 
# The Deleted Ones

Martin Kolacek

## Copyright

The Deleted Ones

By Martin Kolacek

Published by Martin Kolacek on Smashwords

Cpyright: Martin Kolacek, 2012

Anchor English Proofreading

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

## Chapter1: In the Concrete Paradise

Lerm came to his senses, sitting in the cockpit of a fighter which was falling uncontrollably towards the ground. He had no idea of what the hell he was doing there, how he had got there, or how to fly a fighter. With the onset of a sudden self-preservation instinct, he tried to push, pull or rip off anything which indicated some sort a function with its colour or shape. He managed to make the fighter twitch a bit but could not to stop it proceeding in its suicidal direction. Only a few seconds to the impact remained, although each of them seemed like an hour to Lerm. Where was the story of his life which was supposed to be replayed in front of his eyes when he was about to die? Or, at least, some of its parts? Even a little bit? No matter how hard he tried to recall anything while attacking the plane's interior vigorously, his memory didn't seem willing to cooperate at all. Just a few hundred metres... four hundred, three hundred, two... Lerm closed his eyes in terror and grabbed a handle which he had loosened during his previous uncoordinated efforts. One hundred meters, fifty, the last second of his life...

His ear drums exploded in the noise of the impact. He heard the melted steel starting its short flight against gravity just to fall down among the burning debris. He wasn't dead. He opened his eyes. His seat was flying through the air, leaving the exploding fighter behind. He was still holding the handle of a catapult which had saved his life. When the parachute opened and he started descending slowly, Lerm laughed loudly. He had just outlived his own death.

He landed near an ugly concrete structure at the edge of a big city. The sun was shining brightly. The wind which had been blowing around his body a few minutes before was now blocked by a mass of flaming concrete. However, the sun's rays were as hot as ever. Lerm thought he now knew how a lobster feels when thrust into a pot of boiling water. He paused in surprise. That was a memory! He clearly recollected the pot and the lobster twitching inside. Sadly, that was all. He couldn't remember where and when had he seen that. He sighed, untangled himself from the parachute, and set off to find the nearest shade. He went around the whole building before finding any. He sat in the shadow of a long-abandoned bunker and tried to find some saliva in his dry mouth to fight his thirst.

If only he knew where he was! He knew he needed water. Shouldn't he also know where to find it? Come on, brain, work!

It was pointless. The only thing he remembered was his name, and even regarding that he could have been wrong. He was able to speak, although he had a distinct feeling not all people spoke the same way. What else did he know? He was a human and he'd die if he didn't find water. Apart from that, his memory included only information like: 'It is advisable to remove your pants before you pee.' But that was all. Lerm sighed and stood up again. His head felt dizzy and he thought he'd faint. He didn't though. He set out on his journey to find water again, hoping for a miracle.

After half an hour of swift walking, he finally reached a building which seemed inhabited. There was a young man sitting in front of the door. When he spotted Lerm, he jumped up enthusiastically, approached Lerm, shook his hand and kissed him. Lerm shook in terror. No, he wasn't so timid he couldn't stand being kissed by a stranger. But the hand and the lips felt... well... inhuman. They were cold and somewhat spongy. Lerm wasn't sure how a human touch should feel but he knew this was wrong. He touched his own lips. They seemed much warmer and compact.

'What's the matter?' the man asked.

Lerm was still watching him, frightened. He was remembering the touch again and again, unsure what had just happened.

'What is the matter?" the man asked again.

'I don't know...' Lerm whispered uncertainly and touched his own lips again, 'those lips...'

'What's wrong with them?'

'The skin is... wrong.'

The man grimaced as if he were badly offended: 'Oh sure, so the lord is a Garddonn, eh? I suppose you are better than we are?'

'What?'

'Being arrogant should decrease your rating, shouldn't it?'

'What?' insisted Lerm. 'Look, I don't know what a Garddonn is and I don't have a clue what are you talking about. I just know your lips feel strange. Like... well... not human.'

'Well, they are not, are they? Neither are yours.'

'Of course they are.'

'Oh sure,' the man sniggered, 'you wouldn't notice the difference, would you?'

Lerm realized this person was obviously out of his mind. The memory of the touch faded away and Lerm came to the conclusion he had become confused by the heat of the sun so his reaction had been inappropriate. Therefore, he decided to get straight to the thing which he needed most: 'Could you, please, tell me where I can find anything to drink? I'm very thirsty.'

'Oh, so that's how they describe dehydration these days, right?"

'Look...' Lerm paused. This wasn't even worth an answer.

'The ionic mix can be found in the centre, of course.'

'What centre?'

'In the community centre! What's wrong with you?'

'How do I get there?'

'Just follow that street and turn left at the square...' The man stopped dead. 'That's a strange stimulator you're wearing.'

'A stimulator?'

'Yes, a smell stimulator. What label is it?'

Lerm didn't know if he should laugh or be angry. This was a really unique way to offend someone. 'For God's sake, it's normal to sweat in this weather, isn't it?'

The man's expression changed abruptly. His eyes were gleaming with fear. 'Do you... do you mean you are a living one?'

'Do I look dead?'

'No, I mean... are you a human?'

'Of course I'm a human, for God's sake! What the hell do you think I am? A kangaroo?'

'Are you from the Moon?'

'Pardon me?'

'Have you come from the Moon?'

'What?' Lerm felt stupid but he really didn't know what to answer. He had no idea where he was from.

'Alright, welcome to the Earth, then.' The man looked as though he wanted anything but to speak to Lerm right now, or even to be in the same place. 'The registration office is located in the community centre. The replicators as well. Oh, and don't drink the ionic mix - it will kill you. And we certainly wouldn't want that, would we? Or, at least, you wouldn't. I am happy I had the opportunity to inform you about it; they will tell you more in the office.' And he disappeared into the house.

'A madman,' Lerm thought and continued in his quest to find water, in the direction indicated by the strange man. Although he didn't know if a replicator in a community centre would solve his problem since its main purpose, as it seemed, was to provide some sort of an ionic mix which was fatal to him anyway.

There were more and more inhabited houses and people. At first sight, it seemed like an ordinary human society. People walking up and down the street, sunbathing or resting in the shade. But there was one very odd thing about them. Most of them were in pairs and most of them... well... were enjoying each other's presence. Closely. No matter if the pair was of different sexes or of the same one they were all holding hands, kissing, playing. It seemed like a bizarre lovers' paradise which, instead of a beautiful blossoming meadow, was inside a depressing greyish concrete estate. Those few people who were not in pairs had an unnerving habit of kissing anyone who maintained eye contact for at least a few seconds. Lerm soon learned to keep eye contact only with nice women and avoid it with anyone else. But it didn't do him much good, for even being kissed by beautiful women was a bad experience. Most of their lips were cold and spongy like the lips of the first person he'd met after he'd crashed. Lerm's chest was soon full of anxiety. It made breathing difficult.

He had walked for about an hour when a neon sign caught his eye. Loud music was coming out of the door below. Something in Lerm's head connected such a place with serving drinks, although, again, he had no idea where the information came from. He walked in.

He found himself inside a gloomy old pub with couples interacting closely all over the place. A few of them were sitting on the bar, while others were performing twitching movements on the dance floor. Lerm couldn't tell if they were dancing or having sexual intercourse. Something in between, probably. A barman who seemed lost in thought was pouring a shockingly blue liquid into a glass. When he saw Lerm he came over to him. He was the first person who didn't kiss him on sight. Which Lerm was grateful for.

'What can I get you?' the barman asked in a booming voice.

'Something to drink,' answered Lerm who still couldn't believe his luck at not being kissed.

'Ionic drink okay?' the barman asked, and put the glass of a blue liquid on the table.

'Sure, of course, if it doesn't kill me since I'm a human,' Lerm laughed. 'You wouldn't believe who I met right...'

'A human?' the barman interrupted him. 'It will kill you then, of course.'

'Come on! And who do you have it for, eh? Squirrels?' Lerm lifted the glass.

'For bots, of course.'

'What bots?' Lerm took the glass away from his mouth again. The smell of the liquid made him bilious. It reminded him of a cleaning agent.

'For the bots of pleasure. Where are you from, man? The Moon?'

'I...'

'You look confused. What has happened to you?'

'I...' Lerm wasn't sure if he should tell the truth. But everything was odd and he needed answers, 'I'm afraid I've lost my memory,' he said at last.

'I see. You should go to the upload centre then, they may have it there somewhere.'

Was it a joke? Or an insult? But the barman didn't seem to mean it one way or the other. He took the ionic mix out of his hand and filled a glass for him with something which looked pleasantly like water. Lerm didn't protest in any way. And he was glad he hadn't. It really was water. Its touch on his tongue felt like diving into a sea after a year in a desert.

'Another?' the barman asked.

'Sure,' but then his memory came with another issue. It was like it always came to torture him, never to help him. 'I don't have any money,' he said.

'Man, you really are confused. You are on Earth now! Hey, Aardvark!' he shouted in the direction of the podium. Two male figures, who were dancing practically naked close to each other, turned to him.

'What?' one of them asked.

'Come here, Aardvark, there's one of yours here!'

'One of mine? You mean an ant bear has just walked into your pub?'

'Not your favourite animal, you idiot! A human!'

The man called Aardvark ran towards them and looked at Lerm in disbelief. His lover shambled after him. Neither of them kissed him.

'Are you really a human?'

'He is!' answered the barman instead. 'Just seen him drinking that white shit of yours.'

'White shit is cement, Corticoid,' answered Aardvark, obviously following some sort of a long-standing dispute, 'water is transparent!'

'Like I care. Drink cement if you want to.'

Aardvark sighed, took Lerm's arm and led him to his table. Lerm didn't like his naked body being so close but he knew he really needed answers. And these guys might be willing to give him some.

Lerm and Aardvark sat at a table while Aardvark's lover stood nearby with a sad expression in his face.

'Hi, I'm Aardvark,' said the man. He shook Lerm's hand and kissed him.

'Lerm.'

'Hello, Lerm.' He became aware his lover was still standing next to him. 'Sorry, this will just take a minute. Hey, Moulan, come here, my love!'

Moulan approached them reluctantly.

'What's wrong with you?' Aardvark asked.

'I... I just thought that now, when you have a human to pair with you won't want me...'

Aardvark stood up and hugged Moulan, whose naked penis hardened a little.

'How could you possibly think that?' Aardvark whispered. 'I love you and I want to be with you no matter what.'

'Really?' Moulan seemed as if he was going to burst in tears of happiness.

'Of course. The two of us are meant to stay together. I'm just fulfilling my social duty. Now come on, we have to take care of our guest.'

While Lerm was thinking nervously about what Aardvark had meant by 'taking care of him' Moulan kissed them both and sat down next to them. His lips were normal, human-like.

'So? How did you get here?' Aardvark asked.

'To be honest,' Lerm answered truthfully, 'I have no idea.'

'That's strange. And where are you from? The Moon?'

'Why does everyone think I am from the Moon?'

'Most of the people come from the Moon. My parents came from there too. You are lucky you've come here. Most barmen don't allow humans in their pubs. But Corticoid is cool, he doesn't mind. Am I right, Corticoid?' He waved at the barman who obviously thought Aardvark was ordering drinks because he nodded and started filling glasses.

'So, where are you from?'

'I don't know. I don't remember anything.'

'Nothing? That's odd. Well, they can do amazing things with memory these days. But nothing?'

'No. I came to in the cockpit of a fighter.'

'Sh!' hissed Aardvark. 'Don't you say that ever again.'

'What? Why?'

'Because the only humans equipped with fighters are the Moon terrorists.'

'What terrorists?'

'Dumb-asses who kill Pleasurebots. Either because they claim to fight against the order or because they are just idiots who think humans are more valuable than bots.'

'What order?'

'The profile handling system.'

'I don't understand.'

'Neither do I, not entirely. Bots usually know, not us. Anyway, is there anything else you remember?'

'No, absolutely nothing. Do you think I am a terrorist?'

'Very probably.'

'What would these bots do to me if they knew?'

'If you don't feel like killing anyone anymore, they'd do nothing. It has something to do with the profile filter.'

'Aardy,' Moulan whispered, 'you shouldn't speak about this.'

'I know, sorry,' answered Aardvark in the same whispering voice.

'I think,' Moulan continued instead, 'it would be best if Lerm just went to an upload centre...'

'No, it wouldn't,' Aardvark interrupted his partner, 'at least not before he learns more about our society.'

'Why?'

Before he could answer, Corticoid came and put three glasses on the table. Two of them were filled with water, the third with the ionic mix. Moulan took the third glass and drank it.

'You've probably realized,' Aardvark said to Lerm, 'Moulan is a Pleasurebot too.'

'Pardon me!' protested Moulan.

'Oh, sorry, my dear. Of course, Moulan is a Garddonn, that's clear at first sight.'

'Gard... what?' Lerm asked.

'Don't you even know what a Garddonn is?'

'Not a clue.'

'Garddonn is a much more advanced form of a Pleasurebot. His skin is made of noble foam, poured in a dry environment, with great metamorphic abilities.'

'Is he artificially created, then?'

'Of course.'

'Are they robots?'

'Yep. Pleasurebots. Robots created for pleasure. They either get a personality immediately in the factory or you can choose and download any of millions of profiles from the database.'

'Did you choose Moulan, then?'

'No, my Moulan came with a pre-installed personality. I had to understand him first. That's probably the reason I fell in love with him in the first place.'

'And...' Lerm wasn't sure if personal questions were acceptable but this one had been haunting him for some time now, 'have you always been gay?'

'Gay?' Moulan repeated, confused.

'That's how humans describe males who sleep with other males,' Aardvark explained to his boyfriend. Then he turned back to Lerm, 'Didn't I tell you Moulan is a Garddonn?'

'So?'

'Show him,' Aardvark told his partner. Moulan stood up so his lap was at the same level as Lerm's face. Then, his body changed. After a little more than a minute, there was a female Moulan standing in front of him.

'But I like him more as a boy,' Aardvark said. 'Pity it will take a few hours before he can turn back.'

## Chapter 2: The Warzone

Aardvark and Moulan were unbelievably friendly towards Lerm. They even suggested that he should move to their place and live with them until he found somewhere suitable for himself. Lerm accepted their kind offer gladly because the idea of living on the streets in an unknown city scared him. Though he often had to witness their intimate behaviour, for his hosts were anything but shy, it was a small price to pay for the shelter provided. Anyway, Lerm soon realized that publicly displayed intimacy was more accepted in this society. Thanks to that, Lerm soon stopped feeling awkward when observing their private behaviour.

'I will have to go the old Rostan,' sighed Aardvark one day at the dinner table.

'Again?' asked Moulan. 'That's awful! The woman is a fanatic!'

'She sure is. She tidies the whole flat at least three times a week.'

'Oh, she's trying not to bother you much, then; since she requests your services only twice a month.'

'Who is she and what services do you offer?'

After a few days with Lerm, Aardvark had got used to the permanent questions, which he answered with the patience of a parent whose child has just learned to speak.

'A Pleasurebot,' he answered. 'Her life cycle is nearly at its end and she has some weird profile which thinks everyone will speak ill about her if she terminates in a messy flat.'

Lerm had already learned expressions such as 'having a profile', which meant the Pleasurebot's personality, or 'someone's life cycle ending' instead of 'dying'. A Pleasurebot was in fact something like a shell in which a personality had been recorded after it had been downloaded from the internet. If a Pleasurebot died its profile became public on the internet again, ready for another download. That was why Pleasurebots' ideas of ultimate questions was very different from that of humans.

'Alright,' Lerm answered, 'and what service can you provide for her?'

'I'll clean her windows.'

'Windows? Why you?'

'It's my job, isn't it?'

'I thought you could get anything you need from a replicator. What do you need a job for?'

It certainly seemed that way. Did you need food or a drink? You just asked a replicator. Did you need a sweeper? No problem, just ask a replicator. And after all, what would you need a sweeper for when you could choose from the many designs of robotic vacuum cleaners the replicator was able to materialize. Nearly everything could be created that way. Except love, of course. A Pleasurebot had to be ordered from a factory.

'Yes, more or less,' Aardvark answered, 'but there is still some work we have to do ourselves. And you also feel better if you contribute to society. Everyone has an occupation. Corticoid is a barman, Moulan creates games, I clean windows. Humans usually clean windows.'

'Moulan, do you really create games?'

'Sure,' Moulan answered, smiling, 'everyone loves games.'

'And... how exactly do you create them?'

'Well, the usual way. I just have an idea people may love playing kangaroos on the Moon, you know, all the jumping must be fun. So I create some game rules and specify the properties in the replicator.'

'I thought... No offense, Moulan, but how come a robot does a creative job while his fellow human cleans windows?'

'Lerm!' Aardvark snapped at him, clearly much more offended than his partner, 'you still don't get it, do you? Moulan isn't just a robot! He has a complex personality like any human.'

'I know, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but didn't you say yesterday something about a Pleasurebot's brain being different from a human's? That one can do what the other can't?'

'Sure. But it has nothing to do with personality, creativity and so on. More like the nervous system. Hand-eye coordination, for instance. Like the window-cleaning.'

'What is so special about cleaning windows?'

'A Pleasurebot isn't capable of cleaning a window properly. It is a very complex brain process.'

'Excuse me, but I don't see anything difficult in rubbing a glass with a cloth.'

'I said 'properly'. To get rid of all smudges.'

'Even so.'

'What you should know is that there are many different kinds of information a brain must process during window-cleaning. The material is fragile; therefore you must find the right pressure. It must be strong enough to polish the glass but if you press too hard you'll break it. And the smudges can be on both sides. Some of them can be polished out dry but some of them must be wet. All of that requires very precise hand-eye coordination. It's simply too hard for a Pleasurebot to do the job.'

'I see. But don't you think this is sort of servant stuff?'

'To some extent, yes. But we are immigrants in their society so we are glad for any role we can take here. They need us and we need them. If we do the job, others will help us. If anything is broken in our household someone else will come and repair it for us. Or someone creates a great game about kangaroos on the Moon.'

'Funny. I thought humans were somewhat superior to bots, being the original life.'

'You really must be from the Moon, dude!' Aardvark seemed angry, 'how else could you say shit like that?!'

'When we met in the pub, Moulan thought you'd abandon him just because you had met a human. So, I thought...'

'That you are something more than him? You're kidding, right? The only reason Moulan had any thoughts of that sort is because some humans want to have children so they prefer human partners. But that's not true in my case.'

'The two of us couldn't have children, could we?' Lerm laughed to lighten the situation a little bit.

'Well, we could, though it wouldn't be much more natural than the way Pleasurebots replicate. Anyway, I don't see a reason to populate this piece of shit with more pieces of shit like us. There are more than enough humans, to tell the truth. The Moon is full of them. Aggressive, selfish, scheming bastards! They are not worthy of cleaning Moulan's shoes!'

'I wonder,' said Moulan, to interrupt Aardvark's anti-human hate speech, 'what has happened to you, Lerm. You don't remember anything but you have unbelievably old-fashioned ideas about the world. Even worse than most of the humans from the Moon have. But you have no idea where they come from. Someone obviously played a nasty trick with your memory. I think you should go to the Upload centre...'

'No, he shouldn't,' Aardvark interrupted.

'Why?' Moulan asked him, surprised. 'This is the second time you have said that. Why shouldn't he go there? They can perform miracles with memory.'

'Believe me, better to stay out of their way.'

'I believe you. But honey, I thought there were no secrets between the two of us.'

'It is no secret. I just think it is a bad idea.'

'Aardy, look straight into my eyes and say it again! I know you well enough to know when you're lying.'

'What is the Upload centre?' asked Lerm, not only to find out the answer but also to interrupt a potential quarrel between his hosts.

'They handle profiles and modify memories,' answered Aardvark, who was obviously glad of the interruption. 'Ever since Pleasurebots were first created. The human brain is not that different.'

'Aardy has been there once, haven't you?' continued Moulan who clearly didn't want to abandon the topic of why his boyfriend had acted so weird.

'I suppose so. Or, at least, I planned to. I wanted to delete a trauma of some sort.'

'What trauma?' Lerm asked.

'I don't know,' Aardvark smiled, 'which probably means they succeeded and deleted it. Together with the memory of the visit itself. I don't remember what happened there.'

Suddenly, an explosion on the nearby street interrupted them. Then another two, followed by shooting, screaming and more blasts. Aardvark and Moulan fell to the ground. Lerm didn't have to ask what to do this time and copied them.

'What's happening?' he asked, scared.

'That was fucking close!' said Aardvark, suddenly less keen to answer his questions. 'They must be in the street!'

'Who?' Lerm tried again, but still without receiving an answer. Aardvark crawled to the window and peeped through it.

'What do you see?' Moulan asked.

'Seems like humans,' answered Aardvark who had at least a limited range of vision to the street, 'shooting everyone in their way. They have the biomass sensors but they obviously aren't using them. The scanning can't be that quick. They're coming in!'

Stomping sounded inside the house.

'Moulan, to the bathroom! Quick!'

'No! I want to stay with you!'

'Don't be a fool! They won't kill humans.'

'You don't know that for sure!'

'But we have a chance. You'd be killed on sight. Please, Moulan, I don't want to lose you.'

Moulan turned around reluctantly and shambled to the bathroom.

'For fuck's sake, Moulan, run!'

A bang echoed on the door. Moulan ran at last. He was just entering the bathroom when the door exploded. Smoke and dust filled the room and blinded everyone for a while. Then, two men with weapons in their arms came in.

'We're humans!' Aardvark shouted.

'Check them!' the smaller one ordered the taller one. He lifted one hand from his weapon and took out a device of some sort.

The dust settled meanwhile and Lerm had the first clear view of the infidels. In comparison to beautiful Pleasurebots, these two looked like ugly trolls. The taller one who was scanning them resembled a gorilla with overdeveloped biceps. His arms were too big, compared to his small head. The other man was tiny, with restless eyes and a face full of wrinkles.

'They're humans, alright.' The gorilla-man finished scanning and hid the device. Then, he turned to his potential victims, 'Too bad for you we've been authorized to shoot collaborators.' The gun was aimed at Lerm's head.

'Stop that!' the tiny man ordered him. 'You kill humans only over my dead body!'

'And why are we risking our lives here, eh? To shoot a few bots who are going to return in new bodies in no time? If we want them to take us seriously we will have to shoot collaborators!'

'You don't know for sure these are collaborators.'

'They live among bots. That's the only proof I need!'

'We are not collaborators!' Aardvark said.

'No kidding? So how come you don't kill the bots with us?'

'How could we? We don't have any weapons.'

Lerm was pretty sure Aardvark wouldn't harm any Pleasurebot even if he had a full arsenal of nuclear rockets. But Aardvark knew arguing with the terrorists' philosophical views wasn't the right way to save their lives.

