Silent Mobius Fan Fiction ❯ Red Destiny - Book 1: New York ❯ Smoke and Mirrors ( Chapter 2 )

Silent Mobius: Red Destiny

Book 1: New York

Chapter 2: Smoke and Mirrors

Authors: OSTOCOM

Email and Website: see our profile

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: We do not own Silent Mobius or its characters, but we do own our own characters. See Book 0 for complete disclaimer.

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An eight-year-old girl with pigtails skipped down the sidewalk, swinging her backpack along beside her. It was a sunny day, school had just gotten out, and she didn't have a care in the world.

Then she saw the monster.

It flitted above her head like a bloated, steel-gray tadpole. Even though it had no eyes, it followed her with unerring instinct as she began backing away. Its mouth opened above her head, and a stream of drool wound its way through rows and rows of teeth, splashing at last on the girl's freckled nose. The girl screamed and ran. The monster flicked its tail and swam effortlessly through the air, coming closer to its prey every second.

Three women began running after the monster and the girl. The shots from their guns and the clacking sound of their boots on the pavement blended together to create a pulsing rhythm. A few of the shots hit the monster, and it began spurting green blood. It hissed and swooped down around the girl's ankles. She screamed.

"I've got it!" shouted a slender auburn-haired woman. She took aim and fired. The monster slithered out of the way, and the shot hit the girl in the leg. She fell, and the monster dove toward her, sinking its teeth into her neck. Blood shot into the air and her neck snapped with a sickening crunch.

Two of the women looked away in disgust, but the third, a short redhead, simply sighed. "Computer, freeze program," she said.

She turned toward the auburn-haired woman. "Well, that was a fine example of precision marksmanship, Commander."

"What happened?" Miakoda asked, looking from her commanding officer to the eerily paused melee.

"The Hawk fought dirty!" Adara replied heatedly.

"Of course it did," Calixta said. "They always do. But that wouldn't have mattered if your reaction time hadn't been so slow."

Adara gritted her teeth. "We've been at this for two and a half hours, *Lieutenant*."

"Right," Calixta said. "Looks like we need to go for an even three."

Adara's fingers began twitching. Miakoda noticed and said hastily, "Maybe we should stop soon. It *has* been a long day."

Calixta looked at her teammates and noticed for the first time how tired they seemed. To be honest, she didn't feel much better. "All right," she said. "Just one more round. Computer, close present file and run file LHAttack3.sim."

The computer whirred, and at last the girl, monster, and sidewalk disappeared. The lights dimmed and an alleyway surrounded the three women. They heard a thumping and clanking sound coming from the dumpster. "Get ready," Calixta whispered.

Suddenly the lid of the dumpster flew off as a swarm of Category Threes burst out. Miakoda reflexively raised her arms and created an energy shield. The Hawks slid through it as though there were nothing there. "I need backup over here!" she shouted.

Adara spun around and fired a shot-or tried to. Unfortunately, her finger slid through the trigger without setting off any reaction. "What the hell?"

"Looks like something's wrong with the SATI," Calixta said. "Try mine." She tossed her gun to Adara, but it too slid right through Adara's hand.

The Hawks began swarming around the three women. "Computer!" Calixta shouted. "End program!"

The program continued running. More and more Hawks congregated in the alley, forcing their opponents back into a corner. "Looks like voice recognition is down, too," Calixta said.

"I'd say that's the least of our worries," Adara commented. "How are we going to get rid of all of these?"

"Manual override," Calixta said.

"But there's no way-" Adara began. She watched in astonishment as Calixta sprinted through the hive of Category Threes all the way over to the far wall. After Calixta tapped a few buttons on an instrument panel, the Hawks and the alley vanished without a trace.

"See, this is really, really bad."

Adara wasn't sure she'd sum up the situation that way, but she decided to humor Calixta. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for one thing, the computer isn't recognizing voice commands, and for another, we're having problems with the Solidification and Tactile Interface."

"What does that mean?" Miakoda asked.

"Without the SATI, we're basically just fighting collections of photons, which doesn't make for a realistic simulation at all. Real Hawks can't get through your shield and I can't run through real Hawks, but Adara *can* fire a real gun, and fairly decently most of the time."

"Thanks…I think," Adara said.

