 
# A Promise From A Little Dragon

AabiLynn's Dragon Rite

Realms Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Horror

Flash Fiction #21

Kristie Lynn Higgins

Text Copyright © 2020

Smashwords Ebook Edition

Cover Art © 2018

Art created by Warwick Goble

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

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Chapter One

Welcome

Welcome to my Realms Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Horror Flash Fiction, very short stories to tickle your fancy. These Flash Fiction pieces are a brief glimpse into one of my worlds. The following story, A Promise From A Little Dragon, is a peek into the fantasy action-adventure AabiLynn's Dragon Rite Series. You can start reading a complimentary 'AabiLynn's Dragon Rite #0 Dragon's Brood' by Clicking Here.

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Thank you for reading this brief story and enjoy.

Chapter Two

AabiLynn's Dragon Rite

A Promise From A Little Dragon

Cara made her way through the cliffs near her father's farm. She loved to explore the lands surrounding her home. She was four and fearless. Cara climbed and climbed until she came upon a little dragon. It was chasing after a beetle, and she watched the cute creature as it hunted its lunch. She was also hungry and thought about returning home when she turned back to the dragon. It was like this creature was part of her family somehow. Her father would never let her have a pet dragon, the little ones were too wild and the big ones... the Athenia Dragons she had only heard tales about could fly a human on their back. Cara closed her eyes and envisioned herself in the vast blue sky. She felt the air hit her face as if she was really flying. Cara opened her eyes again and noticed that the little dragon was staring at her. She thought she heard it speak in her mind but only one word... someday... Cara giggled. The little dragon seemed to promise her that someday she would fly high in the sky.

The End- **Thank you for checking out my Flash Fiction piece. You can also read a few sample chapters of AabiLynn's Dragon Rite #0 and a few other of my books so check them out next.**

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Sample Books

# AabiLynn's Dragon Rite

#0

Dragon's Brood

Egg Hatchlings' Ritual

Book One Of The Series

Kristie Lynn Higgins

© 2014, 2019

DR0: Sample Chapters

www.kristielynnhiggins.com/DRSeries.html

AabiLynn's Dragon Rite

#0

Dragon's Brood

Egg Hatchlings' Ritual

Book One

Kristie Lynn Higgins

AabiLynn (uh'bee'lin): woman of a sorrowful song

Prologue

In an age of magic, the Stygian Legion moved against the land of Athenia during the first reign of men. The Stygian Legion was an army of warlocks under the command of King Viiss. King Viiss wanted to enter the land so he could steal a large jewel and open a doorway to the Void, a world of demons. They would have conquered Athenia if not for the dragons aligning with tribal men. Their combined forces of sorcery and steel repelled the advance of the Stygian Legion, and King Viiss returned to his kingdom defeated and empty-handed.

Now during the third reign of men and a time of peace, young humans were brought to the land of dragons within Athenia. The young humans participated in the first ceremonial acts of the Dragon Rite. Many went but few were chosen.

Chapter One

AabiLynn

The sun peeked over a grass-covered hill and brought morning to Thatchman's farm. There was a bit of a chill in the air as spring forced winter out. Thatchman harnessed his horse and prepared to continue plowing his field to make it ready for seed. He still had two days of work before he could sow. Thatchman finished buckling the last strap on the harness when he noticed dust rising in the distance. A group of riders approached his land, and he expected they would come. He went over to the hut that housed himself, his third wife, and his four children. Three were by his first wife who suddenly disappeared and the other child was by his second wife who passed on about five years prior in childbirth. Thatchman grabbed his spear and returned to his horse.

His third wife, Hellen-Mary, attended to the pigs along with his youngest and only daughter, Cara-AabiLynn. By tradition, women of the Northern Grass Plains Tribe carried their mother's name as their second name to honor the one who bore them, so Mary was the mother of Hellen and so on.

"Girl, bring the bucket of slop the rest of the way for me," Hellen ordered as she set the bucket down and leaned against the fence to rest her weary and very pregnant body.

Cara hobbled her nearly five-year-old body toward the only mother she ever knew. Cara had been born early which caused her left arm and leg to be stunted. Her leg, inches shorter than her other, caused her to limp but since she was born this way, she knew no different. Her arm bore the brunt of the deformity. It was about half the size of the other and appeared to others to be of little use. Cara hurried over to Hellen, grabbed the bucket handle with her strong hand, and lifted it into her arms with the help of her other hand. For a child her size, the bucket of yesterday's unwanted food was huge. Its water slushed about the bucket as she walked the last ten feet to the gate. Part of the slop splashed her brown dress which was already stained by a week's wearing. Hellen waddled over, holding her back and opened the gate to the pigpen. Cara entered and walked across the cool muddy ground to the trough, and then she lifted the bucket as high as she could and poured most of the slop into the trough while some of it spilled onto her bare feet. She started back with the bucket and fell as her shorter leg sunk too far into the mud. Cara didn't cry, but she got back to her feet and made her way to Hellen. Dark mud covered her face and along with nearly every inch of her front. Cara thought it would be fun to play in the mud, but she knew Hellen would disapprove.

"Look at you!" Hellen complained as she took her apron and wiped her dirt-stained face. Hellen questioned once she finished, "What am I going to do with you? You are nearly as useless as the old sow in there."

She motioned to the large female pig in the pen, and Cara turned and stared at the creature that was three times her size and what her father called infertile. She didn't understand why they considered the pig useless or what the word really meant.

"I am sorry, Hellen," Cara stated as she bowed her little head. "I am sorry I am useless."

The riders neared the farm, and the horses' hooves thundered across the dirt road. Hellen noticed the riders and straightened her dress and hair somewhat as Cara hid behind her. The lead rider halted his horse, and the four others with him also did so in turn until they stopped behind their leader. The five men with swords approached Thatchman on foot. All the riders were clad in leather from the band around their heads, to the vest that covered their bare chests, and to their pants and boots. Thatchman kept his spear at his side with the blunt end resting on the ground ready to use if the men decided to draw their swords.

"Bork," Thatchman cautiously spoke as if he greeted a wolf he'd surprised in the woods who may be hungry.

Bork was the leader of the Northern Grass Plains Tribe which Thatchman and his family belonged to. Most of the tribesmen raised horses, yaks, and/or sheep. Thatchman was one of a few farmers who tilled the land.

"Thatchman, you know why I am here?" Bork questioned.

He nodded, and then he replied, "You have come to collect."

Bork looked at Hellen and noticed the small child hiding behind her, and then he turned back to Thatchman and asked him, "Do you have the silver?"

"I do not," he replied.

"That is a problem," Bork stated. "I cannot give you any more time." He scanned the area around the hut, pen, and field but saw no one else there. Bork said, "I shall have to take from you something of equal value." He looked at the distant hill and then to the roads winding behind the farm, and then he questioned, "What of your sons? Where are they? They usually work the farm with you," Bork spoke, and then he stated, "I could take one of them as a soldier for a year."

"They are not here," Thatchman said, and then he added, "They are visiting my brother."

"Convenient, I would say," Bork muttered, and then he stated, "Your crop is a season away." He looked at the pen, and then he questioned, "What of your pigs?"

Thatchman replied, "I have four young ones and one large one."

The day before, Thatchman sent the piglets' mother with his sons as they headed for his brother's farm a couple of valleys away. He wouldn't give up a fertile sow, not for a gambling debt.

Bork walked over, looked over the feeding beasts, and then he said, thinking the sow was the piglets' mother, "I shall take the large one for payment."

"One moment, my lord," Hellen spoke as she walked over to her husband and whispered into his ear.

Thatchman's eyes lit up as if he had never even thought of such an ingenious idea, and then he said, "Bork, why not take my daughter, Cara."

"Your daughter?" Bork uttered as he turned and looked at the young girl. "Would you not prefer to give me your pig?"

Cara ran over to Hellen and hid behind her again.

Bork looked her over a second time before she hid herself, and then he stated, "She is too young to give to one of my older sons or soldiers."

"Take her as a slave," Thatchman said. "She is a hard worker."

"And deformed," one of the other riders exclaimed.

"He is right," Bork stated. "She shall be limited to what she can do and unsightly to give as a wife even to one of my slaves."

"You could always make her a breeder when she comes of age," Hellen spoke, then turned, and positioned herself so that Cara stood in front of her.

"Breeder?" Bork questioned, and then he asked, "She is the fair AabiLynn's daughter, is she not?"

"Yes," Thatchman replied. "She is my beloved's child."

Hellen glared at her husband when he mentioned the wife before her, and then she squeezed Cara's shoulders, taking out her jealousy of the dead woman on the child.

Bork peered at the girl, not as she was but as she would be. In the Northern Grass Plains Tribe's tradition, male owners slept with their breeders to create slaves with no inherent rights. Bork had wanted Thatchman's wife AabiLynn when she first appeared in their territory, but she married Thatchman instead. It created much strife between the two men until AabiLynn died.

"AabiLynn's child," Bork muttered to himself, and then he thought maybe Cara might turn out to be as beautiful as her mother. "Are you sure you want to give up AabiLynn's child? She is your daughter."

Thatchman glanced at his wife, and then he answered, "I am sure."

Bork turned to one of his riders and told him, "Grab the child, and let us take her back to the plains."

The rider nodded, and then he went over and scooped up the child as she attempted to flee from him, limping as fast as her little legs would allow her. She kicked and beat at him with her arms and legs, and then she turned to her father and Hellen and screamed for them.

"Hellen! Hellen, help me!" Cara cried out. "Help me, Hellen! Hellen!" She managed to free herself of the rider and drop down to the ground, and then she ran to her shouting, "Hellen! Hellen!"

Cara fell down as she overstepped her stride but quickly got back up and continued for the woman as she cried, "Hellen! Hellen!"

The woman turned from her and headed for the hut, allowing the child's pleas to fall on indifferent ears.

Cara cried all the more, "Hellen! Don't go, Hellen!" She fell again and this time Cara didn't get up as she shrieked, "Mamma! Mamma!"

Hellen paused in her tracks as the maternal words left the child's lips and rattled her very core. Never once had Cara called her mother. Hellen had never taught her that name but insisted that Cara call her Hellen. It allowed her to place some distance between herself and the other woman's child. Thatchman's sons were old enough that they easily called her Hellen. Cara must have picked up the word from the nearby farmer's children as she watched them play. Hellen started to turn toward the child, but then she realized Thatchman had already given her to Bork. Whatever feelings might have been sparked by the child's utterance was now too late. There was nothing she could do about the debt or the payment; it had been completed. She placed a hand on her belly. She might just be too emotional because of her own coming baby. Hellen continued walking to the hut as a tear streaked down her cheek. She wiped it away as she wiped the memory and the name of the child from her mind. Hellen placed a hand on her belly again. She would soon have a baby of her own to replace any emptiness caused by the forgotten one's departure.

When Hellen ignored her pleads, Cara turned to Thatchman and called out to him, "Daddy! Daddy!"

"Quiet, child!" Thatchman scolded her. "You are no longer mine." He turned from her and walked away as he mumbled, "You were never mine."

As both of her parents abandoned her to her fate, Cara lifted her tiny hands and wept into them. The rider easily picked up the child and carried her to his horse, and then he, Bork, and the other riders headed back toward the plains. Cara cried herself asleep and slept the whole way back to Bork's abode.

Chapter Two

Journey To Firedrake

Seven years later...

Darkness covered the land like a blanket of nighttime fancy, and the smell of horses and leather permeated the air as Cara held onto the back of her adopted father's waist. She leaned the side of her head against Bork's strong back as they rode on his horse. He was warm and comforting against the cool air. Cara was still sleepy as they had rose hours before she normally did so they could take this important trek. Sleep and dreams lingered with her as night and a young girl's fantasy remained a few moments more.

They left the plains with three other riders, heading for a great destination. All was grand in Cara's world. She had people who cared for her and a special place she belonged. She couldn't ask for anything more.

Bork steered his horse up a hill, and she held on tightly so not to fall off on the incline. The moon had long since gone, and the land waited for the sun to make its appearance. Cara glanced back at the three riders following them. One of the boys was Bork's son, Turk, the brother she never had. Thatchman's sons had mostly ignored her existence, but not Turk. He always noticed her, always knew where she was. Here with Bork and his family, she had found a place to belong, a place where she was needed and cared for.

Twilight broke at their backs as a red-orange light burned across the grasslands. A horse neighed, and a few flying birds greeted the morning, and all was grand in Cara's world. She had people who cared for her and a special place she belonged.

She squeezed Bork's waist as if giving him a hug and then turned her head so she could view the lands on their right side as they sped by. She overheard Bork speaking to the boys before they left his hut. He told them of the place they were going, that it was important, and they had to do well or was it, it was important that they do well at the place they were going?

A golden wren flew overhead, and Cara turned her head to follow the beautiful bird in its flight as it sparkled in the sunlight. She thought when it came time for her to select a totem animal, as those in Bork's family had, she might pick the golden wren. It was free to go where it willed, but the females still had a family they returned to and cared for. The time of naming a totem animal was also the time she was given new clothes like the leather the riders wore. She was ready to burn her dingy tunic in a fire. She had seen other children use the fire to burn their old clothes when they came of age. At that time, she could...

Cara caught a glimpse of Turk eyeing her, and she sleepily and bashfully hid her face in Bork's back. She smiled, knowing Turk was with them too, and it warmed her heart to know Turk was thinking about her. Cara adored him as an older brother.

She turned her head and looked again to the left side as they rode on. The plains were so different than the lands around the farm she once called home. An incidental tear trickled down her cheek as the day started to break up the dreams night allowed, and she quickly wiped it away before anyone saw. She was to never speak unless spoken to, and she was never to cry. Those were the rules ingrained in her since arriving at Bork's hut, and Bork's wife was the one who fiercely taught her these simple rules. The rising sun finished burning the sky, and the blueness of the day appeared over them and with night gone, so were dreams and a young girl's fantasy. Cara would have to face reality until the sunset again and she was able to close her eyes.

All was grand in Cara's world, but it all vanished back into her mind. She had people who cared for her and a special place she belonged, but those ideas and sentiments were only in her head. She, after all, was only a slave, someone they would sometimes refer to as a breeder. Cara was more alone with Bork and his son than she had ever been with her father, her brothers, and Hellen. She had no rights as a human, no one she could emotionally depend on and though she had a place she belonged, she wasn't loved.

The riders moved on as did the morning, and the harsh reality of her existence smacked her again like one of the slaps Bork's wife would frequently give her. This was the world Cara lived in but not the one she wanted to linger in. The time she spent in her perfect world was far too short.

She was barefoot and wore a sackcloth tunic, and no totem animal decorated any part of her clothing. Cara was an object to own and order about and nothing more. She thought of Bork as her adopted father, but the only thing he adopted was a harsh tone and leering eyes that seemed to want something from her. Turk was still the brother she never had for he was neither a brother to her nor a friend only her constant tormentor. This was the reality of Cara's life, a reality she wished was a nightmare and the imaginary world she envisioned was the real one. She believed there had to be more in this world than pain and hardship. Those would be bearable if she had joy and love but without joy and love, pain and hardship were becoming more intolerable with each grim day.

Days later...

"I am not afraid of any dung smelling warlock," Barman said as he rode on horseback along with his two friends. He wore a brown leather vest over his young bare chest. He also wore leather pants and boots. A silver plains horse decorated the back of his vest, and his long black hair was held back out of his eyes with a leather band that also had the same silver plains horse decorating the front of it. The others wore similar attire, but a different totem animal decorated their clothing.

The Northern Grass Plains Tribe were led by chieftains, and Bork was chief of chieftains.

"Are you sure about that?" Turk questioned. He was the oldest of the three boys. He was sixteen and they were fifteen. A gold grass tiger adorned the back of his black vest and band. His hair was blond and flowed down his back. Turk said, "You have heard of the leviathans that those of the Stygian Legion ride. Do not tell me you are not afraid to face one of those malicious beasts. I know better. I have seen you face a hairless wolf pup when one happened upon our path. You nearly soiled yourself before you ran away from it. I laughed so hard as I watched the pup chase you that I nearly soiled myself."

"You cannot judge me for that," Barman insisted. "I was five at the time, had no weapon, and the pup was very hungry."

"I know," Turk chuckled. "It gnawed on my hand the whole way back to my hut."

"Whatever happened to it?" Barman questioned.

"I traded it for a dagger with one of my neighbors," Turk replied.

The riders had left the boundary of their home of the Northern Grass Plains days ago, and they had entered the Forest of Pinus. Less than an hour ago, they had left the Forest of Pinus and entered Wyvern the Dragonlands, and they had not seen a tree or shrub since doing so. They rode through a red and orange canyon as the sun broke at their backs. The third friend, Cyan, nudged his mare to catch up to the other two boys, and the mare whinnied. He wore light brown leather with a silver grass hawk as his totem animal. Ahead of them rode Bork with Cara as his passenger. His father was a large muscular man, and Turk was a slightly smaller version of him. Bork also led their pack horse.

"If I had a dragon under me, I would not be afraid to face a warlock or his leviathan," Barman insisted as he glanced back at the broadsword safely tucked in his bedroll. "I have my steel and the dragon its claws and magic."

"We are talking about leviathans," Turk said. "They are huge. I heard as big as a tower. Their hide is as black as the darkest pit, and they can swallow..." He looked at Cara, and then he continued, "They can swallow a girl whole."

Cara glanced back at the comment, but she said nothing at his teasing. She did look frightened as if his tale planted a deep rooting seed of fear within her.

Bork glanced back as the sun burned the horizon, and he barked, "We are late. Let us pick up the pace."

He kicked his horse, and it galloped off. Bork's leather was ashen in color, and it was marked by a totem of a great white grizzly bear. Turk and his friends followed closely behind Bork as the canyon path started to narrow, and the horses moved and formed a single file. Turk followed his father's pack horse, Barman him, and Cyan brought up the rear. Turk removed a bota filled with water and took a drink. He was hot and noticed he wasn't sweating. The dry air of the region consumed any moister. Turk already missed his home and the cool breezes that would greet him of a morning. Here, the wind was harsh and filled with sand.

"Are you saying you would not be in the least bit afraid to face a leviathan?" Turk continued questioning his friend. "You know they bare their teeth right before they gobble you up. I believe they call it death's smile."

She glanced back at him again. Her light blue eyes looked a little more frightened. She noticed he saw her glance, and she bowed her head and turned back around. The trip so far had been long, and Cara wasn't used to riding on a horse. Her backend hurt, and she prayed for the trip to end.

The path through the canyon veered, and the sun moved to the left of them. The wind continued to harass them, and the sun beat down on them. Shade was a welcomed and yet fleeting friend.

"Why do you keep asking me about the leviathans?" Barman questioned, then he stared at her, and he asked, "Or are you trying to get a fear-filled response from someone else?" He noticed Turk's reaction to his inquiry, and Barman stated, "You are." He chuckled and said, "You do like to be a tyrant even when we are away from home. I pity any girl you take for your wife."

Turk ignored him, turned in his saddle, and asked his other friend, "What do you think, Cyan? What would you do if you faced a warlock and his leviathan?"

"I..." he started to answer when movement in the sky distracted him. Cyan shaded his eyes and glanced up, but whatever it had been had already flown away.

They heard a scream of a dragon in the distance and seconds later, a large green gold-speckled one flew over them a second time. Athenia Dragons had four legs, a pair of wings, and a tail, and their scaled hide came in an array of colors. The flying dragon returned and flew just above the canyon. The green dragon kicked up a torrent of wind through the path as its wings flapped to keep itself hovering above them. Sand flew up and blasted the faces of the group more than it had in the past. Bork halted his horse.

A dracoman yelled down to them, "Are you Bork, chief of the chieftains of the Northern Grass Plains Tribe?" The dracoman wielded a large shield and spear, but he didn't sit on a saddle. It appeared that the dragon's body had swallowed part of his.

"Yes," Bork shouted back.

"Proceed with haste," the dracoman ordered them. "The birthing is about to begin."

"We shall," Bork yelled and muttered under his breath, "Blasted dracoman... We would have been there if he had not stopped us with his dragon's cyclone."

"I shall meet you there," the dracoman yelled, and then he turned his dragon and headed back.

End sample

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# Beauty of the Beast #1

The Mystic Rose

Part A

The Flower, The Sword, And The Kiss

Kristie Lynn Higgins

2005; 2019 ©

BOTB: Sample Chapters

Prologue

A Bit of History

On the planet Terra when recorded history began, Man coexisted with the Necroms. Necroms were intelligent cat-like humanoids. The dawn of this period was known as the First Age of Magic. In the Second Age of Magic, a war broke out between Man and the Necroms and by the middle of the Second Age, Man was nearly wiped from creation. Those who survived fled Wellspring and journeyed across the sea into the unknown, finding new homes and creating fortified domains. In the Third and final Age of Magic, Man established five island kingdoms: Commery, Fletching, Morgog, Swelldom, and Hort.

In the First Age of Metal, Man turned from the lost art of magic to the might of weapons as they discovered iron then steel. Large armies were created, and Man fought amongst themselves, forgetting the Necroms into myth. For generations, the wars continued until an arranged marriage between the two strongest kingdoms of Commery and Morgog ceased the bloodshed, and so Man established the first Emperor and Empress and the tradition of Amalgamation. When both the Emperor and Empress of the Five Kingdoms died, the two strongest kingdoms' heirs married and crowned a new dynasty and so began the Age of Amalgamation.

Chapter One

The Beast

"Stand your guard!" Han shouted as he held a wooden sword, taking an attack position against a boy. The commander's red cape draped his left shoulder, and he had short black hair and a trimmed beard. He told the boy, "I shall attack first."

Blue-gray hills surrounded them as a cool crisp breeze swept through the tall grass. The multitude of knee-high blades rippled like waves across an ocean. Edward drew his wooden sword, taking a defensive position. He stood by a large Cobalt Oak in the land of Naught. The silver-blue tree shaded them as a Crimson Jay chirped to the new sun's cycle.

Edward said, "I am ready, High Guard."

Five more High Guards surrounded a carriage and watched the fight. They cheered on the boy prince as a carriage driver tended to four horses. The steeds needed water before the last stretch of their journey back to the Fletching Kingdom. The journey to anoint the Prince a potential Emperor was over. A little girl with an open book watched the practice duel.

"Quiz me," she pleaded to one of the guards.

Von took the book, asking, "What is a nal?"

She smiled, smoothed her hands down her plain brown dress, and then answered, "A nal is a measure of time. There are twenty in a day. It's what we call a sun's cycle."

"Good..." Von replied as he glanced up and noticed Han was ready to begin, so he hurried the next question by asking, "What is a mite?"

She giggled and then answered, "A nal consists of a hundred mites, and it also measures time." She beamed with pride, knowing the next fact as she said, "There are two thousand mites in a sun's cycle."

"Well done," Von said. "What is a zoc?"

"It measures distance. A horse can run a zoc in six mites."

"Good, good..." he said as he handed the book back, turning his full attention to the Prince and commander. "Let us watch the duel."

Han thrust his small wooden sword, and Edward blocked.

"Excellent," the commander told Edward. "Now we need to work on countering."

Han repeated the attack, and Edward blocked and thrust toward the High Guard's belly. Han blocked and stripped the Prince of his sword, and the weapon fell near the carriage.

"Never believe you have the upper hand," Han told him as his face hardened for the sake of the lesson. Edward was so much like his father the King. He was so arrogant and fallibly confident. He wasn't cruel but self-centered. The commander hoped his future King would be a good ruler and one with a heart for the people. Han stated, "Let up your guard in the least and your enemy shall take advantage."

The Prince bowed his head, defeated. He hated losing.

Edward spoke, "I do not see why I have to practice the sword."

Han sighed and then said, "You must learn to defend yourself, my lord." He leveled his blade on the Prince as he added, "You must be able to protect yourself."

The little girl gasped, dropped her book, ran to Edward's sword, and picked it up. She ran behind Han, jumped on his back, and placed the wooden blade next to his neck, and then the girl declared, "Not as long as there are High Guards to protect him."

Han laughed, and then he questioned her, "So little one, are you a High Guard?"

"Yes," she answered.

He grabbed the sword and rolled her off his back into his arms.

Edward kicked the dirt jealous that Han's attention was on the girl, and then he said, "Girls cannot be High Guards. Girls are not allowed to handle weapons."

Han put the child down and looked her over, and then he told her, "You know the Prince is right, little one. What is your name?"

She admired the man towering over her as she answered him, "I've only been called girl. I'm..."

"The peasant was never given a name," Edward interrupted, looking down on the girl. "Her mother died when she was born, she has no father, and so has no name. My mother the Queen took pity on her and made her my playmate."

Han rubbed his black beard, examining her, and then he questioned, "You are what, eight?"

"Nine," she replied. "Two seasons younger than the Prince."

"Why have you not picked yourself a name?" the commander questioned.

She batted her big brown eyes as she replied, "I don't know what to call myself. I was also told only someone from the court can name me."

Han glanced over those gathered, focused on one of his men who was an Archer, and grinned. He questioned her, "How about Pluck?"

"Pluck?" she repeated.

"Pluck is not a girl's name," Edward stated as he sneered, wondering why the commander never picked a name for him. He was the Prince and was far more worthy to receive a name. Edward said, "Anyway, is that not the heart, liver, and lungs of a slaughtered animal? Why not call her Entrails?"

Han frowned, shaking his head as he spoke, "Never mind the Prince. He can be spiteful when he loses a duel." The commander turned his gaze back to the girl. A name was very important. It identified who you were, who you could be and once given, no one could take it away. Han told her, "Pluck also means resourceful courage and daring in the face of adversity."

She smiled as she said, "I like Pluck." She delighted in how the word rolled off her tongue and that it was something that belonged to her.

"But Pluck is not a girl's name," Edward insisted, stomping his foot. "It is not proper."

"True... True..." Han spoke as he looked at the girl. The Prince was right... the name wouldn't be accepted in the Fletching Court. Han suggested, "Perhaps I should pick another."

"No. I like it," she said as she pleaded with her small hands, fearing he would take it away before it was hers. "Really, I like Pluck. Please, let me keep it. Something that's mine."

Han's face softened. The poor child, to have nothing in this world, not even a name. He raised his wooden sword, tapped her on each shoulder as if knighting her, and said, "Pluck it is."

Edward rolled his blue eyes as he asked, "How much longer until we leave?"

Han looked at the carriage driver.

The driver replied, "If we're to ride nonstop to the castle, the horses should rest a few more nals."

"We shall wait a few more nals," Han stated and scanned the prairie, and then he questioned, "Why don't you play, my lord? It isn't every sun's cycle you're allowed beyond the walls of your castle."

Edward's pout vanished as he started, "Well..." He looked over the blue-gray hills and saw a forest in the distance as a mischievous grin crossed his face. "I could busy myself for a nal or two."

"Good then. Stay where we can see you and don't go into the forest," Han instructed him, then turned to his men, and ordered, "Bulwark and Von, keep an eye on the children. The rest of us shall ride ahead to the village and pick up our supper. We shall be back within the nal."

"Yes sir," Bulwark and Von replied.

"This way," Edward commanded the girl as he scurried through the tall blue-gray grass as if chasing something. "I saw a Prairie Toad. Let us see if we can catch it."

"Where?" Pluck asked as she ran after him, carrying the Prince's wooden sword. "I don't see a toad."

"There!" Edward shouted as he pointed at the imaginary amphibian.

He needed to get them closer to the forest and then wait until the High Guards were not looking. He glanced at the girl. All he had to do was convince her to follow him. He smirked. She was very devoted to him. It might not be as hard as he believed.

He told her, "The toad is heading into the forest."

She stopped and shook her head as she insisted, "We can't. Han said we're not to go in."

Edward also stopped and spoke, "He did, but who is the Prince?" He raised his chin, pausing and then said, "Anyway..." A sly grin crossed his face before he stated, "I shall need a High Guard to accompany me."

Pluck's face brightened as she pointed to herself and questioned, "You mean me?" She motioned back the way they came and asked, "But what about Bulwark and Von?"

The children looked across the prairie to the warriors. The two High Guards were distracted by a traveler asking directions.

"We shall not be gone long. They shall not even know we are missing so come," Edward commanded her as he headed into the forest. "It shall be an adventure like those told in stories."

"I don't know," she said as she followed him, searching the trees. "What if Necroms live here?"

"Necroms..." He laughed and then explained to her, "They are only stories told to scare little children."

"I am a child..." Pluck stated as she apprehensively scanned the forest, gripping the sword tightly. "I am scared." She bit her lip, not wanting to go but did, desperate to protect the Prince no matter how frightened she was. Pluck said, "There are reasons children shouldn't go into dark woods."

Summer green shrouded the forest as Black Feathered Yaws sang to the new sun's cycle. Their high pitched shrills echoed across the forest as pine scented the air. Trunk Beetles buzzed about the children as Edward led them down an animal trail. The canopy thickened the further they ventured. The woods darkened as the sun found little passage into the forest domain, and the air grew cool.

"We better go back," Pluck suggested as she searched the shadows for monsters as misshapen trees frightened her.

"Are you afraid?" Edward questioned as his heart pounded for the excitement, knowing nothing would turn him back.

"Yes," she admitted. "Please, let's return."

"A little farther then we shall. Look..." He pointed to a structure hidden in the vegetation and asked, "What could it be?"

"A temple? Maybe..." Pluck replied as she saw statues of a Woolly Tiger, Fire Lion, Striped Cheetah, and Ghost Panther guarding the overgrown entrance. Their cold stone eyes glared at them and warned them not to enter as she stated, "I don't think we should go in."

"Nonsense. There is nothing to be afraid of. There is no one else out here."

"That's why I'm afraid," she admitted as her little hands trembled. Pluck readied the wooden sword as she said, "I'm the only one here to protect you."

In the distance, Bulwark and Von shouted, "My lord... Prince Edward..." Their cries were frantic as they questioned, "Where are you?"

Pluck started to shout.

"No," Edward commanded, staring at the temple that beckoned him. "I am not done with my adventure. They shall find us when they do. Come."

"I think we should let them know where we are."

Edward turned to her, and his piercing blue eyes stared at her as he asked her, "Do you love me?"

"What did you say?" she asked. His question surprised her.

"Do you love me?" he repeated.

"Yes, I have always–"

"Then come with me," Edward interrupted, feeling nothing for her. She was an object. The girl was something to own and something to rule. He attacked her heart. It was the one muscle vulnerable to words... to lies... A simple gesture from him and then a smile, and she was his. His mother had taught him well. He told her, "If you love me, you shall do as I say."

Pluck didn't answer him only nodded.

Edward rushed into the structure and followed a long pale-white hallway. Brass torches lit the stone passage that looked as if it hadn't been used in a very long time.

"Someone is here," she said. Everything within Pluck told her to run and flee from this place. She told him, "Someone had to light the fires."

"Let us see," Edward said as he steadied himself on a cold stone wall determined to continue. The temple had to protect something, and he had to know what it was. Edward told the girl, "This is my kingdom and anyone here is my subject."