'I don't believe a fucking word they're saying!' the gorilla-man turned to his superior. 'They live here. I'll kill them.'

'No!' the tiny man prevented him from shooting them again.

The gorilla-man rolled his eyes and put the weapon down again: 'Why not?'

'You'd love to, wouldn't you? It is your dream, to kill a human, isn't it?'

'What? No, just a collaborator.'

'Sure. You are tired of killing bots that won't cease to exist. But humans, that's a different story! You are fascinated by the idea they close their eyes for the last time. You want to delete someone permanently!'

'And so? I wasn't recruited just because I am good at metal cutting.'

'Yes, but what we don't need is a bloodthirsty psychopath. I'm telling you, we will clean the house and then take these two to the Boss.'

'Fuck you!'

'Fuck you! I'm the superior here in case you hadn't noticed!'

Another terrorist appeared in the doorway, 'Hey, cunts! What's taking so long? The Masses are on their way!'

'So fast?' the tiny man answered. 'How the fuck?!'

'Someone must have given them the word. So kill those two and get the fuck out of here!'

The gorilla-man lifted his weapon again.

'No!' the tiny man stopped him again.

'Fuck you,' the gorilla-man shouted impatiently, 'that was your superior!'

'Paragraph 3,' the tiny man countered, 'a lower ranking officer can disobey an order if it was given in a situation about which the higher ranking officer did not have enough information. Now, get out!'

'Stupid paragraphs!' the gorilla-man shouted, and both terrorists left the room.

Aardvark slid down the wall, sat on the ground and gazed at the destroyed doorway. Lerm realized he couldn't stand either. The fear of death ceased and weariness came. He felt like he was going to faint. He sat down, next to Aardvark. He'd sit there and rest peacefully forever. But it wasn't over yet.

The terrorists couldn't have reached the end of the street before the noise of shooting and explosions came again. Aardvark didn't move but Lerm wanted to know what was happening. A vision of a gorilla-man returning to the house disturbed him like a vampire-based nightmare.

There was intensive fighting on the street, between terrorists hidden behind debris and armoured figures that were approaching them quickly. Normal bullets bounced off the armour of the latter, and only a few high-calibre weapons were able to pierce it. Although the body count was 3:1 in favour of the terrorists, the outcome of the battle had been clear the moment it had started. The terrorists didn't stand a chance. A grenade fell behind the debris and blasted a huge terrorist to pieces. Lerm hoped it had been the gorilla-man.

'Some armoured figures are approaching them,' Lerm commented to Aardvark and Moulan; the latter having joined them in the main room.

'Yes, it's a disciplinary commando,' answered Aardvark who, with the prospect of continuing life, continued in his teaching role. 'If they've arrived so quickly the terrorists don't stand a chance. If any of them gets out of there alive I'll eat my socks.'

'I hope they don't,' smiled Moulan, 'it would be terrible to kiss you then.'

A half an hour later, the battle was over. The disciplinary commandos literally hacked the terrorists to pieces.

'They're done,' Lerm commented. 'Now, they're going from house to house.'

'Are they searching the houses?' asked Moulan.

'Seems like that.'

'You must hide!'

'Why?'

'Because they can access a registry of inhabitants. If they see a human who shouldn't be there...'

'But no one seemed to mind. You are the one who told me I could find my own flat soon.'

'This is a war zone now, understand? What do you think they'd do if they found a surplus human in one of the houses so soon after the attack?'

'Moulan is right,' Aardvark supported him. 'Just shut up and get to the bathroom!'

'But what would they do to me? They are police, aren't they? They won't just kill me, eh?'

'No, but they may take you away. Anywhere. Don't you see we want to help you?'

'I know, but...'

'For fuck's sake, Lerm! Don't you see what's happening here?! Get the fuck in the bathroom and shut the fuck up!'

Only then, after Aardvark had shouted at him, did Lerm finally realize he had been acting stupidly. He didn't really know why he had protested so much. Perhaps because of the shock he had just been through. He was starting to feel he should face his fate boldly and fight all the obstacles. Yes, it was total idiocy. He nodded and ran to the bathroom.

He was crouching under a wash-basin and listening to the voices coming from the main room. Heavy steps which had been sounding through the whole house reached the flat.

'Thank you,' Aardvark's voice sounded, 'thanks for saving us!'

There was a moment of silence. Then, a voice of a squad member answered: 'How did you manage to survive?'

'I've been hiding in the bathroom,' Moulan answered, 'and my boyfriend is a human.'

'They were thinking about killing me,' Aardvark continued, 'but then, they just agreed they'd take me with them. But they didn't, thanks to you.'

'Why did they want to take you?'

'They wanted to check if I am a collaborator.'

'Has there been anyone else with you?'

'What? Why? No.'

'Positive?'

'Sure.'

'Alright. You will go with us for identification.'

'But surely that's not necessary, officer. We will tell you our names and personal numbers.'

'I'm afraid it you'll have to come. We need a DNA scan of both of you.'

'But... we are common people. You can check our names and our official numbers.'

'Gentlemen,' the squad member said resolutely, 'I don't make the rules, I follow them. Either of you could be a masked terrorist. You'll either go with us voluntarily or we will take you by force.'

'But officer, how would a terrorist know our personal numbers?'

'That doesn't matter. If you prove to be who you say you are we will release you. Tomorrow morning, you will be able to look for someone to repair your door.'

'Chm, it will take a week to find someone anyway,' Aardvark grunted and the main room fell silent. The heavy steps left the house.

Lerm didn't have the courage to abandon his shelter under the wash-basin. He sat there and gazed at the tiles the bathroom was inlaid with. He couldn't dismiss the feeling that this wasn't a coincidence and that someone knew about him.

## Chapter 3: Eli Rea

Aardvark and Moulan didn't come back until the next day. They were dirty, tired and in a really bad mood.

'Are you two alright?' Lerm asked, positively worried.

'Nothing a good night sleep wouldn't solve,' Aardvark answered wearily.

'And an ionic drink,' Moulan added.

'What did they want?'

'To be honest, it was all about you.'

'Me?' Lerm's horrific vision seemed more and more true.

'Yep. They saw you in Corticoid's bar and they were informed we left the place together.'

'But it could still be a coincidence. They simply saw an unknown human in a place where a fight happened.'

'Perhaps. Anyway, I think we should help you find your own place as soon as we've had some sleep.'

Lerm felt like he had just been slapped in the face. He was not welcome anymore. Aardvark thought his presence meant a threat to them.

'Good idea,' Lerm answered in a voice which he thought was casual but which sounded hollow and unnatural.

The next day, his hosts led him through streets in which the usual sexual life was taking place. If you couldn't see debris where yesterday's fight took place you wouldn't believe anything had happened. The peace-loving Pleasurebots' society simply suppressed memories of the fight, instead of dealing with its aftermath.

The three companions reached a Community centre after about an hour of walking. Its wall was covered with notice boards and papers. The papers were almost unreadable because of the bright sunlight they reflected back into the reader's eyes painfully.

'Not much,' Aardvark said after few minutes of fighting with the sun beams, 'well, at least not much of quality. But they say here there are some free flats in the north-eastern Mediaham. They've just reconstructed a house there. It's a very nice sector. And just three miles from us. We could visit each other.' Aardvark obviously felt much better after he'd slept and he was trying to be nice to Lerm again.

'Sounds good,' answered Lerm, who had no idea what the Mediaham was.

'Good. Let's try. I hope this hasn't been displayed here for too long. So... the north-eastern Mediaham's coordinator is...' he was tracing the lines with his finger, using his other hand to cast shadow on the paper, 'coordinator Eli Rea. Sounds like a noble lady, two names. People are weird. Anyway, her address is 20 Crimson Heroes, Sector 2. Let's go.'

The Crimson Heroes Street looked just as dirty and crumbled as any other street. They didn't have to search for number 20 though because it was the only obviously inhabited house, with fairly clean external rendering and paned windows. The house's interior was refreshingly cool and shady. Lerm felt like he'd jumped into a fountain of youth.

A door with the label 'Eli Rea' was open and there was a young female Pleasurebot sitting in the entrance hall.

'Good afternoon, gentlemen,' she said and kissed all three of them with the usual cold and spongy lips Lerm hadn't been able to get used to yet. 'Please, come in. Don't hesitate to use the replicator.'

'Are you Eli Rea?' Aardvark asked.

'No, I'm her girlfriend. Rea is talking with a customer so she's asked me to welcome visitors. It has been a busy morning. It's always like this when there is a newly opened house.'

'The one in the north-east Mediaham?'

'I see you already know. Can't blame you. It's a hilarious house and a hilarious sector. It was opened just this morning.'

'We are lucky then!'

'Oh, you certainly are. Half of the flats have been taken already. Even Rea booked one. I'm not sure why since we have a flat, but I suppose Mediaham is better.'

The door to the main room opened after about half an hour and a pair of Pleasurebots came into the entrance room, followed by Eli Rea. She was a fairly pretty woman, in her early thirties, with black skin and rich curly hair. She was well-fed and with very realistic human appearance.

'Thank you very much,' said one of the pair, 'we are really thrilled. We are going to move in tonight.'

'Of course,' Eli Rea answered, 'it's really nice there. By the way, we will be neighbours soon.'

'Great. Until then.'

'Bye.'

The happy couple left the flat and disappeared into the hall.

'Good afternoon, gentlemen,' Eli Rea greeted them in the same official fashion as her girlfriend had done and kissed all three of them. 'Looking for a flat? For three?' She watched them with a curious expression as though she was saying: 'you little devils'.

'No, not for three,' Aardvark corrected her quickly as though he wanted to avoid the suspicion of being a pervert, 'just for one. Our friend here is looking for a place to live.'

'Oh, alright. Tell me your number, then.'

'What number?' Lerm asked, confused.

'Your personal number, of course.'

'I don't have one.'

'How so? Not even a manufacturing one?'

'No, I'm a human.'

Eli Rea stopped dead. She gazed at Lerm for a while. Then, she approached him and, without warning, kissed him passionately.

Lerm was surprised but he didn't feel like protesting. It was great. He felt like he'd been living in a gloomy cave the last few days and he had now found the entrance and walked into the sunshine. He felt blood flowing in the arms she was clinching him with, he felt her saliva mixing up with his own, he felt her warm breasts pressing against him.

'I suppose,' a feeble voice came from the other side of the room, 'I am not moving into Mediaham with you, am I?'

Eli Rea stepped away from Lerm a little and turned to her girlfriend: 'I'm sorry, Kisha, you know how I feel.'

'Yes,' Kisha looked at the floor sadly.

'You know I'd like to have a family. And I need a human male for that. Of course, only if this human male is interested in me.' She turned to Lerm and whispered, 'Is he?'

It was a sort of unfair question and she'd asked it at the perfect time. Imagine a male, considering himself heterosexual, living about a week in an environment where he watches barely clothed people having sex on a daily basis, not mentioning some of them often kissing him. And after such a week when he's starting to have fantasies he'd never imagine he could have a nice looking woman fling herself on him, start kissing him, putting a knee between his thighs and, while she is making him feel her hot breath on his neck she asks a question like that.

Lerm wasn't able to say more than: 'Yes,' and before he could realize what was happening he was lying on a couch, feeling nothing but Rea's body moving on his. He didn't even care they were being watched not only by Aardvark, Moulan and Kisha but also by a few other people who'd come to arrange flats.

'Anyway, what's your name?' Rea asked after Lerm had come to his senses after a monstrous orgasm.

Lerm soon forgot about the incidents which had happened during his first few days on Earth. It's easy to stop worrying when you are occupied most of the time by having sex and playing various social and electronic games whose setting was usually also sexual. Although he was still a little nervous about the public displays of erotic behaviour which were common in the Pleasurebots' society he didn't mind anymore. Moulan visited them very often. Not Aardvark, though. Because when he agreed to accompany Moulan, he usually started a very heated political discussion with Eli Rea. The two of them had very discrepant views on life.

'And what is so great about humans?!' Aardvark shouted during one of their rows. 'For all I care, humans could all die this instant.'

'Yeah,' Rea shouted back, 'if everyone acts like you we will!'

'So what? Look what humans are! Half of the Moon is occupied by conservative terrorists, the other half by anarchist ones!'

'I see, so I suppose you'd rather see them all die and give the world over to the mass products of bioelectronics? Carefully selected so no human-like person would be allowed?'

'I've already said I am against controlled selection.'

'Funny. Because it's the only good thing the bots have.'

'You're kidding!' Aardvark yelled at her. 'So you'd choose only the right children, eh?'

'I didn't say that! It isn't compatible with human society. Unfortunately.'

'Unfortunately? Considering what you are, you'd be the first one dumped.'

'Oh, and what am I?'

'Do you really want to know what you are?!'

'Oh my God,' Moulan whispered to Lerm, with whom he was playing a variation of chess at a nearby table, 'I hate it when he's drunk.'

'Yeah, I do!' Rea shouted even more loudly. 'Tell me! What am I?'

'You're a fascistic mutant!'

'Oh, a fascistic mutant, right?! While you are an anarchistic dickhead!'

'Don't worry, you'll never see my dick! I'd rather fuck a hippo! Same weight but much prettier!'

'I hope so! Because if you stuck out your dick I'd knock it off!'

'How can it influence him so much?' Lerm asked Moulan silently.'

'Alcohol? It doesn't influence him much. He drank too much.'

'Not more than you have, and I don't see you offending anyone.'

'Sure, but I'm a Garddonn. The only thing my body needs is the ionic mix. It gives me all the nutrition I need.'

'Why do you eat and drink other stuff, then?'

'I can eat and drink anything I want. It all goes through my digestion system without a change. But I have realistic taste receptors so I can enjoy food. When it tastes foul the cells will just turn off.'

'Really? That sounds great.'

'It sure is. I can't get ill, feel pain or anything unpleasant.'

'You know, I thought you were called Pleasurebots because you are built to give pleasure to others. But it seems the other way round.'

'Don't you think it would be unfair if we just gave and didn't receive?'

'I suppose it would,' answered Lerm who still had difficulty not to imagine androids as machines built to serve humans. He felt awkward. He tried to change the topic: 'So it just goes through your digestion system, right?'

'Sure. Our bodies ignore it. You just have to avoid drinking the ionic mix with anything else. Because the ionic mix activates the receptors and if they take in other materials they can poison you.'

'Can you die?'

'Of course. It isn't much harder to kill a Garddonn body than a human one. I have a heart, lungs, veins, brain. And if you overload them with the wrong materials they stop working.'

'And what then? Would your profile be just uploaded back onto a server among others?'

'Millions of them.'

'Would there be a way to find you then?'

'No. You can base your search only on personal characteristics. But not on names.'

'Then if you die, Aardvark would be out of luck?'

'Not necessarily. Well, if I was a Pleasurebot he would. The first generation of Pleasurebots was meant to mimic a human life. When a Pleasurebot died it was the same as if a person had died as far as those the bot had lived with were concerned. But no one actually liked that so the second generation, the Garddonni, was equipped with a backup disc. If I die Aardvark could ask for the disc and it would be extracted from my body. If he took it to an upload centre he could put it into a new bot.'

'How?'

'Easy. Any Pleasurebot can read a backup disc and download the personality saved on it. But you can only get a new case in an upload centre.'

'Let's go, Moulan,' Aardvark blundered in and nearly fell on his boyfriend. 'Let's go! I'm not spending a minute more with this conservative swine!'

'Tut tut, Aardy,' Moulan tried to calm him down, 'these are our friends.'

'This bitch is not my friend! She's... she's...'

'Stop that,' Moulan interrupted him. 'You are drunk. Tomorrow, you will be ashamed of what you've said.'

'Yeah! And if we don't leave this instant I'll have much more to be ashamed of!'

'You humans sometimes amaze me,' Moulan said to Lerm and, supporting his barely standing boyfriend, set off home.

It took Moulan a few days to dare to come to see them again. Aardvark didn't accompany him. Moulan apologized again and again for his boyfriend's behaviour.

'Honestly,' Eli Rea said nervously, 'it's alright. I went too far as well. I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with the debate.'

'No problem, calm down,' Moulan tried to calm Rea who was shivering. 'Aardy is sometimes really annoying.' He watched Rea for a while. 'Really. Don't be afraid. It's... Rea, are you alright?'

Eli Rea looked as though she was going to faint any second.

'Darling,' Lerm came to her and hugged her to support her, 'what's wrong with you?'

Rea returned the hug and said: 'You must escape.' She was trembling madly.

'What?' Lerm didn't understand. 'What are you talking about? Escape from where? The house?'

'Not just the house. Go somewhere you won't be found. They're coming for you!'

'Who?'

'From the upload centre!'

Lerm was confused. If Rea hadn't looked so bad he would just have laughed as though this was a joke. But it didn't seem that way. 'Why?' he asked instead.

'Darling,' she answered, 'I'm an agent. I was sent to find you and to find out if you are the one they've been searching for.'

'And who is that?'

'I don't know. They are the ones processing the data. My task was only to find you and observe you. They've just decided. They are going after you.'

'And... is that a bad thing?'

'Yes, it is.'

'But...' Lerm still didn't understand the situation, 'how come you know what someone else is doing right now?'

'Lerm, darling, I am not a human. I am a Garddonn.'

'Oh, sure,' Lerm laughed nervously. Perhaps this was a joke after all, 'and you have been drinking the ionic mix every time I was in the bathroom?'

'Yes, I have,' she sighed and went to the replicator. 'Ionic mix,' she ordered. A glass of a poisonous blue liquid appeared inside the device.

'Wait, that's stupid,' Lerm froze. He watched Rea drinking the entire contents of the glass. Then, she came back to him.

'You're kidding!' he had a problem breathing, this was absurd 'But... but your political opinions...'

'They are from the time I was a human. But don't ask any more questions. You have to go! They're nearly here!'

'I don't understand. Are they going to kill me or what?'

'Yes, they are.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. But you have to leave.'

'Okay, but you're going with me, aren't you?'

'No.'

'Why not? I thought you loved me!'

'Why do you think I'm telling you all this?'

'It doesn't answer my question.'

'I can't go with you. They know about me telling you this right now.'

'So what? Are they going to kill you or what?'

'Yes, they are.'

Lerm was panicking. This was like a very bad dream. 'But that's another reason for you to go with me, isn't it?'

But he didn't receive an answer because at that second, Rea died. Lerm, who hadn't expected it, lost his balance under the weight of her body and fell to the ground with her.

'Rea! Rea! Come on, don't be dead!' He knew it sounded stupid but that was the best his brain could come up with.

'We have to go, Lerm!' Moulan took over Rea's role, 'you can't help her now!'

'What do you mean?!' Lerm shouted and the pain in his chest caused tears to pour from his eyes.

'They shut her down.'

'What does that mean?'

'You know what it means! Let's go!'

'No! I'd rather die!'

'You're acting illogically, Lerm!' Moulan tried to pull him up. Lerm snapped at him and hit him in the face.

'For God's sake, Lerm, they are going to kill you!'

The self-preservation instinct was slowly winning over the sadness he felt but he still wasn't prepared to give up so easily. 'I don't want to lose her,' he tried, looking at Moulan with pleading eyes as though he had the power to bring his girlfriend back to life.

'Alright,' Moulan sighed and said loudly: 'I request a backup disc of a Garddonn labelled Eli Rea.'

Rea's chest started melting down. Lerm was lucky he was already on the ground because the sight of a hole in Rea's corpse made him faint.

## Chapter 4: In the Intercepting Well

'We've got to go!' Moulan was urging him. 'No, don't look there! Just go!' Lerm was trying to turn around to look at Rea's body but Moulan didn't let him. He pulled him through the door to a hallway. At that exact second, the sound of stomping echoed on the first floor. They looked at each other, scared.

'What now?'

'The roof!' Moulan hissed and they ran up the stairs.

The stomping stopped abruptly. Moulan caught Lerm.

'What...' Moulan covered his mouth with a hand. Lerm understood and continued slowly, stepping as softly as possible to avoid being heard. They reached the roof door. The door seemed heavy and its hinges were old and rusty. Opening the door would certainly give them away.

'They're not here!' a voice shouted from below. 'Just the hay bag. But neither the bloke nor the bot!'

The stomping sounded again, coming nearer.

'Now,' Moulan whispered and they heaved the heavy door, trying to open it very, very silently.

The rusty hinges gave up and the door, weighing more than a hundred pounds, heavy simply fell onto the roof, along with both of them.

'Fuck!' hissed Moulan with an unusual passion in his voice, and pulled the disoriented Lerm up. The heavy steps got faster. The pursuers were running up the stairs.

'We're trapped, aren't we?' commented Lerm, looking around. 'What about a lightning conductor?'

'Forget the conductor, it wouldn't be in any better shape than the door.' Then, Moulan gulped and ran to the roof's edge, pulling Lerm with him.

'Stop dragging me around!' Lerm tried to protest but he became silent when he saw what Moulan had led him to.

'So now what?' hissed Lerm, standing over an entrance to a deep well which seemed to go down through the whole house and below. 'Are we going to jump down or what?'

'Yes, we are,' Moulan answered, 'and hope it has rained recently.'

'They're here!' a voice behind their backs shouted. Lerm turned around and saw a huge figure with a cannon-like weapon in his hands. Its muzzle was aimed at his head. At that moment, Moulan pulled him again and a pit opened under his feet.

The first thing Lerm felt was a strong pain in his arm which he half-bumped, half-burned in an impact with the corroded metal wall of the well. Then he fell into water, bumped his foot and started to drown. His first reaction was to paddle with his arms to get to the water's surface. He entangled himself with Moulan and got stuck. Neither of them was able to rise. Luckily, Moulan didn't panic. He pressed himself against the wall and let Lerm, who was endangering both of them, rise to the surface first. Only after Lerm took a huge breath and calmed down did Moulan rise after him.

When he wasn't in danger of drowning he realized how terribly his arm was hurting, especially where the burned place had touched the water. His arm was twitching as if it was receiving electric impulses.

'Don't worry,' Moulan whispered, 'it isn't lethal. I have a much bigger one on my back.'

'Yeah, but you can't feel pain,' Lerm answered resentfully.

'Oh... right... I forgot about that.'

Lerm looked at him and then sniggered silently.

'So?' a voice from above sounded 'Where are they?'

'Down there,' another voice answered.

'In the intercepting well?'

'Yes. What are we going to do?'

'Let's get a water-hose up here. We'll drown them like a fag-end in a crapper!'

It was unusual for a Pleasurebot to use such vulgar expressions. It was weird. Nevertheless, there was a more pressing question on Lerm's mind: 'I hope you have a plan,' he asked.

'I don't,' Moulan answered truthfully.

