Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #2 – "Born to be Killed" ❯ Chapter 3 - “Didn’t We Already Go Through This Already?” ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

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Chapter 3 - “Didn’t We Already Go Through This Already?”

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The car that pulled into the parking lot next to the converted warehouse was a tired-looking machine that looked to be about two steps from the scrapheap. Rust and dents fought with the car’s original light blue color for dominance and the entropy was winning. The only unusual thing about the car on a visual inspection was the tinted windows that made looking inside the car impossible.

In reality, there was nothing wrong with the car. Anyone who looked inside would see a sophisticated dashboard and interior that didn’t come close to matching the exterior. The engine was a powerful one, giving the car incredible speed, and it had a race car-quality suspension that made handling a breeze. Any expert who looked closely at the car would think it was an N-police unmarked car, used by undercover detectives in the line of duty.

They would be wrong.

Just as they would be wrong about the driver, who stepped from the car. If any of the other women in the Knight Sabers saw the way Sylia Stingray was dressed and looked right now, they would be shocked. Always well and fashionably dressed, the jeans and blouse she wore made he look almost grubby in comparison to her normal appearance. She pulled the sunglasses she wore down in order to eye the building.

“I hear the businesses are doing well,” said Mackie. He went around to the trunk and unlocked it. “Do you want me to go up with you, or check Splinter’s lair first?”

‘Splinter’s lair’ was the nickname for the emergency base under the building. Built by the Yakuza about forty years ago for their own use, it was now set up as an auxiliary base for the Knight Sabers in case the Silky Doll and Raven’s Garage were compromised. Craig had given it the nickname when the base went on-line, and had spent the rest of the day calling Nene ‘Donatello’, Linna ‘Michelangelo’, Priss ‘Raphael’, and Sylia, ‘Leonardo’. It was only after Nene, Linna, and Priss had cornered him and asked him about it did he talk about an old TV series about martial-arts mutant turtles. After some mild ‘persuasion’ from the women, he stopped with the nicknames for the women, but ‘Splinter’s lair’ stuck as the nickname for the base.

“I want to talk to Craig alone,” Sylia replied. “Come up when you’re done.”

“Okay.” Mackie took a small and a large case out of the truck and followed his sister to the security door. She dial in her security code, waited for it to unlock, then went inside, Mackie right behind her.

One of the K-9 boomers came out of the garage’s gloom and approached them. Each held out a hand for the guard dog to sniff. Once it had done that, it took several steps back and sat down.

“And hello to you too, Zhukov,” said Sylia, sounding amused. “Is Craig in?”

The dog’s eyes glowed briefly, then nodded. It then looked at Mackie.

“Hi, Zhukov,” the younger Stingray, trying to sound casual. “How are you doing?” Again, Zhukov’s eyes glowed slightly. Another shadow slunk out of the gloom and joined the first guard dog.

“Hello, Montgomery,” said Sylia. “Is Craig treating you all right?” The second K-9 nodded once. “Let’s get going.”

Mackie went into the elevator first, accompanied by Zhukov. Montgomery stayed with Sylia and went with in into the elevator with her when it returned. They rode up in silence, the K-9 accepting a healthy scratch behind it’s ears from Sylia. The doors open and Sylia stepped out into the alcove.

The first thing she heard was something going ‘thunk!’. She turned in time to see something flash across the training area and hit something attached to the wall a few meters away. “Craig?” she said, careful to stay where she was.

“Sylia?” A male voice said.

She stepped out into the training area. Craig was standing there, with the usual expression he had when something unexpected came up – puzzled surprise. He was wearing a T-shirt, sweatpants, and slippers, he hadn’t shaved, and his hair was uncombed. He was holding several somethings in his hands. The other two K-9s, Rommel and Patton were lying on the mat behind and to one side of Craig, watching their owner through half closed eyes.

Craig’s expression was even more puzzled as he saw what she was wearing. “What’s up?’ he asked.

“I needed to talk to you, and since you won’t leave this fortress of yours during the day, I–“

”You could have asked,” Craig said. “I would have come to you.”

“Under the circumstances, it’s better that you stay out of sight. I wanted to see you in your natural environment. Also, Mackie wanted to check Splinter’s lair to make sure there’s no problems. He’s down there right now. Zhukov’s with him.”

“All right.” Craig looked over at the two K-9s. “Patton,” he said. “Guard duty downstairs with Montgomery until Zhukov comes back. Go.”

The boomer in question rose to its feet and started for the elevator, Montgomery following. As they got close to the elevator, Sylia head the doors open she glanced back at Craig. “Each of the dogs has a transmitter attuned to a CPU on the elevator. It allows them to used the elevator without any humans to help them. He waved towards the area when Rommel was still lying down. “Could you please come and stand over near me? I need to continue my practicing.”

