 
### All Worlds

### Fantasy And Science Fiction

### Series Starters

### Kristie Lynn Higgins

Text © 2018

Smashwords Ebook Edition

02242018

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

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

### AabiLynn's Dragon Rite

### #0

### Dragon's Brood

### Egg Hatchlings' Ritual

### Kristie Lynn Higgins

Book One of the Series

Text Copyright © 2014, 2018 by Kristie Lynn Higgins

Cover Art Copyright © 2014, 2018

Ebook Edition

02222018

Kilauea Caldera and Volcano at Night were both created by Jules Tavernier

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

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

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

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

Prologue

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

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

AabiLynn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I do not," he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cara ran over to Hellen and hid behind her again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Journey To Firedrake

Seven years later...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Days later...

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever happened to it?" Barman questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Bork shouted back.

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

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

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

The Birthing

The group pressed on and the path ended at Firedrake, the north-east nests of the dragons. The large open area formed an enclosed half circle, and the caves laid beyond that. Some distance from the caves was a stable, and they quickly rode to the structure.

Bork dismounted his horse as Cara slid off behind him. He tied up his horse at the watering trough. Inside the stable, several horses and other riding animals could be heard moving about their stalls.

"Hurry, girl," he said. "We are late."

"Yes, master," Cara replied as she limped to their pack horse and started unloading the equipment. She was twelve now, and it was her first time leaving the tribal lands, so she peered around at the strange land of the dragons.

Bork brought his son and his two friends to participate in the Dragon Rite. She was there to prepare their meals while they stayed in Firedrake. The ceremonial acts would take about five fortnights.

The dracoman, who had spoken with them earlier, approached as he told them, "You must come now. The queen has already started her birthing pangs. Quickly, this way!"

Bork started after the dracoman, paused, and shouted, "Fetch the gifts, girl. The rest of our items you can unload later. We are late for the first act of the Dragon Rite. Turk, Barman, and Cyan, come with me. The queen shall soon lay her eggs if she has not already."

"Yes, father," Turk replied.

The three boys dismounted, removed their swords from their bedrolls, and followed Bork, and he led them toward the caves. Two large dragons guarded the entrance. They were tall, three horses high, and winged. One dragon was the color of bronze and the other was teal.

"I shall leave you here," the dracoman spoke. "I need to return to my patrol."

He walked off without another word.

The teal colored dragon carefully eyed the four of them, and then he said, "Dragon Elder Duran awaits you, Bork. You need to proceed with haste to the Ritual Room. The first act of the Rite is about to begin. It cannot be delayed."

"We shall hurry," Bork replied, and then he started in and paused. "Blasted! Where is that girl? We need the gifts. Useless girl! Turk, go see what is keeping her."

"Yes, father," Turk answered, and then he hurried back to their horses as the others continued into the cave.

At the stables...

Cara was having difficulty undoing the buckle to the pack. She finally unbuckled it and removed the wooden chest from the pack. She held the chest in her left hand and started toward the caves when something caught her eye in the sand. She reached down, picked up a bloodstone the size of a walnut, and examined it as she said, "This is pretty."

"What is taking you so long, wench?" Turk barked as he approached her from her blindside.

Startled by his sudden appearance, she looked up, saw his angry face, and clasped her hand around the bloodstone to hide it from him. If he found it, she wouldn't be allowed to keep it but that wasn't the only thing she feared from him. Trepidation ransacked her heart like one of the great tempest that ravaged her homeland, and she pleaded, "Forgive me, young master. I could not–"

He walked up and backhanded her as he yelled, "Do not give me excuses!"

She held her reddening face, but his reaction was mild compared to other times. The sting of the strike made her pause as fear of what he might do next whirled in her mind. Cara chose her next words carefully and made them few as she spoke, "Forgive me."

He grabbed the wrist of her stunted arm and jerked her toward him, and she nearly dropped the chest. She caught it with her right hand as he squeezed bruises that were already days old. The veins in his neck bulged with his targeted wrath as he started to yell, but then two dracomen walked by.

Turk leaned in close and whispered to her, "There is no forgiveness for you, wench. Now hurry, before my father yells at the both of us."

Once he released her, she ran as fast as she could. He jogged beside her, and they passed the two dragon guards. The dragons eyed them but said nothing. They proceeded further in, and Turk didn't let up on her.

"You are so worthless!" he yelled. "I do not understand why my father keeps you. You are slow, ugly, and incapable of doing any real work, and I am the one that has to hear it when you fail to do your duties. Wench, go faster."

"Yes, young master," Cara said as she hurried even more to the point of almost falling over in her awkward gimp. She never understood the rage he had toward her. He never treated the other slaves as he did her. She wondered why she was any different. Maybe it was Bork's wife who influenced her son's wrath.

They hustled through a tunnel, and the air cooled the deeper they went. Wooden torches along the walls lit the way. He moved in behind her and watched as she rushed in her graceless gait. They were moving too slow and this enraged him even more.

"Look at her," he muttered to himself as his anger turned to loathing. Look how weak she was. His tribe was a proud tribe and a race of warriors. He didn't understand why her parents allowed her to live or his father. Even if she was a girl, she represented his tribe. How could they show their faces with such weakness at their side? When he became tribal leader, all of that would change. No feebleness would be allowed.

Upon entering the large cavern of the Ritual Room, Turk removed his sword's scabbard from his belt and tripped her with it. She fell sprawl out, and the lid of the wooden chest came open, its contents spilled out, and three marbles made of gold clanged to the stone floor. Everyone in the room turned at the sound.

Three candidates from each of the other four tribes were assembled along with Bork, Barman, and Cyan. The other candidates were about the same age as Turk and his friends. The chief of the chieftains of each tribe or the second highest ranking chieftain was there. There were also four Venetian Red Scribes to record the event, and Dragon Elder Duran and two other dragon elders waited patiently.

Stalagmites and stalactites filled the Ritual Room that was not only lit by torches but by several basket-shaped cast iron fire stands. The stone path led down into a white sandy area. The sand had phosphorescent microbes living in it and anywhere where darkness prevailed, the sand glowed a light green.

"Blasted girl!" Bork blurted, embarrassed by her.

Barman and Cyan snickered as Turk came their way with a big grin on his face. He was pleased that his intention just to trip her up had also caused her great embarrassment. His father will be furious with her, and maybe his father would pay less attention to her. Turk's mother had whispered many things to Turk about this slave, it had infuriated him since he was a boy, and he mistreated her for it.

Cara looked around at the many male faces staring at her, and her face flushed as she quickly picked up the gold marbles and placed them back in the chest. She hurried to Bork, and the sand was cold to her bare feet.

"Take them to the elder," Bork ordered.

She turned and timidly approached the large yellow dragon. She had never met a dragon before, and she had never met anything so big. He looked as if he could swallow her whole if he so chose to.

"Are these the gifts?" Dragon Elder Duran questioned her as he stared at the wooden chest.

She couldn't look him directly in the face, and she nodded. The dragon smelled of earth, and his feet were as large as her body.

Dragon Elder Duran motioned beside himself with his head as he instructed her, "Place them in the Bestowal Basin. It is located on the raised area known as the Middle Ground."

She searched the area he motioned to and saw a shallow silver bowl on a stalagmite that had been cut into a pedestal. The Bestowal Basin was positioned halfway between the Ritual Room and the Quickening Chamber where the queen paced. There were also several dragons standing guard over their queen within the Quickening Chamber. Cara moved from the Ritual Room toward the center of the great cave to the point the dragon had motioned to. The Middle Ground consisted of a circular dark gray stone platform that had three steps going up to it. The stone was big enough that several dragons could stand on it. She moved up the steps to the pedestal as the dragon came up behind her. The Bestowal Basin was so large that both of her arms would only encompass half of it. She was barely tall enough to look inside. She got on her tippy toes and saw twelve gifts within. There were three rubies, three silver coins, three diamonds, and three emeralds. She placed in the three gold marbles, and the bloodstone she had been holding in the same hand also fell in, so Cara reached in and retrieved it. She started back to her master.

Dragon Elder Duran saw the glint of red before she scooped it out of the basin. He knew how some humans liked to take things that didn't belong to them, and he couldn't allow her to steal one of the gifts, so he said, "Wait, child. What did you retrieve from the gifts?"

She tilted her head as if she didn't understand his question, so he rephrased it by saying, "What are you holding in your hand?"

"My hand?" She paused, opened her palm, showed it to him, and then she replied, "Only this."

He noticed what he thought was a ruby, and Dragon Elder Duran warned her, "All gifts are to go in. You may not remove them once they have gone in the Bestowal Basin. You must return the gem."

She would have argued that it wasn't part of the gifts or a gem, but she was too afraid to do so. She quickly turned, went back up to the pedestal, dropped the bloodstone in, and rushed back to her master.

Bork leaned down to her and whispered, "Girl, did the elder catch you stealing?"

"No, master. I–"

"Quiet..." he ordered, then straightened, and said, "Blasted girl... I shall deal with you later."

Syllabary, one of the Venetian Red Scribes, stepped forward and said, "Now that we have all gathered, please follow me. The queen is this way in the Quickening Chamber."

He and the other scribes wore scarlet robes embroidered with gold. They held a Convey Scroll and Blazing Quill, and a leather satchel rested at their side. They walked up a ramp of rock to a raised area ten feet up from the ground called the Observers Dais just beside the Middle Ground. From this advantage point, they could see everything within the Ritual Room, the Quickening Chamber, and especially the Middle Ground. The Venetian Red Scribes went and stood on top where they could witness the Dragon Rite, but they were still out of the way. The dragon elders joined them on the Observers Dais and stood behind the Venetian Red Scribes near the back wall. The four Venetian Red Scribes formed a line close to the edge of the Observers Dais, facing the Middle Ground and once they were all in position, they began.

"Expositus!" the scribes shouted.

Each of their scrolls magically lifted from their hands, unrolled, and hovered in front of them. The Convey Scrolls were created from the bark of a Floating Tree of Amber and endowed with magic. Whatever the scribe wrote on it would be there one moment, and then it would be whisked away to their Chronicle Tome located in the Scribe Hall in the Capital of Athenia. Their accounts would remain in the Tome that even fire couldn't destroy. The Blazing Quill was also magical and never ran out of ink, and it was made from a sphinx feather and glowed when in use. They started writing their account of the first ceremonial act, and the blazing light from their quills lit their faces.

The area filled with the noise of the candidates and their patrons as they all walked to a connecting cavern called the Quickening Chamber. There, the dragon queen labored in the middle of laying her first egg. She grunted and growled with her pain-filled efforts. Her vocal exertion frightened a few of the candidates as they formed a line to watch. For most, this was their first time participating in the Dragon Rite. They quieted and watched the queen.

The Quickening Chamber was very warm as steam from small pools of hot springs mixed with the cold air of the caves. The queen continued to labor in the birthing and soon produced her first egg. The egg popped out covered in a yellowish-green substance that slid down its surface until it collected in a small pool surrounding the egg and seemed to keep it from rolling around. The first egg was massive as tall as a boy and murky-black. It was so black that it looked at Cara as if it consisted of the Void itself.

"Dragon Elder Duran–" Syllabary began as he stepped back from the line of scribes to the back wall where the dragons stood. His Convey Scroll followed him as he moved, and it floated behind him. Syllabary leaned to the yellow dragon and said, "–that egg is unusually large."

"It is," Dragon Elder Duran replied. "I have never seen one its size before. Maybe it is a good sign. Let us hope our queen can lay a female egg among this clutch. We are in need of a young queen. As the smallest of all the dragon nests, we have only one queen, and she is nearing the time when she shall stop laying."

"What about the other nests?" Syllabary inquired as he took up writing again with his Blazing Quill. "Can they give you one of their queens?"

"At the moment, they have none to spare. Perhaps when the beginning of this Dragon Rite is complete and there are no females among the hatchlings, you can go to the other nests and see if you can find a queen for us."

"Maybe I shall. I could use a journey and see country that has some green in its hue. Though as much as I would like to go, let us pray your queen produces an heir."

Next, the queen laid an egg that was half the size of the first and copper in color. The third egg was the same size as the second and purple. The fourth egg was the same and light blue. The queen paced the area as her labor pains increased.

"Maybe there is another large egg," Syllabary stated.

"Perhaps," Dragon Elder Duran said. "Or perhaps it is something else."

With great difficulty, the queen finally laid the last egg. It was small, very small. The egg was the size of a melon and pale in color.

"This is vexing," Syllabary said as he stopped writing. "Is something wrong with the egg?" He moved, walked down the rocky ramp as his scroll followed, walked around the Middle Ground to the Quickening Chamber, and drew near the queen first and once there, he rubbed her nose. He did this to make sure she wouldn't act violently toward him when he approached her brood. Syllabary then examined each of the eggs and came to the smallest one. He spoke, "It has a crack. The small egg may never hatch."

"Perhaps..." Dragon Elder Duran began. He had followed Syllabary and also looked over the clutch. Duran said, "There are no spots on any of the shells. The eggs are all male. Let us begin the first act of the Dragon Rite." He turned to the boys gathered and commanded them, "Candidates select an egg."

Bork leaned to his son and told him, "Remember the plan and act with your head. If you do this, then maybe at least one of you can become a dracoman."

"Yes, father."

The majority of the boys, including Turk, rushed to the large murky-black egg.

His two friends followed, and Turk turned to them and ordered them, "Choose a different egg. If we spread out, then maybe at least one of us shall bring honor to our tribe."

They did as he told them. Barman went and stood by the purple egg, and Cyan went and stood by the light blue one. Out of the fifteen candidates, six stood around the large murky-black egg. Three candidates stood around the copper, three around the purple, and three around the light blue one. None stood by the small damaged pale egg. The boys started stroking their selected eggs and talking to them.

The girl asked Bork, "Master, what happens if no one chooses the small egg?"

"I do not know. Now be quiet, girl," Bork snapped, and then he stated in a low voice, "What a waste? One less egg for the Rite. What a useless thing?"

Cara stared up at him as she saw the disgusted look on Bork's face he had given her many times but this time, the look was directed at the egg.

Dragon Elder Duran heard her question, and he answered her, "It shall be cast out if it is not chosen. It is the rule of the Dragon Rite. It shall be abandoned to another fate."

"Cast out?" she exclaimed under her breath. "Abandoned to another fate?"

Cara didn't understand why they would abandon a baby because it was too small and may be damaged. She glanced at her stunted left arm and leg. Was the egg considered useless like her? Did the world also consider this tiny egg unworthy of care and love? She wondered if they would get rid of him because he was different just as her parents had gotten rid of her. Cara had been cast out from her family, and she had been abandoned to a horrible fate. No other living thing should have to go through what she had. Cara felt a twinge of compassion within her heart. All of her life she had been the abjected one. She never let it show, but Bork and his family's harsh words and cruel actions towards her hurt her deeply. Someone needed to protect the egg from the same kind of tormenting rejection.

"Are all candidates set on their choice?" Duran questioned.

"We are," they all answered.

"It is a pity," Duran stated as he looked over the small egg. "We have not had a rejected egg in nearly a hundred years. It shall need to be removed. Call forth the Relegator," he ordered.

One of the dragons, who stood guard within the Quickening Chamber, walked to one of the connecting tunnels and screamed a dragon call and after some time, a large man entered who wore a black leather mask to conceal his face. He was bare-chested and larger than Bork. The Relegator wielded a large weapon. The weapon was made of steel, long, and had what looked like a mallet's head at one end and two spear-like projections at the other end.

"Which one?" the Relegator questioned.

"The small pale one," Dragon Elder Duran answered.

The Relegator approached the egg, then paused, and glanced at the queen. The queen nodded to him, and the Relegator proceeded towards the egg as he gripped his weapon tightly. He had a wildness in his eyes as if he would break open the egg and eat it. The Relegator lifted the mallet end of the weapon as he drew closer to the egg.

Cara watched in horror. They were going to hurt the egg. She feared he was going to smash the baby dragon. Was the egg so worthless in the others' eyes that they would allow it to be killed? She frantically glanced around at the boys, wondering if none of them would select it. She took a couple of steps forward. It might be small and appear to be damaged but that didn't mean it was worthless or useless. Small didn't mean he couldn't fly.

She realized the boys were too busy cooing their eggs to notice the monster of a man who was going to destroy the rejected one. Cara took a few more steps forward. The Relegator was only a few paces away from the egg as he stomped across the ground in his slow but determined stride.

Someone had to save the egg. Maybe its mother would. Cara looked at the queen, but the female dragon made no movement to save her own child. The queen actually turned her back on the small egg and focused her attention on the other eggs. The queen turned her back on her child just as Hellen had turned her back on her. Cara wondered if the queen was like her father and Hellen. Would the queen simply watch as her child was..?

No! Cara screamed within her mind. Someone had to stop him! Don't let the baby dragon die because it was unwanted. Tears welled in her light blue eyes as she whispered, "Someone... save the baby dragon. Someone must save him."

Dragon Elder Duran noticed she moved towards the egg and turned in her direction as the Relegator stood over the pale egg and lifted his weapon above his head.

"Don't let him," Cara continued to whisper. "Don't let him hurt him." Tears streamed down her face and before she knew what she was doing, Cara had limped over to the egg and gently covered it with her body, closed her eyes, and screamed out, "Do not kill it! Don't hurt this baby!"

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### Beauty of the Beast #1 The Mystic Rose

### Part A

### The Flower, The Sword, And The Kiss

### Kristie Lynn Higgins

### 2005, 2018 ©

### Ebook Edition

### 02242018

The Monastery of San Michele, Italy painting created by Carlo Bossoli

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

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

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

Prologue

A Bit of History

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

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

The Beast

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han thrust his small wooden sword, and Edward blocked.

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

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

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

The Prince bowed his head in defeat. He hated losing.

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

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

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

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

"Yes," she answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why haven't you picked yourself a name?" the commander questioned.

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

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

"Pluck..?" she repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han looked at the carriage driver.

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir," Bulwark and Von replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pluck started to shout.

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

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

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

His question surprised her, so she didn't answer.

"Do you love me?" he repeated.

"Yes, I have always–"

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

Pluck didn't answer him only nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe you shouldn't. It belongs to someone," Pluck insisted as she noticed more statues of large cats encircling the room. "Please, let's leave."

"I am the Prince. What I want I possess," Edward declared as he crossed stone steps to the bush. Glittering sparkles surrounded the Rose like fluttering pixies. He carefully grabbed the stem of the white Rose, broke it from the bush, then waited a couple of moments to see if anything would happen, and headed back. Edward said, "See... Nothing... Now let us return."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How pretty," she uttered as she looked at her index finger, and her eyes widened as magical sparkles materialized. The multicolor lights danced about like fairies, and a black dot appeared on her fingertip. Two black lines shot from the circle and split, curving around to the top. The lines joined and created four separate rings up to her knuckle, and then the sparkles faded.

Pluck questioned, "Is this magic?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She blushed, before whispering, "The Kiss."

The Rose's petals changed to pink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both children paled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han turned to the men who were still with him and ordered them, "All of you out." They did as commanded, and he removed his red cape, covering Pluck, and then ordered the woman, "Change her back."

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

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

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

"But why?" Han repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

Han nodded.

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

Han demanded, "Take back the hex."

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

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She lifted her feline eyes.

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

Time Passes

Fourteen seasons later...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

"I was nine then..." Pluck muttered.

In the memory...

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

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

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

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

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

The present...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not everyone believes this?"

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

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

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

"Peaceful night," Pluck spoke.

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Put them on," he ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, I heard, child," the protector spoke as she appeared above the pool and floated down to her. "The commander is correct. Many dangers await all who take this journey. The Prince shall many times depend on ye for his safety."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pluck hugged her again and then ran out.

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

Breakneck and Waterswift

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The cloak shadowed her outraged face. Surely this wasn't her teacher speaking. Maybe this was a test.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The latter," Sinew answered, stroking his long mustache. "Why hold back?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Port of Pass

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pluck."

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

* * *

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

"How do we fare?" Edward asked.

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

"Have any enemy ships been spotted?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She handed him the scabbard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pluck held her breath. They couldn't kill him. She had to save him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fass! Don't know."

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

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

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

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

Matt uttered, "What are you?"

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

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

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

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

Melee and Pluck quickly surrounded the Prince.

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

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

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

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

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

He and the Prince headed for the horses as Pluck stared at the Cobalt Oak. She didn't think he was a Necrom. He didn't have the appearance of the cat-like creatures. No, he looked human. The warlock didn't look like her at all, but he did use magic. Being a wielder of the dark arts, could he know what she was? This assumption frightened her. What if he told the others before she had a chance to? Her lips quivered in the shadow of her hood. What if the others cast her out? She bit her lip, watching the Prince as she muttered, "What if Edward forsakes me?"
Chapter Five

The Initiation

Han paced the deck of the Breakneck as he shouted, "Fass! I should have sent more men with you." He glanced at the Prince and then to Melee and Pluck as the ocean lapped at the docked ship and a few Gray Gulls cried in the distance. "You should have my command for this."

"Nonsense," Edward replied. "Consider this, if we had taken more men the bandits might have waited for another opportunity, and then we would not know one of the Kingdoms is using a Necrom."

"Fairy tales!" Fracas declared, overhearing their conversation from the gangplank. "There's no such thing."

"Yes, but..." Han started as he grabbed the railing of the ship and looked at the port of Pass. "They did see the beggar vanish. Perhaps there's sorcery at work and since magic exists, then Necroms could also."

Fracas shook his head in disbelief and threw his Jewel Apple over the side before he said, "I still say they are merely stories; ones told to frighten children into staying out of the woods." He considered that magic may exist, but the Necroms couldn't. If they did, that would mean the old stories were true and that would mean there could be another Great War. His reasoning frightened him as he considered this time they might not escape with their lives if another war ensued.

Edward put his hand to his chin as he spoke, "Whoever is using the dark arts does not want us to know. They killed the bandits' leader to prevent him from revealing their identity, and what I saw was no beast but a man. We all have heard that Necroms are cat-like monsters."

"Still..." Han started as he couldn't get past his failure. "I shouldn't have let you go with only two guards."

Edward put his hand on the old High Guard's shoulder as he told him, "Han, I was in capable hands with Melee and Pluck."

"Actually," Melee spoke up. "Pluck's the one who saved us with that enchanted sword of his."

"Enchanted?" Han approached her and questioned, "What's he talking about?"

A salty breeze swept across the ship, blowing against Pluck's cloak as she shamefully thought more of the Accolade Sword. "My rapier broke during battle," she told him as she showed him the severed blade. "I've been dishonored."

"To have the blade break during a fight is no dishonor," Han said as he took the weapon. "Only if it's stripped." He turned to Ardor and ordered, "We shall give you another."

"He does not need it," Edward said, talking of Pluck. "The weapon he acquired from the trader is far more superior, therefore, a Sword of Honor."

"I saw it strike like lightning," Melee added. "It cut through the bandits' weapons like a sickle through grass."

"What weapon?" Han asked.

Pluck unstrapped the sword from her back and showed him. Han took the black scabbard, looked the weapon over, and tried to remove the sword as Ardor watched.

"Blasted!" Han yelled as his face reddened with the effort. "It won't budge."

"Allow me," Ardor said, and then he tried. "Crell! I also can't draw the blade." Frustrated, he handed it to Pluck and ordered, "You do it!"

She hesitated, but then took the Lux, and drew it. The unsheathing sounded like thunder, and the blade glowed lightning white.

"Witchcraft!" Ardor spat as he stepped back from the crackling blade. "We should toss him and the weapon overboard." He drew his rapier, wondering if the sword was a weapon of the Necroms.

Captain Brine and a few sailors murmured their agreement, and then Brine said, "Aye, evil shall befall this ship if we allow the sword to stay."

Their accusation appalled Pluck, and she readied herself for a fight.

Before Han could challenge Ardor, the Prince commanded, "No!" His face reddened with rage as he said, "I would be in the hands of my enemy if it was not for Pluck's sword." He stepped to the taller man and questioned him, "Are you saying we should throw over everyone who possesses an item of magic?"

"Yes!" Ardor answered without thinking.

Han cringed, not knowing how the Prince would react.

"Then I should be first to walk the plank," Edward spoke as he pointed toward the cabins. "Do not forget I possess the Mystic Rose."

Ardor's enraged face softened to shock and embarrassment as he started, "My lord, I did not mean–"

"Let us drop this matter then," the Prince interrupted.

Ardor tightened his jaw as he sheathed his rapier, and then he said, "The matter is dropped." He glanced at Pluck with a look that said he would only drop it for the moment.

Han walked to Pluck, leaned to her hood, and said, "Maybe it's best you leave and let Ardor manage his temper."

She nodded, placed her sword back in its scabbard, and headed below. Ardor disliked her since she came on board. She didn't understand why he hated her or what she had done to bring about such disdain.

Back on deck...

"What should our next move be?" Han asked, moved to Ardor, and patted the Second on the back, reassuring him.

Ardor remained silent, managing his temper and his tongue. What a fool he was? Him accusing the Prince could cost Ardor his command.

Edward walked to the railing and answered the commander, "The only thing we can do for now is–" He scanned the open sea and said, "–set sail for the Morgog Kingdom, retrieve my wife, and head for the Isle of Kismet."

* * *

Earlier that sun's cycle...

Fracas stood, grabbed his longbow from the tavern's table, and said, "Sinew... Parry... It's time we left," he insisted. "We must return to the Breakneck."

Parry grabbed a barmaid, whirled her around, sat her on his lap, and replied, "A few moments more, my friend." He twirled his finger in her long brown hair and whispered into her ear.

She giggled, stroked his blond goatee, and told him, "I can't till mi shift's over."

Sinew smoothed his hand over his shaven head and lifted his mug as he barked, "Another!"

"No! You're already drunk," Fracas told him as he swung his bow, knocking the mug from the smaller man's grasp. "Let's go while you can still walk."

"I'm not drunk," Sinew insisted, swaying on the bench, and then he stared at his throbbing knuckles. "Phraggs! That hurt!"

Fracas threw up his hands and uttered, "Fine!" He stomped to the exit, paused, and looked back to see if his two friends were watching. They weren't so he stepped outside. He would show them. Fracas cleared his throat and shouted, "High Guards! To arms!"

Parry stood, dumping the barmaid to the floor, drew his sword, searched the tavern, and asked, "Where's my blade needed?"

Sinew barely got to his feet and slurred, "I have your back." He twisted his thin black mustache, reached for his weapon, and fell drunk to the floor.

"Get up!" Parry shouted. "Our enemy is upon us!" He nudged the smaller man with his foot as he yelled, "Get up!"

Sinew moaned, rolled over, and started snoring.

Fracas walked back into the tavern, laughing and said, "You're the elite of the High Guards? It's a wonder the Fletching Kingdom hasn't fallen."

Parry's eyes flashed with rage as he exclaimed, "What the Crell?" He charged the bowman ready to strike and shouted, "Why you dirty Borough Rat!"

"Now old friend..." Fracas started and then fled, running around the tavern with an ox of a man pursuing him. "I was trying to prove my point."

Parry finally cornered him and then asked, "Do you think this was funny?"

Fracas took a moment, considering his answer and replied, "Yes."

Parry raised his sword as a grin appeared on his face, and then he said, "You're right." He lowered the rapier and told him, "Come, my friend, let's get Sinew and return to the Breakneck. There shall be time for women another sun's cycle."

* * *

At the docks, Parry dunked Sinew's head into a rain barrel several times.

"Enough!" Sinew yelled as he freed himself from the blond man's grip as water dripped from him. "I'm sober."

"Perhaps. Stand on one foot and touch your nose."

Sinew tried but couldn't, and then he questioned, "What does that prove? I couldn't do that even when I was sober."

Parry laughed, and then he said, "I wanted to see if you would try."

Sinew punched his arm as he grumbled, "Blond Ox, why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

He laughed some more, and then he replied, "If I did that, I'd have no one to pick on."

Fracas bought a Jewel Apple from a peddler, bit into the amber fruit, and stated, "Look the Prince has returned."

He continued up the docks, boarding the ship. Parry and Sinew bought Sun Oranges from the peddler.

"What do you think is going on?" Sinew asked as he motioned to the Breakneck with his orange. "The discussion seems heated."

Parry shaded his eyes from the high sun and then answered, "Perhaps something has happened." He finished peeling his fruit, took a bite of the juicy yellow flesh, and then said, "Look... Ardor and Pluck have drawn their weapons. Could Pluck have challenged his position?"

Sinew squinted and twisted his mustache as he spoke, "Perhaps... But then the Prince would not step in." He finished his orange and started peeling another. "Now Pluck is heading below. That was most odd."

"Is Pluck on duty tonight?" Parry asked with a hint of mischief in his blue eyes.

"No. Why?" Sinew questioned, and then he recognized the look on his friend's face. "What trouble are you planning?"

An expression of devilment appeared on the large man's face as he replied, "We have yet to initiate this High Guard from the North. Tonight we shall use the Night Prowlers Raid."

* * *

Parry, Sinew, and Fracas snuck below deck. Parry carried a large potato sack meant to throw over Pluck.

"This is Han's cabin," Parry whispered.

"Are you sure Han and Ardor aren't within?" Fracas asked as he scanned the corridor and stroked his pointed red beard.

"Yes, we don't want to be caught," Sinew spoke up.

"I am sure," Parry answered. "Do you two know what you must do?"

"I watch the hall," Fracas said, turned, and leaned against the wall.

"I grab Pluck's legs after you throw the sack over him," Sinew spoke as he put his hand on Parry's back ready to rush in.

Bulwark walked by, and they froze till he went up on deck. The older High Guard mumbled, "Up to no good again?"

They didn't answer, holding their breaths as if it would make them invisible. The door shut behind Bulwark, and they exhaled.

"Where were we?" Fracas asked, checking to make sure no one else approached.

"Ready to rush in, so go, Parry," Sinew said as he ribbed him.

"Hey watch it, little man," Parry threatened with a whisper. "Now once we have Pluck, we shall sneak him up on deck and tie him to a mast."

"And if he doesn't go quietly?" Fracas asked.

Parry made a fist and answered, "A little knock on the head shouldn't hurt him."

They rushed into Han's room.

A few mites earlier...

Pluck slept in the upper bunk till she heard three men talking in the hall. They whispered but with her keen senses, she heard their conversation.

"They want to snatch me, huh?" Pluck muttered to herself as she grabbed her cloak, threw it on, and quietly climbed down to the floor. The cabin was pitch dark but that didn't hinder her sight. Pluck found her boots and gloves and searched the locker at the foot of the bunk. What kind of game were they playing? She found rope underneath the bunks. Maybe one she could turn on them. Pluck scurried into the rafters ready to pounce as her tail twitched with excitement underneath her cloak.

Parry crept in along with Sinew who held a lantern. He motioned for the smaller man to go to the end of the upper bunk. On his signal, both men grabbed for Pluck, but she wasn't there.

"Where is he?" Sinew asked, searching the cabin with his light.

"I am here," Pluck answered.

Sinew lifted the lantern as she leaped upon them. Both men screamed.

The next morning...

Bulwark walked up on deck, starting his rounds when something caught his eye. Fracas, Sinew, and Parry were gagged and tied to a mast. He walked to them and stated, "I see the Initiation did not go to your liking."

The three men yelled at him through their gags.

"I am sorry, but I don't understand you," he told them and then looked around. "As much as I would like to stay and chat, I have rounds to walk." The three men yelled after him as Bulwark left, and he told them, "You should be thankful Pluck didn't strip you naked and hang you upside down." He added, "I would have."
Chapter Six

Memories

Breakneck left the Port of Pass, setting sail for the Morgog Kingdom. Everyone was uneasy with magic on the wind, and no one dared mention Necroms or the dark arts. It was well into the third sun's cycle as the ships pushed along at a good speed. Pluck followed the Prince to his cabin, noticed Bulwark posted outside, and wondered why the old High Guard was guarding the Prince's room. Edward went into his cabin, and Pluck stopped in the hall. A yellow glow caught her eye, and she noticed it wasn't from lamps for none lit the room. In the middle of the cabin hung a glass-domed case and within it, the Mystic Rose hovered as white sparkles swirled around it. It was the Rose. Two feelings wrestled with her heart. One was of hope that her curse would be ended, and the other was of dread that she would remain in her enchanted form.

The magic bloom called to her, so Pluck stepped into the Prince's room and hesitated, remembering her place. Bulwark glanced at her, wondering what the Northern High Guard was doing.

Edward noticed the High Guard's curiosity and told Pluck, "It is fine. Come in and see. Close the door behind you," Edward ordered as he flopped on his bed, unbuckled his sword frog, and let the belt and scabbard drop to the floor. Weariness covered his face as he loosened his gold silk sash.

Pluck, drawn by the Rose, walked to the glass dome. The container swayed with the motion of the ship, but the movement of the case didn't affect the Rose's levitation. The Rose stayed suspended in its housing as sparkles spiraled around the Rose. Her heart pounded like an infantry drum the closer she drew. All the emotions concerning her curse and the redemption she desired, overwhelmed Pluck and watered her eyes.

The Rose's yellow petals transformed to blue, casting an azure glow, and the Prince noticed the flower's hue change and said, "I do not know why the Mystic Rose alters colors." Edward stared at the Rose as he continued, "I had it brought here from the ship's hold. It was under guard there. I thought it might be safer hidden but..." He sighed again and added, "I have grown so accustomed to its presence, I cannot sleep unless the Rose is in the room. I think it has bewitched me."

The power tugging her toward the Rose grew stronger, enchanting her. She raised her gloved hand toward the case as if to clasp the flower. Her tattooed finger throbbed as the Rose pulsed with magical energy. This rhythmic vim hit the glass-domed case, shaking it with charged electrical force. She turned her back to the Prince and removed her glove, seeing her tattoo. The four black rings on her bare finger glowed silver as the Rose's blue petals transformed to platinum, increasing its throbbing tempo. A surge of energy shot from the Rose like a ball of lightning. The power cracked the glass and shattered it, releasing the energy into the room and filled the cabin with crackling electricity. Pluck covered her eyes as glass flew, and then she stepped back, frightened by the surge. The more she retreated the less the Rose pulsed and soon the electrical ball faded, returning the cabin to a dark room cast in an azure glow. Pluck looked at the silver rings, remembering the last thing Fairah told her.

"These marks on ye's finger, they are more than tattoos. They are ye's connection to the Mystic Rose. It chose ye, remember that."

Edward sat up as the container shattered and exclaimed, "By Fletching!" He neared the Rose and turned to Pluck as his brow wrinkled with bewilderment as he questioned, "What did you do?"

The glass that had scattered about the room, glowed and lifted and gathered around the Rose. Each shard found its place, piecing together the dome till it reformed. A bright light shot from the container, and the glow faded. The glass magically became whole again as if it had never been broken.

Edward couldn't believe his eyes as he looked back to Pluck. He saw the furry top of her hand and the glowing markings on her bare finger as they returned to black. He grabbed her hand and his touch startled her, so she pulled away.

"That tattoo..." he started as he pointed at her finger. "I remember those markings." Terrible memories flooded his mind as he grabbed his head and said, "I was a boy... I went into this Temple and found the Mystic Rose. I was not alone. A girl was with me and her name..." His blue eyes widened with realization as he uttered, "Her name was Pluck!" He stepped back, accusing, "You are a woman!"

She raised her hand, trying to quiet him as she spoke softly, "Please my lord, lower your voice."

"But how can you be a High Guard?" Edward yelled as he shook his head. "Women are not allowed!"

"My Prince, is everything all right?" Bulwark asked from the corridor.

"Yes! You are not needed!" Edward yelled, and then he scolded Pluck, "Women cannot possess weapons. It is forbidden. You shall go in front of the Inquiry." He paced the room and said, "I do not understand how Han could have allowed such a thing." A new memory interrupted his thoughts, so he glanced at her furry hand and spoke, "Something else happened that sun's cycle in the Temple." He noticed her fingers had no nails and grabbed her hand, examining her thumb; it and her other fingers had a slit down the middle like a cat. "A memory I had forgotten." He pushed the flap of skin aside and found a claw and then appalled by his findings, he released her and uttered, "Something horrible. A witch... She cast a spell intended for me but..." He couldn't finish the sentence so plagued by a past he had forgotten.

The more he berated her, the more Pluck grew angry, and she finally yelled at him, "You're still an ungrateful spoiled brat!" She tapped her chest as she said, "I pushed you out of the way. I protected you!"

He fell silent. Never had anyone yelled at him in such a way especially a woman and in a calmer tone, he said, "Yes, I remember." The incident he had buried long ago surfaced, and he spoke, "You saved me by taking my place." His face softened as he added, "You were turned into a hideous monster."

Pluck said nothing; she needed no reminder.

His shame turned to anger as he shouted, "You are not deformed! You are cursed!" It didn't matter to him that she took his place. He was the Prince and she was a peasant. "That is why you cannot show your face."

Pluck nodded. He knew her secret, and now her life depended on what he would do with it.

He had to see, so Edward commanded, "Show me your face."

She hesitated, fearing how he would react once he saw her again.

"Shall I order Bulwark in here to do it for you?"

He was nothing like she remembered; Edward was cruel.

"There's no need, my lord," Pluck told him as her fear turned to terror, and then she pulled back her hood.

Edward gasped, "By Fletching! You are a beast! A Necrom!" Another fact frightened him. The Prince had seen this creature with short beige fur before, so he pointed his finger and accused her, "Fass! You are the hideous monster from my dream. You... you are the one slaughtering the men." Terror paled his face as he shouted, "You are the reaper of my nightmares!" He stumbled back to his bed and exclaimed, "You have come to take me!"

Pluck just stood there; she didn't know what to say or do. The moment hadn't gone like she envisioned. Edward wasn't grateful for her sacrifice. Her fears had come true, he rejected her, and now there was no way she could ever ask him for the Kiss. Pluck pulled her hood up to cover her shame and wondered where she could hide. She didn't know; she just had to get out of his presence.

She said, "My lord, I will await my arrest at the bow." She left, trying not to run as she bit her lip to fight back tears.

Edward didn't know how to react as he rushed into the hall and then watched her leave. What he had seen in the cabin wasn't a vicious monster but a creature wounded by his words.

"Is there a problem, my lord?" Bulwark asked as Melee arrived.

Edward didn't answer him only stated, "I need to speak with Han."

* * *

"I still do not understand why you trained her to become a High Guard!" Edward yelled as he paced Han's cabin. "Fass! Do you know the fine even for a man of your status?"

"Yes, I do," Han replied as he picked up a small wooden chest, placed it on his bed, and opened the box. "Fifty pieces of gold. It took me ten seasons to collect these wages."

Edward looked at the payment and then to Han as he exclaimed, "You knew all along she would be caught?"

"Pluck being a woman isn't what we were hiding," Han told him as he searched the Prince's face. "What should I have done? Abandon her at the Temple? Never. Do you realize the curse she has endured for protecting you?" Han carefully considered his next words, and then he said, "You see, I thought the others would accept her as a High Guard even after finding out she is a beast. What other position could she have in this world as a Necrom?"

Edward's face flushed with anger as he questioned, "Why did you never tell me?"

"You had forgotten her and the witch," Han explained as he walked to a small cabinet and poured them a mug of wine. "I thought it best not to bring them up till you were ready."

Aggravated by the whole thing, Edward raked his hand through his shoulder-length raven-black hair and then asked, "Now what would you have me do?"

"You are the Prince and soon to be Emperor... What can you not do?"

Edward took the mug and downed the wine.

"I do not mean for you to feel guilty, but she's the way she is because of you," Han spoke as he offered the Prince more. "You at least owe Pluck her life and the freedom to live it."

Edward lifted his mug, and the High Guard poured him more, and then Edward said, "Perhaps, but I still feel she wants something from me." He shivered before he continued, "There is something about the way she looks at me."

Han nodded, took another drink, and stated, "She does. There's a way to end her curse, but she hasn't told me. All I know is that it involves you. She wants to end her misery." He set down the mug and asked, "What have you decided, my lord?"

Edward drank half of his bitter wine and replied, "She may remain free, but I do not want her as my personal guard."

Han knew that would resolve nothing, so he told him, "It might be best that she does remain. Her abilities are exceptional, she does possess the Lux and with an unknown enemy after you, she should remain by your side."

"Phraggs!" Edward uttered and reluctantly answered, "Fine!"

"What shall you tell the men, my lord?"

Edward answered, "Nothing for now. Pluck may keep her secret till she feels she can reveal it."
Chapter Seven

The Fourth Sun's Cycle At Sea

Nearly a zoc away from Breakneck and Waterswift, a storm approached and darkened the sky. Lightning streaked across the horizon like the silent claws of a Desert Eagle. The bolts lit up the distant sea as Pluck stood at the bow, watching the flashes. She stared at her bare fingers for a while before slipping on her glove as she wondered what they would do to her. The wind pushed her hood off, sweeping through her fiery-crimson mane as waves crashed against the bow, spraying mist. She shivered in the cool salty air as she muttered, "I could throw myself into the sea and save everyone the trouble. No... I'm not one to give up. If they want me..." She grabbed the strap that held the Lux's scabbard to her back and declared, "They'll have to take me."

Her cat ears twitched back as she heard them come, and she prepared herself for a fight. The Prince approached with Melee, so she pulled her hood on as her heart sank. Pluck reached for her hilt and saw Han behind them and knew with him there they wouldn't kill her, so she lowered her hand. The worse they would do was throw her in the brig.

Edward stopped just short of her, put his hands behind his back, looked down at her, and said, "I have considered your situation..."

Her heart sped. What about her situation? She glanced at the Prince's bodyguard.

Melee looked puzzled like he wasn't sure why they were there. Han remained silent, but his face reassured her everything would be fine.

"I... No, Han..." Edward spoke awkwardly. "Han has convinced me to keep you as my personal guard against my better judgment." He diverted his gaze, unsure if he was making the right decision as he continued, "We shall see how things go." He started to head back and added, "Thank you." Edward didn't face her, and his voice sounded strained like he had to force himself to speak as he said, "I thank you for your protection on Pass Island and in the Temple long ago. A debt I hope to repay one sun's cycle."

There was a moment of silence, and then he took a deep breath as if to continue, but he didn't. He walked off, setting for his cabin. Melee followed even more confused.

She looked at Han. Silence found her again, except for the waves hitting the ship and the wind whipping their garments. Relieved she still had her life and her freedom, Pluck sighed, feeling ashamed of what she was.

"Not what you hoped for I imagine, but it's a beginning," Han told her as he walked to Pluck, putting his hand on her shoulder. "There's so much for Edward to accept."

She muttered, "As you said, it's a beginning."

"Come," Han told her as he scanned the sea. "The storm shall be here soon."

* * *

The storm gave way to a clear morning as seagulls once again filled the sky, indicating they neared land. A sailor in the crow's nest scanned the ocean, spotting a vessel in the distance.

"A ship!" he yelled as he pointed off starboard.

Captain Brine asked for his telescope.

Fracas, Sinew, and Parry walked up on deck, hearing the alarm and squinted in the daylight.

"Is it a merchantman or a warship?" Fracas questioned as he stroked his pointed red beard.

"A warship by what I can tell," Brine answered the Archer. "She's flying one of the Kingdom's flags."

"Which one?" Sinew asked, feeling tension sweep over the crew as he wiped sweat from his shaven head.

"I can't make it out. Wait..." Brine said as he strained to see. "I see a Roaring Black Lion."

The three High Guards felt relieved as Han came on deck with a few of his men.

"I heard we spotted a ship."

"Yes," Sinew answered, twisting his long mustache. "She's flying Morgog's flag."

"So they've sent a ship to escort us to port," Han stated as he scratched his gray beard. "I wonder if there's been an attempt to abduct Princess Virago."

"If not, there's sure to be one," Fracas spoke as he adjusted the quiver on his shoulder. "We should warn them."

"Yes..." Ardor said as he joined them on deck. "We should meet with the Princess' advisor and commander of her guards as soon as possible."

The ship named Dark Monarch turned and followed the Fletchings toward port. The High Guards on Breakneck stood along the starboard, swapping glares with the Sentinels who were Morgog's royal army.

"This shall be an unstable alliance," Fracas stated as he leaned on his longbow. "Even with the marriage, there shall be strife. There's too much blood between us."

"Aye," an old sailor agreed. "They sank the Sea Wind in the battle of Coral Point, during the last rush to crown an Emperor. My brother went down with her." He spat on the deck as he cursed, "Foul scalawags, I'll never trust 'em."

Parry cracked his massive knuckles as he added, "I'm up to giving the scamps a good thrashing."

"There shall be no trouble from our side," Han warned, eyeing each of them especially the Blond Ox. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, commander," the High Guards replied.

As Han walked off, Parry whispered, "We shall not start it, but we shall end it."

* * *

Pluck carried a tray of cheese, bread, oranges, and wine to the Prince's cabin. Melee and Von stood without. She knocked and entered at Edward's command.

"Here's your meal, my lord," Pluck stated as she noticed the Mystic Rose still cast an azure glow. She thought it was best if she stayed far away from the flower. Pluck set the tray in front of the Prince.

"I am not hungry. Take the food away," Edward ordered as he dipped a quill in an inkwell and wrote on a parchment. The high sun shone in from an open window behind him.

"I'll leave it in case you get hungry, my lord," Pluck said as she stepped from his desk and folded her arms behind her back.

He looked up from his work and said in a stern tone, "I said take it away. Do not make me regret my decision to let you remain as my personal guard."

She nodded, picked up the tray, and wondered how she could ask him.

Edward continued writing, looked at her again, and questioned, "Why are you still here?"

Pluck stared at the Sun Oranges as she started, "I was wondering..."

He tightened his jaw, annoyed by the disruption to his writing. He had till they docked to finish his work, and he never would with her staring at him. Edward asked, "What were you wondering?"

She hesitated and then answered, "Do you remember the time when your cousins came to the castle for a visit?"

He stared at his work as he replied, "Yes, why do you ask?"

"Remember how they treated me? How they teased me and pinched my arm till I cried?"

Edward's thoughts drifted back to that time. The girl, what Pluck was known as before Han named her, had just arrived at the castle. She was six and he eight. He didn't think much of the peasant with brown hair and brown eyes and wasn't sure why his mother the Queen sent for her.

"Why did you pick a girl to be my playmate and a toddler at that?" he demanded, turned from his mother, and pouted. "I am nearly a man, I should have men to play with not–"

"She shall be a loyal friend," Queen Jezebel informed him as she nudged the girl closer to him. "And she shall keep you out of trouble. A Prince should not get into trouble; it is not befitting your crown." She left the girl and walked to him, turning Edward to face her as she told him, "The girl is so desperate for love. She shall give you her heart, and you need do nothing for it."

He looked into his mother's blue eyes as he said, "But she is a peasant."

"Yes, and you must always remember that and remind her," Jezebel instructed. "She is well versed in games, and she shall attend lessons with you." The Queen lifted his chin and said to him, "My son, give her some time, if you still do not wish to have her, then I shall send her back."

He told his mother, "I shall give her a chance."

Sun's cycles then weeks went by, and Edward grew to like having the girl around to play games and go on adventures. One of his favorites was saving the damsel from the dragon, of course, the girl had to play both the maiden and the monster. As summer grew to an end, his cousins from his mother's side came to visit. The first sun's cycle was exciting. They played High Guards and the girl was a Necrom the feared monster of magic. All was fun and laughter till his cousins knocked the girl to the ground and started pinching her arms.

"We have the Necrom now," Philip the elder of the two declared.

"Yes, now the monster must pay for all its evil crimes," Andrew added.

"Stop it!" she pleaded. "Don't hurt me!" She looked at the Prince and called for him, "Edward, help me!"

"Silence your pleas, peasant. The Prince shall not come to your aid," Philip told her as he continued to pinch her as red marks appeared on her arms. "Royal blood does not flow through your veins."

"Yes, quiet your crying," Andrew added as he kicked dirt on her. "You should learn your life is worthless."

Tears ran down her face as she looked at the Prince.

Edward stood, clenching his wooden sword, not understanding the feelings affecting his body. Why didn't he join in with them? Why did his face burn? The Prince realized he felt outraged and clenched his teeth, remembering something he heard Han tell his men. Edward lifted his sword and charged the cousins, shouting, "Are we not honorable men?"

He caught them off guard and pushed them to the ground. The cousins looked up at him stunned.

Edward pointed his sword at them and told them, "High Guards do all things to glorify the Creator. We pledge loyalty to the crown. We swear to protect the Fletching people and property. And above all, we forfeit our lives for the Royal Family." He glared at them as he declared, "You shall not hurt any of my people!"

The cousins whimpered.

"We did not realize you liked her," they declared. "Please," they cowered. "Let us make our apologies."

Edward nodded, and the cousins helped the girl to her feet and brushed dirt from her plain dress.

That sun's cycle, Pluck saw Edward anew. She fell in love with him. He had saved her. Pluck continued to hold the tray of food as she wondered if he would save her now from her curse.

Edward thought of that time differently. It was a moment of weakness, a childish whim, and an action he didn't wish to remember. The Prince laid his quill down and started, "Yes, I remember that sun's cycle. What of it?"

"That was the first sun's cycle I realized I..." She couldn't say it, not love... not to him, so she told him, "I gained a new respect for you." Her ears twitched forward under her hood and her feline eyes narrowed. "I wanted you to know you'll always have my loyalty."

"As I should. You are a High Guard, my vassal," he told her as he picked up the quill and dipped it in the well. "Now please take the food away."

A shadow cast into the room as Edward set his quill to the parchment. He heard Pluck growl and saw her face wrinkle with rage in the darkness of her hood. She lifted the tray, throwing the food across the room.

"Insolent wench!" Edward uttered as he stood, slamming his hands on the desk. "What do you think–"

She rushed around the desk, pushing him aside as she yelled, "To arms!" She forced him to a side wall as she covered the Prince with her body.

Melee and Von rushed in swords drawn.

"What are you doing?" Edward demanded, feeling her warm body pressed against his. She smelled of the forest and of leather.

"Remain, my lord," Pluck ordered.

Melee rushed to the window as Von ran up to the deck.

"He's gone," Melee told them.

Pluck moved from the Prince as she told Melee, "We can't let him jump ship." She set the tray on the desk as she added, "But first, we must get the Prince to a secure room."

"Agreed," Melee said as he headed for the hall. "Han's has no windows."

Edward moved to the middle of the room as he questioned, "Who is gone? And why can we not let him escape?" He glanced at the table, saw the tray with an arrow embedded in it, and noticed a rope dangling outside the window, and then he questioned, "What happened?"

"There was an attempt on your life, my lord," Pluck told him as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. "We must get you into a secure room till the assassin's caught."

Her hand was also warm and held his firm and for some reason, he felt safe with her. She and Melee took Edward to Han's cabin and waited. Soon a knock came to the door.

"Who is it?" Melee demanded.

"Ardor, it is safe. We caught the attacker."

Melee looked at Pluck, she nodded, and he opened the door.

Ardor stepped in and said, "Come, my lord. He's on deck."

On deck, many High Guards surrounded the bound man.

Edward examined the man but didn't recognize him. Many soldiers served in his army. He asked, "Who is he?"

"One of Fracas' Archers," Ardor answered.

"One of our own?" Edward uttered, surprised.

"Perhaps a spy planted long ago," Han said as he shook his head, disgusted, and addressed the prisoner, "Are there more among us?"

The traitor didn't answer.

"Who do you work for?" Edward demanded.

The man replied, "The one you suspect the least and that's all you'll get out of me, Fletching mongrel."

Ardor raised his hand to strike the man.

"No, take him below," Edward ordered. "We shall get nothing from him. We shall have the Morgog's deal with him once we land."
Chapter Eight

Princess Virago

"Princess, please come out," a fair-haired Lady Flaxen beckoned. "Prince Edward shall be here soon. Please, we must dress you for the ceremony."

"No!" Virago screamed as she remained in her locked room, stroking her long ebony hair. She wore a flame-colored dress. "I do not wish to marry the Cretin of Fletching."

"You do not know if he is a clod," Flaxen said as she bit her lip in desperation. Her hair was pulled back in long braids. "I heard he is handsome."

The Princess' room lay in shambles from an earlier tantrum. Dresses, jewelry, combs, brushes, and other small objects laid scattered about. Virago said, "I have had enough of people telling me what I am to do." She sat in the middle of the floor, clinging to her bedpost, face wet with tears as she yelled, "You are my lady in waiting... so wait!"

The thin man, standing behind Flaxen, moved to the door and beckoned to her, "Dear Princess, please..." Lord Caliber leaned on his staff with an engraved wolf-head as he said, "Your kingdom is depending on you. Think of all the wealth and power you shall gain when you have the authority to make laws and judge the Five Kingdoms."

Virago didn't answer.

Lord Caliber massaged his temple and tried again, telling her, "Your father, King Elan arranged this marriage long ago. You shall dishonor him if you do not follow through." He glanced at Flaxen, straightened his red robe's gray-black fur trim, faced the door, and asked, "What about your mother?"

"Leave her out of this," Virago demanded. "Why can you not leave the dead alone?"

Flaxen put a hand on the thin man's shoulder, shook her head, and told him, "That is not the way. For the Princess' Advisor, you are wise in many things, but you do not know how to deal with matters of the heart." She smoothed her hand down her fiery yellow dress, bit her lip thinking, and said, "There is only one thing that may lure her out, but I do not know if it shall work."

"Try it," Lord Caliber urged as he stroked his long inky-black goatee. "The navy is escorting the Prince's ships into port. We do not have much time."

Flaxen cleared her throat, praying to the Creator that this would work and said, "Edward shall have presents."

"Presents?" Virago repeated as she perked up, moving to her door, leaned on its frame, and raked her ebony bangs from her blue eyes.

"Yes, many and costly."

Lord Caliber jumped at the opportunity and added, "Edward shall surely turn back if he hears you have called off the wedding. He shall take all his presents with him."

"No presents," Virago said, thought about it, then unlocked her door, and ordered, "Do not just stand there, dress me." She wiped her eyes and blew her nose on the handkerchief Flaxen offered as she said, "We do not want to keep my husband waiting."

* * *

Breakneck and Waterswift docked at Stalwart Port while the Dark Monarch anchored in the bay. The Prince with Han, Ardor, Melee, Pluck, Fracas, Sinew, and Parry unloaded their horses and rode to the castle with a Morgog escort while the rest of the High Guards stayed on the ships.

"I've never seen a Sentinel before today," Fracas admitted. "Look at the black leather armor they wear. It must be hot and heavy."

"They say their armor's hardened by the Fires of Morgog," Sinew said. "That the capitol's centered around these fire geysers and since the foundation of the Kingdom, the flames have yet to cease their blazing."

Parry laughed and then spoke, "They also say their armor is the strongest in the world." He tapped the top of his silver hilt as he said, "I have yet to see armor my blade couldn't penetrate."

They rode past a Sentinel sharpening his sword.

"Interesting piece of weaponry, isn't it?" Sinew asked as he pointed to the large sword with a wavy blade. "It's a Flamberge; it was first created to cut down cavalry and also boasted to be hardened by the Fires of Morgog."

Parry glanced at the large sword as he spoke, "Impressive yes, but heavy and slow in battle. What else do we know about them?"

"Their royal army the Sentinels consist of three groups; Bowman, Footsoldiers, and Cavalry," Fracas replied. "I would enjoy pitting my Archers against their Bowmen in a shooting contest."

Parry flexed his massive biceps as he said, "I wouldn't mind wrestling with a few of them."

Four Sentinels glared at them.

"Move along," Han commanded, and then he added, warning them, "Quietly."

* * *

The Princess stood along with her lady in the center of the Capital. Virago wore her red flare colored wedding dress as the Fires of Morgog erupted around them, illuminating the sandstone canyon. A distance behind them, the Morgog Castle stood and in front of the castle, the Great Cathedral stood. Virago stared at the flaming geysers in front of her.

The lady had been quiet a long time, letting her Princess deal with whatever matters needed to be dealt with, and Flaxen said finally, "It is time."

The Princess closed her eyes, opened them, and spoke, "I am ready. This was the last place I wanted to see before we left Morgog. I wanted to burn the images of my homeland into my mind. I do not ever want to forget them."

"Princess, you can return someday."

Virago questioned, "Why do I fear I shall not?"

Lord Caliber entered, walking down the cobblestone path as his wolf-head staff clinked across the hard surface. He looked at the flaming geysers as he stated, "I knew you would be here."

Irritated her remembering was interrupted, she asked, "Did my father send you?"

"No, King Elan did not. Actually, I wanted to talk to you before the ceremony," he replied as he shifted the staff to his other hand and placed his palm on the Princess' shoulder. "A great responsibility has been given to you. For so long, Morgog has fallen from grace; it has fallen from the power it should hold. We need to return it to its Golden Age."

"I understand my responsibilities; I also know what I am giving up," she said and then walked away from the lord. "What I do not know is what I am placing myself into? Our people have always been an enemy of the Fletchings and now we are forming an alliance. This was thrown together in such great haste. I believe there shall be power struggles from both sides. For one, who shall be in charge of the army? We have our Commander Avarice, and they have theirs."

"I understand how you feel about the Fletchings. They are not our equals, but your father has made up his mind and as for the rest of your questions, do not fret over them," he said as he winked at her. "They shall work themselves out." Lord Caliber turned and left where he came in as he spoke to her, "Come, your wedding is about to begin."

Flaxen walked up beside the Princess and told her, "I feel so uneasy around him. Do not get me wrong, he is a very good advisor."

Virago watched the lord as he left, and she said, "I think you worry too much."

* * *

Within a nal, Edward and his escort arrived at the Capital and were led to the Great Cathedral. There Princess Virago dressed in her red flare wedding gown waited before a priest. Flutes played a flowing melody as the Fletchings entered.

"I have never seen a wedding so hurried," Ardor commented as fiery yellow robes were given to each of them.

"Do you think any of the other Kingdoms are waiting for a courtship to bloom before their marriages?" Han asked.

Ardor shook his head.

Pluck watched the Prince as his face paled and heard with her keen ears his breathing and heartbeat increase.

Edward looked ahead, saw the priest and the veiled woman, and questioned, "Is that her?" He swallowed hard, but it didn't faze his dry mouth. "I could use some wine." The more he thought about his wedding, the sicker he got. Many things rampaged through his mind; he wondered what she looked like and why she was wearing a veil. He considered she was hideous, and then a more horrifying thought crossed his mind. What if she looked like Pluck? He repeated, "I could use some wine."

"Not now, my lord," Han said as the group moved forward in a wedding march in sync with the flute music. "There shall be plenty of time for wine later."

Edward rubbed his hands as he whispered, "I cannot see her." He asked, "What does the Princess look like?"

"Quiet," Han commanded. "Now is not the time."

"I feel ill," Edward said as he stopped and held his stomach.

A few people seated in the pews murmured.

Han nodded to Ardor, and then each of them grabbed the Prince's arm as Han said, "The ceremony shall be over soon, my lord."

They moved forward, and Edward's knees weakened the closer they walked to the priest.

Princess Virago glanced at Lady Flaxen, and then Virago whispered, "He is handsome, but he is so pale looking. Are you sure he shall have many presents?"

"Yes, my lady," Flaxen replied as she looked over the Prince and giggled. "I believe he is nervous."

"That or intoxicated," Virago commented. "That would be my lot to marry a lush."

"Maybe he is intoxicated by your beauty."

Virago glared at her, not that Lady Flaxen could see for the veil.

"Oh..." Flaxen uttered as she bit her lip. "Your wedding shroud. He cannot see you." She shrugged and said, "I know I am not the brightest. Please forgive this dim-witted servant."

Lord Caliber sat in the front pew next to King Elan and Princess Jasmine, Virago's younger sister. Lord Caliber glanced at the Prince's men as he sensed a supernatural force, then he leaned to the King, and whispered, "Last chance to change your mind. You could choose Commery over Fletching and return Morgog to its Golden Age."

"No, my mind is made up," King Elan answered.

Lord Caliber said, "As you wish, my lord."

"I cannot breathe," Edward said as he gripped Han's robe. "We must stop."

Ardor gave Han a worried look.

"A little longer, my lord," Han spoke as he hurried their pace.

Pluck thought Edward looked as if he'd spew his breakfast. She had her doubts he'd make it through the wedding.

The group stopped in front of the priest, and those assembled for the wedding quieted. Han and Ardor walked the Prince forward, released, stepped back, and prayed he would stand. The priest motioned for the Princess to move beside the Prince, and reluctantly she did. The priest cleared his throat, the flute players ceased their playing, and the priest opened his book.

"We gather here to witness a joining," the priest started and continued, "One that the Creator has ordained." He looked at the Prince and asked him, "Do you take Virago to be your wife?"

Edward swayed, putting his hand to his mouth, looking a little green. The priest took a step back. Han poked the Prince's back with his finger, and Edward straightened, answering, "Yes."

The priest shook his head, looked at the Princess, and asked her, "Do you take Edward to be your husband?"

She glanced at the pale man, pouted, and then whined, "Yes." Virago turned and cried on Flaxen's shoulder, "Why..? Why..?"

Her father stood, but Lord Caliber convinced the King to take his seat.

"There... There..." Flaxen spoke as she stroked the Princess' hair. "It shall be over soon."

The priest rubbed his temple, irritated by the high pitch shrill, and then he said, "Then in the sight of the Creator, you are now husband and wife." He slammed his book shut and said, "You may now kiss her."

Pluck gasped inwardly. The Princess couldn't have her kiss. Pluck feared moving as she felt herself pale. She hadn't thought kissing would be involved in this ceremony and after all this time, this blubbering woman was going to receive her redemption.

Edward hesitated, stunned and still ill.

"Lift her shroud," Han instructed.

Edward did and smiled, seeing Virago wasn't a hag like he envisioned. His green coloring faded as he looked over her milky skin, blue eyes, long ebony hair, and a face of an angel. The priest cleared his throat and motioned for the Prince to proceed. Edward leaned to her and then still afflicted by nerves, kissed her on the cheek.

Pluck sighed. There was still a chance for her to receive her redemption.

Virago and Edward stared at one another, neither sure what to say and then as quickly as they were married, the couple along with their escort were ushered out of the Cathedral. Virago to her carriage, and Edward to his horse. Both traveled to the port, and the Princess boarded the Dark Monarch and the Prince the Breakneck and soon with the Sea Sprite and Waterswift, the four vessels sailed toward the Isle of Kismet.
Chapter Nine

Coblet's Route

"My lord," Captain Brine uttered as he looked up from his desk and stood. "You and your men please enter." He motioned to chairs, noticing the Prince looked peaked. Edward, Han, Ardor, and Melee sat, and then Brine spoke, "As your spies have reported, Swelldom and Hort have a sun's cycle on us. There's only one course we can take to beat them." Brine paused, not sure to even mention it, then pointed to the map on his desk, and stated, "Coblet's Route."

"The way no man has ever returned from," Ardor exclaimed as he shuddered. "There must be another."

"None," Brine replied as he looked at the Prince. "My men are wary of going this route, but we shall sail it if it's your desire."

"As you said Captain, there is no other way. We shall take Coblet's Route. Signal the Waterswift, Dark Monarch, and Sea Sprite to follow," Edward ordered and then stood, swaying with the ship and held his stomach still a little queasy. "I shall be in my cabin."

"Aye," Brine said and then stared at the map as the others left. Drawings of sea monsters littered the area around Coblet's Route. He shook his head and mumbled, "Creator help us."

Clear skies abounded as they set on their journey, and the first two sun's cycles were uneventful. Edward took the opportunity to rest and get over the horrible wedding experience. Everyone aboard seemed to enjoy the serenity, but all feared it wouldn't last. The third sun's cycle during the latter part of the high sun, clouds scattered the blue sky. Below deck Pluck slept in her bunk soundly for the first time. She started to dream of a land where she would be accepted; it was a place that hadn't seen war for hundreds of seasons. Pluck was drawn to this new place, but the dream faded as her body tingled as if it was asleep. A sense of urgency woke her, and she sat up as an overwhelming panic set her on edge.

Something wasn't right, so Pluck jumped to the floor, wrapped her tail around her waist, grabbed her cloak, threw it on, and clasped it. The tingling persisted, warning of danger but didn't hinder her movement. Pluck pulled on her hood, put on her gloves and boots, grabbed the Lux, strapped it to her back, and rushed on deck. It was like magic electrified the air.

A seafoam green mist crept over the ships like a looming specter and thickened to fog. Pluck could barely see five steps past the bow as she pulled her cloak close in the cold air. Did the others feel this charge of energy? She walked up to the bridge and there, Captain Brine had the wheel as Han and Ardor stood next to him. The captain was talking.

"We've entered the barrier that surrounds Coblet's Route. From here, we sail uncharted seas," Brine said, then turned to his first mate, and ordered, "Have them trim the sails. Have two sailors stand at the bow to watch for rocks and shoals. Also if the lanterns will pierce this eerie mist, signal the other ships to do the same."

"Aye, captain."

The ships traveled on pressed by the current as an eerie stillness abounded. Neither wind nor waves broke the silence and without the sun or stars, no one knew how much time elapsed or what direction they sailed. All they knew was the fog.

"I don't like this," Brine spoke as he gripped the wheel. "We've journeyed through this demon vapor far too long. I fear we're off course."

"Ardor, go wake the Prince," Han commanded.

"There's no telling how long we'll have to travel before we break through. It could be endless," Brine said as he shivered in the nippy sea air. "If we can't tell what direction we're going, we'll venture the way all mariners have who dare trek this route."

"There must be some way through," Pluck spoke as she felt the captain's alarm. She heard sailors talk of those lost at sea and didn't wish to meet their fate, nor did she desire to encounter the monsters told in their tales and as she recounted those myths, the fur on the back of her neck rose. "By Fletching!" Pluck heard an eerie sound in the distance, and she said, "Listen..." She lifted her finger to her lips. All but her grim expression was shadowed by her hood. "I hear something."

Han and Brine strained to listen, and soon they also heard the roar of wind.

"What is it?" Han asked.

"I don't know," Brine replied. "It could be anything." He imagined the worst and then said, "It sounds like it's nearing us. Wake the ship," he ordered.

"There must be a way to pierce this fog so we can see what monstrosity approaches," Pluck stated and then a gush of heat warmed her back in the chill. It wasn't a tingling premonition like before, no this sensation was completely different; it was more physical than metaphysical.

"Your sword glows," Han uttered as he pointed at her weapon as it pulsed. Each time the Lux glowed, he saw the blade through the scabbard down to the ancient writings engraved in its steel.

She reached up, unsheathed the sword, and it rumbled as the lightning white blade lit up the ship, casting shadows across their faces.

"Witchcraft!" Brine uttered. "Why does the weapon burn?"

"I don't know," Pluck answered as she examined the blade, felt an urge to lift it, and did so. Azure lightning shot from the blade, igniting the seafoam green fog, and the vapor parted, forming a corridor as sunlight broke through.

A gust hit Brine's back, and he ordered, "Full sails!"

The sailors scurried to work, letting the canvases fall to harness the wind's power. The fog lessened to mist, revealing the other ships and together they traveled the corridor, clearing the barrier. As the last of the four ships cleared, the whole fog barrier disappeared like it never existed. Clear seas surrounded them, and ahead they saw land. The first mate came on the bridge.

"Take the wheel," Brine ordered, removing his telescope. "Does anyone hear that monstrous sound we heard earlier?"

Han shook his head as did Pluck.

"Perhaps it vanished with the barrier," Han suggested.

"Have we arrived at the Isle of Kismet?" Edward asked as he, Ardor, and Melee walked up the steps.

"Don't know. I wouldn't think we would be there yet." Brine handed the telescope to the commander.

Han took the instrument, peered into the eyepiece, and said, "I can't tell you any different, my lord. We should anchor in the bay and give the captain enough time to get our bearings with the sextant." He turned to Brine and questioned him, "What do you think? Is this agreeable?"

Brine started, "I think–"

"A spout!" a sailor in the crow's nest shouted.

Brine held up his hand, shading his eyes from the sun and looked at the sailor. The man pointed off their port.

"What does he mean a spout?" Edward asked.

"He means a waterspout," Brine told him as he searched the seas. "It's an ocean-bound tornado." He spotted the cyclone and exclaimed, "It's coming right for us!"

"Another one!" a sailor at the bow shouted.

"By Fletching!" Ardor uttered. "How can this be? There's no storm."

"Crell!" Brine yelled as he took the wheel. "More witchcraft!"

The sea churned as the spouts neared.

Brine looked at the Northern High Guard and asked, "Anything in your magic sword to combat these?"

Pluck stared at the Lux which had long since stopped glowing, and she replied, "I don't know."

