Shades Of Gray
#1
Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
SHADES OF GRAY: Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
Text Copyright © 2006, 2011 by Kristie Lynn Higgins
Cover Art Copyright © 2011
Smashwords Edition
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.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
----
If multiple Earths existed, what would their worlds look like? What kind of people would they be? Societies? Religions?
Would they make the same mistakes as us?
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. They 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. Therefore, 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. 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. Noir stretched into 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. 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...
"Initiate the Pandora Project," a deep male voice ordered.
"Pandora has been awakened," a female replied.
"Good... Good...," the deep voice said.
"Are you sure the project is ready?" a second male voice inquired. "Maybe we should give it a few more weeks of conditioning."
"No. Launch Pandora," the deep voice instructed. "Let us see what it can do on its own."
"Releasing the project now," the female said, paused, and added, "Pandora is running as predicted."
"Good... Good... Let us begin the tests."
6:04 P.M...
Scattered streetlights partially lit an abandoned industrial district. The wind howled, blowing through overgrown weeds and chilled the air of the blue gray night. 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 mega-city 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. The four doors of the vehicle opened. Five men in brown suits exited the car. Their dark shades hid more than their eyes. Four of them carried a silver Beretta each, which they removed from their shoulder holster. The fifth wore a Coffin Handled Bowie tucked in a belt. The man tapped the hilt eager to draw the knife. Eerily, in one accord, they turned their heads, stared through their black tinted glasses at the rusted toy building, and awaited orders. A parking lot stood between them and their target.
In another part of the city...
In a secret location known as the Sanctum...
Fifty, large, flat screen monitors covered three walls and lit up a dark inner room called the Chamber. Data filled the screens. 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.
"All right people, let’s stay focused," a male supervisor shouted.
He and a female supervisor walked up and down the line of workstations. They received updated reports from the analysts and kept their employers current on the projects and experiments.
He added, "This is the day we’ve been waiting for!"
The analysts wore indigo jumpsuits with white stripes on the sides. The supervisors wore crimson jumpsuits with white stripes. Both the analysts and supervisors wore earpieces to communicate with operatives in the field. The hum of equipment and the chatter of people filled the area.
In the center of the Chamber, two men and a woman sat at a long table. Each of them had a laptop in front of them and each wore a black business suit. Shadows concealed their eyes, leaving only their mouths visible in the computer-blue illumination. The three, known as the Council, scanned reports as they were delivered to them by the supervisors on Hand Held Computers or H.H.Cs. The standard size for a H.H.C. was two and a half inches by four and a half inches.
"Has the project been located?" Mr. Morta asked in a deep voice as he twirled a gold ring on his dark brown finger. He sat at the end of the table with the woman to his right and the other man to his left.
"Yes. One of our best operatives, Argus, is watching Pandora," Mr. Decuma, the smaller man, answered as he smoothed his hand down a bright orange tie.
"Good... Good..." Mr. Morta leaned back in his chair. "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 positioned himself in an alley a block from the abandoned toy warehouse to watch Pandora. He noted the sedan across the street, the five men, and reported them over an earpiece.
Within the Chamber...
The male supervisor handed a H.H.C. to the third member of the Council.
Ms. Nona frowned, thinning her cherry-red lips which contrasted her powdery white skin. Her frame was the smallest of the members. "We have received a second report from our operative." She scanned the report a second time, disconcerted over the news. "Argus has spotted five bio-mechas. They are not Proto-Androids, but a new model called Un-Men."
"Un-Men?" Mr. Morta rubbed his chin, not as surprised as his female counterpart. "Only one department is developing this line of bio-mechas." Disappointed, he exhaled loudly. "So the Factory has started their Un-Men tests. I hoped they would have waited."
"You knew this might happen?" Mr. Decuma questioned as he rubbed his finger over a silver tie pin of the word Fate.
Mr. Morta nodded. "Yes, it was only a matter of time, but that means..."
"It means–" Ms. Nona interrupted. "–the Factory has decided to go against the wishes of the Council."
"How dare they!" Mr. Decuma slammed his palms on the table as he stood. "We must do something!"
"But what?" Ms. Nona questioned.
"More importantly," Mr. Morta started. "What are their plans for 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. 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. 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. The Un-Man could tell the human was watching them. The Un-Man's I-Link blazed orange through the right lens of its shades as it processed the data.
Fearful, Argus moved his hand to the M4 assault rifle strapped over his shoulder. He tensed, not knowing what it would do. Argus had encountered a Proto-android before and it had nearly killed him. He had no idea what this new model was capable of.
"Best to stay on the safe side," he thought. "And make it clear I won't interfere with their mission." He moved his hand away from the assault rifle.