Calixta grinned and then sighed. "Honestly, I just don't think the primary memory was designed to handle this kind of input. I'll have to see if there's some way I can reroute our secondary systems through some other interface to free up system resources, or whether I'll have to buy and install an upgrade-" She yawned. "And then I'll have to, um-wait, there was something else…"

"Calixta," Miakoda interrupted. "What about the contractors you were talking about hiring?"

"Oh, um, I decided against it. Too expensive. Besides, I can handle it." Calixta yawned again.

"Have you even been home since you started working on this project?" Miakoda asked.

"Well…no…but it's not like I have anything better to do at home."

"You could sleep," Miakoda pointed out.

"I don't need sleep," Calixta snapped. "I have caramel frappuccinos."

"Lieutenant Solaris!" Adara barked. "You will hire contractors, and you will take a nap! These are your orders."

"Yes, sir!" Calixta saluted. "Request permission to fall asleep, sir."

"Granted," Adara said, smiling.

"Thanks." Calixta collapsed on the floor and curled up into a ball.

"Calixta?" Miakoda said. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep on the couch upstairs? You'd be more comfortable."

"Nahfie," Calixta mumbled.

Miakoda shrugged. "If you say so."

"I'll fight you for the couch," Adara said.

"That's all right," Miakoda replied. "You can have it. I'll just-" She was going to say, 'get some work done,' but upon further reflection, she decided she was too tired. She finished with a yawn, "-sleep somewhere else."

------

Several miles north of the simulated carnage, a very frustrated Amber Ramirez shut the door to Captain Marshall's office. Her second interview with the captain had been like pulling teeth, and at the moment, Amber longed to yank out a few of Captain Marshall's. Maybe that would take the smarminess of his smile down a few notches.

Her fingers clenched her pencil as she replayed the interview in her mind: (What could he tell her about how mem-sweeps worked? Not much. He had only supervised the experiments, not created the technology. So who did create the technology? He didn't know. He could name a few scientists who had worked with it, but they hadn't invented the procedure. Did he have any idea who had? He thought maybe someone named Avaré. Did he have any contact information for this Avaré? Sadly, no. What about a list of the test subjects? He was very sorry to refuse such a pretty journalist, but that information was classified. She understood, but was he absolutely certain that Mackenzie Jameson hadn't been a test subject? Why did she insist on this so vehemently? He had been Jameson's commanding officer, and he would certainly know if she had been. How had she come to be so misinformed? Her sources were protected, but she had read about the accident on the _Victorious_... wasn't it coincidental that Jameson should contract amnesia while on a ship that was performing mem-sweep experiments? He stood by what he said before. The two incidents were totally unrelated.)

"Always with the lies and the deception!" Amber exclaimed. Her pencil snapped in half, and she picked up the pieces distractedly. Why wasn't anyone being upfront with her about what was going on? One thing was for sure-Marshall did not want her to think that Mackenzie had been a test subject. Nonetheless, Amber was convinced that she *had* been, or else Marshall would not have been so evasive. Still, she couldn't prove anything-at least, not yet….

She thought of something her favorite journalism professor had told her: "When you can, always get your information straight from the horse's mouth." Amber giggled in spite of herself. It was such a funny expression. She always took the intent seriously, though. And tomorrow she planned to head to the stables and get a look at one of the horses….

------

When Calixta and Adara returned to work the next morning, they found a woman sitting in the waiting room. Miakoda was already at the front desk, apparently working, although she kept throwing glances at their guest. The woman stood up when they entered and took off the sunglasses she had been wearing. She stood about 5'7" and most of that was in her legs, which were gorgeously sculpted. She was on the thin side, and the black dress suit she was wearing only seemed to emphasize that fact. Her auburn hair was cut short and perfectly styled. She smiled at them, and Calixta felt a little shiver pass through her. This woman was definitely cold.

Adara stiffened. She almost hadn't recognized the woman standing before them until she had smiled. Adara would recognize that slightly haughty smile and those cold blue eyes anywhere. "Mother!" she blurted out quickly.

"Hello, Adara. It's been a while."

The lieutenant commander scowled. "Yes, it has. I wonder why?" she asked sarcastically. She clenched her right hand into a fist as she fought for control over her emotions.

The two women stared at one another for an endless moment. Finally, the older woman broke her daughter's gaze and looked down at the floor. "I guess it is my fault. But it's good to see you again."

