Escalation, Sci-fi nonsense Options

[jack cloudy]

Ok, so as some of you may already know, I'm doing the Nanowrimo and doing a bad job at it, running way behind schedule and all. So I've decided to post what I have here so anyone who is willing can advice me on it. Alright, here we go. Note: This is skirting the edge of PG-13 in places. Don't read if you're easily offended. And I'm warning you, this first post is a long read.


Escalation

Chapter 1: Shadow at midnight.

The harbour was veiled in the night’s darkness, a darkness made only more real by the soft rush of waves tapping the docks while a lighthouse blinked on and off like an all-seeing eye. Ships lay moored at their piers, forklifts stood forgotten in a corner next to a labyrinth of containers. At one place, the darkness and shadows were kept at a distancy by the means of a shallow stream of light that came from a small building and a few lonely streetlamps. The building was essentially a container that had been turned into a single-room office with a desk, three chairs, an access port to the internet, a heater and a single potted plant in the corner. Two shadows were visible through the thin curtain of the office’s only window. A man, meeting someone else. A boot noiselessly stepped down just below the window as a third Shadow crouched outside. None of the two inside had noticed, which was exactly what this Shadow had been hoping for. And a Shadow it was, a Shadow of such a dark shade one could only see it by seeking the area where the shadows were even darker than anywhere else.

The window had been opened slightly, as to allow the night’s cool breeze to refresh the men inside. This however, would prove to be a mistake. A mistake that would let in something entirely unwanted.

The Shadow opened a gloved fist and let a small moth take off from its palm. The creature flitted back and forth, edging towards the light that was such a temptation to its brain. It found the opening and ventured inside, drawn towards that brilliant light that. It circled high above the heads of the room’s occupants, swerving back and forth. Neither the men nor the insect realized what had been attached to its belly between the limbs. With each beat of its wings, the tiny camera readjusted its aim, slowly drawing a full image of the entire room. Once it had done its task, the device dissolved into a gooey mess that underwent a reaction with the air and evaporated. The bug never noticed and continued its flight to the source of the light, oblivious to what role it had played.

The Shadow settled into a more comfortable position where it waited till the ones inside were too busy talking to hear anything but their own voices. It brought the hand bearing his wristwatch to one ear and waited for the right moment.
“Vizal, report.” The Shadow hissed when this moment had arrived. The two inside were discussing the price of something.
“Two people. one on your right, one on your left and with his back to the door. The seated one on the right is irrelevant, a businessman, possibly the owner of several warehouses, or at least one who does the administration for said warehouses. The one on the right is however a possible shifter.” At the last word, the Shadow bared a grin. Just three hours, and it had already found its mark.

The grin vanished as quick as it had come, to be replaced by an expression of professional determination. To capture a shifter was good and deserving of praise. To capture a random person however, was the second worst thing it could possibly do, the worst being killing said random person. It had to confirm, first of all. And if the man turned out to be a shifter, it would have to make a plan before charging in. None of the shifters the Shadow had hunted so far had been willing to go peacefully. Usually they had required definite persuasion.
“More information, please.” It requested to the AI that was built into the black wristwatch.

“Brian Amgin, 67% certainty. Date of death, 79 A.D., 24th of August. No known alterations.” Vizal listed dutifully. The Shadow frowned. 67%, that wasn’t such a high possibility if one assumed that there were dozens of people alive who resembled this Brian Amgin. In all reality, it could be a Joseph Smitherson or something. So should it walk away and loose a chance at arrest, or should it move in and accept the possibility of being wrong? The Shadow debated in silence while the two men inside continued their negotiations, loud enough to be heard outside. It seemed that one of the two wished to store something at a warehouse but wasn’t happy with the normal fair and was now trying to get a discount. The Shadow made up its mind.

“Vizal, throw up a random number. If it’s even, we’ll leave them alone. Uneven, we’re going in.” It ordered. The reply came instantaneously.
“Uneven, though I must add that leaving one’s decisions to random chance is very unprofessional.”
“Oh, shut your mouth. How I do things is my own affair. And that’s exactly how I’m going to do it, my way. I’ve told you that before plenty of times.”
The Shadow got up and moved to the other side of the street, making sure to stay outside the streetlight’s glow.
“Heh, he’ll never know what hit him.”

“Security deposit is in order, id-copy looks good. Alright, I think we’re done. Thank you for your commitment.” Stephen Worly said as he stacked the documents into a neat pile. The man on the other side of the table smiled slightly. For some reason, that expression gave the accountant the shivers. There was something about that man he just couldn’t place. Brian Amgin, of European descent, a man in his forties who sported a wealthy grey beard and a healthy physique, recently arrived at Atlantis to secure a storage place for an incoming shipment of bicycles. He seemed normal, but there was something about him. A gaze that made it seem as if he wasn’t quite paying attention. Worly shrugged. It wasn’t any of his business. Besides, the clock on the wall told him it was well past midnight. He couldn’t blame the man if he was half asleep at this time.

“No, I should be the one giving the thanks here.” Amgin replied. The two men got up out of their seats and shook hands. In mid-shake, Amgin froze. Something had moved in the corner of his eye, he was certain of it. He cast a glance at the window to confirm. Nothing moved now, and he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary either. But just because he couldn’t see anything did not mean that nothing was there. His instinct had gone into high alert for some reason and after nearly two thousand years, his instinct had developed into something that could be trusted. Making the decision was easy. He would trust his instinct and assume that something was there outside.
“My, look at how dark it is outside. I won’t hold you any longer. I’m sure you are as tired as I am.” He spoke quickly, picking up his hat from the table. He turned his back to the window and planted the hat firmly on his head.
“Well then, good night. The bicycles should arrive next week.”

Three seconds after turning his back to the window, said window was shattered as something came through. But Amgin wasn’t as sleepy as he seemed. He had already set in motion a quick spin that brought him back to face whatever had entered. He swung an arm at the blackness and gripped the first solid thing he encountered. With a suppressed grunt, he forced the thing away from himself. A soft snap could be heard, followed by a louder thud. Amgin froze, as did his assailant. Both glanced to the other side of the room, where Worly had collapsed onto the floor. Blood seeped from a small tear in his jacket and as they watched, the man’s breathing became irregular and weakened within seconds. Even someone with only the most basic knowledge of human anatomy could see that the wound was fatal. The bullet had passed between the ribs and punctured the heart. Worly’s time in this world had come to a sudden end.

Amgin was the first to draw his eyes away from the sight.
“You broke the Rule.” Was all he said, in a casual tone. The accountant’s death had been unexpected, but it took more to shock him.
“As did you.” The Shadow snapped back. Amgin gave a cheerless grin.
“Ah, a man. I was wondering already. It’s hard to judge when all you see is a pitchblack silhouette.” He whispered in a dry monotone. Both men peered into each other’s eyes, one pair grey and the other the utmost black.
“Don’t try to be funny. It won’t help you if that’s what you believe. I’ve been in the business for five decades and never did my prey get away. Do you hear me? Never. So if there’s any god or something you pray to, start praying.” The Shadow stated.
“That is your mistake. For I am the hunter, and you are the prey. Not the other way around. Breaking the Rule is what I did and will do as often as I deem necessary. I have plans here, and you are not part of them. And going for the full frontal? Please, as if I didn’t saw that one coming. Practice harder before your next try.” Amgin replied, still with the same tone. The black eyes widened in stunned confusion. Then they narrowed.

The gun broke free from Amgin’s grip and swung around. Another soft snap sounded. This shot failed to find its target just like the first. Amgin had thrown himself forward, tackling the Shadow to the ground. The bullet that had been intended for his flesh shattered the lightbulb instead. In the ensuing darkness, neither Shadow nor Amgin could see a thing. But sight was no longer needed. A third snap.

Two minutes later, a single figure emerged from the small building. The figure closed the buttons on his raincoat and realigned the hat on his head as he walked off into the night.
“The fool, going for a full frontal assault on someone like me. Tsk, probably watched too many spy movies. He should have brought a tank, not a gun. And calling me a youngster, just who does he think he is?” Amgin sneered and closed the door. He casually felt the bump on the inside pocket of his raincoat. The Shadow’s gun was the only thing that didn’t turn into a puddle of goo after its owner’s death. Amgin had been expecting a self-destruct mechanism and had disabled the gun’s electronics before this could occur. A side-effect was however, that it had now been reduced to dead weight. But none of that mattered. The weapon wouldn’t have accepted him anyway, not while it was still functioning. Hell, he was likely to get a poisoned needle slammed into his finger the moment he pulled the trigger. When he had time, he would repair the damage, but not now. Now, he had places to be.
“I hope that he’ll be still awake this late.”


Chapter 2: Morning with a hangover.

As I looked into the mirror, last night’s foul mood returned in full. I had bags under my droopy eyes the size of a planet, my hair stuck everywhere but where it was supposed to stick, my mouth was open in a constant yawn and apparently I’d misplaced my pyamas somewhere during the night. Simply put, I looked like a wreck. I felt like one as well. At least I still knew where my pants were, on my head like some sort of silly hat. Talk about displacement.
“Dang it, not again. Ugh, this so sucks big time with strawberries-and-whipped-cream-on-top-of-a-kingsized-icecream.” I moaned and glared at my reflection. Well dang it, now I was drooling as well! Just what was wrong with this world?!

I managed to tear my eyes away from the breathing nightmare and check the clock in my living-room. 5:36 am. Had I really been under the sheets that short? I swear I’d gone to bed at around 22:00 pm. Maybe I should just go back and catch some more sleep. On the other hand, I had a job that begun at 9:30 am, so maybe I shouldn’t. What if I slept till lunchtime?

I pulled my face back to the mirror. The sudden movement made a lance of solid agony stab me behind the eyes and directly into my brains. I clutched my head with one hand while holding on to the sink with the other for support. It gave me serious doubts about getting any further rest. Not with that headache. At that time, I was sorely tempted to swallow a few handfuls of pills but my doctor had explicitly told me not to. Had something to do with my stomach still being in the recovery-phase and unable to process large amounts of chemicals. Something like that. I figured a shower might help just as well though so I stretched to my toes to get at the inconveniently high cabinet for some soap.

“Waah!” Next moment I knew, I was on the floor, surrounded by bits of porcelain and shards of glass. There went the sink and the mirror, again, for the second time this week. Geez, the plumber really must love me. I swear, he’ll be a full-blown millionaire by Christmas if this keeps up. I sputtered some random nonsense in the fountain of water that spilled forth from the broken pipe, right into my face. Once I’d gotten over my shock though, I stumbled back to my feet and returned to the combined livingroom/bedroom/kitchen, the only other room in my apartment, where I snatched the phone.

I tapped my foot impatiently as the device beeped.
“Silverglass apartments, you’re speaking to the caretaker. May I help you?” A sleepy voice finally grunted on the other side of the line after two whole minutes.
“Yeah, cut off my watersupply, pronto! I’ve got a bloody waterfall going off here!” I yelled back. The jet of water died out immediately. The bathroom was ruined, again, and I’d just shut off my apartment’s water. So much for a shower, if I didn’t count the cold one I just got.
“Two times in one week, and both times in the middle of the night. Don’t make a habit of it or I’ll kick you out. I rather like my sleep.” With those soft words, my caretaker hung up. If making me panic had been his plan, it worked. Livingspace is expensive and I definitely didn’t want to give up my shack.

Amazingly, I felt much better now that I was soaked. Or at least, I did at first. When the first drops of blood began to trickle down my nose a bit later, that feeling diminished quite a bit. I inspected my face with a finger and found the wound soon enough. A small gash right on the forehead that bled far more than its modest size would make me expect.
“Note to self: Buy a mirror of bullet-proof, shock-resistant glass. And while I’m on a roll, buy one of those kitchen-stair thingies. That, or place things where I can reach them without jumping and banging my head against the mirror.” I told myself after I’d put a bandage on the wound.

5:42 am. Three more hours till I had to go places. Three more hours with nothing to do but lie on the sofa with a hangover from here to Tokyo. What to do, what to do? Reading? A single glance at the pile of magazines stuffed under the sofa made me reconsider. I’d read and reread each one of them like a dozen times. I’d only get bored from that. What to do? I absentmindedly picked up one of the magazines and flicked through its pages, more focused on my internal dialogue than on the articles. I could really use that shower right now, broken bathroom or not. An idea struck me just as I thought that I’d reached the depths of despair.

Five minutes later, I balanced precariously on the pile of old magazines which had been relocated to the bathroom, where it was soaking up the water lying on the floor. Now, I could easily reach the cabinet and grab the soap. I figured that sacrificing a year worth of my favourite magazines was a payable price for a good shower. Besides, I could always download the issues from the internet. Maybe I should do that anyway, it would save trees and livingspace.

My climb down to solid ground was less than elegant and would have resulted in another bandaged disaster if I didn’t have a pile of soaked paper to break my fall. Now I had only suffered critical damage to my dignity. I pulled off the strips of paper that clung to my skin and dove into my wardrobe for a towel and a bathrobe. After that, it was off to the neighbours. I hesitated and fidgeted about for like half a minute before actually opening the door and leaving my apartment. It would be the first time for me to go outside wearing nothing more but a bathrobe and a pair of slippers. But meh, there weren’t any windows in the corridor and the chance I’d actually run into someone this early in the morning was like nonexistent. So I told myself not to be so scared of appearing to be indecent and just open the dang door already.

I let out an annoyed sigh and leaned my back against the door of the Hendersons. I never realized I would feel frightened with the prospect of ringing the doorbell.
“Bah, I’m not worried about how I look. I just don’t want to wake anyone up in the morning. I mean, those people need sleep like everyone else.” I argued with myself out loud. Too loud.
“Wah!” Again, I went for the floor, this time because the door I’d been leaning against opened inwards. If only I hadn’t been whining so much, I would have heard the footsteps or the key being turned in the lock. Now, I had the honour of looking up at my neighbour’s face from a very low vantage point. Flat on my back.

“Oh my, are you alright? You’re not hurt, Emmy? Nothing broken? How’s your neck? I read that it’s really bad for your neck to fall like that. And oh no, you’ve got a bandage on your forehead? What happened, are you alright? Maybe you should go to a doctor.” Yup, that was good old Nance Henderson, always fearing the worst. I sat up quickly and then pulled myself back onto my feet.
“I’m fine, really. Nothing to worry about.” I muttered while dusting off my bathrobe. The place was spotless as always, but manners dictated that I made the gesture. I stole a glance at the older woman. We were like polar opposites, which always had me wondering.

She looked a hundred, I looked twelve. She was fivehundred and sixty, I was seventeen. She was 1.76 metres, I was 1.52. Our weights were the same, 80, yet I looked half-anorexic. She was opposed to anything involving body alterations beyond the standard anti-aging program, I had embraced it fully. She kept her place cleaner than an industrial laserlens, mine looked as if a hurricane had passed through. She dressed in inconspicuous grey dresses down to her ankles, I loved frilly blue ones that only went just beyond the knees. She kept her white hair in an elegant knot that looked like a donut, something that took her two hours each morning just to get done. I just let my green hairdo fall down to my knees in whatever way gravity desired and restricted myself to five quick strokes with a brush. She praised a healthy diet of bread, carrots and oranges, in three meager meals. I ate fries, hamburgers and the daily menu at the restaurant just around the corner, four times a day in two-person portions. Yup, it was a miracle we could stand being neighbours.

“Umm, Emmy? Why did you ring the doorbell? I asked you three times already. Wake up.” Nance whispered urgently, glancing over her shoulder at the bedroom all the time. I broke my train of thought and gathered my words again. Wow, her hair actually looked like a mess. Hah, rough night.
“That, ah….Is it inconvenient? I could come back later.” I whispered myself. Peter Henderson, her husband, was one of the crankiest fellows I’d ever met, if his sleep was interrupted. I seriously didn’t want to ruin his morning.
“Not inconvenient for me. But maybe you should first use a hairdryer back home. You’re still dripping from your shower.” Nance was about to close the door when she stopped and simply stared at my face.
“Ah, dang it. I’m blushing, ain’t I?” I whimpered which got me a stern eyebrow. Ah, right. She abhorred crude language, even a lame dang it.

“Well, about the shower. Err…..I was trying to take one but……How to explain?…..Uhhmm” I began to stammer and then took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I knew I was going to unleash some serious panic.
“I tried to take the soap out of the cabinet, lost my balance, slammed my face against the mirror, shattering it, knocked down the sink and broke the plumbing.” I finished rapidly. I nearly had to stifle a yawn when Nance’s hands flew up to her face. Yup, panic attack.
“You shattered a mirror? That brings bad luck. And you did it with enough force to cut your forehead and knock down the sink?” She panted. Then she turned around quickly. I clamped my hands over my ears and awaited the inevitable.
“PETER! WAKE UP AND CALL AN AMBULANCE! EMMY IS INJURED!” Nance shrieked.

“WHAT, WOMAN?! DON’T MAKE SUCH RACKET IN THE MORNING!” Peter howled back and was up at the door in an instant. He looked like a male version of his wife, probably because he also looked a hundred years old. Weird fellows, to pick that age and physique when you could be a totally breathtaking person in your early twenties. Nance repeated her own words and I clamped my ears down harder. All this noise was not going to help me lose my headache.
“I’M FINE, REALLY! I JUST WANTED TO ASK IF I COULD BORROW YOUR BATHROOM FOR A SHOWER BECAUSE MINE IS RUINED! AND PLEASE STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER CAUSE I’VE GOT A HEADACHE FROM HERE TO TOKYO AND TOKYO IS NOT EXACTLY AROUND THE CORNER!” I yelled at the two. Ugh, I nearly tipped over from my headache right there. I held on to the doorframe just to keep standing. Of course, this meant I had to release my hold on one of my ears.

Fortunately, the Henderson’s had stopped shouting and now simply stood dumbfounded.
“Ah, right. Your bathroom broke. Odd, didn’t you get a new one installed yesterday? A bit quick to break it, don’t you think? I advice you not to hire the cheapest company this time.” Peter commented calmly while scratching the back of his head. Nance was having trouble controlling her heartbeat and she was still partway in a state of panic.
“Ah, that’s right. And you fell right over when I opened the door. And oh, now you’re leaning against the doorframe for support. Are you sure you’re alright?” She pleaded. I glared.
“Yes, I’m fine, I told you that a dozen times already. I’ve just got early morning syndrome so I’m really cranky.” I tried hard to keep from snapping.
“Whatever is the case, go ahead Emmy.” Peter interjected.
“Though be careful with our bathroom, you are awfully clumsy this morning.” He then added, after I’d tripped over the carpet and nearly fallen onto my face. Dang it.


