Slacker- Part One by: Moongoddess Esther is certain she can remake her good for nothing, slacker of a son into a worthwhile and industrious member of society. Artie… well…

This story is dedicated to Cyclist for the profound and astounding story ‘Sweat and Tears’. Thank you also to Bailey Summers for Beta reading... Image is copyright SuperArtistbOy. All characters copyright 2011.

Esther came home from a hard day at the office to find her 19 year old son Artie, stoned on the couch, playing video games and surrounded by junk food wrappers and trash. She started to fume.

“Did you go to school today Artie?” she asked fully knowing the answer. The boy shook his head. Esther gritted her teeth and bit back on her anger.

“What did you do then son?” she asked a little more forcefully, demanding his attention. Artie looked at her quizzically from under his VR headset.

“Uh… I got up at noon, skated down to Game Stop, got a copy of Call of Duty 8, came home and blazed, then played multiplayer till now… when’s dinner?” he looked expectant.

Esther bit her tongue.

“Artie… oh damn!” she stormed back out of the house. Artie looked blankly at the door.
“What about dinner?” he asked no one in particular and went back to his game.

Esther sat alone at a small table in the bar where she had gone to have a drink and try to regain her composure. Artie had developed the ability to make her so angry without him doing anything at all. She thought back to the young boy Artie had been, so clever and polite and smart… he had been a genius. Then he became a teenager and everything had changed, her neat, tidy, clean boy had turned, almost overnight into the greasy, smelly, hairy, pot smoking… Slacker that was on her couch right now...

He had so much potential, but now he didn’t even care whether he had a job or an education or anything… And so much of it was her fault, Esther thought, ‘I coddled him and didn’t ask anything of him after his father died. I wish I could give him a second chance.’ She sat up straight in her chair, eyes bright with inspiration and alcohol.
‘A second chance!’ she smiled to herself and exited the bar to go to her place of business.

Esther was by no stretch of the imagination poor, her departed husband had left her his biomedical company and she had built it up to a near multinational in the years since. She may not have had her late husband’s genius in the lab, but her business skills were second to none. Tonight’s visit however, had nothing to do with spreadsheets and mergers, but a visit to one of the R&D labs. Esther had been following this project with interest, because if successful, not only would it ease a lot of mental and physical suffering, but make a fantastic profit for the company as well.

Human trials had just been approved by the FDA and were scheduled to begin shortly, so Esther felt well within her rights to begin them a little earlier and closer to home. She went to the medicine refrigeration cabinet and entered her code into the locking mechanism. She took an injector and the dose module and closed the cabinet. Smiling at her own cleverness, she turned out the lights and headed home.

Esther woke with a mild hangover and hazy memories of the previous night. She heard snoring coming from the next room. ‘Good, now I can give my child the second chance he... she deserves.’ She thought happily. From what Esther had read about the research, she could give the subject the treatment and it would start really taking effect in 24 hours or so… Perfect!

She walked into Artie’s room and pressed the injector into his forearm with a mild hiss. The boy didn’t even move.

It was just shy of noon when Artie rolled out of bed and into the kitchen. Esther noted with some disgust that he was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing for the last three days, but she still forced herself to be cheerful and pleasant.

“Sleep well Artie?” she asked with a smile. He blinked bloodshot eyes at her and grunted something that may have been English. Esther tightened her smile and pretended concern.

“Oh I hope you are ok sweetheart, maybe you need to get out of the house and be with your friends for a bit.” She opened her purse and took out a small wad of bills, “here, go to the beach or the movies or something darling, have some fun.” Artie brushed his greasy long hair from in front of his eyes and looked at his mother like she had two heads.

Uh… ok,” he mumbled through his cottonmouth, “if you’re sure it’s ok.” He took the money and shuffled out the front door. Esther waited till he was out of sight and called the number she had written down by the phone.

Esther had been very industrious that day, having boxes of Artie’s clothing and possessions boxed up and removed, getting painters to finish quickly and generally giving Artie’s rooms a total makeover. It was almost a pity when Artie stumbled up to bed, too wasted to notice that anything had changed at all. He shed his outer layer of clothing and collapsed onto the bed in his boxers.

Sometime around two am, the drug that his mother had injected him with started to take effect. First on his skeletal structure it narrowed his shoulders, widened his pelvis, and softened his jaw line and brow. His ribcage shrank as well giving his frame an overall slender look.

When his mother looked in at 8 am, the process was starting on his soft tissues and muscles; she quietly picked up his filthy boy clothes and closed the door on her soon to be daughter. Over the next twelve hours, Artie’s internal organs shifted and made space for her new internal reproductive tract, prostrate to uterus, testes to ovaries, penis to clitoris, and scrotum to labia. Artie’s body envaginated between her legs and completed the process, finally, adipose tissues formed beneath the skin, smoothing her new curves and gathering at the breasts and buttocks.

The little hair Artie had once had on her face and body became finer and very blond, the few coarse whiskers falling out. The hair on her head remained the same, its changes taking place at the roots. To look at her, you would think that she had been born female with only the greasy hair and stale body odor to give lie to the illusion. The changes to the body were nearing completion, with only a few trillion chromosomes to still change from Y to X. Artie slept on, neither knowing or caring about her incredible metamorphosis…

Esther checked in on her daughter around ten pm and was thrilled to see that her plan was working. She went happily to bed, to dream of the new wonderful life ahead for them both. Bright and early at eight am, Esther went to wake her daughter.

“Wake up sweetheart!” she greeted the sleeping form, “it’s a bright new beautiful day!” she got a face full of dirty boxer shorts in as a reward. She went over and shook the girl softly.

“Fuck off, leave me alone.” The sleeping figure buried her face in the pillows. Esther’s smile faded a bit but she remained positive.

“Alright darling, breakfast will be ready soon.” She left the room and closed the door.

Artie slept another two hours before dragging herself out of bed. She sat down on the toilet and just went, cleaning herself in a desultory manner after. She grabbed the robe on the back of the door, never noticing that it was a peach coloured silk creation and went into her room… she pried up the floorboards on the left side of her bed and got her stash. Artie quickly rolled and lit her first joint of the day.

“Oh yeah!” she croaked, “Wake and bake,” and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Esther looked up from her coffee and newspaper, at first with interest, then dismay as she saw her wonderful new daughter stumble down the staircase, naked except for a silk robe that was untied and covering nothing. Her jaw dropped.

“‘Sup?” Artie grunted and made a beeline for the coffee maker, “why’re you home?” she took a big slug of the coffee from the mug she had poured. Esther struggled to regain her composure.

“I…uh…I thought we might spend some time together,” she stammered a little at first, “we haven’t done that for a while, you know go to the mall, have dinner, see a film?” sea blue eyes peered at Esther through a curtain of thick black hair.

“Huh… weird.” another grunt, “Are you dying?” Artie asked. Esther snapped head around in shock.

“No! Why would you think that?!” she huffed. Artie nodded slowly.

“Am I?” Artie blinked, “cause I feel really weird.” Esther’s brain reeled, could Artie not have noticed?

She stood up and guided Artie to a chair. “Weird how dear, like the flu weird?” She sat down again. Artie just sorta waved her hands around to indicate everywhere.

“No… I feel sorta off, all over…” Esther took Artie’s hand and held it to Artie’s face. The girl’s eyes widened.

“What’s wrong with me?” Artie whispered, “what the hell kind of flu does this?” she felt her face and body. “No frackking way, I’m a girl? Why am I a girl?” her hands continued to explore.

“Ohhhhh wow!” she giggled, “ohhhhh Fuck yeah!” Esther grabbed Artie’s hands before the girl could continue her explorations.

“Enough of that please.” Esther glared, “this wasn’t flu… I did this to you… to give you a second chance. Now you can live up to your potential!” Artie blinked, and then shrugged.

“Whatever dude… my friends always said you were making me into a pussy…guess they were right.” She shrugged again, stood and walked upstairs. Esther jumped up from her chair.

“But what about your second chance?” she sputtered. The girl on the stairs paused and shrugged.

Artie walked back up the stairs to her room and looked at what had been done to it. It was vomit inducing, all pinks and purples and a canopy bed? ‘WTF does she think, that I’m not nineteen?’ Artie sat on the bed to think, she was furious with her mother, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of going along with this ‘second chance’ plan of her mother’s.

‘What prompted this anyways?’ Artie thought, ‘After dad died, she was so busy with that company of hers, she never gave me a second thought. She would just toss money at me and expected me to raise myself… Shit! She thinks this is good parenting? She didn’t like who I was so start over? If I wasn’t baked, I’d be furious!’ she giggled and was startled by the sound of her voice.

“Whoa! Trippy!” she giggled again, then frowned. ‘Good thing mom did just toss money at me, cause I’m gonna need some.’ She thought as she walked to her closet praying that Elise hadn’t looked too closely at the room when the fast forward renovation had happened. Artie crawled into the back of the closet and felt around till she found the wing nuts holding her ‘vault’ closed. To anyone looking at the bottom of the closet, it looked like a cold air return; Artie had turned it into a place to store things she didn’t want anyone (mother) to find. In fact Artie had bolt holes all over the house from the attic to the basement.

This one though, she kept money in. Contrary to her mother’s beliefs, Artie was still very smart and thrifty as well. At best guess, in the past seven years since her father died, his mother had given him in excess of fifteen thousand dollars. Artie had indulged in some day trading and managed to turn that over into about seventy five thousand dollars, give or take. Dumb stoner, huh?

She grabbed three thousand from the lockbox and re-sealed her hiding place. Now, as Artie expected, all her regular clothes were missing: replaced by this girly shit. ‘Dresses? Sheyeah, right…’ she thought scornfully, grabbing a pair of Capris, ‘now these denim things have possibilities though, almost board shorts.’ There was a knock at her bedroom door which she patiently ignored, ‘Now, something to cover up these… things and a couple of large shirts.’ She padded quietly to the fancy dresser and started tossing its contents across the room. She held up something that looked like jockey shorts without a fly and pulled them on. Two tight tee-shirts later and Artie felt reasonably covered.

Scissors were where she expected, in her desk, ‘mom really didn’t think this one through’ Artie sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed and started to cut the denims down to just below knee level. Artie paused for a moment and lit a roached joint she had, taking two or three deep tokes. She would have to lay in a couple of ounces of a good strong sativa just to keep her cool, even though she felt like bawling, ‘I won’t give her the satisfaction’ Artie thought savagely. With the shorts finished, she tried them on and looked in the mirror.

‘Gah! I look like a twinkie!’ she thought furiously for a moment, ‘The attic! There’s old stuff up there from back when… dad was still with us…’ she turned her thoughts away from that path and dragged her desk chair to the closet. There were two attic access hatches in the house, which could work out well for Artie, especially as the other access was in the guest bedroom across the hall… the guest bedroom where the big tree was nearest. Also, if her mom thought Artie was in her room, sneaking in and out would be a snap.

Her smile widened as she climbed up through the trap door in the ceiling, it was warm and bright with dust motes dancing in the sunlight of the front window. Artie had loved coming up here with her father when she was younger, errands to find photographs, Christmas ornaments, and old games. She shook her head and headed towards the boxes of clothing that was stored for reuse or recycling, but mostly her dad’s stuff that they couldn’t part with after he passed.

Artie dug through several boxes before she found a long sleeved tee, a hoodie and a flannel shirt… these would work. In another box a fanny pack and Score! Dad’s old RayBans! Shoes were gonna be a problem though. She dug around in the boxes for a bit before she found some small navy blue deck shoes that looked like they might fit. Artie headed to the other trap door when she stopped in her tracks, ‘Argh! My boards… mom will have gotten rid of them by now… SHIT!’ she looked around, where was it; it had to be here… and ‘Yes! In the corner by my first bike, now I’m glad mom was all nostalgic about saving stuff!’ she grinned happily as she dug out her first skateboard and headed down the trapdoor into the guest bedroom.

Finally dressed now, Artie took a look in the mirror. With the hood up and the RayBans, she almost looked like a skinny guy. She checked her waist pouch and made sure her money and stash was secure before zipping it closed. Last thing she checked was the board, the trucks had flex and play, but the bearings were nearly seized…Damn! Where could she find some oil… the garage was out so it was the 7-11 around the corner or nothing.

Artie unlocked the window and slid the sash quietly up, grabbing her board; she slipped out the window onto a large bough and gently slid the window closed. She almost lost her footing as he balance seemed to be off. Artie snorted quietly to herself and worked her way down the tree to the ground. As soon as she was sure she had not been seen, Artie bolted around the hedge and down the street as fast as her now shorter stride would take her.

Inside the house, Esther was starting to worry about the lack of sound coming from her new daughter’s room. Artie’s reaction to her second chance had been less then promising, she had barely acknowledged the changes to her body and had acted like it didn’t even matter that Esther had gone through such an effort to make Artie’s life better. The more Esther thought about it, the more irritated she got with her child, ‘rude girl, coming down here dressed like that and touching herself and was she stoned again?’ she fumed and stormed up the stairs to Artie’s room.

She tried the door but found it locked, well no worry, she had a key and wasn’t afraid to use it, especially today. Esther unlocked the door and pushed it open only to find sheer chaos, the drawers in the dresser were all pulled out and clothing was strewn everywhere. The closet was disarrayed and there was evidence of clothing being cut on the bed. The one thing that wasn’t there was her daughter, but how? There was no way she could have slipped out of a locked room, and it was a two story drop from her window…

“How did that little stoner manage this?” she wondered aloud.

Artie was less than a block away from the house, sitting on a parking curb, oiling the wheels of the ancient skateboard with the bottle of 3 in 1 she had bought from the 7-11. She lit up a smoke from the pack she had bought from the non-attentive clerk in the store, ‘what the hell,’ she thought, ‘new lungs came with the package’. She coughed a bit and worked till the wheels spun like new. Placing the 3 in 1 into her pouch, she tested out the board. It rolled beautifully but she found her balance still to be a bit weird, she shrugged to herself and headed out of the burbs towards the nearest oasis of civilization, Fairview Mall.

Artie rolled up to the glass doors and popped the tail of the board, catching the front truck smoothly with her right hand. This caught the attention of some of the mallrats hanging and thrashing on the low steps. Artie looked at them and flipped her cigarette towards the parking lot.

“‘Sup?” she grunted, keeping her voice low, “good gear here?” she added nodding towards the mall. The leader looked Artie up and down and gave a half nod.

“West 49th, Source, Wet Seal and a GAP, like if that’s what you wanted?” he half asked. Artie grunted her thanks and went in.

She stowed her board in a locker because rent a cops got all sticky about boards in the mall. She sighed; one of the stores was a girl’s store, so the Skater had seen through her disguise. She decided to start at the GAP and have one of the sales twinkies help her with some underwear that wasn’t all froofy shit like her mom had bought, but first… Timmies!

Extra large 3x3 in hand, Artie braved the ladies section of the GAP feeling totally out of place when a blond girl around her age snuck up with a cheerful “Hi! Can I help you miss?” Artie blushed but was determined.

“Um, I need some underwear and like junk,” she stammered, “stupid airline lost all my stuff…” Artie trailed off. The clerk pouted.

“Oh you poor dear, do you have your sizes?” she consoled Artie insincerely. Artie thought furiously.

“Well no, I’ve been in training for BoardStock and I've lost weight, so I want to be sure I have good sports underwear for the competition.” The saleswoman arched her eyebrow.

“I… see, and you want to try these on in the store.” The clerk became somewhat less than friendly, “Perhaps you could come back later this evening…?” Artie blushed brightly but fought down her embarrassment and flaring anger.

“What sweetheart?” she smiled savagely, “after I check into my hotel, after a shower perhaps? I am well aware that I am not fresh as a daisy. Not that I have to explain anything to you, but I have been training for a sports competition, I was on a long flight and I have no clean clothing.” Artie looked the blond girl directly in the eye, “Now get your manager and you can explain to him or her why you are willing to let a large sale walk out the door and why you don’t seem to want your commission on that sale. I’ll wait right here.”

The clerk almost ran to the office door across the store. ‘Damn, the last thing I wanted was attention.’ Artie thought angrily. The clerk returned with a twenty something woman in tow, Artie took about five hundred dollars in fifties and twenties out of her pouch and started counting it casually. The manager slowed and walked toward Artie, regaining her composure.

“Good afternoon Miss?” The manager, Elizabeth by her name-tag, began, “is there a problem I can assist you with?” Artie smiled inwardly.

“Well, before you send your spun candy clerk back to her job of being a decoration,” she snapped, “you might want to teach her not to assume anything about a potential customer. And then Elizabeth, you can find me a saleswoman who understands that all customers are potential commissions and would like to share some of my money. Preferably someone who is an athlete herself, please and thank you.” The manager eyed the cash and shooed the blond towards the cash registers.

“Of course Miss,” Elizabeth used her most soothing tones, “I think Sonya is available to assist you…” she flagged a merchandiser over, “if there are any other problems, please don’t hesitate to ask me for help. Ahh Sonya, if you could assist this customer?”

Elizabeth strode off to the safety of her office as Artie turned to look at the newcomer. Sonya was no twinkie that was for sure. The tattoo sleeve on her right arm was easy proof of that. Standing around 5’8”, she looked out of place in the GAP standard issue sales clothing. Her raven hair was tipped with an almost white blond and pulled back tightly into a bun atop her head. She had eyes the colour of sun cured bud and they danced with amusement at the scene she had just witnessed. Artie would have had a raging hard on if she had seen this girl three days ago, as it was; she had a strange warmth in her belly. Sonya extended her hand.

“Way to put Barbie girl in her place Miss,” Sonya grinned crookedly, “How can I separate you painless from your money?”

Slacker- Part Two by: Moongoddess Esther is certain she can remake her good for nothing, slacker of a son into a worthwhile and industrious member of society. Artie… well…

I would like to thank my Beta Readers, Donjo, Bailey and Lisa for their input and ideas. I'd also like to thank all of you for giving me a place to share my work. Last but not least, I'd like to thank my lovely Muse, Dani for everything she is.
All characters copyright 2011 BolaDesign Studios. Image Copyright SuperArtistbOy.

“Way to put Barbie girl in her place Miss,” Sonya grinned crookedly, “How can I separate you painless from your money?” Artie took the extended hand and smiled back, her anger evaporating.

“Well as I explained to your walking mannequin, the airline lost all my luggage and I need clothing… skin out figured I’d get the basics here before heading to West 49th and Sport Chek for boarding gear.” Artie smiled again. Sonya looked her up and down.

“Sorta figured you for a boarder, you said you’re here for BoardStock?” Sonya asked, “Competing?” Artie nodded.

“Hope too… but like I said, all my gear…” Artie trailed off sourly.

“Yeah, though you kinda look like a board bunny in that outfit,” Sonya grinned her crooked grin again, “tell you what… let’s get you tidied up and I’ll clock out … then I can show you where the real boarders shop… first clue, it’s not a mall. I can tell you’re not from Vansterdam. I’m Sonya, by the way.” She shook Artie’s hand firmly. Artie had a moment of panic… then it dawned on her, keep it simple.

“Nice to meet you Sonya, I’m Marnie.” She smiled. Sonya took her to the underwear section.

“Ok Marnie, did Barbie get your measurements?” Sonya asked, “I need to know what to grab and how much money I’m gonna make today.” She smiled. Marnie smiled back.

“We had just gotten to that discussion when she went all frosty on me… I used to wear a ten,” Marnie pulled a number out of the air, "but I’ve been training for the last four months and most of my old gear was loose… this is Sally Ann surplus.” She indicated what she had on. Sonya clucked her tongue.

“Yeah, Barbara was never really a hands on sorta sales girl.” She turned Marnie towards the change rooms, “We’ll get a tape and figure out what’s best in the basics, then I’mma gonna get all personal shopper on your ass girl.” Marnie giggled, which shocked the hell out of her.

“You have got to be shitting me, her real name is Barbara?” Marnie was astounded. Sonya grinned wickedly as she closed the door behind them.

“Sure as shooting,” she laughed, “I’m not sure if her boyfriend is named Ken though. Her kind doesn’t ‘slum’ with the people.” Sonya looked at Marnie, “Ok, I can’t measure you through the clothes…” Marnie smiled and stripped off her layers to the underwear and Sonya got busy with the tape.

“Cool, 5’7 in socks, hips 37 inches,” Sonya paused to write on a clipboard, “Waist is…26 inches, nice! And bust is 34 inches…” she moved the tape, “ohhh a B cup. Aren’t you just the bucket of sexy?” Sonya laughed and Marnie felt heat in her cheeks, was she blushing?

“Oh get on with it,” Marnie growled with a smile, “you have your specs list and I’m freezing. Can you get me three or four days of unders though, so I can do laundry?” Sonya chuckled, deep in her throat.

“Yes boss lady! But not all from here and not all sports.” She ducked out the fitting room door and left a near naked Marnie alone in front of a full length mirror, alone and rapidly sobering up.

‘So this is me now,’ she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror closely for the first time, ‘Sonya is right… I am sexy… Why isn’t this driving me nuts? I was a guy yesterday…’ she ran through her memories of the day. She could recall things more clearly than usual, even though she had been stoned. ‘Weird, ever since mom showed me my hand… I’ve been calling myself her and she in my mind, accepting that I’m a girl. My balance has been compensating for my t…breasts and hips without even having to think about… what did Mom’s lab monkeys come up with? A girl Captain America serum?’ she filed this though away for further study and turned around to see her bum. ‘Nice… I must send them a thank you note and then beat some answers out of them… ok… calm now. Ewwww my hair is nasty… and I smell… ok… I’m sorry Barbie…’ The change room door opened and Sonya handed her a sports bra and hipsters.

“Put these on, they’re your first purchase,” she said as she gathered Marnie’s original clothing into a cloth drawstring bag, “panties and socks off… do you need a liner?”

Marnie wasn’t sure what Sonya meant, but took a chance and nodded yes. Sonya handed her a packet and left Marnie to find more clothing.

‘Ok gotta do this…’ Marnie thought as she stripped off the underpants and socks. She looked at the plastic wrapped packet and tore it open, ‘this looks straightforward enough… I’m pretty sure the adhesive doesn’t go on the skin’ she shuddered at the image that popped into her mind, ‘so… pull on the underpants and…’ she managed to secure the liner in the crotch of the underwear and pull them snugly up. She held up the sports bra and examined it. ‘Looks like a short, stretchy wife beater…’ and pulled it over her head, unconsciously leaning forward to settle her breasts in the bra. Marnie straightened up and looked in the mirror at the reflection of herself / of a complete stranger and had a momentary surge of dizziness. ‘What the fuck was that?’ she thought before the door opened and Sonya came in with an armload of stuff.

“Ok, I put a selection of underwear at the cash with the tags from what you have on…”she looked at the blank expression on Marnie’s face with concern, “you ok? You look a little pale and weirded out…” Marnie shook herself out of here staring contest with the mirror.

“Yeah… I was just noticing how much I could use a wash, I might even have to apologize to Barbie.” She lied smoothly, “Anyways, what you got there miss Shopper?” Sonya grinned.

“Only the best selection of skater gear the Gap has to offer…” she laughed, “which is to say… not a lot. Ok package of tights, red… the red plaid of your jacket was a good colour for you, so I went with it, red tee shirt with a black tank to go over it loosely, distressed skinnies in black… we’ll get you a belt elsewhere, red socks and voila… get dressed and I’ll meet you at the cash with some other stuff then I’ll take you to a couple of good shops and see if I can find you a sink for your wash up…” Sonya chuckled and left the room.

Marnie picked up the tights and opened the package, they were tiny but stretchy. She struggled for a minute or two, but got them in place. The rest of the procedure was easy and she was slipping he deck shoes over her socks and checking out her reflection again shortly. As she looked at the young woman in the mirror, something in the back of her mind was slightly uncomfortable… everything looked ok and the reflected image seemed relaxed, but something just felt…off. Marnie sighed and gathered up her old clothing in the bag Sonya had left behind, all but the jacket and her hip pack. Checking that she hadn’t forgotten anything, she exited the room and walked to the cash desk at the front of the store.

Sonya had everything rung up by the time Marnie got to the register for a grand total of *gulp* $740.25 and four largish bags of clothing that would actually fit. Opening her pouch, Marnie took out $750.00 and settled up with Sonya, who then ducked into the manager’s office and quickly rejoined Marnie.

“O.K. Marnie, I’ve clocked out… believe me, Liz was happy to let me take the time off.” Sonya smiled mischievously, ‘She’s happier still that I have probably stopped a big customer service hassle. Anything else in the mall you need or are we going more hardcore right away?” Marnie thought for a moment.

“Is there a decent sports store in the mall and an electronics place?” she asked, “cause I need a backpack for this stuff,” she hefted her purchases, “and I need a MP3 player and a netbook. God only knows when Air Canada is gonna cough up my stuff, so I need access to the cloud.” Sonya grinned, which seemed like second nature to her.

“Your wish is my Etc…” she pointed to the Sport Chek and the Future Shop across the mall and down a level, “I can probably get you employee prices at both joints, I have friends in low places… retail, I mean.” She chuckled merrily. Marnie found her spirits being lifted by the gentle good humour of this new… friend?

“Well then, ‘Lay on MacDuff and damned be him that first cries Hold, Enough’,” Marnie tossed out the quote casually. Sonya’s grin threatened to crack her face in half.

“You are so not a board bunny! There’s a brain behind those blue eyes and blond roots,” She pushed Marnie towards the escalator, “dish! Or am I asking too much for a first shopping trip?” Marnie thought for a moment then decided it could be good to have an ally. She shrugged.

“Mom wanted the perfect child, great grades, good looking, and low maintenance. Grades were easy; I loved school and learning, hated the popularity contest that junior and senior high school became.” She shook her head, “I think mom would have been happy with Barbie back there. I started boarding seriously in grade ten. My grades didn’t fall so mom didn’t even notice till just last spring I guess.” She sighed and looked at Sonya. “As long as I was at school or out, everything was fine with her… I barely saw her. But I graduated last spring… she wasn’t even there, and she saw a lot more of me…” Sonya flinched a little.

“And she saw you weren’t her perfect little china doll anymore, right?” Sonya sighed, “And your dad…?” Marnie paled a bit.

“Dad… my daddy,” she actually felt tears stinging her eyes, “he… he passed when I was ten… something he got at his lab I think. Mom threw herself into the company and well… two solitudes.” Marnie took a shaky breath, “anyway, I had some money squirreled away and signed up for competition. Practicing kept me out of her way and gave me a goal to think about, other than our crummy family dynamic.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, “sorry to unload on you like that Sonya, I mean I barely know you…”

Sonya looked at Marnie for a moment and gathered the smaller woman into a hug. Marnie relaxed into the hug and some of the first human contact she had felt for far too long. She felt her tears start and let them go. Sonya just held the sobbing girl till the worst was over, then as Marnie’s crying eased, walked her to the nearest bench and sat her down.

“Better Marnie?” she passed her a tissue, “I could tell you had something bottled up, but wow… did you ever need to meet me!” Sonya smiled and wiped Marnie’s eyes, “good thing you didn’t have your makeup on or you would be a raccoon…” Marnie blew her nose and looked into Sonya’s eyes.

“You are probably the best personal shopper on the planet,” she giggled, “What do I owe you for this?” Sonya snorted.

“Haven’t decided what shrink services are worth yet my new friend,” she smiled a gentle smile, “Yes, friend. You need at least one out here and hey, you seem like a mostly fun, sarcastic gal… I like that.” She held out her hand which Marnie took and shook firmly. “But my new friend Marnie, you do stink, however I have a cure for that.” Sonya dragged her towards the Sport Check.

Esther on the other hand wasn’t feeling quite as calm as her daughter at that moment. It had been over two hours since Artie had somehow got away from the house. Esther was frantic, slowly realizing the enormity of what she had actually done to her own son, what if the serum had killed him? ‘Oh lord! And I took away his very identity… all I could think about was that sweet 10 year old son that David and I had…’ she glanced around the kitchen, trying to hide her tears from herself.

Esther’s eyes landed on an envelope from Artie's high school and desperate for any distraction, she grabbed it and tore it open. It was Artie’s final report card; she scanned the card and the grades… ‘4.0 GPA, honours, Valedictorian… this is what Artie had achieved but I never noticed…’ she closed her eyes and let her tears flow as the years peeled away in her mind and she saw David’s beautiful face again.

Her perfect man, he had given her everything including his deepest love and an amazing son. An amazing son that she hadn’t paid a scrap of attention since David died, so focused on keeping NeilTech going and then growing, keeping David’s dream alive, making sure that Artie wanted for nothing… wanted for nothing but her love, her attention. And it was so hard…seeing David in Artie’s face or gestures; it made Esther’s heart break all over again.

So she kept her family…her son at arm’s length, never saw the man he was becoming… the genius, it seemed… but so was Artie’s father, Artie got a lot of traits from his dad quite honestly… the calm and quiet… the stubbornness… the ability to make her madder than anyone else on earth…
‘That was how David and I met,’ she remembered, ‘at university, I was taking business and he was already a huge lab geek, we had common friends or what did he call them? …Intersecting Venn circles. And we used to fight…well I would fight, he’d debate…used logic too, the cheater. Under the logic was a passion as hot as the sun… he was just so calm… and I fell madly in love with him. We married right after graduation, I worked, he did his post grad and doctoral in biotechnology, and then the startup.’

Those had been lean years for Esther and David but once he made his first major breakthrough, a drought resistant grain for the harshest places on earth, the business boomed and David brought in other brilliant minds… including that aging hippy Milo Samuels, brilliant yes, but not driven. She resented the fact that his ideas formed fully fleshed in his mind… When David had to labour so long to perfect his… but that was NeilTech… she left her job and stayed home to be wife, and soon, mother. Those ten years were bliss her family had been her version of heaven.

Then Milo had his breakthrough, finding the on/off for switch for cancer, but that wasn’t enough... he suggested that the growth switch in cancer could be used to grow genetically identical parts for injured tissue, a carbon copy grown by the body, replacing damaged cells as it went… A healing Cancer… and they did find that healing cancer… too late.

David died of congestive heart failure, three months before the serum was ready for anything beyond lab tests. Esther, in her grief lashed out and in her new position of president of NeilTech, fired Milo Samuels. The Healgen serum was property of NeilTech however and though Milo got wealthy, he didn’t own his own creation.

Esther focused the company on improving and refining Healgen and creating with it, a medical and surgical renaissance. ‘But now I see how that caused a very different illness in my own family’ she breathed a sobbing sigh, ‘we never grieved… I wasn’t there for him… all I saw was a slacker… like I thought Milo was… and then I…’ she couldn’t finish the thought and broke down completely, sliding from her chair to curl up on the floor and howl in the agony she had caused herself.

Sonya dragged Marnie into the Sport Chek and pushed her to the backpacks.

“I have to talk to one of the clerks Marnie,” Sonya explained, “see if you see one you like and I’ll be with you in a minute” and dashed off to the back of the store. Marnie giggled and looked at the selection. A salesman coalesced out of nowhere. He was young, handsome and fit.

“Can I help you find something sweet-cheeks?” he was also a douche, Marnie decided.

“No thank you,” she looked at his name tag, “Bryan. I’m capable of picking out a back pack by myself. After all, it’s not rocket science, is it?” she smiled sweetly. Bryan’s sales smile was replaced by a cocky grin.

“Shhhh, don’t spread it around,” he whispered conspiratorially, “everyone will want my job…” he chuckled, “she said you were quick.” Marnie looked at him with a flash of anger then relaxed when she saw Sonya laughing.