Calixta and Miakoda looked back and forth between Adara and her mother. The resemblance was uncanny when they stood side by side. Their field commander definitely took after her mother in looks. The tense silence was finally broken as Calixta nudged Adara in the ribs. "Are you going to introduce us?" she whispered.

"My mother, Erika Jacobs. Mother, these are my teammates Calixta Solaris and Miakoda Nakai." She indicated each woman in turn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Erika replied, offering each one a small nod. "Adara, may I speak with you alone?"

"I'm very busy now," she answered brusquely. "I don't even know how you found me here. Perhaps if you come back later?" She started to walk out of the room towards her office, but Miakoda blocked her path.

"Talk to her," the Navajo whispered. "She did come all this way."

Adara glared at her for a moment, but finally turned back around. "My office is this way. Follow me." She headed back, not bothering to check and see if Erika was actually following her.

Once they had left, the other ECC members exchanged worried glances. "I've never seen Adara lose her cool quite like that," Calixta commented as she traded places with Miakoda behind the front desk. "I mean, she may get upset, but she's never rude."

"Ms. Jacobs indicated that there was a falling out many years ago," Miakoda explained. "I doubt they've spoken since. And I know Adara's father got custody of her when she was seven, so it's likely she hasn't seen her mother for years. This has to take an emotional toll on her."

"Well…I guess. But still…" Calixta cast a glance at the closed door where the reunion was taking place. "You don't suppose we ought to have the fire department on standby, do you? Just in case?"

Miakoda just sighed.

------

"How have you been?" Erika asked as she took a seat in the slightly uncomfortable chair situated in front of her daughter's desk.

Adara had to fight a smile as she watched her mother try to get comfortable, although she realized she shouldn't be that petty. "Fine."

Erika looked exasperated. "You could try being a bit more polite to your mother, Adara. I did come all the way out here to see you."

"Which begs the question why, doesn't it? So tell me, Mother, why after all these years do you suddenly decide to finally remember that your only child still exists?"

"I'm a different person than the one you remember, dear. I've come to reconcile. It's been too long since I've seen my baby girl. And may I say you've grown up beautifully." She smiled beatifically.

Adara found herself thrown of guard at the kind sentiment. (No thanks to you,) she thought to herself. "Yeah, thanks. Dad and Judith made sure of that, and I'm grateful to them."

Erika narrowed her eyes. "Spiteful today, aren't we?"

"It's nothing less than you deserve!" Adara spat. "After everything that happened, you think you can just waltz back into my life? You've got to be kidding me!" She clenched her right hand slightly as she glared across the desk.

"Be careful. You're liable to start a fire."

The glare worsened. "Like the one I started when I was seven, right?" Her hand clenched harder and a small spurt of flame shot up. "Get out. I don't know why you even bothered coming here. Just get out. I never want to see you again."

Erika looked hurt. "Adara, be reasonable-"

"Out!" the fire elemental roared. The air in the office started to get warmer. "I can't believe that after all this time, you *still* won't admit the truth!"

"Adara-"

"Just go. Or I won't be responsible for what happens." The young woman turned her back on her mother.

Erika looked at her daughter for a long moment before shaking her head and standing up. "If that's what you want, I'll go. But don't think this is over, young lady. You and I still have a lot to talk about." Her heels clicked loudly in the silence as she left.

Once she was outside the office, she dropped the airs she had affected and sighed. "Well, that could have gone better," she admitted to no one in particular.

A certain Native American, however, happened to be within hearing distance. "Let me talk to her," Miakoda offered as she put a sympathetic hand on Erika's shoulder. "Adara can be stubborn sometimes, but if you can get her to calm down, she'll usually listen to reason."

The older woman shook her head. "I'm afraid she gets it from me. I'd appreciate any help you could give. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms…but I want to be a part of her life again."

Miakoda smiled reassuringly. "I'll see what I can do. Is there a number she can reach you at?"

After scribbling a quick note, Erika thanked her again and took her leave. As she stepped into the chilly November air, she pulled her coat a little tighter and smirked. Things were going to go well if she could get the sympathy of the other ECC members. It was time to report back to Jerel. The plan was going perfectly.

------

Adara was almost tempted not to answer when she heard the knocking at her door. She had a fairly good idea of who was waiting on the other side, and she wasn't quite ready for the confrontation she knew was coming. The knocker was insistent, however, and finally Adara found herself saying, "Come in."