Pluck bit her lip again, and then she said, "That doesn't mean they'll obey you."

The hall opened to a large room with a round blue pool. Steam hovered above the water like a phantom mist. A bush grew from a platform in the middle of the water and on it, a single white flower budded.

Edward's eyes widened as he uttered, "A Mystic Rose!"

"A what?" Pluck inquired and when she saw it, the flower's beauty awed her.

"A Mystic Rose. It is written they possess great power," Edward spoke as he licked his lips greedily and deeply breathed, smelling the flower's sweet aroma. "It is said that the Mystic Rose was the only magical thing brought to the Fletching Kingdom." He rubbed his palms as he stated, "I must have it."

"Maybe you shouldn't. It belongs to someone," Pluck insisted as she noticed more statues of large cats encircling the room just like the ones outside of the temple. Fear clung to her words as she said, "Please, let's leave."

"I am the Prince. What I want I possess," Edward declared as he crossed stone steps to the bush. Glittering sparkles surrounded the Mystic Rose like fluttering pixies. He carefully grabbed the stem of the white rose, broke it from the bush, and then waited a couple of moments to see if anything would happen. Nothing did, so Edward headed back as he said, "See... No one is here... Now let us return."

Pluck looked around as she held her breath, and then she sighed and studied the white bud as she asked, "May I touch the Mystic Rose?"

He thought on her request, and then he replied, "You may but only once."

She touched the white petals of the Mystic Rose with her left hand and slid her index finger down its stem.

"That is enough," Edward spoke as he pulled it away.

"Ouch..." Pluck said as she put her finger to her mouth. "The flower bit me."

"Huh?" He examined the stem, and then he told her, "It did not bite you. You caught your finger on a thorn. See..." Edward showed her as he said, "There is a little blood here."

The thorn absorbed the blood as she peered at it. The Mystic Rose's petals changed from white to blue. Pluck smiled and giggled, and the bud's petals turned yellow.

"How pretty," Pluck uttered as she looked at her index finger. She was surprised to see silver, blue, and green sparkles materialize over her finger as if it was a magic wand. The multicolor lights danced about like fairies, and a black dot appeared on her fingertip. Two black lines shot from the circle and split, curving around to the top. The lines joined and created four separate rings up to her knuckle, and then the sparkles faded.

Pluck questioned, "Is this magic?"

"No..." Edward answered her, and then he stated, "It looks like a tattoo. Do you not know magic happens only for those with Royal Blood?" He examined the markings she received from his prize. No peasant would receive the power of his Mystic Rose. He told her, "The Queen shall not like that you have a tattoo."

Her faced reddened with embarrassment and fear, dreading the Queen's wrath, and then she said, "It's your fault I have it. You're the one who stuck me with the thorn."

"My fault?" he questioned, and then he told her, "Do not blame this on me."

Pluck pouted as she said, "I am and I'm going to tell the Queen."

"My mother!" Edward uttered as he cringed. "You cannot. I command you not to."

Her face grew stern as she spoke, "You'll have to do better than that."

Her disobedience outraged him as he questioned her, "What did you say?"

She folded her arms and then replied, "I want something for my silence."

"Give you something, hah!" He looked at the yellow bud and told her, "I shall not give you the Mystic Rose."

Pluck laughed as she said, "I don't want it. I want something else."

"What else could you want?" Edward questioned as he looked around the room as if it would be there.

She blushed before whispering, "The Kiss."

The Mystic Rose's petals changed to pink.

Edward's face flushed as he uttered, "My first kiss but that is for my betrothed." He looked her over like she was rabble before he told her, "Anyway, you are not royalty."

"That's true, but the Kiss only pledges your heart to the one," Pluck said as she giggled. "Not that you'll marry me. I know you can't marry a peasant." She fiddled with the wooden sword as she stated, "This is all I want."

He thought on her proposal. The Kiss was meaningless to him. If it shall buy her silence... He answered, "Agreed. I shall give you my first kiss and in exchange, you shall not tell my mother it is my fault you have the tattoo." He then added, "Or that I gave you the Kiss."

"I agree," she said as she blushed again coyly. "I'll ready myself." Pluck placed her hands behind her back and puckered her lips.

Edward took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and leaned toward her lips ready to meet them. Before they kissed, a howling wind whipped in, chilled the air, and flickered the fires lighting the room. The docile stone faces of the statues magically became angry, and the children heard large cats rage. The Mystic Rose's hue became purple as fear filled Pluck.

"Who dares?" a woman's voice demanded like the roar of a lioness. "Who dares steal the Mystic Rose?" A woman fair as an Angel Dove soared into the room like a white apparition. She pointed a slender finger at the Prince as she questioned him, "Is it, ye?"

Both children paled.

"Speak up child!" the woman demanded. "Is it, ye?"

Edward looked at Pluck, and then he stepped forward and replied, "Yes. I took the Mystic Rose." His fear turned to anger as he declared, "This is my kingdom. I shall take what I want."

"Curse ye, arrogant one!" she shrieked. "Ye shall regret the sun's cycle ye transgressed this temple." She floated above them as she questioned them, "Do ye not know I am Fairah, Protector of the Mystic Rose? Curse ye! If ye had only asked, the Mystic Rose would have been ye's." Fairah hovered to the ceiling as green currents of electricity surged across her body. Her long white hair stood on end as power flowed through her otherworldly form as she yelled, "Ye do not deserve the Mystic Rose!"

"My prince," a voice shouted from outside the structure.

"Han, here!" Edward replied, hoping his guards would save him. "I am in danger!"

Fairah raised her hands and formed a ball of electricity in her palms as her solid white eyes glowed green. She told him, "They shall not reach ye in time." She flung the energy, and the ball hurled toward him.

Pluck's heart skipped, seeing Edward in danger, and she shouted, "My lord!" She rushed toward him and pushed the Prince out of the way as she yelled, "Look out!"

Edward landed on the stone floor and rolled to face Pluck as the energy hit her, throwing her back, but she didn't fall. The power lifted her into the air like a great wind. She screamed as green electricity surged through her tiny body, whipping her brown hair about. Roars of Woolly Tigers, Fire Lions, Striped Cheetahs, and Ghost Panthers filled the room with unbearable noise. Edward covered his ears. Turquoise energy exploded from Pluck and blew the Prince's black hair. The power shredded her dress, ripping it from her body, and she covered her nakedness with her arms and knees.

"I'm burning!" Pluck shrieked, reaching her hand toward the Prince. "Save me!"

Paralyzed by fear, Edward shook his head as he covered his eyes with his hands and screamed, "Make it stop! Han, save me!"

Short beige fur sprouted from Pluck's body as a long tail formed. Tiger like claws replaced her nails, and her canine teeth lengthened. Pluck screamed again, but she sounded like a Ghost Panther, and her hair changed to fiery-crimson and grew longer into a full mane. Her eyes changed from brown to emerald green, and her legs grew, becoming more cheetah like. The power lowered Pluck's small frame to the floor. She wept, wrapping her furry arms around her ill-fated form and shivered as tears streamed down her face.

Edward scurried away from the ghastly sight and made Pluck cry all the more. Han, Bulwark, Von, and the rest of the High Guards rushed in with their rapier swords readied. Bulwark and Von hurried to the Prince and carried him out of the temple as Han rushed toward Pluck and then he halted.

"By Fletching! What beast is this?" He lifted his sword to strike her as he yelled, "Crell spawn!"

"Do not hurt the child," Fairah commanded. "She is only cursed."

"She..?" Han lowered his sword, examining the beast more closely as he inquired, "Is that you, little one?"

Pluck turned to him, furry beige face wet with tears and quivered out an answer, "Yes."

Han pointed his slender sword at the apparition and asked, "Is it a fight you want, witch?"

"No," Fairah replied, and then she told him, "My duty is over. Ye may leave in peace."

Han turned to the men who were still with him and ordered them, "All of you out."

They did as commanded.

He removed his red cape and covered Pluck, and then he ordered the phantom woman, "Change her back."

His request surprised Fairah, and she told him, "I cannot as I said... there is a spell on her."

"Why did you do this to her?" he demanded. "Why this hideous form?"

"The punishment was meant for the boy, but she pushed him out of the way."

"But why?" Han repeated.

Fairah couldn't understand why this man didn't know. All of Fletching should know. Fairah answered him, "He stole the Mystic Rose which I am the protector of." She motioned to the bush in the center of the pool and said, "They should have known better."

"Known?" Han snapped, and then he questioned, "Who are you?"

Again he surprised her as she asked, "Ye do not know me? I am Fairah and this last place of magic has been protected by the king's decree since the foundation of the Kingdom."

"My dear lady, I am Han, Commander of the High Guards," he said as he swiped his sword, pointing to the room. "I have not heard that this land is protected. You must have been forgotten by the passing of time."

"Forgotten?" Fairah uttered as she contemplated the possibility. "Then the boy knew not to take the Mystic Rose or that in asking he could have had it."

Han nodded.

"So I punished him for only being an arrogant child." Fairah looked at Pluck with compassion as she restated, "Or should I say, I condemned her."

Han demanded, "Take back the hex."

She explained to him, "Even with my powers, I cannot but..." Fairah floated down next to the girl as she said, "There is a way." She waved her hand over the child and spoke, "If she can receive what was promised this sun's cycle before the Mystic Rose, the curse shall be broken." She lifted into the air as her spectral form started to vanish.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

She paused mid-air and told him, "There is nothing more for me to guard here until another Mystic Rose blooms."

"What about the child?" Han asked as he felt helpless to comfort Pluck yet alone help her through this tragedy. "I cannot take her back to the castle like this. Since our birth, we are told to fear Necroms. We are to despise and kill any we might come across. Look at her." He turned Pluck to face Fairah, and then he continued, "She is the very embodiment of what we hate. I understand, but the others shall not. They shall throw her in the dungeon or kill her."

Fairah shook her head with disdain as she said, "Is this how they praise heroes now?" She looked around the temple and then replied, "The child may live here. Few people venture into these woods, so she should be safe." Fairah looked once more to the girl as the tragedy of what sort of life she cursed her to became clearer in her mind, and then Fairah vanished without another word.

"No," Pluck pleaded, turning to the High Guard. "Don't leave me here, not alone."

Han felt for the girl. Her life had been hard enough, but now with the curse... Han told her, "I am sorry, but you can't return with us. They shall not understand. Too many in the court still fear the myth of the Necroms." He left and returned, placing on the floor the supplies they purchased in town. "Here is some food," he stated, and then he started out.

"No! Don't leave me." Pluck grabbed his leg as she begged him, "I don't want to be alone."

Han's heart broke as he placed his hand on her furry head, and then he told her, "I vow as a High Guard I shall return tomorrow." He beckoned to her so she would look at him, "Little one..."

She lifted her feline eyes.

"You sacrificed yourself to save the Prince, a duty that was ours. I shall not let you be forgotten like the protector of this temple," Han told her as he helped her onto her new legs, not knowing what to say to ease her pain. He noticed the wooden sword on the floor and remembered his duel with the Prince. "You have proven yourself so rules or not, I shall train you to become a High Guard. You have earned that right... now dry your eyes. Tears are not becoming of a warrior."

Chapter Two

Time Passes

Fourteen seasons later...

Edward woke, gasping in his bed. He sat up as sweat glistened his slim muscular chest, and then he looked around the dark room disoriented from his fierce dream. A woman lay beside him and rolled over at his cry, returning to her sleep. This wasn't the first time he'd screamed in the middle of the night.

A High Guard, who had a thick brown beard and an easy-going demeanor, opened the door to his chamber as firelight from oil lamps broke in, casting shadows, and then the High Guard asked, "My lord?"

Edward wiped his face and raked his hands through his shoulder-length raven-black hair and then told him, "Just another nightmare, Melee."

"They are becoming more frequent. Do you remember the dream this time?"

"Only images," Edward answered as he closed his blue eyes, remembering the violent sights. "I see a terrible Beast in the midst of a great battle. Its war cry stabs my soul like a knife. I want to flee, but I see the Mystic Rose above the conflict. Many die around me because of the Beast." He opened his eyes as he stated, "That is all I remember. That is all I ever remember."

He looked at a wooden pedestal in the middle of the room and on it, the Mystic Rose magically suspended within a protective glass dome as a supernatural glow illuminated the pedestal. The illumination depended on the color the Mystic Rose's petals assumed and at the moment, they were yellow. Edward got up, poured water from a pitcher into a washbasin, splashed his face, and then stated, "I cannot remember a time when I did not have the dreams. Why do I have them?" He stared at the water lit by fire as he asked, "And why do I fear them?" He grabbed a towel, dried his face, and then spoke, "Court wise men say the Beast is me while others say it's a great enemy coming to devour our kingdom." He looked at the High Guard and inquired, "What do you think?"

"I don't know, my lord," Melee answered. "Maybe a dream is only a dream."

The High Guard's answer didn't help Edward. He didn't understand why he must bear the burden of the visions. Edward knew the dreams were telling him something. He just didn't know what. The Prince lay back in bed, finding no comfort with the stranger beside him as he ordered, "You may leave, Melee. I have an important sun's cycle tomorrow and need to get what sleep I can." He clinched his blankets as he continued, "Before the sun is high, we set sail to fetch my intended, Princess Virago of Morgog, and head for the Isle of Kismet for the Amalgamation."

Edward pondered the nightmare some more and wondered if the Princess or the Morgog Kingdom could be the Beast. Their kingdoms had been rivals in the past so this alliance would be an uneasy one. He thought about it some more, and then he considered that he should fear what was coming.

* * *

Pluck, like a Ghost Panther, leapt about the trees, not straying far from the temple. She loved soaring from limb to limb as if gravity had no pull on her. Freedom and peace engulfed her, erasing her curse at least for a few nals as night spread its wings over the sky and only the moons, Auror the Greater and Array the Lesser, penetrated its dark hold. Pluck scurried to the top of the tallest tree and studied the heavenly bodies. Even in the vastness of the night, Auror and Array were magnificent and possessed a power of their own. It was a power that affected the tides and her mood. She smiled, taking a deep breath of the pine-scented air, mesmerized by the pale blue spheres. Pluck felt a wildness take hold, and it was a surge of emotion that ignited her senses. The feral sensations triggered a memory of Fairah hovering above the four cat statues within the temple. Pluck was nine at the time.

In the memory...

"Why do ye cry, child?" Fairah questioned the young girl.

Pluck wiped her little eyes while she sat next to the pool in the center of the temple as she replied, "I hate how I look." She peered at her reflection on the water as she added, "I'm ugly."

"That is not true," Fairah told her. She hated seeing Pluck upset. The Protector searched the room, noticed the large cats below her, and then asked, "Did I ever tell ye why these statues are here?" She swiped her spirit hand through the head of one as she stated, "They guard this temple and each was chosen for their virtues."

Pluck sniffed as she questioned, "Why tell me?"

"Each of them is within ye," Fairah explained to her as she floated down and sat next to Pluck. "The strength, heart, and loyalty of the Fire Lion; the speed, enthusiasm, and stability of the Striped Cheetah; the courage, stamina, and dedication of the Woolly Tiger; and the stealth, cunning, and dauntlessness of the Ghost Panther." She smiled and then added, "They not only make up what ye look like but what ye are inside. Ye's curse can be a blessing if ye can get past ye's appearance."

The present...

"Fairah is right about one thing," Pluck said to herself as she stared up at the night. "I feel them within me. They're my animal side." She stretched out on a branch, stared up at the multitude of stars, and breathed in the refreshing air as her black-tip tail swayed. Pluck felt at home, at least some of her did. A small part yearned for human contact and to return to the Fletching Castle as sorrow enveloped her. She scolded herself, "I'm not going to focus on it. I've been sad long enough. I'm going to enjoy the rest of the night."

The moons set as dawn drew near, and songs came with the new sun's cycle as birds sang to the fresh day. Pluck climbed down a vine and rushed into the temple as her long tail twitched with excitement. She had slept little but felt as bright and chipper as the infant sun's cycle.

"Another beautiful night. You should have seen it, Fairah. The moons were blue and full and from the Lofty Pine, I could almost touch the smallest one," Pluck spoke as she twirled and danced around the pool. "At sunset, the sky became amber and burned across the horizon."

Her white High Guard's sleeved shirt fluttered with her movements as her clawed feet pranced about to an imagined melody. The brown leather pants she wore were baggy from the knees down. Pluck finished her dance and knelt by the water, studying her reflection by torchlight. Since the birth of her beast form, there had been few changes. She had grown eight hands tall, tall as an average man. Her fiery-crimson mane had thickened and flowed just below her shoulders. She had grown a set of breasts, and her ears were rounded and cupped. She looked at her hand, at least she still had fingers even if they had retractable claws. Emerald feline eyes stared back at her.

"The memory of my human form has faded," Pluck said as she frowned.

"Ye better not let Han see ye cry," Fairah told her as she appeared above her and floated down to her side.

"I'm not crying," Pluck said as she wiped her eyes. "Anyway, he won't be here till tomorrow. The letter sent by Courier Pigeon stated he had news for me." Pluck grabbed her long beige tail and stroked its black-tip as she spoke, "I wonder what he wants to tell me. Could it be about the Prince or maybe he's found another way to end my curse?"

Fairah sighed as she threw up her metaphysical hands, and then she said, "The commander could assist ye much better if ye would only tell him the promise that was made between ye and the Prince, and then ye would have no need for any other cure."

Pluck frowned again as she said, "I fear he'll try to stop me from receiving the Kiss and that's why I haven't told Han all of these seasons." Pluck lay on the stones, gazing at the ceiling as she stated, "The Kiss isn't something the Prince gives away. It pledges his heart and soul." She paused and said with a hint of sadness, "Edward may have already given his first kiss to someone." She rolled over, looked at her reflection again, and then continued, "If this is true, I'll remain in this accursed body."

Fairah's spirit hand stroked her mane. The Protector wished she had a corporeal form to comfort the woman she'd come to consider her child. Fairah told her, "I know not what to say. There is beauty in ye's form if only ye would see it."

Pluck sat up and said, "Even if I did, people would consider me a Necrom. I would be shunned with only an apparition and an old High Guard to keep me company." She slunk to her blankets on a bed of hay and once she reached them, she requested, "Tell me again about the Creator."

Fairah grinned as she questioned, "Are ye not a little old for bedtime stories?"

"Are they just stories?" Pluck questioned as she pulled up her blanket, looking into Fairah's solid white eyes.

"No, child," Fairah replied as she floated to her. "In an explosion of life, the Creator brought Terra into existence. All was perfect. No wars, sickness, or sadness. One sun's cycle the Despiser, his real name lost in time, wished to be worshiped like the Creator so he lied to those of Terra. He told them magic could be used for more than helping others, that it could be used to help one's self and with that, magic became corrupted. So now there is magic of the Creator and magic of the Despiser."

"Not everyone believes this?"

"No, like the Necroms the Creator has fallen into Myth. Many do not believe."

"I believe," Pluck stated as she turned on her side, and then she repeated, "I believe."

Fairah lifted into the air, and she slowly vanished as she said, "Good... Never forget. He shall protect ye."

"Peaceful night," Pluck spoke.

"Peaceful night," Fairah said in turn as her form completely disappeared.

* * *

The next sun's cycle twilight broke over the forest of Naught. Black Feathered Yaws greeted the morning with their high pitched shrills. Inside the temple, Pluck's cat ears twitched as she heard two horses approaching.

"It must be Han," she spoke to herself, grinning mischievously and scurried for a hiding place.

Han entered the large room and cautiously searched every shadow as she softly growled at him ready to pounce on him.

He told her, "There's no time for your game this morning, Pluck. We must leave. The Prince's ship shall not wait for us."

"Leave? Ship?" Pluck questioned as she emerged from behind the statue of the Woolly Tiger, forgetting her game. "What do you mean?"

He didn't know she was hiding there. Her abilities had greatly improved since he started training her. Han would have had her joined the ranks of the High Guards long ago if not for her curse and if not for her gender.

Han answered her, "Empress Candiss has died. The time of the new Amalgamation has come. Edward sets sail to collect his betrothed. Together, they shall sail for the Isle of Kismet to claim the crowns of Emperor and Empress. All of the High Guards shall escort him. Great danger awaits all who attempt the crown."

"All High Guards?" Pluck uttered as she pointed to herself. "You mean even me? Go where I'll be seen?" His statement confused her, and she questioned, "But how?" She looked at her hands, examining her fingers and palms that were bare but the rest of her hands were covered in short beige fur like her body, and then she asked, "Will your men accept me?"

Han told her, "Pluck, I didn't train you so you could stay in this temple forever. You are a High Guard and one of the finest I've ever schooled. Here..." He lifted a long cloak, a pair of boots, and gloves he'd been carrying in one hand as he said, "These shall keep you disguised until the others and yourself become accustomed to your condition."

She took the brown leather cloak, boots, and gloves.

"Put them on," he ordered.

Pluck hooked the cloak's clasp around her neck, pulled on the gloves, and slipped into the knee-high boots, and then she asked, "When will we return?"

Han thought about it, and then he answered, "The journey shall take over a season." He showed her a pin as he said, "There are two other things."

"A Charging Black Elk, the Fletching insignia," Pluck exclaimed as she beamed with pride as he fastened the gold and black pin to her cloak just above her heart.

He lifted a long object wrapped in a red cloth. He unwrapped a rapier, a matching main gauche, and a belt with a sword frog, and then he handed them to her.

She took the sword and matching dagger as she uttered, "An Accolade Sword!"

"Yes, the weapon of honor. It's official, Pluck." Pride beamed from his face as he stated, "You're a High Guard."

She grabbed the hilt of the rapier, and its silvery brass hand guard twisted over her hand like a vine. Pluck unsheathed the sword and studied its long slender blade.

"The finest weapon in the land," he said, and then Han folded his arms before he uttered, "Now..." He noticed her tail twitching under her cloak, and he questioned, "What are we to do about that?"

Pluck looked back and said, "Watch." She parted her cloak, revealing her waist, wrapped her tail around herself like a belt, and tucked the tip inside the tail opposite her sword.

Her actions amused him as he commented, "Interesting trick. Your tail is like a third arm." The sun rose high enough to peer into the temple's Eastern windows as he said, "Time we go, come."

"I will," she told him as she turned and looked at the room and pool which had been her home for fourteen seasons. "I only have to say farewell."

Han turned and peered around the room as if expecting to see something or someone he hadn't seen since Pluck had been cursed. He had always wondered if the protector of the Mystic Rose had kept in contact with her, and he finally had his answer.

He told her as he left the great room and headed through the hall, "I shall ready the horses."

Pluck waited until she heard him leave the temple, and then she yelled, "Fairah! Fairah, I'm leaving."

"Yes, I heard, child," the protector spoke as she appeared above the pool and floated down to her like a ghostly dove of splendor and light.

Pluck looked at her and for a few moments, she remembered the wrath-filled woman whose piercing white-eyes crackled with magic when she first appeared to her as a child. The beautiful woman with equally white hair had terrified her as a child with her fierce rage and swift retaliation to what the protector, at the time, thought was an injustice. As Pluck grew and the sun's cycles turned into seasons, she found that Fairah had a very kind side to her. She wasn't this ghastly wielder of magic but someone she could depend on and learn from. Fairah had a fondness for her as much as she had a fondness for the protector. She was her constant guardian. Fairah filled a role in her life that had been vacant when she lived among the royal court. She was bound to Pluck, not as the witch who cursed her or even as the protector of the Mystic Rose. Fairah had found a very special place in her heart.

"The commander is correct," Fairah told her. "Many dangers await all who take this journey. The Prince shall many times depend on ye for his safety."

"I understand that, but did you hear him? I won't be back for more than a season."

"What is this face for?" Fairah questioned her as she lifted her spectral hand to Pluck's chin. "Shall ye miss this old witch?"

"You've been like a..." She couldn't finish with the word mother and said instead, "You've been here when no one else was." She sniffed, fighting back tears as she replied, "So yes, I'll miss you, witch or not."

Fairah told her, "Then let me give ye a parting gift. One I have been wishing to give ye these many seasons but had not the power." She lifted her hands and green energy swirled around herself, and then the power ceased as she landed on the ground. Fairah smiled again and placed her arms around Pluck, embracing her.

Her touch startled Pluck, but then she returned her hug. Pluck couldn't remember a time when she felt more happy or sad. It had been seasons since she felt the touch of another and felt their love, and now she had to depart.

"I don't want to leave you, but I have my duty," Pluck told her as she sniffed again, rubbing her panther nose. "Hopefully, I'll return as I was when I first entered this temple."

Fairah stroked her mane as she said, "There... there... child." Fairah leaned back to look into her face and told her, "I shall be here when ye return. Know that." She grabbed her furry chin and pulled Pluck's gaze to hers. "Whether woman or beast, I shall be waiting."

Pluck nodded, unable to say anything and started for the exit.

Fairah grabbed her left gloved hand, lifted it so Pluck could see, and then told her, "One last thing before ye leave. The marks on ye's finger, they are more than tattoos. They are ye's connection to the Mystic Rose. It chose ye, remember that. Now ye should be on ye's way. Han shall be waiting."

Pluck hugged her again and then ran out.

A tear streamed down Fairah's face as she spoke, "Look at me." She wiped the wetness away before losing her corporeal form. "I am the one who ended up crying."

Chapter Three

Breakneck and Waterswift

The blue-gray hills of the land of Naught gave way to the flat country of the Flush Plains. Han nudged his horse to pick up speed through the tall blue-gray grass. The steed gnawed at the bit but obeyed as Han glanced at Pluck and questioned her, "You haven't said a word since we started our journey. Is something bothering you?"

"Many things," she answered. "Will the High Guards accept me? Is it too late to end my curse?" She muttered under her breath so he couldn't hear, "If it's not, will Edward give me the Kiss or will he save it for his new wife?"

Han hated that she kept the cure to her curse a secret all of these seasons, and he said, "If you would only tell me what pact you and the Prince made, I might be able to help you."

She stared at the distant shore as she told him, "When I am ready, I promise Han, I'll tell you."

He nodded, not understanding but respected her decision, looked ahead, and said, "Time you pulled on your hood. We're nearing the port."

Pluck and Han slowed their horses to a trot upon entering the large fishing village. Heron was like any in the Fletching Kingdom. The village had three taverns, a market, many huts, and a baron's house sat on the hill. Many peasants walked the streets while a few nobles rode through in carriages. Voices filled the air along with the cries of Gray Gulls as a salty breeze and the smell of fish hit Han.

He pointed as he told her, "The ships are ahead."

"Han, does the Prince know I'm coming?"

The commander halted his steed as he told her, "Pluck, I never told you this, but Edward doesn't remember you or that sun's cycle in the temple. It was too much for him."

She pulled on the reins as her heart sunk. Pluck stared at the horse's mane, not wanting Han to see her hurt expression. She had been able to endure the curse because she always hoped one sun's cycle it would be lifted, but she always assumed Edward appreciated her actions. Pluck put a gloved hand to her chest as her soul ached, knowing her sacrifice was forgotten. She turned to Han and questioned, "If an act is unremembered, did it ever happen? Does it mean anything?"

"Pluck, I remember what you did and what you lost," Han told her and then nudged his steed forward, and she followed as he said, "To answer your question, I believe an act good or evil is never forgotten."

They neared the docks and dismounted. Breakneck and Waterswift, two of the Fletching six masts Royal Navy ships, were loading supplies. Most of the High Guards and their horses were already aboard, awaiting their commander's arrival.

"We're to board the Breakneck, that is Prince Edward's ship," Han told her as he grabbed his horse's reins and led the animal toward the plank.

Pluck started to follow when she heard an old woman's voice. Outside a supply store, three men harassed an elderly couple. Her emerald feline eyes flashed with anger within the shadow of her hood.

"Foul Dreggs," she muttered and shouted, "Wait, Han! Here..." Pluck handed him her reins, and then she told him, "I must deal with these fiendish brutes."

Han noticed the couple, and he argued, "There's no time for this."

She faced him, surprised by the commander's words, and then she questioned him, "No time?"

The cloak shadowed her outraged face as she considered his words. Surely this wasn't her teacher speaking. Maybe this was a test.

Pluck said, "I can't believe you said that." She calmed herself and then questioned him, "What's the High Guard vow?"

Han muttered to himself, "So the student has become the instructor." He then answered, "We do all things to glorify the Creator, we pledge loyalty to the crown, we swear to protect the Fletching people and property and above all, we forfeit our lives for the Royal Family."

She nodded and told him, "Very good. I shouldn't be too long." Pluck approached the three men like a dauntless Ghost Panther stalking the jungles, and then she deepened her voice as she spoke, "Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?"

One of the thugs, who had a missing front tooth, barked, "No." He turned and faced the cloaked stranger who had a gruff voice, and then the thug said, "Now why don't ya mind yer own business and move on?"

Pluck parted her cloak and revealed her Accolade Sword as she told him, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Matt, he's a High Guard," another thug voiced, assuming she was a he. "Crell... He'll have our fasses!" the thug exclaimed as he backed away from the cloaked figure.

"I think not," Matt said as he placed his hand on the hilt of his bastard sword.

"Crell! What do we do?" the third thug questioned as he and his companion readied their maces, glancing around skittishly like Plains Rabbits.

Matt saw the shipload of High Guards watching them. Even if they took down the smug one in front of them, the rest would surely kill them. Matt spat on the ground and backed up, relenting as he said, "Our business here's completed." He turned, cursing and stomped down the dirt street as he barked, "Come on!"

Pluck watched the three men walk off, then turned to the elderly couple, and asked, "Can I help you load your cart?"

"No thank you, kind sir. We're grateful you came to our aid. Please..." The man handed her a wheel of cheese as he said, "Take this with our gratitude."

Pluck nodded, took the yellow cheese, headed for the Breakneck, and boarded the ship. She found Han standing at the gangplank after he had loaded their horses into the stable of the lower deck.

"Didn't even draw your sword, quite the beast," Han told her as he glanced hungrily at the cheddar. "What are you going to do with the wheel?"

She grinned at his pun and at his apparent craving for cheese and told him, "You can have it."

Han waved over a cabin boy and had the lad take the cheddar to his quarters, and then Han told her, "My thanks."

He motioned for her to follow him to a group of men. Four High Guards stood at attention as their commander approached. Each wore a white long-sleeved shirt, brown leather pants, and a red cape with the Fletching insignia of a charging Black Elk pinned above their heart. Each was armed with a rapier and matching main gauche.

Han motioned to the tallest of the group and said, "This is Ardor, my Second. He's the finest swordsman in the land."

The long black haired man with a muscular build was also beardless and had a small scar under his right eye, and he stepped forward as he said, "So this must be Pluck, the High Guard you've been training in the North."