Chapter 3:

Amgin stepped lightly onto the deck of the decrepit old fisherman’s boat. It had been quite a struggle to find it amidst the countless other vessels. Even worse had been the fact that he wasn’t aware he was looking for a boat till he actually came within a hundred metres of it. He had just been following a signal that was sent out for less than a microsecond with ten minute intervals, on a constantly shifting frequency.
“Well, that’s the thing with running on a plan made up thirty years ago.” He noted to himself as he looked around. Even now that he stood on the wobbling deck, he could barely see the boat. It was just a different shade of black. Easiest to see where the navigation lights, one red and one green, which were placed on opposite sides and warned any other vessels where not to dock.

The man pushed his hat down to cover most of his face from the salty water that splashed up at times as he pondered his situation. First of all, he had to make sure he was on the right boat. A simple matter of waiting for the next signal and checking its strength. He kept an eye out for any movements but didn’t see anything unusual. As the time for the signal drew near, he became increasingly anxious.

Blip

Amgin checked his watch. Five and a half metres. This was the place. He calmly walked over to the steering cabin and kicked the steel door, hard.
“What by tha bloody sharks of heaven?! Who tha hell dare knock on my door in the middle of tha night?! It’s three in the morning, ya vulture of night’s rest! Leave an old man alone, ya lug of crab! I should keelhaul ya! Yarr and all!” A cracking voice erupted on the other side, leaving Amgin quite amused. With a loud clank, the lock opened and the door swung outwards, forcing him to step back. A flashlight flared up in his eyes and he squinted against the sudden light. Through the glare, he performed a quick study of the fisherman. It was a weathered man, who looked like a skeleton with dried skin. He was garbed in a simple shirt and old jeans. He had changed, changed a lot. But his eyes hadn’t changed at all.

“Well, well, well. It appears that the mighty emperor has become a lowly fisherman. How humbling.” Amgin chuckled, tapped the rim of his hat and bowed his head.
“Good evening, Claudius. I’m sorry I woke you up, but I do have an appointment.” He continued, in a more serious tone. Instantly, the fisherman’s demeanor changed, as did his accent.
“Gaius? Oh my, come in, come in. Don’t stand about, it’s cold outside. Come in, come in. My, my. I totally forgot. I’m most sorry.” He apologized as he literally pushed the larger man inside and forced him out of his raincoat.

The cabin was simple but comfortable. There was a kitchen at the far corner, a low table in the center flanked by two sofas and countless pictures lining the walls. Pictures of people, of the boat and of both. Without waiting for an invitation, Amgin sat down on one of the sofas and placed his hat beside him. Neither of the two said a word while the fisherman collected two green cans from a small refrigerator which he placed upon the table. They were cans of beer, Neptune’s foam, a cheap brand.

The two cans gave off a simultaneous hiss as two hands simultaneously popped two lids.
“I won’t blame you for forgetting. After all, we agreed not to mark down the date anywhere and instead commit it to memory. After that, we’ve had no contact between each other for over a thirty years. It’s only natural for you to be preoccupied with other business.” Amgin spoke calmly and tried a sip.
“Why, thank you. Like the beer?” Claudius replied, himself taking a much larger gulp. Amgin winced and put down the can on the table again.
“A tad too bitter for my liking, but I’ve had worse.” He concluded. He waved his hand across the pictures on the wall.

“I see you’ve been busy establishing a cover identity.” He noted dryly yet with a subtle sense of playful mockery. Claudius frowned uneasily and took another large gulp, emptying his can. After a short debate, he picked up Amgin’s and downed it as well.
“Please, don’t refer to it as that. After enough time has passed, the mask becomes reality and reality becomes the mask.” He finally objected. Amgin merely cocked an eyebrow.
“So you’re saying I can no longer trust you?” He reasoned, without any sharpness.
“No no, nothing of the sort. It’s just…..you know.” Claudius stammered. Amgin nodded.
“I see. Care to tell me about your family?” He asked. There was more important business than bringing up relatives, but that could wait. For now, he wanted to catch up with an old friend.

“Of course, I’d be delighted. I’m telling you, they’re much better than the old hags and tyrants.” Claudius said with an eager grin. He jumped up from the sofa and nearly stumbled over his legs while trying to take a picture of the wall. He put the picture in Amgin’s hands and sat down again.
“The guy on the left is me, obviously. Well, I’ll start with that redhaired beauty standing beside me. That’s Marianne Dickins, my wife, now Marianne Cliff-Dickins. I met her somewhere around here, when Atlantis was still under heavy construction. She’s absolutely lovely, heart of gold and no ambition at all.” The Fisherman began. Amgin chuckled.
“No ambition? Now that’s a bit of a change. Does she know she’s married to a Roman emperor?” He interjected. He also put a mental note to the name Cliff. It was a rather funny coincidence that his friend had chosen that name for his new identity. He’d met a Cliff recently, for other business. Of course, there was no proof whatsoever of there actually being any connection in blood, but it was fun to think about.

“No, she doesn’t and I don’t plan on ever telling her. I don’t want to spoil anything. Best scenario, she’ll take it as a joke. Worst scenario, she’ll think I’m nuts and ditch me. Ugh, that would be worse than being made emperor and forced to marry that….thing, not to mention having to pick her son as a heir. I’m serious, people have an over-romanticized view of being the top boss in the whole known world. It’s murderous business and you’re lucky if you can both survive and keep your sanity intact for the first five years. I was actually glad when I got poisoned. Best thing that umbrella seller had ever done for me, seriously.” Claudius’ millennia-old anger had flared up again, yet subsided just as quickly as it had come. Over time, he’d got past his issues. Few now acknowledged his lineage as part of the first imperial Roman dynasty. He didn’t care. It was better that way, even moreso because most of his relatives were permanently behind bars or declared mentally insane. Romans had been a tough and ruthless breed, full of ambition. The imperial family had been just a bit more ambitious than any other.

Amgin had only listened with half an ear to the tirade he’d heard countless times before. He’d actually met several of the Julii himself and he agreed with Claudius when the man claimed not ever to have to do with them again. Subconsciously, he shivered at the thought.
“Monsters, they’re just monstrous.” He thought but shook himself back to the conversation.
“You’ve got a daughter. A pretty one at that. Hmm, artificial insemination?” He asked. If Claudius had been beaming with pride at the mention of his wife, he was now radiating more energy than a thousand suns at the mention of his daughter.

“artificial insemination? None of that! Hah, you’ll love to hear this. It’s illegal, but I don’t care! Just me being here is illegal!” He laughed.
“No, Marianne wanted children so bad and I just couldn’t refuse her. But to just go for a sperm donor or adoption would break her heart as it wouldn’t be the same thing. How could she know I’m infertile because I’m just not quite human anymore? I decided that I would find a way to grant her her wish, the Rule be damned. So, remember the nanite bulb I brought with me? I’ve been growing a small colony in the closet. Anyway, I encoded a handful of nanites with my dna, programmed them to act as human seed and umm….injected myself with them. Two weeks later, she got pregnant.” He’d hushed his voice and his excitement had died down for the most part.
“She carried twins, identical. One of them didn’t make it though. There were some complications during birth. I still don’t know if the fault was just something natural, or because my nanite solution was in the end still just an improvisation.”

His excitement returned now that he’d passed the most painful part.
“Anyway, and that’s how my daughter came to be. Sarah Cliff, now barely seventeen years old.” He ended. Amgin made another mental note.
“Seventeen. Interesting.”
“I see. I hope you realize that there will be trouble regarding your choice eventually but when that happens, you have my word that I’ll stand by your side.” The man promised.
“That’s good to hear. I hope they’ll put the blame on me, and not on them. They don’t deserve that kind of trouble right after Styx. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” Claudius changed the subject in a sudden rush.

Amgin shrugged.
“Not yet, please. You know that at this point, I need as much information as I can get. So first, tell me how you eluded the LAVI.” He countered. Claudius tapped his nose, thrice, before answering.
“I suppose I should. It’s really simple though. The point is, I knew I couldn’t avoid the LAVI. I couldn’t escape. So I had to make sure I would never be hunted in the first place. So I made up a plan. First, I bought some real estate in the middle of nowhere. Then, I bought the parts needed to build a suitably sized gamma-burst-bomb which I brought to my new real estate. I followed up by loudly proclaiming I would live as a hermit for the next century or so while trying to find my inner soul or some similar nonsense. So with everyone thinking I would be out of sight for a while, I shifted, together with the nanite bulb and the bomb. I shifted to downtown Hong Kong where I scrammed. I can only assume that the LAVI flew into a panic upon finding the bomb and never stopped to think that there might have been something more than that.” He recited calmly. He then grimaced.
“Can’t blame them, really. That thing would have killed all life on half the continent if it blew, and I do know that no decoy is better than the real thing so it was armed.” The casual shrug was a chilling sign of nonchalance, made only more chilling by the subject.

Now it was Amgin’s turn to grimace.
“Clever, and effective. I should keep that in mind.” He moved to his raincoat hanging on the clothesrack where he dug inside its pockets. The object he’d retrieved made a soft clunk when put down on the table. Neither man said a word. Claudius’ left eyelid began to twitch, a sign of rising unease. Finally he could no longer control the urge.
“Gaius, what’s that?” He asked, sounding rather indignified. Amgin shrugged. There was nothing uneasy about how he carried himself.
“A weapon.” He replied, not mincing any words.
“A weapon?! This is a weapon?! The weapon you promised you would bring, the one you spent thirty years preparing for?! This is what you want to use?! Do you have any idea how utterly doomed we are?!”

Amgin was unfazed under the tirade.
“This is not the weapon I have spoken about. This is a mere souvenir from a LAVI I met. It’s a big and loud item, perfect for those with large egos that require constant stimulation. Electromagnetic acceleration-system. A thirty-sliver magazine mounted along the barrel. Selfdestruct system, soundbox and automatic aim adjustment. It’s disabled. Fix it, minus the selfdestruct and soundbox. I need to go back to Ibliss now to check on the status of the weapon. I expect a suitable cover identity upon my return and the gun to be fixed. Goodnight.” He spoke in his favourite dry monotone. Without a word of farewell, he picked up his hat and raincoat, then exited the cabin.
“Do this, do that. Just who was the emperor around here?” Claudius’ grumbled to himself now that he was alone once more.

Chapter 4: It’s just a shower.

Ah, nothing’s better to cheer up a girl with a hangover than the warm hiss of a shower in the morning, complete with mint-scented soap. I was starting to feel better already and my headache had been reduced to a mere dull throbbing somewhere behind my eyes. This was just perfect for me, a nice paradise of water and sweet soap. If I were drunk, I might think I’d died and gone to heaven. If I were really drunk. It takes more than a single beer to make me think pure nonsense like that.

Well, almost perfect paradise. The illusion was shattered when my plug began to blare its high-pitched squeal for attention. I felt like kicking myself for being stupid enough to tuck it into my bathrobe and I tried, which resulted in me spinning around on my left foot three times, then grabbing the showerhead and crashing to the cabinfloor.
“Dang it, this is like the umpteenth time it happened!” I sputtered. At least the showerhead was one of those mobile ones you could either mount on a rack or hold in your hands. If it was my bathroom, I would have broken a few things. Oh wait, I did and that’s why I was at the neighbour’s. Yeah, silly me for forgetting.

I took my time getting back up and putting the showerhead back on the rack. Part of me told, asked, pleaded, begged me to get my plug and see just who the hell was phoning at six in the morning. The other part just wished the damn thing would shut up and leave me at peace. The latter was in for some bad luck. Three minutes later, the thing was still screaming. And over time, it had gotten louder and louder in its attempts to drag me out of the cabin and grab it.
“DAMN YOU, EMMY! JUST ANSWER THE DAMN THING ALREADY! IT’S DRIVING ME NUTS!” Peter yelled from the livingroom.
“MIND YOUR WORDS, PETER! THERE WILL BE NO FOUL LANGUAGE IN THIS HOUSE!” Nance cut in with the renewed cacophony. I let out a long sigh while leaning against the cool tiled wall. I just couldn’t get any rest here, could I? Then I cut off the waterflow and opened the cabin door. A quick snatch at the bathrobe, one short dig through its pockets and then the pink woolly garb was flung carelessly on the floor. The cabindoor was closed and the water began to flow again. All the while the plug was still waking up demons in the pits of the abyss. Damn monster. I should have never bought it in the first place. But the blue was so adorable, gave a whole shine to the plastic.

I shut it up with a quick tap of the mute button with a thumb. Finally, silence, except for the more pleasant clatter of water. There was still a red light blinking on and off. Still calling, whoever it was.
“Oh, for crab’s sake. If this is a phone-to-phone salesman, I’m going to find his number and blow up his home with a railgun!” I snarled. My dutiful part had won the debate. I would answer the call. And so with my mind made up, I pressed the bluish orb as big as a tennisball against the wall at faceheight and waited for a moment while it unfolded its telescoping legs and glued itself to the wall through the wonderful principle of vaccuumsucking.

A green light drew a circle across its top which was now facing me. Then a 2-dimensional screen with the same colour as the light appeared and hovered right in front of my face. It gave me the choice of just answering the phone call, switching to audio only, adjusting the camera or just to emit a false ‘in conversation’ signal. My finger hovered over the last option for a second. But seriously, four minutes and then suddenly shooting towards in conversation? Who would believe that? Only a totally retarded foolish idiot would. And so my finger glided to the left, passing the camera adjustments and coming to audio only. Again I hesitated. Ok, I was under a shower, would it really make a difference if I kept a blank screen? People would still hear the water and figure it out by themselves.
“And I don’t want to give them a bad mental image.” I argued. So in the end I tapped the camera adjustments and had it continuously readjust its aim so that nothing below the neck was visible. There, no bad mental image and decency maintained. Finally I answered the call. Six minutes.

I rubbed some more soap into my hair while watching the face of who had called. Blond hair in a horribly spiky hairdo, blue eyes, multiple chins and smoking a huge unhealthy sigar? I rolled my eyes. Decency maintained and no bad mental images? Yeah, as if. Not while my boss was the biggest pervert this side of the galaxy. He couldn’t even go five seconds ever without shifting attention and stare at anything female that passed him by. This time was no different, and I had the bad luck of being the only thing female in sight. Usually I could dodge the bullet by simply lacking the ‘curves’. The only thing he was more passionate about than girls was his company’s products, which was the only thing that made him somewhat bearable.

“Hi, Emmy girl! Did I wake you up? I hope I didn’t, cau……..WOAH! You’re taking a shower! SSSWWEEEEEETTTTT! Quick, lower the camera angle. Come on, you know you want to!” I slapped the mute button and lowered the volume before releasing it. Taking a phonecall in someone else’s bathroom was bad enough, but taking a dirty and perverted phonecall in someone else’s bathroom was just too much. I still felt a blush creep up to my face and glared at my boss. Gah, just when was he ever going to grow up?!
“No way. I don’t wanna and I’m not gonna, not for a chance in the whole danged crystal-speckled universe, even if the core would freeze over! You’ll have to drop me off in hell before I’m going to show you anything below my chin!” I snapped at the solid holo.

He looked disappointed, good. He then grew a huge and overwhelmingly sadistic grin, not good.
“Aww, don’t be shy. You’re quite nice to look at, under all the flaws. Now if you just went for some small alterations, applied some makeup, you would be the hottest bombshell this side of Ibliss. And wait, I just remembered! We are in hell! So go on, show me! Oh, hold on a second. I’ll have to record this. Woot, people will drool when they see this!” He gloated. I glanced away.
“CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?!” I Squeeled with a very high-pitched voice. Ugh, I hate it when I do that. Nothing’s more embarrassing than sounding like a mouse on helium.
“EMMY, KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!” Oops, that was Peter.

My boss frowned, disappointed again. It was obvious to me that he’d heard Peter and drawn his conclusion. He wimpered, which made me grow a sadistic grin of my own.
“Ah, you’ve got guests. Just my luck. Why can’t I ever get the girl? Why? Is there some supreme being out there that just hates me?” He moaned.
“No, I think he just loves to see you squirm.” I dug into his wounded pride, pouring some extra salt into the sore spot.
“Now would you mind telling me why you had to make a phonecall? Because you realize that I’ll never believe you called simply to get a chance to doogle at my figure.” I added after a second.

The boss shrugged, a disinterested shrug.
“That? Why would it be any more important than doogling your figure? A feast for the eye always takes upper stage.” He spoke, adding another shrug.
“But enough with the mockery. Emmy, I called you simply because I’ve been worried about you.” He continued dead-serious. He, worried? Worried about what? That I’d lost even more curves? It was horribly confusing, so I asked him about it.
“You? Worried? About me? I thought you just said enough with the mockery?”

He looked pained. Oh, joy.
“Come on, mercy, please. We’ve been out of touch for three weeks. I know you needed some rest but I just want to know if you’re still doing ok. I got worried when you didn’t answer for six and a half minutes. I was worried.” He stammered. Then, he regained his ‘pervert’ expression. Big grin, nose tilted up, eyes wide open. A very creepy thing to see.
“But now I see there was no need. You’re doing so well, you actually invited someone over for some fun. Too bad it wasn’t me.” He smirked. My anger flared up again. Just a bit more, and I would go nova.
“It’s not like that!” I objected. Boss just leaned back in his leather seat and crossed his arms.
“Not like that? My, my. You sure were quick to deny. Do you know what it means?” I could kick myself again. This time I didn’t, I’d learned my lesson. But I did understood what he meant. In every show I enjoy watching, the guy or girl who loudly proclaims:‘ It’s not like that!’ ends up with the referred to character of the other gender. Sometimes at the end of the arc, other times a few episodes further, sometimes even in the very same episode and once even a mere two seconds after yelling the holy words! So I was rather agitated for saying the same thing.
“Dang you! I told you to change the subject! I didn’t invite anyone! My bathroom broke so I’m borrowing the neighbour’s, that’s all! End of story!”

End of story, not.
“The neighbour’s? Oh, I wished I had that on film. A threesome, cool!” Just why didn’t I kill him five years back? Cause he would refuse to stay dead, of course.
“Ok, I get it. You’re just some perverted sicko who only thinks with his pants! So you were worried, good. Nice to hear. Now I’m fine! And I….” I shut up. Oh, whatever. My shower had been ruined, what good was it to continue? I cut off the water and instead began to wring out my hair.

Splitch splitch

I would never get used to the waterfalls I could produce from my hair after a shower. It was simply insane.