As she suspected, it was Miakoda who opened the door. The willowy Navajo entered her office and shut the door behind her. She offered Adara a smile and a cup of coffee, both of which the lieutenant commander accepted gratefully.

"I was hoping we could talk," Miakoda offered after a few moments of silence.

"There's nothing to talk about," Adara insisted.

"Your mother's back. It's been many years since you've seen her, hasn't it? I can't imagine how hard this must be for you."

Adara laughed mirthlessly. "Hard? Get real, Miakoda. I honestly don't care if I ever see that woman again."

"I find that difficult to believe. You wouldn't have agreed to talk to her, even had I asked you, if you didn't really want to. What's bothering you, Adara? It seemed like you wouldn't even listen to her." Miakoda looked imploringly at the other woman, hoping she could get her teammate to let out whatever the problem was.

"You wouldn't understand," she sighed heavily as she closed her eyes. "After all these years…she still can't admit the truth."

"The truth?"

Adara looked torn for a moment, but she shut off her emotions and said, "Nothing."

"Adara…"

"I said it was nothing!" Internally, Adara winced. That had come out a bit harsher than she had expected.

Miakoda held up her hands peaceably. "All right, I understand. But if you ever want to talk just let me know. And let me give you this." She handed over the small slip of paper with Erika's phone number on it. "In case you change your mind."

"That won't happen," the fire elemental said coldly. However, Miakoda noticed that she tucked the paper into her desk drawer.

"You know where I'll be if you need me." With that she took her leave.

The ECC's field commander hardly noticed Miakoda's exit as she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back tears. (Mother…after everything that happened, why are you here now?) She stared at the ceiling searching for answers that she knew would not come.

------

Adara sat in her office, contemplating the recent return of her mother and her conversation with Miakoda. She was completely unprepared for the crackle of the intercom and Commander Jameson's voice ordering her to report to her office at once. Adara started, and her chair, which had been leaning back, toppled over. She picked herself up off of the ground with an embarrassed smile.

"Lieutenant Commander? Are you all right?" Jameson asked over the com.

"Fine, fine!" she barked as she tried to right both herself and the chair. She was glad neither of her teammates had witnessed that. No doubt Calixta would have teased her about it for weeks. She laughed slightly. "Just a little accident. You wanted to see me, sir?"

"At your earliest convince, Commander," Mackenzie's voice replied dryly.

"On my way, sir." She gave the chair one last glare before filing out of her office and down the hall.

------

"Chief, are you crazy?"

Mackenzie looked back at Adara, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. "It's very possible."

"I mean-" Adara blushed, appalled at her own impoliteness. Twice in one day. She hoped this wasn't going to become a habit. She drew herself up to attention. "May I speak freely, sir?"

"By all means, Commander Davis."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to speak to a journalist. You just don't know what they might find out about us if they get suspicious."

"And I have a feeling this journalist would get more suspicious if I refused to speak to her. One thing I've learned as an officer is to take the press seriously."

"Yes, sir." Adara hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Are you sure you're taking it seriously enough?"

"Yes," Mackenzie said. "I am. Ms. Ramirez is working on a story about the memory sweeps. Most likely she wants my opinion about the testing. It doesn't seem to me that her questions will have anything to do with what we do here."

An alarm sounded, and Calixta's voice came over the intercom. "Red alert! Hawk attack at Metropolitan and Bedford."

"That's your cue," Mackenzie said, gesturing. "Exit, stage left."

"Yes, sir!" Adara saluted and ran out of the room.

Mackenzie sighed. Despite what she had told Adara, she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of an interview. Memory was a sore point for her. Since her accident six years ago, she hadn't been able to remember anything past her seventeenth birthday. She remembered spilling ice cream cake on her new shirt…the smell of candles…her parents' laughter…a badly wrapped package containing an old hardback copy of Milton's _Paradise Lost_...but everything after that day was a dense white fog. The harder she tried to penetrate the fog, the thicker it got, until she felt as though she were suffocating in her own mind. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want to give people the power to create this sense of powerlessness, this total loss of self-

Well, of course there might be another side to the issue, but Mackenzie couldn't see it through the white fog. She disapproved of the mem-sweep project wholeheartedly. She couldn't understand why anyone on the _Victorious_ would have volunteered for the procedure. Its implications were frightening, and she was of the opinion that such tests should never have been permitted in the first place.