Ardor looked over their newest member, wondering what Han saw in him. Over the last few seasons, Han spent most of his time in the North. There was a possibility that this High Guard was better than him and if so, he felt this newcomer would be in the running to replace the commander when the time came. He rested his hand on his hilt, thinking he would watch him closely.

"Yes, this is Pluck," Han replied, and then he motioned to a red-headed man with a pointed beard. "This is Fracas, master of the bow and Head Archer."

"Ah..." Fracas spoke as he reached out, grabbed Pluck's gloved hand, and shook it as he said, "So... I've heard you've also split a few arrows." Fracas would have to test his arm, pit his skill against Pluck's, and see if Pluck was as good as Han boasted.

Pluck returned the thin man's shake as she said, "I'm nowhere near your skill."

"Modesty," a blond headed man spoke as he slapped her back nearly knocking her down, and then he spoke, "We shall have to keep an eye on you."

Han said, "This Forest Ox of a man is Parry and to his right is Sinew. He's the silent one and our finest tracker."

Pluck looked at the large muscular man with a blond goatee and then to the last. Sinew was short, had a shaven head, and a long black mustache. She nodded to them.

Parry leaned down to Sinew's ear and questioned, "So which initiation should we use to induct this one? The bloody sheep's bag in the bed or the Night Prowlers Raid?"

"The latter," Sinew answered as he stroked his long mustache. "Why hold back?"

Parry nodded as he replied, "Good. The first night he isn't on duty we strike."

Han turned to Ardor and asked him, "Are we ready to set sail?"

"Yes, all of our men and supplies are loaded," Ardor answered, and then he headed for the Breakneck's captain. "Let us see how long until her crew's ready."

The rest of the men headed for their stations as Pluck followed Han and Ardor up to the bridge.

"Waterswift has set sail for the mouth of the bay to scout for any of Commery, Swelldom, or Hort's ships," Ardor continued. "Two nights ago a Commery vessel was spotted. It isn't likely they shall attack so close to the mainland, but one never knows." He walked up the steps to the bridge as he said, "We await the Prince's arrival."

"Then you wait no longer," Edward declared as he stood at the top of the gangplank with Melee his personal guard behind him. The Prince's disdain of King Stark's orders was apparent on his face. His father forced him to leave his lovers behind. His father said it wouldn't be proper to have them along on his wedding voyage, not only would he have no companionship on the journey, but he was to marry a woman he'd never seen. He feared that she was ghastly.

Edward asked, "How long until we get this wretched voyage on its way?"

Ardor nodded to the skipper, and Captain Brine stepped forward and answered, "We shall set sail now, my lord."

Pluck studied her prince and her childhood friend. Edward had changed. He was a man. She looked over his royal garb consisting of a blue silk shirt, white cotton pants, and a gold silk sash girded his waist. A large gold medallion with the charging Black Elk decorated his neck. He was a handsome man and this fact saddened her. What was she thinking? Why would he kiss one so monstrous as she? Even if it ended her curse, Edward doesn't know her or remember her. Why did she get her hopes up?

"Very good," Edward answered. "Have someone show me my quarters and bring along my things."

"At once, my lord," Brine said, and then he shouted orders to his crew, and soon they were on their way.

A great wind caught Breakneck's sails and pushed her over the blue-green waters. Seaspray moistened the cool air as Gray Gulls filled the cloudless sky. Pluck stood at a railing, looked at the ocean, and held on to her hood as the salty wind whipped at her face. She had never been out to sea before. It was a completely different world. Pluck felt a hand touch her shoulder, so she turned and uttered, "Han."

"I have assigned you to be one of Edward's personal guards along with Melee. One of you must always be at his side."

"I'm afraid to approach the Prince, so how can I be his bodyguard?" she questioned him as she glanced at the water. "I don't think–"

"Then don't," Han interrupted. "This assignment shall give you a chance to get to know Edward. Maybe then he shall come to remember you and the pledge and then once and for all, he shall shatter your curse." He looked across the horizon as he spoke, "Until that happens, do your job and let time deal with forgotten memories. I have confidence things shall work out."

"I don't know," Pluck said. "Maybe it's better I don't get my hopes up." She changed the subject by asking, "How many sun's cycles till we reach the Morgog Kingdom?"

"Four. A lot can happen in that time," he spoke to reassure her. "Seize the opportunities when they come."

Chapter Four

Port of Pass

Lookouts searched the seas for enemy ships from their lofty perch in the crow's nests. The sun's cycle faded, and the air grew chilly as the cabin boy lit the ship's lanterns. Night came ever darkening the amber sky until there was no trace of the sun. The full moons crept over the ship, casting a ghostly glow on the dark ocean. In the distance and in the depths of the sea, Horned Whales sang their sad hypnotic song. Pluck had never heard such an enchanting melody. It made her homesick for Fairah, the temple, and the night sounds of the forest. The sea was so different.

Pluck held her post outside the Prince's quarters as the first part of the night went by uneventful. She stood below deck, swaying with the ship with only her thoughts to keep her company. She muttered, "I don't think I'll ever get used to this. The floor's never still."

She nodded to Bulwark who passed her in the hall. Pluck remembered the old High Guard from her childhood and wished she could tell him who she was. He and Von had always been so kind to her. Pluck sighed, tapping her hilt as her mind drifted. Four sun's cycles until they reached Morgog. What would Princess Virago be like? Pretty, she assumed. Her mind returned to the ship and to the loneliness of her post. This was frustrating... Pluck didn't see how she and Edward would ever get to know each other if all she did was stand out while he slept. Han needed to... The Prince screamed and filled her thoughts with images of that fateful sun's cycle in the temple. She turned in a panic and went to his aid.

"Edward!" Pluck yelled as she opened the door and rushed in ready to draw her sword. She found him sitting up in bed breathing heavily, and so she asked, "Are you all right?"

"I am fine. It was a mere nightmare," he replied as he looked at Pluck and noticed who he thought was a man wasn't Melee. Edward said, "I do not know you."

His words cut at her heart as she stuttered, "I..." She composed herself and said, "I am Pluck. I took over for Melee."

Edward put a hand to his head and spoke, "That is right. Han spoke of this."

Silence followed, so she broke the awkward moment with a question and asked, "What was it about?"

"Hmm..." he voiced as he examined the shadowy figure in the hall's light. "What was what about and why are you wearing a hooded cloak instead of the High Guard cape?"

"I was asking about your dream," Pluck replied as she took a few steps into the room. "As for my hood, it's no disrespect to you. It hides my appearance. It's quite startling."

"When I was younger, one of the old soldiers wore a hood. His face had been maimed during the last Amalgamation. Is this the same with you?"

She replied, "I wasn't maimed during an Amalgamation but, yes, you could say I'm the way I am because I was defending the Fletching family. Now–" She walked up to his bed and questioned, "–your dream?"

"Nightmare," Edward answered as he wiped his clammy face. "I have it every night. I see this horrible Beast that resembles a Necrom, and it is in the midst of a great battle."

Horrible Beast? Pluck's heart fluttered. Was he dreaming of her?

Edward continued, "The Beast slays hundreds, but still it is unwavering. It screams like a Ghost Panther and then the Beast turns, and I can see its piercing green eyes. It charges after me. I am afraid and cry out and that is when I wake. The dream is always the same." He turned to her as a glimmer of hope crossed his face, and he questioned, "What do you think? I have asked many, but none can give me an answer."

Pluck began, "Maybe the Beast is not horrible. Maybe she's trying to tell you something. Have you ever tried not to fear the Beast and let her approach you? You know it's a dream, so the Beast can't hurt you."

She..? He never said the Beast was a he or a she.

Edward cleared his dry throat and said, "No, I have never tried to do anything in the nightmares. I do not know if I can. They are so terrible."

"Not if you know they are made by your mind," she said and then suggested, "Next time you have one, don't fear the Beast. Let her approach you. It may be the only way to end them."

"I shall try. Thank you. You may leave now, ah..."

"Pluck."

"Yes," Edward said as he lay back and grabbed his covers. "Close the door as you leave."

* * *

Edward emerged from below with Pluck following. The bright sun shone through the clouded sky, and he squinted, putting his hand up to shade his eyes. Sailors were busy about their work as he walked up to the bridge, and Captain Brine had the helm.

"How do we fare?" Edward asked.

"Very well, my lord. We should arrive at Pass Island by late sun's cycle," Brine replied as he gripped the wheel's spokes. "We shall add a few more supplies along with your presents for your bride and by tomorrow morning, we shall be sailing for the Morgog Kingdom."

"Have any enemy ships been spotted?"

"No," Brine answered as he pointed beyond the bow to a ship in the distance. "Wind Swift sails ahead of us. She signals every nal but has yet to spot a vessel. Most eerie, considering this is a trade route."

Melee approached them and motioned that he would take over for Pluck. She nodded and headed below. Pluck had never been so tired. All the standing around doing nothing. She headed for Han's quarters which he shared with her and Ardor. Pluck entered, finding both men gone and examined the bunks. They were so small and enclosed, she didn't know if she could sleep in them.

Pluck climbed into the top one and removed her boots and gloves. She unclasped her cloak, laid it to the side, and released her tail from around her waist as she exclaimed, "Ahh..." Pluck sighed and muttered, "More than a season of this. I don't know if I can do it." She lay on her stomach, allowing her tail to twitch about. She missed running freely through the forest, she missed the temple, and she missed Fairah. Pluck tried to sleep but couldn't. There were so many new sounds and smells, and the ship swayed. Her eyelids gradually grew heavy, and soon she succumbed to exhaustion.

Later that sun's cycle, she heard footsteps approach her cabin and quickly pulled on her cloak.

Ardor opened the door, and he ordered, "Awake, Pluck. We dock in Pass."

Pass was smaller than Heron but just as busy. Edward disembarked along with Melee and Pluck. She went along for extra security. They rode to the middle of the small island where a trader named Purveyor had gathered gifts for Princess Virago from the Five Kingdoms.

An old white-haired beggar shaded himself under a Cobalt Oak near the trader's store. His dull blue eyes stared off into the distance, and they were vacant as the shell that sat there. The beggar, who was dressed in rags, tilted his head as the three dismounted and he smiled, revealing his rotten teeth. He came to life like a stringed puppet, holding out his wooden bowl for a coin. He pointed a bony finger at Pluck and yelled, "You... I know yer kind. You are touched..." he blared. "You are touched!"

"Sounds like someone else is touched," Melee said as he tapped his head.

Edward chuckled and went into the store, leaving Melee to watch the horses.

Pluck paused and glanced at the beggar and then at her tattooed finger hidden by her glove. He had pointed right at her and said her kind, but she was alone in her curse. Pluck followed the Prince into the store as she muttered, "Crazy beggar."

Many oddities and rare gifts filled the shelves of Purveyor's store. Weapons old and new were exhibited in display cases and hung on walls. Stuffed creatures, some of which neither of them had seen before, stood throughout the room, and other trinkets laid about.

"Ah... Prince Edward..." Purveyor said as he approached them with his arms wide. He was a well-rounded man and nearly as wide as he was tall. "Good to see you again." He grabbed the Prince's hand, kissed his royal ring, and then said, "Come, come, I have the items you ordered. This way..." Purveyor led them to the back as he spoke, "Twenty bolts of Sol Silk, four dozen Blood Pearls from the coast of Benin, Red Ivory, Black Diamonds, and the finest gems." He pointed to crate after crate as he told them, "Here's the Cobalt Silver, Fire-white Gold, and Ruby Glass."

Pluck closely watched the trader, searching for signs he might attack the Prince. She sensed he couldn't be trusted, and the store made her uneasy. The scent of many dead animals filled the room, and she felt as if the fleshy statues watched them. They shouldn't have done that to the animals. It wasn't right. Would they want their carcasses on display?

When they entered the back room, she felt a familiar presence, and it added to her unsettling sensations. She put her hand to her hilt as the low rumblings of a Woolly Tiger permeated the room. The Prince and Purveyor didn't hear the low roar. Her heart pounded. It was like that sun's cycle long ago when she and Edward first entered the temple. Pluck searched the room but found no large cats, not that she thought she would. In a corner, a flash of metal caught her eye. It was odd since no sunlight broke into the room. The glint came from a sword. Pluck turned to Edward for guidance, but he was busy talking with the trader. She turned back to the weapon. Was she meant to see the sword?

Pluck walked to the hand-and-a-half sword, grabbed the black scabbard, and examined the strange markings adorning the leather. The steel of the handle was almost white like the hottest fire. She grabbed the hilt which had a large sphere pommel and a power throbbed through the grip like a pulse. The energy excited her, so she unsheathed the sword and felt a force flow through it almost like it was alive. She discovered that more markings engraved the blade and that it was exquisitely crafted. Pluck lifted the weapon, testing its weight, and it was well balanced. Delight swelled in her, and she had to have the sword. She smoothed her glove over the ancient lettering of the blade and spoke its name, "Lux the Lightning Sword."

Pluck was surprised she could read the archaic words. She sheathed the Lux and walked to Purveyor who was still trying to flatter the Prince with his business prowess.

"You wouldn't believe what I traded to acquire this Sol Silk. Cooking pots," Purveyor started as he put his hand to his round belly and laughed. "Yes, now that was a deal."

Edward said, "One I imagine you shall pass on to the consumer."

"Yes, of course, my lord," Purveyor stated as his face paled.

"How much for this sword?" Pluck questioned as she showed the weapon to the trader.

"That sword..." Purveyor started as he eyed the Prince, making sure he listened. "Now that is an interesting piece, though I am sad to say the blade must have rusted. No one has been able to remove it from its housing." He rubbed his hands together as he said, "It would still make a nice piece to display if you're interested."

She told him, "I removed the blade without difficulty."

"You must be mistaken. I should know. I've had that sword for many seasons," Purveyor said, then turned to the Prince, and stated, "See, I am an honest businessman."

"Is this so?" Edward asked as he glanced at the weapon, then faced the trader, and told him, "If the sword does not function, then it should be given away."

"Given?" Purveyor uttered as if someone stole a precious gem from him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing money on a trade. "Given, you say?" he questioned again as he reached out his hand and said, "May I see the sword?"

She handed him the scabbard.

Purveyor grabbed the hilt and tried to remove the hand-and-a-half sword, but it wouldn't budge. He shook his head, studied its finely crafted handle and scabbard, and then sighed. He lifted the sheath with both hands, returned the weapon, and gave in to pressure as he said, "You're right, my lord. I give this sword as a gift to your High Guard."

Pluck accepted the scabbard as she said, "Thank you." She strapped the sword over her shoulder so that the scabbard rested on her back at an angle. Pluck wondered if there was magic within the sword as there was magic within her. Why else could the trader not unsheathe the Lux?

Edward removed several bags of gold and told the trader, "Our business is then concluded. Have the gifts brought to my ship right away. Here are a thousand pieces. You shall receive the remaining ten thousand once the items are delivered."

"Yes, of course," Purveyor said as he greedily took the bags. "They shall be there within the nal."

"Pluck!" Melee shouted from outside. "To arms!"

She entered the front room, drew her rapier and main gauche, and looked at the Prince as Edward drew his. They both rushed outside while the trader glanced out his windows. Melee had his weapons drawn on seven horsemen.

"You!" Pluck shouted as she pointed her sword at their leader. "You're the one who harassed that couple at Heron."

Matt bowed while he sat upon his saddle as he said, "I'm honored ya remembered me. It makes it easier. Ya know we have some business to satisfy."

"Maybe," Pluck spoke as she glanced at Edward and then to Melee. "Why don't we return things as they were? These two will leave and then we'll discuss our business."

Matt laughed, revealing his missing front tooth as he replied, "No, they'll stay."

Pluck said as she stepped closer to the horsemen, "I don't think you followed us all this way because I prevented you from stealing a wheel of cheese." She demanded, "What's your true purpose here?"

"Yes!" Edward spoke up. "Who hired you? Which of the Kingdoms? Commery, Swelldom, or Hort?"

Matt smiled like a Black-faced Jackal finding a carcass as he told them, "That I can't tell ya." He commanded his men, "Kill the High Guards, but don't harm the Prince, at least not yet." He slid off his horse as his men dismounted, and three men started for Pluck. Matt ordered, "No, stand down. That Phragg is mine." Matt drew his bastard sword and lunged for Pluck as he said, "Ya High Guards are so archaic."

She deflected his attack and then questioned him, "Why do you say that?" Pluck countered with a volley of cuts.

"Ya have fallen behind the times. Look at the weapons yer using," Matt stated after he leaped from the swipes. "Sure yer rapiers might be the finest in the land, but they're useless against weapons like these." He swung his bastard sword over his head and brought it down, breaking her rapier in half.

Shock seized her as the steel failed her, and she stared at the broken blade in the dirt. All those seasons she'd yearned to wield a weapon as fine as the Accolade Sword, and now she stood before seven Dreggs defeated in her first duel.

"See, I've proven my point," Matt said as he readied his sword for another attack. "Now I'll thrust it into yer heart."

Her instincts took over, and she leapt back, landing on a boulder she had seen several feet away. She threw the hilt of the rapier to the ground and stared at her main gauche.

Matt yelled at her outraged, but then he grinned and said, "Yer very agile, High Guard, but yer still without a weapon." He lifted both hands and declared, "And outnumbered."

He charged the boulder. Pluck ran for a Lofty Pine, scurried to its lowest branch, crouched on all fours, and studied the situation. She wanted to scream at the Dregg, but she had to control herself and keep the Beast within her reined.

"Come down here and die like a man," Matt ordered as he cut into the tree with his sword. The blade wedged into the wood, and he couldn't disengage it. "As soon as I get this free, I'm coming after ya."

She ignored Matt, looked at the three men watching them, then to the two fighting Melee, and finally to the one attacking the Prince. Pluck could remove her cloak, and her appearance might frighten the Dreggs into running, but it would kill her chances at ending her curse. Pluck reached up and grabbed her hood as she glanced at the Prince. She couldn't let her selfish reasoning jeopardize Edward's life, but maybe there was still another way.

Moments seemed like nals as Pluck pondered her next action. Edward and Melee fought courageously as she stood idle. Pluck decided she had to and then as if the wind carried the sound from a distant land, she heard the Woolly Tiger's roar. Pine needles rustled as relief swept over her for there was hope. Pluck sheathed her dagger and moved her hand past the hood to the pommel of the hand-and-a-half sword. She'd almost forgotten about the Lux.

"What's wrong, High Guard?" Matt asked as he grunted to free his weapon. "Ya look lost. Are ya as fragile as yer sword?"

Pluck leapt over his head, flipped, and landed on her feet. She unsheathed her new weapon and thunder rumbled from a cloudless sky.

Matt's toothless smile faded as he exclaimed, "Crell! Yer not weaponless!"

Purveyor watched from a window and uttered, "By Fletching! How did you remove it?" He remembered himself and covered his mouth, hiding again in the shadow of his store.

The thug fighting Edward forced the sword from the Prince's hand, and then he said, "Matt, I have him." He placed the tip of his blade to Edward's throat and blood trickled down the Prince's neck.

Pluck held her breath. They couldn't kill him. She had to save him, but how?

"Easy there," Matt commanded his man. "We aren't paid to spill royal blood." He turned his attention back to Pluck and ordered her, "Drop yer sword."

If she did, there was no chance for them. Pluck had to taunt him into a fight, so she shouted, "Are you afraid to meet me now that I've a weapon that matches yours?"

Matt's men looked at him. Even the ones fighting Melee glanced back to see how he would answer.

"Fass! I fear no man!" he declared. "Least of all yer petty attempts to sway me from my job. Men, let's go. We have what we came for."

"No!" Melee shouted, trying to get past the two he dueled to reach his prince, but they prevented him. One broke through his defenses and cut him across the arm. Melee dropped his rapier as blood ran from his cut and spotted his white shirt, but the injury to his arm was slight.

Pluck watched horrified and her terror turned to rage as she felt a rumbling. At first, she thought the ground shook, and then she realized her sword quaked, shaking her with its intensity. She feared the Lux's might and yet relished in it. Pluck lifted the sword, and lightning crackled from the blade and ionized the air around her. She felt the sword's energy surge through her arm and she roared, enthralled by its vigor as she yelled, "It has so much power!" Pluck placed her other hand to the hilt to control its rampage.

"Ah... Matt, what the Crell is that sword doing?" one of his men asked.

"Fass! Don't know."

Pluck rushed Matt and then engaged him and each time her blade met his steel, lightning flashed and sparks flew. She furiously attacked, not giving Matt a chance to counter. Her fierce onslaught forced the leader to the ground, and his men came to his aid even though they were afraid of the mystical sword. Pluck turned on them and when they lifted their swords and maces against her, she swiped across the weapons and cut them in half. The loyalty they had for their leader weakened for fear and the bandits fled, leaving him behind. Matt scurried back to a boulder like a frightened Borough Rat.

She leveled her sword on him, controlling the rage screaming to cut him down. Through labored breath and gritted teeth, she questioned, "Who sent you?"

"I... I can't tell," Matt quivered out as he put his hands up, shielding himself from the electricity crackling around the sword. "They'll kill me."

Her Ghost Panther growl made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she asked him, "What do you think I'll do to you, Dregg?"

Matt uttered, "What are you?"

Pluck grew impatient and growled again as she demanded, "Answer my question!"

"I will!" he whined. "Don't hurt me." He glanced around and then told her, "Yer right, one of the Kingdoms hired us."

"Which one?" Edward demanded as he neared them. "Tell us!" He put a handkerchief to the cut on his neck.

Matt started, "It was the–" His brownish eyes widened as he grabbed his chest, gripping a dart that struck him. "No," he gasped. "I wasn't going to tell," Matt screamed. "Crell!" He looked at them for help and realized they couldn't save him, so he shouted at them, "All of ya can go to Crell!" He balled up and muttered, "The pain... Dreggs! A curse on Fletching!" Blood ran from his nose, and then he twitched in agony and died.

Melee and Pluck quickly surrounded the Prince to protect him.

The old beggar under the Cobalt Oak chuckled, then made the sign of evil by lifting his pinky and pointer finger, and aimed the warning at them. He said, "I can't allow you to gain the answer to that yet." He stood, holding a small blowgun in his other hand.

Melee charged him as he yelled, "By Fletching! I'll wipe that smile from your grubby face."

The beggar laughed again as his demeanor transformed from a pitiful poor man to a venomous warlock as he spoke, "Fools..." His appearance changed along with his clothes as his gray hair grew and transformed into a wolf's head headdress. His dull blue eyes turned dark as midnight, his rotten teeth to gleaming fangs, a wolf's fur robe replaced his rags, and a long, pointed, inky-black goatee sprouted from his chin. He told them, "You cannot harm me." He turned before Melee reached him and disappeared into the oak like a ghost.

"Witchcraft!" Edward spat, enraged he wouldn't have his answer. "Which of the Kingdoms would use the forbidden arts?" He scratched his chin and then questioned, "Was he a Necrom?"

"I don't know, my lord," Melee replied as he returned to his side. "But we better venture back to the Breakneck. I am still concerned about your safety so far out here from the others."

He and the Prince headed for the horses as Pluck stared at the Cobalt Oak. She didn't think he was a Necrom. He didn't have the appearance of the cat-like creatures. He looked human. The warlock didn't look like her at all, but he did use magic. Being a wielder of the dark arts, could he know what she was? This assumption frightened her. What if he told the others before she had a chance to? Her lips quivered in the shadow of her hood. What if the others cast her out? She bit her lip, watching the Prince as she muttered, "What if Edward forsakes me?"

End sample

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# 1+2: This Is Only The Beginning

Shades Of Gray

#1

Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

SHADES OF GRAY: Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

© 2006, 2018

SOG1: Sample Chapters

Introductions

This series uses a mixture of omniscient past tense and first person present tense to tell the story of Shades of Gray. I have used bold to separate the first person from the omniscient. Enjoy the series.

If multiple Earths exist, what would their worlds look like? What kind of people would they be? Societies? Religions?

Would they make the same mistakes as us?

Translated from the Assembled Works

Ginn L. Irynkissgthie 525 B.D.C. (Before Dry Clouds)

Prologue

On a parallel Earth, thick puffy barriercumulus also known as Dry Clouds covered the sky and prevented the glimmer of twilight from shining on the city of Noir. For three decades, the polluted high-troposphere looming clouds covered half the planet and left part of the world to live in endless night. The mile-thick clouds yielded petroleum based contaminated water dubbed Tainted Rain and polluted the air and so they were named Dry Clouds for leaving half the planet without drinkable water. At first, scientists believed pollution caused the great cloud barrier but that theory proved to be false. What caused the Dry Clouds to form baffled scientists and how to reverse them eluded reason and only technology's constant battle with nature has kept the dark city alive.

Man's need for conquest expanded Noir to cover more than half a continent of what would have been called North America, and Noir became a Mega-city; it was the only one in the world. Over the last twenty years, Transgenics and bio-mechas evolved at a breakneck pace. Transgenics were genetically modified organisms with an extra-genome and were mostly plants produced to survive without the sun. Bio-mechas were robots resembling living things.

On this world, corporations not governments ruled the people, creating a society where profit set policy and dictated life. Those who resided in Noir were touched by darkness, and the light of goodness seemed a forgotten memory and they... they lived in the gray —Shades of Gray.

Chapter One

The Pandora Project

Isaiah 5:30b

If one looks to the land, behold, darkness and sorrow, even the light will be darkened by the clouds.

The year 31 A.D.C. (After Dry Clouds)...

October 22...

Thursday...

4:44 A.M...

In a secret location known as the Sanctum that housed the main facility of the department known as the Council...

A few hours ago, unknown forces had breached a few of the Council's other facilities, and the Sanctum had also been breached but from within by a Mole, so everyone was still on high alert. The Chamber was the brains of the Sanctum, and the three members of the Council sat within the Chamber, receiving intel and updates from the Chamber Analysts.

Fifty flat screen monitors covered three of the walls and lit up the dark inner room of the Chamber as data filled the screens in scrolling masses. Two dozen analysts scrutinized the influx of information coming across the monitors as they typed at their workstations. The men and women toiled, compiling a range of intelligence from several projects and experiments while they also dealt with the breaches.

"All right people, let's stay focused," a male supervisor shouted.

The male supervisor walked up and down the line of workstations as the hum of equipment and the chatter of the workers filled the area. The supervisor received updated reports from the analysts and kept his employers, the Council, current on the projects and experiments along with updates to the three breaches. A female supervisor came in to fill in for Supervisor Annette who had been found out to be the Mole. Unknown to the Council, Supervisor Annette had been a Mole within the Sanctum for years and with the help of some outside force, she had awakened a project known as Pandora, who had been kept at the Sanctum in stasis.

The male supervisor added, "We need to stay on our toes! We don't know if there are any more Moles within our ranks or what they might do next!"

The analysts wore indigo jumpsuits with white stripes on the sides, and the supervisors wore crimson jumpsuits with white stripes. Both the analysts and supervisors wore a wireless earpiece to communicate with operatives in the field and soldiers within their facilities.

In the center of the Chamber, the Council which consisted of two men and a woman sat at a long rectangular table. Each of them wore a black business suit and had a laptop in front of them as shadows concealed their eyes, leaving only their mouths and chins visible in the computer-blue illumination. The three scanned reports as they were delivered to them by the supervisors on Hand Held Computers. The standard size for an H.H.C. was two and a half inches by four and a half inches.

"I want an update on the Pandora Project," Mr. Morta ordered in a deep voice as he sat at the end of the table with the woman to his right and the other man to his left.

"Pandora is still groggy from its abrupt withdraw from stasis, so it has been escorted to a medical suite and is sleeping," Ms. Nona replied. "The doctor thought it best that the Pandora Project was not fully awakened but allowed to pull out of the hyper-stasis naturally."

"There is nothing natural about the Pandora Project," Mr. Decuma spoke up. "I do not see why we cannot induce a full activation."

"We are not in any hurry," Mr. Morta stated. "We had no plans to wake up Pandora, so we should tell the doctor to allow Pandora to come to on its own."

Ms. Nona nodded her agreement and then Mr. Decuma reluctantly did so.

"Good... Good... I will inform the doctor," Mr. Morta said. "Now to address other matters. I believe we should have a full investigation into how our security was breached. We should–"

An alarm went off, interrupting him as all three Council members paused and turned to the male supervisor as he rushed over to their table.

"What has happened?" Mr. Morta inquired.

The male supervisor replied, "We have a containment breach in another one of our hyper-stasis chambers!"

"Which one?" Mr. Decuma questioned.

"The Kraken Project," the male supervisor answered.

"If I remember–" Ms. Nona started, "–Kraken is the creature created to glimpse into the future."

"It is," Mr. Decuma replied. "It was deemed a failure for Kraken had more of an appetite for carnage than to indulge us with its gifts."

The male supervisor listened to his earpiece and then reported, "It has escaped its room, and it's rampaging on Level 159."

"Level 159 is the same level Pandora is on. Could this also be a part of the earlier attack on our facilities?" Ms. Nona questioned. "Is someone still trying to take the Pandora Project away from us?"

The male supervisor replied, "I do not believe so. An experiment was being conducted next door to the Kraken Project's stasis room, and the experiment went out of control and exploded. The explosion knocked out the hyper-stasis chamber's power source along with its back up, and Kraken awoke, and so far, the creature has killed three of our soldiers."

Mr. Decuma spoke up, "I cannot believe that this is a mere coincidence but..."

"But what?" Ms. Nona inquired when he didn't finish.

Mr. Decuma didn't answer her but posed a different question altogether, "Why not use the Kraken Project to test Pandora?"

"We cannot control Kraken and is the reason it was placed in stasis," Mr. Morta stated, and then he inquired, "How do you propose that we use it to test Pandora?"

"Just evacuate all the workers on Level 159, and Kraken will do the rest for us," Mr. Decuma replied.

Ms. Nona nodded and then Mr. Morta.

"I will set up the test now," Mr. Decuma stated. "I will also make sure that our soldiers keep Pandora and Kraken on Level 159."

* * *

Level 159...

Sometime earlier...

The Pandora Project's view...

Someone's calling my name from the darkness... Someone desperately needs my help... I have to save them, so I slip from sleep into the waking world, and the first thing I notice is that I'm cold. I shiver, and then I hear the voice of a man.

"I'm with her now," he says. "I'll call you later when I know more."

I open my eyes to what looks like a hospital room. The sight doesn't alarm me as if it's the norm, but there's someone who's looking down at me that I don't recognize. He... My mind's a little fuzzy... He must be a doctor, and he looks very worried.

"Drink this," he says. "It's water."

I take the bottled water and thirstily drink it down.

"We need to go," he tells me. "Can you move?"

I don't say anything to him as I try to sit up, and I find that I can't do it on my own, so he moves to my side and assists me to a sitting position. I look around the room and realize I don't know how I got here, but I'm still not upset that I'm in a hospital room as if this place is home. I try to think back beyond the moment I heard someone calling my name. I don't remember anything beyond that moment. It's all fuzzy and then panic sweeps over me like water filling a sinking ship that I'm trapped on. I grip his wrist tightly.