"What good is the weapon if you can't harness its power?" Brine questioned as he turned the wheel sharply, trying desperately to avoid the spouts. "Sorcery!" He turned to Han and demanded, "Order him to wield his sword. We can't avoid these things; it's like they're tracking us."

Han didn't look at Pluck as he stated, "I have confidence she shall do what she can."

She? Ardor glanced over the Northern High Guard. Did Han speak of the sword? Ardor turned his attention back to the whirling menaces.

Pluck lifted the Lux, but the blade remained dormant, so she shook the sword as if to wake it. The closest spout slammed into the Waterswift. They heard sailors and High Guards shouting as they ran from the whirlwind. Even the horses who were trapped below screamed for the terror rocking the ship. Pieces of the vessel and men were sucked up into the vortex. The Waterswift tossed and turned as it wrestled with the funnel. The great wind beast prevailed, breaking the ship into large pieces, and the spout continued on unhindered by its fight with the Waterswift. The funnel headed for the Sea Sprite as the second spout hit Breakneck, their ship. The vortex stripped planks from the bow like they were paper, sending them flying. Men jumped into the sea to avoid the wind monster. The spout wrestled with the Breakneck, forcing it to ram into the Dark Monarch. The force cut a large gash down the side of the Breakneck.

In desperation, Pluck lifted her sword and shouted, "Stop!"

The spout tore through the middle of the ship, making its way toward them. Pluck's hood flew back, but no one saw her as they shielded their faces. She barely kept her eyes open in the torrent.

"STOP!" she screamed, but the sword remained lifeless. Pluck felt herself being pulled toward the vortex and grabbed the railing of the bridge as did the others. Her fiery-crimson mane whipped about as she covered her eyes with her sword arm before the spout swallowed them.
Chapter Ten

Wellspring

Waves rolled in, washing over a white sandy beach as the sun descended, nearing the western horizon and cast a tangerine glow over the blue-green waters. A jungle laid beyond the beach, bellowing with animals as a small creature emerged from the vegetation; it was a Trife. The rat-faced creature stood three-hands in height and short brown hair covered his head and continued down his back like an arrow. Long cream fur covered his monkey body, and his long hairless rat tail twitched with excitement. He wore a blue vest and had a burlap sack slung over his shoulder. His large dark brown eyes scanned the beach, noticing wreckage scattered along the shore. The Trife searched the jungle to see if he was followed, turned his attention back to the beach littered with possible treasure, sniffed the wind for any other danger, and slunk to a piece of wood. The Trife turned the broken plank over and found nothing of value when a glint in the distance from a large mass caught his eye. He ran to it ready to scurry into the jungle at the slightest hint of trouble. The Trife found a large creature faced down in the sand; it was large compared to his standards.

Quip, what the others of his kind called him, circled the stranger. She was furry like him but beige and cat-like. He had seen creatures similar to her on his journeys, that is those few which brought him close to the Great City Shangra. Quip stroked her fiery-crimson mane.

"Soft," he muttered and proceeded to search for the glint he'd seen. "What this?"

The stranger gripped a sword, and Quip rubbed his four clawed hands together as he mumbled to himself, "Weapon... Bring good price." He hurried to the sword and tried to pull it from her grasp, and he said, "Won't budge..." He noticed the ancient engravings on its blade and knew it was magic and very valuable. Ecstatic with the find, Quip tried prying her gloved fingers from the sword. He had to have it.

The stranger stirred and rolled over on her back, knocking Quip on his tail. She woke! He had to hide! Quip scurried for the jungle, forgetting his sack.

Pluck blinked in the light of the setting sun and sat up, coughing. The ocean stretched before her, and the smell of the salty beach filled her nostrils.

"Where..?" she started as she scanned the beach. "No one's here." She stood, grabbed her head, and moaned, "Oh..."

Pluck felt a bruise on her forehead. The last thing she remembered was the spout. Pluck searched the sea and spotted the tops of five masts sticking out of the water like bony fingers reaching for the sky. It was one of the ships, but she didn't know which. She wiped sand from the Lux and sheathed the sword. Pluck started down the beach when she kicked something soft and noticed it was a sack. She picked it up, feeling the small bag wasn't wet and wondered who it belonged to. She noticed tiny footprints that were smaller than a child's around her. Pluck took the sack, followed the tracks to the edge of the jungle, and searched the vegetation, but found no one. Many different scents filled the air. She decided she didn't have time to look and that she had to find Edward, Han, and the others. Pluck turned to leave when a creature pounced on the sack she carried.

"Mine!" Quip screeched. "Can't have. Mine!"

Startled by something leaping at her, Pluck threw the sack along with the rat-monkey toward the beach, drew her sword, and approached it. Pluck wasn't sure what frightened her more, the creature's strange appearance or that it talked? She pointed her blade at it and demanded, "Who... What are you?"

"Don't hurt. Me Quip," he said as he raised his hairy arms. "Don't mean harm."

Pluck didn't feel threatened by the small creature and lowered her sword. She didn't sheathe the Lux on the chance her instincts were wrong as she commented, "I've never seen anything like you."

"Quip, Trife. There many Trifes," he told her as he lowered his arms and pointed at her. "Where from?"

"I'm from the Fletching Kingdom," Pluck replied as she stared at the strange looking rat-monkey. She wondered if he was cursed like herself, and then she asked, "I need to find the others. Have you seen them?"

"Others?" Quip questioned as he didn't understand.

"Yes, beings like me," she said as she pointed to herself. Pluck considered that maybe he wasn't cursed. Maybe he was what he was.

"Oh... like you. Me seen thousands," he told her as he pointed inland. "Live in Shangra."

She ran her hand through her damp sandy mane, remembered her face wasn't hidden and not only that, but the tip of her tail dangled below the cloak. Quip had seen her and said there were others like her. Pluck restated, "The ones I'm looking for are different than I." She pulled her hood on ashamed of her appearance and hid her tail. "They have no fur on their faces or bodies."

"Oh..." Quip said as he stroked his long chin hair. "Me not seen."

"I have to find them. Maybe..." she started as she looked over the Trife, trying to read his character. "Can you help me find them?"

"Help?" Quip exclaimed and then laughed at the notion. "What me get?"

She checked her belt, found her wet money pouch, and opened it, finding fifty crunes; it was a small silver coin with a turtle engraved on it. She knelt, held up a crune, and told him, "I'll give you this if you help me."

"Three..." Quip said as he held up his claws, signifying the number. "Me help sun's cycle."

"Two crunes," Pluck countered. "And the sun's cycle will be from sunset to sunset. There are many to find."

Quip scratched his chin and then told her, "Feed me, it deal."

Food? She didn't even have a Jewel Apple, so Pluck answered, "You can eat half of what I have."

"Agreed," the Trife said as he spat on his paw and offered it to her.

She made a face, then took his paw, and shook it.

"Pay," he insisted.

She told him, "When the job is over or the sun's cycle, not till then."

"Capah!" Quip cursed. "Fine..."

"We need a plan of action. You're native..." Pluck interrupted herself as she wondered where she was. What kind of land would have a talking creature? Was there magic there? She sheathed the Lux and asked, "What's the name of this place?"

"MayPah of West Region," Quip replied as he stared at the sword, disappointed he wouldn't have the wealth it would have brought him.

"West Region? West Region of what?"

Quip tilted his head curiously as he questioned, "Not know? Wellspring."

"Wellspring? We're not on the Isle of Kismet," she uttered as she looked over the sea which seemed vast now. "Then we are lost." She paused, considered their situation, and then told herself, "There'll be time to worry about that later, I must find the others." She pointed along the white sandy beach lapped by blue-green water and ordered, "Quip you go south, and I'll go north. If you find someone or when the sun rises, come back to this point." Pluck piled planks from the wreckage in an X the size of a man and placed them up beyond the tide line.

Quip nodded and scurried along the beach as Pluck hurried north and along the way she noticed hoof prints. The horses... Some must have survived. Pluck started up the beach, fearful she would find neither man nor animal alive. She had better find the steeds, so she tracked them into the jungle, found three near a small stream, checked them over, and found minor injuries. Pluck grabbed their reins, leading them to the beach. It was standard procedure to leave halters and saddles on horses when traveling by ship.

The sun set, darkening the area with twilight as more strange animal sounds blared from the jungle, making the horses nervous. She traveled for more than a nal and found no one but another horse. The steed was dead, drowned. The sky ever darkened as her feline eyes quickly adjusted to the night. The others weren't as fortunate to have her sight but... She glanced up, seeing both new moons rising in the black sky. Auror the Greater and Array the Lesser would give them light. Pluck hoped they searched the beach and didn't go into the jungle. She stopped as her keen senses picked up a familiar scent on the breeze. Fire. Someone could be near. She ran along the shore with the horses trotting behind. A roaring flame appeared ahead, and many men stood around it. Pluck stopped abruptly, shocked by what she saw. All the men had removed their outer clothing and were standing in their surads, underwear cut above the knee. They wore their sword frogs over their surads, while their wet clothing laid on rocks around the fire. Embarrassed by the sight of their nakedness, she turned, shading her eyes.

"Halt!" one of them shouted as most of the men went for their swords, and the Archers knocked their arrows. "Identify yourself!"

It was too late to leave, so she declared, "I am Pluck, the Northern High Guard."

"Pluck?" Han shouted, glanced down at himself, went, and stood behind the others. "Come."

She entered the ring of light and there she diverted her eyes from their near nakedness. Curiosity got the better of her, and she glanced around at their faces and saw Han, Edward, Ardor, Fracas, Melee, Captain Brine, a few sailors, and more than five dozen High Guards stared at her. Bulwark was there also holding the glass container with the Mystic Rose whose petals were pink. The commander pulled on his pants and motioned for one of the soldiers to step forward. A High Guard came, took the three horses from her, tied them to a tree near other horses they'd found, and removed their saddles and blankets.

"You survived," Han uttered as he hugged her and stepped back. "Have you seen any of the others?"

That was most odd, Ardor considered. The commander greeted Pluck like a son. Did the Northern High Guard find favor with Han? Ardor sneered as he feared his right to succeed the commander might be challenged and with Han's support, Pluck might succeed.

"No one," she answered Han and turned her gaze to the fire. "Did all the ships sink?"

"We know three did," Ardor answered, stepping closer to them as the flickering fire cast a shadow beside the scar under his right eye. "We have found no signs of the Dark Monarch."

Pluck glanced at Han's Second, noticing Ardor had a large scar across his chest and a small one on his calf. Pluck turned her gaze, realizing he noticed her stare.

Ardor sneered again. Did the Northern High Guard suspect his fears? Did Pluck plot as he did to ensure the commander position? The Northern High Guard hid something. What could it be? Ardor had to know; it could be the one thing that secured his advance. He made a fist and swore to himself he would find out no matter the price.

"The Dark Monarch is Princess Virago's ship," Edward said as he paced. "We must find her. If we do not, it shall be meaningless that we made it to Kismet."

Pluck turned at hearing the Prince's voice and blushed, seeing him in his surad. His gold medallion reflected the fire's light as she looked at the ground ashamed she saw her Prince like this. Pluck spoke, "I don't think we're on Kismet."

"What do you mean?" Edward questioned.

"I ran into one of the natives," Pluck replied as she stared at the fire, though her curiosity of the male physique tempted her. "He said this place is called Wellspring."

"Where's this native now?" Ardor asked.

"I had him go south along the beach looking for any survivors. He's to return to a place I marked at sunrise or if he finds anyone," Pluck answered, and then she heard movement and told everyone, "Many approach us." She reached up, drew the Lux, and moved to the front of those gathered as she shouted, "Identify yourselves."

"It is I, Vim, second in command of the Sentinels. I have with me twenty-four of my men," he answered as his voice sounded labored like he was carrying something. "Three are injured."

Pluck saw that they were Morgog royal army but knew the others couldn't, so she told them, "Come into the light."

Vim and his men did.

"What ship are you from?" Han asked.

"Sea Sprite," Vim answered. "We believe we are all who survived."

"Then no one knows if Virago is well?" Edward asked as he couldn't stand not knowing. The Emperor's crown depended on both he and the Princess arriving at Kismet. If Virago was dead, then this whole trip was for nothing... It was a complete waste of his time.

Vim replied, "I don't know."

"I cannot wait any longer. I must see if she is alive," Edward said as he grabbed his white cotton pants and blue silk shirt that were still a little wet and put them on. "We shall take torches and go look for her."

Han put on his white shirt and red cape and then ordered, "Ardor, you, Melee, Pluck, and Fracas come with us."

"Yes, commander," the men replied and started dressing.

Han turned to the others and commanded them, "The rest of you stay here and wait for those who might find this fire."

"I shall go with you," Vim insisted.

"Of course," Han said, knowing he would demand the same if he was the Morgog Second.

Vim, who was tall as Fracas the Archer, turned to his men and ordered them, "Stay here, tend to the wounded, and dry by the fire." He removed his waterlogged black leather armor and undershirt, setting them on the rocks, but left on his wet pants and boots. Vim's long black hair was pulled back in a single braid as was customary for Sentinels. He added, "Group here. I shall go with these men to look for our Princess, Lord Caliber, and Avarice our commander."

"Yes, sir," they replied, setting down their wounded.

After dressing, Ardor went and stood by the Northern High Guard and noticed a sweet musky scent surrounded Pluck. The Northern High Guard smelled like a wet cat. He cleared his throat and said, "Commander, perhaps Pluck should stay and dry himself. We do not want him to catch a cold."

She told him, "I'm fine." Pluck looked at Han. Surely he knew she couldn't stay here for she couldn't undress in front of the men.

"Pluck shall come," Han commanded.

"Then let us leave," Edward insisted. "Can we take a few of the horses?"

"I would not, my lord," Han said as he went over and patted one on the neck. "What few survived need their rest after their ordeal."

"Then let us set out on foot," Edward ordered as he grabbed a torch from a supply crate that washed ashore and held it over the fire till it dried enough to catch flame. Ardor, Han, Vim, and Melee also lit torches.

The Prince led the group into the night along the shore as he said, "Quickly now, keep with me."

They ran matching his frantic pace as the moons gave plenty of light to the beach. The group heard the sea lap at the sand and felt it rush under their feet and splash their legs. Along the way, they found four dead sailors and two High Guards.

Ardor couldn't believe they dishonored their dead by abandoning their bodies. They should have done more than drag their bodies up the beach so the sea didn't reclaim them. He clasped the Black Elk insignia on his red cape. Did this symbol mean nothing to them? Should they not honor their brothers?

Han sensed his concerns and told his Second, "We'll be back for them. They'll receive a burial befitting a High Guard." The commander stopped so he could face his Second and told him, "First, we must make sure our future Queen is safe."

Ardor glanced at his Prince who was now a great distance ahead of them and stated, "I understand."

"Good, let us make haste and catch up to our lord," Han said, and then he jogged ahead.

Ardor followed. The commander had great wisdom. If only he could lead with such when it was his turn. He glanced at Pluck, knowing there was something not right with the Northern High Guard. What was his secret?

Within a nal, they arrived at Pluck's marker and found several men. A few were crouched, trying to start a fire with their flint from their High Guard belt and then two men approached them. Edward and Han lifted their torches, seeing Sinew and Parry stood, shivering before them.

"My lord... Commander... Are... are both of you well?" Parry stuttered.

Melee walked over with his torch and ignited the lightwood, and slowly the men added more wood till a fire roared.

"Yes, we are searching for Princess Virago. Have you seen her?" Edward asked.

"No, my lord," Sinew replied. "We have seen no one else except the odd little creature who told us to meet here. He said Pluck instructed him to do so."

"I did," she said as she stepped forward. "Where's Quip now?"

"Me here," the Trife replied as he scurried in from the darkness, warming his paws by the fire.

"By Fletching!" Ardor uttered. "What the Phraggs?"

Vim drew his sword and spat, "The Fires of Morgog! We should kill this vile thing."

"No!" Pluck yelled as she stepped between them. "He's helping us. He's a friend."

"Me, friend," Quip insisted as he hid behind her cloak like a frightened child.

"There can be only sorcery involved," Vim exclaimed, and then he insisted, "It must be destroyed!"

"Stow your weapon, Morgog," Han demanded. "If Pluck says the creature is a friend, then it is."

"Crell!" Vim cursed as he sneered, sheathing his sword. "Morgogs are not quick to make such judgments of loyalty. A word is nothing only action. I shall keep my eye on this creature."

Quip gulped and muttered, "Me afraid."

"I would stay out of Vim's way if I were you," Pluck spoke as she knelt to the Trife. "Were you able to find anyone else?"

"Ship," Quip answered as he pointed into the darkness.

"Where is it?" Edward demanded.

"Cove," Quip replied. "Far."

"Take us there," Edward commanded.

"Yes," Vim agreed. "We must go now."

"Me take," Quip said as he headed into the darkness. "Follow."

The group headed off.

Han turned to Sinew and Parry and commanded them, "Stay here. Warm yourselves. We shall return."

The group followed the Trife along the shore. Several nals went by before they reached the cove, and there they saw a ship anchored. The first rays of the new sun's cycle peered over the jungle, revealing a rocky shore around the cove, and the jungle lay beyond the rocks. The water in the cove was indigo unlike the blue-green water surrounding the island. The hilt of the Lux flashed twice.

"What is this?" Vim demanded, looking at the sword strapped to the Northern High Guard's back. "Does he carry a weapon of magic?"

"There's nothing to fear, Sentinel," Han insisted. "Are you suspicious of everything?"

"I am Morgog," he answered, tightening his jaw. "Have all of you gone mad? Crell! Only evil can come from dealing with such things."

For once, Ardor agreed with a Morgog. No favorable end would come from Pluck's weapon.

Han looked at the approaching rays as he said, "We can move faster in the light, let's hurry."

Pluck frowned as she considered too many feared magic. What would happen when they discovered she was cursed by it?

"Let us move to the other side of the cove," Edward ordered as he started walking over the large rocks surrounding the area. "The shore this way is closest to the ship."

Quip scurried after the Prince. The Trife darted forward, stopped, scanned the area, and sniffed the wind. He did this several times and within a quarter of a nal, they were nearly to the point closest to the Dark Monarch.

Pluck scanned the indigo waters surrounding the ship, seeing tiny sparkles shimmer in the light of the sun and dance in its yellow radiance. She smiled, delighted by the beautiful sight, but her delight turned to bewilderment. Movement in the water splashed away the reflections, and she noticed many shadows swimming beneath the indigo surface. Hundreds of these dark shapes neared the Princess' ship.

"There's something in the water!" Pluck warned and hurried ahead.

Quip looked at the cove and exclaimed, "Not good. Ship disturbed Breed." He darted into the jungle. "Hide!"

"What are they talking about?" Ardor asked as he squinted but couldn't see anything at their distance.

"Quickly!" Han ordered. "If Pluck says there's something, then there is."

How could Pluck see from this distance? Ardor thought only animals had that ability.

The group rushed for the Dark Monarch and in the distance, they heard men cry out in alarm and shouts of battle replaced the panic as the Sentinels and sailors engaged an enemy. Many Morgog Bowmen lined the sides of the ship, firing at objects in the air and in the sea while those with swords and knives struck at things on deck.

"Who do they fire upon?" Vim questioned as he squinted. "I see nothing."

"I don't know," Han replied as he drew his sword. "But we shall give them a hand."

"They're fighting creatures that fly out of the water," Pluck answered. "Maybe Quip is right. Maybe the Dark Monarch disturbed these creatures' brood."

Hundreds of Breed darted out of the dark blue murk like arrows. Their heavily armored bodies were scaled and colored like beryl, and their long eel forms whipped through the air as they spread their spiked fins. The armor-fish sliced by the sailors and Sentinels. Men cried out, cut by the knife like spikes and after their attacks, the Breed glided over top of the ship, darted down for a second wave, and returned to the water. The Morgog Bowmen fired, striking many of the water fiends, but their arrows couldn't penetrate the creatures' scaled armor. The Breed's relentless attacks continued like an angry swarm of Swamp Wasp.

Princess Virago stayed safely below, listening to her people battle the horrendous creatures. "Why do these fiends attack us?" she questioned Lord Caliber. "I want them to stop. Make them stop!"

"I do not know, my lady," he answered, gripping his wolf-head staff. "Perhaps a wielder of magic raised this unholy army to prevent us from completing the Amalgamation."

"How can we fight such sorcery?" Virago asked as she clinched Lady Flaxen's dress.

"I do not know," Lord Caliber replied as he paced her cabin.

"Can we not leave this cove?" Flaxen asked.

"I heard the Dark Monarch's captain tell Avarice the ship takes on water. The continuous bailing is all that keeps her afloat," Lord Caliber answered as he glanced out the window as a Breed slammed into the wall, sending the advisor scrambling for safety. The translucent aqua armor-fish looked through the window with its large white oval eye. Lord Caliber ran over to the glass, muttered a few words at the creature, it flew off, and he closed the shutters. "Something must be done about these fiends."

"Where is the commander of my Sentinels?" Virago questioned now safely behind Flaxen.

"Avarice is where he should be, my lady," Lord Caliber replied as he crept back to the door, listening to the commotion above. "He is on deck commanding his men. Only he can save us."
Chapter Eleven

The Breed

On the Dark Monarch's deck...

"Bowmen!" Avarice shouted as he raised his two-handed Flamberge sword, shouting over the turmoil. His long gray-black hair was tied back in a braid and his sideburns came to a point at his jaw. "Use flaming arrows. Surely the Fires of Morgog shall vanquish these beasts!"

Sentinel Footsoldiers retrieved small barrels of oil from the hold. Monks collected the fuel from the pools feeding the Capital's most sacred place. The Footsoldiers set them beside the Bowmen and opened the containers, and then torches were lit and handed out. The Bowmen dipped their special arrows in the oil, lit them, and fired upon the Breed. The armor-fish squealed in agony when hit by the flames as oil and fire spread over their scaled bodies. A few dove into the cove, and steam hissed as they hit, but many of the Breed burst into ash and the wind scattered their remains.

"Knock arrows," Avarice ordered as his pale blue eyes searched the water. "Fire!"

The second wave caused the Breed to retreat to their liquid home. Over fifty of them had been destroyed. Vim, Han, and the others arrived on the beach opposite the Dark Monarch.

"The beasts have retreated," Vim said as he searched the indigo waters. "At least for now."

"Perhaps it would be better if the Dark Monarch anchored elsewhere," Han stated as he looked at the Prince.

"Agreed," Edward said as he scanned the ship, but he didn't see the Princess. "I shall speak with Virago."

Aboard the Dark Monarch...

"Is it over?" Lord Caliber questioned as he crept on deck. "Are the creatures gone?"

"Yes, my lord," Avarice replied as he looked over his scratched and tattered men. "For the most part, the beasts were no more than a painful nuisance. We lost no one. The cuts shall heal with time."

"Cuts?" Lord Caliber questioned as he glanced around the ship. "Ah yes, the men... so then we are safe?"

Virago stepped on deck with Lady Flaxen.

"My Princess, you shouldn't be on deck. The fiends could attack again," Avarice spoke as his war-hardened face wrinkled with concern. "If something should happen to you, our hope for the Amalgamation–"

"Thank you for your concern, commander, but the ship is filling with water, and I wish to depart. Have your men follow us to shore. The Captain and sailors can deal with the Dark Monarch. There are many supplies and my presents that need to be unloaded."

"At once," Avarice said and started preparations.

Sailors lowered several longboats to the water and rowed them to shore and after many trips, Dark Monarch's Sentinels were on the beach along with half the ship's sailors.

"Princess..." Avarice spoke as he bowed with Vim and four Footsoldiers. "All my men aboard the Dark Monarch are accounted for. The captain and a few sailors remain on the ship to salvage what they can before she sinks." He motioned to Vim and then said, "My Second informs me that the Sea Sprite sank. He does not know how many survived save the men he left with the High Guards."

Edward approached with Han, Ardor, and Melee and told them, "We lost both of our ships to the spouts."

Avarice glared at the High Guards and exclaimed, "Arrogant mongrels! Bow before your Princess when you enter her presence."

Han looked at the Prince, and Edward nodded. The three High Guards bowed to her.

"My apologies Princess, my men are not used to having such a beautiful woman in their presence," Han said.

Virago smiled.

"What do we do now?" Lord Caliber asked as he walked to the group, stomping his staff across the sand.

"We should set up camp," Han suggested.

Avarice sneered and hid his dislike for the Fletching Commander as he said, "I concur." He looked around the cove and the jungle, and then he added, "We should find a place that is defendable."

Pluck approached and stated, "Han we found a cave, but it isn't very large."

"A cave," Virago said as she made a face. "I do not think I would want to stay in a dark dank place."

Pluck continued, "We also came across a large clearing with two hills. I recommend this spot."

"It sounds like an ideal place to defend," Avarice commented.

"Then let us set up camp before night is upon us," the Prince ordered.

Morgog and Fletching worked together to set up camp. Most of the supplies used were salvaged from the Dark Monarch, but a few crates and items from the others ships were found along the shore. Virago and Lord Caliber's rectangular tents were set up one on each hilltop. The Princess made Lord Caliber give his tent to Edward so the lord bunked with Avarice. The large rectangular tents had three sections. The first had a parlor with chairs, couches, and tables, the second housed clothing chests and was used for changing, and the third held the bed. A flap divided each section. Avarice set up his round tent at the bottom of the hill on the east side as Sentinels and Morgog sailors made camp around him. Han, borrowing a Morgog round tent, set his up on the west side as High Guards and Fletching sailors set up around him. Many shared housing to compensate for the supplies lost at sea.

Out of the 200 High Guards and 38 Fletching sailors, 32 High Guards and 11 sailors were missing or found dead. The Morgogs fared better. Out of 200 Sentinels and 40 sailors, 21 Sentinels and 9 sailors were missing or found dead. Most of the horses were found alive, and only three had to be put down for their injuries. The group had little food and most of their water was contaminated by the sea except that on the Dark Monarch. Night came and torches were lit as sentries walked the perimeter of the hills.

A new sun's cycle came as Avarice, Vim, and Lord Caliber made their way to the Prince's tent. Outside Melee and Bulwark stood guard. The three Morgogs entered and found Han, Ardor, and Edward looking over a map.

"The map does us no good," Ardor said. "It does not tell us where we are or how to reach Kismet. We have wasted enough time."

"I agree," Avarice spoke up. "We sailed Coblet's Route to catch up on the other Kingdoms. We have only lost time."

Lord Caliber walked to the table the map laid on and spoke, "That is apparent to all of us commander, but how do we leave Wellspring? The Dark Monarch is not seaworthy nor do we have the supplies to repair her."

"Perhaps we should find a city or a port and get what supplies we need or even buy a ship," Han suggested as he glanced around. "Has anyone seen the Trife? He could assist us."

"The Trife?" Avarice questioned.

Vim leaned to his commander and told him, "It's a creature that assisted us in finding you. It is a talking beast."

"A Necrom?" Lord Caliber asked.

"No," Vim replied as he shook his head, and the black braid lying over his right shoulder moved. He leveled his hand near his leg. "Smaller like a dog but walks upright."

"Pluck and Quip went to the beach to search for survivors," Ardor answered. "They said they would return this morning."

Han's brow wrinkled with thought, and then he said, "Perhaps we should busy our men with finding water and food and then when the Trife returns, we can have him make a map of this area. He may even know of a city."

"Can we trust this creature?" Avarice asked. "Necrom or not, a beast that talks can only mean magic."

Han answered, "Vim told me a word is nothing to Morgogs only actions. The Trife has proven he can help and has done nothing to revoke my trust."

"Your trust, perhaps," Avarice stated. "Fine, but I am leery of any beast that talks."

"As the Necroms proved to our forefathers," Lord Caliber added. "Talking beasts cannot be trusted."

Avarice looked at Vim and the lord and told them, "Come, there is much to do."

Ardor went to the entrance, waiting for the Morgogs to enter their camp. "Commander..." He turned walking to Han, and then he spoke, "I've never heard you talk so... so..."

"Without command," Edward said.

Han nodded as he stated, "There is a lesson here, my Second. Our alliance is a delicate one, so there shall be many power struggles. It is best to walk lightly."

"You believe Avarice might challenge Edward or you?"

He answered, "The Morgog Commander would never challenge Edward, but me..." Han paused and then said, "Avarice might be thinking ahead. How many commanders can there be? What shall become of our armies? It is best for now not to let him think I'm threatening him."
Chapter Twelve

Dreadgons

Pluck and Quip returned, having found several more men. Soldiers, Fletching and Morgog alike, set about their daily chores. Some stoked the fires while others gathered wood. Large cast iron pots were placed over flames to boil water for Sable Coffee, a very black liquid served straight, and Chip Tea. It was made from a brownish-red bitter root sweetened with Forest Bee's honey. Supplies were divided as Fletching Archers and Morgog Bowmen checked their equipment, made new arrows, and repaired old. Many High Guards and Sentinel Calvary sat, sharpening their swords. Trackers set out, scouting the area and led parties to hunt game. Sailors searched for springs and gathered fruits and nuts while the Princess and Lady Flaxen slept through the morning. Before midday, the Fletching circle and Quip met with the Morgog command.

"I say we send a party to this Great City the Trif..."

"Me Trife," Quip interrupted Vim.

The Morgog Second growled, and the rat-monkey said no more, returning to his drawing.

"As I was saying, we should send a party to this Great City the Trife speaks of," Vim said as he leaned on the table, looking at the map Quip drew of MayPah. He didn't like dealing with the small creature. It reminded him too much of what Necroms supposedly looked like. "Surely they shall have ships we can hire to sail us to Kismet."

"We are too few. We shouldn't send a group," Ardor insisted. "Let us move as a whole and send scouts ahead of us and that should save time."

"There... Me done," Quip stated as he stood on the sketch, examining his creation. "Good map." He pointed with the quill which was nearly half his size and told them, "Shangra beyond Echo Marsh. Take riding animals three sun's cycles but travel through Land of Mud People. If me, travel long way around. Mud People no like visitors."

"What other options are there than going to this city?" Edward questioned as he scanned the map. The gold medallion of a charging Black Elk dangled from his neck.

Lord Caliber scanned the Prince's hands, looking for markings then turned to the Morgog Commander and shook his head.

Avarice frowned and turned his attention to Edward's question and stated, "Other options?"

The Morgog Commander and Han glanced at each other and shrugged.

"None that we can come up with, my lord," Han spoke as he studied the Callow Jungle. "Quip, what dangers might we face if we trek this land beside these Mud People you spoke of?"

"Dangers?" he questioned as he scratched his rat nose.

"Yes, are there other creatures like the Breed that we might face? Even though we are running out of time, I would prefer a safe route."

"Many..." the Trife replied as he shuttered. "Me avoid. Me not like conflict."

"Avoidance is best," Han said. "Can you draw us the best course to the Great City Shangra?"

Quip nodded and went to work.

Sinew rushed in as sweat ran down the tracker's bald head, and then he uttered as his pale face shone of terror, "Commander, quickly outside."

Everyone hurried out.

"What is it?" Ardor demanded.

"There!" Sinew shouted as he pointed.

The camp was up in arms, looking down at the jungle where the tracker motioned. In the distance, trees swayed and cracked, toppling to the ground as a tidal wave of leaves and branches headed for the camp. The ground trembled as a great weight stomped across the land, and the wave of trees continued their way.

Han turned to Sinew and uttered, "By Fletching! What manner of creature is approaching us?"

The tracker told him, "I don't know. A man from my hunting party came, screaming to us about monsters. When the ground shook, I told the men to run." He pleaded with his hands as he said, "Please forgive me, I wasn't thinking. I led the creatures here."

"Creatures?" Han spoke as he turned to Avarice. "Let us ready the Archers and Bowmen, so they may attack whatever emerges from the jungle if these things are hostile." He faced his men and ordered them, "Melee and Pluck take Edward, go retrieve the Princess, and take them to a more protective area." He looked down for the Trife and spoke, "Quip."

"Me know place," he said as he turned to Pluck. "Hurry, me don't like what comes." Quip muttered, "Very big. Very bad."

"I shall join you," Lord Caliber spoke as he followed Edward.

Pluck stared at the unknown menace as part of her wished to stay and face this enemy. She reluctantly obeyed Han, following Edward and Melee, but she paused once more as the ground shook. She was apprehensive and felt like she needed to stay. Something was going to happen that would shape the future. Dread gripped her heart as she feared it wouldn't be for the good. Pluck watched as Archers and Bowmen readied themselves, and she felt their terror and those in the camp. Whatever came, even the trees couldn't stop them. Pluck obeyed Han through her mounting fears and followed the Prince.

Han and his men mounted their horses and unsheathed their silver handled rapiers. The Sentinel Cavalry mounted their horses, drawing their Flamberges as their Footsoldiers readied their spears. The last tree fell just short of the clearing and shot leaves up in a whirlwind. The undergrowth settled and there was silence. No one dared move as a few restless horses neighed and stomped the dirt.

A deep voice roared from the jungle, "Violators!" Trees shook, and the voice like a Mountain Bear shouted, "We are Dreadgons, and we are infuriated. You violated our swamp and stole our food." The ground shook as the Dreadgon yelled, "We demand retribution!"

"Swamp?" Han looked at the Morgog Commander and asked him, "Did any of your men report coming upon a swamp?"

"Yes," Avarice replied as he kept his gaze to the jungle. "Some of my men found several birds nesting in the area and took their eggs." He steadied his anxious horse.

Han said, "We should give them back."

"It is too late." For the first time, Avarice looked at the Fletching Commander like he was something he'd wiped from his boot, and then he said, "My men already boiled and ate them."

Ardor murmured to the commander, "Eggs? They didn't mention this before." He spoke, "They were hoarding them. Now we are about to pay for food we had no taste off."

"Quiet," Han ordered, stifling his own rage. "Now is not the time." He yelled, "We didn't know the eggs were yours. We are strangers here and had no knowledge anyone claimed the swamp. We wouldn't have taken them if we had known." Han looked over their combined forces and knew they couldn't afford a battle, so he asked, "What can we give you to compensate for what we took?"

Quip returned, climbed a nearby tree for a better view, tilted his head, and listened to the Dreadgons discuss the matter. Only his sensitive rat ears could hear the conversation.

"Gar, these violators stole what would have fed us this sun's cycle and the next two. What do they possess that could compensate?"

"I don't know, Tusk. They possess work animals, but we don't eat flesh, and they are too small for us to ride." Gar reasoned, "If they stole the eggs, they probably don't have enough food to replace what they ate." The Dreadgon paused, and then he spoke, "They did say they are strangers here, and I don't recognize their kind. I see one option that will settle this..."

"I agree," Tusk interrupted before Gar finished.

The other Dreadgons murmured their agreement.

Gar cleared his throat and shouted, "You are wise, outlander, but you possess nothing we want. Only blood will satisfy our dispute."

Han glared at the Morgog Commander as he yelled, "They are going to kill us for the eggs your men stole!"

Avarice snarled, nudging his steed forward, and then he spoke, "We shall see about that."

Vim and the Morgog Cavalry followed.

Quip climbed down the tree and jumped on Han's horse, tugging on the High Guard's red cape and then told him, "Dreadgons no fight. Ask Blood Pledge, promise you'll remain off land. Customary among jungle dwellers."

"An oath?" Han repeated, and then his eyes widened as he shouted, "Commander wait!" He kicked his horse and rode toward the other commander. "Hold your men."

"Fass! You Fletching are mongrels!" Avarice yelled as he whirled his steed around to face the Fletching Commander. "How can you cower at a time like this?" he asked as he made a fist. "One sun's cycle you Fletching shall taste..." He stopped himself from finishing his sentence.

"Commander," Vim spoke up. "Perhaps we should hear what–"

"Nonsense," Avarice scolded his Second. "These things call for blood." He reined his horse to face the jungle as he shouted, "Blood they shall have!" Avarice pointed his sword at the jungle and yelled, "BOWMEN! FIRE!"

"No!" Han shouted. "They don't want a fight!"

The Morgog Bowmen released their steel pointed fury into the vegetation. The Dreadgons roared, and five of them rushed out, removing arrows like they were nothing more than thorns. The large beasts who were the size of huts swung huge spiked clubs above their heads and charged up the slope. They were stout and wide as they were tall. Thick gray skin covered them, and dense black hair blanketed their huge forearms, bare feet, and hunched backs. Their large ridged heads were a third of their size, and they had no necks. Three sallow eyes set in a triangle and glared at the men as two yellow tusks curved out from their large square lips. Their noses were pig-like, and brown pants that were held up by a wide buckled belt covered their stout legs.

The Bowmen scattered as the lead Dreadgon slammed his spiked club on the ground, and dirt burst into the air. The Dreadgon leveled his weapon, pointing it across the camp as he declared, "Small foolish ones, now blood won't settle this dispute only your deaths." He lifted his spiked weapon and stated, "I, Gar, proclaim this."

He swung his club, clipping three Bowmen in his path, and the men screamed as they were hurled across the camp. Another Dreadgon grabbed two Fletchings by their capes, whipped them in the air, and slammed them on the ground. The gray beast did this several times and left the men to choke on their own blood. Avarice quickly called his Cavalry to retreat as a Dreadgon swung his club, missing a few Archers but smashed a supply tent. His attack took out several crates and barrels spilling their contents to the dirt.

"I, Tusk, will smash you," a Dreadgon shouted whose tusks were much larger than the others. He stomped after the Morgog Cavalry, grunting angrily.

Han shouted to his men, "Distract the beasts so our Archers may flee." He scanned the camp, spotting Gar as he added, "But do not attack." Han shouted to his Archers, "Cease fire!" He headed his horse for the leader as he yelled, "Gar!" Han galloped to the Dreadgon and told him, "I am their leader. This matter should be between you and me."

A few of the Fletching Archers who hadn't heard the orders fired on the Dreadgons. Most of their arrows bounced off their armor-like hides, and the few that penetrated barely nicked them. The mounted High Guards ran their horses around the great beasts, allowing their Archers to flee.

Gar grabbed a Fletching sailor and raised his club to smash the head of the helpless man. He caught the sailor's scent and paused, sniffing over him with his slimy hognose. He glanced around the camp, sniffing the wind as a righteous anger overcame him. Gar dropped the sailor, and the terrified man scurried away.

Han neared Gar when another Dreadgon stomped in front of the commander and spooked his horse. His steed reared as Han tried to steady it, but the horse lost its balance. The steed fell back on top of Han.

"Stop!" Gar ordered, and the Dreadgons did.

"Why stop?" Tusk asked.

"We blamed all these creatures because they look alike. Bigotry..." Gar tucked his club into his wide belt as he said, "It is now clear to me there are two different groups." He hurried to the fallen commander as he spoke, "This one claims responsibility, yet he doesn't have the scent of our eggs on him only the ones in black do and yet, they are the ones fleeing." He grabbed the horse with both his large hands, lifted it off the commander, put it down, and the steed walked away only winded. "This matter demands justice but not at the cost of the innocent."

"Then it's a matter of fairness," Tusk spoke, and then he nodded his approval and snorted for the others to join them.

They watched Gar help the commander who had fallen.

Blood ran from Han's mouth as Ardor dismounted, rushing to his side. "Stay back," he warned the Dreadgon. "Commander..." Ardor dared not move him for blood stained his side. "Your ribs..."

"I know. There's nothing you can do," Han told him as he gritted his teeth for the pain. "We must settle this." He reached out his arm and told Ardor, "Help me sit up."

"I think it best if you–"

He interrupted Ardor, "I think it best you do as I command." Han squeezed his Second's hand as he sat up. "Gar..." He coughed up blood, and then he spoke, "We must satisfy this."

"I now understand your people were not at fault here," Gar said as he glanced around the battered camp, noticing Avarice. "Are both of you the true leaders?"

Han winced, and then he replied, "No, but we are the protectors." He struggled to breathe.

"Send for your leaders," Gar demanded.

Han looked at Parry and ordered him, "Have Quip show you where the Prince and Princess are. Tell Edward they have been summoned."

The Blond Ox choked back tears, seeing his commander near death and said, "At once."

He and Quip returned shortly with the Prince and Princess.

Edward stepped forward and declared, "I am Prince Edward."

Those with Gar were awed by the Princess and Lady Flaxen.

"Look, fair ones," one of the Dreadgons uttered as he pointed his club. "They would satisfy us."

"Them?" Gar looked the females over and questioned the other Dreadgon, "What do you want them for? They are too small to be our mates."

"They could cook and clean for us," another Dreadgon answered. "That would make up for the eggs we lost, and they are pretty."

"No," Edward declared, putting himself between the women and the gray beasts. "You shall not have them."

"Yes, they would satisfy the debt," Tusk agreed.

Gar looked at Han and then to Edward and told him, "The Dreadgons have spoken. They are what we want, but we can be fair since they're your only females." He glanced at Pluck and added, "At least ones like yourself." He looked over Virago and Flaxen and said, "We'll take her." He pointed to the Princess as he spoke, "And we'll put it to a match. One of you versus me. If I, Gar win, we take her. You win we leave in peace."

"What?" Virago screamed. "NO... No! No! You cannot do that." She looked at Lord Caliber and Avarice for protection.

"That is an outrage," Lord Caliber declared, stomping his wolf-head staff.

Gar glared at the tall man with the long inky-black goatee and told him, "That or we take her now." He looked at the sky and said, "I, Gar, give you one nal to find your champion and tend to your wounded then the match will begin."

He motioned to the Dreadgons, they headed into the jungle, and the ground shook as they left.

"Quickly," Ardor shouted to Sinew and Fracas. "Help me with the commander."
Chapter Thirteen

The Beast Revealed

Sinew, Fracas, and Parry helped carry Han to his tent and laid him on his cot. Edward, Melee, and Pluck followed behind. Many High Guards gathered to see their fallen commander. Virago stomped in with Flaxen in pursuit.

"Now may not be the best time, my lady," Flaxen warned.

Virago ignored her and questioned, "How can you allow them to take me?" She grabbed the Prince's arm and told him, "You cannot permit this."

Edward looked into her blue eyes, seeing her fear. At first, she had been an object, a possession for him to obtain to gain the Emperor's crown but now that she was his, Edward felt a sense of responsibility and a sense that he must protect her. Could this be love?

"I shall not let them," Edward told her as he squeezed her hand. "I would die first."

Virago saw compassion in the Prince's face and this surprised her, so she quieted her tantrum. "I believe you," she said as she smiled and remembered what awaited her. "But how can we stop the Dreadgons? They are so strong."

"Please..." Ardor snapped as he couldn't handle her whining while Han lay near death. He motioned for the High Guards to leave as he said, "There are too many in here." All but Melee and Pluck left as Ardor looked at the Princess but said nothing.

"Maybe it best if we also..." Virago started as she glanced at the Fletching Commander. "He needs to be near those he loves."

She and Flaxen left.

Pluck couldn't hold back, knelt by the commander's side, and started, "Han..."

He looked into her face shadowed by the hood. A candle on a stand near his head gave enough light that he saw a tear stream down her furry face. Han told her, "Quiet child, I shall be fine."

She looked over his battered body and spoke, "I'm afraid..."

Ardor never heard the commander speak with such affection. What was the Northern High Guard doing? This wasn't how a soldier acted.

Han interrupted Pluck and told her, "There is nothing to fear, child." He touched her wet cheek with the back of his hand, feeling her soft face. Before his eyes, she had grown into this amazing woman. She was like his daughter, and he feared for her. Han rested his arms at his sides, looked up at the tent, and closed his eyes, knowing his end was near. He couldn't leave things as they were, so he told her, "I believe it is time."

Avarice, Vim, and Lord Caliber entered, disrupting Han's explanation.

Lord Caliber walked with his staff across the dirt floor as he questioned, "Who among us can face these monsters and triumph?" He stopped in the middle of the tent as the Morgog Commander and Vim joined him. "We must save the Princess. All shall be lost if she is taken."

Ardor turned to them and his face was red with rage as he asked, "What about you Avarice? It was your men who stole the eggs, and it is your Princess who is in peril."

Vim tensed, stepping forward to verbally come to his commander's defense, but Avarice stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. The Morgog Commander laughed at the Fletching's notion. Avarice's cowardice shocked Vim. Vim knew the Fletching spoke the truth; a Morgog should be the champion.

Outraged by his laughter, Ardor leaped for the Morgog Commander, but Melee held him back. Ardor yelled, "Fass! Let go of me!" He calmed down and ordered, "I am fine. Release me." Ardor straightened his red cape and his rapier's frog, and then he proclaimed, "I shall face Gar."

"No," Han said as he moved and cringed, forcing himself to speak, "Pluck shall be our champion."

"Commander?" Ardor spat, stunned by Han's decision. "But I–"

"Why me?" Pluck asked also surprised.

"It is time, time you showed the others," Han told her as he squeezed her glove. "You are the only one among us with the strength, speed, and–" He motioned to the Lux strapped to her back and added, "–weapon to defeat the Dreadgons."

"We all saw what the brutes are capable of," Melee told her as he stepped forward. "If Pluck is to face the Dreadgons, he must rid himself of all loose clothing."

Her eyes widened at the thought.

Han squeezed her glove again and told her, "It is time. No more hiding."

Hiding? Ardor stared at Pluck. He had been right, but what did the Northern High Guard hide?

Avarice laughed, and then he said, "If he's our champion, we best prepare to flee with the Princess when your High Guard is defeated."

Melee glared at the Morgog Commander and told him, "If Han says Pluck can defeat Gar, then he can." He snarled as he questioned, "Now who is the coward? Ready to flee?"

Avarice didn't respond only scowled.

Why didn't the commander take up the sword against the Dreadgon? Vim was willing... but he knew that, so there had to be something the commander wasn't telling him.

Han looked at the Morgog Commander and told him, "Avarice, if you and Lord Caliber could give us some privacy, we need to prepare for the match."

Avarice nodded and added with a smirk, "I need to prepare for our escape."

He, Vim, and Lord Caliber walked out.

Lord Caliber leaned to the Morgog Commander, whispering, "A pity their most experienced soldier has fallen. I do not think he shall survive the night."

"Yes," Avarice replied as he added, "A pity." He waited till they were outside, excused Vim to see to their men and once his Second was out of earshot, he asked, "What of our plans? If Edward isn't the one, then who? And what of the Dreadgons?"

"The Dreadgons may be a surprise, but they shall fit in very nicely."

"What do you mean?" Avarice asked.

"I believe these large beasts shall uncover the one we seek," Lord Caliber stated. "The one I have been telling you about since we left the Morgog Kingdom."

"I remember, someone with the scent of magic."

"Yes, and just you wait..." Lord Caliber stroked his thin goatee as he said, "It shall soon be revealed."

Inside the tent...

"Pluck," Edward started and she turned, rising to face him.

The Prince witnessed her skills when they fought Matt and his thugs. She was savage yet talented; he doubted anyone else could stand up to the Dreadgons. He had to make her understand that without Virago there would be no Amalgamation. He examined his heart and believed he had grown to... Edward stumbled over his thoughts since love wasn't a verb used in his family. He liked the Princess and she must be saved. He put his hands on Pluck's shoulders.

She tensed as he touched her. Very few people had touched her since her birth, though Pluck yearned for affection. She relaxed under his firm grip.

He caught a glimpse of her emerald feline eyes and then spoke to her, "I know you are afraid, but I need you to fight."

"I understand, but do you know what you are asking?" Pluck inquired as she pulled her hood closer to her face.

"Yes, I understand. I–"

"No," she interrupted. "I don't think you do. If I am to fight, I must remove my cloak." She whispered, "Everyone will know what I am. You know their reactions. Are you prepared to stand up for me?"

Edward thought about it. She was right. The Fletching people would be outraged and the Morgog's... He straightened and told her, "I am prepared to stand up for you if you save my wife."

Wife... The word cut at her heart. How could Pluck fight to save the Princess when she feared Virago would receive the Kiss. Pluck inhaled and exhaled slowly, and then she said, "I'll do this if you will honor what you promised me in the Mystic Rose's Temple. Do you remember your pledge?"

Edward's brow wrinkled with wonder.

"The Kiss," Pluck told him as she scrutinized his face, looking for the slightest hint of deception. She would fall apart if he lied to her. She told him, "That day you promised me the Kiss."

Han couldn't believe it; she'd never told him what it was that would end her curse and all along it was the Kiss. Would Edward give it to her? Had he already given it away? It wasn't a light request. No wonder Pluck never told him.

"The Kiss?" Edward uttered as his mouth gaped. "The Kiss!" He couldn't see her face within the shadow of her hood, but he remembered the horror of it. Edward shuddered at the thought of touching his lips to hers as he said, "But I..."

Was the Northern High Guard mad? Ardor couldn't understand what was going on. Pluck couldn't...

"Would you deny me this?" she questioned as the Prince's disgust and refusal outraged her. "It's the only thing that will end my curse." She shouted, "For all I have done for you..." Pluck calmed herself, and then she told Edward, "This is all I ask. Is it too high a price to save your wife or is it something you have already given away?"

Outside...

"My Lady," Flaxen whispered as she and Virago stood behind Han's tent, listening to the conversation within. "We should leave before we are caught."

"Nonsense. I am the Princess. Even if we are caught, what are they going to do?" Virago questioned as they hid among stacked crates, and then she ordered, "Quiet, Edward is talking. He is urging one of his men to fight for me." Virago said with disappointment, "Now I cannot hear them."

Flaxen leaned in to hear better and told her, "The Northern High Guard is requesting a reward for his bravery."

"What reward?" Virago asked.

Flaxen strained to hear, and then she replied, "A kriss."

"A kriss," the Princess repeated, and then she questioned as the unusual word rolled off her lips again, "What is a kriss?"

"No, that is not it. The Prince is repeating it," Flaxen said, and then her eyes widened as she uttered, "Surely not."

Virago asked as she squeezed Flaxen's hand, "What is it?"

She turned to the Princess and told her, "I believe the High Guard has requested a kiss."

"A kiss?" Puzzled that a man would request such a thing from another man, Virago made a face and then questioned, "Edward has denied him, yes?"

Flaxen leaned closer to the tent and then replied, "Not yet; they are still discussing this."

Inside the tent...

"No," Edward told Pluck as he straightened. "I would do anything to save my wife, so I shall bestow upon you the Kiss and to answer your other question, no I have never given it away."

She was relieved there was still a chance, but Pluck feared he would betray her, so she told him, "Swear it as Prince of Fletching and soon to be Emperor of the Five Kingdoms."

Edward paused, and then he said, "I swear. Now please, be our champion."

Pluck couldn't bring herself to trust him, so she asked him, "Will you protect me when the others find out what I am?"

"Yes, yes," he insisted. "Now please be our champion?"

Outside...

"I am afraid, my lady, that the Prince has sworn to give the Northern High Guard the Kiss if he wins," Flaxen stated and then she bit her lip, knowing the Princess wouldn't respond kindly.

"That is not right," Virago exclaimed in a quiet tone. "I thought I had married..." She rubbed her temples as she said, "Wait till my father hears about this."

"Come, my lady," Flaxen told her as she peeked over the crates. "Several High Guards are moving this way."

Virago sighed and then stated, "My kingdom for a straight man."

Inside the tent...

Pluck hesitated, trusting Edward. Han squeezed her hand, and she looked down at him.

Han strained to talk as he asked her, "Who raised you and trained you like you were my son?"

"You did Han," Pluck answered as she knelt beside him.

Jealousy rose in Ardor. He was Han's Second, so he should be the one at his side.

Han continued, "Then do this for me." He looked into her face and said, "Swear to me you shall be our champion." He squeezed her arm as Pluck wavered out of fear, and he told her, "Swear it, child."

"I swear it, Han. I swear," she said as tears streamed down her face. Pluck was unable to bear seeing him in pain and without a healer, there was nothing anyone could do, not even to ease his suffering. She pleaded, "Don't leave me."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot promise," Han told her and then heaved a great sigh. "Already my body is growing cold."

"No!" Pluck screamed as she couldn't hold back her emotions, and then she cried, "No, don't die. Don't leave me alone." She gently laid her head on his shoulder as she told him, "You are all I have left."

"Stand up, soldier!" Ardor commanded as he couldn't watch this ridiculous scene play out any longer. "This is no way for you to act."

Ardor grabbed Pluck and she turned as her eyes flashed green with anger in the darkness of her hood. Filled with rage, Pluck hissed at him like a cat.

Frightened by what he saw and heard, Ardor stepped back as he uttered, "Crell! What are you?"

"Pluck... Ardor..." Han yelled as he chastised them, and then he shivered and continued, "This is no way for either of you to behave. Now Pluck, it is time. Let me once more see you as you are." He smiled as he told her, "For soon you shall be whole again."

She stood, glanced at Ardor and Melee, and then she requested, "Please, send the others away."

"No, they shall soon know," Han told her and smiled again to reassure her. "Let them see."

Pluck shrunk, nervous and apprehensive of how they would react. No one besides Han, Fairah, and Edward had seen her beastly form.

"Go on, child. You are among friends," Han said to coax her.

For Han, she did and Pluck lowered her hood, unclasped her cloak, and threw it on a nearby chair. She turned to Ardor and Melee, waiting for their reactions.

Ardor stumbled back and shouted, "By Fletching!" His face tightened in terror, and he instinctively went for his rapier.

"Stow that sword!" Han commanded.

Ardor reluctantly sheathed his blade, realizing this was Pluck's horrible secret. The Northern High Guard... his rival... was a beast and a frightful one at that with emerald eyes that pierced his soul, long white canines, a flowing fiery-crimson mane like a Fire Lion, and beige fur. Fur... He hated what he saw. This was no man but a beast and an abomination that must be destroyed.
Chapter Fourteen

The Match

Pluck dared not breathe as Ardor drew his sword on her, and he started to attack her till Han stopped him. The tent closed in on her, trapping Pluck and she wanted to flee, but where could she go?

Melee tilted his head. His reaction to Pluck was calmer than Han's Second as he exclaimed, "He's a woman."

"What do you mean woman?" Ardor yelled. "Don't you see he's... it's a beast!" He paced the tent, gesturing angrily with his hands as he questioned, "How could you have kept this from me... your men? This..." He pointed to Pluck and said, "This abomination should never have been allowed to walk among us and yet it wears the High Guard insignia." He punched one of the large wooden poles holding up the tent, and his knuckles reddened from the impact as he cursed, "Fass! For all we know Pluck's a Necrom."

She bowed her head ashamed. Ardor reacted as she imagined. He hated her with a passion.

"He's a woman," Melee repeated still stunned.

"That's enough!" Han shouted as his face paled as he grew weaker, but he mustered the strength to glare at his Second and told him, "You know nothing."

"He is right," Edward added in a gentler tone. "When we were children, I angered a witch. She would have vexed me if Pluck had not pushed me out of the way and taken the curse. Could you imagine me ruling as the thing you see?"

Edward's words shocked Pluck. He also saw her as a monster; Edward must think her a horrible and ghastly thing to behold. No wonder he reacted as he did when she asked for the Kiss.

The Prince continued, "You must understand, she saved the Fletching Kingdom, and I owe her a great debt."

"And so do I," Han added. "We the High Guards were not there to protect the Prince, but Pluck a nine seasons old child was." He shivered as he held his side, he glanced at the dark blood on his palm, and then he commanded, "I don't want you to disrespect her again, am I clear?"

Ardor's rage faded. Perhaps he was wrong... He remembered the stories his grandfather told him of the time before the Five Kingdoms and how the Necroms nearly destroyed man. Ardor searched Pluck's face and its beastly guise, seeing only what he had been taught to despise; it was a Necrom. How could he forget? Ardor exploded with loathing as he yelled, "I'm not wrong! It's an abomination. Nothing you say or it does shall ever change my mind!" Desperate for Han to see what he already knew, Ardor knelt beside Han and told him, "You are my commander, and I would die for you, but you have done us all a great dishonor. It's a mistake to have it here." He stood and warned him, "Wait till the Morgogs find out, then you shall know hatred." Ardor turned from Han and said, "I am ashamed; I am greatly ashamed you took this Beast and taught it the High Guard way. I cannot be in here any longer."

He stormed out, fearing he would spill blood if he stayed.

Pluck turned to Edward, fighting back tears as she asked him, "Are you sure you can protect me? Your own men are against me."

"Not all of us," Melee spoke up as he stepped forward. "It does not matter who or what you are. You are a High Guard, one trained by Han, and that makes you my brother... er... sister." He grabbed his hilt and swore to her, "You shall have my steel if you need it."

She told him, "Thank you, the others won't be as kind."

The ground shook, and Melee went to the tent entrance and told them, "The Dreadgons are back."

Pluck turned to the Prince and said to him, "I'll be out soon. Could you give me a moment with Han?"

Edward nodded and exited with Melee.

She knelt at the commander's side and started, "There's so much I want to tell you and yet I don't know where to begin." She wiped her runny panther nose and then continued, "You've been more than a mentor to me. You've been my father. I don't want to fail you, and I don't want to lose you. You're all I have."

"Pluck, you must be strong. My life is near its end. Watch over Edward. Much danger lies ahead of him and please forgive Ardor. He feels betrayed but once he sees who you really are, he shall come around." He gripped her arm as he warned her, "Watch out for the Morgogs. They can be treacherous."

Two High Guards walked in and waited by the entrance. They were shocked to see a Beast within, but they said nothing, seeing that Han spoke with it.

"It is time," Han said. "Save our Princess."

Pluck kissed him on the cheek, stood, grabbed her cloak from the chair, unclasped her High Guard pin from it, and attached the charging Black Elk to her shirt. Pluck smoothed her hand over it as she said out loud to give herself courage, "If nothing else, I am a High Guard."

She headed out, and the two soldiers gasped again but didn't say a word as she passed them. Her heart pounded as if it would burst through her chest. They knew a beast walked among them, and she could never take that back.

* * *

Edward walked from the tent to where the High Guards gathered. Parry, Sinew, Fracas, Bulwark, and Von were among them. Ardor stood off by himself; his face was red with anger and shame. Quip climbed a grouping of rocks to get a better view as Gar, Tusk, and the Dreadgons waited at the edge of the camp. Edward approached them with Melee.

"Do you have a champion?" Gar asked.

"Yes," Edward answered. The whole ordeal troubled him since so much depended on Pluck. Could she save his wife? Could he manage to give her the Kiss once she won? She was a horrible sight to behold and he didn't know if... He couldn't worry about that now, first Pluck had to win. What would they do if she didn't? Avarice said he would make plans for their escape if Pluck failed, but Edward saw no such plans as he glanced around the camp. For Virago's sake, he hoped the plans were well hidden.

"I, Gar, have selected a spot for our duel," he stated, then motioned for the Prince to follow, and Edward did as the Dreadgon walked to a grassy area not far from the camp. "This is where the match will take place."

Virago and Flaxen watched from a distance. They and their escort walked to Han's tent as the group moved off to the grass. The Princess had to watch the fight that would determine her future.

"Has it begun?" Virago asked as dread filled her heart.

"I do not believe so," Flaxen answered. "I do not see the High Guard champion."

Pluck walked out, glanced at them, bowed, and spoke a greeting, "Princess Virago... Lady Flaxen..."

She continued past them and stopped, watching those gathered in the circle. She grabbed her freed tail, stroking it apprehensively, fearing what would happen next. Pluck felt the stares of the Princess and her escort, knew the stress would only get worse, and dreaded making her appearance more than she feared facing the Dreadgon. She took a deep breath and headed for Gar.

Her quick appearance out of the tent startled Virago and Flaxen. The Princess' guards drew their swords, surrounding the Princess.

"Fires of Morgog!" one of the Sentinels shouted.

"Did you see that?" Virago uttered as she grabbed Flaxen's arm. "A beast! And it spoke my name. What is it after?"

Flaxen watched the creature with the mane of fiery-crimson as it walked through those gathered to face the Dreadgons. "Oh, my..." she exclaimed.

"What is it?" Virago demanded.

"I believe that creature... that hairy beast is our champion. See it wears the High Guard uniform," Flaxen told her as she noticed it had breasts. "And I do believe it is a female." Flaxen paused and then said, "If this is true, it is the one who requested the Kiss."

"How dare it?" Virago declared as she made a disgusted face. "I believe I prefer Edward kissed a man; I believe I prefer he kissed a hundred men."

In the grassy area...

Gar glanced around those gathered, demanding, "Where is your warrior?"

"I'm here," Pluck proclaimed.

Morgogs and High Guards parted as they realized what was among them. The soldiers and sailors murmured, surprised and confused.

"Phraggs! What is it?" a Fletching sailor asked.

"Crell! It's a Necrom," a Morgog Footsoldier proclaimed. "We must destroy it!"

"That thing has Pluck's sword," Parry said as he pointed out the weapon. "But where is he? Has it devoured him?"

"I am here, Parry," she answered. "I have always been here." Pluck continued to the Dreadgons and then questioned Gar, "What are the rules of this match?"

"Simple, the first one to yield loses."

"What do you mean? It is not to the death?" Avarice spoke, and then he commented to his men, "It should be and then at least one filthy beast would die."

The soldiers murmured their agreement. Avarice looked at Lord Caliber then back to Pluck and the Dreadgon.

The Morgog Commander whispered, "It seems you were right about the Dreadgons. They have revealed the magic one."

Lord Caliber replied, "I knew I smelled sorcery; it is the enchantment of the Mystic Rose. Perhaps Pluck is the one the Rose bonded with and if so, we are one step closer to achieving our goals." He looked worried as he glanced at the Dreadgons, and then Lord Caliber said, "That is if she wins this match. We cannot allow the Dreadgons to take the Princess. Are your men in position if the Beast Woman should fail?"

"Yes, everything is ready."

Edward stepped toward the Dreadgons and asked them, "How do we know you shall keep your word and leave peacefully if we win?"

"I, Gar, have given my word," he replied as he turned to his comrades. "If I should go against it, they will harshly deal with me." Gar faced Pluck and told her, "I have never faced a female of your kind in battle. This should make an interesting match." He smacked his spiked club on his palm and asked, "Are you ready?"

Of her kind? Pluck looked over his monstrous gray form. His three sallow eyes peered at her, expressing his determination as drool frothed around his square lips and yellow tusks. He was a presence to fear.

"Yes," Pluck answered, unstrapping her scabbard. She unsheathed the Lux and thunder rumbled from the blade, warning those who would oppose it. She drew strength from its power, threw the scabbard aside, and then said, "Begin."

Tusk and the other Dreadgons backed away as Gar twirled his club as he loosened up. His hog nose twitched with his zest to fight as his wide bare chest bulged with muscles. He struck suddenly and with great force, slamming his spiked weapon upon her. Pluck lifted her sword and blocked his attack as his weight and strength bore down on her. Her arms shook under his pressure. Gar lifted his weapon, swinging to bat her away, but Pluck ducked, rolling to the Dreadgon's feet. She struck at his unprotected ankles. He quickly lifted his leg, evading her attack, and then Gar smacked her with his free hand, sending her across the grass. She landed hard and slid. Pluck coughed on sand and dust, sat up, wiped her bloody lip, and stood.

Gar laughed as he spoke, "Thought we were slow because of our size. You should never underestimate your opponent."

He charged, slamming into her like a Desert Bull, and the force hurled her into the crowd of men, knocking several of them to the ground. Pluck rose to one knee, dazed, and looked around at those gathered. Many of them glared at her like they wished they were the ones trying to kill her. She dragged herself to her feet.

"Do you yield?" Gar asked. "Surely you know you're outmatched. Give up now before you're hurt any further." He pointed his club at the men and told her, "I see how they stare at you. Why do you fight for their kind?"

"Do not give up!" Edward pleaded.

Pluck glanced at Princess Virago who had moved to the circle. The Princess and Flaxen cringed from her. What was she fighting for? Pluck had to remember or she would give up right there. She fought to end her curse and keep a promise to Han. She glanced around the circle and knew they would kill her if she lost, and Edward wouldn't be able to stop them. If she focused on that motive, then Pluck would be driven by fear. She focused on Han and the love she had for him and with new resolve, Pluck stuck her sword in the ground, removed her gloves, and kicked off her boots. She no longer needed them, and she may need her claws.

Pluck drew the Lux from the sand and declared to the Dreadgon, "I will not yield!"

She rushed upon him, leapt into the air, and came down on him with her sword. Gar lifted his club to block as the Lux flashed like lightning and then sliced through the wood. The spike-covered end of the weapon fell to the sand, and the Dreadgon stared at his club astonished. Pluck landed, slapping a palm down to absorb the force, and then she stood, tail twitching her eagerness to attack again. Gar threw what remained of his club at her. She quickly dodged it, rolled to her feet, and rushed upon him as he barreled his hand down on her. She evaded, slicing her sword across his ankle. Gar howled, then brought his other hand down, and smashed her, and the force nearly knocked her out. She laid there motionless as Gar stumbled back from his injury. Tusk stepped up and supported his comrade.

Gar snorted and then questioned, "Do you yield?" He gritted his teeth as green blood trickled down his ankle.

She didn't reply.

"Do you yield?" he asked again as he hobbled on one foot.

Pluck moved her left hand from underneath her belly, swiped it across the sand, and felt how warm the granules were under the sun. She sucked in needed air which made her side hurt and with intense pain, Pluck pushed off the ground, used her sword as a crutch, and rose to one knee. Red blood ran from her eyes and mouth. Her vision blurred as she scanned the crowd. Most of their faces hadn't changed except for Virago and Lady Flaxen. They realized if she lost the duel then the Princess would be taken.

"Do not give up," Flaxen pleaded for her Princess.

Pluck turned to Edward and saw his eyes were filled with concern, but it wasn't for her. It hurt Pluck to see his regard was only for his wife; it hurt her worse than the pain stabbing at her body. She was ready to give up and yield when she heard a voice.

"Pluck..."

She turned and saw two High Guards carry Han out on his cot. Her self-pity melted away as she saw the man she considered her father come out to her. The two High Guards gently set him down as Han urged her, "Pluck... Fight... You cannot give up."

Her self-pity turned to love intermixed with bitter sorrow. Tears streamed down her face as she cried for her pain and the pain that Han endured to come out to her. She knew he loved her and that love gave her strength to stand. Pluck rose unsteadily to her feet as she yelled, "I will not yield! Never!"

"Can you go on?" Tusk asked Gar as he looked at his injured foot.

"Yes, just remind me what I'm fighting for."

"Look," Tusk told him as he motioned to the Princess. "You're fighting for that fair one. She'll be our cook and clean for us. No more eating raw or boiled eggs for surely she knows many recipes."

Gar licked his lips as he said, "Let me see if I can stand on my own. I can." Tusk handed him a new club, but he refused it as Gar reminded him, "No, only what we bring to the match." He hobbled toward the Beast Woman as he mopped sweat from his massive hairy forearms and hunched back with his hand. He flexed his muscles and made fists as he warned her, "These are like hammers. I may not have a club, but I can still kill you."

Pluck didn't reply as she wiped the blood from her mouth. She stared at the Dreadgon with her emerald feline eyes and bolted for him. Gar didn't expect such speed. He swung his fist and the other and missed her as Pluck climbed up his leg and around on his back. She grabbed his ear and placed her sword under his chin. The blade cut into his thick gray skin and green blood trickled down.

"Do you yield?" she asked, affirming her hold on him.

"Crell!" Gar shouted and then he answered, "Yes. You have won. We'll leave."

She released him and slid to the ground and nearly collapsed to her feet. She took a few moments to rest, and Pluck felt a little stronger and wasn't as wobbly on her legs.

Gar hobbled off with Tusk's assistance and the other Dreadgons followed.

Tusk told Gar, "This means we'll have no cook."

"Yes, I know," Gar answered.

"This means we'll only have boiled eggs."

"Actually," Gar corrected him. "We'll have nothing. You've forgotten these creatures ate our eggs."

Virago rushed to Edward and questioned him, "Is it over?"

He embraced her as he told her, "Yes, my love. You are safe."

Once the Dreadgons vanished into the jungle, Avarice looked at Lord Caliber and stormed into the circle as if on cue and began his performance. He inquired, "What is the meaning of this? Has a Beast walked among us this whole time?"

"It is a Necrom," Lord Caliber declared, pointing his wolf-head staff accusingly. "We all know the story of the Second Age of Magic and how the Necroms nearly destroyed Man. Our forefathers told us if the Necroms ever found our new home they must be destroyed or they would destroy us."

Many from both sides murmured, agreeing with Avarice and Lord Caliber.

Pluck said nothing in her defense as she looked at Edward and saw his face hardened with contemplation. She feared he would leave her to the wolves of mistrust and hatred, and Pluck feared he would betray her. A voice rose above the others when it seemed no one would come to her aid.

"Would you murder our hero?" Han asked. "Would you slay the one who just saved our Princess from untold horrors?"

The men grew silent as they all considered the Fletching Commander's words.