“What are you doing?” Sylia asked, walking over so she was standing near Craig.

With a flourish, Craig held up a steel star. “Working on my throwing arm.”

“A shiriken?”

“Actually, about a dozen of them.” With a snap of his arm, he threw the weapon across the room when it struck a life-size cut-out of Brian J. Mason in the right knee. Several others were already stuck in the cardboard in a random manner. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“You realize that you’re becoming just like Mason,” she said. “You’re becoming obsessive with him.”

“What...” He threw another star at the target, missing Mason’s left ear by several centimeters “...Makes you think...” another star hit the picture of Mason in the right hand. "...I’m becoming obsessive...” Still another star skipped off the cardboard and fell on the floor, where it joined several others already there. “...with that two-bit thug?” The last star flew true and hit the cut-out in the nose.

“You just finished throwing a dozen shirikens into Mason’s image,” Sylia replied.

“And missing with most of them,” Craig said, walking towards the target.

“That’s not the point. I know that you’ve agreed not to launch any more of these pranks on Mason, but I think you should cease thinking about new things to harass him with for the next several months.”

Craig reached down and picked up the shirikens that were on the floor. “Can you afford to have him breathing down you neck?”

“I can handle him.”

“So you keep saying.” Craig removed the stars from the life-size cut-out and walked back towards Sylia.

“I don’t need a protector.”

“You need someone to distract Mason while you work your magic.”

Sylia arched an eyebrow. “And you have been more successful than I ever imagined. But, that’s the problem. Mason is now angry to the point that he’s liable to strike without warning. As much as I want to see that bastard suffer, I can’t afford to have Mason attack us just to satisfy his need for revenge.”

“Or my ego?”

“There is that.”

Craig took a deep breath. “Would you like to sit down and discuss this?” he asked, motioning towards the rest of the apartment. “I have a pot of tea brewing.”

“I think that would be a good idea.”

They went into the apartment, Rommel trailing after them. Sylia took a seat in the living area, while Craig went and got the tea. After he poured two cups, Craig slumped into another chair, Rommel laying next to him. “Is this when you start chewing me out?”

“I am not here to chew you out,” Sylia replied after taking a sip of tea. “You are proving to be a great asset to the team. You allow me to have greater tactical flexibility on missions, and the base downstairs is a welcome addition to our resources. With the exceptions of your.... argument with Mason and your habit of spending most of your time here, I would say Ishmael made an excellent choice.”

“Why don’t I feel that way?”

“Because you don’t have confidence in your skills. Your have made great strides since we first met. You have proven you can handle a hardsuit, and that you can work with us on missions. You bring a certain way of thinking to this line of work that’s different, and you think of the team first. You are even having a steadying influence on Mackie by showing him how to be a gentleman.”

“Does that mean I have to give up my porno magazine collection?” asked Craig with a smirk.

“You don’t have a porno magazine collection,” replied Sylia, her tone slightly cool, but there was a hint of a smile in her eyes. “But back to what we were discussing. The psychological campaign against Mason that you came up with has managed to give me time to put several plans into place, time I needed. But it’s clear we’re reaching the point of diminishing returns with the pranks and mischiefs. I want you to leave Mason alone for now. No new pranks, no more embarrassing incidents. We need Mason a bit less angry for the next several months until we’re ready to move against him.”

“Any when will that be?”

“I’m not certain. I don’t know how badly the events at Aqua City altered the timeline.”

“We know Mason doesn’t have the Black box.”

“Not a complete one,” Sylia replied. “But I don’t know if Largo managed to convince Mason to have a back up plan in place.”

“We’ve delay them for a while in any case, right? If they don’t have the Black box, they can’t just plug it into the superboomer, right?”

“We don’t know how much of the data GENOM had before this all happened. They might be closer then we think.”

Craig rubbed his forehead. “I am beginning to hate the subject of time travel and all that entails.”

“We will leave that for another time,” said Sylia. “I am here to discuss our next moves. Linna came by the Silky Doll yesterday to buy some things for Irene Can’s bridal shower.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that you reacted to Irene’s name yesterday..”

Craig took a sip of his tea. “Damn. I was hopping she wouldn’t notice.”

“She did and she wanted to know what was wrong.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her enough of the truth to satisfy her for now. But I don’t know what Mason’s next step is.”

“That makes two of us.”

“The first thing we need to do is find out if Mason has the data to construct a black box and how long it would take for him to have one built.”

“And whether or not he’s doing this behind Quincy’s back.”

Sylia nodded. She suddenly saw a gleam in Craig’s eye. “What is it?’ she asked carefully. She’d seen that gleam before....

“A way of making Mason’s life miserable that doesn’t involve the Knight Sabers directly or childish pranks.”

“And how is that?”