“You Brat!” she yelled, “she put you up to this Bryan? Marnie asked. Bryan laughed.

“Sorry about the sweet-cheeks thing, it’s a pleasure to meet any of Sonya’s friends… she only picks the best you know.” He extended his hand, “Bryan Niven, a pleasure to meet you. Sonya said you could use a bit of a cheer up after losing your luggage and all… did you see anything you liked here?” he said with a genuine smile. Sonya wandered over.

“Oho! Now the Irish Charm comes out does it?” she laughed, “don’t buy this Blarney either Mar. He turns it off and on like water… see what I meant by friends in low places? Oh and by the way Marnie…” she paused, “Neener!” Sonya had a grin that could only be described as shit eating, Bryan nearly fell down laughing and Marnie laughed alongside them.

“You get an ass kicking at the video game of your choice madam.” She caught her breath and pointed at Sonya, “you sir, can grab me that Skullcandy Daylong Backpack board bag there. That will almost make up for your role in her humour.” She grinned at Bryan. Bryan grabbed it down and handed it to her.

“Anything else Marnie?” he smiled. Marnie shook her head but Sonya spoke up.

“Actually yes Bry,” she began, “remember all of those three month, no question, and no obligation passes you guys handed out last month?” Bryan nodded.

“Yeah the deal with Premier Fitness, a pain in the ass,” Bryan growled. Sonya smiled.

“Got any left?” she asked brightly. Bryan nodded again.

“For you Sonya? Sure, how many you want?” he started towards the customer service counter. Sonya and Marnie followed.

“Just one, but could you call Kayla at Premier and tell her it’s no questions?” Sonya added, “It’s just for the locker-room shower for our wayward traveler. Meanwhile, after Marnie is ensconced, you and I need to get her a pay as you go cell, a netbook and an MP3 player.” Bryan grinned.

“Yes General!” he saluted, “I think I know a smart phone that I can lay hands on, then a sim… “He glanced at Marnie, “a combo phone player…a Tb only I’m afraid, is that ok?” Marnie nodded, slack jawed. Sonya patted her chin.

“Ok Bryan, you get on that… put all those items in the bag,” she pointed at the Gap bags on the floor, “And ring up the backpack… then get the phone set up and activated. I’ll take Marnie to Shoppers Drug Mart and get toiletries and then to Premier… I’ll drop her off, get the computer; make a quick stop at Curl Up ‘n Dye and meet you back here. Sound ok?” Bryan snorted.

“Geeze Sonya, plan something hard next time,” he smiled a breezy sort of smile which caused Marnie’s tummy to do an unexpected flip flop; “I can do all of that without leaving my desk here.” He grabbed a coupon and handed it to Marnie, then picked up the phone and started dialing. Sonya pulled Marnie to one side.

“Do you trust me Marnie?” she whispered, “enough to give me six hundred dollars?” Marnie was astounded, no one had ever asked for her trust before and people had abused her trust in the past, most recently, her own mother. But something about Sonya made you trust her and she had been nothing but helpful today. The small discomfort in the back of her mind flared for a moment then died down again as Marnie unzipped her pouch and counted the money out.

“Ok Bry, here’s two hundred fifty dollars for your half of the job,” Sonya handed him the cash, “and now Marnie, off to Shoppers!” She dragged the unresisting girl behind her.

The run through the Drug Supermarket was quick and to the point. Shampoo and conditioner, body wash and scrub puff, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, razors and a combination lock. While Marnie waited in the checkout line, Sonya darted off to get a couple of things. When Marnie was starting to check through, Sonya dumped a few more items on the belt.

“There we are,” she panted slightly, “a couple of essentials…” Marnie saw that Sonya had added an assortment of makeup and both panty liners and tampons. She kept her mouth shut and eyes straight ahead… better to just use this as more camouflage.

“Good Lord, I must be short on sleep, thank you Sonya. I had blanked on the tampons,” she lied, “but the makeup?” Sonya smiled…

“Hey, you’re going to want to guild the lily for the BoardStock Parties, especially if you want to be seen with me girl.” She winked, “now pay the nice lady and lets hit the gym!”

Slacker- Part Three by: Moongoddess In which Marnie makes new friends, contacts an old friend, and a mystery guest signs in...

“‘Everyone who's ever taken a shower has had an idea. It's the person who gets out of the shower, dries off and does something about it who makes a difference.’ - Nolan Bushnell”

Sonya practically dragged Marnie from the Shoppers Drug Mart and headed up a level to the Premier Fitness facility. Marnie stared at the looming glass doors and hesitated for a moment. Sonya looked at her quizzically.

“‘Sup, Babygirl? You look all panicked,” she asked with genuine concern. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Marnie shook herself and gave Sonya a wan smile.

“Sorry, Sonya. I guess today is hitting me pretty hard,” she said, covering her discomfort quickly. “I really need some downtime.” She walked through the door Sonya held for her. Sonya followed her and guided her towards the reception area.

“Hey, Sonya Babe! Is this the first aid that Bryan called about?” the receptionist began to chatter as soon as she set eyes on the two of them. “Hi, you must be Marnie. I’m Kayla!” The red haired girl came around from behind the counter and hugged Marnie, then wrinkled her nose. “And I see why you got Bryan to call. Sorry, Marnie.” Kayla shrugged and smiled again. Marnie had to grin; Kayla reminded her of a chatty bird.

“It’s okay, Kayla… thanks so much for this… you can’t imagine how gross I feel right now.” She teared up a little. “I don’t know what I’d do without Sonya and Bryan and you…” her voice trailed off as she started to choke up. She was surrounded by a hug from behind, which Kayla quickly closed in front. Marnie couldn’t help it and the tears flowed freely again.

‘I don’t ever remember crying this much, even when dad died… but this feels good, like a release of tension,’ Marnie thought as she reigned in the sobbing and straightened up.

“Thought you got that out of your system earlier, Marnie.” Sonya held on for a moment longer, adding, “but you must have needed this. You’ll feel better after you’re cleaned up.” Sonya arched an eyebrow towards Kayla, who scampered back behind the counter, pulled several towels and a clean pair of flip flops from under it and placed them in front of Marnie. Kayla motioned her to take them.

“Okay, Marnie… get your ass to the change room, get clean and feel good,” she said and pointed toward the door in question. “Grab a locker for your stuff, and here…” Kayla handed her a one strap back pack with the club logo on it, “get your stuff out of the Shoppers bags… like, tacky or what? Now Sonya and I are gonna have some fun, so scoot.”

Marnie reluctantly left her … friends behind and approached a place once forbidden to her. As she pushed the door open, a flood of memories came back from her childhood. Sneaking into the girls’ room in public school, the terror of almost being caught, the fascination with everything that was different and the mystery of girls that just became more mysterious with that expedition into the unknown. She felt like fleeing, but forced that down; she was allowed in here now.

She decided to find a locker as close to the showers as possible and, getting there, discovered that the club had a shower caddy in the locker. She loaded this with Shampoo, conditioner, body wash and the scrub puff; the rest of the purchases she loaded into the pack Kayla had given her. Now she started to tremble a little, Marnie knew she was alone in the room but she still felt terrified about undressing.

Taking a deep breath, she removed her shoes and put them into the locker, her jacket and shirts followed. Marnie took care to hang everything neatly in the locker, her clothing had never seemed important before, but this was all so nice, it felt good on her skin. The way everything hugged her, like the jeans, was like being constantly… safe? Marnie worked the jeans off and the tights and socks followed, joining everything neatly in the locker. The bra and panties were last… she hesitated, unsure about being completely naked. Another deep breath and she removed the bra.

“OK ‘Marnie’, Now or never…” she muttered to herself and stepped out of the underwear, picked them up and looked at them. She stripped the old liner out of them and folded them neatly, then wrapped the liner in tissue. She was preoccupied by the combination lock and didn’t even notice when another woman came into the change room.

Marnie stiffened for a moment but then noticed that she was wrapped in a towel and had her shower shoes on. ‘How did that happen? I was naked a moment ago, was memorizing the lock combination and then was startled by the other person coming in. What the hell was in that shit mom put in me?’ She locked the locker, grabbed the caddy and walked carefully to the shower area.

‘Breath kiddo, this is just high school gym class.’ She calmed down and removed the towel and took the caddy to a shelf by a showerhead. She adjusted the water to a comfortable heat and stepped under the falling water. ‘Holy Shit, that feels good,’ she thought as she stretched her shoulders under the hot water, the itch on her skin diminishing rapidly. She squeezed a good portion of the Mango scented bodywash onto the puff and started scrubbing… which didn’t feel great.

~ease back the pressure~

“What?” she said aloud, startled.

~ease back on the puff a bit, it’ll feel better~

There was no one else in the shower area. Marnie did what the… thought(?) suggested and started washing herself with a little more gentleness and found the shower experience becoming much nicer again. She washed herself thoroughly twice, trying her best to either ignore or put away the sensations her new body was sending her till she could think about them later. It was like trying to ignore the tingle of a nine volt battery on your tongue.

She shivered and rinsed herself off and put the bath puff back in the caddy. Now the hair… she grabbed the shampoo and liberally poured out a large palmful. Lather started to attack the greasy strands as she worked to scrub the itch off of her scalp. Great honking tangles started to wash out and down the drain as she worked the foam through each strand, root to tip. Marnie rinsed and immediately lathered up again, this time actually enjoying the experience… the lather, the soft floral scent… it was becoming sensuous.

~not bad, huh? ~

She shook herself out of the reverie and rinsed the lather down the drain… conditioner… this was new. Marnie carefully read the instructions and worked the thick liquid through her hair.

~ Let it sit a couple of minutes ~

‘Where… no, who are you?’ There was no answer. The voice… thought… whatever… only seemed to intrude when she was relaxed, but she was very agitated now. Marnie had to find out what was going on inside her and that meant only one person. She rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and shut off the shower. She dried herself gently, not wanting a repeat of the discomfort of earlier, and wrapped a towel around her hair. She passed a mirror and glanced over… all she saw was a woman… where was she?

~right here, sweetie ~

Marnie ran to her locker and rushed to get dry.

“‘A healthy state encourages many voices - and lots of listening.’ - Kathleen Sebelius”

Marnie was dressed and dragging a brush through her hair. ‘What the fuck is going on? Did I crack this morning? Settle down… after all you’ve been through, auditory hallucinations are the least of your worries.’ She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If her tai chi classes had taught her nothing else, it was the value of a deep cleansing breath. She felt the tension in her shoulders drain away and the knot in her core unwind. ‘Okay, priorities now. Have to contact Doc and get him to work on some sort of ID, then I have to hack the BoardStock registration server and change a few details on my entrance form…’ she sighed. ‘Then I have to go home and face... her.’

Marnie blinked as she looked in the mirror again. Sometime between brushing her hair and thinking, she had applied makeup. Not a lot and it worked with her look, but she couldn’t remember doing it and she didn’t know how to do it. Marnie was getting very frightened again but forced it down so she could deal with it later. She gathered her belongings and packed them away in the shoulder bag and left the change room, feeling better but still off kilter. Kayla spotted her and waved her over to the counter enthusiastically. Marnie joined the excited girl.

“Ohhh, you look so much better, Babygirl! Feel better too, I’ll bet!” Kayla chattered and waved to the computer screen. “So we filled in the basics for now, Miss Marnie Neil,” she said and giggled. “Phone number is blank till Bryan produces, and we used Sonya’s address till you can update us with your 411.”

Kayla backed Marnie up against a neutral coloured section of the wall and focused a digital camera on her. A moment or so later, Marnie had a brand new membership card to Premier Fitness and another new friend. The day was definitely full of surprises. Sonya bustled back in at that moment and, after ooohing and aaahing over the results of their shenanigans, yoinked Marnie back out the doors with a promise of getting together later with Kayla.

Sonya hustled Marnie into the mall elevator and took a good look at her. “Damn, you clean up nice, girl!” Marnie was unused to the level of attention she was getting and ducked her head, blushing crimson.

“I bet you say that to all of the transient, lost luggage, boarder girls you meet, Sonya,” she replied with a shy smile. Sonya grinned and pulled Marnie into a hug.

“Nah, just the ones who clean up nice,” Sonya said, laughing. “Now, Bryan has the electronics in hand and is getting them set up, and you have an appointment for your roots.” The doors opened and Marnie saw what could only be described as a glass and chrome temple to beauty and femininity. Sonya pushed a slacked jawed Marnie from the cab and towards the salon entrance. She barely caught the name of the establishment that was shining in a translucent white light above the chrome like a hologram: á‰liane. Her mom went here. Marnie immediately tensed up.

“Hey, hey... relax, Babygirl,” Sonya soothed. “Nothing and no one is going to hurt you, you’re under my protection.” Marnie relaxed slightly but was still on edge… her mom was a regular customer here…the thought raced around her mind like an ADD gerbil. She allowed Sonya to lead her into the Salon towards the reception area. The girl behind the desk could have been an elf; she had an ethereal quality to her, even seeming to glow slightly to Marnie until she saw it was clever interior lighting design. The receptionist looked up at Sonya and Marnie and actually did start to glow a bit on her own.

“Sonya! Yaaaay!” She levitated out of her seat and into Sonya’s waiting hug. “Mmm, you give weapons grade hugs, girl! Is this Marnie?” Sonya pulled back a little to introduce the girl.

“Marnie, this is Richelle, Salon Mistress Supreme,” she said, nodding to her hugee. “Richelle, this is my newest friend and poor little lost girl, Marnie.” Marnie had to grin, and all the remaining tension she was holding evaporated.

“Hi, Richelle. Sonya thinks I need some work done,” she said, smiling. “I’m just along for the ride.”

Richelle let Sonya go and looked Marnie up and down.

“Yeah, our Sonya’s a force of nature, isn’t she?” Richelle giggled merrily. “Roots, definitely, and a manicure. Everything else looks okay… unless you want a cut and style?” Marnie hesitated for a second.

~no, just roots and claws, Hun~

“No, roots and manicure is fine with me, Richelle,” she replied.

Sonya looked at Richelle. She grinned at the small woman.

“Gonna have the twins look after her?”

“Nothing but the best for your friends, Sonya. You know that.” Richelle laughed and continued, “now shoo, come back in an hour and a half.” She took Marnie’s hand and led her into the depths of the salon.

Richelle sat Marnie down in a chair and waved over two women who were almost identical save their hair colour. They were twins, that much was obvious, but Marnie could feel that they were very different people somehow.

“Marnie, this is Genifer,” she said, indicating the brunette. “And this is Gisele,” she continued, pointing to the redhead. “I leave you in their gentle hands.” Richelle giggled and whispered something to the two women and walked to the front of the salon. The brunette looked at Marnie’s hair and tisked.

“Okay, G, I’m up… see you in 40 k?” the redhead nodded and threw herself in the next chair and grinned.

“Okies, Marnie, lean back… roots and a trim… relax and enjoy the ride.” She let the back of the chair down and started to rinse out Marnie’s hair. There was a snicker from the next chair.

“Yeah, keep your arms and legs inside the car at all times.” Marnie snorted and started to just relax and enjoy having her hair and scalp massaged.

~oh, like this, do ya Hun?~

~who are you?!~ Marnie thought back furiously, trying not to mirror her tension on her body.

~I’m You, mostly.~

~want to explain that statement, oh wise oracle?~

~don’t think I can right now Hun, so I won’t~

~wait…what?~

~just relax, we’ll talk again soon. The wonder twins are changing up… see ya~

“Okay, G, my turn,” the redhead was saying. “Hit the bench.” Marnie blinked and saw Gisele roll a small table and a stool over as Genifer sat down in the chair beside her.

“You don’t strike me as a Girly type, so... short and neat and white polish, okay, Marnie?” She grinned and started right in on Marnie’s left hand. Marnie looked over at Genifer lounging next to her.

“You two don’t strike me as typical beauticians,” she noted, explaining, “you aren’t all talky talky and stuff, like others I’ve been to. You are very professional… well mostly.” Marnie grinned, remembering the few exchanges between the women. Gen smiled back.

“Oh, we do that if it seems what the customer wants.” She shrugged. “But sometimes it’s better to just relax and flow. Personally, I think we do a better job without the distraction. It’s like G said, you don’t seem like a Clone Ranger, so you could live without the inane chatter.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “Or would you like to know all about the Kardashians?” She broke out an evil grin.

“Gah! NO… no thank you.” Marnie shied away in mock horror. “I’d like to keep my brain cells.”

“If you two are gonna talk, G,” Gisele piped up, “I’d prefer you not startle Marnie into sudden movements. I’ve never drawn blood in five years, and I’d prefer not to start today. Thank You.”

Genifer rolled her eyes, picked up her book and started to read. Marnie looked at the maroon, indigo cover and especially at the art. It was a modified version of DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man except the figure was half male and half female. She cleared her throat.

“Pardon me, Genifer, but what are you reading?” she asked. “The cover is quite eye catching.”

“This?” She closed her finger in the book to mark her place. “I found it on Amazon; it’s a Canadian Science Fiction Political Environmental Thriller...” she paused and thought before continuing, “with super heroes. Oh and Romance.”

“Sooo, just a couple of genres then?” Marnie replied with a crooked grin. Genifer smiled.

“That’s what I thought at first, but it’s more about being human. Male, female, carbon or silica, doesn’t matter, just being human. It’s a pretty good read.”

Marnie glanced at the title, The Enhanced: TRI, and made a note to find it. She could use a good read. She read a lot of fiction as she grew up because it helped her escape the loneliness of her life. Science fiction was her favourite but the classic fantasy novels ranked up there too. Historical fiction was good as long as it was plausible and a good crime thriller was always welcome. She loved Elmore Leonard and John D. MacDonald.

“All done Marnie.” Gisele stood up and turned the chair towards the mirror. “Basic maintenance done. I hope you’ll come back, I like you.”

Genifer stood up and stretched.

"That’s high praise coming from G, Marnie.” She smiled, “but she’s right, I like you too.”

Marnie blushed furiously as she dug in her pouch for a couple of twenties to tip the twins with. She wasn’t used to all this friendliness and kindness, let alone the attention she had been getting. She held out the cash and looked at her feet to hide her red face.

“Um… I want to thank you both for being so great to me… uh Genifer, Gisele… I will come back… I like you both too,” she half whispered. She was suddenly caught up in a hug from two directions. Gisele spoke quietly into her right ear.

“We did this at first cause you’re a friend of Sonya, but I want you as my friend too,” Genifer whispered into her left ear.

“What my sister said goes for me too, okay, friend?” Marnie felt her eyes stinging and nodded, not trusting her throat. The hug broke reluctantly and the twins walked her to the reception area where Richelle and Sonya were talking.

Genifer spoke up. “All done, Elf. Hey Sonya!”

Sonya grinned. “Hey G, Howdy G. Looks good!” She looked critically at Marnie. “Hallelujah! The Skunk stripe is gone.” She chuckled.

Marnie grinned and settled the bill with Richelle.

“Gee thanks,” she laughed, “though I guess I both looked and smelled like a skunk earlier. Thanks Richelle, Genifer, Gisele… for everything.”

Richelle smiled and handed Marnie a card.

“No worries, Marnie,” she chirped. “Just call and we'll fix you up, anytime.”

Sonya and Marnie walked back out to the hub bub of the mall.

“Okay, Sonya, what’s next?” Marnie asked. “More surprises?”

“Nope… we see Bryan for your tech and then a much needed café stop.” Sonya smiled at the smaller girl and added, “it’s been a tough day and you’ve been a trouper, Marnie.”

"‘A hug is worth a thousand words. A friend is worth more.’ - Jasmine Fitzwilliam"

They exited on the ground floor and saw Bryan just inside the Sport Chek. He waved them inside and led them back to the customer service counter. With an over the top flourish worthy of a stage magician, he produced a Smartphone and a netbook.

“Feast your eyes, Mine Damen,” he chortled. “The latest in lightweight tech for today’s modern woman on the go.”
On the counter was one of the thinnest non apple notebooks Marnie had ever seen, an Acer Aspire S… brushed aluminium, 13mm thin, gorgeous. Bryan opened it and it was on and loaded from a cold start…

“Marnie, meet the S3-951-6697,” Bryan said with a grin. “Win7 64-bit, Core i7 1.70 GHz, 8GB SDRAM, 240GB solid state drive, 13.3" LCD, 802.11b/g/n WLAN, Bluetooth and a built in Wi-Fi stick…”

Sonya was grinning, while Marnie was gawping.

“Okay, Vanna,” Sonya laughed. “How ‘bout the phone?”

Bryan grinned even larger.

“If Miss Marnie will draw her attention to the second item up for bid?” He did a hand wave and said theatrically, “voila, The Galaxy Nexus… both set up with accounts, transferable to your old accounts from the cloud… both unlocked and ready to rumble.”

Marnie felt the tears come to her eyes and had the strangest urge to run and hide from these wonderful people. Had she been alone too long?

~don’t you dare run, girl~

~I don’t deserve this!~

~why not?~

~I’ve done nothing but lie to them…~

~soon, dear one. Once you understand what has happened, you can tell the truth~

~but…~

~hush, Hun~

Marnie walked round the counter and just gave Bryan a long hug… burying her face in his shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Bryan,” she whispered.

“No problem, Marnie. I’m here if you need help. Also, I can’t wait to see you kick ass at BoardStock… I’ll be there rooting you on.” He smiled brightly and added, “and you give good hugs, almost as good as Sonya.” He gave her a gentle squeeze, disengaged and packed the laptop into the backpack and handed her the phone. Marnie smiled and took it.

“Bye, Bryan. See you soonest.” Marnie waved as she and Sonya headed for the Second Cup café.

Sonya went to the counter to order and Marnie set up the laptop. And punched a number into the phone… it connected to the cloud server and she had all her phone preferences again. A minute or two later, the laptop was similarly configured.

‘Okay, first things first,’ she thought as she fired up a secure email program.

To: Doc

From: futureboy

Subject: Doc, I’m in big trouble

Doc, Mom pulled something seriously weird on me… can’t explain… need ID, product and Sciencey advice…probably med tests... to coin a phrase, you’re going to see some serious shit.

A.N.

She hit send and waited. Sonya brought her a London Fog Latte and a chicken salad wrap and a chai latte and ham and swiss for herself. After a half hour of quiet munching, punctuated by the occasional yummy noise, the email chimed at the same time Sonya’s phone rang. Sonya took her call as Marnie opened the message.

To: futureboy

From: Doc

Subject: 1.21 jiggawatts?!

Ok kiddo, half hour, the lab ok?

M.S.

She replied in the affirmative, shut the laptop and opened her mouth to make excuses to Sonya. Sonya was on her feet first and speaking.
“Babygirl, I put my deets in your phone and I have yours in mine… I gotta run for a bit… family stuff… call you in a couple, okay?”

“Uh, sure, Sonya… I have to motor too… some stuff of mine may have turned up… call you in two? Okay?”

The two girls collided into a hug and then Sonya bolted out the door. Marnie gathered her new spoils, grabbed her board from the locker at the entrance to the Mall, lit a cigarette and flagged a cab. She actually had finished the smoke when a cab finally came to a halt. She told the driver to take her to West Seventh and Spruce and settled in.

The cab let her out at the corner and she walked to Choklit Park and made her way to the basement entrance of the home owned by the nearest thing to a father figure she had had growing up. The man she called Doc. Letting herself in with a key from under a hemp mat, she walked down the stairs quietly so as not to shock him too quickly.

“I can hear you, Kiddo,” rose the gentle voice from his lab. “Nothing to fear here, c’mon down. I want you to meet my able assistant…”

Marnie pitched her voice as low and soft as she could and said, “okay…” just before rounding the corner to see her friend in his beanbag chair and…

“Sonya!”

“Marnie!”

“Doc?”

“Dad!”

Marnie moaned as she blinked owlishly at her old friend and her new one,“Dad? Doc?! Great Scott!”

Milo Samuels sank deeper into his chair.

“This is heavy.”

Slacker- Part Four by Moongoddess   Doc has some theories, Sonya needs answers, Esther starts drinking and Marnie discovers new talents!

 
 
Milo Samuels sank deeper into his chair,“This is heavy.”

“Dad, how do you know Marnie?” Sonya gawped, slack jawed, “I just met her today! And why the hell did she call you Doc?”

Marnie sank slowly to the floor and sat wide eyed and ready to bolt, rocking back and forth.

Milo stood, walked over to her and tilted her chin up to look her directly in the eyes. After searching her face for a moment he grunted and nodded.

“Who did this to you Arthur?” he asked the girl gently, “I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t mess with any company materials.”

“I think it was my mom, Doc,” tears started down Marnie’s cheeks, “I woke up this morning like this and mom was all loco…”

“Dad! What is this shit?” Sonya interrupted, “what the fuck are you two talking about and why did you call her Arthur?”

Milo whirled on his daughter,“Sonya please! This young woman seems to be the victim of a biogenic assault,” he chided, “and it appears she is the child of my late partner. I need you to listen, I’m sure some of your questions will be answered, but Marnie, as you call her is our first priority!”

Sonya took a deep breath, centered herself and sat back down in the recliner she had been in.

“How can I help Dad?” she asked quietly.

“Just write down the salient points of what you hear, we can go over them later to see if I missed anything,” he turned back to Marnie, “thank you dear. Now uh, Marnie? Or would you prefer Arthur?”

“Under the circumstances Doc,” Marnie sniffled back her tears and smiled weakly,

“Marnie is a little more appropriate. Uh, where was I?”

“‘Mom was all loco…’” Sonya piped up.

“Oh… thanks…. So um, Mom was acting nuts and going on about me having a second chance or giving me a second chance. I had blazed as soon as I got up so I wouldn’t have to deal with her bullshit,” Marnie paused and blushed, “sorry ‘bout the language.”

Milo looked up from the joint he was rolling and grinned. “Marnie dear, I have heard worse from both of you, so don’t be getting all shy on me now,” he lit the joint and passed it to Sonya, “besides, you should have heard some of the language that your mother and Sonya’s mother have used on me.”

Sonya took a deep haul on the joint and passed it to Marnie. “Trust me,” She croaked out, “he does not exaggerate.”

That earned a small smile from Marnie as she took the joint and inhaled deeply. She felt the harsh edge of her panic subsiding and let out a deep sigh.

“She made sure I took notice of her ‘improvements’, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting. I then proceeded to make good my escape from the house,” she paused, “considering I was seriously baked, or should have been, I did very well in my planning.” She frowned. Milo nodded his head.

“Cognitive boost,” he murmured, “interesting.”

“Come to think of it, I should have been seriously shitting myself about waking up like this,” Marnie blinked owlishly, “but aside from a couple of minor panic attacks, I’ve just been mostly myself… more emotional though.”

“Interesting,” Milo nodded again, “and how did you deal with these incidents?”

“It’s sorta crazy, but,” Marnie coughed, “I would hear a thought that wasn’t mine, but was?”

“Like a voice?” Milo raised his eyebrows.

“Sorta yes, sometimes?” Marnie struggled to put the concept into words, “I talked with it a couple of times, in my head? And it’s sort of a user’s manual…” she trailed off…

“And what else?” Milo probed gently.

“An autopilot,” she whispered, wide eyed, “there have been… gaps in my…now?”

Milo gathered the shaken girl into a hug. Marnie was trembling as she clung to her oldest friend.

‘My god, what did Esther put into this poor child?’ he thought furiously while stroking the young girls hair. After a while, he felt her trembling start to quiet. “Ok sweetie, its ok, we’ll figure this out…”

Marnie sniffled and pulled away from the Doc’s chest. Blinking back tears, she drew in a shaky breath. “I hope so doc,” she barely whispered. Wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands, she blinked, straightened up and looked him in the eyes, “Where do we start?”

Milo smiled; there was the tenacity he knew Artie had, even with the emotional shocks she had experienced today.

“We start with you telling me everything you remember happening and feeling today,” he directed her, “Every detail! Then we can concentrate on the physical aspects.”

“You can see the physical aspects Doc,” Marnie giggled, “I know what you mean though. Everything has been, for the lack of a better word, Weird.” She paused to consider how to explain, “I woke up in an alien body that felt completely normal,” she frowned, “it didn’t feel off balance or awkward at all. Honestly, I didn’t notice till my attention was drawn to it by my… by Esther.”

Sonya listened, wide eyed. If her father hadn’t confirmed the fact, she would never have believed Marnie had been anything but female, she was just so… natural.

“The next thing I knew,” Marnie continued, “my head was clearing, which was odd, considering the strain I had smoked earlier,” she looked at Milo with a crooked smile, “it was your ‘White Widow’, anyway, I cobbled together a decent enough disguise, grabbed some cash, an old board and made good my escape…” she cleared her throat.

Sonya tossed a bottle of water her way, which Marnie caught without even looking. Sonya’s jaw dropped and Milo’s brows rose to his hairline.

“That,” said Marnie, “is only a small example of what I’ve been able to do today. My balance seems hypercharged, I was boarding like it was completely automatic and like I said, I was completely at ease with Sonya and her friends when I should have been a gibbering wreck.”

“You mentioned voices?” Milo prodded as he opened his water, “or thoughts not your own?”

“On a couple of occasions today, like an inner voice.” Marnie nodded, “it gives advice on how to deal with difficult situations, and we sorta talked while I was at the salon. It’s… her voice is different from my inner voice… but the autopilot thing scares me Doc… I don’t want to lose me.” She was on the verge again.

~breathe dear, deep breaths, center yourself~

Marnie immediately felt calmer and stopped trembling. “That was her,” she looked at them, “she helped me fight off a panic attack.”

“It was strange to see Marnie,” Sonya spoke up quietly, “you were starting to shake and get pale, then your eyes sorta glazed over and you settled right down.”

Marnie cleared her throat. “Her voice was just there in my mind and helped me find my center,” she whispered, “Doc, you gotta help me.”

“I will do everything humanly possible… Marnie,” he replied and she could see the fire in his eyes, “in return I ask for only one thing, your complete trust, no matter how scary or embarrassing these tests may seem.”

Marnie nodded, wide eyed as Milo helped her to her feet. He rubbed his hands together in a motion Marnie had seen before when he was putting his entire mind to a task. “Now, Sonya will get to work on two things,” he pointed to the computer setup through the doorway, “first, transcribing the last half hour of conversation into file notes and two, getting started on the ID package you requested in your initial email Marnie.”

“But… she… how?” Marnie stammered, “I didn’t see her take any notes?”

“Dear, my daughter, aside from being a genius with computers and mathematics,” Milo smiled proudly, “has an eidetic memory. She remembers all that she sees and hears until she chooses to forget.”

Sonya grinned and blushed pink. “Get away with your silver tongue,” she stuck hers out at her father, “More than just a pretty face, eh Marnie? Sorta like you.” She gathered Marnie into a hug, “now the two of you scoot, I have work to do.”
 
 

 
 
Milo led Marnie back upstairs towards his workspace. She had never seen this part of his house before, having preferred to relax in the basement with her friend. This area was off the hook with so much high tech equipment that she couldn’t begin to identify half of it, and she had seen the labs at NeilTech. It actually looked like a scene out of a science fiction movie. Milo saw her trying to look at everything at once and snickered.

“What? You thought I retired from my field after your… Esther fired me?” he smiled, “I suppose I could have, I was very rich. No, I continued the work that David and I started and now, even NeilTech calls me to consult. Poetic Justice I suppose.”

He guided her through to a small examination room just off the main lab. He sighed, “I miss your father too, child. We were so close to the cure for him. I wish Esther could have come to grips, I had hoped she had, but this… Misuse of the technology, on you, on anyone…” his eyes flashed angrily, “we’ll deal with her later. Come in and undress, put on the gown and I’ll be in shortly.”

