hampered by the restraints and the heavy chair he was secured to. He
stepped back and then began to hit the man, punches that broke his
nose and loosened teeth.
Suddenly he stopped, getting control of himself. He moved close to
Yoshiro, relieved to see that he had not hurt the man too much. His
face would look a mess soon, but the damage was mostly superficial.
"You will give me what I want Doctor, you will. I have chemicals
that will break you, peel your mind, make you happy to do my bidding.
Think on it Doctor. The Ultimate choice is yours."
"Genom will kill me," Yoshiro said, spitting blood.
"So will I Doctor and, I am here now."

Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers. 2034
Fearful Symmetry part 5 of 6
by Shawn Hagen

Bubble Gum Crisis is the property of Artmic, Youmex and Suzuki
Toshimutsu. This work is not a challenge to any of those rights.
This is an original story based on characters and concepts
created by Suzuki Toshimutsu.

The Scene: A familiar class room but today Shawn is there alone.
"Hell, I told you not to hire her for this gig, but no, you said
she was perfect for it, and looked what happened. As I remember
correctly I just wanted a listing of vocabulary, nothing else, but you
had to have this little dog and pony show. Looked what happened!! I
don't care if she is not here, I'm not doing it. And screw my
contract, she forged my signature anyway!" she snaps, leaning back
against the chalk board.
"Whoa!" Melpomene says as she runs into the classroom, sliding to
a halt. "Was having tea with the Sun Goddess and lost track of the
time. Sorry."
"What? Amaterasu?"
"This is Japan," Melpomene gives Shawn one of those 'I think you
are kind of thick' looks.
"But your Greek, and stop looking at me like you think I'm kind of
thick."
"Greek, Japanese, we divine beings have to stick together, if only
to have something to talk about."
"What do you talk about?"
"Tormenting mortals."
"Yappari."
"Hi," Melpomene turns to face the cameras. "I'm Melpomene, Muse of
Tragedy, Kawaii and Genki. And this is Shawn, my assistant. Kawaii,
Genki and pissed off."
"Shut up," Shawn says sulkily.
"Here are some useful words and phrases. As always, please enjoy."

Vocab Notes
Kawaisou - pitiful, sad
Sabishii - lonely
Totemo - very
Osu - (Ohayou Gozaimasu, short form, masculine)
Zannen - too bad
Okite - wake up
Gomen nasai - I'm sorry
Sento - public baths

"Come on," Melpomene grabs Shawn's hand and heads off the set.
"Where are we going?"
"Amaterasu wants to meet you."
"Why?"
"I think she wants a laugh."
"I will kill you."

It was a dull pain, constant, an ache really, not so bad by itself
but, with the other things it was almost maddening. If only she could
have gotten up, stretched out, for only a second, but the restraints
held her tight.
Once again she tried to break the straps that held her to the
chair, pitting her not inconsiderable strength against the material.
It was more an exercise, flexing all her muscles, relieving some of
the pressure that was causing the pain in her back, than a serious
attempt to break free. There would be no freedom for her.
The voice came again, highly distorted, sounding deep, like it
came out of some bottomless pit.
"Tell us where he is," the voice asked again.
Rei said nothing, like all the times before. She blinked her eyes
against the bright light she was facing and wondered when they would
kill her. She could not tell them what they wanted to know.
Then the light suddenly dimmed and went out followed by the soft
fluorescents on the ceiling coming on. There was the sound of a door
opening and footsteps behind her. Someone put a hand on her head. The
touch was gentle, fingertips only, and it slid down her head, brushing
on the bare skin of her neck. Somehow the atmosphere of the room
changed.
"I want to know all you know," a woman said, her voice soft and
warm.
"I can't," Rei said.
"Can't, or won't."
Rei said nothing. Not so sure herself.
Suddenly the touch was gone from her neck and the woman moved out
in front of her.
"My name is Domino Odotte," Domino told the 33-S in front of her.
"I want to know everything you know," she repeated.
Rei looked at the woman in the black suit standing in front of
her and suddenly she realized what is was she was facing.
"You're one of us," Rei said.
"Perhaps," Domino told her, she reached down and did something to
the restraints which suddenly loosened considerably. Rei thought she
might wriggle free given a little time, but contented herself with
stretching the kinks from her frame.
"Let's start with your name," Domino said.
"Rei," Rei told her, deciding it was safe enough.
"Did you choose that or did he?"
Rei stared at Domino for a moment, something hard in her eyes,
angry, perhaps a little ashamed. "He did," she said.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Did he like it?"
"I don't know."
"Did he love you?"
"Yes," she paused. "No," she paused again. "I don't know."
"Did you love Largo?"
"Yes," Rei said, not realizing she had just given something away.
"You are a 33-S, first generation, serial number AA35B, according
to records you are still supposed to be in storage stasis in the
holding facility in Okinawa. Of course your stasis capsule was holding
the body of a sixteen year old runaway named 'Motoyama Machiko' who
died in the attempt to revive her. Human bodies were not meant to
stand up to that sort of treatment."
"I didn't know," Rei said.
"There had to be some illusion that the capsule still held its
contents. I suspect you knew that."
"Maybe," Rei said.
"What did Largo want with you?"
Rei said nothing.
"You were the drive behind his people, weren't you. You and the
others. They needed you, were addicted to you, and you made sure they
did as Largo wanted."
Rei remained silent.
"Did you seduce your owner, or did Largo do it first, then give
you away like some sad bouquet of flowers?"
"Largo seduced Douglas first," she said almost angrily, giving
away more without realizing it. There was anger in her voice.
"How long since Douglas touched you?" Domino asked.
Rei suddenly went quiet, realizing how much she had told the
woman.
"It's been a long time hasn't it," Domino reached out and brushed
some hair from the other woman's forehead. "Kawaisou."
Domino had read the reports, Rei had been in the same hotel room
alone since she had gotten to MegaTokyo. Forensic teams had checked it
out, just a few hairs and such, most likely from the cleaning staff,
though that was being checked out. The hotel staff had been fairly
certain the she had never left the room.
If this Douglas had not been intimate with her once during that
time, possible, he probably had not been for some time. Domino could
guess what was going on in his mind and could see him acting that way.
The 33-Ss were not only good at sex, they enjoyed it. It would be
hard for one to be celibate for so long, though certainly not
impossible, as Domino knew. But is was still an opening that could be
exploited. And she was 3rd gen after all, the answers she sought would
be hers, with a little work.
She bent forward and kissed the woman, brushing her lips against
Rei's. "Kawaisou Rei-chan," she said again. "Sabishii ne," kissing
her, harder.
"Hai, totemo," Rei said, feeling her body responding, feeling
herself being dragged along, not willing to stop it. Largo, Douglas,
they had told her that they loved her when they made love to her, but
neither had really meant it. Domino would not tell her that, she could
sense it, but she would treat her with more respect. They were sisters
after all.
Domino released the restraints fully and pulled Rei from the
chair, lying her down on the floor, sliding on top of her, kissing her
again.
The people supposedly interrogating Rei were simply watching a
computer construct, they had been since Domino entered the room. She
had put the proper locks on the room, only Quincy, and perhaps a few
others, would be able to see what was really happening. Not that it
mattered, but Domino hoped they were all busy.
Balancing herself on one hand she slid the other hand into the
waist band of Rei's slacks.