“Have you looked over the stuff in Mason’s hard drives yet?”

“I looked over some of the data,” she replied. “There’s some interesting things there, but it going to take some time to explore all the data.”

“Is there anything on there that would make Quincy upset?”

“There are a couple of items I glanced over. Why?”

“Mason is such a danger because of his position at GENOM. The pranks have gone a long way to undermine his image inside the company, but what if Mason had to spend more time shielding himself from serious internal investigations? I have no doubt that Quincy is only giving Mason enough rope so our ‘esteemed assistant to the Chairman’ can hang himself.”

“No doubt.”

“But what if Quincy found out there was some evidence that Mason’s plans were more extensive then he thought? That he was funneling GENOM’s money into private projects? Wouldn’t he try to find out exactly what was going on, and wouldn’t Mason have to take time to try and cover his tracks?”

Sylia arched an eyebrow. “You may have something there.”

Craig leaned forward. “If we can make sure the right people in GENOM get some information about Mason’s plans, they can do all the hard, visible work while we nudge them ever so often in the right direction with bits of data from Mason’s own files. In short, we turn GENOM against Mason.”

Sylia leaned back in her chair, managing to still look cool and elegant despite not being dressed in her usual fashion. “Interesting,” she said.

“Most of the people who work at GENOM have no idea what Mason is up to. If they found evidence that one of the senior management staff was working the company for his own profit, wouldn’t they dig to find out more?”

“They may. But Mason could squash any investigation.”

“Not is it was ordered by the Chairman himself.”

“And how do you propose to have Quincy order such an investigation?”

“I haven’t worked out the details yet.”

Sylia nodded. “That does have some merit. I will put the plan into motion. I have the contacts and I’ll decide what data to give them.”

“But –“

”But nothing.” Sylia took another sip of tea. “It’s time to leave Mason to me. I have another assignment for you.”

“What?”

“I need you to follow Irene’s fiancee.”

Craig blinked at her. “Who is he?”

“According to Linna, it’s a Jeremy Kwan.”

“That sounds simple. There must be at least three thousand ‘Jeremy Kwans’ in the city, maybe more.”

“I have Nene putting together an information packet on the right one. You’ll have it this afternoon.”

“Good,” Craig replied, “because I have to go out tonight and meet Leon with some more snippets of data.”

“I see. You’re not talking to him about Priss, are you?”

“Nope. I can see he’s interested in her, but me trying to advise Leon about Priss is like.... well, me trying to advise Priss how to sing, Nene how to hack, or you on how to build a hardsuit.”

“What’s Priss’ reaction to him?”

“You’re asking me?” Craig threw his free hand into the air. “All I know is that she hasn’t shot him yet. Does that mean she likes him? Maybe. Or maybe she’s been out of bullets when they meet. I don’t ask those type of questions or stick my nose into my teammates’ personal businesses.”

“Fair enough.”

“I hope you’re not asking me to keep an eye on them, because I won’t do it.”

Sylia looked at him, surprise on her face. “What makes you think I would do that?”

“Because of rule....whatever. ‘Do not become involved with a man,’ I think it is.”

“I am concerned about McNichol’s position in the ADP.”

“So?” Craig didn’t look angry, but he didn’t sound happy. “Have Nene keep an eye out for any funny business between Leon and Priss. She’s in a better position than me anyway.”

Sylia sighed. “I am not asking anyone to spy on anyone else. Priss is a big girl. She can take care of herself. And I know Leon has a genuine interest in her.”

“Good. She needs someone in her life who isn’t connected to the Sabers.”

“I’m glad that’s settled. Getting back to your meeting with Leon, what are you planing to give him?”

“Mason’s name for one.” At Sylia’s disapproving look, Craig held up a hand. “Just the name and some genuine rumors. Leon knows he can’t get close to Mason at this time, but I’ll make sure to tell him that Mason is a dangerous son of a bitch, and not to push the issue at this time. It’s called laying groundwork for later on.”

Sylia nodded. “I don’t think you can tell him much more about the black box.”

“This will be it....but....” Craig looked thoughtful.

“What is it now?” Sylia asked.

“Suppose I put a bug in Leon’s ear about Irene and her fiance? At the right time, of course.”

Sylia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m planning to feed enough info to Leon on Mason’s activities for him to start putting together a case against Mason. If we couple this ADP investigation with GENOM’s own, we should be able to put enough pressure on Mason to keep him distracted.”

“That could be dangerous for Leon. GENOM has spies inside the ADP.”

“I know. Still, we might be able to work things so anything that GENOM gets from the ADP only reenforces the appearance Mason’s is playing real dirty pool. Who is the most likely person to see anything from the ADP?”

“Madigan. She handles the intelligence and security matters for GENOM.”

“Is she a friend of Mason’s?”