"And that's what I'll tell her," Mackenzie said aloud. There was no need to go into detail. She buttoned the jacket of her crisp navy-blue suit and smoothed her French twist hairdo. As she left the room, she locked the door to her office behind her. It was time to meet the press.

------

"How familiar are you with mem-sweep technology, Commander?" Amber looked across the restaurant table at Mackenzie and readied her pencil.

Mackenzie took a sip of her dry martini. "I understand the Navy conducted some preliminary tests. I don't know anyone who participated, or much about the procedure itself, though."

"Are you sure about that?" Amber leaned forward, training every journalistic sense on Mackenzie, hoping to get some clue to this ridiculous riddle.

"Yes," Mackenzie said. "I don't believe in grasping for power or in trying to play God with people's lives. That was the mistake that lost us Paradise."

"So naturally, you avoided the issue." Amber's brow furrowed. Commander Jameson was telling the truth, and what she said made sense, but-

"I'm sorry I don't know anything helpful." Mackenzie spoke with genuine regret.

Amber smiled as she fiddled with her crystal necklace. It was refreshing to find someone who was actually trying to tell her the truth. Still, the fact that none of the stories were lining up frustrated her. On a hunch, she said casually, "It's too bad you weren't a test subject, or something like that."

"I would *never* be a test subject!" Mackenzie exclaimed.

The commander's vehemence took Amber aback, but she pursued the point. "Of course not…but hypothetically, would you remember if you had been?"

"I wouldn't know."

"I'd like to ask you about your accident six years ago…the one on the _Victorious_," Amber began hesitantly.

"What?" Mackenzie stared at her, confused and suspicious.

"I was just wondering about it. The timing of it…and the fact that the _Victorious_ was conducting mem-sweep tests on board."

"Those two events have nothing to do with each other." Mackenzie signaled the waiter and paid for the drinks. "I need to go back to work."

"So do I," Amber muttered as Mackenzie left. "So do I."

------

The glass window on the phone booth was broken, making Amber feel completely exposed. She shouldn't be making this call here and now anyway, but she had to be sure….

She swiped her electronic payment card and dialed the number. One ring…two…good, she was there, after all. She cupped her hand around the mouthpiece and said in a stage whisper, "Admiral Henderson?"

The wind whistled through the glass, as though trying to snatch at her private conversation. "Yes, yes, I know I shouldn't be calling…right, I'm sorry…yes, this will be quick…I just have to ask-are you absolutely sure about Commander Jameson? …What? Yes, I'll hold…"

Amber had just begun humming along to "Hail to the Chief" when she heard a click on the other end of the line. "Hello, Admiral?"

The only response was the mechanical buzz of the dial tone.

Amber frowned. Admiral Henderson had been a source of hers for nearly a year, had always been polite and helpful, and had been unusually forthcoming with information on this story. So why the sudden secrecy?

Amber fingered her necklace. No…she had heard the sincerity in Admiral Henderson's voice, followed by the harried tone of someone who had been interrupted. The admiral had meant to give her the information. So she wouldn't have hung up on her, which meant…

Amber dialed the number again. Nothing. The silence on the end of the line confirmed her suspicions more than anything the admiral could have said. It also proved the stakes were much higher than anyone had imagined….

Adrenaline surged through Amber, and she dialed the next number with remarkable speed. "Hello, Commander Jameson?" she said. "We need to talk."

------

Amber stepped up to the building where Mackenzie Jameson worked. It was a short, plain brown-brick building-clearly designed to be functional, not beautiful. But that was the modern way, Amber thought regretfully. There wasn't much time to be spent on aesthetics anymore.

Her architectural reverie was interrupted by the arrival of three women: a short redhead, a slim auburn-haired woman, and a tall Native American. The auburn-haired woman was disheveled and her gray eyes blazed with fury. "I can't believe how many Hawk attacks we've had! At this rate-"

Amber's ears perked up. These women looked vaguely familiar. Hadn't she seen them recently? "Hawks?" she asked.

The three women snapped their heads toward her. Two of them looked inexplicably nervous, as though they'd been caught doing something wrong. The redhead, however, looked at Amber nonchalantly and said, as though her words explained everything, "They bother the horses."

"Horses?" Amber began feeling confused.

"Right, because horses can't fly."

"I…don't follow," Amber said, more confused than ever.

"Well, hawks can fly, right?"