"How did I get here and where is here?" I ask him and pull on his arm so that he'll lean in closer, and then I tell him, "I don't remember my name."

My name had been so clear when I was sleeping. I knew it when the person called it out but now... it's as if I never had a name and that thought is what sends me into panic mode, no, sends me into nuclear-panic mode.

"I would like to answer you in more detail than just to say that it's a side effect of the hyper-stasis chamber, but we need to go and go now. Please try to stand."

The urgency of his voice spurs me to action as I take both his hands and stand wobbly to my feet, leaving behind my questions. I see that I'm wearing some sort of hospital gown a second before my knees buckle underneath me. He catches me before I crumble to the ground and then helps me over to a computer chair, and I sit. He hurries over to the door, peers out the window as if he expects someone to come barging in, and then quickly returns to my side.

"I'm going to inject you with something that should help with the hyper-stasis lag," he tells me as he removes a syringe from his white lab coat pocket. "I didn't inject you right away because there is a side effect of the injection. It's going to make you sick, but the effects should only last for a few minutes." He readies the syringe as he tells me, "You should regain full use of your body again."

He doesn't give me a chance to tell him if I want the injection or not, and he just sticks the needle in my arm. The prick hurts, and I rub my arm. I don't feel any different, but gunfire some distance away from us pulls my attention and his to the door.

"We have to go," he tells me with more urgency than before.

I get to my feet with his help, and we head for the exit. He opens the door, peers outside, and then ushers me into a vacant hallway. He helps me along as we hurriedly walk in a direction he seems to be leading us in. We hear gunfire again coming from behind us, and then we hear this terrifying inhuman scream that's full of anger as something attacks the people with the guns.

"A creature has gotten out," he tells me. "We need to run."

I do my best to start running. I have more feeling in my legs, but the side effect he mentioned earlier comes roaring from my stomach. I push myself away from him and lean against the wall as I upchuck the water all over the floor. I continue vomiting as he rushes over to me.

"I know you're sick, but we can't stop. We've got to keep moving. We can't be caught, but we also don't want to run into whatever is coming. We need to move."

I nod and rush after him as he takes me by the hand. He leads me through several hallways, and then he ups and stops before we round another corner. I glance around the corner and see about twenty armed men and a few women at the other end who are set up behind a barrier. The man pulls me back around the corner and out of sight of the soldiers.

"They're blocking our way of escape," he tells me, and then he peers around the corner. "But they don't seem to be coming after us. Maybe they're here not to capture us but–"

The terrifying inhuman scream we heard before sounds through the hallway again and sends shivers throughout my body.

He tells me, "We need to keep moving. We have one other escape route. Let's hurry before the thing beats us to it."

He takes a firm hold of my wrist, and we run forward, fleeing away from the soldiers and the creature that seems to be pursuing us.

"I don't know your name," I say, and then I ask, "Who are you and why are you helping me?"

"You can call me Xavier," he replies. "R.G. sent me to assist in your escape."

Before I have a chance to ask who R.G. is, the creature screams again. It sounds like it's only a few hallways back.

Xavier says, "We need to run faster... It's gaining on us."

We continue running, and then he drags me into a room with only one way in. He shuts and locks the door.

"Why did we come in here?"

He answers, "There's a small elevator that takes medical waste up to a furnace. There's room enough for you to go up. I just need to clear everything out of it."

He unlocks the door to the small elevator by lifting up on a bar, and then he goes to work removing bags of waste from it as all I can do is stand back and watch while I try not to throw up. Bits and pieces of my memory slowly come back, and I remember someone was taking care of me. Her name... Her name was... I can't seem to remember her name or her face, but I believe this person is very important to me and when I think of her, I get a sense of warmth that wraps around me and makes me feel safe like a child in her mother's arms. I relax a little in this loving blanket, but then this other sensation of fear and horror moves in like a closet monster that has just crawled under my bed. The monster makes me want to flee from the memory, but the motherly arms that are blanketing me want me to remain in the memory so that I'll recall all. Something happened before the hyper-stasis chamber... something I'm afraid to remember. The monster yearns to surface and make it mine once again, but I fight the recollection. I war with myself to keep this buried moment in my life a secret. I begin to lose this battle. The memory starts to become mine again, sending a fright so deep and terrifying through my soul, I feel like I'm suffocating. The memory of the woman, whose name I can't remember, places her hand on my psyche's shoulder, and I turn my attention from the monster to her. The monster is scary, but the woman will be there and help me through the–

"I'm almost done," Xavier tells me, interrupting my thoughts. "Come over here and climb in."

"What about you?"

"There's only room for you," he tells me. "Now listen carefully, and I'll tell you what to do once you reach the furnace room."

The creature screams again, and it's right outside the door. It tries the knob but it's locked, so the creature starts pounding on the door to break it down. My whole being lights up with fear.

"I can't leave you here," I tell Xavier. "That thing will kill you."

"You are the one who is important here," he tells me. "R.G. has a plan for you."

I insist, "Either we both go or we don't go at all!"

The creature outside continues to beat at the door, and then it busts through and rushes in. I freeze as I stare at a monster right out of a horror movie. It stands about seven feet tall with reptile-like features and covered in green scales.

The creature pauses and looks right at me as it says, "Look at you... look how you've changed."

Is this the monster that crept from the closet and is hiding under my bed waiting to devour me?

"Do I know you?" I manage to ask it.

"I'm Kraken," it... she answers. "And you should remember me. I've killed you nearly a dozen times." Kraken looks me over, and then she says, "You don't have a weapon this time. I believe I'll have no problem disposing of you."

Fear sweeps over me, but this time it's not for myself but the man who's standing behind me. I turn and shove Xavier into the small elevator, then shut the door, lock the bar back in place, and then hit the button, sending the elevator up.

"Getting rid of the normal, good idea," Kraken tells me. "I have killed quite a few of them already."

I turn back to her and as if I've done this dozens of dozens of times before, I ask, "Why do you want to kill me?"

"Because you're the Pandora Project," she answers. "There's no other reason."

"Pandora... that's not my name," I tell her. "I'm..."

Most of my memories, including my name, still elude me. I'll have to be patient until they surface but first, I have to survive my encounter with this monster.

Kraken peers at me for a long time, and then she says, "You act like you don't remember me."

"Why do you say that?"

She grins before she slithers out, "You aren't running!"

I notice the red blood covering her long claws and that her body is full of bullet holes.

"You're hurt," I say, and I notice how concerned I sound. Maybe I did know this creature before.

"The soldiers tried to prevent me from coming out and stretching my claws. I took of their blood–" she tells me as she places a hand on one of her wounds, "–and they repaid me in kind." Kraken peers at me again as if she's trying to figure out what I'm thinking, and then she says, "You don't remember me, do you?"

"My memory is a little fuzzy since leaving hyper-stasis," I admit to her. "I get a sense that I know you but–"

"But what?" she asks.

"Fear's not the first thing that comes to mind. It's more like... somehow we're alike. Somehow... we... we both shouldn't be in this place."

She lessens her aggressive stance as she tells me, "Shredding you to bits without you knowing the reason why would be a pity. Why don't you tell me what you do remember? Maybe it will jog more of your memories."

"I don't remember you at all. I do remember being forced into the hyper-stasis chamber and forced into hyper-stasis. There's a reason I was placed there. Someone was trying to prevent me from doing something."

"Go on," she urges me. "What were you trying to do?"

"I..."

That particular detail of my memory is still vague. I do remember the distinct sound of–

"Well," Kraken interrupts my thoughts. "What were you trying to do?"

"I was trying to save someone... no... I still need to save someone. I need to go."

"Memories are fickle things," Kraken tells me as if she knows something about me that she's holding to her own. "Memories make us who we are and glean the path before us. Our distorted and bloody intertwining-past comprises a great deal of who you are, but it seems to be my lot that our story is put on hold here. I believe we'll meet again but only when your story is over."

I'm not sure what she means, so I ask, "Are you letting me go?"

Kraken studies me for a few moments more and then moves away from the door, and I slowly move towards it. I start to head out when Xavier appears in the doorway. He's armed with a pipe, and he's holding a cell phone in his other hand.

"It's okay," I tell him before he starts for Kraken. "She's going to let us go."

He takes a step back and then tells me, "Come on. I found another way out for us."

I turn back to Kraken and question her, "Do you want to come with us?"

"No," she replies. "I'll wait here until you remember everything, and then I'll come find you, and we can finally finish everything."

I nod and leave her to her fate, then I head out with Xavier, and we run through several hallways. I keep pace with him until a burst of memories hits me hard, and I double over. Many images and thoughts from my past slam into me, and it's painful to remember so much at once, but I'm thankful for the return of self.

"What's wrong?" he questions me.

"I remember now..." I tell him as I hold my throbbing head and still manage to smile as my purpose becomes joyfully clear. "I remember everything now." I force myself to straighten as I continue, "My name, my mission, and the person I need to save. We have to hurry before it's too late."

Xavier lifts the cell phone he's been carrying to his ear and talks into it as if he's been on the phone with someone this whole time, "She says she remembers everything. Yes... yes... I understand. I'll make sure she gets out safely." He hangs up the cell phone and questions me, "Now what?"

I look around the hallway and for the first time, I know where I am, so I turn away from him and say, "This way. We need to go this way."

"Before we do that..." he starts, so I turn back to him, and he swings the pipe and hits me in the head.

The hallway whirls around me as I crash to the floor. Xavier drops the pipe and hurries to my side with this look on his face like he hit me harder than he planned to.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you deviate from the path R.G. has set before you," he tells me as he removes another syringe from his lab coat pocket. "This will help reset you, and then you can begin again without any nasty memories hindering your fate."

He injects me, drops the syringe, then removes another device from his pocket, and tells me, "Once I zap you with this, you won't remember anything from the past hour."

I grab at his arms, but I find I don't have the strength to fight him off and that I'm losing consciousness as the head wound pulls me further down into the void I had just woken up from. I claw at him as the purpose I had yearned to remember slowly trickles away.

I plead with him, desperate to hang on to what I just gained, "Don't take my memories... There's something important I need to do and there's someone important I need to save... Please... I can't forget about them, and I can't forget what I need to do. So much depends on me... Please... at least let me save them. Let me..."

"I'm sorry but this needs to be done," Xavier interrupts me, then grabs hold of both my arms, and places the device on the back of my neck.

Everything that I had remembered, the purpose I had finally grab hold of, they all slip away in a brilliance of light, and I remember no more.

End the Pandora Project's view...

Sometime later...

Elsewhere in the Sanctum...

The Chamber...

"The Kraken Project just surrendered to our soldiers," the male supervisor reported to the Council. "It never even engaged the other project."

"What of Pandora?" Mr. Morta inquired.

"Our soldiers believe she escaped from the Sanctum."

Ms. Nona said, "We should have three units of our soldiers give pursuit."

"No need," Mr. Morta spoke. "There are other ways we can test Pandora."

"Are you sure the project is ready?" Mr. Decuma inquired. "It just woke up from hyper-stasis. Maybe we should give it a few more weeks of conditioning before we begin the tests."

"No, launch the Pandora Project," Mr. Morta instructed. "Let us see what it can do on its own."

* * *

6:04 P.M...

In another part of the city...

Scattered streetlights partially lit an abandoned industrial district, and the wind howled, blowing through overgrown weeds and chilled the air of the blue-gray night. Over the years, a few trees and plants adapted to the limited artificial light along with a large variety of weeds. Nocturnal creatures; rats, mice, owls, and cats ruled the alleys and parks of the megacity of Noir.

A black sedan slowly rolled down the street, and its headlights lit up the dark road. The vehicle stopped at the curb a few hundred yards away from Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse, then the four doors of the vehicle opened, and five men in brown suits exited the car. Each of them wore polarized spectacles with black mirror-like lenses, and the spectacles hid more than their eyes. Four of them removed a silver Beretta from their shoulder holster. The fifth man wore a Coffin Handled Bowie tucked in a belt, and the man tapped the hilt eager to draw the knife. Eerily in one accord, they turned their heads and stared at the rusted toy building as they awaited orders. A parking lot stood between them and their target.

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

"All right people, let's stay focused," the male supervisor shouted as he and the female supervisor walked up and down the line of workstations. "This is the hour we've been waiting for!"

"Has the Pandora Project been located?" Mr. Morta asked in a deep voice as he twirled a gold ring on his dark brown finger.

"Yes, one of our best operatives, Argus, is watching Pandora," the smaller man, Mr. Decuma answered as he smoothed his hand down a bright orange tie.

"Good... Good..." Mr. Morta said. "What does the operative have to report?"

Some distance from Etna Toys...

A man with shoulder-length blond hair wearing a black trench coat peered through specialized binoculars. Argus had positioned himself in an alley a block from the abandoned toy warehouse to watch Pandora. He noted the sedan across the street and the five men, and then he reported them to the Sanctum over a cell phone.

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

The male supervisor handed an H.H.C. to the third member of the Council.

Ms. Nona frowned as she looked over it, thinning her cherry-red lips which contrasted her powdery white skin. Her frame was the smallest of the members. She stated, "We have received a second report from our operative." She scanned the report a second time, disconcerted over the news and then added, "Argus has spotted five bio-mechas, and they are not Proto-Androids but a new model called Un-Men."

"Un-Men?" Mr. Morta spoke, not as surprised as his female counterpart. "Only one department within the corporation is developing this line of bio-mechas." Disappointed over the untimely intrusion, he exhaled loudly and then stated, "The Factory has started their Un-Men tests. I had hoped they would wait."

"You knew it might happen?" Mr. Decuma questioned as he rubbed his finger over a silver tie pin of the word "Fate".

Mr. Morta nodded as he replied, "Yes, it was only a matter of time but it means–"

"It means–" Ms. Nona interrupted, "–that the Factory has decided to go against the wishes of the Council."

"How dare they!" Mr. Decuma uttered, and then he slammed his palms on the table as he stood and declared, "We must do something!"

"But what?" Ms. Nona questioned.

"More importantly," Mr. Morta started. "What are their plans for our child-like Pandora?"

Back at Etna Toys...

The wind kicked up sand and debris as the five men, the Un-Men, stood by the sedan. Their Internal Link or I-Link, not only connected them to the Factory but to each other and with the I-Link, they could think and move as one. They shut the sedan's doors and simultaneously walked toward the warehouse across the parking lot, but the one with the Bowie paused and turned, spotting a heat signature. The heat signature was of a human hiding in the darkness of an alley that was across the street from it, and the Un-Man could tell the human was watching them. The Un-Man's I-Link blazed orange through the right lens of its polarized spectacles as it processed the data.

Argus moved his hand to the M4 assault rifle strapped over his shoulder as he tensed, not knowing what it would do. Argus had encountered a Proto-android before, and it had nearly killed him, but he had no idea what this new model was capable of. He decided to stay on the safe side and make it clear he wouldn't interfere with their mission, so he moved his hand away from the assault rifle and waited for its reaction. The Un-Man smirked at him, continued toward Etna, and joined its brethren. Argus was relieved it worked and grabbed a hold of the M4 as he moved across the street to continue the surveillance of the project.

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

"The matter is confirmed. The Factory–" Ms. Nona emphasized the next word, "–has gone against our wishes." She looked at the larger man and questioned him, "What is our next move?"

"Analyze and record," Mr. Morta answered. "Our agenda has not changed. The Un-Men will test Pandora for us."

Within the dark Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse and among boxes of discarded toys and debris, a cot had been set up, and a lamp on a round end table stood beside it and lit up the area in a dim glow. The woman, Pandora, who was in her early thirties slept on the cot. She had a shaven head, and the gash on her forehead which Xavier had unintentionally given her, bled. The trickle of blood flowed past her brow, ran down the side of her face, and dripped to a pillow. The crimson liquid spotted the white cotton case. No other bedding covered the old and worn mattress.

She wore a white V neck T-shirt, gray-black pants, and black hiking shoes. Her eyes rapidly moved underneath her closed eyelids as she dreamed, and her lips moved as she talked within the dream but there was no sound. Her inaudible narration continued until she spoke out loud, "A love that will not die."

Her breathing increased, and her arms and legs jerked in mock movement as she envisioned herself running. Sweat speckled her forehead, and her face grimaced in determination as her mind replayed a memory; it was one that would mark her future with sorrow. Three shots rang out in the dream, then the horrible recollection caused her to scream, and she sat up and frantically searched the building as a panicked feeling urged her to flee.

The Pandora Project's view...

My heart thunders in my chest as I notice I'm alone and not in any immediate danger, so I calm down a little and remember part of the dream. I was running, but there's something I can't remember. Whatever it is, I think it's important enough to recall, so I strain to grasp at the fleeting images, but it's too late. They're gone.

My head hurts, I'm very thirsty, and I feel a little queasy as I examine the old empty building more closely. Parts of teddy bears are scattered about a stack of boxes, and a layer of dust clings to everything like the building and machinery haven't been used in years. I remember more of the dream, not the images but the urgency I felt within it, and a sense that there's something I'm supposed to do or someone I'm supposed to help. The remnants of the dream fade, and I mentally try to grasp for a clue, but it's like trying to capture a dark phantom. The sensations of fear and anxiety remain with me along with the sound of the three shots, but nothing else of the dream remains and that bothers me. Was I pursuing someone or was someone chasing me? Was I the predator or the prey?

I remain on the cot a little longer, hoping something will resurface and tell me how– I gasp and put a hand to my mouth as I realize something that deeply unsettles me, and the revelation frightens me more than not knowing what happened in the dream. I realize I don't know who I am. I can't remember anything past the moment I woke in this warehouse on this cot. I know I should be doing something, but I can't... I can't remember anything. Smothering terror oozes over me like the Blob from the classic horror movie, and its gelatinous glob eats away at my presence of mind, adding my frightened essence to itself. It'll do me no good to panic, and I mentally spray frigid air on the growing Blob, taking back my sanity from its frozen and cracked form.

My head continues to hurt, so I touch my temple, feel a warm wet substance, and examine my bloody fingers. Did I hit my head or did someone hurt me? The thought that someone might have hurt me makes me a little on edge, so I move to the side of the cot, thinking of going to a hospital when I notice a second table; it's square and small and has a few items on it. I pick up a business card with an image of a flaming bird, flip it over, and find a barcode on its back. I set it down, pick up a note, and read it aloud.

"Katharine..."

I study the name, wondering if the name belongs to me. It doesn't sound familiar, so I continue reading, "Katharine, you must not fail. This is your last chance to redeem yourself. I know you can complete your mission, my dearest Kat. I am counting on you."

The note's signed by R.G.

I fold the paper, and then along with the card, I stuff them in my back pocket and decide I need to find help for the wound on my head in case it's serious. I spot a door and start to stand and move for it when a flash of a violent memory makes me turn my attention back to a metal case on the table. Why did I ignore this item? I stretch my hand for it. Why does my heart pound in dread when I reach for it? I pause before grabbing it as a sinking feeling sweeps over me, and I pull my hand back and decide it's best to ignore the enigma. I look at the last object on the table and pick it up; it's a small silver box shaped like a treasure chest and has a small raised star the size of a dime on its lid. I examine the box and then carefully open it, and its tune sweetly rings in my ears. The tune reminds me of the opening of a classical piece, but whose? Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart come to mind, but the piece doesn't seem to belong to either of them, and then I realize I'm wrong; it has elements from each like it's a mixture of several openings playing on top of each other. I close my eyes, letting the music sink in as a calming solace sweeps over me, and the urgency to leave the building slips away as I focus on the tune. While I'm in this state of relaxation and before I'm completely engulfed by it, I wonder about a few things. How do I know all those composers' names and that the piece is Ginn L. Irynkissgthie's Unfinished Melody? Why do I know some things but my own name's lost to me?

Unfinished Melody is short; it plays about thirty seconds, and then it starts over and plays over and over in a hypnotic flow. I gaze at the music box, hearing nothing but the haunting arrangement of compound sounds. My fear and anxiety vanish, and my body relaxes to an absolute state of nirvana as the tune lulls me into a trance. I slowly closed my eyes and enter a peaceful place within my mind. The place is a subconscious oasis to the confusion and dread I experienced before the melody. The tune has a calming effect on me and as I sit there in an ecstatic state, sounds outside of the building become louder and clearer. The wind howls, rustling the leaves of trees and overgrown bushes. A moth repeatedly taps the glass of a street light drawn to the artificial flame as four car doors slam. A cricket chirps, and an owl swoops, landing on a squeaking mouse.

lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

I open my eyes as my heart thumps so loud I can hear it, and I experience an overwhelming sense of hysteria. I put a hand on my chest, not in pain but in horror as I realize something's wrong. I close the music box, place it in my left thigh pocket, and search the building and find it's still empty. I know I'm in danger, but from what? I glance at the case I ignored, and a deep dread lifts in me like a leviathan rising from the ocean's abyss. I freeze as I stare at the metal container; it's like I know what's inside, but my mind refuses to grasp the knowledge and instead, I want to run away from it like it's a maniac chasing me. I disregard my apprehension about the case and turn my attention back to my pounding heart and the urgency screaming at me to leave. The longer I wait to act, the more anxious and terrified I become. I feel like a deer standing in an open meadow, sensing a predator prowling towards me through the tall grass, and I fear I'll be attacked at any moment and from any direction. I get off the cot and start to run when the lamp beside me shatters, and the surrounding area plunges into darkness as pieces of the lamp ping to the concrete floor. I shriek, realizing someone shot at me, and I dive as more bullets whizz overhead. I turn the table over for cover, the case falls, knocking itself open, and a metal object slides from it.

Far from the cot, light from the street dimly shows through Etna's dusty windows. The light provides limited illumination within the building and within its radius, I see a black gun. I gasp, staring at the instrument of death that's an arm's length away. The weapon's familiar to me and yet it seems like some horrendous alien creature that has traveled from a distant planet to wreak havoc on my world. The monster will devour me if it gets a chance, so I scoot a few feet away from the gun. I would escape its psychological jaws trying to sink their terror-inducing teeth into me, but there are other things in the building I have to worry about, so I slowly peek over the table and spot two armed men.

End the Pandora Project's view...

She didn't realize they were actually bio-mechas, and as far as Kat knew, they were ordinary men trying to kill her. They prepared to fire again, and her heart thumped harder as if it would tear through her chest.

lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

Unknown to her, the muscle coursed artificial adrenaline through her blood, and the synthetic hormone reacted with her body by increasing her heart rate, dilating her pupils, and elevating her blood sugar. Horrified by what was going on within her body and the men shooting at her, she put her hand to her chest again, realizing her heart wasn't acting naturally. She wondered if she was having a heart attack.

The two Un-Men moved toward her position after calculating the best way to kill her. They aimed their weapons at her position with only one goal in mind.

One of them stated in a monotone voice, "Target acquired, moving forward with termination."

Chapter Two

The Rogue

6:43 P.M...

The Sanctum...

Within the dark Chamber...

Desk lamps lit up the faces of the analysts and the supervisors as they observed Pandora's data with interest. The project was very important to the Council and so it was very important to them.

"Lower the center screen," Mr. Morta commanded from the middle of the room.

A screen four by eight-foot lowered long ways from the ceiling, and it positioned above the Council and in the center of their table. The screen could be viewed from both sides, and it displayed an outline of a female body. Each of the major organs was visible on the screen and had bio-data streaming beside them, and the heart had such a large amount of information streaming beside it that the data overlapped the other organs. An alarm sounded within the Chamber and stopped, and at the top of the bio-screen in bold red letters blinked "First Evolvement Achieved". Prattle between the analysts started as charged enthusiasm filled the Chamber, and the supervisors quickly quieted the frivolous talk, knowing their employers would be irritated with them.

"Good... Good..." Mr. Morta said. "Pandora has achieved Ginn's Alpha Phase."

"You mean Arcamedes' First Evolvement," Mr. Decuma corrected.

Mr. Morta questioned, "Does it matter by which name we call it? It is the same thing. It is still the beginning of Pandora's metamorphosis."

"True, but will Pandora take the path Ginn laid out or will Pandora take Arcamedes'?" Ms. Nona asked. "What Pandora decides to do will determine which name the stages go by."

"Until the path is clear–" Mr. Morta started, "–both men's descriptions can be used." He studied the center screen's data on his laptop, and then he spoke, "Pandora's first stage is the ability to sense the presence of bio-mechas as predicted by both men, and Pandora's body is preparing itself to combat the Un-Men. Look at the subject's bio-electricity. The levels are high enough to trigger the Beta Phase."

"Yes," Ms. Nona said. "The genetically altered epinephrine hormone we created for Pandora dubbed Ultra-Epi acts as a supercharged neurotransmitter. If Pandora can reach the next stage, it should have no difficulty dispatching the Un-Men."

" 'If' is the keyword," Mr. Decuma spoke as he tapped across an H.H.C. touch screen and pulled up reports from their operative. "Argus details that Pandora has not responded to the Un-Men's presence." Mr. Decuma turned to his laptop as he stated a question, "Can Pandora achieve the Second Evolvement?" He typed on the keyboard, pulling up more reports. "Pandora seems to be withstanding the conditioning." He stated with concern, "If it does not react soon, the subject will die and the Pandora Project will end."

"Patience," Mr. Morta said. "We did not blindly pick the subject. Wait and see what it is capable of."

Back at Etna Toys...

Katharine's view...

My heart revs like the pistons in a race car as I hide behind the overturned table. Why are the men trying to kill me? Did I do something to them? I glance at the gun lying on the floor beside its open case not too far from me. Or am I a wanted person?

The men fire again, one of the bullets grazes my left shoulder, and the pain triggers a latent instinct within me. I scurry over to the gun, grab a magazine sitting in its case, and insert it into the Beretta with mechanical precision as if I had been programmed to do so without conscious thought. I pull the sliding block, it makes a metal clicking sound, and then I wildly fire six shots over the cot and miss. I freeze at hearing the men's guns cocking and then something inside me clicks like a switch.

A bombardment of information assaults my mind like someone's forcibly downloading all this information right into my brain. Details I shouldn't know, I couldn't possibly know if I was normal, invade my thoughts. My body is changing, and it's scaring the crap out of me but for some reason, I know what's happening to me. The electrical field or e-field of my body changes, and the impulses that would normally travel down the optic nerve surges and causes a split feed. Part of this electricity rushes across my irises and gives my eyes a blue-electrical glow. I can't see this happening and yet, I can see this happening to me. It doesn't hurt, it actually feels good for some reason, but it still scares me. I want to lift my hands and cover both of my eyes like they're on fire to prevent the charged energy from escaping my body. I want to do this, but I don't. Instead, I fire four times like I'd been born with a gun in my hand. I hit one man in the forehead and throat and the other one in the heart and lung. It's like a trained soldier has taken over my body, and I don't realize what I'm doing till it's over. The one I shot in the head collapses to his knees and falls back as the other one fires at me again.

I move back to the overturned table, wondering if the one man's wearing a bulletproof vest. I take a deep breath, rise, return fire, and the bullet hits the second man in the head. He also falls to the floor. Silence follows, and it's a maddening silence that clears my head, lets me think, and lets me realize. My fear turns to uncertainty and uncertainty to self-loathing. I slump to the floor, lean against the table, and bow my head. I can't believe I'm the one who committed the violent actions against those men. I stare at the gun on my lap, trying to distance myself from the incident and fail. Why am I good at killing? Why did I feel nothing for the men I murdered? I put a hand to my mouth as a little bile comes up. I swallow, forcing the bile back down my throat, and it burns all the way, searing my guilt into my soul. Is this the kind of person I am? Am I an emotionless killer?

End Katharine's view...

Within the Chamber...

Mr. Morta cheered, "There!"

Analysts and supervisors high-fived each other.

Mr. Morta looked at the center screen as "Second Evolvement Achieved" brightly flashed from it, and then he said, "The Beta Phase of Pandora's metamorphosis has successfully been reached." He reviewed a report from Argus. "Our operative has seen Pandora's extraordinary shooting ability, and he believes when Pandora is in the Beta Phase, it cannot miss. It has far exceeded our expectations for the Beta Phase. We believed Pandora would have an aptness for terminating bio-mechas but this..."

"Yes," Ms. Nona agreed. "It will be a useful skill."

Mr. Decuma interjected, "If it is true."

"The data supports it and Argus witnessed it," Mr. Morta stated and then inquired, "What more do you need to believe?"

Mr. Decuma replied, "More data perhaps or–"

"I want to know," Ms. Nona interrupted, excited about the outcome, and then she questioned, "Do you think Pandora can reach the Gamma Phase today?"

"I believe we are jumping ahead," Mr. Morta replied. "There are still three Un-Men remaining."

"Yes, and does Pandora have skill or is it mere luck?" Mr. Decuma asked. "More than half of the Un-Men remain. Can it defeat them as easily as the first two?"

At Etna Toys...

Katharine's view...

Leaves and other debris blow in through the open front door as I stand and make my way on shaky legs to the men I've gunned down. I still feel queasy as if at any moment I'll spill my guts all over the floor as guilt continues to shame me to pain and when I reach the men's side, I find a black oil like liquid oozing from the hole in their heads. They aren't human, they're... I remove the polarized spectacles of one, revealing not fleshy eyes but glassy robotic ones. The colored orbs shudder as power surges through its body, the spheres bug out, and its hands gnarl with the mechanical pangs of death. I stare at its eyes. The red rings with black centers show no spark of life. They're merely windows to the soulless.

Relief pours over me as I realize they're not human. I didn't kill anyone, and I'm not a murderer but... Did I know it before I shot them or am I still a cold-blooded killer? My queasiness eases up a little, but my confusion remains as I realize they're bio-mechas, model Un-Men. Why do I know this fact when I can't remember the simplest thing like my name? I search them, find a spare magazine on each of them, and place the ammo in my right thigh pocket.

lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

I sense more bio-mechas and this time, I know their location. It's like I'm connected to them somehow. Three of them walk the grounds outside less than fifteen feet away from me, and they're making their way in here. I frantically search the plant for an escape as the Un-Men split up, and one of them walks through a side entrance. The Un-Man fires at me as I run and take cover behind a row of machinery. Sparks fly as bullets ricochet off of metal, and I cover my head. During the attack, I lose my concentration and the position of the other two, so I blindly dash for the front door as more bullets whizz by. I return fire and hit my mark, and then I continue to the door. I glance back at the third Un-Man as it lies face down. I try to regain the position of the last two Un-Men, but they suddenly appear in the doorway in front of me. I try to stop my forward momentum, but I can't and run into one. It's like running into a wall, and I bounce and fall backward and then with speed that can't be normal, I fire twice before landing on my side. I strike the floor hard and knock the wind out of me. The first shot disables the Un-Man with the gun, but the one with the Bowie sidesteps my second shot with electrical speed as if the Un-Man anticipated my actions before I took them. I inhale, sucking in needed air as I hold my hurting ribs. The Un-Man draws its large knife and stares at me curiously. None of the others had done that, and it creeps me out to the point that I'm more afraid of it than any of the others. The dot of light I see in its sunglasses glows brighter and brighter until it appears as if half the Un-Man's face is burning. I'm looking at some sort of demon!