Sylia shook her head. “Her one loyalty is to GENOM. She’s hard, ruthless, but she is loyal. Besides, Quincy likes playing off his special assistants for his own amusements. Keeps them on their toes, plus it keeps them from forming an alliance against the Chairman.”

“Is Madigan liable to be the one that will handle an investigation against Mason?”

“She is.”

“Good.”

Sylia leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”

“What would the deposition of a technician involved in the superboomer project be worth in a case like that, especially with the technician dead in a mysterious explosion just a day after the testimony was recorded?”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

Craig shrugged. “Record the testimony after we rescued the lovebirds from their foreordained deaths. We hide the identity from Leon and everyone else, hack a few records to muddy the trail, and leave enough solid bread crumbs to point at Mason .”

“I will have to think about that,” Sylia replied. “Coming up with ideas off the top of your head is fine, and you definitely have enough of an imagination to do it, but you’re not looking at the consequences. This entire situation with Irene and Jeremy is already very complex, and the last thing we need is another complication. So, just so we are clear, you are not to mention anything to Leon about Irene, Jeremy, the Superboomer project, or Mason’s connection to it, Understood?”

“Understood boss. Nothing about ‘Born to Kill’ is to be mentioned to Leon without your say so.”

“Good,” Sylia replied. “Now that’s settled, I wanted to talk to you about your hardsuit.”

“What about my hardsuit?”

“After looking over you suit’s telemetry after Aqua City, I have to agree with you about your suit’s selection of weapons. While the sniper rifle and cannon are excellent systems, the close quarters and fast moving boomers in Aqua City made it almost useless in a running battle like that. We need to find another weapon system to supplement the existing systems you have.”

It was Craig’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Are you changing my role?”

“Not exactly. I still want to use you as long range support, but I want you to have the flexibility, should such a situation arise again.”

Craig nodded, and put down his tea cup. “All right, Here’s as I see it. This weapon system you’re talking about needs to be something I can snap fire, that is, a weapon I can fire with having to aim exactly. It needs to have good penetration, which I ‘ll take over range. It has to be energy based or with enough ammo for a long fight, and it had to be something I can move and fire at will with. Make sense?”

Sylia nodded. “Any suggestions?”

“Off the top of my head?” Craig closed his eyes. “Let’s see...multi-barreled chain gun?”

“Ammo intensive,” Sylia replied. “Plus it may not have the penetration power you need.”

“Fine. About a PPC?”

“PPC?”

“Particle Projection Cannon. Sort of like a man-portable particle beam weapon.”

“Something like you describe is a bit beyond current technology, plus it could play havoc with your hardsuit’s electronics.”

Craig opened his eyes to look at her. “This isn’t easy.”

“I know.”

He sighed and closed his eyes again. “How about a laser rifle?”

“That’s possible.”

“Good.” There was silence for a moment, then Craig said, “What about an souped up needle gun?”

“Like Priss’?”

“Yes. A bit larger, more powerful, larger ammo load. Use the same type of needles that Priss uses in her hardsuit. Rotating multi-barrels maybe?”

“That may be somewhat complex. How about a just multiple barrels around a central core? Each barrel has it’s own power supply and magazine.”

“That sounds good. Grenade launcher?”

Sylia shook her head. “Too dangerous. If a shot penetrates the magazine, it could kill you easily. Besides, Grenades are not that useful against Boomers.”

“But that could be useful against humans,” Craig replied. “Especially if the grenade selection was things line flash-bang, tear gas, or smoke.”

“I will think about that. Anything else?”

Craig was silent for a moment, eyes closed, leaning back in his chair. “I think my Motorslave could use a heavier cannon then the others.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s a heavier model then the others, and can take the extra weight and recoil. Besides, I think we could use the extra firepower for the upcoming events.”

“I hope you’re not talking about a cannon like the anti-tank BU-12s have.”

“That’s a bit extreme,” Craig replied blandly. “I was actually thinking of taking a page from Skyknight.”

Sylia leaned forward. “In what way?”

“Remember that shoulder cannon he came up with? The one that fired those fin-stabilized bolts?”

The Knight Saber’s leader nodded. “You want something bigger for the motorslave.”

“Exactly. We can either make the bolts bigger, or keep the same size bolts and make the weapon like a multi-barrel gattling gun.”

“That could be messy, especially when civilians are around.”

“I’m just throwing out ideas. It’s up to you to tell me I’m off base.”

“You’re off base,” said Sylia with a straight face. “At least with the multi-barrel idea. A rifle firing a larger bolt might be more feasible. We would first have to work out the power needs for a weapon like that.”

“We could incorporate a power pack into the magazine to ease the power drain on the motorslave if we need to.”

Sylia nodded. “I’ll give that serious consideration. Anything else?”

“Nothing comes to mind right now,” he said.