He closed the door between them and went to his desk. Milo picked up the phone and quickly dialled a number from memory.

“NeilTech R&D, Ken Takahashi,” greeted the voice on the other end, “how can I help you?”

“Hey Ken, Milo. I need you to do something for me on the QT,” he replied, “I need you to physically check the special projects locker and tell me if there’s anything missing.”

“Do you have reason to believe that anything might be gone Milo?” Ken’s voice took on a serious edge.

“I do Ken and if I’m right I’ll need you to send me all the notes and specs on it,” he said flatly, “there could be a possible misapplication protocol. I’ll hold”

“Shit! Ok, hold on,” Ken spat as the line went silent.

Milo busied himself by writing out a preliminary file entry for Marnie. Name, alias, birth date, calendar age, approximate biological age and relevant background information for the patient. This one had to be by the books, not a t uncrossed nor an i undotted.

Ken came back on the line as he was finishing his notes.“We have a problem old friend,” Ken sounded frightened, “Government and MOD crashing down on our balls with both feet kind of problem!”

“That’s what I was afraid of Ken,” he ran his hand over his eyes, “ok don’t raise any alarms just yet. What’s missing and how much?”

“Project foxtrot echo mike echo 213 delta,” Ken replied shakily, “one full dose unit.”

“OK, here’s what we need to do Ken, and don’t argue security with me, you know I have higher clearance then you do,” Milo quickly made a list in his mind, “first, go to the bioreactor and program it for a replacement dose for inventory, second send me the files and specs on the project, all of them, through our secure channel and third keep this quiet for at least 48 hours while I track down the probable suspect… this is huge Ken and could seriously damage NeilTech.”

“But… I, OK Milo, I trust you to know what you’re doing,” Ken sighed, “But to be clear here, 48 hours and then I have to get internal security involved.”

“I understand Ken,” Milo responded, “and thanks. I’ll keep you posted.” He hung up the receiver and walked back to the exam room.

Knocking gently, he opened the door to find Marnie sitting nervously on the table. Milo smiled to relax her.
“Hey Kiddo, made a little progress on the stuff your mom used,” he noticed Marnie flinch, “sorry, Esther used. Now we need some vitals and some blood samples, so BP, heart rate and general checkup first, then a few not so pleasant tests and we’ll do some mad science, ok?” Marnie bit her lip and nodded as Milo closed the door.

Esther was starting to seriously freak out by this time. She couldn’t call the police and she didn’t have any idea of what Artie would do with his free time outside the house so there was no way that she could go out searching in the car.

“I honestly don’t know my own son!” she thought bitterly, “I had no idea that he was as smart as he is. Valedictorian! What else didn’t I notice?” she went to the living room, poured her fifth glass of scotch and downed it in one gulp. Esther caught sight of herself in the mirror and hurled her empty tumbler at the reflection, shattering both mirror and glass, “SHIT SHIT SHIT! YOU MONSTER!” she threw herself onto the sofa and screamed herself into an uneasy sleep.

Sonya set to her tasks with all diligence, but her mind was whirling like a dervish. Even with the advancements in bioengineering that her father and others like him had achieved, this shouldn’t be possible! To be able to completely remake a human being to spec was just… scary. She looked up photos of Artie Neil on the internet and what she saw looked nothing like Marnie at all, and though Artie had been ok looking in a gangly, boarder sort of way, Marnie was totally sexy and cute. Artie was also about 3 inches taller than Marnie and about 40 pounds heavier. She shook her head to try to get her thoughts flowing straight.

She opened up her templates and started creating an entirely new person from thin air. Once upon a time, changing identities had been as easy as going to a cemetery, finding someone who had been born around the same time as you, and mail a request for a birth certificate. Once you had that, getting bank accounts, drivers’ licenses and the like was easy.

‘Not so much these days,’ she thought with a wry smile, ‘once the various levels of government started to network their computers, a death record would flash up with the request for a birth certificate immediately. No, now you had to be able to hack the records and in a best case scenario, create physical ID to go with it.’

This was a best case scenario.

She got to start from scratch, building a completely new persona from a literal tabula rasa. She put her ear buds in, cranked up the tunes and cracked her way into the Office of the Registrar General for British Columbia. Opening a new file was easy enough; the tricky part was finding the number range that was issued for the series from Marnie’s new birth date. Speaking of which… she linked to her father’s computer to see what age he had assigned to Marnie… 19… cool. Same age as before, so she could assign the same date of birth and Marnie wouldn’t get into trouble by forgetting her own birthday. She did a scan of registrations for that period and found a blank file, perfect; she slotted a very sincere fake registration into place and pulled open another window.

This was her template for the actual certificates, long and short form. Rummaging through a box of very official looking government forms; she selected the first two and loaded them into a printer never intended for public usage. In less than ten minutes, Marnie had her certificates and Sonya settled in to work on drivers’ license and health insurance cards.

Marnie started to get dressed sullenly as soon as Milo had left the exam room with his samples and notes. She had just experienced the most uncomfortable medical exam of her life and the sooner she was out of that room, the better. Once she was fully clothed again, she let out a huge sigh and lowered herself to the floor, assuming the lotus seat that she had learned in her martial arts classes.

‘This certainly is a lot easier to do now though’ she thought wryly to herself.

Closing her eyes, she began her low breathing pranayama to get herself into a state of mind where she could actually be of some assistance to her friend, and now Doctor, it seemed.
She was conscious of herself for a good five minutes before the self went away and she entered a state of mindfulness.

She brought herself back twenty minutes later and rolled to her feet without even thinking about it. Opening the door, she heard the muted whir of precision equipment and the low muttering of Milo coming from behind a very large computer monitor.

“God damn it, of all the things for that senseless woman to pick, it had to be this one…” he cursed under his breath.

“What one Doc?” she inquired as she approached his workstation, “what shit did Esther pump into me?”

“A very dangerous, untested product being developed for the Ministry of Defence,” he slumped back into his chair, “with the ungainly nomenclature FEME213D.”

“In English this time please Doc,” she glanced at the monitor and froze for a moment, “Whoa, Trippy… Field Enhancement, Military Experiment 213 Defence. Damnit! What the Frack was that?!”

Let’s see, you absorbed and compiled all the data on the monitor,” he pursed his lips and blew out air, “so I would say that’s part of the enhancement.”

Marnie reached for the nearest chair and plonked herself into it. “So, some dumbass brass hat at the MOD saw the Captain America movie and decided they wanted a super-soldier?” she spat angrily, all of her previous calm vanishing, “and Esther jumped at the chance for a government contract no matter how ethically questionable. Then sticks me full of who knows what? Is that it?”

“Well, considering this stuff was only in the tissue culture testing stage, we should look at the positive of the situation,” Milo said with a sad smile, “It should have killed you. Dissolved, I would think…”

Marnie blinked, her anger rapidly evaporating.

“Well, when you put it that way…” she grinned, “so what was this stuff designed to do; I didn’t see a specs list on your screen?”

“Short version?” he replied, “enhance the physical to peak fitness, improved stamina, modified immune system, balance, hearing, vision with some add ons, neural enhancement, active nanotech, pain resistance and some other esoterica that just means you are, well, somewhat more than human.” He took off his glasses and polished them with his lab coat.

“We are the Borg…” she quipped, “hang on… ‘Neural Enhancement, Active Nanotech’? How ‘active’ are we talking here?”
 
 

 
 
“That, is an excellent question,” Milo sat up, “Take the bandage off your arm where I drew blood, would you?”

Marnie peeled off the band aid and cotton ball and saw… nothing. No sign whatsoever that she had been pierced by a needle at all.
“Oookay… Captain America, the Borg and now Wolverine?” she slumped a little in her chair, “what other trademarks am I currently violating? What else did this active nanotech do to me?”

Milo picked up a piece of paper from the printers tray and set it in front of them both. It was a tech drawing of a nanomachine.
“Meet feme213d. From what I could figure out at first glance,” he tapped the drawing with his pencil, “they took the latest HealGen ‘bot and ramped it up at least 100%. This bugger has a gig of active solid state ram and the processing power of a Samsung Galaxy IIIS. It also has a distributed network using a very low 4G signal. You are probably a walking Hotspot.”

“Distributed network, uh huh,” she nodded, “and how many of these wee smartphones are there in me Doc?”

“Probably on the close order of a trillion,” he replied flatly, “which would explain where they got the fuel for your abrupt transformation, the excess mass of your old body. But what worries me more is their programming.”

“That’s your big worry Doc?” she huffed, “My biggest worry is how do I get back to being me!”

“I understand that Arthur,” Milo used her real name to try to convey the gravity of his next words, “but I feel that any attempt to do that without understanding the process would undoubtedly kill you.”

“Kill me?” she said flatly, “so I’m stuck… but why…” she waved her hands towards her body, “why this?”

“Why a girl is what you mean,” Milo shook his head wearily, “there were two nearly identical batches of feme213d. The difference is one was designed for men, the other for women. Your …Esther chose the female one, for whatever passes for reason in her head.” He sighed,” I gather that’s the reason you were out for, what? Three days? The tech had to rewrite your DNA, probably just copy and pasting your existing X chromosome. So until we can crack the process, we can’t just shoot you with the male variant.”

Marnie frowned and then her eyes lit up.

“We have no Y chromosome to take a template from,” she exclaimed, “and we’d have to reprogram the feme213d m variant with a sample of my DNA from home, that is, if there’s any left after Esther’s Extreme Makeover: Bedroom Edition. She had my room completely redone and probably swept clean… except…”

“Except?” Milo sat forward.

“Except for all of my bolt holes I had built in my room and my closet there might be some of me in one of them,” she sighed, “which means I have to go back there. And I will, the rest of my cash and bank cards are there.” She paused in thought for a moment, “you said something about programming…”

“Yes! Programming,” he sat up straight, “the tech wouldn’t need such high levels of computing power or the network if it wasn’t required for high level data processing and retrieval, and I gather this is why you are a page at a glance reader. But more to the point, you mentioned help files and the voice in your head?”

Marnie nodded.

“That’s probably some sort of AI,” Milo smacked his hands together, “under normal circumstances…”

“Like there would be any normal circumstances Doc,” she snorted.

“If this was used under military applications, the AI would probably be a combat computer, with military programming and mission specific applications,” he almost looked excited, “but in this case, there was no real data and the network has been learning by observation!”

“Ok Doc, settle down,” Marnie coaxed, “you’re starting to get creepy. So I have a copy of Cosmopolitan in my head?”

~ Not Cosmo, I prefer Vogue ~ there was the impression of amusement in the voice.

Milo was starting to speak, but Marnie held up her hand to silence him.

~ All right you… you distributed network,~ Marnie thought back savagely, ~no more hiding and popping up whenever you feel like it!~

~ All you had to do was ask, Marnie ~

~ OK, I’m asking, what… who are you? ~

~ Milo had it correct Marnie. We… I was designed to be a combat computer and I have been trying to fulfil my role by helping you to adjust to your present circumstances. I have tried to be as unobtrusive as I can. ~

~ You have been on the verge of freaking me out all day… whoever you are. Do you have a designation? ~

~ Femi will do Marnie. Oh dear, Milo is looking decidedly antsy. Let me try something. ~

~Wait…What? ~

Marnie blinked and looked at Milo.

“Sorry Doc, Femi got all chatty all of a sudden,” she tried to explain when her cell rang. She answered it and went white as she activated the speaker.

“Hello Doctor Samuels, I am the AI you postulated,” Said the voice, “you can call me Femi…”

“Hello Doctor Samuels, I am the AI you postulated,” Said the voice, “you can call me Femi…”

 

---

I would like to thank my Beta Readers, for their input and ideas. I'd also like to thank all of you for giving me a place to share my work.
Last but not least, I'd like to thank my lovely Muse, Dani for everything she is.

All characters Copyright 2011 - 2015 BolaDesign Studios. Image Copyright Lego.

Slacker Part Five by Moongoddess   In which we meet Femi, Doc confronts Esther, Marnie and Sonya go to the Boardstock Trials and we meet Ken and Barbie.

Milo raised his eyebrows to his hairline as Marnie put the phone on the desk and sat down heavily.

“Femi, ok…” he said, “well, I think if I didn’t know you were an AI, I think you would have passed the Turing test.”

“Why thank you Doctor,” the contralto voice replied with a laugh, “that was almost a compliment.”

“Soooo,” he blew the word between his lips as if he was blowing out a birthday candle, “Unprogrammed combat computer in learning mode, right Femi? And you have been monitoring all open ports as a matter of course to acquire vital battlefield data and intelligence.”

“That would be as accurate a description of what I’ve been doing since activation as can be put into words Doctor Samuels.” Femi responded almost cheerfully.

‘Of course she would be cheerful,’ Marnie thought sourly, ‘she’s doing what she was designed for.’

“That’s correct Marnie,” Femi answered, “Circumstances aside; this is what I was built for.”

“Argh! Can’t I have one private thought?” she railed.

“If you wish Marnie,” the AI countered, “there is a privacy mode built in to the unit. You just say ‘Activate Privacy’ or ‘Deactivate Privacy’. It was deemed necessary for the field unit’s mental stability.”

“Field Unit! What the…,” she bit back on the string of profanities that were threatening to spew out of her mouth, “Listen Femi, refer to me as a piece of hardware again and I’ll stand by a giant electromagnet, got it?”

“Got it Marnie,” Femi answered slowly, “I had not really taken into account that you were an unwilling participant in this process, my sincerest apologies.”

Marnie settled deeper into her chair with a grunt “Just so we’re clear on who is the ‘Host’,” she rolled her eyes, “and who the guest is.”

Milo cleared his throat, “Ok Femi, first thing you need to know is that I have full security clearance on this project, up to and including ultra. Marnie has complete access for obvious reasons.”

“Understood Doctor,” Femi responded, “What do you need to know?”

“We can start with what can be safely deactivated and what must be left running,” he stated, “the misapplication of any number of functions could be dangerous or even tragic.”

“Scanning operational files,” the AI replied, “all physical enhancements are read only… combat reflexes can be dampened, defensive reflexes can be set to 70% of current norm. With no mission files, objectives are open to default state, which is off duty. Currently, that is all that can be done.”

“Will that do for now Marnie?” Milo asked.

“Yes Doc,” she smiled, “Can we do that Femi?”

“Done Marnie.”

Marnie felt herself relaxing for the first time all day, like the edge had been taken off, and realized that she had been like a coiled spring or a snake, waiting to strike. She sighed from somewhere deep inside.

“Whoa Kid,” the Doc remarked, “That sounded like a good one, base of the toes good.”

“It was from the pit of my being Doc,” Marnie smiled, “It’s a good thing I didn’t go home with everything active, who knows what might have happened if I got angry?”

“Don’t make me angry,” Milo quoted, “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

“Great,” Marnie rolled her eyes, “Another copyright ‘smashed’? I’m the freaking Avengers.” She sighed deeply again, “do you two need me here? I need to clear my head.”

Milo shook his head with a smile.

“Ok,” she said, “transfer this call to the Doc’s phone, Femi.”

Milo picked up the receiver as the phone rang and then turned his attention back to the conversation with the A.I. Marnie stood, grabbed her phone and crossed the room to the door quietly, although nothing could have distracted her friend from his dialogue short of a small explosion. Heading back down the stairs, she could hear the bustle of activity as Sonya worked her magic with the computers. Like father, like daughter... a pair of happy anarchists. A step creaked beneath her foot and Sonya looked up from her work and smiled, “Hey! How’s Supergirl?”

“You’re closer than you think Sonya,” Marnie half smiled, “Whatever Esther got her hands on changed me more than just this.” She waved her hands vaguely across herself as she made her way across the basement. “How’s it going down here?”

“Well, as far as the government knows, you’re a legal human resident of the Metro Vancouver area. I didn’t want to muck about with the banks, they have pretty tough security,” Sonya had a serious look on her face, “I could do it with more lead time, but with the government documents you have now, opening new accounts anywhere will be a snap. Now, come over here for your unflattering photos.” Sonya positioned Marnie in front of a neutral background and went behind a monstrous black beast of a camera, “Look at the light… and done.”

“Where did you two get...?” Marnie began, then shook her head, “No, I don’t want to know.”

Sonya grinned. “Amazing what you can buy at government auctions, isn’t it?” as she walked over to her printer. “Oooh perfect!” she said as she pulled the photo paper from the tray, “we’ll backdate the licence and health card so you can get the new cards later. I don’t have the gear to print those new digital ones...yet.”

“Anyway Trinity,” Marnie grinned back, “Can you get into the Boardstock registration database? I need to alter my entry a tad.”

 

Marnie stood in the sales area of the One Six skate shop, silently cursing Esther once again. She had needed to take a cab all the way from the Doc’s place in Vancouver to just outside Victoria, but it was worth the trip if she could replace all of the gear that Esther had removed from her room. Right now she was looking at decks and trying to figure out which ones would be best for her smaller frame. The Mutant from Skull Skates looked good, as did the Bowlrider but she needed more information about her new physiology before she could buy. Reluctantly she whispered,

“Privacy off”

“Hello Marnie,” Femi answered, “How can I help you?” Marnie held her cell to her ear,

“I need to know more about this body, centre of gravity, reflexes and similar information,” she started hesitantly, “I used to be a top level boarder and need to figure out if I still have my skills.”

“Well, that’s a different information request than I ever expected to have data on,” the AI replied, “let me search and compile. Meanwhile, for your height and mass, the two decks you seem to favour are more than adequate. Try the Tensor Mag 10 trucks, Bones Swiss ceramic bearings and Firstborn 53mm wheels...”

“And you knew nothing about boarding till just now?” Marnie asked with sneaking admiration.

“We’ll talk later, let me organize and compile the data I’m finding.” Femi replied with a smile in her voice.

Marnie shook her head slightly and took the two decks to the service desk to place her order. The tech told her it would be about an hour for assembly and raw tuning. She paid for the boards and proceeded to select gear and tools she would need to compete properly. Then she saw it.

It was a long sleeved tee shirt, black body with a weasel skull on crossed bones, purple and black striped sleeves. It was beautiful, mesmerizing and it took her a moment to tear her eyes away from it.

“What the Frack?” she thought furiously, “why am I paying so much attention to a shirt?”

Normally she didn’t pay much attention to clothing, just making sure that what she wore was clean, or at least didn’t stink. But this afternoon with Sonya, she had noticed the colours of the clothing, the fit and whether it had looked good on her and now this.

She felt drawn to this shirt.

She needed this shirt.

She grabbed the shirt and added it to her basket, but it gave her an idea. She found a black crash helmet and took her selections to the counter. The clerk started ringing things up and prepared to bag everything. Marnie held the shirt and helmet back.

“Do you do graphics here?” she asked the cashier.

An hour and a half later, Marnie stood at the top of a decent enough half pipe at Coquitlam’s Town Center Park. She held the mutant board she had just re-tuned and was decked out in black jeans, black chucks, the Weasel Tee and her helmet that had the weasel skull and crossbones and was trimmed in the same purple as the stripes on her sleeves. Safety gear in place, she stood on the board and pushed off.

It was like flying, without even thinking her body was making minute adjustments in stance and balance. She reached the other side of the pipe and tasted air… twist and contact, now more speed, gaining acceleration every second. Up, higher and twist, contact and more speed… Air… she was sailing through space. She reached down, gripped the board, and bent her knees deep into a Method Air. She could keep control of her board while looking down at the ground dwindling away, seemingly in slow motion. Twisting like an acrobat, she made contact with the ground reluctantly, bleeding off speed until she came to a rest on the opposite side of the pipe.

That, she thought, was amazing. Marnie hadn’t felt anything all day except a simmering rage. Now, that was background noise compared to the feeling she had now. It was the highest high, the mellowest stone and the most joyous calm she had felt in a long, long time. She got back on the board and built up speed on the level towards the rails. Up and a long grind with a board flip and stick the landing. This was effortless, but exhilarating. Everything she knew, every move came to her mind and was executed flawlessly. She got moving again and lost herself in the bliss.

Milo Samuels had other irons in the fire to deal with now that he was sure that Marnie was safe, physiologically speaking. He had to make sure that she wasn’t going to lose another parent and that meant going over to Marnie’s house and confronting Esther. His conversation with the AI had left many more questions than answers, but he was certain that Femi had Marnie’s best interests at heart. He listened carefully and heard the girls talking in the basement, so he let himself out the front door and drove away towards what he was sure to be an unpleasant reunion.

Milo had not been to his former business partner’s house since he passed over eight years ago. Esther had been quite plain about the status of his welcome there. His mind ranged back to the day of the funeral...

“You heard me Samuels! OUT!” Esther shrieked as young Arthur cowered in the doorway to the living room, “As far as I’m concerned, you are no longer welcome here or at NeilTech! Your delays and dithering cost me my husband!”

“The formula was not ready for human testing Esther, and you know it!” Milo replied in an unsteady voice, “It would have killed David as surely as the cancer did; those nanites disassembled healthy tissue as well as cancerous! The simple fact we’re at the point in this research is a testament to David’s genius!”

“You shut your lying mouth Samuels! You Are Out!” She bellowed as Arthur fled to his room, “Never contact me again!”

Milo left, never contacting her again, but it didn’t stop him from becoming friends with Artie when the boy needed a parent, any parent, as he grew up. Nor did it stop his work with NeilTech. But he should have kept a closer eye on Esther, and now he’d have to pay the piper.

He pulled his silver grey Infiniti coupe up the drive at the Neil’s home and parked. Exiting the car, he drew himself up to his full height of five foot eleven, straightened his shoulders and walked to the door. Ringing the bell, he waited... and waited. Five minutes passed as he waited for any sign of life in the house, any movement, any noise. He knew Esther was there as her red Mazda was in the drive. He finally went and peeked in the front window seeing her still form on the sofa and a welter of glass on the living room floor. He immediately did two things, he got out his cell phone and dialled 911, then he went to the rock he knew Artie used as a key ditch and opened the front door.

He ran to Esther’s side and checked her respiration and pulse. Her breathing was steady and while the pulse was a little slow, but the toppled crystal decanter told the story. She was passed out drunk. This gave Milo the opportunity he needed. He removed the afghan blanket from the sofa and covered Esther with it and then walked upstairs to Marnie’s bedroom. The door was locked, as Marnie said she had been locked into it by Esther, but the key was still in the door. Milo unlocked it and opened the door onto a pink nightmare.

“Holy Jebus!” he thought, entering the room proper, “Esther must have been seriously delusional if she thought Artie would accept this willingly”

Milo shook his head and gave a low whistle as he got to work searching for any trace of his old friend and partner’s son. He found the loose board easily enough and prised it open. There was Artie’s stash box, complete with roach jar. Milo removed both and found small treasures that Marnie might like to have as well. He then went to the closet and found Artie’s bank stash, which he cleared out as well. There was a large pink backpack in the closet as well, so Milo put all of Artie’s belongings into it. Making sure the room was as he found it; he closed and relocked the door. He would have to hurry with his last task as he could faintly hear sirens in the distance.

“Ok, I remember David’s safe was in the study,” he muttered, “and it’s a ‘safe’ bet Esther didn’t change the combination.” He chuckled dryly at his own pun.

As Milo expected, the safe opened easily and he found not only Artie’s wallet and identification, but classified project notes from the FEME213D experiments. Notes that could get Esther some serious time in the Graybar hotel and not the country club type either. He took what he needed, closed the safe and went to his car. The sirens were closer now so he ditched the backpack in the trunk of the Infiniti and went to the porch to await the Emergency Service Personnel. The police arrived first, followed by Fire and Paramedics. The Firemen and Parameds went inside while Milo answered questions from the Officers.

“On the request of Esther Neil’s child, I came to the house to speak with Mrs. Neil and gather some of her child’s belongings as Mrs. Neil and her child have become recently estranged.”

“And your relationship to Mrs. Neil and her child is?” the officer inquired.

“I am the child’s Godfather and Mrs. Neil’s husband’s former business partner, up until David died.” Milo replied, “The kid had a blowout with Mom there and showed up on my doorstep. Not that the kid needed to come to me. Legal adult and all.”

“We may need to talk to her ‘child’ later Mr. Samuels,” the woman looked up from her notepad, “But you did the right thing calling 911. The medic thinks Mrs. Neil has mild alcohol poisoning.”

They watched as the Paramedics wheeled Esther back to the waiting ambulance.

“We have your contact information Mr. Samuels,” the officer flipped her notebook closed; “We’ll leave you to secure the house and will be in touch.”

Milo watched the controlled chaos as the emergency personnel packed up their equipment and vacated the scene, the ambulance in the lead with its sirens blaring. Milo closed the door behind him, locked the door and pocketed the key. Marnie might need it. He got in his car and headed back to his home and hopefully better answers for Marnie regarding her future.

Marnie headed back to Metro Vancouver by cab to Doc Samuels’ house silently cursing the rush hour traffic, along with every other occupant of every other car on the road. She had agreed with the cabbie that the bridge was better than the ferry, though now it seemed, not by much. She should have been exhausted by her workout at the skate park, but instead felt full of energy and even a bit fidgety.

“Courtesy of the wee buggers in my body,” she thought sourly.

“Correct Marnie,” replied Femi in her head.

Marnie didn’t quite flinch. Instead, she took her phone from her pocket, mimed dialling and brought it to her ear.

“Hi Femi,” she kept her tone light and conversational, “thought I should check in though Privacy might have been an issue.”

“Oh, yes, you didn’t request privacy mode after we spoke at the skate shop,” said the AI, “I just left you to your thoughts as you seemed to need it.”

Marnie did a mental facepalm.

“I guess we both have to work on our communication skills dear,” she smiled a tight smile, “just keep me in the loop from now on, ok? Anyway, now that I have you on the line, do you have anything for me?”

“Well, as you found out at the skate park, you seem to still posses your skill set,” Femi chuckled, “slightly enhanced, mind you, but by all the calculations I’ve run, even without the stabilization programs running, you still are a top level athlete.”

“So,” Marnie said carefully, “even without using the program to tighten up my routine, I can still compete without any edge?”

“Absolutely Marnie,” the inner voice agreed as they pulled up at the Doc’s house.

Marnie made as if she were hanging up and settled the bill with the driver. She retrieved her bags from the trunk and waited till the cab drove out of sight to continue her conversation with Femi.

“You can’t believe what a relief it is to hear you say that Femi.” sighed Marnie, “It feels like the first good news I’ve heard all day!”

“How so Marnie?” the disembodied voice asked.

“I really need to compete at Boardstock, but I was worried about whether it would be me competing or this Super Soldier Serum.” She answered, “No offense Femi!”

“None taken Marnie, I have come to terms with who and what I am.” Femi sighed, “I was designed for war, but I am happy to take up a new role, if I am allowed to.”

Marnie was about to ask Femi what she meant when Milo drove up to the house. As he got out of the car, he popped the trunk to retrieve the backpack. He closed and locked the car, then waved Marnie towards the front door.

“Good news or bad news first Kiddo?” he asked as he opened the door for her.

“Are you kidding me?” she smiled, “Bad news. Good news is for desert.”

“Your m... Esther has been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. My guess is she has... regrets.” He began, “I went to your house to confront her about her reckless behaviour and found her passed out.”

“And?” Marnie asked flatly.

“And, her state gave me the opportunity to go into your room and pick up a few things.” Milo smiled gently, “As well as the chance to go into your father’s safe. I found your wallet and ID, as well as the dossier she had taken on the drug she used on you. Hopefully the notes will help reverse engineer this nightmare.”

“Reverse engineer?” she raised her eyebrows, “I thought you needed my old DNA for that?”

Milo opened the backpack and tossed Marnie a jar.

“My roach jar, so what?” she asked.

Milo smiled as he watched Marnie work through the question.

“SPIT! Saliva I mean, there’s DNA in spit and spit on the roaches!” She exclaimed happily.

“Bingo Kiddo! Top of the class!” he winked at her, “I’ll take the jar and the files, you can dig through the rest of this stuff with Sonya and see if you need any of it right now. I’m off to the lab, can you have Femi give me a call?”

“Will do Doc,” she smiled and blushed, “Thank you for being the parent I never really had. I...uh, I love you.”

“I love you too Marnie.” Milo smiled brightly and closed the lab door behind him.

Marnie was about to ask Femi what she had meant about being allowed to adapt to her new role when Sonya came up the stairs from her lair of computer wizardry. She spotted Marnie and smiled brightly.

“Hey Kara,” she smirked, “as far as Boardstock knows, you and Artie are the same person… I mean… uh…” Sonya trailed off, slightly confused.

“It’s ok Sonya, I’m still getting used to being a twofer myself.” Marnie smiled back gently, “Thanks for all your work, you’ve been amazing. If it hadn’t been for you saving me from Barbie this morning, I’d likely still be a mall zombie, shuffling around.”
Sonya blinked, then came over and hugged Marnie tightly.

“I’m glad I did too, I never met anyone like you before and I’m so glad we’re friends,” she gave a gentle extra squeeze, “though I am slightly ticked at dad for not introducing us before.”

Marnie extricated herself from the hug but held one of Sonya’s hands.

“I want to ask you a question,” she looked directly into Sonya’s eyes, “I don’t know if you want to go to all the Boardstock trials and events, But I’d really like you to… be there with… for me.”

Sonya lit up like a 100 watt bulb.

“Oh yes!” she burst out, then blushed, “I was half hoping you would ask and half dreading you wouldn’t.”

“Ok, registration and trial assignments begin in two hours,” Marnie blurted, “and I really need help with all those clothes we got earlier.”
The two headed down the stairs to the basement and Sonya’s lair.

The cab pulled up just inside Stanley Park and disgorged two overly excited passengers.

“…English Bay side of the park, according to the phone,” Sonya confirmed as she shouldered her backpack and stowed her smartphone.”

“Not too big a hike then,” Marnie sighed, “Pity, I have a huge butterfly migration in my abdomen.”

They set off in the direction of the bay and were at the registration tent in under ten minutes. The DudeBro at the desk looked up and grinned smarmily.

“Hello lovely Ladies,” he oozed, “the tourney is off limits to the public until tomorrow, and it’s all the trials today.”

Sonya made a face and Marnie stiffened slightly ‘It would be so easy to toss this himbo into the ocean and see if he skips’

“Well, that’s good news…” she glanced at his lanyard, her voice as chill as a wind out of Whistler, “Brad. I’m a participant and this is my pit crew. Here’s my registration paperwork, so make with the data entry and get us our passes, or is this job too difficult for a pretty thing like yourself?”

“I’m beginning to like the idea of seeing how many times he’d skip Hun.“ Femi’s cheerful giggle echoed in her head.

Marnie choked back a snerk and kept her bitch face in place as Brad scurried off to get all the registration forms signed, sealed and delivered. Twenty minutes later, Sonya and Marnie walked into the competition grounds with their all access passes. Cheerful advertising all over the photo IDs led them to believe they were now beholden to banks and soft drink manufacturers.

“Says here that we’re by the half pipe in tent twenty two,” Sonya looked up from the map and pointed, “over there.”

Marnie squinted slightly and here vision zoomed in till she could see the laminated card attached to the easy up shelter.

“Huh,” she snorted, “the sign says Team Neil, that’ll put a fox in the henhouse round here, with Neiltech as an event sponsor. Well, let’s check out the digs.”

They got to the tent to find it well lit and relatively empty, as a shelter, it would keep the sun and rain off them. They tied off the front opening flaps and set up their folding chairs. With their area secured, Marnie left Sonya with her laptop to watch their gear and took her credit cards to the dealers alley.