'Great! So that was the plan, right? To jump into the well?'

'What else would you have done? Jump off the roof?'

'I don't know. Anything. This hasn't helped us much. They'll just kill us a few minutes later. What are these wells for, anyway?'

'For storing rain water, of course.'

'Good. Shouldn't it vent into something?'

'Yeah, a tap,' Moulan answered sadly.

There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by distant voices and steps coming from over the well.

'This wall may be as rotten as the door above,' said Moulan after a while. 'It's just a thin layer of a sheet metal.'

'So?'

'If we just lean against one wall with our backs and against the other with legs...' he was gesticulating to explain his idea. Lerm just nodded and got into the desired position.

'Three, two, one, push!' they both pushed as hard as they could but the well wall didn't move at all. They could have tried to stop a tank with their bare hands with the same results.

Water started falling down the well.

'We're doomed!' Lerm commented without any emotion in his voice.

'We are,' Moulan said, and gasped for breath because he had just gone under the surface. 'We're either going to drown or the water will carry us up.'

Lerm felt a sudden urge to start shouting at Moulan that it was a really great idea, thank you very much, next time I want to die, I'll just let them shoot my head off. And then, he realized that even this situation couldn't justify being such an asshole.

'I'm sorry, Moulan,' he apologized instead. 'You could have lived a happy life with Aardvark if I hadn't come and ruined everything for you.'

Moulan obviously wanted to say something but he didn't make it. As he took a breath to speak the water around them vanished. The last thing Lerm felt was a sensation of falling.

'Stand up,' Moulan whispered, and pulled Lerm to his feet. Lerm's head span, he fell to the ground again as his knees couldn't support his weight. He vomited.

'Come on,' Moulan insisted, 'we've got to go!'

'What happened?' Lerm asked among vomiting spasms.

'The floor of the well couldn't support the weight of the water and it fell in.'

'Not the well! What's happened to me?'

'Oh, that! You had a nasty bang on the head. You were even unconscious for a few minutes. But you'll manage. Come on, we've got to go.' He started dragging Lerm again. He reluctantly stumbled behind him.

'Where are we?' Lerm asked. 'In a sewer or something?'

'Yes. There are many passages we can disappear in. But we have to move before they realize the well isn't going to fill, and they follow us here.'

The journey through the sewers was a terrible, nightmarish experience. The concussion to his brain, together with the horrible smell of the sewer water, made Lerm so sick he fell down and vomited every now and then. Even Moulan understood this wasn't going to work after a while and he let Lerm sleep in one of the alcoves in the wall.

When Lerm woke up it took him some time before his eyes allowed him to see in the sewer darkness. Although he still felt dizzy, he didn't have the urge to vomit anymore. He was hungry and very thirsty. Moulan was lying next to him, watching him with a strange expression, as though he really, really liked him. Lerm felt unsure of what to think.

'How do you feel?' Moulan asked.

'Better,' Lerm answered. 'I suppose asking you if there is anything to eat or drink would be a silly question, wouldn't it?'

'Well... not necessarily. It depends on how much you need it.'

'The hunger is not as bad but I feel like I'm dying of thirst.'

'When I was at your place before we had to run away, I had some drink and no ionic mix. It should be safe.'

'Wait... safe? Do you mean... you must be kidding! That's disgusting!'

'Yeah, pretty much. But it's still better than the sewer water. Garddonni don't digest your food and drink. From the chemical point of view, what goes out is the same as what goes in.'

'And I suppose you'd dish it up to me straight from the source?'

'If it really matters to you I can piss in your palms first,' Moulan laughed.

'Now I wish I'd drowned,' Lerm sighed.

When they set out to continue on their journey, Lerm asked Moulan: 'Do you have any idea of where to go?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Really? I didn't know you could find your way in the sewers.'

'Of course not. We just have to find a way out. I know where to go after that.'

'Where?'

'I know where Aardy is right now. And I know they don't know. Lucky I didn't mention during my visit to your place that he is not at home now. We have to pick him up before he gets back. Then we will go to a place where they won't find us.'

'Do you know where that could be?'

'Yes.'

'How?'

'Rea knew.'

'Well, you haven't answered my question,' Lerm started but he went silent immediately because he realized Moulan had, in fact, answered. 'The disc? Have you got the information from the disc? How?'

'See,' Moulan seemed very reluctant to answer, 'it isn't exactly like that. You can't just get information from a backup disc. But I thought... well... the disc would erase itself in a few hours. Anyway, you can get a new bot only in an upload centre. And if we are going to an upload centre we didn't need to bother escaping from those guys at all. So I... well... uploaded the content of the disc into my own body.'

'Your own body? Are you telling me you are Eli Rea now?'

'Not exactly. Moulan was here first so he plays the main role. But it's weird. I feel like I'm mad.'

'Can you even look like her?' Lerm said the first thing that crossed his mind. The information he'd just received was too exciting for him to care about being polite.

'Theoretically, yes. But I wouldn't do that. Even now, it is very hard for me. I understand how schizophrenia must be terrible. If I changed my body appearance I'd give Rea too much space for me to control.

'I see.' Lerm tried not to look too disappointed while a part of his mind wanted to look as sad as possible to make Moulan change his mind.

In fact, he felt as mixed up as Moulan did. He didn't know whether to be happy that his beloved girlfriend was alive or to be sad because she was chained in the depths of Moulan's mind. He felt horny and sick at the same time. Probably because he'd been granted the prospect of having sex with Rea again soon but, unfortunately, it would also mean sleeping with Moulan who had been fucked by Aardvark on a daily basis. Or he just felt horny because his daily sex with Rea had been cut out, and sick because of his concussion from yesterday, the sewer smell and the fact he hadn't eaten anything for at least a day.

They covered miles and miles inside the sewers but it seemed like they didn't move at all. And what was more, both fugitives found themselves in dead end passages more times than they could count and they had to go hundreds of yards back again. When metallic bars forming an ascending ladder had appeared at last, Lerm didn't even raise his head. He simply didn't believe they'd really found a way out.

'I'll go first,' Moulan proposed. 'Who knows if these rungs will still hold. I am heavier so I'll be a better tester. Anyway, I feel much better than you look.'

Lerm just nodded, to indicate Moulan need not expect any protests from his side, and he stepped away from the ladder to avoid being crushed by Moulan if he was to fall down. Nevertheless, Moulan climbed the steps to the top and opened the manhole. He put his head through, looked around and climbed out of the sewer well. His head appeared in the manhole almost instantly: 'We're lucky. This ends in a park. Come on, climb up.'

Lerm obeyed reluctantly and started climbing the ladder. The steps were dangerously loose, and masonry crumbled away every time Lerm transferred a part of his weight to one of the metal bars. But if they had held a Garddonn who, by definition, was much heavier, they should hold Lerm too. So he calmed down and increased the speed of his climbing. And then, without warning, one of the rungs gave way.

It was like watching a movie in slow motion. Lerm felt his weight was balanced farther and farther from the wall. He was staring at the metal bar in his hand which was now just a useless piece of garbage, unable to save him in any way. He shot his second hand forward to try and reach anything to hold on to. It just swayed in the air with no effect. His right foot slid from the rung it was standing on but the other one got stuck and he could not release it until he was in a horizontal position. His back hit the concrete floor hard. It took his breath away. He thought it was the last minute of his life. His empty lungs seemed unwilling to breathe ever again. His head started spinning and his vision began to fade.

Someone took his hand and pulled him to his feet. His lungs accepted the air and his brain let him see his saviour Moulan again.

'Screw that shit!' Lerm swore angrily and straightened his aching back out. 'why do I have to fall all the time? How can it support the first person and then give up for the second one?!'

'Seems it simply isn't your day,' Moulan smiled at him and Lerm had a feeling he could see some of Rea's features in his face. 'Let's go again. You climb first this time. I will be climbing after you so I can catch you if you fall. Try distributing your weight on as many rungs as possible, especially with your hands. Try changing rungs quickly so you hold a different rung with each hand most of the time. Okay?'

Again, Lerm felt the urge to start shouting at Moulan that he hadn't fallen because he was stupid but because the ladder had given way. And again, he suppressed that urge and just nodded that he'd understood. It wouldn't be fair to confront Moulan, who had been more than friendly to him.

Lerm grabbed the first rungs and, remembering Moulan's suggestions, started climbing up again. His stomach clenched every time a metal bar he grasped twisted in the wall. His fear grew bigger with each step he took. He had fallen some six feet and he still wasn't more than half way up the ladder. It was like some sort of stupid lottery. With each step, he was closer to the goal but a fall would be even more disastrous.

He got past the place where he'd fallen. Thrusting his hand up through the empty place where the bar had once been was hard and frightening but he managed. This was the border. The fall would be worse than the first one from this step on. His back sent a sudden explosion of pain as if to remind him how much was at stake. Another few steps. Sweat was pouring down from his forehead. And suddenly, a bar gave way again and masonry spilled onto his head. He pushed himself against the wall instinctively and a foot slid from the rung step it was standing on. Everything went slow-motion again. He dropped the unusable bar he had been holding and shot his free hand forward to catch anything. He was now hanging onto one rung with both his hands. Masonry was spilling out but the bar held.

'Feet!' Moulan ordered. Lerm obeyed and distributed his weight onto a foot which was still half on a step.

'Hand!' Moulan ordered again and Lerm, in a nightmarish attempt to hold onto anything that seemed as though it could save his life, obeyed again. Holding a different bar with each hand, he remained pressed against the wall.

'What are you doing? Climb!'

'I can't. I must rest!' In fact, he didn't need to rest but he felt that when he was pressed against the wall, he wasn't applying as much outward force to the bars out as when climbing. Climbing meant he had to rely on each rung he was holding onto much more.

'You'll rest when you are out of here!'

'I can't.'

'Look, the longer you hold onto one rung the more likely it is it will fall out.'

'Couldn't we just go back and search for a better ladder?'

'Fuck you, Lerm! I said, climb!'

Somehow, having an angry person shouting at him gave him a little strength. That's why he continued in the ascent, although pressed inconveniently too much against the wall. He half expected to fall down at the first rung. But the rung held. And the next two. He reached the manhole. Why, for God's sake, had anyone designed a manhole nearly three feet from the wall?

'This is it, I'm going to fall,' Lerm thought, and bent backward to grab the edge of the manhole.

Lerm was lying on his back and trying to ignore the dull pain in his back which was throbbing from his loins to his shoulders. He was staring at treetops and felt a warm wind which was caressing his face. He had done it!

Moulan covered the manhole and came to him.

'It's good,' he said, 'I know where we are. This is the Park of National Unity. Aardy should be near here. I'd suggest you stay hidden somewhere in a bush. I'll be away for few hours. I'll also try to bring some food and water.' He turned around and set out. It was unbelievable how full of strength this Garddonn still was. Being a Pleasurebot clearly wasn't that bad.

'Moulan,' Lerm stopped him.

'Yes?' Moulan stopped and turned his head towards him again.

'Thank you.'

Lerm didn't have strength even to crawl into a bush. He just fell asleep where he was lying. It was nearly sunset when he woke up. His head was dizzy from thirst and his stomach was aching from hunger. It seemed that a few hours had passed since Moulan had left but even minutes seemed too long for him. He stood up. His knees didn't give up, which was a good sign. The only problem was the permanent back ache. He looked around and found what he wanted. A bush with unknown red berries. He didn't know if they were edible, or even poisonous, but his thirst was greater than his fear. He chewed the berries, sucked the juice and spit the flesh out. The berries were terribly bitter but he didn't mind. When he'd quenched his thirst a bit, he found a tree with some small round things lying around. His damaged memory connected these with the term 'nut' and a way to use such things. Lerm crushed a nut's shell and found the small meat inside. He didn't know if the nuts were edible but, again, his hunger was stronger than his fear. He guzzled all the nuts, even the rotten ones. Then, he limped to a nearby bush and fell asleep again.

## Chapter 5: Hotel of Pleasure

As much as Moulan was nice to Lerm, Aardvark was nasty to him. He shouted a bunch of abuse at Lerm as soon as he arrived in the park with Moulan. Lerm didn't react and continued eating a sandwich Moulan had brought him.

'You eat like a pig, don't you, you lazy scum!' Aardvark continued in his abuse. 'Just sit and let the others do everything for you! And then ruin their lives! We've both been nearly killed twice! And Moulie is now infected by that fascistic...'

'Aardy, please,' Moulan interrupted him.

'I'm sorry, darling. I know it must be hard for you. But isn't it true? She got a body in exchange for doing dirty work for them! If she hadn't been an agent she'd never have been allowed to get through the filter.'

'Rea wasn't that bad,' Moulan answered silently. 'She had strange political views but that's all.'

'She sold herself out!'

'What would you do,' Moulan raised his voice, 'if you had to choose between being an agent and ceasing to exist?'

'I know exactly what I'd choose! Don't make excuses for her!'

'I will. Because now, I'm her as well. And I'm telling you she didn't want to do that. And when she saw she'd been endangering Lerm she was sorry. That's why she sacrificed herself.'

'Herself?! The only person she sacrificed is you! She knew you'd download her.'

'You're being unfair to her now!'

Instead of answering, Aardvark turned to Lerm: 'How could you even let him download her?!'

'He didn't know, Aardy,' Moulan defended Lerm, who remained silent. He knew Aardvark's malice was justified. In fact, Lerm had nearly caused them to be killed twice and he had caused Moulan to download Rea into his body. It was also his fault they were now fugitives with nowhere to go.

'So, what are we going to do?' Aardvark asked after he'd calmed down a little. He was speaking strictly to his boyfriend. Lerm wasn't sure if Aardvark was ignoring him because the sight of the traitor would make him explode again, or if he just wasn't the least bit interested in Lerm's opinion.

'We need to hide for the time being. Somewhere with a replicator, of course.'

'Great!' Aardvark snapped ironically. 'That will be easy, requesting a flat with a replicator without having to show our IDs.'

'Of course not. A personal flat is out of the question. We can't afford that.'

'So? Where else could we go? We can't wander among community centres forever.'

'We can't enter even one. They'd check us there as well. We need to go somewhere we can work and hide for some time.'

'Where? Corticoid's?'

'It would be the first place they'd look.'

'So? Where else?'

'The Hotel of Pleasure.'

'You're joking! Didn't I tell you I'd never enter the place?'

'Exactly. And you also told Rea. If we help them run the place we could live in our cubicle for eternity.'

Aardvark said a few dirty words and turned to Lerm: 'I hope you realize this is all your fault!'

The Hotel of Pleasure was clearly a business of the worst kind. A combination of a sex shop, a brothel and a hashish den. The luxurious-sounding word 'hotel' had nothing to do either with the quality, or with the establishment's purpose. It was a wide, low building, probably a former hangar or a warehouse, into which the owner had put a huge number of small textile cubicles. Some of them contained mattresses, some tables and armchairs, some more curious things, like whips and chains. But people usually brought their own equipment. The reason why people visited the place was that when you'd locked yourself in a cubicle no one interfered or even cared what you did there. This gave Lerm an absolutely new point of view on the Pleasurebots' society. Although it was more than accepting towards sex in public it wasn't as understanding about many things which were considered weird or perverted. You were allowed and encouraged to kiss, cuddle, to have coital, oral or anal sex. As a couple. But if you wanted to have sex with more than one person, to sleep with absolutely unknown people, or to experience something even more unusual, like SM, you had to lock yourself in the Hotel of Pleasure. And not just for a sexual enjoyment but for everything which brings pleasure. No wonder the hotel's textile cubicles reeked of hashish and opium.

'Bawd', as the old Garddonn who ran the place was called, never asked job applicants for their IDs. Since the cubicles often contained really distasteful surprises, such as vomit, excrement or dead junkies who had just got their golden dosage, everyone who wanted to work there was welcomed. That's why the hotel's staff consisted mostly of very strange figures, usually escaped convicts.

'I wonder,' Lerm said to Moulan one day while working together on clearing a particularly filthy cubicle, 'why don't they just come here and round everyone up? I suppose all the wanted criminals are here, aren't they?'

'I suppose that's exactly the reason why they don't do anything of the sort.'

'That makes no sense.'

'Why not? They have all the convicts in one place which they never dare to leave. And all these guys have to work hard. There is no community service as filthy as this one. It's like a prison, only the criminals run it themselves.'

'But any of them can leave the place and commit another crime.'

'Would you?'

'I suppose not. But I haven't committed any crime. At least, I don't think I have.'

'That doesn't matter. You don't become a criminal by committing a crime. You become a criminal when the authorities consider you are one. Even if you kill me right here where I'm standing there would have to be an authority to tell if it was a crime. The point is, if you are a fugitive from the law and they're looking for you, possibly to kill you, you wouldn't leave the place. Believe me, most of the people who come to work in the Pleasure Hotel will spend the rest of their lives there.'

'That's a very encouraging prospect,' Lerm sniggered.

'Better than being shot, isn't it?'

'I suppose,' Lerm murmured, staring at the ground, 'I miss Rea,' he whispered then. He didn't want to cadge for sex, nor to perform emotional extortion. He was just expressing his feelings. Moulan had been acting strictly as Aardvark's boyfriend since they'd entered the Pleasure Hotel. He'd never expressed any feelings towards Lerm. They were sometimes to be guessed from Moulan's eyes but were never pronounced. Lerm understood the situation and he didn't want to interfere in his friends' sexual life in any way. Nevertheless, seeing three or more people locking themselves together in the Hotel's cubicles made him feel that the whole pair-making habit was just some sort of a weird game.

'But Rea is always here, isn't she?' Moulan answered, 'I'm Rea.'

'I know. But you never let her out. Not even for a moment. You're Moulan above all.'

'I am Aardvark's boyfriend. And I am true to him.'

'Would it be an infidelity if you were Rea? You'd even look like her, wouldn't you?'

'Well, yes, but...'

Lerm knew he was scum. Now, he actually was cadging for sex and he was performing emotional extortion. He was exploiting Moulan for his good heart. It wasn't fair, considering how much this Garddonn had done for him. But then, Rea came to his mind again. He couldn't stop. 'Anyway, this place is different, isn't it? All these groups of people mating together...'

'And wouldn't you like to find anyone else? There are so many possibilities here, with all the groups of people...'

'How long will Aardvark be washing the canvases?' Lerm got straight to the point. 'At least another hour, right?'

'But I can't...'

'Not you. Rea. Give her some space and we will see what she has to say on the matter.'

It was obvious what Rea would say on the matter. Moulan had had female sexual organs just for few seconds and he was locking himself in a cubicle with Lerm. This wasn't completely Rea though. More like a compromise between the two travellers in the Garddonn's body. But Lerm didn't mind. Moulan was a nice person and every little detail that was reminiscent of Rea overpowered all the imperfections belonging to Moulan. Even the most significant one, the fact that this body had slept with the sickening and unfriendly Aardvark.

'What's wrong with you?' Aardvark asked his boyfriend when they were sitting at the dinner table, 'you're so quiet.'

'It's nothing,' Moulan lied, 'I'm just tired.'

'If you were a human I'd say you have some sort of health problem. Even your skin has a weird colour.'

'Has it?' Moulan seemed scared, obviously thinking he hadn't covered all of Rea's tracks yet. 'Well, there may be something wrong with my body.'

'Someone should examine you. There may be a doctor here.'

'If there are any, no-one will tell you.'

'You're probably right,' Aardvark sighed. 'Come on, I'll put you to sleep. And I'll examine you to see if there is anything broken or something.'

'That isn't necessary. I'll just lie down and...'

'What do you mean by "not necessary"? I love touching your body. Come here,' and he drew nearer.

'No, wait,' Moulan tried to stop him but not quickly enough. Aardvark hugged Moulan. And he stopped dead.

'Why do you...' he started his question but he never finished it. The reason why his boyfriend had female sexual organs came to him so quickly he didn't need to ask. He looked Moulan in the eyes. Moulan looked down. Then, Aardvark turned to the other offender. Lerm just shrugged. He was positively surprised at how good he felt. Humiliating Aardvark was somewhat self-rewarding. Sure, his conscience would certainly kick his butt soon... if Aardvark didn't decide to do it himself. Before Lerm knew what was happening, he was lying on the ground and a furious Aardvark was hacking at every available part of Lerm's body. Moulan was shouting and trying to pull him away but he wasn't successful. Lerm knew he deserved it, and this feeling weakened him for a while. But the self-preservation instinct won at last and, after two nasty blows to the head, he gave Aardvark a kick with his knee. Aardvark shouted in pain and rolled sideways. Lerm turned to him and, with all the force he could muster, shot an elbow into his opponent's face. Aardvark's nose literally exploded with blood. The fight ended. Moulan was now holding Lerm, who was so full of adrenalin he was still trying to deal another blow. Only when Lerm's head had cooled a little did Moulan release him and approach his partner to treat his wound. But Aardvark pushed him aside so fiercely his boyfriend lost balance and pitched on his back. Aardvark then disappeared into the depths of the Pleasure Hotel.

The next few days were purgatory for Lerm. Aardvark, now with a permanently curved nose, ignored not just Lerm but even Moulan, which made Moulan break down and cry for hours every time they met. Lerm knew he should help him somehow but he was more and more sick of Moulan's hysterical scenes. He told himself this was understandable but he still felt Moulan was an emotionally unstable wacko. And what was more, Moulan wasn't able to do much work, which meant Lerm even had to take his shifts. It made him very tired. And when he'd finished the double-shift the only thing to look forward to was returning to the cubicle he was now sharing just with Moulan and listening to the Garddonn's continuous laments. His suggestion that Moulan might feel better if he was Rea during the hard times caused another outbreak of hysterical crying. That's why Lerm's decision to straighten out the lovers' relationship wasn't as altruistic as it might seem.

'Aardvark!' he shouted when he met him. 'Hey, Aardvark!'

'What?!' Aardvark snapped at him. 'I have no desire to talk to you.' His curved nose turned away from Lerm to show this discussion was over. Lerm followed him.

'If you don't want to speak with me, fine. Don't. But please, speak with Moulan.'

Aardvark continued like he hadn't heard him.

'Come on, it's my fault. Moulan is just too nice. He wanted to make me happy.'

'Make you happy, did he?!' Aardvark shouted at him and he seemed about to attack him again. 'He has no business making you happy! If he is my boyfriend he can't fuck every asshole just to make him happy!'

'But he didn't want to sleep with me. I just asked him to let Rea out so I could speak with her and see her again.'

'Well, he should have known how it would end!'

'I knew. But he thought he could handle it. He wanted to let her out just a little bit.'

'Of course he couldn't handle such an egoistic slut! The two of you were really made for each other!'

'Aardvark, please,' he swallowed the words he'd wanted to use in retort to the 'egoistic slut' remark, 'Moulan is innocent. And he has been just lying in his cubicle and crying for the last three days. It's destroying him. I am the one to blame. Don't make your partner suffer.'