The ADP building felt empty, a large number of officers were in
the hospital, some were in the morgue. Nene saw a number of new faces,
most of them temporary replacements in case something happened, some
freshly assigned, still, they were few in numbers.
She found Leon in the office, sitting in his desk, staring up at
the ceiling.
"Osu, Nene-chan," he said.
"Ohayou," she replied.
"Anything new for me?"
"No."
"Zannen ne," he shifted to look at her. "Got any opinions on Genom
these days?"
"Just because they work to improve their public image and do good
doesn't mean they can break the law," she told him.
"Good," Leon got to his feet. "Come on, we have work to do."
"What?"
"Well, we are going to upset the people of this city by
investigating Genom. I'm not going to bother with those 12Bs they
released last night, but we know there is a lot of other stuff we can
nail them for, ne, Nene-chan," he walked towards the exit.
"Hai, soo desu," Nene said as she followed him.
"Heard that Kaoru finally broke your heart last night," Leon said,
baiting her, wondering if she was emotionally up to the work.
"Heard you might be paying for a motoroid unit Leon-chan," she shot
back.

After leaving the holding cell Domino first stopped in the
apartment she kept in the Tower. It was one of the perks of her
position. She used the shower then changed into a light gray suit,
choosing a pair of slacks, eschewing her usual preference for skirts.
Next she went to her office suite. In her private office she found
Haruko asleep on her couch. She, like many others in the Tower, had
been working very hard. While she would have preferred to let her
sleep she needed her to run some errands.
"Tetsu-kun, okite," Domino said.
Haruko sat up quickly, shaking her head for a moment to clear it.
"Odotte-sama, gomen nasai," she said, bowing deeply from where she sat
on the couch.
"Daijoubu," Domino said, waving off the woman's apology. "I need
you to do some things for me."
She took a seat behind her desk and turned her computer on. Once
she had logged on she selected the information she wanted then put a
disk into one of the slots and downloaded the information onto it.
Next she took a piece of paper from her desk and began writing,
stopping every few moments to think. It was not that she needed to
think about the encryption code she was using but, she liked to
maintain a certain illusion about herself.
Once she was finished writing she sealed the paper in an envelope
and handed it and the disk to Haruko.
"I want you to contact a man. Everything you need to know is on
that disk. Use as much money as you need to push that through as fast
as possible. Make sure he gets that envelope. Take a C-class with you.
Before you leave tell Madigan-san, Johnson-san and Sosuke-san I wish
to meet with them in the conference room."
"Wakarimasu," Haruko said.
"And once you are finished that get some sleep."
"Hai," Haruko said then left the room, recognizing the dismissal.
Domino liked Haruko, she was coming along and had so much promise,
but ultimately she was human. She was not untiring. She could not
protect herself easily from most of the threats she faced. She was not
up to--and might never be--up to going on combat missions.
She turned her thoughts to Rei. She could prove useful, if handled
very carefully. She was not thinking of replacing Haruko, but she did
need another assistant.

January 16th, Wednesday, 14:21

Sylia took off her sunglasses and opened her long coat up as soon
as the sliding doors had closed behind her.
The sento was an interesting change in meeting places.
She removed her shoes in the genkan and put on a pair of the
bright red slippers that had the sento's name on them in garish gold
lettering.
Following Fargo's directions she walked down the hall, passing
through a common changing room on her way to the back office. There
was only one man in there, getting dressed after his bath. He had a
tattoo of a dragon on his back. They ignored each other.
Fargo was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the desk.
"Want to take a bath? Scrub your back," he offered.
"No," she told him, moving to take a seat behind the desk. "Is it
safe?"
"I got all the standard anti-eavesdropping devices running."
"What is it?"
"Genom wants to hire you."
"Why?"
"Last night's fireworks, in all probability a cover to snatch a
Genom property."
"What?"
"Who. Andrews Yoshiro-Hakase."
"Why was he taken?"
"Genom won't say."
"The job?"
"They know where he is being held. They want a specialist team to
go in and get him. You will be working with B12s and some other
boomers on this."
"They don't trust the boomers to do the rescue?"
"I think they just want to be sure it is done. I think you'll be
more back up."
Sylia said nothing for a while. She did not like the thought of
working for Genom, but by doing so she might get more information. At
the time she was painfully short on information. Also Andrews-hakase
had been one of her father's friends, though she knew they had argued
about certain aspects of the boomer development program. He was also a
man with a number of skills if her research was correct. Best that
those skills remain in Genom's control where they would not be abused,
too much.
"How much?"
Fargo took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it
across the desk to her.
It was written is code, Sylia did not recognize it. Fargo
decrypted some of it though, including the proposed fee for the job.
"Tell them I want ten times this amount," Sylia said, looking up at
Fargo as she handed the paper back to him. She was surprised to see a
shocked look on his face. She wondered if he might be scared. It would
be the first time but baiting Genom like that could be dangerous.
"Fargo-san?"
"What?" he looked at her. "Sorry, was just thinking about my
commission on this," he smiled, taking the page back.
"Maybe you can buy a new suit," Sylia got to her feet.
"Maybe I can buy a house."
"Sayounara," Sylia said as she left the room.
Fargo watched her go then gave his suit a look over. As gutter rat
coloured as ever, no need to replace it quite yet. Sylia just did not
appreciated the values of a cheap suit, he decided.

Priss sat on the window seat, looking out at the bare land around
her home. Construction equipment and Boomers were beginning to clear
the debris away from the demolition. Soon they would start building
condominiums and Priss would get neighbors. The upper middle class,
their kids and friends. Not her type of people, but she would be
surrounded by them eventually. Probably stop by to complain her
factory spoiled the look of the area. Or maybe they would tell her it
was a quaint example of retro industrial.
It would be funny in a way, she thought.
Her phone rang. She had to shift around to grab it with her good
hand, the sling keeping her from using the injured arm.
"Moshi moshi, Priss-desu," she said.
There was a series of clicks then nothing. Priss cradled the
handset and got to her feet. She was going to have to take another
taxi; she suspected she was going to be using her arm a lot soon and
would rest it as much as possible.

"Was that legal?" Nene asked Leon softly as she entered the ADP
building.
"Well, depends on how good your lawyer is," Leon told her.
"That does not make me feel better you know."
"Sorry, best I can do."
"We won't be able to use any of that evidence will we."
"No, not that it is much good. Bunch of C-class stored in an
unofficial facility. Genom probably already has had a government
official loose the paperwork. It will be found if needed to clear
them."
Nene shook her head. "It's funny you know. I'm beginning to, well
respect them in a way."
"Nothing funny about it. Genom is very good," Leon told her. "It's
only smart to respect them."
"It's like, well, looking at a piece of art."
Leon smiled. "We have to be better artists."
They said nothing more as they took the elevator up to their
offices. Nene checked her mail when she got it and found a suspect
message. She quickly made up and excuse to leave early and then went
to get changed.

"Working for Genom?" Priss asked, sounding less than impressed.
"I'm more interested in keeping Andrews-hakase's knowledge from
certain people."
"What will we be dealing with?" Nene asked.
"There are six of those Flex units plus about thirty boomers built
by an English company, ultimately owned by Genom. They are a mix,
C-Class and D-Class equivalents," Sylia told them.
"Support?" Priss asked.
"Genom will be sending in a number of B12s as well as C-Class. The
English models are slightly different in appearance so there should
be little trouble identifying which is which."
"So we go in there, grab this Andrews if we can?"
"Yes."
"How did they get that many boomers into the city?" Nene wanted to
know.
"The six Flex units came in last night under cover of all the
confusion. The rest were smuggled in over the last month from Korea,
according to the data Genom gave us."
"How do we know this isn't some sort of set up?" Priss asked.
"It might be. But I see no way Genom could benefit from such an
action. It is possible they are setting us up as stalking horses, but
that is chance we have to take, or at least it is a chance I'm willing
to take."
"Do you think you will be able to find out more by taking this
job?" Nene asked.
"That is one of my hopes."
"Where is this going to happen?" Priss asked.
"The GPCC building," Sylia told them.