“Fine,” Sylia replied, standing up. “I think it’s time I left. Mackie should be close to finishing his check of the lair.”

“Don’t go so soon,” Craig said, standing. “Relax for a couple of minutes. Sit down and talk.”

“About what?”

“About anything but the Sabers. What are you hopes and dreams, er... what do you think of last night’s baseball game, I don’t care. Just sit down and talk to me for a while, all right?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I want to find out if there’s a real person under that exterior. I’m going slightly crazy here, and want some else to talk to for a while. Every time we talk these days, it’s related to the Sabers. Is there someone else besides the cool commander inside that skin of yours?”

Sylia frowned, trying to follow Craig’s train of thought. She presumed she had it, but with Craig, it was hard to tell sometimes if even he was following his own train of thought. “You want to just talk?”

“Yes. Is something wrong with that?”

“Depends on why you want to talk.”

Craig’s expression was one of puzzlement. “Huh?”

“I don’t think you and I have a lot in common.”

“So? I don’t have that many things in common with any of the other Sabers.”

“You can talk to Linna about Martial Arts, Nene about computers, Priss about....” She frowned, then went on. “...and Mackie about guy things. I’m afraid I’m not that interested in professional sports, movies, televison, reading fiction, or most ordinary things.”

“Oh.” Craig sounded disappointed. He took a large mouthful of tea.

“I’m not the character you’ve read about.” Sylia kept her face impassive as she said, “For example, Overstreet and Mann were completely –“ She stopped as tea came out of Craig’s nose as he tried not to drown at the unexpected name dropping. He coughed repeatedly like a man drowning in liquor, forcing Sylia to stand and thump him on the back several times. He didn’t see Sylia smiling, as he was too busy trying to clear his lugs of the tea he’d breathed in..

After a couple of minutes, Craig managed to glared at Sylia. “You read them?” he asked. “You actually read Bubblegum Pink: Raging Fires?”

“As a matter of course,” she replied, her expression neutral, but internally pleased with his reaction. She walked back to her chair and stood next to it. “Some authors have a very vivid... imagination. I deleted them after I read them.”

“Thank god for small favors. The last thing we need is Mackie to read them.”

“I also read your own fanfiction, Black Knights, Steel Hearts, or what there was of it.”

Craig went pale. “Don’t tell me your opinion,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want to know.”

Sylia raised an eyebrow. “All right. But will you answer me one question?”

“What?”

“In your story, why did you think I needed a fiancé in that story?”

“Because I’m a sucker for a happy ending. If it’s any comfort, he doesn’t marry you...er, the Sylia in that story.”

The leader of the Knight Sabers nodded. “Why did you give him that type of a background?”

“Because I needed a character that would be someone you – er, that Sylia would find as an equal.”

“Indeed?” Sylia’s eyebrows went up. “And what makes you think I would find such a man attractive?”

Craig’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Er....um...ah...er.....Lucky guess?”

Sylia chuckled softly. “I’ll take that as a complement. I can see why you think Nene and Mackie might make a nice couple, the same for Priss and Leon, but what about Linna?”

“That is a secret,” replied Craig loftily. “I may be stuck here, but I’m not giving up any of the surprises in my writings.”

Sylia smiled. “I think I know who, but that can wait. I think Mackie is on his way up.”

Craig glanced in the direction of the elevator he now hear. It stopped and Mackie walked out, trailed by Zhukov. “All done!” he announced. “The lair is ready to go.”

“We’d better get going,” said Sylia. “Remember, we have a training session tomorrow night, seven o’clock, at Raven’s. Don’t be late.”

“Me?” asked Craig innocently.

Sylia sighed. “Just be there.”

Craig stood. “I’ll see you to the door.”

“There’s no need,” said Sylia. “Mackie and I can find the door all right.”

“I insist. You are in my home, and are my guests. The least I can do is to make sure you get to car all right. Consider it an eccentricity of mine.”

“You mean another eccentricity,” said Mackie with a grin.

Craig waved a hand in the air. “Details, details. Let’s go.”

*****

The area under Raven’s Garage was used as a training/testing facility for the Knight Sabers. The sessions were held at irregular intervals, though most of the time, it was about once every two weeks. Craig knew it well, havening spent a sizeable chunk of time here in the early days.

It was near a quarter to seven when a large black motorcycle slowed and turned into the garage. A older man with a shock of grey hair looked up from the workbench as the rider killed the motorcycle’s engine and put the kickstand down. “Good evening, Craig.”

The rider removed his helmet. “Hey there, Doctor,” Craig replied. “How’s it going?”

“Oh fine,” Raven replied. The two of them weren’t close friends, but they got along all right.