The Un-Man smirked, continued toward Etna, and joined its brethren.
"Looks like it worked. I'm very relieved. I didn't want to die this day.” Argus grabbed a hold of the M4 and moved across the street to continue the surveillance of Pandora.
Within the Chamber...
"The matter is confirmed. The Factory–" Ms. Nona emphasized the next word, "–has gone against our wishes." She looked to the larger man. "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. A lamp on a round end table stood beside it and lit up the area in a dim glow. A woman in her early thirties slept on the cot. She had a shaven head, and a gash on her forehead 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 a white cotton case. No other bedding covered the old and worn mattress.
The woman 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. Her lips moved as she talked within the dream, but there was no sound. The woman’s 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 as her face grimaced in determination. Her mind replayed a memory. It was one that would mark her future with sorrow. Three shots rang out in the dream. The horrible recollection caused her to scream. She sat up and franticly searched the building.
“I need to run!” she thought. “But where?”
Her heart thundered in her chest as she noticed she was alone.
“So... I'm not in any immediate danger.”
She calmed down a bit when she realized she had been dreaming.
“I remember running, but there's something I can't remember. Was I chasing someone? Or was someone chasing me?”
Her head hurt, and she was very thirsty. She examined the old empty building more closely.
"What is this place?"
She noticed parts of teddy bears scattered about a stack of boxes.
"Is this place a toy factory?"
A layer of dust clung to everything like the building and machinery hadn't been used in years. The woman remembered the dream, and the urgency she felt within it.
“There's something I'm supposed to do. Or have I already done it? Whatever it is, my life depends on it.”
More of the dream faded. She mentally tried to grasp for a clue, but it was like trying to capture a dark phantom. The feelings of fear and anxiety remained with her, along with the memory of the three shots. Nothing else of the dream remained and that bothered her.
"Was I pursuing someone or was someone chasing me?" she wondered. "Am I the predator or the prey?"
She sat there a little longer, hoping something would resurface from the dream. She thought if she waited there long enough her memories would tell her...
"Oh my gosh!" She put a hand to her mouth as she realized something that unsettled her. The revelation frightened her more than not knowing what had happened in the dream. "Who am I? I don't know. I don't know my name! Why?!" Her head continued to hurt so she touched her temple. She felt a warm wet substance and examined her bloody fingers. "I'm bleeding! What happened to me?!" She balled her other hand and squeezed it tightly. "I have to remember. What's my name? What's my name?!" She looked back to her bloody fingers. "Is this why I can’t remember? I hit my head? Or... Did someone hurt me?"
"I have to find out." She moved to the edge of the cot and noticed a second table. It was square and small and had a few items on it. She picked up a business card with an image of a flaming bird. "A Phoenix." She flipped it over and noticed a barcode on the back. "Are they mine? Can they tell me who I am?" She set down the card, picked up a note, and read it aloud.
"Katharine..." She studied the name. "Is that me?" She thought about it. "It doesn’t sound familiar." She continued 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 was signed by R.G.
She folded the paper, then along with the card, stuffed them in her back pocket. "I should find some help. Where do I look?" She stared at the table. "Should I take these things with me?" A small case was also there. She moved her hand to open it, but stopped. "What am I afraid of? I don't know what's in it. So why do I hesitate?"
For the moment, she ignored the enigma and turned to the last object on the table. It was a small silver box shaped like a treasure chest. It had a small raised star the size of a dime on its lid. Kat examined the box then carefully opened it. A tune sweetly rang in her ears. It reminded her of the opening of a classical piece.
"Whose piece does it remind me of? Bach, Beethoven, or Mozart's. I can't remember. It's like the piece is a mixture of several openings." Kat realized something as she struggled with the answer. "I can’t remember my name, but this tune... I know its title and who composed it. It's Ginn L. Irynkissgthie's Unfinished Melody. I also know the names of those other composers." She gazed at the Music Box, hearing nothing but the haunting arrangement of compounded sounds. Unfinished Melody's length was short, only about thirty seconds, and then the piece started over. "Why do I know them when I don't know my own name?"
Kat felt frustrated, afraid, and alone. The more she thought about her lost identity the more terrified she became. "I can't stay here. I have to find help." Unfinished Melody played over and over in a hypnotic flow. "What–" Her fear and anxiety vanished and her body relaxed as the tune lulled her into a trance. "–should–" She slowly closed her eyes and entered a peaceful place within her mind. It was a subconscious oasis. "–I..."