"Are you ready to talk yet Andrews-hakase?"
"No," Yoshiro said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. He
mumbled slightly around his swollen lips.
"Fine, we will start with a simple truth serum, no lasting effects,
harmless. Hopefully that will be all we need," Douglas told him as he
prepared the syringe.
"I don't know what you want from me," Yoshiro told him, "the OMS
was never my project.
"We'll see won't we."
The restraints holding him had been loosened, but still held him
tight enough he could not stop Douglas from pushing the needle into
his arm.
Other than the sting on the needle there was little else for
almost a minute, then suddenly he felt as if he was drunk, detached.
"There is a minor hallucinogen in that, don't be alarmed at
anything you see," Douglas told him. "Now, tell me, what do you know
about the OMS?"
"Only that Genom uses it to keep track of their boomers."
"Come now doctor, everyone knows that. You must know something
more. Where is the main system?"
"I don't know."
"Where is the main system Doctor, what harm in telling me that?"
"I don't know."
"I'll let the drug work a little longer Doctor, hopefully you will
be more cooperative then. If not we will try something stronger,"
Douglas got up and walked to the exit.
Yoshiro watched him go, things at the edges of his vision were
melting and seemed to flow up towards the ceiling. He suddenly could
not remember where he was for several seconds. They were all bad
signs. He might soon lose touch with reality and if that happened
there was no telling what he might start saying.

Douglas went into the small lounge near the room they had made
Andrews-hakase's holding cell. There was fresh coffee waiting for him
and a box of assorted pastries. He poured himself a cup of the hot
liquid and picked out an eclair from the box. The coffee was not
strong enough and the pastry was stale. He finished both off though
and went for another cup. As he was pouring the liquid the lights
flickered off then a moment later they came back on. Far off her could
hear the sound of the emergency generator.
He left the cup and ran from the lounge. Halfway to the stairs he
met Daniel Emaba, a South African expatriate he had hired as his
security chief.
"Trouble," Daniel said, a hint of his accent still remained.
"What?"
"Genom."
"When?"
"About two minutes ago, they deployed a very large force around
the building, shut us down completely."
"Have you talked to them yet?"
"Only to tell them if they came in we would kill the Doctor. Then
I came to find you."
"What was their reaction to the threat?"
"Said they didn't care."
"As I thought. We still have full control of the building's
computer?"
"Yes."
"All right, come on," Douglas set off back to the lounge. Once
there he opened up his laptop and began to search for the plans he
wanted. "Here," he waved Daniel over to him. "This is the third
sub-basement, just below us, the west wall," he pointed to a place on
the map. "Here," he moved his finger away from the building, "is an
old storm sewer pipe, leads right into the ocean. Get some of those
construction boomers we shut down, have Mary pull their connection to
the OMS and then give them those industrial lasers and start them
cutting us a tunnel."
"That will take..."
"About an hour, yes, I know. We will have to do out best to hold
out until then. We'll use the boomers as front line troops. Get
everyone together near where the tunnel will be then cut all the
lights in the building. We'll let the Flex go as well. Wide open
parameters, they just avoid the third sub basement."
"I'm on it," Daniel said, turning around and running from the
room.
Douglas began to pack up his things. He wondered how Genom had
found him. Hiding right under their noses in the newly constructed
GPCC center had seemed like an excellent idea. It was big, mostly
empty and supposedly very secure. Suddenly he wondered about Rei,
wondered what he had been babbling about the last time he had seen
her, what he might have said. He had not bothered to check on her in
several days. Maybe that had been his mistake.
Little he could do about it. He would escape and worry about her
later.

Genom sealed off the GPCC, the roads leading to it, the airspace,
nothing got close without their say so. The police wanted to know what
was happening, but Genom simply ignored their requests. They told the
city officials that it was a training drill, that they were on Genom
property and it was corporate business. It placated the officials and
made the police angrier.
Leon and Deri stood on the roof of an APC, watching the scene
through binoculars. Genom was making observations as hard as they
could, there was a huge amount of various interference. Physical
blinds, intensely bright spotlights shining outwards, smoke and other
things.
"See anyone you recognize?" Deri asked.
"Thought I might have spotted Katherine Madigan getting out of
that helicopter that put down, hard to be sure though."
"There might have been a 12B wandering around in there, hard to be
sure."
"How long since they threw all that up?"
"Ten minutes," Deri said.
"Damn, we'll never find out what is going on this way," Leon
jumped down onto the roof of the cab then slid down the windshield,
landing on the bumper. He stepped down and walked towards a helicopter
that had a group of people around it.
The press helicopter had tried to get close, ignoring the no fly
zone that had gone up around the building. The end result had been
predictable.
Genom had forced the helicopter down away from the site, only
doing cosmetic damage in the process. Boomers standing on the landing
skids and hanging onto the fuselage tended to do that.
"How are they?" Leon asked one of the medics.
"A bit shaken up, but fine."
"Okay, if you want some help defending yourself against the
charges you are going to be up against tell me what you saw in there,"
Leon told the three people who had been in the craft. Reporter,
cameraman and pilot.
"We saw nothing," the reporter said, sounding disgusted. "They
flashed us with lasers, pin point stuff, enough to keep up from
getting a good look at what was going on. Hit the camera with
something more powerful," she explained.
"What about you?" Leon looked at the pilot, wondering if Genom had
blinded him as well. "I got a quick look, but when the boomer landed
on the skid and pointed that mouth cannon at me, well I was a bit too
busy to look around."
"Did you see anything?"
"A bunch of boomers on the ground. Lots of vehicles, not much
else," he said.
"Okay, get them out of here, shield them from any Genom types,
we'll see if we can get it cleared up before it goes to court. You
might loose your license," Leon told the pilot.
"Great," the man looked over at the reported who looked away.
"We got something Leon," Deri said.
"What?"
"Not here," he led him away from the news team to a private area
near one of the communication APCs. "We just got a report, someone saw
the Knight Sabers pass though one of the Genom roadblocks."
"They run it?"
"No, they were let through. I would guess they are working for
Genom."
"Genom would have to be pretty desperate to bring in outside
talent."
"I was thinking the same thing."
"Damn it, I want to get in there. When is Tylor going to get us
those warrants?"
"When Genom can control what we will find," Deri said.
"Kuso," Leon slammed his fist against the APC, causing a dull
thud. One of the communication techs stuck his head out the door way
to see what was up. After meeting Leon's gaze he pulled his head back
in. "Let's just go."
"They got tasers and if a boomer decides to get in our way we
aren't going to move it."
"If they stop us they stop us."
"Okay," Deri nodded.
"We'll take one of the APCs."
"Any reason?"
"I don't want my Road Chaser being scratched, or worse, in this."
"You drive."