"Yes…" Amber said, not sure where this conversation was leading.

"But horses can't fly."

"Right," Amber said impatiently. "So what?"

"Well, if the hawks and horses get into a fight, the hawks can fly away, but the horses can't. And hawks, being birds of prey, like to attack the horses. Now, take a Clydesdale. A Clydesdale is big enough to fight back, but say you have a Shetland pony and a big hawk swoops down. Well, unless the Shetland pony knows judo-which most of them don't, and the ones that do aren't very good at it-the hawk's going to win. You see what I mean, right?"

"No, I don't." Amber's temper began to get the better of her. "I don't care about any of that. All I want to do is find ECC Headquarters and speak to Mackenzie Jameson! It's urgent! Do you understand?"

"If it's so urgent, why didn't you ask about Mackenzie Jameson instead of asking about hawks?"

Amber clenched her fists at her sides. It was bad enough that she couldn't get any sort of reliable reading from the redhead, but it was worse to have to deal with blatant misdirection used against her by someone so infuriatingly stupid. "Well, I'm asking now!" she said through clenched teeth.

The Native American woman intervened hastily. "This is Equine Cleanup and Control Headquarters. Commander Jameson is upstairs. This way."

She opened the door to the building, and Amber followed her gratefully.

Once Amber and Miakoda were out of sight, Adara turned to Calixta. "Well, that was strange even for you."

The two went inside. Calixta looked around, and then whispered, "I think I saw her in the alley yesterday when we were fighting the Category One."

Adara massaged her temples. "Seriously?"

"For once, yes. And if I had to guess, I'd say she's a journalist."

"Great," Adara moaned. "So why didn't you just stay quiet, or make up some plausible story?"

"Because," Calixta said, "you can argue with lies, but you can't argue with crazy."

Adara stared at her for a second and started laughing. "Well…I can't argue with that," she said. "Still," she added as she calmed down, "We should probably avoid talking to her again if we can help it."

"I agree," Calixta said. "I have a feeling we might not be able to avoid it, though."

Adara sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

------

"This is it," Miakoda said, pointing to a closed office door.

"Thanks," Amber said. Miakoda nodded and withdrew.

Amber took a deep breath and knocked on the door of Mackenzie Jameson's office. She heard a tired but authoritative voice say, "Come in," and she obediently stepped inside.

Mackenzie sat at her desk filling out paperwork. She looked up at Amber, and the lines of fatigue seemed to dig themselves deeper into her face. Nonetheless, she welcomed Amber politely and invited her to sit down.

"Thank you," Amber said, sitting down in an armchair across from Mackenzie's desk. "I'm sorry to interrupt you. This won't take long."

"I'm glad to hear that," Mackenzie said, smiling a little.

"It's just…" Amber looked for a tactful way to phrase her suspicions, but abandoned the attempt after a few seconds. "I think you were a mem-sweep test subject."

Mackenzie drew herself up in her chair. "I assure you, I wasn't."

Amber hadn't expected her to say anything else, but she had secretly hoped for a more open reception. She countered calmly, "I do have my sources, Commander. Besides, you've indicated yourself that you have trouble remembering things. The doctors diagnosed you with severe amnesia, didn't they?"

"My memory problem," Mackenzie replied coldly, "was the result of an accident."

"Do you remember the accident?" Amber asked.

"No. According to the doctors, the seconds leading up the accident never got transferred into long-term memory. It's not unusual for that to happen in cases like this."

(No, but it's sure convenient,) Amber thought. She realized a confrontational attitude wouldn't help at this point, though, so she laid her opinions aside and continued probing. "Who told you about the accident?" she asked.

"Captain Marshall."

"And…you trust him?" Amber tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice, but some emerged anyway.

"Implicitly," Mackenzie said.

Amber looked at her incredulously. Mackenzie noticed the look and continued, "You're a journalist, Ms. Ramirez. It's your job to be skeptical: to question what you're told, and maybe even distrust it. But when you work with someone-and know that you may have to face death with that person-you learn to trust. You trust because you have to. I don't expect you to understand."

"You're right; I don't," Amber said pointedly. "It's been my habit to only trust people who tell me the truth."

Mackenzie stood up, her fingertips pressed against her desk. When she spoke, every word was weighed out with cold, deliberate authority. "If you want me to believe you, Ms. Ramirez, you'll have to present me with more convincing evidence. Right now, I only see speculation. Good afternoon."