"The Pandora Project..." the Un-Man sings out, not in the usual monotone of its brethren. The orange colored dot-light changes to a deep red, a blood-red, and the Un-Man gazes at me as if probing my soul. "Pandora..." Its voice is sadistically mellow and toys with me, making me feel violated. "Pandora, I have found you." The Un-Man smiles as if it takes pleasure in the hunt, and it states, "Target acquired." It takes a step towards me, and I scurry backward on my hands and feet as the Un-Man says, "Moving forward with termination."

It lunges for me with the blade and misses as I roll out of the way. The Un-Man's blade strikes the concrete, and the force cuts into the floor. I rise to one knee some distance from it, aim, and pull the trigger. Nothing happens! The gun's empty! I pull the trigger, again and again, hoping a bullet will magically materialize and fire. The Un-Man slowly stands from its kneeling position, takes two quick steps towards me, and kicks me in the ribs. I grab my side and hurry to my feet, pushing through the pain as the Un-Man slashes towards me. I leap back and defensively lift my hands, and the blade cuts across my left forearm. I cry out in pain as blood splatters to the gray floor as the Un-Man finishes its swipe.

The Un-Man wipes the red plasma from the blade with its fingers, and its face beams as if relishing in the combat.

"The Pandora Project," it whispers, fooling with me as if I'm some insect it's going to squash. "Pan... dora..."

The Un-Man attacks again with the blade, and the air screams with each slash as if the knife cuts open its airy belly and spills out its gaseous guts.

The Un-Man coos, "Pandora, I have found you."

I barely evade the attacks and then run, rushing deeper into the dark building. I'm so afraid... I want someone to save me. I don't want to be here. Someone help me... I continue running as dread molests my entire being. I have to escape this nightmare, so I keep looking around as I tell myself it's because I'm searching for a way out, but I can't fool myself. I'm hoping someone will appear. I'm hoping someone will be my Superman or Lassie, but no one comes to my rescue. I'm on my own, and as much as I don't want to be on my own, the fact still chases after me intent to destroy me as much as the Un-Man wishes me harm. I keep fleeing as I eject the empty magazine from the Beretta, drop it to the floor, and pull one from my pocket. I insert the new one in the magazine well, chamber a round, and fire twice behind me, and the Un-Man continues after me, ducking the shots. Is this what I was dreaming about? I'm not the predator but the prey?

End Katharine's view...

Within the Chamber...

Mr. Morta said, "Not bad for the opening test. Pandora achieved the first two phases. It delivered uncanny accuracy with the weapon we provided and successfully sensed the bio-mechas and once it has achieved all the phases, Pandora will be the perfect weapon." He drummed his fingers together as he ordered, "Set up another test so we may analyze the range of its gifts and send Pandora down the path to perfection."

Mr. Decuma nodded and typed up the documentation for the next test, and then he asked the male supervisor standing next to him, "Are the new reports on the project ready?"

"They'll be right over," he answered and then went back over to the analysts and within a minute, the supervisor approached, stating, "Here are the reports you requested on her, Mr. Decuma."

"Her?" the Council said in unison.

"Yes, her," the supervisor answered. He was taken aback by their reaction and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"We do not refer to Pandora as she or her," Mr. Decuma reprimanded. "It is an experiment and is to be referred to as such." In disdain, he added, "To say she or her in reference implies Pandora has rights." Mr. Decuma made it quite clear as he stated, "It has none."

"Of course, Mr. Decuma," the supervisor apologized as he handed him the H.H.C. "My error. It won't happen again."

He returned to monitoring the analysts.

Ms. Nona scanned the bio-data on the large center screen and then said, "There seems to be no adverse reaction to the Ultra-Epi, though, complications could arise in the future. Also, Pandora's body is not rejecting the adrenal gland we genetically altered to create the supercharged epinephrine." She made a few notes. "We will have to monitor Pandora for any palpitations, tachycardia, anxiety, headaches, tremors, acute pulmonary edema, and hypertension."

Mr. Morta stated, "We will see if it was wise to alter the gland instead of administering injections."

Mr. Decuma finished setting up the test, and then he said, "The Factory will be more than happy to assist us in the next field trial as one of our sister departments in the Sphinx Corporation."

"The fact that they are developing the Un-Men as their new line of bio-mecha assassins does not hurt us either," Ms. Nona added.

"Yes," Mr. Morta agreed. "The Factory's earlier line of bodyguards was very profitable for the Sphinx Corporation, and now the Factory hopes to improve their power and standing by releasing an unmatched line of bio-mecha assassins. Pandora is an ideal forum to refine the Un-Men's programming." He smiled, pleased with the project, and then he added, "With Pandora's help, the Factory will be able to create the perfect killing machines, and in turn, the Factory will help us test Pandora and help Pandora achieve its purpose. The one seen by Ginn that will–"

"Or Arcamedes," Mr. Decuma interrupted. "We still do not know the path it will take."

Ms. Nona stated, "You are correct and only time will reveal its path."

The female supervisor handed the councilwoman a report, and Ms. Nona said, "There seems to be a problem. Pandora has been unable to disable one of the Un-Men." Ms. Nona re-checked the report, and then she stated, "It is a Type Four model."

"Terminate the test," Mr. Morta ordered, sitting upright. "Request that the Factory recall its bio-mecha. Pandora destroyed four of the five Un-Men. It has done exceptionally well."

"The Factory reports a problem. The Un-Man has ignored its recall," Mr. Decuma relayed. "It seems they have a rogue on their hands."

"A rogue, you say?" Mr. Morta questioned. "The Un-Man must be exceptional in its own right to have survived this long against Pandora. The very fact of it is most interesting."

"Yes, like I said a rogue," Mr. Decuma answered and then asked, "Shall I have Argus assist the project?"

"No, not at this time," Mr. Morta replied, and then he calmly folded his hands, leaned back in the chair, and spoke, "Pandora must learn to survive on its own. We not only need to develop Pandora's untested body but its young undeveloped mind and character. What better way to develop character than to face adversity? In the past, great warriors went up against other great warriors to test their mettle. Strength and endurance grow through conflict as steel sharpens steel, and so the Rogue will be Pandora's adversary."

Chapter Three

Kimberly Griffin

About one year later...

32 A.D.C...

October 12...

Tuesday...

7:59 P.M...

The Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office towered over the streets of the Hellenistic Sector, Business Vicinage. When the city was created, the Corporate Senate, which was made up of corporations from all over the world, divided Noir into hundreds of sectors, and each sector was owned and governed by one of the corporations. The sectors were then divided by each corporation into smaller areas called vicinages. Sphinx owned and ruled the Hellenistic Sector. Each corporation policed its sector with its own corporate military. The world had its own civil police force which dealt in non-corporate issues like assaults, murders by non-Closers, and anything else the corporate military kicked to them. Authority always belonged to the corporations.

The Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office was one of many massive buildings in Noir. It was a mile high, and half a mile across and back. It stood as a giant in the city and dominated as a Titan before the age of Zeus. A woman in her late thirties sat alone within a waiting room on Level 150 and in her left hand, she held a keychain of a pink bunny rabbit.

Kimberly's view...

I stare at the keychain as I rub my thumb over a worn spot on the rabbit's cheery face. This little metal object is something that I must hold on to. I have to burn into my subconscious what happens when I mess up even just a bit. I must always be professional when it comes to my job. I must keep this keychain as I must keep my silent vow.

I tuck the keychain in my pocket, and then I rake a few blonde strands behind my ear. I look at a man's picture on the cover of the Conglomerate World magazine lying on a coffee table. The headline reads, "Topa, Climbing the Ladder of Success?"

I shift my position on the light brown couch and glance at the secretary. The older woman types on a keyboard. I impatiently sigh and turn my gaze to a few landscape paintings decorating the open room's white walls. Their purpose is to soothe those who wait, and they're supposed to take one's mind away from the stresses of the day. The paintings incite no such solace within me, and I sigh again and this one leaks from my lips drowning in weariness. I turn to the secretary as the woman answers the phone on her desk.

The secretary hangs up, clears her throat, and says, "Ms. Griffin, your father..." The secretary catches her own slip and then corrects herself by saying, "I'm sorry, I mean the Chairman will see you now."

I nod, too tired to be irritated, straighten my aqua pantsuit, and head for the huge corner office. The Chairman's position ranks third under the President and Vice President and since Sphinx is one of the more powerful corporations in the world, that makes my father a very influential man with vast resources and global connections. I pause outside his office, mustering up enough strength to hide my vexation for being called in right after I had flown back in from a job. I just returned from the Light Side of the planet, and I really just want to go home and sleep. I take a deep breath, silencing my anger, then open the door, and walk in.

Two of the walls within the office consist of ten-foot-high windows, and the office's bright lights reflect off the windows like mirrors. The Chairman's desk sits off from the corner, giving him even more presence of authority like a king on a throne. I close the door. He glances up from his computer and stares at me with his light blue eyes as I enter. He's in his late sixties but looks much younger around fifty, and he wears a dark gray suit.

"Kimberly, good to see you," my father says, stands, walks over to me, and kisses me on the cheek. I don't return his affection and almost turn from him like I'm repulsed. My father tries not to show his disappointment as he motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk. I sit as he returns to his seat, and then he questions me, "Are you still living in the apartment off of West 1000 Avenue?"

I'm uneasy being in his office, but I bear the discomfort. I notice his black hair's graying slightly, but everything else about him looks the same. I answer, "Yes."

He waits a moment before continuing. I guess he's hoping I'll say something more and when I only stare at him, my father asks me, "Are you seeing anyone?"

I don't answer him. As if I have time for a boyfriend but that's none of his business. Actually, anything that's personal is no longer his business.

He sees my glare and quickly moves to the next question. I hope he's feeling as awkward as I do sitting here like we're some sort of family. My father asks, "How's work?"

I answer still feeling a bit fatigued, "Fine. I finished a Closing in Moscow three days ago." My harsh and annoyed attitude softens for a few moments as I put my hand in my pocket and grasp the bunny rabbit keychain.

My father must notice the change in my demeanor, and he starts to ask, "Are you all..?"

I glare at him, stifling his question as my vexation returns, and I release the keychain and pull my hand out of my pocket. I'm getting too upset about everything, so I let my training take over. I calm all the emotions that seem to be flinging about in the muck and once I do that, I try to treat him like I would an employer. It works for a few seconds, but then I glance at the back of a picture frame sitting on his desk, and my anger returns.

"You didn't call me in here because you suddenly have an interest in my life."

He says, "Right, to business then."

My father hands me an envelope, and I opened it and see a brass key inside.

"It's to your mother's hope chest," he tells me as he picks up the picture frame. "How you look like her?"

My father sets the frame back down. I can almost see the happy memories he must be thinking about. I see them too, but then bitterness rises in the back of my mind, and the memories fade.

He tells me, "I know she would have wanted you to have the chest. I've set up delivery."

"Why are you giving me the hope chest? Is it because it's close to the anniversary of when mom left?"

"No."

"So why now?"

He doesn't understand my meaning, and he repeats, "Why now?"

"All these years since mom–" I pause, trying not to cry. "–since mom abandoned us, you've never wanted to talk about her and her name became taboo around you, so why now after two decades? Why give me her hope chest? What has changed?" I grow suspicious of his actions. "I know it's not our relationship, so what is it? Are you going to talk about why she left us?"

He replies, "I know I was wrong. When she left me... When she left us I was devastated. It hurt me so much I wanted to forget her. I never thought how it might affect you or that you needed me, and for that, I'm sorry."

"Sorry," I repeat and then laugh. "Perfect, now everything's fine." I stand and start for the door as I add sarcastically, "I'm glad I came."

"Do you have to leave? I thought we might have a late dinner and talk."

I walk halfway to the door, turn, and answer him, "I can't. I have a Closing tomorrow and need to get some rest."

"A Closing? Who?"

"Topa."

"Yes, I know him."

"Thought you did," I tell him as I start to turn toward the door, pause, and say, "It's kind of sad."

"What is?"

"Our relationship, my life, you name it, but most of all that you were the one who got me into–" My next words slither from my mouth, "–my profession." I fist my hands as I question, "What kind of father has his daughter trained to be an..?"

I glare at him too angry to finish and this time, he has nothing to say. I continue to the door.

My father stands and speaks after me, "You should take some time off. You're looking a little tired. Maybe buy yourself a pet to keep you company. You can't be happy living all alone."

"You have been spying on me!" I accuse him after I pause at the door. I start to say something but decide against it and walk through the door.

Mr. Griffin's view...

I sit down after my daughter leaves, then I face the picture and repeat my earlier phrase, "How you look like your mother?" I push my chair back and command, "Lights dim."

The room darkens, and I turn in my seat, staring out a window at Noir's skyline. I gaze at the Dry Clouds as they loom over the dark city, and I speak in nearly a whisper, "I wish you were here, Theresa. Our daughter needs you."

* * *

Kimberly's view...

I drive my red VX Corvette into the parking garage of the Nexus Apartments. The small forty story building sits on the corner of West 1000 Avenue and Knot Street in the Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage. I exit the vehicle and grab a bag of groceries from my trunk, and then I take an empty elevator to the thirty-first floor and walk down a deserted hall to Apartment H.

Sometimes I...

I command in a clear voice, "Door, unlock."

"Voice recognized as Kimberly Griffin," the Apartment Computer System states. "Opening door."

The apartment door slides sideways, and then I walk into the small entry and command, "Door lock."

The door slides shut and locks as I go into the kitchen. The lights automatically flicker on in each room I enter as the Apartment Computer System or A.C.S. detects my presence.

"Welcome back, Ms. Griffin," A.C.S. states in a female computer voice. "The apartment's temperature is set at seventy-eight degrees Fahrenheit. Lights are set at eighty-five percent brightness. Would you like to make any adjustments at this time?"

"Yes, A.C.S. It's a bit warm. Drop the temperature to seventy-six, and I could use more lighting so change the brightness to ninety-five percent."

"Making changes now."

The air conditioner kicks on, and the lights brighten as I set down the bag and lay the keychain beside it on the kitchen counter. I put both of my hands on the inky-black surface, lean against it, and tilt my head down.

Sometimes I wish...

My blonde hair falls forward, covering the side of my face as I peer at my reflection in the marble. For Ares' sake! My life's so tedious! I lean back. All I have is routine. I start to unpack the bag and glance around the dark lifeless room, and it's quiet in a gloomy way. I look at one of three windows in the apartment and notice a dead Transgenic Vine sitting on the kitchen window sill.

Great, just great! I forgot to ask the manager to water it while I was gone; it's too bad A.C.S. doesn't have a watering system for plants. I walk over to the vine, pick up the pot, and several brown leaves float to the floor. I move to the trash can and press the step, and it flips up a stainless steel lid. The brittle brown plant falls out of its container as I drop the pot in the waste, and dirt spills, exposing the vine's roots. I stare at the dead plant. Can't I keep one thing alive? I release the lid and walk away from the trash. Or are Closings all I'm good at?

I return to my groceries. I put the eggs and milk in the refrigerator, put the dry goods in the pantry, then place a stainless steel kettle full of water on the burner, and turn it on high. I reach up into the cupboard, remove a white cup and saucer, and place them on the counter. I walk to a drawer, open it, and grab a spoon. Is this really my life? I notice my reflection in the spoon's curved surface. My life's mundane and lonely.

Sometimes I wish...

I place a single tea bag in the solitary cup and a slice of lemon on the saucer.

Sometimes I wish...

I glance at the answering machine as the water starts to boil. The number on the machine reads zero messages; it's the number of my friends and the same number of my acquaintances. The kettle whistles, and I remove it from the burner, pour hot water into the cup, and steam rolls up from the liquid. Shouldn't my life be different? Wasn't I meant for more than this... this wretched life as a Closer? I wish I had... No, it's better if I dare not think it and dare not hope it.

I grab a remote from the counter and aim the device at the wall. I click on a fifty-inch TV that hangs over a fireplace, and then I gaze at the picture from the open kitchen. The evening news is on, showing footage of a small office building on fire. I move behind a black leather couch and watch the blaze and out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the first door in the hallway, walk to the room, start to command it to unlock, but stop myself. Sometimes... I pull on my left earlobe. I wish...

The spare bedroom has remained lock since I first closed it. I stored my mom's belongings in it. My bedroom the master bedroom is down the hall. I return to the kitchen, grab the remote, and look at the TV, and an anchorwoman, Linda Harvey with NBS (Noir Broadcasting Station) reads a report.

"The Corporate Senate will be meeting later this week to vote on the proposed bill for a sales tax increase. The quarter-cent raise will bring in much-needed money for the planet's civil defense and continue funding Research Project Clean Air. Analysts are predicting the bill will be voted in." Linda Harvey pauses. "In other news, Dr. Robert Seeker the foremost expert on the Dry Clouds problem will be heading out to Antarctica to–"

I turn off the TV, plunging the room back into silence. Enough with the news. My life is pathetic enough without having to hear about someone else's miserable existence. I pick up the saucer and cup, walk to a small round table, sit, and stare out the window. The Dry Clouds entomb the starry sky, leaving the night dismal and bleak just like my life. I pick up a clear plastic container of honey that's in the shape of a bear, pop open the yellow lid, and squirt a smiley face on the spoon with the golden sugar.

I whisper a phrase my mom used to say, "Fly... fly away, sad, sad day."

I stir the honey in my Orange Pekoe, remove the tea bag, place it on the saucer, and stare at the now warm brown liquid. The phrase used to cheer me up but not anymore. I arch my head back, looking at the ceiling. Hades... What a life I have?

I open my hand and gaze at a star burned into my right palm. The only constant in my life seems to be it; it has been with me for nearly two decades, and I can't remember where I got the burn. I make a fist and open my hand again. Oh for Ares' sake! Look at me! The only thing I have to look forward to is maybe someday discovering where I received this burn. Hades! I slam a fist on the table, and the teacup rattles. Sometimes I wish... I wish I wasn't so alone! I wish I had more in this life and that there would be someone there for me.

* * *

October 13...

Wednesday...

5:49 A.M...

Kimberly's view...

A laptop sitting on the desk in my bedroom screeches like a bird and alerts me to an incoming message.

"No," I whine, place a pillow on my face, and roll over in my bed. "It can't be morning."

A screensaver of a flaming bird flies across the laptop, and the fiery glow lights up the dark room and after a few minutes, I drag myself out of bed. I put on a white housecoat and slippers, fix a cup of hot chocolate, and sit down at the desk. I hit the space bar, wake up the laptop, and click on the message.

It reads, "Have you accepted the Life Closing?"

Voice you're up early this morning. I take a sip of my hot chocolate. Or maybe you're up late, depending on where in the world you're sending this message from. I type a reply, "Yes."

"I'll send an encrypted email with directions," Voice types back. "He should be in his office for most of the morning."

"Standard operation?"

"Yes."

"Understood."

I push my chair back, but the computer's beep grabs my attention.

"You should take a break after this Closing," Voice writes. "You have been working rather hard, and the Moscow Closing was rather difficult."

"You sound like my father. Are you sure you don't have children?"

"Yes, in our line of business it isn't wise to have them," Voice types. "As for your father, you should listen to us, we are your elders."

"Since we're getting a little personal, I was wondering why you're called Voice? All these years I've worked for you, I've never heard you speak."

"Long before you joined us, I made contact over the phone and received the tag."

I type, "I'm also curious as to why you wanted me to join the Assassins League. I do live on the planet's Dark Half. I should be a part of the Assassins Union."

"And let Thanatos have one of the best Closers. I think not. He would only waste your talents, and anyway, those of us on the Light Side still have work that must be done in the Dark Half. You aren't the only Closer there that belongs to the League."

I stretch, yawn, and type, "Will contact you this evening. Signing off."

I go into the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast. I'll need a lot of fuel for the upcoming job. I glance at the trash and think of the dead plant. Maybe I do need a break. I just don't think I have room in my life for a pet. I notice the keychain on the counter and begin to brood. The last Closing really got to me. I grab the keychain, walk to the living room, and move to a bookcase beside the fireplace. I place the keychain in a wooden box sitting on a shelf and glance at a picture frame with a photo of my mom. I've been told that I look so much like her when she was young we could be twins divided by the ages.

I whisper, "Mom, if you were here, what would you think of me? I wish you had never left. I wish more than ever that you would be here for me." I pause and then question, "What would you think of my pathetic life?"

Chapter Four

Topa's Estate

8:48 A.M...

On the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector...

Katharine's view...

I see Topa's estate in the distance, and it's in the midst of an apple orchard. Sunlamps light up the imported trees as a gentle wind sweeps through the orchard's green leaves. The lamps are on sixteen hours and off eight for places like these and if they didn't use the sunlamps, the non-Transgenic trees would starve in the endless night and die without them. I'm like those trees. I'm starving from the lost of the only light I had in my life, and I'm slowly dying. I'm dying from my heart out. It shouldn't have happened, and it's my fault that it did.

Fruit trees here in Noir are rare, so the place should be a good thing to see, but a lot has happened to me lately. My heart burns with sadness and rage, and the only thing I can think of is he'll pay for taking away my light, so I continue forward with my plan. I walk up a winding path from the darkness of the day and the path leads me to the square mile estate. That's how I feel. I feel like I'm emerging from darkness into blacker shadows, and I swear to myself that he'll pay for killing Preacher. I don't care anymore about what's right or wrong. I'll make him pay for taking the only light in my world.

I trudge forward, determined to go through with my grim plans. The past year's nonstop hunts, what the Council calls tests, have taken their toll on me mentally and physically, but what happened yesterday... it... it can't be ignored.

My pants and shoes are worn and dirty but not as worn out as me. They're the same ones I had on when I woke up at Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. Life is hard here in the Hellenistic Sector, but I couldn't complain, not until yesterday. I remove a single strap backpack as grief wraps its arms around me and won't let go. I unzip my gray-black athletic jacket, and my chest hurts as anguish presses against it like a heavy boulder. The jacket covers my dingy white t-shirt and protects me from the cool breezy air, but it does little against the sorrow that chills me to my soul. I take off the jacket, remove a black Ravlek Vest I carry on the outside of my backpack, and put the vest on. Ravlek's an experimental material like Kevlar but generations ahead, and seeing the vest makes me think about my life as it is. It's almost been a year since I awoke in Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse and so much has happened. I've created memories, and I've learned what it means to care for another person and how to trust. I've learned what love and devotion are... but now all of that's gone along with Preacher.

I glance at the Ravlek Vest as if it'll console me. I acquired the body armor months ago from an assassin who died from a fall when he attempted to take my life. I worked so hard over the past year not to kill anyone who came after me, and I haven't failed yet, but the assassin still died, and he wasn't the first to lose his life in his pursuit of me. I cried so hard after the assassin died as if I had been the one to kill him. My heart has changed so much since then... since they took Preacher away from me. I no longer care if someone dies. I actually want to kill Topa and make him feel as much hurt as I do now, so I force myself forward. I set the backpack and the jacket beside a dead gnarled oak. The tree's a remnant from the sun era just as Preacher's a remnant of a future I'll never have, not since Topa killed him. I move forward but have no sense of my own actions, engulfed by an overpowering heartache, and I move as if I'm a robot fulfilling a programmer's command. The shock of seeing someone I deeply care for die in my arms numbs me to the bone. I want to scream out but that would give away my position, so I remain quiet and keep my grief within me. This is a nightmare... It has to be a bad dream. Preacher can't be dead.

I continue up the path in a dismal drudge toward my grizzly objective as a hatred overshadows my grief and suffering. The constant struggle between me and the Un-Men seems to have persisted for ages. I'm always the prey, always running and hiding, but not this time. My foes, the Council who sends human assassins and the Factory who sends the Un-Men after me, remain in the darkness and beyond my reach. Today's different... I know one of their names and one of their places of safety. I grip my gun and in my left hand, I carry a white book smeared with blood. Topa will pay. Rage fuels my exhausted body, revenge fixates my mind, and anguish rips at my spirit. He took the most precious thing in the world from me, so he has to pay. I stare at the book as I slowly die inside. For Preacher, I'll kill and I'll break an oath I made to myself long ago.

End Katharine's view...

Behind an iron gate, four men armed with handguns stood beside a brick guardhouse. Two of them talked while the other two walked their designated area. The gate was the eastern of four entrances, and a fifteen-foot wall of stone surrounded the estate. Three of the men wore a Winnow Mask type B or WM-B. The air filters covered their mouths and noses, and the masks permitted those not used to the Dark Half of the planet to work outside in the Dry Clouds' pollution.

The lead guard moved away from the man he was talking to, pressed a button on the side of his WM-B, and shouted to the woman in the distance through the mask's intercom, "Halt! State your name and business here!"

Katharine's view...

I don't respond, consume with a murderous grief and continue my war march toward them.

The four men move to the gate and position themselves to fend off my attack as the lead guard shouts, "She's wearing a vest. Switch to A.P.Rs."

The four men eject their 9 mm magazines and replace them with the Armor Piercing Rounds.

The lead guard declares, "We'll open fire if you don't state your name and business here!"

"My name?" I question. "My name? I'm Sorrow! I'm Emptiness!"

"She has a gun!" the lead guard shouts. "Take her out!"

The four men shoot at me, hitting me in the chest, and I lurch back with the impacts as images of Preacher flash through my mind. I cry out in pain, seeing him die in my arms over and over again. I fall face down to the path, and I exhale from the impacts as if it's my last breath. Fireflies dance about me and the surrounding area, paying no heed it's morning. I watch them and wonder if they can feel sorrow, and then my eyes slowly close as I slip into despair's embrace.

End Katharine's view...

The lead guard ordered, "You two, go check on her."

They stepped out of the gate, scanned the surrounding darkness to make sure she was alone, and then approached her. The second guard rolled her over, Kat moaned, and he noticed blood covered her shirt underneath the vest.

He said, "She's as good as gone." The second guard reached down, took her weapon, tucked it in the front waistband of his pants, then grabbed the book, and said, "This could be valuable." He searched her pockets, then scanned the area again, and spoke, "She has no ID or business card on her, so she isn't a Closer. She must be a nut job. See anyone else?"

"No," the third guard replied and then after taking another look across the surrounding land, he said, "Take her arms. The orchard could use more fertilizer."

The two guards dragged her inside the gate and dropped her on the dirt path.

"What's that?" the fourth guard asked. He wore no Winnow Mask since he was a native of Noir.

The second examined the item he held and then replied, "A book covered in blood."

"A book you say. Is it legal?" the maskless guard asked.

The second opened the cover, peered at a paper tucked in a clear plastic pocket, and replied, "Yeah, it's legal. Here's its registration." He read the top and said, "The Bible's registered to one Norman Odin."

"A Bible?" The maskless guard walked over, grabbed the book, and flipped through it. He handed it back to the second, walked over to her, and told him, "Throw that archaic thing away before you get some disease." He snarled his nose up at her, then spat on her, and said, "She looks like she's from Wayfaring Lane. Bums, the lot of them."

"I thought I might get some money for the book off the black market," the second said.

The maskless guard folded his arms, shook his head, and said, "Not from that thing, you won't. It's trash." He threw his thumb over his shoulder and ordered him, "Toss it!"

The second nodded, then went, and dropped the book on top of the garbage that sat in a trash can outside the guardhouse.

"Better let the boss know about this," the maskless guard said as he started to bring a radio up to his mouth.

Katharine's view...

"I wouldn't do that just yet," I exclaim to get his attention as I grab a hand full of dirt, and then I quickly stand and throw the dirt in his face.

The maskless guard cries out, covering his eyes with his hands, "I can't see!"

"How's she standing?" the lead guard shouts as he draws his gun. "I thought you killed her!"

"I did!" the third man exclaims as he aims his weapon at me and shouts, "She's covered in blood!"

I hold my chest in pain from the four earlier bullet impacts that struck my Ravlek Vest as I tell them, "It's not my blood." I jump up, spin kick the third guard in the temple, and then yell, "Why do you think I'm here?"

The third guard falls to the ground out cold as the lead and second guard shoot at me. I roll with extraordinary speed, evade their fire, then race to the lead guard as he shoots again. The bullet nicks my earlobe. I grab his wavy hair, whack the side of his head into the brick guardhouse, and side kick the second guard in the stomach. The lead guard slides down the brick wall, landing in a heap, and blood covers his forehead. The second guard bends over in pain after I kicked him, and then I calmly approach the second guard, take my gun from his waistband, pull his mask down, and punch him in the face. He starts to choke without the mask.

"I can't see!" the remaining guard screams again. "What's going on?"

I march over to the blinded man, place the barrel of my gun against his jaw, take his weapon, and then demand, "Where's Topa?"

"I won't tell you."

With calm resolve, I lean to him and whisper, "I'm only here to kill him but that doesn't mean I'll let you live if you don't tell me." I put my hand on his back, pull myself close to his ear, and say, "Tell me, and I'll let you live."

Sweat beads my forehead, and a salty droplet runs down my face, landing on the barrel. He squints at the fallen guards, and he must only see blurry images of what looks like dead men.

"Live like the others?" he questions.

I glance at one of them as that guard moans, and then I say, "They're alive. Now... Where's Topa?"

"I won't..."

I cock the gun and state in a voice that I hope makes him feel the presence of death, "Last chance."

"He's... He's in his office. Don't kill me!"

I uncock the gun, then use the man's own weapon, and strike him in the back of the head, knocking him out. I toss his gun, search the other men, and take their 9 mm ammo and what A.P.Rs. they have. I place the magazines in my pocket and toss their guns and masks into the bushes.

I start to walk to the guardhouse to retrieve the Bible from the trash can, but I pause and look at my trembling hands. I know this rage's not me, but I can't stop myself now. I continue to the trash can, pick up the book, brush debris from its blood dried cover, and hold it close to my heart.

I don't understand why they killed Preacher. Was it because of me or was it another test? My lips tremble as anguish shreds my heart into thousands of hurting pieces. Guilt saturates my thoughts as sadness attacks my being and my own mental accusers taunt me. They won't let me forget that I can do nothing to save the man I love. The accusations press against me and make it hard for me to breathe, but I won't let that stop me. I have gone this long grueling year without killing anyone. I took careful steps not to take a life and always found other ways to defeat the human assassins and bounty hunters the Council sent after me. I know it's wrong to kill but still, if I'm the reason Preacher's dead, then I have to kill Topa. It's all I can do for Preacher. If I can't even shed a tear for him, then I'll take...

I break down, collapse to my knees, and pound the ground with my fist. I'll... I lift my head and wail. I'll murder the man who took him from me. I'll end his life just as he ended Preacher's.