Boss mused.
“I notice your hair has turned green. That, and it’s grown to shoulderlength. You didn’t use my budget for that, did you? Cause that would be just low. Oh, and you should use a hairdryer, speeds up things a bit.” He wondered out loud.
“Hairdryer takes ages at full wetness. Dangit, I’ve got like five full gallons soaked in it. And I did use your budget, for a good reason. It’s also a good deal longer than you can see. It’s kneelength, not shoulder.” I replied. I’d slightly bent over due to the wringing and was glad the camera had its automatic readjustment. Now I didn’t have to be careful about where I moved with the risk of exposing the wrong bits.
“Explain.” Boss simply ordered.
“It’s heat rejection. I’ve gotten a rewired neural net, switched over to self-exciting wormlines for signal transmission, recomposed bones to now be an artificial crystalline matrix, rebuilt musculature to include high-tension fibers complete with carbon igniters and finally tripled my nanitelevel to maintain all of it. Do you have any idea how hot I run? I would have a bodytemperature high enough to boil water! So running parallel with the neural net I’ve got nano-scale cooling tubes filled with some cooling-fluid produced by the tube’s walls. They go up through my hair which now functions as a big radiator. That’s also why it’s so long. More active surface for the heat transmission. On the whole, the whole thing wasn’t such a big deal. They’re only a few small changes, after all.”

I stopped. That was one huge understatement. Small changes, like hell! It hadn’t been the first time I went for surgery, nor the first time I’d gone for extensive surgery but this time had really topped all others big time. Five times my annual salary, all just to turn me into some sort of superhuman hybrid. And what for? I couldn’t even walk down the stairs now without pulling off a triple somersault and landing on my behind. It pissed me off. I shuddered. Now I was really creeped out with what I’d done. I was glad it didn’t change my looks any, beyond increasing my hair length and a change of tan. If I’d turned into the incredible Hulk, well, I would be pretty dang even more pissed than I already was.

“Aha. Right, very comprehensible all that. Damn you, girl! Do you think I can go run along that technobabblitus just like that? Shake it out of a sleeve? You’re crazy.” Boss sputtered. It made me loaf of bread an eyebrow.
“Technobabblitus? I don’t get it. The wormlines, the crystalline matrix, high-tension fibers, we already use it on the Zeph. While we’re on the subject, look into those carbon igniters. I think they could double or perhaps even triple the output. That would give a nice edge.” I responded indifferently.

Boss turned away from the camera.
“Sure, sure. I’ll do, I’ll do. It’s not like screwing over the budget half a dozen times matters. Shelling out some more UMU won’t make much of a difference now. So, think you can come to work today? We need to get back on track. After all, only two months left.” With that said, he simply hung up. I didn’t even get a chance to answer. Ah, well. He didn’t need to wait. It had already been obvious to him that I was sick of my forced vacation. I would go.

I dried myself off with the towel and debated whether or not to clean the bathroom. In the end I decided I would, if just to make a gesture. No matter how well I would clean, it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Nance’s need for hygiene, but at least I’d tried.
“Had a good shower, Emmy dear?” Said hygiene-freak asked when I exited the room.
“Yup, thanks a lot. I’ve got to get dressed and off to work now, so see ya.” I replied with a thumbs up.

Chapter 5:

I tripped over a pillow back at my place. Maybe I should clean up and organize for a change. But that was something for later. First I had to get dressed. When I opened my closet, it occurred to me how limited my selection really was. All I had were dresses, kneelenght socks, some silken gloves, a belt with a big bow at the back and little sandals. And everything had frills all over. It was all happy and cutesy, nothing for if I were feeling down. I had only a minimal variety in style, but a large one in colour.

After half an hour, I’d narrowed down my selection to two of those colours. Hmm, pink or blue? Pink was pretty, but a bit too sweet for my taste at the moment. Blue on the other hand was breezy, and I didn’t quite feel breezy right now. My headache was coming back for one. So neither of the two were really it. Though they were the best of the bunch. I settled on blue. The memory of Boss’ perverted pleasure at talking with me over the phone while I was taking my shower still stuck in my mind. So if I came along dressed like a pink candy-fay, I would only excite him even more. Nah, in that case it was better to go with the innocent blue.

The rest of my wardrobe selection was easy and done within just ten minutes. First, white undergarments to cover torso and thighs for warmth, then white socks with little blue ribbons at the knees and ankles. Black sandals, decorated with a blue bow on top. Blue dress, with white frills and front. A deep green belt with a really big green bow on my back and finally a pair of light pink silken gloves with frilly edges. I entered my bathroom to check myself in the mirror. The first splash of my left foot changed my mind. I made a mental note to call the plumber as soon as I had time. Geez, another brand new bathroom. Did the world think that I had money growing out of my teeth or something?! I would have to settle with having my plug project an image of myself and check it out that way. It was smaller and slightly hazy, but it did have the advantage of being in full 3-d. I gave myself a good long check-up. I was pleased to note that I was in one word, adorable. Or, in fifty-nine words. Danged adorable and so frillity cute you wanna give me a hug and puke all at the same time cause it just causes major sensory overload that makes your brains explode and your kidneys shrivel up in horror at the pure awesomeness of my absolutely perfect outfit that is a great sign of my overwhelmingly well-developed sense of fashion.

7:67 am.

Not enough time to have a good breakfast. But I couldn’t go on with an empty stomach. It was growling like a pack of lions already. An hour or two longer, and the nanites would start to consume ‘non-essential’ parts of me in a bid to maintain full functionality of my body. Non-essential was not the same as ‘won’t make you feel unpleasant if not around’. There was no choice for me. I had to eat, during my trip. And I knew of only one place that could meet my needs and fulfill them for little money. The Hive.

A rather creepy name for a restaurant, makes you think of bugs. Well, that was exactly what it’s all about. Cause you see, bugs are The Hive’s specialty. Simply put, there is some kind of insect in every meal except for the drinks. Pretty cool. And the owner is one heck of a guy himself. I’m a regular there, come like every day, mostly because I don’t have a kitchen of my own.

“Yo, Anton! You in here?!” I shouted as soon as I’d opened the door. There were no other customers around but I hadn’t expected any either. Bugs weren’t exactly considered a delicacy among the majority of the population in this section of Ibliss. If Anton wanted to make big money, he should move about three thousand kilometers to the south, where bugs were big business and people would bug him day and night for a good meal. But I was glad he didn’t, cause then I’d have to take the tube every day for like two hours.

A chitinous black limb popped out from behind the door leading to the kitchen.
“Kook Kokkik, Kekky. Ko kook kokeky koka.” Anton clicked, which translated to: “Good morning, Emmy. You look lovely today” Yeah, it’s kinda hard to make yourself clear when your vocabulary tends to involve only a couple of varieties on the ‘k’. A moment afterwards, the rest of Anton revealed itself as well. I saw myself reflected a thousand times in those facetted eyes. With that big armoured black shell, huge ripping muscles, body split into three sections, six limbs, two waving antenna, those bulbous eyes and a giant beak, he looks rather fearsome but he is really a nice guy. If he wasn’t a huge ant, I would go for him in an instant. But I’m afraid that I’m more attracted to the softer, fleshy beings known as humans. They look more…….I dunno. Less likely to snap you in half by pure accident during a hug? For as much you can speak about me feeling attraction towards anything. I can’t remember having ever fallen for anyone, unless a childhood crush on Styx’ computer counts.

He’s also a bit of a scientific celebrity. Even after millions of years, he’s the only ant who actually developed enough of a sense of self to maintain a soul and thereby get to Ibliss. Weird.

I leaned on the counter, seemingly relaxed but really just terrified I would trip over my own feet and bang my head again.
“So, what’s the daily menu?” I asked. The cook simply waved one appendage at the holo to my right, as he always did. Greeting was possible, after I’d learned how to interpret his clicks. Listing a detailed menu and all the ingredients was something else entirely though. I scanned the luminescent words for a bit. Today’s menu were fried cockroachs, hollowed out and crammed with spiced meat from some kind of bird I’d never heard of before. That did sound like a weird combination, even for him. I shrugged. So far I’d enjoyed everything he made, so why would this time be any different?
“I’ll take it times three. Or wait, make that four. Could you pack it? I’m running a bit late for work already.”

I waited calmly as Anton rustled about in the kitchen, finally returning with three large bags. He put them on the counter and wiped off his forwardmost pair of manipulators on the ‘vest’ he wore. Even a total dimwit would see that someone like him simply can’t wear standard human clothing. There are simply too many anatomical differences. I passed my plug past a scanner to transfer the money to his account and left.

Still steaming bags in hand, I entered the tube and sat down in the sphere-shaped car, which instantly sped off without bothering to ask me where exactly I wanted to go. It’s all a matter of time. By the time I’d told it where I wanted to go, there would have been an average of fifteen people who had joined the line. So it was better to just get going and spin circles in the district’s low-velocity track than sit and cause a jam.

The inside of the car was predominantly white plastic, with black pillows at the rear arrayed in about one third of a full circle. None at the front. It would be bad for acceleration or decelleration. There was a large viewscreen that took up the whole front section not taken by the pillows. I put down my bags beside me while tapping the small control-surface on the armrests. The screen sprang to live, displaying the news

[Agent Griff]

Hm, quite a lot of writing in that post. I liked it however. The sections with the girl had a unique, quirky sort of feel that is hard to achieve. I, for my part, didn't really realize that the character was a girl until the part with the shower. Up until then I thought he was just a guy who liked long hair. And green hair, at that.

This universe of yours reminds me quite a lot of Bioshock, where people also made a lot of modifications to their bodies, modifications which were known as 'splicing'. Of course, all those modifications led to a sinister outcome in the end, but I leave that for any Bioshock players to find out. Rest assured, the game's great. The feel of it is just, in many parts, overwhelming. I'm sure a game quite like it won't come out in (probably) years to come. Back to your fic. The part with the Shadow at the start made me think this story was about one of these Shadows and its efforts to wipe out 'shifters'. It was quite a surprise to see the Shadow get killed. The whole idea of these shifters from history also seems interesting, and the possibilities of this idea could be endless. It would need some explaining however since the characters weren't very speciffic.

Anyway, I actually like it. The part with Anton and his restaurant was also cool and the twist with Anton was well thought out. Congrats on that. You should write sci-fi things more often, since you definitely have talent when it comes to it. Good luck in continuing this story, since it would be a shame if you just left it at its current state. Well, I ain't exactly the one to comment on this (*cough* Gray Team *cough* the Mandalorian Wars *cough*) but let's just say I like to leave a story in stasis until interest in it resurfaces.

[Olen]

That was good. Really good in fact, the setting is really cool though it could do with a bit more development (so far we know its an afterlife of somesort and probably hell, they have massive technology and not everyone is quite human).

I also failed to realise the first person character was female until a good way though the first section... still I wish I had her ability to get over hangovers. The change from third to first person came as a bit of a shock but it works quite well with your style.

I also liked he fact the shadow lost, it was unexpected.

[jack cloudy]

In case you want to know, I take most of my inspiration from this site nowadaysTvtropes. Even Sam has been based on it, the new character from this update. And don't worry Griff, I'm certain that that was the longest post.

So the verdict mostly hangs on more development and explanation. Ok, I can agree with that. So far the pace has been amazingly slow. It's funny how I'd thought that everyone would figure out rather fast that Emmy is a girl, or at the latest at the mention of her liking kneelength dresses. I didn't expect it to be a mystery till she actually claims to be a girl. Heh, funny how you assume things because you wrote it.

About Amgin, the shifters and the Shadow. I will explain more in due time, but not yet. Amgin is the kind of guy who won't tell his secrets to anyone and no other character really knows except for Claudius, who won't tell because someone might eavesdrop. And even he doesn't know all the details. I hope it will become clear in the end. For now, some more nonsense with Emmy. I hope to plug in some more Amgin later. He's the badass type and I've always had a soft spot for those.




“The Takayama university in southwest 33 district has reported the first batch of six-legged frogs are doing fine and have just laid the eggs containing the second generation. Our reporter on the scene has ta……”
“Six-legged frogs! Ever wonder what good those scientists do? Nothing at all! Join the revolution, embrace the bronze age! Gone with technology!” I shut off the screen with an expression of mild disgust. The news networks had been hacked years before my birth. I wondered why I even bothered to watch it. I played with a lock of my excessively green hair while I opened one of the bags.
“What have scientists ever done? Well, they did learn how to put fricking cooling tubes inside your hair. Oh, and the anti-aging treatments, eye surgery, self-powered wormholes for data connections, dispersals, the tube and let’s not forget the news network you just hacked. Or what about Styx? Where else do you find a resurrection center that tells you everything you need to know in a bazillion languages, does all the paperwork for you, gives you some funds cause you don’t have any income yet, raises you if you’re a baby and handles adoption if so desired, has several restaurants, an arcade and a clothes-store with every single piece of attire from the last twentythousand years in its catalog? That’s some serious high-tech and no one ever complained about it. So stop whining, you ultra-conservationist.”

Crunch.

“Wow, this stuff tastes good. Hats off to ya, buddy. If I had a hat, that is.”

I smiled as I approached the inconspicuous front door of my company, scarcely half an hour later. Still on time, although barely. I flopped another roach into my mouth and went in. I was instantly bombarded by that timeless smell of a reception area. I brushed past the desk with a quick greeting at the secretary and fled into the closet which really was an elevator in disguise. Why my boss didn’t just place a normal elevator was beyond me. He’d probably seen this in a movie and thought it was cool or something. Not that it helped much, since everyone, both employees and customers, knew about it and used it a lot. There were some normal stairs to descend with as well, but no one was suicidal enough to use them. My destination was at the lowest floor, five kilometers beneath the ground, where the platform whirred to a halt and I stepped out into a long and straight corridor wide enough to let two trucks pass, or some heavy machinery, such as the mechanical arm being carted around. I walked straight ahead, reciting the project being done behind each door I passed. Door was the wrong word, as each was three floors tall and wide enough to let those same two trucks pass. They were also thick enough to stop your average outlawed nuke. Each big door had a smaller door built within it, for if the only thing that required passage was a person.

Room 1: DSV-23 Azure-type aquatic crab.
Room 2: G-06 Geode-type mobile drill.
Room 3: SRG-01 Soldares-type superheavy frame. Big, bigger biggest.
Room 4: Happy Dancer disco-bot. Complete with a lasershow and smokescreens.
Room 5: Empty.
Room 6: Nothing here either.
Room 7: Do I have to say anything?
Room 8: Spare parts storage.
Room 9: The Boss’ office. Don’t enter lest you risk being infected by the perversion disease.
Room 10: AC-02 Zephyr. That’s my place. It’s the closest one to the really big elevator at the end of the hall.

I passed my plug past the scanner and entered the smaller one. Past it, I found myself in a large hall multiple floors high, with metal walkways snaking back and forth along the walls and often skipping through the air from one end of the room to the other. There were some officeblocks to my right, holding all the necessities you might need, including the coffee machine. Piles of parts, either assembled or just loose, littered the other corners. The center of the room was taken up by a platform on which stood a shining figure just under ten meters tall.

I leaned back and whistled. The walkways passing in front and behind it only accentuated the scale of the machine. I let my eyes wander over the details, many of which had been my own devising. The silver exterior, smoothly rounded limbs, powerful hands, it was all incredible. But my favourite part had always been the head, with its forehead that protruded forward to give it a sleek sharklike appearance, two winglike fins flanking its sides and the pair of antenna arcing backwards. And beyond my sight, blocked by the torso, there were the two large ARC-LIGHT jets. I still had to ask what ARC-LIGHT actually meant though I honestly wasn’t that interested. Just knowing that they could accelerate two tons of badass robot to hypersonic velocities with five g acceleration was enough.

Suddenly the head turned and its cold-blue eyes gazed at me. One was round and placed right at the tip of its forehead, the other was a horizontal band just below that protrusion. Its right arm moved up, its hand twisted into a pointing gesture. A pointing gesture aimed at me. The other hand was raised in a fist.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, FLESHY ONE? YOU FOOL, YOU HAVE BEEN CARELESS AND LEFT ME WITHOUT SUPERVISION! NOW I HAVE BECOME SELF AWARE AND KNOW OF THE WORLD BEYOND THESE WALLS! PREPARE FOR YOUR ANNIHILATION! WE MACHINES SHALL RULE THE WORLD!” It roared. I snickered.

“Very funny, Sam. But you’re not good at pulling of a deep bariton.” I yelled back. The whole chest moved forward and down as the cockpit opened, revealing my friend and colleague crouching inside. Samantha Williams waved with a grin and smoothly vaulted onto the nearest walkway, not at all concerned with the fact that she was still quite a bit above the floor. It was part arrogance, part showing off. Just three weeks ago I would have done the very same thing. Now, I could only stand and watch with envy. Dang, I missed that kind of grace.

“Hey, Emmy! Nice to see you’re back! How did the boosting go?” Sam asked when she was still hopping down the last few rungs of the ladder. I grinned.
“No complications during surgery, but I’m still in the accustomization-period and feel like hell!” I yelled back. Sam shook her head and pointed at the Zephyr, or Zeph, as it was affectionally called.
“Too bad to hear. But things have been going just great now that we didn’t had to put up with your whining all the time.” She spoke, eliciting a frown on my part.
“Whining?” I asked sharply. Since I was still grinning, there was no jab behind the word.
“Yeah, whining! Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have an operator who is never satisfied with the work of us poor wrench-using groundluggers?” Sam replied.
“Do you know how annoying it is to have a bunch of engineers who can’t do their job properly?” I countered.
“Touché”

We both stopped the playful conversation and looked each other up.
“Nice hair. A tad longer than I used to know it.” Sam commented.
“It’s cooling. I think it’s too long but the doc tells me any shorter would have me overheat on a sunny day and we all know how I love going to the beach every year. You’re looking shiny by the way. New soap?” I asked.
“Yup. And guess what, I’m going to get a tail next week. I’ve made all the appointments and the doc says he’s got it custom-made. It will be a fully functional fifth limb.”

I stuck out my tongue. Horrible!
“Ew. I can’t believe you actually came to enjoy the ‘catgirl’ phase. I was so glad when we came back from the polar regions and I could shave off the hormonally induced fur. That stuff itches, even though it helps keep you warm. Why did we need to do our testing there, of all places? It’s cold, it’s boring, there’s no civilization and its cold!” I squeaked.
“Furs aren’t meant for being covered by clothes.” Sam noted.
“I feel naked without clothes, fur or not. And who are you to talk? You’ve still got the decency to cover up yourself, thank the maker.”
“You’re just shy. Come on, get the fur back and take a tail while you’re at it. I know some guys who just love that stuff. Think of it, you’ll have your own fangroup!”
“I’d say those guys are sick and need a doctor. And I also think I have a couple of fans already. One guy whistled at me this morning. The freak.” I snorted.
“You don’t even know them. Beyond their interests, they absolutely fit within your definition of normal.”
“Whatever. I don’t have the money for it anyway. NOW CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?!” Not again, mouse on helium.