Aardvark cooled down a little bit. He was watching Lerm with an uncertain expression. 'I can't believe a bastard like you would be able to think about anyone's good but his own.'

'Moulan saved my life. And he is a very nice person. I want him to be happy.'

'Are you...' but Aardvark didn't finish this sentence. Because in the very next moment three huge Garddonni appeared next to them and a police insignia was held up in front of Lerm's eyes.

'Your ID?' one of the Garddonni asked loudly.

'What? Here?' Aardvark seemed surprised, 'well... alright...'

'Not you! Just the gentleman here.'

Lerm turned to Aardvark for some help but Aardvark was as shocked as he was.

'You don't have one? Let's go then!'

'But I haven't done anything!'

'We'll see, won't we? When your brain is scanned,' the Garddonn answered with a matter-of-fact kind of voice and two pairs of hands dragged Lerm towards the exit. There wasn't a single person who seemed to care about them. In fact, most of the people in the Pleasure Hotel tried to disperse with the others as quickly as possible.

## Chapter 6: Upload Centre

If this was a prison then the society of Pleasurebots was a really enlightened one. He had his own replicator and sanitary facility, a soft bed with an anti-decubitus surface, a 2d TV and a small holo-projector to watch 3d films. He felt more like a respected state dignitary than a prisoner. At least until three huge Garddonni, not unlike the ones which had dragged him there, grabbed him roughly and pulled him through a passage that reminded Lerm of a hall leading to a hospital operating theatre, although he, of course, didn't know out where such a comparison came from. The door at the end of the corridor opened and his eyes were half-blinded by a sharp light coming from a room that actually looked like an operating theatre. The middle of the room was occupied by a contraption which reminded him of a dentist's chair but with a huge number of strange devices around it. None of them seemed very pleasant. Lerm was glad the guards didn't make him sit in the chair but on a stool nearby. Until then, Lerm hadn't realized there was a man in a white gown, standing next to the window. He was smiling nicely.

'Thank you, gentlemen,' he said to the Garddonni in a soft and melodic voice, 'you can leave us now.'

The guards left the room without a word.

'I hope the accommodation meets your requirements,' the man smiled so widely his shockingly white teeth shone out and he stretched out his arm to shake Lerm's hand. 'I'm Doctor Keynes, the head uploader.'

Lerm didn't know how to react. He decided not to shake hands which seemed adequate in the current situation. Doctor Keynes pulled the hand back but his smile didn't fade a bit.

'I suppose you are a little nervous about how the whole business happened. I sympathize.'

'Where am I?' The words came from Lerm's mouth.

'Do you not know? In the upload centre, of course. I'm sorry for the kidnapping. But we thought you wouldn't come on your own.'

'Of course not! You tried to kill me!'

'I suppose you are referring to the unfortunate business with the water.'

'An unfortunate business?!' Lerm somewhat felt his courage could come back with anger. 'You tried to kill me!'

'That was a serious misunderstanding. We told the sergeant who was in command of the raid that we wanted you alive. But you know how soldiers are.'

'I certainly don't!' Lerm wasn't the least bit interested in the doctor's excuses.

'They are rough guys, fighting with ruthless terrorists all the time. He thought that by 'alive' we meant your brain. And the brain would live a fair amount of time after you drowned. If it makes you feel better he was charged with disobedience and removed from his post.'

'No, it doesn't make me feel better at all! Why did they have to catch me at all? I haven't done anything wrong, have I?'

Doctor Keynes walked around the room, here and there. 'Look, I believe it is obvious we need something from you.'

'And what is it? My brain?'

'Well... yes and no. Not the whole brain. There is something in your memory we want.'

'You're out of luck, then,' Lerm smiled back sarcastically, 'because my memory is completely blank. I barely remember my name. I remember nothing before I woke up on Earth, three weeks ago.'

'Yes, I heard that. That's unfortunate,' the doctor walked across the room here and there again. 'What about a transfer to a new bot?'

'What about it?'

'You know, there are some ways to extract memories but they're not very efficient. The only safe method to find what you're looking for is to perform a full scan of the brain. But it requires stopping the brain's functionality.'

'You mean temporarily, right?'

'Not exactly...'

'You're kidding! Who is that safe for, then? Not for me, apparently, if it would kill me!'

'I'm afraid we don't understand each other. It is the safest method to gather the information without any losses.'

'But it kills the person!'

'That's why I'm offering you the transfer.'

'I am not interested!'

'Come on, think about it. A new body which can't feel pain, only pleasure. And the first download of the profile is guaranteed. It means a whole new life.'

'I'm not interested!' Lerm repeated steadily.

'I see. How disappointing. Alright then, as I've said, there are some less invasive methods we could try before the transfer.'

'Before?! What do you mean by that?'

'Please, don't make it more difficult for me than it already is.'

'Difficult for you?! I'm the one whose death we are talking about!'

'You see, the government needs the information and I'm authorized to use any means necessary to get it. And I don't want to. I don't want to press you.'

'That's nice! He doesn't want to press me to commit suicide!'

'You're still getting it completely wrong. It isn't suicide. It's an enhancement. But alright, let's try some less invasive methods first.'

Lerm still didn't like the word 'first' but he was glad to have escaped the transfer for now.

'What methods?'

'You will be sent back to your cell.' Oh, Lerm thought, so it was a cell after all. 'Then we will apply some compounds for correcting damaged synapsis. We will also emit waves which should stimulate the memory centre of your brain. These won't be very nice days for you but I hope you'll be able to give us the information after that.'

'And will you at least tell me what information you're seeking?'

'There's no need. If your memory comes back you'll know perfectly yourself.'

They certainly weren't very nice days. Lerm spent most of the time asleep, dreaming nightmares about thin corridors he was running along, unable to remember where he was running and why. The corridors always became narrower and narrower until he ended up jammed between walls. Or he was sitting at a computer, trying to finish a form which was changing in front of his eyes. Or he was trying to find a way through marshes while sinking in the mud. He never found the way. When he was about to drown he left the dream just to enter a new one, as nightmarish as the one before. His waking life was nearly as bad as the dream one. He felt anxious and afraid. He replayed everything which had happened from the time he had met Aardvark and Moulan, over and over again. He had enough time to be caught by his conscience and to fully realize what he had done to them. How he had used them for his own personal gain and how he had ruined their lives. He hoped that, after he'd been caught, they had been able to go back to their flat and they would live happily ever after when he was dead.

Yes, he was pretty sure he would soon be dead. His memory was as blank as it had been before. Well, to be precise, he was able to recollect every situation and every place he'd been since the crash. He was able to recite every word Aardvark had told him and to tell the colour of every house he'd seen, although it wouldn't do him much good since most of the houses had been grey, anyway. Long story short, he was able to remember everything since he'd come to the Earth but not a single memory before that. His oldest memory was a 'Connection failed' label on the control panel of the fighter he'd crashed in.

That's why he was very nervous when he was brought to Doctor Keynes again.

'So? How are you feeling?' the doctor asked, and stretched his arm towards him to shake his hand. This time, Lerm shook it.

'I've felt better,' he answered truthfully.

'I sympathize. I know it isn't a very pleasant experience. But the results seem encouraging. We've noted a huge increase in your memory centre's activity. Well, you tell me. Have we been successful?'

'Oh, absolutely,' Lerm knew he couldn't trick doctor Keynes for long but he felt as though each minute he won would make a difference, although he didn't know why it should.

'Good. Do you remember anything before you landed on the Earth?'

Lerm didn't expect such a straightforward question. 'Well...' he had to say something! 'I see some images. I was landing on the Moon. And I had sex with a woman there.'

Doctor Keynes was obviously disappointed, 'Anything more accurate? Your occupation?'

'Soldier,' Lerm said, a little too fast.

'Soldier?' This obviously wasn't the right choice. But Lerm had to continue as though he was certain.

'Yes. I was leaving for a battle. Before we set off I was working on a computer.'

'Fine,' the doctor seemed interested after all. 'What were you working on?'

'I... well... it's all very hard. Blurred. Perhaps if we try the therapy for a few more days...'

'I don't think it will work. If the therapy hasn't been successful yet... have you given the transfer some thought?'

'But it hasn't been unsuccessful. I'm nearly there. I can see the screen like it was in front of me.'

'Alright. Any information there? Passwords, for instance?'

Oh, so that's what this is all about, Lerm thought, passwords. 'I think I see something,' he lied, 'there's eight. For sure. And then... five. Then I think, it could be A. Or seven. Really, a day or two more and I could see it.'

'Very well, we could try a day or two. But I don't think it will make any difference.'

'But I can nearly see the password.'

'Look, if you don't remember, I will have to perform the transfer.'

'Even without my permission?'

'I'm afraid so.'

Lerm's attention was caught by something odd behind a window, for a while. It looked like an oversized bird, approaching the building. Probably a fighter, some part of a defence system of the upload centre. His spirits sank even lower than they had already been. Even if he got past guards he would find himself on the street, exposed to an attack from above. There was no hope he could escape. Two days and that would be it. After that, his lies would be useless and he would be killed.

'So,' Lerm whispered, 'you are going to kill me anyway, aren't you?'

'Look,' Doctor Keynes looked sad. One would believe he was really sorry, 'it is a matter of security. We need to know the answer to protect our people. If you accepted the transfer everything would be much easier. You'd be provided one guaranteed profile download. And even then you'd be put on the server, available for download. You'd literally gain immortality. But if you don't accept the transfer I'd have to do it anyway. The only difference is you'd be labelled 'executed' which would most likely destroy your chances of being downloaded.'

'Back to my question, doctor! I'm going to snuff it in any case, is that what you're telling me?'

'I'm really sorry. Let's try the therapy for two more days, but if it doesn't work you'll have to decide...'

Lerm's reaction was fast enough to save his life. He jumped behind the huge operating table. Doctor Keynes wasn't that lucky. The explosion of the wall blew him into the air and a huge piece of masonry pierced his skull, thus stripping him of his luxurious synthetic body. Shouting sounded from the entrance passage. The guards were approaching. Then, finally, the dust settled enough for Lerm to see through the hole in the wall.

## Chapter 7: Encounter among Debris

Lerm was gazing at the ruined wall, the dead uploader and Aardvark, sitting in the cockpit.

'So?' Aardvark shouted. 'Are you coming or what?'

Lerm realized there was no time to waste and that there may not be any other chance to escape. He ran towards the fighter and jumped into the cockpit through a gap in the canopy that Aardvark opened for him. It snapped shut behind him and shielded him from the guards who were now entering the room, with weapons in their hands. The fighter moved backwards, to exit the upload centre.

'Put the space suit on,' Aardvark pointed at a suit behind the seats.

'A space suit?'

'Yes, a space suit!' Aardvark increased the drive traction and, after few leaps, the fighter took off. 'Believe me, you wouldn't like the sensation of all your body voids expanding.'

'Are we going into space?'

Aardvark didn't answer and focused on driving.

'What about Moulan?' Lerm asked.

'Dead,' Aardvark answered with a vacant voice.

'What? Dead? And what about my...'

'Also dead.'

'Rea is dead?' Lerm's chest contracted.

'You bet she is! If Moulan is dead, so is Rea, isn't she?'

'What about the backup disc?'

'Blasted to pieces.'

'How? How did that happen?'

Meanwhile, the fighter ascended to a fair altitude. Aardvark turned it horizontally. The engine's roar changed to a silent hum.

'A raid from the Moon. They caught us on the street. They slugged me on my head. When I woke up Moulan was in pieces. Those bastards even put his head on my chest so I woke up, hugging it.'

'Who did it?'

'I'm going to find out or die trying! Now, have you put the space suit on?'

'Nearly there. Why do we need it, anyway? This fighter looks solid.'

'I pinched it when it was in the service. Who knows what was wrong with it. One tiny hole and it's a toss-up if we suffocate or freeze to death. And let's hope the rocket propulsion works. Sit here, next to me. You'll be my aerial gunner.'

'I'll be what?'

'I need you to operate the laser cannon.'

'Do you expect anyone to attack us?'

Aardvark sneered ironically, 'If they do, we are finished. This is not a battle craft.'

'Isn't it? What does it have cannon for, then?'

'To blast the debris. There's tons around the planet. Watch this screen,' he pointed at a screen in front of Lerm, 'it's the radar. You will see dangerous objects as red dots. If they are moving towards us, which means they're approaching the cross in the middle, you must shoot them down.'

'How do I do that?'

'Tap the object to target it. Then, push this red button. But don't do that if the object is more than a thousand yards away. The laser is has no power at such a distance. Oh, and don't shoot too often. Each shot uses a terrible amount of energy and it takes some time before the batteries recharge. Two shots in a row and you are out of juice. Do you follow me?'

'I hope so.'

'So do I. If you don't, we're dead. Well, we may be dead much sooner if the rocket engine doesn't work properly.'

Aardvark carried out a few actions on the control panel and the fighter started to vibrate madly. The engine made such a racket that Lerm wouldn't have heard any more instructions even if Aardvark had been shouting them at the top of his voice. Aardvark pulled the stick and the fighter turned straight up. More operations on the control panel...

Lerm felt as though he weighed two tons as the fighter thrust him into his seat. He had a problem breathing and he struggled to remain conscious as a terrible pressure filled his head. The fighter roared as though it was going to tear itself apart. But it didn't. The blue light of the atmosphere faded and soon, the blackness of space could be seen, together with the blinding reflection of the sun on their left side. Aardvark pointed at the radar screen. The first red dots were popping up on it. One of them was approaching them fast, in the centre of the cross. Lerm tapped it and a blinking circle appeared around it.

3000 yards...

2500 yards...

2000 yards...

Lerm fired. Aardvark gestured violently. The dot didn't disappear. He'd pushed the firing mechanism too soon.

1300 yards...

900 yards...

Aardvark gestured even more violently than before.

300 yards.

Lerm pushed the button.

A booster rocket of a long-ago decommissioned space shuttle exploded just a few yards from them. Fragments drummed on the fighter's hull.

Aardvark turned the rocket engine off at last and started the standard motor instead. The racket decreased although the engine obviously had a slight problem keeping the fighter in orbit.

'Not bad, for the first time,' Aardvark commented on Lerm's performance as an aerial gunner. 'Next time, don't panic, but wait till it's close enough. And if you must panic, then don't wait until you've been blown up to make the second shot.'

'What now?' Lerm asked, ignoring his sarcasm.

'Now, we have to get through the rest. There is still a lot of work for you. But it will be easier, not so fast as just now. And pray to the Mother Pluto nobody spots us.'

'And if they do?'

'They'll blast us to pieces.'

'Who?'

'Basically, anyone. But most likely the Sysmodes.'

'Who are they?'

'Those bastards who control most of the upload centres. Sysmode was once just a service company for Pleasurebots. Now, they control practically the entire Earth. They have a station in orbit. We should definitely avoid it if we want to reach the Moon. And stay alive.'

Aardvark turned the fighter against gravity, which was weaker but still hard to cope with. The craft was fighting it boldly.

'Why have you saved me?' Lerm asked after a while. 'You don't exactly like me, do you? After Moulan recorded Rea in himself...' The memory of Rea squeezed his chest again.

'I needed a gunner. I can't do both jobs myself.'

'Alright. But why me?'

'Who else? You fucking needed to get out.'

Lerm thought for a while. 'You set me up, didn't you?'

Aardvark was silent.

'Of course you did! You told them I was in the Hotel. You hoped that if I was gone, Moulan would be just Moulan again because he wouldn't need Rea anymore.'

'So?!' Aardvark turned towards him. 'You've ruined my life! And...' he glanced out of the cockpit window. 'For fuck's sake! Pay attention!' He pulled the stick and the fighter performed a fancy loop. Lerm saw, through the spinning window, a piece of metal more than ten feet long that they had just avoided.

'Are you going to take care of the debris, you idiot?!'

'I saw that but it was outside the cross.'

'And I suppose you think the screen is big just because the designers were stupid? Don't you think there is a reason for that? That you should, perhaps, look out for objects coming from the sides?!'

'Don't speak to me like that!'

'This task is so easy a monkey could do it! If you're not capable of doing it right, I can speak to you any way I want!'

'Speaking of abilities,' Lerm tried to change the subject to something which would suit him more, 'you're incredibly good with fighters, considering you've been cleaning windows your whole life.'

'So?'

'You're telling me I've ruined your life while everything you told me about your life was a lie.'

'You surely don't expect me to tell my whole biography to every piece of scum who comes to my doorstep!'

There was a moment of silence while Lerm shot down another two objects, which he managed admirably.

'At least,' Lerm said then, 'I'm glad you have a conscience.'

'What?'

'You don't need me as an aerial gunner. You saved me from that centre because your conscience was bothering you. You couldn't stand the fact I'd be killed because of you. And that's the same reason you are now going to the Moon to avenge Moulan. Because you feel you're the reason he's dead. Because if he hadn't fallen in love with a Moon renegade...'

'What?! I'll kill you, you bastard! That has nothing to do with his death! I couldn't have known where and when they'd attack!'

'But they could have known about your whereabouts...'

An object exploded a few hundred feet in front of them.

'Tell me you did it!' Aardvark whispered.

'I did not,' Lerm answered.

'We are finished, then! That was a torpedo. And it was meant to kill us.'

Aardvark changed the fighter's course. He aimed for the thickest cloud of debris there was.

'Left!' he shouted and turned to the indicated direction. Lerm targeted and shot down an object on the left side. 'Right!' Lerm shot debris on the right side, seconds before the fighter reached the place.

'There's something on the screen,' Lerm reported. 'It has a label next to it.'

'It's the enemy. How far is it?'

'24 miles.'

All of a sudden, another torpedo exploded nearby. The blast wave made the fighter shake vigorously.

'Didn't you see it?' Aardvark shouted.

'See what?'

'The torpedo!'

'No.'

'Then set it for smaller sizes. With the wheel on the right.'

Lerm turned the wheel and the screen was immediately filled with dots.

'But now it's full of shit! I don't know what to shoot.'

'You have to turn it up and down all the time.'

A dot detached itself from the labelled dot and approached them.

'Hey! I see a torpedo!'

'Try to shoot it!'

14 thousand feet, 10 thousand, 6 thousand, 4... Lerm's finger hit the red button at the exact moment the fighter shook madly as if it had taken a direct hit.

'Put the helmet on!' Aardvark shouted and he locked his own helmet, which looked as though it had been designed for a 19th century diver, on his head. Lerm started to suffocate. He felt like his lungs were bursting out of his body. He copied Aardvark and his own obsolete helmet contained the burst of coughing. Nevertheless, all his bodily functions seemed normal, except that his left hand felt like it had been put into a refrigerator. He examined it. There was a tear in the glove. He drew Aardvark's attention to it. But his companion just pointed at the radar screen. Thanks to that, Lerm managed to shoot down another object and thus clear the path for them. Since they couldn't speak to each other, having helmets on their heads, Aardvark was using gestures to communicate. He indicated a fast movement, than two hits of his fist, one immediately after the other. Lerm understood. If something fast was approaching he should shoot twice to increase the chances of hitting it.

The debris took another torpedo out. Lerm managed to shoot down another one. But the situation was unsustainable. The fighter was moving slowly due to the holes in its hull. They were just a target on a shooting-range. The enemy didn't have to do more than wait and fire.

Aardvark used gestures again. He pointed at the labelled dot and then indicated a blow with a fist.

'Are you kidding?!' Contemplating such a suicide mission made Lerm forget he couldn't be heard.

Aardvark turned the fighter straight at the enemy. Lerm was turning the wheel up and down frantically to be sure he did not miss any dangerous debris or torpedoes. It wasn't the least bit easy or enjoyable. Turning the wheel cancelled the target lock-on function. That's why every time he turned it, he had to tap the desired target again. Of course, since the fighter was moving, the previously spotted objects were somewhere else every time he re-entered the screen. As if that weren't enough, Aardvark was changing course drastically every now and then to avoid the enemy locking on to them. Not only did this make the objects on the radar screen pop up here and there but it also meant absolutely different objects threatened them every time he changed course. And what was more, a terrible pain in his left hand distracted Lerm from his task.

The wheel down, no torpedo approaching, the wheel up, an object in the flight trajectory, some 5000 feet away. An object on two thousand nearby meant no threat, wheel down, no torpedo approaching. Aardvark turned, fuck, straight at the nearest object, wheel up, they might still miss it. No, Aardvark turned even more and they were flying straight towards it... something exploded horribly close to the fighter. That was a torpedo, hitting the further debris. Instinctively, Lerm turned the wheel down but since the torpedo had already exploded, there was nothing else to see. Fuck! The object! Wheel up. 400 feet. Lerm tapped the dot and fired. The remnants of a long-time-dead satellite exploded less than a hundred feet from the craft. Lerm breathed heavily and enjoyed a moment of relief. He turned the wheel down. Torpedo approaching! And he had just fired. He had only enough energy for one shot. The torpedo was approaching rapidly. 8000, 6000, 4000... Lerm's hand acted on its own and pushed the button. 'No! Fuck! Idiot!' Lerm shouted into his helmet and hit the button with his fist. With no effect, the energy was depleted. Aardvark couldn't hear what he was shouting but he understood the situation from his behaviour. He turned the craft and sped towards a nearby object. What is he doing, Lerm thought. Doesn't he know there is no energy for blasting it? They'd be squashed like vomit on a pavement. Lerm closed his eyes...

The blast could be seen even through his eyelids. But he was still alive. He opened his eyes again. The space in front of them was full of bits of an object which had just been destroyed by a torpedo. Not only was Aardvark able to fly a fighter, he was very experienced at it. There was no way he could have been just a window-cleaner.

The enemy craft was coming nearer, at least accordingly to the radar. You couldn't see such a small object ten miles away. Aardvark gestured again towards Lerm who was watching him very reluctantly, still occupied with adjusting the screen settings up and down. Nevertheless, he saw Aardvark pointing at the dot indicating the enemy, then he drew the number 80 in the air in front of his eyes and punched the air with his fist.

'80 feet?!' Lerm forgot his companion couldn't hear him again. 'How do you intend to get so close?'

Aardvark steered the fighter onwards, against the enemy. Lerm watched his own screen. He was staring only at that, to avoid being confronted with the image of an enemy ship which he expected every second to appear in front of their window, armoured and deadly. Such concentration helped him to catch and shoot down another torpedo. This time, he was excellent. They were approaching the enemy fast. 8000 feet, 7000, 6000, another torpedo. There was no time to linger. He just tapped the dot and pushed the button. The torpedo disappeared from the radar but there was no explosion. What does it mean, Lerm thought. And then, he saw it. They were now flying towards the torpedo's tail. Where the head was, he didn't know. The laser had obviously hit the torpedo at the edge of the 1000 feet range and, instead of making it explode, had cut it in half. They were on a collision course with the tail. Lerm closed his eyes again.