The melody had a calming effect on her, and as she sat there in an ecstatic state, sounds outside of the building became louder and clearer. The wind howled, rustling the leaves of trees and overgrown bushes. A moth repeatedly tapped the glass of a street light drawn to the artificial flame. Four car doors slammed. A cricket chirped, and an owl swooped, landing on a squeaking mouse.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
Her hazel eyes widened as her heart thumped so loud she heard it. Kat put a hand to her chest not in pain, but in horror as she realized something was wrong. She closed the Music Box, placed it in a left thigh pocket, and searched the building. It was still empty. Kat knew she was in danger, but from what? She looked to the case on the table she had ignored. A deep dread lifted in her like a leviathan rising from the ocean's abyss. She froze as she stared at the metal container. What was she afraid of? What was inside the container?
Kat turned her attention back to her pounding heart and the urgency to leave. She thought, "I have to get out of here. But where do I run?"
The longer she waited to act, the more anxious she became. She felt like a deer standing in an open meadow, sensing a predator prowling toward her through the tall grass. Kat feared she could be attacked at any moment and from any direction. Kat got off the cot and started to run when the lamp shattered. The surrounding area plunged into darkness as pieces of the lamp pinged to the concrete floor. She screamed, realizing someone had shot at her and dove as more bullets whizzed overhead. Kat turned the table over for cover, and the case fell, knocking itself open. A metal object clanged to the floor.
Far from the cot, light from the street dimly glowed through Etna’s dusty windows. The light provided limited illumination within the building. Within its radius, she saw a black gun. Kat gasped, staring at the instrument of death that was an arm's length from her. She peeked over the table and spotted two armed men. Kat didn’t know they were bio-mechas. As far as she knew, they were ordinary men trying to kill her. They readied to fire again, and her heart thumped harder as if it would tear through her chest.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
The muscle coursed artificial adrenaline through her blood. The synthetic hormone reacted with her body. It increased her heart rate, dilated her pupils, and elevated her blood sugar. The adrenaline super charged her. Horrified by what was going on with her body and the men shooting at her, she put her hand to her chest again.
"This isn't natural!” she thought. “Why is it beating this way?! And why are those men trying to kill me?!"
She screamed, "Help! Someone help me!"
The two Un-Men paused then moved toward her position after calculating the best way to kill her.
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, 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. It positioned above the Council and in the center of their table. The screen could be viewed from both sides. It displayed an outline of a female body. Each of the major organs were visible on the screen and had bio-data streaming beside them.
An alarm sounded and stopped. In bold red letters at the top of the bio-screen, First Evolvement Achieved, blinked. Prattle between the analysts started as charged enthusiasm filled the Chamber. The supervisors quickly quieted the frivolous talk, knowing their employers would be irritated with the idleness.
"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. "As predicted by both men, Pandora's first stage is the ability to sense the presence of bio-mechas. 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 tapped across a H.H.C. touch screen with a pen stylus and pulled up reports from their operative. "Argus details Pandora has not responded to the Un-Men’s presence." Mr. Decuma turned to his laptop. "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."
Back in Etna Toys...
Heart racing, Kat hid behind the overturned table and continued to wonder, "Why are these men trying to kill me? Why? Did I do something to them?" She glanced at the Beretta lying on the floor not too far from her. It lay beside its open case. "Or maybe I’m a wanted person? Maybe I committed a crime?"
The Un-Men fired again, and one of the bullets grazed her left shoulder. The pain triggered a latent instinct. She scurried to the gun, grabbed a clip sitting in the case, and inserted it. Kat pulled the sliding block, and it made a metal clicking sound. She wildly fired six shots over the cot. She missed. "I don't know what I'm doing. I need to get out of here. Run. I need to..."
She froze at hearing the men’s guns cocking, and something inside her clicked like a switch. The e-field (electrical field) of her body changed. The impulses that normally traveled down the optic nerve surged and caused a split feed. Part of this electricity rushed across her irises, giving her eyes a blue-electrical glow. As if she had been born with a gun in her hand, Kat fired four times and hit one man in the forehead and throat and the other one in the heart and lung. It was like someone had taken over her body. She didn't realize what she was doing until it was over. The one she shot in the head collapsed to his knees and fell back as the other one fired at her.
"Crap! He must be wearing a vest," Kat thought and moved back to the overturned table. She took a deep breath, and rose, returning fire. The bullet hit the second in the head. He also fell to the floor.
Silence followed and it was a maddening silence. It was one that cleared her head, let her think, and let her realize. Her fear turned to uncertainty and uncertainty to self loathing. She sat, leaned against the table, and bowed her head ashamed. In disbelief, Kat stared at the gun resting on her lap. "How is it, I'm good at killing?" Her next thought frightened her and made her sick. "Why do I feel nothing for these men I’ve murdered?" Kat put a hand to her mouth, feeling nauseous. "Is this the kind of person I am? A murderer? An emotionless killer? Sheez! Am I some sort of assassin?"