Priss rode the Typhoon II, Sylia her Hurricane One, Nene was doing
her best to control the experimental motoslave which kept wanting to
fall over. She wondered how Linna had managed the big bike. Two other
motoslaves in motoroid form followed after them.
There was a large space, surrounded by vehicles and boomers that
Sylia directed them into. She slowed to a stop. Priss skidded one
hundred and eighty degrees, leaving marks on the brick. Nene almost
dropped hers and was glad for the strength her hardsuit gave her or
she would have never been able to hold it up. The two motoroids
flanked Nene.
"Stay here," Sylia said, getting off her bike. There was a man
coming towards them. She went to meet him.
Takizawa Tadashi was one of Genom's top security people, he
handled field work. He did not give the figure in the white blue
armour coming towards him much more thought than he gave any outside
talent he had to deal with. The Knight Sabers, while possessing some
powerful equipment, were not his concern. They could never be, as they
were, a serious threat to Genom.
"Takizawa-desu," he said once they were close enough.
"I've read the reports you sent us. Any changes?" Sylia asked, her
voice reproduced by computer. The ultimate masking.
"None," he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a disk.
"These are the plans to the building."
"Fine," Sylia took the disk though she had no intention of using
it. Nene had hacked the plans already. Safer than using Genom data.
"How should we go in?"
"The people inside have the place locked down. We are going to blow
some entrances in a minute. Take whichever you like. You are a free
unit. Our boomers have instructions to help you if you need it, ignore
you otherwise."
Sylia tuned and left, walking back towards the motoroids.
Tadashi watched her go then turned and walked back to the CP.
"Big place," Priss said to Sylia when she came back to the group.
She indicated the GPCC building.
"There is still a lot of open space in the building, cargo
elevators, the basements, plenty of room for the boomers to move
around in.
Priss nodded.
Sylia looked up at the building, not so long ago destroyed, with a
number of Towers. Of course Genom had rebuilt, a perfect showcase for
their new construction boomers. Thousands of boomers being used the
world over and not a single one had rampaged. The new Genom boomers
were completely stable and the world knew.
She wondered what it would take to truly hurt the company. She
found the answers she came up with to be disturbing.
"How's your arm?" Sylia asked, hoping to distract herself.
"Hurts, but it should be fine. The pain killers are taking it down
to a bearable level."
Sylia nodded and wondered if she might not have to cast it after it
was all over just to give Priss the chance to heal.

Domino and Katherine sat in one of the CPs, watching everything on
the monitors.
"A4, move to the right and zoom in," Katherine said. One of
monitors view changed as the surveillance probe tracked right then it
zoomed in on the Knight Sabers. "We should find out more about them."
"To what point?" Domino asked, she picked up one of the keypads
and began giving commands that way. The surveillance probes began to
move about. "Their technology is impressive, but nothing we could not
produce ourselves given time."
"Is anyone investigating them at all?"
"I don't know," Domino said.
"They are dangerous."
"If the Chairman ever decides he agrees with you then they will
cease to exist I think. That will happen when he no longer finds them
useful."
"They are loose variables, hard to predict and therefore
dangerous."
"I agree, but they are serving our needs now."
"And perhaps their own."
"And perhaps their own," Domino agreed. "Sumimasen," she got up.
"There is someone I want to talk to."
Kate watched her go then turned her attention back to the
monitors, wondering what it was Domino had seen.

Domino met Devon coming out of the secure communications truck.
The techs were outside, looking a little put off. She realized that
Devon had kicked them out.
"Okami-sama, konbanwa," she said.
"Odotte-kun," he smiled at her.
"I am a little surprised to see you here," she told him.
"Occasionally I have to make an appearance at these sort of things
just to let everyone know I am still current."
"I'm not sure if it is safe here," Domino said and a moment later,
as if to punctuate her words, the breaching charges went off. Domino
turned to watch the boomers go in. The Knight Sabers followed a group
of C-Class in on the ground floor.
"No it isn't, but it is safer for some," he said. "I am going to
the secure post to watch all this on monitor. I will see you later,"
he told her, walking away.
Domino watched him go then climbed the stairs into the truck. The
techs were already back at work, making sure everything was all right.
"What did Okami-sama want?" she asked.
"I don't know Odotte-sama," one of the techs told her. "He erased
any records of what he did."
Domino nodded then walked over to one of the computer terminals
and went to work. He had done an admiral job of hiding whatever it was
he had done, but Domino knew the system fairly well and knew where
useful signs were to be found.
In the end she could not be sure but suspected that Devon had
added something to the boomers' SOPs for the mission. It was very
interesting.

"Up or down?" Priss asked when they entered the building, she was
still riding the Typhoon II.
"Down," Sylia said. "We'll stay together as long as we can but, I
think we will have to split up. "Let's go." She set off down the hall
toward a flight of stairs, her motoslave walking beside her.
Without light they were making do with a lot of computer
enhancements of their sensors. Near the breech in the wall plenty of
light leaked in from the outside but when they got farther in Sylia
knew they would suffer a little.
They were halfway to the stairs when an elevator door opened and
two Boomers stepped out. That was when the two Hurricane Ones that
Nene was running opened up with their 25mm cannons and the boomers
ceased to be a problem.
"Hope they don't make me pay for that elevator," Nene said.

Leon leaned out of the APC's driver's side window. "I'd like to
talk to someone in charge," he told the Genom security guard as he
flashed his badge.
"I'm sorry Captain, this area is off limits to everyone but Genom
personnel."
"And if I decided to run your road block? You wouldn't fire on a
member of the ADP. That might give us reason to come in here."
"Just a moment Captain," the man said, taking a few steps back and
activating his radio.
Leon and Deri could not hear what he was saying, but they guessed
how the conversation was going. Finally stepped close to them.
"Tonaka-san will see you. She is in the communications truck just
up this road," he pointed to an small van with a satellite dish on the
top. It was still quite some distance from where everything was going
on, but it was closer.
"Domo," Leon smiled as he put the APC in gear and drove towards
the van. As he got closer he noticed the number of C-Class boomers
increased. Incentive not to try to go farther he thought.
He pulled the APC up beside the van and got out. Waiting for him
was a middle aged woman who had a motherly appearance.
"Captain McNichol, you wanted to ask some questions?"
Leon looked over at Deri. Deri shrugged his shoulders.
"What is this all about?" he asked her.
"A training exercise perhaps?" she smiled at him.
Leon felt like banging his head against the side of the APC. He
realized that he was going to have a long talk with this woman and she
would tell him absolutely nothing for all the words she would use.
If not for the fact he was closer to everything he would have
left.

Domino and Katherine both sat up when part of the west wall on the
33rd level exploded out.
"Which team was up there?" Domino asked.
"A2, and they are no longer transmitting," Katherine told her.
"Ops just sent out a command to the boomers to watch out for mines and
the like."
"Have ops realized that someone is trying to tunnel out yet?"
"No, should we tell them yet?"
"I think we should give them a few more minutes, they deserve a
chance."
"Since we are on the topic, and since we will likely have to
inform them, who do you want to replace Kingston-san when we force him
to retire?" Katherine asked.
"Do you have a favourite?"
"One of my security people would be up to the job."
"Competent?"
"I wouldn't suggest her otherwise."
"I'll back you on that. Of course I will expect similar help if I
ever need it."
"Of course," Katherine told her.

Leon looked at the flaming wreckage that blew free from the
building. He turned to Tonaka, "Training?"
"It is our building after all," she said calmly. "But perhaps it
is terrorist group?"
Leon looked to Deri who stepped forward to take over. Maybe he
could get something useful from her, but he doubted it.