But the torpedo's tail just crashed against the fighter's hull which deflected it away. They avoided the warhead somehow. Lerm opened his eyes. The sight before him made his heartbeat accelerate once more. The labelled dot was now flying towards them. Lerm tried to shake Aardvark with his left hand but it was practically dead so it just rubbed against Aardvark's arm. Despite that, Aardvark noticed his gesture, looked at the screen and started manoeuvring savagely. A few objects between them and the enemy were burning. The enemy was tracking towards them through the debris. They were more than 2000 feet away when a beam cut through the space just a few feet from them. The enemy ship obviously didn't have to bother about the thousand feet limit.

Aardvark turned the fighter away from the enemy which was approaching them. How did he expect to win in such a situation? You can't shoot lasers down. And how could they possibly get to the 80-foot distance from a ship which was firing lasers?

Aardvark turned again and another laser missed them. The enemy was so close it could even be seen from the cockpit window. It was round, huge and covered with strong plating. Their fighter looked like a rowing boat against a man-of-war. A rowing boat with a hole in its bilge.

Another laser cut through the space and, judging by the leap the fighter performed at the same moment, it had hit them. It had clearly shot out a component needed for steering the craft because Aardvark was literally hanging on the rudder to keep the mad fighter as stable as possible.

'We are finished,' Lerm whispered in his helmet.

Suddenly, an explosion lit up the cockpit. But not from the inside. The ship which was intercepting them had hit something. Something its gunner obviously hadn't seen on his radar screen. Lerm smiled. His bisected torpedo. The warhead they'd escaped was waiting as a trap for their interceptors.

The ship stopped dead. It wasn't moving or shooting, although it didn't seem badly damaged. Aardvark was now flying towards it as fast as he could, considering how hard it was to keep the craft on course. Lerm was counting the distance. 700, 500, 300, 100, he shot. And again. Aardvark turned the fighter again so Lerm scarcely saw a part of the ship being blasted off to join the other debris floating around.

The rest of the ship was still standing there, like an ugly stone sculpture. Aardvark obviously didn't dare try another shot. He turned the fighter away.

The fighter was moving slowly through space, which gave Lerm a bit too much time to think about his left arm. When hit hard there still was some feeling in it, but very little. There was just freezing pain, shooting from his palm to his shoulder. Aardvark spotted him checking the wound and he pulled a box from below the control panel. Lerm hoped there might be a miraculous substance which could make blood flow through dying tissues again, but he was disappointed. Aardvark just pulled an ordinary scarf out of the box and bound the dying arm tightly. If he had fastened it with such strength when the arm had been healthy, Lerm would be screaming with pain. But now, he barely felt it. He knew it was probably over and he'd lose his arm anyway. Even if this was a miraculous scarf, able to slow the freezing for hours, the arm couldn't survive the whole trip to the Moon. Besides, Aardvark didn't seem to be in a hurry to get to the Moon. They were still in orbit, following the debris. If Aardvark continued like that Lerm wouldn't have to think about his arm because the fighter would probably break up before they left orbit.

A huge black structure appeared in front of them. It looked like it was made of oversized plumbing, like a monstrous scaffold, planned by a manic-depressive architect in his mania phase. More than a space station, it was an original and terrifying labyrinth of steel and concrete. Lerm supposed Aardvark was going to turn around and leave the station as far behind as possible, as he'd informed his aerial gunner before. He didn't though. Quite the opposite, he headed straight towards the middle of the structure. When they were hidden completely among the plumbing he stopped the engines. He indicated to Lerm to follow him out of the craft. Lerm didn't object; he could only believe Aardvark knew what he was doing. They abandoned the ship and grabbed hold of the nearest pipe. Aardvark pulled himself along it. Then, he turned to see if Lerm was following him. Lerm just lifted his left hand to explain why he wasn't. Aardvark searched in a small box on the side of the space suit, then pulled out a thin string and threw it to Lerm. Lerm caught it with his only available hand. He had to let go of the pipe, which made him fly away from it. Aardvark turned the winch on and Lerm flew back to the pipe again. Even through the glove, he felt the wire cutting.

'Great,' he thought, 'one hand already frozen, the other one will soon be cut off!'

Aardvark was following the tube, pulling his companion to him every now and then, like an ugly-shaped balloon. After a few minutes, they reached a round hatch with a few small tubes nearby. Aardvark spanned one of them with his arms and legs and pulled Lerm to him.

They waited for hours. Or at least it felt like hours to Lerm, lying on a tube, spanning it with all three functional limbs. And then, just as he realized there was no feeling in his left hand at all, the round hatch opened. Aardvark pulled him to the other side of the tube to prevent him from being snatched away by a stream of crap coming out of the hatch. Excrement, urine, garbage. It all surged out at a tremendous speed, caused by a difference of pressure inside and outside.

'Now!' Aardvark's lips moved. They both set out against the stream. It was like swimming against a flood. A flood on a very messy coast. But they had to. It was clear even to Lerm that as soon as the pressure was compensated the hatch would close. And they had to be inside then.

The pressure eased. The hatched started closing. Aardvark disappeared inside but Lerm was still outside. The only thing he could do was to catch the edge of the hatch edge with his healthy hand. It was over. He couldn't make it.

All at once, the wire which was still attached to his glove pulled hard. The wire cut through the glove and it slit Lerm's hand open. With a yell of pain, he entered the darkness of the sewer system. Before the hatch closed, he saw Aardvark letting go of the wire, which had cut through his glove as well.

'You can take the helmet off,' Aardvark's voice echoed inside the tunnel. 'There is air in here now. It smells terrible, but it's air nevertheless.'

Lerm took the helmet off and his nostrils were suddenly full of vapours from the garbage which was now slowly streaming towards the hatch.

'Keep the rest of the space suit on,' Aardvark advised. 'We'll be wading in shit. We must get out before they discharge again.'

'I thought we were going to bypass the station,' Lerm said, making the first non-hand related remark he could think of.

'And what else could we do? That fighter was finished. It wouldn't reach the Moon. And taking it down to the atmosphere again would probably have finished it off.'

'And what are we going to do here, then?'

'To get out of the sewers, for a start. Tie the wire around your waist. Oh, sorry, I forgot. Let me do that. And hope we won't need to use it. Two legs and a hand should be enough to get out of here.'

'Couldn't I put the helmet on again? You know, the shit and all...'

'And how are we going to communicate with each other if you have the helmet on? Come on, a little bit of shit never hurt.'

In the end, the shit sticking to his hair wasn't the worst thing. Much worse was the slime from the wall, which entered the cut on his right hand, the only hand he could use to find his way in the darkness. The left one was dead completely. He didn't dare to think about it. He came to the conclusion that coming out of this alive and with one healthy hand would be a great success. To repel the uncomfortable thought, he jabbered with Aardvark about all the great deeds they'd done during their fight with the enemy ship.

'Did you see how I splatted those torpedoes?'

'I did. I'd say you may have done it before. Good reactions.'

'Thanks. But you were good too. I suppose not everyone can manoeuvre like that.'

'I suppose not.'

'Where did you learn?'

'On the Moon. I was in a faction.'

'A terrorist one?'

'Yeah. We were ambushed on the Earth and I didn't manage to get into the ship. So I hid. And living on Earth somewhat changed my political opinions. Not that I started to like the Sysmode scum. Just... you know.'

'You stopped being a conservative pig?'

'Something like that, yeah.'

'I'd never say... ouch!' Lerm's forehead was hit by a sharp object.

'What happened?'

'Something hit me.'

'What was it?'

'Do you think I saw it?!'

'You must have some idea.'

'I'd say it was a can. But fairly sharp. I think there's blood on my forehead.'

'That's great!'

'What's so great about my forehead being cut?'

'Where did it come from?'

'Dunno. Somewhere to the right.'

'Good. Then go there and touch the wall to find a passage.'

'That's awesome! He wants me to go straight to a place where you meet garbage flying at light speed!'

'Yes, he does. And you do as well if you don't want to fly out of that hatch at light speed with the garbage soon!'

'I thought we are searching for the sewer's end.'

'Can you slither through a toilet bend?'

'What?'

'We need to get through the garbage manholes because they are wide enough for us to get through. So stop gibbering and get over there!'

Lerm didn't like this task at all. He felt like he was going to be sick, feeling the spongy wall and imagining the spores entering his flesh. But he did it. His hand abruptly pushed into an open space.

'I've got it!' he shouted.

'Good! And stop shouting, we must be near the habitable area. I'm coming after you.'

They entered the newly discovered passage. It was ascending slightly. While a few minutes ago, he'd have given anything for a little gravity, it was now a nuisance.

They saw a light at last. There was a shiny round manhole at the end of a nearly vertical shaft. Luckily, there were handles, forming a ladder.

'That's for maintenance,' Aardvark answered Lerm's unspoken question, 'or if anyone falls down.'

'Are you telling me people do maintenance here?' asked Lerm who tried not to think about the last time he had climbed a sewer ladder.

'Of course they do. Come on, climb already!'

Lerm climbed the ladder. To his relief, all the handles seemed strong and stable. Then...

'It's closed!' Lerm said to Aardvark who was following him closely.

'Nonsense,' Aardvark answered, 'if you can see through, it isn't closed.'

'I'm telling you it is closed!'

'The hydraulic hatches are made of lead.'

'There is a transparent obstacle of some sort.'

'Of course it is. It's a plastic hatch. Just hammer in!'

'How? I can't feel my hand.'

'For fuck's sake, Lerm, use your head!'

Lerm climbed a little higher with his legs, then rushed forward and hammered the hatch with his head.

'Ouch, it hurts!' he said when his head burst through.

'Yeah, it always hurts when you have to use your head for the first time in your life. Now come on, climb out.'

They both climbed into a small deserted bathroom with a few showers and a washing-machine.

'Can you believe what lucky boys we are?' Aardvark laughed, locked the door and started taking the space suit off, 'take everything off and get a shower. There's enough clean clothing to change.'

## Chapter 8: The Second Journey

They washed and threw all their old clothes down the garbage pit. Then, they put on blue trousers and blue shirts they found in a laundry basket. These were obviously uniforms of cleaners. After the hot shower, Lerm realized he could feel his left arm a little bit again. It made him so happy he laughed merrily despite the fact the hand's revival made it hurt terribly.

'What?' asked Aardvark who was treating his other hand with dusting powder, and who was amazed by the sound of laughter.

'The left hand,' Lerm answered, 'it hurts like hell!'

Aardvark smiled: 'I told you, we are lucky boys. It may even revive completely. But if it does, then you'll know what "hurting like hell" really means.'

They left the bathroom and entered a promenade full of figures going in all directions. No one paid them any attention.

'Let's look around,' Aardvark said. 'I'd give anything for a replicator, wouldn't you?'

Lerm, whose concentration was more and more occupied by the increasing pain in his left hand, realized how awfully hungry and thirsty he was.

'And a toilet,' he added.

'A toilet? We've been walking through sewers for an hour - why didn't you go there?'

'I was wearing a space suit, wasn't I? It was a nightmare to seal it, I didn't know how to open it quickly... And you were acting like we were going to fly out the hatch every second, remember?'

'So you could have pissed in the garbage hole.'

'I... well... it seemed inappropriate.'

'Man, how can anyone be so lame?' Aardvark sighed.

Nevertheless, Aardvark's patronizing proved absolutely pointless because they were able not only to eat and drink as much as they wanted but they also didn't have any problem using a toilet. They even slept a little in a deserted passage, although it wasn't really a fully refreshing sleep that they both desperately needed. Then, they walked through the base until they found the station docks. There were a few craft, prepared on the end of a ramp.

'Wow, RX-9s!' Aardvark said in awe. 'If we had one of them the trip to the Moon would be a luxury.'

'What is so great about them? They look just like fighters, only more armoured.'

'Exactly! Compared to the armoured elephants mostly used, these guys are as manoeuvrable as fighters, but unlike the shit we flew here, they have real plating and torpedoes! And overpressure chambers. The enemy will have to fire off their whole arsenal if they want to take you down.'

'Sounds good. So? How are we going to get one?'

'Look at him!' Aardvark laughed. 'Our wuss is changing into an adventurer! I may even get to like you after all.'

Lerm just rolled his eyes to show that he considered such behaviour really embarrassing.

'Alright, make up a plan, then,' Aardvark reacted.

'We are cleaners, are we not? And the fighters have to be cleaned too, right?'

'Right. If we get lucky, we may even... fuck, the telepaths!'

'What?'

'There,' he pointed towards a couple of bots with huge heads. 'Think about corn cakes!'

'Are you kidding me?'

'I am not! Concentrate on corn cakes!'

Lerm wouldn't have been able to think about corn cakes even if he wanted to. His life was still in danger, he was planning to steal a super-cool space fighter, his left hand was terribly painful, yet he hoped it would eventually become even more painful, and his companion was a jerk. One of the telepaths stopped and turned to them 'Hey! You!' he pointed his finger at Lerm. 'Come here! Now!'

'Think about the corn cakes,' Aardvark whispered after him and pushed him forward. Lerm set off towards the big-headed bots.

'Corn cakes! Corn cakes!' Lerm was saying in his head, trying to visualize the thing the words meant. He felt exceptionally stupid and what was more, how can you think about corn cakes when you feel as if your hand is being pierced by thousands of needles?

'Is there any problem?' he asked, as if everything was in order. 'Corn cakes, corn cakes!' he added in his head.

'We've noted some disruptions in your emotional matrix,' a telepath answered and lifted a small box up to his face.

'What is he gibbering about?' Lerm thought but he came to his senses immediately. 'Corn cakes! Corn cakes! If only the hand didn't hurt so much!'

'The pain-detecting centre of the brain is highly active,' the telepath informed.

'I cut my hand badly while I was cleaning,' Lerm lifted his right hand to show them his wound. He left his left hand in his pocket, 'Corn cakes. Corn cakes!'

'That would fit. But there's fear as well. Are you frightened of anything, worker?'

'Of course I am. It is a very deep wound. I'm afraid I may lose the arm.'

'That also fits,' the second telepath said. 'Humans usually fear losing their limbs. Still, the pain readings are too high for a cut on the arm. How can it be so painful?'

'Corn cakes... these injuries are the worst, really... corn cakes.'

'It may be true. There must be a high concentration of nerves in the palms to provide enough feeling. Alright, this seems plausible. Still, haven't you seen anyone odd here? I mean, someone you haven't seen before?'

'Corn cakes! No, I'm sorry, sirs. Corn cakes!'

'Look at the e-level when I asked him,' said one of the telepaths.

'It may be caused by blood loss,' answered the other.

'Do you feel dizzy or anything of that sort?'

'Now you mention it,' Lerm answered, 'yes, I do. Corn cakes, corn cakes!'

'Come on then, we'll take you to the infirmary.'

'Um... corn cakes, what now? Can't think! Corn cakes!'

Lerm managed to suppress his thoughts during the whole trip to the infirmary. And even after they'd got there, one of the telepaths stayed with him. That left Lerm in a paradoxical situation in which his almost healthy palm was being treated while the other one, which ached like hell, remained untreated. Then, he was given sedation and a sleep injection.

'Thank you, gentlemen,' said the doctor, a young human female who treated his wound.

'But we need an identification,' the telepath protested.

'I'm afraid it will have to wait. The patient suffered serious nerve damage and he has to rest now. When he wakes up, I'll perform the identification myself and send you the results.'

And that was the last thing he heard. He fell into a sweet sleep with the words 'corn cakes' in his mind.

He woke up abruptly. Everything was dark and he felt as if he had a hangover. Someone was leaning towards him.

'Oh no,' Lerm said, looking at Aardvark's face.

'Oh yes,' Aardvark answered, 'yes, it's me. We have to go. If they identify you, you're finished.'

Lerm was falling asleep again. Being conscious was painful. If he could just slip back to sleep! He didn't care what happened the next day.

'Stand up!' his companion shook him, which made him feel as if his head was buzzing and releasing pain throughout his whole body.

'I can't,' he whispered.

'Oh yes, you can. That's Hypnotrix, you just need to move a little to increase the blood pressure. You've slept more than five hours, you'll manage.'

'How do you know that?' Lerm tried to stall.

'Hypnotrix is a common anaesthetic. Just get up. Now!'

Lerm stood up and nearly fell down as his knees wouldn't support him. Thankfully, Aardvark did. He helped him to his feet and half-dragged him out of the infirmary. The rest of the trip was just a weird nightmare. He was barely aware of the dark passages or figures passing by. Everything was so blurred he'd never have recognized who to follow if Aardvark hadn't been dragging him all the way. There was a red light shining, and he heard the sound of an alarm. They'd probably been discovered. Good, he thought, they may let him sleep then.

'Put it on!' Aardvark gave him some clothing. Lerm tried to carry out the order but he was incapable of differentiating the sleeves from the legs. At last, Aardvark had to dress him, swearing and patronizing him as usual.

An explosion shook the cockpit. Lerm woke up with a jolt. He was tied to a seat in a fighter, next to the swearing Aardvark.

'What happened?' he asked.

'What do you think? We received a serious hit! And we'll get another if you don't take care of the shooting.'

Lerm looked at the radar screen. It was empty. 'There's nothing there!' he stated the obvious.

'Of course there isn't! We've left the debris belt. Turn it to smaller objects!'

Lerm turned the wheel and saw three labelled objects intercepting them. One had just released a torpedo. Lerm shot it down automatically.

'You can shoot more than once here. But don't stretch the point; there's rather too many of them!'

'Three fighters?'

'Exactly.'

'What happened? I remember an alarm of some sort. I thought they'd found us.'

'The show wasn't for us. Some stupid terrorists attacked the station and all the fighters were ordered to take off. So I borrowed one.'

'You did all this with me?'

'You didn't object then.'

'No, I didn't mean... I mean... thanks.'

'Don't thank me yet. They've stuck to us since we left the squadron.'

Another explosion shook the fighter.

'Watch the fuck out!' Aardvark shouted. 'This may have good armour but those are RX-9s as well!'

Lerm shot another torpedo down.

'Try to strike back!'

'How?'

'The lever on the right turns the chamber. Lock it off and a trajectory plot will appear.'

'What?'

'Just do it!'

Shooting with torpedoes was much harder than with lasers. The screen displayed a prediction of where a torpedo would fly with the current chamber aiming and, very broadly, where to move it to hit the enemy if it continued with its current speed and direction. He had to change the aiming with the lever to match the prediction and then shoot at exactly the moment the trajectories matched. Meanwhile, he had to check if there was a torpedo flying in the opposite direction, to finish them off.

He didn't hit with a single torpedo, even though they were partially guided.

'Don't worry, just continue,' Aardvark supported him in his efforts. 'It may at least slow them down a little. We are flying away from them, but they are flying towards them, so their reaction time is slower.'

Lerm didn't feel like this was going to help him in any way but he kept trying nevertheless. The Moon was getting nearer. They could see the craters and the lights of settlements inside them. But...

'They shot three together!' Lerm shouted.

'Shit!' Aardvark answered and changed the flight direction abruptly.

'But I can't shoot them down that way!'

'That's too bad,' Aardvark said ironically and made the fighter perform an exemplary loop. When it stabilized, Lerm fired the lasers. Again and again. But with no effect. The torpedoes were still approaching.

'Don't shoot!'

'What? But...'

'Do as I say! Aim at the left one and wait for my signal.'

The torpedoes were approaching. Lerm had a feeling they were increasing speed as they came nearer. 1600, 1400, 1200... Aardvark turned the fighter so fiercely Lerm's organs lurched and stomach acid filled his throat. Explosion! Two of the torpedoes crashed together as they turned to hit the escaping craft.

'Shoot! Now!' Aardvark shouted. Lerm pushed the firing mechanism and missed. The fighter shook, made a jump and the engines went silent. The fighter was rushing towards the Moon's surface.

'It's landing time,' Aardvark smiled ironically while trying to slow the fighter down with stabilizers.

Another torpedo hit them. The fighter's tail cut loose. The pressure was falling quickly.

'A fucking hasty landing!' Aardvark added.

## Chapter 9: Megagrave

The fighter hit the surface hard. Their arrival was more of a controlled fall than a proper landing. But Aardvark was an excellent pilot and he managed.

'You've got my respect, man,' Lerm said in awe when he realized he was alive, safe, and with no broken bones.

Aardvark didn't answer. He unstrapped himself from the seat and turned around.

'Fuck!' he said, 'the tricycle is in pieces. We'll have to go on foot. And fast!' He pulled something from a container behind their seats.

'You'll need this,' he gave Lerm a breathing mask. 'The air is weak on oxygen and we will have to run. It's also freezing out there. But running should keep us warm. It's just a few miles away.'

'What is?' Lerm asked. But his companion just put his own mask on, started some sort of engine and carried out some operations on the control panel. The fighter started shaking badly.

'I'd run like hell if I were you,' Aardvark opened the cockpit and ran away. A sudden freezing blast made Lerm shiver. He put the breathing mask on and followed Aardvark. He was less than a hundred feet from the fighter when it exploded. He turned his head around to see the debris flying towards him. It missed him by inches.

'Hey, you're in good condition!' Aardvark murmured through his mask when Lerm partially ran, partially jumped past him.

'You could have warned me, couldn't you?'

'I did. I told you to run.'

Lerm wanted to retort that this hadn't been much of a warning, but breathing was hard and speaking when running made it nearly impossible. And he had to run because if he didn't, he'd freeze to death.

'Where are we going?' he asked nevertheless.

'Friend. Hacker. Info,' Aardvark answered just with simple words. 'Don't stop,' he commanded Lerm while watching the screen of a small device which he held in his hand, 'it's less than a mile now.'

They reached a domed vault, set in the ground. Aardvark hammered on a trap door.

'For fuck's sake, Grof, open up!' he murmured while jumping up and down to avoid freezing. But there was no reaction on the other side of the door. Aardvark hammered them again. He seemed nervous. Lerm knew why. If they didn't get in, they'd freeze to death.

Hopelessness made Aardvark jump on the trap door, remove his mask and shout: 'Fuck, Grof! Open that shit!'

The door opened and they fell in. The dome closed immediately just after they did.

They fell into an underground room that a ladder, which they had missed, led into. Lerm wasn't sure why Aardvark, at the moment the trap door had opened, had grabbed him and made him fall with him. It may have been just an automatic reaction, or he wasn't sure if the short and unbelievably hairy goblin who was now standing over them would have let him in if he didn't use his first chance.

'For fuck's sake, couldn't you warn me first?!' Aardvark complained while rising from the ground. Lerm rose as well, although his body was badly shaken from the fall.