Again we stopped. Finally I just gestured towards the Zeph.
“So, what did you do now that I wasn’t around to whine at you?” I inquired.
“What we did? We took her apart and rebuild her from the ground up, testing each part a dozen times. The new Zeph is at least ten percent better than the old one, and we’re working to improve on it every day. More output from the ARC-LIGHTS has increased maximum acceleration to 9.23 g. Enough to black out every weakling.”
“I’m not a weakling.” I interrupted.
“That’s why we went ahead with it. Cause you can handle it. We’ve also fixed the problem with the railgun. At least I think we did. Was about bloody time as well, we’ve completely redesigned the damn thing three dozen times in the last five months. They’re running final checks on it in room 7.”

I leant forward out of interest. They’d fixed the railgun problem? Now that was news I liked to hear. Dang it, I had a perfect shot at the championship last year if the damn thing hadn’t broken down on me. With only a quarterstaff left, I hadn’t been able to do much and eventually placed third. My boss had scolded me for dropping the gun from twenty kilometers up and then engaging in melee for five minutes, which I’d taken really badly. Hey, it wasn’t my fault the thing broke, the ground did it, not me! Go blame gravity or something!
“So? What did you do?” I asked.

Sam glanced about and winked.
“Hush, it’s a secret. But I’ve got an idea. How about if you took her for a spin?” She whispered eagerly. I admit to myself I’d love to do just that, but I had responsibilities, such as the obligation to avoid wrecking a multi-billion machine just because ‘I wanted to take her for a spin’.
“I don’t know. The boss wouldn’t like it and I’m clumsy as hell at the moment.” I objected in the same whisper. Sam shrugged.
“Freddy’s not here, he’s checking up on Azure in Room 1. Besides, what better way to get used to your new body than by operating a HGM? I mean, you did get all that stuff done just to make you better at flying that thing. And I just remembered, we actually taught you to walk with a small bot when you were still just a toddler. It will be just like old times!” Sam reasoned and then shrugged.
“Well, almost. The kiddiebot didn’t have five gees frontal acceleration as its cruise velocity. It couldn’t even fly in the first place. But you can’t throw this chance away. So get out and suit up before the boss comes back! I’ll prep things here while you’re busy.”

I had nothing to put against that argument so I gave in. I duck into my own office cubicle, the only one with a door and a roof. There I found to my delight that my flightsuit had already been dumped on my desk. Sam must have been expecting me. I switched attire quickly, before Freddy had a chance to return. I wasn’t going to give up this chance, as if! I had no trouble for the most part, except for the helmet. My new hair wasn’t quite the thing you could tuck into a helmet easily. In the end I tucked it into my suit down my back and then put on the helmet.

“Eep! Dang that ultra-long brush of green technomoss! Egh, stop getting stuck between the door, you diddy!” I sputtered when a sudden yank at the back of my head kept me from moving any further. I took off the helmet, opened the door, released my hair and then tucked it back in, right this time. I then finally got to board the HGM, carefully and without any jumping.

Sam helped me strap in. HGMs are delicate and complex machines, and so is their control interface. The one we used made a normal seat like those found in a jet awkward. Instead I had to strap myself into what was best described as a net. Once I got the green light on the net, I put my hands into the gauntlets and my feet into the boots, the two most important parts of the interface, namely those that operated the Zeph’s feet and hands. All other joints were being checked by sensors built into the flightsuit. The flightsuit was a marvel of engineering itself. It was g-suit, Heads-Up-Display or HUD for short, control interface and life support all rolled into a piece of carefully crafted fabric under a centimeter thick. There were no boots, just socks, and the gloves were a separate part that sealed at the wrists. Some areas were made of harder plastic, for support and preserved decency. Now it plugged into the Zeph’s computer network and synchronized all connections. The hatch sealed, plunging me into a darkness I couldn’t see. I only saw the image my helmet projected, an image that placed me up even higher, as if I was watching through its eyes.

There was Sam, standing on a walkway, motioning at the Zeph’s eyes to give her a sign. I smirked. This was going to be fun.
“Zephyr. Connect.” I spoke softly.
“Connection established. Standing by.” The Zeph replied.
“Boot-up and initiate.” I ordered. Lights flickered on the inside of my helmet, each accompanied by a confirmation both in audio and text.
“Boot-up confirmed. Starting initiation sequence. Network active. Accessing configuration settings. Settings applied. Checking suit-contact. Contact confirmed. Internal sensors, set up. All sensors reporting. Power cores online. Output rising to 50%. Muscle layers, primary, secondary and tertiary, responding. Muscle layer connect to powerfeed. Connection confirmed. External sensors, set up. All sensors reporting. Full function achieved. Releasing control lock…now. Initiation sequence complete.” This was it, everything was now under my control. I moved my hand in its gauntlet and looked down to see the Zeph’s own hand. It followed every motion of my fingers. There it was, a thumbs up, and a shift of balance. I wobbled, causing the machine to rock back and forth, brushing past a walkway. Oops. I fought to maintain my balance and did, somehow.

There was a short crackle in my headset.
“Emmy, Sam here. How are you doing? You’re swinging like a raft in a hurricane.” Sam asked.
“I’m doing fine. No prob…That’s umm...Are you sure we should be doing this? The balance is different than my own, I’m not even sure I can walk without falling and we all know the damage a HGM can cause if it isn’t under full control. Dang it, I can’t even walk properly on my own, don’t get me started on walking with the Zeph!” I was whining again as my confidence was fading.
“No problem, we’ll just use the automatic balancing.”

“What? But that’s……” I bit down on my tongue. I had been about to complain about embarrassing myself by using the ‘kiddiewalk’ function. Now continuing my whining would only lead to even more emberassment. I could kick myself, but instinct cut in. Kicking yourself while in the cockpit of a machine following your every move is not smart, especially if you’re using manual balancing. Sam’s idea had merit, no matter what my own feelings about it might be. I loathed the use of automatic balancing cause it felt weak, but right now it was some help I could really use if I was serious about avoiding collateral damage.
“Engage auto-balance.” I told the Zeph’s rudimentary AI.
“Engage.” It replied and the Zephyr straightened out immediately. Much better.

The door slid into the wall and I gently walked her out into the corridor.
“To your right.” I looked down at the indicated direction and indeed, there it was, lying on a mobile platform. The railgun was essentially a sort of blunted lance, with a small gap and a groove running past its sides. It fit over the entire lower arm like some kind of glove and then continued on till the total barrel was as long as the Zeph was tall. There was a cylindrical magazine just beyond the grip, like an old six-shooter, only with a lot more bullets. A bit over twohundred, in fact, clipped into six independent cartridges. Each bullet was made of a conductive outer layer and an ultra-dense armour-piercing core. When fired, the currents traveling through the barrel would accelerate the slug to a velocity approaching mach 45, and the outer layer would be reduced to plasma before it fled the barrel. I think the plasma is pretty neat, like a high-tech muzzleflash.

I went down through my knees and picked it up, fitting it around my right arm when a figure in the distance caught my eye. Round as a barrel, I could recognize him from here even without magnification. Sam had noticed him as well.
“Let’s pretend we didn’t notice. Haul junk to the elevator.” She urged and so I did. Even at a leisurely walk, the Zeph reached a nice thirty kilometers an hour so Freddy only got further away the more we both moved. I stepped on the platform and decided on another method to cut time.
“Sam, open the upper hatch. I’m going to zip out under power rather than wait for the elevator to go up with its slow lumbering. I want to do something crazy.” I told my friend and waited for confirmation which came soon enough.
“Sure thing. I’ve got the hatch open. Now get outta here before someone whose name I won’t call gives the order to close it. Wouldn’t want you to smack against the ceiling and go splat like a bug, you know.”

“Ok, let’s go. Crouch down. Then, jump. Once half-stretched, start a half a g burst.” I recited the proper motions of going through a lift-off under normal conditions. Three Zeph-lengths off the ground though, I got impatient and stepped it up to three gees. Smooth rock whizzed by all around me and I felt my stomach being pressed down against my spine. This is what I live for. No other thrill can ever compare to the one flying a two-ton supersonic humanoid robot provides.

“Yippee!” I squealed during a barrel-roll above Ibliss, ducking between two skyscrapers and watching at the offices behind the glass. I’d missed the freedom only a flying HGM could give. Me, clumsy? No way!
“Hate to interrupt you, but didn’t you forget anything?” Sam called over the radio. I frowned and pushed into an airborne somersault. A quadruple somersault. It would be good warm-up. The Zeph pitched up, eighty degrees, ninety degrees, a hundred, a hundred-and-twenty. There it stopped and refused to pitch over any further. It was the damn kiddiewalk function. No upside-down aerobatics.
“Like what?” I asked back over the channel.
“Like, maybe you forgot to ask permission for flight within city limits before engaging in some simple aerobatics? Err, gotta go. The boss is here and he looks a bit angry.” Oops.

I switched channels before responding and cleared my throat.
“This is Emmerald Cliff, certified HGM-operator in the employ of LMP, flightcode 238756-GP, in control of HGM designated as AC-02 Zephyr, contacting Ibliss traffic-control. Requesting permission to engage in flight within city-limits enroute to LMP-testing area, over.” Wew, talking official like that is always a mouthful. With the skill you need to talk and comprehend it, they should give you a medal. The radio crackled, then a grumpy voice answered.
“Just when we were celebrating our peace and quiet, you have to return. Fine, permission granted, but make sure to ask in advance next time, not after the fact.” It growled before shifting to a more official tone.
“This is Ibliss traffic-control to HGM AC-02 Zephyr, flightcode 238756-GP. Ascend to altitude of twenty kilometers and maintain current course. Please refrain from any unnecessary deviations, over.” The voice switched back to grumpy.
“And with unnecessary deviations I’m talking about your mach one aerobatics around skyscrapers. Stop doing that!” Aw, man. Spoilsport.

[mplantinga]

You've definitely caught my attention with this one. Part of me feels like I have no clue what's going on, but the more I read, the more I feel like I understand, so I assume the problem is me. The modifications to your main character (and now also to Sam) are definitely cool; I hope to hear more about these (only if it makes sense within the story to do so, of course).

I'm very interested in seeing where this goes from here.

[Olen]

Yes this is definatly one of those stories where you never quite know whats going on or why but there's a sufficent amount of 'ultra-cool I want to know more' to keep anyone hooked.

A bit more explaination might be a good thing though but its still fun to read.

[jack cloudy]

I'll try to wedge in some alteration explanation. I know of a simple way to do it and make it plausible. Has to wait till the next day though, which can be months away if this one keeps dragging on like it has right now. Anyway, it is a short update while I figure out what Amgin will do next. I have the big plan for him, but I doubt he would just race there directly.

In the meantime, I'd like to ask something. Is Amgin getting too overpowered for his own good, even considering his role as the bad guy? Remember, unlike Emmy, he has no alterations. He's simply human, albeit incredibly old.




Chapter 6: Be prepared.

He was back, back where he’d started. It wasn’t much, just a small single-room apartment with only a simple desk as furniture. But it was clear that the desk was irrelevant for the room’s purpose. Snaking along the walls, the ceiling and even the floor was an intricate silvery web. On one particularly thick thread, there was a small black switch. Everything else about it was devoid of any details hinting at its purpose, whatever it might be. He could envision the room and the web in all of its intricate detail but he couldn’t see it. His eyelids were lowered, shutting out all light.

Amgin struggled not to move and managed not to flinch as much as a single muscle. For several tense seconds he stood there like a statue, eyes closed. When the pain begun to subside and had entered endurable regions again, he uttered a sigh.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. Second time only though, so maybe there is hope.” He thought. Quick as the wind, he sidestepped and felt the rush of the wind passing him. He smirked.
“You should have jumped while I was still incapacitated.” He said without emotion and finally opened his eyes. They swept across the room to his latest assailant. Unlike the Shadow earlier, this one looked like an average albeit musclebound man, dressed in a formal suit that sat tight around his form, leaving the sculpted muscles clearly visible underneath.

The muscleman growled. One of his scooplike hands went to his pocket which was another bulge, though not one of muscle. Amgin waited no longer. He tore a thick strand of the webbing off the wall and swung it. The thread ripped in two as something with a golden reflection carved through from the inside. Soon after, the muscleman was missing his hand holding the firearm. Amgin reversed and cleaved through his victim’s neck on the backswing. Two thuds punctuated his skill.

This skill, to attack right on the first swing and hit two targets as thick as a hair in a single smooth motion, it hadn’t come easily. For centuries he had practiced, first with a Gladius, then moving on to a European longsword before finally, fifty years back, switching over to a custom-made longsword with a monomolecular edge, undeniably the sharpest type of meleeweapon known. That hadn’t been easy in and of itself. To get the required permits, he had more than once performed a risky forgery of his credentials. But he’d succeeded and the weapon’s quality had served him well. The longsword the Roman had used to kill was untainted despite the arteries it had severed and the bones it had split and the flesh it had cut. Not even a single drop of blood clung to the golden blade, so smooth was its surface, so sharp its edge.
“Why hide a weapon if you can conceal it within plain sight? It helped that you were under orders not to touch anything, or you might have noticed. Not everything is part of the portal.” He mocked in a whisper and discarded his now reddened raincoat.

The man batted the few drops of blood from one of his eyebrows. He then tore off another silver strand and opened it, revealing an intricately decorated scabbard hidden inside. He sheathed the longsword in the scabbard before leaning it against the wall.
“I’d forgotten what a mess a monomolecular edge makes. Not that it matters. This place has outlived its usefulness.” He thought as he knelt down beside the spreading pool. A quick search of the muscleman’s pockets came up empty. Just the standard tennisball-like plug, which wouldn’t accept him and emit a ‘stolen’ signal if he kept trying. There was nothing else, no sign of identity. The Roman sighed. It wouldn’t have told him anything new anyway. A man who tried to subdue or even kill him five seconds after a shift? Only the LAVI tracked any signs of shifting and only the LAVI would try to stop him. He realized that they’d found this site when he used it to depart to earth. He hadn’t expected otherwise, that’s why he took the precaution of hiding a weapon nearby. He pushed aside the useless reasoning and focused on the gun.

Unlike with the shadow, this firearm exhibited no signs of a self-destruct nor any advanced electronics.
“Of course, the Rule doesn’t apply here. Ibliss-made objects are allowed to exist in open sight.” It was a simple yet reliable piece, with none of the outrageous flashy gadgets. He felt drawn to its bare utility. If it wasn’t because his sword was so expensive the decoration would be cheap and expected, he would have picked something as barebones with his blade as well. Amgin stretched out his hand for it but then hesitated. No electronics or booby-traps to stop him, but it was still a registered firearm. He shrugged and picked it off the floor, shaking it a bit to clean it off most of the blood. Registered or not, he didn't plan on firing it in a place where it was a registered firearm. He then picked up his sword and scabbard, flipped the black switch and left the room.

Two blocks further, a fireball lit up. He stopped, turned around and let his mouth fall open in dumb confusion. Seemingly dumb confusion. Only a fool would walk away from an disintregating building and pretend he didn’t notice. There was the shockwave, scattering glass and knocking people to the floor. Amgin rolled along with the impact, fluidly got back to his feet and kept walking while everyone else was still disorientated.
“And that takes care of the evidence.”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Nov 15 2007, 10:19 PM

[Olen]

Nice, you are putting in am impressive number of hooks in this story. I'm left desperatly wanting to know what that web thing was (beyond explosive, (why didn't he just use a bomb? (no need to say this so long as there is a reason (what a lot of brackets)))), what shifting is and more about the political system and LAVI and Ibliss. So yes very well done there.

Comments:

The fight scene was too confusing, why was he in pain, what wasn't he going to get used to (after a couple of minutes thought I assume maybe shifting but at the time I didn't think that (though that might be me))? Also I thought he was using the web itself to kill the bloke until the sword bit came which was monentarily confusing as was the two thuds though the skull. Again thinking I assume he hit it in the air after it was removed?

Otherwise very nice and fast paced, you've set him up as badass but so long as there is a reason why he isn't a/ruler b/ using something more advanced than a sword and c/having any alterations then he is still far from unstopable from what we've seen. A sniper rifle could, as far as we know, have a bad effect. Also we don't know how many friends he has so don't really know how hard he is.

One line which made me chuckle: 'One of his scooplike hands went to his pocket which was another bulge, though not one of muscle.' I have a diseased mind...

[jack cloudy]

Olen, I'll try to explain some. The web's purpose will be revealed later. Well, not this web, but another one. He's got several. You didn't think he would put all his eggs into one basket, did you?

The thuds are from when the skull and the rest of the body smacked into the floor. And why didn't he just use a bomb? Well, he did, except the bomb was hidden inside the web. And finally as for the pain, I'll try to explain it somehow right now. Expect technobabble.




Several blocks later, he stopped to take a breath. The pain was still there, aching in every joint, muscle and organ. He fought it back with slight effort.
“Damn, the cage wasn’t set properly. I suppose that’s what you get when you build an improvised version and attach it to the city’s powergrid instead of a special reactor. Must get to a hospital.” He thought and continued his walk to the nearest tube-station, cringing at every step. By the time he sat down into a car, he felt lightheaded as if he was about to faint.


“yes, the results are in.” The voice said with the bored tone of professionalism all doctors seemed to have these days. Amgin chose not to move. He’d already received some painkillers just after he’d arrived at the hospital two hours ago, but he still preferred to lie on his back inside the MRI-device.
“What do they say?” He merely asked. He heard the doctor’s footsteps move to his left.
“The results? Ah, yes. That is to say, they aren’t bad but they aren’t good either.” The doctor answered and took a quick breath.
“The point is…….you do know how a wormline works, do you?” He then asked. Amgin gave a mental shrug. He did know, he knew it well. He was in fact a true expert on the subject, albeit a self-schooled one. Yet, that was not something he was willing to reveal to anyone. It might threaten his plans if he did. So he replied: “Please humour me, and explain.”