“Mackie hide any new cameras in the girl’s changing room lately?” Craig asked, as he got off the bike. The bike itself looked a lot like his motorslave, only it was exactly what it appeared to be – a large motorcycle, painted black.

“Nope. I guessed your last idea scared him.”

“Figures. That purple dinosaur would scare anyone -- he certainly scares me. But it’s better to replace the vidtape in the camera with that kid’s show then to watch the poor boy suffer when the girls got hold of him.”

Raven nodded. “True, true. They can be quite inventive at times.”

“Is everyone else here?”

“Priss isn’t, and neither is Linna. The rest are downstairs.”

“Okay. Thanks, Doctor.”

Craig headed for the back of the garage. A flight of stairs took him down to a door with a keypad next to it. He tapped in a code and the door opened. A short corridor took him to the main testing room. The room was large and crammed with equipment that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the set of a Star Trek series. A window in the far wall overlooking the fight simulator chamber. Sylia, wearing a lab coat, was checking several gauges on a console then noting something on an electronic clipboard. Nene stood in a corner, already changed into her testing suit, looking nervous.

“Hey, Craig!’ Nene chirped, flashing him a quick smile.

“Hey Red!’ Craig replied. “How’s the ADP treating you?”

“The same as always,” Nene replied with a shrug. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.

“I’m surprised you’re here before me,” Craig continued. “You must have left early in the morning to get here on that scooter.”

Nene pouted.. “You’re getting as bad as Priss.”

“I should hope not. I like being able to see what I’m passing, plus I hate sonic booms.”

Sylia glanced up. “Go get dressed.”

Craig tossed her a salute. “Okay, Boss,” he said cheerfully, and went into the changing room.

“He seems cheerful,” said Nene after Craig had disappeared.

Sylia went back to looking at the controls. “I think he’s happy to get out as himself. With Mason looking for him, when he goes out, he’s usually disguised.”

Nene shuddered. “I don’t know if I could live like that. Hiding and not being able to go wherever I wanted to.”

“Craig’s handling it for now,” Sylia replied.

“But for how much longer?”

“I don’t know. Has Leon done anything unusual lately?”

Nene frowned, surprised at the sudden shift in topics. “What do you mean?”

“Has he been doing any private investigations?”

“Well, he did have me pull up an old case of his from his N-Police days.”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“What sort of case?”

“Some motorcyclist was gunned down on the highway. I didn’t really read it.”

“I see,” Sylia replied. “When you go to work, I think you should pull it up and read it.”

“Why?”

“Because –“

Priss chose that moment to stalk in, looking angry. She glared at the others, then went into the changing room before either Nene or Sylia could stop her.

“Priss!” Nene yelled, but it was too late....

There was a squawk of surprise, then several seconds of silence, then Priss reappeared, red-faced, and wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you tell me Craig was in there?” she demanded.

“You never gave us a chance,” Sylia replied, sounding faintly amused.

“I tried to warn you....” said Nene weakly.

“Keep that ape woman out of here!” Craig yelled from inside the dressing room.

Priss turned and started for the dressing room again. “Listen, jerk! You don’t have anything I haven’t see before!”

“Then why did you stand there with your mouth open for as long as you did? Getting a refresher course?”
Priss stopped dead. “Now wait a minute!” she roared.

“I didn’t walk in on you, did I?”

“That’s not the point!”

“That’s exactly the point!” Craig walked out of the dressing room, adjusting the testing suit as he did so. He looked embarrassed and angry. “I don’t just walk into the dressing area. I call out to make sure I don’t walk in on any of you.”

“I’m sorry, all right?” Priss shouted. “I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you,” said Craig stiffly.

“What’s going on?” Linna asked, walking into the room.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Priss and Craig chorused.

Linna blinked. “What did I miss?”

“Priss walked in on Craig while he was dressing,” said Nene, which earned her a pair of scowls from the people she named.

“Oh?” Linna looked interested.

Craig looked at her. “Don’t say a word,” he said softly, “or I will be forced to hurt you.”

“No problem,” Linna replied. She leaned over to Priss. “We’ll talk later,” she said in a low voice. Both Priss and Craig became flush in the face.

“Say a word, Priss,” Craig growled, “and I’ll make sure Leon gets some candid shots of you in the shower.”

Before Priss could open her mouth, Sylia stepped in. “You can continue this discussion later. Linna, Priss, get dressed. Craig, you’re up first in the fight simulator.”

Trading glares, Craig headed towards the fight chamber while Priss grabbed Linna and went into the dressing room. Ignoring the giggling Nene, Craig entered the empty chamber. He loosened up with some stretching and a few kicks and punches. Once that was done, He stepped into a fighting stance and nodded towards the window.

“All right,” said Sylia over the loudspeaker. “Let’s start of level four and work up. You have three targets and two minutes to hit them. Starting....now.”