'Yo, megagrave!' the hairy goblin smiled and shook hands with Aardvark. 'So? What's it today? Wha' organization ye wan' me ter join now?'

'None,' Aardvark answered simply.

'Well, that's a change! How are ye, then? Where ye been all the time?'

'On Earth.'

'As an agen'?'

'As a fugitive.'

'Wow!' the goblin seemed positively surprised, 'bu' yer still a human, righ'?'

'I was lucky. What about you?'

'Arrr, ye know, tryin' ter find the way ter hack the profile filter.'

'Still? I thought you gave up a long time ago.'

''Course not! The Sysmode dogs must be deal' with! I'm nearly there. Go' access to the database. Could even delete it if I didn' care 'bout my own life. But why would I do tha'? I'm not gonna do 'eir dirty work. Because then, only the nice, adaptive, already filtered guys would remain. But ter take the filter down, 'at's megagrave tough. No matter. Ye didn' come here ter listen ter my story. Wha' d'ya need?'

'Is it so obvious I need something?'

'Yeah, mate, it is,' Grof laughed.

'I need to find some information.'

'Sure ye do. 'at's what I'm genius at, eh?'

'Can you find out what organization made a raid on Earth at six o'clock universal time?'

'Terrorists?'

'Sure.'

'Arrr, a personal vendetta, 'n? Or some noble cause, fer a change?'

'Vendetta.'

'Good enough fer me. It will 'ake some time, though. Ye wanna watch some megagrave treasures I found in the archives?'

'Sure, why not.'

Lerm wasn't happy to be ignored for so long. He felt an urge to point out to the hairy goblin that there were actually two visitors in his house, not just one.

'What filter are you speaking of?' he asked, a little awkwardly. Grof looked at him as though he hadn't seen him before. 'And yeh're who?' he asked.

'My name's Lerm,' he pushed his hand forward but Grof didn't react. Instead, he answered the question: 'The profile filter's a feature installe' on the Pleasurebots' profile site. Separatin' the nice guys from the ba' ones.'

'I thought people choose them, don't they? I mean, people or bots. According to the characteristics they want.'

'Yeah, but these ain't all. The filter pre-selects 'em.'

'But the guy in the upload centre told me the first body would be given automatically and even then, I'd be available as a profile on the internet.'

'Righ' ye are, the first life is fuckin' automatic. But don't forget 'ey go' the whole yer brain. When ye agree 'ey let ye live yer life and meanwhile, 'ey analyse yer brain, yer feelings, 'ey watch yer every move. If 'ey find out yeh're a bad boy who'd hack their perfect new world yeh're finished. 'ey just don't pu' you on the list 'gain.'

'But that's fine, isn't it?'

'Fine?! That's a fuckin' megagrave! Who can tell yer if ye have the righ' to live or no'?'

'But the society of theirs is nice...'

'But for wha' price?! Ye really think 'ey filter just criminals and psychopaths? Why ain't there any complaints? Why ain't there any fuckin' disputes? Demonstrations? Or jus' mates annoyin' others with 'eir loud music? Why ain't there any graffiti? That's 'cause the filter eliminates anyone who dares to think fer 'imself.'

'I should have warned you,' Aardvark smiled, 'Grof is an anarchist.'

'I ain't no anarchis'!' Grof retorted, 'I'm a fuckin' liberal.'

'But...' Lerm didn't want to offend Grof but he had a feeling the hacker was a little misguided, 'why do you care? It is the bots' problem, not yours, isn't it?'

''s not! The personality changes happen 'ere too! Last time in the Academy, 'ey erased personalities of just born younglin's an' put some profiles from the web inter 'em'

'You're kidding?'

'I'm certainly no'!'

'What happened then?'

'Ye guess. 'ey all snuffed it fer good. Ye can't put an 'dult mind into a baby brain. But 'ey try such things with grown too. Ye do a crime? We delete yer brain an' ye be a good productive member 'gain.'

'Anyway,' Aardvark probably decided to change the topic because he knew Grof would be able to continue like this forever, 'how many of you work on this stuff? I mean, the profile database.'

'Guess,' the hacker murmured disgruntledly.

'You mean you do it alone?'

'Yeah.'

'How come?'

'Well, Llama and Secter were megagrave, 'ey more talked 'n worked. Rambian joined the Followers of the Blue Light...'

'You're kidding!' Aardvark laughed loud.

'Ye know, never seen 'em, it would be 'gainst the safety rules. I suppose, he may 'ave always been a wacko.'

'And what about the chick? You told me she was pretty good.'

'Ye mean Corrosion?'

'Yep.'

'She ain't just pretty good. She was fuckin' unbelievable. But 'ey came in fer her.'

'Who?'

'Dunno. She made mos' of the work on the database. She sent the codes, 'n a message 'ey're watchin' 'er and that was all. Her profile disappeared. She's probably dead. She died heroically durin' the fight 'gainst the Sysmode dogs. I have ter finish it no matter what!'

Grof sat in front of one of many dirty monitors which seemed to occupy most of the space in his den. Meanwhile, he made his guest sit in front of another screen and turned on a sequence of audio-visual recordings which, according to him, were 'real fuckin' diamonds'. The videos were badly scrambled, and every now and then either the sound or image went off. But Lerm understood he shouldn't point that out, for the hacker seemed very proud of his 'treasure'. Anyway, since Aardvark had brought some food from an old replicator which Grof had obviously repaired so many times it had nothing in common with the original design, watching the movie was a nice activity. Although, if Lerm could choose, he'd be sleeping instead.

The projection started in the middle of an advertisement of some sort.

'You don't feel pain when you are a Pleasurebot'. There was an image of a woman who had just lost a leg and had been screaming in pain,

'You are never hungry when you are a Pleasurebot' - an image of a malnourished child, dying of hunger.

'You are never sick when you are a Pleasurebot' - a pile of dead bodies being carried out of a hospital back door.

'But the most important thing,' a shot featuring a man in a gunship cockpit who had ran into a rock. The shot was taken in slow motion so the audience could see each detail, each drop of blood, each shattered limb, 'YOU NEVER DIE!'

Lerm was glad the movie had been so damaged, for the images were really horrific.

'Reserve the transfer now and drink from the eternal cup of pleasure.' Another shot featured two Pleasurebots during erotic play, in a clean light-blue sheeted bed in a beautiful room bathed in sunlight. After the previous shots, this scene seemed like a rescue from filth, pain and suffering.

The next movie was a political debate.

'What is your answer to the latest rumour about you tampering with the profile database?' the moderator asked.

'I tell them: Go through the database and try to find anyone who should be there but who isn't,' a smoothly shaved man answered.

'But that's impossible,' a woman in an evening gown retorted. 'You search by characteristics, not by names. And even if you find someone is missing you can never know if they have been downloaded. If they are active, they don't show in the database, do they? Your argument is demagoguery and you know it. We request all the logs and full access.'

'But my dear,' the shaved man smiled patronizingly, 'you surely don't expect us to compromise the privacy of our clientele? If you download a personality into a new Pleasurebot, you don't want to be visible to any fundamentalist, do you?'

'Well, my dear,' the woman hit back ironically with the same patronizing tone, 'I think you've forgotten we are talking about real people! If I agree to join your programme, I want to be sure I'll get what you've promised. And yes, I want to be visible to anyone, even though it means a fundamentalist can find me. Better that than being anonymously downloaded and enslaved by a deviant of some sort.'

'If you agree to join our programme, you have at least one new life guaranteed. That's more than you'd have if you didn't agree. And concerning deviants, you have all your human rights as a Pleasurebot. Anyone can be a victim of criminal activity, no matter if you have the logs or not.'

'I think,' said the third person, a woman in a white gown, 'you are forgetting the most important thing! Your "joining the programme" is nothing more than murder!'

'Absolutely not!' the man shouted. 'Quite the opposite! It is a new life! A rebirth!'

'Perhaps, but that still means my body would be destroyed.'

'But dear lady, you certainly already know your personality will be transferred completely.'

'My personality maybe. But not me. I am not just a summary of data from my brain. The transfer would kill me!'

'It wouldn't. Only your basic body would be disintegrated.'

'That's what I'm saying. I'd be killed!'

'What are you? Body or personality?'

'The soul!'

'But my dear, such superstition would take us back to the age of steam.'

'Superstitious?! I am more than just brain! I am the soul! And it is connected with this body. The whole world is seen with my eyes...'

The recording ended here and a new one started.

A reporter was interviewing a woman wearing a t-shirt and a baseball hat, labelled with 'Sysmode: Enter the Paradise'.

'Many people say Sysmode is systematically killing the human population.'

'That's nonsense,' the Sysmode spokeswoman answered, 'we don't kill anyone. We just transfer the immortal personality from one carrier to another.

'Many opponents also say you cripple the population because you give people the choice either to destroy a normal healthy body or to wait for their ultimate death. Can't you wait for them to die and only then transfer the character?'

'I absolutely understand their point,' the Sysmode spokeswoman answered, 'and believe me, if anything like that was possible, we'd never disintegrate a healthy body. Sysmode is here to help. We care about every single person who decides to...'

'Alright,' the reporter interrupted her advertisement speech, 'why is it not possible?'

'Look, it is a very difficult and refined process, to transfer a character. When a body is fighting pain, disease and so on, the brain has to use most of its capacity to combat these problems. It damages the data we need.'

'You still didn't answer my question. The brain certainly doesn't fight at the moment of death, does it? Why can't you transfer a personality from a dead person?'

'Believe me, we are doing all we can to discover a technology which would allow that. We, in Sysmode, want to help people any way we can...'

'You still didn't answer my question. Why isn't it possible?'

'Well,' the spokeswoman obviously wasn't happy at being interrupted and pressed to give a straight answer but she was a professional, so her smile didn't waver, 'as I've said, the research in this field is still in progress. Unfortunately, most of the data we need is lost at the moment of death.'

'How can it be? I'm pretty sure brain cells die at least a few minutes after death.'

'Oh, they do. But we are not talking about the static content of brain cells. We need an active mind to perform the transfer. Imagine the human mind like a balloon which, instead of air, is filled with brain activity. A part of it controls the basic functions, such as breathing, the nervous system, and so on. The rest is the personality. That's very simplified, of course, but it could serve as a model. And then, imagine pain as a black gas. It is centred at one place but it also blends with the air around so the whole content is influenced by it. You can hardly separate the gas from the air while the pain source is active. We have found a way to do so but the more pain you feel the harder it is to separate the character from it.'

'I'm afraid you still haven't answered my question. There is certainly no pain when you are dead.'

'Oh, don't worry, I was getting to it,' the Sysmode spokeswoman answered with the same plastic smile. 'When a human is dying, the brain systematically ceases unnecessary processes. Only those needed for life-preservation are left. Imagine your balloon is shrinking so there is less and less air in it. When it is so small only the basic functions remain, all the personality data are lost.'

Another video, obviously made by amateurs, continued. The camera was a little off and the actors' performance terrible. It featured two young boys who caught a third one. They both pressed their butts against his ears and shouted: 'We'll push the personality out of your head, motherfucker!' with sounds of farting added in the post-processing.

Another shot. A man who was, according to the subtitles, a professor of biology, was saying: 'I don't know about you but I'd rather die as a human.' Another shot, with the same man, just looking younger, saying: 'When they told me I had a fatal disease, I couldn't believe it. I was a wreck, I fell into terrible depression. Then I thought, what can I lose? I was always afraid of the transfer because I thought it wouldn't be me, just my copy. But since I'd be dead sooner or later anyway, I decided to try. And I can now tell anyone with the same doubts: Yes, it is me. I feel for myself as I felt before. I've just changed my body.'

The news bulletin continued with a woman wearing a white blouse with a label 'The Earth Mother Loves U'. She was saying: 'Of course the one who is now occupying the body thinks he is the one who was there before. He has the memories. But what do we know? The real professor may be flying somewhere over the body he should have been given, trying to convince us not to make the same mistake. I suppose all the dead are now together, greeting the new incomers with a hearty "welcome to the gang of idiots who believed them!"'

The last shot showed a demonstration in front of a huge office building. The reporter commented: 'The demonstration here, in front of the Sysmode headquarters, is continuing into its second day, though its message is a little confusing. There have been a few speakers addressing the crowd and none of them has been well received by everyone. While Cordal from the Human Liberation party made a speech about the systematic genocide of the human race, the famous anarchist Nesmé who was released from prison recently, has been speaking against social and intellectual eugenics. Nevertheless, they have a common goal: to shut down the upload centres.'

'So?' Grof asked when the movie ended, 'ye like it? Fuckin' megagrave, i'n'it?'

'Yeah, nice one,' Aardvark answered much less enthusiastically, 'though I couldn't help noticing how carefully you sequenced them.'

'Ye know,' Grof smiled, 'history's always 'nterpretation.'

'And not an unbiased one.'

Grof grimaced cheekily.

'So? Have you found anything?' Aardvark asked then.

''nythin'? Everythin'! Don' forget I'm a fuckin' genius!'

'OK, who's been there, then?'

'I checked all the organizations 'at may have been on a raid the 'ay before yesterday. My favourite HP dogs're the first.'

'HP? What are they?'

'Ye never heard 'bout Human Power? They're the fascists who broke off from the HL.'

'The Human League?'

''xactly. Always told ye yer beloved conservative HL was a piece of fuckin' megagrave. That 'ere were dangerous extremists in. For HP, attackin' Upload centres won' do. 'ey'd love ter wipe out every Pleasurebot on Earth. An' now, 'ey even kill humans living there. Call 'em collaborators.'

'I think we've met,' Lerm noted.

'So, they've been on Earth, right?' Aardvark asked.

'Yeah,' Grof answered, 'somethin' 'ey call a "Cleanin' mission", fuckin' megagraves! So, I say, 'ey are the number one candidates.'

'It certainly sounds like that. What about the others?'

'Righ', the HL weren' there, 'though it may have been a personal activity of one of its commanders. Funny, the more conservative 'ey are, the more disorder 'ey have.'

'Hm,' Aardvark murmured.

'I've 'lso checked the religious fanatics. The Mother Luna Movemen' ain't do any raids. These are peaceful folks. 'ey wouldn't harm a fly, that's how holy 'ey

're. Besides, 'ey ain't have no fighters. Probably the reason why 'ey're so holy. 'nyway, the official churches 're pretty fanatical.'

'Which ones?'

'All of 'em. The Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Sororists. But the day before yesterday, only the Christians been 'ere and 'ey claimed it was a "peaceful evangelization mission". Imagine, 'ey go 'mong matin' bots and tell 'em 'ey all gonna ter hell. Assholes.'

'But it doesn't seem that they could have done it, right?'

'Righ'. I mean, not 'at 'ey ain't do no raids. But I believe 'em 'is was just a peaceful mission. 'nyway, the Fatalists have also been 'ere, on a raid. 'ey're good candidates, though 'ey aimed jus' at the upload centres. 'ey try ter look as though 'ey never ever violate the righ' fer life, bu'...'

'...once and no more,' Aardvark said together with Grof, and they both laughed ironically. 'Yeah, they are wackos.'

''lright, so, who's left? The Republicans have 'similate' wi'in HL and HP. The Movement of the Free Sex...'

'Of what?'

'A radical wing of liberals. Unlike 'em, the MFS believe in the necessity of aggression. 'Though I haven' the faintes' idea 'gains' whom. 'ey're like the Mother Luna idiots who managed ter get 'eir hands on some fighters.'

'And what about the Anarchists of yours? You haven't mentioned them yet.'

A sad grin appeared on Grof's face. 'There're no Anarchists.'

'How so?'

'All dead. Or in prison.'

'What?!'

'Yeah. The Human Power launched a genuine crusade 'gainst 'em.'

'You mean, there has been a civil war on the Moon?'

'Mate, I don' know if yer can call 'at a civil war. More like a slaughter. The Big Boss, as HP call 'eir leader, persuaded HL 'nd religious fanatics ter join 'em. It was quick and bloody. If yer wanna proof, go ter the far side ter Chinglom. The complex's been bombed ter dus'. Those who survived 're now in a New Mexico cooler. Also, the HP dragged many people ter Big Asshole. I suppose, 'ey either clean the Big Asshole's pavements with 'eir own tongues while bein' spanked by a perverse fascis', or 'ey're dead fer good.'

Aardvark stayed silent. He obviously didn't know what to say.

'Well, yer don't need ter act like yer sorry! Ye never liked 'em Anarchists.'

'Well, I didn't. But it's one thing to disagree with someone's opinion and an absolutely different thing to kill a person you disagree with.'

'Which brings me ter the poin' of yer whole visit. Do I understand well yer gonna kill someone?'

'Yes. The one who ordered the raid.'

'Oh, so yer gonna kill none other 'an the Big Boss 'imself?' Grof sneered ironically. 'Can I ask ye how yer gonna do it?'

'Did you say he lives in the Big Asshole?'

'I did. But getting' inside the Big Asshole doesn't mean ter get ter the Big Boss. The HP headquarters are megagrave protected. 'ey let only the allegian' in.'

'Who is that Big Boss, anyway?'

'Dunno. Someone from HL who managed ter persuade the Nazi scums ter break away and ter foun' the HP. Ye know how these assholes love bein' given orders. 'ey ain't happy until someone shouts commands at 'em.'

'Do you have a photo of the guy?'

'No. But I can manage ter get one. I'm a genius, remember.'

'Great, genius. So, it would really help if you also found a map of the Big Asshole and their headquarters. Also, a time schedule of guard changes, maps of locations and a password to enter a weapon store would be very helpful.'

'But the killin' would be performed by yerself, right?' Grof laughed. Aardvark grimaced happily.

Something made Lerm very uneasy. During all the time Aardvark and Grof were planning the ambush, Lerm had a distinctive feeling they both expected him to be a part of it. Did Aardvark really think he'd accompany him on a suicide mission to satisfy his lust for revenge? Though Aardvark never mentioned names, just referring to the ambush persons as 'us', Lerm was pretty sure they included him. He was kept in uncertainty till the evening before the ambush.

'So, if I understand correctly,' he asked at last, 'you are going to disable the alarm and Grof will plant the bomb?'

'Grof?' Grof was positively surprised, 'I ain't goin' nowhere! Yeh're the bloody punishers, not me. I can' say I'd shed a tear fer the Big Boss megagrave bu' I never killed no one and I inten' to continue in this habbi'.'

'He knows,' Aardvark said with a disgusted tone of voice, 'he's just trying to cop out of the operation.'

'I don't remember copping into it in the first place!' Lerm defended himself.

'You have no place to go anyway.'

'No, but there surely are much better places than the heavily guarded headquarters of a mad terrorist organization whose boss, incidentally, I'm trying to kill.'

'Have you forgotten that by killing Moulan, they killed Rea as well?'

'As if you care! And even if they did, so what? It doesn't mean I have to kill the one who is responsible! I feel like I'm speaking to a madman. Do you honestly believe I'll go and risk my life just to satisfy your lust for revenge?!'

'I do.'

'You are mistaken, then! I mean, why should I?'

'It's a little thing called honour.'

'Don't make me laugh!'

'You owe me for saving your life.'

'You sold me down there in the hotel!'

'Yes, but they'd have found you anyway. I rescued you from the upload centre!'

'Alright, the score is 1:1, then.'

'What?! After everything I've done for you, the score is at least 10 to 1! And not just me. You should do it for Moulan! To give a little in return for everything he did for you!'

'Yes! I'd do anything to give him his life back. But Moulan is dead and killing some heavily guarded guy won't bring him back. You just want revenge! And that's a very nasty motive. Do you really think Moulan would want you to do this?'

Aardvark smiled and calmed down. 'I think it really is him,' he said in Grof's direction, 'the characteristics are exact. How was it? An egoist, coward, he usually justifies his actions by higher motives although his real reasons are mostly selfish and low.'

'And what does this mean?!' Lerm asked, irritated.

'Well, Grof searched for your name in the database.'

'My name?'

'Yeah. While you're trying to ruin everyone else's life, the others do their best to help you. There was a profile with your name but we thought it was just a coincidence.'

'Does it say who I am?'

'Yes. Or, rather, who you were.'

'You mean I should be dead?'

'Exactly. It is a discarded profile.'

'Could you speak more like a human?' Lerm said in an irritated voice.

'Gladly. You died ten years ago when you underwent a transfer. But since your profile was found to be defective it was discarded from the database immediately after the first life.'

'But that's nonsense. I'm a human!'

'It certainly seems that way. But who knows if you aren't a result of a profile experiment of some sort?'

'Can I see the profile?'

'Sure you can. There's not much there but I'd say it rings a bell.'

Grof displayed the obtained information on one of the computers and they left Lerm alone to read it. The first thing he saw was a photo of the person. The image didn't even remotely resemble him. But it wasn't much of a surprise, since the person had died ten years ago. There was some text below the photo. It said:

Name: Lerm

Former name: Kern Papalaskis

Born: Confederation of Democratic States, 2350

Transfer: 2394

Psychological profile: Conservative, egoist, tendency to aggression when disturbed or feeling uneasy. He often justifies his actions by higher causes and just principles, although his real motives are egoistic. He usually doesn't believe in the principles he proclaims. Messianic tendencies but only if they don't endanger him in any way.

Sex: Sadistic tendencies, suppressed homosexuality

Traumas: 2362: both parents killed during the massacre on the Mars field.

2380: During the civil war took side of Sysmode, badly injured and imprisoned.

Reason for Transfer: Depression, age, injuries, desire to start a new life

Fraction: Sysmode

Database status: Rejected

Lerm read the profile at least three times. Only then did he understand he'd hoped he'd experience a sudden inspiration. That the record would revive at least a bit of his memory. He was wrong, though. Not a single word seemed familiar. The name, Kern Papalaskis, meant as much to him as the label of an olive oil can.

'So?' Aardvark asked when Lerm turned away from the computer. 'Does it ring a bell?'

'No," Lerm answered simply and sat next to him.

'Weird thin', mate,' Grof said in a thoughtful voice, 'Aardvark told me ye woke up in a fighter just before it crashed.'

'Yep.'

'An' no memory. It really seems like someone tried ter download a new profile inter yer head. But 'ey screwed up so 'ey decided ter send ye down ter crash.'

'Well, thank you very much. So you think I'm a screwed up experiment, right?'

'Don' be mad at me, mate. Wasn't 'buse. I think yer pretty normal.'

'Chm,' Aardvark sneered.

Lerm ignored Aardvark's reaction: 'So you actually believe I am the person from the profile?'

'Yep. Ye know, the full memory 's usually put inter the brain just with the firs' transfer. Then, only memories necessary fer the character are bein' downloaded. But ter clean the memory blank, well, 'at's something new.'