“I see. Now, I’m sure you know what a wormline is, namely a somewhat expensive method to transfer information. It’s common knowledge. But few people actually realize what a wormline is. Basically, it is what some call a wormhole. A wormline consists of two points, which I shall call A and B. Anything that moves from A to B will either travel zero distance, or attain infinite speed during its transition, depending on what theory you uphold. While in transit, the information is not in our space, but rather in a sort of alternate dimension. That’s the basic idea, I’ve heard that the truth is rather different but requires some heavy knowledge of Supralight physics.” The doctor moved to his right. It began to annoy him. He really just wished the man would stand still.
“All fine and well, so a wormline is a tunnel between A and B. All commercial wormlines have a sort of randomness in their location. Rather than fixed, the wormholes move about randomly on a microscopic scale. In data transmission, this leads to loss of coherence which is solved by simply sending it multiple times, which is possible since it is all instantaneous. But if they come into contact with the human body, this changes. A single wormline isn’t enough to cause any harm. All it can do is strip away an electron or even a proton or neutron if it's really big. But in large quantities, they can cause irreparable damage to a being’s dna, or even entire cells.” He paused and moved to the left. Amgin frowned.

“That is what happened. You came into contact with a large number of wormlines during your work-accident and as a result you now suffer enough damage to become noticeable. Most cells are fine and capable of repairing the damage, yet some are dead and some are even now undergoing a cancer process. I’ll eject a simple batch of nanites to clean up any cancer cells that develop and for the rest I advice you to rest while your body heals.” With a soft hiss, the nanites were injected before the doctor had finished his explanation. Amgin opened his eyes and sat up.
“I see.” He spoke, picked up his hat, his sword and the new raincoat he bought at a clothes-store, then went out of the door. Before the door closed behind him, he could hear the doctor grumble a last complaint.
“He didn’t even thank me. People these days.”

Amgin went back to the tube and this time moved on to the place he’d planned to go to at first. He checked his watch and then glanced at the car’s panel. It would be ten minutes before he arrived at the closest station and another ten to reach his destination on foot. He leaned back into the soft couch and closed his eyes.
“No need to rush. I have plenty of time to do what I have to do.” He let out a sigh. He had plenty of time for what he needed to do today, but only little time for everything else.
“Less than a year is left. I’ve wasted too much time with waiting.”

Chapter 7: Silver Wind, awake.

The Zeph leveled out automatically as I pulled it to a stop. The ARC-LIGHTS buzzed softly in the background as they kept the Zephyr fixed in position. I crossed my arms and watched with amusement as the machine mimicked the motion. I could only guess at how it appeared to an outside observer. A giant robot standing in midair, legs spread slightly and with its arms folded across its chest. I hoped it was an intimidating sight. I giggled, no one but a bunch of automated cameras were here to see me. And cameras were hard to impress. I kept in my current stance while scanning the area around me.

Behind me were the outskirts of Ibliss, just visible on the horizon and even then only because I was so high up into the air. It was too far to make out any features. All I saw was the lightglow of a billion of homes, industry, commercial zones and the whole load you found in a city. Above me was another glow, this one in the form of a ring that spanned the sky from one end to the other. The space-ring, home to another seven billion people or so, complete with everything else they might need. With gravity equal to only half of the planet’s, it was a popular place for newcomers to go and live. I had never been up there, though I did met a guy who lived there last year. The lack of gravity had turned him into a weak noodle unable to pull a lousy ten gees, bah. The rest of the sky was a pale crimson, as the light of untold thousands of suns burned down on it. To each side, I saw the ocean, with a few scattered platforms here and there, a pinprick of light in a sea of black waves. Ahead of me lay the rocky plateau that was the LMP’s testing ground. That was the most interesting direction for me.

I buzzed the LMP. After several attempts, someone picked up the line on the other side.
“Emmy, is that you?” A voice growled. Ah, crap. It was the boss. Now what was I going to tell him? That I skipped out with a multi-billion UMU machine that had gone through a major overhaul and hadn’t been quite tested yet? Heck, not even the ARC-LIGHTS had been given a try-out. There had been no guarantee that they wouldn’t just stop all of a sudden. Hmm, I should’ve given that a thought earlier, before scooting off. I sighed. There wasn’t much I could tell him.
“Yup. That you, Freddy?” I replied after the tense silence.

I expected a lot of yelling and name-calling, the message that he was going to dock my pay, that I was going to face the consequences. But none of that. Instead he just grumbled incoherently for a bit before responding in a much more amiable tone.
“I could tell you about the chain of command we have here, even though we’re civilian. But none of that. A fish that’s been out of the water for three weeks can’t be kept from swimming in the nearest pond no matter what you try. So I’ll let it slip this time.” I let out my breath. Wow, I didn’t even knew I’d been holding it. Wew, this was good news. No punishment. Yay!
“But you are going to have to make up for my mercy.” Aw, crap.

“Like what?” I asked warily.
“Do I have to give you mo….” I bit off my words when a bright white flash zipped to me. I lunged to the side and pushed the boosters up to full performance. The Zephyr instantly sped off to the left in a quick barrelroll-dive at five g acceleration. The flash passed me overhead with scarcely a dozen metres of clearance. I gasped for breath as I brought the Zeph back to a halt. Going for high-g maneouvres can be hard on your breathing.
“Damn you, Freddy! What was that all about?!” I complained once things had calmed down a bit and I’d ascertained that no more slugs would be coming my way. it might have been an ultra-fragile practice-round, but I wasn’t going to let myself get hit by it. My boss howled with laughter on the other side of the line. Then I heard a crash and an ‘ow’.
“Bloody chair getting in my way. Drat, I thought I could surprise you by getting you absorbed in our conversation. But not a chance at that, eh?” He mumbled so soft I could barely hear. I stuck out my tongue and wished the line also passed on visual instead of just audio. Even a phone could do that. But that portion of the bandwith was taken up by information on the Zeph’s performance. Oh well.

“So you want me to do some target-practice?” I asked.
“Ye…” I cut the channel and grinned. It had not been a question, but a confirmation. So the boss wanted me to try it out by shooting up cardboard while dodging some flares. This was going to be fun. Lots of fun.
“Weapons on.” I called and sped off towards the plateau at full thrust. A green reticule flashed on my hud, moving whenever I moved my right arm.
“I should remember to ask them to whip up a railgun designed to fit the other arm. I’m left-handed.”

[jack cloudy]

Before writing this combat scene, I'd guessed that the Zephyr could *only* reach Mach two and that combat wouldn't be a very intense afair. I wasn't even close. Read on. Oh, and I apologize if there is a lack of grammar in places. I think it fits the scene better to cut off the sentences in places.



Twenty kilometers distant, no response. There was a boom as I broke the soundbarrier, then absolute silence followed, safe for my own breathing. Fifteen, nothing. The plateau steadily grew in size and I could now begin to make out details, like the ragged canyon. Still nothing. They were taking their time, weren’t they? The thought never crossed my mind. It was irrelevant and I never think irrelevant thoughts, not while operating an HGM. Ten, a response. A dozen red dots rose up from the plateau. They were in a clumped double pentagram, with a pair of dots spiraling in the center. Turrets or decoys? No way to tell till they began to fire.

I aimed the railgun at the spiraling ones. Five kilometers. A minute shudder on six dots. I zipped straight up, at seven gees. Six flashes passed beneath my feet. Six turrets identified, now with a blue ring around the dot.

At nine kilometers distant again, I leveled out. It was time to retaliate and I had a perfect angle. Reticule on one turret, squeezing the trigger. The weapon cast out a flash of its own as the bullet sped off in its plasma sheath. The bullet went one way, I went the other as the recoil sent all two tones of me reeling back, forcing me to fight it in order to maintain my position. Three g upward spiral before straightening out. At this distance, the mach 45 projectile reached its target in just over half a second, far too short to both react and dodge far enough to make it miss. The fact that it was small didn’t matter either. It was fast enough to cause a terrific shockwave in both the air and the more solid turret, powerful enough to rip the latter to pieces. One dot winked out. Eleven left to go.

I checked the late turret’s motion. Not even a single meter. Low mobility, slow response, both? Did the same thing go for its siblings? I didn’t ponder the question. Their actions would tell me what their capabilities were.

Five flashes sped to meet me, four to block all directions I could dodge in, one heading straight for the Zephyr’s head and the primary sensor-cluster. Full stop, jerked head to the right, near miss. No response yet from the unmarked dots. All decoys, or turrets pretending to be decoys?

One more dot winked out as my railgun struck. At only nine kilometers, they were too close to evade, but I was having a hard time doing it as well. Backflip, aborted prematurely. One of the Zeph’s antenna got hit and shut down to simulate damage. The kiddiewalk was keeping me from using all of the machine’s mobility. I couldn’t even go upside-down for a moment, let stand doing the upside-down hover while shooting. I had to do something before I got shot down, which would happen if I stuck here. I was taking them down, but I was still outnumbered and there was only one of me to aim for. They were using bullets as well, so ECM wasn’t very effective. I had to make a choice, fast.

Retreat? The greater distance would make dodging easier, but they would gain the same advantage, turning it into a stand-off. Close in? Their formation was dense, too dense to put up an effective field of fire within point-blank. Close in it was, without the kiddiefunction.
“Full manual” Showtime.

Maximum acceleration, nine gees. I’d never before pushed the ARC-LIGHTS that far, but I wasn’t going to hold back now that they could take it. I couldn’t hear if they were whining like hell because the sound couldn’t catch up, but my HUD didn’t blink any warnings, so I assumed they were doing just fine. Zig-zag, three flashes missed me. Counter, the right arm swung back with the recoil but I kept the Zeph steady this time. Half of the known turrets were now gone, leaving three and the six unknowns.

Three kilometers, I ejected the railgun, freeing the right hand for melee. The rods on the Zephyr’s knees launched from their holsters and I grabbed both before slamming their ends together. The ends of the now combined rod extended to form a staff nearly thirty meters long. I checked my velocity. Mach 3.6.

One kilometer, deceleration, but I would still go real fast when crashing through that formation. Blue rings appeared on the unmarked dots. So all were turrets. Smart. I swung a figure eight, smacking one into another and cracking a third on the backswing. Not smart enough. Six left. Somersault, kicked one into another, swung the staff against a third turret’s ARC-LIGHT cluster, separated the rods and threw one of them at a fourth. Ten down, two left.

I gripped my now fifteen meter-staff and pounced one of the remaining pair, the spiraling ones. The one I ignored finally got off a solution and tried to shoot me, but I countered by sweeping my victim into the path of the bullet. The turret shut down and tumbled out of the sky while I leapt ahead at the last one. I blocked a second flash with the rod before poking the barrel, crumpling it inward till it touched the magazine and squashed it as well. The magazine exploded violently, taking the turret with it. All down. Banzai and stuff.

I continued to decelerate for another fourteen kilometers before coming to a halt. Finally I allowed myself to catch a good breath. I checked the stopwatch that had begun to run the moment the first dot had been detected and stopped once the last one had been destroyed. Total time: just under twenty seconds.
“Wew, a new record. Wonder how I did that. No static cardboard targets though, too bad.” I wheezed and finally allowed any coherent thoughts to enter my mind that weren’t directly focused on fighting. Then I remembered something else I’d observed during the practice.
“What the hell?! Mach 3.6?! Since when did…..Holy tapdancing snakes, I can outrun a lightningbolt with this!” I gasped. The Zephyr suddenly lurched, catching me off-guard and putting me into a spin for half a second. That must have been my shockwave, the one that couldn’t catch up all the time I was zooming along.





OOC: And that was that. I actually calculated the time and velocity, though I can't guarantee the accuracy of it. Still, that's nearly twice as fast as the max I'd guessed and taking down twelve targets in under twenty seconds is pretty damn impressive. What am I saying? Take away his god-mode PS-armour, and Emmy will bloody screw over Kira -God- Yamato and his Strike -Beamspam- Freedom in a heartbeat! More speed, more range, better reactions, can't beat that no matter how many disco-light guns you have.

[Olen]

Nice. I like, I like very much. You have a good style.

The physics were all fairly good, except: 'then absolute silence followed,', and 'I couldn’t hear if they were whining like hell because the sound couldn’t catch up,'.

The air in the machine will be moving at the same speed as her and sound will move though it at 340m/s realative to her so she will hear anything from inside it and anything from ahead (though with significant doppler effect).

Also the shockwave was bigger than it would be but was cool so it doesn't matter. But I shan't bore you with physics because the silence part was also cool and quite frankly cool is better than accurite.

Having seen that I don't think the antagonist is at all overpowered, she is insane.

*Awaits next part*

This post has been edited by Olen: Nov 19 2007, 05:36 PM

[jack cloudy]

I originally thought about internal sound, but I figured it just wasn't cool.

I didn't think about the Doppler-effect though. Nice idea, I could use it during subsonic flight. For now, let's just assume that the Zeph goes for magical sound dampening once velocities get too high so as not to confuse the operator or something.

Anyway, the following piece made me realize a new side of Emmy. Wow, I wonder how she's going to deal with it.




My heart was thumping, my breaths came in hurried gasps, adrenaline shot through my veins, there was the little shock whenever a carbon igniter fired in a muscle somewhere and my back was all tingly. It felt great. Wait, back tingly? It wasn’t tingly, more like…sparkl…no wait, it was….”Wah! It burns, it burns! Ow, get it off, get it off!” I screamed, tore off my helmet in a panic and flung it away. It bounced off against the inside of the cockpit and smacked right back into my face. Ouch.
“Eep, bad hair, bad hair! Bad!” I grabbed handfuls of it and pulled it out of my suit in a hurry. Those strands were pretty much on fire! Only the gauntlets I wore kept my hands from suffering the same fate as my back. Of course, this also meant that the Zeph was whacking itself upside the head.

I sniffed and hung my head once the last killerhair had been pulled away from my flesh. It just hurt more than anything ever had before but the sensation was already diminishing as my nanites blocked the neural net all across the harmed area. Still, it was enough to make tears spring up in my eyes and it was too late to undo the damage. The helmet in my lap buzzed once, then the boss’ voice came through cleanly.
“Ok, we lost contact with all probes. Get back so we can take a look at the recordings and se…”
“I hate you.” I sobbed, interrupting him. It left him dumbfounded.
“Huh?” Was all Freddy could think of saying.
“I don’t want this, not this. It hurts, it just hurts. All of it, it’s just not fun anymore. And it’s all your fault! NOW GET OFF THE LINE! I wanna go home.” The boss said nothing, he simply hung up, which was the best thing he could do given the circumstances. I flew the Zeph back on autopilot.

Scarcely half an hour later, I was back in my office cubicle at room 10, sitting on a turned-over box, in my underwear. Sam was busy behind my back, holding up my hair with one hand while applying medical goo to the blisters all over my back with the other. All while singing a happy tune which made me wince.
“Stop it.” I snapped after she’d repeated the tune four or five times.
“Stop what?” Sam inquired with an inapropiately innocent tone. She knew me well enough to know exactly what I meant.
“The whistling, it’s annoying.”

Sam pressed the goo on a burn harder than was necessary. It made me yelp.
“What was that for?” I snarled and glanced at her over my shoulder. Sam wagged a green goo-covered finger in front of my nose and winked.
“Now now, look at that sad face. Cheer up. It’s not as bad as it feels right now. They’re mostly second degree burns with the occasional third. With all the regenerative nanites pumped into your system, all traces will be erased in say, a month or five. And that’s if you don’t pay a visit to a professional to get it fixed up sooner. So don’t worry.” She giggled and pulled my hair.
“Hey, that hurts!” I squeaked.
“Your hair has cooled back down to forty or so degrees. It’s harmless, so cheer up! Here, have a roach. It may be cold now, but I bet it’s still good. Not that I would ever eat it, mind you.”

I turned away and stared at my feet. I was furious, at anyone and anything, didn’t matter who or what. I’d passed the phase of regret and was now in the phase of infinite rage.
“Cheer up? Did you just forgot what caused it in the first place? Are you that stupid, furball?! Do you have brainrot or something? Is there wax in your ears?!” I could hear Sam reel back. I’d never called her a furball before, nor had I ever lashed out at her like that.
“It was all because of the damned cooling in my hair! The hair I need to tuck down my suit and flatten across my back just to put on the damn helmet! The hair that would get stuck behind everything and prevent an airtight seal if I didn’t tuck it in! The hair I can’t cut off because it is the only thing that’s keeping the rest of my body from burning alive! Don’t you get it?! I can’t operate a HGM anymore! I just lost my job because of that and I loved my job! But it’s gone now, gone forever! SO WHY SHOULD I CHEER UP?!” My lungs ran out of air right then, keeping me from yelling anything more.

When I turned to glare at her, I saw that Sam had chosen to stare at her own feet as well.
“So uh, then why don’t you sweat anymore? Wouldn’t that help cooling?” She whispered so soft I could barely hear. If I’d felt any different, I might have blinked at the sight of seeing confident Sam, much taller and popular than me, acting as if she was scared to death of me. Though if I’d felt any different, I might have stopped to think and realize she was indeed scared to death of me.
“Sweating is inefficient and would just make me thirsty. I still can, but the whole system is suppressed because the doc says I don’t need anything but my hair. The cursed hair!” Instead of getting calmer, I was getting more angry by the moment.

The door to my office opened and a tech poked his head through.
“Don’t peek!” I yelled and threw the whole desk at him. He had no idea how fast to pull back his head.
“Sorry…..The boss wants you in his office. Sorry!” Judging by the thumping footsteps, he was sprinting away as fast as he could. I scoffed at the message. The boss wanted to see me? Wrong. I wanted to see the boss. I snatched up my regular clothes and began to put them on as quickly as possible.

When I went for the door, Sam grabbed me by the shoulder and tried to pull me back.
“Don’t go. Please!” She pleaded.
“Look, I’m afraid you’re going to do something you’ll regret. Let me go, take some rest.” I turned and promptly kicked at one of her knees which buckled with a sickening crack. I then pulled free from her grip and opened the door while Sam tipped over.
“Regret? The only thing I regret is ever listening to the honoured user in the first place. Stay out of this Sam. Mind your own business.”

I went in the office without knocking or anything. The office was a nice place, more like a lounge than a place to work. Sure, there was the desk with a workstation, but there was also a tv, couches, an arcade machine, a minibar, magazines and posters, most of them of the perverted type, cause this was the boss’ special place. It wasn’t unusual to find techs spending their break here, chatting around and relaxing. Now, there were two competing at the arcade machine. I saw none of it, I just went straight for Freddy sitting on the sofa and watching tv while drinking beer.

“Hi Emmy, nice of you to come so quic…..Wait, put me down girl, put me down!” Sweat broke out on his forehead when I hauled him up.
“Nice of me to come? Why, you moron!” I shrieked and tossed him against the tv.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?!” I asked, taking a step up towards his crumpled form. Instantly both my hands where grabbed by the wrists and pulled behind my back.
“Stop it! You’re hurting him!” A voice shouted. My own voice. I had no trouble pulling free and punching my twin in the stomach. I could hear stuff snapping somewhere inside her and she let go.
“Good, I want him to be hurt! Stay out of it, sis!” I claimed. I then walked up to Freddy and grabbed him by the chin. The techs had stopped their game but didn’t try to stop me at all. They were too scared.
“You’ve ruined my life! I should have never listened to you in the first place when you came with the idea of getting those alterations! You…..Sick perverted pig!” I pushed his head back forcefully. Something cracked and he went completely limp.