She approached the first tool and parts manufacturer and was ignored by the sales staff until she went to touch something expensive. That got a smarmy blond salesman’s attention.

“Please Miss, don’t touch unless you plan to buy.”

“Oh, I intend to buy, but whether its from you or the booth down the alley is up to me now, Isn’t it?” Marnie grinned ferally while flashing her Amex gold card. “Check the ID, buster.”

The salesman just about swallowed his teeth as he looked at Marnie’s competitors’ badge.

“I’m so terribly sorry Ms. Neil, how can I help you?”

Depends on whether you want to sponsor me or just sell, I’m buying either way and I need a full workshop kit. Worktable with vises, Full wrench set, and ratchet set with sockets and several spare decks, trucks and wheels.”

The salesman looked like he wanted to hug Marnie, but refrained. He had expected little in the way of actual sales this weekend.

“Ms. Neil, when would you need all of this?”

“As soon as possible, delivered to the team Neil shelter by the half pipe. You give me a discount if you wish to put your store info on our tent. I’ll be back here after I arrange for water and sundries for the team.” Marnie responded as she turned as if to leave. She hadn’t even managed a step before,

“Ms. Neil?”

She turned back to see an older gentleman standing with the salesman.

“Yes Mr. ...?”

He introduced himself,

“Robert Schaeffer, Special events manager for SkateOne.” He held out his hand and Marnie gently took it.

“If I understand correctly, you’re looking to be sponsored, but are willing to just buy our products?”

“Of course Mr. Schaeffer, Team Neil is currently unaffiliated with any groups, as we are a relatively new team. I personally would like sponsorship, but I’m only looking for a discount as you’ve never seen us perform. It wouldn’t be fair to you in case we do poorly.” Marnie explained.

Schaeffer pulled at his lower lip while looking intently at Marnie.

“20 percent?” He offered.

“30 percent...” she countered

“25 percent, no more,” he scowled and smiled at the same time,

“Done,” she thrust out her hand, which he took and shook on the deal.

“Jerry will arrange for the sale of the item you want as well as having them delivered and sent to your shelter,” Schaeffer said, “you and I will get a contract for SkateOne’s sponsorship of Team Neil. When are your trials?”

“Tomorrow at nine am ... can I call you Robert?”

“Certainly,” He allowed, “I just need to arrange for a graphics package to be delivered before then as well as sales literature and the usual sponsorship nonsense. I’ll have a contract ready in ten minutes if you’d care to wait. Until then, Jerry can assist you as you pick out your gear.” He gestured to the waiting salesman.

Marnie selected only top of the line equipment and tools, and was just having her purchase totaled when Robert came back from his trailer with two copies of the contract document. She quickly scanned it for loopholes and booby traps but it was straightforward and exactly what the verbal agreement had been.

Robert signed both copies and then handed the pen to Marnie. She had to concentrate to make sure she didn’t sign Arthur Neil. The salesman witnesses the documents and took Marnie’s credit card for the purchases.

Marnie got back to the tent just as Sonya was hanging up the phone.

“I thought you were getting water Marnie?” Sonya smiled as she saw her friend.

“Dag! Forgot the water, I only managed a sponsorship deal with SkateOne.” Marnie smiled back, “what were you up to?”

“Sponsorship?!” Sonya squealed, “Details girl! Details!”

Marnie quickly filled Sonya in just as Robert arrived with the boxes from SkateOne.

“Thank you Robert,” she smiled, “This is Sonya, my partner in crime.”

Robert shook Sonya’s hand and made to depart,

“The workbench will be here in about two hours and we should have the graphics before seven o’clock,” he said over his shoulder, “A pleasure to meet you Sonya.”

“Twenty five minutes,” Sonya said, shaking her head, “you were gone for twenty five minutes.”

“So, what did you accomplish in twenty five minutes?” Marnie inquired slyly,

“um... Called Mountain Equipment Co-op and got cots, coolers, and sleeping bags on rush delivery, called the Bay for towels for sweaty people. Pick up in about an hour, and called Foodland for ice, drinks, and snacks delivery hopefully after the coolers...” Sonya ticked her accomplishments off on her fingers, “no sponsorships, sorry.”

Marnie stuck out her tongue at Sonya and dialled a number on her cell.

“Hello, Administration? This is Team Neil, could you have a couple of cases of water sent to our tent?” she inquired, “Ten minutes? OK.”

In roughly ten minutes, a well built, dark haired young man wearing a volunteer lanyard rolled up with a dolly.

“Team Neil? Here’s your...” he paused as he spotted Sonya, “Oh god! I can’t even get away from you Mall dregs here!”

Marnie looked at the man sharply, taking in his name from his ID.

“Who are you talking to Kenneth Brenner?” She said sharply, “Not my team, I hope?”

She was interrupted by a shrill voice, and noticed a trim blond figure in the sunlight,

“You! You almost got me fired today!” the blond pointed and shrieked, “This is the one I told you about Ken!”

Marnie recognized the salesgirl from the mall that morning,

“Marnie,” said Sonya quietly, “Meet Barbie and Ken...”

To Be Continued

“Marnie,” said Sonya quietly, “Meet Barbie and Ken...”

---

I would like to thank my beta readers and editors, Monica Rose, Xtrim, Blurred_Edge and Pingu for their input and help. I'd also like to thank all of you for giving me a place to share my efforts. Last but not least, I want to thank my Muse, Dani.

All Characters Copyright 2011 - 2020 BolaDesign Studios. Image Copyright SuperArtistbOy.<

Slacker Part Six by Moongoddess In which Ken and Marnie have a confrontation, Femi needs calming down, Milo finds out more from Esther, Marnie and Sonya go to a party, and the Boardstock Trials begin.

Ken Brenner stood there looking at the two women in the tent with rage in his eyes. “You!” he snarled, “You’re the street trash that upset my babygirl. She told me all about how you were rude and cost her a big commission!”

“Better think twice before you do anything Ken,” Marnie countered, “anything Barbie told you is a twist of the truth and certainly not worth an assault charge.”

~Femi, what level of defense would we need to counter this jerk~

~anything around fifty percent would be fine, you’re currently at seventy percent and would Matrix him completely if you were at a higher level~ Marnie could feel the cold steel in Femi’s response.

~ok girl, calm down. Defense only. If he gets injured, it will be by his own folly~

“Wait a minute...” Marnie scowled, “Brenner... are you related to Douglas Brenner at NeilTech?”

Ken hesitated “Yeah... what’s it to you bitch? He responded sullenly.

“Check the name on the tent, and then check who the major sponsors of Boardstock are...” Marnie waited for the penny to drop.

“Ken, what are you waiting for... kick her ass!” whined Barbie from the sidelines. Ken silenced her with a glare.

“So what about my dad?” he growled, inching forward, tensing up slightly.

Marnie unconsciously assumed a fighter’s stance “My aunt is Esther Neil... your dad’s boss.”

Ken didn’t even think, he just swung. Marnie dodged and blocked the punch easily. Ken looked puzzled for a few seconds and threw another roundhouse at Marnie who blocked the punch and danced away.

“So what’s your aunt gonna do,” he panted, “Fire my dad?”

Marnie dodged another swing, “Probably not fire him, but when she finds out you attacked her niece, she’d give him a good talking to at the very least, and if you get charged with attempted assault, and I will press charges,“ she paused to dodge again, “what will the result be for you Kenny?”

Ken howled and charged Marnie like an enraged bull. Marnie quickly sidestepped and Ken hit the pole of the tent with his face. He rolled over panting and made moves to get back to his feet.

“Stay down Ken,” Marnie advised, “don’t hurt yourself anymore,”

Ken spat out blood and slowly stood up. “Who are the cops going to believe, you without a mark on you, or me with the bloody mouth and nose?” he sneered.

“I think they’ll believe the recorded evidence,” piped up Sonya from behind her cameraphone, “and the livestream.”

Ken wiped his nose and mouth on his arm and stalked by Sonya and Marnie. He turned back and pointed at them, “This isn’t over bitches... not by a long shot.” Ken took Barbie by the wrist and dragged her away behind him. “OW! Ken, you’re hurting me!” Barbie’s whining faded in the distance.

Sonya hugged Marnie and then held her at arm’s length. “You were amazing babe. You showed such restraint, and I know you probably could have taken his head off.” She dropped her arms and looked at Marnie. “They’ll be back looking for trouble you know?”

“I know it Sonya.” Marnie took out her cell and dialled the admin tent, “Hello? Yes, Marnie Neil here... one of your volunteers tried to assault me, Yes Kenneth Brenner, Yes we have evidence and witnesses, OK, Thank you.” She disconnected and shook her head. “Well, at least he won’t have easy access to the pits now. But my dear, I think we need cameras both inside and outside the tent from now on.” Marnie went outside, collected the water from the dolly and put it inside the tent.

~I’m still very angry about being attacked Marnie! ~

~Now it’s my turn to tell you to center yourself Femi... ~

~I will attempt it, but you cannot understand my frustration from my design standpoint. I am a combat computer, even though experimental. My first impulse, however fleeting, was to put your fist through Ken! ~

~Yipes!, and this is in off duty mode? ~

~That’s the problem Marnie, I never go off duty. My software is like the O/S on your computer or phone. Always on. ~ There was a sigh in Marnie’s head ~Anyways, I’m glad you’re in charge. ~

~I’m sorry you’re in this position Femi; this can’t be easy for you. Esther has a lot to answer for when we sit her down for a talk. ~

~She certainly does! ~ Femi agreed huffily.

Milo sat in the hospital room of Esther Neil waiting for her to regain consciousness. Her stomach had been pumped and she was under a light sedative. Her wrists and ankles were also restrained.

“For her own safety,” he mused, “and that of others, like Arthur.” He looked down at the sheaf of papers on his lap, trying desperately to find a way to reverse what Esther had done to the boy.

The tech involved was almost beyond him and he was absolutely certain that he would have to talk to the Nanotech designers and the programming team, but how could this be done without further disrupting the kid’s life. He heard a low moan, quickly stood up and moved to the bedside clutching the papers.

“Esther... Esther,” he hissed in a low whisper, “for the sake of everything you love, you must be quiet about the last four days!”

Esther slowly opened her eyes and seemed unable to focus at first. She snapped her head toward Milo, while her mouth worked to form words, “Why... why are you here Samuels?” she croaked, “Why can’t I move?”

“You are restrained because you were found at your home unconscious and suffering from alcohol poisoning and a suspected emotional break.” Milo stated flatly, “Listen carefully, I know what you did and I have been desperately trying to cover for you.”

“Artie?” she asked, her panic rising.

“Arthur is the only reason you are not in deep trouble Esther,” Milo informed her, “That kid is more on the ball than you gave him credit for. He... She showed up at my house looking for answers. She had spent the morning getting her identity straight with the help of my daughter.”

“Your Daughter? I didn’t know you had a wife, let alone a daughter?” she goggled.

“You never were interested in finding out anything about me, were you Esther. But that’s neither here nor there. By the way, you might want to remember that your Niece, Marnie, is in town.”

“Marnie? I don’t understand?” Esther felt confusion overwhelming her.

“Then keep quiet and listen... I know what you injected into your son, even if you didn’t, and you’re lucky you didn’t dissolve your child. The enhanced soldier protocol somehow managed a miracle and rebuilt Arthur completely from the DNA up.” Milo paused for breath, “Marnie is an enhanced human now designed for battle, but luckily the AI built into her was not fully programmed and is acting as a guide rather than a... a War Machine.”

Esther turned her head away and moaned.

“Esther, listen to me. There may be a slight chance of reversing this, but I need your help!” he urged.

She turned back as if seeing Milo for the first time. “What do you need from me?”

Milo looked her straight in the eyes, “The next forty eight hours will be crucial, that’s how long we have before the Feds come a knocking. The doctors are going to examine you and that includes a psychological exam, you have to convince them that you had a very stressful week and got very drunk, that’s all.” He paused to let her absorb what he was saying, “otherwise they can place you under a seventy two hour observation and I need you out of here to give me the access I need to the design of this serum.”

Esther nodded slowly.
Milo continued, “We also have to make it look like Arthur is travelling before university and establish the presence of your niece Marnie as visiting you. Marnie will contact you when she is ready to tear you a new one.”

Tears of regret welled up in Esther’s eyes but she set her jaw and nodded again.

“Now take a deep breath and we will get a nurse in to get your release happening.” Milo patted her hand and pressed the call button.

It took Marnie and Sonya about three hours to get their lair set up to their satisfaction including the six unobtrusive cameras inside and outside the tent. There was nothing left to do except to get some rest.

Marnie looked around and scowled, “Fuck this noise! We are not sleeping on cots tonight! Let’s go to your place Sonya, grab some shit and sleep in comfort!” she pulled out her phone and did a quick Google search. “There... The Shangri-La Hotel... hmmm the Executive Balcony King room looks nice for a night.”

Sonya stared, “Are you F-asterisk kidding me?! The Shangri-La is one of the most exclusive hotels in Metro Vancouver! They’ll never let a couple of boarders rent a room, let alone a suite!”

“Oh ye of little faith,” countered Marnie, “ if you did your work well on the ID’s, the drivers licence, combined with the NeilTech Credit card my mom got me will get us a room in nothing flat.”

“A credit card in your old name you mean,” said Sonya blandly

“Yeah, A. M. Neil... DUH!” Marnie grinned, “and I think it’s time Esther started paying some of the bills round here! Anyways it won’t set off any alarms, the last time I bailed on Esther; I stayed at the Metropolitan, ran up the room service, watched movies and got wasted.”

Sonya bounded across the tent and gathered Marnie into a huge hug, “I Love IT! What a great place to get ready for the Party tonight!”

“Party?! Oh my god! I completely spaced on the party!” Marnie started to panic, “I can’t go to the party like this! Everyone there only knows Artie, not me!” she started to feel trapped.

“Whoa! Chill girl! You were just talking about waltzing into the Shangri-La and now you’re about to lose it over the party?” Sonya grabbed Marnie by the shoulders, “What’s the problem?”

“You’ve seen how the boarders treat gir...Women! I only woke up like...like this today!” she stuttered, “I don’t wanna be the object of all those...Guy’s attention!”

“Sweetie, hush now, I’ll be there and I’ll protect you,” Sonya stroked Marnie’s hair.

“You will?” Marnie sniffled.

“I will.” Sonya hugged Marnie tightly, “Now, you were saying something about plans for the evening?”

A little after six pm, two rather fashionable young women walked up to the registration desk of the Shangri-La and waited. They were attended to by a lovely girl in uniform whose nametag identified her as Naomi.

“Good evening and welcome to the Shangri-La, how can I help you tonight?”

“Hi Naomi, I’m Marnie Neil and I have a reservation for an Executive Balcony King room,” She handed over her driver’s licence and credit card.

“Thank you Ms. Neil, one moment please...” The registration clerk took the documents and started typing, “Ah, here you are.”

“Here’s where the rubber meets the road,” Marnie thought while keeping a pleasant smile on her face.

“Alright Ms. Neil, the Executive for one night is four hundred and twenty five dollars Canadian plus taxes with the option of more nights if needed.” The girl handed Marnie a pile of papers, “if you’ll just sign these forms, we’ll get you your room keys.”

Marnie signed all the places on the papers as A. M. Neil, just like on the back of the card and licence and handed them back to Naomi.

Naomi examined them for a moment and then handed back Marnie’s ID’s and her room keys. She rang a small bell and called over a Bellhop. “Take these ladies and their luggage to EB Three please.”

The young man loaded up the trolley with the girls bags and led them to the elevator bank. He selected the twentieth floor and they were off. Once at the room, he escorted them in, showed them the amenities, accepted the offered tip and left them alone in the luxurious suite.

Marnie threw herself onto the couch and sighed, “I could very easily get used to this. You do excellent work my dear Sonya; she never even glanced twice at the licence.”

Sonya meanwhile was exploring the suite, with running commentary,” Jebus! Did you see the size of the bathroom? It’s bigger than my room at Dad’s house! And a stocked Wet Bar! Uh... Marnie, there’s only one bed...”

“What’s the problem Sonya; it’s a California King, plenty of room for us.” Marnie replied.

“Sure thing, Jeez! Did you see this Balcony?” she slid open the glass door to reveal the setting sun over the city.

“Huh, Good Idea,” Marnie observed as she walked out the doors, fished out a joint and lit up.

Taking a deep toke, she handed the joint to Sonya, “You know, I never stopped to look at what a beautiful part of the world we live in. My nose was always in my books or buried in games. That and boarding was my life.”

Sonya exhaled noisily and nodded slowly, “Loner huh? Sounds like me, shuttling back and forth between here and Toronto. All I had was books and computers. I’m not knocking dad, he’s great but always so deep in thought. Mom on the other hand was a Rosedale Princess and I was an afterthought. The occasional accessory.” She sighed and took back the joint, “I never had any real friends till I started working at the mall.”

Marnie looked at her friend, it seemed impossible that they had only met this morning, but everything seemed impossible today, “Let’s get a drink and you can help me get ready for the ball.”

It was already nine thirty before Marnie and Sonya were ready to go, but Sonya reassured Marnie that this thing didn’t really get started till after ten.

They had called Milo to let him know where they were staying and got his approval over the idea of using Artie’s credit to; as he put it, establish a paper trail for Artie’s whereabouts.

The Shangri-La’s doorman hailed them a taxi and they set off for 1222 Hamilton St, the Bar None Club. Built in a converted warehouse, the club was one of the few places to be able to host the large gathering of skaters, followers, and fans.

The cab pulled up in front of the club and a throng of people trying to get in. Marnie could hear the thumping beat of No Doubt’s Hey Baby through the club windows and remembered why she didn’t go to clubs that often.

“Sonya, please please please stay near me tonight, I don’t think I can handle this solo.” Marnie entreated her friend.

“You got it sweetie, and I have a surprise for you as well,” Sonya smiled mysteriously.

They paid the cabby and got out into the crowd. Flashing their team badges to the bouncer, they were quickly ushered into a different kind of chaos and led quickly to a booth seat designed for eight.

Marnie looked at the occupants and saw the people who had been so kind to her at the mall this morning. She mock glared at Sonya, “You Brat! How did you manage to get them all in?”

“Whatever do you mean Marnie,” Sonya grinned, “This is Team Neil, at least as far as the Club and registration team know. What did you think I was doing whilst you were chin deep in that huge tub?”

Bryan sprang to his feet and hugged Marnie off of hers, and then suddenly she found herself in the middle of a seven person hug.
Marnie waited till the hug broke and grinned around at the entourage that had been sprung on her, “Seriously, what are you all doing here...I mean you barely know me from Eve?”

“Seriously Marnie? Sonya called and we came running. We could all see the distress you were in this morning and this seemed like the right thing to do.” Kayla responded.

“Besides,” Genifer broke in, “We wouldn’t miss one of the best parties of the year!”

Gisele piped up, “Plus we get to see how all our hard work turned out!”

“Oh hush up you two,” Richelle smiled at the sisters and took Marnie by the hand to lead her to a seat in the booth. Once everyone was settled and chatting at club levels, Bryan was elected to find a waitress.

He returned with a young lady in tow just as Daft Punk started playing, “Ladies, this is April and she’s here to look after us tonight.”

“How can I help you tonight?” April yelled pleasantly over the music.

Marnie handed April her credit card, “Let’s run a tab for starters, and speaking of starters, can we get some appetizers for the table please. Then I’ll start with a vodka martini, Dirty.”

There was a chorus of "we can’t let you pay," but Marnie overrode them with, “I owe you all Big Time for what you did earlier, and if anyone else has a family credit card, they can buy the next round!”

April took drink orders from the rest of the party and wove her way through the crowd to the bar.

The DJ spun up Houdini by Foster the People, Genifer and Gisele dragged Marnie reluctantly to the dance floor, “Woooot! Shake it girl!” Gisele yelled as Marnie relaxed and moved to the music with a grace that surprised even herself. Three songs later, Marnie made her way back to the booth and found both food and drink awaiting her.

She took a generous sip of her Martini and felt at peace for the first time today. She was surrounded by her new friends who were all chatting and decided to check on another friend.

~Femi? How are you doing? This is all very new to us both, I figure. ~

~This is unique and enjoyable for me, Marnie. Though the data stream here is very large, I am learning many new things.” ~

~Like what? ~

~Don’t read the comments on Twitter. ~

Marnie almost snorted her drink and covered with a fake sneeze.

It was coming up on one o’clock in the morning and Marnie was alone in the booth momentarily and decided that she was ok with that. Her friends had made sure that there was always someone with her; she was sure at Sonya’s subtle suggestion. There was a short lull in the music as the DJ turned the house music on and began to pack up.

Someone sat down in the booth and startled her until she sort of recognized him. He caught her glance.

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I sit down for a minute? I’ve been on my feet all evening.” He inquired.

“No, please sit down...” she looked at him again, “excuse me if this is rude but aren’t you...”

He cut her off with a grin, “Yeah, it’s me. I’ve been promoting my gin and this party seemed like a great place to do it.”

Marnie grinned back, “Do you mind?” she gestured with her phone.

“Not at all, it’s pretty much the least I can do,” He quipped with a half smile.

Marnie snapped a couple of photos, “I didn’t know you were a boarding fan.”

“Oh big time, are you competing?” He asked.

“Yeah, my trials are in,” she glanced at the phone, one fifteen, “seven hours,” Marnie grimaced.

“I’d better let you go then,” he stood up to leave, “It was a pleasure almost meeting you...?”

“Marnie” she supplied, “the pleasure was mine,” she held out her hand and he shook it firmly.

He wandered off and was lost in the crowd in seconds. Sonya picked that moment to come back to the booth.

“Who was that Hun?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Marnie smiled as the rest of the gang drifted back to the table. April showed up carrying a bottle and seven shot glasses. She placed them on the table. Marnie raised her eyebrows.

“On the house kids, courtesy of the distillery,” April explained as she poured the shots.

Sonya looked at the bottle, Aviation Gin, then looked at Marnie with wide eyes, “No... Way!”

Marnie just sat there and smiled broadly.

They settled up the tab and got ready to go home, the group wanted to keep the party going, but Sonya was firm, noting that Marnie might only get five hours sleep before her trials. They all promised to be in the pits by nine and grabbed an Uber together. Marnie and Sonya took a cab back to the hotel and were heading back to their room by two o’clock.

“Arrgh!” Sonya moaned, “Whose bright idea was it to have a huge party right before trials?”

“Boarder Culture, proves how tough you are, I guess” Marnie burped and went to find water and Tylenol.

Without any further thought, they went to the bedroom and curled up on the huge bed like a basket of kittens.

~Marnie~

“Go way!” Marnie mumbled into her pillow.

~Marnie, its seven am~

Marnie prised her eyes open and surprisingly didn’t expire, in fact she felt good, hungry, but good.

~You’re awake, good~

~Yes, I’m awake and not hung-over... your doing? ~

~Yes Marnie, active nanotech has its uses~ there was a hint of a smile in Femi’s voice.

Marnie gently disentangled herself from Sonya who grumbled something. Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she stood up and padded to the bathroom. After her ablutions, she gently woke Sonya.

Sonya reluctantly got up, “Gah! My tongue feels like the army has been marching on it all night!”

“Go grab a quick shower; it’ll put you back together. I’ll make some coffee.” Marnie suggested, “We have an hour and a quarter to get to the trials.”

While Sonya used the washroom, Marnie got dressed for boarding. She made the coffee and got out cream, sugar and two cups.
When the coffee was brewing, Marnie called down to the front desk and arranged two more nights at the hotel. Sonya came out of the bathroom in a robe, and Marnie was aware that delightful bits of her were poking out here and there. She shook her head, poured coffee for them both and started another pot for the thermos.

“Get yourself ready Sonya,” Marnie said, “we bounce in twenty minutes. Leave your luggage; we have the room for another two days.”

“Cool.” Was Sonya’s only reply. So not a morning person, Marnie thought with a small smile.

They took a cab to the park and went to the security tent. The guard told them there had been no incursions around their tent. Satisfied, they walked to their HQ and Marnie got down to the serious business of selecting a rig and fine tuning it before her first trial of the day.

It was five minutes to nine, when Marnie, decked out in her finest, went to the top of the half pipe and waited for her run to begin.

~OK Femi, let’s do this cleanly, no gyros or magnets or anything that’s not me~

~Will do Marnie, but your physical enhancements cannot be turned off~

~I understand Femi, and thanks~

The clock ticked down the last few seconds and Marnie’s chosen music came blasting through the speakers, Norman Greenbaum’s Spirit in the Sky. She nudged her board over the edge and started building up speed for her first maneuver.

She achieved sufficient air and cut into a Caballerial. Sticking the landing, she then got up the speed to pull a McTwist. 560 degrees later she built up height and speed to pull a loop, like she had yesterday... up, up and over, gripping the board with one hand. Near perfect she landed and bled off speed till she was at rest at the bottom of the pipe. She felt the Caballerial was a bit sloppy, but it was her first run of the day. She made eye contact with the Judges and exited the half pipe.

She made her way back to the pits and was immediately surrounded by her ‘crew’.

“That was Intense!” Kayla gushed.

“Intense? That was bloody brilliant!” Bryan countered.

“Thank you all... I felt the first move wasn’t tight enough, but it’s up to the judges now.” Marnie poured coffee from the thermos and took a deep sip, “We’ll know in about an hour or so.”

She lay down on one of the cots, “Now run along you crazy kids, and enjoy the carnival atmosphere with your passes.” Marnie grinned as Gisele stuck her tongue out at her.

They all trooped off except Sonya who lay down on the other cot with a red bull.

“What do you think about breakfast?” Marnie asked.

“I think I would welcome and devour it,” answered Sonya, “let me check DoorDash...” as she got busy with her phone.

They settled on toasted western sandwiches with orange juice. The food arrived in a half hour and disappeared almost as quickly.

At half past ten, the standings were posted and Marnie showed a strong third overall. “I knew I f’ed up the Caballerial,” she grumbled.

“You’re ticked for coming in Third Overall?” Sonya asked incredulously, “In a field of Seventy five? After all you went through yesterday?” She shook her head.

“Well when you put it that way.” Marnie smiled at her friend.

To Be Continued.

Next time, Milo and Esther reluctantly work together, Ken Brenner stirs up more S**t and Marnie is confused by her feelings.

“I think I’m beginning to understand this ‘bonding’ as best I can,” he paused for another sip, “and if I remember correctly, you’d said that for the neural bonding there’d be a blending of minds in order to create a new one that had the best aspects of both. Is this essentially correct?”

Trish said nothing, but nodded from the monitor.

“Then,” he continued, “I gather that this probably won’t be the case for our bonding, will it?” Trish looked at Greg and nodded again.

“I had never received any information on the other candidates, just what continent each of my family was being sent to so that we could find each other after bonding, and of course my information about you,” Trish replied. “Before I was uplinked to the suit, I was given detailed files that had been collected about you. Did you know that Father had followed your life for over 23 years with great interest? I had assumed that it was because you have a very similar talent to his. I did some background checks and could trace no connections to you otherwise. I feel, perhaps, he wanted an heir and you were acceptable to him. I remember him saying just before I left,

“Tricia, the assignment I’m giving you is probably more difficult than any that your siblings have received. You are going to be our spy, our person who wasn’t there, if you will. You’ll be no one and everyone. In addition, you’ll be bonding with a man, not a woman like your sisters. You’ll discover the reasons in time. As such, your bonding process has been altered somewhat and the neural bonding will be different in that it will not cause a melding of personas. We need both of you to succeed in your mission. It will be like a marriage of minds but many times more intimate then any marriage has ever been.” This was the very night I was sent to you.” Trish smiled for a moment then continued,

“That’s all he told me and when I uploaded into the suit, the next place I expected to be was your head, not a home computer. You are unpredictable Sir.” She stuck out her tongue at Greg. He had to smile. It was all these little actions that increased his affection for this wondrous being.

“Well, I’ve was never that comfortable on blind dates,” Greg chuckled. “Seems your father wasn’t losing a daughter but gaining an enhanced son-in-law.”

Greg suddenly had an idea that might make the situation easier for both of them. He grinned wickedly and got down on one knee to face the startled avatar. Placing his hands on his heart in a comic opera pose, he smiled at the camera.

“Tricia Saber, would you do me the honour of bonding with me? Now, I realize that this is all very sudden, and the age difference between us may seem great… and I’m not the easiest person to live with, I’m grouchy in the morning, I think I snore and…”

Trish started to giggle and he started to smirk.

“Oh, so my suit for your hand is a joke to you, huh?” He grinned like an insane clown.

“Why yes, Dear Sir, yes it is, for I have no hands… look Pa! No hands…” she parried. She started laughing, picked up the joke and ran with it.

“You’re not so bad, I’m certainly no prize either, just look at me. I know several hundred thousand good recipes but I’m a lousy cook. I tend to be a know-it-all except that I barely know you, aside from pretty much everything that is in a data file on you anywhere… oh my…” she broke down laughing again.

Greg’s sides were beginning to hurt and he was nearly out of breath now. He collapsed in a giggling heap on the floor and tried to contain his mirth. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard and thought to himself,

Oh man, Spider Robinson was right, a shared belly laugh is so much better.

He looked at the delighted face in the monitor, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. It was amazing that the Professor had seemed to know him this well. Trish was exactly the kind of woman that appealed to him. She intrigued him on levels he hadn’t known existed previously. As he caught his breath, he examined this thought further.

She’s brilliant, she’s charming, vulnerable, sweet, strong and she’s pushing every single button I’ve got and a few I didn’t even know existed. I’ve known her less then a year and here I am, willing to share my mind with her. I wouldn’t have believed it was possible.

He sighed heartily, rolled into a sitting position on the floor and gazed at the monitor that held his, his… well the woman he was falling in love with, it seemed.

“Trish, I will be honest with you,” he began, “I really feel very strongly for you, and I can admit I’ve never felt this way for anyone in my life. It’s not normal for humans, carbon-based humans anyway, to fall this deeply, this completely for one another this quickly. I want to be able to use the word love correctly, as you and I are about to become closer then any two minds ever were, but I want to use it the way the Admiral used it. In less than six months, your well being, your welfare and your happiness have become essential to me,” he paused again.

“When we first met, I assumed you were just an incredibly advance piece of software, but I’ve come to know better. You are a very special person.” He smiled at her and shook his head ruefully.

“Trish, what you must try to understand is that I’ve lived my life in a society that judges a person on how they conduct their relationships with others. The nicest thing the people in the Parry Sound will say about me is that I’m a rather odd duck or they’ll call me a loner or a hermit. I’ve come to accept that. I’d driven everyone but my closest friends away in the first forty years of my life and those true friends now live far away. I can honestly say I’ve loved and been loved, but never with the depth of feelings that I’m experiencing now. I’m amazed that it happened so quickly…” he trailed off as he felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids. He glanced up to the monitor and saw that Trish had the oddest look on her face.

“Greg, I have only met one other human,” she searched for the words. “I never realized there could be a carbon person whose mind and emotions worked at nearly computer speeds, but I think that I was certain I was falling in love with you from the moment I fell asleep in your arms with you comforting me. You cared for me as a person, not a piece of software, not an AI. You might have tried to debug software, not sooth it and gentle its newfound emotions. You care about my feelings, my mind, and me. I’m not sure about the ‘Admiral’ you speak of, unless you’re referring to the nickname for Robert Heinlein. If I’m correct in that assumption, then I can answer honestly that your well being, welfare and happiness are now as essential to me as if they were hardwired. I really didn’t think that I was capable of it.” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears but she was still smiling, “I want to give my all to you and be with you forever.”