Within the Chamber...
Mr. Morta cheered. "There!"
Analysts and supervisors high-fived each other.
Mr. Morta looked to the Center Screen as Second Evolvement Achieved flashed brightly. "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. He believes Pandora, when it is in the Beta Phase, 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. "This 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 questioned, "What more do you need to believe?"
Mr. Decuma replied, "More data, perhaps, or..."
Excited, Ms. Nona interrupted with a question, "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 merely luck?" Mr. Decuma questioned. "More than half of the Un-Men remain. Can it defeat them as easily as the first two?"
At Etna Toys...
Leaves and other debris blew in through the open front door. Still feeling queasy, Kat stood and made her way to the men she gunned down. Her eyes crackled with cobalt current in the darkness of the warehouse. She reached the men’s side. A black oil like liquid oozed from the hole in their heads.
"They’re not human, they’re...”
She removed the tinted glasses of one, revealing not fleshy eyes, but glassy robotic ones. The colored orbs shuddered as power surged through its body. The spheres bugged out, and the Un-Man's hands gnarled with the mechanical pangs of death. Kat stared at its eyes. The red rings with black centers showed no spark of life. They were merely windows to the soulless.
"They’re not human," Kat repeated, feeling a little better. "I didn’t kill anyone. I’m not a murderer.”
The queasiness eased up, but her confusion remained as she realized, "They’re bio-mechas, model Un-Men. Why do I know this when I can’t remember the simplest thing like my name?" Kat searched them, found a spare clip on each of them, and placed the ammo in her right thigh pocket.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
Kat sensed more bio-mechas, and this time, she perceived their location. Three of them walked the grounds outside less than fifteen feet away from her. She franticly searched the plant for an escape as the Un-Men split up. One of them walked through a side entrance. The Un-Man fired at her. Kat ran, taking cover behind a row of machinery. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off metal, and she covered her head.
Kat lost her concentration and the position of the other two. She dashed for the front door as more bullets whizzed by. She returned fire and hit her mark then continued for the door. She glanced back at the third Un-Man as it lay in a pool of inky sludge. The last two Un-Men suddenly appeared in the doorway in front of her. She ran into one and fell backwards. With uncanny speed, Kat fired twice before landing on her side. She struck the floor hard and knocked the wind from herself. The first shot disabled the Un-Man with the gun. The one with the Bowie side stepped her second shot with electrical speed as if the Un-Man anticipated her actions before she took them. Kat inhaled, sucking in needed air as she held her hurting ribs.
The Un-Man drew its Bowie and stared at her curiously. None of the others had done that. Its dot-light glowed brighter and brighter until it appeared as if half its face burned. "The Pandora Project..." the Un-Man sang out, not in the usual monotone of its brethren. The orange colored dot-light changed to deep red, blood-red, and the Un-Man gazed at her as if probing her soul. "Pandora..." Its voice was sadistically mellow and toyed with her, making her feel violated. "Pandora, I have found you." The Un-Man smiled as if it took pleasure in the hunt. "Target acquired." It took a step as she scurried backward on her hands and feet. "Moving forward with termination." The Un-Man lunged for her with the blade.
Kat rolled out of the way, and the blade struck concrete. She rose to one knee, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Click. The gun was empty. Click. Click. She pulled the trigger again and again, hoping a bullet would magically materialize and fire. The Un-Man slowly stood from its kneeling position, took two quick steps, and kicked her in the ribs. She grabbed her side, rolling to her feet as the Un-Man slashed toward her. Kat leaped back, defensively lifted her hands, and the blade cut across her left forearm. She cried out in pain as blood spilt to the gray floor.
The Un-Man wiped the red plasma from the Bowie with its fingers. Its face beamed, relishing in the combat. "The Pandora Project," it whispered, fooling with her. "Pan–dora..." The Un-Man attacked with the blade. Swish. Swish. The air screamed with each slash. "Pan-dora, I have found you."
She evaded the attacks and ran, rushing deeper into the dark building. "Why does it call me the Pandora Project? I thought my name was Kat." She ejected the empty clip from the Beretta, dropped it to the floor, and pulled one from her pocket. "Crap! Why can’t I hit it?" She inserted the new one in the magazine well, chambered a round, and fired twice behind herself. The Un-Man continued after her, ducking the shots. "Is this what I was dreaming of?" Kat wondered as she found another door and fled outside. "I wasn’t the predator, but the prey."
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. Once it has achieved all the phases, Pandora will be the perfect weapon." He drummed his fingers together. "Set up another test, so we may analyze the range of its gifts and set Pandora down the path to perfection."