'Still,' Lerm knew it was unnecessary to repeat the same question but he couldn't resist talking about this subject. 'You think I was someone else before? And they downloaded a bit of Lerm into my brain, but screwed up with the memory, so they decided to kill me in a would-be-accident?'

'Yeah. But wha' puzzles me 's why would 'ey do this megagrave in such a crappy difficul' way. Unless 'ey did the whole procedure in the fighter. Maybe 'ey suspected the 'xperiment may go wron'.'

'Is there any way to get more information about the Lerm guy?' Lerm asked.

'Oh, funny you should ask,' answered Aardvark who had obviously been waiting for the right moment to pass on this piece of information, 'because in fact, there is. Grof found out that the Lerm profile has been downloaded recently.'

'I thought he was rejected from the database.'

'Exactly. Odd, isn't it? And soon after a rejected profile has been downloaded, a person with no memory but the same name and characteristics nearly dies in a fighter accident. And the best part is, guess where the Lerm profile was downloaded?'

'How should I know?'

'In the Big Asshole, in the HP headquarters.'

'You're kidding!'

'He ain't,' Grof answered instead, 'if 'nyone can tell ye who yeh're, Big Boss is the guy.'

'Just come with me,' Aardvark mimicked as though he was giving Lerm a generous gift. 'I promise you I won't kill him until he's answered your questions.'

Grof resolutely refused to lend them his buggy for he was sure he would never see it again. Aardvark spent some time arguing with him. At last, he managed so successfully to stress the fact they'd never reach the Big Asshole on foot that the hacker proposed a compromise. He'd take them near the Big Asshole and leave them few hundred metres from a service door he'd promised to open for them.

The buggy was old and rusty. Its seats had been ripped out so there was just a bare floor covered with a mess of service tools, electronic parts, and litter. But the engine started and so did the heater and the air-enrichment device. Lerm sat down on the rear part of the vehicle and leaned his head against the window.

'The transponder ain't workin',' Grof called out merrily, 'so the trip's gonna take a while.'

'Dude,' Aardvark sighed, 'and you were afraid we'd steal this wreck from you!'

'No' ter steal. Bu' ye'd never gonna go the whole way back ter return it.'

'You bet I wouldn't!'

'See? So, gentlemen... Din' don'... a megagrave express ter Big Asshole's takin' off, don' bother fastenin' yer seat-belts 'cause we're gonna reach a speed of a common retired sloth so ye'd been sooner slit open with the belts 'an ye'd die in 'ccident. Also, we ain't have no seat-belts. In fac', we have no seats either. We don' stop fer anythin', not even a toile' break fer ye can get ou', piss and return ter the express by an easy walk.'

And with that, Grof took off.

'A common retired sloth?' Aardvark grinned at him. 'How long have you been preparing this phrase?'

'Don' forge' I'm a fenius!' Grof grinned back.

Lerm couldn't remain conscious even for five minutes. The buggy's motion would have sent him to sleep even if he had slept well before. With the sleep deficit he had gathered over the last few days, he fell into a deep slumber almost immediately.

He woke up by himself and, for the first time since he'd escaped through the intercepting well with Moulan, he felt rested. The buggy was humming slightly and was moving across the deserted Moon surface at a snail's pace. Aardvark was driving and Grof was sleeping next to him, lying on the floor. Lerm lifted himself to gain a better view of the surroundings. He was determined to make as little noise as possible because he was afraid he might be asked to drive as well. But he didn't succeed. He leaned against the door when turning, the door gave away and Lerm fell out of the buggy, onto the dusty ground. He made as little noise as a flock of seagulls in their mating season. However, Aardvark ignored him completely. Lerm stood up and, to act as though he'd meant to get out, took a toilet break.

The trip took about two days. Aardvark and Grof changed places at the driving wheel a few times. Lerm was bored, his stomach became queasy and his back was so stiff he felt as though he was never going to stand again. And the worst part was, he had plenty of time to think about the danger which was awaiting them.

'We're here,' Grof noted at last and Lerm's stomach turned upside down, much more than during the whole trip. 'This is it,' he thought, 'it's time to die.'

'I can't see anything,' Aardvark murmured.

'Course not,' Grof answered, 'ye don' expec' me ter drive ter the door an' knock fer ye, d'ya? Bu' look at the map. The neares' entrance's three hundred metres 'way, righ' there. Locked and unguarded.'

'Oh, great! So if we don't manage to get in, we'll meet with the Big Boss as two nicely frozen corpses, right?'

'Ye forge' I'm a genius! Ye get in there, don't ye worry. Now, pay 'ttention ter the lockin' mechanism. This is my own device, I call it the encryptin' fuckin' knocker,' he gave Aardvark a small plate with a few buttons. 'Ye firs' attach it ter the lock, like this, see? Then, ye star' scannin' frequencies.'

'Wouldn't it be safer if you unlock it for us?' Lerm asked.

'Wha'? Ye mad? Yer gonna kill yerself, no' me.'

'I'm not very thrilled by that either, Aardvark is the punisher. But if we don't unlock it, we're dead.'

'Yer no'.'s easy. Look, ye touch this button...'

'No, Grof, Lerm's right,' Aardvark interrupted him. 'I never doubted you're a genius but if we don't get in, we're dead. If you go with us and we don't manage, we'll just go back to the buggy silently and make a plan B.'

'Bu' ye manage!'

'What if this device is broken? Or we don't remember your instructions well? Both our lives are at stake!'

'Bu' it's simple!'

'What's the problem, Grof? Didn't you say the service station is abandoned?'

'Course.'

'So? You just open that shit for us and leave. If you don't, we'll leave with you.'

'I don' risk my life fer ye!'

'Risk a life? Is it abandoned or not?!'

''Is.'

'Then stop whining and come on!'

Grof left the buggy reluctantly, put the knocker in his pocket and set out with them. Only now did Lerm realize how tough it was to walk on the Moon's surface without a breathing mask. Even though the gravity was low, each mound they had to cross was like an Alpine iceberg. Each step was four times as fatiguing as it would be on Earth.

At last, they climbed a small hill and they saw an open plain between them and the horizon. There was a huge structure there, resembling a badly parked UFO. There was a small round bunker just a few yards away, connected to the huge structure by a passage whose roof resembled a round half-tube set on the ground. It was connected to a web of similar tubes which crossed the plain.

They came to the bunker. Lerm felt as though he was going to faint. He sat on the ground and breathed heavily to replenish the missing oxygen in his body. Grof attached the encrypting knocker to the lock and retreated fast, as though he expected the door to explode. It didn't. It opened silently, grey dust flew in the air and settled again. Several automatic rifles were being aimed at their heads from inside.

## Chapter 10: Big Boss in the Big Asshole

Five soldiers equipped with breathing masks and warm bullet-proof vests walked outside the bunker and surrounded the group.

'Sorry, guys,' Grof whispered. 'They'd have killed me.'

'What?!' Aardvark shouted, completely forgetting he was in the crosshairs of five weapons with delicate triggers. 'You betrayed us?!'

'No' my faul', mate. The message came a few minutes before ya. I didn' wanna bu' I had no choice. My life fer yer two seemed like a fuckin' good trade.'

'Can you hear yourself?! Your one for our two?! Is that a good trade?!'

''s when the one life's mine...' Grof was speaking with a stupid expression of a child who is trying to defend its motives for not lifting the toilet lid before peeing.

'You could have run away with us!'

'Bu' that would be risky...'

Meanwhile, one of the soldiers tapped a plate which was attached to his forearm and said: 'Big Boss'. These words froze their argument. Everyone turned to the soldier.

'Big Boss here,' a voice from the device answered.

'We have them,' the soldier said with no emotion in his voice, 'the two guys, together with the programmer.'

'I don't need the programmer,' Big Boss answered in even cooler voice, 'just shoot him.'

'Wha... what?!' Grof stammered, 'bu'... Big Boss, sir, wait, we have 'greement!'

But the communication device was off already. The soldier turned to the condemned one. Lerm looked into Grof's eyes. They were full of fear and of the rising realization there was no one to save him. It was the look of a man who has just a few seconds of life left and who knows it. This was it. He always knew he'd die one day as everyone has to. And this was the day he'd find out the answer to the ultimate question.

'Please, spare me,' Grof fell to his knees and put his palms together like a believer in front of an altar, 'call the Big Boss 'gain. We have an 'greement.'

Lerm would have pitied him if he wasn't also mad at him for his betrayal. This gave him an ambivalent feeling of sadness meddling with satisfaction.

'Please...'

The weapon roared and Grof fell to the ground. Lerm felt like he had just woken up from a dream, looking at the corpse in a pool of blood. A human being he had been speaking with a few minutes ago, a person who had lived thirty years and learned to be probably the best hacker in the world, who had an unnerving habit of saying 'megagrave' and 'ye forgettin' I'm a genius', was nothing more than a pile of biological waste in its own juice.

'Let's go!' the soldier ordered and aimed at Lerm's head. Lerm completely forgot how tired he was and obeyed quickly. They went into a tunnel, lit by weak spotlights. The door closed with a loud 'thud'.

'I'd say,' the soldier said with a slight trace of laughter in his voice, 'that this was a good trade after all. A betrayal for betrayal.'

'Yeah,' Aardvark murmured, 'this is what you get when making a deal with a Devil.'

The room they'd been led into looked so much like a throne room it couldn't have been a coincidence. There was a luxurious armchair on an elevated podium in the middle of the room, with a red carpet stretching from the door to the armchair. There was a young man sitting in it. A few guards were standing around.

The Big Boss stood up when they entered. 'Give me your weapon,' he ordered the guard at his right hand. Lerm felt a sudden faintness. Had he ordered them to his room just to enjoy shooting them himself? Was that why the carpet was red? Not to look luxurious but to conceal the blood of Big Boss' victims? He felt his eyes must look exactly as Grof's had done a half an hour ago.

'Leave us,' the Big Boss ordered. There still may be a chance to survive, then.

There were now just the three of them in the huge room, Aardvark, Lerm and the Big Boss who was holding an automatic rifle.

'So...' the Big Boss smirked, 'who has just returned into the motherly lap? Our washed brain and especially my little woosy bitch!'

'What bitch?!' Aardvark growled so aggressively Lerm doubted his psychological health.

'First,' the Big Boss said with a faint smile, 'we should set the rules of communication. Do you know what a monkey with a machine gun is called?'

'What?'

'A monkey with a machine gun is called "sir". So, if you don't speak to me with the respect I deserve you'll be given a brain drill.'

Aardvark didn't answer. He wasn't mad after all.

'Second,' the monkey with a machine gun continued, 'you are not the bitch. You are the washed brain.'

'Washed brain?' Aardvark said and then, when the gun barrel pointed at him, added: 'Sir.'

'So we've learned to behave, eh? Good. Yes, you are a washed brain. You are sort of a victim. That's why I was generous enough to let you live. Even though you tried to take my life. For a bloody bot!'

'You killed a person I loved!'

'You don't say! You really loved the Pleasurebot? Not only have you betrayed the ideas of the Human League but you even fucked the male variation of the machine! Disgusting! Have you always been a faggot? Have you always eyed boys in the showers or did they make you that despicable pervert during the brainwashing?'

'What brainwashing? I mean... sir...' the gun barrel turned away from him.

'You were taken captive after the raid. They took you into an upload centre and changed your memory and your values. But don't worry, we'll make you normal again once my bitch here tells me how to reinvent the microwave modificator she destroyed so foolishly.'

'What?' was the only word Lerm was able to express.

'Exactly, bitchie. Aren't you going to lick your master's shoes, bitchie?'

'What?' Lerm expressed again.

'Oh come on, bitchie. Don't tell me you've modified your own memory? That would be unfortunate. You had the ability, my woosie bitchie Corrosion.'

'Woosie bitchie Corrosion? Sir, I've never seen you before in my life.'

'You suppose I'd believe you?' the Big Boss aimed his gun at Aardvark's head. 'Now you spit out how to recreate the modificator or I'll shoot him!'

'But really, I have no idea what you're talking about,' Lerm defended himself. 'Believe me, if I knew anything I'd tell you.'

'He's right,' Aardvark tried to save his own life. 'He doesn't have the slightest idea who he is. His memory is blank. And he's a coward, he'd tell you everything if he had anything to say at all.'

'Oh, that's interesting,' the Big Boss smiled again, put the gun away and nestled down in his chair comfortably, 'and what is your name, eh?'

'Lerm,' Lerm answered truthfully.

Against all expectations, the Big Boss laughed loudly. 'What? Really? Didn't you have a better profile?'

Lerm's expression must have implied total ignorance because the Big Boss decided to speak: 'Alright, I believe I can tell you who you are. Or, better, were.' He was holding the weapon again, playing with it. All at once, the weapon fired. A burst of bullets pierced the wall.

'Oops,' he smiled, 'how did that happen?' He pointed the gun barrel at Lerm's head with a malevolent grin. 'You, my dear woosie bitchie, were a very able hacker; you called yourself Corrosion. And you always presented yourself as female on the internet. And what's more, in your wet nights, you dreamed of someone who'd kick you, rape you, short, subdue you. But being a nerd, you weren't able to pull anyone. That's why you hacked a Sysmode centre, downloaded a rejected profile with sadistic tendencies. You got your hands on a Garddonn and put the profile in it. And the Garddonn, my dear bitchie, was me.'

'That's nonsense,' Aardvark protested. 'HP would never let a Garddonn lead them.'

'That's the funniest thing about it. They don't know.' He went to the replicator, ordered an ionic mix and drank it. 'See?'

'But then,' Aardvark shot out, more thoughtful than attacking, 'didn't you just tell me off for sleeping with a male Garddonn? While you yourself are...' he paused. Obviously, he realized calling an android with a gun a 'fagbot' might be the last straw which would cost him his life, '...sir,' he finished awkwardly.

The Big Boss sat in his armchair again. He acted like he hadn't heard Aardvark's comment at all. He continued speaking to Lerm: 'And so I took the role of your master and you were my bitch and everything was fine. You brought me to the Human League and you vouched for me yourself. But I always had higher ambitions than just being the master of one perverted hacker. Hey, it just came to me... I'll have to kill this washed brain at last since he knows it all,' he was speaking about Aardvark as though he was just some sort of a shop item. 'Well, I don't suppose anyone would join him or believe him. But we are not going to have the modificator back to modify his memory since you have modified your own memory with it. Anyway, back to the story.' It was clear how much he enjoyed the situation. He was a classic sociopath, enjoying the uncertainty of his prisoners. 'In fact, you created the modificator in an effort to change me. You wanted to secretly erase some of my worst characteristics. Like this one.' He fired the rifle. The swarm of bullets missed Aardvark by a few feet. 'Terrible attribute, isn't it?' The Big Boss hooted with laughter. 'Anyway, you thought you'd trick me and use the modificator on me. But I tricked you and took it from you, because it could be used on people as well. And with huge success. But I underestimated my bitchie. She stole the prototype and escaped. To the Earth. There, you crashed. I knew you were never a decent pilot so I believed you died in the accident. But you were obviously much cleverer. You did it just to destroy the modificator. And it seems you cleared your memory just before that so no one could ever find out how to make the modificator again. And here comes the biggest joke of them all.'

'What joke?'

'That you obviously lost your connection and there was just one profile in the modificator's cache. And guess which one?'

'Which?'

'Mine.'

'Yours? You mean...'

'Yes, my dear friend. I am Lerm too.'

An awkward silence fell. Then, Aardvark turned to Lerm: 'So, not only did you bring this beast to life but you are also the same personality?' Lerm didn't know what to answer. The Big Boss, however, seemed in a very good mood and continued: 'Yes, exactly. Double bitchie, double beastie. That's exactly what your friend is. But I believed she was dead and would have let her live the rest of her life among the Pleasurebots, if not for the sweet Corticoid.'

'Corticoid?!' Aardvark shivered in disgust, clearly feeling everyone had betrayed him.

'Oh yes, Corticoid. Well, don't be mad at him, he didn't know. He's actually a nice guy. He's known me since our human life. Thanks to Corrosion's hacking abilities, I knew he lived near the accident location. So I contacted him and he blabbed all the news.'

'The raid in our street wasn't a coincidence, then?' Lerm asked.

'Of course it wasn't.'

'But those guys tried to kill me! You'd never have got the modificator back.'

'I suppose you're right but I was filled with anger that you'd dared to leave me. So I just wanted to know you were smashed to pieces. But those idiots screwed it up. And Corticoid refused to help me anymore. He had obviously become suspicious and told the authorities. I would have lost you but you were foolish enough to leave the Earth. I immediately knew when you had left. They nearly got you on that space station of theirs.'

'How do you know?'

'I just know.'

'He knows,' Aardvark interrupted, 'because in fact he's in league with Sysmode!'

'Tut tut,' the Big Boss answered, 'let's not interrupt such a lovely story with unfounded accusations. So, when I found out you were on the space station I sent fighters there to create havoc. You managed well. But how come you were so stupid you actually thought we didn't know your landing place? Our fighters were right behind you. And I already knew you could fake your own death. That's why I personally called that coder Grof...'

All at once, the room filled with a yellow gas, as though a smoke bomb had just blown up. The Big Boss started shouting something but his voice was inaudible because of a tremendous cough. The gas was obviously toxic to him but not to Lerm and Aardvark. In response to his sudden condition, the Big Boss started shooting all over the place. Aardvark took cover behind a pillar and Lerm followed him. Just a few seconds before a swarm of bullets cut through the space where he had been standing.

'Look,' Aardvark pointed at something on the ground, 'doesn't that look like an arrow?'

It did. A small glowing arrow was pointing towards a wall on their left, although they couldn't see the target, due to the thick gas surrounding them.

The entrance door banged. Guards had burst in. A scream came from where they had entered, indicating a guard had just been hit by the Big Boss' weapon.

'His rifle must overheat any second now,' Aardvark said quietly to Lerm so he barely heard it through the racket made by the gun.

And then, it stopped. Only the tremendous cough sounded in the throne room.

'Now!' Aardvark whispered and ran in the direction the arrow indicated.

They ran into a wall.

'Shit!' Aardvark hissed. A burst of bullets hit the wall a few feet from them.

'Here!' Lerm noticed there was an object in the wall, lit up in the same fashion as the arrows. He hit the object and a wide crack opened in the wall.

## Chapter 11: Witnesses of the Blue Light

Lerm couldn't believe their luck when the crack closed behind them and they stood in a narrow passage, lit only by a thin optoplasmatic cable. They had escaped the psychopath unscathed. There had been hundreds of bullets fired at them and not even one had hit them. And what was more, when the guards realized what the Big Boss' weird reaction to the gas meant, the HP would probably fall apart and the Big Boss would no longer stay a boss. When the members realized how he had made idiots of them, he would be lucky if he survived.

'Well, I wouldn't stay here for too long,' Aardvark interrupted his thinking. He was right; they hadn't escaped from the Big Asshole yet.

They ran through the passage. After about one hundred metres, it was blocked by a massive door. There was no handle, only a control panel with another arrow pointing at it. Aardvark tried to push the door but without any effect.

'I think we should use this,' Lerm pointed at the panel.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' Aardvark answered in an upset voice, 'but I still prefer trying to push the door before I put my paw on an unknown device.'

'I believe it's genuine. Whoever our secret friend is, he's saved our lives already.'

'Yes, but you have no idea why he did it, do you? It may not have anything to do with us. It may have been just a coincidence and when I put my hand on that thing, it will set off an alarm.'

'I think you're too paranoid.'

'Am I? And do you have any idea how long it has been here? What if there are bugs in the system and it does something unexpected?'

'Then put your snout in first.'

'What?'

'If there are any bugs you should put your snout in.'

It took Aardvark a while before he understood Lerm had actually made a joke.

'Hey! Aardvarks don't eat bugs! Our refined diet consists strictly of ants.'

'Pity. I suppose there wouldn't be any ants in there, would there?'

They both laughed. It was a strange feeling, after such a long time of stress and fighting to save their lives. It was the best feeling Lerm had felt since his escape from the house where he'd lived with Rea.

'I can't believe,' Aardvark said, laughing, 'that we are actually discussing Aardvarks' dietary customs.'

'Yeah,' answered Lerm, also laughing, 'aarkward, isn't it?'

They laughed again. And then, Aardvark put his palm on the control panel.

'Yo, megagrave!' a voice sounded from the device. The laughter choked in their throats.

There was Grof's smiling face, looking at him from the panel.

'Yeah, 'xactly,' it spoke, 'I'm the nice guy who helped ye ou'. Ye askin' why I did that? Why I put such a big effor' ter hack the system of those fascistic dogs, ter fin' a secret passage, ter sen' service bots lain' fluorescent arrows out and 'specially, layin' out my special gas-bomb which 'ctivates when my name is said? An' even ter hack 'eir door ter recognize ye. Well, my dear friends, I mus' tell ya a terrible secret. I'm the one responsible fer ya bein' caught.'

He left a dramatic pause on the recording, obviously thinking he had just revealed a terrible truth both would have to digest. He couldn't have known they'd not only know the whole story when hearing the record but that he, Grof, would already be dead when they did.

'I'm really sorry, guys,' the record continued, 'but 'ey came just before ya. They wanted to kill me. I really hope ye both go' here with no harm or 'therwise my conscience will kill me. 'nyway, when the recording ends, the door will open and let ye enter a service passage. Turn righ' at the third crossroad. Crossroad, no' just a branchin'! Ye'll go fer a long time so don' be 'fraid. Bu' ye have ter get ou' of the Big Asshole and that's bigger than after bein' deflowered with a megagrave. After ye turn, ye'll go straigh', no diversions, 'ntil ye get ter service door. Use yer strength, it should be easy ter break down. And since yer good friend Grof is such a genius ye'll find no' one, but two bikes and breathin' masks behin' the door. So, did I repay ye? I think I did, didn' I? Then please, do somethin' fer me. When ye jump on the bikes, then don', I repeat, don' drive 'em ter me. I wanna stay 'alive, capisto?'

The recording ended and a clicking noise sounded from the door. Aardvark pushed and it opened to reveal a service passage leading into darkness.

'Thanks, megagrave,' Aardvark whispered, 'ye really were a fuckin' genius.'

'So? Where are we going now?' Lerm asked while mounting a bike.

'Somewhere we can hide until it blows over.'

'Oh God, not some sort of a Pleasure Hotel again!'

'Not at all. Quite the opposite.'

'You already have a plan, don't you?'

'Yes. We are going to join the Witnesses of the Blue Light.'

'Is it a sect of some sort?'

'Yep. But don't use that word in front of them. They call themselves a "voluntary movement". Although they live by strict rules, they see themselves as chosen ones and they give you a new identity because you are reborn when joining their community.'

'Sounds a lot like a sect.'

'And it is. But we'll have to act as though we believe the same shit. So, don't confront them about that.'