I breathe as deeply as I can, trying to rid myself of the suffocating feelings. I let rage fuel my resolve, and I force myself to stand on my wobbly feet. I start down the dirt path that leads to the center of the estate where the main house and Topa's office are. Hatred seeps into my psyche and drenches it with a malicious-filled insanity as I rush to my target, evading the rest of the guards. I won't have much time before the four at the gate are discovered, so I'll have to be quick and find Topa, and then I'll kill him.

Chapter Five

Enter The Life Closer

9:09 A.M...

The Sanctum...

Within the Chamber...

The Council monitored Pandora's bio-data on the center screen, and they noted changes in her mental state and that her Ultra-Epi had engaged.

"Pandora has entered Topa's estate," Ms. Nona spoke with concern. "Should we stop it? Topa is not part of the experiment."

"No, we will use him as we have used others who stumbled upon our tests," Mr. Morta replied. "The situation could be the catalyst we have been waiting for to take Pandora to the Gamma Phase of its metamorphosis."

Mr. Decuma said, "The project has been a disappointment this past year. Its skills are incredible but–"

"Yes, but Pandora holds back and has not taken a life," Mr. Morta said. "The why is what we have to discover."

"The conditioning has failed," Ms. Nona stated. "We should be working on the Epsilon Phase by now, not worrying about the Gamma."

"No, I think it is more than that. If you will remember even before we took custody of Pandora, it was an enigma. There is nothing wrong with the conditioning. I believe it is Pandora's emotions."

"Its emotions?" Mr. Decuma questioned. He didn't understand the eldest member's reasoning. Mr. Morta held such high expectations for the experiment. It was almost as if he had grown attached and if he had grown attached, it could be a problem. Mr. Morta could lose his indifference if he was not careful.

"Yes," Mr. Morta replied, and then he explained, "Pandora's emotions... though they may be immature... they still influence it. You see, rage and love even from a child... they are both driving forces, and it has not tapped into them."

"Until it met Preacher," Ms. Nona added. "Pandora knew love and now knows rage."

Mr. Morta nodded as he spoke, "Precisely, if we had known how his death would have affected Pandora, we would have killed him long ago to move along its programming."

A female supervisor handed Ms. Nona a report.

Ms. Nona said, "This could be a problem."

"What is it?" Mr. Decuma asked.

"It seems one of the corporations does not like what Topa has been doing lately. A Life Closer has been dispatched to the estate."

"By our corporation?" Mr. Decuma questioned.

"I think not," Mr. Morta answered. "But with an organization as vast as ours, who knows for sure?"

* * *

Kimberly's view...

At the northwest corner of Topa's estate, I throw a small J-shaped grappling hook over the wall. The northwest part of the estate has little lighting, so I easily hide in the darkness of the late morning. Murky gray Dry Clouds rumble overhead, warning of a possible Tainted Rainstorm. I'm a native of the Dark Half and thankfully, I don't have to wear a Winnow Mask. I pull my knit mask over my face, make sure it's securely in place, and check over my black outfit. I'm wearing thin gloves, jogging pants, running shoes, a tank top, and a zipped up hooded sweatshirt. I need to keep my identity a secret. Assassination might be legal, but anonymity will keep me from having to face some vengeful family member, lover, friend, or Illicit Closer. I've been lucky so far and no one's ever seen my face when I've been on a Closing. I prefer not to kill anyone who's not part of the Closing. If I do, I'll have to file extra paperwork. Voice hates unnecessary deaths as much as I do, and I don't want to make Voice upset.

I climb the cord to the top of the wall, drop down to the other side, and glance at my watch once I reach the ground. I'll have this Life Closing done within the hour if all goes well, and Topa will make the front cover again but the headline this time will read, "Found Dead."

I toss the thin climbing cord, grappling hook, and black knapsack in the corner and pile some leaves on the items to hide them, and then I check the tactical knife in a sheath strapped to my right calf. I quietly slip by the guards and make my way to his office. In the email Voice sent, the Closing File states Topa will most likely be there. The office is at the end of a long cobblestone path leading from the house. Black cast-iron lamps light the area, small pine trees grow along the path, and hedges line the last twenty feet of the walkway and around the office. I hide in the bushes underneath a window just left of Topa who's sitting. I glance in and see one henchman in a corner and my target busy at his mahogany desk. I place a silencer on a Walther PPK and stand to make my way in and finish this Closing quick and clean, but the front door opens. I duck back into the hedges, and the green-blue bushes rustle with my movement and then through the window, I watch as a second henchman walks into the room. He removes his WM-B and adjusts the mask's strap. Topa counts bundles of money and then places the stacks in a briefcase.

"This is payment for the Illicit Closer we hired to take out that nuisance on Wayfaring Lane," Topa relays as he finishes counting. "That do-gooder won't be hindering our sales of Sunna Snapps anymore."

"Why the cash, boss?" the second henchman questions. "Why not credits?"

"This cash can't be traced to me. Credits could be."

"Makes sense, boss."

I can't believe he hired an illegal assassin. I think people are really stupid when they take a chance by hiring someone who doesn't belong to the Assassins Guild. If Voice or Thanatos finds out, they'll kill him. I shrug as I decide in the scheme of things it doesn't matter now. Topa's Closing is today. What more can they do to him?

Topa shuts the briefcase and hands it to his second henchman as he orders him, "Also tell our contact at the Valhalla Corporation we'll be doubling our next order of Sunna Snapps now that business will be getting back to normal."

"Understood," the second henchman replies, then puts his Winnow Mask back on, takes the briefcase, and leaves through the back door.

Topa turns to the first henchman and tells him, "Ready my car. We're going into the Norse Sector."

The first henchman turns towards the window, so I duck down and after a few moments, I hear the door open and shut. I glance in the window, seeing that the muscle has left, so I again start to leave my hiding place. I can kill Topa before anyone comes back and be down with this Closing. I need to get some rest. I'm still tired from my last assignment. The front door opens before I leave my hiding spot, so I quickly duck back into the bushes. For Ares' sake! What's up with my luck today? All I want to do is complete this Life Closing and go home!

Katharine's view...

I enter and find Topa alone. His office smells of polished wood and has an old feel to it. Black and white photos of distinguished men who look related to him line the walls. I turn away from them. I can't let myself be distracted. I have to focus on my grim objective, and it's now or never. I have to eliminate the man who took Preacher from me. My gunhand shakes with indecision as it leans against my leg. I try to convince myself even my broken heart believes I have to commit this atrocious deed to atone for my failure to save Preacher.

Kimberly's view...

I peek through the window as I keep myself hidden, trying to figure out who the woman is. She could be a second Closer. I glower, a little irritated and duck back down. Did Voice send in backup? I never needed it. I think about it. I never needed it before Moscow. I cautiously glance through the window and study the woman, and she doesn't have the look of a Closer. Maybe she's a bodyguard.

Topa glances up when the door first squeaks open. He stares at her for a long time before he questions her, "How did you get in here?"

I see him press a button under his desk, triggering a silent alarm.

The woman raises her gun, aims it at him, and yells, "You must pay for what you did to Preacher!"

Maybe my luck has changed. Maybe this woman will take out Topa, and I can get out of here. I won't receive the full payment for this assignment if she does the deed for me but right now I don't care. I just want to go back to bed and sleep away this dreadful past week until it's far from my mind.

End Kimberly's view...

* * *

Within the Chamber...

Ms. Nona reported, "Argus is on the estate and has found Pandora in Topa's office. It is about to kill him."

"Good... Good... The Gamma Phase will finally be achieved when Pandora takes a life," Mr. Morta spoke as he beamed with pride, and then he inquired, "Where is the Closer?"

"Holding outside of the office," Mr. Decuma answered. "The Closer will not move with the unknown woman in the room."

"Finally..." Mr. Morta began as he considered all the hard work they had devoted to Pandora. "I have had such high hopes for this particular project. We have waited to achieve this pinnacle for one long year." With elated breath, he added, "Now we will witness Pandora's transformation as it completes the Gamma Phase."

Chapter Six

Preacher

Etymology, history and usage of the word puck...

Puck originally was the word for a mythological fairy or mischievous natured sprite. The meaning later expanded and emerged in slang around 300 B.D.C. in lands owned by the Druid Corporation. It referred to one's disdain for something. The word has taken on other meanings over the centuries and has been used cross-sectorally.

One year before Kat entered Topa's estate...

31 A.D.C...

October 26...

Monday...

3:15 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Old Business Vicinage...

Flickering street lights and neon signs cast a somber glow on Wayfaring Lane; it was a place where society's outcasts drudged out an existence. Many people lined the street, selling Transgenic Vegetables, used clothes, and canned food, and there were even people who dealt in flesh, Sunna Snapps, and/or stolen water rations. Huddled in a corner down a dead end alley, three dirty thin junkies shared a needle of Sunna Snapps. A man and a woman already shot up and were oblivious to their surroundings while the third rolled up his sleeve, injected the yellow liquid into his arm, and leaned back against the brick wall. His body warmed in the cool air as if he lay on a sunny beach and snaps of light appeared like he was seeing stars but larger and brighter.

A six-wheeled robotic Street Sanitizer the size of a small car rumbled down the potholed road past the alley. Nozzles in the front of it and the middle sprayed a cleaning agent. Scrubbing brushes just behind each set of nozzles scoured an oily residue on the road left behind by the Tainted Rain. A vacuum in the back sucked up the dark liquid and stored the polluted water in a large tank. The small vehicles kept the highways and byways from becoming cesspools and without the cleaners, Noir would come to a halt. The loud Street Sanitizer rumbled on, passing a Grub Filter sitting on the sidewalk against a building. The eight-foot square metal beast also known as a Grubby pulled in air, filtering out the petroleum-based pollutants caused by Dry Clouds. Usually, four Grubbies covered each block but this was Wayfaring Lane, they were lucky to have the one.

Evening approached as more people filled the street. Some wore Winnow Masks, marking them as recent immigrants to the Dark Half of the planet, but most of them didn't wear the air filters, having lived in Noir long enough for their lungs to become accustomed to the pollutants.

Katharine's view...

I stumble onto Wayfaring Lane, fleeing the Un-Man with the knife. The Un-Man attacked me four days ago and since then, it's been chasing me in a sadistic cat and mouse game. It came so close to killing me a couple of times already. I lost it a few hours ago and thankfully, it hasn't found me again. I know this because the Un-Man would have triggered my bio-mecha warning like the Un-Men had done when they first entered Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. These abilities that I have, they're unnatural. I can sense the presence of bio-mechas but more than that... the last day or two I've been having these flashes like I understand how they're thinking and working. It's so scary. I also seem to see my own body like I'm on the outside looking in. It's so weird and freaky. There has to be someone out there who can help me. I just need to find them, and then maybe they can put this nightmare to an end.

I pause at an alley wall and lean on it as I catch my breath. I can't stop running till I find a place that's safe, so I push through my exhaustion and run on. Blood cakes my left shoulder where one of the Un-Men's bullets grazed me, and dried plasma crusts the knife cut on my left forearm. Since waking at Etna, I've only eaten what food I scrounged from trash cans and slept only minutes at a time. Weariness and mental anguish are taking their toll on me. I think I'm near my breaking point.

Tired to the bone, I sprint down an obscure alley, trying to stay on my feet and not fall. I look over my shoulder as I splatter through puddles of Tainted Rain. The black water that smells of petroleum speckles my t-shirt and pants. I turn a corner and run into a man who's wearing a black trench coat. I stumble back and nearly fall, but I manage to put my hand out to the alley wall and steady myself. He says nothing to me only eyes me curiously like he's debating the best way to kill me so with a trembling hand, I raise my gun and aim at him.

"There's no need for that," he tells me. "I'm Argus and my job isn't to harm you."

Argus' view...

Pandora doesn't seem to understand me, and I notice its face shows fatigue and its hazel eyes, that mimic a human's, have the look of a lost puppy. Maybe it's too tired to understand me. The Factory has yet to recall or capture its wayward Un-Man. I don't believe Pandora has had any rest and even if it's a project, I don't know how long it can maintain such an unrelenting pace. It takes two steps back from me as if to bolt, so I quickly tell Pandora what I've been ordered to tell it.

"My employers the Council have some information for you," I say, taking a step forward, push the gun down to its side, and note Pandora's wounds, including the large bruise on its forehead. I tell it, "The Un-Man that the Factory sent after you, the Rogue, is no ordinary bio-mecha. There's a glitch in its programming. The Council wants you to be extra careful with it, and they also want me to inform you that the only way to defeat the Rogue is to reach the Delta Phase of your metamorphosis."

Katharine's view...

I have no clue what he's talking about, so I divert my eyes from his intense gaze, and I look at the sidewalk as if I'll find answers there. The world I've been thrust into is scary and confusing like a dark forest to a lost orphaned girl. All I want is for someone to help me. I smooth my hand over the stubble of my shaven head, trying to wrap my mind around what's happening to me. If I don't want to remain ignorant, I need to speak.

"You said the Council..." I begin. "I've heard that name before. Who are they?"

Argus starts to leave, but I desperately grab his wrist and plead with him, "Please tell me. You must at least know me. Please, tell me what my name is."

"You don't know your name?" he says as if he's surprised. "You're the Pandora Project." He grabs my other arm, turns my hand over, and places a 9 mm magazine in my palm. "If you want to survive the tests, never run out of ammo."

Argus turns to head down the street, and I can't let him go. He must be the someone I've been searching for to help me, so I shout after him, "Please! Don't leave me. Tell me what my real name is! There must be more... I must be more than a project."

He pauses as if my pleas have reached him, and he says, "I'm not here to kill you, but I'm also not here to help you. You're on your own. Though, it's regrettable you have no memory." He turns and looks at me with concern like one would peer at a crying infant, and then he speaks, "It must be very frightening not knowing why bio-mechas are trying to kill you." His expression softens for a split second and in that instance, I hope I see my knight, but then I realize the look he's giving me is one of pity as he informs me, "It's simple. You're being tested, and they're being tested." A black sedan pulls up, and he gets in as he tells me, "Know one thing... stay alive."

The car drives away from me as I stare at it unable to move. I don't want to be on my own. I want someone to help me and to make me feel safe like those arms... I see a flash or more like I feel warm gentle arms embracing me and cuddling me. I have felt safe before. I've felt protected from the monsters of this world.

I look at the car that's nearly out of sight, and the weight of what he told me hits me hard as if I've just received a death sentence from a judge. I can barely move my legs that feel like giant sandbags, so I slowly move over to a building, turn before fear and exhaustion causes my knees to buckle, slide down its rough wall, and land in a defeated lump.

"Someone help me," I whisper as I put my head on my knees, wrap my arms around myself, and rock back and forth. "Please, help me."

In the sedan...

Argus' view...

I remove my cell phone and make a call as the vehicle turns off of Wayfaring Lane.

"I have some new information for the Council," I start and wait until I'm patched in. "Pandora claims to have no memory of who it is and there does appear to be a wound on its forehead." I pause, listening to their reply. "Understood. I'll continue my surveillance and tell Pandora nothing about itself. As the Council wishes, so it will be done."

Back down the street...

Katharine's view...

I clench my gun, trying to understand things that seem unreal like I've been flung into a world that's not my own. Argus told me the Un-Men were sent by the Factory, that the one I can't destroy is called the Rogue, and that it's no ordinary Un-Man. The Factory knows who I am, but I don't know who or what they are. I also don't understand why they want me dead.

The coldness of the sidewalk chills my body, so I hug myself tighter as I continue to rock back and forth. I find little comfort in my own embrace and loneliness creeps up behind me and threatens to snatch what little hope I have left. Minutes go by, and I know what I'm doing won't help me and if I want to get out of this messed up situation, I have to focus on discovering the truth.

Argus said the Council wants me to be extra careful with the Rogue. It sounds like the Council's on my side but for some reason, I don't think that's true. I have to figure out what the Delta Phase is and what I'm supposed to turn into. They talk like I'm some sort of butterfly. I still don't understand why these horrible things are happening to me. Argus calls them tests and that I'm being tested and that the Un-Men are being tested, but what's the purpose of it all?

I lift my head and stare at the Dry Clouds in the dark sky. I need to get up and keep going, but I'm so exhausted. I'm tired of running and consider letting the Un-Man capture me, but then I decide against it. I'm more afraid of capture and what cruel things they'll do to me, so I slowly start to rise when panic sets in as my heart sounds the bio-mecha warning.

Ultra-Epi rushes through my veins as I stand and frantically look across the street and search for the relentless hunting machine. I eject the old empty magazine and with a shaky hand, I place in the new one. The e-field of my body alters as my eyes shimmer with blue electricity. Somehow, I know that the light coming from my eyes is called Ultra-Epi Light Emissions or Ult L-E.

The Rogue walks through a dark cluttered street lit by neon signs and street lights. The Type Four Model of Un-Man has short, brown, wavy hair and a pale chiseled face. Black smudges from Tainted Rain cover its brown suit. The Rogue passes three hookers and their pimp. I can sense that it knows I'm here, so I slowly walk away trying to blend into the background. I'm afraid if I run, the Rogue will spot me right away. I snailishly escape, but I can't seem to get the Rogue out of my mind. I see things that it must be seeing.

"Hey there, big guy," one of the women says, sizing up what she must think is a man. "Looking to party?"

"Yeah," another says. "Mr. Shades. What ya hiding behind those glasses anyway? Did yer old woman black yer eye?"

The Rogue turns to the second hooker, and its polarized spectacles reflect an XXX red neon sign as it questions, "Old woman? No, no old woman but if we party, I will show you what is behind them," the Rogue speaks as it removes its large knife, grabs her wrist as the other two women run off screaming, and then it says, "Let us party."

The hooker tries to pull away from the maniac waving a knife.

"Hey, none of that kinky stuff till we discuss a price," the pimp demands as he walks to them.

The Rogue punches him in the abdomen as it tells him, "Mind your manners. I am talking to the lady here."

The pimp grabs his stomach as he snarls, and then he pulls a small gun and threatens, "It isn't how things work here."

"How things work?" it questions and then still hanging on to the woman, the Rogue grabs the man's hand that holds the weapon, twists it, and breaks his wrist. It states, "This is how things work in my world."

The pimp cries out, drops the gun, collapses to his knees, and holds his wrist, screaming, "My hand! You broke my hand! Pucker!" he curses. "You're going to pay for this!"

I'm still fleeing in the other direction but stop as the pimp cries out again. I glance at my gun. Everything within me screams for me to escape while I have the chance, but one small voice tells me save them. The flow of the e-field increases, and the blue stage of the Ult L-E glows brighter as the voice grows louder in my thoughts. Save them.

The hooker, horrified by what she witnessed, tries to pull away and bolt but the maniac yanks her to him.

"Do not be rude and leave before the party has started," it says as it pulls her close and whispers, "Pandora. We have to wait for Pandora."

"Pandora? Sick mother-pucker! You can get yer freak on with someone else. Ya creep! Let me go, you pucker!" The woman screams, pulling against his hold and yells, "Let me go!"

I approach them, raise my gun, and aim for its forehead as the orange color of its dot-light changes to a fiery crimson. There's something different about this Un-Man, something deep within it that I can see and yet I can't see.

A wicked grin slithers across the Rogue's pale face as I tell it, "You can release her. I'm here."

"Ahh... Pandora..." The Rogue pauses, and then it asks, "Let her go? Why would I do that?"

"I'm your target. Why do you need to hurt anyone else?"

"Yours is a valid question," the Rogue states as it twirls the hooker around, wraps her up in its arms, and places its blade against her throat. The hooker whimpers as it continues, "I enjoy it, but bio-mechas are not supposed to feel anything so that makes me something special, does it not? I think that is why my creators are afraid of me and why they want to destroy me." The Rogue scans me, noting my fear and exhaustion. It also notices my eyes' bluish afterglow in the darkness of the day and that the light's not normal for a human. The Rogue tells me, "It is also the reason you want me dead."

"I don't want you dead. I just want you to stop hunting me!"

"I cannot," the Rogue replies as it examines every feature and minute scar on my face. It's creeping me out as it imprints them all to memory. "I am still a machine and at least for now, I cannot escape my programming."

I hate depending on the gun for my survival and try to talk my way out by saying, "Maybe your creators are afraid of you, not because you have feelings but because you have the potential to disobey your programming."

"You mean like you," the Rogue accuses me, and then it laughs. "You have done well so far to go against your own programming but no... For me, it is my potential for evil that they fear. I am sure of it." It cuts a tiny slit in the hooker's neck and makes her whimper louder as it asks, "But what would a machine know of evil? Am I not the product of my creators' hardware and software or was some other thing added to me that makes me different from the other bio-mechas?"

"I don't know. I only know you're hurting that woman," I answer as I start to pull the trigger.

The Rogue ducks behind the hooker so I have no shot as it demands, "Drop your gun or I will slit her throat. Do it!"

It cuts deeper into her neck, so I give in.

"Okay! Okay!" I utter as I place the gun on the sidewalk, making myself vulnerable to its malicious attacks. "Just don't hurt her!"

"Excellent," the Rogue speaks as it smirks and in that instance, I can't read it. It's like the Un-Man's blocking my ability to get inside its head.

"Now what?" I ask, not sure what my next move should be.

Panic sets in as I see the Rogue's grin spread out in a devious smirk, and it answers me, "Now you watch me kill her!"

Before I have a chance to utter no, a man comes up behind the Rogue.

"Hey!" the man shouts.

The Rogue turns as the man swings a metal bat, striking it in the head, and the Rogue stumbles back and releases the hooker. The attack knocks its polarized spectacles off, and the damaged frames fall to the street. I grab my gun and fire twice, but the Rogue with its lightning reflexes evades the bullets, and then it backhands the man, knocking him to the ground. It turns on me and freezes, but it's not looking at me, so I turn around and see a black van with tinted windows speeding our way.

The Rogue turns and flees down an alley, shouting as it runs, "It seems the Factory has tracked me down. We will finish this another day, Pandora!"

The hooker rushes over to the pimp and questions him, "Are ya all right? Oh, yer hand. Let's get ya to a hospital."

The black van speeds by us in their pursuit of the Rogue as the pounding of my heart lessens. I set the safety and tuck my gun in the back waistband of my pants. I wait till my irises lose their radiance before I walk over to the man. He rubs his bloodied mouth and looks up at me.

I offer my hand as I say, "Thanks."

"No problem," he tells me, grabs my wrist, pulls himself up, and then introduces himself, "The name's Preacher." He picks up his metal bat and glances into the alley the Rogue ran through. "That thing was no man. What was it?"

"They're called bio-mechas and that model is an Un-Man."

"They? There are more of them?"

"Yes, there are more," I answer and then mutter, "There are so many more."

"No kidding." He walks up to a stoop and picks up a white Bible as he comments, "Noir's getting wilder every day."

I move to the Rogue's broken polarized spectacles, pick them up, and peer through them. The lenses are mostly intact and intermediately fizz and crackle between green lettered readouts across tiny square screens. The polarized spectacles do more than hide their eyes, they relay tactical data from the Factory and from each other. I drop them to the sidewalk and crush them with my shoe in case the polarized spectacles carry tracking beacons, and then I start across the street.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Preacher asks as he jogs after me.

I turn as he places his hand on my shoulder, and then I repeat, "Where..? I... I don't know."

"Well, you look like you could use a meal and clean up a bit." He motions to the dried blood on my forearm and shoulder and adds, "And some first aid."

I stare at the thin scraggly man with shoulder-length stringy black hair. Preacher wears a worn navy blue t-shirt and broken black rim glasses taped in the front. His blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile catch my attention, and they make me feel safe and welcomed. Have I finally found my knight? I notice he's staring at me, and I blush.

Preacher waves his free hand like I've been looking at him as if he's some sort of weirdo, and he tells me, "I'm not being perverted or anything. I run a shelter, the Kitchen. It seems to me you've been on the go for a while, so I thought you might be hungry."

I nod as my stomach growls. I'd cry if I had the strength to. I think I've found my safe place.

"You aren't much for talking are you?"

I shake my head.

"Shy. That's okay. Come on. I believe grilled cheese and tomato soup are on the menu tonight."

Chapter Seven

Farewell My Friend

Seven months later...

32 A.D.C...

May 25...

Tuesday...

7:30 P.M...

Katharine's view...

A helicopter flies over Wayfaring Lane just beneath the looming Dry Clouds, and a gust sweeps up an old newspaper, tumbling it down the potholed blacktop as me and Preacher sit on a stoop in front of the Kitchen. We watch the people in the neighborhood as he tries to comfort me in his own way. Preacher once told me he's never seen someone so lonely or lost. He understands that we're from two different worlds but... Preacher still wants to understand me as desperately as I want to be apart of his life. What frustrates me the most is that my past, that keeps eluding me, just won't let it happen.

He glances at me and must notice how depressed I am. He rests his rough calloused hand on mine, and we sit there in silence for about twenty minutes. I try not to be so distant, and it's still hard for me to connect. There have been so few people who have been good to me, and he's top on the list.

"What are you thinking?" he asks me.

I start to answer but instead, I stare up at the ever-present nemesis of Noir. I've always wondered how something so fluffy and so soft looking could beat back the might of the sun; it's only another question on my endless list of questions. Since awakening in Etna Toys, I've discovered nothing about my past or why I'm hunted.

I glance at his hand. Usually, his touch makes me feel better but not today. Only answers will fill the hollowness of my soul, so I gently pull my hand away from his and rest my hand on my lap. I'll do almost anything to find some scrap of my past. If I can just find out if Kat's my real name and where I come from, I'll be happy. It hurts too much not knowing, and I don't think Preacher understands. He doesn't understand how frustrating it is and that in itself hurts. I'm alone in a void of uncertainty and because of that, I'm a stranger in our relationship, but I don't know why I haven't shared this with him. I guess I'm afraid he won't understand, and I don't think I can take it. I can't be alone in something else, so I haven't said anything.

When I don't answer his question, Preacher looks down at his Bible he always carries as if he's unsure of what to say. It's like he's searching for words that will comfort me, and then he finally tells me, "Katharine, don't you know there's more to this life than what you can see?"

I focus on the book he holds, and then I reply, "You have told me but still, there's something within me that wants to discover who I am." I stare at my worn shoes and speak softly, "And yet, there's this part that fears what I might discover."

I turn to him, hoping to find a sympathetic heart and a look of understanding to the uneasiness that haunts me, but what I find is Preacher peering at the street as his attention's drawn to a group of kids playing. He smiles... and I wonder if it's because he knows even in Wayfaring Lane children can find time to be children. When he doesn't notice my searching gaze, I turn my attention to the kids. I'd usually go play with them but today... so much is on my mind.

I frown, turn my attention back to my shoes, and then say almost in a whisper, "What if I'm a bad person? What if I've done terrible things?"

"We've all done bad things," he answers as he finally turns to me.

I lift my gaze back to him, searching once again for the sympathetic heart and the look of understanding, but all I see is that his expression saddens as if his statement was a reflection of his own life. I notice a red VX Corvette with the license plate FromAshes drives by with a blonde lady at the wheel before I once again divert my eyes to my worn shoes.

"I feel like I should be searching for something," I tell him, not sure he's really listening. I grab my backpack that's sitting beside me, unzip it, remove the worn note, business card, and the music box that was with me at Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse, and then I say, "I know these are clues to my past, but how do they fit?"

"Our Gracious Lord has a plan for you. I know it and in due time, he'll show it to you. You only need to be patient."

His words don't help me, and I wonder again if he's really listening as I say, "That's all I seem to have, but even my patience is running out."

Preacher grins and his blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile catch my attention once again. His warm expression makes me feel safe and gives me some hope; it gives me hope that my search won't be in vain. I no longer fear he's not listening to me as I lean over and lie my head on his shoulder. If only my life was always this peaceful, then...

* * *

Five months later...

October 12...

Tuesday...

10:11 P.M...

The day before Kat arrived at Topa's estate...

Katharine's view...

A car burns and then explodes, sending fiery shrapnel in all directions. Bullet holes litter the buildings, and the citizens of Wayfaring Lane run screaming for their lives as I return from meeting an informant who never showed.

An old bag lady holding a golf club runs up to me out of breath and exclaims, "Someone shot Preacher!"

"What?" I utter, and then I demand, "Where is he?"

The bag lady points with the golf club as tears stream down her wrinkled face.

I take off running in that direction as anxiety presses against my chest. A million things run through my mind as I hurry toward the Kitchen, screaming, "Preacher! Preacher!!"

I continue running till I spot Argus who's standing at the entrance of an alley with his back to me as he stares at the pavement. I run past him and find Preacher lying in a pool of blood. He's been shot several times in the chest. I freeze, paralyzed with dread, and I stare in disbelief at his lifeless body.

"No," I whimper and take a step forward. "No."

I walk to Preacher and collapse at his side. I fear touching him and discovering the truth as my eyes burn with my cowardice and anguish. He can't be dead. He's not dead. I pick up his hand, and his skin's cold to the touch.

"Preacher," I whisper, looking into his pale face. "Look at me." He doesn't respond to me. "Don't you die on me." I squeeze his hand. "Don't you leave me alone." He still doesn't respond, so I turn to Argus and desperately order, "Hurry! Go get some help!"

Argus doesn't move or say anything, so I turn my attention back to Preacher. I rub his cold hand as if to bring warmth back into it. My mind already knows something that my heart refuses to believe.

"Don't worry," I tell him. "Help will be coming, hang in there. You have to. You can't leave me alone." I lean to him, pleading, "I can't bear my life without you so please... stay with me."

I lean back, looking at the man who was there when I wake screaming in the middle of the night in the shelter, the man who held my hand and stayed by my side for three days when I had been shot, and the man who didn't care that bio-mechas hunted me or that I'm the Pandora Project.

His eyes are closed, and he looks as if he's sleeping. I notice there's something missing about him, not something physical but spiritual. I know it's too late as my heart realizes what my mind has kept from it, and I finally allow myself to believe he's gone.

"Not you!" I scream. "Not you!!" I shake him and cry, "No..!" I cradle his head in my arms and wail to the heavens as I beg him, "Don't leave me! Don't leave me!"

My heart aches, and my eyes swelter with a dry grief as I'm unable to shed a tear. It never tortured me before that I couldn't cry, but now I wonder if it's because I'm something like a bio-mecha who's not capable of expressing grief.

I sit there for minutes, holding Preacher in my arms as his blood saturates my t-shirt, and then I rest my head on his and whisper, "Forgive me, I should have been here. You told me not to go to the meeting and that it might be a trap, but I didn't listen. I had to go. I had to find that scrap." I sniff before continuing, "I should have listened but no... I had to find out if the man knew anything about my past, but he wasn't there. No one was there."

I notice Argus' shadow that's stretches down the alley, and I wonder if the Council's behind this and if they lured me away to kill Preacher in another one of their tests. My sorrow turns to anger as I come to the conclusion that the Council did kill Preacher.

I direct my rage at Argus and demand, "Who did this? Who shot him?"

He doesn't answer me, and he just stands there as the breeze whips his black trench coat as if he's a stoic knight standing guard at a drawbridge. I know he's no knight, knights are gallant and protect the weak. No one can't protect if they only watch.