Mr. Decuma nodded and typed up the documentation for the next test. He asked the male supervisor standing next to him, "Are the new reports on the project ready?"
"They’ll be right over," he answered.
Within a minute, the supervisor approached. "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 added, “I was talking about Pandora.”
"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. "It has none."
"Of course, Mr. Decuma." The supervisor handed him the H.H.C. "My error. It will not happen again.” He returned to monitoring the analysts.
Ms. Nona scanned the bio-data on the large center monitor. "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."
"Yes, some of those could be a problem," 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. "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 said. "The Factory’s earlier line of bodyguards was very profitable for the Sphinx Corporation. 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 programing." He smiled, pleased with the project. "With Pandora's help, the Factory will be able to create the perfect killing machine."
The female supervisor handed Ms. Nona a report. "There seems to be a problem." The Council woman read over the H.H.C. "Pandora has been unable to disable one of the Un-Men." Ms. Nona rechecked the report. "It is a Type Four model."
"Terminate the test," Mr. Morta ordered, sitting upright. "Request that the Factory recall its bio-mecha. For Pandora to have destroyed four of the five Un-Men is not a failure."
"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 said and thought, "This Un-Man must be exceptional to survive so long against Pandora. This 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." Calmly, Mr. Morta folded his hands and leaned back in the chair. "Pandora must learn to survive on its own." He thought, "Anyway, we not only need to develop Pandora’s body, but its character. And what better way to develop character than to face adversity. In the past, great warriors went up against other great warriors to see who was better and test their mettle. Strength and endurance grows through conflict just as steel sharpens steel. 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 about a hundred years ago, the Corporate Senate (the world’s ruling body based in the city) divided Noir into hundreds of sectors. Each sector was owned and governed by a corporation. 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. A mile high and half mile across and back this building 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. In her left hand, she held a key chain of a pink bunny rabbit. She rubbed her thumb over a worn spot on the rabbit’s cheery face. She, Kimberly Griffin, raked her long blonde hair behind her ear and rubbed her eye. She looked at a man’s picture on the cover of the Conglomerate World magazine lying on a coffee table. The headline read, Topa, Climbing the Ladder of Success?
She shifted position on the light brown couch and glanced at the secretary. The older woman typed on a keyboard. Kim sighed, impatient, and turned her gaze to a few landscape paintings decorating the open room’s white walls. Their purpose was to soothe those who waited. They were supposed to take one’s mind away from the stresses of the day. The paintings incited no such solace in her. She sighed again and turned to the secretary as the woman answered the phone on her desk.
The secretary hung up and cleared her throat. "Ms. Griffin your father..." The secretary caught herself and said, "I’m sorry, I mean the Chairman will see you now."
Kim nodded, too tired to be irritated, straightened her aqua pant suit, and headed for the huge corner office. The Chairman’s position ranked third under the President and Vice President. Since Sphinx was one of the more powerful corporations in the world, that made her father a very influential man with vast resources and global connections. Kim paused outside his office, vexed to have been called in. She had just returned from the Light Side of the planet and was wanting to go home and sleep. She took a deep breath, silencing her anger, opened the door, and walked in.
Two of the walls within the office consisted of ten foot high windows. The office’s bright lights reflected off the windows like mirrors. The Chairman’s desk sat off from the corner, giving him even more presence of authority like a king on a throne. Kim closed the door.
The Chairman glanced up from a computer and stared at her with his light blue eyes as she entered. He was in his late sixties, but looked younger around fifty. He wore a dark gray suit. "Kimberly, good to see you," he said, stood, walked to her, and kissed her on the cheek.
She didn’t return his affection and almost turned from him repulsed. The Chairman tried not to show his disappointment as he motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. She sat as he returned to his seat.
"Are you still living in the apartment off of West 1000 Avenue?" he questioned.
Kim felt uneasy being in his office, but bore the discomfort. She noticed his graying black hair. "Yes."
The Chairman waited a moment before continuing, hoping she would say something. When she only stared at him, he asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"
She didn’t answer as she thought, "As if I have time for a boyfriend, but that’s none of his business."
He quickly moved to the next question, feeling awkward in front of his daughter. "How’s work?"
Still showing a bit of fatigue, she answered, "Fine. I finished a Closing in Moscow three days ago." Her face softened as she glanced at the bunny rabbit.
The Chairman thought he saw a glimmer of sadness. "Are you all..."
Kim glared at him, stifling his question as her vexation returned. She knew she was getting too upset and let her training take over. Kim calmed herself and tried to treat him as if he was her employer. It worked for a few seconds. She glanced at the back of a picture frame sitting on his desk and her anger returned. "You didn’t call me in here because you suddenly have an interest in my life."