'I wouldn't dream of anything of the sort.'

'Good. Now, to teach you how the bike works. You start the engine with this shit...'

Driving a lunar tricycle wasn't much harder than walking on the Moon on foot. Most of the bike's functions were performed automatically, so the driver just had to adjust the speed and chassis height, according to the surface type. The rule was to keep the chassis as low as possible because that allowed higher speed. When the speed was too high, a high chassis setting caused the bike to lose grip and jump uncontrollably. It could result in the tricycle turning over. On the other hand, if you kept the chassis too low it could result in the pressure wing being damaged. And losing the wing meant, as Aardvark said, that 'you were fucked up'.

Nevertheless, Lerm learned very quickly and he realized he really enjoyed riding the bike. When they stopped in front of a small blue-lit compound, he was positively sorry the trip had ended.

'Can I help you, brothers?' said a man with huge blue eyes whose face appeared on the panel next to the door which was lit by a blue lamp.

'We are pilgrims on the path to enlightenment,' Aardvark answered, obviously knowing the protocol.

'In that case, come and join us for we share the same path,' the man with blue eyes answered. The door opened.

Not all brothers and sisters of the Blue Light had the same representative blue-eyed look as the doorman had. But the less blue eyes there were the more blue light shone throughout the whole compound. It was in fact a big hydroponic garden located under a huge glass dome. There were just a few huts among the garden beds and one opulent residence on the edge of the compound, containing a community centre and rooms for the movement's elders. Anyway, most of the people slept under the dome with the blue Earth shining down on them. And in case its blue light died one day, there were hundreds of blue lamps sending rays of blue light everywhere.

Life in the compound wasn't bad. The newcomers had been given new names, they had received blue robes which they wore on bare skin and which were fastened around the hips with blue belts. They spent most of the time working in the garden. The only problem Lerm experienced was a total lack of privacy, with no chance for intimacy among the puritan Witnesses. To express it bluntly, he was unbelievably horny. The temperature was high and he was naked under the robe. And he knew all the women were too. But they were all as frozen as the blue tunics they wore. And even if they were not, there was no place to hide. Especially not from brother Knut, a sulky-looking Witness who seemed to be watching Lerm's every step. One day, while gathering blue berries called 'Witness' Balls', Lerm was so horny he hitched the robe up and got off in few seconds. He buried the sperm in the earth beneath a berry bush just few minutes before Knut came along, as surly as usual, probably because he had failed to catch Lerm misbehaving again.

The worst part of life among the Witnesses was probably the long and boring sessions in the community centre with the Elders (who were identified by the golden hems on their robe sleeves) explaining the basic articles of their faith. When Lerm heard the story of 'Creation and Mutilation' for the first time, he had a problem keeping himself from laughing. But when he had heard it for the twentieth time, it was just unbelievably dull.

The Story of Creation and Mutilation went like this:

At the beginning, there was the Creator. He had no form and he manifested only as a Blue Light, filling the emptiness of the uncreated space. Because he didn't like being alone, he created the first beings from himself. They shone with the Blue Light because they were still connected with the Creator. Alas, because the Creator loved his children he gave them their own free will. And many of his children decided to turn their backs on him and to extinguish the Blue Light within their souls. The worst of them became the Space Locusts, mutilated and sad beings, hiding from the Blue Light and trying to guzzle everything of which the light was feeble and dying.

Humans were among the beings whose Blue Light was slowly dying. Therefore, they had been endangered by the Space Locusts the most. Humans used to live on the Mars, but Mars turned away from the Creator and became red instead of blue. Humans were attacked by the Locusts and nearly annihilated. Only the Witness and his family were spared because they were still full of the Blue Light which even the red Mars couldn't overcome. The Witness took his family and moved to the last nearby planet still true to the Creator, the Earth. Before he died among his fast growing family, he wrote down the Story of Creation and Mutilation which has been passed down through the generations ever since.

The Space Locusts didn't dare approach Earth but they were determined to guzzle its inhabitants nonetheless. They used their agents to found Sysmode so they'd kill the Blue Light in humans and replace them with Pleasurebots, perverse dark beings, loyal to the Space Locusts. When there were enough of them they made the Pleasurebots rise against the humans.

Humans had to move to a new place then, the Moon. There, they can still live in the Blue Light of the Earth, which will never abandon them, despite the efforts of the Space Locusts who spread darkness across its surface.

'But people have forgotten,' the Elder gospelized, 'who is their true enemy. They accept the darkness and false lights and they let themselves be guzzled by the Space Locusts who lounge in the robot bodies, the empty shells without souls and they make them their Agents! And they fornicate, take dope, eat dark food made by replicators and kill each other. It is our duty to bring them back to the Creator and, by obeying the rules of simple and honest life, to fill our souls with the Blue Light of Creation. Then, all the Space Locusts and Agents will flee from us and all the souls which haven't been guzzled yet will be enthralled by our beauty and they will join us.'

Lerm sighed and rolled his eyes. And he caught a glimpse of the frowning face of brother Knut who was watching him again.

'Have you noticed brother Knut?' Lerm asked when they had been alone with Aardvark for a while.

'The frowning bloke? Yeah, what about him?'

'Does he also watch you strangely?'

'Well, I dunno, he looks serious. But I think he's just too dedicated.'

'I think he's a freak.'

'That's funny, hearing it from someone who created a psychopath because he wanted someone to whip him.'

This was the first time Aardvark had actually mentioned the events in the Big Asshole since they'd started living in the compound.

'I don't know,' Lerm absolutely forgot about brother Knut and said what he had wanted to say since they had escaped the Big Boss. 'I don't believe a word of what that crappy Boss of theirs was saying.'

'Why? It sounded logical to me.'

'He claimed that we are both the same person. But that can't be true. I'm not such a bastard.'

'Oh, really?' Aardvark asked ironically.

'I knew you'd say that. Yes, really!'

'You are an egoistic scumbag, like he is.'

'That's not fair! I'm no more egoistic than you are. And this guy shoots people just for fun!'

'Are you sure you wouldn't have gone that bad if you had the power?'

'Of course I'm sure, for God's sake!'

They heard steps. They turned around. Brother Knut was approaching them. Only now, did Lerm realize how loudly they had been speaking. Not that anyone could overhear what they were saying, but speaking in a loud voice was considered a sign that one's Blue light was going out. Therefore each member of the community was very careful not to speak loudly.

'What has happened to you, brother?' Aardvark asked Knut, in an innocent voice.

'Nothing serious, brother,' Knut answered, 'just took a bad step. But thank you for your concern.' He came up to them and whispered to Lerm: 'You two came here together, right?'

'Well... yes,' Lerm answered, puzzled.

'So you probably know each other?'

'Well enough, yes.'

'Good, because it's very hard catching you alone.'

'Why would you...'

Knut looked around if anyone was watching. The nearest sister was hoeing a field near the place Lerm had masturbated the day before, too far to hear them.

'You don't remember me, do you?' Knut asked, 'or you'd have come to me the first day you were here.'

'I don't,' Lerm answered truthfully.

'I shouldn't bother at all. They nearly killed me, thanks to you. And thanks to you, I'm here, in this holy hell-hole among the self-whipping wackos.'

'It looks like another life our friend has destroyed,' Aardvark grinned.

'But,' Knut ignored him, 'I'm such a nice fool so I'll finish the task you gave me!' He put something in Lerm's hand, 'Now you have it. And listen very carefully! This is the last thing I'm doing for you, understand?! I don't care if you save the world, I don't intend to sacrifice myself for you. From now on, I don't know you!' He turned and left.

Lerm watched him leaving, puzzled. 'Well, I don't know you either,' he said in a low voice, probably to feel less awkward.

'Another guy who loves you, eh?' Aardvark couldn't resist the temptation of poking him. Then he looked at his hand, 'What is that thing?'

Lerm opened his palm.

'Oh,' Aardvark evaluated its content, 'a data shredder. But where to... well... it may be compatible with the bike panels. So, what would you say to a land-reconnaissance job?'

Getting a bike from the Witnesses wasn't an easy task. All members' property was passed to the community and it wouldn't give it back lightly. Especially when a former owner of a bike enrolled for a land reconnaissance mission – it looked suspicious. But Aardvark managed to persuade the stock manager about their good intentions and he was given one of the bikes they'd come on. As they left the compound gates, wearing warm overalls and breathing masks, more than one member of the movement eyed them with suspicion.

Lerm sat on the driver's seat and Aardvark didn't protest. To Lerm's disappointment, Aardvark told him to stop after few minutes of driving.

'We have gone far enough. Give me the shredder.'

Aardvark took the data shredder and put it into a narrow gap next to the panel. The location information disappeared and an icon replaced it. Aardvark pushed it and Lerm gasped. His own face was looking at him.

## Chapter 12: A Matter of Good and Evil

'I think' Aardvark said after a minute of silence, 'it is waiting for your palm imprint.'

'Oh,' Lerm said and pushed his palm against the panel. It shone, a quiet fanfare sounded and his own face spoke:

'Hi, Corrosion. Or, I suppose, not Corrosion but Lerm now. Right? Yes, you can believe your eyes. It's me. Which means you. And if you are seeing this video, then Rambian has fulfilled his task and found you. He's a very nice guy and a great hacker but he's sort of a coward, I'm afraid. Anyway, I've made this recording so I could tell you - me – what the fuck is going on.'

Both Lerms took a deep breath. The one displayed on the screen continued: 'So, where to start? At the beginning, I suppose?'

'Why does he stretch it out so much?!' Aardvark murmured.

'So, I'm Corrosion, a hacker, fighting profile filtering.'

'We know that already!' Aardvark was nearly shivering with anticipation.

'And when I was trying to get into the Central Profile Database, I found something really odd.'

'I hate people who love drama...'

'They don't just filter the profiles. They are doing something more...'

'Just say it, for fuck's sake!'

'He can't hear you,' the live Lerm smiled cheekily.

'Oh, you're a smart guy, eh?'

'They've developed a device,' the face on the panel continued, 'called a "micro-wave modificator" which can adjust any profile to the owner's needs. And the worst thing is, they can do it even to a human brain. They were thinking of using it on the Earth, to change the humans living there so they would not spoil their beautiful world. I hated the idea. That's why I tried getting into their system and deleting the data about the project. But I didn't succeed. On the contrary, they, the guys from the Central Database, found me. They asked me why I was trying to harm them. Well... a long story short...'

Aardvark grinned.

'...we exchanged philosophical views and theirs surprised me by being very acceptable. That started a fruitful debate. Then, they agreed to stop any profile corrections if I proved my point. And what is my point? Well, I believe a character is not predestined by the basic profile but it is much more influenced by its surrounding society and experiences. I believe their society is so nice not due to the profile selection but due to the fact its members don't need to fear death, disease or starvation. If they are not exposed to pathological influences, there is no reason why any bad characteristics should develop. As I said, the Central Database agreed to cease the selection if I proved I'm right. I hope you realize what a turning point this would be. For humanity. And Pleasurebity,' he laughed at his own neologism, 'and so we chose a profile which had been rejected from the database as pathological and put it into two Garddonni living in absolutely different conditions. One was called Lerm and we put him among human conservatives of the worst kind. The other one was named Eli Rea and was made a security officer on Earth.'

'So, the fascist bitch was also you?' Aardvark noted.

'Shh,' Lerm silenced him and prodded his chest with an elbow, a little harder than needed to show he didn't want to be disturbed while listening.

'The third one,' Corrosion continued in his story, 'was meant to be sent into a paradox situation of some sort. Unfortunately, Sysmode guys found out about this project and decided to stop it. If I understand it right, rejecting the profile selection would take most of their power away. That's why they pushed the Central Database guys to agree the test wouldn't be convincing if it was conducted only on bots. That meant it had to be tested on a human as well. Of course, we couldn't force any human being to undergo the test, and it seemed the project would be cancelled I decided to undergo it myself. Which means I'm going to do the following: I'll fly towards the Earth with a microwave modificator inside my fighter. I will program it to nosedive and to activate a catapult before the fighter crashes. Then, I'll change my personality completely. I will send my profile to a CD upload centre to store it. You can imagine how much I want it to get there! It will be tight. The upload should be completed a few seconds before the crash. And I hope the catapult will work. Otherwise this recording will be pointless. Oh God, so many things can go wrong! If I'm lucky enough to survive the crash, I may end up being you for the rest of my life. No offense, mate...' he laughed again.

'He was mad,' Aardvark commented, 'but a hero nevertheless, no denying it.'

'So, now,' Corrosion continued, 'this is where your part starts. I don't know whether you are now on Earth or on the Moon. In any case, you must go to an Earth upload centre. But be careful! It must be one belonging to the Central Database! Not a Sysmode one! I don't understand their relationship well but I've made the deal with the CD. I'm pretty sure Sysmode will discard the results. And if you are seeing this movie, we are very close to finishing the project and changing the world! They already have the results of Lerm and Eli Rea now because these were scanned automatically. But your brain must be analysed. Yes, analysed. It means it will be destroyed. But look what you've already sacrificed. Well, what I've sacrificed. But anyway, you have the opportunity to prove it doesn't matter what profile you've had. Not to mention you'll be doing a great service for the world. Also, if you do, we will both receive a Garddonn. And if the profile filter is switched off you will be available for download again. Which means, there will be a future for you. Now, this shred contains information about a fighter hidden on the Moon. Rambian knows too, so either he goes to the Earth to find you or he finds you on the Moon and then you will have to grab the fighter and go. The fighter's navigational system contains a worm which will hack the centre's signal so you'll see which are Sysmode's and which are CD's. Just do it, man. For me, for you and for the world. I know you can do it and I believe you will. Don't let me down!'

The recording ended and information about where the fighter had been hidden appeared on the screen. Lerm was still watching it, half-expecting his own face to appear there again, laughing, telling him it had been kidding. Aardvark was still sitting on the bike behind him, as he had been during the whole time they had been watching the video.

'Well,' Aardvark interrupted the silence after a while, 'I must say you've surprised me. You may be a hero after all.'

'Forget it!' Lerm answered.

'Forget what?'

'You honestly think I don't know why you're saying this?'

'Saying what?'

'Aardvark, you are a manipulator, I know you well enough. Do you really think I'll go and let my skull be sliced off, just because you call me a hero?'

'But... you said yourself...'

'I didn't say anything. He did, Corrosion. If he sacrificed himself for the greater good, fine. I won't.'

'Don't you understand the importance of this? You fought for a righteous cause. Eli Rea and Big Boss became absolutely different persons; they proved your point.'

'The same error again! They proved Corrosion's point, not mine. Anyway, if they are both in their database, they know anyway.'

'Yes, but they can't do anything until you turn yourself in.'

'Why should I care about a filter of any kind? Their society is alright with it.'

'This is not even about the filter!'

'What is it about then?'

'About defeating Sysmode!'

'I don't care about Sysmode either.'

'But you should! Because they are the reason for everything bad that happens. The terrorists, the oppression, all the killing. They are the reason I became a fugitive.'

'Really?' Lerm turned at him, 'how so?'

Aardvark got off the bike, walked a few steps away and looked at the blue Earth in the sky.

'Haven't you ever wondered why people live on the Moon?'

'Course I have. I just didn't have much time to think about it. I was too busy escaping deadly perils.'

'Also, how do you think the Big Boss knew you were on the station?'

'What does that have to do with Sysmode?'

'It has everything to do with Sysmode. Do you even know what Sysmode is, Lerm?'

'Some guys who control the database?'

'Well, not exactly. It all began with the foundation of the Central Bureau of Science, an organization funded by Earth governments. They came up with the discovery of a way to save the human psyche. At that time, Sysmode was just a company creating androids. And since CBS couldn't test their discovery on real humans, they made a deal with Sysmode. Sysmode created the first Pleasurebot series and started offering transfers on a commercial basis. Legally, it was euthanasia, which was allowed in some countries. But the directors of Sysmode were money-hungry bastards and they sued CBS for patent infringements regarding the Pleasurebots and the database. They won the right to be the only company creating Pleasurebots. They nearly won the right to the whole database as well. What saved CBS was renaming the organization to the Central Database and restricting the whole purpose of the organization to database administration.'

'Aardvark, I don't care about some dispute between two companies. You and Corrosion love the Central Database - so what? I don't see why I should get myself killed to help one or the other.'

'For fuck's sake! This is not about some personal preferences. Sysmode is the evil here! A profit-driven company which would sacrifice anyone and anything to increase its power.'

'Is the Central Database any better?'

'Of course!'

'Okay, continue with the story, then.'

'Well, the CD created a new type of bot so it wouldn't be dependent on the Sysmode ones anymore. Their Garddonn was much better than Sysmode's Pleasurebot, though it was much more expensive to build. Sysmode was in danger of losing its power again. A new round of patent trials began. This resulted in a totally paradoxical situation in which the Central Database became an owner of the Garddonn patent and administrator of the database but Sysmode became a service company which had the only right to administer all the filters and to evaluate their necessity and their settings. This made them independent and gave them the power to control the population. And they use this power not only to create their brand new world but also to create agents who help them increase their influence.'

'Don't take me wrong, man, but this sounds awfully like that space locusts thing!'

'But that is true!'

'Oh, and how do you know, eh? Being a terrorist on the Moon, a common member of the Human League...'

'Because the Human League is controlled by Sysmode as well!'

'No kidding?'

'No, really, it is. That's the reason I didn't come back from the raid. I overheard a meeting between the highest bastards from Sysmode and the Human League. I realized what a fool I'd been, believing them. The raids suit Sysmode because they strengthen its position. All those living on Earth see how great their society is in comparison to the vile killing animals from the Moon who call themselves humans. They believe the only thing which saves them from being such animals themselves are the filters. Who do you think gives the fighters to the Human League? Sysmode does! So, you must understand how important the Corrosion project is. It is the way to beat them!'

'Do you really think all the killing would stop?'

'Absolutely!'

'Who do you think these guys in the upload centre were? I mean the ones you saved me from?'

'Those you escaped from through that well were definitely from Sysmode because they tried to drown you.'

'I mean the upload centre. They were CDs, weren't they?'

'I honestly don't know.'

'They wanted to kill me to get my brain out. It sounds very much like the Central Database.'

'Perhaps the Sysmode guys were so sure you couldn't escape they tried to get more information about the project...'

'But they could have been CDs, right?'

'Well... I suppose.'

'And now they want to kill me to finish a project. And you're telling me destroying Sysmode would stop the killing? When the Central Database is willing to do the same?'

'They don't want to kill you, man. If Sysmode gets its hands on you, it'll kill you. And it will never stop looking for you. You'll never be safe. But the Central Database will give you a new body and everything! And if they get the proof about the filters being needless, Sysmode will become just an owner of a patent for obsolete Pleasurebots. Look, we have both suffered a lot. I didn't know why I had to lose my love and my home and everything. But it makes sense now! I am here to help you change the world! I have lost everything to help you destroy Sysmode!'

'Pity it was all pointless, then,' Lerm said, to put a damper on his enthusiasm.

'Pointless? You can't be serious!'

'I am not going anywhere. I still don't see why I should care about Sysmode. And even if they search for me, I still think a short life as a fugitive is better than committing suicide immediately.'

'Not even if it helps millions?'

'Not even if it helps millions! Corrosion may have been right about the three of us becoming totally different persons but I am still Lerm. I'm not Corrosion, I'm not a hero. I don't give a fuck about the millions. I just want to live.'

'I can't believe you are so egoistic!'

'Look at Lerm's profile, mate. Something like "egoistic, messianistic tendencies but not if it should endanger him". And this endangers me. Anyway, don't be so hypocritical, you wouldn't do it either!'

'You can still trade the information for much more than Corrosion ever believed. A new body with Eli Rea at your side. And Moulan alive with me again...'

'Oh, great, so I'll lose my human body and will be given two bots with two identical profiles?'

Aardvark opened and closed his mouth few times, obviously searching for a new argument. He couldn't find one.

'So? What are you going to do, then?' Aardvark asked him in the silent voice of a broken man.

'Well,' Lerm answered slowly, 'I think I'm going to get the fighter. I believe I will be able to sell it for a nice new identity of some sort, in the Big Asshole or somewhere like it.'

'You really mean it?'

'Of course I do. Do you want me to take you home before I do?'

'What home?'

'The Witnesses' compound, of course.'

'You call that home?'

'Well, I can give you a lift anywhere on the Moon, for old times' sake,' he smirked.

'There is no place for me to go. Nor for you!'

'Suit yourself,' Lerm started the engine. 'Going on foot, then?'

He felt the bike sinking a little as Aardvark sat on the seat behind him.

'I thought you might appreciate a lift,' Lerm said. 'So, where it will be, sir?'

'The Earth,' Aardvark answered darkly.

Lerm woke up, lying in bed, in the flat he knew well. He turned his head to the window and saw Eli Rea sitting in sunlight, drinking an ionic mix. When she heard the rustling of bed sheets she literally jumped with excitement and ran towards him.

'Honey,' she hugged him, covering his face with her bosom, 'you're up! I was afraid you'd never wake up.'

'What happened?' he asked, puzzled. His head resisted when he tried to remember anything.

'You were shot. It nearly caused your functions to stop but you've pulled through. You've been unconscious for two weeks!'

Lerm tried to recall his last memory. 'I remember we were running on the street, away from the Moon terrorists. And that's all.'

'Yes, that's where they shot you. Anyway, I believe there will be no more raids in the future. You've been part of an historical event.'

'How so?'

'It has been found out they weren't just from the Moon but they were led by Sysmode agents. The Central Database came up with a proof of their atrocities. Would you believe the whole thing with profile filters was just a scam? Really! They needed it to make their agents.'

Lerm's brain was trying to send signals somewhere in the depths of his memory. But there was nothing there.

'Sysmode?' Lerm whispered.

'Oh yes, Sysmode. Everything's changing, darling! One day, you'll be telling how you were shot when the revolution started. People got angry and they are bringing the Sysmode superiors to justice. But the most important thing is you're alive! I must send a message to Aardvark and Moulan. They'll surely want to come and say hello.'

'Aardvark?' He felt the sensation of his brain sending signals to an empty place again.

'Yes, Aardvark. He was really concerned when it happened. I may argue with him but he's a nice guy. He really likes you. Oh, that reminds me! I should check the replicator. It makes a perfect ionic drink but it has a problem with anything else. And we should be able to give Aardvark something which doesn't harm him. You know how fragile these humans are,' she laughed and put a glass of ionic mix on the bedside table next to Lerm's head.

###

The Deleted Ones

by

Martin Kolacek

Thank you for reading the book 'The Deleted Ones'. If you like it, check the other works of Martin Kolacek at Smashwords.com or at his webpage:

martin-kolacek.cz/en-us/