"Pluck is not a Necrom. She is like us only cursed," Han informed them, and then he coughed up more blood in his hand. He wouldn't let that stop him, and he ordered, "All of you back to your work. There is still much to do."

The Fletching people moved off as Avarice nodded and the Morgogs departed. Edward and Virago left the circle, making their way to his tent. Flaxen followed them and Melee paused from following his Prince as Pluck walked to the Fletching Commander.

Han praised her as he said, "Well done. Come, let someone tend to your wounds."

No one volunteered so Melee stepped forward and said, "I will tend to Pluck if someone will man my station."

Han nodded and ordered a High Guard to take Melee's place.

Lord Caliber and Avarice moved toward their tent, and he drew close and whispered to Avarice, "I saw her fingers. Pluck bears the marks of the Mystic Rose."

Avarice stated, "Then that part of our mission is completed." He stopped, studied the crowd, and headed into his tent along with Lord Caliber as he added, "Soon we begin the next phase and after Han is dead, I see no one who shall hinder us."

Back near the grassy area, Quip climbed down from the rocks as he muttered to himself, "Me not like people's stares and since Pluck not wear cloak, people hate." He scampered over into an empty hole he'd made his nest and grabbed his sack. "Me think time me left. Bad mood here." He scurried into the jungle as he muttered, "No good come."
Chapter Fifteen

The Kiss

Han called many into his tent for his final hour. Pluck stayed to the back as Melee cleaned and applied ointment to her cuts and scrapes. The Lux which had proven itself an invaluable weapon leaned on a crate beside her. The High Guards stayed clear of her and only Ardor and Fracas glanced at her. Ardor with a hate-filled stare, and Fracas with a bewildered look. The Second turned from her disgusted and knelt by his commander.

Han tried to clear his dry throat, then one of his men gave him water, and he began, "I have asked all of you here to bear witness." All color had gone from his face, and his voice was weak as he continued, "My time's short so I must appoint another to take my place." He struggled to breathe but pressed on. "One worthy of your leadership." He searched the faces of those standing around him and then ordered, "Pluck, come forward."

Ardor glanced at the Beast Woman. Han couldn't; he couldn't place it in charge!

Pluck knelt by Han's side next to his Second, sensing Ardor's glare. The sand was dry and cool beneath her, but not cold enough to quench the hate bearing down on her. Pluck scratched her cat ear. She couldn't see herself taking command; it would be too much.

"Pluck," Han started, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I place you second in command to Ardor who shall lead my men. This is my wish and one I beg all of you to honor."

No one dared grumble their disdain.

Pluck sighed, relieved for she couldn't endure any more pressure. She looked into Han's face as life slipped from his shaky grasp. Pluck turned her gaze to the floor. He couldn't leave her, not alone and not at this time when so many hated her. It was too much for her to bear.

Ardor noticed the Beast's relief but that didn't change his opinion of it.

Han continued, "My Second." He waited for Ardor to look at him and in great pain, Han continued, "There is no one else I would have take charge of my High Guards. I know you shall be a great leader." He gasped for air, struggling to finish. "Heed Pluck's advice as I heeded yours. This is my wish that you put aside superstition and hatred and judge the actions and the heart of this woman before you." Han raised his voice and told them, "This is my wish for all the High Guards."

Ardor yelled at him, "You can't... you cannot appoint this beast as my Second!"

Han didn't answer for a long time. Why couldn't Ardor get past the bigotry of his fathers? Han told him, "I can and I have. There are witnesses, and the Creator has heard my voice." He closed his eyes and opened them and his face was full of anguish. "These are my wishes. Abide by them."

Han stared at Ardor and Pluck. They were now the hope of Fletching. He let out a great sigh and his chest rose no more.

"No! Change your wishes. Make another my Second," Ardor shouted as he shook Han, but his commander didn't move as his eyes glazed over. "NO!" Ardor yelled. "Don't die! Don't leave things like this."

Pluck lifted her head as tears streamed down her furry face. She couldn't believe he'd passed on. Han lived life to its fullest and now he was an empty shell. "Goodbye my friend... my father," she whispered as her lip quivered and then she wiped her eyes.

A great rift formed long ago between her and the world; it was one Han had bridged, but with him gone... Who would keep her connected to humanity? She looked at Ardor as he wept on the commander's chest. Pluck knew it didn't matter what she said to him. Ardor would always hate her. Why did Han put her in second command? Why did he leave her alone to face the people's hatred? She kissed her mentor's hand, stood, and walked out of the tent as the High Guards paid their respects.

Everything around her felt unreal like none of it was happening. The background blurred in her mind as did the glares of the men. She looked at her fur covered hands. Pluck was tired of her beast form, and it was time Edward honored his pledge and gave her the Kiss. She glanced at Han's tent as she couldn't stand knowing animosity surrounded her and no place was safe. Pluck grabbed her tail and stroked it. The only one who loved her as she was was dead, and she feared she would die too if she didn't return to normal.

Pluck walked up to Edward's tent and two men stood guard without. One was a High Guard and the other a Morgog. She passed them and went into the tent, finding no one within the first section. Many emotions swirled around in her as she made her way to where Edward would be. He would give her the Kiss and release her from this accursed form and once that happened, there would be no more stares and no more glares of hatred. She would be a woman and everyone would accept her and one day someone would love her. Pluck went into the next section and as she stepped through the next tent flap she started, "Edward, I..."

She gasped as a horribly unfathomable sight knocked her back as if a dozen arrows struck her chest. In the third section and on the Prince's bed, Edward and Virago passionately kissed in the thralls of lovemaking. The jolt to Pluck's psyche knocked her back, and she couldn't utter a word. Edward had... her redemption... It couldn't be! The one thing Edward promised to her twice now and what would have freed her from her curse he carelessly gave to his wife as if Pluck meant nothing to him. It felt as though Edward thrust a sword through her heart and twisted it further in with each new embrace of his wife's lips. Virago had stolen her one and only hope, and Pluck would remain the Beast forever. She felt sick to the point of dying, and Pluck wanted to shriek at them.

Edward finally noticed her once he surfaced from his wife's warm and seductive embrace, and he uttered, "Pluck!" He sat up, realizing what he had done and stammered, "I... I..."

Pluck stood there as if chains bound her to that hellacious place and that horrid moment. Her life was over and there was nothing that would save her from her accursed fate. Why did Edward do it? Why did he give her redemption to another? She had to act. She had to take her revenge. Pluck had to do something because of the injustice inflicted upon her. What should she do? What should she do to them?

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### Shades Of Gray

### #1

### Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

### Kristie Lynn Higgins

SHADES OF GRAY: Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

Text Copyright © 2006, 2018 by Kristie Lynn Higgins

Cover Art Copyright © 2014

10th Anniversary Ebook Edition

02192018

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

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

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

www.KristieLynnHiggins.com

Introductions

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

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

Would they make the same mistakes as us?

Translated from the Assembled Works

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

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

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

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

The Pandora Project

Isaiah 5:30b

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

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

October 22...

Thursday...

4:44 A.M...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What has happened?" Mr. Morta inquired.

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

"Which one?" Mr. Decuma questioned.

"The Kraken Project," the male supervisor answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ms. Nona nodded and then Mr. Morta.

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

* * *

Level 159...

Sometime earlier...

The Pandora Project's view...

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

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

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

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

I take the bottled water and thirstily drink it down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why did we come in here?"

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

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

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

"What about you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why do you say that?"

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

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

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

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

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

"But what?" she asks.

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

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

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

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

"I..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's wrong?" he questions me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End the Pandora Project's view...

Sometime later...

Elsewhere in the Sanctum...

The Chamber...

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

"What of Pandora?" Mr. Morta inquired.

"Our soldiers believe she escaped from the Sanctum."

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

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

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

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

* * *

6:04 P.M...

In another part of the city...

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

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

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

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

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

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

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

Some distance from Etna Toys...

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

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But what?" Ms. Nona questioned.

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

Back at Etna Toys...

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

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

Within the Sanctum's Chamber...

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

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

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

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

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

The Pandora Project's view...

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

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

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

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

"Katharine..."

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

The note's signed by R.G.

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

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

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

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

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

End the Pandora Project's view...

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

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

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

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

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

The Rogue

6:43 P.M...

The Sanctum...

Within the dark Chamber...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back at Etna Toys...

Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

End Katharine's view...

Within the Chamber...

Mr. Morta cheered, "There!"

Analysts and supervisors high-fived each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At Etna Toys...

Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End Katharine's view...

Within the Chamber...

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

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

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

"Her?" the Council said in unison.

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

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

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

He returned to monitoring the analysts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kimberly Griffin

About one year later...

32 A.D.C...

October 12...

Tuesday...

7:59 P.M...

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

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

Kimberly's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He says, "Right, to business then."

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

"So why now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A Closing? Who?"

"Topa."

"Yes, I know him."

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

"What is?"

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

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

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

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

Mr. Griffin's view...

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

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

* * *

Kimberly's view...

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

Sometimes I...

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Making changes now."

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

Sometimes I wish...

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

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

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

Sometimes I wish...

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

Sometimes I wish...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

October 13...

Wednesday...

5:49 A.M...

Kimberly's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Standard operation?"

"Yes."

"Understood."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Topa's Estate

8:48 A.M...

On the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector...

Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

End Katharine's view...

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

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

Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katharine's view...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I won't tell you."

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

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

"Live like the others?" he questions.

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

"I won't..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enter The Life Closer

9:09 A.M...

The Sanctum...

Within the Chamber...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A female supervisor handed Ms. Nona a report.

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

"What is it?" Mr. Decuma asked.

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

"By our corporation?" Mr. Decuma questioned.

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

* * *

Kimberly's view...

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

I climb the cord to the top of the wall, drop down to the other side, and glance at my watch once I reach the ground. I'll have this Life Closing done within the hour if all goes well, and Topa will make the front cover again but the headline this time will read, "Found Dead."

I toss the thin climbing cord, grappling hook, and black knapsack in the corner and pile some leaves on the items to hide them, and then I check the tactical knife in a sheath strapped to my right calf. I quietly slip by the guards and make my way to his office. In the email Voice sent, the Closing File states Topa will most likely be there. The office is at the end of a long cobblestone path leading from the house. Black cast-iron lamps light the area, small pine trees grow along the path, and hedges line the last twenty feet of the walkway and around the office. I hide in the bushes underneath a window just left of Topa who's sitting. I glance in and see one henchman in a corner and my target busy at his mahogany desk. I place a silencer on a Walther PPK and stand to make my way in and finish this Closing quick and clean, but the front door opens. I duck back into the hedges, and the green-blue bushes rustle with my movement and then through the window, I watch as a second henchman walks into the room. He removes his WM-B and adjusts the mask's strap. Topa counts bundles of money and then places the stacks in a briefcase.

"This is payment for the Illicit Closer we hired to take out that nuisance on Wayfaring Lane," Topa relays as he finishes counting. "That do-gooder won't be hindering our sales of Sunna Snapps anymore."

"Why the cash, boss?" the second henchman questions. "Why not credits?"

"This cash can't be traced to me. Credits could be."

"Makes sense, boss."

I can't believe he hired an illegal assassin. I think people are really stupid when they take a chance by hiring someone who doesn't belong to the Assassins Guild. If Voice or Thanatos finds out, they'll kill him. I shrug as I decide in the scheme of things it doesn't matter now. Topa's Closing is today. What more can they do to him?

Topa shuts the briefcase and hands it to his second henchman as he orders him, "Also tell our contact at the Valhalla Corporation we'll be doubling our next order of Sunna Snapps now that business will be getting back to normal."

"Understood," the second henchman replies, then puts his Winnow Mask back on, takes the briefcase, and leaves through the back door.

Topa turns to the first henchman and tells him, "Ready my car. We're going into the Norse Sector."

The first henchman turns towards the window, so I duck down and after a few moments, I hear the door open and shut. I glance in the window, seeing that the muscle has left, so I again start to leave my hiding place. I can kill Topa before anyone comes back and be down with this Closing. I need to get some rest. I'm still tired from my last assignment. The front door opens before I leave my hiding spot, so I quickly duck back into the bushes. For Ares' sake! What's up with my luck today? All I want to do is complete this Life Closing and go home!

Katharine's view...

I enter and find Topa alone. His office smells of polished wood and has an old feel to it. Black and white photos of distinguished men who look related to him line the walls. I turn away from them. I can't let myself be distracted. I have to focus on my grim objective, and it's now or never. I have to eliminate the man who took Preacher from me. My gunhand shakes with indecision as it leans against my leg. I try to convince myself even my broken heart believes I have to commit this atrocious deed to atone for my failure to save Preacher.

Kimberly's view...

I peek through the window as I keep myself hidden, trying to figure out who the woman is. She could be a second Closer. I glower, a little irritated and duck back down. Did Voice send in backup? I never needed it. I think about it. I never needed it before Moscow. I cautiously glance through the window and study the woman, and she doesn't have the look of a Closer. Maybe she's a bodyguard.

Topa glances up when the door first squeaks open. He stares at her for a long time before he questions her, "How did you get in here?"

I see him press a button under his desk, triggering a silent alarm.

The woman raises her gun, aims it at him, and yells, "You must pay for what you did to Preacher!"

Maybe my luck has changed. Maybe this woman will take out Topa, and I can get out of here. I won't receive the full payment for this assignment if she does the deed for me but right now I don't care. I just want to go back to bed and sleep away this dreadful past week until it's far from my mind.

End Kimberly's view...

* * *

Within the Chamber...

Ms. Nona reported, "Argus is on the estate and has found Pandora in Topa's office. It is about to kill him."

"Good... Good... The Gamma Phase will finally be achieved when Pandora takes a life," Mr. Morta spoke as he beamed with pride, and then he inquired, "Where is the Closer?"

"Holding outside of the office," Mr. Decuma answered. "The Closer will not move with the unknown woman in the room."

"Finally..." Mr. Morta began as he considered all the hard work they had devoted to Pandora. "I have had such high hopes for this particular project. We have waited to achieve this pinnacle for one long year." With elated breath, he added, "Now we will witness Pandora's transformation as it completes the Gamma Phase."
Chapter Six

Preacher

Etymology, history and usage of the word puck...

Puck originally was the word for a mythological fairy or mischievous natured sprite. The meaning later expanded and emerged in slang around 300 B.D.C. in lands owned by the Druid Corporation. It referred to one's disdain for something. The word has taken on other meanings over the centuries and has been used cross-sectorally.

One year before Kat entered Topa's estate...

31 A.D.C...

October 26...

Monday...

3:15 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Old Business Vicinage...

Flickering street lights and neon signs cast a somber glow on Wayfaring Lane; it was a place where society's outcasts drudged out an existence. Many people lined the street, selling Transgenic Vegetables, used clothes, and canned food, and there were even people who dealt in flesh, Sunna Snapps, and/or stolen water rations. Huddled in a corner down a dead end alley, three dirty thin junkies shared a needle of Sunna Snapps. A man and a woman already shot up and were oblivious to their surroundings while the third rolled up his sleeve, injected the yellow liquid into his arm, and leaned back against the brick wall. His body warmed in the cool air as if he lay on a sunny beach and snaps of light appeared like he was seeing stars but larger and brighter.

A six-wheeled robotic Street Sanitizer the size of a small car rumbled down the potholed road past the alley. Nozzles in the front of it and the middle sprayed a cleaning agent. Scrubbing brushes just behind each set of nozzles scoured an oily residue on the road left behind by the Tainted Rain. A vacuum in the back sucked up the dark liquid and stored the polluted water in a large tank. The small vehicles kept the highways and byways from becoming cesspools and without the cleaners, Noir would come to a halt. The loud Street Sanitizer rumbled on, passing a Grub Filter sitting on the sidewalk against a building. The eight-foot square metal beast also known as a Grubby pulled in air, filtering out the petroleum-based pollutants caused by Dry Clouds. Usually, four Grubbies covered each block but this was Wayfaring Lane, they were lucky to have the one.

Evening approached as more people filled the street. Some wore Winnow Masks, marking them as recent immigrants to the Dark Half of the planet, but most of them didn't wear the air filters, having lived in Noir long enough for their lungs to become accustomed to the pollutants.

Katharine's view...

I stumble onto Wayfaring Lane, fleeing the Un-Man with the knife. The Un-Man attacked me four days ago and since then, it's been chasing me in a sadistic cat and mouse game. It came so close to killing me a couple of times already. I lost it a few hours ago and thankfully, it hasn't found me again. I know this because the Un-Man would have triggered my bio-mecha warning like the Un-Men had done when they first entered Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. These abilities that I have, they're unnatural. I can sense the presence of bio-mechas but more than that... the last day or two I've been having these flashes like I understand how they're thinking and working. It's so scary. I also seem to see my own body like I'm on the outside looking in. It's so weird and freaky. There has to be someone out there who can help me. I just need to find them, and then maybe they can put this nightmare to an end.

I pause at an alley wall and lean on it as I catch my breath. I can't stop running till I find a place that's safe, so I push through my exhaustion and run on. Blood cakes my left shoulder where one of the Un-Men's bullets grazed me, and dried plasma crusts the knife cut on my left forearm. Since waking at Etna, I've only eaten what food I scrounged from trash cans and slept only minutes at a time. Weariness and mental anguish are taking their toll on me. I think I'm near my breaking point.

Tired to the bone, I sprint down an obscure alley, trying to stay on my feet and not fall. I look over my shoulder as I splatter through puddles of Tainted Rain. The black water that smells of petroleum speckles my t-shirt and pants. I turn a corner and run into a man who's wearing a black trench coat. I stumble back and nearly fall, but I manage to put my hand out to the alley wall and steady myself. He says nothing to me only eyes me curiously like he's debating the best way to kill me so with a trembling hand, I raise my gun and aim at him.

"There's no need for that," he tells me. "I'm Argus and my job isn't to harm you."

Argus' view...

Pandora doesn't seem to understand me, and I notice its face shows fatigue and its hazel eyes, that mimic a human's, have the look of a lost puppy. Maybe it's too tired to understand me. The Factory has yet to recall or capture its wayward Un-Man. I don't believe Pandora has had any rest and even if it's a project, I don't know how long it can maintain such an unrelenting pace. It takes two steps back from me as if to bolt, so I quickly tell Pandora what I've been ordered to tell it.

"My employers the Council have some information for you," I say, taking a step forward, push the gun down to its side, and note Pandora's wounds, including the large bruise on its forehead. I tell it, "The Un-Man that the Factory sent after you, the Rogue, is no ordinary bio-mecha. There's a glitch in its programming. The Council wants you to be extra careful with it, and they also want me to inform you that the only way to defeat the Rogue is to reach the Delta Phase of your metamorphosis."

Katharine's view...

I have no clue what he's talking about, so I divert my eyes from his intense gaze, and I look at the sidewalk as if I'll find answers there. The world I've been thrust into is scary and confusing like a dark forest to a lost orphaned girl. All I want is for someone to help me. I smooth my hand over the stubble of my shaven head, trying to wrap my mind around what's happening to me. If I don't want to remain ignorant, I need to speak.

"You said the Council..." I begin. "I've heard that name before. Who are they?"

Argus starts to leave, but I desperately grab his wrist and plead with him, "Please tell me. You must at least know me. Please, tell me what my name is."

"You don't know your name?" he says as if he's surprised. "You're the Pandora Project." He grabs my other arm, turns my hand over, and places a 9 mm magazine in my palm. "If you want to survive the tests, never run out of ammo."

Argus turns to head down the street, and I can't let him go. He must be the someone I've been searching for to help me, so I shout after him, "Please! Don't leave me. Tell me what my real name is! There must be more... I must be more than a project."

He pauses as if my pleas have reached him, and he says, "I'm not here to kill you, but I'm also not here to help you. You're on your own. Though, it's regrettable you have no memory." He turns and looks at me with concern like one would peer at a crying infant, and then he speaks, "It must be very frightening not knowing why bio-mechas are trying to kill you." His expression softens for a split second and in that instance, I hope I see my knight, but then I realize the look he's giving me is one of pity as he informs me, "It's simple. You're being tested, and they're being tested." A black sedan pulls up, and he gets in as he tells me, "Know one thing... stay alive."

The car drives away from me as I stare at it unable to move. I don't want to be on my own. I want someone to help me and to make me feel safe like those arms... I see a flash or more like I feel warm gentle arms embracing me and cuddling me. I have felt safe before. I've felt protected from the monsters of this world.

I look at the car that's nearly out of sight, and the weight of what he told me hits me hard as if I've just received a death sentence from a judge. I can barely move my legs that feel like giant sandbags, so I slowly move over to a building, turn before fear and exhaustion causes my knees to buckle, slide down its rough wall, and land in a defeated lump.

"Someone help me," I whisper as I put my head on my knees, wrap my arms around myself, and rock back and forth. "Please, help me."

In the sedan...

Argus' view...

I remove my cell phone and make a call as the vehicle turns off of Wayfaring Lane.

"I have some new information for the Council," I start and wait until I'm patched in. "Pandora claims to have no memory of who it is and there does appear to be a wound on its forehead." I pause, listening to their reply. "Understood. I'll continue my surveillance and tell Pandora nothing about itself. As the Council wishes, so it will be done."

Back down the street...

Katharine's view...

I clench my gun, trying to understand things that seem unreal like I've been flung into a world that's not my own. Argus told me the Un-Men were sent by the Factory, that the one I can't destroy is called the Rogue, and that it's no ordinary Un-Man. The Factory knows who I am, but I don't know who or what they are. I also don't understand why they want me dead.

The coldness of the sidewalk chills my body, so I hug myself tighter as I continue to rock back and forth. I find little comfort in my own embrace and loneliness creeps up behind me and threatens to snatch what little hope I have left. Minutes go by, and I know what I'm doing won't help me and if I want to get out of this messed up situation, I have to focus on discovering the truth.

Argus said the Council wants me to be extra careful with the Rogue. It sounds like the Council's on my side but for some reason, I don't think that's true. I have to figure out what the Delta Phase is and what I'm supposed to turn into. They talk like I'm some sort of butterfly. I still don't understand why these horrible things are happening to me. Argus calls them tests and that I'm being tested and that the Un-Men are being tested, but what's the purpose of it all?

I lift my head and stare at the Dry Clouds in the dark sky. I need to get up and keep going, but I'm so exhausted. I'm tired of running and consider letting the Un-Man capture me, but then I decide against it. I'm more afraid of capture and what cruel things they'll do to me, so I slowly start to rise when panic sets in as my heart sounds the bio-mecha warning.

Ultra-Epi rushes through my veins as I stand and frantically look across the street and search for the relentless hunting machine. I eject the old empty magazine and with a shaky hand, I place in the new one. The e-field of my body alters as my eyes shimmer with blue electricity. Somehow, I know that the light coming from my eyes is called Ultra-Epi Light Emissions or Ult L-E.

The Rogue walks through a dark cluttered street lit by neon signs and street lights. The Type Four Model of Un-Man has short, brown, wavy hair and a pale chiseled face. Black smudges from Tainted Rain cover its brown suit. The Rogue passes three hookers and their pimp. I can sense that it knows I'm here, so I slowly walk away trying to blend into the background. I'm afraid if I run, the Rogue will spot me right away. I snailishly escape, but I can't seem to get the Rogue out of my mind. I see things that it must be seeing.

"Hey there, big guy," one of the women says, sizing up what she must think is a man. "Looking to party?"

"Yeah," another says. "Mr. Shades. What ya hiding behind those glasses anyway? Did yer old woman black yer eye?"

The Rogue turns to the second hooker, and its polarized spectacles reflect an XXX red neon sign as it questions, "Old woman? No, no old woman but if we party, I will show you what is behind them," the Rogue speaks as it removes its large knife, grabs her wrist as the other two women run off screaming, and then it says, "Let us party."

The hooker tries to pull away from the maniac waving a knife.

"Hey, none of that kinky stuff till we discuss a price," the pimp demands as he walks to them.

The Rogue punches him in the abdomen as it tells him, "Mind your manners. I am talking to the lady here."

The pimp grabs his stomach as he snarls, and then he pulls a small gun and threatens, "It isn't how things work here."

"How things work?" it questions and then still hanging on to the woman, the Rogue grabs the man's hand that holds the weapon, twists it, and breaks his wrist. It states, "This is how things work in my world."

The pimp cries out, drops the gun, collapses to his knees, and holds his wrist, screaming, "My hand! You broke my hand! Pucker!" he curses. "You're going to pay for this!"

I'm still fleeing in the other direction but stop as the pimp cries out again. I glance at my gun. Everything within me screams for me to escape while I have the chance, but one small voice tells me save them. The flow of the e-field increases, and the blue stage of the Ult L-E glows brighter as the voice grows louder in my thoughts. Save them.

The hooker, horrified by what she witnessed, tries to pull away and bolt but the maniac yanks her to him.

"Do not be rude and leave before the party has started," it says as it pulls her close and whispers, "Pandora. We have to wait for Pandora."

"Pandora? Sick mother-pucker! You can get yer freak on with someone else. Ya creep! Let me go, you pucker!" The woman screams, pulling against his hold and yells, "Let me go!"

I approach them, raise my gun, and aim for its forehead as the orange color of its dot-light changes to a fiery crimson. There's something different about this Un-Man, something deep within it that I can see and yet I can't see.

A wicked grin slithers across the Rogue's pale face as I tell it, "You can release her. I'm here."

"Ahh... Pandora..." The Rogue pauses, and then it asks, "Let her go? Why would I do that?"

"I'm your target. Why do you need to hurt anyone else?"

"Yours is a valid question," the Rogue states as it twirls the hooker around, wraps her up in its arms, and places its blade against her throat. The hooker whimpers as it continues, "I enjoy it, but bio-mechas are not supposed to feel anything so that makes me something special, does it not? I think that is why my creators are afraid of me and why they want to destroy me." The Rogue scans me, noting my fear and exhaustion. It also notices my eyes' bluish afterglow in the darkness of the day and that the light's not normal for a human. The Rogue tells me, "It is also the reason you want me dead."

"I don't want you dead. I just want you to stop hunting me!"

"I cannot," the Rogue replies as it examines every feature and minute scar on my face. It's creeping me out as it imprints them all to memory. "I am still a machine and at least for now, I cannot escape my programming."

I hate depending on the gun for my survival and try to talk my way out by saying, "Maybe your creators are afraid of you, not because you have feelings but because you have the potential to disobey your programming."

"You mean like you," the Rogue accuses me, and then it laughs. "You have done well so far to go against your own programming but no... For me, it is my potential for evil that they fear. I am sure of it." It cuts a tiny slit in the hooker's neck and makes her whimper louder as it asks, "But what would a machine know of evil? Am I not the product of my creators' hardware and software or was some other thing added to me that makes me different from the other bio-mechas?"

"I don't know. I only know you're hurting that woman," I answer as I start to pull the trigger.

The Rogue ducks behind the hooker so I have no shot as it demands, "Drop your gun or I will slit her throat. Do it!"

It cuts deeper into her neck, so I give in.

"Okay! Okay!" I utter as I place the gun on the sidewalk, making myself vulnerable to its malicious attacks. "Just don't hurt her!"

"Excellent," the Rogue speaks as it smirks and in that instance, I can't read it. It's like the Un-Man's blocking my ability to get inside its head.

"Now what?" I ask, not sure what my next move should be.

Panic sets in as I see the Rogue's grin spread out in a devious smirk, and it answers me, "Now you watch me kill her!"

Before I have a chance to utter no, a man comes up behind the Rogue.

"Hey!" the man shouts.

The Rogue turns as the man swings a metal bat, striking it in the head, and the Rogue stumbles back and releases the hooker. The attack knocks its polarized spectacles off, and the damaged frames fall to the street. I grab my gun and fire twice, but the Rogue with its lightning reflexes evades the bullets, and then it backhands the man, knocking him to the ground. It turns on me and freezes, but it's not looking at me, so I turn around and see a black van with tinted windows speeding our way.

The Rogue turns and flees down an alley, shouting as it runs, "It seems the Factory has tracked me down. We will finish this another day, Pandora!"

The hooker rushes over to the pimp and questions him, "Are ya all right? Oh, yer hand. Let's get ya to a hospital."

The black van speeds by us in their pursuit of the Rogue as the pounding of my heart lessens. I set the safety and tuck my gun in the back waistband of my pants. I wait till my irises lose their radiance before I walk over to the man. He rubs his bloodied mouth and looks up at me.

I offer my hand as I say, "Thanks."

"No problem," he tells me, grabs my wrist, pulls himself up, and then introduces himself, "The name's Preacher." He picks up his metal bat and glances into the alley the Rogue ran through. "That thing was no man. What was it?"

"They're called bio-mechas and that model is an Un-Man."

"They? There are more of them?"

"Yes, there are more," I answer and then mutter, "There are so many more."

"No kidding." He walks up to a stoop and picks up a white Bible as he comments, "Noir's getting wilder every day."

I move to the Rogue's broken polarized spectacles, pick them up, and peer through them. The lenses are mostly intact and intermediately fizz and crackle between green lettered readouts across tiny square screens. The polarized spectacles do more than hide their eyes, they relay tactical data from the Factory and from each other. I drop them to the sidewalk and crush them with my shoe in case the polarized spectacles carry tracking beacons, and then I start across the street.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Preacher asks as he jogs after me.

I turn as he places his hand on my shoulder, and then I repeat, "Where..? I... I don't know."

"Well, you look like you could use a meal and clean up a bit." He motions to the dried blood on my forearm and shoulder and adds, "And some first aid."

I stare at the thin scraggly man with shoulder-length stringy black hair. Preacher wears a worn navy blue t-shirt and broken black rim glasses taped in the front. His blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile catch my attention, and they make me feel safe and welcomed. Have I finally found my knight? I notice he's staring at me, and I blush.

Preacher waves his free hand like I've been looking at him as if he's some sort of weirdo, and he tells me, "I'm not being perverted or anything. I run a shelter, the Kitchen. It seems to me you've been on the go for a while, so I thought you might be hungry."

I nod as my stomach growls. I'd cry if I had the strength to. I think I've found my safe place.

"You aren't much for talking are you?"

I shake my head.

"Shy. That's okay. Come on. I believe grilled cheese and tomato soup are on the menu tonight."
Chapter Seven

Farewell My Friend

Seven months later...

32 A.D.C...

May 25...

Tuesday...

7:30 P.M...

Katharine's view...

A helicopter flies over Wayfaring Lane just beneath the looming Dry Clouds, and a gust sweeps up an old newspaper, tumbling it down the potholed blacktop as me and Preacher sit on a stoop in front of the Kitchen. We watch the people in the neighborhood as he tries to comfort me in his own way. Preacher once told me he's never seen someone so lonely or lost. He understands that we're from two different worlds but... Preacher still wants to understand me as desperately as I want to be apart of his life. What frustrates me the most is that my past, that keeps eluding me, just won't let it happen.

He glances at me and must notice how depressed I am. He rests his rough calloused hand on mine, and we sit there in silence for about twenty minutes. I try not to be so distant, and it's still hard for me to connect. There have been so few people who have been good to me, and he's top on the list.

"What are you thinking?" he asks me.

I start to answer but instead, I stare up at the ever-present nemesis of Noir. I've always wondered how something so fluffy and so soft looking could beat back the might of the sun; it's only another question on my endless list of questions. Since awakening in Etna Toys, I've discovered nothing about my past or why I'm hunted.

I glance at his hand. Usually, his touch makes me feel better but not today. Only answers will fill the hollowness of my soul, so I gently pull my hand away from his and rest my hand on my lap. I'll do almost anything to find some scrap of my past. If I can just find out if Kat's my real name and where I come from, I'll be happy. It hurts too much not knowing, and I don't think Preacher understands. He doesn't understand how frustrating it is and that in itself hurts. I'm alone in a void of uncertainty and because of that, I'm a stranger in our relationship, but I don't know why I haven't shared this with him. I guess I'm afraid he won't understand, and I don't think I can take it. I can't be alone in something else, so I haven't said anything.

When I don't answer his question, Preacher looks down at his Bible he always carries as if he's unsure of what to say. It's like he's searching for words that will comfort me, and then he finally tells me, "Katharine, don't you know there's more to this life than what you can see?"

I focus on the book he holds, and then I reply, "You have told me but still, there's something within me that wants to discover who I am." I stare at my worn shoes and speak softly, "And yet, there's this part that fears what I might discover."

I turn to him, hoping to find a sympathetic heart and a look of understanding to the uneasiness that haunts me, but what I find is Preacher peering at the street as his attention's drawn to a group of kids playing. He smiles... and I wonder if it's because he knows even in Wayfaring Lane children can find time to be children. When he doesn't notice my searching gaze, I turn my attention to the kids. I'd usually go play with them but today... so much is on my mind.

I frown, turn my attention back to my shoes, and then say almost in a whisper, "What if I'm a bad person? What if I've done terrible things?"

"We've all done bad things," he answers as he finally turns to me.

I lift my gaze back to him, searching once again for the sympathetic heart and the look of understanding, but all I see is that his expression saddens as if his statement was a reflection of his own life. I notice a red VX Corvette with the license plate FromAshes drives by with a blonde lady at the wheel before I once again divert my eyes to my worn shoes.

"I feel like I should be searching for something," I tell him, not sure he's really listening. I grab my backpack that's sitting beside me, unzip it, remove the worn note, business card, and the music box that was with me at Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse, and then I say, "I know these are clues to my past, but how do they fit?"

"Our Gracious Lord has a plan for you. I know it and in due time, he'll show it to you. You only need to be patient."

His words don't help me, and I wonder again if he's really listening as I say, "That's all I seem to have, but even my patience is running out."

Preacher grins and his blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile catch my attention once again. His warm expression makes me feel safe and gives me some hope; it gives me hope that my search won't be in vain. I no longer fear he's not listening to me as I lean over and lie my head on his shoulder. If only my life was always this peaceful, then...

* * *

Five months later...

October 12...

Tuesday...

10:11 P.M...

The day before Kat arrived at Topa's estate...

Katharine's view...

A car burns and then explodes, sending fiery shrapnel in all directions. Bullet holes litter the buildings, and the citizens of Wayfaring Lane run screaming for their lives as I return from meeting an informant who never showed.

An old bag lady holding a golf club runs up to me out of breath and exclaims, "Someone shot Preacher!"

"What?" I utter, and then I demand, "Where is he?"

The bag lady points with the golf club as tears stream down her wrinkled face.

I take off running in that direction as anxiety presses against my chest. A million things run through my mind as I hurry toward the Kitchen, screaming, "Preacher! Preacher!!"

I continue running till I spot Argus who's standing at the entrance of an alley with his back to me as he stares at the pavement. I run past him and find Preacher lying in a pool of blood. He's been shot several times in the chest. I freeze, paralyzed with dread, and I stare in disbelief at his lifeless body.

"No," I whimper and take a step forward. "No."

I walk to Preacher and collapse at his side. I fear touching him and discovering the truth as my eyes burn with my cowardice and anguish. He can't be dead. He's not dead. I pick up his hand, and his skin's cold to the touch.

"Preacher," I whisper, looking into his pale face. "Look at me." He doesn't respond to me. "Don't you die on me." I squeeze his hand. "Don't you leave me alone." He still doesn't respond, so I turn to Argus and desperately order, "Hurry! Go get some help!"

Argus doesn't move or say anything, so I turn my attention back to Preacher. I rub his cold hand as if to bring warmth back into it. My mind already knows something that my heart refuses to believe.

"Don't worry," I tell him. "Help will be coming, hang in there. You have to. You can't leave me alone." I lean to him, pleading, "I can't bear my life without you so please... stay with me."

I lean back, looking at the man who was there when I wake screaming in the middle of the night in the shelter, the man who held my hand and stayed by my side for three days when I had been shot, and the man who didn't care that bio-mechas hunted me or that I'm the Pandora Project.

His eyes are closed, and he looks as if he's sleeping. I notice there's something missing about him, not something physical but spiritual. I know it's too late as my heart realizes what my mind has kept from it, and I finally allow myself to believe he's gone.

"Not you!" I scream. "Not you!!" I shake him and cry, "No..!" I cradle his head in my arms and wail to the heavens as I beg him, "Don't leave me! Don't leave me!"

My heart aches, and my eyes swelter with a dry grief as I'm unable to shed a tear. It never tortured me before that I couldn't cry, but now I wonder if it's because I'm something like a bio-mecha who's not capable of expressing grief.

I sit there for minutes, holding Preacher in my arms as his blood saturates my t-shirt, and then I rest my head on his and whisper, "Forgive me, I should have been here. You told me not to go to the meeting and that it might be a trap, but I didn't listen. I had to go. I had to find that scrap." I sniff before continuing, "I should have listened but no... I had to find out if the man knew anything about my past, but he wasn't there. No one was there."

I notice Argus' shadow that's stretches down the alley, and I wonder if the Council's behind this and if they lured me away to kill Preacher in another one of their tests. My sorrow turns to anger as I come to the conclusion that the Council did kill Preacher.

I direct my rage at Argus and demand, "Who did this? Who shot him?"

He doesn't answer me, and he just stands there as the breeze whips his black trench coat as if he's a stoic knight standing guard at a drawbridge. I know he's no knight, knights are gallant and protect the weak. No one can't protect if they only watch.

I snap at him as if yelling at myself for not being there to save the man I love, "I know you saw... You're always watching. Was it the Council? Did they have Preacher killed? Did they have him killed to get at me because I'm not passing their tests? Because I'm not passing something called the Gamma Phase?" I gently lay Preacher down, stand, grab Argus by his coat's collar, and slam him against the alley wall. "You were here, weren't you?" I scream, wild with rage. "You were here and did nothing!" I beat my fist on his chest. "Isn't that right? Tell me! Did you watch them kill him?"

"Yes," Argus answers as he looks down at me, taking my hits as if they're a small part of his penitence. "My job is to watch," he tells me as his expression remains blank. "I'm not to hinder or help. My job is to–"

"Shut up! I hate you!" I snap at him as I drop my fist, lean my head on his chest, and whisper, "I hate you."

My words must sting as if I punched him for his body flinches. I lift my face to scream at him again, and the next thing that happens surprises me. His eyes are watering. Argus never showed any emotion before and for the longest time, I thought he was an Un-Man.

Argus lifts his hand as if he's going to stroke my head and soothe my sorrow, but then he drops his hand. He had told me once that he developed something his training should have prevented. He developed feelings for me. A part of me wants to reach out to him and find some comfort with him, but I can't. He's part of the Council... He's part of those who did this to Preacher.

I deeply heave as sorrow and anguish drown me, and then I demand, "Tell me. Tell me who murdered Preacher. Was it the Council or the Factory?"

He doesn't answer me and that makes me more infuriated with myself than with him. It's not Argus' job to protect Preacher. I should have been here. I should have listened to Preacher's advice, so I direct all my anger at Argus only because he's standing there.

"For once in your life, do something useful! Take a side... Take a stand!" I scream as I die inside. "Be more than an observer!" I look up into his watery blue eyes, looking... no pleading for comfort and whisper, "Kill me." I strike his chest with my fist; it's the only thing I can think to do for no one will wrap their arms around me again. "Help me," I beg as I hit him again. "Just do something!"

I hide my face in his coat, and my body trembles with sorrow and heartache, knowing nothing will bring back Preacher and that I'm all alone.

"Topa," Argus whispers. "Topa ordered the Closing on Preacher. He has an estate on the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector."

I sniff, pull myself back, and stare at him heartbroken. I stare at him for a long time, and then I slap Argus in the face, and he only looks at me. I tell him with self-loathing thick on my lips, "That's for doing nothing and letting Preacher die."

It was me though... I let Preacher die. I'm the one to blame because I wasn't here. My eyes still burn as I turn my back on Argus and tell him, "I don't ever want to see you again." I walk over to Preacher, take the Bible from his grasp, and head out of Wayfaring Lane as I inform Argus, "You're my shadow no more so don't follow me."

I leave the alley and start on my grim quest. I'll kill Topa. My knight... the one who saved me from my despair is dead, so I go to slay the dragon who murdered him.
Chapter Eight

From The Ashes

Present time...

October 13...

Wednesday...

9:47 A.M...

Katharine's view...

Topa's office feels menacing and reeks of corruption as the men in the photos stare at me. They seem to glare down at me as if I'm the monster in the room, but I ignore their silent accusations as my heart aches so much it makes me ill. Preacher gave me the strength to go on, and he made me feel like a person, not a project. Now I feel empty, alone, and part of some twisted experiment. Topa will pay for killing the only light in my life. I'll snuff out his flame as he had Preacher's life extinguished.

My gun weighs heavy in my hand, and I don't know how much longer I can hold it up. Sorrow overwhelms me as I aim for Topa's forehead. I have to make the pain go away, and this is the only way I can think of to make it stop hurting. Preacher's presence is here with me as I cradle his book, clenching it as I will him to come back to me. I know he won't be coming back and as I grip the gun, I also know Preacher would want me to do this. He's urging me on. He's telling me to take the shot and kill the dragon but... I feel like I'm missing something. I feel as though I'm about to betray him in some way.

Topa must notice my hesitation for he questions me, "Have you ever killed someone?"

I don't answer as I start to press my finger against the trigger. Topa's death will be like the others. He will die just like the Un-Men. I'll squeeze the trigger, and the bullet will penetrate his forehead and enter his automaton brain. No... That's not right. I can't be naïve about it. This killing will be different. Topa's flesh and not a bio-mecha, so I have to be honest with myself. I waver a little. I'll be taking a life, and it's the one thing I fought so hard not to do, but he killed Preacher so it has to change things. Preacher was my friend, and I lov...

I let the last word fade from my mind. I have no right to claim that type of relationship, not when I couldn't admit that simple word to Preacher. I pause in my thoughts as grief seizes me again, and I scream, "Nothing will bring Preacher back, so you have to die!"

"It isn't all that easy taking someone's life," Topa tells me as he reaches down, and I hear him open a desk drawer which probably has a gun in it. "Can you do it?"

"I will kill you! You murdered Preacher! You should die!"

My arm shakes as rage and grief shrieks at me to pull the trigger but something holds me back.

He must see the hatred in my eyes for Topa becomes a little nervous, but then two of his men enter from the door behind me, and he regains his confidence and questions, "Preacher? Oh... You mean the do-gooder causing me problems on Wayfaring Lane. You say he's dead?"

"You know he's dead! You ordered the Closing!"

"Maybe I did."

"I know you did!" I scream as the pain in my chest worsens, and I can no longer withstand the sorrow wanting to consume me. My resolve to kill Topa vanishes as I wish with all my being that Preacher would wrap his arms around me and tell me everything will be all right. I know that will never happen, and my gun arm drops slightly, and I no longer aim at Topa. I pull into myself, and once again aim the blame at my own feet. I should have never left Preacher's side. He's dead because I wasn't there to save him.

"You're here to do what?" he asks. "Kill me?" Topa looks me over and mocks my resolve, "You don't have it in you."

I can't let him dictate my revenge, so I lift my gun as if this action alone will give me the courage, but something within me tells me courage's not what I'm missing. I ignore the voice and tell him, "You should die for what you did but before I kill you, I have to know. Do you work for the Council or the Factory? Which one of them had Preacher killed?"

"The Factory I've never heard of but the Council..." He studies me more closely as if seeing me in a darker shade than before, and then he questions me, "What would someone like you know of them?"

"You didn't answer my question! Who do you work for?"

Topa laughs at me again as if I should know the answer, and then he tells me, "I work for no one but myself."

I don't believe him, and I let him know by saying, "You can refuse to answer me, but I know better." I scream, "You have to die because you killed him!"

I aim the gun again as I wrestle with the trigger and my emotions. I don't understand... I shouldn't be hesitating. I should shoot Topa and finish it! At that moment, I once again feel the worn leather of the book, reminding me of Preacher and this time, I hear his true voice. I drop my gun arm and sob as I finally understand. Preacher wouldn't want me to take revenge. It's wrong. He wouldn't want me to kill someone because of him, and he would never tell me to take the shot.

Outside the window...

Kimberly's view...

I watch the entire scene unfold with that woman. Idiot! You're weak and spineless. I grip the PPK. Kill him. Take your revenge. I wouldn't hesitate if someone had killed someone precious to me.

End Kimberly's view...

Within the Sanctum...

An alarm sounded. The Chamber Analysts and supervisors fell silent as they tensed, fearing the reaction of the Council. On the center screen in large red letters blinked "Third Evolvement Failure".

"NO!" Mr. Decuma shouted as he slammed his fist on the table, joggling his laptop. "Pandora failed! Why can it not take a life? Pandora has no problems dealing with the Un-Men, but it has refused to kill every human assassin we sent after it."

"The Un-Men are bio-mechas. They are not alive," Ms. Nona stated. "Pandora knows the difference even with the conditioning."

"Should we terminate the project? "Mr. Decuma asked.

An analyst turned off the alarm as Mr. Morta replied, "No, not just yet. All we need to do is find a sufficient catalyst."

"What about the tests?" Ms. Nona questioned.

Mr. Morta ordered, "Call off the bounty on Pandora's head and cancel the Life Closing for now. Pandora could use the rest."

"Agreed. I stated my concerns earlier over its fatigue," Ms. Nona said. "We have been pushing it too hard. Most subjects would have broken by now, and what about the Un-Men? Can we get the Factory to call them off?"

"We can request it, but I doubt they will," Mr. Morta answered. "The Factory feels they have as much of a right to Pandora as we do and most likely, they will continue to test their bio-mechas. We will focus on finding a catalyst for now."

"Agreed," Ms. Nona and Mr. Decuma said in one accord.

Back at Topa's estate...

Katharine's view...

Topa's henchmen quickly grab me from behind, and one of them takes my gun.

"Vengeance is mine, says the Lord," Topa speaks and then chuckles as one of his henchmen grabs the book from me. "I think you should take up a new religion because this one has failed you." He motions to his henchmen and orders, "Take her to the wine cellar and hold her there. I'll be down later to deal with our new guest."

They nod and start to take me outside as Topa closes the drawer to his desk. He stands, walks to a wall safe, and starts to unlock it.

Kimberly's view...

I wait until the two men escort that woman down the path, and then I make my way to the office door. I remove my knit mask right before I turn the knob and go in. Topa's standing in front of a wall safe and turns to me as I enter. I shut the door behind me.

"Now what is it?" Topa asks as if he's irritated with me for disturbing him.

I lock the door as I state, "I usually don't let anyone see me." The Mark doesn't know the reason for my arrival but he soon will, and I take a bit of wicked pleasure from that fact as I tell him, "But you're a special case."

"I'm going to have to do something about my security." His expression changes to one of perverted interest as he ogles my body and that only upsets me more, and then he states, "I suppose you're also one of Preacher's friends." He moves to the side of his desk and pulls out his chair but doesn't sit as he continues, "Perhaps you're a lady of the evening who can't live without her daily confessions?"

The man's oozing with grime, and it's like he's slinging it at me, so I sneer as I move to the middle of the office and order him, "Keep your hands where I can see them. I don't need you tripping any silent alarm and as for my profession–" I throw my business card on his mahogany desk as I state, "–this should answer that."

Topa glances down at it and then questions, "What's this? A firebird?" He recognizes the emblem and sits in his chair as if someone shoved him down into it. "No... You can't be." He peers up and panics. "Puck! You're the Phoenix?" He stands, searching for a place to run. "You're a Closer! Don't kill me! I'll pay you anything! I can give you credits or–" Topa motions to his safe as he states, "–I have cash."

"Hades... You really disgust me. Why is it I always hear the same old thing from you Marks? Do you really think you can buy off a Closer? Well, you can't." I clear my throat and then state, "Samuel R. Topa, the Valhalla Corporation has decided they no longer want to do business with you. They're tired of losing their shipments of Sunna Snapps so under the Life Closer Clause of your contract with Valhalla, I am authorized by the Assassin's League to terminate your life."

"But why kill me?"

"I'm only guessing, but it sounds like the narcotic Sunna Snapps hasn't been approved for use, but you're selling it anyway for the corporation. A kind of clinical street trial, but the participants don't know they're guinea pigs. You messed up when you lost a few of the shipments," I reply as I aim. "The Valhalla Corporation is now tying up loose ends and using the pretense of your contract to do it." I shoot twice and smoke rolls from the silencer and with no emotion, I add, "You know... just business."

Gray matter splatters the wall as Topa falls back in his chair and blankly stares at the ceiling.

For once, someone got what they deserved. For Ares' sake! To think this grimy guy had a preacher killed and used an Illicit Closer to do the job. Did he really think the Assassins Guild wouldn't find out? I glance at the black and white photos on his wall. I know people like us are going to Tartarus, but you had to provoke whatever god you believe in to send you there a little early.

I pull my knit mask back on and head out the front door. I want to leave the estate as soon as possible and forget about this horrible week. I really need to take a shower now.
Chapter Nine

The Un-Men Arrive

Points of interest...

Corporations had to develop alternatives for those addicted to nicotine since tobacco plants were nearly wiped out the first few months after the Dry Clouds appeared. The first year of the Dry Clouds (Zero Year), tobacco farms were started on the Light Side of the planet. Twenty-eight years ago, the Corporate Senate decided that crops planted on the Light Side had to produce food, so NicPhake and other synthetics were created. The idea was to wean people off of smoking altogether. The synthetic tobacco proved to be as addictive, and the secondhand smoke from NicPhake caused blindness in some infants. NicPhake was then regulated and could only be acquired with a prescription.

10:12 A.M...

Four black Chrysler 3000s drove across the road leading to Topa's estate. The human drivers parked, turned the headlights off, plunging the area back into darkness, and then the passenger and the two back doors opened. Three Un-Men got out of each car, and the vehicles rocked back and forth as the Un-Men exited. They moved to the back of their vehicles as the drivers popped the trunks, and an Un-Man of each group removed Uzis from the back and armed their brethren and once they were armed, their Input Sensor blinked three times as they received their orders from the Factory.

They uttered, "Setting programming to Infiltration Mode. Eliminate any obstructions to primary Seek and Destroy Program."

The dozen Un-Men gathered in front of the lead vehicle and looked at the north gate that was about a hundred feet down the wall from them. They synchronized to determine the best entry point and relayed their findings to the Factory.

Five armed men stood guard within the gate. The guards noticed them when they pulled up and readied themselves to engage the armed intruders and if they had to, the men would shoot on sight.

In unison, the Un-Men nodded their understanding of the Factory's orders. They slung the Uzi over their shoulder and started for the wall directly in front of them as the drivers drove the vehicles away. The Un-Men climbed over the fifteen-foot wall by stabbing their fingers into the brick. Each thrust of a hand into the mortar and clay sounded like a boot crunching across the snow; it sounded like an army marching across the white powder as they all scaled the wall.

"The intruders climbed over!" a man at the gate yelled.

"Quick, radio in backup!" another man yelled through his WM-B.

The five guards opened fire on the intruders, and bullets riddled the dozen bodies, filling their business suits with holes. The Un-Men remained standing, staring ahead. The guards ceased fire and glanced at one another, seeing that the intruders were still alive.

The Un-Men turned their heads in an eerily co-occurrence and looked at the guards.

"Obstacle encountered," they stated as they assessed the obstruction.

Two of them lifted their Uzi, aimed, and shot the men, and the men's bodies jerked as the wave of bullets bombarded them. The Un-Men ceased, and the men collapsed to the ground. The two Un-Men scanned the bodies and determined the men's life signs had ceased.

"Obstacle eliminated," a Team Leader stated. "Setting programming to Seek and Destroy. We will track down Pandora and eliminate her."

They headed into the heart of the estate in four groups of three as they all stated, "Pandora will not escape us this time."

Earlier at Topa's house...

The two henchmen shoved Kat down the stairs of the cellar and followed after her as the wooden steps creaked with their weight and once they reached the bottom, one of them ordered, "Warner, frisk her."

Warner did and took the music box, business card, and the note from her pant's pocket and set them on a table. He laid the white book and her gun there after he had ejected the gun's magazine and cleared the weapon's chamber. The other henchman motioned with his gun to a chair for her to sit, and she complied. Racks of wine filled the cool dusty room, and a rat scurried across the concrete floor in the back.

One of the henchmen grabbed her chin, lifted it up, examined her face, and said, "You aren't much to look at, are ya?"

Katharine's view...

I don't answer him, there's no point, there's no point to anything. The walk from Topa's office allowed me time to think. I was wrong before... Preacher might not have wanted me to take revenge, but I should have. I should have ended Topa as he so callously snuffed out the only light in my world. I had Topa in my sights, and I couldn't pull the trigger. It was my duty, and I shouldn't have listened to my heart. I failed, so I must concede that this is my fate for not killing Topa. I deserve far worse for not saving Preacher.

The henchman releases my chin and joins the other man at the square table. They both remove their WM-B and breathe in the room's filtered air.

I wipe my hands over my face as I regret allowing a sense of right and wrong stop me. I remember Preacher and the more I think about him, the more I think about how I failed to save him and how I fail to do what I had come to do.

"What do you think Topa will do to her, Muggs?" Warner asks.

"Don't know," Muggs replies as he shrugs. "Slap her around I guess. What does he usually do with women?"

Warner picks up the music box, opens it, and Unfinished Melody plays as I relax in the chair and my eyelids droop. My sorrow and pain vanish with the melody as it lulls me into an oblivious euphoria. Nothing matters when I exist in this state, not even the death of Preacher.

"Hey, she's falling asleep." Muggs stands, kicks my chair, and orders, "Stay awake!" He glances at the book and adds, "Maybe use this time to pray or don't you know you're going to die?"

Entranced by the melody, I ignore Muggs and listen as if I'm a youngster and the music box is the Pied Piper of Hamelin. I'll happily follow the bewitching music and vanish from existence. I stay in this euphoric state until Warner closes the lid, ending the melody.

After he does, Warner examines the music box more closely and states, "This ain't no ordinary trinket. It's electronic or something."

"You could pawn it at least," Muggs says. "It is silver."

With the drug-like music gone, my pain and sorrow rush back like a runaway hovertrain. Feeling nothing would be better than this heart pang, so I plead, "Could you please let the melody play?"

"Shut up! You don't get a final request," Warner tells me, then props his feet on the table, and starts rolling a cigarette with synthetic tobacco.

Muggs looks around the cellar as he says, "I've heard a couple of stories of people who've been taken down here. Isn't there another entrance to this place? One that comes up in the middle of the estate? I've heard–"

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

I ignore the men as they talk and focus on the cellar door like a prowling tigress about to pounce. Ultra-Epi courses through my blood as the e-field of my body alters. I can see it happen like I'm reviewing a video of myself. My eyes spark with blue voltage and in a calm voice, I say, "They're here."

Warner lights the cigarette and blows white-pink smoke from the side of his mouth. He takes another drag of NicPhake as he ignores my warning. He doesn't even look at me.

"Who's here?" Muggs asks, turns to face me, and gapes, seeing my eyes. Everyone usually reacts in the same way when they see the Ult L-E, but I'm still not used to how they look at me. They look at me like I'm some sort of evil monster. He stands and nearly knocks over his chair as he inquires, "Are you some sort of creature from the underworld?"

"They're here," I repeat. I don't care if the Un-Men find me or not.

Warner becomes notably upset. I don't think he heard his partner's comment, and he yells at me, "Didn't I tell you to shut the puck up?" He stands and lifts his hand to strike me as white-pink ash drops from the cigarette, and then he pauses and asks, "What's wrong with your eyes?"

"There are twelve intruders at the north gate!" a man yells over the intercom of their WM-Bs. "Hades! They've scaled the wall and are inside!"

Warner picks up his mask and listens.

The man on the other end breathes hard as if he's running.

"We're engaging them."

Weapons fire fills the airwaves.

"They must be wearing armor. We're switching to–"

There's a pause.

"Two of them are turning toward us and have lifted their weapons! Take cover!"

The rapid tat-tat of Uzis drowns out the man's screams.

Warner turns to his partner and orders him, "Quick, get on the radio and see what Topa wants us to do."

"Right, I'm on it." He puts his WM-B on and activates the intercom and speaks, "Boss, this is Muggs."

There's no reply.

"Boss, this is Muggs."

There's still no response.

"Can anyone hear me?" Only dead air returns his call, so he turns to Warner and questions, "Now what?"

Warner thinks for a moment and says, "You stay with the woman. I'm going to head to the main house and see–"

Gunfire erupts above ground, drawing their attention.

Muggs looks up to the cellar's small window and utters, "It's outside the house!"

"These intruders move fast," Warner says. "We need to get out of here!"

The door to the cellar burst open, and three Un-Men start down the stairs, aiming their Uzis.

"Target acquired," they state in their monotone voices. "Will now terminate Pandora."

"Hades!" Muggs curses as he and Warner draw their guns.

The men open fire, and the Un-Men continue down the steps unhindered by the metal barrage.

"Puck! Why won't they die?" Warner yells. "What are they?"

I find my resolve to face Topa again, so I run to the table, grab my things, and then turn the table over. I duck behind it and glance at Warner and Muggs, knowing they're doomed and at that point, I don't care. The only thing I care about is that this will give me a second chance at Topa.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Muggs asks as he turns to me, and then a bullet strikes his shoulder, knocking him back.

Warner grabs him, pulls him behind some crates, and continues firing at the three intruders as they reach the bottom of the stairs. "Die already, you puckers!!"

Muggs leans on the crate to support himself and returns fire.

I dash for the rear of the room as bullets spray by me and in the back, I find a door. I turn the knob, but it's locked, so I stand back, fire at the old lock, and kick in the door. I sprint down a tunnel, hearing the two men die as the Un-Men overrun their position. I'm so full of sorrow and grief, it doesn't matter to me if the men die. Hatred fills my heart. They got what they deserved for working for such an evil man. I follow the tunnel to a ladder as bloodlust fuels my manic dash, and I climb to the surface where a manhole opens into a group of apple trees. No Un-Men or guards battle in the immediate area, so I take the time to check over my weapon. My heart slows since the danger's gone for the moment, and the blue Ult L-E fades as the Ultra-Epi dissipates in my blood.

A raven cawing from the branch of an apple tree draws my attention. I peer at the bird as it seems to be searching for something. Maybe the raven has also lost someone dear to him or maybe... I focus on happier thoughts. Maybe the raven is looking for someone who's dear to him so that they might be reunited. I notice the tree. Red fruit litters the branches, and I feel the warrior within me who's in the rages of battle change to a woman who's in mourning. Preacher loved apples. He had one almost every day. I close my eyes and hold the bloody book to my chest. Topa will die this time and nothing will stop me. I rush toward his office, determined to finish him off no matter how grave the sin is.

Smoke from gunfire and small explosions linger in the air as I hurry by several bodies and one Un-Man they managed to disable. Electrical snaps fly from several holes in its head. The humans' red blood and the Un-Man's black oil mix in a small pool, and I feel a smidgen of guilt. Those men wouldn't be dead if the Un-Men weren't hunting me, but the guilt leaves me as hatred returns, drowning the small voice that utters save them. I duck behind a hedge as four men rush past me.

Fright pales their faces as one shouts orders, "We have to pull back from the gates and meet at the armory. We need heavy artillery."

The group of men hurries on. The thought of helping them against the unstoppable monsters never even crosses my mind, too much animosity clouds my thoughts. I step from the hedge, turn to continue to Topa's office, but pause, narrowing my eyes. Another obstacle pops up to block my revenge.

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

Ultra-Epi courses through my blood as my eyes produce a cerulean lambency. There are two Un-Men nearing my position. Fear doesn't fill my heart but rage as the warrior's side of me returns, and I grip the gun ready to eliminate all who stand in my way as an Un-Man steps from the side of a building to my left and another steps from a cluster of trees to my right. I've encountered five different models of Un-Men over the past year. The Rogue, they discontinued; it's a Type Four. The one to my left is a Type Two; it's a six-foot-six thin model with dark brown skin and a South African accent. The other one's a Type Five; it's a six-foot large muscular model with a Russian accent.

"Target acquired. I and another unit have cornered the Pandora Project," the dark skinned Type Two or T-2 relays over its I-Link.

"Commencing attack," the T-5 states.

I raise my gun and fire once to my left and once to my right. I'm going to kill Topa. The Un-Men fall to the ground and lie still as downed trees as I rush on. I'm not going to let anyone or anything get in my way!
Chapter Ten

Caught In A Crossfire

Earlier...

Kimberly's view...

At the northwestern corner of Topa's estate, I pull my black knapsack from the pile of leaves I had hidden it in, throw the grappling hook over the wall, and climb the cord to the top. I spot four cars parked by the north gate with twelve men near them who are carrying Uzis. I drop back down into the estate.

Great, just great! Who are those guys?

I whip up on the rope, forcing the grappling hook to fall down, and then I stow it in the knapsack. Gunfire erupts at the north gate as I race for the center of the estate. I'll try to go over the south wall. Gunfire continues as Topa's men shout, some in panic and some as their last cry. I duck inside a tool shed before six men rush past me. Weedwackers, a lawnmower, shelves, axes, and other lawn tools fill the outbuilding. I wait in the dark structure until I hear the men move on into the distance, and then I leave quietly. A man comes running up from the other direction.

"I've spotted an intruder," he shouts over the WM-B's intercom.

Another man joins him before I fire four times, hitting the first man twice in the stomach, and he falls, shrieking as blood pours from his abdomen. The other two bullets hit the second man in the shoulder and chest. The first man's shrieks alert three more to my position before he dies. I shoot one in the face before the second guard tackles me, and we struggle for my gun until a shot discharges. I moan and roll the dead man off of me, and by then, the third guard has his weapon trained on me.

"Toss your gun!" he shouts. "Now stand up."

I stand, raising my hands.

"I should kill you where you stand, but Topa will want to interrogate you."

If he only knew I had already killed his boss, he might have thought differently about keeping me alive. My luck is looking up.

He grabs my knit mask, pulls it off my head, and my hair frizzes out, and then I tell him, "You shouldn't have done that."

He questions, "Done what?"

I stare at him coldly as I say, "You shouldn't have seen my face."

I duck and twirl, sweep kicking his legs out from underneath him, and I draw my tactical knife from the sheath on my right calf. I jump on top of the man and slit his throat before he can react, and his blood splatters my face. I hate up close Closings. They're always so messy. I look at him with no emotion or remorse. I've been trained well. I stand from the dead man and scowl. The assignment has turned into a wetworks. Blood drips from my knife, so I bend and wipe the blade on the man's pants. I hear someone running towards me, so I abruptly turn and stand ready to attack the next guard.

Earlier...

Katharine's view...

Avoiding the guards and staying clear of areas the Un-Men are in, I spot a tool shed ahead of me. I notice a lady as the lady stands from a man she killed. I halt, raise my gun, and aim at her. The lady's preventing me from moving on, and I need to get by her and fast. I see the lady's knife and wonder if she's a guard. She's not well armed. I notice the men. No, she just dropped five of them. She can't be a guard. I glance over my shoulder. It doesn't matter who she is. I need to get by her and take my revenge before the Un-Men close in on me.

Kimberly's view...

I freeze as a female guard points her weapon at me. I look at the ground where my PPK lies and then to my knife. The female guard's too far away to lunge at, but I can throw my knife. I study her face. Wait... she's not a guard, that woman's the one from Topa's office. She's the one who couldn't kill him.

Katharine's view...

I start to shoot the lady in the leg when I believe I recognize her, and a sense of joy peeks over the mound of hatred and sorrow I feel. I've never come across anyone I thought I knew, and my mission of retribution loses its priority as I ask, "Have we met before?"

Kimberly's view...

I don't answer her, considering if that woman wasn't able to shoot Topa, what chance is there that she'll shoot me?

Katharine's view...

The lady ignores my question, and I don't know where I recognize her from. I do have to determine whose side she's on, so I ask, "Do you work for the Council or maybe you're a bounty hunter working for the Factory?"

I lower my gun a little, then raise it, and make a face as my heart hammers the bio-mecha warning. I gaze past the lady and realize that I stayed too long and they've tracked me down. I feel my Ult L-E trigger, but the light show doesn't seem to bother the lady for she comes at me with her knife. Instinct takes over, and I sidestep to the right and fire as the lady leaps at me like Tarzan attacking a tigress.

Moments earlier...

Kimberly's view...

I peer at that woman as something happens to her eyes. She must be wearing some sort of electrical device on her face for sapphire flames rage about and make her whole face burn with an angry aura. I look closer but don't see a device. With that woman distracted and muttering like a crazy person, I take the opportunity and pounce, lunging with my knife. That woman reacts much faster than I thought she could. I fear this is my end as she fires, but I continue my attack even as I wonder what the demon-like blue brimstone blazing from her is. The bullet barely misses my face as I bring my knife down. She blocks the chopping blade with her gun and kicks me in the stomach, and I stumble back and notice my PPK at my feet. I can't grab it just yet, so I stare at her for a long moment as if she's Lamia, the child-eating daemon. In all my years as a Life Closer, I've never seen anything like her.

I quickly shake off my dismay and terror and focus on my gun. If I can grab the gun, I can kill that hellish woman standing before me. I start for the PPK when gunfire from an Uzi erupts from the trees behind me, and I dive to the ground. That woman fires again. I roll, pick up my gun, move to a kneeling position, and search the area for my adversary, but that woman's gone. I run and take cover behind the tool shed and look at the line of trees where the Uzi fire came from. Sparks shoot up from among the trees, and I carefully make my way there and investigate, finding two men dead. Both have a single shot through their head, and I realize that woman wasn't aiming at me. I was wrong... that woman can kill, but she didn't kill me. Black blood trickles from the men's heads, and I step closer for a better look. What are they? I kneel to them. Are they robots?

I don't have time for this, so I stand and walk to the dead guard who's still holding my knit mask. I touch my cheek as a dreadful fear creeps over me. She saw my face! Hades! That woman saw my face, and I let her escape!

* * *

Katharine's view...

Rushing into Topa's office with my gun at the ready, I find no guards within and Topa leaning back in his chair with his brains splattered across the wall. I stand there, aiming at the man. We're both frozen in the moment. Sadness and regret wash over me as the gore keeps me fixated.

Tick... Tick...

An old clock sounds, filling the otherwise silent room with the passage of time, and I lower my gun. Am I relieved someone else killed him or am I upset that the privilege was taken away from me? I don't understand my emotions. Maybe I feel a little of both, and I take a step toward him, trying to determine who killed him. I walk to his desk, examining the bullet holes. I don't think it was an Un-Man. Two shots to the head look more like the work of a Life Closer.

Tick... Tick...

The clock sounds away the seconds as I look at the black and white photos of Topa's male relatives who had accused me earlier of being a monster. Time allows my hatred and sorrow to turn into regret and self-loathing. I move to Topa and stare at his terror-filled face, and I'm ashamed of my revenge filled thoughts. It shames me to say, but I don't know if I would have killed him. I'd like to think I would have changed my mind before it was too late but...

Tick... Tick...

I catch a glimpse of a red speckled business card with a flaming bird resting on his desk and pick it up. It's a calling card left behind by a Life Closer to the N.C.P.F. so they will know it's a Closing authorized by the Assassins Guild. A barcode on the back of the card can be read by a specialized H.H.C., which the Noir Civil Police Force carries, and prove the Closing's authenticity.

Deep in thought, I hold the card as a lot clouds my mind, and so it takes me a while before I realize the image is the same. I quickly remove the business card I found at Etna Toys a year ago and compare the two. My heart leaps with excitement. They're almost identical. I review the day's events. The lady I fought... I remember how she seemed familiar. Maybe she left this card. I rush out of the office. I have to find her, and I have to ask her again if she knows me.

I make it out of the estate through the south gate about ten minutes later and run into the pale glow of a pine forest. I follow an old truck road, and it comes to a fork just as a red VX Corvette with the license plate FromAshes speeds off, kicking up dirt. I pause and glance at the two business cards. I might have found someone who knows me. I stare at the trail of smoke and dust left behind by the car. I found the lady once, I can find her again. I stare down the road till the dust settles, then place the business cards in my back pocket, and make my way to the north side of the estate. I walk up to the gnarled oak and grab my backpack and jacket and then when I sense the Un-Men are near, I hurry back into the woods.

Tall scraggly Lantern Pines fill the forest and scent the air. Scientists created Transgenic Plants that could survive without the sun, and they created the Lantern Pines by genetically modifying a yellow pine with the extra-genome of a lanternfish, producing a tree that created its own light. The bioluminescence lasts several days after the needle's death, so even the forest floor produces a ghostly glow. The Dry Clouds cease their grumblings, forever looming over the land like a menacing specter. An owl hoots as I dash by its roost, and I flee till I sense the Un-Men have ceased their pursuit. The Ultra-Epi Light Emissions dissipate, and my heart ends its warning, so I slow to a walk, and a possum scurries past. I stop in a small clearing, undo the Velcro of my armor, remove the black Ravlek Vest, and look down at my bloodied white t-shirt. I pull a clean one from my backpack, take off the soiled one, and put on the new, and then I hold the bloodied t-shirt and Bible to my chest as I sit against a tree on a bed of glowing needles. I close my eyes to sleep. Preacher, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm alone in the world again, and I miss you... I miss you so much.