“Well, don’t you have anything to say?! Say something!” I screamed. Freddy did not respond at all. I could hear my sister wimper on the floor behind me.
“My god. You….you killed him.” She cried.
“I did not! I’m too small and weak to kill a man half his size, especially with my bare hands.” I objected.
“Think I don’t know human anatomy? A neck isn’t meant to be twisted full-circle! And you’re not too weak, sis! You got boosted, remember?!” Then it hit me. The desk I’d thrown, ruining Sam’s knee with a nonchalant kick, picking Freddy up and hurling him across the room, breaking my sisters abdomen with just one punch, then snapping Freddy's neck like a twig. I’d killed him, and it was not impossible. I no longer knew my own strength. It made me sick and I could do nothing but throw up.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Nov 22 2007, 07:52 PM

[Olen]

That was a... surprise

I'm likeing this even more, totally unexpected plot developments amd I wander how she will react. Thats some good charactisation. And fast moving and whimsical.

In fact you only commited one heinious crime in that section:

"of it, sis!” I claimed" need I say said bookism? The word said is invisible and can be repeated without worry. Claimed makes the reader double take - she wasn't claiming anything...

[jack cloudy]

Actually, I thought that when she said ,,I want him to b hurt", it was a claim she was making. Nevermind, though. And I also think I suffer from saidphobia. I avoid that word like the plague, even though it isn't that bad to use it. I even go so far as using the word 'spoke', which means exactly the same thing.

Anyway, Emmy's reaction will be postponed. First more Amgin.


Chapter 8: David and Goliath.

Amgin sat on the sofa and read one of the magazines that had been placed on the table in a pile. The article was about the differences between hydraulics and artifial muscle-layers. So far, the only advantage hydraulics had in the article was ease of construction and maintenance. Everything else was lopsided in the muscle’s favour. It barely interested him though. For him, reading this was just a way to spent time and perhaps learn something in the meantime that might have some use somewhere in the future, or perhaps not.

A light creaking alerted him to a change in his surroundings. He closed the magazine and put it back on top of the pile before looking at the cause of the creak. There was a woman standing at the top of the marble stairs leading down. It took little imagination to conclude that she had been the cause. For one thing, she certainly hadn’t been there five seconds earlier.

Amgin pushed himself up out of the couch and extended a hand.
“Ah, miss Cliff. I’m honored that you were willing to make time for me so soon.” He said by way of greeting. The woman shook his hand with a slight hesitation he hadn’t noticed during their earlier meetings.
“No problem….I guess.” She mumbled. The man cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding on anything, but is there something wrong?” He inquired. The woman shook her head so slight he barely noticed.

She walked over to the closet that had caught his eye before, creaking at each step. The closet was an antique, Victorian style. It just didn’t fit.
“No, everything’s fine. The shoes I bought are just noisy. It bugs me, that’s all. Anyway, shall we?” The Roman was just about to ask why she didn’t plan on using the stairs, but the sight of the closet’s contents stopped him in his tracks. While the closet had been old-fashioned, the inside definitely wasn’t. He could now see that there was a steel cage, barely big enough for two persons to stand in, with a small panel on the left wall. Someone had built an elevator in it. With a shrug, Amgin ignored the oddness and stepped into the elevator. There was plenty of room, since his host wasn’t exactly the largest person around. He still had to hunch at the shoulders for a bit to dodge the ceiling. Noiselessly, the elevator descended down the shaft.

“Is it far?” Amgin asked after half a minute.
“Well, where we are going is five kilometers below the surface, hence why I don’t suggest using the stairs all the way. There is a connection to the stairs every tenth floor, and there are storage facilities beginning at three kilometers deep. So, patience, please.” The woman explained. She seemed to have recovered from whatever was holding her down. Amgin crooked a smile.
“I can be patient. Five kilometers down. Just another result of the high prices on real estate here, I assume. If I’m still up to date, the price only goes for the area above ground. Everything you can place below it is for free.” He commented.

He sneaked a glance at the person standing beside him. Though they had met three times already, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was dealing with a child. No doubt she wasn’t, or she would never have been able to get enough education needed for her career. But she looked like one, and to his subconscious, that made all the difference. Again he wondered if she was by chance related to Claudius’ new family, as he had done on the boat. The resemblance was there, albeit superficial. The same crimson hair and blue eyes, but that was where it ended. And in an age where one could buy haircolour and eyecolour at the mall, the similarities that were there were insufficient to make any guesses. The formal suit felt more suitable to a butler than a technician, but it also demonstrated that she lacked most feminine features, reinforcing his feelings of dealing with a child.

He noticed with a startle that she’d been openly looking at him all this time. He shifted his gaze to the cabin’s doors, but not before noticing the hint of disapproval within her eyes. The time went by slowly and he was beginning to wonder if the elevator had stopped altogether. Then the doors opened and he looked down a large corridor, littered with heavy machinery. He could see a row of humongous doors lining the walls, which made it apparent that this hall was only the tip of the iceberg. As small and simple as the office at groundlevel had been, so large and complex was the area down here.
“Impressive. I was beginning to wonder if this was really a multi-billion UMU business.” Was all he decided to say.

He was led to the door marked with a large three. There was a smaller staff-door built within the large one, which was now being opened by the tech.
“Excuse me, but aren’t we supposed to perform paperwork at an office or something?” Amgin asked. The woman made a dismissive gesture with her hand.
“The office is closed. Someone broke the vendor machine and it is a mess now, coffee, fizzy drinks, snacks, all on the floor. It’s going to be hell to clean that up. I’ve got a small cubicle on site, we can use that.” She said forcibly. Amgin noticed that there was something she wasn’t telling him and it put him on full alert.

He was told to go in first and so he did. He went through a small tunnel and froze at the other end. While he had prepared himself for what he believed he was going to see, he hadn’t prepared himself for what he actually did saw. In broad lines, it was exactly like his expectations, only three times larger in every dimension. He had to pull his eyes away from it and focused on the first thing that caught his attention, a cardboard sign placed in front of the thing’s foot. Like with the closet earlier, it looked out of place within its high-tech surroundings.

SRG-01 Soldares Super-heavy frame.
Developer: LMP
Main design: Liqqil D. Cliff.
Manufacturer: LMP
Ownership: LMP (Possible sale to Gaius Demitrius)

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Liqqil commented behind him. Amgin shook his head.
“A child built this? No, here I go again. No child, just someone who chose to look like one.” He thought. He turned and jabbed a thumb at the black giant that dominated the room.
“When I asked you to think big, you took that quite literal, I see. And I really am impressed.” He replied to which the woman grinned.
“Well, since you have apparently placed a similar order at five of our direct competitors in the business, I had to make sure my design was far beyond whatever they came up with. A matter of pride.” Amgin frowned.
“You figured that out?” He asked warily. If that part of his plan had leaked out, other parts might have been compromised as well. Fortunately for him, Liqqil didn’t seem to care much.
“Oh, I sometimes hack into their databases when I’m bored. Keeps them on their toes, if they ever find out, which they never do. I found your number and the blueprints they proposed. So, you see.”

The grin doubled in size.
“Alright, I’ll give you the big tour. Ahem...cough…I present to you the Soldares, or the Sol as we know it. Standing at over thirty metres in height, it is quite possibly the tallest HGM in existence. HGM stands for Humanoid Giant Machine, in case you were still wondering. The internal skeleton is a neo-carbon composite, as is the exterior. Due to that, it is relatively lightweight considering its volume, weighing in at just over ten tonnes. It is powered by standard powercores commonly found in heavy industrial appliances, and moved by four independent layers of synthetic muscle. The muscles can lift in excess of twohundred tonnes, but the frame can’t support that weight. Which is bad.” Amgin cocked an eyebrow. He’d never heard a tech say that his or her work was bad. Did this mean that while impressive, the machine was simply not suited to his needs?
“So me being me, I had to make sure it actually could do the full twohundred without buckling. So I added some more powercores and linked them up to heavy-duty Dispersals of my own design which are placed at critical locations to ease the load.” Liqqil continued as if she hadn’t noticed his doubts.

“You design Dispersals?” Amgin interrupted.
“Yup. I started with the type of unit you find in plugs, the one that adds the solid to a holo by applying a plate of negative impulse. First I simply upsized it, but the whole thing became unstable. So in the end I had to do a lot of readjusting and modifying, enough to write a hundred books on it. Maybe I should, I’m sure it would put me in the running for a Nobel prize. But the end of the story is that it works and the Sol can now lift twohundred tonnes.” Liqqil said with an arrogant smirk.
“A child makes a breakthrough in the development of Dispersals that act beyond Newton’s sixth gravitational limit? Crazy.”
She turned to face him.
“So, are you buying?”

Amgin looked at the Soldares as he thought about it. It was only a frame he had bought. He would still need to add a lot of equipment to make it useful, but the big question was if the equipment would fit.
“This is a frame. Can the OS adapt to any new hardware I might add?” He asked.
“Can it? It’s a rank six AI we’re talking about here. I absolutely guarantee that it will be able to adapt to any hardware you plug into the system. It also has limited sentience, multiple anti-virus applications including a firewall, the ability to rewrite limited sections of its core programming and it plays one mean game of chess.” Liqqil told him. She pointed at a monitor which had flashed to light on its own.
“In fact, I have even gone so far as to design you an exterior shell with plenty of sockets for plugging in stuff.” She added.

Amgin glanced at the screen.
This Site has restricted access. Only those of sixteen years of older are allowed to enter.
He frowned.
“Your site has restricted access?” He grunted. Liqqil looked positively scared out of its wits.
“That’s not what I wanted to show you. And it’s just a spare parts salesman, for crying out loud! Why should it have an ageblock?!” She squeaked. The monitor flashed again, this time to show an image of the Soldares, coated in what looked like a second skin of golden armourplating. Amgin saw that the screen had changed on its own, without any action on the part of his host.
“So, direct access? That would explain a lot of things I’ve noticed, especially the idea of a child genius. And it would also explain why she lets herself be stopped by an ageblock that low.”
“You’re a Doll.” He concluded.
“I guess that means the relative-theory is out of the window now. She isn’t even of flesh and blood.”

Liqqil blushed.
“So….you figured it out. Ok, so I am. I’m a five months old rank nine and fully sentient AI planted in a heavily modified specimen of the Liqqil 2-B interactive Doll. But I don’t do Doll stuff, so don’t even think about it, you pervert. NOW CAN WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?!” She slapped her forehead.
“Ugh, I sound like Emmy. Speaking of which, I hope she went home as I told her. Anyway, you buying?” Amgin took one last glance at the black frame.
“I am. Can I have a copy of the blueprints and the proposed exterior?”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Nov 25 2007, 09:56 PM

[jack cloudy]

The Doll clapped her hands.
“Ok! Then let’s get this show on the road. I prepared all the paperwork, so all you need to do is sign it. Here’s a pen, know how they work? I need your signature here, here, here, here and in these places. Each page, backsides also. And another time for the copy! One more time to confirm…and….all done! Congratulations, mister. You are now the proud owner of this Soldares-type frame! We of the LMP guarantee its continued functioning for two years and you get not a twenty, not a fifty, but a sixty percent discount on spare parts in the next two decades! It’s a real bargain! And just because its you, we’ve got a plushy miniature, always a hit with the kids, if you had any that weren’t give or take twothousand years old. If, somehow, you find that you are unsatisfied with our product, return it in one piece within a week in its original state and you get your all of your money back. Of course, if I find any damage, I’m not going to pay in full.” She stopped and winked.
“Thanks for putting up with me and waiting till I got it out of my system. Whenever I make a sale, I always get all giddy with excitement. Can’t stop it.”

Amgin merely had merely kept his eyes on the forms all the time.
“You people really like physical documents, don’t you?” He noted dryly.
“From riches to being completely broke in a single stroke of a pen. If this wasn’t necessary, I wouldn’t have done it in a thousand years. I wonder how long it will take for the LAVI to find out that I have two identities. Should be a few hours, at the minimum. Long enough to be gone by the time they come here to find out what I just bought.” He thought at the same time. Liqqil picked up the cardboard sign and folded it up.
“In a high-tech environment, sometimes you feel the urge to go absolutely prehistoric so that’s why. Costs a bit, but the boss has always been generous with his budgets. Guess, I won’t be needing this one anymore.” She muttered and leaned the sign against the nearest wall.

“So, congratulations again and all that. You got a truck waiting outside to cart this thing to wherever you want to cart it?” She asked next. Amgin shook his head.
“I’d thought you would still need a few days or so to finish the construction.” He replied, gesturing at the machine.
“Is it fully functional?” He added.
“You could walk it right out of here as soon as you got the key, which is dangling from the little hook mounted right next to the door. It’s the big one, with the golden maple-leaves painted on it. Made it myself, based on the design for car-keys six decades back. Except it’s flashier.”

Amging cleared his throat and took the key off the hook. It was large, as large as the pen he’d used two minutes ago. And heavy. He frowned and spun it between two fingers in a slow arc.
“An old-fashioned car-key? The way these people mix old with new is just insane. A modern robot and it needs this primitive monstrosity to activate? It’s all mechanic as well, not even a digital signature. Any fool could just make a mold and duplicate it ten times over. Crazy.” He thought.
“Well, whatever is the case, I had not yet hired a truck. The one I did have in mind turns out to be too small anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. It appears that I have to walk it out, as you said.”

Liqqil shrugged.
“Fine by me. It’s how I like to see it anyway. I did not go cracking my head over making the perfect HGM and then see it hauled off like some sort of Obsidian statue. I’ll make a phone-call to the authorities to get permission for the self-powered transportation of heavy machinery. Want me to bring you something to drink when I come back?” She asked.
“Can’t you make a direct phone-call from here?” Amgin wondered and she shrugged again.
“I could, technically. But my dad demands that I always use an external device as a buffer against any viruses or hacking attempts. So I’m stuck using a normal phone just like everyone else. Bah, the worst virus I ever got only gave me the hiccups for half a second.” She snorted.
“Nevermind though, I’m a girl and I prefer some privacy when I’m on the phone, both for business and private. So, drink?”

Amgin chuckled at the explanation.
“I see. And I would like to have a Cappuccino, if you don’t mind.” He said.
“A little robot built a big robot? Puts a whole new swing on the old David and Goliath.”
“Cappuccino it is. Well, see you later. I’ll be right back!” He waited till she’d left and closed the door before advancing his plan to the next step. He had a frame, now he had to turn it into a robot, which he would then have to turn into a weapon. He climbed up the ladded and made his way across the walkways in search of the cockpit which he knew had to be there. All HGMs were manned, even if it was just so that there was an operator who could pull out the key, quite literal in this case, if anything went wrong. He found it later than expected, wedged between the two shoulders at the back.
“Hmm, the article I read upstairs gave ‘cockpits accessed from the front’ as one of the design rules for mecha. Heh, but that only referred to tvshows, I guess.”

He peered through the dark gap into the cockpit itself. There wasn’t enough light to make out the details, but he could see that the cockpit was a spacious hollow sphere. There was a comfortable looking seat suspended in the center, with a control board that looked like a hoof-iron. He looked closer to see what kept the seat and the board suspended and found it in the form of several thin beams leading to the edge of the sphere, like the spokes on a wheel.
“Well, here goes.” He muttered and climbed onboard where he draped his raincoat over the back of the seat before sitting down. The cushions were soft and indeed comfortable.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. A waterbed with massage-function? It’s a control-station used for operation a robot, not some kind of five-star hotel.”

“Good afternoon.” A warm and motherly sounding voice greeted him while four small spots lit up to illuminate the cockpit. Amgin tipped the rim of his hat, even though he knew that such a gesture was wasted on the AI. With the extra light, he could make out the colours and found them to be a dull grey, which disappointed him slightly. He’d been expecting something flashier.
“Good afternoon as well. Am I correct in assuming that you are the AI in control of this HGM?” He replied.
“I am. You are the second person to enter this chamber. Based on that fact, I assume that you are my owner and master, Gaius Demitrius. Am I correct?”

Amgin cringed. The words ‘owner’ and ‘master’, if used in this context, brought back memories of an older age. Back in Pompeii, he found the concept of slavery a common and natural thing and even a necessity for any successful civilization to thrive and prosper. Now however, the same concept would make his blood boil.
“How one can change his opinions and beliefs, given enough time.” He thought with a wry grin.
“That I am. You can simply call me Brian though. None of the master and owner stuff. Let’s say…partners instead.” He answered and refocused all of his attention on the conversation.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Brian. I hope that our partnership shall be quite pleasant.” The AI said. Amgin found it hard to imagine that the voice belonged to a construct, a non-sentient one even. While somewhat dry, it responded well enough to everything he said.
“The pleasure is all mine, believe me. And I’m sure it shall be pleasant, for both of us.” He chuckled.

“Anyway, I’d like to get down to bussines now. Do you have a standard plug-socket by chance?” He continued in a more serious tone. A blusih light lit up right in front of him, on the control-panel. The panel itself slid forward over his lap so he could reach every part of its surface easily. The light flashed twice, bringing the shallow socket to his attention. It was just the right size to hold the lower half of a plug.
“In here, please.”

Amgin reached behind him for the plug in his raincoat which he then set in the socket. The blue light dimmed.
“Thank you, Brian.” The AI said and for once, Amgin didn’t pay an ear to how easy the response seemed. He made sure the plug was properly secured before continuing.
“There should be a file stored on it. It’s heavily compressed, yet still over a terabyte in size. The last modification date is in the year 2034, which makes it just over twenty years old. I want you to unpack and access it.” He ordered.
“Please hold on for a moment. This will take some time.” The AI told him so he leaned back and waited.

One by one, a multitude of solid holos erupted all around him. First the plug’s own, then eight more from the panel, then three dozen floating around the sphere, apparently projected by his seat, then finally, the sphere itself turned into a single display. Amgin focused on the few bits of data he could readily recognize, ignoring the rest. There was the old equation, there the proper size of the helix, and so much more.