"But-"

Mackenzie inclined her head in Amber's direction. Suddenly she looked tired. "If you were in my position, Ms. Ramirez, would you believe that what you're saying was the truth?"

"No," Amber admitted. "But I'd look into it anyway." With that, she thanked Mackenzie for her time and left.

------

Amber strode furiously down the corridors of the building, her head pounding. Her story was due tomorrow, and she had next to nothing to go on. At this rate, she was going to have to settle for finding some people on the street and getting their opinions-which she wouldn't mind if it weren't going to be the whole thrust of the story. Why were so many things getting in her way?

As she thought this, she ran headlong into a short man with thinning black hair and large hands. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" she asked irritably. Then she realized how rude that sounded, and said in a lower voice, "I'm sorry. Excuse me."

As she began walking away, the man called after her, "There's no reason to be alarmed, miss. I'm just fixing their computer systems."

Despite what he said, Amber was alarmed. She spun around, but the man had already disappeared down one of the corridors. Her necklace had gone cold enough to chill her skin. She had to find someone. Now. She had to warn them….

She picked her pace up, sprinting through the hallways, narrowly avoiding hitting the walls as she ran around the corners, hoping to find someone, anyone….

Suddenly she found herself in a large common room, where the three women she had seen before were sitting. "I just thought you should know," Amber gasped, "that there's a man here who claims to be fixing your computers. He's not doing anything of the kind."

"What do you mean?" Miakoda asked.

At the same time, Adara asked, "What makes you say that?"

Calixta, however, didn't wait for any confirmation, but leaped out of her seat and ran down the hallway. Well, at least *someone* took her seriously, even if it was the village idiot. Amber's pent-up fury at being ignored, lied to, disbelieved, and given the runaround for over a week finally burst. "Well maybe if someone would give *me* a straight answer, I'd return the favor!" she shouted. "And just because no one else is trustworthy doesn't mean I'm not either!"

Amber turned around and stalked out of the room. She had done what she could, and now it was time to leave. She had a story to write…if one could call it that.

------

Calixta raced down the hallway, her hand on her gun and her body on full alert. Her eyes scanned every person, every corner, looking for anything suspicious. Of course, with all the contractors in the building, "a man here to fix your computers" could mean anyone. (I should have asked for a description,) she thought. (But no-that would have required foresight and intelligence. Well, never mind. Think now. It would be someone standing alone…probably near a vital system…someone like that man over there….)

He was short, standing on tiptoe to get a better look at the wires he was twisting back together with his large hands. Calixta stepped up behind him and tried to act nonchalant. "Hey, what are you working on there?"

"I was just installing some RAM," he said, gesturing toward the panel. "Giving your holomodule a little memory boost."

"Oh, I see," Calixta said. "That's amazing. I really don't know how you do it."

The contractor stood up to his full height, and Calixta detected a certain swagger to his movements. "Well, it's a simple task for someone with a little technical training…"

"Wow," she said. "I had no idea that a little technical training would let you install RAM for the holomodule right into the building's main power grid."

The man's sense of superiority faded as his mind fumbled for an explanation. Calixta didn't plan on waiting. She pointed her gun at him and ordered, "Move."

His waxy face twisted into a smile-like grimace. "You're smart," he said, "for a human."

The meaning of his words didn't fully register in Calixta's mind until he started to grow. Soon he stood eight feet tall. His face flattened out, his hands turned into claws, and one of his legs morphed into a serpentine mass while the other became a cloven hoof with a spike protruding from a bulbous knee. He rasped out, "But even the intelligent must die."

At this, Calixta snapped out of her shocked trance. Her mind swiftly catalogued her options. She needed to get everyone out. Now.

She began to run toward the far left wall, feeling a jolt of adrenaline as she did so. The Lucifer Hawk glided behind her. He moved slowly, as though he was utterly unconcerned about whether he caught her now or later. (He thinks he can just play with me,) Calixta realized. This infuriated her. Once she reached the wall, she pulled the fire alarm with unnecessary force. Purple ink splattered all over her hand and the alarm blared through the building.

Calixta wiped her hand off before pushing the button for the emergency intercom system. "Attention!" she shouted. "We have a Code One alarm. Please exit the building immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill. Please exit the building immediately."