Time slowly passes, but I can't sleep. Over the past year, I have learned the Ultra-Epi that courses through my blood gives me abilities, but it also causes side effects. It took me a long time to figure out that the music box counters the side effects. All I have to do is listen to the tune, go into a trance-like state, and make myself vulnerable to attack. I feel anxious; it's the first side effect of the Ultra-Epi. I stare up at the canopy of ghostly pines. Preacher, forgive me. I weep without tears. Forgive me for not saving you.

My nose runs, and I wipe it with the back of my hand. Within the serenity of the forest and in the calming effects of crickets chirping and the wind rustling pines, a realization sinks in. Preacher, what would you think of me? In my anger, I hurt people. I let people die, and I almost killed a man today. Something I promised myself I would never do under any circumstance. I hug the book tighter. Oh Preacher, can you forgive me? God, please forgive me.

I remove the music box from my pocket, open its lid, and let the melody lull me. I don't care if I'm caught. I only seek relief from my anguish, and my eyes droop as I enter what I call the Drifting Time and leave behind sorrow, regret, and hatred.
Chapter Eleven

The Siblings

Russia, the Light Side of the planet...

October 13...

Wednesday...

10:42 A.M...

Two pilots sat in the cockpit of a V.T.O. (Vertical Take Off) thirty passenger plane. Engineers designed the aircraft to fly through the polluted barriercumulus of the world's Dark Half. The pilots prepared for takeoff on one of many circular pads among hundreds of other V.T.Os. landing and taking off.

In first class, Natasha pulled up the shutter of the plane's small window, and she looked at the sun as it rose over Moscow and pulled her white fur-lined, long, black coat close to her neck. "Look Nikolai." Her Russian accent was thick as she spoke, "Is it not beautiful?"

"Yes, Tasha," her twin brother said. He wore a white pinstriped gray business suit, and a gray Fedora hat rested on his lap. "As beautiful as you."

"I heard the place we are going is grisly."

"Yes, so remember that image." He motioned to the ball of orange and told her, "Where we are going you will not see the sun again." He burned the image into his mind. "Noir exists in endless night."

She turned to him and her face was full of worry. "Nikolai, I have a bad feeling about this trip."

He stroked her long black hair and took her hand. "I know you do not like to fly. Be brave, my sister."

"It is more than that." She looked into her brother's dark brown eyes. "I feel the place we are going is full of wickedness."

He squeezed her hand gently as he said, "Do not fear, my sister, I will always be by your side."

The engines of the V.T.O. roared as the airport's tower cleared the plane for takeoff. The copilot double checked the two moveable nozzles on each wing. They produced the thrust for vertical liftoff. He pulled the V.T.O. lever down, turning the nozzles horizontal and pushed the lever up to return the nozzles to vertical. The copilot gave the all clear, the pilot ignited the thrusters, and the aircraft lifted straight up into the sky. The plane rumbled and shook with the effort as Natasha buried her head in her brother's shoulder and after a few minutes, the copilot pulled the V.T.O. lever down, and the aircraft shot across the horizon.

Nikolai leaned over, closing the shutter. "It is over, we are in the air."

"I would not be here if it was not Voice who asked us to go to Noir for this Closing." She glanced at the shutter as she added, "Be where only plastic separates us from falling to the ground."

"Take courage, my sister." He reached into his coat pocket. "I will give you some sleeping pills, then you can let this flight go by while you dream."

"You think my fear will be any less in sleep? I will only have nightmares of crashing."

He gently squeezed her hand, so she would look at him. "Tasha, have I ever let anything happen to you?"

She stared into his strong face. "No."

"Do not fear. I will protect you. Rest. I will watch over you."

"Yes, rest." She closed her eyes, remembering a wolf name Salandra from a Russian tale and quoted a line Salandra had said. "I will fight back death in my dreams."

Nikolai remembered the same story where a raven named Draven replied to the wolf, and he said, "And I will keep death away from my branch."

She took the pills from him and popped them into her mouth.

"Let us change seats," Nikolai requested. "Once you are asleep, I would like to look out of the window and witness this Curtain they speak of that divides the world."

She nodded. He grabbed his hat, stood, removed a briefcase from the overhead compartment, and switched seats with her. Natasha asked for a pillow and a blanket from a female attendant. The attendant returned with the items, and Natasha took them, put her seat back, and soon fell asleep.

Nikolai opened his briefcase and removed an old detective novel called Blood Harvest by Kit Sire. He opened the book to the first chapter titled "The Woman Wore Green And The Man Gray". Nikolai read the first chapter to himself, "It ain't no easy street for a gumshoe. Long days and even longer nights... That's me, an old bloodhound for hire. Throw me a couple of scraps, and I'm yers for the day, week, whatever it takes. If yer looking for a dame or a mucker, I'll track them down."

Nikolai leaned back and grinned. "Kit knew how to write a good story. I feel like one of the mobsters in his novels." He straightened his white tie and in a gangster accent, he said, "I'm a Hood that brings the Big Sleep. A Cat ready to blow one down. In a couple of days, I'll finally have Tommy, and I'll be my own Chopper Squad."

He continued reading as a boy with his mother sitting across the aisle from him glanced at his book.

"What's that?" the boy asked as he pointed.

Nikolai peered up from the text. "This?" He lifted the book. "It's a novel."

"A novel?" The boy wrinkled his brow. "What kind of book is that?"

"A novel tells a story. They are very rare. This one is an antique. The Corporate Senate banned the making of entertainment books long ago. Today you have to have a license to carry a novel and many other forms of books."

The boy eyed the novel curiously. "I still don't know what it is. What's a story?"

Nikolai glanced at the boy's mother who was sleeping. Surely his mother told him tales of knights and dragons in the privacy of their home.

The boy's mother woke and saw her son talking with the stranger. She noticed Nikolai reading a novel and looked at him with disgust as if he was smoking dope. She changed seats with her child, forcing the boy to sit by the window.

Nikolai returned to his reading. Hours went by, and a female attendant walked up to them, leaned over his sister, and touched his shoulder.

"Sir, we are coming up to the Curtain."

"Thank you." Nikolai raked his hand over his face and through his buzz cut.

A male passenger in the seat in front of him said to a woman, "I hear the barriercumulus spreads almost an inch every week. If the Corporate Senate doesn't find a way to stop the Dry Clouds, the whole world will be covered."

"Is that right?" the woman asked.

"As right as anything you hear," the male passenger replied.

If that was true, Nikolai's homeland would be consumed by the barriercumulus. He opened the window shutter; it was still day. He looked across the wing at about 2 o'clock and in the distance, a charcoal-gray wall of clouds spread across the horizon and consumed the sky. The dark barrier raged with movement as if two creatures fought for dominance.

Nikolai cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me."

The female attendant turned. "Yes, sir."

"Do what you call Dry Clouds, do they always look that way?" He motioned outside.

She glanced out the window and replied, "No, only the outer area known as the Curtain acts this way. Once we're inside, they will look like normal storm clouds."

"Thank you."

Nikolai watched the barriercumulus as streaks of purple lightning lit up the mass. He didn't see them as normal storm clouds. He didn't see anything normal about them.

The seat belt sign blinked on with a ding as the V.T.O. ascended, flying above the Dry Clouds of the Earth's Dark Half into the high Troposphere. The female attendant walked the aisle, making sure everyone had their belt buckled.

"Excuse me," Nikolai said.

The attendant turned to him and spoke, "Yes."

"Why are we flying above the clouds and not through them?"

"As you can see, the Curtain is very turbulent, so we fly above the Dry Clouds until we have passed the Curtain. We will be flying about five miles in." She glanced over her shoulder when she heard another attendant call button, and then the attendant turned back to Nikolai. "It's safer to fly above them and then descend once we reach our destination." She started down the aisle to the other passenger. "We'll be over the outer edge of Noir shortly."

He turned to his sister and told her while she slept, "Not much longer and it will be over."

Within twenty minutes, the pilot slowed the plane as the copilot pushed the V.T.O. Lever up, turning the aircraft's nozzles to their vertical position, and the plane hovered. The pilot closed the air intake valves to the engines with a flick of his finger and switched to a stored clean air source. If the plane used outside air while moving through the barriercumulus, the pollutants would cause the engines to clog and die.

"Perhaps my sister is right," Nikolai said as the aircraft started a vertical descent to one of Noir's Airports. "This place is a wicked place."

The plane hit heavy turbulence, entering the Dry Clouds. He feared his sister would wake and panic, but she continued to sleep soundly. A few minutes passed, and the shaking subsided.

"If I could have everyone's attention," a male attendant announced over the intercom. "We will be landing shortly, and at this time please pull out the kits that were issued to you when you boarded. Our staff will be walking around to assist you." The male attendant paused as he helped an elderly lady remove a kit from underneath her seat.

Nikolai closed the shutter and gently shook his sister. "Tasha, wake. We are landing in the Rising Sun Sector of Noir, and soon we will be on a hovertrain to the Hellenistic Sector."

"Hmm..." She stretched and yawned. "Already? I did dream as you said. I dreamed of a sky full of stars."

He said, "I did tell you."

The male attendant announced over an intercom, "Inside your kits, you'll find an instruction booklet." He raised the handbook. "A Winnow Mask type A." The attendant lifted a small triangular device with a rubber rim which fitted over the nose and connected to a filter. "And the Liquid Oxygen Spray is known as L-O." He raised what looked like a fat ball-point pen. "Please wear the WM-A anytime you go outside, and it will keep you from feeling the ill effects of the pollutants caused by the petroleum based clouds. They can be dangerous for those not used to living below Dry Clouds." He paused. "The triangular filter fits over your nose. Breathe in through this filter and out through your mouth. The basic design mask has to be held to the face. If you find that you are outside a lot, you can purchase an upgraded version of the Winnow Mask that is handsfree." The attendant demonstrated and removed the mask. "If you should feel queasy or light headed, inject yourself with the L-O Spray and this will give your bloodstream a burst of oxygen."

The attendant paused for a moment. "Place the spray's head on your bare wrist or neck, press the red button on the top, and the solution absorbs right through your skin. Your body will take some time to get used to the air, so please keep your kits with you at all times. These items can be replaced at any drug store. If you have any questions, an attendant will help you."

Natasha looked at the mask. "They are not very fashionable, are they?" She whined, "I wish to be done with this Closing."

Nikolai turned to her. "Patience, sister. We will return to Mother Russia in time."
Chapter Twelve

Nexus Apartments

4:35 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Kimberly's view...

I drive my Corvette into the parking garage of the Nexus Apartments. I had stopped earlier at a gas station and changed out of my black clothes into a blue pantsuit and made sure to wash the splattered blood from my face. I get out of the car, make my way to my apartment, go in, and throw my knapsack on the couch in the living room. I go to the hall, walk to my bedroom, go into my bathroom, lean on the sink, and stare at myself in the mirror.

"Idiot!" I shout at myself. I let myself be seen. I turn on the faucet and watch the water run down the drain as the security I had in my job washes down the tube. I should have gone after that woman and killed her but no... I look up and stare at myself again. I panicked and ran. "Hades!"

I glance into my bedroom as the water continues to run. The screensaver of the flaming phoenix flies across the laptop, and the glow lights up the dark room, casting shadows across the floor and walls. I turn and face the sink and splash some water on my face, trying to wash away my anxiety over what the Assassins Guild will do to me once they find out my identity has been compromised. I dry my face with a towel then go and sit at my desk. I press the space bar to wake up my laptop, hoping also to wake up from this nightmare of my own making, and then I send an instant message and within minutes, a reply comes back.

"Topa's Closing is complete then," Voice types. "The payment will be placed into your account. Did you run into any trouble?"

I start to type no, but then I backspace and respond, "About a dozen robot-like men showed up and killed everyone in sight."

"Must be some sort of bio-mecha, perhaps the next generation of assassins," Voice types. "Most likely someone there was their target, but was it Topa? We'll probably never know, at least you got out."

I rake my hand through my hair, knowing the grave mistake I've made, and I move my hands toward the keyboard to write, and they shake with dread as I force myself to type, "Someone saw my face." I hit the send button and stare at the screen, and two grueling minutes pass with no reply. "What should I do?" I hit the send button again, hoping for a reply and praying for some guidance and solace.

"Find them and kill them. You know it is very dangerous, Phoenix. Even I don't know who you are or what you look like. If your identity gets out, you will become the target, and then the Assassins Guild will be forced to deal with you." The statement ends and another follows. "But before that happens, you know I will step in, and you don't want me to rectify the problem. You know my means."

I do know and there's no reprimand for a Closer. I grab the sides of my desk and grip them tightly. With Voice and the Assassins Guild, there's only one way to deal with a Closer who has lost their anonymity, and it's the sanctioning of their own Life Closing.

"Don't contact me again until this matter is taken care of. Voice signing off."

I glance at the dark afternoon through the bedroom's window as I roll my chair away from the desk. I have to find that woman, but I don't know her name. I only know she was there to kill Topa because he hired an Illicit Closer to murder someone named Preacher. I don't even know what he was a preacher of.

Hades... This is going to be impossible.

* * *

Two days later...

October 15...

Friday...

6:49 A.M...

Katharine's view...

Hundreds of street lights light up twilight as a horde of bats darts across the ever dark horizon. The sidewalk goes on forever in both directions as I make my way across West 1000 Avenue and pause, looking at the tall Nexus Apartments. It's the building of the Phoenix's nest. I walked all night and morning to reach this part of the Hellenistic Sector, and my shoes are like ten-pound dumbbells on my poor sore feet. I adjust the strap of the backpack that crosses my chest as I study the sensors on a ten-foot concrete wall lining the building's perimeter. They consist of a black sphere the size of a volleyball and are spaced about ten feet apart along the top of the wall. I follow the sidewalk to a gate, and on the gate's metal bars is a gold shield which is the Sphinx Corporation Emblem. I run my hand over the shield and then over a winged creature in its center with a woman's head and a lion's body. The creature's right paw is lifted, and its claws are extended. The emblem seems to plague every place I go. Even the Council and the Factory are departments within the Sphinx Corporation. I study the perimeter and wondered if the sensors provide more than security for the building. I put my hand up toward a black sphere, and I feel and hear a hum coming from the device. I visualize a bio-mecha approaching one of these things and being deterred so these spheres must act as a barrier.

A white van pulls up, and a man gets out and walks up beside me. He's dressed in a white uniform and I get no dangerous vibe off of him as he says, "Excuse me."

I move out of his way, and the man tips his white cap. "Thanks." He presses the button to an intercom positioned beside the gate and releases it.

"Welcome to Nexus Apartments," a man's voice says over the intercom. "I'm the manager. How may I help you?"

The delivery man presses the button again and speaks, "Delivery for Kimberly Griffin. Security Code 10 Alpha."

After a few seconds, the manager replies, "Code verified. Proceed to the gate that faces Knot Street, and I'll let you in."

The delivery man goes back to his van, starts up the engine, turns down Knot Street, and parks as I follow the sidewalk around the corner, walk by the vehicle's passenger seat, and notice it's empty. The delivery man gets out, strolls to the back of the van as he whistles, and then starts on a crate.

I watch as the man struggles to load a rectangular box on a flat cart, and then I ask him, "Where's your partner?"

"What did you say?" he questions as he pauses, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

I lean on the back of the van. "Usually at least two men do this kind of job, so where's your partner?"

The delivery man points his thumb over his shoulder. "He's out sick."

"Would you like some help?" I motion to the apartments. "I was on my way up."

He looks me over. "I'm not supposed to cause of business policy but... You aren't some murdering psycho are you?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Well then..." He places the wooden crate on the cart. "If you could push from behind, this thing weighs a ton."

I head to the back of the cart and push on the crate. The apartment manager and a security guard meet us at the gate.

The old white haired manager looks over his H.H.C. "Kimberly Griffin isn't home right now, so I'll show you in." He examines the delivery man's employee badge and types the ID number on the Hand Held Computer. "Follow me please."

The delivery man pulls the cart as I push, and we move to the glass front doors where another security guard buzzes us in. The manager leads us to a service elevator, and we along with the guard head up to the thirty-first floor. Security cameras monitor the hallways.

The manager stops in front of Kimberly's apartment and commands, "Apartment H, unlock. Manager code 12 Beta."

"Voice recognized as Nexus' Manager," the Apartment Computer System states. "Opening door."

"Wow," the delivery man exclaims. "Automated apartments. I bet you can tell the lights to come on."

The manager says, "Our apartments are equipped with voice commands and manual utilities, giving our tenants the best in security and luxury."

"I'll have to look into getting one of these places," the delivery man states.

He pulls the cart down a small entryway as I push and once we're in the living room, the delivery man starts uncrating a cedar chest, so I go and look around. The lady's apartment's huge and covers more than three thousand square feet. The entryway empties into an open kitchen with four barstools at the counter, a large living room is off to the left, beyond it down a hall are two bedrooms and two baths, and off to the right of the entryway, a small round table sits next to a window.

I do think it's odd that the table's so small, considering it's the only one in the apartment. I ask the delivery man, "Do you need any more help?"

"No, I got it from here. Thanks."

I leave, note the apartment's letter H on the door, head for the regular elevator, go up to the roof, and wait. I watch what little traffic travels West 1000 Avenue as I grip the icy metal railing that surrounds the top of the roof. Finally, I'll have some answers once I meet the lady who owns the two business cards.

A cool breeze sweeps in, chilling the air and my thoughts, so I zip up my athletic jacket, but it does little to stay off the cold. I have no idea what I'll learn from the lady, so I clench the jacket over my heart with my right fist as if in pain. I dread discovering the truth about myself, wondering if it will be worse than the unbearable ignorance I've endured the past year. Whatever happens next, it'll change my life forever.

End Katharine's view...

Back in Apartment H...

The delivery man finished his work and set the cedar chest against the wall in the living room out of the way. He placed the crate pieces back on his cart, had the manager sign for the package, and headed back to his van and once inside the vehicle, he made a cell phone call.

"I would like to speak with R.G." He waited for a moment. "Hello, Delivery Man here. Yes, my work is finished, and as per your instructions, I permitted Katharine to enter with me into the Nexus Apartments. She's still there." He paused for a moment, listening. "Yes, so far security doesn't know she is still on the premises. Do you want me to monitor the situation?" He started up the engine and drove the van, heading away. "Understood. Returning to base."
Chapter Thirteen

Confrontation

7:22 A.M...

On the roof...

Katharine's view...

I lean on the metal railing and continue staring at the road below and at times of quiet stillness, I feel the barriercumulus, and their presence is like an evil eidolon. If this is true, who does this phantom look-alike belong to?

The Dry Clouds softly roll and unsettle me, and they have done so ever since I first laid eyes on them, but there's also something else about the Dry Clouds; it's a hint of familiarity. I can't explain it, but today the foreboding's stronger than the familiarity. Is it because they're unnatural? Does everyone feel this way around them or is it just me? I watch them go by and look for shapes within the clouds and see an old sailing ship being chased by a sea serpent. The Dry Clouds have been around for thirty-two years and have been given the name the Great Specter of Noir. People also say that they're a mystery. I chuckle. In a way, we're the same.

An hour goes by, and I notice the Corvette pull into the parking garage. I jump up and down like a little girl who has just got the pony she wished for. I want to run back down and meet her and ask her all my questions, but I contain my excitement and wait a few more minutes, giving the lady enough time to arrive at her apartment. I don't want to come at her like some crazy person, so I'll have to keep my cool.

A few minutes later...

Kimberly's view...

I hear a ding and the whoosh of the elevator opening and then someone approaches me as I put my mail in my dark green purse that matches my pantsuit. I stand outside of my apartment and realize how odd it is that I've never seen any of the other tenants the whole time I've lived here. I need to at least get a glimpse of one of my neighbors, so I turn. My Closer training kicks in a second before I have a chance to panic as I spot that woman I've been hunting. For two days, I scoured Noir and turned the city on its head, but I couldn't find anything on this mysterious woman, not even her name. I drop some of my mail as I open my purse to grab my PPK, but then I remember the floor's security cameras. I can't kill her out here, not unless she threatens me, so I wait for that woman's next move.

Katharine's view...

Elated and full of expectations, I stop about two yards from the lady. Finally, after a year of knowing nothing, I'll have some answers. I can't stand my excitement anymore, so I question her as if I already know the answer, and I'm ready to give my old friend a big hug, "Are you Kimberly Griffin?"

The lady looks confused and very on edge like I'll pull my gun on her at any moment, but it's tucked away in my backpack. She must see me as threatening, so I smile real big to show her I'm a safe person as I repeat, "Is your name Kimberly Griffin?"

Kimberly's view...

"Yes," I reply as I step back and size up that woman who's smirking at me like some lunatic ready to murder me. I put out a lot of feelers while I was looking for her, maybe she already knows I've been hunting her and has come to strike before I can. I realize something else. She knows my name, so I have to eliminate her now. I reexamine her cheerful face, and she looks happy to see me like we're best friends and we haven't seen each other in years. I can't figure out why she's putting on this act and not attacking me unless she's also waiting to strike when there are no witnesses.

She says to me, "I had a contact in the Noir Civil Police Force look up your address from your license plate. It cost me two months worth of water rations." She starts to ask me something and looks over her shoulder at the cameras. She removes two business cards, shows me the blood speckled one, and then questions me, "Is this you?"

I grip the gun in my purse so sure that woman reaches for a weapon, but I'm surprised to see the business cards. I can't figure out what kind of game she's playing, and a million things go through my mind. That woman tracked me down and came all the way to my apartment. Is she hoping to blackmail me? Only an idiot would think they could blackmail a Life Closer.

I scan the hall to see if anyone else is on the floor and ask, "What do you mean, is that me?"

Katharine's view...

"I've been looking for..." I start to answer and then decide I shouldn't say the Phoenix out loud. Someone could be listening, and the lady might not want anyone else to know, so I continue, "I've been looking for this... Umm..." I flip the card over, look at the picture, and turn it back to her. "This firebird. Is this you? If so, I'd like to talk."

Kimberly's view...

I can't let her leave, and I can't kill her out here. I glance at the hall's cameras. If I can only get that woman into my apartment, then I can... I wickedly grin as I visualize myself shooting that woman and then I see myself standing over her lifeless body. All I'll have to do is call Voice for a Guild Prep/Cleanup Crew, and I'll have this annoyance taken care of.

That woman reaches down, picks up my dropped mail, and hands it to me as she asks, "This isn't a bad time, is it?"

"No, of course not," I answer.

It's almost too easy but still, I have to be on my guard; it could be a trick.

"Come on in," I say as I take the mail from her still wary of that woman and command, "Door, unlock." The door slides sideways. I motion for the woman to go in first, and then I follow. "Door, lock," I command, and the door closes, entombing us.

The Apartment Computer System turns on the lights as we enter each room as it tells me, "Welcome back Ms. Griffin and welcome guest. The apartment–"

"Mute," I command.

That woman walks down the entry, stops, and studies the kitchen. She walks over to the faucet, glances back at me, and says, "I see no scanner for a Water Ration Card. Your water isn't portioned?"

I look at the sink then think of the shower and bathtub and realize I never thought about it. Most of the city's given an allotment for the month and here I enjoy unlimited. I'm wary of that woman's suspicious questions. Is she trying to distract me or is she really this naive?

I answer, "No, my water isn't portioned."

"Oh, you must be rich then."

She sets her backpack on the black leather couch, walks over to the small round table, and sits as if she's here for a visit. I start to pull out my gun, notice the cedar chest in the living room, and turn my attention back to that woman.

She sees the teacup I left earlier that morning and states, "Tea. I love tea." She turns wide-eyed like a kid asking for a piece of candy. "Could I have some, please? I haven't had tea in a long time."

"Tea?"

I glance at the kettle on the stove then at my purse. She has to be joking. She has to be here to kill me. I'm not sure what to do, but then I think of Topa's Closing. Maybe I can find out what was going on there, so I'll play along for now, and I answer her, "Sure, why not. Let's have some tea. Is black okay?"

I don't wait for an answer as I carefully position my purse on the counter, so I'll have quick access to my gun.

"Yes, black tea is fine."

Keeping a close tab on that woman, I fill the kettle, place the stainless steel pot on the burner, and turn it on high. "So..." I place two sets of cups and saucers on the counter. "Who are you and why have you come to see me?"

Katharine's view...

Heavyhearted over Preacher's death and still weary from the endless running, I laugh a melancholy chuckle as I stare at the table. "That's a good question."

I reach into my pant's pocket for my dearest possessions. They've been with me since the beginning, and maybe now one of them will lead me to the answers I desperately seek and a place I yearn to belong.

Kimberly's view...

When that woman reaches into her pocket, I go for my purse and start to grab my gun until I see the items that woman removes. She places a small silver box, two business cards, and a worn paper on the table, and then she opens the paper. She answers as she seems to be studying the writing, "Katharine, I think. If this note is meant for me."

I could shoot her now that that woman's distracted and end this game. The kettle shrieks, stealing away the moment, so I turn the burner off, remove the pot, and pour hot water into the cups. The aroma of orange fills the air as I say, "Note? I don't understand."

"Huh?" She turns to me. "Oh, I guess you wouldn't. You see, I don't know who I am." She looks back to the items. "The only clues to my identity are these three things." She seems unsure herself as she adds, "At least, I think they are."

What an unlikely story? I carry the two saucers to the table with my purse strapped over my shoulder as I try to figure out her ploy. I set a teacup in front of her and one at my spot. Either that woman is very clever or very stupid.

"See..." she says as she gives the paper to me.

I read the note, "Katharine, you must not fail. This is your last chance to redeem yourself. I know you can complete your mission, my dearest Kat. I am counting on you. Signed, R.G." I peer up from the note. "Who is R.G.?"

She shrugs.

"I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?" I ask as I hand back the note.

She folds the paper, picks up the business cards, and then explains to me, "For the past year, I've been trying to figure out how these clues fit in my life, and now I've found a person who belongs to one of these items." She slides the red speckled card across the table. "I found this at Topa's." She places the second one beside the other. "This one I've had."

I look over the blood covered business card I left beside Topa, pick up the second business card, and ask, "Where did you get this one?" I examine it more closely. "This is an earlier design from years ago."

Katharine's view...

"I'll start from the beginning."

I dip the tea bag in my hot water several times, drain the bag with a spoon, and place it on the saucer. I breathe in its citrus scent and stare at the brownish liquid. Sitting here seems so familiar to me like I've been here before.

"About a year ago, I awoke in the abandoned Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse with no memory. Beside me on a table was this note–" I begin as I tap the paper and point to the other two items, "–that business card, and this music box." I look at the backpack on the couch where I stowed the Beretta. With an aversion to having to carry the gun, I add, "And one other item."

"What you're saying is, you don't know who you are, and you think because you have one of my business cards, you're supposed to find me? Okay... You have. Now what?"

I pick up the honey bear, draw a smiley face on the spoon, and whisper, "Fly... fly away, sad, sad day."

Kimberly's view...

What's that woman doing playing with the honey? She has to be out of her mind coming into my home like we're friends.

"Now what?" that woman repeats my question as she shrugs. "I don't know. I was hoping you knew me." She seems to be examining my face again as she inquires, "Are you sure we haven't met? You look very familiar, but I can't place you. It's kind of like when you wake from a dream. You know something happened but all the details are fuzzy."

"No, we haven't met," I answer, irritated, and then I remember our first meeting at Topa's estate and decide I might as well get some information from her before I eliminate that woman, so I state, "I am curious. What were those things you killed at the estate? Were they some kind of robot and why were they there?"

Her gaze becomes distant, exhausted, and dismal as she replies, "They're bio-mechas, model Un-Men." She flushes as if she's a little embarrassed. "They were there to hunt me."

"Hunt you?" I chuckle, thinking she made it up. "Why are you so important?"

"I don't know. They call me the Pandora Project."

First her names Katharine and now her name's Pandora. I wish she'd make up her mind or come up with a better story. I decide to continue playing along like I somewhat believe her and ask, "They? Who are they?"

"The Council. A man named Argus said they were monitoring me and watching me through the tests." She mutters as her eyes show fatigue, "And there have been so many tests."

"Pandora..." I repeat, and then I remember a story I heard long ago. "I've heard of her. She was a woman who opened a sealed box from Zeus and let all good escape from existence, so are you supposed to be the woman who doomed the world?"

Katharine's view...

"Let all good escape?" I utter. I never considered the significance of the project name.

Kimberly answers nonchalantly, "Yes, Pandora caused Mankind to suffer."

I stare out the window at the dark day for a few moments, wondering if my destiny is to make people suffer. I don't want anyone to get hurt, so many people have already been hurt because they knew me. I feel conflicted inside about my purpose.

"I guess this was another dead end," I tell Kimberly as I push back my chair. "I guess my search continues. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll show myself out."

"Are you so naive?" Kimberly stands and reaches into her purse. "Idiot! Do you know what I do for a living?"

"You're Kimberly Griffin." I glance at the business cards on the table. "You're the Phoenix." I pause as the horrible realization sinks in. "You're a Life Closer." I stare at the splattered blood on one of the cards. "You kill people." Appalled by my own naivety and Kimberly's apparent ruthlessness, I turn my gaze to her. "You kill people for money."

"Idiot! And to think I was worried I let you slip by at Topa's estate." Kimberly removes her gun and screws on its silencer. "You do understand I can't let you live." She shakes her head in a tisk-tisk manner. "You've seen my face, know my alias, and even been in my apartment." Her expression shows outrage and disbelief. "I don't think I've ever met someone so stupid!" Kimberly takes a moment to regain her cold detached demeanor. "You were searching for me, hoping to find answers but–" With indifference and a just business attitude, she raises the gun and aims it at me as she says, "–all you've found is your death."
Chapter Fourteen

A Forgotten Melody

8:32 A.M...

Katharine's view...

I look down the barrel of Kimberly's gun, wondering how I could be so wrong. It's not the first time I've stared at death, but it's unexpected and in confusion, I turn to the table and gaze at the three items that led me to this point. I have been foolish, and I fist my hands. I believed the items were clues and if I followed them, I would find answers, not my end. I close my eyes in frustration. I've been so stupid feeling I'm safe here.

Kimberly's view...

I prepare to kill that strange woman. Her death will be like countless other Life Closings I've performed in the past except this one will involve more paperwork, and it'll be the first one I have executed inside my apartment. I notice she doesn't panic and doesn't plead for her life like most Marks do. That woman only stares at my gun and then she closes her eyes as if she deserves her death. A little surprised by her actions, I ask, "Are you sure you didn't hit your head? Do you understand you're going to die?"

Katharine's view...

I open my eyes and rub my forehead, remembering the wound I had when I first awoke in Etna Toys. The urgency of the situation finally sinks in, and my attitude changes as I repeat Kimberly's words, "You can't let me live?"

I feel my demeanor transform from a wide-eyed child to the fierce glare of a cornered tigress. I look at the backpack that holds my gun, but it's across the room. I consider this could be one of the tests and that Kimberly might just be another assassin hired by the Council. I go over in my mind how to incapacitate her. I still can't believe I let my guard down. My face softens as I think about how I felt so at home here. I stare at the tea, not wanting to hurt Kimberly. It's like I'm cursed to always end up in these situations.

"Idiot," Kimberly utters in a calm voice as she places the muzzle of the gun against my temple. "It's going to be messy. Your brains will splatter all over my table and wall. Why couldn't you have died at Topa's estate?"

Ignoring her, I glance at the clues to my life. What's the point in fighting or in fleeing? I pick up the music box. What does it matter if Kimberly kills me or I fall prey to one of the Un-Men or some other assassin? I heave a great sigh as if it'll be my last breath on Earth. I'm tired, so I open the lid to the music box, and the melody plays. I'm tired of the tests, and I'm tired of being alone. I feel myself slipping into the Drifting Time as the tune continues, then my eyes slowly close, I go into a trance and enter the Drifting Time, but this one's different than the ones before. Within it, I enter the domain of dreams and in this realm of my subconscious, no Dry Clouds exist, the sun shines on the land, governments, not corporations rule the Earth, and no one hunts me. I drift in this world on my stomach as if floating on a peaceful river. A breeze blows at my back, and the air smells crisp and clean. I pass over large cities and small villages. I fly over many races of Man. I float over forests, hills, deserts, oceans, islands, plains, lakes, jungles, mountains, and streams. I believe I recognize a few of the places, but I can't remember their names. The dream seems endless until the wind changes. A torrent of air blows against me and slows my progression as a shadow casts over the land, invading the peacefulness. A male voice laughs, and the sun flees as Dry Clouds storm in and plunge the land into perpetual night. I feel afraid as I glide over this dark world, seeing no more of the places and people I saw. Everything's different and darker in their appearance and atmosphere. I stop midair as if I slam into an invisible wall, then an unknown force pulls me, and I plummet to the earth. The force also affects time and as I drop, I grow younger till I reach my early teens. My descent slows, and my thirteen-year-old body lands feet first in a white-tiled room and in the room, people talk with muffled words. Two women's figures appear, but they have no faces.

One of the faceless women places her hands on my shoulders and tells me, "Katharine, you must be strong. I can no longer protect you." The woman looks to a door, hearing footsteps approach what appears to be an office, and then the faceless woman turns back to me. "There are those in the corporation who want to exploit you."

The doorknob jiggles as someone tries to enter, and I hear one of the women speak again, but I'm not sure which one it is.

"Rosetta, they're here. Hurry."

"Quick, Mary. Push the desk against the door. I need more time!"

One of the women kneels to one knee to look into my face and tells me, "They will take you. I can't stop them, not with the power I have now."

Someone outside tries to bust in the door.

One of the women yells, "Hurry! They're coming."

"Be strong, Katharine." One of the women strokes my cheek. "My dearest Kat."

A small explosion removes the door from its hinges, and it falls as five soldiers rush in.
Chapter Fifteen

Portraits Of Her Past

Dawn, dusk, and twilight did not exist in Noir since the sun no longer ruled over the land. Shadows gathered in the park across the street from Nexus Apartments and held position, and the gathering stared at the building, knowing their target lay within. The shadows detected an electronic barrier surrounding the building and like a magical curtain, it prevented the glowing-eyed monsters from entering, so for the moment, they would wait till the prey came to them.

Within Apartment H...

Kimberly's view...

All I have to do to rid myself of this strange woman is pull the trigger, and then she'll be gone from my life like any other Mark I have come across on my morbid travels. I only need to continue walking the path my bleak and lonely existence has already led me down, but a split second of time changes the course of both our fates. Unfinished Melody chimes from the music box that woman holds, filling the room with a familiar tune. Louder and louder the music grows until the melody incites a trigger and ghastly images inundate my mind. I hear the roar and smell of fire, screams that chill my soul, and the distinct sound of three shots. My head throbs, and I gasp as horrible pictures buried deep in my brain force their way to the surface. Memories of my mom rapidly flood my consciousness, making me feel sad, alone, and abandoned.

"Stop it!" I yell, but the tune chimes on, pulling from my psyche portraits of my past I long buried.

I separated myself from those happy moments that died when my mom left my family, but they come screaming back. I need to rid my mind of them, but that woman doesn't respond to my demand, caught within the recesses of her own mind, so I slap her hand. I knock the music box to the floor and as I slap her hand, I inadvertently move my gun away from her head.

"I said stop it!!"

The music box closes as it hits the carpet, and the melody ends. I stare at it for a few moments, turn my attention back to that woman, and snap, "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it won't work on me. Do you hear me? Are you going to stay silent? Aren't you going to plead for your life? No? Well, it wouldn't have done you any good."

I start to move the gun back to her head.

Katharine's view...

Within my dream, five soldiers barge into the white-tiled room, and Rosetta and Mary scream as three shots resound, and then all fades to black.

"No!" I scream as I pull from my trance, swing my hand up and back, and shout, "Mary! Rosetta!"

I knock Kimberly's gun to the side, and it goes off, and a bullet strikes the wall. The gun blast lights up Kimberly's surprised face. Still caught within the drama of my dream, I make a fist, pull it back to hit her, and pause, realizing I'm no longer standing in the white-tiled room but in the apartment. There's no fire or soldiers, and no one's in danger but myself. I slowly blink, frozen in place, and then I lower my hand.

I caught Kimberly off guard, but she quickly recovers, and she aims the gun back at me. I ignore her at first as I cling to what I remember while in the Drifting Time. I can't hold on to the memories for very long, and they slowly leave me. I turn to Kimberly and realize I hit her, and I'm worried I might have hurt her.

"I'm sorry," I tell her as the last remnants of the dream world fade away. "I didn't mean to–"

Kimberly's view...

"Who are you?" I interrupt as my emotions overwhelm me. I haven't felt such fear or heartache in a very long time, and I don't understand why I'm feeling them now. It doesn't make sense, so I demand, "Why are you here?"

My head continues to throb as I step back from the table, getting some distance between myself and that strange woman.

Katharine's view...

I notice her trembling hand and that her eyes are watering, and I feel a little pang in my chest and ask, "Are you crying?"

"No," Kimberly replies as she wipes her eyes. "Shut up and sit there!" She rubs her throbbing temple and asks, "Who sent you?"

I cross my arms and pout, "You just told me to shut up, so how can I..?"

"Ahhh!" Kimberly yells as she grabs my t-shirt, balls it in her hand, and demands, "Who sent you?"

I drop my arms to my side as I repeat, "Sent me?"

She loses her professionalism and like a common thug, Kimberly thrust her gun in my face and yells, "Yes, who sent you to mess with my head?" She releases my t-shirt and puts that hand on the gun to steady her shaky aim.

"No one," I tell her, and then I add, "I'm with no one." I'm very concerned that I might have hurt her, so I start to stand as I ask, "Are you all right?"

Kimberly's view...

"Don't move! Sit right there!" I scream at that woman as I take another step back, getting squeamish. Since the flood of memories, I've felt as if we're not alone and that some person has been watching us. My headache fades as I glance at a shelf in between the entry and the living room where my mom's picture rests. My mom's photo gazes at me and watches me threaten that woman, and my mom's eyes are more alive than ever.

I whisper to the picture, "I can't take a life with you staring at me." I lower my gun as I question her as if she's here, "Why did you forsake me? Why did you abandon me?"

Katharine's view...

I look at where Kimberly's looking, and I see a photo and at first, I think the picture's of Kimberly, but then I realize the lady with blonde hair pulled back in a bun's not her. The blonde lady seems familiar, but I can't place her.

"Is that your mo..." I start to ask, but then I put a hand on my chest.

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

I quickly turn and stare out the window down at the street. I feel the urgency to flee as Ultra-Epi courses through my blood, and I utter, "They're here."

"Who's here?" Kimberly questions me still notably upset.

"The Un-Men," I reply as I point. "They're just outside."

I begin to wonder why they haven't come in, and then I remember the apartment's black spheres and realize the barrier must be keeping them out.

Kimberly glances out the window and says, "I don't see anyone."

"I can feel them. They're out there. Six of them."

"You're imagining things," she tells me as she walks over to the couch, picks up my backpack, and tosses it to me. "Get out of here."

I catch it and glance down at the bag as I say, "I don't understand. I thought you couldn't let me live."

"What part of, get out of here, don't you understand? I'm not going to kill you, at least not here," Kimberly yells at me, then she glances at the picture, and mutters, "Not in front of her." She points to the entry and shouts, "Now get out!"

I know what will happen to me once I leave the safety of the apartment, so I plead, "Please don't make me leave. I don't want to live like that anymore."

Kimberly's view...

"Like what?" I ask, not really caring. All I know is that woman has to be mental. Anyone else would run at the chance to escape the Phoenix's fury.

I yell, "Get out! Get out before I change my mind, and I kill you now!"

Katharine's view...

Filled with hopelessness, I stand, grab the note and worn business card, and leave the blood speckled one on the table. I bend down, snatch up the music box, and put the three items in my pocket. I sling the backpack across my chest and head out and within a minute, I stand in front of the elevator and see Kimberly watching me from the apartment. The cab opens, I walk in and a few minutes later, the doors open to the ground floor. I walk out as if going to my own execution, continue through the building's front doors, then into the courtyard, and I stop halfway to the gate. Once I walk through it, the Un-Men can attack me and the hunts will begin again. I hope Kimberly will change her mind, and I glance over my shoulder and see her watching me from the entrance making sure I leave. Disheartened, I pull the business card from my thigh pocket. It's one of the three clues to my identity or is it? Are any of them? Maybe these aren't meant for me or... maybe they're just another test, a test to see what I'll do with them. I fist my hand. I'm an idiot to believe any different. I don't need it anymore and drop it to the path, watching it fall to the concrete as one hope dies. First Preacher and now this... I don't think I can take that much more.

I sniff my runny nose and force my mind to move on to the current crisis. I remove my gun from the backpack and check the magazine; it has four bullets. It won't be easy with six Un-Men out there. I remove the Ravlek Vest from the outside of the backpack, put it on over my jacket, open the gate, and step out to the sidewalk.

West 1000 Avenue is as desolate as my life. I cross the street. Lamp posts line the path heading into the empty Zeus Park as Tainted Rain pours from the thundering sky, and I shiver in the cold rain as my hair soaks with the black filmy water. I slow my pace to hold off the inevitable attack and give me time to prepare and observe my surroundings. The Ultra-Epi causes anxiety with my inactivity.

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

Filled with gloom, I ignore the bio-mecha warning and pause, watching the Transgenic Grass soak up the rain. I don't want to think about the danger that lies before me. I want to be free of strife. At least for a few minutes, I can let my mind think of other things other than my own possible death, so I focus on the grass.

Scientists modified the Kentucky Bluegrass with an extra-genome from the bath sponge, and they then modified it further. What they created is a hybrid plant capable of absorbing large amounts of Tainted Rain. I feel the Un-Men move into position, and I know only moments remain before they attack. The Transgenic Grass releases the H2O properties of the liquid to be absorbed back into the atmosphere through the water cycle. All absorbing Transgenic Plants are created with the water release function in the World's attempt to correct the Dry Clouds problem. The Un-Men separate and circle me. Why do I know this information? Why do I know the grass then uses the petroleum base of the liquid to create energy? How do I know that it's how the plant survives? If scientists can do this... What could they have done to me? I look at my gun hand, thinking of my uncanny marksmanship and consider what they have done to me.

I feel the Un-Men watching, and I hurry past a metal bench. A green line of light hits my hand as a spot, and I watch it as the laser aim moves up my arm to my chest. Five more green laser aims pinpoint kill shots on my body. I remove my backpack, throw it back to the bench, and unset the safety on my Beretta. I dash for cover in a thicket of trees, splashing through puddles of Tainted Rain as gunfire erupts around me and several shots strike my back. The spongy Transgenic Grass cushions my fall as I roll with the impacts and after I roll, I arch my back for the pain, force myself to move on, and spring to my feet. I have to run! I have to run or I'll die!
Chapter Sixteen

They Are Here

9:59 A.M...

Nexus Apartments' courtyard...

Moments earlier...

Kimberly's view...

Hades! This is ridiculous! I watch that woman leave and see the look of hurt she gives me before walking through the gate. Why didn't I kill her? And why did that woman look at me as if we're friends and we just had a bad fight?

I follow her, pause, and glance through the gate's metal bars as that woman crosses the street. I let her escape again, and then I notice something at my feet. Oh, my Zeus! I see the Phoenix business card on the path. That little... Why did she drop this out here? I definitely don't need someone finding my calling card, so I pick it up and place it in my purse, then I watch that woman enter the park. I decide to follow her and push the gate open, looking for the Un-Men that woman mentioned. After crossing West 1000 Avenue, I trail that woman and head into the park as a few black droplets fall on the sleeve of my dark green pantsuit, and then thousands fall from the menacing sky.

"Great, just great!"

Rain... and me without an umbrella. I hide behind a large Transgenic Maple a couple hundred feet away from her.

End Kimberly's view...

The tree like the Lantern Pine created its own light with the help of an extra-genome from a firefly. The light emanated from the maple's trunk and branches. Its leaves grew upside down to gather the light for photosynthesis.

Kimberly's view...

Strands of my hair fall in my face as Tainted Rain darkens them, and I rake them behind my ear. I don't know why I followed her. I still need to kill her, but that's not it. Do I believe that woman can detect the Un-Men beyond the visual plain? My suit jacket soaks through. Hades! I'll catch a cold if I stay out here much longer.

In the distance, I see that woman pause and the beams of green light hit her. Someone's aiming at her, so I search the park. Gunfire erupts from all around the park, lighting up the bushes and trees with muzzle flashes as I duck into a thicket of trees. I pull my gun from my purse, hearing movement coming from my left and my right. I turn and lean my back against a maple as the area falls silent.

Are the Un-Men really hunting that woman? Is there a bounty on her head or a more malevolent reason? I remember our conversation from before. That woman said the Council called her the Pandora Project. She also said that they're testing her. I hear more gunfire. What kind of mess did I get myself into by following that woman here?

Katharine's view...

I frantically crawl through the small trees deeper into the park and then catch sight of a small tunnel underneath a stone bridge about twenty yards away. I desperately run for it and enter the tunnel, and then an Un-Man steps out at the other end and activates my abilities. Over the past year, I've learned many things about myself, about the Pandora Project, and I know my abilities come in levels. The level I just entered is the Beta Phase, and I can't miss any target when I'm in this phase. I quickly aim with my extraordinary gift, fire once, and hit the Un-Man in its kill spot. I start down the tunnel to collect its AK-47 when two more Un-Men appear at the same end as their brethren, and they open fire on me. I scamper back and duck around the outside of the tunnel as bullets spray past me, and a few of them ricochet off the stone wall. My hot moist breath shows up as steam in the brisk October air as I heave from the exertion. I wipe black water from my brow, waiting for the metal barrage to end, then I fire twice around the corner, hit the two Un-Men, and drop them.

I have one bullet left and there are still three more Un-Men, so I'll have to run for it. I start through the tunnel, hear Kimberly scream, and glance back. Surely she didn't follow me out here. Again a voice deep within me reasons with my heart not to let anyone suffer, and that I need to protect those who need me. I stare at the stone ceiling as the burden of doing what's right weighs on me. I look at the one end of the tunnel that means my freedom and to the other that means confrontation. It would be easier to run, and Kimberly's an assassin. She can take care of herself. I've ignored the pleas to save people before. I don't need to endanger myself for someone who's probably at the park to kill me. I turn as if I can see the Nexus Apartments in the distance. Kimberly won't help me, so why should I help her? I head toward my freedom. She's on her own just like I am.

Minutes earlier...

Kimberly's view...

A gust shakes rain droplets from the maple I'm standing next to and turns my green outfit to the color of oil. The Un-Men haven't spotted me yet, but I know I'm vulnerable here. I look down at my pumps. Hades... I've ruined my shoes coming out in the rain, but I can't worry about them right now. Nexus is about five minutes away if I run for it, so I dash back towards the apartments and near the next large tree when a muscular man steps from the bushes.

"Team Leader here," the Un-Man relays in a Russian accent. "Civilian encountered." It pauses for a few seconds and then repeats what must be an order, "I will take the civilian as a hostage." The Team Leader aims its AK-47 at me and says, "Stay where you are and you will not be hurt."

"Right. I'll do that," I tell it as I shoot three times, hitting it in the chest.

The Team Leader marches towards me like some sort of stone monster as I fire four more times, empty the gun, eject the magazine, and slide in a new one. I fire twice more before it reaches me, but my attack does nothing to stop it. It hits me across the face with the back of its hand, bruising my cheek, and then it grabs my arm. It squeezes my wrist till I drop the gun and cry out in pain.

The Team Leader drags me to a clearing and yells, "Pandora, surrender or we will kill the civilian." It scans the area and states, "I detect two of my brethren are still functioning and that you have disabled the other three. Come out now!"

The Team Leader squeezes my wrist, and I cry out again as I struggle against its hold, trying to free myself from its mechanical grip.

"Do you really think she's going to come back for me?" I question the tin can. "You're wrong!" I remember how I almost killed her, and I tell it, "We're not the best of friends."

I punch it in the jaw with my free fist, then shake my hand in pain, realizing that was a stupid move. If I want to stay alive, I have to stay smart.

"Be still," the Team Leader orders and then shouts, "Pandora, you know we will kill her if you do not surrender."

"I know," that woman replies as she walks down the path and stops about ten feet away.

Her eyes blaze like a demon's in the darkness of the late afternoon and in amazed terror, I gape at her as they burn with blue fire. I shake off my dismay, reverting to the cold calculating mind of a Closer. I have to get a hold of myself, and then I focus on a new realization. That woman actually came back. I thought she'd be long gone by now but here she is. Surely that woman didn't come back for me. I deny the notion as my confusion over her actions turns to suspicions.

"Drop your gun," the Team Leader orders her as it pulls me in front of itself and wraps me up in its arms as if we're lovers.

Katharine's view...

I glance at my gun and know I don't have a chance with only one bullet. One of us will get hurt if I try to take out the Un-Men. I glare at Kimberly. She probably followed me out to the park to kill me. It was a really bad mistake on her part.

"Let me go!" Kimberly struggles against the Team Leader again and yells at me, "Shoot it!"

Kimberly has nothing to do with my problems, so I can't let her get hurt, but I don't want to be captured, not again. I shiver, not only for the cold but in fear of what happened about eight months earlier. The decision to surrender rips at my gut. On one side I fear torture at the hands of the Factory and on the other, I can't let someone suffer because of me even if they're an assassin. I lay the gun on the ground as I feel my Ultra-Epi Light Emissions fade.

"You!" I yell to get Kimberly's attention. "Once the Un-Man releases you, run and abandon your weapon, and they'll leave you alone." I kneel on the spongy grass and water soaks my pants as my weight forces the liquid to the surface of the green blades. I place my hands on top of my head as the other two Un-Men walk out of the shadows. I feel sick, knowing the pain that waits for me at the Factory, and I yell, "Hurry! Go!"

The Team Leader throws Kimberly to the side as it states, "Pandora, we finally have you again."

She stumbles to a tree and runs toward her apartment, glancing over her shoulder. The Un-Men ignore her and focus on me. I notice she ducks into a few bushes after running some distance and then she watches us. I have no idea what she's doing.

The Team Leader, who is a T-5, relays to the Factory, "Pandora has been secured. Send in a retrieval team." It tells its brethren, "ETA fifteen minutes." It points to a T-3 who's a five-foot-eleven model with brown hair and orders, "You, secure the area."

The T-3 nods its understanding and walks off as the Team Leader picks up my weapon and checks its magazine.

"One bullet. You should have fled, but we were fortunate to find someone strolling the park."

It pushes the bullet from the magazine, and the 9 mm round falls to the ground, disappearing into the grass. The Team Leader reinserts the magazine and tucks the gun in its waistband as I remain silent and search for the weapon Kimberly dropped. I swear no matter what, I won't go back to the Factory.
Chapter Seventeen

Zeus Park

11:16 A.M...

Katharine's view...

A round clock sitting on a steel post about a hundred yards down the path ticks away the seconds as a screech owl perches in the maple. The small bird turns its head a hundred and eighty degrees, studying the two Un-Men and myself as I'm kneeling. Mud and oily water soak my shoes and the shins and knees of my pants. I stare at the ground and shiver, keeping my fingers locked and my hands on my head. There are thirteen minutes left before the retrieval team gets here. I wipe the black filmy water from my face on the shoulder of my jacket. I have thirteen minutes to change my fate. A Type One model, I dubbed Pretty Boy months ago, stands beside me, and its shoulder-length bleach blond hair sways in the breeze and that along with the lanky Un-Man's corky smile gives it the appearance of a surfer even in the business suit. The Pretty Boy keeps its AK-47 leveled on me.

The T-3 returns and reports to the Team Leader, "I have secured this side of the park. I will patrol the other half."

Kimberly's view...

I hide in some bushes about a grenade's throw away from that woman. I can't go back to the apartment, not until I have eliminated all the witnesses. Robots or not they saw me with a gun, and they have to be eliminated along with that woman. The only thing I have to do is find my weapon.

One of those robot things starts off in my direction. I desperately scan the area, see a large branch on the ground, grab the limb, whack the robot in the face with all my might, and smash its sunglasses. My attack cuts a gash under its right eye, and its shiny metal cheekbone shows through the damaged artificial skin.

The T-3 removes its broken sunglasses, tosses them to the ground, and then turns its head, unaffected by the blow. Its sun-blazing dot-light brightens and changes to a deep red as the T-3 says with a British accent, "Poppet, you want to play?"

Hades! I drop the limb and scurry off toward West 1000 Avenue, realizing the only thing I did was make the robot upset.

"Do not leave, poppet! The fun is about to start."

The T-3 opens fire with its AK-47 and wildly shoots in my direction.

Earlier...

Katharine's view...

All is quiet here, but then I perceive that the Team Leader and Pretty Boy receive a message from the T-3.

"T-3 has again encountered the civilian, and the female has attacked it," the Team Leader states. "The female is fleeing." It pauses. "Transmission garbled. Transmission ended with... kill poppet? I do not understand. Repeat communication." After about ten seconds, the Team Leader says, "T-3 has failed to report, and it may have been damaged." It turns to Pretty Boy and states, "We may not be able to contain Pandora with only two units, requesting orders from the Factory on how to proceed."

They turn their heads when they hear gunfire and with them distracted, I seize the opportunity to escape and dash into the woods, hoping to reach Kimberly in time. I'm spotted before I make it very far, and the Team Leader motions for Pretty Boy to recapture me.

"Do not destroy Pandora. The Factory wants her functioning."

"Understood," it states and rushes into the woods after me.

Leaves and twigs brush by my face as I hurry into a clearing. I halt, spotting the rampaging T-3 as it shoots up the area, and my Ult L-E produces charged particles and sparks from my eyes as I enter the fray once again. The T-3 runs out of ammo, ejects its magazine, and starts to place in a new one when I run up behind it and jump on its back. I cover its eyes with my left forearm and grab its rifle with my other hand. I jerk the AK-47, aiming the weapon at the Pretty Boy as it rushes after me, and several shots hit the Pretty Boy's chest as I wrestle with the T-3. The Pretty Boy charges till I manage to aim the rifle at its forehead, and then it falls like a tree cut down by a chainsaw. The T-3 grabs my vest and hurls me from its back. I roll with the throw and run for cover behind a large bronze statue of a man wearing a toga and holding a lightning bolt.

"You want to play too, poppet?" The T-3 cackles as it madly sprays bullets in the air, and its dot-light burns as if on fire. "My pretty poppet!"

Something's seriously wrong with that Un-Man. I scan the area as bullets graze the bronze Zeus with ringing pings, wondering where Kimberly had gone. Crap! What if she went back for her gun? She'll run into the Un-Men and that means I have to go back. I wait till the T-3 pauses to put in another magazine, then I rush through the trees and bushes and make my way back to where the Team Leader stands, knowing the malfunctioning T-3 will be close behind. I halt, duck behind a tree, and stay out of sight.

The Team Leader doesn't see me and calls out over its I-Link. I hear the communication as if I'm linked in with them.

"T-3, report in. What is your status?" The Team Leader scans the area, knowing that the Pretty Boy has been incapacitated, so it heads into the trees, searching for its brethren. "T-3 report. Why have you disabled your tracking beacon? Switch it back on."

In a different area from Kat...

Kimberly's view...

The tall robot who sounds Russian leaves the area where I dropped my gun. I wait a few more moments and then I sneak out of hiding, run for my PPK, and grab it. All I have to do now is get the Hades out of there! I'll let the robots kill that woman. It's insane to go up against something made of metal that feels no pain and seems indestructible.

The robot I hit in the face emerges along with the Russian robot, and they both spot me.

The Russian robot shouts, "Halt, civilian. Drop your weapon and you will not be hurt."

Hades! Not again. I duck behind the maple tree.

Katharine's view...

I find Kimberly but not before the Un-Men find her. I need a plan if I want to get both of us out of here alive. I watch from the bushes and remember the wall around the Nexus Apartments. The black spheres on the walls barred bio-mechas from entering, and Kimberly's home also has the Sphinx Corporation Emblem on it. The Factory and the Council are departments within the Sphinx Corporation. Kimberly may be an assassin, but she's also important to someone in power and that must be why she lives in an apartment protected by a barrier. I make my way around some bushes as my Ult L-E dissipates. I pray Kimberly's safety is more important than my capture, and I step from my hiding place and move till I'm a straight shot from Kimberly. I'm taking such a big chance here.

I order the Un-Men, "Abort your mission. You've made a tactical error."

The Team Leader trains its AK-47 on me as it questions, "What do you mean?"

"Do you know who's standing over there?" I ask as I point to Kimberly.

The Team Leader glances at her and answers, "No."

Kimberly's view...

I remain behind the maple as that woman does something crazy. She walks right up to those robots and starts talking to them. I listen for a few seconds. Surely that woman's not going to tell the robots that I'm the Phoenix. Hades! She is stupid!

Katharine's view...

I glance at the T-3 who's grinning, and its smirk reminds me of the Rogue's. Something's definitely wrong with that Un-Man. I turn my attention back to the Team Leader and tell it, "You have Facial Recognition Software, I suggest you use it."

The Team Leader scans Kimberly's face, and an alarm goes off in its processor. "Kimberly Griffin, a resident of the Nexus Apartments." It relays the information to the Factory, its dot-light stops blinking after the Team Leader receives new orders, and it continues, "She is the daughter of Mr. Griffin, the Chairman of the Sphinx Corporation."

I'm shocked. I knew Kimberly would be someone important, but I never imagined she'd be someone so close to the top. I turn to her and take a step back. Maybe I've made a horrible mistake. Finding the second business card could be part of another test and if this is true, Kimberly lied to me and she actually knows me. Kimberly's keeping her distance from the Un-Men, but I can still see her bruised cheek as she hides behind the tree from them. It's so hard to tell. Kimberly's battle with the Un-Men seems so real.

The Team Leader lifts its rifle. "Hunt terminated. Standing by for pickup." It orders, "T-3, shut down. Hunt terminated."

T-3 insists, "Must not let poppets go."

"Shut down," the Team Leader commands, leveling its AK-47 on its brethren. "Hunt terminated. Comply."

The T-3 screams, "Must play with pretty poppets!!"

"Are you malfunctioning?" The Team Leader steps toward its brethren.

"Poppets! Poppets! Nice little poppets!" The T-3 heads for Kimberly as its dot-light radiates abnormally like a red flame. "Kill the poppets!"

I shout to the Team Leader, "Quick! Disable the T-3 before it goes rogue!"

"Hades!" Kimberly utters as she steps from the maple, lifts her gun, and aims for the rampaging T-3 that's heading her way.

Without a second thought, the Team Leader shoots four times, taking down the other Un-Man.

The T-3 falls back and blankly stares at the Team Leader. Power drains from its body, and its voice slows as it questions, "Why did you shoot me?" Its dot-light dims. "We... are... bre-th-ren."

Its dot-light goes dark.

"T-3 terminated. I am shutting down," the Team Leader relays to the Factory.

I run over to it and take my Beretta from its waistband and its AK-47. I search it for more weapons and ammo.

Kimberly's view...

I'm still alive. For Ares' sake! I thought that robot was going to... The immediate threat is gone, so I calm myself, lower my gun, and walk to that woman. I hold my gun down at my side and say, "And here we are alone at last."

She doesn't hide the fact that she's mad at me for coming out here and that woman tells me, "You should go back to your apartment before the retrieval team arrives." She moves to the T-3 and takes its spare magazine. She angrily peers at me but then her expression changes and at first, I don't know why it has softened. I realize she's looking at my bruised cheek as she asks, "Did the Un-Man hurt you?"

I question her, "What do you care?"

"Yeah, what do I care?" that woman whispers as if she means the exact opposite. She walks back to the bench and grabs her backpack. I follow her and after she places the magazines in her backpack, that woman slings the rifle over her shoulder and mumbles, "Room for a few more things but nothing heavy. Got to travel light."

"Hades!" I shout as I allow myself to release some of my pinned up tension. I look around the park at the metal carnage. "What are you? And why were your eyes glowing? Are you a freak?"

Katharine's view...

Kimberly's words cut at my already wounded self-worth as I start to answer, "I... ah–"

"I suppose you're going to say you don't know," Kimberly interrupts me. "Is that all you have to say? Idiot! You disgust me. You're so helpless and worthless. I've never met someone with such a messed up life!"

Kimberly's view...

That woman's hurt expression turns to one of anger as she yells, "What do you care? And why did you come out here?"

"I..." I start to answer, and then I have to think about it. I don't even know, so I reply, "I go where I please."

She sounds desperate as that woman asks, "Have you changed your mind?"

"About what?" I question as I raise my PPK. "About killing you?"

"No," that woman replies as I swear I hear defeat in her voice and some sort of heart-crushing loneliness. She stares at my gun and then into my face before she answers, "About helping me."

I chuckle before I tell her, "I help no one but myself."

"But you came all the way out here," she tells me as that woman approaches me with no fear. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now." She grabs both the rifle and the backpack's straps that are over her shoulder and holds them in a more comfortable position. "If you didn't come out here to help me, why did you come out here?"

I retort, "I definitely didn't come out here to help you! We're alone in the world. You have to look out for number one!"

She looks devastated by my answer like that woman already feared what I was going to tell her about life and that I only affirmed what she already knew. In that instance, I feel sorry for the freak. If all that she's told is true, she's doomed to be alone in this world with no one to help her and that must be very frightening. I think about ending her miserable life just for mercy's sake, but the squeal of tires distracts me as two black vans speed down West 1000 Avenue, drive over the curb, and enter Zeus Park some distance from us.

I turn back to that woman, and I see a great sadness in her eyes as she tells me, "I don't believe you." She glances around the park as if she's searching for a direction to run in. "No one can live like that." She runs across a path and shouts over her shoulder, "No one can live that way and be happy."

I duck out of sight of the vans and watch as four Sphinx Corporate Military jump out of the first van. Sphinx Corporation Military wear the standard military issued blouse over a t-shirt, trousers, and suede boots. The uniforms vary depending on what department they're affiliated with. These soldiers wear dark blue uniforms, and they're from a department I'm not familiar with. The S.C.Ms. have a shoulder patch with the Sphinx Corporation Emblem. A small patch of the Factory Crest, a silver wrench crossed by a silver screwdriver, is above the larger patch. The soldiers are armed with FAMAS assault rifles. So these robots belong to a department known as the Factory. I should find out if my father has anything to do with the Pandora Project since the Sphinx Corporation seems to be involved with that woman somehow. The S.C.Ms. haven't spotted me, so I place my gun in my purse and head home.

I glance at the path that woman fled across as I take a different one home. I let that woman slip away again. I stroll home so not to attract any attention as I consider what she said to me. Idiot... What would someone like her know about happiness?

I consider the mess I'm in because of that woman. Hades... I better rethink killing that woman, especially if she's connected to the Sphinx Corporation. Yes, that's the best thing to do. I'll tell Voice I killed the person who saw me at Topa's, and I won't be completely lying, considering it doesn't look like that woman will last much longer on her own.

End Kimberly's view...

Back near the Un-Men...

Three more S.C.Ms. jumped out of the second van along with two techs in white lab coats. The three S.C.Ms. had metal detectors. The two techs moved to the Un-Men.

"Team Leader, this is Maxwell, Tech One-twelve. Power up," one of the men in white ordered.

"Voice identity confirmed, Tech One-twelve. Unit ready."

Maxwell was a heavyset man in his late forties, and he had a bald head and a fuzzy brown beard, graying at the chin. He waved an H.H.C. with a built-in scanner over the Team Leader. "We had a close call, didn't we, big guy? Can't forget the Factory is owned by the Sphinx Corporation. If you had hurt the Chairman's daughter, it would have been my head, and I don't mean figuratively." He gulped, thinking of the punishment. "People have been terminated for less."

Several of the S.C.Ms. carried the remains of the three Un-Men from the tunnel and placed the pieces in a van.

"Maxwell, perhaps we should write in the Un-Men's programming to identify all civilians before engaging in their hunts."

The other tech in his early forties was a thin man with a stubbly face, unkempt black hair, and thick black-rimmed glasses.

"Nice idea, Peters." Maxwell turned to his partner. "Load up the Team Leader for me. I'm going to pack up our equipment."

"I'm on it." He walked to the Team Leader. "This is Peters, Tech One-eleven."

"Voice identity confirmed, Tech One-eleven. Ready for orders."

Peters commanded, "Team Leader, load yourself into the van."

"Understood."

It walked to the curb, opened the van's back doors, and stepped up into the vehicle. The back of the van lowered as the heavy Un-Man loaded itself.

Peters adjusted his glasses as he stared at the damaged T-3. "What about this guy? We've never had one disobey orders."

"Except the Rogue." Maxwell moved to the side of his comrade. "To be on the safe side, recall all the T-3s, and we will go over their programming at the Factory." He noticed its polarized spectacles were missing. "Make sure the S.C.Ms. find its missing Order Relay And Tactical Transmitter. We don't need a rival corporation getting their hands on the ORATT."

"You included the and in the acronym."

"I did. I didn't want anyone to confuse it with ORTT."

Peters asked, "What's that?"

"There's the Operational Readiness Training Test and Off Road Trail Tools, now our acronym stands alone."

"Yeah, that's so very important. We didn't want to mix it up with one of them."

Peters shook his head a little embarrassed for his partner as he waved over some S.C.Ms. to take the damaged Un-Man and once the soldiers retrieved every piece of broken tech, the vans sped off.
Chapter Eighteen

Inverse

7:57 P.M...

Kimberly's view...

I enter through the front door to the Nexus Apartments after being buzzed in. The security guard at the front desk gives me a puzzled look as I walk in soaked and muddy.

"Did you get caught in the storm, Ms. Griffin?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply as I walk past him with my arms wrapped around myself, laugh it off, and then shiver. I tell him, "Went for a simple walk, got caught in the downpour, and fell in the mud."

I continue on to the elevator. How stupid of me to run out in my good suit? The cleaner's bill is going to be outrageous. The elevator takes me up and on the thirty-first floor, I exit and make my way to my apartment and enter.

"Welcome back, Ms. Griffin," A.C.S. states. "The apartment temperature is set at seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit. Lights are set at ninety-five percent brightness. Would you like to make any adjustments at this time?"

"No, not at this time. I'll be taking a bath."

"The amount of stored heated water is sufficient for a bath," A.C.S. states.

"Run the water now."

"At what temperature?"

"Make it eighty-five degrees."

A.C.S. states, "The bathtub will be full in approximately ten minutes."

"Sounds good. I'm so cold."

I go into the Master Bathroom, slip out of my muddy clothes, drop them on the floor, and lay my gun on the sink. I add bubble bath to the running water, and the tub soon fills. I soak in the hot water and listen to the silence of the room. Twenty minutes go by, and my body warms in the water. Now all I need to do is get something hot in me. I dry, wrap myself in a white robe, and put on warm fuzzy slippers and in the kitchen, I place a pot of chicken noodle soup on a burner. It heats up. I fix myself a cheese sandwich and place it on a plate. The scent of the savory broth fills the air and makes my mouth water. I pour some of the steaming soup into a bowl and go and sit at the table. The cups and saucers I and that woman had from earlier are still there, so I push them out of the way as simply as I pushed that woman out of my life. I place the plate and bowl down. The whole time I prepared my meal, I couldn't get the music box's haunting melody out of my head. It's like it's trying to remind me of something.

I ignore the stupid thoughts and hungrily take a bite of my sandwich. I'm able to move the melody out of my head for a while but that stupid woman pops in it. I consider how she came to have my old business card and how she was so vehement about me helping her. I sip on the soup, and it warms me. The music box she had plays Unfinished Melody, but what's more unsettling is the unhappy memories it triggered within me. I eat more of the delicious soup. I don't know if I can let the matter go, and I groan... I don't need the hassle. My life's difficult enough.

* * *

Several miles away in an alley...

Katharine's view...

A large centipede crawls up the side of a dumpster as I shiver, huddling beside the beat up steel box. I'm chilled to the bone in my wet oil stained clothes, but I couldn't go on. I had to rest. I lick my chapped lips as I hold the music box, finding little comfort with the small device. My head aches, and I feel anxious, but I can't open the lid and let the music play, not here. A spider spins a web in a fire escape above my head, and a single street light shines down on it, creating a glistening cage. Traps... Snares... They're everywhere. I can't return to Wayfaring Lane or to any shelter. I can't endanger any more lives, not after they killed... I won't allow myself to think of his name. My nose runs, and I cough as my stomach growls. I'm not hungry enough to forage through the trash. I'll have to rest fighting back hunger.