A semi-clear blob formed in the center of the chamber, and began moving. Craig, moving on the balls of his feet, kept a constant distance. The session was underway.

The fight simulator was Craig’s least favorite training activity, a point that Sylia was well aware of. I’m not a gymnast, he told Sylia after a particularly embarrassing session. I don’t do cartwheels, and I couldn’t do a backflip if I tried.

It’s more then just dodging attacks, the leader of the Knight Sabers had told him cooly. It’s an exercise in combining attack and defense into one movement. You know the boomers are faster and stronger than humans. The hardsuits narrow that distance, but we have to rely on our training and knowledge to beat them.

But I’m not Linna! My fighting style is heavy firepower, backed up by strength and power. If I have to face off against a boomer in hand to hand, I am not going to make like Olga Korbitt!

I’m not asking you to be as good as Linna in acrobatics. I want you to be able to avoid attacks and strike at a weak point when it’s exposed. Linna’s fighting style is tailored to her strengths, as yours will be. End of argument.

And so, Craig was in here again. Level one had embarrassed him, and it took two weeks to beat it. Level two took a week to master, as did level three. He’d beaten level four just before he gotten his hardsuit, and he’d mastered level five shortly after that. Level six was eluding him at the current time, but he’d come close a couple of times recently.

The blob shot a tendril at Craig’s head. He ducked, then spun to his left to avoid two more tendrils the blob fire at him. A small ball of light blinked into existence inside the blob and Craig fired a kick at it as soon as he saw it. There was a buzzer, and Sylia said over the loudspeaker. “Nine seconds. Second phase begins...now.”

*****

Ten minutes later, Craig walked out of the simulator, covered in sweat and looking tired. Nene gave him a towel and a squirt bottle. “Thanks,” he said.

Sylia looked at him. “Not bad. You cleared level six with three seconds to spare.”

“I was lucky,” Craig grunted.

“Nene, you’re up next.” The redhead, looking like she was on her way to her execution, grimly marched into the chamber.

Craig glanced over at Priss and Linna. The pair were now dressed in their testing suits, waiting for their turn. “Any comments, Teacher?” he asked Linna.

“Not really,” Linna replied, looking cheerful. “You’ll never make an Olympic gymnast, but you’re showing some improvement in your dodging ability.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I want to talk to you,” said Priss. She didn’t look happy.

“About what? I hope it isn’t about what you saw in the changing room.”

Priss’ face darken in anger, but before she could say anything, Sylia, not looking up from the screens in front of her said, “Craig. Strength machine - now.”

“Right ho, Boss,” Craig said, walking towards the machine, leaving Priss red-faced.

*****

“Irene?”

Irene Can looked up from her plate and at her fiancé. “What?”

“Are you all right? You seem out of it.”

Irene shook her head. She was a petite girl, with brown hair and eyes that made her look a couple of years younger then she actually was. She shrugged. “I’m a bit tired.”

Jeremy Kwan smiled at her. Despite being four years older then Irene, he also looked younger then his age. He had dark, wavy hair, a small nose, strong jaw, and blue eyes that had captivated Irene from the beginning. “Why don’t you take a day off? Surely you can skip one day’s worth of classes.”

She smiled back at him. He knew her as Irene Cann, Freshman at the University of MegaTokyo, and part-time teaching assistant. He didn’t know Irene Chang, granddaughter of Dr. Chang Chongk, heir to the power of the Hou Bang, and younger sister of Reika Chang, known to the world as the singer Vision. And if she was lucky, he never would. She didn’t want to involve him in the world she had grown up in, the world she had tried so hard to get away from.

Her decision to leave the cocoon of the Hou Bang hadn’t been easy or quick. Several months had passed as she struggled with her choice she wanted for her future. Finally, it was the growing feeling of being trapped into a life she wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of that pushed her towards this conclusion. This type of life had already robbed her and Reika of their parents, and she didn’t want to be forced into the same life. Reika had found her escape through her music, but Irene was determined to find her own way in this world. So, she announced that she was going to MegaTokyo University for her college degree.

To say that her decision to go to MegaTokyo University was not well received by her family was an understatement. There was nothing wrong with the University itself -- it was considered one of the best colleges on the planet. But neither Reika nor their grandfather had wanted to accept her choice to leave the protection of the Hou Bang. Reika had come around quicker then Grandfather had, but it had taken some time and a lot of talking by Irene to convince both of them.

She had tried to cut all ties to her grandfather’s organization, but her grandfather, not happy but respecting her decision to leave, had put his foot down at complete separation. He would pay the rent on her apartment, the cost of her college tuition, and give her enough to live on comfortably while she was in school, or else she could not go. She accepted the money grudgingly, but the cost of living in the city made the funds necessary. She made a few friends, but there had been no steady boyfriends, no romance in her life. But then, she had met Jeremy....