Nene could not say for sure when she had been separated from Sylia
and Priss. It had probably happened when part of the first basement
had collapsed. She had been lucky to make it, with her motoroid
entourage, to one of the cargo elevators. The shaft had provided a
quick way down to the next basement level and safety.
Now she wandered the huge space, looking for the others and trying
to find something useful, like a functioning computer terminal.
She had the two Hurricane Ones moving in front of her and behind
her. On two small windows projected on her HUD were visual feeds from
the units. The EX1 walked behind her, the 105mm held at port.
The motoslave in front of her stopped on the threshold of a large
room, scanning it before entering. It gave Nene a 75% probability of
an ambush.
Nene put it on watch mode and sent the motoslave behind her up to
support the first. As she gave the commands to the two mecha she was
struck by the feeling that she was playing some sort of tactical game.
It was all safe for her--no distractions. This was the way to fight
she thought.
Moving up close she sent the EX1 ahead as well for extra support.
She gave the motoslaves' their instructions and then initiated her
plan.
One of the motoslaves fired up its hover rotors, leapt up and flew
across the room.
It turned out that there was indeed an ambush there, two of the
D-Class equivalent boomers. They opened up on the flying motoslave
with their machine guns, using them to get range for their cannons.
The second Hurricane one, from its stable position used the muzzle
flash of the machine guns to target its weapon and fired short bursts
at both the boomers. Sylia had given the motoslaves larger reserves of
ammunition for the mission, but it was still limited.
The first motoslave spun about in the air and dropped to the
ground, opening up on the two Boomers as well. Caught in a deadly
cross-fire the two boomers did not last long.
Nene could not help but to feel a small thrill. She had taken out
two boomers, by herself, well with some help from the motoslaves but
they were ultimately extensions of her.
With more confidence she set out across the floor, ready for
anything.

Sylia hoped that Nene and Priss would be all right, she could
spare little more than that thought for them. She had to get down, to
the lower levels, as soon as possible. That was where Andrews-hakase
would be. She was sure of it.
The quick searches of each level took time and she was forced into
confrontations with the few boomers she ran into. Genom's boomers were
also down there, confusing her a little--she had even fired on a few
of them, but they had not returned it. They had been programmed to
help if needed, but ultimately ignore the Knight Sabers.
She was in the first sub-basement when she found the first serious
impediment to her progress. Explosive charges, hidden fairly well,
cutting off the stairwells and elevator shafts. It least it meant she
was getting closer.
She wondered if all the ways down had been similarly mined. It
seemed likely.
How are they tripped, Sylia wondered? No sign of wires. Would
someone signal them? Were they proximity fuses? She moved close to one
of the stairwells and used her sensors, first passively, to examine
the explosives.
She could detonate them, hope that it did not cause the stairs to
collapse, sealing off the entrance, but by the placement that seemed
to be the point. They all looked to be well placed, not haphazard work
done just after Genom showed. They had been prepared. So how did they
arm them?
A few minutes of examination told her they were proximity fused,
each one had a motion detector on it, move too close and they would go
off. However, the motion detectors could be defeated. Her suit sensors
detected clear areas if she moved slowly enough. How far the
explosives went she still did not know.
The motoslave would never make it. Too big.
"Hold this area," Sylia told it, then she walked slowly towards
the stairs, picking her way down with the utmost care. The fighting
she had been hearing was getting closer. She hoped to be down by the
time it came close enough to be a threat.

Priss had gone up, she had been forced up. When the ceiling came
down she and Typhoon II had escaped by returning to the first floor.
She had been driven to the second floor by a firefight during her
search for another way down. Since then she had climbed three more
floors, dodging explosions and battles.
The area around her was cavernous, a huge open space, dark, the
lights out, the shutters rolled down over the windows. The ceiling was
twice as high as the other floors she had been on, maybe even higher.
Was the place supposed to be some sort of storage area? She wondered,
walking across the room.
Her sensors warned her of movement a moment before the firing
started. She dove one way, the Typhoon II moved the other, they both
opened up on the location the firing was coming from. The boomers
there were quickly ripped apart.
"Let's get hell out of here," Priss said, examining the map on her
HUD. There was a cargo elevator that would take her to the fourth
basement, just above the first sub-basement. Exactly what she needed.
As she approached her sensors detected a soft hum, it took her a
moment to identify it as some sort of motor. Typhoon II informed her
the elevator was coming up. She turned on her identity beacon for a
moment, if it was another Knight Saber or a motoslave they would
likely respond in kind. She got no signal back.
"Move," she ordered, firing off her jets, leaping back towards the
middle of the room. The Typhoon II came down ten meters to her right.
When the elevator opened one of the Flex stepped out, the heavy
foot crashing loudly on the floor. Priss' computer IDed it as one of
the copies and gave her a threat rating which was high enough to tell
her that she should be worried. The space she was in was wide open and
offered little cover.
"Up," she ordered the Typhoon II, they needed a better area to
fight in.
Dodging the Flex's fire they made for a set of close stairs--the
huge boomer following.

Sylia looked at the chronometer projected on her HUD. It had taken
her nearly ten minutes to move down the single set of stairs, clear of
the explosives. Above her she could hear the sound of battle, the
distinctive sound of her motoslave's cannon. Hopefully it could hold
off the boomers long enough.
Past the explosives she found their arming control. She silently
debated whether she should turn it off or not. If she didn't the
boomers would not be able to follow her, yet at the same time it might
seal off that avenue of escape.
She reached down and disarmed the charges, then turned and headed
down the stairs, sure she would soon find Andrews-hakase.

Nene fell back as the boomers came, they were becoming a threat
and she over-reacted. The EX1 lifted its 105 and fired two shots
directly at them. One was ripped apart like paper by a direct hit and
the other two were flung aside by a near miss. After that the two
Hurricane Ones quickly finished them off.

The Flex held the shattered remains of the motoslave in its arms,
examining it. It had IDed the unit already as one of the Knight Sabers
back up mecha. Still, it had little information on the unit. Probes
snaked out from its arms, burrowing into the unit, analyzing it.
There was a booming, and a shudder, the Flex looked up from its
work. That had been a discharge from a heavy weapon, greater than a
100mm. Something that required its attention.
Still carrying the motoslave it headed for one of the cargo
elevators.

The Typhoon II slammed a punch into the Flex with cracked the
armour a little. The boomer responded, knocking the motoslave back
several meters and tearing the control vanes from its left hover
rotor.
Priss moved in fast, a rocket assisted kick--backed up by the leg
bombers--slamming into the boomer's upper left arm. Priss expected to
carry through, but was instead stopped by the armour. She twisted
about and slammed her knuckle bomber into its face with little real
effect.
The boomer slapped her aside, sending her crashing through the
wall behind her. The blow cracked the armour on her right side and no
doubt had done same the same to the ribs. Her hardsuit was already
administering pain killers but they could not help much. Enough to
really dull the pain would affect her fighting abilities.
She heard the booming of the Typhoon II's 35mm. Through the hole
she had made Priss saw the Flex turning to face that threat. Hitting
her thrusters she launched herself at the boomer, arming one of her
mines.

Nene detected something big heading her way, but it was emitting a
identity beacon. Sylia's motoslave. She relaxed slightly, but wondered
where Sylia was.
When the Flex stepped out of the shadow, several meters away,
carrying the remains of the motoslave Nene realized that she had been
tricked, by a boomer no less.
Fortunately for her the Flex seemed more interested in the
motoslaves rather than her.
One of the Hurricane Ones had its left arm burnt off by the Flex's
laser cannon. Nene gave her commands then moved, the motoslaves going
off in different directions. That bought them a few seconds as the
Flex decided which target to go after.

Bubble Gum Crisis
An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers. 2034
Fearful Symmetry part 6 of 6
by Shawn Hagen

Bubble Gum Crisis is the property of Artmic, Youmex and Suzuki
Toshimutsu, this work is not in any way a challenge to those rights.
This is an original story based on characters and concepts created
by Suzuki Toshimutsu.
Thanks to my proof readers Brian and Suika.