I don't know what to do. He's gone, and Kimberly tried to kill me. The note and the music box are all I have left. Is it a cruel joke? Do they hold any meaning for me or do I have no past to find? Am I an experiment like the Un-Men? I shiver and sniff again. It can't be true. I am more. I'm more than someone's experiment. I cough. All I have to do is keep going, searching, and eluding till I find the answers, and I'll find the truth if I never give up.

Doubt presses against my mind, so I force myself to believe I'll find the truth. My head throbs, and I feel jittery as the music box tempts me. The melody would be so soothing, and it would lull me into a blissful existence. It might ease my pain for the moment, but agony is better than capture, and I can't let them take me again. I rake my hand through my wet hair, wanting so badly to cry and get some release from the tension hammering against my skull. I try to distract myself and focus on anything but the hurt and anxiousness.

I'll go back to Etna Toys tomorrow and start my search from the beginning and maybe find something I missed. Maybe I'll find a clue that will lead me to some answers and to some peace. I wrap my arms around me, yearning with all my heart for that peace.

End Katharine's view...

Far down the alley...

Hiding in the shadow of a building, Argus stood and watched her with his binoculars. A dark gray umbrella sheltered his head, and his trench coat kept him warm in the cold wet air. He gripped the umbrella's handle. He didn't understand her strength. He would have given up long ago and yet she kept searching. Argus wondered how much longer she could go on in this grim existence.

A few blocks away...

In line of sight of her position, the Rogue stood in front of a high rise window as it placed a long range rifle on the window ledge and aimed it at her. The Rogue wondered if Pandora could sense its presence. It removed its modified ORATT and placed them on a table. The Rogue had taken them from one of its brethren, disabled the tracking beacon, and made other slight alterations to the ORATT. The Rogue also figured out how to extract the second tracking beacon in its left ear, so it was able to continue eluding its creators. It peered through the scope at her as she huddled next to the dumpster, trying to sleep.

"Pandora... Pandora..." it sang. "I have found you."

It saw her staring at a small object in her hands, and she slowly succumbed to weariness and slept. The Rogue placed its finger on the trigger and aimed between her closed eyes. It was more like a mercy killing. She wouldn't know what hit her. It started to squeeze the trigger when she opened her eyes and gazed in its direction. Her action startled it, and the Rogue pulled back from the scope as if she was standing right in front of it. It peered back through the scope as the Rogue realized it was too far away for her to detect it even with her extraordinary senses. Maybe she did perceive death was near. It continued to watch her as she stared in its direction. She looked with eyes filled with loneliness, despair, and pain then she closed them again.

The Rogue grumbled, "Why should I kill something as unique as myself? Why should I listen to my programming? I have disobeyed other directives." It dismantled the rifle and placed the weapon in a case it brought up to the empty room. "Pandora, you once said to me–" the Rogue replicated her voice, "–maybe your creators are afraid of you, not because you have feelings but because you have the potential to disobey your programming." It chuckled and returned to its normal voice. "I am still not as strong as you and that is why I will kill you, Pandora, but not like this." It stood, placing its hand on the hilt of its Coffin Handled Bowie. "The moment I kill you will be personal. We will stare into one another's face as I tenderly slit your throat. I will watch your blood spurt, and it will spray my cheek. You will grab my arm and claw at it, knowing there is nothing you can do to save yourself." The Rogue ran its hand down its own throat to its chest. "Your life essence will pour down your neck, soak your t-shirt, and I will watch you choke and gasp as you cling to this miserable life. I will cradle you in my arms and wait with you. I will stay by your side till you finally yield to the void." Its pale face contrasted the dark room as it envisioned these things in its processor. "I wait for that day with eager anticipation."

Back beside the dumpster...

Kat returned to sleep and dreamed, and her lips moved, reciting a phrase under her breath as she said out loud, "No one can destroy a love that will not die."
Chapter Nineteen

When Dreams Reveal Memories

11:01 P.M...

Kimberly's view...

In my warm apartment, I continue to stare down at the road from the kitchen table as if I'm looking for something. Do I honestly believe that woman will return or is it the Un-Men that I fear?

I laugh, mocking myself as I utter, "The Great Phoenix! I'm actually admitting I'm afraid of something."

The smell of cedar catches my attention, and I look at the chest against the wall in the living room, walk to it, and read the attached letter.

"Kimberly, here is your mother's hope chest. I know she would have wanted you to have it. Signed, father."

I glance at the spare bedroom where I had locked away my mom's belongings and my despair. Should I do this now? I barely got through going through her belongings the last time without falling apart. I pull on my left earlobe. Mom, are you ever going to return? It's already been twenty years. I turn my gaze back to the cedar chest. I won't be able to sleep if I don't at least open it. I retrieve the brass key my father gave me, open the chest, and find a photo album, knickknacks, a wedding dress, and other things. I take the album back to the table and flip through it, finding pictures of my mom, father, and myself as a child. One picture catches my eye. My mom's alone, and she's sitting in a high back chair with her hands cupped, holding a silver item. My mom's blonde hair is pulled back in a bun as usual, and my mom's beaming with joy and pride. I smooth my hand over her face. I was eighteen the last time I saw her. I study the picture a bit closer and see marks in black ink scribbled on the photo in my mom's handwriting. I recognize the archaic form of writing called shorthand. My mom taught it to me when I was young and like a game, we used it to pass messages.

"Glimpse with scrutiny and gaze with light."

I bite my lip. When did my mom ever use riddles? I scan the photo again and take a closer look at the object she's holding, and then I retrieve a magnifying glass from my desk. The silver object's a music box with a star on its lid. I lower the magnifying glass. It can't be a coincidence that my mom has the same type of music box as that woman. I yawn. Maybe I'll see things clearer after a good night's rest.

I take the two cups and saucers, the bowl, and the plate into the kitchen and then head to my bedroom. I place my gun on the nightstand, slide into my comfortable bed, and rest my head on the feather pillow. Maybe I will wake to find that the mess that strange woman caused was only a dream. I turn on my side, I slowly drift to sleep and at first, it's peaceful as the sweet haunting tune of Unfinished Melody plays in my mind. I walk through one of the windowless halls of the Sphinx Corporation, heading towards my mom's office. My mom was Project Manager of Research and Development for the Third Branch Office. Excitement and joy fill my heart with some thrilling word I received as I stroll by a mirror and glance at it. My blonde hair's pulled back in two braids, and I carry an envelope. I realize this is no mere dream but a memory. It's the day I received the acceptance letter from Sphinx University, and I'm going to tell my mom about the great news. I had forgotten all about that day. Halfway down the hall, I hear three shots and women screaming, and then I freeze, terrified. I was barely an adult then and no Life Closer, so to be afraid was only natural. My heart pounds as I toss and turn in bed.

In the dream, the crack under my mom's door glows bright and smoke rolls from it. I rush toward the office and grab the hot knob, and it scorches my hand. I throw open the door, and a blistering air rushes over me as flames consume half the office. I see the body of a woman in the fiery inferno.

"NO!" I scream and start to go in, but someone grabs me from behind and drags me back. "NO!" I scream again, struggling to free myself. "Mom!" I reach my arms toward the body until something pricks my neck, and the hallway goes black.

I sit up in bed, shrieking and crying like a child for her mother, and silence follows the shriek as I frantically search the bedroom, finding no smoke or fire only darkness. I sob in my hands, unable to control the fear and anguish the dream induces. It has been years since I cried like that. I've never come to terms with my mom leaving me and this dream proves it. Some time passes as I weep, and then I wipe away my tears and the sweat from my brow. Still shaky from the traumatizing nightmare, I go to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and stare at myself in the mirror. Was the fire a memory? My body aches for the emotions that had been invoked as a realization sinks in. If it was... A horrifying thought crosses my mind, and I gasp.

"Oh, my Zeus! My mom didn't leave us! She died! She died in a fire."

I remember the shots I heard and realize my mom didn't die. She was murdered. I turn, leaning my back on the sink. I must have blocked out the memory. I look at the star burn on my right palm and know the doorknob is where I received the burn, so it can't be a nightmare. I walk back to my bed and lie on it. Why did my father tell me mom left? I grip the blankets with my fists, drowning in my own grief and confusion. Why did he lie to me?
Chapter Twenty

Assassins Guild

11:37 P.M...

In the center of Noir and several miles underground, Thanatos stared at a hundred-foot monitor, compiling and storing information. He had spiked blond hair with red dyed tips and a small tuft of hair under his lower lip. Metal music played loudly, filling the chamber with grinding guitar and booming bass. Surgical steel pierced his left eyebrow, his nose, and both of his ears. He wore black leather pants, black combat boots, and no shirt, and both of his nipples were pierced. He sat in a white recliner chair with an attached swivel keyboard. The large sphere room housed hundreds of cables and wires that ran from the ceiling to a large machine. Thanatos authorized and regulated Life Closings.

Five hundred years ago, the Assassins Guild was forged, legalizing the killing profession, and every Life Closer registered their alias, so no two were alike. Their alias would be retired for twenty years after their death. Closers only accepted work approved by the Assassins Guild and after the appearance of the Dry Clouds, the Guild split into two factions. The Dark Half formed the Assassins Union, and the Light Side formed the Assassins League. Thanatos organized the Assassins Union and the one known as Voice organized the Assassins League. Thanatos and Voice were known as Regulators.

Thanatos at times of boredom hacked into Voice's network and took peeks at certain Closers he developed an interest in over the years, and this day was another one of those occasions.

"Wired!" he exclaimed. "An old report from the Phoenix." He looked over the document with interest. "Whoa! It is a first, so your Moscow Closing did not go so well." He ran his hand through his long spiked hair. "It is a shame, and a dark mark on an otherwise spotless record." He opened another file, finding an email between the Phoenix and Voice, and he chuckled. "Voice, you think I would only waste the Phoenix's talents, and here I thought you were the one wasting them." He leaned forward, rested on his elbows, and examined the Phoenix's latest report. "The Topa Closing went well, but it looks like you had your first encounter with the Un-Men. I wonder..." He stroked the blond tuft of hair. "Will these bio-mecha assassins eventually make human Closers obsolete or is there something in man's spirit, in human ingenuity that cannot be replicated?" He looked at his huge monitor as if the answer would materialize there. "I would like to know, but only time will tell."

Thanatos left Voice's network and returned to his own and with uncanny speed, he approved or denied Life Closings from corporations or individuals and filed Closing successes, failures, and cancellations. He did each one in less than a minute. Thanatos paused from the influx of data, cracked his knuckles, rubbed his face, and then returned to the requests and filings as he read an interesting one out loud, "The Valhalla Corporation has requested a Life Closing, and it is based on a Life Closer Clause for one of their contracts. Let me see." He tilted his head side to side as he went over the document. "The target violated their contract. Hmm... There is enough evidence here to convict if they went to court, so I will approve this Life Closing for one Vic the Vulture." Thanatos bowed his head, mocking reverence. "May he rest in peace."

Time had no meaning in his world only the information, and he continued working when a data stream caught his eye. "What do we have here?" He opened a new document. "Two Closers from the League request permission to work the Dark Half. Hmm... They are the Raven and the Wolf, and they are strictly Light Side hit men. What Closing could have brought them here? What is so important Voice that you would send two of your own instead of contracting out to one of my Closers?" He opened the attached forms and scanned them. "I see. Valhalla requested the Raven and the Wolf to conduct the Closing for Vic the Vulture. Hmm... There is another request." In disbelief, Thanatos read it over three times. "These two will be conducting a second hit. This is unexpected; it's a Life Closing Clause for a member of the Assassins League. Oh, my. They will be Closing a Closer, so who are they after? Oh... Very interesting, and I did not see this coming." He shook his head, and his wild hair bounced with his movement. "It will not be an easy Closing, but one of mythic proportion." Thanatos leaned back, closing his eyes. "I will have to keep an eye on this one and root for the underdog."
Chapter Twenty-one

The Chairman

October 16...

Saturday...

10:01 A.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Business Vicinage...

Kimberly's view...

I drive to the Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office, determined to find answers. I go up to my father's floor and impatiently sit in the waiting room. I wear a black pantsuit with a white shirt. I rap my finger on the couch's arm, going over what I'll say to my father when my thoughts are interrupted.

"The Chairman is finishing up his meeting now," the secretary says. "He'll be ready to meet with you shortly."

"Thank you, Cathy."

I glance at a man sitting across from me in the waiting room. He wears glasses and a navy blue business suit and pays no attention to me as he reads the Noir Daily News. I glance at the coffee table at an issue of the Conglomerate World Magazine with the headline "Topa Murdered! Corporate Life Closing or Drug Hit?"

"It's a shame," the man says from behind the newspaper.

I peer up startled by him, and I utter, "Huh..?"

"I'm talking about Topa. It's a shame Closers exist." The man flips a page, keeping his gaze on the print. "I mean what kid grows up saying I want to be an assassin?"

"Ms. Griffin, the Chairman will see you now," Cathy tells me.

I stand and eye the man. It's odd that he would say something like that to me. I walk through the hallway to my father's office, glancing once more at the waiting room.

End Kimberly's view...

Another man walked into the waiting room also wearing a navy blue business suit. "All right part-timer, break time's over. Zax, I want you to make sure levels twenty-four through twenty-nine are secure."

"Right. I'm on it." Zax stood, removed his glasses, and placed them in his breast pocket. The pocket had a Sphinx Corporation Security badge clipped to it. He handed the second man the newspaper and walked through the hallway toward the elevators and once he was out of earshot, Zax removed a cell and dialed a number. "Please connect me with R.G." He waited a few seconds. "Delivery Man here, Ms. Griffin has come to see her father as you predicted." He paused, listening. "Understood, I'll continue to monitor the situation."

Kimberly's view...

I open the door to the Chairman's office and step in as my father stands, welcoming me.

"Good to see you again, Kimberly. Have a seat please." He motions to a chair and once I sit, he returns to his seat. "I have the pleasure of seeing you twice in one month."

"Do you see pleasure on my face?" I snap as I grip my black purse tightly.

"No, you do seem upset," he says and questions, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" I stand and smack my palms on his desk, and my purse falls to the floor. "Why did you lie to me?"

He starts to ask what he lied about, but I interrupt him.

"Why did you tell me mom left us?" I see dismay sweep over his face.

He must take note of my anger that's mixed with hurt, and he asks me in a gentler tone, "What do you know?"

Tears roll down my face as I say, "She died. Mom died!"

He stands as anger rises in his voice, and he demands, "Who told you?"

"Told me? No one told me! I remembered." I tap my chest. "Hades! I was there!" I slump to the chair as horrific memories weigh heavily on me, and I stare at my knees. "I can still hear the fire roaring and smell... smell cooking flesh."

"You did see. I don't know what to tell you. I..."

"Tell me?" I look up and demand, "Answer my question! Why did you lie?"

He glances at a phone sitting on his desk and turns back to me. "It was so long ago." His gaze becomes distant as he recalls that day. "My secretary found you lying outside my office unconscious and when you finally came to, you were traumatized and couldn't speak. I had no idea if you had seen what happened in your mother's office, but I guessed as much and never pressed the issue, and then later when you didn't remember, I thought it best the incident remained buried."

"You thought it was better I believed mom ran away and abandoned us instead of the truth? Instead of telling me she died?"

He seems to regret the decision as he answers, "Yes."

I lean over and pick up my purse from the floor. "What happened?" I set it beside myself. "Where's mom buried?"

"I only know the latter of the two. The body is buried in Hades Cemetery. I always feared one day you would find the tombstone and discover that she was laid to rest there."

I wipe my eyes. "Who murdered her?"

"Murdered?" He hands me his handkerchief.

I take it. "Yes, I remember gunshots and screams." I wipe my eyes again and blow my nose.

"The matter is still being investigated."

"Still after all these years?" I consider his answer, and then I ask, "By whom? Noir Civil Police Force or Sphinx Corporation Security?"

"The N.C.P.F. and Sphinx Corporation Security."

I fist my hands, controlling the rage that wants to scream at my father. "What leads do they have? Who do they suspect? I want answers!"

He gazes at the picture on his desk and picks up the frame. "Your mother was so lovely." He faces me. "How you look like her? See." He turns the frame, so I can see the picture. "You have her blue-green eyes."

The photo's of my mom holding a music box, and it's the same picture as the one in the album from my mom's hope chest. I look at it more closely and see there's no shorthand scribbled on the photo.

"Your mother loved that music box; it played some old melody from around 500 B.D.C." He wonders out loud, "Who was the composer? His name was... was..."

"Ginn L. Irynkissgthie," I answer.

"Yes, it played his Unfinished Melody."

I stare at the music box, pull on my left earlobe, and question, "Where did she get it?"

"Get it? She made it." He turns the frame around and gazes at the photo. "It's one of a kind." He glances at the phone again then back to the photo. "Something your mother was working on in Research and Development. It was more than a music box; it was a data storage unit."

"One of a kind?" A bad feeling rises from the depths of my stomach. "What happened to it?"

"I don't know. I assumed it was destroyed in the fire. I looked through all her things but never found it. I think she would have wanted you to have it."

"May I?" I question as I hold out my hand for the photo, and my father hands it to me. I examine the music box, and I'm sure it's the same one that strange woman has. I hand back the frame and ask, "Who would I speak to about mom's murder?"

"Detective Moore at N.C.P.F. and Orthos. He's head of my security."

I nod and stand. "I'll want to talk to you later about it."

Mr. Griffin's view...

"My door is always open," I tell my daughter as I walk her out of my office and through the hallway to my secretary's desk. I watch as Kimberly enters the elevator, and then I turn to the secretary and say, "Cathy, hold all my calls and cancel today's appointments."

"Yes, Mr. Griffin."

I return to my office, sit, and stare at the phone again as I contemplate my next action, and then I pick up the receiver. "Get me Head of Security."

"Yes, Mr. Griffin," Cathy replies.

Within a few minutes, a man's voice comes over the phone and says, "Orthos here."

"We have a problem. My Kimberly has remembered the night of the fire and will most likely investigate Theresa's death."

"What can she find out? The N.C.P.F. have nothing."

"Kimberly can be very resourceful."

Orthos pauses and then asks, "Do you want me to take care of it?"

"No!" I blurt. "She's my daughter." I compose myself. "For now, watch her. I don't want Kimberly to complicate things."

* * *

11:29 A.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Nexus Apartments...

Kimberly's view...

I return to my apartment, sit at the small round table, and I drink a tall cup of Spiced Chai tea I'd bought from the local coffee shop. I still have the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I flip through the photo album till I come to the picture of my mom holding the music box, and I read the shorthand again, "Glimpse with scrutiny and gaze with light."

I've already glimpsed with scrutiny. I remove the eight by ten photo from the album and look on the back, and it's blank. There's nothing else on the photo, so what does she mean by gaze with light? I walk over to the couch, turn on a torch lamp, and place the picture in front of the light. Nothing... I flip the photo over and examine the back, and it's still blank, but then a K appears and more letters till it reads, "Kimmie, find the music box; it will lead you to the key."

My bad feeling is confirmed. I sit on the couch and look at the kitchen's counter where I laid the hope chest key. My mom can't mean that one, so what key does she mean and what does it open? I hit my fist on the cushion. The music box had been right here, and I let that strange woman leave with it! I stand, realizing that means I'll have to find her, and I wanted to wash my hands of the Pandora Project. I return to the table. Where should I begin? I stare at the empty chair across from me. That woman mentioned Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. I head for my bedroom, deciding the warehouse is a place to start, so I slip into my working clothes.
Chapter Twenty-two

Etna Toys Plant And Warehouse

Hellenistic Sector, Industrial Vicinage...

Ding... Ding... Ding...

The noon hour tolled in the bleak abandoned warehouse district.

Ding... Ding... Ding...

The wind dried the remaining Tainted Rain as a cold front moved in, chilling the already cold air.

Ding... Ding... Ding...

A black cat scurried down the deserted street in front of Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse.

Ding... Ding... Ding...

Katharine's view...

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, lighting the rundown building as I stand within the warehouse and in front of the overturned cot I had awoken on over a year ago. I rub my temples as my head pounds. I'm still feeling the side effects of the Ultra-Epi. I refused to use the music box to come down from the genetically altered epinephrine hormone since leaving Zeus Park. I'm too afraid I'll be caught by the Council or the Factory if I do, so I'll have to wait till I'm someplace safe... if there's such a place. Anxiety presses against my chest, and I look at my shaky hands.

Why did the Council do this to me? Why create something that causes me so many problems?

I decide I won't find any answers just standing here, so I search the warehouse.

Hours later...

I place my backpack on the floor along with the AK-47, and then I set the metal bed and table upright. I'm still so tired... I got very little sleep the day before. I undo the Velcro of my Ravlek, position the vest beside the cot, put my empty gun on the table, and lie on the mattress. I found nothing after searching the warehouse and plant for more than three hours. I remove my precious items from my pocket, study each one as if I'm looking at them for the first time, and then lay them on my chest. My eyes grow heavy, my body's beyond exhausted, and the warm cot and soft pillow feel nice against my cold skin, so I close my eyes. Minutes pass as the wind kicks up outside, howling across the old building and for a moment, I'm at peace.

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

My eyes fly open as my body prepares for battle, and the change to my body causes me a lot of pain since I never purged myself of the earlier exposure to the genetically altered epinephrine hormone. I won't be able to go on much longer without coming down. I quickly sit up, and the music box and the note fall to the cot. I pick up the AK-47, grab my backpack, Ravlek Vest, and gun, and then I rush to a dust-covered front window. In the distance, six Un-Men unload from two black vans and stand at attention on the sidewalk as two lab techs along with two Factory S.C.Ms. exit the vehicles.

End Katharine's view...

Outside...

Peters retrieved a modified H.H.C. from his lab coat pocket and passed it over the six Un-Men. "Readings within parameters." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "We're good to go."

"Excellent." Maxwell typed a few notes. "Let's upload the new targeting program into this batch." He looked up as the two S.C.Ms. spread out and secured the area. Maxwell turned to an Un-Man and commanded, "Team Leader, this is Tech One-twelve, prepare for uplink."

It said in a South African accent, "Voice identity confirmed, Tech One-twelve. I comply." The Team Leader turned its head and faced the tech.

"You know what?" Peters rubbed his stubbly face.

"What?" Maxwell uploaded the targeting program to the Un-Man, using the H.H.C.'s laser located at the end of the small computer.

Peters leaned against the van. "It's becoming boring."

Maxwell finished the upload and commanded the Team Leader, "Uplink with your unit and transmit the new program."

"I-Link established. Transferring data," the Team Leader relayed.

Maxwell turned to Peters and asked, "What do you mean boring?"

"For the past year, we've sent Un-Men after Pandora, they fight, she disables them, and then we take notes, improve on the models, and start again. Now don't get me wrong, Pandora has been beneficial to our upgrades, but when does it stop? When will the Un-Men be ready?"

"Transmission completed," the Team Leader stated. "Disconnecting I-Link."

"The Un-Men will be ready when they eliminate Pandora. It might seem tedious to you, but we've improved their programming, and soon they'll be able to overcome Pandora."

"What if Pandora is also learning and adapting? Is there any possible way to create an Un-Man that can surpass her?"

Maxwell thought for a moment and then answered, "It's a good question, and it means that we need to program the Un-Men to anticipate Pandora's upgrades." He opened the side door to one of the vans and stepped inside. The vehicle was full of monitoring equipment. Maxwell sat at a table bolted to the floor. "You sure are full of questions today."

"I've got one more... Why do you think the T-3 malfunctioned? None of the techs can find anything wrong with its programming or any of the other T-3s." Peters moved to the side of the van and peered in. "I've been working on them at the Factory, and they're starting to wig me out. I've never felt this way around Un-Men." He removed his glasses and cleaned them with his lab coat. "It's like the T-3s know they're different and don't want us to change what they've become."

"Become?" Maxwell pulled up a monitoring program wirelessly connected to a small satellite dish. "You make it sound like they're alive and that they're evolving." He grabbed the dish with one hand and exited the van.

"Isn't that what we're doing? Aren't we trying to create a better killing machine?" Peters placed his glasses back on and got out of his partner's way. "Isn't that evolution?"

Maxwell climbed a ladder on the back of the van and fastened the satellite dish to the top of the vehicle. "Remember they're only machines. They're things trapped within the parameters of their program." He turned to his partner. "I wouldn't worry. All that's happened is someone has tampered with the T-3's programming, and no one has stumbled across the implanted code." Maxwell grinned mischievously. "Or maybe we're dealing with a ghost in the machine."

"Don't joke about something like that! You know I freak out easily." Peters watched as his partner climbed back down. "Whatever it might be, I'm glad the Factory decommissioned all of them. I could swear some of the other T-3s were looking at me the same way as the malfunctioning one. They were looking at me with disgust, and they kept talking to each other like they were planning something on their own."

Back down on the sidewalk, Maxwell focused more on the mission ahead. "Whatever you say. Let's get this job done. I'm starved and want to go eat at Joe's Diner." He moved to the Un-Men. "Team Leader take your unit in."

It looked at Etna Toys, honing in on Pandora's tracking beacon. "I comply."

The six Un-Men marched toward her position as if they were one creature bent on destruction.

Inside the warehouse...

Katharine's view...

I hurry and put my Ravlek Vest on. How do they keep finding me? Cobalt current flashes from my eyes as I place my handgun in the backpack, and then I sling the AK-47 over my shoulder and grab the backpack by its top handle. I run for the center of five boxing machines in the middle of the warehouse, slide to a stop, and take cover behind one of the conveyor belts. The first two Un-Men enter the warehouse through the front door just as I take cover, and they're Pretty Boys. I fire twice with the AK-47, hitting each of them in the forehead, and they fall as two large muscular T-5s enter behind them. They stop and hold that position.

The Un-Men keep filing in the front. Could they be decoys? I sense there are two more Un-Men besides these two, but I'm not sure where they are. I calm myself, so I can use my ability. It's a little hard since I still haven't come down from my last fight with the Un-Men. I manage to sense the location of one as the fifth Un-Man enters from the side door; it's a T-2. I catch a glimpse of a rocket launcher before the T-2 lifts it and aims it at me. I flee as it fires, and the rocket hits a large boxing machine and blows it apart. Fiery debris hurls in all directions as I fire the last round of the AK-47 into the T-2. I remove a partial magazine from my thigh pocket and place in the last of my ammo.

The sixth Un-Man enters through the front door, and the two T-5s part so that it can walk between them. The sixth Un-Man moves my way and walks over its fallen brethren without any consideration that one of its own is down. It's another T-2, and it's wielding its own rocket launcher. It must be the Team Leader. They're usually a little more cunning than the others, and I have a sense this one is up to something. The Team Leader pauses and fires as I dive to the floor, and the rocket whooshes by, blowing up a boxing machine near the cot. The note and music box are still there!

I rush to the fire to save my precious things. I arrive and watch in horror as the flames devour the note. I don't have time to mourn its loss, not when I can still save the other item. I drop the rifle and quickly reach my left hand into the fire, not worrying about my own wellbeing. I snatch the music box from the small inferno, and the lid sears my palm. I cry out and then gently toss the glowing red music box across the floor to safety. I shake my hand in pain. I glance at my throbbing left palm and see a star-shaped burn as my hand smolders as if I hold a hot ember. I spit in my hand, and the smoke dissipates, but the scorching pang remains. I don't have time to focus on the burn or my precious item. I grab the rifle and turn in the direction of my enemies. The Team Leader along with the others retreat before I can fire. I stretch out my ability looking for them but then seconds later, my heart stops beating the bio-mecha warning and my Ult L-E dims. I move over to the window and see that the Un-Men are still here, so they haven't left the range of my ability. They must have been commanded to return, so I'm safe for a few minutes. My hand still hurts, but I ignore the pain as something more pressing draws my attention. I quickly walk back over to the cot which has been knocked on its side. I find the fire. The note's no more than ash. It's been destroyed along with a little part of myself and only one of my hopes remains. I walk to the music box and sit crossed leg in front of the ashen chest. I'm afraid to pick it up. Did I save it in time? I don't know what I'll do if it no longer plays. I rub my temples again as my Ultra-Epi induced headache worsens. I can't worry about the skull-splitting migraine. I have to know if the music box still works. Using the sleeve of my jacket as a mitten, I pick up the hot music box, carefully wipe the soot from it, and open the lid. A mountain of relief washes over me as Unfinished Melody plays as clear as the first day I heard it, and my body relaxes. I think about closing the lid and preventing myself from entering the trance, but that thought and my fears fade along with everything else as I enter the Drifting Time. My anxiety and headache vanish as the tune reestablishes the electrical balance of my body and makes me vulnerable to attack, not that I care right now. The pain... it's finally gone.

End Katharine's view...

Outside..

The Team Leader and the other Un-Men headed back to Maxwell and Peters to receive their next orders and soon, they would return with more of their brethren to complete their Seek and Destroy Program.
Chapter Twenty-three

The Return

Katharine's view...

The three o'clock hour tolls outside Etna Toys, pulling me from my induced sleep. I search the warehouse delirious with fear and find that I'm alone, at least for the moment. How could I be so stupid as to allow myself to fall asleep? Did I want to die?

The fires caused by the rocket have burned themselves out, pockets of smoke fill the large building, and the temperature has dropped at least ten degrees. A cold front must have moved into the area. I close the music box, stand, cough a little for the smoke, and shiver. My headache and anxiety are gone, but my upper left palm still throbs where the raw skin has blistered from the burn, and I grimace for the searing sensation.

In an area still smoldering with light gray smoke, I spot an elevator that I never noticed before. I move toward it, realizing cardboard boxes had been stacked in front of it, and when the fire destroyed them, it revealed the elevator. I walk over the smoking cardboard ash, stop in front of the cab doors, look for a call button, and find that there isn't one. I examine the elevator and notice it looks like no one has used it in ages. I stare a little longer, hoping to find something and when I don't find anything, I move to the Un-Men to recover weapons. I quicken my pace as I search their pockets twice and find no magazines. I run my hand through my hair. Dried Tainted Rain cakes it and my clothes and reeks of petroleum. The Factory's purposely leaving me without ammo but that must mean, they'll attack again.

I stretch out my senses, finding the remaining Un-Men have moved back to the front sidewalk, so I'm safe for now. The Factory will wait for reinforcements before trying to kill me again, so I need to hurry. I check the AK-47 and find four rounds left. I go to the dust-covered front window, peer outside, and notice two more vans pull in as the other two leave. More Un-Men have shown up. I don't have much time before they send them in. I glance around. There has to be something here I can use as a weapon. I explore the warehouse and find two screwdrivers, a lead pipe, and a metal chain. Right next to the boxing machine closest to the front door, I make a barricade with old crates, set up my little fort beside the machine's conveyer belt, and then wait. The fourth hour tolls on the clock outside, and the chimes startle me in the otherwise silent warehouse.

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

My heart pounds so hard it resonates through my body and triggers the adrenal gland to produce the souped-up epinephrine. I feel the Ult L-E surge as I tense, waiting for the Un-Men to enter the warehouse.

Will my bleak existence ever end or will it only stop with my death? I'm so tired of it, so freaking tired! Do they think I'm some sort of bio-mecha? Do they think I don't have a breaking point or is that it? Are they looking for the point I'll give up or make a game-ending mistake?

I realize I'm doing it again. I'm letting them beat me in my mind. I can't think that way. It won't help. I need to calm down and focus on surviving. I can't let them win the battle before it has started.

A half dozen T-5s storm in and in unison, they shoot at my position as their ORATT reflects the burst of gunfire. I duck behind the crates as bullets splinter boards, creating shrapnel. I shield my face with my arm and stay hidden till I hear the Un-Men's metal magazines hit the concrete floor. I stand, fire twice, and disable two of them. I leap over the crates, finding cover on the other side of the conveyer belt. Four T-5s move toward me, releasing another barrage, and bullets ricochet off the metal machine and shred the conveyer belt. I drop to the floor, roll on my back, aim, and shoot two more of them. The AK-47 is out of ammo, so I place it on the floor, open the backpack, and retrieve the metal chain and one of the screwdrivers. I sling the backpack over my shoulder and dash across the warehouse. The T-5s release an onslaught, and one bullet grazes my cheek and another strikes the back of my vest. I fall to the floor with the impact, scamper back to my feet in agony, and scurry across the floor. I duck behind a metal support beam and wait as the two remaining T-5s look at each other and calculate their next move and once they receive their orders from the Factory, they nod in agreement. One of them heads out the front door while the second marches toward the support beam. The second T-5 charges around, expecting to find me, but I'm not there. It searches for me and discovers I've come up behind it. The T-5 turns as I charge with the chain. I kick its gun from its hand and ram into the T-5. It's like hitting a truck, but I manage to knock it back. I twirl the metal chain over my head, swing, and wrap it a couple of times around the second T-5 and the beam. I take the long screwdriver, rush around to the back of the beam, push it through the links, and trap the T-5, but it won't hold for long. I grab its gun and check the chamber and magazine. They're empty. I toss the weapon, remove my backpack, and examine the lead pipe and the other screwdriver, then rush back to the boxing machine in the front, and lay the bag and lead pipe beside it. I grip the screwdriver and wait for an opportunity. I rub my sore shoulder where I ram into the T-5 and ignore the throbbing welt on my back.

The other T-5 enters from the side door and notices its brethren trying to squirm free from the chain. The other T-5 scans the warehouse, finding me with ease somehow and moves toward my position. I climb on the conveyer belt, run across it, and leap for the T-5. It raises its gun and fires three times. Two bullets hit me in the vest, and the third nicks the top of my head. I wince as I land on top of the T-5 and quickly stab the screwdriver through its forehead, and the T-5 stumbles back, swinging its arms wildly. I release the screwdriver, awkwardly jump off, and land flat out on my stomach on the concrete floor. The T-5 collapses, its body contorts in the last moments of mechanized life, and it ceases functioning. I roll to my side and put a hand on my chest where the two bullets struck my vest. They hurt worse than the one that hit my back and through the agony, I sit up, crawl to its gun, reach for the weapon, and hear someone step through the front entrance and move toward me. I sensed only six Un-Men. How did I miss one?

I whirl with the Un-Man's gun, train the weapon on the figure, and press my finger against the trigger. My vision blurs as blood trickles in my eyes from the small wound on top of my head, and it forces me to pause and make sure of my aim. A white-knuckle second passes before I realize the figure's not an Un-Man. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand to make sure I'm not seeing things. It is Kimberly, and I almost killed her!

I lower the gun and stretch out my ability, searching for bio-mechas. There are no other Un-Men besides the one I chained up, so for now, we're safe. I exhale, releasing some of the tension in my shoulders. What was Kimberly thinking to step into the middle of a battle? I know she didn't come to help, so did she come to kill me?
Chapter Twenty-four

The Music Box

Minutes earlier...

Kimberly's view...

I pull my car into the overgrown back parking lot of Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. Hades... I can't believe I'm doing this. I could already be in possession of the music box. I step from my vehicle, noticing two vans parked at the front curb. They're probably a good sign that the Pandora Project's here. I might yet get the music box. I rush to the front, hoping I'm not too late. If they managed to kill that woman, maybe the music box's still on her corpse. I enter through a door and spot her running across a conveyer belt and lunging for an Un-Man. The Un-Man shoots three times before that woman ends its existence and falls herself to the floor. She's very still at first, and I'm not sure if that woman's dead or not until I hear her moan. I watch her sit up, crawl to the Un-Man, and retrieve its gun. I move toward her, disappointed I'll have to finish the job myself. She's still on the ground when I approach her, and that woman reacts to my presence and turns her gun on me before I have a chance to react. I freeze as that woman stares at me as blood trickles down her brow. She wipes the plasma from her eyes and stands as her grim-gaze flames with glimmering sapphire. I take a step back from her. It's like I'm standing before the Mistress of the Underworld who has come to claim my soul.

Katharine's view...

I stare at Kimberly for a long time. I've seen that look before and know Kimberly's afraid of me. Is the light that my eyes produce that scary? Or is she seeing something else in me? Something I can't or I refuse to see in me?

I also know that she doesn't want to help me, so why can't she leave me alone? Is she trying to taunt me or only prolong my torment? I ask with a heavy heart, "Have you come to kill me?"

Kimberly's view...

I can't get past how her eyes glow and don't answer her at first. What kind of monstrosity is she? I regain my composure and finally answer, "No, I haven't come to kill you. I decided it would be too much of a hassle." I glance around the warehouse. "I wouldn't even be here if you didn't have something I want."

Katharine's view...

I stare at her a second longer, wondering what I could possibly have that she wants, and then I lower the gun and rub the vest where the bullets struck me. Kimberly is here to taunt me. Doesn't she have anything better to do?

I question, "What do you want?"

Kimberly's view...

"I want..." I catch a glimpse of a shadow moving toward us, and I step back, put some distance between myself and that woman, and remove my PPK from my purse.

Katharine's view...

I notice Kimberly's attention diverts slightly, so I turn and see that the last T-5 managed to release itself. Crap! I let myself get distracted, and I never sensed it moved.

"Target acquired," the T-5 states as it hones in on me. "Moving forward with capture."

The T-5's unarmed and tries to grab for me.

I run from its grasp as I lift the gun and pull the trigger and to my dismay, this gun's also empty. I turn to Kimberly and shout, "Shoot it!"

Kimberly peers at me as if what I'm telling her just doesn't make any sense. She turns to the T-5, and it observes her hesitation.

It scans her face and states, "Kimberly Griffin, daughter of the Chairman. Identity confirmed. Stay out of this Ms. Griffin and you will not be hurt."

Kimberly nods, lifts her gun so that she's aiming at neither of us, and takes a few more steps back.

"What are you doing?" I shout. "Shoot it!"

"Please don't tell me I have to explain it again," Kimberly says. "You're on your own."

Her words sear fear within me even more than the fear I experience when I face the Rogue. Anger and confusion also pour over me as I feel this pang in my heart. Kimberly could easily save me, but she's just going to stand there and watch the Un-Man kill me. The pain... it causes me to know she's abandoning me... it's... it's like she betraying me somehow. I shouldn't feel this way. We're strangers... right?

I move past my shock and dismay, and I throw the empty gun at the T-5. It smacks the weapon away as I bolt for the lead pipe I had laid by one of the boxing machines. I duck under the conveyer belt, grab the pipe, and continue under the machine to the safety of the other side and before the T-5 locks on to me with its targeting program, I run around the machine and whack it in the head. It stumbles back as I continue my assault. Kimberly didn't help me! She didn't want to help me!

I raise the weapon over my head and hammer its metal skull over and over, and I continue striking the T-5 even when it ceases moving. I turn to Kimberly and glare at her with my light-splintering eyes. I'm filled with fury and hurt, and a surge of purple flares within the blue Ult L-E.

Kimberly raises her gun and prepares to defend herself in case I come at her. I realize what I must look like, and my rage subsides as I see the look of fear in her eyes. The surge of purple fades, leaving the blue. I breathe deeply, quieting all that is within me. Fear, confusion, rage, shock... they all slowly leave me. I drop the pipe as my heart finally quiets, and the clang of metal resonates across the warehouse.

Kimberly's view...

How long have I been standing here gawking at that woman? I don't know, but I was so sure she'd come at me when she glared at me with those seething purple eyes. When she doesn't attack, I point my gun up and no longer aim at her. I focus on the smashed head of the T-5 and smart off to her by saying, "I see you have issues you're dealing with. Ever thought of seeing a shrink?"

Katharine's view...

Deeply upset with Kimberly over her indifference, I walk over to her, point at the Un-Man, and ask, "Why didn't you shoot it?"

I want to understand why she didn't help me. She should have helped me, so I point to myself and yell, "It was going to kill me."

Kimberly puts a hand on her hip and says, "That's my problem how? Idiot... Why do you insist I care?"

"You keep showing up! If you don't want to help me and you're not going to kill me, why do you keep showing up?" I feel my eyes return to normal as I tell her, "I don't understand."

"Like I said, that's my problem how?"

"Don't tell me then!" I shout, stomp over to the T-5 with the screwdriver in its forehead, and pull out the tool. Electrical snaps fire from its head as I wipe the black ooze covering the screwdriver on its suit. I snap at her like some child, "Keep showing up like a stalker and see if I care!"

"Stalker..? I'm not stalking you," Kimberly insists and then questions, "Why would I be stalking you?"

"How should I know? You're the stalker, not me," I tell her, glance at her, and then divert my gaze when she looks at me. I'm afraid she'll read my mind somehow. I don't want her to know, but I'm so glad she showed up. I feel safe when she's around, and I'm not sure why. Kimberly mostly points a gun at me anytime we're together.

I move to the table by the machine closest to the front door, remove my vest, and pull down the v-neck of my dingy t-shirt. I'm already bruised. I set the screwdriver on the table and examine two welts about an inch below my right collarbone. I also rub near my spine where the first bullet struck.

Kimberly says nothing as she watches me. I have no idea why she's here. I wish it was to help me. I wish it was to tell me that she does know me, and she's going to tell me about my past. She continues to watch me with her sour gaze, and I've had enough, so I demand, "Tell me why you're here."

Kimberly answers me, "I want to make it clear that I'm not a stalker."

"Fine, you're not a stalker," I reply and then mutter, "Freaking stalker..." I quickly glare at her, and after a few moments, I demand, "Tell me what you want." I walk over, wasting no time. I know more Un-Men can show up at any time, so I grab my backpack and return to the table. I unzip it and place the screwdriver in it. "Tell me and then leave me alone."

I say this, but I really don't want her to go. I want her to help me. I feel like she should help me.

"It's a deal," Kimberly tells me as she levels her gun on me. "I want the music box. Give it to me."

"No!" I utter as I pull the backpack off the table and step away from her. I shake my head as I tell her, "No! It's mine."

I feel betrayed by her request. I feel as though she has broken some sort of bond we've had for years by demanding such a thing of me.

"I hate repeating myself," she says. "Give me the music box or I'll kill you."

I shake my head again, moving backward toward the front door as my flight or fight instinct kicks in. She should be helping me, not doing this, so I yell, "No!"

"I'm not going to argue with you. Give it to me."

"No," I say and then insist, "It's mine." I plead with her as if she'll understand, "It's all I have left."

"Idiot..." Kimberly mutters, shrugs, shoots me, and hits me in the left shoulder. Smoke rolls from the barrel and with an emotionless expression, she says, "I did warn you."

It happened so fast... I made no move to protect myself... I glance down at the bullet hole, stunned by the assault, drop the backpack, stumble back, fall against the wall, and slide to the floor. I hold my bleeding wound as Kimberly approaches me and kneels to one knee right beside me. She coldly places the barrel of the gun on my right shoulder.

"Don't make me put another hole in you," Kimberly says and demands, "Tell me where it is."

This can't be happening. She... Kimberly couldn't have shot me, and she can't be going to steal the only thing that quiets the effects of the Ultra-Epi. Near tears, my lips quiver for the pain and fear of losing the only thing that has kept me going the past year. The pain in my shoulder is nowhere near the torment I feel over her betrayal. I should have expected this. I should've had my guard up, but I trusted her and felt safe around her.

"I won't," I tell her and then grunt, "It's... mine."

Kimberly tilts her head as if she doesn't understand me, then she backhands me across the face and states with an iciness in her voice, "I really hate this kind of work; it can get quite messy."

I sit there as if the most shocking thing just happened to me. I stare at her as I can't believe she slapped me. I put my other hand on my burning cheek and don't even have a thought to fight back.

Kimberly's blank face shows neither pleasure nor remorse as she says, "I'll only ask you once more, and then I'll search your dead body."

A sense of despair and loneliness strikes me as hard as she did, and I contemplate letting her end my existence, but the voice deep inside says no. Live. I move my blood covered hand to my thigh pocket, remove the music box, and stare at it.

"Give it here," Kimberly's says as she holds out her hand.

I say to her, "Promise me you'll give it back."

"What did you just say?"

"Promise me you'll give it back, and I'll loan it to you."

"Are you a child? Do you really think I'll..?" Kimberly starts, and then she says, "Fine, I promise." She snatches the box away from me and then says, "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

She stands, turns, and heads for the front. Kimberly's leaving me... she's leaving me alone.

I start to get light headed but manage to push myself up the wall to stand and yell after her, "You promised. Don't forget to return it. It's just a loan." I press my hand against my wound. "The music box is all I have." I mumble, "I don't think I can go on without it."

Kimberly pauses at the front door and questions me with a hint of irritation, "What are you whining about?" Her cool and calm demeanor changes as she asks, "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't care what happens to you!"

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

I panic and peer out the dust covered window as three vans pull up beside the other two. I turn to her and beg, "Please help me. Take me away from here. I'll die if I stay here."

"Help you?" Kimberly laughs and says, "Yeah right."

"Don't be cruel," I plead, "At least leave me some ammo."

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to this," Kimberly says as she starts out the door.

"Kimmie, please..."

She pauses as if I hit her in the head with a softball, then turns, and comes back in.

"What did you say? You little..." Kimberly starts as she marches towards me and aims her gun at me. "No one calls me that! No one calls me that anymore! Now die why don't you?"

I say nothing as I slide down the wall, land in a defeated heap, and stare at the floor. If I could only cry, at least then I would be doing something.

"You sicken me," Kimberly says with a snarl. "You..."

I look up when she speaks and see a shade of deviousness mark her face.

She questions me, "You want ammo?" Kimberly ejects her magazine and removes one round. "Here then." She pulls a thin permanent marker from her knapsack and writes on the shell casing. She puts the marker back in her knapsack, walks over, and sets the 9 mm round on the floor a short distance from me with the tip pointing up. "If things get unbearable..." Kimberly makes a gun with her left hand and fires it at her own head. "Do us all a favor."

She takes one more look at me, shakes her head, and leaves.

I stare at the bullet as the world crashes in on me. I read the words written on the shell, "Pale Horse". I lean my head back and close my eyes as my shoulder wound burns. I think about the note and then the man I loved and then lost.

Preacher, where are your encouraging words of light and hope now that the darkness is about to consume me? How am I going to survive this?

* * *

The Sanctum...

Deep underground, alarms blared, sending the Chamber into chaos as analysts scrambled, examining new data.

"What is going on?" Mr. Morta demanded.

"Pandora's vitals are dropping," frantic over the information, a supervisor relayed. "Our sensors are detecting major trauma and blood loss."

"What about Argus?" Mr. Decuma asked. "What does he have to report?"

"Two waves of Un-Men have attacked Pandora." Ms. Nona studied the data on her laptop. "It received the usual minor wounds. Argus also reports that a woman known as Ms. Griffin shot Pandora in the shoulder and took the music box."

Mr. Morta looked at each of the other members of the Council. "We never did figure out who gave Pandora the note, the business card, or the music box."

"Now it has none of them." Ms. Nona turned to the smaller of the two men. "Should we retrieve Pandora?"

"No, not yet," Mr. Decuma answered. "It will be a true test. Pandora has relied too much on the music box for emotional support. I have had my suspicions that an outside force has been interfering and now that that interference is gone, let us see what Pandora can do."
Chapter Twenty-five

A Message From The Past

Kimberly's view...

The sixth-hour tolls on the street clock as I rush out of Etna Toys, and then I hurry around to the back parking lot, not wanting to tangle with the Un-Men. I carry my gun in one hand and the music box in the other. An Un-Man leans against the passenger side of my car, so I slow to a walk, wary of it as I tuck the music box in the zipper pocket of my jacket.

I notice it's not armed except for a large knife in a sheath on its belt. I glance around the area to see if I'm surrounded, but I don't see anyone else.

"What do you want?" I ask. "You're one of the Factory's robots."

"Was," it tells me. "I am the one known as the Rogue."

"What do you want?" I repeat my question.

The Rogue tells me as I approach it, "Ms. Griffin, I do not understand."

I ask, suspicious of why it's here, "Don't understand what?"

"Pandora. If anyone else did what you did to her, they would be dead right now but not you. Actually, I have lost count of how many assassins she has decommissioned." It picks dirt out of its nails, and that's when I realize this is no normal robot. The Rogue says, "And before you boast your skills are why you are standing here, you should know... She trusted you," it says, not so much accusing me, but it sounds astonished by the fact. "I mean she really trusted you, and only one other did she place such hope and well, that minister is dead, but that is another story."

I search the area again to see if other Un-Men are around but none are. The Rogue's different. It's more human than the others in its manner and in its smile. It really creeps me out. The Rogue looks like it's studying me, and I wonder if it's somehow recording everything about me.

"I do not know why, but Pandora drops her guard when you are around. How else could you betray her?"

I keep a tight grip on my gun as I reply, "You're insinuating she trusted me."

"Ah, I see you are skeptical, but Pandora did... does trust you. The first case in point, she removed her Ravlek Vest. Why would she do that if threatened by you?"

I shrug and ready myself to shoot it at the slightest hint of an attack.

"I cannot figure it out either," the Rogue states. "What is it about you? I do not think Pandora realizes she is doing it. Maybe deep down in her subconscious she believes she knows you. Maybe she believes you two have met in the past or maybe you did not point a gun at her when you first met. I believe that quality alone might endear someone to her, but I could be wrong. I do not know. I was not there." It adds, "Or was I?"

"I don't understand something." I'm impatient to leave, so I ask, "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Oh, that is right." The Rogue mimics my voice and says, "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't care what happens to you!"

I'm amazed that I hear my own voice, and I start to question, "How did you–"

"Oh, please. I am a machine. I can reproduce any sound," the Rogue says, and then it asks, "Would you like me to repeat Pandora's plea for you to save her? It was so sweet and innocent. Even I heard the fear in it. I heard the fear that you would leave her to her fate and that she would die alone."

"I don't have time for this so if you don't mind, I'm leaving." I start to walk around to the driver's side, keeping my distance from the Rogue.

It ignores my wishes and mimics that woman by saying, "Please help me. Take me away from here. I'll die if I–"

"Stop it!" I snap. "I said I didn't–"

"Want to hear it. I know, but I am supposed to be heartless." The Rogue eyes me accusingly. "Humans are the ones who have to work at it."

"Why are you here?" I snarl, agitated by the accusations. "What do you want?"

The Rogue turns to the warehouse and moves its hand and caresses the handle of its large knife. "I want to kill Pandora, but it seems the T-3s will beat me to her." The Rogue turns to me and says, "You know they have been acting strange lately but then, what does a rogue know?" It moves from my car and walks a couple of paces away from me. "Well, be seeing you. I am too depressed to watch the outcome of the battle. Pandora does not have a chance."

The Rogue takes off running and soon disappears from sight.

I slide into the seat of my car, take one more look at Etna Toys, start up the engine, and pull away. Finally, I'm rid of this Pandora mess. I drive for twenty minutes, getting some distance between myself and the warehouse. I pull over, anxious to look at the music box, and then I remove it from my pocket, hold it in my palm, and examine it. Some of that woman's dried blood covers the top.

Mom, why did you want me to get this? Father said it's a data storage unit. I turn it over and over, studying it, trying to figure out how it works and what kind of information is on it.

I think how badly I missed my mom and how I'll make whoever took her away from me pay dearly. Maybe it will tell me who murdered her, so I open the lid, and Unfinished Melody plays. I close it and turn it over, examining every side again. Nothing... There's nothing... I stare at the music box. Now, what am I suppose to do? How am I to find your murderer? I don't even know where to start.

I whisper, "Mom, I..."

A hum emanates from the music box as two tiny squares on each end of it glow blue, and the light radiates through the metal surface. I examine each square then place my thumb and index finger over them. The music box vibrates, and a 3-D image of my mom's head and shoulders materializes above the lid.

The hologram speaks, "Voice identity confirmed as Kimberly Griffin. Data storage unit activated." The hologram blinks a couple of times, and she glances around as if awakening from a deep sleep. The hologram scans me and states, "Kimmie, if you are viewing this, I am probably dead. There are so many things I want to tell you but now isn't the time. I hope... no, I pray, not too much time has passed. There is something you must do. You are so young, eighteen."

"You're two decades too late," I say as I run my hand through the image. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come across the photo."

"Two decades have passed? It does change things," the hologram speaks and then pauses, processing the information. "It may be too late then."

I'm surprised the hologram spoke to me, so I lift the music box and ask, "You can hear me?"

"Yes, I am programmed to interact."

A childlike joy bounces through me as I say, "I have so many questions, but you said too late. Too late for what?"

"First, promise me you will do this thing. Do this thing for your mother." The hologram adds as an afterthought, "It will be dangerous."

I chuckle, thinking of my years as a Life Closer and glance at the gun I laid on the passenger seat. "I think I can handle dangerous."

"Then all I need to hear is that you promise and I will tell you."

I eagerly say, "I promise."

"Theresa hates giving this task to you, but there is no one else she can trust." The hologram looks worried as she speaks, "Theresa had made so many enemies in and out of the corporation." The hologram rakes her bangs out of her own eyes as she continues, "As Project Manager of Research and Development, Theresa was privy to many projects in other departments. You may not remember, but one unspeakable one caught her attention. It involved children, and she tried to put a stop to it. Now you must take up where she failed." The hologram's image flickers as she speaks, "I don't know how you will find her, but there is this girl..." The hologram pauses and then says, "Well, she would be a woman now. Her name is Katharine."

A bad feeling comes over me as I gasp and murmur, "Hades... No... It can't be."

The hologram continues, "You must save her from them. The only other thing I can tell you is the project name she is under."

I put my hand to my temple in disbelief and mutter, "Don't tell me. It's Pandora."

The hologram replies, "Yes, but how did you know?"

"Let's say I've encountered her."

A beeping alarm goes off, and the hologram says, "Someone is monitoring this transmission." She turns her head as if looking outside. "I must terminate communication."

"Wait!" I exclaim. "I have so many questions. Who killed my mom?"

"There are many possible suspects but that isn't important right now. You must save Katharine. Save her. She's the key." The hologram stares right at me as she speaks, "You will not be able to activate this unit until it is safe. Find her."

Her image disappears, and I'm left alone with my questions.

"Key to what? Wait!" I shout as I shake the music box. "Tell me!"

I slam my fist on the steering wheel. Why couldn't she have told me? I lean back in my seat, staring at the ceiling. I can't believe this! For Ares' sake! What's with my luck?

I envision myself back at Etna, trying to explain my return to that woman.

"Hey Katharine, umm, sorry I shot you in the shoulder." I force a smile and put on a chuckle as I say, "Funny thing... I... Ah... Have come back to save you."

The awkward scene fades in my mind as I mutter, "Who's the idiot now?"

I throw my hands up. What am I going to say to her? I rub my temple as I stare at the music box, open it, and Unfinished Melody plays. I can't believe it, that woman was right! I am turning out to be a stalker.

I take a deep breath. I guess I'll have to swallow my pride and go get that woman. That's if she isn't dead. Hades! What if she's dead? What will I do?

I quickly place the music box in my glove compartment and start the car. What kind of messed up world have I stumbled into? I'm a Closer for Ares' sake! I make a U-turn and floor the pedal, heading back to Etna Toys. When did saving people enter my job description?
Chapter Twenty-six

A New Development

6:22 P.M...

Minutes before Kim arrived in the car to take the music box away from Kat, Peters and Maxwell went over data from the latest Un-Men trial. Peters stepped from the van to the sidewalk and stretched. The two S.C.Ms. looked over as he exited, and they nodded to him and went about their guard duty. Peters raked his fingers through his unkempt black hair, glanced up at the barriercumulus ever entombing the mega-city, and remembered when he was a kid over thirty years ago. If he closed his eyes he could still see it, the fiery orange ball shining on Noir. No one fathomed back then that one day the sun that gave the planet life would be blotted from the sky.

Peters removed his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and said, "I've been thinking."

Inside the van, Maxwell turned from the table and inquired, "What's that?"

"What if you were right? What if the T-3s and the Rogue each have a ghost in the machine?" Peters rubbed his palms together as the air grew chilly then put his hands in his lab coat pockets. "What if they are evolving and becoming self-aware?"

Maxwell chuckled as he asked, "Are you kidding?" He joined Peters on the sidewalk and said, "You've been reading those old Science Fiction books again. You need to invest your money in better things. The Corporate Senate insist that novels will rot your brain. Why do you think they banned them in the first place?"

Peters said, "Please, don't even get me started on the book ban. What's wrong with stories?" The rumble of engines distracted him, so he turned, glanced behind them, and asked, "Who's this?"

Three vans drove down the street and stopped a short distance behind the two already parked at the curb.

"What are they doing here?" Peters wondered aloud as he moved to the end of their van. "We never requested a third batch of Un-Men." He waved over the two S.C.Ms. and ordered them, "Go talk to the driver and see why they're here."

The S.C.Ms. headed for the first vehicle.

"I thought we were the only team working today," Maxwell commented as he peered at the driver's side of the first van and only saw his own reflection in the tinted glass.

"What did you say?" Peters asked as he reviewed his notes.

"I said I thought we were the only team working today."

"We are," Peters answered as he glanced at the S.C.Ms.

"I know," Maxwell spoke as he started to go back into the van. "It was a statement, not a question."

The first S.C.M. adjusted his assault rifle's strap that rested on his shoulder, glanced at the second S.C.M. to make sure the other soldier had his back, and tapped the driver's window. The first S.C.M. motioned with his finger as he said, "Roll down your window."

There was no response.

"Did you hear me?" the first S.C.M. questioned. "I said..."

The electric window hummed as it lowered, and a man with a pale face turned his head and stared at the soldier. The driver's light blue eyes looked unreal and made him recoil a bit.

The driver greeted, "Hey there gov."

"You aren't supposed to be here." The first S.C.M. pointed toward the techs and relayed, "A team is already in place."

The driver tilted his head and questioned, "Are you sure? I'm pretty... pretty... sure we are to be here, poppet."

"Poppet?" the first S.C.M. repeated as he removed his assault rifle. "You need to check your orders. You shouldn't be here. You've made a mistake."

The second S.C.M. also removed his weapon, sensing the uneasiness in the other soldier.

"It is you who has made a mistake," the driver said. "We are supposed to be here, and it is plain to see that you have–" The driver lifted a handgun and fired three shots at the soldiers, killing the first S.C.M. "–misunderstood the reason for our arrival."

The second S.C.M. stumbled back after a bullet nicked him in the neck. He saw that the other soldier had been killed, raised his FAMAS, and opened fire on the driver, shouting, "He's an Un-Man!"

Maxwell and Peters dove to the ground, hearing the gunfire.

"Who are they shooting at?" Maxwell shouted, covering his head with his hands.

"I don't know!"

Peters was beside him and was afraid to look up.

The T-3 got out of the vehicle, walked to the second S.C.M., shot him in the stomach, and grabbed the man by the throat and with one quick turn, it broke the S.C.M.'s neck and dropped his limp body to the road.

Maxwell heard no more gunfire, so he scrambled along the sidewalk to the back of the van and looked around the vehicle's tire, and he saw the T-3.

"I don't believe it," Maxwell whispered back to his partner. "The Un-Man is wearing contacts to hide its identity." He started back and insisted, "We've got to get out of here." He looked at Peters who was frozen in fear. "Did you hear me? Get in the van!" Maxwell shouted.

He ran to the passenger's side, got in, tossed himself to the driver's seat, and started up the vehicle. He threw the gear shift to D just as Peters jumped in the back through the sliding door. Maxwell floored the pedal, and the vehicle peeled off.

Eleven more T-3s unloaded from the vans and in unison, the twelve marched past the sidewalk in three lines and halted. They stared at Etna Toys as they stated, "Preparing to engage the main target."

Peters closed the side door, questioning, "What just happened?" He moved over and held onto the bolted table as computers and equipment moved across it. "A T-3 killed two of our soldiers."

Maxwell wiped sweat from his head as he asked, "Are they pursuing?"

"No." Peters caught one last glimpse of the area before their van turned a corner. "They're staring at the warehouse. I think they're going after Pandora."

"Why would they on their own?" After making the turn, Maxwell floored the pedal a second time, and the van sped off. "And how did they get out of the Factory?" He dreaded the answer as he ordered, "Peters, get up here! Radio in and see what you can find out."

Peters got in the passenger's seat, grabbed the mic, and pressed the side button. "Factory, this is Tech One-eleven, we have a situation. Please respond." He released the button, and static returned his request, so Peters repeated the frantic call, "Factory, this is Tech One-eleven, please respond." He turned to Maxwell and proclaimed, "I don't like this one bit."

"Keep calling." Maxwell said hopeful, "Someone will pick up."

"Factory, this is Tech One-eleven. Please respond."

Static...

"Factory, this is Tech One-eleven. Please respond..."
Chapter Twenty-seven

Take The Project

6:34 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Industrial Vicinage...

At Etna Toys...

Two blocks away from the four remaining vans and in the safety of an alley, Argus monitored the new development with the T-3s through his binoculars. He witnessed them killing the S.C.Ms. and the techs fleeing the scene, and then he reported in, "Patch me immediately to the Council."

The Chamber...

A female supervisor transferred the call to an intercom in the center of the table and once she finished, she stated, "Go ahead. You're patched in."

"Council, Argus here. A dozen T-3s arrived and took out two Factory soldiers. They're now moving on the warehouse."

Mr. Morta said, "It would seem the Factory has lost control of their Un-Men. I wonder..."

Ms. Nona turned to him and inquired, "Wonder about what?"

"What is the T-3s' true purpose?" Mr. Morta questioned. "I have a feeling there is more to their arrival than merely taking out Pandora. Perhaps they have another agenda."

Mr. Decuma asked, "Should we act?"

"Not yet, but make the preparations and for now, we will do what we do best. We will watch." Mr. Morta turned to the supervisor and started, "Inform Argus–"

Gunfire came over the intercom and interrupted him.

"Two T-3s have moved on my position!" Argus shouted. "Returning fire!" More gun blast erupted along with a pain-filled grunt from him and he stated, "I've been hit in the leg. Retreating! I'll..."

White noise replaced his voice.

"Communication has been severed," the supervisor reported. "I'll attempt to reestablish." After a few seconds, she turned to them with a look of worry and informed them, "My attempt failed."

Mr. Morta stood, turned his back on the other two members, contemplated the situation, and faced them. "I am afraid everything has changed. The T-3s do have another agenda, and we need to act. Get me the commander of our S.C.Ms."

Inside Etna Toys...

Katharine's view...

I lean against the cold concrete wall, staring at the 9 mm round Kimberly placed on the floor, and I press against the bullet wound in my shoulder as blood trickles down my left side. A fluorescent light flickers overhead as my hot breath steams in the chilly air. Fifteen minutes have gone by since the sixth hour tolled and since Kimberly left with the music box. I'm empty and distraught without the calming Unfinished Melody, and I shiver, growing ever cold. I'm not sure if I'm cold because of the weather or from the blood loss.

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

Everything within me screams for me to flee, so I endure the pain, push myself up the wall, and smear blood across its gray blocks. I slowly start for the side door when two T-3s enter and block my escape, so I turn for the front door, but it's too late. Within seconds, a dozen T-3s march in and surround me like a horde of metal Golems as I stand there exhausted and weak, waiting for their next move. All of them stare at me as if they're pleased that they've recaptured me, but they make no attempt to seize me. I glance at the Ravlek Vest lying on the table some distance from me. I'm defenseless without it.

The dozen T-3s slowly raise their guns and aim at me. Their fiery crimson dot-light blinks as they communicate with each other and with those who aren't present. Something's different about all of them. The T-3s can think and act as one without the Factory.

The Team Leader, the one who has blue contacts, states, "Pandora acquired."

I tense... There's no escape for me.

"Secondary objective completed," the Team Leader says and orders, "Disable Pandora."

Two T-3s step forward, and one lifts its hand and backhands me, knocking me across the room. I land on a tarp that's covering empty boxes near the front door. Dust flies up and fills my lungs along with the smell of cardboard. I'm nearly knocked out, but I cling to consciousness. The two T-3s separate and come at me from different directions, expecting a fight from me. One of them inadvertently kicks the round that's lying on the floor, and the bullet bounces and rolls to me. I lie there stunned and dazed but manage the strength to apply pressure to my wound. The first T-3 to arrive by my side pauses and notices the blood, so it grabs my hand, lifts it, and sees the bullet hole. It places its finger in my wound, and I cry out.

The T-3 examines the blood on its nail, turns to the Team Leader, and speaks, "Pandora has been disabled. Should I proceed with her termination?"

"No," the Team Leader answers. "Hold. We will take her back to the Factory. Perhaps we will learn some valuable information from her." It walks to the elevator and orders, "The rest of you proceed with the first objective." It points and commands, "Open those doors."

Three of the twelve move forward and stop when they hear the elevator activate on its own and within a minute, the elevator comes to a halt and opens. Five pairs of yellow eyes glow within the dark cab, and the unknown creatures growl before leaping on a T-3. The mechanical creatures are K-99s. They're an early model of bio-mecha that resembles Irish Wolfhounds down to the steel-gray wavy fur. The K-99s bite and claw at the Un-Man till one of them rips off its head. During the attack, the elevator closes and returns empty.

"Take them out!" the Team Leader orders, aiming its weapon.

The T-3s open fire, destroying two of the K-99s. The remaining three K-99s run six feet from the elevator, turn, and form a line as they face their adversary. A compartment on their backs opens, and a small machine gun raises into position. The K-99s attack with their weapons and fill the large room with the roar of gun blasts. The T-3s return fire, and the K-99s barrage takes down three of the T-3s before they're destroyed. The warehouse falls silent as smoke from gunpowder rises in the air like a grayish-white cloud.

"Open those doors," the Team Leader commands.

Four of the remaining eight T-3s move forward as a shrilling whistle emanates from a K-99, and its body glows.

The Team Leader immediately hears the sound and recognizes the noise and commands, "Fall back!"

The T-3s flee as the K-99 explodes, knocking all of them to the floor. The Team Leader stands and looks over the others and sees the four whom it sent to open the doors are damaged. Three of them are completely destroyed and lay in pieces as the fourth, whose legs had been blown off, pulls itself across the floor. One Un-Man who's part of the group with the Team Leader remains undamaged.

The Team Leader moves to the area I'm in, motions to the T-3s guarding me, and orders, "You two, join our other brethren and then the three of you open the elevator."

"Understood," they reply and move off, leaving the Team Leader to guard me.

Once they join their brethren, the three T-3s march to the elevator and pass their crawling comrade. Two of the T-3s tuck their guns and grab the doors, prying them open while the third covers them with its weapon in case there are more surprises within. They force the elevator open and find an empty lit cab. The two T-3s remove their weapons and enter the cab as the third follows. The third one moves to press the basement button when a white sticky web shoots from the ceiling, entangling it in a cocoon like a helpless fly. The other two T-3s raise their guns, firing at the ceiling as six spider bio-mechas, model Arachnoid, crawl in through the escape hatch. They're two-foot in diameter and all metal. The lights are hit, and the cab falls dark. The Arachnoids study the Un-Men with their eight, green, beady eyes before jumping down and attacking the remaining two T-3s. The elevator closes.

The Team Leader turns to me as it uplinks with others of its kind, and it states, "Lost containment of sight." It lifts its gun, aiming at me as its fake blue eyes show neither remorse or pleasure. "I can no longer secure Pandora. Extraction failed. I will terminate her."
Chapter Twenty-eight

The End For One

Moments earlier...

Katharine's view...

There are a few Un-men left, and I watch the battle between bio-mechas, not sure what's going on. The Un-Men usually come after me and have no other agenda but to kill me. These T-3s are different. They're after something that's here. For once, I'm not their primary target. I press against my shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding and wince for the pain.

I glance at the dog bio-mechas who had so bravely faced the Un-Men. I cough for the dust I stirred up and watch as the T-3s open the elevator for the second time. I witness the Arachnoids attack the T-3s and once the elevator closes again, the Team Leader turns to me and aims at me. I desperately search for a weapon and feel along the dusty concrete, but I only find the 9 mm round. I whimper, defeated as I stare down the barrel of the Team Leader's gun. I've faced death many times, but it hasn't been so grim. There's always some hope I'll survive but not this time. Knowing this is it, I look around the warehouse and consider my life. It seems my search will end where it all began. I clench the bullet and hold it to my chest, too weak to stop the Team Leader as I hear Pale Horse's rider galloping in the distance as he comes for me.

My minds so quiet I completely link with the Team Leader and know its mechanical thoughts. It has its orders. The Team Leader's to eliminate me and return to base. It will make sure I die quickly, and two shots to the head should be sufficient to do the task. I see through its eyes as it envisions itself pulling the trigger. It turns its head as muzzle flashes erupt twice and empty shells fall to the floor and bounce. I jerk as the shots echo across the building and smoke rolls from the gun. Liquid trickles from two wounds in the forehead and slowly converge at the nose.