The Chairman said, "Right, to business then." He handed her an envelope.
Kim opened it and saw a brass key inside.
"It’s to your mother’s hope chest." He picked up the picture frame. "How you look like her." The Chairman set it back down as happy memories flooded his mind. "I know she would want 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 didn't understand her meaning and questioned, "Why now?"
"All these years since mom..." She paused, trying not to cry. "Since mom abandoned us, you've never wanted to talk about her. Her name became taboo around you. So, why now after two decades? Why give me her hope chest? What has changed?" Her eyes narrowed as she grew suspicious of his actions. "I know it isn’t our relationship. So, what is it? Are you going to talk about why she left us?"
He replied, "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. For that, I’m sorry."
"Sorry." She laughed. "Perfect, now everything’s fine." Kim stood and added sarcastically, "I’m glad I came." She started for the door.
"Do you have to leave? I thought we might have a late dinner and talk."
She walked half way to the door and turned. "I can’t. I have a Closing tomorrow and need to get some rest."
"A Closing? Who?"
"Topa."
The Chairman stated, "Yes, I know him."
"Thought you did." She started to turn toward the door and paused. "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–" The words slithered from her mouth. "–my profession." Kim fisted her hands. "What kind of father has his daughter trained to be an..." She glared at him too angry to finish.
This time, he had nothing to say.
Kim continued to the door.
The Chairman stood. "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."
"So, you have been spying on me!" Kim paused at the door as if to say something more, decided against it, and left.
He sat down and faced the picture. "How you look like your mother." He pushed his chair back and commanded, "Lights dim." The room darkened and the Chairman turned in his seat, staring out a window at Noir’s skyline. He gazed at the Dry Clouds as they loomed over the dark city. "I wish you were here, Theresa. Our daughter needs you."
* * *
"Sometimes..."
Kim drove her red VX Corvette into the parking garage of the Nexus Apartments. The small forty story building sat on the corner of West 1000 Avenue and Knot Street in the Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage. Kim exited the vehicle and grabbed a bag of groceries from her trunk. She took an empty elevator to the thirty-first floor and walked down a deserted hall to Apartment H.
"Sometimes I..." Kim thought and commanded, "Door, unlock."
"Voice recognized as Kimberly Griffin," the Apartment Computer System stated. "Opening door."
The apartment door slid sideways, Kim walked into the small entry, and commanded, "Door lock."
The door slid shut and locked as she went into the kitchen. The lights automatically flickered on in each room she entered as the Apartment Computer System or A.C.S. detected her presence.
"Welcome back, Ms. Griffin," A.C.S. stated 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 kicked on, and the lights brightened. Kim set down the bag and laid the key chain beside it on the kitchen counter. She put both of her hands on the inky-black surface, leaned against it, and tilted her head down. "Sometimes I wish..." Her blonde hair fell forward, covering the side of her face as she peered at her reflection in the marble.
"For Ares’ sake! My life’s so tedious." Kim leaned back. "All I have is routine." She started to unpack the bag and glanced around the dark lifeless room. It was quiet in a gloomy way. She looked to one of three windows in the apartment. Kim noticed a dead Transgenic Vine sitting on the kitchen window sill.
"Great, just great! 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." She walked over to the vine, picked up the pot, and several brown leaves fell to the floor. Kim moved to the trash can and pressed the step. It flipped up a stainless steel lid. The brittle brown plant fell out of its container as Kim dropped the pot in the waste. Dirt spilled, exposing the vine’s roots. She stared at the dead plant. "Can’t I keep one thing alive?" Kim released the lid and walked away from the trash. "Or are Closings all I’m good at?"
She returned to her groceries. Kim put the eggs and milk in the refrigerator and put the dry goods in the pantry. She placed a stainless steel kettle full of water on the burner and turned it on high. She reached up into the cupboard, removed a white cup and saucer, and placed them on the counter. She walked to a drawer, opened it, and grabbed a spoon. "Is this really my life?" Kim noticed her reflection in the spoon’s curved surface. "It’s so mundane and lonely. Sometimes I wish..."
Kim placed a single tea bag in the solitary cup and a slice of lemon on the saucer. "Sometimes I wish..." She glanced at the answering machine as the water started to boil. The number on the machine was zero messages. It was the number of her friends and the same number of her acquaintances. The kettle whistled, she removed it from the burner, poured hot water into the cup, and steam rolled 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..." Kim dared not think it. She dared not hope it.