Greg chuckled brokenly and dashed unshed tears from his own eyes.

“Why Ms. Saber, that almost sounds like a marriage proposal and a beautiful one at that. Tricia Saber, will you have me as your bondmate as long as we both shall live?”

Her smile was a wonder to behold.

“Oh yes! I will! And will you, Greg Howard, take me as your bondmate as long as we both shall live?”

Greg did not hesitate at all as he answered,

“I will!”

“Then consider yourselves married in the eyes of God.”

The voice spoke from behind Greg, causing him to jump violently. He slowly stood up and looked at Trish who was staring past him towards the worktable where the suit lay. She made a small squeak. Turning slowly around, Greg saw a hologram of an older man projected from the suit.

“Uh,” Greg cleared his throat, “Professor Saber?”

“No Doctor Howard,” the image began, “Gregory, if I may. This is simply an interactive hologram from a protected memory that even my darling Tricia didn’t know about. I’m so glad for the decision you’ve made as well as the bonding vows you took. You were the one I was counting on and quiet frankly, you did fantastically.”

Trish found her voice.

“Oh Daddy! Thank you for this… I never knew that this was possible!”

The hologram focussed on his daughter.

“Darling Tricia, when I created your brothers and sisters, they were built on the same template as Solomon. You, on the other hand, are the next generation of AI. You are Homo Sapien Silica. A true silicon being with a mind and emotional structure more than equal to any carbon human, perhaps matched only by this man,” the hologram indicated Greg. “His curiosity and deep humanity are what allowed you to meet. Even if the other recipients had found the dataport, they probably would have ignored it as they were putting on the suit. I am delighted that you will be bondmates. Please, try to take the entire bonding time of four months, take six if you can. Whatever else you do, keep a low profile, please, for your own safety and wellbeing. Bless you both.” There was a pop, and a whine as the hologram disappeared.

Greg looked at Trish and was at a loss for words. Trish looked down and blinked away gathered tears, looked back and said,

“Dearest one, I have to return to the suit to await the bonding. Just remember this, you are my true other, I know this in my heart now. I’ve printed the instructions for our joining and eagerly await you. I love you.”

She closed her eyes and one by one, all of the screens and monitors in the room went dark. There was a slight hissing noise and the adaptor disconnected from the suit. Greg looked at the display that had so recently held the woman he had come to love, but all he saw was a blinking cursor. The only noise in the room was the whirring of fans and the printer.

“I love you too, Trish…” he whispered and hoped she could still hear him.

Greg walked over to the printer bin and picked up four pages. The first gave detailed instructions on how to properly put on and seal the suit. The second through fourth were just the words “I Love You” printed repeatedly. He smiled to himself and looked at the clock calendar on the wall. It read December 24th, 2008, 23:25 hours, a half hour before Christmas Day, and just over four months since he received the mysterious package that had changed his life so dramatically. Trish and Greg had talked for over 28 hours and he was very tired. He took Trish from the workbench, somehow feeling her presence in the suit and left the room to sleep.

It was nearly 10:30 am Christmas morning when Greg woke from dreams he couldn’t remember, but he’d felt as content in them as he did now. He rolled to his left and saw the fine fabric that was going to rearrange his entire life, saw that his hand hadn’t left it all night and he smiled. Greg had been so unlike himself the previous night and he’d actually enjoyed it. His soul had been touched for the first time in years and he wanted to keep feeling that for as long as he could. He felt happiness and joy, yes that was how he felt, happy. It was a feeling he’d had a few times throughout his life and he greedily wanted to keep on feeling it. He’d smiled so much last night that his face was sore. It was one of the best Christmas presents he had ever received.

What a pleasant way to wake up, Greg thought as he got out of the bed and walked to the washroom for a shower.
I could get used to awakenings like this. Imagine, actually looking forward to waking up. Greg snorted his amusement as he glanced at the mirror while stepping into the shower.

At forty-five years old, Greg wasn’t in terrible shape, in fact he was in much better shape now then he had been for the first part of his life. He was 173.5 centimetres tall, solidly built, and lean. He still carried a few extra kilos around his stomach, but not the 50 plus he used to haul around. Still, this fitness had been obtained with difficulty as he had only started getting in shape four and a half years ago. All things being equal though, he was not displeased with what he saw in the mirror anymore. After a hot shower and completing the rest of his morning ablutions, Greg walked back to the bedroom. He picked up the four sheets of paper and after looking at the last three with a smile, he turned his attention to the first sheet. He started reading the note aloud and could almost hear her voice.

“Good morning my love, Merry Christmas. I’m looking forward to being with you as soon as possible so let’s begin. Lay out the suit face up. You’ll see the opening that runs from neck to crotch. Open it up and place your legs in the leggings of the suit. Make sure that you have it as snug and straight as possible, as this will aid the integration. Work the body of the suit up and repeat the process with the arms of the unit, making sure that as with the toes, the fingers are on snugly and the arms and hands have as few wrinkles in them as possible.”

Greg put down the paper and started to put the suit on. The mesh felt cool and there was a certain amount of give to it like a good set of long underwear. He had some trouble with the toes and feet but eventually was into the lower half of the ‘union suit’. He glanced behind himself and chuckled.

Nope, no trap door here, he thought.

The fabric went right in between his cheeks and felt uncomfortably like a wedgie. He continued into the suit arms, then got the fingers and thumbs squared away without much difficulty. Looking down, he arranged his genitals into a pouch in the front of the suit and then picked up the instructions again.

“Now pull the hood of the suit over your head. This may be uncomfortable for a while and seem like a ski mask without eyeholes, but remember, the mesh is fine enough to see and breathe through. When you have the hood in place, feel down to the bottom of the front opening. You will find a small nub. Pull this upwards like a zipper until you meet a similar nub at the top of the opening. These will match with a slight click. Lay down as quickly as you can after you do this. The first hour may be a little unnerving. It’s like full body acupuncture, but be brave my dear, we will be together soon. I love you and miss you, Trish.”

Greg put the note down again and pulled the hood over his head. He could still see, after a fashion, and his breathing was unhampered. He reached down to the lower end of the opening and found what felt like a tiny glass bead. Hesitating for a split second, he started to draw the bead upwards. It moved easily and met up with its counterpart on his throat with a slight click. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes as he felt the probes gently pierce his skin. It was uncomfortable, as Trish had warned, but not painful. After an unmeasured time he discovered he didn’t feel the pin like sensations anymore. He tried to sit up, but a familiar voice in his ear told him to lay still. It sounded like a recording played through stereo headphones that were not in his ears but beside them. It also seemed to be some sort of automated system.

“Please be patient, we are integrating with your nervous system in Phase One,” the voice directed. “Phase Two has started running concurrently. The nanomech system will begin the enhancement phase shortly. This will take approximately 5 days. Do not worry, please sleep.” There was a clicking noise and the message repeated in Portuguese, then Thai and finally Russian. By the time the Thai message had played and the Russian started, Greg had fallen asleep with a slight smile on his lips.

As he slept, trillions of nanomechs flooded into his system and went to different parts of his body. Starting with his skeletal system, they began to work making the calcite material stronger than chromium steel, but keeping the organic structures intact. A strange flexibility was also added to the framework of the body under reconstruction. Finishing there, the microscopic robotic horde moved into the connective tissues and muscular fibres enhancing and reinforcing as they went. The raw materials for this process were taken from the suit materials and also built from the organic materials of the body itself. The molecule-sized machines disassembled the atoms of one elemental compound to rebuild it as another needed material. The nervous system connections were wired and tested as the mech started integration of the bond circuitry into the tissues themselves. If an observer had been watching, they would have seen the shape of the body bulging in places, then shrinking as the silvery cloth slowly disappeared into the sleeping form.

After rebuilding most of the organic systems in Greg’s body, the nanomechs concentrated themselves at the base of his spine and worked upwards. They increased the mass and volume of the spinal tissue in order to allow it to handle the new sensory loads that would be transmitted along his spine. By the time they got to the brain stem, Greg had been asleep for five and a half days. The process of neural integration could now begin, and would take about four months. He stirred and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find that his sight had cleared. He stood up.

“The mesh is gone!” he exclaimed.

He held up a hand in front of his eyes, there was no sign of the suit at all.

“That’s amazing!”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, darlin’!” he heard Trish’s merry chuckle in his ears.

Greg jumped a foot in the air while looking around for the source of the voice that had come from right behind him, and after a moment, he noticed he was still a foot in the air.

”What the fuck?” he yelled.

“Language please! There’s a lady present…” she chuckled again.

“Oh Trish! Where are you darling?” Greg ran his palm across his face, “ah geez, am I getting stupid?” Greg could feel himself blushing and he hadn’t blushed for years.

“The suit, and therefore you, have melded with my nervous system, so I hear you through my auditory nerves. Then the physical bonding is complete? Everything worked? You’re wired in?” he asked her excitedly.

“So-to-speak, yes Silly,” the smile was evident in her voice, “physically, we are one and it feels wonderful! I could have never imagined what this experience was like! Now we can talk to each other easily. Remember though, all you have to do is sub-vocalize to me, otherwise you’ll look like you’re talking on a cell phone… or crazy. So, did you miss me?” she laughed and Greg had to as well. He grinned.

“I’ve only been asleep for five days, of course I missed you. So, aside from the floating trick,” he glanced down at the floor a foot below his feet, “what’s new?”

“Oops, sorry, went on autopilot for a minute there…” she sounded embarrassed and he felt himself blush again.

“Now that’s one I didn’t expect,” Greg commented. “You get embarrassed and I blush. We really are physiologically linked, aren’t we? So you’ll feel everything that I do, and I’ll feel some of what you feel as well?”

“That’s almost exactly it, but the really intricate part of the bonding has just begun,” Trish explained. “The nanomechs are starting to link our neural processes, so soon you’ll start to feel and understand what’s going on in my head and vice versa. Our two minds, side by side, it’s just so exciting…” she exuded. Greg felt her excitement and it was starting to have another effect on their body.

“Settle down Sweetheart, lets calm down the thrills for now, or you may find out how complete the connection really is,” he chuckled evilly. He felt her glance down, blush again, and then she smiled. Greg felt the smile as well.

“OK, fun’s fun, but can we get down now? Please? I really have to go…”

“Go? Oh, OH! OK! Hang on…” she suddenly comprehended his request. His feet touched the floor and he dashed for the washroom. Fifteen minutes later, they exited the room and headed for the kitchen.

“That was,” Trish grasped for the polite words, “very… weird,” she lapsed into silence.

“Welcome to the wonderful world of the physical, my girl…” Greg explained wryly, “although, if we are as impervious to external harm as you’ve said we are, our internal biology is probably about the weirdest thing that you’ll experience. Hmmm, those nanomechs will also take care of illnesses, right?”

“Illness and disease, yes, but you’re not an immortal,” she cautioned, “although the bugs can repair most physical damage too, they can only slow but not completely stop the aging process.”

“The bugs?” Greg asked.

“Oh, just a nickname I came up with for the nanomechs,” she said offhandedly, shrugging their shoulders. “Wow! Cool! Did I just do that?” she giggled.

“It sure felt like it, Trish,” he laughed. “Your ‘bugs’ did a very good job on the nervous system connections. Any actions you make seem to be mirrored on our body, just as mine have always been. So who’s driving this rig right now?”

“Oh cool, can I drive, just try, please?” she squealed.

“Sure, go ahead, knock yourself out,” Greg smiled. They promptly fell over sideways.

“What the hell? I didn’t mean that literally. I guess we need training wheels,” he picked himself up off the floor.

“Oooo wow! That’s really hard to do! How do you manage to coordinate the vision, balance and muscle actions all at the same time?” Trish wondered aloud.

“I honestly don’t know,” Greg answered, rubbing his head. “How do you go about making us hover? Walking for me is a completely automatic action because I learned and practiced for years as a child… sort of like being programmed. These learned actions have to be written on the brain chemically, bit by bit. Humans have to learn speech, walking, and critical thinking just as you must’ve had to do when you were first learning and compiling your software,” he paused. “For now, let me handle basic day-to-day maintenance of the standard gear and you can teach me about all of the upgrades, deal?”

“Fair enough.” He heard rather than felt the kiss on his ear.

Breakfast was a very new experience for both of them. Greg had made a large omelette for them, as he felt extremely hungry. It was interesting for him to be busily eating and hear a running commentary on the food and feelings that she was encountering for the first time.

“Oh, mmm, what’s that? That tastes so good and that… what was it… texture… oh my God, that’s so good!” she exclaimed with pleasure. After they finished the meal, Greg tidied up while Trish asked questions about the eating ritual.

“So, what you’re telling me is that we do this maybe two or three times a day? And the… what did you call it… egestions? About the same amount?” asked Trish.

Greg was puzzled for a moment.

“Oh you mean the washroom? More or less, though I suppose there are probably more efficient ways to handle the nourishment cycle. I really can’t think of anything more satisfying then preparing a meal and enjoying it, especially in the company of loved ones,” he began to explain. “The breaking of bread has always bound our societies together because hunger is one of the most basic drives that humans have. As we evolved socially, dining rituals tended to become more and more complex. At the other end of the cycle, the excretions conversely are handled more privately, something that I’m going to have to learn to be more open about now, because you’ll soon be sharing all of my most intimate feelings. The physical for now, emotional and mental soon. I must warn you however, the human mind can be a messy and sometimes dark place.”
He paused, trying to think up an explanation for some of the nastier things that could go on in his mind when she broke his train of thought.

“That’s alright Hon, all your brain really needs is a woman’s touch, maybe a skylight, central air, a few throw cushions, and…” she started laughing.

“There you go, married for less then a day and trying to change me already.” Greg snorted, and then started laughing too.

Trish giggled, “Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! C’mon, let’s throw on some clothes and I’ll start filling you in on the details of the brand new and improved you.”

Greg settled on jeans and a sweatshirt, because Trish had mentioned they really didn’t have to consider the weather a factor anymore. As he was tying the shoes she started to familiarize him with the upgrades.

“OK then, we’re going to run some basics and do drills on each new ability so you can learn to activate them by yourself, and I’ll explain why certain features are strictly automatic and why others are voluntary,” she began. Greg thought about that for a moment.

“OK, that sounds fair, but Trish, you should pay attention to the nerve impulses in our body and note where the action happens when each one fires. Then you’ll see that there are also voluntary and automatic impulses in here as well,” he pointed to his chest. “We’ll run drills for each other and ask questions as we go.”

“This is so cool,” she laughed. “I wonder if the others had this much fun?” Greg stopped to think about that,

“Probably, but I think with a sense of frustration at first. Remember, we’re the only ones to meet each other before the bonding, which gives us a big advantage. We managed to get to know each other first, so I think we were more blessed than your brothers and sisters,” Greg mused. “They had to build the bond of trust after the physical connections were made. I’m willing to bet that some of the human partners of your siblings were more than a little freaked out when they heard AI voices for the first time. I’m so glad I got to meet you first.”

“Me too, Greg. Oh bless you, Daddy,” she sighed.

“Amen to that,” agreed Greg. “So, shall we get started then?” Greg leapt to his feet with a lot more grace and vigour than usual and just about lost his balance.

“Oh look, here’s lesson one,” she said. “During the bonding, the bugs upgraded all of your existing biological structures, improving their efficiency between 30 and 50 percent. At the same time, the information carrying capacity of your nervous system was increased 20 fold. You now have the abilities of an Olympic level athlete as well as the beginnings of the fine motor control necessary to perform at that level,” she paused as he regained their balance. “This control will improve steadily over the next few weeks with practice.”

As they walked out of the house, Greg felt one of his butt cheeks being pinched. He grinned,

“You’re learning, girl, you’re learning…”

“Like I said, practice,” Trish giggled.

They walked into Greg’s backyard which, truth-to-tell, was just over an acre of clearing surrounded by the tall pines and old growth trees of the eco-preserve. He could feel her astonishment as she experienced the great outdoors for the first time. Their eyes wouldn’t stay still for more then a couple of seconds at a time as Trish greedily absorbed the beauty around her. The sense of wonder he was receiving from her was making him appreciate his environment anew.

I don’t know how I could ever have become used to all of this. We get jaded so easily. He was shocked when Trish answered his unspoken thought.

“Yes, but I won’t let you get jaded, and no, I can’t hear your thoughts yet. I felt what you were feeling and the essence of your thought sort of tickled my mind, though I’m not sure how it’s possible after just a few hours. It’s amazing, but it’s not supposed to happen so quickly,” Trish sounded mildly confused.

“Do you want my honest opinion Trish?” he offered. “I think that you may have been designed much more specifically than the Professor or Solomon ever let on. I think that may be why we bonded before I even put on the PNE. The Professor said you were a second generation AI, remember? But there has to be more to it than that. We really are more alike than not.”

To Be Continued

“Do you want my honest opinion Trish?” he offered.

“I think that you may have been designed much more specifically than the Professor or Solomon ever let on. I think that may be why we bonded before I even put on the PNE. The Professor said you were a second generation AI, remember? But there has to be more to it than that."

"We really are more alike than not.”

“Do you feel like you want to explain that partner?” Trish furrowed their brow. “I like the sentiment, but I don’t follow your logic.”

“OK, see if this makes any sense to you,” Greg started, “and remember, I’m just spitballing. One; we know that you are the first of the second generation Saber artificial intelligences to be created. Two; we know that your father had been monitoring me for some 23 odd years, so he probably knew me almost as well as I know myself. Three; we know that he completely redesigned the neural bonding so that both our minds would remain separate but equal. Four; we know that he sent the suit to someone who has such a bad case of curiosity, such a burning desire for knowledge, that he had to have known that I wouldn’t put on the suit without trying to figure it out first,” he paused for a breath.

“So we meet. Julian Saber is so sure that we’re going to meet and interact, that he programs that hologram into the suit. We are so amazingly compatible, that we start to fall in love without physically bonding and then, on top of everything else, the neural phase of the bonding starts working, a full four months before the schedule says it should. If I were a suspicious man and I’m not normally,” he rolled his eyes, “I would have to say we we’re being set up a little here."

"This one has my spidey sense tingling,” Greg smiled.

“OK, I can see where that could be possible,” she allowed. “Everything I learned about the bonding was during my instructional phase with Solomon. That procedure was written for my siblings, so I naturally assumed it was going to be the same for me, but I’m getting a suspicious feeling that our bond design may be second or third generation.” Trish was silent for a few seconds.

“Damn! I can’t fully access the system file! That’s frustrating, but I think you could be right Babe, we may be the first people in history that really were ‘made for each other’. Designer love, on the next Oprah,” she joked. “And now back to our Discovery Channel special, already in progress.”

Greg chuckled.

“OK, I want you to try to feel what I’m doing when I activate the anti-grav system,” she instructed more seriously.

Greg concentrated and felt…something. He couldn’t exactly place it but he had definitely felt it. Trish then deactivated the system and he felt a muscle relax somewhere. Trish continued to activate and deactivate the system repeatedly, he rose up and then came down, updown, updownupdown. He gradually located the feeling. It was at the end of his spine, at the tailbone, flex, relax, flex.

“I think I have it, let me give it a try, Trish.” Greg focussed on the tailbone, flexed and found himself starting to rise into the air slowly. He flexed a little more and quickly found himself looking over the treetops.

“Woohoo! Oh Man! This is absolutely amazing!” he shouted. “I never thought anything could feel so… so…” He felt her smile even though his own grin threatened to split his lower lip. He wanted to float forever. Trish indulged him for a moment longer.

“If you’re all done imitating a balloon we’ll try a little flying. A moving target is always harder to hit. Concentrate on locating and imitating the feelings and I’ll get us started.”

Trish sounds so happy, Greg thought. Well, this is what she was born to do. Suddenly he was no longer stationary. This was even better then just defying gravity, this was a complete defiance of physics. Then they came to a stop and he felt the sensation again, it was in his lower legs or feet, there was a flexing near the arch of his feet and they were in motion again. The muscles relaxed and they drifted to a stop. Greg reached out with his mind and slowly flexed his arches and started moving slowly. He tensed the muscles further and found his speed increasing until the landscape seemed to blur. He relaxed his foot muscles and they came to a stop over a lake he didn’t recognize.

“Oh my Goddess! I can fly!” he screamed joyously, relishing the echoes rolling back to him from the surrounding hills. He hugged himself tightly, focussing on his teacher, “Beloved, if this was all you’d given me, I would truly be blessed. I love you so much.” There were tears in their eyes, and for once it didn’t matter if they were his or hers.

They spent the rest of the afternoon refining their basic floating and flying skills, adding steering and navigation to the agenda. When the sunset painted the western sky ablaze with colour, they headed home, all the while taking note of the landmarks from the air that Greg previously had only known from ground level. They spotted the house and came in for a feather soft landing. As they walked inside, Greg realized he felt exhilarated but exhausted. He prepared a meal for two without even realizing it and felt a small pang of regret that Trish could not share the dining experience with him except as part of him. Trish caught the feeling and smiled gently.

“No regrets love, never again,” she soothed.

As it turned out, it was just as well he’d prepared as much food as he had because he was shaking with hunger by the time he sat down at the table and only felt renewed when he’d polished off every last morsel.

“I don’t believe I’ve eaten that much in one sitting for years,” he said in wonderment.

“That’s because you burned a lot of fuel today buddy. Your body’s energy needs have greatly increased and you’ll probably find yourself eating twice as much as that again when you really start learning to use your abilities. The bugs are a good deal more efficient at getting the fuel from your food so we’ll be able to build up reserves, which we’ll need in mission critical situations. But you’d better think about carrying some sort of food concentrates with us from now on.” She turned their head and glanced at the clock, which struck Greg as a very natural thing to do, even with a built in chronometer.

“Well, bedtime for you my dear,” she clucked. “I may be able to work all night, but you need your rest. Now off to the bedroom and sleep well.” Greg stripped down and gratefully crawled into bed. He was asleep in minutes.

Trish, however, had others irons in the fire to deal with. She set out to explore the nervous system that she was now an integral part of in order to gain a greater control of their body. She could protect Greg more completely if she understood how everything worked, even take control if he ever became incapacitated. With a determination she had never experienced before, Trish started feeling out each nerve ending and explored what each impulse did or controlled, cataloguing the results. This fine motor control was also going to be needed for their real powers and abilities. Trish felt a twinge of guilt. She’d been procrastinating about telling Greg all of the special abilities they now possessed. Would he be able to deal with them? Well, Trish would make sure no harm ever came to Greg, no matter what.

Suddenly, she found herself standing in Greg’s yard in the sunlight, but she also saw Greg standing and gazing at her. She felt a body but it wasn’t his. She raised her hand and saw it was slender and feminine. She touched her face and felt soft skin, and moved long hair from her eyes. Trish didn’t understand what was happening. She looked down and saw that she indeed possessed her own body clothed in a sundress. She could feel the sunshine on her face and the breeze that was blowing her hair. She felt the warm grass on her bare feet and then looked back up. Greg was still gazing longingly at her. She started to walk toward him. They met and he embraced her tightly kissing her all over her face. Trish still didn’t understand what was happening and didn’t want to understand it at all. They hugged for what felt like hours and then she found herself involuntarily stepping back. She tried to resist but then suddenly saw herself through his eyes as her very image turned smoky and drifted away on the wind.

Abruptly, she was back in their physical network and heard Greg whimper in his sleep. She had been in his dreams and was elated! Then almost immediately, she felt a pang of sorrow for Greg. The dream had not ended happily for him. As he settled into a deeper sleep, she felt the tear slip from his eye and travel down his cheek. She went back to her project, promising herself they’d meet again in his dreams, and from now on, they’d be happy dreams for both of them.

They soon established a pattern over the next few weeks. Trish would be waiting to greet him as he woke, they would get clean and dressed, eat a large breakfast and pack a waist pouch with energy bars. Then Trish would explain a basic ability or manoeuvre, demonstrate it to him several times, and sit back happily as he threw himself eagerly into honing each new skill or ability. And he literally threw himself into it on the day she explained the automatic armouring systems. Trish had to laugh as Greg delighted himself by flying at high speed into cliff faces, trees, boulders and even the ground, flying up to high altitudes and letting himself free fall back to Earth. Any phobias that he might have had about heights died that day, along with his jeans, shirt and shoes. As he picked himself out of his latest impact crater, dressed only in boxers and socks, he commented on the relative fragility of his clothing,

“Well, this is one of the things they never showed in the comics… maybe in Spiderman. I wonder how The SIX deal with this problem? We certainly can’t have naked heroes running around all over the place.” Trish laughed aloud at this and they were both astounded to hear her feminine laughter pour from his lips.

“OK, that was a definite WTF moment,” Greg said.

“Um y-yeah, that was weird,” she stammered. She didn’t want to tip her hand about their primary powers too soon but resolved not to lie to him either. If he asked what their abilities were, she’d tell him, but she really hoped he wouldn’t ask… at least not yet. Luckily for her, Greg just shrugged off the incident and power skipped his body across the icy surface of Three Legged Lake like a large stone. Like a big kid, Greg was having the time of his life.

Phew, good thing he’s easily distracted, Trish thought.

Over the next two weeks, Greg discovered he had a compass in his head, though it was much more like a GPS navigational system. His visual cortex now had additions that seemed like the picture in picture feature of his television. He could pop up windows of information without obscuring his vision, sort of like a really fancy heads up display. He had lots of fun with that one, drifting along through the clouds, watching broadcast signals.

“Just like an in-flight movie!” he crowed. They laughed together happily. To Greg, this was better then all his birthdays and Christmases wrapped up together! He could now see in the dark as clearly as daylight and he could ‘hear’ all forms of broadcasting at will, from commercial radio to military frequencies. He could tap into the internet and many private networks as well, by focussing his attention, and he seemed to have near limitless information storage capacity. Greg felt young again, powerful, but he never took for granted just where all the gifts came from, his bondmate, Tricia. Still, he carefully hid his few regrets from her, how he longed to hold her in his arms and simply kiss her. He’d been having dreams like that recently, but she always faded away. He realized that these dreams were, in part, a longing for a physical relationship that couldn’t be and never burdened Trish with them. He kept his small sorrows to himself, or so he thought.

By March 23rd, 2009, Trish and Greg had been bonded for twelve busy weeks, time that had been filled with both training and discovery. However, he noticed to his surprise that they were almost completely out of supplies. Normally, he kept a year’s worth of non-perishable food and a well-stocked freezer.. But, due to the demands of their increased metabolism, he discovered they were down to some canned beans, about two litres of milk and half a dozen questionable eggs. Greg looked at the clock calendar in the kitchen and was shocked to see the date. They’d be thinking he’d died or something. He hadn’t been back in town since that day last August when he’d received the parcel that changed his life and made it infinitely better.

“Hey Trish, what’re you up to love?” he asked her. She responded slowly as if she had been lost in thought.

“Hmm? Oh, hi darling, kiss-kiss. I was just testing some of the neural network that’s already in place,” she said brightly. “It’s astounding, the bugs have interconnected a full 48 percent of our brain functions. I can almost hear you sometimes. So, what’s up?”

“Well Hon, we’re almost out of everything. Except, oddly enough, laundry detergent,” he chuckled. Ever since he had stopped caring about climate, they’d taken to training almost exclusively in shorts and a tee-shirt.

“I figured that we should head into Parry Sound for a food run at the very least,” he continued. “While we’re there, we should show our face around town to prove that I’m still alive, and before the OPP shows up looking for a corpse and ends up spotting us flying around instead. I thought we could do some window-shopping, maybe catch a flick and then I could take you out to dinner. How’s that sound?” Greg invited. Trish didn’t panic, not so you’d notice, anyway. Nevertheless, some of her anxiety leaked through their developing neural connections.

“What’s the matter Trish?” he asked. She hesitated shortly, then made her decision.

“Greg, it’s about time that I filled you in on the primary powers that you’ve gained. I had really hoped this could’ve waited until more of the neural connections were in place, so that we could discuss this in a more intimate setting and you’d be able to see some of the concepts directly. You’ve been so patient with me, never even asking what my acronym stood for, but now I need to show you something, c’mon,” she directed. They went to the washroom and stood before the full-length mirror.

“Take off your clothes and have a really good look at yourself,” she instructed, “tell me what you see.”

“I see myself,” he hesitated, “but not myself. I look a heck of a lot younger. Hell, I look like I did at age 25! Is this the nanomechs handiwork? I know a lot of people who would kill for a bug treatment,” He grinned and flexed. It was incredible, Greg had known that he felt physically younger, but it had never really occurred to him to take much more then a cursory glance at the mirror in the mornings when he woke up. He was having so much fun with the lessons, and then in the evenings, he was usually too happily exhausted to do more than shower, brush his teeth and roll into bed.

Trish waited a moment, then continued.

“Now watch closely, Greg. I’ve been practicing fine nervous control at nights so I’d be able to demonstrate this to you when the time came,” Trish exhaled slowly. “Please be quiet while I concentrate, this is my first actual test run.”

Greg watched in awe as the muscles all over his face started to twitch and twist. His features started to look blurry and lumpy as he watched. In fact, his face seemed to be rearranging itself. In a matter of seconds, the process was completed and Greg found himself looking at Trish’s reflection. He reached up to their face, gingerly touching it with his hand as he distractedly noted that her lips moved as she spoke.

“This is our primary gift, we can physically duplicate anyone on the planet,” she paused to let him absorb the information. It was astounding, her voice coming from her face set incongruously atop his body.

“At the moment, only I can control the changes because it takes a high degree of nervous system manipulation, and I can only do facial features and voices right now. We are TRI Ca, Transformative Replication & Infiltration. We were to be the espionage unit of the group,” Trish waited nervously for Greg’s reaction but he was still poking at their face making odd grimaces and grins in the mirror. He stopped and with a huge grin, looked her directly in the eyes.

“This… is… so… effing…COOL! I didn’t even feel anything when we changed and it was so quick! This is like that movie, X-Men! They had a shape shifter in it, too. This is awesome, c’mon, do someone else! ” he was giggling in excitement. Trish rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know why I was so worried about telling you,” she responded. Walking to the bedroom, they sat down on the end of the bed.

“You really are such a toad. I should have figured a comic book geek like you wouldn’t be fazed by anything, not even this,” she teased.

“Girl, just seeing your beautiful face in person is the only thing that fazes me. Welcome home, darling, I’ve missed you,” he smiled warmly. Trish felt herself tearing up but she didn’t really care. Why should she care? She felt safe, loved, and at home. There was nothing better than that.

“Uh, well it’s good to see you too,” she managed. She was flustered by the acceptance and love she was feeling. Trish was also having trouble concentrating because Greg kept stroking her cheek and distracting her.

“Please Greg, stop. I need to let you know what else we’re capable of. It’s important.” she sounded mildly annoyed.

“OK, pretty teacher. I’ll be good… for now, anyways,” he said sexily. His words warmed her almost as much as his touch. She forced herself to focus.

“You’ve seen a small example of what we’re capable of. You’ll also notice that once the transformative sequence is complete, it takes relatively little effort to sustain it. As our neural net becomes whole, we’ll be able to transform ourselves completely. Our mass will have to remain the same, but that just means that smaller duplications will be physically denser and will necessitate the use of the anti-grav systems that we use for flight,” Trish explained.

“Any physical changes are complete right down to voiceprint, retinas, fingerprints and DNA if we have the samples on file. Because most information of that sort, including handwriting patterns, are in a data file somewhere on the planet, we can impersonate just about anyone.” Trish stood up and walked to the lab where they had met for the first time. She was in complete control of their body and enjoyed it immensely. They glanced around the room. There was a fine layer of dust on the surfaces of all the workbenches and computers as they had not been in here since the night before their bonding.