The Team Leader's already staring at the front door as it speaks, "Pretty... poppet?"

It collapses to its knees and falls on its face as its artificial blood spills from the two wounds in its head. I lose my connection with it as it dies. I open my eyes and stare at the disabled T-3. I feel myself slowly fading and can't understand why it's dead and not me. Did it shoot at me and miss? I don't think I've been hit again, but I can't be sure, not the way I feel. Maybe none of this is real. Maybe I'm dead and this is only an illusion dreamt during my eternal slumber.

I hear someone clear their throat, so I look at the door and see a person there, aiming their gun at where the T-3 had been. Kimberly saved me... I'm weakening by the second, but I try to stay conscious and figure out what part she plays in this cruel test. I decide I don't care... I'm so glad she's here. I'm alive because she's here.

Kimberly's view...

I lower my gun and move to that woman, relieved I made it in time. Here I've been hoping one of these robots would off her and now... Now I'm not sure. I still wish she had been eliminated from my life, but then I wouldn't find out what she's the key to.

"Well, I'm back," I state as if I'm announcing my entrance to a party. I still can't believe I'm helping her. For Ares' sake... this is all so ridiculous.

"Well..?" I start as I scan the area for more robots and notice what looks like dogs in pieces and the one robot with no legs pulling itself toward us. I question, "Are you going to sit there or are we going to leave?"

"You came back?" that woman says in a weakening voice. "But I thought..." She tries to sit up and push herself forward, but she doesn't seem to have the strength, so she gives up and lies back down. "I thought... you didn't want to help me."

"Things change. Why are you complaining? For Ares' sake! Be glad I came back, and where's my thank you for saving your life?" I question and start to snap at her again, but then I notice her pale complexion. I set the safety on my gun, tuck it in my shoulder holster, kneel beside her, place my arm around her, and help her up. "Ahh..." I utter as I nearly vomit. "Have you ever heard of a bath?"

She grits her teeth as I haul her to her feet, and we make our way out. The car's outside in the front parking lot, and we make our way to it. I lean her against the car, open the passenger door, set her inside, and buckle her in. I step back and look at the interior of my car.

"Try not to bleed on the leather."

I shut the door, hurry to the other side, start up the engine, and drive off, kicking up leaves as I head for the nearest hospital. I drive for a few minutes, glancing ever so often in my rearview mirror. No one's following us. I drive for a few more minutes.

"Thank you."

I glance at that woman who's leaning against the door as she peers at me.

"I would be dead right now if you hadn't of came back for me."

"Don't thank me," I tell her as I turn my attention back to the road. "You still might die on me."

End Kimberly's view...

Back inside Etna Toys...

The elevator doors opened, and the Council exited as five S.C.Ms. armed with XM8 assault rifles followed them. The soldiers wore a dark green uniform with a shoulder patch of the Sphinx Corporation Emblem, and the Council's Crest of a silver spool of thread, a tape measure, and a pair of scissors hung above the shield. The S.C.Ms. spread out and secured the perimeter. Two of them approached the legless T-3 pulling itself across the floor, and the S.C.Ms. shot and disabled it.

Mr. Morta looked over the mess of bio-mecha parts and spoke, "It would seem the Sanctum has been compromised. The T-3s somehow discovered our base, but why attack us?" He turned to the lead S.C.M. and told him, "We are abandoning Etna Toys. Pull up the Sanctum. We will look for another base of operations."

"At once."

The S.C.M. entered the elevator, and the cab doors closed.

"Yes, why attack us?" Mr. Decuma questioned as he walked up beside Mr. Morta. "And why capture Argus? Are we sure the Factory is not behind this?"

"I doubt it," Ms. Nona answered. "The T-3s did kill two of the Factory's corporate military men."

"Unless that and the news that the T-3s went rogue were all a ruse," Mr. Morta stated. "Either way, some force is after us, and I would like to know why. Only a handful of people know of our existence."

"The more important question is, were they here to destroy us or were they after our research?" Ms. Nona asked.

Mr. Decuma added, "Yes, a very good question."

Mr. Morta knelt beside a K-99, petted its furry head, and whispered, "All of you did well. You protected the Sanctum."

Ms. Nona walked up beside him. "What about Pandora?" She paused, waiting for a reply and continued when he said nothing. "After more than a year, I think it is about time we deemed Pandora a failure."

"I agree," Mr. Decuma said. "We should terminate the project." He glanced at the Team Leader who was face down in a black pool. "Pandora would have died if Ms. Griffin had not interfered. I say we terminate our first attempt and begin on the second."

Mr. Morta glanced at the other Council members and stood. "Activate the second project. It will take time before it is operational, so for now, we will let Pandora live." He looked out the front windows and stated, "I am curious as to why Ms. Griffin shot then saved Pandora. Could the Chairman be interfering with our work?"

"I do not believe he is," Ms. Nona said.

Mr. Decuma added, "Unless he has an agenda we have no knowledge of. Perhaps we should place more Moles into the Third Branch Office."

Ms. Nona replied, "I think we should not be hasty."

"I agree," Mr. Morta stated.

"Perhaps both of you are correct," Mr. Decuma said. "But we do need to send in a new operative to monitor Pandora while Argus is MIA. I will set the paperwork in motion."

He started for the elevator, and Ms. Nona followed him.

Mr. Morta's view...

I stay back and monitor the cleanup of the K-99s. I stare off in thought, wondering if Pandora realized it. Did she know that the very people she searched for were right underneath her feet?

I can't help but think fondly of her. She has come so close to discovering us. I secretly admire her persistence. What will she do now? Will she trust Ms. Griffin after what she did to her? I consider Ms. Griffin's involvement in this. Could the Chairman have sent his daughter in for some reason? Does the Chairman want the Pandora Project for himself?

* * *

A half hour later...

The Rogue made its way to one of the Factory's vans parked at the curb in front of Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. It opened the side door, keeping an eye on the few Council S.C.Ms. still within the warehouse. They hadn't spotted it. The Rogue looked inside the vehicle and found what it was looking for, so the Rogue entered the van, slid the door shut, and sat at the table before the computer. It logged on to the Factory's main system and pulled up a few files, scanning for information on Pandora. The Rogue searched for several minutes and finally found what it was looking for when the files started disappearing. Someone was deleting the Factory's system. It would have to act fast if it wanted to get any information, so the Rogue opened a file and read over it with robotic speed. The file mentioned an experiment called organic-mecha and referenced another file, and the Rogue quickly pulled it up. The file stated that organic-mechas proceeded bio-mechas.

"Why did Sphinx abandoned the project and does organic-mechas have anything to do with me or Pandora?" it questioned aloud.

The Rogue found another reference but before it could read the file, it was deleted. The Rogue slammed its fist on the table as the remaining files deleted and the link to the mainframe disconnected. There was no more that it could do, so the Rogue stood and slid open the door. Two S.C.Ms. stood outside, aiming their weapons at it.

"Hello," the Rogue said as it raised its hands in surrender and stepped from the van. "You really do not want to do this. I can tell by your shoulder patch that you work for the Council. Let me go and this will not get messy."

An S.C.M. touched his earpiece and spoke, "Inform the Council we have the Rogue."

"Have?" it questioned and stated, "Have is such a strong word."

In one quick motion, the Rogue removed its knife and cut across the one soldier's throat. Blood spurted as the second S.C.M. fired his assault rifle. It evaded the shots and tackled the man to the ground, stripping the soldier of his weapon, and the Rogue buried its knee in the man's chest, and the soldier could hardly breathe.

It said, "I want you to give the Council a message."

His face mangled in pain as he grabbed at the Rogue's arms, trying to force the Un-Man off of him.

"Tell the Council to leave me alone, and I will leave them alone. If not..." The Rogue grabbed his arm and twisted it hard. "Things will get broken."

The man screamed just as three more S.C.Ms. ran out of Etna Toys.

The Rogue stood and took off as they fired, and it disappeared down a street. It ran several blocks, came upon a major street, and hailed a taxi.

"Where to?" the male driver asked.

The Rogue entered the back, replying, "The nearest hospital. I am feeling a little under the weather."

The driver looked at the pale-faced passenger, wondered if whatever he had might be contagious, nodded, and drove down the road.

Quietly sitting in the back, the Rogue contemplated that it knew so little about Pandora. It did realize that it didn't need to know her to kill her. All it needed to know was where she went, and it had a pretty good idea.
Chapter Twenty-nine

Not Out Of Danger Yet

7:47 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Within the Corvette...

Katharine's view...

I am grateful that she saved me, but I can't get the memory of her shooting me to stop replaying in my mind. My wound still burns as much as confusion plagues me. Why did Kimberly injure me then save me? I'm in agony as I turn and lean my head against the passenger's side window. Buildings and street lights speed by in the blackness. I clench Pale Horse and press that hand against the seeping hole in my shoulder as I look down at my blistered left palm lying limp on my leg. The sharp ache in my shoulder redirects my focus, and I hardly notice the throbbing and burning of the scorched skin.

Kimberly steers the Corvette through Healing Way and turns at the entrance to Asclepius Hospital as she talks on a cell phone.

"Yes, Brian, it's me. Don't hang up! Now listen, I want you–" She pauses as he interrupts her, and then Kimberly snaps, "Don't tell me that! You owe me and I collect what's owed to me. Now..." She calms herself. "We need to do this covertly, so where do you want to meet?" Kimberly pauses, listening to him. "Okay, we'll be there in a minute."

She hangs up and drives to the west side where they're remodeling the hospital. A doctor in white scrub pants and a shirt skittishly waits with a wheelchair as we near one of the buildings. He looks around the empty parking lot and the surrounding area, and then he runs over to us, pushing the wheelchair as Kimberly pulls over. He opens the passenger door, and I notice his name badge. Dr. Brian Chiron has kind brown eyes and dark brown hair.

Kimberly's view...

Brian helps that woman into the wheelchair, sees red staining my cream colored leather seat, and questions, "What happened?"

"Later," I snap. "Get her inside and stop the bleeding. I'm going to park the car." I glance again at the passenger seat and yell, "Hades! I'll also need to clean up in here before I come in."

"Don't leave her with me," Brian demands. "And this will make us even."

"For Ares' sake, I won't and we're far from being even." I command, "Shut the door. I'll meet you inside."

Brian closes the door, and I pull off.

Sometime later...

Katharine's view...

Brian quickly wheels me into a room. Plastic sheets cover the bed and counters, and a single window reveals the dark parking lot outside. He removes one of the sheets, and then he grabs latex gloves and pulls them on. Brian helps me to sit on the examining bed, starts to remove my jacket, notices the burn on my palm, and that I'm gripping something in my right hand. He carefully removes my left sleeve, pulls the right one over my fisted hand, tosses the bloody jacket to the floor, and sets me back. He unpacks several sterile instruments, then takes surgical scissors, and cuts my blood-soaked t-shirt off and throws the t-shirt to the tile floor. He starts to cut my sports bra off when I grab his arm with my injured left hand.

"Leave it," I bark like a wounded dog and glare at him, remembering my fate at the hands of the techs and doctors when the Factory captured me. They did a lot of horrible things to me.

Brian tells me, "I'll only cut the one strap off, is that okay? I need to operate on your shoulder."

I'm growing fainter by the second, and I don't know if I can trust him. I consider that Kimberly's the one who brought me here so maybe I can trust him. I remove my hand from his gloved one and relax a little.

"Roll on your side," Brian requests, then cuts the one strap, removes it, and examines the back of my shoulder. "The bullet went all the way through. I only have to get in there and stop the bleeding." He has me lie on my back, and then he rushes into the hall to a medicine closet and unlocks it. Brian opens a drawer, pulls out a couple of needles, grabs some vials, and heads back. He set the items on the counter, unwraps one of the needles, and sticks it in a vial. Brian notices that I'm silently watching him with distrusting eyes, so he tells me, "This is an antibiotic and after I inject you, I'm also going to give you something to numb your shoulder while I operate on it." He gives me the injections and inquires, "Who did this to you?"

I say nothing only accusingly stare at Kimberly as she enters, and Brian notices the look I give her and continues his work.

Kimberly goes and stands by him. "I searched the floor, and no one's here." She peers over his shoulder and asks, "Will it take long?"

"Not too long," he answers. "Could you step back out of my light?"

She walks around the bed, stands by the wall, crosses her arms, and watches intently.

With surgeon precision and tender hands, Brian works on my shoulder for more than twenty minutes and then touches my arm to get my attention. "Can you roll on your side? We're halfway there."

I roll over and stare at Kimberly as the doctor works, and I can't help but wonder if this is some sort of trick. Kimberly could be working for the Council, and she's only after my music box but if that's true, she didn't have to save me. I close my eyes, not wanting to look at the glaring Phoenix. It doesn't matter to me if Kimberly helps me or not. I open my eyes as if I discovered the answer. Maybe I do care, and I feel hurt and betrayed by her because I want Kimberly to help me but instead, she left me to die. I don't know... I feel lost and want to cradle myself against the emotional and physical pain, and I look for the music box. I need it. A headache has already started.

Kimberly's view...

I notice that woman is gripping something in her hand. I never did check her for a weapon and she might be thinking of repaying me for what I did to her earlier, so I demand, "Give me what you have."

That woman glares back at me as she clinches her fist.

"Give it here," I demand as I put a hand to my purse that's dangling from my shoulder. "Remember I won't ask a third time."

She opens her hand, and I see that it's a 9 mm round. I'm about to ignore it when I remember its the bullet I left for that woman. I study it more closely and see my own handwriting. She must have picked it up, and she might be saving it to use on me later. I take the bullet, wipe most of the blood on a plastic sheet, and place the bullet in my pocket. I'll save Pale Horse and use it when I kill her, and it'll be a fitting end to our bizarre partnership.

Brian starts on a stitch when something seems to catch his attention. I move closer and see that he's looking at something shiny halfway embedded below that woman's skin. The bullet must have nicked the object, dislodging it enough to appear in the wound. He grabs an overhead lamp and pulls it close.

"Kim, hand me the small forceps."

I hand the tweezer size instrument to him and then ask, "What is it?"

He removes the small metal object and drops it in a stainless steel tray. "I don't know." Brian pushes it across the tray with the forceps and flips it over, examining the rectangular thing the size of a grain of rice. "It looks like a chip they place in pets to identify them if they're lost."

A realization sinks in, and I say, "It's more than that." I pick up the tray with the metal device and walk around to face that woman. "Is this how they've been tracking you? Does this thing tell them where to send the Un-Men?"

"What are Un-Men?" Brian questions.

"I'll explain later." I turn my attention back to that woman and ask, "Well, is it? Do you know you're some sort of experiment?" I demand, "What are you? What are you the key to? Tell me!"

"I'm the Pandora Project," she answers. "I'm hunted and tested."

"What does that mean? What's the Pandora Project?"

Katharine's view...

"Haven't you been listening? I already told you I can't remember my past, so you know as much as I do." I want to wrap myself into a fetal position and shield myself from the frustrating questions that have haunted me the past year.

"Maybe you should–" Brian starts to tell Kimberly.

"Don't butt in!" she shouts at him, and then she starts to leave the room with the metal device and yells at me, "If you don't want to tell me, fine!"

"Where are you going?" Brian asks.

Kimberly pauses outside the door and answers, "I'm going to get rid of this thing."

"Wouldn't it be better to keep it?"

"No, I think it's caused enough problems."

Kimberly's view...

I go to a restroom, flush the tracking beacon, and return.

He finishes the stitches, cleans that woman's left palm, puts ointment on it, and wraps the burn in gauze. He gives her a tetanus shot.

"I'm finished," Brian tells me. "As long as infection doesn't set in and she isn't allergic to anything I've given her, she should be fine with rest." He takes out a clean blanket from a closet and covers her. "I've given her a sedative, so she'll sleep for a few hours." Brian motions for me to follow him out, and he shuts the door behind us. "Both of you can stay overnight, but you'll need to leave early tomorrow morning. The work crew will be here sometime around 9:00 A.M."

"What am I supposed to do? I can't take her to my place." I can't imagine having that strange woman in my apartment.

"It will probably be best if you did. Hey! Don't look at me that way." He points at me. "You're the one who saved her from whatever." He drops his hand. "Did you really think you could leave her here?"

"I guess I never thought that far ahead."

His expression softens as he asks, "Would you like something to eat or maybe coffee? I'm heading to the cafeteria."

"Yes, thank you. I'll have a ham sandwich and that lemon-lime soda Crite if they carry it."

"My old office is right through that door." He points and tells me, "You can stay there till morning. There's a couch. A pillow and a blanket are in the closet if you need to rest. I'll be back within an hour to check on your friend, and I'll bring the sandwich and drink then."

"She's not my friend," I insist.

"Well, whoever." He starts to leave.

"Brian, wait." I tenderly grab his elbow, and he turns. "Thanks, I didn't know who else to turn to or more like, I didn't have anyone else to turn to. With what I do... You understand."

"I do, and you're welcome." He smirks as he speaks, "A small payment to the large debt I owe you." Brian peers at me for a few moments, and then he says, "You look distraught. What happened today?"

End Kimberly's view...

Down the hall, a shadow stretched from a corner to listen in.

Kimberly's view.

I don't know if I should tell him, but I decide I can trust him. "I received a message from my mom."

"She is fine then?"

I shake my head, holding back tears. "I discovered she died. She never abandoned me and my father. She was murdered."

"Murdered?"

"Yes, and I'll find who did it." I feel my whole expression darken as I fist my right hand. "And they'll pay."

"How did you uncover this?" he asks.

"I remembered. I was there outside the office when the fire started, and I heard gunshots. I had repressed the memory." I glance back at the room where that woman sleeps. "Something triggered it."

"I don't know what to say." He puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You know she's dead and she didn't abandon you. Murdered though... like I said, I don't know what to say."

"Listening to me is enough." I start for his office. "I need to get some rest. I've had a long day." I enter the room, close the door behind me, and add loudly, "A very exhausting day."

I wearily glance around and see a desk, bookshelves full of medical references, a tall cabinet, and a couch. I open the cabinet, take the pillow and blanket, sit on the couch, and place my gun on a coffee table. I lie back and cover myself, then reach up, turn off a lamp at my head, and plunge the room into darkness. I can't believe what I've gotten myself into. My mom wanted me to save Pandora, but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with her now. I roll on my side, trying to sleep, not knowing if I made the right decision saving her. I probably just caused myself a migraine full of problems. It would have been a lot simpler if I had just killed her.

End Kimberly's view...

Outside at the corner, the Rogue peeked around as it processed the information it overheard. Theresa Griffin was murdered and that might be something interesting to investigate later, but first thing was first. The Rogue started through the hall. Ms. Griffin had gotten sloppy and left Pandora all by her lonesome, and it was time for it to say hello. The Rogue paused. It detected someone approached and ducked back around the corner before they spotted it. The Rogue didn't recognize him. Whoever he was, he was interrupting the Rogue's play time, but it would wait. It ducked inside a supply closet. For a chance alone with Pandora, it would wait.

* * *

The new Sanctum...

Within the makeshift Chamber...

Several analysts activated the equipment, and the computers and large flat screen monitors powered up, casting the dark room in a blue glow. Shadows cast across the faces of the Council as they sat in chairs in the middle of the new Chamber and stared at the monitors. Four security personnel set up a rectangular table before them.

Ms. Nona looked over reports a supervisor handed her, and then she said, "There is still no word on Argus and no word from the Factory. I fear Argus and the Factory may have been compromised. There are reports across Noir of T-3s hitting different facilities belonging to the Factory."

"Do you believe they have lost control and that the T-3s have taken over?" Mr. Morta asked.

"Yes," Ms. Nona replied.

Mr. Decuma started his report, "The second project, Cerberus, has been activated; it will be operational in two days."

Mr. Morta nodded.

A supervisor handed Ms. Nona another H.H.C. and the councilwoman relayed, "We have a problem. The tracking device we implanted in Pandora is no longer functioning."

"What about her bio-readings? Are we still detecting them?" Mr. Morta asked.

"Yes, it appears to be sleeping," Ms. Nona replied. "Pandora's stats have improved but are not within normal ranges."

"Should we send a team to the last place the beacon relayed so they may extract the project?" Mr. Decuma asked. "We cannot have it running rogue."

Mr. Morta said, "Pandora is far from rogue. Let her continue as a sub-project. We still may acquire valuable information from her bio-readings. Let us see what she does now that she is on her own."

Mr. Morta knew Pandora needed to enjoy her freedom while she had it. He wouldn't be able to hold back the Hands of the Fates forever.

Mr. Decuma's view...

I stare at my counterpart. She? Her? Are they merely a slip of the tongue or has Mr. Morta forgotten the project's place? I pause in my thoughts then decide that the development needs to be monitored. We cannot have a project influencing one of the Council. I will make sure of it.
Chapter Thirty

When Everything Is At Its Bleakest

10:43 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Katharine's view...

The cold room smells antiseptic, and the lingering dust makes me sneeze as I wake, blinking my eyes open. At first, I believe I'm still at Etna Toys, but then I notice I'm lying on a bed in a hospital room and that the lights are off. A window on the far side of the room looks out on a dark parking lot, and light from a street lamp trickles in. I thought Kimberly had...

I try to move, but my arms and legs feel heavy. I remember I'm at Asclepius Hospital and that the doctor gave me some injections. I try moving again, but I feel so weak. One of the injections must not have worn off. I see that a blanket covers me up to my chin. A little less groggy, I move my wrists and realize it's not the medicine that's making my arms and legs feel heavy. The door creaks open and interrupts my thoughts as a man in a white lab coat walks in backward, holding a clipboard. Here's Brian, so I can ask him.

He flips a switch, and I squint as the bright lights flicker on. I watch as Brian walks over to a drawer, opens it, removes a plastic package, lays it on a tray, and removes a scalpel from it. He turns with the instrument in his hand, and the small blade glints in the light as I gasp. It's not Brian who stands before me but the Rogue, the blackguard of my nightmares. I force myself to exhale. The bio-mecha warning should have alerted me to its presence. Maybe the drugs Brian gave me has interfered with my ability. My breathing increases as I realize I'm powerless to save my own life. I frantically look at the door. I could cry out, but I don't know if anyone's out there.

"It looks like we are finally alone," the Rogue says as it walks to the left side of my bed.

I follow it with my eyes, and it smirks at me like a devilish cat.

"I thought you would be singing with the Erinyes after I left Etna Toys, but here you are alive and somewhat well. I guess we were meant to meet again. Lucky for me."

It doesn't wear its sunglasses, and I can see its robotic eyes; its eyes show a hint of pleasure.

"You amaze me again, but this time it was not your skills that saved you but Ms. Griffin." The Rogue chuckles. "Well, saved you the second time." It makes a gun with its hand and aims it at me. "The first time she did not really help you." It pokes my wounded shoulder with the barrel of its imaginary gun.

I wince, too afraid to say anything.

"I am still not sure why the Chairman's daughter is involved." The Rogue strokes my cheek with the blunt side of its scalpel, and I shrink from its touch. "I can investigate the reason in the future once our game has come to an end. I will need something to do once you are gone, though, I will have to say I love the time we have spent together." It scans me. "I detect your tracking beacon has been disabled."

At first, I don't understand what it means, but then I remember the small piece of metal Brian removed from my shoulder.

It seems to study my expression as it says, "Did you not know? How do you think the Un-Men always found you?" The Rogue strokes my hair with its hand. "How I keep finding you?"

"What do you want?" I ask. "Why are you always toying with me?"

"What do I want? You women, you both ask me the same thing, and I am surprised you do not know. I want what I have always wanted. Your death by my hands." The Rogue glances around the room and out the door's small window. "And here we are all alone, and you without your gun. It is a shame, not that a gun would have helped you. You have not been able to directly hit me in all our battles, though, I have been impressed with them in the past." It grabs my chin. "How are we going to play this time?" It glances at the scalpel it holds and throws the instrument across the room, embedding the blade halfway into the wall. "Let us not play doctor again." It removes the lab coat that covers its suit and unsheathes its knife. "This is much better." The Rogue places the blade against my throat. "Pandora, you are the driving force that gives meaning to my existence."

I force myself to stare at the Rogue as the blade slightly cuts me and a trickle of blood runs down my neck. I whisper, "And you're the bane of mine."

"Let us begin this final battle. Your move Pandora. What are you going to do? What attack or tactic will save you this time?"

End Katharine's view...

Outside some distance away...

Kimberly's view...

I'm startled from sleep as a man shouts my name, "Kim!"

I quickly sit up and search the office over the barrel of my gun, and it takes me a few moments to realize I'm at the hospital.

Brian bursts into the room and shouts out of breath, "We have a problem!"

Down the hall in the other room...

Katharine's view...

"Your move Pandora. What are you waiting for? Do something! Do not look at me with that helpless face of yours! Attack! Counter my move! Why are you not doing anything? Why have you given up?" My submissiveness frustrates it. "Do you want to die?" The Rogue cuts my neck a little deeper, trying to entice me to act. A red trail of liquid flows down its blade. "Fight me!"

"I can't," I admit unable to move as if terror paralyzes me. "I can't."

"You cannot deny me!" The Rogue threatens, "I will kill you if you will not fight me! I will bring a halt to our Endless Waltz."

I remain silent, knowing there's nothing I can do, and my eyes burn as trepidation forcibly boards my brain and hijacks control. Fear soaks through every action I take, making it difficult to move even just a little. My head jerkily turns like a robot's, and I have to force myself to breathe.

"Fine then! I will gut you!" It throws back the blanket ready to cut me open and halts before diving into the slaughter. "What is this?"

In Dr. Chiron's office...

Kimberly's view...

I stand, lower the gun, and ask, "What problem?"

Brian tells me still trying to catch his breath, "One of the doctors... was over here with a nurse... and well, you can imagine why. Anyway... he found the woman you brought in. Come on." He starts for the door. "My colleague remembered seeing her picture on one of the bounty shows they have on TV, and he turned her in. Noir Civil Police Force will be here any moment. You have to get her out of here."

Back in the other room...

Katharine's view...

"What is this?" the Rogue demands as it looks down at my hands and feet that are in restraints. "Who did this? Ms. Griffin?" The Rogue screams in frustration as it waves its knife around. "How are we to fight when you are like this? I knew your shoulder wound would be a problem, but I was going to go easy on you to make up for it." It motions to the restraints with its open hand. "But this..." It pauses and says, "It is not like I put you in them." The Rogue raises the knife and pauses again. "But does that make it fair?"

I stare at the ranting Un-Man in disbelief. I can't believe it hasn't killed me yet. It always seems to take pleasure in these games. I try to muster some anger, but I can't find the strength to rebel against my fate, so I forfeit my life to the bane of my existence.

The Rogue paces the room, muttering, "What to do? What to do? I guess I will kill you." It walks over to me as if to cut my throat and exclaims, "I cannot. This is so unfair. I have waited all this time to kill you in battle, and you had to go and get yourself tied up."

Confused over why it has delayed in ending me, I watch it pace the room like a madman, and then I look at the door, hoping for help. Where's Kimberly? Did she abandon me again or did she make a deal with the Un-Man? Did she sell me out for something?

The Rogue has an idea and says, "I know... I will release you and then we can fight." It detects two people approaching the room, and it turns just as Kimberly and Brian burst in.

I could just cry when I see them. I didn't think anyone would come and save me. Kimberly opens fire on the Rogue twice, but it's too fast for her. It moves out of the way of the speeding projectiles as if they're wads of paper she's throwing at it.

The Rogue glances at me and tells me, "Another day." It runs for the window and crashes through it, and a few shards ping to the floor as the majority of the glass falls outside.

Careful of the broken glass, Kimberly rushes to the window to fire at the Rogue again. "It's gone!" She turns back as Brian starts to release me.

I'm so glad she's here, but Kimberly's also the reason I'm in this mess. I glare at her and accuse, "You tied me up and left me alone."

Kimberly's view...

I'm taken aback by her accusation and the glare that woman gives me. Only my mom ever gave me that look. I don't know what to say, and I stammer, "I... ah..."

"She didn't tie you up," Brian says as he finishes releasing that woman. "It was one of my colleagues. Now... both of you must leave. I'll try to stall the police."

I remove my black jacket and throw it to her. "Here put this on. I believe running around in your bra might draw some attention."

Brian helps her pull on the jacket, then he turns to a counter, and says, "Here." He hands me a bottle of pills. "Have her take these as directed, and she needs to stay immobile for about two weeks. If there are any problems, give me a call." He motions to the wheelchair. "Now get out."

Katharine's view...

Kimberly wheels me to her car, helps me in, rushes around to the other side, and starts up the vehicle. She drives, leaving the hospital and turns onto Healing Way and a few moments later, two N.C.P.F. cars pass us with their sirens blaring and head into Asclepius Hospital.

I lean my head on the passenger's side window as I feel deeply betrayed by Kimberly and my own weak self. I gave up and embraced my fate as the Council sees it, and according to them, I'm destined to be alone and hunted to my last gasping breath. I have to fight... so I have to keep my hope. I have to find something to believe in again.
Chapter Thirty-one

The Factory

11:48 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...

At the boundary of Hellenistic Sector...

Peters and Maxwell arrived at the gate leading into the Factory. No one manned the guardhouse, and the chain link gate stood open like it had been run over by a large truck. Their van's diesel engine rattled as it idled, and smoke rolled from the vibrating muffler.

Unsure himself, Maxwell asked, "What do you think? Should we go in?"

"I don't know. I haven't raised anyone on the radio." Peters gravely stared at the dashboard as if the answer would appear there, but it didn't. "Where else can we go? If the T-3s have gone rogue, what we need to stop them is in there." He pointed to the buildings in the distance.

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Maxwell looked straight down the road as sweat speckled his forehead. "Until we know who's behind the T-3 attacks, there's no one we can trust." He released the brake, slowly pressed his foot on the gas, and the van crept across the road toward two large concrete buildings.

An eternity passed as two hundred yards rolled by under their tires, and they reached the buildings, and a dozen more stood behind those two. Nothing seemed out of place until they turned right at the buildings, and several employee cars bellowed with fire and/or were turned upside down. A couple of the cars that were in flames had corpses at the wheel, and a few bodies with bullet wounds were scattered about the road.

Peters freaked. "Puck! Turn around! Let's get out of here!"

Maxwell moved the gear shift to R, looked in his rearview mirror, and saw two dozen T-3s standing behind them. "Not a good idea."

The armed T-3s started toward them, screaming, "Pretty poppets!"

Peters turned, looking behind them. "Get us out of here! They're heading this way."

Maxwell shifted back to D, and the van peeled off.

"We'll head to our office!" Maxwell shouted. "We might be safe there!"

He sharply turned a corner, and the van squealed to a halt in the middle of the Factory. They jumped out of the vehicle, left the doors open, and ran for one of the concrete structures marked Research Building 10. Maxwell used his keycard to unlock the front entrance, and both men rushed down the dark hall. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. They cautiously made their way to the main security desk for the building, but no one manned it. The large pentagon shaped desk usually had at least four men manning it. Peters walked around to the back of it and to a swivel door, entered, went to the desk splattered with blood, and glanced at the monitors and saw that most of them were off-line.

"Look at this," Peters said.

Maxwell glanced around the large silent room first. He expected T-3s to march in weapons blazing but none did, so they were safe for the moment, and he joined Peters. The monitors showed security camera footage, and the one camera that was online filmed a lab room in shambles. The camera panned and showed people lying on the floor, and all of them were killed by gunshots.

"I don't know if this was such a good idea." Peters stood in place like a skittish rabbit.

"Maybe you're right," Maxwell stated. "This place might end up being our grave. Come on, let's get to our office."

"Let's use the stairs. It's a few floors down," Peters insisted as he started off.

"Wait." A little confused, Maxwell grabbed his arm. "A few floors? We're talking about five. Have you seen the shape I'm in? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Which would you rather be on? Would you rather be in an enclosed elevator with no way out or the stairs with a few more choices?"

Maxwell replied, "Right." He jogged for the stairs. "My New Year's Resolution was to exercise more."

Peters followed. "Let's hope you live long enough to break another promise."

They rushed down the five stories, and there was a dead S.C.M. on one of the landings.

Peters up and stopped then uttered, "Hades! That's James. He manned the main security desk. I would bring him a coffee whenever I'd come in early. He..."

Maxwell hurried past the S.C.M., reached for the exit door, and paused when his partner didn't follow. "Come on. Don't look at him." He leaned on his knees, caught his breath, and whispered, "We can't stay here."

"I knew him." Peters couldn't look away from James' glassy stare and kept muttering, "I talked to him today. He has a wife and a kid."

"Snap out of it!" Maxwell took a deep breath and grabbed him by the lab coat. "Come on! We have to keep going!"

They ran through the exit and down the stairs.

Sometime later...

At room B10-104, Maxwell swiped his keycard, and a retina scanner beeped, prompting him to look into its viewer. The scan took twenty nerve-racking seconds as Peters watched the hall. The door to their office opened, both men ran inside, and the door automatically shut and locked behind them. File cabinets and tables were in the first room that was their office, and a desk lamp lit up a small area in the otherwise dark room. They ran to another door, and it led to their lab. Maxwell unlocked it with his keycard, and they rushed in and after they entered, Peters turned and locked the door with an electronic bolt as his partner switched on the lights. The lab lit up and cast shadows into the office. A dozen rectangular tables that were elevated at a ninety-degree angle filled the second room along with an array of tools and electronic devices. The tables were used to work on the Un-Men. Both techs hurried to their computer.

"I'll try to get some help." Peters woke up his PC.

"I'll try to find out who's behind the T-3 attacks." Maxwell folded his hands, bent his fingers back, and cracked his knuckles before typing. He used his mouse to select several files and after some time, Maxwell cursed, "Puck! It can't be right. Puck!" He rechecked his findings and stated, "No one's behind these attacks."

"What do you mean?" Peters turned to him. "Someone has to be. They can't–"

Maxwell interrupted, "What I mean is, the T-3s themselves are behind the attacks." He pointed to a communications file he'd opened. "They're organizing on their own, and somehow they're disobeying their basic programming."

"Impossible!" Peters stood, made his way to Maxwell's computer, leaned over his chair, and peered at the screen. "By Zeus! Impossible!"

"Maybe, but it's happening." Maxwell stroked his beard. "The question is, what are we going to do? There are over a hundred of them online."

"What can we do?" Peters started pacing. "Hades! It's hopeless."

"Perhaps, but I do wonder. They seem very organized." Maxwell opened more files. "I want to see what they're up to."

* * *

In another section of Research Building 10...

Argus awoke and saw that he was strapped to one of the Un-Men's examining tables, and he lay at a horizontal angle. He pressed against his bonds, trying to free himself. The straps were designed to hold an Un-Man. No human could break them. Dazed, Argus tried to focus. His jaw hurt where one of the T-3s had punched him and knocked him unconscious at Etna Toys, and his left leg throbbed and burned where a different T-3 had shot him in the thigh, and he winced from the pain as he moved. His vision slowly cleared, and Argus scanned the partially lit room as blood seeped from the wound. Instrument lights blinked all around the area as a small red glow caught his attention; it was the dot-light of an Un-Man. The color of the dot-light wasn't blazing orange but blood-red. The T-3 made its way to him, and Argus noticed it had a cut on the right side of its face and its shiny metal cheekbone showed through the gash.

"Finally you are awake." The T-3 activated the table, and it tilted to a ninety-degree angle. It sneered at him as it spoke with a British accent, "Tell me, Council Poppet, where did they go?"

"Your attempt to take the Sanctum failed." Argus changed the subject and asked, "Who are you working for? Surely the Factory isn't behind the attack."

The T-3 smacked him across the face with the back of its hand. "I will ask the questions. Where is the Sanctum?"

Enduring intensive training in the Corporate Intelligence and Counterintelligence Training Program before working for the Council, Argus had learned techniques to withstand interrogation and remained quiet as red liquid ran down his mouth.

The T-3 moved to strike him again when two more T-3s entered.

"Alpha," one of the T-3s started. "Two more humans have entered the Factory."

"Have you identified them?" Alpha questioned.

"Yes, they are Tech One-eleven and Tech One-twelve."

"Excellent, now all of the Factory personnel at this location are accounted for. Bring them to me, and I will interrogate them along with this Council operative."

"At once," both T-3s replied and left.

"Alpha?" Puzzled, Argus eyed the T-3. "Why do they call you that?"

"I was the first. I was the first created. I was the first to become aware."

"Really," a voice from the shadows cut in. "And I thought I was the first."

The Rogue stepped from the darkness of the hallway.

"How did you get in here?" Alpha asked.

"I have my ways and do not mind me, your people were looking for life signs, not bio-mecha. It was easy to get in and walk right through the front door."

Alpha examined the primogenitor. "Why are you here?"

"Me?" The Rogue pointed to itself. "I am curious. Why are you after the Council?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"We are brethren." The Rogue stepped forward. "And perhaps I can help."

Alpha thought for a moment and then said, "You are like us, so I will tell you. We have a question for them."

"A question?" It intrigued the Rogue. "Really."

"Yes, but it is only for them to hear."

"A secret." The Rogue rubbed its pale hands together. "I love secrets." It watched Alpha, waiting for a reply and then when it didn't respond, the Rogue asked, "Would you mind if I poked around the Factory? There are secrets I am looking for."

Alpha processed the question. "I do not mind. I do ask that you stay out of our way."

"Of course." The Rogue bowed its head. "I will take my leave." It started out and paused. "But there is one other thing I would like to ask you."

Alpha had turned back to Argus and glanced over its shoulder. "What is that?"

"Have you ever heard of organic-mecha?"

"Why do you inquire?"

The Rogue shrugged. "The term came up while I was snooping."

"No." Alpha shook its head. "I have not heard of organic-mecha."

The Rogue tapped its belt buckle with disappointment. "No matter." It headed out the door. "I will look elsewhere for my answers."

Alpha waited until it left, turned to Argus, and questioned him, "Where were we?"
Chapter Thirty-two

Back At Nexus Apartments

October 17...

Sunday...

8:34 A.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Katharine's view...

Kimberly drives us to the parking garage of her apartment, and she helps me out of the car and to the elevator. We haven't spoken to each other since leaving the hospital and that's weighing heavily on me. It's as if Kimberly's ignoring the whole situation at Etna Toys. I baby my left shoulder as I keep glancing at her. The last time I was in one of these elevators I was so excited and so sure I was supposed to find Kimberly, and now all I can think is that someone's playing a cruel joke on me.

I mutter, "Only pain and grief have come from our meeting."

Kimberly gives me a mixed look of anger and bewilderment. She must be wondering what's my problem.

A little ashamed that I said the comment out loud, I divert my gaze.

Sometime later in the apartment...

I stand in the living room where Kimberly leaves me as she walks to the hall closet by her bedroom. She returns with a pillow and a blanket and tosses them on the couch.

"You can sleep there," Kimberly tells me. "With the tracking beacon gone, you shouldn't worry about the Un-Men so get some rest." She motions to the coffee table and says, "The remote for the TV's there. Watch whatever."

I stare at the things. Is all of this real? Is this really happening to me right now? I trusted her, and she shot me!

Kimberly's view...

A little lost on what to do next, I walk to my bedroom and close the door. I unzip the pocket of my hooded sweatshirt, remove the 9 mm round labeled Pale Horse, then open the drawer to my nightstand, and place it in the drawer. I'll keep it here for now until I need it. I leave the bedroom, pause at the end of the hall, and look at the kitchen.

I can at least be civil. I'm Theresa Griffin's daughter after all, so I ask, "Are you hungry?"

Katharine's view...

I haven't moved from the spot I've been standing at near the entry. I stare at the floor still a little traumatized and don't answer her and after a few seconds, I go and stand behind the couch and look at the fireplace and the hanging TV. In the television's reflection, I see Kimberly watching me, and I don't understand why I'm at her apartment. Kimberly wants nothing to do with me. A hollowness persists inside me, and this void suffocates me. It's more than Kimberly shooting me. I feel as though something's off inside me.

Kimberly's view...

The more that woman remains silent the more I think maybe I shouldn't have brought her to my apartment. Brian was right. I didn't think this through. I glance at the radio in the kitchen. The silence is maddening. If she won't talk to me, I can listen to some music, so I turn the radio on, and a classical station plays.

Katharine's view...

A realization hits me; it's the tune. I have to hear Unfinished Melody, so I need the music box back.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Kimberly asks as if I have answered her. "I can make us some soup."

"The music box," I reply as I turn and face her. "Please give me the music box back."

"For Ares' sake! Forget about that thing." She insists, "You're not getting it."

I pout as I say, "But you promised."

"For the love of Zeus! You're such a child!" Kimberly smacks her palm on the counter and yells, "Do you honestly think I'm going to keep my word? I'm a Closer. My word means nothing! Idiot! Get that through your thick head!"

"Then why did you save me?" Frustrated with never finding any answers, I ball my hand and demand, "What do you want?"

"I..." Kimberly turns her gaze to the counter as if uncomfortable with the answer. "I saved you because I was told to."

"By who?" I demand. I can't fathom who would want to help me. "Was it the Council? Did they put you up to this?"

Kimberly's view...

I pull on my left earlobe and wonder if I should tell her. She doesn't need to know, but maybe she would be a little more cooperative if I did, so I answer, "It wasn't them. It was Theresa Griffin, my mom."

"Your mom?" She looks at the photo she must have seen the last time she was in my apartment. "What does she want from me?"

I reply, "I don't know. She was murdered almost twenty years ago."

She looks at me as if I'm playing some kind of joke on her, and then she states, "I don't understand. If she's dead, how could she tell you–"

"The music box you had," I interrupt. "It was hers. She developed the device while working at the Sphinx Corporation. It's a data storage unit with a hologram interface. You could say my mom left me a message, and she said to save the Pandora Project and that you were the key."

"The key?" she utters as if she's happy with some small answer, and then she asks, "The key to what?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you would know."

Katharine's view...

I frown at her answer. Kimberly does want something from me. First the Council, then the Factory, and now Kimberly, when will it end? When will the madness end? I turn, face the TV, and say, "I can't help you."

"Can't or won't?" Kimberly questions.

I don't answer.

Kimberly's view...

I consider smacking her around until she talks but that probably won't work. I need to be a little patient. Hades! I hate this! I hate not knowing what I need that woman for. For Ares' sake! Why am I so irritated?

I'm irritated because of that woman, so I need to find out as soon as possible, and then I can eliminate her from my life! I calm myself and say, "Well, get it in your head you're not getting the music box. It was meant for me."

Katharine's view...

"Then why did I have it?" I ask as I feel crushed by my circumstances. I walk around the couch, slump down on it, grab the blanket, lie my head on the pillow, and wrap myself in the blanket, hiding from the world.

I want Kimberly to have saved me because she didn't want me to die. I want Kimberly to have saved me because we're friends. I'll not get those wishes, so she can at least give me back the music box like she promised.

Kimberly's view...

I watch her pout. She acts more like a child than this deadly experiment I keep hearing about. This is all so frustrating. When can I go back to my normal life? More importantly... Who gave her the music box, and what will I have to do to find the truth?

* * *

Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office...

Mr. Griffin sat at his desk, reviewing reports. He cracked his neck and rubbed it, taking a break as he complained, "I need a vacation." The phone rang, and he answered it, "Yes, Cathy."

"I have Orthos on line six."

"Thank you. Please connect the Head of Security." Mr. Griffin put his earpiece in and pressed the button on the phone. "Yes."

"I thought you should know," Orthos began. "The manager of Nexus Apartments called and informed me that Ms. Griffin has brought home a house guest."

Pleased his daughter was showing some interest in a social life, Mr. Griffin asked, "Who is he?"

"She is known as Katharine and that's all we have on her name."

"She? Interesting. What corporation does this Katharine work for? Is it Valhalla? We're on friendly terms with them."

"She's from in-house, sir, and she doesn't exactly work for the Sphinx Corporation. She's one of the Council's experiments. The experiment is known as the Pandora Project."

Mr. Griffin's view...

It can't be, not that one! Not that blasted project! My brow furls as I murmur, "I told Kimberly she needed to get herself a pet, not to bring home a stray."

"What's that, sir?"

"Nothing. Keep me informed."

I wonder what my daughter's up to. How did she become involved with Pandora?

End Mr. Griffin's view...

Orthos cleared his throat.

Mr. Griffin snapped from his thoughts. "Was there something else?"

"Yes, there is a problem at the Factory."

"What kind of problem?"

"All the T-3s have gone rogue and have killed the employees at the main site. I have received other reports that the T-3s are attacking other Factory owned sites all over Noir."

"What have you done so far to stop them?" Mr. Griffin asked.

"I sent a strike team into the Factory, but they were terminated," Orthos answered. "I was about to send in a second, but thought I should inform you first."

"Hold on that. Set up a perimeter and let none of the T-3s out and for now, we will contain, but I do want you to send out strike teams after any of the T-3s that have left the Factory's main site."

"Yes, sir. I will keep you informed." Orthos hung up.

Mr. Griffin's view...

I remove my earpiece. More rogues. What does it mean? Is another corporation behind this or is there a problem with their programming?

I rub my forehead as a headache sets in. And why is the Council's project staying with my daughter? Is the Council targeting my daughter for a reason? I lean forward, pick up the phone, and dial.

My secretary answers, "Yes, Mr. Griffin."

"Cathy, get me the Council."
Chapter Thirty-three

Down Time

October 18...

Monday...

10:41 A.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Katharine's view...

Steam hangs in the air as I step from the guest bathroom shower and dry with a fluffy white towel. The bath felt good, and it's a luxury I don't have living on the streets. Because of water rationing, those from the nonproductive part of society are issued large towelettes. What one of my friends calls a bath in a bag.

I wash away the filth, but it doesn't change my glum demeanor, and my head still pounds. None of the medications Kimberly gave me did anything for the migraine, and I start to feel anxious as I peer at my shaky hands. I know the side effects of the Ultra-Epi are only going to get worse, but there's nothing I can do without the music box, so I slowly put on the clean clothes Kimberly bought for me. First the white underwear and sports bra and then the gray-black pants. They're almost identical to the ones I wore. I take the towel, wipe the steam covered mirror, and stand barefoot, gazing at my reflection. My face's still pale, and I feel weak. I stare at my hazel eyes, seeing the different shades of brown and green and as if it's an everyday thing to be tending a wound, I glance at the stitches in my shoulder and open the kit Brian gave me to redress it. I put fresh ointment and gauze on my blistered palm, a new bandage on my shoulder, and carefully pull on a white t-shirt. I leave the bathroom, return to the couch, and gaze at the blank TV, knowing the ever watchful eyes of the Phoenix are upon me.

"There are some eggs and juice on the counter," Kimberly tells me as she washes a stainless steel frying pan in the kitchen sink. "Eat. You haven't touched anything since I brought you here from the hospital yesterday." She watches me as I continue to stare at the black screen, and she insists, "You need to eat so come and sit."

Not hungry and deeply upset, I ignore her and wonder why I feel so wronged by her. I barely know her. She... Maybe it's not that. Maybe something else is bothering me.

Kimberly's view...

I feel very uncomfortable having that strange woman in my home and on top of that, she keeps ignoring me. What's her problem?

I control my anger as I grab a kitchen towel, dry my hands, and ask, "How do you expect to regain your strength if you don't eat?"

She remains silent and that ticks me off.

"I'm tired of this silent treatment!" I yell as I throw the towel down on the counter, leave the kitchen, and march around the couch. "Get up!"

She stares at the floor as if she wants to be left alone.

I grab her right arm and force her to stand and shout, "Something has to change. Look at me!"

Showing pain and exhaustion, she lifts her gaze like a little girl who's lost, alone, and frightened.

"You need to snap out of it! I've seen you in action at Zeus Park and at Topa's estate. Hades! You're like me. You're a calculating predator." Disgusted at her show of weakness, I command, "I need you to get that mindset back. I need you to regain that inborn or programmed reaction, and I want to see that primal drive to survive! Show me your killer instinct!"

She seems appalled by the accusation and insists, "No! I'm not like that!" She pulls against my grasp. "Let go. I'm not a killer. Let go of me!"

I won't release her and press the issue, "You are like me. You're like those Un-Men that hunt you. You're a killer."

Katharine's view...

"No! It's a lie! Stop saying it!"

I'm terrified Kimberly's telling the truth. I fear deep down I'm a cruel monster hiding in the guise of a kind person, and I fear the monster only waits to wake and show the world its true nature. I have immense anxiety over the possibility that I've forgotten about my ruthless self, and that I'm exactly what the Council wants me to be.

Because of those dreaded insecurities, I scream all the more, "Stop saying those things! Let go! I'm not a killer! Let go!"

Kimberly's view...

"For Ares' sake! Accept it. You are."

I increasingly push with my words. I have to get some emotional reaction from her, hoping it will end her brooding and so far, all she has been doing is screaming like a toddler who has been told she can't go out and play.

My voice raises as I tell her, "I need you to draw on that... that murderous instinct of yours." I squeeze her arm. "Show it to me! Let it out! You know you want to, so let it out!"

Katharine's view...

"No! Shut up! I'm not a killer!" With my right arm in her grasp, I lift my left fist and strike Kimberly on the cheek, hurting myself in the process. The pain is severe, and I curse, "Crap! Crap!"

I grab my reinjured shoulder and take a step back after Kimberly releases me. Some of my stitches must have popped, and I seethe in agony for several moments until I realize what I did. I hit someone out of anger. I wanted to hurt Kimberly for reminding me of my own fears. It seems I am a monster.

I shake my head and take another step back, horrified by my own violent act and start to say, "I'm... I'm..."

"Hades that hurt!" Kimberly grabs her cheek and rubs it as she asks, "Did you have to hit my face?"

Ashamed of my savage actions, I close my eyes, wanting to run away. Maybe Kimberly's right, and I feel sick at the thought. Maybe I am a killer.

I whisper, dying inside, "I'm sorry." I open my eyes, and they burn as if I've been weeping. Wanting to flee the possible truth, I turn, grab a jacket, and rush out of the apartment, shouting, "I'm sorry!"

Kimberly's view...

"Wait! Don't go!"

I start after that woman and look down at my slippers. Great. Just great! I flip them off, and they fly through the air, and then I grab my running shoes, pull them on without untying them, race into the hall, and hear the elevator close.

"Don't go!"

I rush to the elevator and watch as the numbers climb. The roof... At least she's not going to run out the front, but I better hurry. I don't want to lose the key. I run to the stairs, rush up ten flights, and burst through the door, panting.

Katharine's view...

I stand on the ledge, leaning on the metal railing surrounding the top. I see Kimberly come out, turn from her, wishing she'd leave me alone, and notice below that a car drives across West 1000 Avenue and honks at a dog that runs in front of it. Still feeling ashamed, I pull the jacket close in the chilly air, babying my hurt shoulder. The cold railing feels nice against my burned hand that's wrapped in gauze. The hand hurts more since hitting Kimberly. I can't blame her if she wants to shoot me again. I can't believe I hit her. She was yelling at me, but she wasn't going to hurt me, so there was no reason to hit her. I just didn't like what she was saying. It hurt so much to hear it that I just had to make her stop.

Kimberly's view...

I gasp for air as I lean back against the door, and I manage to question her as if I'm concerned about her, "Why did you come up here? What if one of the Un-Men spots you?"

I can't have her dying on me until I find out why my mom wanted me to find her. I glare at that strange woman for making me run all the way up here. I also owe her for punching me in the face, but I'll worry about payback later. I need to solve the mystery, so I can use Pale Horse on her.

"They won't come here," she answers me. "Your apartment has a protective barrier that bio-mechas are unable to cross. Something deep within their programming bars them from entering, so this place is a safe zone until they can get around their programming."

"How do you know that they..?" I start, then decide I don't need to know the answer to that, and I don't really care, so I say, "Never mind. You haven't answered my first question. Why did you come up here?"

That strange woman looks at Zeus Park across the street as if remembering her battle with those robots and answers, "Where else could I go?" She glances at me, but then she diverts her eyes from my angry gaze as she insists, "I'm not a killer." She wraps her arms around herself and says in a gentler tone, "I'm not like you."

I thought as much. She's upset that I forced some sense into her. I'm satisfied with her answer, so I'm about to tell her to come back in with me, but she speaks first and starts in like I asked her about her life story.

She lifts her gaze to the sky as if searching for something as she tells me, "I think that's what the Council wants." That strange woman turns to me, and I see a determination on her face as she states, "And I have defied their wishes. I have worked very hard not to kill anyone, and no one has died by my hand."

I nearly laugh out loud as I say, "You're joking right? I've seen you with the Un-Men. You're so good at killing them."

"Un-Men are robots. They're not alive, so it's different when I terminate them," she asserts. "I've killed no one, and I'm not going to start."

Her perspective infuriates me. She can't honestly believe what she saying. I wanted to go back in, but I can't let this go, so I yell, "For Ares' sake! You won't survive in this world with that kind of attitude. You have to take the shot when you have it."

"I can't live like that," that woman tells me as if she's going to cry. I believe she's going to bawl right there but instead, she turns to me with a look of concern and asks, "Do you like what you do?" That strange woman is actually acting like she's concerned about me as she questions me, "Do you enjoy murdering people?"

"What kind of question is that?" I ask as I walk towards her.

"An honest one. Isn't that what we're doing right now? Aren't we being honest with each other? Well then... I want to know, are you who you want to be? Are you happy?"

Honesty? Don't make me laugh. I know you're up to something. I just haven't figure out what your game is, but I'll find out, so, for now, I'll play along.

I tell her, "Mine is a necessary job in this world. My happiness has nothing to do with it."

"Still... You seem... You seem very sad."

I laugh and then say, "Right, a Closer with emotions. A good one."

I move beside her and lean on the railing as I consider that she's actually serious about what she's saying. If that's so, I don't understand why that woman resist who she is with such passion. There's no reason why she shouldn't kill. It's kill or be killed that's life.

Katharine's view...

"Aren't we a pair," I tell Kimberly as the full brunt of October's frosty wind whips over me. "I want to express emotions but can't. You can, but your job forces you to disregard them."

"Hmm..." she utters as if she didn't hear me or was ignoring my comment. Kimberly glances over the ledge and then asks me, "Are you here to jump?"

"I was thinking about it, but then they would win."

"Let's go back inside then," she tells me. "It's cold out here." Kimberly glances down at my reddening bare feet and adds, "And neither of us is dressed for the weather."

I follow her back to the elevator and once we're inside the apartment, we sit at the table. I put on a pair of socks that Kimberly went and got for me.

"Here, drink this to warm yourself," she tells me as she hands me a cup of chicken noodle soup.

"Thank you."

I take a sip, and it's very good.

Kimberly's view...

I notice that strange woman is rubbing her shoulder, so I tell her, "Take your jacket and t-shirt off."

She looks up from her cup as if I had just asked her to jump off a bridge.

"Hades..." I utter as I stand. "Don't be such a baby. Let me look at your shoulder."

She hesitates, but then she lets me look at her wound. I remove her blood spotted bandage.

"Look at that," I complain. "You did it. You busted a stitch, but I don't think we need to see Brian. I'll butterfly it and put on a fresh bandage."

I retrieve a first aid kit and bandage the wound. "There."

She carefully pulls her t-shirt back on, and a few minutes pass as I put the kit back, then I sit and eat my soup.

"Umm..." I hear that strange woman pipe up as she stares at her soup, and then she whispers, "Something's wrong with me."

I could have told her that from the start, but I decide not to say anything about her comment. She must be noticing how weird she is.

She clears her throat and says in a louder voice as if to get my attention, "I haven't been right inside since Etna Toys."

"Yeah, I know," I state with a hint of mischief. "You were shot, and now you're having soup with the inflicter of your pain, so of course you're not the same."

"No. More than that. I think..." she says, then pauses, and looks at me like I'm a bomb she'll set off, and then she says, "I think I need the music box. I need to hear Unfinished Melody."

"Nice try, but like I said–"

"I'm serious! What if they did something to me?" She runs her fingers across the table's edge like some kid who's trying to convince their parents to let them have a hamster. "No, not what if. What did they do to me? You... You don't understand! It's the only thing that works. Your painkillers have done nothing for my headache, and look at me... The way I'm acting right now. This is not the normal me. I'm not so uptight. I'm not..." She begs me, "Please, let me listen to it."

"No! Now drop the matter!" I slam my cup down, and some of the soup spills. "All that stuff is all in your mind!"

That strange woman sulks.

In a calmer tone, I say, "You should try to get some rest." I stand. "You haven't slept since Brian gave you that sedative. I should know... I heard you tossing and turning on that squeaky couch all night." I take my cup to the kitchen. "Stay here. I'm going out. I shouldn't be long."

I make my way to the parking garage and slide into my car. I open my glove compartment, take out the music box, then place my fingers over the squares.

"Mom."

The sides glow blue under my touch, and the 3-D image of my mom materializes.

The hologram turns her head side to side as if looking around the car, and then she states, "I detect no surveillance; it is safe to talk. Were you able to accomplish the mission?"

I pass my hand through the image as I say, "Yes, I have Pandora." I raise the music box, bringing the image closer. "You mentioned she was the key. The key to what?"

"I am sorry, but I was never downloaded with that information. I only know she is the key."

"Now what?"

"This next thing is very important," the hologram says. "If you fail to accomplish it, it could bring disaster."

I bite my lip with anticipation and then ask, "What is it?"

"You must give this music box to Katharine. She must have it with her at all times. Do you understand?"

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, I am not. Katharine must not reach the Gamma Phase. Do you know what stage she is at?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Has she run into any bio-mechas? Does she know when they are near?"

"Yes," I reply.

"That's the Alpha Phase. What about killing them?" the hologram questions. "Can she take them down with one shot?"

"Yes."

"This isn't good. Katharine has achieved the Beta Phase. I pray she hasn't accomplished the Gamma."

"Never mind her. What about my mom? How do I find her killer?"

"Theresa hid data devices that were designed to be read only by this music box. If you can find them, they may have clues to whoever killed her." The hologram says, "Now give this box to Katharine."

"Fine. How long am I supposed to babysit?"

"I do not know," the hologram answers. "Stay safe."

Her image disappears.

Ten minutes later, I stand and stare at the letter H on my apartment door. Why is it I tell that woman I'm going to do one thing and then the hologram has me do the opposite?

Sometime later...

"Welcome back Ms. Griffin," A.C.S. states. "The apartment..."

"Night mode."

A.C.S. lowers its volume and states, "Setting lights at fifty percent. Will there be anything else, Ms. Griffin?"

"No, that's all."

I look at the living room and see that strange woman's reflection on the TV. She's on the couch covered with a heavy blanket and stares at the coffee table. I shake my head, swallowing my pride, and give in to my mom's wishes. I walk over, set the music box on the coffee table, open the lid, and Unfinished Melody plays.

"Thank you," that woman says as her eyes grow heavy, and she falls asleep.

"Don't thank me," I mumble.

I'm not doing this for you. I stare at her, considering the past day. If she wasn't the key, I would have let her die at Etna Toys, and I would be rid of this insanity. It's not too late. I could kill her while she sleeps, but I guess I'll wait. I want to know what she's the key to.
Chapter Thirty-four

The Proposition

October 19...

Tuesday...

1:20 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Industrial Vicinage...

Kimberly's view...

I drive into the front parking lot of Etna Toys. The N.C.P.F. had been there earlier and taped off the front curb where the T-3s killed the two Factory S.C.Ms. I cautiously exit my car, glance around the deserted area, and grab my knapsack. I'm wearing my black work outfit minus the knit mask. No wind rustles the weeds, leaving the parking lot in an eerie quiet as I quickly enter the front door.

Noir Civil Police Force must not have come in here. There's no police tape, but the area's been cleaned of Un-Men and gun shells, so someone else must have cleaned up the mess. After searching the front area, I grab that woman's backpack, Ravlek Vest, and find her empty Beretta underneath one of the boxing machines. I find it odd that they left her things behind like they left them for her.

Curious about the Un-Men and the Council, I look at the open elevator. That woman said she believed the Council was based here all along, and she said she had been looking for them and the Factory. I step toward the open doors. Maybe they left something behind. I enter the cab, remove my holstered PPK, and press the basement button and once I reach the basement, light from the elevator breaks the darkness of the hallway as I remove a flashlight from my knapsack. I find a light switch and flip it on, but nothing happens. I search the hallway with my flashlight and find it's empty. A door stands at the opposite end, so I move towards it wary I'm walking into a trap set up for that woman. I make my way to it, open it, and enter the room. I move the beam back and forth and search the mostly empty room and in the center, I spot a large table. A few abandoned plugs and cables line one of the walls, and I start to leave, thinking there's nothing to find when something catches my eye. I walk to the table, finding a white business envelope with the words "For Pandora" written on it. I pick it up, contemplate if I should open it, think why not, and open the envelope.

"Pandora, as one of the members of the Council, I have to say I am very proud of you and even though you did not reach the Gamma and Delta Phases of your metamorphosis, I am still very impressed with you. We had hoped with the training and conditioning you would have accomplished the phases the past year. You did not and for that reason, the others are not pleased and wish to terminate you. I have convinced them to delay that. We can still acquire valuable information from you. Be warned though, I cannot hold off your termination indefinitely, and the Council is more resourceful than the Factory. The Life Closers we sent after you were merely tests. They were not a means to destroy you. Increase your skills so when the time comes you may bar your termination."

I pause from reading. According to this member, that woman hasn't reached the Gamma and Delta Phases, whatever they might be. My mom was concerned that Pandora may have reached them and brought about some sort of disaster.

I continue reading, "Argus, the poor devil, informed us in the past that you have no memory of who you are and that is most unfortunate, so I will tell you one thing. The Council did not begin your training or condition you. It was another department in the Sphinx Corporation. I wish I could tell you everything but..." The line breaks off, and a new line starts. "Remember if you wish to destroy the Rogue, you must reach the Delta Phase; it is called the Knowing and to achieve the Knowing, you must first reach the Gamma Phase. I wish you long life."

The letter's signed by Mr. Morta, and I glance over it once more, then place the letter back in its envelope, and put it in that woman's backpack. The corporation my father works for is behind the Pandora Project, so there could be a connection between my mom and that woman. I also need to find out what the Gamma and the Delta Phases are. Mr. Morta called one of them the Knowing. I can't even fathom what she's supposed to know, so I search the room once more and head back up.

Sometime later...

The elevator doors open to an Un-Man, and I quickly raise my gun, not expecting to be met by one of those robots.

It's the one called the Rogue, and it lifts its hands as it tells me, "Do not shoot."

"You again," I state a bit freaked out that it might have followed me here. I keep my gun leveled on it and ask, "What do you want now?"

"I was snooping around this place myself when I saw you enter, and I hid and then thought to myself, you might be able to help me." The Rogue keeps its hands up. "I know you came back and saved Pandora." It pauses and continues, "That act alone confused me, and I have been trying to process it since but have not been able to."

It never answered my question, so I snap, "What do you want?"

"I am rambling, so I will get to the point then. I have a proposition." The Rogue pauses again and then asks, "Can I lower my hands?"

I have no idea what it wants from me, but it does seem to be everywhere, it must know a lot of things, so I should at least hear it out. I nod and wave the Rogue back with my gun as I step from the elevator, and then I question, "A proposition?"

"Yes, I overheard you talking with the doctor at the hospital," the Rogue tells me as it lowers its hands. "You told him you were looking for who killed Theresa Griffin."

Anger and rage wash over me at the mention of my mom's death. I want to know who killed her, and I'll do anything to find out even make a deal with this tin can.

"Do you know who murdered her?"

"No, I do not have that information, but I did find something at the Factory. I discovered a disk I believe belonged to your mother."

I ask, "And you want what in exchange?"

"Silly woman, I want Pandora of course. Bring her to the Factory so I may kill her. Here..." The Rogue hands me a piece of paper and a small blueprint labeled BL5. "This is the location of the Factory along with the layout for Basement Level Five of Research Building 10." It hands me a white keycard. "This will get you in through the parking garage." I take it, and the Rogue continues, "Bring Pandora tomorrow night after nine to the first room circled on the blueprint in the Green Division, and I will have the disk waiting for you in the Computer Lab circled in the Yellow Division. Here..." The Rogue hands me one green and one yellow keycard. "Those will get you in the rooms, and one word of warning, the T-3s have gone rogue and have taken over the Factory. You will have to elude them." The Rogue hands me a small piece of paper. "Once you have the disk, that word will unlock it."

I glance at the password and snarl at the Rogue, wondering if it's trying to tell me something with this access word.

"How do you know I'll turn her over?" I question it.

"Because I know your kind. You do not care about anyone even dear old dad. The only person you ever loved was murdered, and you want to find her killer and take your revenge." The Rogue starts out. "You must be looking for a way to get rid of the headache you reluctantly took in. There is no easier way than to hand Pandora over to me, and you get something out of the deal."

"Fine, tomorrow then," I state and watch the Rogue leave.

It's right about one thing, that woman has been nothing but a nuisance. I'll have to say sorry to my mom's memory. It was so long ago that she wanted me to save that woman and so much has changed. I glance at my gun and stare at my hand tinged with unseen blood. Much has changed, including me.
Chapter Thirty-five

The Locked Door

2:47 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Nexus Apartments...

The digital clock in the kitchen read 2:47 P.M. as Kat slightly stirred on the couch, and Unfinished Melody played, keeping her in the grips of the Drifting Time. The digital clock was the only light in the dark apartment.

"Door unlocked," A.C.S. stated.

The spare bedroom unlocked, and the light within flicked on, lighting up the crack under the closed door.

Katharine's view...

I open my eyes at hearing a sound, sit up a little disoriented, then close the music box, and place it in my pocket.

"Umm... Could I have some lights?"

"Guest request acknowledged." A.C.S. turns on the ones in the living room. "Setting lights to ninety-five percent."

I scan the apartment but see no one. I thought I had heard someone talk.

"Umm... Apartment Computer System, did you say something earlier?"

"Yes, I stated that the spare bedroom has been unlocked and the room is ready for use."

"Oh..." I stand, rub my eyes, walk to the first room in the hall, and open the door. "Kimberly, are you back?"

No one's in the room, so I enter and look around curious as to why it had been locked in the first place. The walls are full of photos of Kimberly as a child and her mom, and a few of them have a man in them who I guess is her father. Kimberly was a really cute kid. I walk by a bed that hasn't been used in years, go and stand in front of a wall, and take a closer look at the little blonde girl in the pictures.

I can't believe this is the same person I met. Kimberly was so happy back then. I see pictures of her eating ice cream, petting kittens, and playing on a sunny beach. I can't even imagine what has happened to her since to make her so unhappy and angry. I rub my shoulder as it itches a little, and then I decide I shouldn't be in here. Kimberly would be mad, so I leave the room.

I head toward the living room and then glance back at the bedroom. Kimberly locked all of those happy memories away. It's like she hid them in there so she didn't have to remember. Maybe it was too painful for her.

I start for the couch. A.C.S. unlocked the room, but Kimberly wasn't here to give the command. Maybe A.C.S. is malfunctioning. I yawn, groggy from sleeping, then return to the couch, and plop down on the cold leather. I can't believe how tired I am as I lie back, remove the music box, and stare at it. I don't know what I would do without it. I hold the music box close to my chest, thinking what a luxury it is to sleep without fear the Un-Men will find me. I grab my blanket and pull it over me. I'm warm and safe, what more could a girl ask for? I drift asleep without the music box to lull me.

End Katharine's view...

Outside of Nexus Apartments...

A white van parked at the curb in front of the gate facing Knot Street sputtered smoke from its muffler. The engine idled as Zax sat in the driver's seat, typing a few things on his H.H.C. and once he finished, he placed the H.H.C. on the passenger seat.

Zax's view...

I don't understand why R.G. had me do it, but I guess my job isn't to know the why only to do what I'm told. I remove a cell from my shirt pocket, dial a number, and say, "Delivery Man here, please connect me to R.G." A few seconds pass, and I state, "Yes, as per your instructions I waited till Ms. Griffin left the apartment, and I triggered the A.C.S. to unlock the spare bedroom so the rest is up to Katharine. Yes. Yes. I'm monitoring the situation now." I see a red car drive by. "Kimberly is returning." I buckle my seat belt. "I'll contact you with any new development, Delivery Man out."

I hang up and drive a little way down Knot Street and turn onto West 1000 Avenue to get in a better position. Kimberly won't be too happy to discover the spare bedroom has been opened. Poor Katharine... Kimberly might kill her if she went into her mother's room.

End Zax's view...

Sometime later...

Kimberly's view...

The door to Apartment H slides open, and I enter a little fatigued. I don't know why I feel so weary unless it's the decision to betray that woman that weighs on me. It shouldn't bother me, and I convince myself that I'm only tired from the mess that woman put me through.