I snap at him as if yelling at myself for not being there to save the man I love, "I know you saw... You're always watching. Was it the Council? Did they have Preacher killed? Did they have him killed to get at me because I'm not passing their tests? Because I'm not passing something called the Gamma Phase?" I gently lay Preacher down, stand, grab Argus by his coat's collar, and slam him against the alley wall. "You were here, weren't you?" I scream, wild with rage. "You were here and did nothing!" I beat my fist on his chest. "Isn't that right? Tell me! Did you watch them kill him?"

"Yes," Argus answers as he looks down at me, taking my hits as if they're a small part of his penitence. "My job is to watch," he tells me as his expression remains blank. "I'm not to hinder or help. My job is to–"

"Shut up! I hate you!" I snap at him as I drop my fist, lean my head on his chest, and whisper, "I hate you."

My words must sting as if I punched him for his body flinches. I lift my face to scream at him again, and the next thing that happens surprises me. His eyes are watering. Argus never showed any emotion before and for the longest time, I thought he was an Un-Man.

Argus lifts his hand as if he's going to stroke my head and soothe my sorrow, but then he drops his hand. He had told me once that he developed something his training should have prevented. He developed feelings for me. A part of me wants to reach out to him and find some comfort with him, but I can't. He's part of the Council... He's part of those who did this to Preacher.

I deeply heave as sorrow and anguish drown me, and then I demand, "Tell me. Tell me who murdered Preacher. Was it the Council or the Factory?"

He doesn't answer me and that makes me more infuriated with myself than with him. It's not Argus' job to protect Preacher. I should have been here. I should have listened to Preacher's advice, so I direct all my anger at Argus only because he's standing there.

"For once in your life, do something useful! Take a side... Take a stand!" I scream as I die inside. "Be more than an observer!" I look up into his watery blue eyes, looking... no pleading for comfort and whisper, "Kill me." I strike his chest with my fist; it's the only thing I can think to do for no one will wrap their arms around me again. "Help me," I beg as I hit him again. "Just do something!"

I hide my face in his coat, and my body trembles with sorrow and heartache, knowing nothing will bring back Preacher and that I'm all alone.

"Topa," Argus whispers. "Topa ordered the Closing on Preacher. He has an estate on the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector."

I sniff, pull myself back, and stare at him heartbroken. I stare at him for a long time, and then I slap Argus in the face, and he only looks at me. I tell him with self-loathing thick on my lips, "That's for doing nothing and letting Preacher die."

It was me though... I let Preacher die. I'm the one to blame because I wasn't here. My eyes still burn as I turn my back on Argus and tell him, "I don't ever want to see you again." I walk over to Preacher, take the Bible from his grasp, and head out of Wayfaring Lane as I inform Argus, "You're my shadow no more so don't follow me."

I leave the alley and start on my grim quest. I'll kill Topa. My knight... the one who saved me from my despair is dead, so I go to slay the dragon who murdered him.

Chapter Eight

From The Ashes

Present time...

October 13...

Wednesday...

9:47 A.M...

Katharine's view...

Topa's office feels menacing and reeks of corruption as the men in the photos stare at me. They seem to glare down at me as if I'm the monster in the room, but I ignore their silent accusations as my heart aches so much it makes me ill. Preacher gave me the strength to go on, and he made me feel like a person, not a project. Now I feel empty, alone, and part of some twisted experiment. Topa will pay for killing the only light in my life. I'll snuff out his flame as he had Preacher's life extinguished.

My gun weighs heavy in my hand, and I don't know how much longer I can hold it up. Sorrow overwhelms me as I aim for Topa's forehead. I have to make the pain go away, and this is the only way I can think of to make it stop hurting. Preacher's presence is here with me as I cradle his book, clenching it as I will him to come back to me. I know he won't be coming back and as I grip the gun, I also know Preacher would want me to do this. He's urging me on. He's telling me to take the shot and kill the dragon but... I feel like I'm missing something. I feel as though I'm about to betray him in some way.

Topa must notice my hesitation for he questions me, "Have you ever killed someone?"

I don't answer as I start to press my finger against the trigger. Topa's death will be like the others. He will die just like the Un-Men. I'll squeeze the trigger, and the bullet will penetrate his forehead and enter his automaton brain. No... That's not right. I can't be naïve about it. This killing will be different. Topa's flesh and not a bio-mecha, so I have to be honest with myself. I waver a little. I'll be taking a life, and it's the one thing I fought so hard not to do, but he killed Preacher so it has to change things. Preacher was my friend, and I lov...

I let the last word fade from my mind. I have no right to claim that type of relationship, not when I couldn't admit that simple word to Preacher. I pause in my thoughts as grief seizes me again, and I scream, "Nothing will bring Preacher back, so you have to die!"

"It isn't all that easy taking someone's life," Topa tells me as he reaches down, and I hear him open a desk drawer which probably has a gun in it. "Can you do it?"

"I will kill you! You murdered Preacher! You should die!"

My arm shakes as rage and grief shrieks at me to pull the trigger but something holds me back.

He must see the hatred in my eyes for Topa becomes a little nervous, but then two of his men enter from the door behind me, and he regains his confidence and questions, "Preacher? Oh... You mean the do-gooder causing me problems on Wayfaring Lane. You say he's dead?"

"You know he's dead! You ordered the Closing!"

"Maybe I did."

"I know you did!" I scream as the pain in my chest worsens, and I can no longer withstand the sorrow wanting to consume me. My resolve to kill Topa vanishes as I wish with all my being that Preacher would wrap his arms around me and tell me everything will be all right. I know that will never happen, and my gun arm drops slightly, and I no longer aim at Topa. I pull into myself, and once again aim the blame at my own feet. I should have never left Preacher's side. He's dead because I wasn't there to save him.

"You're here to do what?" he asks. "Kill me?" Topa looks me over and mocks my resolve, "You don't have it in you."

I can't let him dictate my revenge, so I lift my gun as if this action alone will give me the courage, but something within me tells me courage's not what I'm missing. I ignore the voice and tell him, "You should die for what you did but before I kill you, I have to know. Do you work for the Council or the Factory? Which one of them had Preacher killed?"

"The Factory I've never heard of but the Council..." He studies me more closely as if seeing me in a darker shade than before, and then he questions me, "What would someone like you know of them?"

"You didn't answer my question! Who do you work for?"

Topa laughs at me again as if I should know the answer, and then he tells me, "I work for no one but myself."

I don't believe him, and I let him know by saying, "You can refuse to answer me, but I know better." I scream, "You have to die because you killed him!"

I aim the gun again as I wrestle with the trigger and my emotions. I don't understand... I shouldn't be hesitating. I should shoot Topa and finish it! At that moment, I once again feel the worn leather of the book, reminding me of Preacher and this time, I hear his true voice. I drop my gun arm and sob as I finally understand. Preacher wouldn't want me to take revenge. It's wrong. He wouldn't want me to kill someone because of him, and he would never tell me to take the shot.

Outside the window...

Kimberly's view...

I watch the entire scene unfold with that woman. Idiot! You're weak and spineless. I grip the PPK. Kill him. Take your revenge. I wouldn't hesitate if someone had killed someone precious to me.

End Kimberly's view...

Within the Sanctum...

An alarm sounded. The Chamber Analysts and supervisors fell silent as they tensed, fearing the reaction of the Council. On the center screen in large red letters blinked "Third Evolvement Failure".

"NO!" Mr. Decuma shouted as he slammed his fist on the table, joggling his laptop. "Pandora failed! Why can it not take a life? Pandora has no problems dealing with the Un-Men, but it has refused to kill every human assassin we sent after it."

"The Un-Men are bio-mechas. They are not alive," Ms. Nona stated. "Pandora knows the difference even with the conditioning."

"Should we terminate the project? "Mr. Decuma asked.

An analyst turned off the alarm as Mr. Morta replied, "No, not just yet. All we need to do is find a sufficient catalyst."

"What about the tests?" Ms. Nona questioned.

Mr. Morta ordered, "Call off the bounty on Pandora's head and cancel the Life Closing for now. Pandora could use the rest."

"Agreed. I stated my concerns earlier over its fatigue," Ms. Nona said. "We have been pushing it too hard. Most subjects would have broken by now, and what about the Un-Men? Can we get the Factory to call them off?"

"We can request it, but I doubt they will," Mr. Morta answered. "The Factory feels they have as much of a right to Pandora as we do and most likely, they will continue to test their bio-mechas. We will focus on finding a catalyst for now."

"Agreed," Ms. Nona and Mr. Decuma said in one accord.

Back at Topa's estate...

Katharine's view...

Topa's henchmen quickly grab me from behind, and one of them takes my gun.

"Vengeance is mine, says the Lord," Topa speaks and then chuckles as one of his henchmen grabs the book from me. "I think you should take up a new religion because this one has failed you." He motions to his henchmen and orders, "Take her to the wine cellar and hold her there. I'll be down later to deal with our new guest."

They nod and start to take me outside as Topa closes the drawer to his desk. He stands, walks to a wall safe, and starts to unlock it.

Kimberly's view...

I wait until the two men escort that woman down the path, and then I make my way to the office door. I remove my knit mask right before I turn the knob and go in. Topa's standing in front of a wall safe and turns to me as I enter. I shut the door behind me.

"Now what is it?" Topa asks as if he's irritated with me for disturbing him.

I lock the door as I state, "I usually don't let anyone see me." The Mark doesn't know the reason for my arrival but he soon will, and I take a bit of wicked pleasure from that fact as I tell him, "But you're a special case."

"I'm going to have to do something about my security." His expression changes to one of perverted interest as he ogles my body and that only upsets me more, and then he states, "I suppose you're also one of Preacher's friends." He moves to the side of his desk and pulls out his chair but doesn't sit as he continues, "Perhaps you're a lady of the evening who can't live without her daily confessions?"

The man's oozing with grime, and it's like he's slinging it at me, so I sneer as I move to the middle of the office and order him, "Keep your hands where I can see them. I don't need you tripping any silent alarm and as for my profession–" I throw my business card on his mahogany desk as I state, "–this should answer that."

Topa glances down at it and then questions, "What's this? A firebird?" He recognizes the emblem and sits in his chair as if someone shoved him down into it. "No... You can't be." He peers up and panics. "Puck! You're the Phoenix?" He stands, searching for a place to run. "You're a Closer! Don't kill me! I'll pay you anything! I can give you credits or–" Topa motions to his safe as he states, "–I have cash."

"Hades... You really disgust me. Why is it I always hear the same old thing from you Marks? Do you really think you can buy off a Closer? Well, you can't." I clear my throat and then state, "Samuel R. Topa, the Valhalla Corporation has decided they no longer want to do business with you. They're tired of losing their shipments of Sunna Snapps so under the Life Closer Clause of your contract with Valhalla, I am authorized by the Assassin's League to terminate your life."

"But why kill me?"

"I'm only guessing, but it sounds like the narcotic Sunna Snapps hasn't been approved for use, but you're selling it anyway for the corporation. A kind of clinical street trial, but the participants don't know they're guinea pigs. You messed up when you lost a few of the shipments," I reply as I aim. "The Valhalla Corporation is now tying up loose ends and using the pretense of your contract to do it." I shoot twice and smoke rolls from the silencer and with no emotion, I add, "You know... just business."

Gray matter splatters the wall as Topa falls back in his chair and blankly stares at the ceiling.

For once, someone got what they deserved. For Ares' sake! To think this grimy guy had a preacher killed and used an Illicit Closer to do the job. Did he really think the Assassins Guild wouldn't find out? I glance at the black and white photos on his wall. I know people like us are going to Tartarus, but you had to provoke whatever god you believe in to send you there a little early.

I pull my knit mask back on and head out the front door. I want to leave the estate as soon as possible and forget about this horrible week. I really need to take a shower now.

Chapter Nine

The Un-Men Arrive

Points of interest...

Corporations had to develop alternatives for those addicted to nicotine since tobacco plants were nearly wiped out the first few months after the Dry Clouds appeared. The first year of the Dry Clouds (Zero Year), tobacco farms were started on the Light Side of the planet. Twenty-eight years ago, the Corporate Senate decided that crops planted on the Light Side had to produce food, so NicPhake and other synthetics were created. The idea was to wean people off of smoking altogether. The synthetic tobacco proved to be as addictive, and the secondhand smoke from NicPhake caused blindness in some infants. NicPhake was then regulated and could only be acquired with a prescription.

10:12 A.M...

Four black Chrysler 3000s drove across the road leading to Topa's estate. The human drivers parked, turned the headlights off, plunging the area back into darkness, and then the passenger and the two back doors opened. Three Un-Men got out of each car, and the vehicles rocked back and forth as the Un-Men exited. They moved to the back of their vehicles as the drivers popped the trunks, and an Un-Man of each group removed Uzis from the back and armed their brethren and once they were armed, their Input Sensor blinked three times as they received their orders from the Factory.

They uttered, "Setting programming to Infiltration Mode. Eliminate any obstructions to primary Seek and Destroy Program."

The dozen Un-Men gathered in front of the lead vehicle and looked at the north gate that was about a hundred feet down the wall from them. They synchronized to determine the best entry point and relayed their findings to the Factory.

Five armed men stood guard within the gate. The guards noticed them when they pulled up and readied themselves to engage the armed intruders and if they had to, the men would shoot on sight.

In unison, the Un-Men nodded their understanding of the Factory's orders. They slung the Uzi over their shoulder and started for the wall directly in front of them as the drivers drove the vehicles away. The Un-Men climbed over the fifteen-foot wall by stabbing their fingers into the brick. Each thrust of a hand into the mortar and clay sounded like a boot crunching across the snow; it sounded like an army marching across the white powder as they all scaled the wall.

"The intruders climbed over!" a man at the gate yelled.

"Quick, radio in backup!" another man yelled through his WM-B.

The five guards opened fire on the intruders, and bullets riddled the dozen bodies, filling their business suits with holes. The Un-Men remained standing, staring ahead. The guards ceased fire and glanced at one another, seeing that the intruders were still alive.

The Un-Men turned their heads in an eerily co-occurrence and looked at the guards.

"Obstacle encountered," they stated as they assessed the obstruction.

Two of them lifted their Uzi, aimed, and shot the men, and the men's bodies jerked as the wave of bullets bombarded them. The Un-Men ceased, and the men collapsed to the ground. The two Un-Men scanned the bodies and determined the men's life signs had ceased.

"Obstacle eliminated," a Team Leader stated. "Setting programming to Seek and Destroy. We will track down Pandora and eliminate her."

They headed into the heart of the estate in four groups of three as they all stated, "Pandora will not escape us this time."

Earlier at Topa's house...

The two henchmen shoved Kat down the stairs of the cellar and followed after her as the wooden steps creaked with their weight and once they reached the bottom, one of them ordered, "Warner, frisk her."

Warner did and took the music box, business card, and the note from her pant's pocket and set them on a table. He laid the white book and her gun there after he had ejected the gun's magazine and cleared the weapon's chamber. The other henchman motioned with his gun to a chair for her to sit, and she complied. Racks of wine filled the cool dusty room, and a rat scurried across the concrete floor in the back.

One of the henchmen grabbed her chin, lifted it up, examined her face, and said, "You aren't much to look at, are ya?"

Katharine's view...

I don't answer him, there's no point, there's no point to anything. The walk from Topa's office allowed me time to think. I was wrong before... Preacher might not have wanted me to take revenge, but I should have. I should have ended Topa as he so callously snuffed out the only light in my world. I had Topa in my sights, and I couldn't pull the trigger. It was my duty, and I shouldn't have listened to my heart. I failed, so I must concede that this is my fate for not killing Topa. I deserve far worse for not saving Preacher.

The henchman releases my chin and joins the other man at the square table. They both remove their WM-B and breathe in the room's filtered air.

I wipe my hands over my face as I regret allowing a sense of right and wrong stop me. I remember Preacher and the more I think about him, the more I think about how I failed to save him and how I fail to do what I had come to do.

"What do you think Topa will do to her, Muggs?" Warner asks.

"Don't know," Muggs replies as he shrugs. "Slap her around I guess. What does he usually do with women?"

Warner picks up the music box, opens it, and Unfinished Melody plays as I relax in the chair and my eyelids droop. My sorrow and pain vanish with the melody as it lulls me into an oblivious euphoria. Nothing matters when I exist in this state, not even the death of Preacher.

"Hey, she's falling asleep." Muggs stands, kicks my chair, and orders, "Stay awake!" He glances at the book and adds, "Maybe use this time to pray or don't you know you're going to die?"

Entranced by the melody, I ignore Muggs and listen as if I'm a youngster and the music box is the Pied Piper of Hamelin. I'll happily follow the bewitching music and vanish from existence. I stay in this euphoric state until Warner closes the lid, ending the melody.

After he does, Warner examines the music box more closely and states, "This ain't no ordinary trinket. It's electronic or something."

"You could pawn it at least," Muggs says. "It is silver."

With the drug-like music gone, my pain and sorrow rush back like a runaway hovertrain. Feeling nothing would be better than this heart pang, so I plead, "Could you please let the melody play?"

"Shut up! You don't get a final request," Warner tells me, then props his feet on the table, and starts rolling a cigarette with synthetic tobacco.

Muggs looks around the cellar as he says, "I've heard a couple of stories of people who've been taken down here. Isn't there another entrance to this place? One that comes up in the middle of the estate? I've heard–"

lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

I ignore the men as they talk and focus on the cellar door like a prowling tigress about to pounce. Ultra-Epi courses through my blood as the e-field of my body alters. I can see it happen like I'm reviewing a video of myself. My eyes spark with blue voltage and in a calm voice, I say, "They're here."

Warner lights the cigarette and blows white-pink smoke from the side of his mouth. He takes another drag of NicPhake as he ignores my warning. He doesn't even look at me.

"Who's here?" Muggs asks, turns to face me, and gapes, seeing my eyes. Everyone usually reacts in the same way when they see the Ult L-E, but I'm still not used to how they look at me. They look at me like I'm some sort of evil monster. He stands and nearly knocks over his chair as he inquires, "Are you some sort of creature from the underworld?"

"They're here," I repeat. I don't care if the Un-Men find me or not.

Warner becomes notably upset. I don't think he heard his partner's comment, and he yells at me, "Didn't I tell you to shut the puck up?" He stands and lifts his hand to strike me as white-pink ash drops from the cigarette, and then he pauses and asks, "What's wrong with your eyes?"

"There are twelve intruders at the north gate!" a man yells over the intercom of their WM-Bs. "Hades! They've scaled the wall and are inside!"

Warner picks up his mask and listens.

The man on the other end breathes hard as if he's running.

"We're engaging them."

Weapons fire fills the airwaves.

"They must be wearing armor. We're switching to–"

There's a pause.

"Two of them are turning toward us and have lifted their weapons! Take cover!"

The rapid tat-tat of Uzis drowns out the man's screams.

Warner turns to his partner and orders him, "Quick, get on the radio and see what Topa wants us to do."

"Right, I'm on it." He puts his WM-B on and activates the intercom and speaks, "Boss, this is Muggs."

There's no reply.

"Boss, this is Muggs."

There's still no response.

"Can anyone hear me?" Only dead air returns his call, so he turns to Warner and questions, "Now what?"

Warner thinks for a moment and says, "You stay with the woman. I'm going to head to the main house and see–"

Gunfire erupts above ground, drawing their attention.

Muggs looks up to the cellar's small window and utters, "It's outside the house!"

"These intruders move fast," Warner says. "We need to get out of here!"

The door to the cellar burst open, and three Un-Men start down the stairs, aiming their Uzis.

"Target acquired," they state in their monotone voices. "Will now terminate Pandora."

"Hades!" Muggs curses as he and Warner draw their guns.

The men open fire, and the Un-Men continue down the steps unhindered by the metal barrage.

"Puck! Why won't they die?" Warner yells. "What are they?"

I find my resolve to face Topa again, so I run to the table, grab my things, and then turn the table over. I duck behind it and glance at Warner and Muggs, knowing they're doomed and at that point, I don't care. The only thing I care about is that this will give me a second chance at Topa.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Muggs asks as he turns to me, and then a bullet strikes his shoulder, knocking him back.

Warner grabs him, pulls him behind some crates, and continues firing at the three intruders as they reach the bottom of the stairs. "Die already, you puckers!!"

Muggs leans on the crate to support himself and returns fire.

I dash for the rear of the room as bullets spray by me and in the back, I find a door. I turn the knob, but it's locked, so I stand back, fire at the old lock, and kick in the door. I sprint down a tunnel, hearing the two men die as the Un-Men overrun their position. I'm so full of sorrow and grief, it doesn't matter to me if the men die. Hatred fills my heart. They got what they deserved for working for such an evil man. I follow the tunnel to a ladder as bloodlust fuels my manic dash, and I climb to the surface where a manhole opens into a group of apple trees. No Un-Men or guards battle in the immediate area, so I take the time to check over my weapon. My heart slows since the danger's gone for the moment, and the blue Ult L-E fades as the Ultra-Epi dissipates in my blood.

A raven cawing from the branch of an apple tree draws my attention. I peer at the bird as it seems to be searching for something. Maybe the raven has also lost someone dear to him or maybe... I focus on happier thoughts. Maybe the raven is looking for someone who's dear to him so that they might be reunited. I notice the tree. Red fruit litters the branches, and I feel the warrior within me who's in the rages of battle change to a woman who's in mourning. Preacher loved apples. He had one almost every day. I close my eyes and hold the bloody book to my chest. Topa will die this time and nothing will stop me. I rush toward his office, determined to finish him off no matter how grave the sin is.

Smoke from gunfire and small explosions linger in the air as I hurry by several bodies and one Un-Man they managed to disable. Electrical snaps fly from several holes in its head. The humans' red blood and the Un-Man's black oil mix in a small pool, and I feel a smidgen of guilt. Those men wouldn't be dead if the Un-Men weren't hunting me, but the guilt leaves me as hatred returns, drowning the small voice that utters save them. I duck behind a hedge as four men rush past me.

Fright pales their faces as one shouts orders, "We have to pull back from the gates and meet at the armory. We need heavy artillery."

The group of men hurries on. The thought of helping them against the unstoppable monsters never even crosses my mind, too much animosity clouds my thoughts. I step from the hedge, turn to continue to Topa's office, but pause, narrowing my eyes. Another obstacle pops up to block my revenge.

lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

Ultra-Epi courses through my blood as my eyes produce a cerulean lambency. There are two Un-Men nearing my position. Fear doesn't fill my heart but rage as the warrior's side of me returns, and I grip the gun ready to eliminate all who stand in my way as an Un-Man steps from the side of a building to my left and another steps from a cluster of trees to my right. I've encountered five different models of Un-Men over the past year. The Rogue, they discontinued; it's a Type Four. The one to my left is a Type Two; it's a six-foot-six thin model with dark brown skin and a South African accent. The other one's a Type Five; it's a six-foot large muscular model with a Russian accent.

"Target acquired. I and another unit have cornered the Pandora Project," the dark skinned Type Two or T-2 relays over its I-Link.

"Commencing attack," the T-5 states.

I raise my gun and fire once to my left and once to my right. I'm going to kill Topa. The Un-Men fall to the ground and lie still as downed trees as I rush on. I'm not going to let anyone or anything get in my way!

Chapter Ten

Caught In A Crossfire

Earlier...

Kimberly's view...

At the northwestern corner of Topa's estate, I pull my black knapsack from the pile of leaves I had hidden it in, throw the grappling hook over the wall, and climb the cord to the top. I spot four cars parked by the north gate with twelve men near them who are carrying Uzis. I drop back down into the estate.

Great, just great! Who are those guys?

I whip up on the rope, forcing the grappling hook to fall down, and then I stow it in the knapsack. Gunfire erupts at the north gate as I race for the center of the estate. I'll try to go over the south wall. Gunfire continues as Topa's men shout, some in panic and some as their last cry. I duck inside a tool shed before six men rush past me. Weedwackers, a lawnmower, shelves, axes, and other lawn tools fill the outbuilding. I wait in the dark structure until I hear the men move on into the distance, and then I leave quietly. A man comes running up from the other direction.

"I've spotted an intruder," he shouts over the WM-B's intercom.

Another man joins him before I fire four times, hitting the first man twice in the stomach, and he falls, shrieking as blood pours from his abdomen. The other two bullets hit the second man in the shoulder and chest. The first man's shrieks alert three more to my position before he dies. I shoot one in the face before the second guard tackles me, and we struggle for my gun until a shot discharges. I moan and roll the dead man off of me, and by then, the third guard has his weapon trained on me.

"Toss your gun!" he shouts. "Now stand up."

I stand, raising my hands.

"I should kill you where you stand, but Topa will want to interrogate you."

If he only knew I had already killed his boss, he might have thought differently about keeping me alive. My luck is looking up.

He grabs my knit mask, pulls it off my head, and my hair frizzes out, and then I tell him, "You shouldn't have done that."

He questions, "Done what?"

I stare at him coldly as I say, "You shouldn't have seen my face."

I duck and twirl, sweep kicking his legs out from underneath him, and I draw my tactical knife from the sheath on my right calf. I jump on top of the man and slit his throat before he can react, and his blood splatters my face. I hate up close Closings. They're always so messy. I look at him with no emotion or remorse. I've been trained well. I stand from the dead man and scowl. The assignment has turned into a wetworks. Blood drips from my knife, so I bend and wipe the blade on the man's pants. I hear someone running towards me, so I abruptly turn and stand ready to attack the next guard.

Earlier...

Katharine's view...

Avoiding the guards and staying clear of areas the Un-Men are in, I spot a tool shed ahead of me. I notice a lady as the lady stands from a man she killed. I halt, raise my gun, and aim at her. The lady's preventing me from moving on, and I need to get by her and fast. I see the lady's knife and wonder if she's a guard. She's not well armed. I notice the men. No, she just dropped five of them. She can't be a guard. I glance over my shoulder. It doesn't matter who she is. I need to get by her and take my revenge before the Un-Men close in on me.

Kimberly's view...

I freeze as a female guard points her weapon at me. I look at the ground where my PPK lies and then to my knife. The female guard's too far away to lunge at, but I can throw my knife. I study her face. Wait... she's not a guard, that woman's the one from Topa's office. She's the one who couldn't kill him.

Katharine's view...

I start to shoot the lady in the leg when I believe I recognize her, and a sense of joy peeks over the mound of hatred and sorrow I feel. I've never come across anyone I thought I knew, and my mission of retribution loses its priority as I ask, "Have we met before?"

Kimberly's view...

I don't answer her, considering if that woman wasn't able to shoot Topa, what chance is there that she'll shoot me?

Katharine's view...

The lady ignores my question, and I don't know where I recognize her from. I do have to determine whose side she's on, so I ask, "Do you work for the Council or maybe you're a bounty hunter working for the Factory?"

I lower my gun a little, then raise it, and make a face as my heart hammers the bio-mecha warning. I gaze past the lady and realize that I stayed too long and they've tracked me down. I feel my Ult L-E trigger, but the light show doesn't seem to bother the lady for she comes at me with her knife. Instinct takes over, and I sidestep to the right and fire as the lady leaps at me like Tarzan attacking a tigress.

Moments earlier...

Kimberly's view...

I peer at that woman as something happens to her eyes. She must be wearing some sort of electrical device on her face for sapphire flames rage about and make her whole face burn with an angry aura. I look closer but don't see a device. With that woman distracted and muttering like a crazy person, I take the opportunity and pounce, lunging with my knife. That woman reacts much faster than I thought she could. I fear this is my end as she fires, but I continue my attack even as I wonder what the demon-like blue brimstone blazing from her is. The bullet barely misses my face as I bring my knife down. She blocks the chopping blade with her gun and kicks me in the stomach, and I stumble back and notice my PPK at my feet. I can't grab it just yet, so I stare at her for a long moment as if she's Lamia, the child-eating daemon. In all my years as a Life Closer, I've never seen anything like her.

I quickly shake off my dismay and terror and focus on my gun. If I can grab the gun, I can kill that hellish woman standing before me. I start for the PPK when gunfire from an Uzi erupts from the trees behind me, and I dive to the ground. That woman fires again. I roll, pick up my gun, move to a kneeling position, and search the area for my adversary, but that woman's gone. I run and take cover behind the tool shed and look at the line of trees where the Uzi fire came from. Sparks shoot up from among the trees, and I carefully make my way there and investigate, finding two men dead. Both have a single shot through their head, and I realize that woman wasn't aiming at me. I was wrong... that woman can kill, but she didn't kill me. Black blood trickles from the men's heads, and I step closer for a better look. What are they? I kneel to them. Are they robots?

I don't have time for this, so I stand and walk to the dead guard who's still holding my knit mask. I touch my cheek as a dreadful fear creeps over me. She saw my face! Hades! That woman saw my face, and I let her escape!

* * *

Katharine's view...

Rushing into Topa's office with my gun at the ready, I find no guards within and Topa leaning back in his chair with his brains splattered across the wall. I stand there, aiming at the man. We're both frozen in the moment. Sadness and regret wash over me as the gore keeps me fixated.

Tick... Tick...

An old clock sounds, filling the otherwise silent room with the passage of time, and I lower my gun. Am I relieved someone else killed him or am I upset that the privilege was taken away from me? I don't understand my emotions. Maybe I feel a little of both, and I take a step toward him, trying to determine who killed him. I walk to his desk, examining the bullet holes. I don't think it was an Un-Man. Two shots to the head look more like the work of a Life Closer.

Tick... Tick...

The clock sounds away the seconds as I look at the black and white photos of Topa's male relatives who had accused me earlier of being a monster. Time allows my hatred and sorrow to turn into regret and self-loathing. I move to Topa and stare at his terror-filled face, and I'm ashamed of my revenge filled thoughts. It shames me to say, but I don't know if I would have killed him. I'd like to think I would have changed my mind before it was too late but...

Tick... Tick...

I catch a glimpse of a red speckled business card with a flaming bird resting on his desk and pick it up. It's a calling card left behind by a Life Closer to the N.C.P.F. so they will know it's a Closing authorized by the Assassins Guild. A barcode on the back of the card can be read by a specialized H.H.C., which the Noir Civil Police Force carries, and prove the Closing's authenticity.

Deep in thought, I hold the card as a lot clouds my mind, and so it takes me a while before I realize the image is the same. I quickly remove the business card I found at Etna Toys a year ago and compare the two. My heart leaps with excitement. They're almost identical. I review the day's events. The lady I fought... I remember how she seemed familiar. Maybe she left this card. I rush out of the office. I have to find her, and I have to ask her again if she knows me.

I make it out of the estate through the south gate about ten minutes later and run into the pale glow of a pine forest. I follow an old truck road, and it comes to a fork just as a red VX Corvette with the license plate FromAshes speeds off, kicking up dirt. I pause and glance at the two business cards. I might have found someone who knows me. I stare at the trail of smoke and dust left behind by the car. I found the lady once, I can find her again. I stare down the road till the dust settles, then place the business cards in my back pocket, and make my way to the north side of the estate. I walk up to the gnarled oak and grab my backpack and jacket and then when I sense the Un-Men are near, I hurry back into the woods.