She heard a grating laugh behind her. "That's good advice," the Lucifer Hawk said. "Are you going to take it?"

"Not on your life," Calixta said through gritted teeth.

"What about on *your* life?" the Hawk asked. He gestured with his club-like hands. "Perhaps you would leave if I told you I planted a bomb in that panel."

"No, I sort of figured that was what you were up to," Calixta replied. "A surge bomb, is it?"

He hissed in surprise, and perhaps even admiration. "You really are unusual," he said. "I might almost regret killing you."

"I'm sorry the feeling's not mutual," Calixta said, readying her gun. She heard two sets of footsteps behind her.

"So," Adara said, a dangerous twinkle in her gray eyes, "I hear we're having a fire drill." She pushed her arms out from her body and launched a steady stream of fire toward the Lucifer Hawk. "How does flame-broiled Hawk sound for dinner?"

"Fine," Calixta said, ignoring the Category One's yelps as she made her way toward the main power grid. "But I need to take care of this bomb first."

"Great," Adara muttered. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to get her flames to follow the Hawk, who was disappearing and reappearing at random.

"How long do we have?" Miakoda whispered, in between the shots she fired.

Calixta's fingers sifted expertly through the wires. She flipped a switch, and looked at the red digital readout. "Just under four minutes."

"Can you defuse it?" Miakoda asked.

"I don't know." Worry showed in Calixta's brown eyes as she punched buttons to close down electrical pathways. "Just cover Adara."

"Belay that, Lieutenant Nakai." Mackenzie's authoritative voice rang through the large room. "Shield Lieutenant Solaris. I'll provide the backup."

"Aye, Chief." Miakoda saluted sharply and tossed Mackenzie her gun. Mackenzie leaped up and caught it in midair. She began firing at the Lucifer Hawk before her feet hit the ground. The bullets hit him in a neat line down his midsection. He disappeared again just as Mackenzie landed in a defensive crouch.

Miakoda closed her eyes briefly to concentrate her energy. A second later, a golden-brown shield surrounded her and Calixta. Just then, the Category One reappeared near them. He swung his arm furiously at the shield, but even his massive hand could not penetrate the shield.

He roared in frustration. "You will not win!" he shouted.

"Delta four, Commander Davis," Mackenzie ordered.

Adara nodded and aimed a fireball at Miakoda's shield. The shield sizzled with the heat and the Lucifer Hawk backed away from the flames toward Mackenzie, who drew a second gun from her holster.

"Now!" Mackenzie shouted. Adara circled the Hawk, maintaining a relentless flow of fire, while Mackenzie discharged rapid rounds of bullets. The Category One howled and seemed to have difficulty escaping.

Behind her psychic shield, Miakoda began to sweat. "Are you almost done?" she asked.

"Honestly, bombs aren't my thing," Calixta confessed. "All I can do is cut off most of the power so that we don't have as much energy surging through here when-"

"But that means-"

"We have a minute and a half," Calixta said. "Run!"

The word echoed urgently throughout the room. Mackenzie and Adara stopped their attack, turned, and ran. Miakoda and Calixta followed hot on their heels. Down the hall. Turn. Down the stairs. There was the emergency exit door…so close….

The door opened easily when Mackenzie pushed it. She, Adara, and Miakoda raced outside and ran out toward the street. Calixta reached the door at last, and as her hand brushed against it, she found herself swept up eight feet into the air.

"You…*will* die," the Hawk growled. He was covered in clotted aquamarine blood, and there was a crazed look in his beady eyes. "You must understand my power…the power of Mannos…and know that you cannot escape the hands of fate…"

He swung a clawed hand toward her, ready to dismember her, to tear her to pieces and eat her. Calixta's hand slid toward her holster and withdrew her gun. Without wasting a second, she pointed it directly at Mannos' eye and fired.

Mannos howled in pain. He flung Calixta against the wall. Her head hit the wall with a resounding crack that was indistinguishable in her mind from the explosion of the building. She saw a painful glow of light and then darkness enveloped her. The last thing she felt was the agony of warped steel, burnt wires, and splinters of bulletproof glass.

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Next Episode Preview:

Mackenzie: "Human beings are but the sum of their experiences. But what if your experiences are taken from you? Are you any less a human? Can you ever get back that which cannot be replaced? Or should you merely let it be forgotten? Deep within the human heart lie the answers you search for."

Episode 3: Memories of a Shadow