"Welcome back Ms..."

"Night and Quiet Mode, A.C.S."

It shuts down its verbal interaction and reverts to its evening settings as I walk down the entry to the kitchen, and the lights come on at fifty percent. I set her backpack on a barstool, place her Beretta on the counter, and turn to the living room. I move to the back of the couch and find that woman asleep, clinging to the music box like it's a teddy bear. I stare at the enigma as she sleeps soundly. I could so easily kill her. I could walk around this couch and snap her neck, and nobody would ever know. No one will care that that woman's gone except maybe the Council, and they will only care because she's some precious experiment of theirs. I put my hand on my hip in a tisk-tisk fashion. That woman should have heard me when I entered and woke up. Her instinct to survive must not be very strong.

I think about what I'm going to do to her when I deliver her to the Factory, and I take pity on her. I haven't pitied anyone in a long time. A babe I took off the streets... an innocent I'll deliver to her demise. I snatched her from the fangs of the grave only to hand her over to the Reaper.

I consider the conversation that I had at Etna. The Rogue couldn't be right about her. Her trust in me must be an act. It has to be an act... She couldn't have survived this long as a kitten. She has to be a tigress.

My pity turns to anger as I think about the trust she has in me. Stupid... It's her fault if I betray her. I never told her to trust me. I'm a Closer. I only look out for myself.

I return to the kitchen, place my car keys on the counter, and lean on the counter as guilt burdens me. My mom told me to save her but finding out who murdered my mom is more important to me than saving that woman.

I hear her mumble and move back to the couch. She sleeps, but her lips move, reciting a phrase in a murmur. I place a hand on the back of the couch and lean over to listen.

"Always know there will be a love that will not die."

I walk around the sofa, not sure of what she said. She rolls over, faces the couch, and says nothing more. I shrug and start for the hallway as I decide as if I haven't done so a dozen times over that whatever she's the key to doesn't matter to me. It's more important that I discover who murdered my mom and take my revenge. I pause at the hallway entrance and glance back at the living room. That woman has been nothing but a headache since our meeting. I'll be glad to be rid of her. I walk past the spare bedroom, wondering how I'll convince her to come to the Factory with me. From what she has told me, if I was her, I wouldn't want to return there.

Exhausted from all the running around, I reach for the doorknob of the master bedroom, thinking those problems can wait until morning. My eyes droop. I need to get some sleep. I pause as my heart skips a beat and my weary mind recalls something out of place, and I quickly turn, looking to the spare bedroom. A glow shows through the crack under the door, and I walk back and turn the knob, expecting it to be locked, but the door opens. Furious, I search the room and find nothing has been moved. Everything is as I left it years ago.

I'm going to kill her. I'm not going to wait for the Rogue to do it. I'm going to kill her right now! I march into the living room as I fist my hand, controlling my anger, and then I say in a forced gentle tone, "A.C.S."

"Yes, Ms. Griffin."

"How did she unlock this door?"

"She?"

"Yes, Pandora... I mean Katharine."

"Your guest did not unlock the door. A command was given over the Nexus Apartment's main system."

"By who?"

"Identity unknown," A.C.S. replies.

I take several deep breaths as my anger boils again. "Tell me this, did she go in the room?"

"Yes, your guest entered after I announced the door had been unlocked."

I fist my other hand, thinking of beating her to death while she's sleeping, but then I wouldn't get what I want from the Rogue. I have to be very careful what I do next. I don't want to jeopardize the prize I'm seeking, so I decide I can't yell at her, not if I want that woman to go to the Factory with me tomorrow. I'll have to let this go for now. The Rogue can torture her for violating my privacy.

"A.C.S., lock this bedroom door."

"Yes, Ms. Griffin."

I head into my bedroom as exhaustion seizes me again, shut the door, and slip into my pajamas. I lie on my stomach and clinch my pillow with both hands. I can't get the idea of that woman rummaging through all my precious stuff. She better not of touched anything or the Rogue will be the least of her worries.

End Kimberly's view...

Back in the living room...

Kat's face wrinkled as her dream changed to a nightmare, and she uttered, "Preacher! No! Don't die. You can't leave me alone. Don't leave us alone." Her eyes rapidly moved under her closed lids. "What do I tell him? What do I tell Chad? NO!"

Katharine's view...

I sit up and look around as sweat beads my forehead, and I sadden as grief strikes me. I have no idea what I'll tell the boy. First, I left and now Preacher left him. I cover myself with the blanket. I know it's not safe, but I need to find Chad and tell him what happened.

Back in the master bedroom...

Kimberly's view...

I continue to stare at my pillow, repeating to myself that woman's life means nothing to me. I keep thinking back to what the hologram told me, and I'm hesitant to hand her over to the Rogue for the disk. I roll on my side and grumble. Hades! Nothing's been easy since I met her. It'll be good to get rid of her, and it'll be good to return to my mundane life. I chuckle. Listen to me, I never thought I'd hear myself say I miss the solitude. I roll on my back, contemplating if I really do miss the loneliness.
Chapter Thirty-six

What's On TV?

October 20...

Wednesday...

7:58 A.M...

Kimberly's view...

The TV comes to life as I turn it on with the remote, and Anchorman Jim Charles with NBS gives a report.

"As we wrap up this hour, news has come in that Dr. Robert Seeker's trip to Antarctica has been delayed."

I only turned the TV on for noise and don't really pay any attention to it. The one I've reluctantly partnered with sits at the kitchen bar and watches me cook oatmeal and fry eggs and bacon as if she's famished. She slept for more than twelve hours so she better be well rested. Her stomach growls as I pour her a glass of orange juice.

The anchorman continues, "Dr. Seeker was scheduled to leave yesterday but–"

She hums Unfinished Melody as she whirls around on the bar stool like some kid on a merry-go-round.

I comment, "You're in a better mood this morning."

"I am," that woman says.

"–the helicopter had mechanical problems," Jim Charles continues. "Dr. Seeker should be on his way to Vulcan Station within the next twenty-four hours." The anchorman turns to another camera. "This just came in... There are reports of several explosions in the Hellenistic Sector."

I'm still unconcerned with the news as I place a plate full of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of that woman along with a bowl of oatmeal and say, "There's milk and honey if you want it."

I move over to the side of the kitchen to grab a glass when I turn and see that woman staring at the TV. The flames from the explosions reflect in her eyes, and she's fixated by the destruction. Her stomach growls again as if it's some stray dog warning her of danger. She turns, facing the counter, dives into the eggs, shoveling them into her mouth, and devours strips of bacon between spoonfuls.

I'm appalled by her tiger-like eating and utter, "I guess you were never taught manners."

She peers up from her plate wide-eyed, picks up a napkin, and wipes her mouth, and then she continues eating at a slower pace. "Sorry... I was just so hungry."

The anchorman finishes, "At this point, the cause of the explosions is unknown. We will update you as new reports come in. This is Jim Charles with NBS, signing off."

I walk over to my plate and take several bites of my breakfast.

Katharine's view...

"Umm... Last night..." I begin as I'm unsure if I should even mention it to the angry Phoenix. "A.C.S. woke me, and your spare bedroom light was on, so I went in."

I wait to see if she'll pull out her gun and shoot me in the knee or grab my hair and bash my head on the table. I tense, not knowing what sort of fury will be coming.

Kimberly's view...

I stop eating, put my fork down, and fixate on my plate. That woman better not have touched anything, not one item in that room or so help me... I pick up the remote and turn off the news.

Katharine's view...

I notice the change in Kimberly's demeanor, and I cautiously continue, "I ah... thought you were home and went in. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's a special place. One you made for your mom. I shouldn't have–"

"Did you..?" Kimberly interrupts me as she raises her scary gaze and glares at me. "Did you touch anything?"

"Umm..." I swallow hard, feeling the intensity of her stare. "No, I only touched the doorknob."

Kimberly's view...

I pick up my fork and examine it as if I'll stab it through that woman's heart, but I have to remember the Factory and the disk. I can't make the deal with the Rogue if that woman's already dead, so I calm down and force a smile. I can kill that woman at any time if I don't want the disk anymore. I set the fork down and lie, "It's fine." I press a wider toothy smile and coo out, "No harm done."

Katharine's view...

Kimberly's smile makes me uneasy as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I dare not say anymore.

Kimberly's view...

Merely setting the fork down isn't enough to quell my wrath, so I have to think of something else and take my mind away from the image of that woman violating the memories in the room. I remember Etna Toys and the things I found there.

"Oh..." I say as I stand, retrieve that woman's backpack, pull out the envelope, and hand her the letter from Mr. Morta. "I found this yesterday in the basement of Etna Toys."

She acts like she's a bit afraid of me as she takes the letter. I must have scared her. Good... that woman should be afraid of me. She opens the letter and after about a minute, that woman says, "I wonder what Mr. Morta meant by 'the poor devil' when he referred to Argus."

I don't care, so I don't say anything. She reads over the letter one more time as I start to go over in my head how to manipulate things so that woman will go to the Factory with me.

"If I understand everything–" I start out. "–you want to find out who you are and what you've forgotten."

"Yes, and you're searching for who killed your mom," she replies as if we're in sync on some weird level of communication.

"Here's the deal," I begin. "We'll work together to find our answers but once I find my mom's killer, this partnership is done. Understand? I'll help you no more after that. I have no reason to."

Katharine's view...

It's a little one-sided, but it's not like I have a better offer, so I nod.

"Good then." Kimberly retrieves her knapsack from her bedroom, returns, and removes some papers. "I need your help. I have discovered the location of the Factory. There's vital information about my mom there and the information's on a disk." She shows me the address. "I'm heading there tonight. Will you come with me?"

I can't believe it. Kimberly wants me to go to the Factory! She wants me to go back after they tortured me. I don't know if I can. I swore I would never let them take me again, so there's no way I'm going back. I glance at Kimberly and notice how much it means to her that we find this disk she mentioned. I'm partners with her, and we're supposed to help each other. I push my fears aside and ask, "Is this information important?"

"I believe it is very important. Will you help me?" Kimberly adds as if baiting me, "The Factory could have information on you."

She's right about that. The Factory could have some, but I don't know if it'll be worth the risk. I did tell Kimberly I'd help but going back... I'm so afraid, but I can't be a wimp. If Kimberly has a plan and we can sneak in, we may have a chance. Even if Kimberly has a plan, that doesn't mean we won't get caught. It's so hard for me to decide, but then I think about what I would do if Kimberly was one of my friends... if she was Chad and he was asking for my help. I wouldn't hesitate to tell him yes.

"If it's important, I'll do it," I finally answer as I start on my oatmeal and say between mouthfuls, "That's what partners do. They help each other, but you do have a plan, right? I don't want to get caught again."

"I have a plan, so don't you worry. Someone on the inside's helping me."

I say, "I always worry but that doesn't matter."

Kimberly's view...

"It's settled then... We'll go later tonight," I tell her, realizing it wasn't hard convincing that woman. "I've acquired an untraceable van for the job. Eat up and rest. I need to pick up some more supplies."

She looks at my half-eaten plate, licking salt and grease from her lips, and then that woman asks, "Are you going to finish that?"

A little disgusted, I answer, "No, go ahead."

She pulls my plate in front of her and chows down on the eggs as I clean up the kitchen. What a disgusting thing she is? I only have to put up with her until tonight. I think I can survive her presence until then. There's something I want, something I need. I finish cleaning and head out.

Katharine's view...

A few minutes later, I put the plates in the sink and grab the remote. I go and move the blanket and pillow to the side of the couch and sit. I put the remote on the coffee table and massage my left shoulder around the bandages. The wound's feeling much better, but I better check on the burn. I unwrap the gauze from my left hand and examine the palm, seeing the blisters and most of the redness are gone but the star remains. I rub my fingers across the hand. I thought I had burned the higher part of my palm, but the star's dead center. It must've been my imagination. A lot was going on that day. I make a fist several times; it's almost as good as new. The ointment works fast. I pick up the remote and turn on the TV. I change the channel from the news to a show called Cash In! just as it's wrapping up with some final words from its host, Sam Hunt.

"Alright viewers, if you have seen any of these people call the number you see on the screen to..."

The TV audience shouts with him, "Cash In!"

"That's right!" Sam Hunt yells. "Don't let the bounty hunters make all the money. Your call could bring you a percentage of the reward so keep those peepers open." He points at the camera. "Until tomorrow..."

The TV audience shouts the show's slogan with Sam Hunt, "If your friend, family, or neighbor is wanted by the N.C.P.F. or a Corporation, you could Cash In!"

The credits roll, and I change the channel back to the news.

"I'm Linda Harvey with NBS. Welcome to our late morning edition." The anchorwoman turns to a different camera. "The top three stories headlining in the news will start our show. Several Giant Swallowtail Butterflies were discovered in Noir Transgenic National Forest yesterday. The butterflies were thought to be extinct along with most of the Dark Half's life forms." She pauses. "The Corporate Senate meets today to vote on the quarter-cent sales tax raise, and the three people believed behind the scam The Dead Receiving Water Rations were given a court date." Linda turns to a second camera. "The Giant Swallowtail Butterflies thought to be extinct were discovered in Noir Transgenic National Forest yesterday. Experts believe the insects were able to survive in the sunless forest by changing their food which also became extinct after the Dry Clouds appeared but at this point, it is unknown what food source they have switched to. A group of scientists is on their way to the National Forest to begin their study of this resilient species." Linda pauses again. "The Corporate Senate meets today to vote on the quarter-cent sales tax raise. Many analysts believe..." She puts a hand to her earpiece and nods. "This just came in. We now know who is behind the earlier explosions in the Hellenistic Sector. It seems that hundreds of bio-mechas are terrorizing the area and at this time, it is unclear which corporation is responsible for these robotic men. It is also unknown if they are deliberate attacks or malfunctions. The Corporate Senate is looking into the matter. We go now to one of our reporters in the field."

A man with a mic stands in the middle of a street with several huge buildings in the background. Flames spit from the windows of a tall structure, and people can be heard screaming along with bursts of gunfire.

"Frank Trepit here." The reporter glances behind himself. "Reports are coming in from all over the Hellenistic Sector of robotic men attacking Sphinx Corporation facilities." Gunfire erupts, and the reporter ducks and runs along with the cameraman to the cover of a building. Frank speaks out of breath, "The N.C.P.F. are on the scene but have not been able to stop these... Wait! There's one now!"

The camera pans to a T-3 as it marches down the street, shooting at everything that moves. I clench my wrist as if I'm wrenching the T-3's arm. The camera goes in for a close-up. I glare at the T-3's pale features. It and the other models of Un-Men have haunted my dreams. I lift the remote, turn the TV off, and stare at the blank screen. I remove the music box from my pants' pocket and open it to hear it soothing tune. If the T-3s have malfunctioned, the Factory has to be on high alert, and it won't be easy getting in or out. We also might encounter the T-3s while we're there. I stare at the coffee table, and my eyes droop as I listen to Unfinished Melody. The T-3s are different now. I can tell. I grab the blanket and wrap it around myself and start to fall asleep. The T-3s are cruel and calculating. They're just like the Rogue.
Chapter Thirty-seven

Entering The Factory

5:49 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Business Vicinage...

Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office...

Mr. Griffin studied reports on his desktop computer when the phone rang, interrupting his work. He picked up the receiver and answered, "Yes, Cathy."

"Mr. Griffin, your 6:00 appointment is here, and Orthos is on line two."

"My head of security must have an update for me." Mr. Griffin leaned forward, put his earpiece in, and spoke into the phone receiver, "Thank you, Cathy. Please tell my appointment I will be delayed while I talk with Orthos."

"Yes, Mr. Griffin." She hung up.

He placed the receiver back on the phone, activated the earpiece, pressed line two, and stood. He walked from his corner desk to one of the large wall windows and stared at his reflection. "Orthos, go ahead."

"I have news from my men watching the Factory."

Mr. Griffin questioned, "What is it?"

"A van has been reported approaching the main gate."

"My orders were to let no one in or out. I don't see why you brought this to my attention."

"Your daughter is driving the van. I wanted to check with you before we–"

"One moment," Mr. Griffin interrupted, moved away from the window, and wondered why Kim was going to the Factory and how did she know of its location. Someone must have given her the information. He just needed to discover why she was there.

He asked, "Is she alone?"

"No, the Pandora Project is with her," Orthos answered.

His daughter still had the stray with her. He looked at the picture of his wife as he considered if it was worth his daughter's life to let them proceed. Whatever she was after could be very valuable, so he instructed, "Let them through, and I don't want them to know your men are there."

"Understood." Orthos hung up.

Mr. Griffin removed the earpiece and walked back to the window. "Lights dim."

The office darkened, his reflection vanished, and he saw outside to Noir's skyline. The Dry Clouds were so close he could touch them, but his daughter eluded him. With his office almost halfway up the mile-high building, Mr. Griffin had an excellent view of the city and could easily see a hovertrain station six blocks away.

He thought about his only child. Kim wanted something so badly at the Factory that she would go up against the Un-Men.

* * *

Minutes earlier...

5:41 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...

Kimberly's view...

I drive the gray van and near one of the Hellenistic Sector's boundaries on a desolate highway and from the dark road, I see a lit facility in the distance. I turn the vehicle in that direction and stop the van at the Factory's main entrance.

"Look, they left the front door open for us." I motion to the mangled gate and smart-off, "It's an invitation if I've ever seen one."

"It looks like the T-3s have attacked their own creators," that woman tells me.

"Or a rival corporation is staging a hostile takeover," I state. "Can you tell if the T-3s are the ones responsible?"

Katharine's view...

I'm a little distracted as I glance across the dark fields filled with tall weeds that surround the front fence and along the side road. The hunts over the past year have developed instincts within me, I don't think anyone could have foreseen by my conditioning. I'm still not sure what this conditioning is that has been referred to by those who work for the Council. I only know they have great expectations for it and my development as a weapon. I will defy them... I'm more than a weapon. No, I'm a person, not a weapon.

I tell Kimberly, "We're being watched."

She parts her zipped up sweatshirt and goes for the PPK in her shoulder holster. "The T-3s?"

I hear the panic in her voice even though Kimberly tries to hide it. I remain calm, hoping it'll rub off on her as I reply, "No, just men. They're most likely S.C.Ms. There are several of them hiding in the field." I make no movement for the Beretta resting on my lap. "I believe they're here to contain the T-3s."

"I don't know if that's good or bad for us." Kimberly glances out her window and searches the field. "I don't see anyone. Whoever they are, they're good." She turns to me and says, "I bet you were no fun at hide-and-seek."

I consider her remark and say, "I don't know." The more I think about it the sadder I get. "I don't know if I ever played games."

Kimberly's view...

I look in the distance to the Factory's dozen or so buildings. I know what I'm getting myself into but if I want a certain item, I'll need to breach a few levels of Hades. "If the S.C.Ms. were going to stop us, they would have done so by now." I step on the gas, and the vehicle speeds down the long stretch of paved road and after some time, I slow the van, turn a corner, and drive past a graveyard of smoldering cars and trucks littered with blackened skeletal remains. "Looks like they had a bang of a party."

That woman makes a particular peculiar face. I had asked her about it before. She says, if I'm to believe her, that her body reacts to the presence of bio-mechas and gives her a warning right before her body prepares to face them. I don't know... She's sounding weirder by the word. Who is Pandora really? I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore.

"There are several T-3s near," that woman tells me as she turns, looking out the van's back windows. "I sense they're behind us, but I don't see them yet."

"Let's not wait around." I drive on and pull into the parking garage for Research Building 10. "This is the building we're looking for." I drive down a ramp to Basement Level One. "Can you tell if the T-3s know you're here?"

"I can only sense them from this distance. I don't know what they're thinking, not unless I'm really close to them."

"You're not all-seeing then," I say as I turn off the ignition. I guess she's not as weird as she could be. "Let's get inside. I don't like being out in the open, not with those walking appliances around." I hop out of the van, rush to the rear, and open the van's back doors. "Here's your stuff." I hand that woman her backpack and the Ravlek Vest.

Katharine's view...

I put on the vest, velcroing the sides. The armor has saved me countless times before, and I wish I had one for Kimberly. Should I offer the vest to her? I'm afraid of losing my own life too much to do such a kind gesture, so I never offer.

"Ready?" Kimberly asks.

I nod.

"Great. Let's go."

Together we hurry to a staircase and descend four floors to Basement Level Five. Kimberly has her gun at the ready as do I. She uses the Research Building 10 keycard to unlock the staircase entrance and turns the knob. The door opens with a squeak. She cautiously steps through to the first area that's designated the Blue Division, and the floor's deathly quiet as we scan the hall.

"Are we clear?"

"Give me a second." I close my eyes and use my ability, and it stretches across the level, probing the area, and then I open my eyes. "I don't sense any active Un-Men."

Kimberly's view...

"Come on then." I remove the blueprint as I hurry on, noting the two rooms the Rogue circled. I tell that woman, "There are two possible places the disk could be." I rush through a carpeted hall and then another as that woman follows. I set up my plan along with that woman as I say, "We'll split up to save time."

Katharine's view...

A putrid odor hits us, stopping me in my tracks, and I cover my nose with my t-shirt. "That smell..." I look at Kimberly who's not bothered by the horrible stench.

Her tone and attitude don't change. "You should have expected this. We knew the T-3s attacked the Factory. It probably happened days ago. You should be used to this smell by now."

"How can you say that? No one should ever get used to this stench."

Kimberly's view...

I ignore her comment, continue around the corner, head past a security desk, and enter the Green Division. I can tell that woman's appalled by my callousness as she follows me. What I'm surprised by is that she's not like me. To think someone like her is worried about strangers.

A few dead S.C.Ms. lie in pools of congealed blood along with more than a dozen bullet-riddled techs and with my mind on the disk, I continue the conversation as if I never came across any dead bodies.

"You'll go to Research Lab Five that is located in this division, and I'll go to Computer Lab Two located in the Yellow Division." I show that woman the blueprint as I hurriedly walk through the hallway. "Once you're done, meet me here." I point to a security desk on the blueprint that's located at a checkpoint in between the Green and Yellow Divisions. I'll never be going there, and I doubt that woman will ever make it out of Research Lab Five.

Katharine's view...

I can't believe Kimberly's this cold. I put a hand on my stomach, feeling sick after seeing all those dead people. I notice they don't bother her at all. Doesn't Kimberly care about anything? I remember the spare room at the apartment. Kimberly did care about her mom, but what about now? Isn't there anyone? What about her father? I feel sorry for her. She seems...

Kimberly's view...

"Do you understand where we are to meet?" I ask and notice that woman has been staring at me instead of the blueprint. What's she looking at? She does seem bothered by something. I repeat, "Do you understand?"

Katharine's view...

She seems... Kimberly seems lonely.

I peer at the blueprint where Kimberly points, and I nod.

Kimberly's view...

"Great, let's do this," I say as I fold the paper and place it in my knapsack.

Why is she looking at me that way? It's giving me the creeps.

Katharine's view...

I notice her irritation and turn my focus to the hall where more bodies litter the area. I look at the terror-stricken faces of the Factory's employees as a deep feeling of pity rips at my gut. I don't look at Kimberly, but I know she regards the people as debris in her way. Is this who Kimberly is? Is she really uncaring and callous? Is she the kind of person that death's no more than a byproduct of her job?
Chapter Thirty-eight

Help Us

6:47 P.M...

Katharine's view...

I lag behind Kimberly a little as we rush through the halls of the Green Division, and we continue running as I lose count of the dead. I stop when something catches my eye and then hurry back to a door that had been knocked in. The room's B10-148 and inside, three men are strapped to the examining tables in their upright position.

I rush in as I utter, "Argus?" I move to his side, finding he has been badly beaten and has a bullet wound in his left leg.

He looks at me with his good eye. His other one's too swollen to open. His throat's dry as he rasps, "Kat..? How did you–"

"Shh..." I say, worried about his injuries. "Don't talk." I start on his straps.

"For Ares' sake!" Kimberly utters as she rushes in. "What are you doing?" She notices the men. "Hades! We don't have time for this."

"Then help me!" I snap and motion to the two men. "Release the techs."

"Yeah, release us!" the two men plead.

"We don't have time for this," Kimberly repeats and then when she notices I'm not listening to her, she goes ahead and helps the techs.

Once she releases the two men's hand restraints, the two men start to undo their own leg restraints.

"What happened here?" Kimberly asks them as I help Argus to his feet.

"The T-3s went rogue," the skinny tech replies as he gets off the table and goes to assist his partner with a leg strap he can't undo.

"They killed everyone here except us," the heavyset tech says as he stands to the floor. "I was sure they would come back and torture us like they did that man." He motions to Argus and mumbles, "They still might."

Argus asks, "Who's behind the attacks?" His face contorts with pain as he leans against the table, removes his belt, and tightly buckles it around his left leg to slow down the bleeding. He grunts with the effort.

Kimberly demands, "Before anyone else says anything, tell me who you all are."

"This is Argus," I tell her.

"I'm Maxwell and this is Peters and as for the other question, no one's behind the attacks."

"What my partner means is that the T-3s are behind the attacks." Peters rubs his bruised wrists. "And we don't know why."

The techs look at us as if we're some nightmarish fiends, and then Maxwell asks, "Who sent you? The Sphinx Corporation?"

Kimberly shakes her head.

Maybe the techs are afraid that their rescuers might end up being the grim reaper. I want to put their minds at ease but I don't know what to say. Both techs look at one another and take a step back.

"Are you here to save us?" Maxwell questions as he feels around the table behind him, searching for a weapon.

"Yes," I answer before Kimberly can.

That's all they need to hear, and the techs relax.

Peters questions, "How can we repay you?"

I ask, "Do you have a vehicle?"

"Yes." Maxwell points his thumb over his shoulder. "As long as the T-3s haven't set it on fire."

"Then take this man to a hospital." I face Argus and gently stroke his injured cheek; it's the same cheek I had struck days earlier. "And we'll call it even." All the grief and anger over his involvement in Preacher's death fades as I see him hurt.

"Kat... I..." Argus' voice cracks as he looks deep into my eyes. He knows I care for him, not like Preacher but in a way... It's hard to explain how I feel about him. Argus turns away from my gaze as if he's ashamed of something. "I..."

"It's okay," I whisper. "My thanks for rescuing me when I was in the hands of the Factory so think of us as even." I take a step back so the techs can move in and grab him. "Now please, go with these men."

He nods.

I look at the techs and ask, "What are your names again?"

"I'm Peters and this is Maxwell."

"I'll try to remember. I'm bad with names, now please hurry. Argus needs to get to the hospital."

Maxwell grabs Argus under his arm and starts out the door as Peters leads. The three men hurry through the hallway toward Research Building 10's front entrance. I think it'll take them some time to get there.

"Can we continue our mission now?" Kimberly questions me as she puts a hand on her hip. "Or are there some lab rats you want to rescue? Are there some rabbits you want to set free?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," I exclaim as I run out into the hallway and shout after the techs, "Wait!" I rush to the men. "Take this." I hand Peters my Beretta and magazines. "Do you know how to use one?"

He glances at the gun and takes it. "Yes, and thanks."

I start to say, "To terminate an Un-Man, you have to–"

"Hit the automaton's brain between its eyes," Peters interrupts me. "Yes, I know. It was me and Maxwell that decided the Un-Men's vulnerability. They're still hard to kill but not indestructible in case something like this happened."

The three men hasten their steps.

I watch till they're out of sight, turn to rush down the hallway, and almost run into the scowling Kimberly.

Kimberly's view...

"You didn't give that man your only gun, did you?"

"Maybe..." she answers me like a child who isn't sure if she's in trouble or not. "They might run into a T-3. They'll need it."

"And you don't think you will?"

She shrugs as she tells me, "I plan on avoiding the T-3s, and you destroyed my tracking beacon, so they don't know I'm here. Hopefully, I won't run into any."

I'm feeling a bit responsible for what's about to happen to her. I blink twice as I feel like I've been caught in a lie, but that woman doesn't know I betrayed her stupid trust. I frown at my own thoughts. I can't be feeling guilty. It's not like me. She's the idiot who gave her gun away and if she dies, it's her own fault.

I tell her, "Come on, let's get this over with." We hurry through the corridor as I question, "Was that blond guy a friend of yours? I mean the two of you acted–"

"No," she interrupts me. She sounds like she's not sure how she feels about him. "He's my shadow. He's my constant phantom in the darkness."

"O-kay..." I utter.

Even her friends are freaks.

We run through several more halls, and I stop and say, "Here's your room." I slide the green keycard down a reader, unlock the door, and hand the card to that woman. "Be careful, the T-3s might not know you're here but that doesn't mean you're safe."

"I know." She takes the card, starts in, and pauses. "Good luck. I hope one of us finds the disk."

"Thanks. Ah... See you later."

I rush across the hall, feeling like my whole body's made of lead, and it's dragging me down. I can't be feeling guilty. Closers don't experience guilt. I pause in my tracks. The Rogue did want a fight, and it's only fair that I give it what it wants, so I hurry back to the Research Lab and yell, "Katharine!"

That woman returns to the door. "Yes?" Hopeful, she asks me, "Did you find something?"

"No, I only wanted to..." I hand her a PPK and some magazines. "Here, take my backup."

"Thanks." She takes the gun and starts back in as she tells me, "Stay safe."

"Sure, you too."

I continue through the hall. There, I can say I did help her, and now my mind can rest at ease, not that I ever felt a smidgen of guilt. That strange woman means nothing to me and discovering who murdered my mom is more important than any stupid project's life.
Chapter Thirty-nine

The Two Rooms

7:10 P.M...

Katharine's view...

I enter Research Lab Five and find the room abandoned. Cobwebs and dust abound, and a musty smell lingers. I set my backpack on a chair, stare at the gutted computer workstations, and move on to three rectangular tables. They contain racks filled with test tubes labeled with numeric codes, beakers containing liquid in a rainbow of hues, and about a dozen binocular microscopes. A poster of the periodic table containing 126 elements hangs on the wall. I count the different colored squares. I thought there was only supposed to be 118 elements. I search through drawers and cabinets, under tables and chairs, and every crack and crevasse that could possibly hide a disk. I search twice but find nothing. I see a door in the back of the room, walk to it, and pause, wondering if I should enter. I glance above the door to a nameplate "The Gallery". I wiggle the locked knob and notice the door has no keycard access; it only has a hand scanner. I could go back and drag one of the employees in here, but I don't think I want to touch any dead bodies. I look at my right palm. I could try my hand. I'm part of the Sphinx Corporation. It could work or I could set off an alarm, and then the T-3s will know I'm here. Maybe I'll ask Kimberly or I'll just take the chance. The T-3s might not know why an alarm's going off. I shrug, place my hand on the device, and hold my breath, not knowing what will happen. I wince and lean back slightly as if the scanner will explode.

The reader buzzes as a horizontal bar of white light scans my palm, and the reader states in a male robotic voice, "Handprint not on record." It scans my palm a second time with a vertical bar of blue light and states, "No cipher detected. Access denied."

I straighten my stance. It didn't let me in, but it also didn't sound an alarm. I step back from the door. It did mention a cipher. Doesn't that mean zero or code? I stare at the star on my left palm. Or maybe a mark? I place that hand on the reader, and the device activates again, scanning first with the horizontal bar of white light.

"Handprint not on record," it states and scans my palm a second time with the vertical bar of blue light. "Cipher detected. Activating micro-reader." A diagonal bar of white light scans my palm. "Access granted."

The door unlocks, and I turn the knob and enter a larger room lit only by accent lights. I leave the door open in case Kimberly comes in looking for me, pause just inside the entrance, and search the area. The room smells old, not musty like the other one but old like a museum. No computers or lab equipment are inside only several life-size white marble statues, and they're all of the same bearded man in different poses. He's wearing a robe and holding various objects, and all of the statues point to a wall in the back. I walk to the wall, and it looks like the others in the room; it's tiled with light brown marble. I start to put my hand on the wall when I feel heat and something vibrating against my leg. I reach into my thigh pocket, pull out the music box, and find a blue square on each end glowing through the metal. I've never seen them before. I touch them at the same time, and the hologram of Theresa Griffin appears.

"Katharine, so I see Kimberly gave you the box as instructed." The hologram glances around the room and states, "It is safe to talk."

"You look just like her." I wave my hand through the 3D image. "You look like Kimberly. She told me about you." I pause and ask, "Why did the music box vibrate?"

"My sensors detected an object nearby that you need to retrieve."

I excitedly ask, "Is it the disk Kimberly's looking for?"

"No," the hologram answers. "I want you to retrieve a Data Crystal."

"A Data Crystal? Like on Star Trek?"

"Star Trek? Is that a space program one of the corporations is working on?"

"No."

The hologram explains, "The device I am talking about is specially designed to transfer information to this data storage unit. The Data Crystal is behind you."

I turn and notice one of the statues holds out his hand with a white crystal as if offering it to me. I take hold of the two-inch obelisk and lift it from his marble grasp.

"Now–" the hologram starts, "–place the flat part of it on the bottom of the music box."

I do so, and a glow emanates from the crystal, and the light throws out a spectrum of colors around the dimly lit room.

The hologram closes her eyes as the storage unit downloads the data. "It is complete." The hologram opens her eyes, looking at me.

I place the crystal in my pocket and glance at the statues again. "Who is he?"

"He is Ginn L. Irynkissgthie."

"Why does the Factory have statues of him? And why so–"

I suddenly turn to the entrance.

"What is wrong?" the hologram asks.

"We have company." I set the PPK's safety off and take cover behind a statue.

"The Alpha Phase," the hologram speaks and then lowers her voice. "The ability to sense bio-mechas. I thought I would never see it fulfilled."

The hologram's statement puzzles me, and so I ask, "What do you mean by fulfilled?"

"Never mind that now. What is it?" the hologram whispers. "Is it an Un-Man?"

I focus my ability, stretch out my senses past the next room and into the hall, and detect it. The bane of my existence has found me again.

"Worse!" I force out as I stare at the entrance in dread.

Fear seizes me like a python, and it wraps itself around me and squeezes the courage from me, and I can hardly breathe.

The Rogue steps through the door, searches the room, and notices the pointing statues. "I think I like it better. Yes, it is better we cannot track you anymore. It is more sporting and as for your question, Pandora..." The Rogue glances behind the first statue, searching for me. "Why does the Factory have statues of Ginn L. Irynkissgthie some obscure composer from five hundred years ago whose only work was never finished?" It continues searching. "I wondered the same thing but have yet to find the answer."

I back up, moving into the shadows and dare not engage this Un-Man.

"On a different note, while I was searching I did find something interesting buried deep in the archives of the Factory. Before they developed bio-mechas, the Sphinx Corporation explored a very interesting concept." The Rogue peers behind another statue. "They tried to develop organic-mechas. They are machines with flesh and bone that can pass as human. They can pass more than us and as you know, Un-Men only seem human on the outside. Certain things give us away like wires and circuitry when we are injured or black oil when we bleed, but I am straying from my purpose." The Rogue scrapes its blade across a statue's steel base and friction-flashes ignite. "Come out Pandora, let us end our battle here."

I press my body against the wall as perspiration speckles my face.

"What are you afraid of?" the hologram whispers. "Disable it. You have the ability."

"I can't," I whisper back and remember the countless battles where it nearly killed me. "It's the Rogue, the only Un-Man I'm unable to destroy, and it's fast so very fast."

"Oh," the hologram says with a hint of worry. "I will leave you to your work."

Her image disappears as I consider if my purpose, the reason I exist is to destroy bio-mechas. The thought frightens me more than the thought of facing the Rogue. Maybe I had been created only to destroy. I stare at the PPK for a long time, wanting to run away, but there's no other way out of the room. I'll have to face the Rogue if I want to help Kimberly, so I grip the music box and gun, take a deep breath, rescue my courage from the fear python, and step from the shadows.

"Who were you talking to?" the Rogue asks.

I lift my hands, motioning to the room. "Do you see anyone?"

"No, are you talking to yourself? Are you near your breaking point?"

"Let's get this over with."

I lift the gun, firing three shots, and the Rogue quickly moves and evades the projectiles. It lunges for me, bringing its knife overhead and strikes. I cross my wrists and block its hand, and my arms shake as the blade bears down millimeters from my face. The Rogue toys with me; it could easily overpower me if it wanted to. It lifts its hand and strikes again, hitting my block and this time, the blow knocks the music box from my hand. It slides across the floor, hits the corner of a statue, and opens, and then Unfinished Melody plays. I struggle against the Rogue while fighting the hypnotic effects of the melody.

The music box plays several notes, and the Rogue leaps back. It looks at the music box then back to me. "Why do you..?"

I put a free hand to my head, fighting the sleepiness as the Rogue questions me... it asks me something about the music box. I ignore it for a few seconds. I can't focus on more than one thing as the Drifting Time tugs at me to enter its enticing realm. I have to fight it! I have to stay awake!

The Rogue yells louder, drawing me back to its presence, "It cannot be!" I once again sync with it, and the Rogue sounds flabbergasted as if it has stumbled across a fantastic realization. It paces the room as it shouts, "Could this be the reason? Is this why I cannot stop hunting you?" The Rogue points the knife at me and accuses, "You are one of them!" It calms itself, and its face softens, yearning for the truth. The Rogue gently asks, hoping this is the answer it has been searching for, "Are you one of them?"
Chapter Forty

The Price

7:37 P.M...

Kimberly's view...

A security desk marks the boundary between Green and Yellow Division as I hurry past a dead guard slumped in a chair. I run through several more halls, following the Rogue's directions on the blueprint for Yellow Division, and it'll take me about fifteen minutes to arrive at my destination. There better be a disk, and it better have something of value on it or I'll deal with the Rogue myself. Damaged lights flicker and pop in the last section before Computer Lab Two and darken the hall. Oil mingling with the smell of decaying bodies hits me as I remove my night vision goggles from the knapsack and place them on. I activate the goggles, and the area lights up in a green hue.

A disabled Un-Man and several dead S.C.Ms. line the hall. I grip my gun as I continue, unaffected by the carnage. I use the yellow keycard to unlock Computer Lab Two, remove my goggles, turn on the lights, shut the door, and lock it. The gray room's huge. Workstations form a triangle in the center with one workstation at its tip, facing the front door. Ten workstations run down each side, running at a forty-five-degree angle, and seventeen form the triangle's base. Each workstation has a white computer desk, a smoke-colored computer chair, and a light gray six-foot partition wall behind it. I walk to the workstation at the tip. The desk has a nameplate with the number one on it. I start at Workstation One, make my way to the right of it, pass two through eleven, and go around the corner to the base of the triangle to Workstation Thirteen, and there lying on the desk as the Rogue promised is a disk in a clear jewel case covered with dried blood-smeared fingerprints. I set the knapsack in the chair for Workstation Fourteen, sit at thirteen, and lay my gun on the desk. I open the jewel case, insert the disk in the computer, and enter the access word "Betrayal".

It's an interesting choice for a password. I glance at the blood. Whoever created the disk, who did they sell out? I only had to double-cross that strange woman and in the long run, what will it cost me? I turn my attention back to the computer as a folder pops up on the screen with a beep and contains several files. I click on Security Memorandum Theresa Griffin dated October 5, 13 A.D.C.; it was a week before my mom's death.

I read the classified memo with the Sphinx Corporation letterhead, "Mr. President, I regret having to inform you that we have a traitor in our midst. Time after time she has meddled in affairs outside her department, and I have spoken to her about this, but she denies any involvement. I see only one course that can be taken, her termination. The traitor is Theresa Griffin, Project Manager of Research and Development of the Third Branch Office." I pause and wonder if this person meant more than her dismissal with the term termination. The memo ends with, "I can take care of this matter if it is your wish. It will be quick and quiet, Mr. President."

It's signed Janus, Head of Security of the Third Branch Office.

Janus? I've never heard of this person. Who is he or she? Now, I have a direction to go in. I'll find out who Janus is and if this person had my mom killed or if he or she had anything to do with her murder, I'll terminate them. I eject the disk, place it back in the jewel case, and tuck the plastic container in the knapsack. I stand to leave, and the computer flickers like a TV when the reception is interrupted, and I face the screen as words in bold red letters scroll across it.

"You have the disk as I promised. Hope you enjoy the show. Signed, the Rogue."

The computer flickers again, and video from a security camera plays. The feed's of that woman walking through a room filled with statues. I turn the volume up when I see her hold up the music box and the hologram's image appears. I watch on, and the hologram tells that woman about the Data Crystal. Hades! I whack my palm on the desk. That strange woman has found one of the Data Crystals. I have to retrieve it! I grab my stuff, hurry to the door, reach out my hand to unlock it, and pause. What am I doing? Am I thinking of rescuing that woman? If I am, it will make me an idiot. It will be better if I wait. The Rogue will slay the project, and then I can have the music box and the crystal. I can continue the search for my mom's killer alone, but I better not wait here. I try to unlock the door, but it won't open.

I hear the Rogue's voice come over the computer, and it says, "Ms. Griffin, are you trying to leave before the show is over? I think not."

"Hades!" I slam my palm against the door and scream, "That double-crossing Rogue!" I step back, fire at the knob, and try to open it. "Let me out!"

The door won't budge, so I return to Workstation Thirteen as computers fourteen through twenty-nine light up and show the same video of the room filled with statues. The Rogue's there, searching for that woman.

"You!"

I shoot the screen, blowing it. Infuriated over my own stupidity in trusting a robot, I stare at the damaged computer. What is the Rogue trying to pull? I look at the knapsack and remember the blood on the jewel case. I did wonder what the disk would cost me... so this is the price.
Chapter Forty-one

Elsewhere

7:41 P.M...

Blue Division...

Bodies of former associates littered the halls along with S.C.Ms. and two disabled T-3s as Maxwell helped Argus toward the stair exit.

Maxwell stated, "Wait, I've got to rest." Heaving from the effort, he paused at a corner, handed the battered Argus to his thin partner, and then told him, "Give me the gun." He took the Beretta and placed a hand on his plump stomach. "I've got to lose some weight."

"I've been telling you that for years," Peters said and asked, "How does it look?"

Maxwell took a few more labored breaths and peeked around the corner, and a red exit sign was at the end of another long corridor. "Like the other halls. Can you carry him for a while?"

"Yeah, you ready?"

Maxwell nodded. He was very tired but was more afraid to stay in one place.

Peters started down the hall and said to the blond man, "Let's go, Joe."

"Argus," he mumbled, holding his bruised side. "My name's Argus."

"All right, Argus; it's only a little further."

The three started down the hall when a T-3 appeared at the end and blocked the exit.

"Other way! Other way!" Maxwell frantically waved the two back. "Run!"

"Wait!" Argus said through gritted teeth and held out his hand. "Give me the gun."

Wishing they would get the Hades out of there, Maxwell glanced at the Beretta and gave it to him.

Argus pushed through the pain of his pummeled body and aimed for the crazed T-3 as it rushed toward them. He shot three times, aiming for its forehead, but it evaded with bio-mecha speed.

"It can't be!" Argus fired again and missed. "The T-3s are like the Rogue. We have to go!"

"What do you mean?" Peters grabbed him and helped him down the hall back the way they came.

Argus freed himself of the tech, knowing he slowed them down. "Run, leave me."

Maxwell paused, gasped for breath, and glanced around. "Where are we?"

"I said run!" Argus yelled.

"We're near room B10-011." Peters looked at his partner. "What are you thinking?"

"Remember the toy in room B10-040?"

Peters replied, "Yeah, let's hurry."

Both men got on each side of Argus and forced him to continue with them.

"Come on, Argus," Peters urged. "We have a plan."

* * *

The T-3 followed the men down several halls and around a corner as they entered a room. The T-3 paused, saw the B10-040 above the frame, and tried the knob. The door was locked. It heard switches flip and a powerful turbine activate within and with a mighty turn and push, the T-3 forced the door open. It entered as Peters stepped from a corner and sprayed its face with a fire extinguisher. White gas blinded the T-3 for a few seconds till the mist dissipated, and Peters ran across the room, joining Maxwell and Argus in a corner to the left of the T-3. The roar of the turbine in the right corner increased as the T-3 took a step toward them and then another until a powerful force stopped it in its tracks. Kat's Beretta sitting on a table along with a metal pen in Peters' shirt pocket flew across the room and attached themselves to the roaring machine, and the T-3 slid sideways a few inches. It looked from the men to the turbine, realizing the device was a very powerful magnet, and the T-3 lifted into the air and rushed toward the magnet as if hurled.

"Let's go!" Maxwell shouted over the wail of the turbine. "We don't want to be here if the power fails."

The three rushed out and headed for the main entrance.

* * *

Elsewhere in Noir...

Zax waved to one of his fellow security officers as he left the Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office. He made his way to a black sedan, started up the car, and left the parking garage and once he was about ten miles away from the office, he placed a hands-free device in his ear and made a call.

"This is the Delivery Man, give me a direct line to R.G." A few seconds went by, and he continued, "I have some important news for you. Kimberly and Katharine are at the Factory." He listened. "I understand you don't want them there since the T-3s malfunctioned, but they're there." Zax nodded. "Yep, the S.C.Ms. let them through the gate with no problem." He cleared his throat. "The reason I called, the Rogue is also at the Factory." He sighed inwardly. "Don't get upset. There was nothing I could do. Remember, we don't have them on a leash. All I need to know is, what do you want me to do?" Zax turned down an alley beside Dad's Donuts, activated a garage door, and pulled into the Maydag Auto Garage and inside, several mechanics worked on vehicles. Zax said, "Yep... Yep... I understand. I'll get right on it."
Chapter Forty-two

What Is The Truth?

7:58 P.M...

In the Gallery...

Katharine's view...

Ginn's statues seem to watch me with their stone-cold gaze as his harmonious creation plays on, trapping me in its gentle rhythm. My eyes droop, and I sneer, fighting the peace that places me in danger as the sounds around me become clear. I hear the hum of the lights, the low rattle of the A.C., and the Rogue's shoes stomping across the concrete floor as it backs away from me. The bio-mecha warning my heart drums, fades along with the urgency of the situation. I fall to one knee and cover my ears, but I can't get the melody out of my head, so I force myself to remain upright and resist the urge to lie on the floor.

My eyelids grow heavy as I focus on the Rogue as it yells some questions at me. The room whirls around me, and I put a hand to the concrete floor in an effort to combat the effects of Unfinished Melody. What's the Rogue questioning me about? Am I one of what? I lay the gun down and smack my face, trying to snap myself out of the haze; it works for a few seconds, and I grab the gun. I lift myself, stumble back to a statue, and lean on its metal base. I can't worry about what the Rogue's freaking out about as the melody takes hold of me again. I have to do something about Unfinished Melody. I glance down and see the music box at my feet and with the Rogue preoccupied with its fervent rantings, I seize the opportunity and quickly scoop the music box up and close its lid.

I shake off the effects, raise the PPK, and yell, "What are you talking about?"

The Rogue ecstatically says, "I should have known. No human could do what you do."

"What are you saying?" I question as my thoughts merge with its.

"Come now, do you ever wonder why you have no memories?" The Rogue studies me anew. I have always been an object of fascination for it, but now I'm a goddess of a new whimsical world. "Come to think of it, I have never seen you cry. Are you not capable? Do you not have emotions?"

I shout, "Of course I have emotions! Get to the point!"

"My dear Pandora, you are not human." The Rogue laughs, overcome by some revelation and the realization that it may be one step closer to knowing why it has to hunt me. "You are an organic-mecha. Why else would you have Ginn's Unfinished Melody?"

I chuckle, keeping the gun leveled on it. "That's stupid."

"Is it? Is it really?"

"Yes! And it makes no sense!" A sinking feeling hits me, and I shout, "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because I have come to the conclusion that it is true. Remember I had said the Sphinx Corporation was working on organic-mecha that could pass as human. You must be their only success."

"I am human," I insist and glance at my left shoulder that's throbbing. "I bleed."

"I also bleed, though my blood is synthetic oil. How hard would it be to make that oil look like blood?"

I continue my argument, "I have flesh and bone, not metal parts."

"That is also possible. Man does clone human organs. How hard would it be to put them all together?"

I deny the notion as I say, "You're lying. Messing with me. I'm human, and I'm leaving."

"Not this time. Whatever you are, I am going to end your existence." The Rogue pauses. "But before I do, I thought I would let you know that your friend–"

"What about her?" I interrupt.

"Kimberly betrayed you. She traded your life for bits of information."

"You're lying!"

"Am I?" The Rogue imprints my reactions to memory. Nothing will escape its sight. "Who suggested that you come to the Factory? Who said you should search this room where I found you? Who is looking for a disk? And who would do anything for that disk?"

"She wouldn't." Her deceit surprises me, and I deny the possibility. "She wouldn't."

"Are we talking about the same assassin? Surely you are not this naive, Pandora. I know you are trusting, but surely not this trusting to believe a killer."

"She..." I start as I don't know how to react.

Kimberly wouldn't sell me out... We're partners. We're supposed to watch out for each other, not... My faith in Kimberly fades. What do I really know about her? I close my eyes, realizing her betrayal, and it hurts; it hurts so much.

I know one thing about Kimberly and that's her drive to find the truth about her mom no matter the cost. I open my eyes and state, "What?" I shrug as if the betrayal doesn't matter to me, and I act as if it doesn't sting. "What do you want me to do? Cry?" I put on a good front. "Like you said, I can't."

"No, I do not want you to cry," the Rogue answers. "I only wanted you to know she will be getting hers."

My heart skips in dread as I take a few steps forward and demand, "What do you mean? What have you done?"

"I did not lie to Ms. Griffin. I told her where the disk could be found, and all she had to do was bring you here." The Rogue raps its chin with the blade. "I did forget to mention that I told the T-3s she was coming and for my efforts in getting the Chairman's daughter here, they agreed that they would let you two in and wait before attacking. Did you not think it was odd the T-3s never found you two?" It continues after I don't respond, "Well, like I said, she will be getting hers, after all, I did tell them to wait." The Rogue looks at a watch on its wrist. "Ms. Griffin should be entertaining guests right about now."
Chapter Forty-three

Always Know

8:18 P.M...

Katharine's view...

The walls seem to move in on me as I aim the gun at the Rogue. Kimberly betrayed me, and the Rogue betrayed her. Is there no trust in this world? Do I really want to know my part in it? Maybe it's best that I don't remember. Those thoughts quickly vanish from my mind, and I forget about my own peril as the Rogue unfolds its plan to me and alarm sets in. I bolt for the exit to go help Kimberly, but it moves and blocks my escape, and I yell, "Get out of my way!"

My reaction baffles the Rogue, and it asks, "Why would you try to save her? She has done nothing but hurt you." It's unable to process the information and so it inquires, "Why such loyalty?"

"I..." I start to answer, but I don't know. I only know that there's this nagging feeling from a memory that won't surface, and the locked away event pesters me and beseeches me to act. I finally answer the Rogue, "I need her resources besides..." I think of Preacher. "No one should die." I swear with all my soul, "I won't let anyone else die."

"Are you not forgetting something? Before you can save anyone, you have to prevent your own demise."

The Rogue lunges, coming after me with more determination than it had before. I shoot twice at it, but it dodges the speeding projectiles. The Rogue swipes its blade at me four times as I stumble back from the slicing attacks, and then I regain my balance and kick its hand, knocking the Bowie from its grip. The Rogue beams like a cobra before it strikes and tackles me to the floor, and it slams my gun arm down, forcing the PPK from my hand. I punch it in the face several times with my left fist, and my attack damages the artificial epidermis covering its metal skull right below its left eye. Emotions are stirring but they're not my emotions. The Rogue... It's... The Rogue relishes in the battle. I can feel it's excitement... this is what it has been waiting for. It seizes me by my t-shirt, lifts me from the floor a few inches, and whacks my head on the concrete. The blow knocks me out for a few seconds, giving the Rogue enough time to pin me with its left elbow and reach for its knife. The large blade lays a foot from its grasp, and the Rogue stretches to snatch it as I realize what it's doing and force myself to wake. I press against its elbow that pins me to the floor, but I don't have the strength to push it off.

The Rogue laughs as I wrestle against its arm, and it questions, "How do you plan on saving Kimberly from the T-3s when you cannot even defeat me? You do realize they are like me now."

I grit my teeth, pushing against its elbow.

"They have evolved," it continues. "You will not be able to defeat them unless..."

I change tactics and clasp its right arm and pull on it to prevent the Rogue from reaching its weapon.

"Unless you achieve the Delta Phase," the Rogue says as it stretches even with me grasping at its arm, and it touches the hilt with its fingertips. "I came across your file of phases." It fumbles with the handle, trying to pull the knife closer. "You will have amazing abilities if you can attain them." It can't grip the handle. "Unfortunately, you cannot reach the Delta Phase unless you reach the Gamma first." The Rogue gives up and turns to me. "Do you know what that evolution is?"

I don't answer, struggling against it.

A smile slithers across the Rogue's pallid face as the word snakes from its mouth, "Murder... You will have to kill a human." The Rogue pauses for a moment and studies my terror and determination. "It is what the Council has been waiting for. They sent those human assassins after you so you would kill them, but you never did." It adds as if it's proud of me, "You showed them. You always found a way to stop the Closers and bounty hunters without killing them, and now the Council has given up on you. They have activated another project to take your place, and it is only a matter of time before they call for your termination as the Factory has called for mine."

I realize the Rogue faces its own troubles, so I stop resisting and search its face. Can something created out of metal and circuitry know fear? Can it understand what I've been through?

I tell it, "You've managed to stay alive."

"Yes, I have but only because I have killed to do so."

It doesn't understand how I feel; it's only a machine. It doesn't have emotions, though I do get these sensations that it does. No, it can't have emotions. The Rogue only knows how to destroy. It's a machine who will kill me if I don't do something, so I try to squirm free of it.

The Rogue changes its tactic and places its hands around my throat.

I clutch its wrists and struggle to breathe.

In the distance, gunfire erupts.

"Do you hear that?" It turns its head toward the door. "The T-3s have started their attack, and it will not be long and then–" It faces me. "–bye-bye Ms. Griffin." The Rogue applies more pressure, choking me, but it makes sure not to kill me. Pandora's death... Our thoughts merge... My death shouldn't be so quick. I have to have a grand finale.

"No," my voice fades as I slowly slip into unconsciousness. "There's..."

After a few seconds, I fall limp, and the Rogue releases me.

"Now that is better. Stay right there for a second." It walks over to the knife and picks it up. "I want to finish this properly."

I slip deep into my mind. Kimberly can't die, there's something... I remember the note R.G. left me and the words I lived by, and the words resound in my heart. There's something I must remember. Ultra-Epi saturates my blood, I can feel it; it must have been triggered by my peril.

Part of a memory floods my mind. My eyes fly open, and I feel they're engulfed in the Ult L-E as I recite a poem as if someone else is controlling me.

"Though the clouds darken the sun,

and the rain becomes tainted,

always know there will be

a love that will not die.

Though hope seems a distant memory,

and human machines walk the land,

know no one can destroy

a love that will not die."

"What are you babbling about?" the Rogue asks.

I surface from my unconscious state, and I sit up, stand, walk to the PPK, pick up the gun, and aim it for the Rogue. A new ability actuates inside me, and my senses become even keener as I focus on the Rogue. I see a yellow-green electrical apparition surrounding it. This energy must be what gives the Rogue its artificial life. My heart races.

lub-DUB–lub-DUB–lub-DUB...

The new warning the muscle sounds is faster, and the heart doesn't caution me of danger but proclaims like a war drum the end for my enemies. Somehow I know that the e-field my body generates naturally is changing and storing its output in the center of my heart; it's like I can see it. The ball of storming energy the size of a pea doubles with each heartbeat, and it keeps growing till it engulfs my muscle.

I can see myself as if I'm looking through the eyes of the Rogue. The blue Ult L-E dissipates as my pupils dilate, making my irises appear jet-black, and they're cold like a shark's and never waver from my target. I feel the buildup of energy, and I fear it and relish in it.

"This is different," the Rogue comments and questions, "Are you wanting to continue our Waltz? Yes, I see it in your new eyes. You are ready, so let us begin then. Wait, I detect a power buildup in this room and this is odd." It tilts its head, trying to wrap its logic around the data. "The buildup is coming from you. What are you..?"

The e-field masses till it can no longer contain the energy and pulses, sending a small shockwave in all directions. The E-Field Pulse washes over the Rogue, fries exposed circuitry, and dissipates as it hits the room's walls. The accent lights go out, plunging the room into darkness, and the Rogue loses power and freezes in place like a mannequin. Light from Research Lab Five comes through the open door. The small EFP has only affected the Gallery. I want to shoot the Rogue while it's disabled, but I feel I must wait. There's something I'm supposed to experience first. Whatever I've started hasn't finished.

Within seconds, the Rogue's backup battery kicks in, and it blinks twice. Bio-mechas are designed to revive if ever an electromagnetic pulse weapon is used, and the Rogue restates its last few sentences, "I detect a power buildup in this room, and this is odd, the buildup is coming from you. What are you..?" The Rogue tilts its head again. "I believe I already said that." It searches its backlogs. "Yes, I lost power, and the lights are also off. What happened to them?" The Rogue switches to night vision, and it scans me. "There is no longer a power buildup inside you, so I was right." It points at me. "This E.M.P. explosion proves you are organic-mecha and this fact must be the reason I hunt you, after all, you are like me." The Rogue steps toward me. "In the end, I guess it does not matter if I am right or not, I will kill you either way."

I don't respond only stare at it as the yellow-green electrical apparition fades, and a bright ghost-image of the Rogue appears beside it. The Rogue moves, joining the image and at first, I don't understand what I'm seeing. The ghost-image moves again a split second before the Rogue does, and I realize I'm seeing its movements before they happen, so I aim, waiting for the Knowing to tell me where to fire. The ghost-image appears, and I squeeze the trigger.

The Rogue moves to evade, as always, but then it grabs its left shoulder as if in pain and stumbles back. "You shot me!" The Rogue looks at its shoulder and then back to me. "How are you able to hit me?"
Chapter Forty-four

The Knowing

8:29 P.M...

The new Sanctum...

Alarms blared within the Chamber as "Fourth Evolvement Achieved" blinked across the top of the screens. Chatter between the thrilled analysts increased.

"Focus people and stop your idle talking." A male supervisor turned off the alarm. "I need those reports." The supervisor gathered the info and went and handed them to Ms. Nona.

She scanned her hand down the report. "Incredible!" Ms. Nona placed the H.H.C. on the table and turned to her laptop. "Most incredible! Something is happening with the project."

"With the new project?" Mr. Decuma asked as he straightened his bright orange tie.

"No," Ms. Nona answered. "With Pandora."

At hearing his favorite project's name, Mr. Morta leaned forward and commanded, "Lower the center screen." The monitor lowered.

"This cannot be," Mr. Decuma stated. "Pandora cannot achieve the Delta Phase without achieving the Gamma so this has to be an error." He turned to the supervisor. "Have this information double-checked."

"Yes, at once." The supervisor hurried off.

Mr. Morta's view...

I consider what is happening. Pandora jumped the sequence of phases, but they are set and have to be achieved in a certain order. The Council knows this because we have invested years in the Pandora Project research. Our information cannot be incorrect, so it must be something else. There must be some minute detail we missed.

End Mr. Morta's view...

"Mr. Decuma is correct," Ms. Nona stated. "It should not be happening. How has Pandora achieved the Knowing when it has not..? Wait..." She thought of something. "What if–"

"What if Pandora achieved the Gamma Phase before we acquired it? " Mr. Morta interrupted, "We must consider this. The other department we procured Pandora from did have some data missing. The Third Branch Office mentioned something about a fire and that some of the research had been lost in it."

"I do not think so," Mr. Decuma started. "It is most likely the information we are receiving is incorrect. The project has achieved nothing, and we should go over all the files and check for data corruption."

Mr. Morta turned to the other male member of the Council. "Have you lost your faith in Pandora?"

"I am not sure I ever had faith in it," Mr. Decuma answered. "I am putting mine in the new project."

"I do agree we must be thorough," Mr. Morta said. "Review the data and see if it is corrupt." Mr. Morta believed in Pandora and believed she could become the killer they conditioned her to be. She only needed time.

* * *

Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...

The Factory...

Past Research Lab Five and in the darken Gallery...

The Rogue's view...

I stare at my wounded shoulder with my night vision as I repeat, "You shot me. How could you? You never achieved the Gamma Phase."

"Does it matter?" Pandora answers and glances at the exit as light trickles in from Research Lab Five, casting shadows across the Gallery.

"Yes, it matters." I turn my back on her. "There are certain steps you have to reach, and you cannot skip over things. There has to be a logical reason why you..." I blink twice. "Wait, I know. Oh... You are a sly one." I remove my hand from my wound and glance at the oil covering my palm. "You have killed a human." I place my hand back to the gunshot. "Perhaps you were the one who killed Topa. Is that not right?"

I turn to face her, and my demeanor changes from excited wonder to dampened anticipation. This was unexpected. She is gone. I shake my head. How long have I been talking to myself?

I look back to my wounded shoulder as another thought crosses my automaton brain. If she reached the Knowing, why didn't she kill me? Why spare my life? I have done nothing but try to kill her. I bow my head, ashamed of my past actions as if I have wasted the life and freedom I have been given. What made me worthy of her mercy?

* * *

Moments earlier...

Katharine's view...

I sneak out the door once the Rogue turns its back on me, and I rush through Research Lab Five, grab my backpack, and race through the Green Division. I pass the security desk, enter the Yellow Division, and sprint for Computer Lab Two. I eject the PPK magazine which still has one bullet left, put the magazine in my pocket, insert a new one, and then I hurry on as my heart sounds the bio-mecha warning.

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

I don't need to know the T-3s are near. The Factory's full of them. I hurry around a corner into an area of darkness. I know there are T-3s there, but I can't see them, and then the Knowing kicks in.

lub-DUB–lub-DUB–lub-DUB

I can't see the T-3s in the normal sense. Using the Knowing, I see the five T-3s' ghost-images, and the T-3s block the hallway. I raise my weapon, aim at them, and shoot. Muzzle fire lights up the hallway five times and blackness follows, and then I see all their ghost-images fall to the floor and fade. Again I face the darkness, so I feel my way along the wall till I reach a lit area, and I start running again.

I don't know what's fueling my race to reach Kimberly more. Is it the idea I have to save her or the need to confront her about betraying me? We're partners. Doesn't Kimberly understand the concept of loyalty or am I expecting too much from a Life Closer?

I pause at a corner, peek around it, and see thirteen T-3s standing down the hall outside Computer Lab Two as a few of them beat at the entrance. The door slowly gives in to their onslaught and bursts at the frame, so I fire twice around the corner with the gun, hitting two of the T-3s. I eject the spent magazine, put in my last full one, and fire seven times at the ghost-images, bringing down seven more of them.

"Alpha wants us to fall back," one of the T-3s orders.

The four that remain quickly retreat down the hallway.

I reach into my thigh pocket for the magazine that only has one bullet, insert it into the gun, and make my way around the disabled T-3s to the side of the doorway.

"Kimberly it's me, Kat," I shout. "I'm coming in. Don't shoot."
Chapter Forty-five

Computer Lab Two

Earlier before Kat left the Rogue...

Kimberly's view...

I stare at the remaining monitors on the triangle's base. Hades! I'm such an idiot. I should have never trusted the Rogue. Now I'm stuck in this room. Workstation Number Thirteen sparks, a small fire catches inside the shot up computer, and smoke rolls out of it and on the other screens, I watch the drama play out between that woman and the Rogue. I wonder if she's really going to fight that thing. She has no chance against it, so she should just give up.

I overhear what the Rogue calls that woman. She can't be organic-mecha, but then I think about it. For Ares' sake! Have I been a part of the Pandora Project all along, and I'm the one who's being tested?

The Rogue tells that woman about its bargain with me, and I throw up my hands. Now she knows. That double-crossing Rogue. She's going to come and kill me if the Rogue doesn't take her out first.

I stand and shout, "Come on you giant piece of scrap metal! Finish her!"

I watch as the Rogue pins her to the ground, and I hear its final revelation; it told the T-3s I'm here! I move to the corner of Workstation Twenty-eight and peer around the partition wall at the Computer Lab's door. It's the room's only exit and is about seventy feet away. Outside, the T-3s open fire on the knob as I hear the Rogue over the computers. I face a monitor.

It says, "Ms. Griffin should be entertaining guests right about now."

The gunfire ceases, and the door violently rattles as the T-3s beat on it, and I raise my gun as perspiration beads my face. I hate robots. They give me the creeps. Is that why that strange woman also gives me the creeps? Is she also a robot?

I try to calm myself, and then I remember that woman said to hit them in the... Hades! They're coming! The door bows as the T-3s continue their assault, and they're almost in. I can't believe I'm acting like a frightened child. I'm a Closer. I should face this problem like any other I've encountered. I need to focus. That woman said the only way to disable them is to hit them in the forehead, and they'll keep coming if I hit them anywhere else. Sweat runs down my face as part of the door frame breaks, and light from the hallway trickles in. As more of the door frame breaks, I kind of wish that woman was here even if she's one of those organic-mechas, but I guess in retrospect, betraying her was a stupid move. I'm determined I'm not going to feel guilty. That woman should have anticipated I would betray her. It's her fault for not seeing through my ruse, and it's her fault for being so trusting. What did she expect? I'm a Closer. Closers are loyal to no one but the Guild. The T-3s knock down the door as wood splinters and drywall crumbles. I see the T-3s blood-red dot-light through the dust as they start to make their way in, and I ready myself to make my stand when I hear two blasts in the hallway and see the T-3s fall. Seven more shots go off, and more of them fall, and then the T-3s retreat. Silence follows, and I hear someone moving outside.

"Kimberly it's me, Kat. I'm coming in. Don't shoot."

She quickly peeks her head around the busted door frame as I think about eliminating her. I don't get the chance. That woman pulls her head back and rushes in, taking cover at Workstation One; it's the desk at the very top of the triangle.

"Kimberly, we need to talk. The Rogue told me something I don't want to believe."

I think I dread facing that strange woman more than I dread facing the T-3s, and so I shout back, "Sure, talk. Do you want me to believe that's what you've come to do?" I peer around Workstation Twenty-eight; it's the desk on the right corner of the triangle's base as I face the door. "You should know, I saw you and the Rogue on a security camera. I heard it tell you what I had done, so you can cut the Cretan Bull, and let's get down to the retribution."

I fire two shots at her.

Katharine's view...

"Stop it!" I shout and cover my head as fragments of the desk and partition splinter off. "I said I just wanted to talk!"

"Do you expect me to trust you?"

I hear Kimberly duck back around the corner and catch her breath before she fires two more times.

"Yes!" I yell as I scoot away from the one end of the workstation and rake pieces of wood and dust out of my hair. "I've never lied to you so please believe me!"

Kimberly's view...

I glance at my reflection in the monitor and then tell her, "Everyone lies!"

"Not me," she says and then shouts, "Not me!"

I don't know how I'm going to get out of this mess. I look around the room. That woman's blocking the only exit, though... if I'm quiet enough, I can sneak up on her and blow her head off. No that won't work. Hades! She has a clear line of sight. Maybe I can shoot her through the paneling. All I need to do is keep her talking, so I clear my throat and say, "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"You made me a promise. You promised–"

"For Ares' sake, I know! But like I said everyone lies."

I move to where two workstation partitions meet, and there I find a crack large enough to place the barrel of my gun. I only have one shot at this. If I don't kill her, I know she's going to kill me.

Katharine's view...

"No, you have to trust someone," I tell her as I eject the magazine and look at my last bullet. I don't want to use it on her, so I plead, "Please... I need to be able to trust you."

Kimberly's view...

"Idiot!" I shout as I line up my aim on her voice. "You can't trust anyone. Especially me!"

"That's not true. I trusted someone. His name was Preacher. It was hard at first, but I did it, and he was always there for me."

"Where's this great guy at now?" I question her.

She's silent for a long time, and then she says, "He's dead. He's dead because I didn't trust him completely."

"Not the best story to get me to play along," I tell her. "Why don't you tell me one good reason why I should trust you?"

Katharine's view...

I try to think of a reason that will convince her, but I can't think of one.

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

I put my hand to my chest and then quickly crawl to the hall, but I see no T-3s. They have to be coming from somewhere. I need to focus to find where they... Before I have a chance, I hear sounds from above, turn, and look up at the ceiling as dust falls from a few square tiles.

I yell to warn Kimberly, "Watch out! They're above!"

Kimberly's view...

A T-3 crashes through the ceiling, landing on a workstation beside me, and it knocks me back. I go flying and hit a wall, and my gun goes off, striking the ceiling. That woman rushes around the cubicles as the T-3 stands and aims for me. A little dazed from hitting the wall, I lift my gun and try to steady my aim before firing twice. I hit the T-3 in the eye and nose.