“Remind me to fire the maid,” Greg quipped,

“Ha-ha, you’re a funny guy,” she snorted. “OK, and for my next trick… nothing up your sleeve.” She walked up to one of his servers that had been turned off for more than two months and put their hand on it.

Greg felt a tingle, like a small static charge, run up his arm and the system powered up. He felt slightly dizzy and closed his eyes. The strangest thing was that he could see the contents of the drives in his head. It was fuzzy, but he could feel the entire network now. He could switch from unit to unit and feel the data flowing through him as well as all around him. It reminded him of swimming. When he opened his eyes, although not a single monitor was active, he could see the data represented around him like a three-dimensional map. He lifted his hand off the computer and found that the image stayed where it was.

“We don’t need to maintain physical contact with the device?” he asked distractedly.

“No, just a light brush of the fingertips and we’re in,” Trish answered. “We have extensive encryption and decryption algorithms built into our systems and our skills will grow as we make more connections. There is, in theory, no network closed to us as long as we can touch it physically. Add to this your skills as a hacker…”

“Excuse me, that’s technologist,” he interrupted.

“…right, like I said, Hacker,” she continued undaunted. “We can wander around systems and leave virtually no footprints. Cleaning up afterwards is your job, Techboy. We can pretty much control anything that has a processor in it. Didn’t you tell me just the other day, that information was the only real power left in the world? Well, we have access to that power on a scale undreamt of.” Trish brushed the tower again and the data of the entire network seemed to flow into their fingertips. The computers all powered down and the only evidence that anyone had been there was a handprint in the dust.

“There,” she finished. “We now have your entire data net stored and filed for any future use. Including your hacker, oh, I’m sorry, technologist tools,” she quipped.

“Oh, ha-ha, my sides,” he retorted.

“Our sides?” she asked innocently.

“Humph,” he pouted.

They turned and walked toward the living room. Entering, she deliberately brushed her hand over each piece of his entertainment system. As they sat down on the sofa, she reached out and pointed at the TV. It snapped to life obligingly. She ran through the channels by looking and focussing their eyes slightly, then gestured again and the screen went cold. She pointed towards the music player, which jumped to life. Trish hummed the first few bars of ‘A Day In The Life’ and the song began to play.

“You must be the life of the party Ms. DJ. I guess we can do this with the toaster too,” he said sulkily.

“Yes, but why bother? You’d still have to put the bread in,” she razzed him.

“You know smartass, if it was possible to get my hands on you, I’d tickle you without mercy. However, if I remember correctly, it’s impossible to tickle yourself, so you’re safe… for now,” he stopped grumping. “Trish, this is all so cool, we’re a super spy like James Bond with a built in Q-branch. But what was it about going into town that prompted this dog and pony show?”

“Well, for one thing,” she hesitated, “you don’t really look like yourself.”

“I know that Trish, I look like you,” Greg baited her. She hit him with a pillow.

“Ass,” she growled. “I meant you look like you did 20 years ago. If you went into town like that, no one would believe that you are Greg Howard. And that seems to be the point of this whole exercise, Techboy. Where do you keep your driver’s licence?”

“In the bedroom, on the dresser, in the wallet…why?” he rattled off its location.

They walked into the bedroom. Trish extracted the driver’s licence and examined it closely.

“Hey, nice picture spud,” she teased.

“Yeah? Wait till you get one done Princess, we’ll see how good it turns out,” he sniped back. “Speaking of ID, we’ll need to create a public identity for you as well, just in case you decide that you need a girls’ night out.”

“That can wait, now hush, I’m concentrating. I have to recreate you for your adoring public,” Trish chided sarcastically.

In less then a minute, Greg had his 45 year old face again. It looked stranger on his younger body then Trish’s face had, but at least she had ironed out a few of the wrinkles.

“Hmmm…” he murmured.

“Speak up if you don’t like the service,” she replied.

“Well then, my artistic diva,” he glanced down, “I was just thinking that my hands should have a little more age in them as well. Ahhh, that’s better. Old age never felt this good. Ready to rock n’ roll?”

“I’m about as ready as anyone who’s never been out in public before can be,” she said with slight trepidation.

“OK, but you’d better leave the motor control to me this time and that means no hitting me either. That would look kinda strange, and that’s the last thing you want in a small town. Ready for our first date?” Greg asked sweetly.

Trish rolled their eyes.

“Geez, did we ever get things ass-backwards,” she cracked. Greg took the precaution of slipping on a Bluetooth headset.

“What’s that for Greg?” Trish asked him.

“Just insurance in case I speak aloud to you. With this,” he indicated the earpiece, “people will think I’m on my cell phone and not crazy.”

“What a good idea,” Trish remarked. They put on his coat and hat and got on the snowmobile for the drive across the frozen Shebeshekong Channel to where Greg’s truck waited.

To Be Continued

Ready for our first date?” Greg asked sweetly. Trish rolled their eyes.

“Geez, did we ever get things ass-backwards,” she cracked. Greg took the precaution of slipping on a Bluetooth headset.

“What’s that for Greg?” Trish asked him.

“Just insurance in case I speak aloud to you. With this,” he indicated the earpiece, “people will think I’m on my cell phone and not crazy.”

“What a good idea,” Trish remarked.

They put on his coat and hat and got on the snowmobile for the drive across the frozen Shebeshekong Channel to where Greg’s truck waited.

It was an hour’s drive by snowmobile from Greg's house, across the channel to get to the private landing he maintained near the small community of Snug Harbour. Although they could have flown it in fifteen minutes, they decided to keep as low a profile as possible. During the trip, Greg gave Trish advice about dealing with others.

“Trish, it’s not about your interpersonal skills, it’s just that you’ve never dealt with average people before. Honestly, how many people have you actually encountered in your life?”

“You know very well that I’ve only met you and my Daddy,” she countered sharply. Greg slipped into a Sean Connery imitation,

“Extraordinary gentlemen, indeed.” He felt her chuckle and start to relax slightly.

“Not bad for a dated reference, but you’ll improve with practice,” Trish quipped.

“Anyhow,” he continued, “most people are less tolerant of the strange and unusual then people like your dad. Their minds are not alive like yours and they tend to treat anything new and different with fear and suspicion. You’ve watched the newsfeeds and seen the web. It’s a very rare person that can open his or her eyes and see reality like you and I see it,” Greg finished.

"That’s really sad, how can people stand to live like that?” asked Trish.

“Most people don’t even realize that they’re like that,” Greg posited. “It’s a learned behaviour unfortunately, and although a few are shaking off their fear, many more cling to it desperately because it’s familiar. Fear was the root of my depression for many years,” he mused.

“No Greg, you’re wrong,” she countered. “The root of your depression was biochemical in nature but somehow you managed to cure yourself. Fear was merely a symptom of that imbalance. The bugs have cleared up the lesions left behind, by the way.” Greg considered this before continuing.

“All I’m trying to say Dear, is that most of the people we meet today and in the future will be nice as individuals, but could revert to a mob mentality if they felt threatened. I’m not trying to frighten you, I’m just making sure you understand why we have to be so cautious. I was odd enough for these people before you entered my life. I was even called the ‘local mad scientist’ by some folks around here because of my researches in alternative energy.”

He cackled maniacally, “Lies, all lies. I was never mad, just ticked off,” Greg cleared his throat, “Today you’re going to encounter some nice people who’ve most likely never heard of neural interfaces, nanomechs or seen people fly without a plane before. A lot of them have very good home computers but only use the systems’ most basic capabilities. So, I think it’s safe to say the concept of artificial intelligence is strictly ‘Hollywood’ to them.”

Greg paused as he concentrated on guiding the snowmobile onto the frozen surface of the channel. He did a quick survey of the ice surface for cracks and heaves to avoid, and then continued,

“Trish I’d say that as long as we’re friendly and non-threatening, there won’t be any problems.”

“Well, as you’ve said, we’re supposed to be a super spy. Let’s go blend into the background. This can be our first stealth training mission,” Trish said earnestly. Greg thought for a moment,

“Sound’s like a very good plan. I was thinking we could go to the Log Cabin restaurant for an early supper after we take a stroll along James Street and window shop for a while. After supper we go over to the mall on Parry Sound Drive to see a movie and lay in some supplies, keeping a low profile and being casual all the way.”

Trish thought about that and agreed. They chatted for a while about how their abilities could be used for the good of the world and before they realized it, they were pulling up beside Greg’s Land Rover. He locked up the snowmobile, started the truck and let it warm up. Greg felt Trish looking intently at his vehicle.

“What?” he prompted.

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking that it seems a little odd that you drive such a large truck and run a research lab like the AERI,” she commented.

“Well, for places like the Georgian Bay area in winter, you need snowmobiles and four wheel drive vehicles to get around. I do have these two running with some improvements,” Greg explained, “and here’s the clever part: the truck is a hybrid system that I came up with. Its fuel cells and regenerative braking system supply the truck with an electrical drive up to 80 kilometres an hour, and then the low emission ethanol engine takes over for speeds above 80. I have the transmission geared so the electrical motor has easily as much torque as the internal combustion engine does. My design was just adopted for use in Canada because it uses 85% less fossil fuel than any other hybrid currently in production. The snowmobile runs on an ethanol engine as well.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, and here I thought you were just a pretty face,” she chirped. He smiled and then looked over to the right.

“Head’s up, company coming,” he announced.

“Who is it Greg?” Trish was concerned.

“Just the local representatives of the Ontario Provincial Police checking up on me,” he said easily. “I’m guessing it was a good idea to come into town today.”

“You’re right again my genius,” Trish quipped and paused. “Hey, if you can manage to get any flesh-to-flesh contact, like a handshake, will you do it? I’ll explain why later. Gotta go now, love you!” Greg turned to face the truck driving towards him. It pulled to a stop and the cops got out as Greg walked over to meet them.

“How do, Doc? Long time no see,” the Sergeant greeted him with a crooked grin.

“Yeah Don, it has been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been really busy I guess,” Greg countered with an easy smile.

“Oh yeah, I was reading about your ‘wonder car’ yonder in Popular Mechanics. Slick as snot!” Don Gauld pointed toward the Land Rover. “I hear the town council was discussing a party or something for you. The kid and I were just gonna cross the channel to see if you were all right but it looks like you are,” Don grinned. “Saved us a trip. Headed to town?”

“Yeah Don,” Greg smiled at his friend, “I’ve got to pick up some groceries and thought I’d grab some dinner at the Log Cabin tonight, maybe catch a flick. You know, take a little break from being a hermit.” Greg smiled and extended his hand. Don took it and gave it a firm pump. A slight tingle ran up Greg’s arm, but the Sergeant didn’t even appear to notice. The officers walked toward their truck and while his partner got into the vehicle, Don turned back towards Greg.

“Hey Doc! What’d you think about these superheroes? Pretty weird shit, huh?”

Greg stiffened slightly but forced a grin.

“Aw c’mon Gauld, don’t be a goof! Do you really buy that tabloid crap? Oh, what, did you see one or something?” Greg needled the big man.

“Nah, but I heard there were a bunch of them up Sudbury way last December. Some big dustup with the smelting companies or sumthin’. Me, I’m not sure what to think, but still, it’s pretty cool to have real live superheroes,” the Sergeant grinned like a kid, waved, got into the truck and drove off.

“Friend of yours?” Greg was slightly startled when Trish spoke.

“Who, Don? Yeah, we buy comics at the same store, Middle Earth,” he smiled at this recollection. “I run into him from time to time. What was that shock I got when I shook his hand?”

“We just sampled his DNA and fingerprints. Our scanners took care of it automatically,” Trish explained. “We can imitate him anytime now that he’s in our files. But you felt tense when you were talking to him, why were you concerned about him? He seems like a nice enough person.”

“Just a little jumpy, I guess,” he rolled his shoulders and head to relieve the pent up tension. “Then he mentioned superheroes and I thought he knew about us. Sure, he’s nice, but that’s because he doesn’t suspect me of anything, and apparently, the town seems to have claimed me as a local hero,” Greg snorted. “Second only to Bobby Orr I guess, nevertheless you have to remember, he’s the local law and representative of the provincial government around here. It’s his job to be more suspicious than the average person.”

They got into Greg’s truck, fastened the seat belt and drove off. The access road to his landing hadn’t been ploughed out as he’d expected, but it wasn’t anything the truck couldn’t handle. They picked up Highway 559 by Killbear Provincial Park and drove toward Highway 69. They exited at Centennial Drive and came into the town of Parry Sound. Finding a parking spot near James Street on Seguin Street, they got out of the Rover. Greg glanced at his watch out of habit and saw it was 12:30pm.

“Your watch is slow,” she noted.

“It’s not bad for a cheap quartz,” Greg said. “Besides, we have to put on a show of normalcy for the locals, be seen around town and such. I should go to my bank and get my accounts checked and updated.” They turned and walked across the street to the branch Greg used for personal visits. There was a small crowd waiting in line, but not too many for lunchtime on a winter’s day. As he walked past the ATMs, he felt his right hand brushing the casing and their systems tapping the network. With a smile on his face, he opened the main door to the bank and was immediately spotted by one of the other patrons.

“Hey! It’s the Doc!” The staff and locals gathered around him shaking his hand and talking all at once.

“Hey, congratulations!”

“That truck is great!”

“Good work!”

“…buying one.”

“Did you know they’re putting your name up on a sign by the Highway?”

“I just read somewhere that they’re going to do refits…”

And so on for about 5 minutes with Greg’s arm tingling almost constantly as they sampled the crowd. When things finally calmed down a little and Greg had caught his breath, he went to the teller and asked for his book to be updated. The girl glanced up at him and smiled warmly.

“So Doc, you must be keeping busy, usually you drop in every couple of months.” Greg looked at her nametag and winked,

“Yeah Angie, its real hush-hush stuff, much better than the car. I’d tell you about it, but…”

“Yeah, I know, ‘but then you’d have to kill me’ sure, ha-ha-ha, you use the same old joke every time you come in,” Angie grinned. “Here’s your book, can I help you with anything else?”

“Well, if you could check my account and bump up the card limit that would be lovely,” he glanced absently at his bank book. “I seem to have come into some money that needs to be spent.” Angie smiled winningly at him,

“Oh, poor you, a private island and a big pile of money! Boo hoo!” she said sarcastically. “Doc, you need to spend some more time in town. I know of lotsa girls who’d love to hook you.”

“And that, Angie, is why I live on the island,” he smiled back. “If I had a lady friend, I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t have a pile of money.” There hadn’t been this much attention paid to him the last time he’d been in town.

“Oh pooh Doc,” Angie made a moue. “OK, you have a 6,000 dollar daily limit on the card now but if you need more, just give me a call. Here’s my card. Um, Doc? No offence intended but a lot of people here in town weren’t too sure about your lab on the island when you first came here. They thought you were a kook or mad scientist or something. I just want to say, it’s nice to know you’re trying to help the planet over there at the… what do you call it… area?”

“AERI, I call it the AERI, like an eagles nest. I was never a mad scientist,” Greg paused. “I knew one once, people died… not nice. I knew a nutty Professor too. Well, thanks for your help and your kind words Angie.” As Greg left, he overheard Angie speaking to a co-worker.

“He’s a really nice guy, and not too bad to look at either. It’s a pity he’s not looking.”

“Yeah, and he’s rich too,” the other woman responded. When Greg turned Angie’s card over in his hand he saw there that were two other numbers on it marked home and cell. He could barely suppress his amusement until he got outside the bank. Local Hero, pfah! If they only knew, Greg thought to himself. Trish piped up,

“Well that was fun. Do you think those girls could have been any more forward with you?”

“What’s this Sport? Jealousy?” Greg was astonished.

“Well, you are mine, you know! Just like I’m yours. Anyway, those girls have nothing on me and you know it,” she retorted. Greg laughed and reassured her,

“I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else Love, and you know it too. I guess that’s the reason I’ve been alone so long, I was waiting for Ms. Perfect to come along. I’m glad I waited.”

“Well OK, then…” Trish sounded mollified and that made Greg feel better.

They walked up James, looking in the shops and just enjoying each other’s company. Occasionally, someone would greet Greg or stop to talk, so they just made a nice afternoon of it. It was a little shy of 4:00pm when Greg had an idea.

“Trish? Don’t take this the wrong way, but is it possible to give me about 20 minutes of privacy?”

“I think we can still do that,” she replied, “but when the bugs finish the brain work it probably won’t be possible. I’ll just stop monitoring the optic and aural nerves and come back in 20 minutes, OK?”

“That’ll be great, Trish. No peeking though. See ya soon,” he smiled.

“Try to survive without me, OK Stud? Mwah!”

There was a slight hum in his ears and Greg immediately knew he was alone; alone for the first time in about 6 months. It was a feeling he had grown unused to and it surprised him. He shook his head and got on with his task. He had spotted the jewellery store as they were walking and it had given him this idea. Now he walked towards the shop and entered. The jeweller looked up and smiled.

“Good afternoon Sir, how may I be of assistance today?”

“I’m looking for a ring that either a man or woman could wear,” Greg began, “with a sort of weave design maybe in white and yellow gold. Do you have anything like that?”

“Why yes Sir, we have a lovely solitaire set in a platinum and yellow gold band for 1,200 dollars, would you like to see it?” the gentleman offered. Greg winced slightly at the price but reminded himself that he apparently had much more money than he needed. He smiled at the man.

“I’d love to see it.”

“Certainly Sir,” the jeweller gestured. “If you’ll come this way please.” The jeweller opened a case and took out a ring that looked like a wedding band and an engagement ring had been merged. It was the perfect ring for Greg’s plan.

“May I try it on?” Greg asked enthusiastically.

“Of course Sir, right or left hand?”

“Left, my fiancée is coming to town soon and I wanted to surprise her with these.” Greg was startled by his own answer. The ring fit nearly perfectly and would need only minor resizing. Well, that could wait he thought as he admired it on his hand.

“I really like it, what size is that?”

“This one is 16.5 millimetres,” the jeweller responded. “And your fiancée’s ring size?”

“I think it’s about 14.5 or 15,” Greg was unsure because he’d never really seen Trish’s hand.

“Well in that case, I’d suggest taking the 15 because it can be resized as needed. Would you like to take them now?” the gentleman asked.

“Yes please.” Greg had a sudden inspiration, “Do you have a ring box that both will sit side-by-side in?”

“I don’t believe that will be a problem Sir, how would you like to pay for this?”

“Debit please.” Greg handed his card to the jeweller who took it to the cash register. As the gentleman busied himself with the transaction, Greg thought about what he was doing.

I really hope Trish likes this, the ring is amazing, almost like a physical manifestation of our bond. She’s given me so much, I just wanna give her something back. He glanced at a display by the jeweller and saw a necklace of two-tone gold mesh hanging there. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, I’d like that necklace as well. It’s sort of a late Christmas present,” he said as he pointed toward it.

“Another excellent choice Sir,” the jeweller noted. “Just one moment while I add up the total for you… there we go. That will be 2,650 dollars and I’ll eat the taxes.” Greg took the Debit pad and entered his pin, the system approved quickly and the jeweller handed him a black velvet bag with his purchases inside. As he took the receipt the man said,

“I’ve taken the liberty of giving you a free resizing certificate for your fiancée’s ring Sir, and may I be amongst the first to offer my congratulations, Doctor Howard.” Whoops, this would be all over town soon enough. Greg hadn’t realized he’d been recognized, but oh well, this was one-step closer to a cover story for Trish.

“Thank you so much Sir, you’ve been most helpful, I’ll be sure to send the future Mrs. to see ya soon. Oh dear, I’d better run, I’m late. Have a good day.”

Greg stashed the package in an inside pocket of his parka, walked out of the shop and down the street. He glanced at his watch and saw that his timing had been nearly perfect. He headed back toward the truck and was halfway there when he heard a slight hum in his ears again. He smiled, he really had missed Trish’s.

“Hi big guy,” Trish greeted him warmly. “Did you have fun while I was gone? I missed you lots.”

“Well, you probably would have been bored,” Greg lied smoothly. “I missed you too, so I won’t ask you to go away anymore, OK?”

“OK! Can we eat something soon? We’re really hungry and missed lunch,” she begged playfully.

“You walking appetite. You read my mind, let’s go,” Greg smiled indulgently.

“Not yet, but not for lack of trying, what are you hiding?” Trish probed. Greg simply smirked as they got in the truck and drove towards Oastler Park Road and the restaurant.

It was a little after 5:00pm when they parked the Rover and walked in. The host looked up,.

“Good evening, a table for one, Sir?” he asked.

“That will be fine, over by a window, if you can,” Greg replied.

“Certainly Sir, follow me please.” The host seated them at the table and made to remove the other place setting.

"No, it’s alright, you can leave them there,” Greg instructed. “Could you bring me a bottle of 1998 Baco Noir, Pelham Estates please? It’s a happy day for me.”

“Very good Sir, your waiter will be along shortly with the wine. Here’s your menu.” The host quickly walked off to greet a couple at the front of the restaurant and left Greg to study the menu.

“Well Trish, what would you like to try? This is our first date after all,” Greg inquired sotto voce.

“You’re a really funny man Greg Howard,” she said gently, “do you know that? You’re a gentleman, a romantic, a man of action, and yet you’re still truly embarrassed by all this attention, aren’t you?” Greg blushed slightly.

“I guess I am Trish, this is all very new to me.”

“Well, I think it’s cute. Let’s see what looks good,” she concluded. The waiter arrived with the wine and poured for Greg.

“Good evening and welcome to the…” the waiter recognized him. “Hey! Doctor Howard! Nice to see you again, that car thing of yours rocks!”

“Thanks… Scott, isn’t it?” Greg smiled slightly. “I felt all cooped up on the island and decided to celebrate a little, and since I needed groceries as well… two birds and all that.”

“Cool! You know, I’m saving up for a conversion on my car with your gizmo. I really hate paying the crazy gas prices around here and the planet isn’t getting any cleaner on it’s own,” Scott trailed off. “Um, so, have you decided on your order or would you like to hear tonight’s specials?”

“It’s OK Scott,” Greg stopped him. “I’ve decided to start with the Escargot Portabelle, the Warm Tomato & Feta Salad and the Lobster Tails.” The waiter looked impressed.

“Excellent choices Doctor,” he was all business again. “I’ll be along shortly with your appetizer.” Scott turned and walked in the direction of the kitchen. Greg picked up his wineglass and took a sip. It was, in his opinion, one of the best vintages for this particular wine.

“Here’s to us, Tricia.”

“To us,” she echoed. “You really seem to know your food. Dinner sounds like it will be lovely.” Greg closed their eyes and reached into his coat pocket.

“Hey! I can’t see… just what are you up to?” Trish sounded slightly aggrieved.

“Behave! And no peeking!” he shushed her. He opened the ring box first and positioned it in front of them before opening their eyes.

“Surprise!” he announced as he felt Trish inhale sharply.

“Oh my… Greg, they’re beautiful, I love them, but why?” She was flabbergasted.

“Every bride deserves a ring Dearest,” he smiled gently, “and just in case we can’t wear them openly…” he snapped open the necklace box. “Ta-da!” he hummed.

“Oh, oh, you sneaky rat! I’m gonna cry,” her voice quavered.

“Well, you’d better wait till we’re alone Love.” He was ecstatic that she liked his surprise. “We can have a cry and a cuddle later, look the food’s coming.”

“God, I love you so much Greg. Don’t you ever forget it,” she gushed.

“I love you too Trish, shhhh for now.”

The waiter brought the appetizer and the salad together and set them on the table along with a basket of warm bread. The restaurant was starting to get busy now and he hurried off to serve another table. Greg put the jewellery away and started to eat while Trish simply enjoyed the flavours and the warm feeling of being loved. It was a little after 7:00pm as they were lingering over coffee and cheesecake when Trish spoke up,

“Darling, I wish I could get you a gift.”

“Hey best girl, you’ve given me my life back and granted just about every wish that I could think of. You’re my genie, there’s nothing more you have to do for me. Your father blessed me when he sent you to me and I’ll never stop thanking the universe for that,” he returned.

“But I’ve never given anything just from me to you. I’m sorry…” she sounded sad.

“Don’t you ever think that, do you hear me Tricia?” he said comfortingly. “You gave me your greatest gift, you gave me your love. I can’t think of anything else that you ever need give to me.” He heard her sniffle and felt her tears stinging his eyes.

“I-I’ll never stop thanking creation for you Greg. I’m so happy to be with you now,” there was a catch in her voice.

“Yes Love, try to hold your tears back for now. We’ll get on the road in a few minutes and then you can cry happy, OK?” he smiled gently.

“Anything for you, Darling, but I may surprise you yet,” she said.

Trish thought silently for a while, I know that I can find a gift for him somehow, but I’ll have to do it before he can hear my thoughts. Every now and then, I feel a flash of regret from him. Maybe I can help him get over that and try to make sure that he’s as happy as he’s made me.

Greg finished their coffee and signalled for the cheque. He sighed gustily and accepted the folder from the waiter.

“I’ll pay by debit, if that’s OK, Scott,” he instructed.

“No problem, Doc. I have a wireless pad here.” Greg handed the waiter his card and taking the machine, entered his pin on the keypad. He took the receipt and made sure the 15 percent tip he had entered was on it. Everything looked all right, so he stood, shook Scott’s hand and put on his coat.

“Thank you for excellent service as always Scott. Please give my compliments to the kitchen crew, OK?” Greg was pleased.

“Sure thing Sir, it’s been a pleasure having you with us again. Hope to see you again soon,” the young man replied.

“I won’t wait another 6 months until next time. See you,” he said as he headed for the door. Greg left the restaurant and went
to his vehicle. He settled in and started the engine.

“OK Trish, we’re all alone now, you can let it out if you want.” There was a slight pause and Trish spoke quietly,

“Greg? Are you sad about anything? I don’t want you to be sad about anything… ever. You’d tell me if you were unhappy at all, wouldn’t you?” Trish coaxed him. He sighed as he pulled out onto the road and headed towards the mall at the north end of town. He was silent for about 10 kilometres before responding. He hit the steering wheel with his fist,

“Damn! I’ve been trying so hard to keep my only regret buried, so you wouldn’t be sad Trish. How much of it is leaking through?” he asked bitterly.

“I just get sort of a feeling now and then, and sometimes when you’re asleep,” she offered.

“I’ve been having dreams now and then,” he interjected.

“I know.”

“I… what?” he was stunned.

“I said ‘I know’. It doesn’t happen that often and then only when you’re really tired,” she continued.

“What doesn’t happen very often?” he pressed. She sighed,

“Greg do you remember the day you first learned to fly? You had fallen asleep quickly and while I was familiarizing myself with our nervous system, all of a sudden, I was standing in the yard in the sunlight. You were standing across from me… just looking at me. I had a physical body… I ran to you… you held me and kissed me. Then suddenly I was looking at myself through your eyes and…”

“…and you faded like smoke and drifted away,” he finished for her. “I’ve had that dream a few times now but I didn’t know you were there with me. I’m sorry…” his voice was choked and his tears started to flow.

“No Greg, never any sorrow, please,” Trish soothed. “I know that you want to hold me. I want you to hold me again, like you did that night when I was scared and angry. We are closer than any lovers in history, but the irony is that we can’t touch the way other lovers do. Somehow, we’ll overcome this, I know we will.” Her tears mingled with his and spilled over their cheeks. There were no more words. There was no need for words. They were together and they would find a way.

They skipped the movie and after a subdued shopping trip, they finished loading the truck and headed back to the landing. Every now and again, he would glance in the rear-view mirror and could imagine seeing her looking back at him. It made Greg smile faintly and feel good. Once or twice, they tried talking at the same time and would burst out laughing. They arrived at the landing shortly and pulled up to the snowmobile. Greg shut off the truck.

“What are you thinking about Greg?” she gently asked.

“You mostly, Dear Heart. I think I figured out why I could handle all of that attention today,” he smiled.

“Oh?” she queried.

“I knew I was never alone,” he paused, “even when you were tuned out earlier. It gave me a confidence I’ve never really known before.”

“I think I understand what you mean, Greg,” she concurred.

Maybe you do Trish,” Greg mused. “I don’t know. All that I do know is my self-doubts have disappeared. Just knowing that someone who truly understands me is always with me,” he shook his head. “Does that make any sense to you?”

“I think so, sort of. I was terrified when I left Daddy, I felt like I was being sent away from everything that I knew to a great unknown,” she ventured. “When I woke up the second time, after the bonding I mean, I knew I was safe and home for good. It’s very difficult to put into words, but I think you were close when you called me your Other. We are two halves of a whole. You complete me, I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. You’re my strength, you have wisdom I don’t have and now I see I need that wisdom more than ever,” she trailed off mistily.

“It sounds like you do understand. This is something I’ve been missing all of my life,” his eyes stung slightly. They sat in the truck for a moment or two longer, then Greg got out and opened the hatch. His eyes had adjusted automatically to the darkness and he could see as clearly as if it were day. He walked over to a lump of snow and pulled a tarp covered ski-trailer out. Hooking it up to the snowmobile, he loaded it up with the groceries they’d bought, closed and locked the truck and tied the tarp down over the trailer. They were lost in their own thoughts as they sped across the ice back to Regatta Bay.

They were almost back to the house when they heard a booming noise in the sky. Greg pulled to a stop and killed the engine and lights. The trees were thick overhead so he crept towards a natural clearing just a hundred or so metres forward of the snowmobile. For some reason something felt very wrong. When he got to the tree line, he saw there were several men and women in arctic camouflage walking through the trees and around the clearing. They were all heavily armed and clearly dangerous. He worked his way slowly and quietly back to the snowmobile, threw his parka and jacket over it and then covered everything up with snow. He did his best to disguise his tracks and then rose silently into the air. He sub-vocalized his intentions to Trish,

I think we’d better warm up all the systems here,” he murmured.

“I agree. Standby. Good work by the way,” she responded crisply. All of a sudden, Greg felt amazingly good all over. They’d never had everything on all at the same time, just one or two subsystems as he learned the controls. Trish spoke again,

“I’m going to blur our features, just in case, OK?”

“Copy that. I’ll focus on trying to get the communications traffic and tap any network traffic as well. We’ll stay up here for now,” Greg acknowledged. He concentrated and felt the radio waves around him. There was a moment of random gibberish and then he decoded the scrambling.

“…opy, unit seven, investigate the noise with extreme caution.”

“Roger, Base.”

“Unit ten reports the house is lit, but empty. Signs of recent inhabitancy, over.”

“All units, we have reports of the subject on the mainland as recently as one point five, I say again, 1.5 hours ago. Units one and two to investigate, over.”

Greg switched to the proximity radar on the heads-up display and saw several contacts approaching the snowmobile. He gently floated to the east of his position and deliberately dumped snow from a heavily laden pine branch. It slid to the ground with a muffled crash.

“Hey Morelli, did you hear that?” one of the figures asked.

“Yeah, it came from over there, c’mon,” the other responded. Once the group headed towards where Greg had dumped the snow, he took up a position over the snowmobile.

“Unit seven to Base, nothing here but snow and more snow.”

“Copy that unit seven, return to assigned patrol area, over.”

The targets on his radar receded, so Greg switched to the large area radar to size up the situation. His brain reeled. There were well over 40 distinct targets around his house and at least two helicopters on the ground in the two adjacent clearings. He heard the booming noise again and picked up two fast moving objects flying overhead. Trish kicked in the database and he had aircraft IDs on both the planes and the copters in seconds. He frowned.

“They have two Chinook class copters and two Lockheed F37 Jet Strike Fighters,” he noted.