She grabbed a remote from the counter and aimed the device at the wall. She clicked on a 50 inch TV that hung over a fireplace and gazed at the picture from the open kitchen. The evening news was on, showing footage of a small office building on fire. Kim moved behind a black leather couch and watched the blaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the first door in the hallway, walked to the room, started to command it to unlock, but stopped. "Sometimes..." She pulled on her left earlobe. "I wish..."
The spare bedroom remained locked since she first closed it. Kim stored her mother’s belongings in it. Her bedroom, the master bedroom, was down the hall. She returned to the kitchen, grabbed the remote, and looked to the TV. An anchorwoman, Linda Harvey with NBS (Noir Broadcasting Station) read 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 paused. "In other news, Dr. Robert Seeker, the foremost expert on the Dry Clouds problem, will be heading out to Antarctica to..."
Kim turned off the TV, plunging the room back into silence. "Enough with the news. My life's miserable enough without having to hear about someone else's." She picked up the saucer and cup, walked to a small round table, and sat, staring out the window. The Dry Clouds entombed the starry sky, leaving the night dismal and bleak just like her life. Kim picked up a clear plastic container of honey that was in the shape of a bear. She popped open the yellow lid and squirted a smiley face on the spoon with the golden sugar. She whispered a phrase her mother used to say. "Fly... fly away, sad, sad, day."
Kim stirred the honey in her Orange Pekoe, removed the tea bag, placed it on the saucer, and stared at the now warm brown liquid. "Used to, that phrase would cheer me up, but not anymore." She arched her head back, looking at the ceiling. "Hades... What a life I have."
She opened her hand and gazed at a star burned into her right palm. "The only constant in my life seems to be you. You’ve been with me for nearly two decades. I don't remember where I got you." She made a fist and opened her 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!" She slammed a fist on the table, and the tea cup rattled. "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...
A laptop sitting on a desk in Kim's bedroom screeched like a bird and alerted her to an incoming message. "No," she whined, placed a pillow on her face, and rolled over. "It can’t be morning."
A screen saver of a flaming bird flew across the laptop. The fiery glow lit up the dark room. After a few minutes, she dragged herself out of bed. She put on a white housecoat and slippers, fixed a cup of hot chocolate, and sat down at the desk. She hit the space bar, woke up the computer, and clicked on the message.
It read, "Have you accepted the Closing?"
"So Voice, you’re up early this morning," Kim thought and took a sip of the hot chocolate. "Or maybe you’re up late, depending on where in the world you're sending this message from."
She typed a reply. "Yes."
"I’ll send an encrypted e-mail with directions," Voice typed back. "He should be in his office for most of the morning."
"Standard operation?"
"Yes."
"Understood." Kim pushed her chair back, but the computer’s beep grabbed her attention.
"You should take a break after this Closing," Voice wrote. "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 typed and a minute passed before writing, "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, Voice."
"How long ago was that?" Kim wondered.
She typed, "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. Anyway, those of us on the Light Side still have work that must be done on the Dark Half. You aren't the only Closer there that belongs to the League."
She stretched, yawned, and typed, "Will contact you this evening. Signing off."
Kim went into the kitchen and thought, "Maybe I do need a break." She noticed the key chain on the counter, thought back to the Moscow assignment, and brooded. "The last Closing got to me." Kim grabbed the key chain, walked to the living room, and moved to a bookcase beside the fireplace. She placed the key chain in a wooden box sitting on a shelf and glanced at a picture frame with a photo of Theresa Griffin. Kim and her mother could have been twins. "Mom, if you were here, what would you think of me? What would you think of my pathetic life?"
Chapter Four
Topa’s Estate
8:48 A.M...
On the outskirts of the Hellenistic Sector...
Topa’s estate stood in the midst of an apple orchard. Sunlamps lit up the imported trees as a gentle wind swept through the orchard’s green leaves. The lamps were on sixteen hours and off eight. The non-Transgenic trees would starve in the endless night without them.
"You will pay," Kat thought, walking up a winding path from the darkness of the day. "I swear, you'll pay!"
The path led to the square mile estate. The past year’s nonstop hunts, what the Council called tests, took their toll on Kat mentally and physically. Her pants and shoes (those she had on when she awoke in Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse) were worn. She removed a single strap backpack and unzipped a gray-black athletic jacket. It covered her dingy white t-shirt and protected her from the cool breezy air. She took off the jacket. Kat removed a black Ravlek Vest she had on the outside of the backpack and put it on. Ravlek was an experimental material like Kevlar, but generations ahead. Months ago, Kat acquired the body armor from an assassin who died from a fall. She set the backpack and the jacket beside a dead gnarled oak. The tree was a remnant from the sun era.