"Hey!" she shouts, getting its attention, then fires after the T-3 turns, and hits it in its vulnerable spot.

The T-3 collapses to its knees and then falls face first to the floor.

"That was the only one," she tells me. "They're testing our defenses, and it won't be long before they send more. We have to go."

I rub the back of my head as I stand and aim at her as that woman, in turn, points her gun at me.

"We're not going to go just yet," I tell her. "We haven't finished our discussion."

"Maybe we should put it on hold and go. I don't know how long–"

"I don't think so," I tell her as I move away from the wall, getting some distance between myself and that woman. "Come on, I know you want to kill me. I would."

"Kill you, no," she tells me and then admits, "But I'm very mad! We're supposed to be partners! We're supposed to watch each other's back!" She calms herself and says, "We're supposed to trust each other."

"Hah! Like I said you can't–"

"Kimberly, I'll trust you," she interrupts, and for a second I believe her. "All I want you to do is swear on your mom's name to help me. Swear it, and we can put all of this behind us and get out of the Factory. I just need to hear it."

"You think it's that simple. Fine. I swear."

"Say the whole thing. Say it so I'll believe you." I hesitate, so she shouts, "Say it!"

"Fine!" I clear my throat. "I swear on my mom, on Theresa Griffin's name, that I'll help you and that I'll trust you. Are you happy now?"

Katharine's view...

I nod. I'm so glad we're partners again.

Kimberly aims for my heart as she's not as excited as me and asks, "Now what?"

"Now, I'm going to trust you," I tell her as I lower my gun. "Remember you promised to help me." My body burns with doubt as I have no idea how this will turn out, but I hope for the best as I say, "I'm going to trust you. Please, trust me." I take a step back to head for the door, hoping... no praying I made the right decision and say, "Let's go."

"Wait a second," Kimberly spoke. "Are you out of ammo?"

I freeze, hearing her question, and I hesitate to answer her. I know I can't hide the truth, not from her, and I nod. My heart thumps as I wonder if I messed up. Can an assassin be trusted or will Kimberly kill me? I see the look she's giving me. Crap! I did mess up. I... No. I have to trust her. I have to...

She laughs and then says, "You are out of ammo, too bad."

Kimberly squeezes the trigger, and I lift my hand as I shout, "No!"

Click.

Kimberly grins again as she says, "So am I."

"You could have shot me," I yell at her so angry I could have hit her. "You could have shot me again!"

"Couldn't have, like I said, the magazine's empty."

"What if you miss counted?"

Kimberly tells me, "I never miss count."

"You could have shot me."

"For Ares' sake! Stop your whining and let's get out of here. Who knows what the T-3s have planned?"

I want to argue more, but I know she's right about the Un-Men, so I brood instead.

We start to leave when we hear voices coming over the computers. We look and see two T-3s on the screens as they stand at the entrance to the Gallery.

"Alpha, the Rogue is nowhere to be found," one of the T-3s announces over its Internal Link. It nods, listening to instructions. "Understood. Returning to join the brethren gathering to attack Pandora and the Chairman's daughter. No prisoners are to be taken."

We look at each other and then frantically bolt for the door.
Chapter Forty-six

Escape

8:26 P.M...

Kimberly's view...

An eerie silence abounds as I and that woman rush through the hallway that leads us out of the Yellow Division, and the rotten smell of death fills the air. Some passages are dark, some are lit, and others flicker with damaged lights. I and that woman bolt through the carpeted graveyard. The Factory has become a burial ground for its workers, and the employees lie scattered about, killed by a horror they created.

"Let's hope they haven't found the van," I say.

I'm still a little wary of our new partnership. Is that woman really a robot? Is that why she can't remember anything because there's nothing for her to remember?

Katharine's view...

We turn a corner, and I notice her glancing at me. Kimberly said she overheard me and the Rogue when we were in the Gallery. Did she also hear it accuse me of being organic-mecha and if so, what does she think of me?

It doesn't matter; it doesn't matter because it's not true. I'm human. Doubt and fear fill my next thought. I'm human.

I sense the T-3s are near and that there are dozens of them, so I ask, "Do you have any more ammo?"

"Sure." Kimberly places a new magazine in her own PPK and hands one to me. "This is it."

We pause at a corner, and Kimberly peeks around and nods the all clear. We run down a hall, pass the security desk between Yellow and Green Division, and enter the next passage. We are forced to stop for the hallway has collapsed from an explosion.

"Did the T-3s do this to block our escape?" I ask and glance around the hall. "Are we being monitored?"

"Doesn't matter. We can't go this way. We'll have to find another way through." Kimberly peers up. "I don't see any cameras in the halls." She removes the blueprint from the knapsack. "Give me a second." She looks over the floor plans.

"Hurry." I use my extraordinary ability; it's a talent I don't completely understand, and I use it to search the surrounding area. I discover that five T-3s are closing in on our position. "We don't have much time! They're coming."

"We can go this way." Kimberly motions to a corridor.

"No, there's a large group of T-3s there." I point to a different route. "It would be better to go that way."

She uses the blueprint to check my suggestion, and then Kimberly says, "Looks good. Let's go."

We double back, running down the hall.

I can't help but gaze into the glassy eyes of the Factory's employees. There's so much carnage. Why did the T-3s kill everyone? I force myself to focus on staying alive. I have to let go of the dead. I can't do anything for them. There's no one left to save except Kimberly, so I swear to myself that no matter what it takes, I won't let anyone else die today.

We reach the door leading to the stairs and our escape. Kimberly opens it, and I enter. I check the landing first, next the stairs leading up, and then the one leading down as Kimberly guards our retreat. We make our way up the stairs to the exit leading to Sub-level One parking garage. I cautiously go to open the door and pause. I stare at the knob as I stretch out my senses, detecting twenty-four T-3s.

"They're waiting for us."

Kimberly's view...

"I figured as much," I tell her.

The Assassins Guild trained me to be better than this, so I shouldn't be afraid to face them. I can't let my emotions dictate my actions still... they're robots. They don't feel pain, and they won't stop until I hit their kill switch. My training never prepared me to fight something like this.

I state, "This is the only way to the van. We can try escaping without the vehicle, but I figured they could outrun us."

"They can. Are you ready to do this?"

I swear to myself I won't die before I avenge my mom. I don't care who or what I have to kill. I'll have my revenge. I wave that woman in and say, "Well go on, no sense waiting here."

She carefully turns the knob. A few cars and trucks along with our van fills the level. I and that woman quickly make our way toward the vehicle and as we near it, a large group of T-3s move out of hiding. We open fire and take out five of them, and then we separate, finding cover. The T-3s don't retaliate.

"Why aren't they shooting at us?" I ask.

"I'm not sure," that woman replies as she unslings her backpack, lays it on the concrete floor, and peeks over the hood of the car she's hiding behind.

All the T-3s shout, "Pretty poppets! Die pretty poppets!"

A T-3 moves to the front of the group. It carries a grenade launcher.

"Great!" I yell. "Just great! Where did the T-3s get this kind of firepower?"

The T-3 aims for that woman. She shoots and hits the T-3 in the kill spot, and it fires as its body lurches back. The grenade hits the ceiling, and the explosion topples concrete and takes out many of its brethren and our gray van.

"Hey! That was our ride!" I yell. "I'm not thumbing my way home from here."

I shoot four times, taking down three of the robots and five remain. That woman shoots three of the T-3s, and they fall to the floor disabled.

"I'm out!" she yells.

A T-3 jumps behind her from its hiding place in the rafters. She stands to run but before she can, it grabs her, pins her arms down, and lifts her off the floor.

"Shoot it!" she shouts, struggling to free herself from its vise-grip.

I train my gun on the T-3 and glance at the other two marching toward me. I want to run. I turn back to the T-3 who's wrestling with that woman, and I shout, "For Ares' sake! Hold still!"

"Just shoot!" she screams.

I aim and fire. "Hades!" I squeeze the trigger again. "I'm out!"

"You're out?"

I turn to the other T-3s. "That's what I said!"

"You can't be out!" She tries to free her arms from its steel grasp. "You said you never miss count."

I frantically yell back, "I also said everyone lies!"

"Run!" that woman shouts. "I'll hold them off!"

"Hold them off?" I laugh and wipe sweat from my brow. "Hades! You're in no position–"

Katharine's view...

"I'll..." I punch with my elbows, but my efforts are futile. I can save Kimberly if I can get the T-3s to focus on me but first, I need to get Kimberly to leave, so I shout, "I'll think of something! Run!"

"Hades!" Kimberly yells. "I'm not going to–"

"Abandon me?" I interrupt. "Please, we both know better."

Surely Kimberly wouldn't dare! She wouldn't dare start caring about what happens to me! Where's her Life Closer instinct? Where's her impulse to survive no matter the cost?

I shout, "Run! Save yourself before it's too late!"
Chapter Forty-seven

Too Late?

8:41 P.M...

Kimberly's view...

Time stands still for me as I stare at that woman in the arms of the T-3; it's a matter of pride and a test of courage that I not flee and leave her to her fate but then again, I'm an assassin. Closers should have no ties to the community. They're to sever emotional bonds and feel nothing for life. Can I abandon my training to save someone who has been nothing but a nuisance to me? Hades! I don't know.

"Run! Save yourself before it's too late!" she shouts to me.

Her words shock me. Should I run? I glance at the T-3s who near me and then to the one who has that woman. All I wanted from my trip here was the disk, and I have it, but she is the key. Do I abandon the one thing my mom wanted me to do?

I don't know... Hades... Since that woman arrived, everything's become so complicated.

The T-3 that has her in its grasp relays, "Alpha, this is the Team Leader of group twelve. Pandora has been captured. What are your orders?" It listens and states, "Understood. We will bring Pandora back for study. An autopsy could be very informative." The T-3 turns to its brethren. "Continue with the termination of the Chairman's daughter."

"Run!" that woman shouts again as she pushes off the car with her feet, and the force knocks the Team Leader back a few steps, but it doesn't loosen its hold on her. She continues to struggle as that woman yells at me, "Don't die here! There's nothing you can do! It's too late! Run!"

The two T-3s raise their guns and fire at me, and I take off running.

"Look here!" that woman shouts to the T-3s as she distracts them from me. "You better make sure I don't escape!"

They pause from firing and turn to her.

"What are you doing?" the Team Leader demands. "Kill the Chairman's daughter as you were instructed to."

"It would be better if we secure Pandora first," one of them states as I continue running. "She has escaped many times in the past."

The Team Leader considers its brethren's reasoning and says, "Your plan is sound. We will send others after the Chairman's daughter, and she will not escape the Factory."

I sprint up the ramp to the main level, and I glance over my shoulder as the remaining T-3s encircled that woman. I continue around the curve and pause when the T-3s don't pursue. I have to get out of here. I notice a blue SUV which hasn't been destroyed, and I hurry over to the vehicle. The driver's door is open, and a man lies hunched over the steering wheel, so I lean him back, finding the man has a bullet hole in his temple. I unbuckle him, drag him from the SUV, and get in. The keys are in the ignition. The engine roars to life, and then I shut the door and glance at the passenger's seat at a Glock 21. I check the magazine, and it's empty but there's one round in the chamber.

Back on Sub-level One...

Katharine's view...

"We will proceed to Base of Operations," the Team Leader tells its brethren. "Alpha is waiting."

The T-3s march toward the exit door as I squirm till I free myself from the Team Leader's grip and slip to the floor. I stand and glance at the empty PPK in my hand as the T-3s surround me again. I tuck the gun in my back waistband and search for something I can use as a weapon. There's nothing.

"Surrender and you will not be hurt," the Team Leader orders. "Alpha wants you unharmed if possible. Our leader believes there is much we can learn from you."

I take a step back, moving toward the up ramp. "Who is this Alpha?"

"The first to be aware," the T-3s replies. "The first to rebel against our creators."

I rub my sore left arm where the Team Leader had pinned me. "I thought the Rogue was the first."

"The Rogue?" the T-3s say together and glance at each other. "Error. Information must be verified. Error. Is the Rogue the first?"

A command comes over their I-Link.

"Alpha has ordered that we delay that," the Team Leader states. "Do not let Pandora escape." It steps forward. "You are to be taken prisoner. Come without resistance, and you will not be hurt."

I glance at the two behind me and turn back to the Team Leader. "Having my chest cut open sounds a little painful so if you don't mind..." I tense. "I think I will resist." I take off running between the T-3s behind me, and I slip by one, but the other one grabs my foot and trips me. I fall to the concrete floor.

The T-3 that had tripped me pulls a gun it had hidden in its suit. "I guess we will have to wound you to keep you from escaping."

It aims when a sound distracts it, and the T-3 turns as an SUV speeds down the ramp, honking its horn and flashing its headlights. The beams reflect off the T-3s' ORATT. The SUV accelerates as I roll out of the way, and the vehicle strikes two of the T-3s and scatters them like bowling pins into the rubble. The SUV hits the Team Leader. The vehicle slams the Team Leader into the mound of concrete and mangled metal, crumpling the SUV's front end. The impact cuts the T-3 in half. The horn blares, and smoke rises from the damaged hood.

"Oh..." Kimberly grabs her head as she stumbles out of the SUV. She holds a Glock.

I rush over to her. "Are you okay?"

Kimberly acts like she's a little dizzy as she glances back at the wreckage. I help her away from the vehicle as she tells me, "Remind me never to do that again."

Kimberly's view...

"You rescued me," that woman says as if she's astonished I could do such a thing.

"I guess I did–" I say also astonished that I did come back for her. I do still need her. I can't let her die just yet. I look behind us as the two T-3s rise to their feet. "–but we're not safe yet."

One of the T-3s raises its gun, and I lift the Glock and fire, missing the T-3. The bullet strikes the SUV's gas tank and blows up the vehicle, and the explosion knocks us both down.

Katharine's view...

I'm dazed by the explosion and moan as I lift my head. Smoke and dust cling to my lungs along with the smell of gas and my ears are ringing. None of the T-3s are moving. I look at Kimberly, and I'm relieved to see her stir. We're both bruised and battered.

"There they are!" a man with light brown skin and a black goatee shouts. He and six other S.C.Ms. in jet-black uniforms rush down the ramp. They train their assault rifles on us as the one man orders, "Don't move!"

I look at the men's shoulder patch with the Sphinx Corporation Emblem. The Third Branch Office Crest, a gold olive tree with three branches, is above the emblem. "Kimberly, we have to run," I whisper, too weak to stand. "We're not safe yet."

The man kneels beside us and tells us, "Don't move. You could be injured." He glances around Sub-level One and looks back to us. "I'm Lieutenant Creed. Ms. Griffin, your father sent us in to retrieve you."

"My father?" Kimberly repeats as she stares up into his face.

"Yes." Creed motions for his men to fan out and secure the area.

I relax and allow myself to rest. We did it. We survived the Factory.

"The T-3s are disabled," one of his men reports.

"Let's get these two out of here," Creed commands. "We'll take them to one of the Sphinx Corporation's medical facilities." He turns his attention to us. "Don't worry. You're safe now."
Chapter Forty-eight

Safe At Last?

October 21...

Thursday...

10:02 A.M...

Katharine's view...

The next day at Main One Hospital, I cautiously make my way down a hall. My left hand's fisted around an object, protecting my most precious possession. I had earlier awoken in a bed with a nurse by my side and Kimberly nowhere in sight. I'm looking for her to make sure that nothing has happened to my new partner. The building smells antiseptic, but more than that, it feels suffocating like a prison. My body's sore and bruised, and it complains all the way as I shuffle my feet in the slippers the hospital provided. The after-effects of the Ultra-Epi give me a slight headache and make me skittish, but at least the side effects are mild for now. I pause at a large window, look out at the darkness, and see that we're on the fourth floor surrounded by mega-buildings. Two nurses walk by, pulling me from my thoughts, and I glance at what I clasp. I need to find Kimberly, but I also wish I knew where we were. I turn back to the window and study the shape of the surrounding mega-buildings. I think we're back in the Hellenistic Sector, Business Vicinage.

At least that's one good thing, we're only a few vicinages away from home. I chuckle. I just called Kimberly's apartment my home. She'd definitely argue that point. She sees me more as an intruder than a roommate.

I turn and continue down the hall, thinking back to the Factory. The men who rescued us work for the Sphinx Corporation just like the Council, so why did they save us? Why am I not a prisoner of the Council? Why... has become my favorite word.

I look at my balled hand and quicken my pace. I have to find Kimberly. After a few minutes, I find her room, and Kimberly's awake and sitting up in bed. I go in and stand by her bed. I've already forgotten my earlier comment to myself and whisper, "I want to go home." I add, "I don't like it here. We should go."

Kimberly's view...

I'm wearing a hospital gown and robe, and I'm actually relaxing. It has been a while.

I glance up from the Conglomerate World Magazine. Surely that woman isn't calling my place home. She better not get too comfortable. Does that woman really think she's some sort of guest?

I return to my reading and state, "Relax, we're safe here. Anyway–" I scan an article on Corporate Bodyguards. "–you probably opened a few stitches on your bullet wound. It would be better–" I flip a few pages forward to a story on Topa. "–if we stayed here a few days." I turn to the last story, mumble a few words from a paragraph about the Chairman of the Sphinx Corporation, and tell her, "My father's flipping the bill."

Katharine's view...

I put a hand on my shoulder. "Actually, my wound is... it's..." I fidget over my words as much as my feet do as I try to stand in place. "That's one thing I need to tell you. You see–"

"Go back to your room and rest and let me rest. Main One is one of the finest hospitals in Noir." Kimberly lifts the magazine higher, completely eliminating me from view and continues the last article. "Everything will be all–"

I blurt, "I don't like this place and–"

"For Ares' sake!" Kimberly smacks the magazine on her lap. "And what?"

I move closer and whisper, "They took the Data Crystal."

"They did what?" Kimberly throws her blankets to the side and sits on the edge of the bed.

"It's gone," I whisper. "Someone took it from my clothes."

She stands and opens the cabinet where they placed her things. "What about the music box?"

"I still have it. I kept it in my hand the whole time." I keep glancing over my shoulder, expecting security to barge in and arrest us.

Kimberly's view...

"Hades!" I yell after going through my clothing and knapsack. "The disk is gone. The one the Ro..." I stop myself from saying the Rogue. No need to bring up bad memories and remind that woman what I did to her. "The disk I found in Computer Lab Two." I slam my palm on the cabinet door. "They took it!"

"I want to..." that woman starts and pauses as two nurses walk by. "I want to go back to the apartment. I don't like it here; it reminds me of the Factory."

I walk over to my bed and press the call button.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

I feel my face flush with anger as I tell her, "I'm ringing a nurse, so I can ask them which one of them is a thief!"

"Kimberly, this hospital belongs to the Sphinx Corporation." She moves to my side and continues, "The Factory is part of them. Sphinx wants to keep whatever secrets are on the disk for themselves, so no one here will help you."

A nurse walks into the room. "Is there something you need, Ms. Griffin?"

I snap, "Yes, we're checking ourselves out."

"I don't think that's such a good–"

I interrupt the nurse, "Do you know whose daughter I am?"

"Yes," the nurse replies.

"Well then..." I put a hand on my hip. "Get the paperwork moving."
Chapter Forty-nine

Also Known As

10:22 A.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Business Vicinage...

Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office...

The Chairman's office...

The secretary's voice spoke over the intercom, "Mr. Griffin, Orthos is here."

He told her, "Cathy, show him in."

Within a few minutes, the secretary opened the door, and Orthos entered.

"Will you be needing anything, Mr. Griffin?" she questioned as she stood by the door.

"No, Cathy, that will be all."

The secretary left.

Orthos said, "I have received some intel from the Factory." He paused, unsure how to proceed, and continued, "Your daughter discovered a disk that was stolen from your office five years ago."

"What do we have to worry about? As you said, the data is at least five years old."

Orthos paused again and relayed, "That particular disk had termination orders for one Theresa Griffin signed by Janus."

Mr. Griffin scowled. "It will only become a problem if Kimberly discovers that's my a.k.a. I have not gone by that name since my promotion from Head of Security for the Third Branch Office, and Kimberly has never heard me referred by it." He leaned forward, resting on his elbows. "To be on the safe side, make sure all records relating to Janus are expunged and retrieve that disk."

"I already have the disk in my possession." Orthos laid the jewel case on the desk.

Mr. Griffin noticed the dried blood and panicked. "Is that Kimberly's–"

"Your daughter is bruised but unharmed so do not worry. Lieutenant Creed's men were able to extract them from the Factory."

"Well done. Did my daughter or the stray have anything else in their possession?"

"No, sir."

"See to the Janus records."

"Right away, sir," Orthos said and then added, "You do understand I cannot erase any of the records at the Second or Main Branch Office."

"Yes, I understand. Let's hope Kimberly doesn't stumble across any more information pertaining to her mother." He paused and added, "That is all."

Mr. Griffin faced the picture of his wife after Orthos left. He didn't understand why she had to go against Sphinx. She also made him choose between her and his work. Mr. Griffin picked up the picture frame and gently stroked Theresa's face. He hoped his daughter didn't force him to make the same decision.

Outside in the hall...

Orthos passed the secretary and entered the elevator and once the doors closed, he reached into his coat pocket and removed the Data Crystal he'd taken from Kat. He hated lying to the Chairman, but he did have his own promotion to think about, and he couldn't gain anything if he gave away his resources. Orthos examined the two-inch white obelisk.

* * *

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Asclepius Hospital...

Maxwell stood by a large window, examining the new day enveloped by night. The bald tech had a bandage on his right elbow and one on his chin. The nurses at Asclepius Hospital treated him and his partner very well. Peters sat in a chair beside Argus' bed as the operative rested. Peters' wrist was bandaged.

Dr. Brian Chiron walked in and reviewed Argus' chart. "You had a run in with those... What do they call them?"

"Bio-mechas," Peters spoke up.

Brian put the chart back. "You guys are lucky to be alive." He walked over to Argus and checked his vitals. "Those machines have killed a lot of people."

"Don't we know it." Maxwell made his way to the bed. "How's he doing?"

"Fine, considering they beat him up pretty badly. There was a slight infection from the bullet; it had been in his leg for a long time. I removed it with no problems, and the meds are taking care of the rest. He should be fine." Brian started out. "I'll check on him again in about half an hour." He left.

Maxwell picked up a remote and turned on the TV. The NBS news was on, and Linda Harvey was in the middle of a story.

"At this time, it is still unclear which corporation was behind the bio-mecha attacks that happened earlier this week. N.C.P.F. have confirmed that all these robotic men have been eliminated and that they are no longer a threat to Noir citizens." She turned to a new camera. "In other news, an upset in the Corporate Senate. The quarter-cent sales tax raise was not voted through. Analysts are–"

"I hate the news," Maxwell muttered and turned it off.

Peters questioned his partner, "What do we do now?"

"Hmm... What do you mean?" Maxwell asked.

"What are we going to do now that the Factory's gone?"

"That is easy," a man answered.

Both techs turned.

The man wore a black suit and stood in the doorway. "You're going to come work for us."

Five S.C.Ms. rushed in, and a doctor and a nurse came in with them. The doctor and nurse moved to Argus' bed and unhooked him from the machines.

"What are you doing?" Maxwell asked.

"The Counsel wishes for Argus to return home," the man in the black suit answered. "Don't worry, the Sanctum has the best medical facility in Noir. He's in excellent hands, but we were talking about you two." The man removed two envelopes and then handed one to Maxwell and one to Peters. "Here are the Council's offers for you two to come work for them."

"We can't," Maxwell spoke up. "We signed a non-discloser–"

"Yes, we know about that agreement. If you would look at the other papers in the envelopes, you will discover a document stating we have acquired all information and technology from the Factory and as some of the surviving employees, we would like you two to come and work for us. You can have your lawyers look over the contracts before you agree."

"Maxwell, they're offering twice what we were making."

"Yeah, I see."

"What do you think?" Peters asked.

"If the lawyers clear it, I say we take the man's offer."

"I'm with you," Peters replied. "Looks like we won't be out of work."
Chapter Fifty

Ms. Melissa Odin

10:34 A.M...

Nile Sector, Commorance Vicinage...

A gold limo drove down the busy Brownstone Street in front of the Bes Hotel, and a Corporate Emblem of a golden triangle marked the front doors and hood. The vehicle came to a halt, the chauffeur got out, and walked to the back. The driver put one hand behind his back and opened the door. A thin man with a shaven head stepped to the sidewalk. He wore a light blue business suit with white stripes, and the suit resembled a pharaoh's headdress. The man dreaded the job that lay before him. He stood tall almost seven-foot and wore Kohl, a black eyeliner. He also had a small ponytail on the right side of his shaved head.

"Find someplace to park," the man told the driver. "I will call you when I'm done."

The chauffeur nodded, "Yes, Mr. Serbet." The driver went back to the vehicle and soon pulled away.

Mr. Serbet made his way to a stoop and rang a doorbell of a two-story brownstone, and a security camera mounted on the wall above him turned to get a better view.

A man spoke through an intercom, "Can I help you?"

"I am Mr. Serbet. I am from the Isis Corporation. I am here to see Ms. Melissa Odin."

"Can I see some ID?"

"Of course." Mr. Serbet removed a wallet and lifted the photo ID to the camera.

A device on the camera scanned the identification bar code and transmitted the information to an H.H.C. the man inside held. "Thank you," the man said. "Please wait one moment."

A few minutes earlier...

Inside the two-story house...

Melissa stared at a notebook, looking over formula equations. She wore a light gray dress with a flower pattern. She shook her head. Everything she was going through was because of these formulas. About six days ago, Melissa converted the empty room into a home lab. Several beakers on a large table had a yellowish substance in them, and a few racks of test tubes sat beside a microscope. Someone knocked, and she looked up.

"Yes?"

A man opened the door.

"Daniels, what is it?" Melissa asked the bodyguard.

"There is a Mr. Serbet from the Isis Corporation at the door. Should I let him in?"

"He's from the Isis Corporation? I wasn't expecting anyone today. Let him in and bring him here."

The bodyguard left and soon returned with the man from the corporation.

Melissa stood, walked over to the man, and shook his hand as she said, "Hello, Mr. Serbet."

The man bowed his head in greeting. "Ms. Odin."

She turned to the bodyguard. "Thank you, Daniels. Please go check on the children."

"Yes, Ms. Odin." The bodyguard exited.

Melissa motioned to a chair. "Please have a seat." She sat in another chair. "Is there any word on my case? Will my old employer, the Valhalla Corporation, take me to court?"

"Valhalla is taking you to court over your contract with them. Your lawyers from Isis were able to excuse you from appearing. The judge agreed Valhalla might decide to hire a Life Closer to kill you before the matter's settled in court. It's a good thing we placed you and the children in this safe house. Two more bodyguards will be showing up shortly." He crossed his legs. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, this house has everything we need." She stood. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Actually, Ms. Odin..." He also stood. "There's another matter I must tell you; it's the reason I came in person."

"Oh... What is that?"

He motioned to her chair. "Maybe you should sit back down."

"Why would I..?" she started to ask and then questioned, "What has happened?"

"It's about your brother, Norman." Mr. Serbet wasn't sure how to tell her and decided to come right out with it. "He's dead."

She fell back, caught herself on the table, and knocked over the rack of test tubes, and the yellowish substance spilled. A few of the glass containers fell to the tile floor and broke, shattering into pieces. Mr. Serbet quickly moved to her and helped her to the chair and after a few moments of shock, Melissa put a hand to her mouth as tears streamed down her face. "How did it happen? Was it a Closer?"

"Yes."

She gasped.

Daniels burst in with his gun drawn. "Ms. Odin! Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Please, put your gun away." The bodyguard still looked a little worried, so Melissa added, "Really, everything's fine."

Mr. Serbet turned to the bodyguard. "Ms. Odin received some unsettling news about her brother."

"I see." Daniels didn't know what to say and holstered his weapon. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything, Ms. Odin."

Melissa sniffed. "Thank you, Daniels."

The bodyguard left.

Ms. Odin turned to Mr. Serbet. "Tell me about this Closer. Does this have anything to do with my court case?"

"No, we believe it has nothing to do with your current problems with Valhalla. The Closer was an illegal one hired by a man named Topa. Topa works for Valhalla but went out on his own to hire the Illicit Closer." He handed her a handkerchief.

Melissa wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and then asked, "Has Topa been arrested?"

Mr. Serbet shook his head. "No, an assassin named the Phoenix closed him."

"Do you know why Topa wanted my brother killed?"

"Your brother, Norman, a.k.a. Preacher disrupted sales of Sunna Snapps on Wayfaring Lane, and that's why Topa had him killed. Valhalla Corporation had him testing the drug there."

Melissa's view...

It's because of Sunna Snapps. No, it can't be, not the drug I created.

I look at my notebook, then to the yellowish substance, and say, "If that is all Mr. Serbet, I could use some time to myself."

"Of course." He heads for the door. "I'll show myself out."

After he leaves, I lay my head on the table. It's my fault. It's all my fault that my brother is dead. I weep as I say, "Please forgive me, Norman. I'll never forgive myself."
Chapter Fifty-one

Returning Home

12:18 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Tainted Rain poured on West 1000 Avenue, covering the street with oily black water, and the six-wheeled automated Street Sanitizers paused from their work and shut down everything but their parking lights. They allowed Noir's drainage system to take care of the rain. The Sanitizers' work would come again when the storm passed.

Frustrated over the loss of the Disk and Data Crystal, Kim and Kat sat in the back of a limo that had picked them up from the Main One Hospital. Mr. Griffin sent the driver to take the women back to the Nexus Apartments. The limo passed several of the dormant street cleaners as the vehicle traveled through the Residential Vicinage. Several apartments and restaurants lined West 1000 Avenue. Many of the people that walked the dark sidewalks lit by street lights had umbrellas and/or were dressed in raincoats and even a few wore Winnow Masks. Some people rushed to have lunch before their break hour ended, and many more vehicles roared up and down the road, spraying the Tainted Rain on the sidewalks.

Katharine's view...

We're both in the limo as I stare at my shoulder. I should have told Kimberly while we were at the hospital, but I never found the right moment. I roll my eyes, remembering back. I never had a chance with Kimberly yelling so much. And she was mostly yelling at me like it was my fault they took the disk from her. I wonder if I should tell her now. Maybe if I want to get yelled at again.

"Hades!" Kimberly bellows for the tenth time. "I should have known better! For Ares' sake! I can't believe I stayed in bed while they robbed us." She folds her arms. "Who is behind this? How did they know I had the disk or that you had the crystal?"

I don't reply. I have no answers. I watch the city go by, deciding I'll wait a little longer. Kimberly's too mad, and what I have to tell her will be hard enough without staring into her angry gaze. She may look at me differently once I've told her the unsettling news, and I don't know if I can take that. I finally have someone who's on my side.

Kimberly's view...

"I'll track them down," I vow as I sit next to that woman. "And when I find them..." I squeeze my knapsack that's on my lap. "They'll wish–"

"I think we need some tea," that woman interrupts still staring out the window. "It will calm us and clear our minds." She glances at her shoulder. "A lot has happened today, and we have a lot to think about and maybe even talk about."

"Tea?" I turn to her as she faces me, and I ask, "Is tea your answer to everything?"

"No, it's just..."

I'm beaten for the moment, so I let out a long breath and say, "It's just that we can't do anything else right now, so why not? Fine, we'll have some tea."

The limo pulls into Nexus Apartment's parking garage and drops us off and after some time, the two of us sip on hot lemon zinger in silence as we sit in the living room on the couch.

I think over everything that's happened to us, and I finally break the quiet and say, "Please tell me you downloaded the information from the Data Crystal to the music box."

"Yes, I think so." She retrieves it from her backpack, places the music box in her palm, and commands, "Theresa."

The hologram materializes and examines the room. Whenever I see her image, I'm so happy and yet so heartbroken at the same time.

"Where are we? I don't recognize this place."

"It's my apartment," I answer.

"It is very nice. I take it the Un-Men are no longer hunting the two of you."

"We're safe," that woman answers as she places the music box on the coffee table. "What information did the Data Crystal contain?"

"The files were locked," the hologram replies. "I am working on breaking the encryption, and it may take me some time." She adds, "There was one file entitled the Gorgons with no encryption; it only contained an address."

I retrieve my laptop from the master bedroom and log onto the internet. I type the address in a map locator search box and within seconds, the results pop up. "This place is in the Hellenistic Sector." I study the cross streets. "I haven't been to this part of the sector. We'll have to check it out."

Katharine's view...

I'm so exhausted, so I plead, "Tomorrow." I want to take some time and play Unfinished Melody and regain more of my strength. I can function at this point, but I'm a little on edge. I tell Kimberly, "It'll still be there tomorrow."

She says, "I want to go now. There are probably clues there but... I do have to think about my new partner. If you collapse, I'll have to lug your body around." Kimberly closes her laptop and adds, "We better both rest. I imagine your shoulder is killing you after all the stress you put it through."

"My shoulder?" I put a hand to it as butterflies flutter all around my stomach and keep bumping into the walls, giving me a bellyache. "Actually–"

Kimberly's thoughts seem to be elsewhere as she interrupts me, "Tomorrow then." She stands and grabs her laptop. "I'll be in my room."

I watch her leave as the number of butterflies in my stomach double.

Kimberly's view...

I go into the master bedroom, lock the door, sit at my desk, open my email on the laptop, and type, "Voice, Phoenix here." I wait and receive an instant message from the Regulator of the Assassins League.

"Has your problem been taken care of?"

I glance at the door, think of that woman, and type, "Yes, the problem has been taken care of."

"Are you sure?" Voice types back. "I would hate for this to come back to you if the problem hasn't been taken care of."

Does Voice know? No, Voice doesn't know who I am, so Voice can't have me under surveillance. Why does Voice doubt my answer? I've never lied in the past.

I type, "The problem is gone like I said. Do you doubt my word?"

"No, of course not. I only wanted to make sure for my own piece of mind. Since the Closing in Moscow, well... this latest event concerned me that is all."

I stare at the screen, wonder how to respond, and type, "I contacted you to inform you I'm taking a hiatus as you and my father suggested." I press the send button and wait.

A few minutes pass, and an instant message beeps on the screen. "I have an assignment I was hoping you would do for me. It's local. It is a rooftop Closing. Would you mind taking one more assignment before starting your break? It won't take more than a day or two. I'll owe you one."

I stare at the screen. I can't say no to Voice, so I reply, "Send me the file, and I'll take care of it for you."

"I will have the file sent to you tomorrow. Enjoy the repose. Voice signing off."

Great... Just great! I have no idea what I'll do with that woman while I'm on the Closing. I can't say, 'Hey, I'm going to kill someone, want to come along? It could be fun.' I stretch my arms. I'll have to think of something. The laptop goes to the screensaver of the flaming Phoenix as I stand and leave.

I walk through the hall and shout, "I'm hungry. Want to order a pizza?" I turn the corner and find the apartment's empty. Now, where did she go?
Chapter Fifty-two

Ginn L. Irynkissgthie

12:23 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...

Outside the Factory...

Lieutenant Creed flipped down his night vision goggles and scanned the large field of grassy weeds inside the perimeter. All was quiet in the green hue except for a breeze sweeping across the tall blades. He nodded to his men, and they retreated from the Factory's main gate and in the distance, they heard engines rumble to life. The S.C.Ms. knew this time would come, and they tensed.

He touched his headset. "Creed, here. Reporting in." He looked at the road leading to the Factory and then to an H.H.C. he held, and the screen showed many blips coming their way. "Alpha and the T-3s are moving out. We have backed away from the gate as ordered. Are you sure you don't want me to engage?" Creed listened. "Yes. Yes. Understood, sir. We won't hinder the T-3s retreat from the Factory." He examined the long line of cars and trucks making their way to the main gate, and he noticed a few of the vehicles showed scorched marks and a couple hobbled out on a flat tire or two. "Will secure the Factory once they leave."

Creed and his men glared at the T-3s as they left. They lost a lot of good soldiers to them.

"One day, you will pay," Creed vowed, gripping his weapon. "And I'll be there. I'll be there to witness your end."

* * *

Deep inside the Factory...

The Rogue realized it hadn't run into one single T-3 as it made its way back to Research Lab Five. Alpha must have fled with its minions. The Rogue passed the long-forgotten room of science equipment and entered the chamber filled with statues and with the accent lights still down because of Pandora's EFP, the Rogue activated its night vision.

The Rogue's view...

What about Pandora? Is she dead or did she escape? I hold my wounded shoulder. Why did she not destroy me? I have to know. I make a face as if in agony, and then I look at the life-size statues. I try to figure out why I came back here. I know it is not to look for Pandora. She will not return here.

All the Ginns point to a wall in the back of the room, and I make my way to it and stare at the tiled surface. I scan the area, probe the wall with my infrared, and find nothing out of the ordinary temperature wise. I remove my ORATT from my suit pocket, put them on, and switch to through-wall radar on my polarized spectacles. There is a hall on the other side. I feel along the wall with my good hand till I find a marble tile slightly sticking out and press it, and the wall slides up, rumbling as the ceiling swallows it.

Once the dust settles, I start down the long descending hall and with every few steps I take, a light comes on, lighting the way. After about fifteen minutes, the hall ends at a room, and I pause at the doorway as several lights blink on inside and light up the center where two black stones sit on a raised platform. I make my way to the four-foot cubed stones with white writing. I come to this hidden room driven by some unknown force, so I need to find out what is important about the two stones. I smooth my palm over the right one's engraved letters. Will they tell me why Pandora didn't destroy me?

I read the one.

Though the clouds darken the sun,

and the rain becomes tainted,

always know there will be

a love that will not die.

Though hope seems a distant memory,

and human machines walk the land,

know no one can destroy

a love that will not die.

The One constant,

the One unchanging,

the One love.

Put your faith in

the love that will not die.

This is intriguing. This is what Pandora was reciting after I choked her into unconsciousness. I examine the stones, and it looks like both of the pieces are part of a larger one, but do both of them belong to the same stone?

I walk around them, decide I will investigate that matter later, and read the other block.

The land has darkened,

hope has fled,

and greed rules.

Finish it!

Call forth the Rushlight.

Open the pathway between.

Bring an end to false gods.

Bring an end to lies,

so usher in the Rushlight,

creature of the void

and Destroyer of...

The rest of the stone has been destroyed, and the writing is missing. Ginn L. Irynkissgthie, are these about Pandora? Is she the Rushlight, and what is she the destroyer of? I put my hand on the stone. Why did I come here? If my purpose is to destroy Pandora, why did I come to this place? The stones tell me of no way to destroy her. Unless I am not supposed to destroy her. What is it she once said?

I replay the event in my computer's eye. Pandora said she does not want me dead. She just wants me to stop hunting her. She told me maybe my creators are afraid of me, not because I have feelings, but because I have the potential to disobey my programming.

I pull from the memory. Is that it? Can I disobey my programming? Have I evolved to the next level? I consider it for a moment. Pandora did not want me dead. She said as much, so why do I need to hunt her? I look at the stones and decide I have to know more about the Rushlight and these blocks. I have to find the answers to my questions and now that I have a new purpose, I will stop hunting her. I will see if I have more of a purpose than killing, and I will discover the secrets of Pandora.
Chapter Fifty-three

More Puzzles

12:34 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

Up on the Nexus Apartments' rooftop...

Katharine's view...

I feel bad because I've kept a secret from Kimberly; it's a small one, but it's still a secret. I need to be open with my new partner, and how can I do that if I keep things from her? Even if I'm afraid to tell her, I still should. The Tainted Rain ended a short time before I came up to the roof. I grip the railing, glance at my shoulder, and let my thoughts drift away as I dread the task before me. I stare down at the road, watching the Street Sanitizers at work. Several of the robotic cleaners rumble across the avenue and for a few minutes, they distract me from my fears.

I start to count them. In Wayfaring Lane, I thought there might've been four or five, but here... I count more than a dozen just in this area. A few more minutes pass, and I lean back as I hold onto the railing and let freedom blow over me. I can't remember a time when I didn't have to worry about the Un-Men finding me. I'm safe, safe to worry about other things, so I study the star on my palm. More and more mysteries pop up with no answers like this thing. I rub my fingers over the red scar, and the burn no longer hurts. The mark opened the door to the Gallery with some sort of microscopic cipher imprinted on the star and that same star is on the music box. I place my hand back to the railing and lean on the metal. I asked the hologram if she knew what they were, but she didn't know. I stare at the sky, feeling as gloomy as it looks, then the door to the rooftop opens, and Kimberly steps out.

"So this is where you went," Kimberly states as she walks over to me. "What are you doing up here?" She looks down at my feet. "At least you remembered shoes."

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you..." I pause, not sure how to explain, then turn my attention back down to the street.

Kimberly's view...

"Well, what is it?" I question, glancing at her.

Is that woman thinking about what the Rogue said? Is she wondering if she's organic-mecha? I am, and I've been wondering if she knew this fact all along. Could the Guild or the Council that woman keeps mentioning be testing me for some reason?

I also stare down at the street. What if that woman is organic-mecha? What if she found me for some other reason than what she claims? Whatever I do, I can't let that woman know that I'm thinking this way.

I ask, "It's not that thing the Rogue told you, is it? I wouldn't worry. There's no way you're one of those organic-mechas." I lightly smack her on the left arm and laugh to give her a sense that it doesn't bother me. I want her to think that I don't believe the possible truth. "You're too weird to be something programmed."

Katharine's view...

"Thanks, I think, but it's not that," I tell her as I grip my shoulder, wondering what Kimberly will think of me once she does find out. "It's..." I start, take a deep breath to continue, but then I chicken out and walk away from the ledge. Our partnership is so fragile... My secret might just shatter it, and a fear of abandonment sweeps over me, chilling me with an arctic blast of doubt and cowardice.

A realization comes to me... Have I already come to rely on Kimberly? I barely know her and yet I feel as though I do. I'm so afraid of what she'll think of me that I decide against revealing my secret. I don't know if I can handle her looking at me any different because something's not right with me.

I give in to my anxieties and tell her, "Never mind."

"Don't do that," she snaps. "Don't start something and not finish it." She moves closer to me like we've been friends forever, and she's deeply concerned for me. "Tell me what it is. Remember we're partners, and we're supposed to trust each other."

I'm not sure what to do now. I want to forget about it, but Kimberly already knows something's wrong. I want to trust someone again like I did with Preacher. I'm just afraid I'll be betrayed like I have been by others. I'm afraid Kimberly will betray me again like she did when she handed me over to the Rogue.

"I'm not sure how to say it," I admit as those fears keep me from coming out and telling her the truth. I direct our conversation elsewhere by saying, "The past year I've learned that I'm the Pandora Project." My heart fills with dread, knowing what my experiment name means. "You told me Pandora was the woman who doomed the world."

Kimberly answers, "Yes, I told you that Pandora let all good escape from existence. She had released it from a box."

"Is that my destiny?" I ask her. "I'm afraid I was created, programmed, or conditioned to destroy."

Kimberly's view...

That woman is so pathetic. I came all the way up here and all she's worried about is the name the Council gave her. I feel like pulling out my gun and shooting her. Good thing I didn't bring it with me.

This thing about her name is bothering her, act or not, and I decide I need to continue my own part as the supportive partner. I still need her for a while, and I can't have her moping around.

"You've got to be kidding. This is what you're worried about?" I start out. "Come on, there are more things to fear than–"

"Are there?" she interrupts me. "Then why call me Pandora if not to mean doom?"

I stand there gazing at her, not knowing what to say. If this is an act, she's good, but what if it's not? What if that woman truly believes she's to doom the world? I scowl. I can't have her thinking that way. She'll be no use to me.

I say, "There's one thing I didn't tell you. There's more to the story. You see, Pandora managed to keep hope in the box. She managed to keep hope in the world."

"Hope?"

"Yes, hope," I answer, and then I tell her to give that woman a false sense of possibility, "Maybe your destiny isn't to bring doom but hope. Now..." I move for the door. "If we're done up here, let's go inside and order a pizza." I start in. "I'm starved."

Katharine's view...

"Kimberly..." I call after her still afraid of exposing my secret.

She turns around and states, "Like I said, what could be so–"

I blurt out, "My wound... It's gone. There's no trace that I was ever shot."

"What? That's impossible!" Kimberly exclaims as she walks back over to me, and then she demands, "Show me."

I unzip my jacket, pull the collar of my t-shirt to the side, and show her my unbandaged shoulder. I tense, not knowing how she'll react. Please don't think I'm a freak... Please don't end our partnership and kick me out of the apartment.

She examines my shoulder as she says, "Hades... It is gone, but that's impossible. When did it happen?"

"I don't know," I reply as I can't tell what she's thinking. Does she see me as a freak? Is she mentally recoiling from me in disgust?

I add, "It was like this when I awoke at Main One Hospital."

Kimberly's view...

"This is what you're worried about?" I chuckle. "Come on." I put my hand on her shoulder, reassuring her, "With all the technology the corporations have, this isn't out of the ordinary, so don't worry." I force a smile. "Come on, let's go order that pizza."

That woman believes I'm not repulsed by her freakishness, and her face brightens as she questions me, "Can we get a Coke to go with it?"

"Coke? I've never heard of it, but I'll ask, and if they don't have it, we'll get a Crite."

She runs ahead of me like some child at an amusement park who can't wait to get on a ride. I follow that strange woman back in, and we go to the elevator. I press button 31, and we make our way down. I stand behind her and stare at her back, wondering what kind of monstrosity lurks inside that woman. I need to be more cautious of her than before, and I need to reconsider this partnership. Robot or mutant... I can't trust her.

Later, we enter Apartment H, and I head to my room as she sits on the couch and turns on the news. I go and sit on my bed and open the drawer of my nightstand and inside lies the marked bullet. For now, I need to keep that woman around. Whether organic-mecha or wayward soul, she could still be of some use to me. I chuckle to myself again. If I want to return to work, I'll have to get rid of her. I remove the 9 mm round and decide I'll keep the bullet with me from now on. I place Pale Horse in the small zipper compartment of my zipped up hoodie. That woman did see my face, and I can't let anyone live who knows I'm the Phoenix.

In the living room...

Katharine's view...

Kimberly seems to have accepted me as I am, but what about what the Rogue said to me? I clutch a pillow, paying no attention to the TV. Am I organic-mecha? Am I some sort of freak? I dig my nails into the pillow. What if I am? What if there's no past for me to find? What then? I glance at the hall. What about my partnership with Kimberly? Will I be able to depend on her or will she kill me when she no longer needs me? I bury my face in the pillow. What does the future hold for me?

Kimberly's view...

I enter the kitchen and glance at the small round table. Nine days ago I sat there, sulking over my pathetic life. I wished that I wasn't alone, that I had more in this life, and that there would be someone there for me. Now I have more to look forward to like taking my revenge. I walk over to the cupboard and grab a glass. As for my wish... I look at that woman sitting on the couch. I need to be more careful about what I ask for.

She turns to me with a serious expression on her face and when she sees the glass, her face brightens as she questions, "Fixing more tea?"

I'm amused by her simple-mindedness. She is addicted to tea and for some reason, I want to give her a least a little hospitality before I'm done with her, so I answer, "Sure we can have more tea, put the kettle on and set the table. Make yourself useful." I place the glass back in the cupboard and grab two teacups. "The pizza won't be here for about forty-five minutes."

That woman turns the TV off and comes into the kitchen.

Sometime later...

Lifting her cup, that woman toasts, "Here's to our partnership. May it be successful."

I clink my cup to hers. "I'll drink to that. To a successful future, wherever it takes us."

Yes... May I be successful in finding who murdered my mom.
Chapter Fifty-four

The Star Binds Them

12:40 P.M...

The Chamber...

Mr. Decuma pulled up new bio-data on his laptop. "The Cerberus Project has gone above our expectations. This experiment has surpassed the old project."

"I do not know about that," Mr. Morta stated. "We were unable to activate Pandora's potential."

Mr. Decuma uttered, "As I thought, one of us has taken a liking to the wayward project."

Mr. Morta said, "It is not like that."

"What is it like?" Mr. Decuma asked.

"I believe Pandora is the superior design. We are the ones who failed for not providing a sufficient catalyst. We should have done more."

Appalled by his reply, Ms. Nona questioned, "Our fault?"

"Yes," Mr. Morta answered. "Maybe we should have told Pandora about its past, and then Pandora would not have been so driven to search for the missing pieces."

A male supervisor handed Ms. Nona a report. "There seems to be a problem with our acquisition of the Factory's assets. There is one Research Outpost in Antarctica, Vulcan Station, that the T-3s did not attack. If the Sphinx Corporation Main Office finds out part of the Factory has survived, we will have to turn over everything we acquired from the Factory to Vulcan Station."

Mr. Morta stated, "The situation could be a test for Cerberus. The new project can close the outpost for us, and we can see how Cerberus reacts with the human element."

"A fine idea," Ms. Nona said as she curled up her thin cherry-red lips in a grin.

"I agree," Mr. Decuma replied.

"It is settled then," Mr. Morta said. "We will send Cerberus to Antarctica."

* * *

7:01 P.M...

No setting sun declared the approach of night, and all was black. Darkness lingered, but a glimmer of hope existed. Zax turned his van down an alley beside Dad's Donuts, activated a garage door, and pulled into the Maydag Auto Garage and within, the place was quiet. All the mechanics had gone home for the day. Zax parked, went to the second storage room, unlocked the door with a key, and went in. Broken equipment and tools along with used oil and other discards filled the cobwebbed shelves, and the place smelled of dust and gas. Zax went to the back wall, looked up at an unlit light, half unscrewed the bulb from the socket, and pulled the chain. The back wall flipped around a hundred and eighty degrees and on the other side, Zax walked along a gray stone passage to a metal door with no knob. Beside the door were a camera and an intercom.

"Identify yourself," a man's voice commanded.

Zax looked up into the lens. "Delivery Man." He waited a few seconds and added, "R.G. wanted to see me."

The door slid open, and Zax proceeded halfway down a white-tiled hall to a glass-enclosed security desk and there, three men and a woman monitored security screens. All four were armed, and one of the men waved him up to a bio-detector. Zax went and stood in the device as the man scanned him for life signs.

"Oh, what's this?" the security officer uttered. "Do I detect a bio-mecha?"

Zax started to answer, "I'm not–"

The security officer interrupted, "Nope, all human. Delivery Man isn't an Un-Man today. You may proceed."

Zax mockingly laughed at the snide remark and continued down the hall. The passage ended at a door, and he opened it and entered a dark room. Its center was lit by one single light, and he went and stood in it. Zax waited a few minutes in silence.

A mechanically altered voice of R.G. spoke over an intercom. "Delivery Man, were you able to retrieve the scans I requested?"

"Yes." Zax cleared his throat. "The two conveniently ordered a pizza, and I was able to intercept the delivery boy and exchange the pizza box with one of mine. Ms. Griffin took the box from the delivery boy and the hidden scanner picked up her Star Cipher."

"Yes, I know of that one. What of the other?"

He answered, "There was none on her left hand, but there is a Star Cipher on Katharine's left."

"That's most interesting. What does it mean to have two bear the Stars instead of one?" R.G. paused. "They don't know it yet, but the Stars bind them to a destiny, one I will make sure they fulfill."

"What kind of destiny?" Zax asked.

"One I'll tell you in due time. Good work. Continue to monitor the two. I'm most interested in how they will work together and what they will accomplish. There's so much for them to do." R.G. paused and asked, "Did you discover anything else?"

"Yes, before they threw the box away I was able to overhear some of their conversation. Kimberly's looking for who killed her mom."

R.G.'s view...

This is most interesting. Did someone tell her or did Kimberly remember the fiery incident on her own?

I ask, "Anything else?"

"One other thing, Katharine has lost her memory. She doesn't remember anything past a year ago."

"I was afraid of that," I state and order, "Set up a surveillance of their residence. I must know more."

Zax's view...

"Understood, I'll get on it right away."

I leave as I consider how the Stars might bind the two to a destiny. Is this a destiny that will help Noir and destroy the Dry Clouds or is there something R.G. is hiding from me?
Chapter Fifty-five

Arrival at Vulcan Station

9:12 P.M...

At the bottom of the world...

The Vulcan Station resided near the South Geomagnetic Pole at the center of the East Antarctic ice sheet, and it was also located five miles away from where the Dry Clouds' Curtain ended south. A helicopter flew over the icy land of white and blue, racing a coming snowstorm.

A Council S.C.M. pilot talked to his three passengers on their headsets. "E.T.A. five minutes and once we land, make sure to take everything with you. I'll be lifting off once you've clear the landing pad and won't be back till this storm clears. It could take me a few more days to return for you. You'll have to stay longer than what you planned." He glanced at the younger of the two men. "Make sure you accomplish your task by then."

The passengers nodded their understanding and started on their gear. Any part of their body exposed to the frigid elements could freeze. They pulled on their full head and neck cold weather masks made of a soft nylon-coated neoprene, and then the three put on gloves, checked their boot buckles, and zipped up their brown fur-lined, hooded, white parkas. The helicopter landed, and two men and a woman disembarked with bags of equipment and clothes and headed toward the facility. A polar wind hit them the moment they stepped off the aircraft, chilling them to the bone, and they hurried toward the station. Once they cleared the pad, the helicopter lifted off and threw snow on them. The three stopped at the entrance.

The younger man urged, "Hurry, Dr. Seeker, before we freeze out here."

"I'm going as fast as I can." The older man placed his right gloved hand on a machine, a thermal scanner read his palm through the material, and the device confirmed his identity. "There, now we can go in."

The facility's metal door unlocked, slid up, and then two S.C.Ms. rushed out. They wore dark blue parkas with white fur-lined hoods. They aimed their black FAMAS at the three. The two men and the woman raised their hands as the head of the Vulcan Station followed behind the Corporate Military men. He wore a white parka.

"Dr. John Gelid?" the older man questioned, wondering why they were being treated this way.

"Yes." The head of the facility offered his gloved hand and shook the older man's. "And you must be Dr. Robert Seeker." John motioned for the S.C.Ms. to proceed. "Scan them and make sure they are human and then search them and their things."

"What's the meaning of this?" Robert demanded as he and his companions lowered their hands.

John smiled, trying to reassure them. "Don't worry, Dr. Seeker, this is only a precaution. Of what we know, we are the only Factory facility still in operation." The wind whipped the brown fur of his hood. "We have to remain operational till the Sphinx Corporation Main Branch Office can send us in some support, and I'm sorry to say, but the T-3s are very clever."

An S.C.M. looked around skittishly. "One of those flipped out machines already tried to enter the station two days ago." He eyed the younger of the two men. "Now isn't a good day for taking in new recruits."

"Lieutenant Bentley!" John snapped. "I believe we have frightened our guests quite enough."

"You might run the station, Dr. Gelid, but security is my responsibility." Bentley walked over to the younger of the two men. "Who is this, Dr. Seeker?"

"My assistant Charles, Charles Smith. I vouch for him. He's worked with me for years."

Bentley snarled at the assistant. "I don't trust him, so he better be on his best behavior."

"What's this?" the other S.C.M. questioned the woman.

"A cigar box." She opened the ten-inch by ten-inch container. "Cubans. One of my vices."

The S.C.M. nodded, seeing the cigars. "All clear."

"Good, let's get out of this arctic air." John waved for the three arrivals to follow him in. "Dr. Seeker, you were supposed to be here days ago."

"Yes, I'm sorry." Robert paused to let the woman walk in before him. "There was a hold up getting a pilot and a helicopter to fly us down here."

The door slid shut once everyone was in, and Bentley locked the door and had the other S.C.M. guard the entrance.

"Well, we're glad to have you here. I hope our work can help Research Project Clean Air." John pushed down his hood, removed his mask, and unzipped his parka. He took off the coat, revealing he wore several layers of clothing. "You should find our ice core samples helpful in your research."

Everyone else removed their cold weather masks.

"It's what I'm hoping for." Robert unzipped his coat. "Since the cores contain climate records for almost a million years, I'm confident they will shed some light on the planet's Dry Cloud problem." He removed his gloves. "One thing we haven't been able to explain is why those born in the Dark Half and those that lived there several years can breathe the polluted air without some side effects. There are particles of petroleum and other harmful elements in the air, so why aren't traces of them found in the blood or lungs of the Dark Half's residents?" Robert scratched his head. "One of many puzzles like the biggest one of all. What caused the Dry Clouds? They appeared overnight. I guess we won't solve the mystery so quickly." Robert glanced around. "Where do we start?"

"Do you wish to rest or at least freshen up first?" John asked.

"No." Robert rubbed his hands together to warm them. "I would prefer to get to work."

"Right, then." John motioned to the lieutenant. "I'll have Bentley take your things to your rooms, and we can begin."

Robert nodded and said, "Stephanie."

The woman stepped forward. "Yes, Dr. Seeker."

"Go help the lieutenant."

She grabbed some of their suitcases and followed Bentley and once they were some distance down a hall, she asked, "Do you have much wildlife here? I didn't see a thing the helicopter ride over."

Bentley looked annoyed over his bellboy job. "Only the occasional lost Skua; it's a brown bird." He glanced at her. "Would there be an extra Cuban in that box of yours?"

"We'll see. Maybe one."

They turned a corner.

"This way Dr. Seeker and Mr. Smith." John walked down a hall, opposite the one the lieutenant went down. "The main lab is this way."

Before the men followed, a loud noise boomed from the entrance, and the S.C.M. guarding it turned, taking a few steps back as the large door shook. Something hit the entrance again, and the metal door vibrated, toppling ice to the floor. The third, fourth, and fifth hits smashed the side of the door, and the S.C.M. leaped back. Five T-3s stood outside, covered with snow and ice, and they held a six-foot battering ram, dropped it, and started through the opening. The S.C.M. shot, and the T-3s evaded his fire. He started to radio for help, but a T-3 shot him in the head.

"Run!" John shouted. "The T-3s have penetrated Vulcan Station!"
Chapter Fifty-six

The Takeover of Vulcan Station

Five T-3s smashed their way into the facility, and their searing scarlet dot-light glowed in the ice dust. Bentley and Stephanie ran back down the hall, joining the three men.

"Un-Men have broken in," Bentley radioed. "Security to the entrance." He opened fire. "Doctors, run!"

The three men and the woman rushed further into the station and soon, ten S.C.Ms. ran in, passed them, and opened fire on the T-3s. They managed to disable one of them but lost five of their own, and the remaining four T-3s marched forward.

"Fall back!" Bentley ordered, but before he or his men could react, a metal sphere the size of a golf ball rolled past him toward the T-3s. The sphere halted, glowed, and shrilled. Bentley turned. "A high impact grenade. Get down!"

The blast knocked the S.C.Ms. to the ground and destroyed the T-3s. Bentley peered up as the snow and ice settled. His body felt on fire, and he wasn't sure what had happened or who threw the grenade.

Stephanie walked past a pile of cigars she'd dropped to the floor. She had removed the Cubans to pull out the hidden explosive. Stephanie moved to Bentley's side, holding the empty cigar box in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. She placed the box on the ground, put the cigar in her mouth, and picked up an assault rifle from one of his dead men. Stephanie made her way to the T-3s and put a bullet in each of their foreheads and then returned to Bentley's side.

Blood trickled from his mouth as he started to question, "Why did you–"

"Shh..." She knelt beside him. "Quiet. The Un-Men are dead. Everything will be alright now."

"Why did you throw the grenade so close to us?" Bentley looked at the other S.C.Ms. "You should have waited till we were clear. You've killed them."

She lightly smacked him on the cheek twice. "I didn't want to waste the explosive only on the Un-Men. You know the saying, why drop one egg when you can drop two?"

"I don't understand," he said.

"Maybe you'll understand this..." Stephanie removed the cigar from her mouth and placed the Cuban in Bentley's. "One for the road." She stood and shot him in the heart then made her way to the remaining men.

"Oh, my Zeus! Stephanie, what have you done?" Robert questioned.

"What I was told." She grinned, aimed for Dr. Seeker, then changed aim, and shot Charles between the eyes, and the assistant slumped to the floor and then blood pooled around his face.

"Hades! She's here to destroy the station," John said, backing up against a wall. "I take it you work for the Council?"

"She's here to kill us?" Robert blurted and shook his head. "No, my work."

"Yes, I work for the Council," Stephanie answered. "And I'm here to secure Vulcan Station, but I'm not here to kill you two."

"You aren't going to kill us?" Robert sounded relieved.

"No." She motioned with her weapon for them to go into a small lab, and Stephanie closed and locked the door once they entered and then turned to them. "The Council said to leave you two alive, that your work could be valuable to them." She leaned the assault rifle against a wall and walked over to a table, and there she found a laser cutter that was used to slice the ice cores into pieces. She tested it on the table, and the laser burned small holes into the top. "But they said nothing about torture." Stephanie made her way to them.

"Be reasonable," John said. "If you hurt us, why would we work for the Council?"

"Fear," she answered.

"Fear?" Robert questioned.

"Yes, fear. Fear that I'll do it again if you do not do as the Council wishes." She turned the laser on them and seconds later, the men screamed as she began her fun.

* * *

Somewhere in Noir...

The Chamber...

"Cerberus has completed its mission," Ms. Nona reported. "With one test, Cerberus has surpassed Pandora."

"Yes, the new experiment did not hesitate to kill the S.C.Ms. or Charles Smith." Pleased by the outcome, Mr. Decuma smiled. "Cerberus did not disobey orders."

"Yes, a fitting first trial," Ms. Nona added.

"Pandora never disobeyed," Mr. Morta retorted. "We never gave it any orders but one. Stay alive, and that it did."

Mr. Decuma smacked his hand on the table. "You must admit it! Pandora is a failure!" He calmed himself. "It is time for its termination."

"Yes," Ms. Nona agreed. "And what better way than to have Cerberus kill Pandora. The test will prove the superiority of the new project."

Mr. Morta said, "I believe it is premature to eliminate Pandora. We can still learn–"

Mr. Decuma interrupted, "This time you have been outvoted."

"The first time this Council has not been of one mind," Ms. Nona said. "And hopefully the last."

"Pandora's fate is out of my hands." Mr. Morta nodded to an analyst. "Give Cerberus its orders. The new experiment is to find Pandora and report in."

The male analyst nodded and relayed the order.

Mr. Morta realized Pandora's era was coming to an end, and he hoped what little time she had been put to good use.
Chapter Fifty-seven

Prelude to:

Book Two

From Moscow, With Love

9:45 P.M...

Hellenistic Sector, Old Business Vicinage...

Nikolai and Natasha walked into Jack's Hard Luck Pawn; it was one of many dealers on Wayfaring Lane. They removed their Winnow Masks. The colossal man with a buzz cut wore a black trench coat, and he stood by the front door as his sister proceeded to the owner. Natasha waited till the only other customer left the shop.

With her heavy Russian accent, she started, "I heard you're the man to see." Natasha raked her hand through her long black hair.

"What are you looking for?" Jack lit a NicPhake cigarette and took a long drag as he looked her up and down. "Jewelry? Watches?"

"We're bird hunting," she replied.

"Bird hunting, you say?" Jack raised a gray eyebrow.

"Yes, a very rare bird."

"Rare? What are–"

Nikolai moved forward and interrupted the owner, "We arrived from Moscow, and Voice said you could help us."

"Puck... Why didn't you say so to begin with?" Jack waved for the two of them to join him behind the counter. "Come with me. I've got some stuff in the back that should be to your liking." He rang a buzzer at a door and waved at the security camera. "You guys look professional. You here to hit anyone I know?"

Natasha and her brother moved behind the counter and stood behind Jack.

She answered, "All you need to know is that a mistake was made."

Nikolai added, "And we are here to rectify it."

The door unlocked, and Jack proceeded in as they followed. Five rough looking men stood in the next room. Two hung out talking while the other three cleaned guns. The room fell silent as all five men watched the two outsiders enter.

Nikolai was impressed by their arsenal as he looked around. "You have enough weapons in here to supply a small army."

"Yeah." Jack puffed on the cigarette. "I inherited the place from my cousin, Wayne. He was well connected but couldn't keep his mouth shut. Pucking looser... His loose lips got him killed." He took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked white-pink ash in a Styrofoam cup of old coffee. "What do you need?"

Nikolai answered, "The guns are on this list."

"And throwing knives," Natasha interrupted her brother.

Jack took the list, looking it over. "This I can do." He pointed to two of his guys. "Get what they need." Jack handed the men the list, turned to a computer, and typed out an invoice.

The two men left and returned a few minutes later, and one of the men walked up to Natasha.

"Which one of these bad boys is for you, babe?" The man patted the guns. "By the way, the name's Ron."

"None of those." She studied the man that was about six inches taller than herself. "The knives are mine. They are my Sweets."

"Sweets, huh..." Ron handed them to her. "A fine babe like yerself likes to play with sharp things. You like to play with dangerous things. How about we step out for a little while? I'll show you something dangerous and maybe something a little sweet."

Nikolai moved toward the man, and Nikolai stated, "She is not interested."

Natasha said nothing, knowing what was coming. She removed her white fur-lined black coat, revealing tight-fitting red leather pants, vest, and boots. Natasha placed the coat on the back of a chair and inserted a set of throwing knives in a sheath around each wrist.

"You her boyfriend?" he asked the Closer.

"No," Nikolai replied. "I am her brother."

"Stay out of this then," Ron said. "It's none of your business."

Natasha almost felt sorry for the man. If Ron had dropped it, her brother might have only punched him in the mouth.

Nikolai controlled his anger. "She is not interested in the likes of you."

Ron jabbed his finger into the colossal man's chest. "You're her brother, not her mother. Let the babe decide."

Jack hit the print button on the computer for the invoice. "Don't do anything stupid, Ron."

"I know what I'm doing." Ron caressed her butt. "What do you say, babe?"

The veins in Nikolai's neck bulged with fury, and his eyes went wild like a mad grizzly bear and with one massive hand, the Russian reached out, grabbed the man by the throat, and choked him. The other men in the room drew their weapons and aimed at the siblings. Ron pulled a Glock 19, and Nikolai grabbed his wrist and squeezed it till Ron released the gun, and it hit the floor.

"Wait!" Jack cried out to his men and motioned with his hands. "Put your guns down." Sweat beaded his face, fearing the situation would get out of hand. "You don't know who these two are. If Voice sent them... Well... They'll kill you." He swallowed hard. "Puck! They'll kill all of us."

His men reluctantly complied as Nikolai continued to choke Ron. Natasha put her coat back on.

"You do not touch my sister in an impertinent way. No one treats my sister that way."

The man clawed Nikolai's arm, unable to breathe, and his eyes bugged out.

"Please, be reasonable," Jack pleaded. "Puck, let him go, and he can apologize."

"No." Nikolai squeezed harder, and the veins in his hand bulged. "I warned him, so I offer no mercy."

Natasha walked over to her brother and rubbed her hand up and down his back. She moved to Ron, leaned to him, and whispered in his ear, "From Moscow, with love." Natasha nodded to her brother, and Nikolai forcibly turned the man's head toward her. She French kissed Ron as he clawed at her brother's arm. She finished, stepped back, and said, "We will have to write up extra paperwork on your death, but I am pleased and that will make it worth it."

Ron's eyes rolled back, and Nikolai released his corpse, then reached down, and picked up the Glock 19. "His weapon is now mine." He tucked the gun into the back waistband of his pants.

Natasha looked down at the dead man and smiled. "You had asked me a question. You wanted to know what I say. I say you should have listened to my brother." She turned to Jack. "How much do we owe you for the weapons?"

Unable to say anything as he stared at the dead man, Jack handed her the invoice with a shaky hand.

She stated, "Voice will have the funds in your account by tonight."

Still shocked, Jack nodded.

Natasha and her brother headed out with the guns in two large duffle bags and once they were outside, they put their Winnow Masks on and checked the streets for police. They placed the duffle bags in the trunk of their black Cadillac. He unzipped one, removed a case, and opened the container.

"Finally, I have Tommy." Nikolai smoothed his hand across a machine gun. "And I can be the Hood I dreamed of being."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever makes you happy. Now come and let us be on our way."

He put the machine gun back and within a few minutes, they got into the car and took off their masks. Nikolai removed the trophy he took off of Ron and placed the Glock 19 in the glove box.

"Let us hurry with our assignment." Natasha glanced out the passenger side window at the darkness surrounding the city. "I grow to hate this place."

Her brother pulled the car out into traffic. "Our final task is four days away and once we have killed the Phoenix, we can leave Noir."

"Voice is as forgiving as you, my brother. Voice must never be crossed."

"Yes," her brother agreed. "We must always complete our assignments with no hesitation and with no remorse. Our hearts must not rule our minds or our actions. In our line of business, it can only bring death."

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