Vocab Corner

We are presented with the familiar classroom scene, Melpomene is
seated at the desk, Shawn is leaning against the chalkboard.
"Hello. I'm Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy, and you're not."
"Chevy Chase said it first," Shawn says.
"And who do you think inspired him?"
"Thalia, she handles comedy."
"Thalia!" Melpomene slams her hands down on the desk, fire burning
in her eyes. "Little miss funny," she spits out sarcastically. "Sure,
she could tell a joke, but who can't? Comedy is easy, tragedy is
hard."
"I thought it was death?"
"Trust me, I know."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Good. Now, I'm Melpomene, Muse of Tragedy, this is my genki
assistant, Shawn and we're here to..."
"If you say 'pump you up' I'll smack you."
"...tell you some of the vocab. So start writing genki assistant."
"All things considered I like Thalia better," Shawn mumbles as she
(remember, don't want to mess about with gender specific pronouns)
picks up a piece of chalk and begins to write.
"What was that?" Melpomene demands.
"Nothing."

Choushi - condition
doo - how
yoi - good
yokatta - good (past tense)
kaerimasu - to go home
Odaijini - take care

Priss was breathing heavily. Every breath hurt. There was a deep
gouge in the armour of her right leg. The sharp fingers on the
boomer's hand had cut down into the skin. It was not a deep cut, but
it hurt.
The Typhoon II was not faring much better. One of the hover rotors
had been ripped off, its left hand was mangled and there were other
signs of abuse. The two of them had hurt the Flex, but it seemed to be
in better shape than they were.
Her railgun was down to three shots. She had spare magazines, but
doubted that she would have the time to load them. Three mines left,
leg bomber depleted, and one more charge for her knuckle bomber. Not
that much really.
If she could have run she would have, but that was no longer an
option. The Flex had herded her into an area with no exits. The only
way out was through it. She wondered if there were any other Genom
boomers around. A C-Class had gotten itself ripped apart earlier when
it had attacked the Flex. Priss doubted that she would get that lucky
again.
"Okay, hit it hard," she told the Typhoon II.
When it came around the corner that was exactly what the Typhoon
II did, moving fast and hard, determined to protect its mistress at
all cost. It was part of its programming. Priss was unable to move as
she watched the unbridled display of machine savagery. The motoslave
tore one of the boomer's laser cannons off and used it like a club,
knocking it back, partially crushing its head.
Perhaps the boomer had been surprised, perhaps it was just
analyzing the threat. Either way while the Typhoon II's initial attack
had been quite effective the boomer's counter strike was even more so.
It kicked the motoslave, sending it crashing against one of the outer
walls. Unlike the softer interior walls this one did not give.
Even as the motoslave was crashing against the wall Priss was
flying towards the boomer, intent on shoving her knuckle bomber into
one of the cracks the Typhoon II had opened up in that armour.
The boomer surprised her.
The leg that had hit the Typhoon II was back on the ground, the
other coming up to intercept her. Priss was amazed that anything so
big could move that fast. There was nothing she could do to stop the
impact, little she could do to lessen it.
Priss slammed backwards through an interior wall, then another,
finally being stopped by a third. Her hardsuit had just suffered a
massive failure, all systems down. She felt much the same. Ribs that
had been cracked were broken, probably in more than one place. Moving
slightly offered the hope that no other bones were broken, but she
could not be sure.
At first she mistook the thumping for her heart. Then she realized
that it was the Flex, walking towards her.
Information was being projected on her HUD again. Two minutes to
bypass damaged systems and to give her thirty percent operating
function. Might as well be three hundred percent for all the good it
would do her. The Typhoon II would be operational at fifty percent in
little under a minute. Too late to do her much good.
Priss pushed herself up and considered jettisoning her armour, hope
that she might get away without it. Perhaps the boomer would ignore
her then, no longer see her as a threat. Then she realized that she
wasn't much of a threat now. The uncomfortable conclusion was that
things had become personal.
She was getting to her knees when she got visual back. She could
just make out the approaching form of the boomer, static was breaking
across the display every few seconds making it hard to be sure of
anything.
That was when the Flex was violently knocked to the side. In its
place was a Bu-12B.
It seemed to set itself up between the Flex and Priss, even though
that put it as a disadvantage, Priss suspected it was just bad luck on
the 12B's part.
The two boomers fought, their weapons loud and extremely damaging
in the confined space.
The 12B was fresh and undamaged. The Flex was damaged but that
seemed to make little difference. They ripped into each other, tearing
off components, breaching armour, dark fluids pumped from those wounds
and mixed on the floor.
Then, the Flex slammed the stump of its right arm into the 12B,
knocking it backwards, it followed up with a kick that staved in the
left side of the other boomer, getting much more force behind it than
it had with either the Typhoon II or Priss.
After that the fight was largely one sided as the Flex pounded the
12B to death.
It stood over the remains, stained with cooling and other fluids,
some of them its own, some of them the 12B's, like some monster.
It was in that moment that Priss hit it, pushing her knuckle bomber
deep into one of the cracks that marred the Flex's armoured carapace
before triggering it.
The super-heated gas cut through the remaining armour and deep
inside the Flex. The concussive force tore the insides apart as it
ripped through. Priss leapt back, ready to continue the fight, but
the Flex fell forward, an explosion ripping through it, blowing small
chunks of armour about the room, knocking Priss back.
She got slowly to her feet, looking at the burning remains. The 12B
had bought her some time, had ensured that the thirty percent she was
operating at had been enough. Priss shook her head, surprised that she
would actually feel grateful to a boomer.
A noise behind her made her turn, but it was only the Typhoon II,
back on its feet. She was about to insult it but stopped herself,
remembering how it had attacked the Flex. Sylia had told her that the
mecha would protect her to the best of its ability in any situation.
Priss could not blame it for not being up to the task. She had not
been.
"Come on, we still have to find the others," Priss told it,
walking slowly from the room. Every step caused a flare of pain, but
it was not too bad. At least she could still feel it.

The Flex Nene had been fighting had changed its tactics. At first
it had been more interested in the motoslaves, they being the more
dangerous targets, but it had reanalyzed the situation since then.
It was the hardsuit that was coordinating the larger units
movements. The Flex had not been able to break those coded
transmissions, or jam them. That only left destroying the hardsuit.
Nene was not aware of that.
She was fairly sure where the boomer was. Her plan was simple.
Send one of the 105 rounds into its location and when it came out
after the EX1 the two others would catch it in a cross fire. The EX1
would then fire a round directly at it. While she did not know if that
would stop it she was fairly sure it would slow it down.
When the heavy round came down near the Flex it did indeed move
out from cover, but instead of charging the motoslave that had just
fired at it it went after Nene.
None of the motoslaves were close enough to support her. Nene
realized how much trouble she was in and ran.
The Flex followed her, closing the distance. She sent out her
commands, she needed to bring the motoslaves in to support her.
Then part of the ceiling above her came down, the Flex having
targeted it instead of the fast moving hardsuit. Nene fell as the
rubble hit her. She was just pushing herself back up when the Flex
lashed out with one of its hands, cutting two long gouges into the
armour around her right shoulder, slicing open the skin over her
shoulder blade, down to the muscle.
Nene screamed as she fired off her thrusters to get away from the
pain. It resulted in her sliding down the hall way, her hardsuit
scrapping across the floor for ten meters before she managed to get
herself up. She had the speed to get away, but she did not have the
space to operate in.
The Flex raised the cannon on its left arm. At the same time the
EX1 arrived at the far end of the hall. Because of the possibility of
injuring Nene with the 105 it was holding its fire. Nene overrode the
safety, standing her ground, hoping that the Flex would shield her
from the blast, hoping the EX1 fired first.
The Flex laser hit low, to her right, missing her completely as it
was tossed forward by the force of the round hitting it. Nene moved
quickly, leaping over its fallen form, running back to the motoslaves
and the safety they represented.
She was halfway there when she was the EX1 aiming its cannon
directly at her, or more likely at what was directly behind her. The
safeties were still off.
Nene's dive spared her being hit by both the lasers that passed
over her and the three 105 rounds her supposed savior had fired.
She saw the EX1 hit by the twin beams, one burning through the
chest, the other destroying the gun it carried. It fell backwards.
Behind her she heard--filtered through the suits sensors--and felt
the explosion.
Pushing herself to her hands and knees Nene looked over her
shoulder at the boomer. It was lying on the ground, unmoving.
Not about to take another chance with the ugly thing she sent the
two motoslaves over the make sure it would not get up then went to
examine the EX1.
The damage was not too bad, it just needed a little time to bypass
components that the laser had destroyed, and for the self-repair
functions to work. The 105 would not fire again, though.
More than willing to give it the time it needed Nene took a seat
on the ground, putting her back up against the motoslave. She was
tired and she hurt. In the future she would leave the fighting up to
Priss if at all possible.