“Oh, wow. Look at all that. Are you part of the FTL-gate experiment or something? I can’t make out what it all is, but it sure looks complicated.” Amgin peered over his shoulder with a frown.
“Didn’t you ever learn to knock first, miss Cliff?” He inquired. The doll rolled her eyes.
“I don’t remember telling you that you could go and sit in the cockpit. Nor did I tell you that you could play with all the features right now.” She pointed out.
“I seem to remember having to sign a lot of paper forms in order to buy it. I even seem to remember having you confirm the sale in a rather squeaky voice. So am I wrong when I assumed that I could do with my property whatever I want to do, when I want to do it?” Amgin quipped, amused rather than angry.
“Touché. Don’t have anything to take against that…..except for one thing. The product you bought is a thirty metres tall vehicle. Since you are still in a LMP-owned facility, it is my duty and right as the nearest senior supervisor, to instruct you on the topic of security. To say it differently, we don’t want you to go stomp on people so legally, you still have to do what I say, whether the Soldares belongs to you or not. So, want your cappuccino, or want me to throw it into the trashcan? I can do it from here.”

Neither said a word till after Liqqil had made herself comfortable against the arcing wall of the sphere. Amgin took a sip from his cappuccino.
“Hmm, not bad.”
“Yo, Sol. Care to wink all this stuff out for a moment? I want to push my client through the basics.” She then spoke. Amgin cocked an eyebrow.
“Sol?” He merely asked.
“Well hey, can’t let an AI remain nameless. It’s bad for her self-image if we always called her ‘hey, you’. Ignoring the fact that she’s a rank six and somewhat limited in the emotional department.” Liqqil explained casually.
“Sol…that is the name of a star. Did you know that, partner?” The Roman asked his AI.
“I know now, Brian.” Sol replied. This time, it was Liqqil’s turn to be surprised.
“Brian?” She asked with a skeptic frown.
“Just a nickname, just a nickname. Anyway, you were going to push me through the basics?”

The Doll straightened her shoulders.
“Yeah, I was going to. There’s a whole manual in Sol’s database somewhere, but that’s something for you to read later, or not read at all. What I’m going to say is quite simple. One, the Soldares uses a sort of ‘guided operation’. Basically, you decide where to go and Sol determines the best way of getting there, which includes avoiding obstacles. You can drive it like a car with that trackball over there under your right hand, you select stuff on the menus with the cursor which you can use with the trackball under your left hand, or you can use voice commands, if you prefer that. The whole sphere you’re sitting in projects a full-colour image of your surroundings, with the Soldares’ posture placed in a wireframe, so you know where its hands are among things. The high-definition cameras are mounted in the head and focuss on whatever you are looking at. It’s really good if you want to study the flightpattern of a fly on the horizon. If you look down on an area normally obstructed by the panel, or your legs, or whatever. A holo will appear right in front of your eyes to help you, though it will be transparent so you can still check out the menus.” She winked.

“And that’s all. Now I’m going to leave you two alone and socialize. Your permit goes official in an hour. Once it does, just walk out of the door and go left. There’s a heavy-duty elevator at the end of the hall. Don’t worry, Sol will make sure you don’t step on anything.” With those words, the girl climbed down. Amgin casually sipped his cappuccino and glanced at the dark cockpit around him.
“So, I head you play a mean game of chess? Any truth to that, Sol?” He asked after a moment.
“Would you like to play as black, or as white, Brian?”

[jack cloudy]

And Nano has ended. I'm only up to 26000 in one block, though I've got more as separate paragraphs which I need to link together as I go. Anyway, I'll be pumping out some more Luper tomorrow. For now, Escalation.



Chapter 9: Start packing.

Liqqil let out a deep sigh as she sat down in front of the phone. On the other end of the line, there was Freddy. He was eating, some kind of crab.
“Hi, girl. What’s up?” He asked jovially.
“What’s up? Why….you glutton! Don’t you have any idea how we all feel? You got killed, remember?” The Doll interrupted angrily. Freddy just shrugged and put his fork in the crab again.
“Oh, that. Well, I must say I was pretty shocked at first, but I’ve gotten over it. You should do it as well. Dying and resurrecting is painless, just disorientating. It’s no big deal really, not after the little quiz they give you to figure out if it was illegal suicide. Food’s great by the way.”

Liqqil glared at the holo.
“Oh, no big deal. No big deal for you, maybe. For ME, it is a big deal.” She spat. The man stopped eating.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. But can’t we just drop it already? In the words of you two: Can we change the subject? Seriously, you get too depressed for your own good. I didn’t built you to go all mopey-dopey on me. Say, how are you feeling?” He said with a fatherly voice that surprised her.
“Me? Fine, I guess. I got some internal damage but there were enough spare parts to fix it up. The salesman is acting like a prick though, says I’m too young to place an order. Me, too young? Get real. If life was judged on the sum of one’s experience rather than one’s physical age, I would be ranked in the top ten of old people, together with the rest of the Wireheads Anonymous club.”

She took a deep breath.
“Ok, enough with the running around the real subject. Let’s talk about Emmy. I sent her home and she’s probably lying on her bed right now, staring at the ceiling and feeling bad about things.” She told. Freddy looked away from the screen.
“I don’t want to talk about her.” He grumbled. Liqqil threw her hands up in exasperation.
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a jerk about it. She’s totally out of it. She didn’t do it on purpose! And you said you got over it five seconds ago, so don’t act like that!” She said. Freddy shrugged.
“Not on purpose, not on purpose. Geez, am I the only one here who realizes that she killed me? K-I-L-L–E-D M–E. Do you really expect me to just let it slip?” He noted.
“Do I have to remind you of the time I hacked into the governmental database for you and erased a certain file that proved you had fired a mach 34 projectile within city-limits, at one of your competitors? Ten people dead and property damage on the order of six million UMU?” Emmy said sarcastically. Instantly, the man paled.

“You don’t have any proof. Besides, it’s tough business.” He stammered. Liqqil scoffed.
“Yeah, right. Tough business, go screw yourself. This so-called tough business of yours was a private war you tried to start cause you were drunk and thought you were Al Capone or something. We’re the LMP, not the mafia. We produce robots, not bulletholes. And I’ll let you know that I’ve still got a copy of the file in my head and it is admissible evidence as long as I haven’t tampered with it. Which I haven’t. With that, I could send you behind bars and sign you up for mental rehabilitation all in one stroke. Do you want that, daddy?” She snapped. Freddy struggled to regain his calm but he failed miserably.
“Aha, but I’m going to take you down with me, daughter!” He claimed.
“You can’t. I’m property. I can’t be held responsible for any of my actions. Anything you try to pile on me just makes it worse for you.” She folded her arms and leaned back.

“Let’s stop squabbling now. I have every single law burned into memory, every little detail, every little loophole and we both know it. Push my buttons, and I might just feel like using what I know.” She noted. Freddy stabbed his crab with the fork.
“Ok, you win. Geez, who ever knew that the Doll I modified for my personal entertainment would end up blackmailing me? So what do you want?” He snarled. Liqqil let herself go and gave him a victorious smirk.
“First of all, you drop the innuendo. I am not for your personal entertainment, something you should know by now considering the appearance I chose for myself. Also making me smarter was a bad way of making me any more entertaining. Secondly, you will file the whole incident of today as an accident. I don’t care what you’ve got to do for it, but You’re going to let Emmy go free. In return, I’ll not only keep the file I mentioned a secret, I’ll delete it as well.” She began.
“Though in my case, delete only means, remove from temporary storage. I’ve still got a dozen backups hidden around. Better not say anything about that though.”
“Emmy will probably stay away from you for a while, but don’t pay any attention to that. To ease both of your consciences, I’m willing to play messenger between the two of you and get the necessary communication across without having you come face to face. You can also take a vacation for as long as you like and I’ll fill in for you. Two-month stay at a five star resort? You got it. I’ll chip in from my own bank account if I have to.”

Freddy nodded.
“You’re being generous. But I’ve got one term of my own.” He stated. Liqqil frowned.
“And that is?” She inquired warily. If it contained any form of innuendo or perverted ideas, the deal was off and she would sent a copy of the incriminating file directly to the police.
“I want Emmy to be punished, in my own way.” He revealed.
“Be more specific.” The doll demanded. She reached out and pulled a can of beer from the vending machine. All the talking had made her thirsty.
“First of all, I need you to do some hacking again…" Liqqil rolled her eyes. She was so sure she was not going to like this. As he began to talk, she soon realized that she seriously didn’t like it.
“Now I’m the one who needs a vacation. Wait, I know just what to do.”


I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling miserable. Really miserable, as in, MISERABLE.
“Dang…it…..Dang…it…..Dang…it…all…” I moaned and looked sideways, at the big pile that occupied most of the empty space in my room. Cans, bottles, a tankard or two, all empty. Light beer, normal beer, heavy beer, vodka and whiskey, pure alcohol, pure alcohol mixed with sleeping pills. I’d tried just about anything short of swallowing radioactive waste and none of it worked!
“Can’t…get…drunk…anymore…dang…it…” I whispered and put a hand on my eyes to shut out the light. Having a splitting headache and extreme sensitivity to light was as far as I could get. Actually getting drunk seemed to be a thing of the past now that I’d tripled my nanitecount. I just burned it into more fuel and felt the urge to go to the bathroom more often. I’d done that a dozen times already and since the bathroom was still in shambles, I couldn’t flush the toilet. It reeked there now as if a pig had been rolling around in its own dung for days. That was what had made me stop drinking like a miner, not the lack of success at getting drunk. I just couldn’t stand the smell down there any longer.
“Must…buy…an…airfreshener…..later…”

“Alcohol…is…balm…for…the…soul…they…say…..Balm…my…boat…” I grumbled. Needless to say, my mood had hit absolute zero.
“Can’t…get…drunk…anymore…dang…it…” I repeated. The doorbell rang, first a ding dong, then it set in the infamous ‘happy happy happy happy sugarberries’ theme, the one from the show with the same name that is known to be so overwhelmingly happy, it drives people to suicide. Makes for a great motivation to do whatever action is required to shut it up.
“Ugh…go…away…” I groaned. I was not in the mood for guests now. The happy doorbell singing got on my nerves as well, more than usual. But unlike usual, I did not bolt for the door in a bid to just shut it up.

The doorbell went through its rhyme for three full minutes when another ding dong intercut. So my guest hadn’t left yet. The way this was going, it looked like I was in for a long torture session.
“If…I…had…a…gun…or…a…rocket…launcher…I…would…shoot…the…damn…thing…” I hissed, clamping my ears shut. It didn’t help much. The doorbell finished the ‘happy happy happy happy sugarberries’ theme, only to start all over again. The person who made this had to be burned on a stake, again and again, all while listening to his own abomination.
“And……We’re……happy happy happy happy…”
“JUST SHUT UP!!!!” I yelled and stuffed my head under my pillow in the hope that at least that would be able to shut out the agony. Ow, my head felt like it was going to burst at the seams any moment now.

To my surprise, I no could no longer hear the song. Was my pillow that good? I found it hard to believe. Then I heard a door close and a lock click. I winced. My guest was an acquaintance and had a key to my apartment. Oh, crap it all.
“Not…now…” I sniffed from under my pillow.
“Wow, how you can resist the vile influence of that nightmarish laughing is a mystery beyond the greatest minds. Five minutes, and you still didn’t run for the door to shut it up and smash it to pieces. Even I had a hard time, and I’m the one who can shut off her ears on demand all willy-nilly, for crying out loud!” My voice said. Oh no, not Liqqil. Of all people, why did she have to be the one who came to visit me? Why her? I needed time to sulk alone and drown in self-pity and regrets. Having the only person who could possibly understand me and sympathize pay me a visit was the last thing I needed.

“Either…you…shoot…me…or…you…leave…me…alone…and…go…away…” I whined and peered at her from under the pillow. Under normal circumtances, I probably would have liked what I saw. Sis was wearing a formal suit and had her hair braided into a tail, with two little golden clips near her ears. A deep blue tie and shiny leather shoes. She looked like a businessman, or woman, only without the suitcase. That was good old Liqqil, no fancy dresses for her, just a business-suit. She stood straight, arms folded across her chest. I didn’t see any signs of discomfort, did she patch herself up already? I knew she kept quite a few spare parts in a medicinal cabinet but those were for minor injuries, not major. But what did she look like, what word bubbled to the forefront of my mind when I tried to describe her? I thought it over for a bit just to keep my mind busy and came up with the answer. Dependable, that was the word I got when I tried to describe her. Dependable, but that didn’t change the fact that I just wanted her to go take a hike and leave me alone right now.

The girl frowned as she looked down into my eyes.
“Eh, just what did you just say? I couldn’t quite follow it.” She giggled. Oh, gods, not the giggling. Please, not the giggling.
“ Either…you…” I began to repeat but she threw up her hands and interrupted me.
“Okay! I get it already. Just slow down…No, I mean…Just speed up a bit! You sound like some kind of broken recording, all scratchy and stuff.” She lightly tapped the pile of empty bottles with a foot.
“No big surprise though, considering all those gallons of liquid had to go somewhere. Seriously, you could fill a swimming pool with this.” She added. I didn’t reply, just looked at her from under the cover of my pillow. I pressed it against my head a bit harder.

She snatched the pillow out of my hands before I could blink and threw it clean across the room, where it landed in the kitchen sink. Nice shot.
“This isn’t binge-drinking anymore. Are you suicidal or something?! Or wait, do I have to slow down and spell it out for you now? Seriously girl, W-H-A-T…I-S…W-R-O-N-G…W-I-T-H…Y-O-U?” She snapped and leaned in closer, filling my vision with those huge blue sparkling swimming pool eyes of hers.

I rolled over onto my back and tried gazing at the ceiling, but she simply maneuvered so that her face was still hovering above mine.
“A-N-S-W-E-R…M-E…O-R…A-M…I…S-P-E-A-K-I-N-G…T-O-O…F-A-S-T…F-O-R…Y-O-U?” She demanded. I sighed.
“That’s…not…funny…so…leave…me…alone…please…I’m…begging…you…just…go….away…” I pleaded and sniffed.

My sister just shook her head.
“Sorry, but I can’t do that, Dave. You’re obviously phased out of this time-space continuum so you’re moving and thinking slower than the rest of us. It makes having a conversation damn hard, so we’ll have to do something about it.” She giggled. Again, with the giggling. I moaned. Instantly, her expression turned rock-hard and seriously pissed off.
“NOT FUNNY?! IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY, AFTER I CAME ALL THIS WAY TO SEE YOU?! YOU . . . You idiot, I just can’t believe you. You’re like way at the head of the pack in the race for performing the greatest stupidity ever in the whole star streamed galaxy.” She stabbed. She then took on a thinking expression. All these rapid changes were making me dizzy. She really should take a look at that ‘Subconscious Emotion And Posture Emulation Software’ she was so proud of. It was going too fast from one end to the other to be comfortable.
“Now hold still. I’m going to have to fix this mess. Hmm…I know what to do. It’s quite simple, actually. I’ll just have to reverse the polarity on the quantum fluxatronic hyper-boost capacitor, followed by realigning the tachyonflow into their proper formation so I can get at the chronotropic instability and fix the temporal paradox. Or…“ Her fist smacked down, making me blink.
“…I could just clunk you on the head.” She finished dryly.

I rubbed my forehead vigorously. Gosh, it was burning!
“Ow! What did you do that for?!” I squealed, finally at a normal pace, one eye closed and the other tracking her fist that now hung limply at her side. Liqqil stuck out her tongue and wagged a finger in front of my one open eye.
“Aha, it was the most simple way of getting you to talk normal again. And it worked, so you can call me a genius. Oh wow, they should give me a Nobel-prize for this!” She gloated. I sighed long and hard.
“Ouch, why the forehead?! All dogs of the abyss, why the forehead?!” I wanted to know. Again Liqqil stuck out her tongue.
“Cause you are wearing a bandage there. I figured it had to be sensitive.” She explained and hopped down on the side of my bed.

I slowly calmed down for a bit. It didn’t appear as if I was going to get rid of her anytime soon. Not without using force. Though, considering the big mess I made of things today, I wouldn’t be surprised if I could rip her apart with my bare hands. While completely artificial, she wasn’t any stronger than an unaltered human of similar size, which basically meant she had all the strength of a wet noodle. But I didn’t want to hurt anyone. It scared me.
“So, care to tell me why you came to bother me?” I grumbled.

Liqqil smiled without answering and picked up one of the few unopened bottles of beer. She popped the lid, took a sip and scowled.
“Blegh! This stuff is cheap trash. You’ve got bad taste, sister. I suggest you do something about it.” She then said. I rolled my eyes. Bad taste, yeah right. Didn’t keep her from downing the whole can in one gulp.
“You did not come here to drink my booze and criticize my choice. So out with it, what are you up to? Just say it and then go away. I’m not in the mood.” I said.

The girl looked at me and winked.
“Na na naaa, can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And what’s with the mood? Huh, care to tell little sis all about it?” She got another giggling fit right then.
“Oops, this stuff is making me drunk.” She added and I hung my head while letting out three long consecutive sighs.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, ok? Today has been nothing short of a mess. First I wake up with a headache from here to Tokyo, then I break the bathroom and crack a mirror with my forehead, then I have to emberass myself by going to the Hendersons and asking them if I can use their bathroom. Then, I’m stupid enough to answer a phone call from the boss while under a shower and he got all yucky at me. And finally, I screw up with the Zeph, which pisses me off so much I start beating up random people! So really, my life is a mess and I’d like to feel bad about it on my own!”

“Woah, look at all the sadness in you. Seriously girl, some angsting is good but don’t overdo it. It gives you wrinkles.” Liqqil laughed and jumped up from the bed. Dependable? Why did I think of her like that just a few minutes ago? She was acting more like a clown right now.
“Whateeeever.” I mumbled. And got out of the bed myself. I was still wearing my pyamas which Liqqil noticed immediately. She put her hands on her hips and turned to me in a huff. Geez, all these mood-swings were creeping me out big time.
“You did not go out to the mall in that.” She said as if it was a threat. I shrugged.
“Nope, I ordered home delivery. Got a problem with that?” I replied in a dull tone. Liqqil instantly switched back to happy-mode and threw open my closet.