She continued up the path toward the objective. The constant struggle between her and the Un-Men seemed to persist for ages. She was always the prey. Kat was always running and hiding, but not this time. Her foes (the Council, who sent human assassins and the Factory, who sent the Un-Men after her) remained in the shadows and beyond her reach.
"Today is different," Kat thought. "I know one of their names. I know one of their places of safety." She gripped the Beretta, and in her left hand she carried a white Bible smeared with blood. "Topa, you will pay!" Rage fueled her exhausted body, revenge fixated her mind, and anguish ripped at her soul. "You'll die this day! I swear it! You took the most precious thing in the world from me!" She stared at the Bible as she slowly died inside. "For Preacher, I'll kill you!!"
Behind an iron gate, four men, armed with hand guns, stood beside a brick guardhouse. The gate was the eastern of four entrances. 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. The masks permitted those not used to the Dark Half of the planet to work outside in the Dry Clouds’ pollution.
The lead guard pressed a button on the side of his WM-B and shouted through the mask’s intercom, "Halt! State your name and business here!"
Kat didn’t respond, consumed with a murderous grief and continued her war march toward the gate.
The four men aimed their weapons at her as the lead guard shouted, "She’s wearing a vest. Switch to A.P.Rs."
The four men ejected their 9 mm clips and replaced them with the Armor Piercing Rounds.
The lead guard declared, "We'll open fire if you don’t state your name and business here!"
"My name?!" Kat questioned. "My name?! I'm Sorrow! I'm Emptiness!"
"She has a gun!" the lead guard shouted. "Take her out!"
The four men shot at her, hitting her in the chest. She lurched back with the impacts, cried out in pain, and fell face down to the path. Fireflies danced about her and the surrounding area, paying no heed it was morning.
The lead guard ordered, “You two, go check on her.”
They stepped out of the gate, scanned the surrounding darkness, and approached her. The second guard rolled her over, and she moaned. Blood covered her shirt underneath the vest.
"She’s as good as gone." The second guard reached down, took her weapon, and tucked it in the front waistband of his pants. He grabbed the Bible. "This book could be valuable." He searched her pockets then scanned the area again. "She isn't a Closer. She must be a nut job. See anyone else?"
"No,” the third guard replied. “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 Bible he held. "A book covered in blood."
"A book you say. Is it legal?" the maskless guard asked.
The second opened the cover and peered at a paper tucked in a clear plastic pocket. "Yeah, it’s legal. Here’s its registration." He read the top. "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 and walked over to Kat. "Throw that archaic thing away before you get some disease." He snarled his nose up at her. "She looks like she’s from Wayfaring Lane." He spat on her. "Bums, the lot of ‘em."
"I thought I might get some money for the book off the black market," the second said.
The maskless guard folded his arms and shook his head. "Not from that thing you won’t. It’s trash." He threw his thumb over his shoulder. "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 started to bring a radio up to his mouth.
"I wouldn’t do that just yet," Kat said to get his attention as she grabbed a hand full of dirt. She quickly stood and threw the dirt into his face.
The maskless guard cried out, covering his eyes with his hands. "I can’t see!"
"How's she standing?" the lead guard shouted as he drew his gun. "The A.P.Rs. should have killed her!"
"I thought she was dead!" The third aimed his weapon. "She’s covered in blood!"
Kat held her chest in pain from the four earlier bullet impacts that struck her Ravlek Vest. "It’s not my blood." She leaped up, spin kicked the third guard in the temple, and yelled, "Why do you think I’m here?!"
The third guard fell to the ground out cold as the lead and second guard shot at her. She rolled with extraordinary speed, evaded their fire, and raced to the lead guard as he shot again. The bullet nicked her earlobe. Kat grabbed his wavy hair, whacked the side of his head into the brick guardhouse, and side kicked the second guard in the stomach. The lead guard slid down the brick wall, landing in a heap. Blood covered his forehead. The second guard bent over in pain after she had kicked him. Kat calmly approached the second guard. She took her gun from his waistband, pulled his mask down, and punched him in the face. He started to choke without the mask.
"I can’t see," the remaining guard screamed again. "What’s going on?"
Kat marched over to the blinded man, placed the barrel of the gun against his jaw, and took his weapon. She demanded, "Where’s Topa?"
"I won’t tell you."
With calm resolve, she leaned to him and whispered, "I’m only here to kill him." She put her hand on his back, pulling herself close to his ear. "Tell me, and I’ll let you live."
Sweat beaded his forehead, and a salty droplet ran down his face, landing on her barrel. He squinted and looked to the fallen guards, but only saw blurred images. "Live like the others?"
She glanced at one as that guard moaned. "They're alive. Now... Where’s Topa?"
"I won’t..."