Sylia moved quickly, her Kotetu blade sliding free of its housing
on her left arm.
Her attack on the boomer was as deadly as it was quick. She left
it behind, putting it out of her mind.
She had made it to the third basement, avoiding fights wherever
possible, the ones she could not avoid she ended quickly. Fortunately
she had run into any of the Flex units. They were probably all above,
where the mass force of the assault had come from.
Sylia was picking up conversations on her sensors, close by. There
was also light ahead. She suspected that she had found her targets.
It did not take her long to find them. Ten people, including
Andrews-hakase, standing at the mouth of a tunnel. As she watched a
construction boomer came out, picked up several steel supports and
then went back into the tunnel.
"How long till they finish?" a woman asked.
"Another twenty minutes," someone said, by the sound of his voice
it sounded as if he were guessing.
"And what if Genom is waiting on the other side?" It was the same
woman.
"Then we die," a man turned to face her. He was tall and slim with
sharp features and long brown hair. He stood closest to
Andrews-hakase, a hand on his shoulder. "Or Genom takes you and you
wish you were dead. It's why I gave you so much money."
"You set us up," the woman accused, pulling a pistol from inside
her jacket, but not pointing it at him.
"Then I set myself up as well didn't I?"
"Put the piece away Mary," another man said. "Serves no point to
begin fighting amongst ourselves."
Sylia waited until the woman had put the pistol away, then stepped
out from cover, both her hand cannons held at the ready. "No one
move," she ordered.
Of course one or two did move, she had expected it. She fired
twice, gazing both men, to hit them directly might have killed them.
That seemed to convince everyone that they had best listen to her.
"Send Andrews-hakase over here," she ordered.
The man with the long brown hair looked as if he might refuse for
a moment, then he released his hold on Yoshiro.
Yoshiro had taken two steps towards Sylia when a blast of fire
blew the doors from one of the elevators and two large objects tumbled
out.
A Flex and a 12B. Both were heavily damaged but both looked as if
they were more than willing to continue their fight.
It was a distraction that Douglas used. He grabbed Yoshiro and
dragged him into the tunnel.
Sylia was about to follow when she was almost crushed by the Flex
unit at it staggered back from the 12B.
The 12B opened up with its minigun and laser cannon. The Flex
returned fire. And they were not the only ones firing. Some of the
people she had so recently held at gun point were firing on her.
Her hardsuit armour was good, but she preferred not to be hit.
It took her almost two minutes to cross the short space between her
and the tunnel entrance. She had taken a glancing hit from some heavy
weapon that had damaged her right thruster wing. The suit was not up
to any sort of high speed flight. She hoped that she would not need
it.
Running down the tunnel was a relief, she was clear. She noticed a
few construction boomers milling around, but discounted them as
harmless. When one of them almost cut her in two with an industrial
laser she realized she had made a mistake in her haste.
In a few seconds she had destroyed them all, finishing off the
last with her blade. The wound she had received was not bad, mostly
second degree burns, perhaps a few third. She could worry about it later.
Near the end of the tunnel, waiting for her, was Douglas. He held a
gun to Yoshiro's head.
"Don't come any closer," he warned. "I'll kill him."
"Then I'll give you to Genom," Sylia told him. "Let him go and I'll
forget you. You'll be on your own, but one person might be able to get
out."
Douglas looked at her. He knew who SHE was, but it really did not
matter. No real way to use that knowledge. He did not want to anyway.
It was all her fault in a way, but he could not blame her.
He let the gun drop, pushed Yoshiro away from him then slumped
against the end of the tunnel. Only a few meters remained between him
and escape. It might as well have been a few kilometers.
Sylia caught Yoshiro then led him away, putting the man behind her
from her mind. For whatever reason he had given up.
Douglas watched as Sylia, he knew it was her, took Yoshiro away
from him. He could escape still, he knew that, there were ways out,
places to hide, he could get away. For what? To do it all again. He
could not stand it.
He pushed himself from the rough wall and stumbled forward. As he
passed the remains of the construction boomers he grabbed up one of
the heavy lasers then ran towards the two figures ahead of him. He
powered the laser up.
Sylia's sensors picked up movement behind her, the laser registers
as a white spot of heat behind her, obscuring other things. The
memory of her mistake with the construction boomers was still fresh in
her mind, as was the pain from the burn.
Pushing Yoshiro away she let her blade slide free, spinning,
driving the blade out.
She saw it was the man, clumsily wielding the laser. She tried to
abort her attack, but it was almost as if he was trying to make
contact with the blade and the laser was dangerously close.
To Sylia it was like it was all in slow motion. Her blade slid
into the center of his chest, just below the ribs. It continued
through until it slid from his back. The laser fell from his fingers.
She saw blood run from the corner of his mouth. Bright and red.
Then everything was moving fast again.
She pulled the blade free and he fell forward against her,
spraying her suit with his blood. He managed to pull himself close,
his face near her helmet. Her audio sensors managed to pick up what he
said.
"Hate you," Douglas whispered, feeling himself go light headed as
his blood poured from him. Then he slumped against Sylia, all strength
gone from his limbs.
Sylia looked down at him; at all the blood. She knew he was dead.
Only once before had she killed another person, stained her blade with
blood. Pushing the body away she turned back to Yoshiro. She still had
to get him out.
As the blade retracted Sylia realized she was going to have to
take the blade housing apart to clean out the blood.

The Knight Sabers linked up again in the second basement. Sylia
was surprised at how much damage that the other two had taken. She
wondered if it would have made a difference if Linna had been there or
if she had replaced her. She doubted it.
It was not very hard to get out of the building, it seemed most of
the fighting had ended. The three of them, with their attending
motoslaves, all except for Sylia's, exited from the same hole they had
entered what seemed like days ago. According to the chronometer in the
corner of Sylia's HUD it had only been forty minutes before.
People were approaching, Genom, security and medical personnel.
Sylia saw Takizawa in the crowd as well. She took Yoshiro by the arm
and led him right to the security chief.
"I want clearance for an aircraft to land," Sylia told him as she
handed the Doctor over.
Tadashi just took a radio from his belt and gave the orders.
Less than a minute later the Sky Carrier--coming in over the
sea--dropped into one of the open areas in the parking lot. In another
minute the Knight Sabers were gone, the Sky Carrier heading out to
sea, already lost to radar, soon to be lost to visual spotting.

"Ikou," Leon said to Deri. He had seen the Knight Sabers' aircraft
land and take off. The show was obviously over.
Deri nodded and followed Leon to the APC.
"Learn anything?" Leon asked.
"No. She never gave any answers. You would think that she was the
one trying to find out what was going on in there."
"Yappari," Leon said.