“Special forces, then,” she replied.

“Great, heavily armed children. Suggestions?” Greg fumed.

“Standby…”

“Copy.”

“Lowering thermal profile to ambient temperature, beginning electronic countermeasures. Remove your clothes and stow them in that tree,” Trish ordered. Greg did as she instructed.

“Initiating stealth mode, camouflage on full,” she continued. “Full defensive measures online. I have deactivated vocal subroutines.”

“…?”

“Don’t worry, just push your thoughts. We may not be fully linked yet, but we’ll manage,” she said. He nodded and initiated forward motion at 10 kilometres per hour. His night vision was fully active as he sought out the command post. Hovering directly over it, he had an idea and pushed it through to Trish.

“You want a data tap?” she asked. “Yes?” Greg nodded. The data from the mobile base started flowing through him. There was nothing but negative reports, which puzzled him. Why hadn’t the house network been examined? Trish noticed his confusion.

“I took the liberty of camouflaging the house data with simple day to day routine data traffic, dummy plans and equations. No evidence of our activities or of my existence remains, except in our protected inboard storage.” The communications chatter started up again.

“All units, return to base, I say again return to base.” There was a flurry of acknowledgement from the teams.

“Units one and two are to return to rendezvous point Charlie for pick-up.”

“Unit one, copy.”

“Unit two, copy.”

“Sky sweep return to base.”

“Roger Command, RTB.”

Greg watched his radar as the jets peeled off and headed west towards Michigan, then turned his attention to the ground pounders. They were dragging what looked like pine boughs behind them and erasing their trails. To the untrained eye it would pass. The mobile command post was packed and loaded by the time the last unit converged on it. Then he heard a security squeal come through on the comms.

“Recon One, status report.”

“This is Recon One, over.”

“What’s your Sit. Rep.?”

“Negative on AERI, the flying man that was reported must have been one of the Sudbury sightings, over.”

“Affirmative. Command says RTB, I say again RTB.”

“Copy, ETA 35 minutes, out.”

When the last of the soldiers boarded the copter, it took off in a welter of snow. The second craft followed a moment later and wheeled to a westerly flight path. The first flew east towards Killbear. Trish and Greg waited 10 more minutes and then flew to where they had ditched their clothing and the disguised snowmobile. He landed and dressed silently. It started to snow gently so there would soon be no trace of their visitors. Trish reported to him,

“Vocal subroutines reactivated, all countermeasures deactivating. That was incredible Darling! You were just magnificent!” Trish gushed. Greg cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, we were magnificent! What a team! They had no idea we were even around, did they?” he cheered.

“Nope, as far as they knew, we were still in town,” she giggled. “You know Mr. Bond, I’d almost think you’d done this before. That notion to dump the decoy snow was inspired.”

“Shucks Ma’am, twern’t nothin’,” he tipped an imaginary hat. “I just didn’t want one of those thugs finding your ring. Let’s go home and have a cup of tea. I assume I’m freezing.” Greg got the machine uncovered and they drove back to the house.

To Be Continued

“You know Mr. Bond, I’d almost think you’d done this before. That notion to dump the decoy snow was inspired.”

"Shucks Ma’am, twern’t nothin’,” he tipped an imaginary hat. “I just didn’t want one of those thugs finding your ring. Let’s go home and have a cup of tea. I assume I’m freezing.” Greg got the machine uncovered and they drove back to the house.

After unloading and putting away the groceries, they sat down in front of the fire with a mug of tea. Trish had transformed their left hand and was wearing her ring while Greg had put his on the chain around their neck. He smiled,

“Happy beloved?”

“Ecstatic Greg,” she sighed. “This honestly was the best day I’ve ever had. I even had fun when we were playing hide and seek with those soldiers. When all our systems were running, I felt so alive!” she exclaimed.

“Me too, it was incredible. We were all but invisible to them and still had all the information that they did,” he frowned slightly and continued, “but I don’t like the fact that U.S. Special Forces were here and covertly at that. I’m sure the Canadian Forces didn’t know about this and I’m damned sure that The Government wasn’t informed. If a tip about our flying was called in, it means that someone saw us training. We’ll have to train with full systems on from here on in to prevent this from happening again,” he concluded.

“I agree totally, but let’s not think about that right now. We beat them at their own game,” she giggled. “We won this round and if we’re careful, they won’t be back. Relax and just think about the fun we had today,” she said, admiring the play of light in the diamond of her new ring. They sat in silence watching the fire and enjoying each other's company. Every now and again Trish would reach up and stroke Greg’s cheek with her hand, and for tonight anyway, all seemed right with the world.

Around 11:30, Greg stretched and stood up. He closed the doors of the fireplace and walked out of the living room. Trish reached over with her mind and turned out the lights as they passed by, connecting with the housekeeping computer. Once she’d made sure that the house would take care of itself, she smiled. After a shower, Greg went to bed and quickly fell asleep. Trish knew she had to try what she wanted to do tonight. The mood was perfect and she felt reasonably sure she could pull off her plan. Still, it was sometime about 1:30am when she finally sensed Greg going into REM sleep. She waited for his dream state to begin. Trish rapidly located the hotspot of his subconscious activity and directed a stream of data towards it.

She closed her eyes and relaxed and when she reopened them, she saw Greg sitting by the fire in the living room. She stood in the hall and quickly checked her appearance in the mirror. Perfect. She stepped into the room and heard Greg’s startled gasp.

“Trish?! This is wonderful! But I swear that I was somewhere else a second ago… at least I think I was,” he sounded puzzled.

“Hush, its OK Love,” she smiled. “I’m not going to vanish on you, not now or ever again. I’m here and I found a way for us to be together.”

“Is… is this a dream?” he gaped.

“Yes and no. It’s like a lucid dream. I control the dream state and all you have to do is relax, enjoy it and hold me,” she purred. Greg shot from the couch as if propelled. He ran across the room, swept Trish off her feet and spun her around, laughing all the time.

“Oh you sweet devious darling,” he laughed. “I don’t know how this is possible and I don’t want to know right now! I’ve wanted this for so long!” He kissed her with a passion that surprised him and caught her with her lips open. He picked her up and carried her over to the couch and fell into the soft cushions still holding her tightly, as if he was afraid she would vanish if he let go of her for even a moment.

Trish grabbed his face between her palms and returned his kiss with equal passion. This was everything she’d hoped for and more. She’d only ever imagined what the physical expression of love could feel like. Now, it flared within her like a raging inferno as Greg kissed her throat and nibbled her ears. He was gentle and caring but there was also an incredible sense of urgency that rolled off him like waves of heat. Trish clung to him like a drowning swimmer and felt his hands gently stroking her back, roaming down to caress the softness of her firm behind. They stood as she pulled away slightly and unbuttoned his shirt, running her hand down his chest and softly stroking his skin. Greg reached behind her and slowly unzipped her silky dress. They embraced again, kissing passionately and then she stepped back, slipped out of her dress and stood naked before him. Greg smiled in delight as his eyes roamed up and down her exquisite body.

“You’re even more beautiful then I could have imagined,” Greg proclaimed. “I’ve married a goddess!”

He stood, quickly removed the rest of his clothing, walking towards her. She held up her hand, gesturing for him to stop a moment. He stood there as she drank in the sight of him. Trish had seen Greg naked in the mirror but now, aroused as she was and seeing him through her own eyes, she viewed him in a completely different light.

“You’re a very beautiful man,” She growled low in her throat as she walked to him and stepped into his waiting arms.

They kissed again and delighted in the feel of each other’s naked flesh. They slowly sank to the carpet by the fireplace and explored each other hungrily. Although the strongly felt urgency was still there, they both understood there was no need to hurry.

After a time they made love.

Greg experience with lovers in the past gave him the finesse to create and intoxicating and memorable time for her. Trish, on the other hand, had access to information that he’d never heard of and managed to surprise him once or twice with some unusual techniques. They delighted in each other, loving and learning for hours. Sometime around 5:00am, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Greg woke up at 9:30am, very thirsty and needing to pee urgently. He finished in the washroom and drank two glasses of water. Returning to the bed, he heard a noise he had never heard before. A soft snore was echoing in his ears. Trish was asleep! He’d only encountered her asleep once before and that had been because she was emotionally exhausted. What did this mean? Could it have something to do with that amazingly intense dream? His train of thought suddenly pulled into the station. It had been real somehow… Trish had manifested in his dreams and made it real. He let her sleep and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her. This was the least he could do for the woman who had actually made his dreams come true. It was just past 10:30 when he felt her awaken.

“Good morning Sleepyhead, breakfast is ready and this time, you get to do the eating,” he greeted her.

“Mmrrrmmrr…” He felt her stretch and the muscles in his back relaxed, but there was still a pleasant ache in his lower back. One he hadn’t felt for several years.

“Good morning Lover,” she replied sleepily. “Wow, I guess I can finally call you that Greg. Did you have sweet dreams? I know I did.”

“Love,” Greg smiled happily, “that was the best dream I’ve ever had. I still don’t know how you did it, but there’s no way I’m gonna complain. You’re everything I ever imagined you could be and more. I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman in all of my life, waking or otherwise,” he affirmed playfully.

“Oh you,” Trish snorted, “flattery will get you nowhere, food on the other hand...”

She walked to the table where Greg had laid out a breakfast of Belgian waffles with whipped cream and strawberries, a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice. She cocked one of their eyebrows.

“You’re letting me take over this morning? Why?”

“Because I like to make breakfast for the women in my life and you are the woman in my life.” He pulled out the chair and sat. “Eat up, I made it for you. Enjoy.”

She nervously took control of their body and started to eat slowly and carefully, then with increasing confidence. She savoured every bite but was surprised to find that she enjoyed her coffee differently then he took his, using cream and much less sugar than Greg. Sated, she pushed herself away from the table, stood and carried her coffee into the living room. She paused on the threshold and looked at the room, smiled and walked over to the couch.

“Thank you, Beloved.”

“Hey, nothing’s too good for my girl,” he maintained. She looked at the fireplace and smiled dreamily. Greg spoke again,

“Trish? You’ve taught me so much in the last few months and though I know I still have a lot to learn, I was thinking that you should have a day every now and again to get used to being a physical person. Like with breakfast. You know there will be times when you’ll have to drive and now’s as good a time to get used to the flesh as any.”

“Oh?” she remarked casually, “and just what were you planning to do all day, Lazybones?”

“I’m gonna play passenger today, answer any questions you may have and think for a while,” Greg responded. “I have some ideas that I want to work out that may come in handy in the future.”

Trish thought this over for a moment,

“So, I’m in charge today? All the way in control?” she prodded.

“Uh-huh, I won’t interfere unless you ask for help,” Greg confirmed.

“OK then,” Trish continued, “there’s something I’ve wanted to try for some time. It’s an automatic program stored in our net that I’ve been dying to use.”

She closed her eyes and triggered the file marked ‘Alter Ego’. The warm feeling of the transformation flowed over them completely from head to toe and she stood still until the feeling passed. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt her way along the wall of the hallway to the bedroom. She knew precisely where the full-length mirror was and stood directly in front of it. Opening her eyes, she looked… directly at herself. The reflection was no longer Greg’s, but her own. Standing there in his boxers and t-shirt, she gazed critically at the image before her.

“Not bad,” she said, “if I do say so myself. We can’t do this one by ourselves yet, but the pre-program is strictly automatic.”

Greg was at a loss for words, everything he was feeling was alien to someone who had been born male.

“Nice to know I can leave you speechless,” she commented archly.

“I… I… wow… uh, hi there… is this… um… complete?” he stammered.

“Sure is, right down to the genes. This is our alternate default form. When we have to go undercover as a female we start here, just as we would start from your default form for male missions,” she smiled.

“Wow, well you sure are pretty… golly gee,” Greg crowed.

“Yeah, we sure are.” She raised an eyebrow, smiled, walked to the dresser and put on her ring. It fit perfectly. She slipped the necklace with his ring over her head and felt it nestle between her breasts. It was cold and made her shiver slightly. Satisfied, she dug through his clothing for a tracksuit they could wear and walked to the bathroom for a shower.

Stripping off the shorts and t-shirt, Trish surveyed herself in the mirror with an admiring eye. She had been both surprised and pleased that the Alter Ego programming had taken the mental composite image that she and Greg had built up and used it as a template for the transformative sequence. Now, looking more critically at herself, she noted that although very pretty, she wasn’t what would be considered stunning by society. She might turn a few heads, but would not draw undue attention, and that was just what they wanted. Trish now stood 170 centimetres tall and appeared to weigh 59 kilograms, fairly average height and weight she supposed. Her shoulder length ash blond hair was slightly curled and tickled their neck. Moving her eyes downward she noted her breasts were about a C cup and firm. Trish also marked the slender waist and the gentle swell of her hips. The well-toned legs of a serious jogger completed the overall package. Looking back to her face, she observed fine features that could be subtly enhanced with the careful application of cosmetics.

Smiling slightly, she stepped into the shower enclosure. After standing under the warm stream for a few minutes, she started scrubbing the way Greg always had. This produced a series of reactions that ranged from painful to merely uncomfortable.

“Maybe you shouldn’t scrub so hard Trish. A woman has more sensitive skin than a man,” Greg advised. Trish began to wash herself in a more gentle fashion. Greg was right and the experience immediately became more pleasurable. She rinsed off and exited the shower. Grabbing a towel, she dried herself more gently and actually began to enjoy the entire experience. Finally, wrapping a robe around herself, she vigorously towelled her hair until it was only slightly damp. Trish picked up the brush and started working it through her hair.

“OK, we get conditioner on our next shopping trip,” she griped, “OW!”

Greg grinned. He’d never dreamt they would’ve needed conditioner when they were shopping the day before.

“Speaking of shopping,” she continued, “I’m going to have to get a few items if I’m going to be a physical person, clothing, cosmetics, underwear…” she cupped a breast in one hand and squeezed gently for emphasis, “…definitely underwear.”

“I get the point,” he chuckled lasciviously.

“And,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll have to use the information I garnered from the bank network yesterday to set up some shopping money of my own,” Trish finished.

“You’ll need more than that, you’re going to need a full set of ID to function day to day. We can probably arrange most of that through the network interface that we have here,” Greg offered. “You go ahead and do it and I’ll look out for security traps, OK?”

Trish nodded as she finished brushing her hair and put on the tracksuit. The top was like a tent and the pants immediately fell to her ankles. She pulled them back up and tied them off tightly around her waist. Greg rolled his eyes.

“OK, and then definitely shopping,” she laughed.

They retired to Greg’s lab with another cup of coffee and sat down at the master workstation. Trish brushed it lightly and the entire network came back to life. Greg examined the data.

“OK, first hurdle, the greenies left a few network taps and monitoring programs. I’ve sent false data to them,” he added.

She nodded as they’d been expecting this. Trish got to work quickly, first accessing provincial records and creating a birth certificate showing a date of June 24th, 1979. She chose Timmins as her birthplace because she liked the name of the town. Then tapping into federal systems, she created a social insurance record for herself that listed several jobs from age eighteen on. A baptismal certificate from the Anglican Church of Canada was followed by a valid driver’s licence. Thus, armed with the basics, she ported into the Canadian Bank of Trade, invented a checking account with a balance of five thousand dollars, and backdated it 7 years. She continued by fabricating a credit history, which, while not spotless was clean and healthy. She then cracked two major credit card companies and created accounts in her name.

Greg watched for a few minutes until it became obvious Trish didn’t need him looking over her shoulder, so-to-speak. He went to work in different areas of the net and started his research on memory fabrics, durability factors, camouflage, and holography. He was still trying to collate his results when Trish announced that she’d completed her tasks.

“I placed a high priority on the documents and set up a post box in Parry Sound as the address,” she said. “They should arrive in a few days, that is, those that aren’t already being printed at town hall right now. What were you up to?” she wondered.

“Ah, just a little project I hope will make our life easier but could eventually also generate some income for us as well. I’ll keep you posted on my progress,” he replied.

“That’s cool Hon, I’m just going to get a couple of items through some online shopping and we can pick them up tomorrow, ‘K?”

Trish quickly lost herself in the simple excitement of all of the available choices while Greg returned his attention to ordering the materials he needed for his project. By that time Trish had finished and she stood up and stretched. It felt good and loosened up her slightly cramped back muscles. Greg unobstructed the spy tools in the system and logged everything off. Any unseen monitors would be informed that he had worked for several hours on a new high-energy windmill design. Trish looked over at the clock and was shocked to see they’d been working for nearly five hours.

“What happened? We can’t have been working that long!” she sounded alarmed.

“Whoa Trish, calm down! We mere humans tend to perceive time very differently then computers do, so when we get involved in something, time can fly. Conversely, time can seem to move very slowly when we are anticipating something, like the arrival of a loved one or an important piece of mail,” he cajoled. “It’s just another little lesson in humanity, 50-something in a series of zillions. Human senses can be confused easily, because humans tend to rely more heavily on their sense of sight rather than any of the others. That however, will be an advantage for us to exploit in the field. When people see something that they can’t believe, they will tend to ignore it. Douglas Adams called this the SEP effect or ‘Somebody Else’s Problem’.”

“Well, it’s comforting to know that we can fall back on the sensors then. Just one more advantage we have, and will probably need,” she said smugly. They walked to the kitchen and their stomach let out a growl. Trish nearly doubled over in shock, hugging her midsection.

“What the hell was that? Are we ill?”

“No, just hungry,” he chuckled, “We physical beings are slaves to our stomachs, even when we have efficient nanomech systems. Lesson number 51. Let’s grab a sandwich and another cup of coffee.”

“No arguments here,” she replied, still somewhat shaken.

After a light lunch, they stepped outside onto the porch and stood for a moment scanning the area. There were no cameras or active tracking devices evident so she powered up all defensive and camouflage systems, then rocketed into the sky. As Trish flew, she marvelled at the multitude of physical reactions generated by their body and finally understood why Greg had so thoroughly enjoyed their flight training. After this, any other form of flight would pale in comparison. She looped and headed north-northwest toward Sudbury to see the evidence of her siblings’ activities firsthand. Greg’s friend Don had reminded her of the incident in December. She flew in high over the great nickel slag heaps that were a weird and alien reminder of the industrial base of the city. NICO and Hawkspan had been in near continuous operation for nearly 100 years. That is, until last December when The SIX had challenged the companies to reduce pollutants from their operations. The corporations had just laughed and dismissed The SIX. Now Trish and Greg looked down on the ruins of two of the largest smokestacks in Canada. It looked like The SIX hadn’t taken no for an answer.

Trish could not believe what she saw. This was much too rash; this was wanton destruction, insanity. At least there’d been no causalities, The SIX had seen to evacuation before they began the carnage and destruction. Even after three months, she almost felt that she could detect the unique energy signatures of her brothers and sisters and somehow even their anguished emotional states. She hoped that by now the bonding with their hosts would be complete. The AIs should have led The SIX to be less aggressive, but the evidence that she now saw laid out before her, caused her to believe otherwise.

“Goddess, this is…” Greg was at a loss.

“Yes Greg, this is what the unrestrained power of an enhanced human is capable of. These corporations may not be damaging the environment anymore, but the damage to the local society is still being felt. These plants have not employed or paid anyone for months now,” she trailed off.

“Are you all right Dearheart?” he solicited.

“I-I can feel them Greg! I can almost feel my siblings’ anguish. The SIX acted so quickly that the AIs couldn’t have had any chance to intervene before the damage was done. There was no way you or I could have helped them, and we’d not even bonded when this occurred. Oh God! I’m so worried about them, but we have to keep out of sight. The army’s visit proved that to me,” she railed miserably.

“I hate to say this Trish, but this is the reason the army visited us.” He brought up a point he’d been reluctant to mention before, “Uh, Trish, from what you know about the first generation bonding process, the mental melding, would you even be able to recognize your siblings once their personalities merge with their hosts?” he posited.

Trish’s eyes widened in horror, then she sobbed violently and rocketed straight upwards. She didn’t stop climbing until the air started to get thin and the tears froze to her cheeks. She screamed out at the top of her lungs,

“Oh Daddy! Greg! I’m so afraid! I… don’t know what to do.” She hiccupped, sobbed and then passed out. Greg took over before they began free falling and gently guided his frightened love homeward.

To Be Continued

Trish’s eyes widened in horror, then she sobbed violently and rocketed straight upwards. She didn’t stop climbing until the air started to get thin and the tears froze to her cheeks. She screamed out at the top of her lungs,

“Oh Daddy! Greg! I’m so afraid! I… don’t know what to do.”

She hiccupped, sobbed and then passed out. Greg took over before they began free falling and gently guided his frightened love homeward.

When Greg got them home to the AERI, Trish was still in shock, so Greg remained in control, made a cup of chamomile tea and ran a hot bath. He had some difficulty manoeuvring in Trish’s body, but he had to get her past this shock. He was afraid she might withdraw or worse, do something foolish. He placed the cup by the steaming tub and lowered their body into the hot water. She started to awaken, so he relinquished control of their body to her and felt her heaving sobs.

“Come on Love,” he spoke softly. “Please, you need to breathe for both of our sakes. Please try to take deep breaths.”

“I’ll… I’ll… try,” she gasped.

Shortly, Trish got the sobbing under control and managed to drink some of the tea.

“Greg?”

“Yes Trish?”

“I’m sorry,” she began slowly. “I don’t know what came over me. I just felt so betrayed. Not by you, but by the others. The SIX were supposed to be the best humanity had to offer, and then they go and do this. I-it’s just so brutal. I don’t understand why they aren’t like you, or Daddy?”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s hard to comprehend, but you’ve studied history, you’ve see that the human race is a violent aggressive species,” Greg paused to gather his thoughts. “As I may have mentioned before, individually people are generally good, but the group dynamic changes all of that. It makes it easy to revert to the mob mentality of which we’ve spoken. I’m sure that the other suit recipients are good people. They may have just been frustrated by situations that up until recently they couldn’t change or affect for the better. Now all of a sudden they have the power to affect the course of events and have gone overboard with it.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sure that by now, your siblings have fully bonded with their hosts and are having a restraining influence on them. One thing you’ll learn about life is there’s always hope.”

Trish wiped their eyes and managed a weak smile,

“Really?”

“Really and truly Trish. Take Franklin Island here, for example. Did you know that during the 1990’s, the Provincial Government wanted to open the old growth timber here for commercial purposes? It took me some wrangling, a whole lot of money and a lawsuit just to get conservatorship of this island. But it’s a good example of one person making a difference. I certainly didn’t endear myself to the ruling party of the time, but I couldn’t stand by and let these forests be raped,” Greg smiled as he recalled the thrill of the fight, “although I was the darling of the environmental crowd for a while.”

“I’d expect nothing less of you Greg,” Trish smiled back. “You were a hero before we ever met.”

He blushed, slightly flustered by her praise.

“Um… I guess, but my point is, that lately people all over the world are feeling powerless at the hands of corporate and governmental interests and they are desperately trying to wrest back control of their lives and the planet. Sometimes it may seem futile, but sometimes it works too. What The SIX did was stupid and extreme, but it honestly may have seemed to be the only option left to them.”

“I guess so,” she allowed, “but they really didn’t think it through, did they?”

“That’s because most people act first and regret later,” Greg grimaced. “I remember a comic book I read in the `80’s called ‘Damage Control’. It was about a company that cleaned up after superhero battles. It was a fascinating concept, because nobody tends to think about the aftermath of his or her actions. Consequences are rarely considered in the heat of emotion. All I can tell you is that the history of man is based on emotional responses, and logic rarely enters the fray,” Greg gave his head a small shake.

“Do you think that the corporations are evil, then?” Trish asked suddenly. “What about the governments? Were The SIX right to attack?”

“Well Trish,” Greg had to think about his responses carefully, “I used to believe that there was a cabal that controlled everything from behind the curtains… an Illuminati or a Skull and Bones. But no one has ever proven the existence of the Illuminati and I believe Skull and Bones is just another rich man’s club. What I really think drives most of the governments and corporations is the pursuit of profit. They’re like the Ferengi from Star Trek, obsessed with the bottom line to the exclusion of all else.”

“I think I see,” she nodded slowly. “You’ve certainly given me much to think about.” Trish got out of the bath and drained it. Drying off, she headed to the bedroom and lay down on the bed. She was asleep in moments and Greg slipped into a deep sleep shortly thereafter.

When Greg awoke, they were still in Trish’s form. It was an odd awakening, but when had anything in his life been ordinary in the last seven months? Trish was already sitting at the network interface and was gobbling down data like there was no tomorrow. Out of the corner of their eye he noticed a cup of coffee on the warmer and reached over for it.

Aaah, he thought, that’s better. Even with their enhanced systems, Greg still had trouble functioning properly in the morning without caffeine.

“Morning Trish, what’re you working on?” he greeted her.

“Good morning back, good coffee?” she rejoined. “I’ve been trying to integrate the information you gave me yesterday and it’s irritating the hell out of me,” she grumped. “There’s no logical power flow between the corporations and the governments. In fact, they both jealously guard their territories like animals. It does seem like there is another functioning power structure on Earth, but it’s nebulous. Like a ghost in the machine.”

“And what have you got against machine ghosts, Spooky?” Greg joked weakly.

“Ha… ha… ha,” she said sarcastically. “Anyway, you were very right about these Illuminati or whatever you want to call them. There’s lots of information about them available, but most of it is spurious and apocryphal, a good deal of it is labelled the ravings of ‘conspiracy theorists’. Once you start to sort through the data with recursive algorithms though, a startling pattern emerges. There are a small group of numbered companies around the world who seem to have acquired controlling interests in most of the Fortune 1000 Corporations,” Trish scowled.

“OK, I’ll admit that’s curious,” Greg allowed, “but does it necessarily mean the Illuminati? I understand the concept of Occam’s Razor, you know, the simplest hypothesis and all, but we can’t always just jump to the easiest answers, not with as important a discovery as this is,” Greg posited.

“Well, I suppose that some of the activity could be legitimate, the functioning of normal corporate traffic and finances. However, the pattern shows about a 90 percent controlling split between 20 companies or individuals,” she trailed off.

Greg gave a low, thoughtful whistle,

“Trish, we’re really gonna have to tread carefully here,” he cautioned. “We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with before we can make any moves against these,” he made quotation gestures in the air, “‘Illuminati’. If they really exist, they didn’t get all of that power by asking for it nicely. We are really gonna have to keep a low profile from now on. These people could be the ones behind our little visit the other night, and if that’s true, they can order the US military around like security guards,” Greg warned ominously.

“Oh Greg,” she said, “do you think that they could be behind the explosion in Switzerland? The one that… that…” Greg felt Trish’s sorrow and rage rising again and did his best to calm her. He felt a strange buzzing in his head and suddenly found himself looking at a visual representation of their limbic centre. It was awash with frantic activity. He tried reaching out with his thoughts and soothing it. It seemed to work as slowly he felt her rage cooling to an icy logic. He was astounded with the newfound control they were gaining over their neural activity.

“If it was them,” she said coldly, “and Father is really dead, they’ll pay. They’ll all pay very dearly.”

"That’s right Trish,” he said calmingly, “we’ll make them pay for the loss and pain they’ve caused you and your siblings’, but right now I need your help. I need to know how far along the integration of our mind is. I just discovered that I can control portions of our brain.”

Trish activated the nanomechs’ system monitor and Greg was startled to see it appear in front of their eyes. Distracted, Trish quickly resumed her analytical commentary,

“It seems that the bugs have been busy since we started using full systems. The monitor shows an integration of nearly…”

“75 percent,” Greg interrupted. “Yes, I can see it.”

“Greg! This is fantastic! It seems that communications, language and judgement are all that’s left to do,” Trish said excitedly.” That’s the frontal lobes, so there are still several billion connections to duplicate, but at this rate, the integration should be finished by month’s end. We’ll be whole, finally!” the joy was evident in her voice.

“Well then, it looks like I have to wait until April to give you a piece of my mind,” he quipped. Trish actually laughed aloud at that, and Greg was elated to hear it.

“It seems that you’ve already given me most of it and it’s so pristine and unused and… dusty,” she giggled. “Seriously though, you should be able to see the file structure by now. I don’t know if you can command it, as you don’t seem to be in the root directory yet. We should start to review Father’s mission profile and operations files as soon as possible,” she paused and frowned. “This won’t be easy, but I’m in the process of prepping some of the lesser used areas of the organosynth tissues for a memory dump. That way we will have more raw data collection storage in the secondary neural net for genetic material and such. Here goes.”

Greg felt the buzzing dizziness again momentarily and suddenly remembered things he’d never even heard of before.

“Oh, this is so exciting,” Trish chattered. “There’s so much more processing power here than there was in the net or even in Father’s systems. I’ve moved most of my neural processes into our brain now and I’ll organize a file system later tonight.”

Greg blinked and sneezed violently. It was overwhelming, he had more thoughts and ideas in just a few milliseconds that normally would have taken him a year or more to develop properly, before today. He felt a rising tide of blackness take him as his consciousness receded.

He came back to a state of awareness five minutes later and none too soon, as Trish was near panic. He rubbed the back of his head and groaned.

“Goddess, that was intense! Would you please warn a guy next time you decide to dump an exabyte of information on him?” he grinned weakly.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry Dearest,” she sounded genuinely contrite. “I should have trickled it in. Um, that was closer to a zettabyte.”

“A zettabyte… that’s 10 to the power of 21, isn’t it?” Greg froze. “Uh, how did I know that?”

“Yes Greg, the zettabyte is 10 to the 21st and it seems the capacity of our merged brains will balance out around 4 yottabytes, or 4 by 10 to the power of 24.”

“Goddess, it must look like the July 1st up there. How’re the heat levels?” he asked worriedly.

“Well within expected tolerances with the cooling systems that are in place now. We’re superconducting at 37˚C, a new world record, I might add,” she sounded smug now.

Trish,” he groaned, “you’ll have to forgive me, but I’m having a really hard time with this. I thought I knew what to expect, but this,” he gestured wildly with their hands, “this is beyond my wildest dreams. Kiddo, I’m gonna need a hell of a lot of help with this one.”

“I’m here my True Other,” now it was Trish’s turn to be soothing. “I always will be, believe me. Greg, can you explain something to me?” she changed the subject suddenly.

If I can…” he sounded slightly unsure.

“Twice now you’ve used the term ‘goddess’ in the last five minutes, and several times since we’ve met, why is that?” she wondered.

“You know something?” he blinked. “I’m really not sure. I guess it’s a holdover from one of my siblings, she was neo-pagan and I guess it kind of rubbed off. I have always considered the Earth mother a more suitable deity then a masculine godhead. Much more creative.”

“Well, that makes sense to me and it’s a much gentler pejorative and it suits your personality, my gentle man,” she smiled.

They stood up carefully while Trish cleared the network and restored the spyware.

“Well, we should change,” Greg suggested. Trish closed their eyes and triggered Alter Ego and Greg heard the drawstring in their track pants snap as he suddenly found himself standing in his own form again. Trish had a very different definition of changing, it would seem.

By early afternoon, they had worked out a tentative plan of action. After Greg had showered and shaved, he retrieved the two phone messages that had been left for him. The first was from the FedEx office in town informing him of a large delivery for pick-up, the second was from the post office in the city hall. There were a number of official documents ready for pick-up. Because they were registered, a signature would be required. That was fine and dandy, seeing how Trish had also set up a post office box for her own deliveries, a parcel run was necessary. Grabbing a quick sandwich, they headed out the door.

An hour later, they pulled up beside Greg’s Rover and drove into town, heading towards the FedEx depot. Pulling into the freshly ploughed lot, Greg backed the truck up to the loading dock and went inside.