Tall scraggly Lantern Pines fill the forest and scent the air. Scientists created Transgenic Plants that could survive without the sun, and they created the Lantern Pines by genetically modifying a yellow pine with the extra-genome of a lanternfish, producing a tree that created its own light. The bioluminescence lasts several days after the needle's death, so even the forest floor produces a ghostly glow. The Dry Clouds cease their grumblings, forever looming over the land like a menacing specter. An owl hoots as I dash by its roost, and I flee till I sense the Un-Men have ceased their pursuit. The Ultra-Epi Light Emissions dissipate, and my heart ends its warning, so I slow to a walk, and a possum scurries past. I stop in a small clearing, undo the Velcro of my armor, remove the black Ravlek Vest, and look down at my bloodied white t-shirt. I pull a clean one from my backpack, take off the soiled one, and put on the new, and then I hold the bloodied t-shirt and Bible to my chest as I sit against a tree on a bed of glowing needles. I close my eyes to sleep. Preacher, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm alone in the world again, and I miss you... I miss you so much.

Time slowly passes, but I can't sleep. Over the past year, I have learned the Ultra-Epi that courses through my blood gives me abilities, but it also causes side effects. It took me a long time to figure out that the music box counters the side effects. All I have to do is listen to the tune, go into a trance-like state, and make myself vulnerable to attack. I feel anxious; it's the first side effect of the Ultra-Epi. I stare up at the canopy of ghostly pines. Preacher, forgive me. I weep without tears. Forgive me for not saving you.

My nose runs, and I wipe it with the back of my hand. Within the serenity of the forest and in the calming effects of crickets chirping and the wind rustling pines, a realization sinks in. Preacher, what would you think of me? In my anger, I hurt people. I let people die, and I almost killed a man today. Something I promised myself I would never do under any circumstance. I hug the book tighter. Oh Preacher, can you forgive me? God, please forgive me.

I remove the music box from my pocket, open its lid, and let the melody lull me. I don't care if I'm caught. I only seek relief from my anguish, and my eyes droop as I enter what I call the Drifting Time and leave behind sorrow, regret, and hatred.

Chapter Eleven

The Siblings

Russia, the Light Side of the planet...

October 13...

Wednesday...

10:42 A.M...

Two pilots sat in the cockpit of a V.T.O. (Vertical Take Off) thirty passenger plane. Engineers designed the aircraft to fly through the polluted barriercumulus of the world's Dark Half. The pilots prepared for takeoff on one of many circular pads among hundreds of other V.T.Os. landing and taking off.

In first class, Natasha pulled up the shutter of the plane's small window, and she looked at the sun as it rose over Moscow and pulled her white fur-lined, long, black coat close to her neck. "Look Nikolai." Her Russian accent was thick as she spoke, "Is it not beautiful?"

"Yes, Tasha," her twin brother said. He wore a white pinstriped gray business suit, and a gray Fedora hat rested on his lap. "As beautiful as you."

"I heard the place we are going is grisly."

"Yes, so remember that image." He motioned to the ball of orange and told her, "Where we are going you will not see the sun again." He burned the image into his mind. "Noir exists in endless night."

She turned to him and her face was full of worry. "Nikolai, I have a bad feeling about this trip."

He stroked her long black hair and took her hand. "I know you do not like to fly. Be brave, my sister."

"It is more than that." She looked into her brother's dark brown eyes. "I feel the place we are going is full of wickedness."

He squeezed her hand gently as he said, "Do not fear, my sister, I will always be by your side."

The engines of the V.T.O. roared as the airport's tower cleared the plane for takeoff. The copilot double checked the two moveable nozzles on each wing. They produced the thrust for vertical liftoff. He pulled the V.T.O. lever down, turning the nozzles horizontal and pushed the lever up to return the nozzles to vertical. The copilot gave the all clear, the pilot ignited the thrusters, and the aircraft lifted straight up into the sky. The plane rumbled and shook with the effort as Natasha buried her head in her brother's shoulder and after a few minutes, the copilot pulled the V.T.O. lever down, and the aircraft shot across the horizon.

Nikolai leaned over, closing the shutter. "It is over, we are in the air."

"I would not be here if it was not Voice who asked us to go to Noir for this Closing." She glanced at the shutter as she added, "Be where only plastic separates us from falling to the ground."

"Take courage, my sister." He reached into his coat pocket. "I will give you some sleeping pills, then you can let this flight go by while you dream."

"You think my fear will be any less in sleep? I will only have nightmares of crashing."

He gently squeezed her hand, so she would look at him. "Tasha, have I ever let anything happen to you?"

She stared into his strong face. "No."

"Do not fear. I will protect you. Rest. I will watch over you."

"Yes, rest." She closed her eyes, remembering a wolf name Salandra from a Russian tale and quoted a line Salandra had said. "I will fight back death in my dreams."

Nikolai remembered the same story where a raven named Draven replied to the wolf, and he said, "And I will keep death away from my branch."

She took the pills from him and popped them into her mouth.

"Let us change seats," Nikolai requested. "Once you are asleep, I would like to look out of the window and witness this Curtain they speak of that divides the world."

She nodded. He grabbed his hat, stood, removed a briefcase from the overhead compartment, and switched seats with her. Natasha asked for a pillow and a blanket from a female attendant. The attendant returned with the items, and Natasha took them, put her seat back, and soon fell asleep.

Nikolai opened his briefcase and removed an old detective novel called Blood Harvest by Kit Sire. He opened the book to the first chapter titled "The Woman Wore Green And The Man Gray". Nikolai read the first chapter to himself, "It ain't no easy street for a gumshoe. Long days and even longer nights... That's me, an old bloodhound for hire. Throw me a couple of scraps, and I'm yers for the day, week, whatever it takes. If yer looking for a dame or a mucker, I'll track them down."

Nikolai leaned back and grinned. "Kit knew how to write a good story. I feel like one of the mobsters in his novels." He straightened his white tie and in a gangster accent, he said, "I'm a Hood that brings the Big Sleep. A Cat ready to blow one down. In a couple of days, I'll finally have Tommy, and I'll be my own Chopper Squad."

He continued reading as a boy with his mother sitting across the aisle from him glanced at his book.

"What's that?" the boy asked as he pointed.

Nikolai peered up from the text. "This?" He lifted the book. "It's a novel."

"A novel?" The boy wrinkled his brow. "What kind of book is that?"

"A novel tells a story. They are very rare. This one is an antique. The Corporate Senate banned the making of entertainment books long ago. Today you have to have a license to carry a novel and many other forms of books."

The boy eyed the novel curiously. "I still don't know what it is. What's a story?"

Nikolai glanced at the boy's mother who was sleeping. Surely his mother told him tales of knights and dragons in the privacy of their home.

The boy's mother woke and saw her son talking with the stranger. She noticed Nikolai reading a novel and looked at him with disgust as if he was smoking dope. She changed seats with her child, forcing the boy to sit by the window.

Nikolai returned to his reading. Hours went by, and a female attendant walked up to them, leaned over his sister, and touched his shoulder.

"Sir, we are coming up to the Curtain."

"Thank you." Nikolai raked his hand over his face and through his buzz cut.

A male passenger in the seat in front of him said to a woman, "I hear the barriercumulus spreads almost an inch every week. If the Corporate Senate doesn't find a way to stop the Dry Clouds, the whole world will be covered."

"Is that right?" the woman asked.

"As right as anything you hear," the male passenger replied.

If that was true, Nikolai's homeland would be consumed by the barriercumulus. He opened the window shutter; it was still day. He looked across the wing at about 2 o'clock and in the distance, a charcoal-gray wall of clouds spread across the horizon and consumed the sky. The dark barrier raged with movement as if two creatures fought for dominance.

Nikolai cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me."

The female attendant turned. "Yes, sir."

"Do what you call Dry Clouds, do they always look that way?" He motioned outside.

She glanced out the window and replied, "No, only the outer area known as the Curtain acts this way. Once we're inside, they will look like normal storm clouds."

"Thank you."

Nikolai watched the barriercumulus as streaks of purple lightning lit up the mass. He didn't see them as normal storm clouds. He didn't see anything normal about them.

The seat belt sign blinked on with a ding as the V.T.O. ascended, flying above the Dry Clouds of the Earth's Dark Half into the high Troposphere. The female attendant walked the aisle, making sure everyone had their belt buckled.

"Excuse me," Nikolai said.

The attendant turned to him and spoke, "Yes."

"Why are we flying above the clouds and not through them?"

"As you can see, the Curtain is very turbulent, so we fly above the Dry Clouds until we have passed the Curtain. We will be flying about five miles in." She glanced over her shoulder when she heard another attendant call button, and then the attendant turned back to Nikolai. "It's safer to fly above them and then descend once we reach our destination." She started down the aisle to the other passenger. "We'll be over the outer edge of Noir shortly."

He turned to his sister and told her while she slept, "Not much longer and it will be over."

Within twenty minutes, the pilot slowed the plane as the copilot pushed the V.T.O. Lever up, turning the aircraft's nozzles to their vertical position, and the plane hovered. The pilot closed the air intake valves to the engines with a flick of his finger and switched to a stored clean air source. If the plane used outside air while moving through the barriercumulus, the pollutants would cause the engines to clog and die.

"Perhaps my sister is right," Nikolai said as the aircraft started a vertical descent to one of Noir's Airports. "This place is a wicked place."

The plane hit heavy turbulence, entering the Dry Clouds. He feared his sister would wake and panic, but she continued to sleep soundly. A few minutes passed, and the shaking subsided.

"If I could have everyone's attention," a male attendant announced over the intercom. "We will be landing shortly, and at this time please pull out the kits that were issued to you when you boarded. Our staff will be walking around to assist you." The male attendant paused as he helped an elderly lady remove a kit from underneath her seat.

Nikolai closed the shutter and gently shook his sister. "Tasha, wake. We are landing in the Rising Sun Sector of Noir, and soon we will be on a hovertrain to the Hellenistic Sector."

"Hmm..." She stretched and yawned. "Already? I did dream as you said. I dreamed of a sky full of stars."

He said, "I did tell you."

The male attendant announced over an intercom, "Inside your kits, you'll find an instruction booklet." He raised the handbook. "A Winnow Mask type A." The attendant lifted a small triangular device with a rubber rim which fitted over the nose and connected to a filter. "And the Liquid Oxygen Spray is known as L-O." He raised what looked like a fat ball-point pen. "Please wear the WM-A anytime you go outside, and it will keep you from feeling the ill effects of the pollutants caused by the petroleum based clouds. They can be dangerous for those not used to living below Dry Clouds." He paused. "The triangular filter fits over your nose. Breathe in through this filter and out through your mouth. The basic design mask has to be held to the face. If you find that you are outside a lot, you can purchase an upgraded version of the Winnow Mask that is handsfree." The attendant demonstrated and removed the mask. "If you should feel queasy or light headed, inject yourself with the L-O Spray and this will give your bloodstream a burst of oxygen."

The attendant paused for a moment. "Place the spray's head on your bare wrist or neck, press the red button on the top, and the solution absorbs right through your skin. Your body will take some time to get used to the air, so please keep your kits with you at all times. These items can be replaced at any drug store. If you have any questions, an attendant will help you."

Natasha looked at the mask. "They are not very fashionable, are they?" She whined, "I wish to be done with this Closing."

Nikolai turned to her. "Patience, sister. We will return to Mother Russia in time."

Chapter Twelve

Nexus Apartments

4:35 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Kimberly's view...

I drive my Corvette into the parking garage of the Nexus Apartments. I had stopped earlier at a gas station and changed out of my black clothes into a blue pantsuit and made sure to wash the splattered blood from my face. I get out of the car, make my way to my apartment, go in, and throw my knapsack on the couch in the living room. I go to the hall, walk to my bedroom, go into my bathroom, lean on the sink, and stare at myself in the mirror.

"Idiot!" I shout at myself. I let myself be seen. I turn on the faucet and watch the water run down the drain as the security I had in my job washes down the tube. I should have gone after that woman and killed her but no... I look up and stare at myself again. I panicked and ran. "Hades!"

I glance into my bedroom as the water continues to run. The screensaver of the flaming phoenix flies across the laptop, and the glow lights up the dark room, casting shadows across the floor and walls. I turn and face the sink and splash some water on my face, trying to wash away my anxiety over what the Assassins Guild will do to me once they find out my identity has been compromised. I dry my face with a towel then go and sit at my desk. I press the space bar to wake up my laptop, hoping also to wake up from this nightmare of my own making, and then I send an instant message and within minutes, a reply comes back.

"Topa's Closing is complete then," Voice types. "The payment will be placed into your account. Did you run into any trouble?"

I start to type no, but then I backspace and respond, "About a dozen robot-like men showed up and killed everyone in sight."

"Must be some sort of bio-mecha, perhaps the next generation of assassins," Voice types. "Most likely someone there was their target, but was it Topa? We'll probably never know, at least you got out."

I rake my hand through my hair, knowing the grave mistake I've made, and I move my hands toward the keyboard to write, and they shake with dread as I force myself to type, "Someone saw my face." I hit the send button and stare at the screen, and two grueling minutes pass with no reply. "What should I do?" I hit the send button again, hoping for a reply and praying for some guidance and solace.

"Find them and kill them. You know it is very dangerous, Phoenix. Even I don't know who you are or what you look like. If your identity gets out, you will become the target, and then the Assassins Guild will be forced to deal with you." The statement ends and another follows. "But before that happens, you know I will step in, and you don't want me to rectify the problem. You know my means."

I do know and there's no reprimand for a Closer. I grab the sides of my desk and grip them tightly. With Voice and the Assassins Guild, there's only one way to deal with a Closer who has lost their anonymity, and it's the sanctioning of their own Life Closing.

"Don't contact me again until this matter is taken care of. Voice signing off."

I glance at the dark afternoon through the bedroom's window as I roll my chair away from the desk. I have to find that woman, but I don't know her name. I only know she was there to kill Topa because he hired an Illicit Closer to murder someone named Preacher. I don't even know what he was a preacher of.

Hades... This is going to be impossible.

* * *

Two days later...

October 15...

Friday...

6:49 A.M...

Katharine's view...

Hundreds of street lights light up twilight as a horde of bats darts across the ever dark horizon. The sidewalk goes on forever in both directions as I make my way across West 1000 Avenue and pause, looking at the tall Nexus Apartments. It's the building of the Phoenix's nest. I walked all night and morning to reach this part of the Hellenistic Sector, and my shoes are like ten-pound dumbbells on my poor sore feet. I adjust the strap of the backpack that crosses my chest as I study the sensors on a ten-foot concrete wall lining the building's perimeter. They consist of a black sphere the size of a volleyball and are spaced about ten feet apart along the top of the wall. I follow the sidewalk to a gate, and on the gate's metal bars is a gold shield which is the Sphinx Corporation Emblem. I run my hand over the shield and then over a winged creature in its center with a woman's head and a lion's body. The creature's right paw is lifted, and its claws are extended. The emblem seems to plague every place I go. Even the Council and the Factory are departments within the Sphinx Corporation. I study the perimeter and wondered if the sensors provide more than security for the building. I put my hand up toward a black sphere, and I feel and hear a hum coming from the device. I visualize a bio-mecha approaching one of these things and being deterred so these spheres must act as a barrier.

A white van pulls up, and a man gets out and walks up beside me. He's dressed in a white uniform and I get no dangerous vibe off of him as he says, "Excuse me."

I move out of his way, and the man tips his white cap. "Thanks." He presses the button to an intercom positioned beside the gate and releases it.

"Welcome to Nexus Apartments," a man's voice says over the intercom. "I'm the manager. How may I help you?"

The delivery man presses the button again and speaks, "Delivery for Kimberly Griffin. Security Code 10 Alpha."

After a few seconds, the manager replies, "Code verified. Proceed to the gate that faces Knot Street, and I'll let you in."

The delivery man goes back to his van, starts up the engine, turns down Knot Street, and parks as I follow the sidewalk around the corner, walk by the vehicle's passenger seat, and notice it's empty. The delivery man gets out, strolls to the back of the van as he whistles, and then starts on a crate.

I watch as the man struggles to load a rectangular box on a flat cart, and then I ask him, "Where's your partner?"

"What did you say?" he questions as he pauses, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

I lean on the back of the van. "Usually at least two men do this kind of job, so where's your partner?"

The delivery man points his thumb over his shoulder. "He's out sick."

"Would you like some help?" I motion to the apartments. "I was on my way up."

He looks me over. "I'm not supposed to cause of business policy but... You aren't some murdering psycho are you?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Well then..." He places the wooden crate on the cart. "If you could push from behind, this thing weighs a ton."

I head to the back of the cart and push on the crate. The apartment manager and a security guard meet us at the gate.

The old white haired manager looks over his H.H.C. "Kimberly Griffin isn't home right now, so I'll show you in." He examines the delivery man's employee badge and types the ID number on the Hand Held Computer. "Follow me please."

The delivery man pulls the cart as I push, and we move to the glass front doors where another security guard buzzes us in. The manager leads us to a service elevator, and we along with the guard head up to the thirty-first floor. Security cameras monitor the hallways.

The manager stops in front of Kimberly's apartment and commands, "Apartment H, unlock. Manager code 12 Beta."

"Voice recognized as Nexus' Manager," the Apartment Computer System states. "Opening door."

"Wow," the delivery man exclaims. "Automated apartments. I bet you can tell the lights to come on."

The manager says, "Our apartments are equipped with voice commands and manual utilities, giving our tenants the best in security and luxury."

"I'll have to look into getting one of these places," the delivery man states.

He pulls the cart down a small entryway as I push and once we're in the living room, the delivery man starts uncrating a cedar chest, so I go and look around. The lady's apartment's huge and covers more than three thousand square feet. The entryway empties into an open kitchen with four barstools at the counter, a large living room is off to the left, beyond it down a hall are two bedrooms and two baths, and off to the right of the entryway, a small round table sits next to a window.

I do think it's odd that the table's so small, considering it's the only one in the apartment. I ask the delivery man, "Do you need any more help?"

"No, I got it from here. Thanks."

I leave, note the apartment's letter H on the door, head for the regular elevator, go up to the roof, and wait. I watch what little traffic travels West 1000 Avenue as I grip the icy metal railing that surrounds the top of the roof. Finally, I'll have some answers once I meet the lady who owns the two business cards.

A cool breeze sweeps in, chilling the air and my thoughts, so I zip up my athletic jacket, but it does little to stay off the cold. I have no idea what I'll learn from the lady, so I clench the jacket over my heart with my right fist as if in pain. I dread discovering the truth about myself, wondering if it will be worse than the unbearable ignorance I've endured the past year. Whatever happens next, it'll change my life forever.

End Katharine's view...

Back in Apartment H...

The delivery man finished his work and set the cedar chest against the wall in the living room out of the way. He placed the crate pieces back on his cart, had the manager sign for the package, and headed back to his van and once inside the vehicle, he made a cell phone call.

"I would like to speak with R.G." He waited for a moment. "Hello, Delivery Man here. Yes, my work is finished, and as per your instructions, I permitted Katharine to enter with me into the Nexus Apartments. She's still there." He paused for a moment, listening. "Yes, so far security doesn't know she is still on the premises. Do you want me to monitor the situation?" He started up the engine and drove the van, heading away. "Understood. Returning to base."

Chapter Thirteen

Confrontation

7:22 A.M...

On the roof...

Katharine's view...

I lean on the metal railing and continue staring at the road below and at times of quiet stillness, I feel the barriercumulus, and their presence is like an evil eidolon. If this is true, who does this phantom look-alike belong to?

The Dry Clouds softly roll and unsettle me, and they have done so ever since I first laid eyes on them, but there's also something else about the Dry Clouds; it's a hint of familiarity. I can't explain it, but today the foreboding's stronger than the familiarity. Is it because they're unnatural? Does everyone feel this way around them or is it just me? I watch them go by and look for shapes within the clouds and see an old sailing ship being chased by a sea serpent. The Dry Clouds have been around for thirty-two years and have been given the name the Great Specter of Noir. People also say that they're a mystery. I chuckle. In a way, we're the same.

An hour goes by, and I notice the Corvette pull into the parking garage. I jump up and down like a little girl who has just got the pony she wished for. I want to run back down and meet her and ask her all my questions, but I contain my excitement and wait a few more minutes, giving the lady enough time to arrive at her apartment. I don't want to come at her like some crazy person, so I'll have to keep my cool.

A few minutes later...

Kimberly's view...

I hear a ding and the whoosh of the elevator opening and then someone approaches me as I put my mail in my dark green purse that matches my pantsuit. I stand outside of my apartment and realize how odd it is that I've never seen any of the other tenants the whole time I've lived here. I need to at least get a glimpse of one of my neighbors, so I turn. My Closer training kicks in a second before I have a chance to panic as I spot that woman I've been hunting. For two days, I scoured Noir and turned the city on its head, but I couldn't find anything on this mysterious woman, not even her name. I drop some of my mail as I open my purse to grab my PPK, but then I remember the floor's security cameras. I can't kill her out here, not unless she threatens me, so I wait for that woman's next move.

Katharine's view...

Elated and full of expectations, I stop about two yards from the lady. Finally, after a year of knowing nothing, I'll have some answers. I can't stand my excitement anymore, so I question her as if I already know the answer, and I'm ready to give my old friend a big hug, "Are you Kimberly Griffin?"

The lady looks confused and very on edge like I'll pull my gun on her at any moment, but it's tucked away in my backpack. She must see me as threatening, so I smile real big to show her I'm a safe person as I repeat, "Is your name Kimberly Griffin?"

Kimberly's view...

"Yes," I reply as I step back and size up that woman who's smirking at me like some lunatic ready to murder me. I put out a lot of feelers while I was looking for her, maybe she already knows I've been hunting her and has come to strike before I can. I realize something else. She knows my name, so I have to eliminate her now. I reexamine her cheerful face, and she looks happy to see me like we're best friends and we haven't seen each other in years. I can't figure out why she's putting on this act and not attacking me unless she's also waiting to strike when there are no witnesses.

She says to me, "I had a contact in the Noir Civil Police Force look up your address from your license plate. It cost me two months worth of water rations." She starts to ask me something and looks over her shoulder at the cameras. She removes two business cards, shows me the blood speckled one, and then questions me, "Is this you?"

I grip the gun in my purse so sure that woman reaches for a weapon, but I'm surprised to see the business cards. I can't figure out what kind of game she's playing, and a million things go through my mind. That woman tracked me down and came all the way to my apartment. Is she hoping to blackmail me? Only an idiot would think they could blackmail a Life Closer.

I scan the hall to see if anyone else is on the floor and ask, "What do you mean, is that me?"

Katharine's view...

"I've been looking for..." I start to answer and then decide I shouldn't say the Phoenix out loud. Someone could be listening, and the lady might not want anyone else to know, so I continue, "I've been looking for this... Umm..." I flip the card over, look at the picture, and turn it back to her. "This firebird. Is this you? If so, I'd like to talk."

Kimberly's view...

I can't let her leave, and I can't kill her out here. I glance at the hall's cameras. If I can only get that woman into my apartment, then I can... I wickedly grin as I visualize myself shooting that woman and then I see myself standing over her lifeless body. All I'll have to do is call Voice for a Guild Prep/Cleanup Crew, and I'll have this annoyance taken care of.

That woman reaches down, picks up my dropped mail, and hands it to me as she asks, "This isn't a bad time, is it?"

"No, of course not," I answer.

It's almost too easy but still, I have to be on my guard; it could be a trick.

"Come on in," I say as I take the mail from her still wary of that woman and command, "Door, unlock." The door slides sideways. I motion for the woman to go in first, and then I follow. "Door, lock," I command, and the door closes, entombing us.

The Apartment Computer System turns on the lights as we enter each room as it tells me, "Welcome back Ms. Griffin and welcome guest. The apartment–"

"Mute," I command.

That woman walks down the entry, stops, and studies the kitchen. She walks over to the faucet, glances back at me, and says, "I see no scanner for a Water Ration Card. Your water isn't portioned?"

I look at the sink then think of the shower and bathtub and realize I never thought about it. Most of the city's given an allotment for the month and here I enjoy unlimited. I'm wary of that woman's suspicious questions. Is she trying to distract me or is she really this naive?

I answer, "No, my water isn't portioned."

"Oh, you must be rich then."

She sets her backpack on the black leather couch, walks over to the small round table, and sits as if she's here for a visit. I start to pull out my gun, notice the cedar chest in the living room, and turn my attention back to that woman.

She sees the teacup I left earlier that morning and states, "Tea. I love tea." She turns wide-eyed like a kid asking for a piece of candy. "Could I have some, please? I haven't had tea in a long time."

"Tea?"

I glance at the kettle on the stove then at my purse. She has to be joking. She has to be here to kill me. I'm not sure what to do, but then I think of Topa's Closing. Maybe I can find out what was going on there, so I'll play along for now, and I answer her, "Sure, why not. Let's have some tea. Is black okay?"

I don't wait for an answer as I carefully position my purse on the counter, so I'll have quick access to my gun.

"Yes, black tea is fine."

Keeping a close tab on that woman, I fill the kettle, place the stainless steel pot on the burner, and turn it on high. "So..." I place two sets of cups and saucers on the counter. "Who are you and why have you come to see me?"

Katharine's view...

Heavyhearted over Preacher's death and still weary from the endless running, I laugh a melancholy chuckle as I stare at the table. "That's a good question."

I reach into my pant's pocket for my dearest possessions. They've been with me since the beginning, and maybe now one of them will lead me to the answers I desperately seek and a place I yearn to belong.

Kimberly's view...

When that woman reaches into her pocket, I go for my purse and start to grab my gun until I see the items that woman removes. She places a small silver box, two business cards, and a worn paper on the table, and then she opens the paper. She answers as she seems to be studying the writing, "Katharine, I think. If this note is meant for me."

I could shoot her now that that woman's distracted and end this game. The kettle shrieks, stealing away the moment, so I turn the burner off, remove the pot, and pour hot water into the cups. The aroma of orange fills the air as I say, "Note? I don't understand."

"Huh?" She turns to me. "Oh, I guess you wouldn't. You see, I don't know who I am." She looks back to the items. "The only clues to my identity are these three things." She seems unsure herself as she adds, "At least, I think they are."

What an unlikely story? I carry the two saucers to the table with my purse strapped over my shoulder as I try to figure out her ploy. I set a teacup in front of her and one at my spot. Either that woman is very clever or very stupid.

"See..." she says as she gives the paper to me.

I read the note, "Katharine, you must not fail. This is your last chance to redeem yourself. I know you can complete your mission, my dearest Kat. I am counting on you. Signed, R.G." I peer up from the note. "Who is R.G.?"

She shrugs.

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?" I ask as I hand back the note.

She folds the paper, picks up the business cards, and then explains to me, "For the past year, I've been trying to figure out how these clues fit in my life, and now I've found a person who belongs to one of these items." She slides the red speckled card across the table. "I found this at Topa's." She places the second one beside the other. "This one I've had."

I look over the blood covered business card I left beside Topa, pick up the second business card, and ask, "Where did you get this one?" I examine it more closely. "This is an earlier design from years ago."

Katharine's view...

"I'll start from the beginning."

I dip the tea bag in my hot water several times, drain the bag with a spoon, and place it on the saucer. I breathe in its citrus scent and stare at the brownish liquid. Sitting here seems so familiar to me like I've been here before.

"About a year ago, I awoke in the abandoned Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse with no memory. Beside me on a table was this note–" I begin as I tap the paper and point to the other two items, "–that business card, and this music box." I look at the backpack on the couch where I stowed the Beretta. With an aversion to having to carry the gun, I add, "And one other item."

"What you're saying is, you don't know who you are, and you think because you have one of my business cards, you're supposed to find me? Okay... You have. Now what?"

I pick up the honey bear, draw a smiley face on the spoon, and whisper, "Fly... fly away, sad, sad day."

Kimberly's view...

What's that woman doing playing with the honey? She has to be out of her mind coming into my home like we're friends.

"Now what?" that woman repeats my question as she shrugs. "I don't know. I was hoping you knew me." She seems to be examining my face again as she inquires, "Are you sure we haven't met? You look very familiar, but I can't place you. It's kind of like when you wake from a dream. You know something happened but all the details are fuzzy."

"No, we haven't met," I answer, irritated, and then I remember our first meeting at Topa's estate and decide I might as well get some information from her before I eliminate that woman, so I state, "I am curious. What were those things you killed at the estate? Were they some kind of robot and why were they there?"

Her gaze becomes distant, exhausted, and dismal as she replies, "They're bio-mechas, model Un-Men." She flushes as if she's a little embarrassed. "They were there to hunt me."

"Hunt you?" I chuckle, thinking she made it up. "Why are you so important?"

"I don't know. They call me the Pandora Project."

First her names Katharine and now her name's Pandora. I wish she'd make up her mind or come up with a better story. I decide to continue playing along like I somewhat believe her and ask, "They? Who are they?"

"The Council. A man named Argus said they were monitoring me and watching me through the tests." She mutters as her eyes show fatigue, "And there have been so many tests."

"Pandora..." I repeat, and then I remember a story I heard long ago. "I've heard of her. She was a woman who opened a sealed box from Zeus and let all good escape from existence, so are you supposed to be the woman who doomed the world?"

Katharine's view...

"Let all good escape?" I utter. I never considered the significance of the project name.

Kimberly answers nonchalantly, "Yes, Pandora caused Mankind to suffer."

I stare out the window at the dark day for a few moments, wondering if my destiny is to make people suffer. I don't want anyone to get hurt, so many people have already been hurt because they knew me. I feel conflicted inside about my purpose.

"I guess this was another dead end," I tell Kimberly as I push back my chair. "I guess my search continues. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll show myself out."

"Are you so naive?" Kimberly stands and reaches into her purse. "Idiot! Do you know what I do for a living?"

"You're Kimberly Griffin." I glance at the business cards on the table. "You're the Phoenix." I pause as the horrible realization sinks in. "You're a Life Closer." I stare at the splattered blood on one of the cards. "You kill people." Appalled by my own naivety and Kimberly's apparent ruthlessness, I turn my gaze to her. "You kill people for money."

"Idiot! And to think I was worried I let you slip by at Topa's estate." Kimberly removes her gun and screws on its silencer. "You do understand I can't let you live." She shakes her head in a tisk-tisk manner. "You've seen my face, know my alias, and even been in my apartment." Her expression shows outrage and disbelief. "I don't think I've ever met someone so stupid!" Kimberly takes a moment to regain her cold detached demeanor. "You were searching for me, hoping to find answers but–" With indifference and a just business attitude, she raises the gun and aims it at me as she says, "–all you've found is your death."

End Sample

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