Domino approached the medical truck where Yoshiro was being
examined.
"Choushi wa doo ka?" she asked the doctor looking him over.
"He's got some stuff in his blood, nothing toxic, facial
lacerations, bruising, nothing too bad. You're going to be fine
Andrews-hakase," she told him.
"I'd like to talk to him in private then," Domino told her.
The Doctor would have liked to say no, but this was a Genom
Executive she was facing. She had little choice. "Of course."
"Come with me Andrews-hakase," Domino said, walking from the
medical truck.
Yoshiro sighed and got to his feet. He felt a little dizzy, but
not so bad he had any trouble walking. Domino led him into one of the
CPs. Once inside she closed the door. Katherine Madigan was waiting
inside. He suddenly felt a little sick. If the two of them had teamed
up he might very well be in trouble.
"Andrews-hakase, I want you to tell us everything you know about
Largo, everything you talked about, everything you did. Leave nothing
out," Domino said, her voice soft, but all the more threatening for
it.
"May I have a seat?" he had to swallow twice to moisten his throat
before asking.
"Dozo," Madigan said.
He sat down heavily, more than a little afraid.

"Okay," Nene told Mackie.
Mackie, in his hardsuit, crushed the front end of Nene's scooter.
Nene looked away. Sure it was a cheap scooter, and as Priss had
said only a sewing machine could envy its engine, but it had been hers
and she had had a lot of fun with it. Unfortunately she had a fairly
serious wound on her back and she had to explain it some how. A
scooter crash was as good an excuse as any.
"All right," Mackie said, stepping back from the wreck. "That looks
good."
"Great," Nene said, turning around and walking away. Her back felt
a bit stiff and a little pain was creeping in as the pain killers
began to wear off.
They had stopped off at a hospital on the way back, the chief of
the ER staff there was an acquaintance of Sylia's and was more than
willing to falsify records.
A young intern had taken care of Nene's wound, promising her that
there would be no scarring. That was good news at least.
She walked into the lounge, Priss was lying, sedated into
unconsciousness, on a folding bed Sylia had wheeled into the room.
She was strapped into a corset like splint that was keeping her
ribs immobilized. Nene thought that it looked incredibly
uncomfortable. The white plastic was also pretty ugly.
Sylia had had Priss' arm put into a cast, deciding that she really
needed to give it time to heal properly. That assumed that Priss did
not decide to cut it off after a few days, it would not be the first
time.
She had bruises all over her body and she was covered with
bandages. Looking at her Nene actually felt a little better. The wound
on her back was pretty minor all things considered.
"How are you?" Sylia asked as she came into the room, showing
little evidence of her own wounds.
"Yoi deshoo. Priss-san doo desu ka?"
"Well, I'll keep her out for a day or two, then I'll threaten her
with round the clock nursing care if she doesn't take care of herself.
I think that will keep her behaving for, well a week, maybe two if we
are lucky. By that time she should be well enough to go back to her
old ways."
"Yokatta. How about the suits?"
"We will probably be out of action for a couple of weeks," Sylia
smiled. "It will give everyone a chance to rest up I think."
Nene nodded. "Ano, kaerimasu," she told Sylia.
"I'll get Mackie to call a cab. By the way, I don't envy you
telling your Okaa-san about your accident," Sylia smiled.
"Thanks for reminding me," Nene groaned.
After Sylia had left Nene looked back at Priss. She walked over to
the desk and rifled through the drawers until she found a marker. She
went to Priss' side and made a quick sketch on the cast. Not the one
she sometimes carved into concrete with her lasers, but something
nearly as cute. Then she signed it. Looking at all the space left she
wrote, 'Odaijini Priss-chan.'
She was about to cap the marker when she smiled. She leaned
forward and began making up Priss' face, whiskers and a circle around
one of her eyes. Nodding she capped the marker and put it aside.
"That's for all the times you teased me," Nene said softly as
turned away.

Four days after the incident at the GPCC, that was what the press
was calling it, an incident, things were returning to normal. The ADP
and police investigations were still going on, but they had found out
little.
The story had been knocked from the front pages of papers and from
the lead stories of news programs by other stories. Several
celebrities found themselves in trouble and that was what the public
was interested in.
Some noted that the celebrities were ultimately linked to Genom
and that their scandals were very convenient, but their voices were
lost in the fervor.
It was not all that surprising, Nene thought, standard practice
for Genom.
She pulled her jacket around her tighter, the wind was cool and it
was raining. The wound on her back ached, she suspected the weather
might have something to do with it.
The walk from the monorail eki to Ladys633 was not very long, but
with the rain and the wind Nene was wishing she had taken a taxi.
She hoped she did not get a cold. Her parents would just use it as
another excuse to get mad at her for not taking care of herself. She
still could not believe how mad they had been when she told them about
the accident. She wondered what they would say when she told them that
she was thinking of getting her super bike license. Priss could
probably help her with that.
Sylia was waiting for her in the entry hall. She handed Nene a
towel.
"Arigatou," Nene said as she dried her hair.
"I'm sorry you had to come out in such bad weather."
"It's all right," Nene told her as she stepped out of her shoes
and up into the house.
"Have you found out anything?"
"That's what I am here about," Nene took off her jacket and hung
it on the coat rack.
"Come up to the computer room then," Sylia said.
Nene put on a pair of slippers and followed after Sylia.
Once they were in the computer room Nene opened her purse and took
out a disk.
"I ran a check on that guy's face, the radar image you got
suggested no cosmetic surgery, but I doubled checked with the blood
and DNA type you supplied me with," Nene said, sounding a little
uncomfortable.
"His name was Douglas Meren," Nene pushed the disk into the
computer. "American, 34 years old, no family and CIA," on the screen a
picture of the man appeared, he looked younger than when Sylia had
last saw him.
"Are you suggesting the CIA was involved?"
"I doubt it. He was a deep cover agent, set things up, his
superiors think he has ten separate operations currently underway.
He's drawn a lot of funds, equipment and information."
"A useful person."
"I guess. I wonder what the CIA is going to do when they find out
he is dead?"
"The question is what they are going to do when they find out he
had been compromised. I suggest that you stay out of their computer
systems for the next few months."
"I've already wiped the records, backed up my hard drives and
reformatted them. Nothing to link me to the CIA computers. All that is
left is on that disk."
"Probably more than you needed to do, but a wise precaution."
"So now what?"
"I'm looking into some leads but, that will take some time. For now
we wait."
"Do you know what is happening?"
"I think someone is trying to destroy Genom."
"And we're supposed to stop that?"
"I'm not sure. I still don't know which side we are on."
"Do we have to be on a side?" Nene asked.
"I think it is naave to assume that we can remain neutral in this.
Dangerously naave."
"What happens after we pick a side?"
"Everything changes," Sylia told her.

So ends Fearful Symmetry, (boy Blake could write). After this
comes 'No Armour Against Fate'. Just for your info Anima/Domino
Effect, Flash Powder, Eye of the Storm, Fearful Symmetry, and No
Armour Against Fate are all to be collected under the title No Armour
Against Fate.

The Glories of Our Blood and State
James Shirley

The Glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.
Scepter and crown
Must tumble down
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some me with swords may reap the field
And plant fresh laurels where they kill,
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still.
Early or late
The stoop to fate
And must give up their murmuring breath,
When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death's purple altar now
See where the victor-victim bleeds.
Your heads must come
To the cold tomb;
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

"We're here in the Engineering section of the USS Enterprise.
We have replaced the fine Dilithium crystals they usally use
with folgers crystals. Let's see what happens."
Shawn Hagen <ha...@gol.com> Author of a lot of BGC stuff.