They had met on a blind date arranged by a classmate nearly six months ago. He was just out of college, and had just started working for one of GENOM’s subsidiaries. They had hit it off immediately. When he discovered that she was brand new in town, he offered to show her some of the sights. That had lead to regular dates, then to Jeremy’s proposal two months ago.

“Earth to Irene,” said Jeremy, waving a hand in front of her face.

“Huh?”

He laughed. “You’re zoning out on me.”

She looked out the window. The restaurant they were in was near the top of the fifth tallest building in the city, so they both had a magnificent view of the city’s night. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“Is everything all right?” he asked in concern.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied

“Why do you ask that?”

She looked at him. “You’ve been a bit distant yourself lately.”

He shrugged. “Work’s a bit rough right now. The boss is a bastard, and the project is behind schedule.”

Irene saw the opening and she went for it. “What exactly is your job at GENOM?”

Jeremy frowned. “I told you, I’m an engineer doing R&D on a new line of boomers for space.” He tilted his head slightly. “Why do you ask?”

Irene’s thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had with Linna Yamazaki two days back. It had been a strange conversation at the time, but the questions Linna had asked had stuck with her.

“Linna and I were discussing Boomers a couple of days ago.”

“Your friend from the fitness club, right? The one who goes through boyfriends the same way you go through parfaits?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s the one. Anyway, she started asking me questions about your job and I realized I didn’t know that much about what you do.”

Jeremy sighed. “I like to leave my work at work, especially when I’m with you. It’s dull, tedious, and considered confidential.”

Irene leaned forward across the table. “Are you working on combat boomers?” she whispered. She sat back, watching Jeremy’s face as she did so.

His expression was revealing. He tried to hide it, but the suddenness of the question caught him off-guard. “What are you talking about?”

Irene glared at him. After several seconds, he sighed. He wasn’t a very good liar, and she knew it. “This isn’t the place to talk about that.”

“Then when?” Irene asked bluntly.

“Not here.”

“What are you hiding from me?” Irene asked in a low voice, putting some anger into her words. “You’ve never hidden anything from me before.”

“Because I don’t want to get you involved. It’s my problem, not yours.”

Irene reached out with her hand and grasped one of Jeremy’s. “I love you, and I’m going to marry you. There can’t be any secrets between us. Something is bothering you, and it’s beginning to effect our relationship.”

There was silence between the two of them as they looked at each other. Finally, he took a sip of wine, then glanced around the half-filled restaurant. “After we get out of here,” he murmured.

“Why not now?”

“Too many people around.” he glanced around again, then looked at his fiancee. His expression was troubled. “We’ll go for a drive afterwards, all right?”

“All right.”

They ate the rest of the meal in an uncomfortable silence. Jeremy continued to glance around the room every so often, looking for something that Irene couldn’t see. Irene spent most of her time between looking out the window, watching Jeremy, and glancing around the restaurant herself. The fact she didn’t see anything out of place just worried her.

Finally, the meal was over and the bill paid. They walked towards the restaurant’s entrance, Jeremy’s eyes never staying in one place. Gone was the easy nature that Irene knew. Instead, a watchful and edgy side to Jeremy’s personality came to the surface. He held her arm firmly, and she had to walk briskly to stay up with him.

It was understandable that they missed the tall, attractive blonde woman with grey-green eyes at a table near the entrance. Jeremy, as most men who were out with their significant other, just glanced at her before shifting his gaze. Irene was more concerned with keeping pace then in watching the people around her.

After the couple exited the restaurant, the blonde woman reached into her purse and removed a phone. She dialed a number, listened to it ring twice, and heard it answered.

“Yes?” asked a male voice.

“Cahira here,” the blonde woman replied. “The girl just left with her fiancé. From the way they looked, I think we have a possible security breach with the 99CX1 project.”

“An unavoidable circumstance.”

“Do you wish me to advance the timetable?”

“No. The time is not right yet. Continue to watch her. Gyda will relieve you in two hours. I will see if something cannot be arrange for Mr. Kwan to seal that end of the operation off. You have your orders. Go.” There was a click and the line went dead.

Cahira replaced the phone into her purse and walked out. Even as she did, her mind was analyzing possible routes the couple could be taking down to the garage. She already had the description of Kwan’s car in her memory, and the transmitter she planted on it before coming up to the restaurant, so they wouldn’t be too hard to follow.

As she entered the elevator, she thought about how she would complete her assignment once her master gave her the go ahead. Should she do it quick, or slow to draw the pleasure out? It would depend on the circumstances, she realized. She just hope there would be the time to make a good decision. After all, killing should never be done without great thought.

She shrugged her shoulders. It was a pity she couldn’t do it now, but she could wait. After all, she was programmed to be patient....