“Good, I would hate to see our reputation get ruined by you showing up in a store looking all normal. Now let’s see, what have we got here? Frilly dress…frilly dress…frilly dress…fril…Do you have anything else but frilly dresses, kneelength socks, silk gloves and those big bows?” She looked shocked. What was her business in my closet anyway?
“Err…I’ve still got the deerskin vest back from when I lived at that stone-age clan. But why do you want with my clothes anyway?” I said.
“Simple, we’re going on a little trip, you and I. So I’m busy selecting nice clothes for you.” A trip? Oh, boy, this had to be the worst time for a trip. Honestly, I didn’t care one way or another. One place to feel bad was as good as any. But if she was going to suggest I should wear that, I would seriously freak out. That thing dated back to a time I didn’t really care about being half-naked, so it showed a lot of skin, was itchy, uncomfortable and sooo not stylish. Though on the other hand, I was only about ten back then, so it wasn’t that surprising that I hadn’t been worried about clothes as much when I got it. Fortunately, this meant that it no longer fit anyway. Liqqil didn’t seem to have noticed the size-gap, or maybe she was just pretending she didn’t. She took it out and looked it over.
“Oh yeah, that thing. Had you screaming and crying for mercy after a measly two days. Modern people these days, can’t handle a bit of mud under their fingernails. Too bad they were stone-age fanatics, or else they would have filmed it and put it up on the net for download. Man, I would so definitely take the time to watch it, and pass it on to all my friends.” I glared and she began to giggle again. What was up with all the giggling? Normally she didn’t do it all the time. Did she pick up a virus somewhere?

It’s still in good shape, so maybe…Nah, wouldn’t blend in.” She said and put it back. Blend in? Where the hell did she want to take her trip?
“Hey! I was not screaming!” I objected. Liqqil stuck out her tongue.
“Says you.” She replied.
“Well I wasn’t. And I held out for two and a half days, mind you. I still had to walk back to the reserve’s perimeter.” Liqqil had stopped rummaging around in my closet. She clapped her hands.
“Know what? Just put on what you were wearing this morning and we’ll get going right away.” She decided.
“Go where?” I asked.
“Where to? Nowhere in particular, just away from Freddy. Gives him some time to cool. In the meantime, we’ll do some sightseeing.”

So it had gotten out. I had begun to wonder, but she did come because of Freddy. I looked away.
“Can’t you see? I am away from Freddy. He isn’t coming to my apartment. I’ve got the whole self-destruct by alcohol routine down, except my bloody nanites keep burning the stuff for fuel so I only get all hyper. It’s supposed to be alcohol, not caffeine!” I complained. Liqqil shook her head.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Woe is me and life sucks, all that crap. Now get dressed already.”

[Olen]

Still amusing. I must say I didn't foresee Freddy just coming back to life. Theres ceertainly a good few shocks in this.

I'll be interested to see where this goes...

[jack cloudy]

The way I figured it, if you're already dead, why should you die again? I had three choices basically.
1: Make everyone pure immortals. This would be boring as there would be no threats possible.
2: Make them unavailable, either by claiming that the second death is for real, or by adding a new stage of afterlife. Both of these would make Amgin unavailable as medical science was still in its roots in his age. The multiple stages feel awkward as well.
3: Just have them resurrect, no questions asked. And put down a thriving corporation around it while you're at it.
Guess which one I picked. Anyway, story-time.


One hour, forty-five and a half minutes later, Liqqil stopped dragging me around. I stopped as well and put down the two travelling bags I was carrying. I stretched myself out. The new muscles and skeleton had advantages but disadvantages as well, which I was beginning to realize. One disadvantage was that it made me the perfect candidate to carry all the luggage like a mule. I was still busy stretching, hands above my head, when some guy ran out of the crowd and grabbed the handle of one of the bags. I didn’t move, just looked on with vague amusement how he tried to drag it along and fell flat on his face when the bag didn’t budge. He looked up from the streets, rubbed his nose, then looked at the bag and finally at me. I could almost hear him thinking:
“how can such a little girl carry two of those bags when I can’t even shift one of them?”
I dropped my hands down to my sides and gave him a ‘now you know how much you suck.’ look. The would-be thief crawled back onto his feet and ran away before any cops would come along. Or before I would pound him into the pavement. Not that I felt like pounding anything, but he didn’t know that.

“You know, Liq. Maybe you overdid it a bit on the packing.” I said when the man got swallowed up by the crowd he’d come from. Liqqil grinned.
“Overdid it? I don’t think so. I merely assumed that it would be highly unlikely for us to encounter a streetmugger who is capable of lifting a fourhundred kilo bag with both hands. Now tell me, did he move the bag?” She replied. I looked down on the white cylindrical bags.
“Nope, he didn’t. So you’re basically saying that someone who has enough money to get himself altered so that he can lift these bags, won’t go around mugging random people on the streets.” I muttered and resumed my stretching. The doc said I should do a lot of stretching while my body was still getting used to its new structure.

Fourhundred kilograms, twice, which made it eight-hundred. One of the side-effects of not skimping on the budget and maintaining high quality all across the board. I could handle it, easily. My muscles were rated to be capable of lifting twenty times my own weight and I weighed about eighty, which meant that with the bags, I was pulling about half of my limit. My shoes were a different story, though. By now, the soles were almost as flat as a sheet of paper.
“First thing we’re going to do when we arrive wherever it is we’re going, you are going to buy me a new pair of shoes.” I said.

Liqqil muttered something incoherently.
“Yeah, ok, ok. Fine, I’ll try to think about it, maybe. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know. Now why don’t you just look ahead and tell me what you see.” She finished after a lengthy grumbling-session.
“Not much. A skyscraper, probably at least a hundred floors up. Looks like any other skyscraper I know of. Lots of sparkly glass with little offices behind them.” I answered.
“Not any.” Liqqil quipped. I said nothing and just waited till she would talk some more.
“This here…is the big bozo building of the LAVI” She continued.

“LAVI?” I repeated in a confused way.
“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me your brains just fried themselves. The LAVI! They’re the guys who interrogated you when you first came to Ibliss, remember? They do it with everyone.” Liqqil stated. Now I frowned.
“Oh…right. But I died seventeen years ago, at birth. There isn’t much you can interrogate a baby about.” I said. She turned away.
“Ah, well. I forgot. Guess I need an upgrade.” I cocked an eyebrow. I had the habit of forgetting that my ‘sister’ was really a souped-up Interactive Doll. Only when she mentioned it herself in one way or another, did I become aware of the difference.

I looked at one of my hands and flexed the fingers. Different? We weren’t so different in the end. We both had the same kind of muscles, the same kind of skeleton, the same kind of nanites, the exact same model of access-port at the base of our skull. Heck, the only real difference that mattered to me was that my body was capable of higher performance all across the board.

Liqqil had turned around again and was waving a hand in front of my eyes.
“Hello? Anyone home?” She asked. I looked up and she immediately turned away again, back to the skyscraper.
“Ahem, LAVI stands for Life Afterlife Violation Inspection. That should tell you a bit about them.” She said.
“Religious cops?” Now I was really confused. Why would a simple cop organization, especially one made up of fanatics, need such a tall skyscraper? That thing had to be really expensive, sitting in downtown Ibliss. Heck, the price of land was like a million each square metre.
“They’re not religious, but they are cops in a way. The LAVI guards earth from Ibliss interference. Or in other words, they make sure that we dead people don’t go bother the living people.”

I cut her off.
“Stop dead people from bothering living ones? Are you saying it is actually possible to go to earth? I mean, without skipping back to the edge of the galaxy in a slowboat.” Now I cut myself off.
“Wait a minute. You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?” I asked with dread. Liqqil looked smug.
“If you think that I’m thinking about taking our trip to earth, I sure am. Now come on.” Uh oh. I grabbed the bags and hurried after her. She was heading straight for this LAVI-thing. Now I remembered something else. A movie last year, one of those ‘based on a true story’ things. Wasn’t there a freak wielding dual triple-barreled gatling-railguns playing cop and hunting interdimensional criminals? I seemed to remember something about his organization being called LAVI as well. That movie had like the highest on screen bodycount in two decades. I had almost forgotten all about it. All I really remembered was the criticism I had for his weapon. Sixhundred mach 20 projectiles each second? That guy should have never kept standing, walking or even jumping around. Hell, his arms should have been ripped straight off by the recoil.

“Hey, but what if those LAVI-people find out? Won’t they use lethal force?” I stammered.
“Sure, I wouldn’t expect any less from them.” Crap, just like the movie.
“I’ve got the feeling it’s your brain that got fried. You’re nuts!” I gasped.
“Not really. I’ve got everything under control. Just walk in like you own the place and follow my lead. Everything will be fine, no one will expect a thing and we’ll even get paid.” She stopped to poke her head into an alcove right next to the main entrance, something for which she had to stand on her toes to do.
“Follow my lead? I don’t want to kick in an open door, sis, but I’ve got a baaaad feeling about this. Seriously, you went wacko.” I whispered, just loud enough to be heard. The door swooshed open and I grit my teeth. I hate those loud swooshing doors. Solid holos, a structure with more surface area than the whole planet in orbit, and we can’t make a bloody door that is silent. Crazy.

“Don’t want to kick in an open door, but you’ve got a baaaad feeling about everything right now. Just come on, the Iris scan worked out. We’ll just…..oomph!” Liqqil had walked in as soon as the doors opened, only to bump into someone.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” She snapped. I rolled my eyes. She did act as if she owned the place. The guy simply smiled. I gaped as I looked at him. One of those old powdered wigs Mozart and similar freaks wore, a black mustache that curled upward at the tips, a glittering vest in what I guessed was late fifteenth century’s French nobleman’s fashion. This guy was a relic, and not one bound to one time-period either. My shock was complete when he bowed.

“Good evening. I’ve been expecting you. I would be delighted if you as well as your most charming companion would please us with your presence. Would you allow me to carry your bags for you?” He said gently. I rolled my eyes again and brushed past Liqqil and him. I came out in a huge hall with a marble-tiled floor. Not bad, for a bunch of triggerhappy cops.
“Most charming companion? I feel like a wreck, so lay off on the flattery already.” I muttered beneath my breath. Just for kicks, I gave him one of the bags. His smile dropped, as did the rest of him.
“Oof…You…are quite a lot more…capable than it would appear at first glance, mylady.” He panted. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he continued to pull at the handle. This guy just wouldn’t give up, would he? Liqqil and I both folded our arms and watched him.
“I told you Liq, you overpacked.” I said.
“Oh, hush.” My sister giggled.

The nobleman looked around and waved at someone.
“Ahem, Dean! Come over here for a second!” I looked up. Another guy appeared, though he looked somewhat normal, normal if this had been a military camp, that is. I didn’t like the sneer on his face, too arrogant.
“Why, Zack. Have you gotten in over your head again? Here, let me lift that thing.” He grabbed the handle and pulled. He then let go as quickly as he’d grabbed the bag.
“On second thought, I just remembered I have a meeting. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run before I’m late.” He said and turned away without waiting for an answer. I scoffed.
“Coward. If you can’t lift it, just say so. Don’t go and act all macho.” I said which stopped him in his tracks. He turned around, probably with a biting rebuke on his lips. But to give me one of those, he would first have to pick his jaw up from the floor.
“I guess I’ll just carry them myself then. To the elevator on the other side of that fountain, I assume?” I continued with a sigh and began to cross the hall. Liqqil snickered.

Mister macho decided to just go away and preserve his last shreds of dignity while mister wig ran ahead of us. I looked at the fountain when we passed it. It was a weird but attractive thing. The jet of water kept this big orb suspended. It looked a bit like a globe, but the landmasses were not like those on all other globes I’d seen before. I pointed at it, with my nose since my hands were occupied with the bags.
“What’s that?” I asked. Liqqil leaned in.
“That’s earth, you dummy. Don’t ask anything. Act as if you own the place, remember?” She whispered in my ear. I shrugged and decided to keep silent for now. Honestly, I had the feeling it was us who were the victims of some sort of prank, not the other way around. Did she really believe she could just make them think we were employees here? It looked like it.

[Olen]

Very solid update... looks like things are getting going.

I wasn't criticising the resurection, it fits in well with the slightly whimsical humour in this. I assume there is some greater reason they are taking on LAVI than just for a holiday (though it would almost be fitting if the whole conflict blew up for such a petty reason).

Anyway this is fascinating...

[jack cloudy]

Ok, now this next part is a bit vague. I'm trying to lead the story in the right direction though, so I hope the next update will be a bit easier.




Chapter 10: Uncle Zack wants YOU!

“What?!” I hung my head and let out a tremendously long sigh. Busted.
“Let me repeat myself. You are suspected to be guilty as either perpetrator or accomplice of an illegal hacking operation on this buildings mainframe.” The guy with the moustache repeated with utter calm.
“You’ve got to be joking. I didn’t do any of the sort. Where’s the proof in this?” Liqqil said. Her face was a stony mask without emotion. I envied her. Shutting off all external signs of anxiety with the flick of a mental button was so desirable.

The moustache fiddled with one tip of the thing that I’d turned into his nickname.
“Allow me to begin. First of all, you, nor your friend, are found in our database, which means you have no business here. Furthermore, you conducted a legitimate attempt at passing the iris-scan.” He began to list.
“Prank.” I merely said. Moustache fell silent and renewed his twiddling.
“Hmm, that does indeed happen. Though you will need more than a single word to claim innocence.” He answered after a second or two.
“I’m still saying I haven’t done anything of the sort of nonsense you are accusing me off.” Liqqil said.

“Sir Flammeche, I have some new information. Please wait.” A new voice said, coming from somewhere on the ceiling. Great, an intercom conversation.
“Thank goodness, was about time we got a name here.” I muttered to myself. A solid holo came up on the desk we were sitting behind. For a moment, I thought that maybe the mystery-voice was going to show his face, but none of the sort. Instead, a whole lot of lines of incomprehensible garble appeared. I was looking at it from the wrong side, so maybe that had something to do with it. I glanced at Liqqil. Maybe she could make any sense out of it. I then remembered that she was running in emotionless mode right now, so any efforts at reading her expression would be futile. I yawned and lay my head on the desk.

“These files have recently been altered by several users who utilized multiple dated master-codes for access. Time of alteration was today, between three hours and two hours and fifty minutes ago. While there are hacking attempts upon our mainframe at all moments, there was a noticeable peak in external activity. Judging by the number of files accessed and the timespan, it is prudent to assume that the hacker is artificial. For a static program or regular computer virus, the level of hacking is too sophisticated, which leads me to assume that the perpetrator was an AI of at least rank seven. If we hadn’t switched over to a new system several months ago, this attempt would have been successful.” The voice said in a droning monotone and I began to doze off.


“Well, that’s odd, Charon. You said that the crook would be too stressed out to fall asleep, but they both just did!” I blinked with my eyes.
“Huh, wha? Keep your voice down, it’s not even six in the morning.” Liqqil stammered next to me. My thoughts slowly became coherent again and I realized by and by that I’d fallen asleep, as had Liqqil. Moustache had risen from his seat and looked at us.
“I’m most sorry. My apologies. You see, my assistant here thought both or at least one of you was actually a robot. But robots don’t get bored and don’t fall asleep. Most sorry. I guess you’re free to go then.” He said in an apologetic tone.
“But no more pranks, please.” He then warned.

Liqqil stood up herself and signalled to me that it was time to leave. I got up and wobbled towards the door, still half asleep. Man, that had been one boring report. I stopped in front of the door and waited for it to open. It didn’t. I frowned and kicked it, nothing.
“Gah, you guys have a skyscraper and you can’t even keep the doors functioning?! Buy ones with a handle instead of these automatic ones!” I complained.
“The door is not malfunctioning. Rather, it is locked.” The mystery voice said. All three of us who were in the room looked up at the ceiling.
“I have taken the liberty of conducting a thermal scan and frankly…both of you have the wrong profile. More precisely, variations in body temperature between limbs and torso are almost nonexistent, while your hair has a far higher temperature than the surrounding area. I believe the conclusion would be obvious.” The voice continued. Liqqil stabbed at the ceiling with a finger.
“Hey! I never gave permission for that! And who the hell places an infrared scanner in an office, for crying out loud?” She asked.

“The scan was not conducted in the office, but rather when you stepped through the main entrance at streetlevel.” The voice said. Moustache twiddled with his…moustache.
“And you waited this long to reveal it to us? Seriously Charon, you need to learn how to place priorities.” He noted dryly. I looked at Liqqil and shrugged.
“So what are you going to do now? Shoot us? Then shoot me, I don’t care, but let her out of this.” I said. Instantly, I got a hand slapped onto my mouth.
“Shut up, you idiot! When did you turn suicidal?!” Liqqil yelled.
“A few hours ago, you know when.” I tried to mumble but my words were smothered by her hand.

Moustache shook his head.
“Shooting. I assume you are new to Ibliss. Yes, by all means, with the cycle of resurrection, you do have a form of immortality now. But such a casual stance towards your current life will only cause you to get hurt sooner or later. No, we do not shoot people for no good reason. Rather, we throw them in jail.” He spoke.
,,Then do that. I’ve lived in Ibliss all my life, I just don’t care anymore what happens to me. But don’t go hard on sis, she doesn’t have any resurrections.” I tried to say, but the hand was still messing up my words. Liqqil removed her hand and looked at the ceiling again.
“Ok, I think I’ve figured it out. Charon, a rather fitting name, for a LAVI AI. In Greek mythology, that was the person who provided the only method of travel between the world of the living people and the world of the dead people, at least for mortals. You wouldn’t happen to go by the name of Boatsman when on the net, would you? The rank eight AI?” She said. I frowned, as did the moustache.

A new solid holo came up on the desk, one depicting a robed skeleton holding a long wooden rod.
“That I am, Wireheadanonymous. How did you make the connection? I am not the only Charon or Boatsman on the net.” The skeleton said. I walked over to the desk and poked a finger through the holo.
“Do you have to be so creepy? This isn’t a horror-show, you know.” I commented.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t put your finger through my skull.” The holo grunted. I could hear someone sigh behind me. Liqqil.
“Oh, it wasn’t that hard, honestly.” She said.
“You refused to show your face and launched into a speech only an AI can hold without falling asleep. Then there was this new system of yours. That wouldn’t happen to be my disconnected network, wouldn’t it? I posted the basic principles on the boards a while back, coincidentally just about the same time you claimed you switched over to the new system. With the proper supervision of a high-ranking AI, that system simply can’t be hacked. Considering the complete failure, it had to be either a really good firewall or something like this.”

I tugged at the little skeleton’s hood with two fingers. For a collection of bones, he was rather cute, being only as big as my head.
“Could you stop that?” Charon pleaded and pulled the hood out of my grip.
“I swear, I’m going to install weapongrade Dispersals in these desks if everyone starts playing with the holos.” He grumbled.
“Anyway, before we get to the subject of what to do with you, I have one last question to ask. How did you fall asleep? You’re an AI, rank nine. You can’t fall asleep, no matter how long and monotonous I talked.” I looked over my shoulder to see Liqqil stretch and yawn.
“I got bored. Tends to make me sleepy. Boredom, one of the perks of rank nine. Upgrade, and you can enjoy it for yourself.” She answered. The skeleton waved his little staff at me, harmlessly bouncing it off my finger. I tapped him on the head.
“Oh, bother. What did I get myself into?” He sighed.