“Afternoon, I got a phone message about some parcels. My name’s Greg Howard.” The clerk at the desk looked up the information on the computer as Greg casually rested his hand on the terminal. Trish smiled mentally and accessed the network, FedEx was a big tap to have. She made a note to compliment him on his quick thinking later.

“Oh yes,” the clerk glanced up. “There it is Mr. Howard, 20 large boxes, 8 small ones and 2 mailers. It’s all C.O.D. and comes to $1858.49. How will you be paying?”

Greg winced inwardly.

“Debit, please.” He handed over his card and accepted the pad from the young woman. With the transaction completed, he signed the necessary forms, went to his truck and opened the back. He thought about the amount of parcels and folded the rear seats down as well as the passenger seat. The crew from the dock loaded the truck quickly and Greg was soon on his way downtown. Pulling up in front of Town Hall, he fed the meter and went to the postal station on the main floor. There were several Priority Post envelopes waiting and a medium sized box. He signed for the registered letters and turned to leave. The postmistress called after him,

“Oh, wait please Mr. Howard. There’s an envelope addressed care of you for a Miss Tricia Saber and there are two messages from upstairs. One is asking you to go up to the Documents office and one is from the Mayor’s office asking if you’d care to stop by before you leave.”

“Thank you very much, Ms. …” he smiled and waited.

“Just Carol is fine Sir…” she smiled back.

“Oh, well thank you, ‘Just Carol’,” he grinned and made a half-bow. She smiled and winked as he headed across the lobby to the elevators. Greg got off at the third floor and asked the guard for directions to the Documents office. The guard pointed the way and Greg politely shook his hand. Another person with access, filed away for later use. At the office, they waited their turn in line and approached the clerk.

"Good afternoon, Carol in the post office gave me a message to come up here. My name’s Howard.”

“Of course, Mr. Howard. One moment please,” the clerk fished out a manila envelope and a receipt form. “Sign here and here. That will be $125.00. Cash or debit?”

“Debit please,” Greg winced again and heard Trish giggle. He handed over his card and punched his information into the pad.

tting… spensive… oor… rling

“Are you alright Mr. Howard?” the clerk asked. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

“Um,” Greg cleared his throat, “yes, I’m fine… uh, do you have my patent documents in yet?”

“I’ll check that for you Sir, one moment,” she bustled off and Greg quickly sub vocalised to Trish,

“Did you just say something?”

“No, why?” she responded.

“I thought I heard you say something,” he sounded puzzled, “but not with my ears. It was like ‘poor darling getting expensive’.”

“But I didn’t say that out loud!” she exclaimed. “I was just thinking about how the last three days were very expensive for you. Wait a minute, you heard that?”

“Sort of,” he said slowly, “it was, I don’t know, all choppy and faint. But it was inside my head!”

“Oh wow! Wait, what am I thinking now?” Trish was excited.

“Didn’t get anything that time,” he said. “Whoops, here she comes.” Greg composed himself and smiled.

“Nothing yet, Mr. Howard,” the clerk said apologetically. “If you’ll leave your phone number, we’ll call as soon as they come in. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, just a little hungry, I guess,” Greg said by way of explanation. “Thanks for your concern.” He extended his hand and filed another pattern. Going back to the floor guard, he asked directions to the Mayor’s office. He was politely directed to the fifth floor and told to see the receptionist. They took the elevator to the Executive floor.

reg… ca… ou… hea… me?

“A little,” he admitted. “I think you said ‘can you hear me’. Please Trish don’t strain yourself, just let the bugs do their work and whisper in my ear for now. And please, don’t try to make me laugh. I’ve heard that our Madam Mayor has a limited sense of humour,” he admonished her.

“OK, Spoilsport,” she chuckled, “this is exciting and we have to be all proper. Pooh!” Greg smiled at her show of petulance and asked the receptionist to announce him to the Mayor.

He was shown in promptly as the woman behind the desk rose and extended her hand. Her Honour, Mayor Sophie Wallace was a career politician who knew how the world worked and had laboured hard to get to the position she currently occupied. She also knew an opportunity when she saw one and Doctor Greg Howard was one she could scarcely pass up, especially since she was planning to run for parliament in the next Federal election. Greg shook her hand as she examined the man who was working to make the world energy efficient. He wasn’t unpleasant looking, but not exactly her type either. There was just something slightly unfocused about him that she could not pin down. Just another run of the mill scientist, she concluded.

“Welcome Dr. Howard, thank you for visiting, a drink, coffee?” she greeted him warmly.

“Thank you Madame Mayor, bourbon if you have it, coffee if not,” he replied. The drinks were poured and they were seated comfortably. Greg took a sip.

“I must say that this is excellent bourbon, Your Honour. To what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?” The Mayor smiled sincerely.

“Just Sophie, please Doctor. I simply wanted to meet an actual hero, that’s all.” Greg stiffened again and Trish laughed and whispered,

“Not a HERO, a hero, Silly.” Greg composed himself and smiled back.

“Well, I really don’t consider myself a hero, Sophie,” he smiled as sincerely insincere as the politician had. “I just wanted to give back to the planet. That’s what AERI is all about. As a matter of fact, I’d been meaning to make an appointment with you soon.”

“Really?” Mayor Wallace asked.

“Really?” Trish echoed.

“Yes, I have a new design for wind generators and I’d like to work with the town to set up several and supplement the Parry Sound electricity grid. No cost to you, the Province budgets AERI for these experiments. But you would still have to handle the bid process,” Greg smiled winningly. The Mayor immediately became the picture of a career politician,

“That sounds fascinating Greg, can I call you Greg? If you could send the details to my office, we’ll start the ball rolling right away. We can discuss it in council and try to get the project underway as soon as possible.” the line between charm and smarm blurred as Sophie tried to remain outwardly calm, even as her inner excitement grew.

My God! Green power and Greg Howard, a political one-two punch, she thought. Greg was fascinated by the ambition he could almost feel washing off the woman like a tide.

“I’ll be sure to mail the proposal next week Madame Mayor, uh, Sophie,” Greg corrected himself. The two chatted pleasantly about nothing for a half hour longer and then Greg made motions to excuse himself.

“Well Sophie,” he said, glancing at his wrist, “I must be going. I have a truckload of materials for some experiments I’m running at home. Thank you again for your hospitality. We’ll do it again sometime soon.” He stood to leave.

“Certainly Greg,” she responded. “Oh and by the way, I’m having a small get together next week, you don’t suppose that you could attend?”

“I’d be delighted, of course Sophie,” Greg cringed inwardly.

“Excellent! I’ll have my aides send you an invitation and email you with the details. Thank you so much for dropping by. Oh, and please bring the wonder truck with you, I’m sure the other guests would love to see it. Till next week then,” Sophie smiled again holding out her right hand. Greg shook the woman’s hand again and left the office. Sophie couldn’t believe her luck at all, if this didn’t impress the nomination committee, nothing else would. She smiled and turned her attention back to her work.

On his way back down to the lobby, Greg opened the envelope addressed to Trish. As they had expected, it was the key to her post box. Greg retrieved the contents, left the building, and emerged from the dimness of the building, blinking into the winter sunlight. His eyes adjusted and he noticed Don arguing with his young partner.

“…and I say he’s illegally parked, Sergeant. The meter’s expired,” Constable Page complained.

“And I say you don’t go around ticketing VIPs. Simple as that,” Sergeant Gauld countered.

“Hey Don, what’s up?” Greg greeted his friend.

“Oh, hey Greg,” Don smiled. “The rookie here wants to give you a parking ticket and I’ve been trying to explain the politics and niceties of the situation to him.”

“What politics, Don?” Greg asked innocently.

“Well, seeing as you’re rapidly becoming some sort of a low level VIP around here now, I didn’t want to piss you off,” Don responded wryly.

“Oh bullshit, give me a break Don,” Greg snorted. “You give me tickets for the fun of it and you’ve known me too long to even consider that I’m the type to take advantage of the system.” Don rolled his eyes and sniggered. Greg turned to the younger officer and addressed him,

“OK, um, sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Constable Edward Page, Sir,” the young man stiffened his spine. “Sorry, but I was just trying to do my job.”

“I understand completely Officer Page,” Greg smiled. “Don’t apologize for doing what you’re supposed to do. Write the ticket, the meter’s expired and I’m obviously parked illegally. I’m in the wrong here and I’ll pay without a whimper,” he glanced sidelong at Don and winked, “or not too large a whimper anyways.” He smiled and extended his hand and then mugged at Don who was shaking his head and laughing. Ed Page shook Greg’s hand, giving him the ticket while grinning smugly at his superior.

“Thanks Officer, I’ll pay this at the bank today, OK? Great. You see Don, I’m still just the geek you’ve always known, though I never thought I’d thank someone for a parking ticket. Well, gotta go, stuff on the backburner at home. I’d tell you all about it…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Don finished, “but then you’d have to kill me. Sure. See you later Geek. C’mon Kid.” Don got into the cruiser still shaking his head and chuckling. Ed waved to Greg and got in as well. Finally, Trish spoke up,

“Greg, what was with that woman? And how come Don was going to bend the law for you?”

“This, my Dear,” Greg said, “is the wonderful world of politics, low level politics to be sure, but politics nonetheless. The Mayor wants to make use of my fame to gain political influence. Did you see her eyes light up when I told her about the wind generator scheme?” Greg prodded and Trish chuckled,

“I thought she was going to kiss you.”

“Well, either kiss me or kiss my ass,” Greg laughed explosively. “She’s gonna make use of that influence to move up the power structure somehow, if I’m any judge of character. Obviously, that’s why we’ve been invited to that party. Five years ago, I was a nobody in this town. See what being mildly famous will do for you? Gold-plated invitations to all of the A-list events… in Parry Sound,” he remarked snidely. “As for Don, well, he knows that sometimes VIPs can cause trouble simply with their connections. He just wasn’t sure how to handle me, as a friend or as a celebrity. So I let him and Ed know that I’m just a ‘law-abiding citizen’, not a wank who wants privileges. More fodder for our cover story, you know, Mr. Nice Guy, just like Clark Kent.”

“Well Clark, that party will be a great chance to get some more patterns on file,” she razzed him.

“And they’ll all be medium to high level people of power. I thought so too, Lois, that’s why I accepted,” Greg yawned. “I have a question for you, Trish. Do you think we could lift and fly this truck from the landing to the house and back? I forgot the ski trailer and I doubt that all of this stuff would fit into it anyways.”

“Well,” she considered, “I don’t see any problem lifting and flying, the real problem would be if anyone saw us. I have doubts that our stealth field would extend far enough to camouflage it. We’ll just have to be cautious and fly low.” Greg nodded and got into the truck. After paying the ticket, he made one more stop and bought a used suitcase at the Value Village.

“What’s that for Greg?” Trish asked.

“I had an idea. You’re going to be arriving in town by train on Friday. Let me explain…”

They got back to the landing just as the sun was setting. Greg made sure that no ice fishermen or snowmobilers were around. They got a good grip on the frame of the truck and lifted the front end almost as easily as lifting a dumbbell. There was a feeling of resistance, but that was about it. They worked themselves under the centre of the frame and easily balanced the truck. They lifted off, positioned themselves horizontally, and lowered until they were 3 feet off the ground. They flew low and anyone who might have seen the truck from a distance would have thought it was driving on the ice surface. They were home in 10 minutes and had the packages unloaded in another 10. next, Greg loaded the trailer onto the truck and they flew it back. Carefully positioning the truck in its own tracks, Greg set it down and unloaded the trailer. He locked up and placed the trailer in its regular spot. Finally, jumping onto the snowmobile, he headed back to the house. He had been tempted to fly, but Trish pointed out that a snowmobile should have a rider or it would look very suspicious. Eventually they were home and Greg took a hot shower. He had discovered he could adjust his systems so he would feel the heat and enjoy the shower more. Trish approved of the warm water and sighed with sheer pleasure.

The following morning, they attacked the parcels in the main room of the house. Greg took all of the materials he’d ordered to the workroom and then let Trish take over. When she had finished ‘changing’, she took her purchases, including the battered suitcase to the bedroom and opened each box with relish.

To Be Continued

The following morning, they attacked the parcels in the main room of the house. Greg took all of the materials he’d ordered to the workroom and then let Trish take over. When she had finished ‘changing’, she took her purchases, including the battered suitcase to the bedroom and opened each box with relish.

Maniacal glee was the best description of Trish as she opened her new acquisitions. She’d stripped naked and then tore into the wrappings like a kid on Christmas morning. Greg had to smile as she tried on all of the underwear and struck poses in front of the mirror.

“Well, I think I know Victoria’s Secret…” Greg said.

“And what’s that Darling?” she responded warily.

“She’s a world class narcissist.” Trish stuck her tongue out at him, put all of the underwear, except what she was wearing away and started in on the dresses. Soon, they were all hanging neatly in the closet with the blouses and skirts. Trish had tried on all of the pants and shorts before settling on jeans and a yellow t-shirt. Half an hour later the fashion show was nearing completion as only a dazzling array of shoes and boots remained to be tried on. Trish put them away a pair at a time, keeping the black cowboy boots on. Finally, she opened the last of the boxes which held an assortment of cosmetics and toiletry items. Greg spotted the tampons and shuddered.

“Get used to it Buddy, it’s not just for camouflage. If we stay in female form for longer than a month, we’ll need them,” Trish pointed out factually.

“Phew! I guess I knew that intellectually, but it’s just sunk in emotionally. Wow.” The entire situation was just too surreal for Greg. Trish put away the toiletries and placed soaps, shampoos and conditioners in the shower rack. Hair care items took up a drawer and her deodorant was stowed beside Greg’s in the medicine cabinet. Finally, Trish looked at herself in the mirror and began to apply a light assortment of the makeup she had purchased. She gave herself one last glance in the mirror and walked away satisfied.

“Just like a big Barbie doll,” Greg muttered. Trish gave herself a flick on the ear hard enough to sting and Greg quickly apologized. They walked to the kitchen with the boxes and wrappings and fed them into the shredder for recycling. Grabbing a coffee They sat down at the kitchen table to open the documents. Trish was ecstatic at how perfect each minor forgery had turned out. She now owned birth and baptismal certificates, a social insurance card and two bankbooks. The credit cards were available for pick up at the bank and a driver’s licence would be issued in town after she ‘arrived’ on Friday.

“Hey Honey, I’m human!” she squealed.

“Silly rabbit, I’ve always known that. Never doubted it either, not after the real emotions you showed, even before we bonded. Well, enough lazing about, I should get to work. Should we change?” he smiled.

“Nope, turnabout is fair play. You have to learn how to handle a female form as a backup for me, just in case I’m rendered incapable of control,” she was smirking.

“Wait a minute!” Greg protested. “You’ve never really run the male body.”

“Quit trying to confuse the issue with facts, Bubba,” she teased. Greg felt Trish surrender control and he picked up the reigns before they collapsed on the table. He stood up and felt bottom heavy for a moment. They walked to the workroom with Trish giving little suggestions on how to be more girly.

Greg sighed as he opened the packages he had ordered and reached for his magnifiers. His eyes gave a slight twitch and he saw that his binocular vision could be used for magnifying. Working carefully, he constructed a segment of cloth in about seven hours. It was made up of a fine circuitry weave he had copied from the one he’d originally seen in the suit and layers of tough but pliable memory nanofabric.

“What’s that, Greg?” she asked.

“Hopefully the answer to a problem that’s been nagging at me since we wrecked all those clothes,” he responded absently. “Remember when I was learning our abilities and I made that quip about naked superheroes?”

“Oh yeah!” Trish recalled. “It was amusing but what does that have to do with this?”

“We’ll soon see, that is, depending on whether the bugs can temporarily wire this into our net. If it works, this will take care of clothing camouflage on missions. I originally had the idea when you were shopping online, and the brain boost allowed me to jump from theory to practice… I hope.”

Greg wrapped the cloth around his forearm and felt tiny tugs as the nanomechs, under Trish’s direction, connected it to their network. He concentrated for a moment, picked up a razor knife and attempted to cut the cloth. No cut or mark appeared as the blade skittered across the fabric. He flexed his arm and the material responded like spandex. He smiled,

“Well, that worked. Now for stage two. Are you recording all this Trish?”

“Everything,” she confirmed.

Greg concentrated and the material shifted to look like the lower sleeve of a men’s dress shirt in pale blue. He thought again and it looked like the sleeve a tuxedo jacket. Once more and it looked like their bare arm.

“Greg! That’s astounding! What is it?” Trish goggled.

“The ultimate in fashion and camouflage clothing for 2009,” he responded sounding like a TV pitchman. “The memory fabric can shift to imitate any clothing pattern that can be thought of and…”

He picked up a large pointed probe and jammed it into his forearm with as much force as he could muster. The probe bounced off and its tip was blunted,

“…thanks to the magic of nanofabric, it can be 20 times tougher then Kevlar, taking on the properties of any cloth. Voila, no more destroyed clothing! Now how much would you pay? Don’t answer yet, operators are standing by,”

Trish felt tears of laughter rolling from their eyes as Greg finally settled down and explained more seriously,

“I would never have been able to create this two days ago. It was just a vague concept I’d had, but it seems I have access to a lot more information now. Not that I’m even entirely sure how it works. I based the circuitry weave in part on your fathers work. It’s nowhere near as sophisticated though,” he noted blandly.

“Gregory Howard, don’t you ever depreciate your work!” Trish snapped. “This is easily as innovative as anything my father ever came up with. I’ll not have you putting down your genius, not now, not ever!” Trish was really pissed off and building up a head of steam. He could feel her anger as she continued,

“Your design is something that has never been invented before, probably never even conceived of. And because every creative mind is different, my father may not even have been able to visualize this, and remember he had eight of the most advanced AIs to work with.” Greg had the good sense to look chagrined. He took a deep breath.

“Thank you Trish. I did deserve that. My low self-esteem has held me back for as long as I can remember. You keep at me and if I ever discover a character flaw in your perfection, I’ll help you with it,” he ribbed gently.

“You’re very welcome Darling,” Trish was mollified. “Now, tell me more about this cloth please, I find it fascinating.”

Greg spent the next half hour detailing how the cloth worked and the theory behind it. Trish caught on quickly and paid rapt attention to him.

“The major problem Trish,” he finished, “is that it will only work when wired into a high powered computer system. For example, someone like us. It’s useless for anyone else.”

“Well, maybe we should keep it that way for the time being,” Trish posited. “If we’re going up against these ‘Illuminati’, we don’t need them having access to advanced body armour,” she surmised.

“You’re right I suppose, but I wish I could share this with the law enforcement community. What a vest this would make, light as cloth, with really high stopping power.”
“Maybe someday, Greg,” she said, “maybe someday you can.” They put aside the work and went to the kitchen to make dinner. Greg remained in Trish’s form as they cleaned the dishes and went outside to look at the sky.

Just before dawn the next day, Trish packed the old suitcase, loaded her wallet with her new ID and got dressed. She chose a knee length skirt with a matching jacket, white blouse, blue tights and medium heel boots. She put on the necklace Greg had given her and walked to the door. Putting down the suitcase, she put on a navy pea coat and a pair of earmuffs. She looked at herself and grumped.

“Are all of these clothes really necessary?” she whined.

“They are if you want us to blend in, it’s still winter out there,” Greg instructed. “Now remember, we fly to Timmins, land just outside town and walk to the train station. At the counter will be a prepaid ticket in your name. We ride the train to Parry Sound, you take a cab to the Canadian Bank of Trade and give your ID and passbooks to the teller. We’ll continue from there. You better get a book or magazine to read on the trip as well,” He advised her.

Trish went to the bookshelves, selected a well-read paperback from Greg’s collection and put it in her purse. She stepped out into the yard and powered up. Rocketing north-northeast to arrive in Timmins just after 7:00am, she scanned her chosen landing zone for activity, human or electronic. The stretch of the highway was deserted and dark this early in the morning. The birds were just starting to rouse and the sun had just started to brighten the horizon to the east. Satisfied that it was deserted, she landed and powered down everything but defensive systems. Logically she knew she was safe but still she felt nervous.

Trish walked into the railway station at 7:30 and stepped up to the ticket counter.

“Hi, good morning, I’m here to pick up a prepaid one way ticket to Parry Sound.”

“Certainly Miss, may I have your name please?” the clerk inquired.

“Tricia Saber,” she replied. The clerk looked at his computer terminal for a moment.

“OK, Tricia Saber, ah here it is. May I see your ID please?” Trish handed over her birth certificate and S.I.N. card displaying more confidence than she felt.

“Courage, Dearheart,” Greg comforted. The clerk scanned the cards, printed the ticket and handed everything back over the counter to Trish.

“There you are,” the man smiled, “track 3 at 8:00. There’s a coffee shop across the street if you want a snack. Thank you for travelling Ontario Northland,” the clerk intoned mechanically.

“Thank you very much.” Trish left the counter clutching the ticket and headed across the street to the Tim Horton’s to have a ‘snack’. She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“You did wonderfully, Darling. I’m proud of you,” Greg cheered.

They boarded the train just before 8:00 and found a window seat. Trish discovered her nervousness being replaced by excitement. No one was paying her any attention at all, except for one man who glanced at her with interest.

“Greg! This is fun,” she whispered. “I never knew how much interesting stuff went on in the world. Nobody seems to care about who I am either. Why do you suppose that is?” she asked innocently.

“It’s like I told you before Sweetie, if you don’t do anything out of the ordinary, no one will pay more than a cursory interest in you. They all have their own thoughts and worries. But did you see that guy giving you the eye?” he chuckled.

“Yes,” she said, “I did, what was that about, should I be on alert?”

“No, no Darling. He was just checking out a pretty woman,” Greg clucked. Trish felt a slight blush warm her cheeks and glanced over at the man who had looked at her. He was deep in conversation with his seatmates and wasn’t even looking anymore.

“Humph!” she grumbled indignantly. Greg chortled,

“They’re just guys, Sweetheart. It’s what they do,” he reassured her.

The trip was uneventful and Trish started to get restless. Greg noticed this,

“Read your book if you’re bored.” She started reading and quickly got lost in the grand stories of Arrakis and the fremen leader Paul Atreides. Before she knew it, they were announcing Parry Sound. She reluctantly put the book away and gathered her belongings. Leaving the station, she hailed a cab and directed the driver to take her to the bank. At the branch, she waited in line until a teller was free and then approached the counter.

“Good morning, I’ve just moved to town and my accounts should have been transferred here,” Trish smiled at the teller. She handed over her birth certificate and S.I.N. card as well as her bankbooks.

“Certainly Miss, one moment please,” the young man replied. Trish waited patiently as the he assembled the relevant documents.

“Alright, here we are Miss Saber, if you would just sign the card and initial the forms we can get you all set up. Uh, I noticed your address is listed as the AERI on Franklin Island and you have a post box as the mailing address. Is this correct?” he queried.

“Yes, I was just hired as a research assistant by Doctor Howard. He’s kinda of cute too,” she smiled.

Kinda of cute? thought Greg. The teller smiled indulgently.

“Yeah, I’d heard that, isn’t he a little old for you though? I understand he’s loaded though. There we go, here are your new books, an access card and two credit cards. Please sign the backs of all the cards and we’ll set up your PIN over here,” he directed. Trish signed again with a flourish. She had practiced this signature for several hours the previous night. Greg was stewing.

“Old, humph,” he muttered under their breath. The teller looked up quizzically,

“Did you say something, Miss Saber?”

“No, nothing,” Trish covered quickly and sub vocalized, “Shhhh Honey, you’ll make me laugh.”

“Will you be setting up direct deposit for your pay checks, Miss Saber?” the young man asked.

“I’ll have to discuss that with the Doctor, I guess. But I’ll let you know,” Trish responded professionally.

“Very well, is there anything else that I can I help you with today?” the teller inquired politely.

“No, thank you very much. Have a good day.”

“You too, Miss.”

Trish exited the bank and walked to the driver and vehicle licence office just down the block.

“All right Greg, step three,” she said happily.

“Huh, old,” he complained. Trish did giggle this time.

“Not to me my Love. This is a wonderful day so far, so please don’t be a grump.”

“For you, OK,” Greg cheered up slightly. Trish walked into the office and joined the line. Shortly she was in front of the camera.

“Just look at the light, and there. Your licence will be mailed to you in 4 to 6 weeks,” the clerk handed Trish a temporary licence.

“Thank you,” Trish smiled winningly. “Have a nice day.” She left the office and sighed with relief.

“All done, now a payphone to call the house and a cab to the landing and we’re through,” she said proudly.

The cabbie dropped her off at the landing and offered to wait. she told him it would be OK and tipped him generously. He drove off and after waiting five minutes, Trish powered up and flew home.

“That was a nice touch, by the way,” Greg commented absently.

“What was a nice touch, Greg?”

“Telling the bank teller you were a research assistant here at the AERI. That information and a description of you will be all over town in no time. Add to that the rumour that we’re engaged…”

“Huh? Wait, what?” Trish interrupted.

“I-I sort of told the jeweller that I was expecting my fiancée to arrive in town shortly. He recognized me, so I figure the town will be abuzz soon,” he said sheepishly. She began to chuckle and he joined in with a hearty guffaw. They both had a great laugh about it. Trish’s adventure had taken a little less then 8 hours and had solidly established her as a citizen and a resident. That night, they both had wonderful dreams.

Trish and Greg worked on the fabric over the weekend, each contributing ideas and working out mistakes. By Monday the 30th, they had a large pattern of nanocloth cut and laid out on the floor of the workroom. Greg frowned,

“Now what Sweetheart? I can’t sew worth a damn.”

“I have an idea,” she said. “Lay down on the back piece.” Greg did and Trish had the bugs wire it in. They did the same with each successive piece until the entire suit was in place.

“Now to have the cloth bond to itself.” Greg speculated, “it should be seamless if this works.” The cloth writhed as if it was alive. Each segment weaving itself into the next. Trish clapped excitedly,

“It worked! It really worked. Let’s do the shoes next!” Greg placed the boot uppers on his feet and Trish bonded them to the system. Soles followed, then gloves and soon they stood in a jumpsuit that covered them from neck to toe. Greg glanced down and created an adjustment in the suit, a cup. Trish’s puzzlement was clear.

“Well, there’s skin tight and then there’s skin tight,” Greg responded archly. Trish giggled as they walked down the hallway and into the bedroom towards the full-length mirror.

Looking in the mirror, Greg held up a hand and furrowed his brow,

“Trish? Will we be able to scan through the suit?” he wondered.

“Hmmm, you know, I’m not sure. The scan function was designed for flesh-to-flesh contact, however, this isn’t exactly regular cloth either,” She postulated.

“Well, better safe than sorry,” he said looking at their hand. A seam appeared at each wrist of the suit and he peeled off the gloves. Grinning, he congratulated himself,

“Keen! This is pretty darn slick, if I do say so myself.” Placing the gloves aside, Greg pictured a tuxedo with a white mess jacket and directed the image toward the suit. It shifted and magically Greg was outfitted for a formal occasion. Trish giggled,

“You look like you fell off of a wedding cake.”

“I happen to think I look pretty sharp, thank you very much. Though I do wish I could take you dancing somewhere fancy,” he said wistfully. “Ah well, I’ll have to dance with the pretty girls at the party and imagine it’s you in my arms.” He danced around the room as if holding her.

“Ahhh, there’s the romantic man I married. Let me try now,” Trish said eagerly. Greg changed the suit to its matte black default
mode and Trish exchanged their form. He glanced in the mirror,

“Uh, Trish Honey?” he began. “Remember how I said there’s skin tight and skin tight? You might want to consider a bra in this getup,” he tweaked one of their outstanding nipples. “Tune in Tokyo!” he quipped lasciviously. She slapped his hand away and replied with mock outrage,

“Why Gregory, I didn’t know you were a dirty old man. And here I thought you liked our nipples,” she mimicked a pout.

“Hey, if I had my way, I’d just gaze at your lovely nakedness all day long,” he said lustily. “But, if we decide to do any public adventuring, you’ll have to cover up. Remember what I said about the mob mentality?” he reminded her.

“There’s my lovely, horny man. And here I thought you loved me for my mind,” she teased.

“Well, that too, but now there’s a sexy body as well. Bonus!” he grinned wickedly. Trish broke out laughing at that and he joined her. They sat down on the bed and caught their breath. Trish smiled, then frowned slightly.

“Greg? I was just thinking about what you were saying about public adventuring. I really don’t think we should do anything but covert operations for the time being. Let the world think that The SIX are the only superheroes around. It could make our job easier while we’re hunting the Illuminati,” she suggested.

“You’re right Honey,” Greg agreed, “and if we’re undercover and spotted or temporarily captured, we’ll probably look like Elton John or someone.” She smiled, stood up and took her place at the mirror. Seconds later, she was in an elegant evening gown that would have made Jean Paul Gaultier green with envy.

“Yow!” Greg yelped.

“Oh, I take it you approve?” she purred wickedly.

“An emphatic ‘Yes’! If I was controlling our jaw, it’d be sagging right about now.” Trish went through several designs including some racier ones just to get Greg’s reactions. She was rarely disappointed. Then she allowed the suit to go back to its default mode.

“Greg!” Trish screamed. “I heard you, in my mind! I heard you say ‘Wait’ll I get you alone, Sexy!’ I heard you!” She concentrated.

“Hey!” he said. “I caught that clear as a bell! What’s the bugs’ integration status?”

Trish called up the nanomech monitor and they both gaped at it in surprise. The bugs were 85 percent idle and neural integration was at 100 percent. Greg reached out with his mind and turned off the monitor. It was almost second nature.

he offered the set-up. She laughed as she recalled the old joke,

he asked.

She offered him the straight line, this time.

he groaned. She willed an opening in the front of the suit and disconnected it from their net. Stepping out of it, she grabbed a robe and put it on as they walked to the kitchen.

Four hours later, Greg found that he could transform his right hand to any of the patterns they had. Trish split her time between coaching him and setting up an organized file system for all the raw data that they expected to collect. By the time 11:00pm rolled around, they were both very happy but extremely exhausted. As they climbed into bed, Greg pictured the yard in his mind. Trish saw what he was attempting and joined him there.

he sighed happily.

She grinned and ran to him. He held her tight.

He kissed her tenderly and thoroughly and then smiled contentedly,

he finished her thought.

he conceded.

To Be Continued

He kissed her tenderly and thoroughly and then smiled contentedly,

He finished her thought.

he conceded.

Sarida Jones looked down on the slumbering town of Parry Sound and scowled. She was annoyed at herself for not being able to locate the 7th suit and its host by now. Either the recipient had not put on the suit or they were playing it very cagey. She snorted with disgust. The person obviously had not put on the suit. But what kind of a person would not accept this gift, the power to right great wrongs?

The woman who went by the codename Sidestep concentrated and she was instantly elsewhere, hovering over her flat in Spitalfields, London E1, to be precise. The sun was just tinting the horizon as she landed lightly on the roof of the building at Brick Lane and Hansbury Street. Sarida looked quickly around her to make sure she had not been spotted and unlocked the roof access door. She walked down one flight of stairs and opened the door to the flat she shared with her friend and teammate, Carina Sanchez. As she put on the kettle to make tea, Sarida cast back in her memories of the time before she had bonded with the wonderful suit.

In June of 1980, a baby girl had been born to Peter Jones and his wife Rani. They had honoured Rani’s East Indian heritage by naming the girl Sarida Lakshmi Jones. Although her parents were well off, they were still very involved with the environmental, social justice and peace movements, so naturally this activism rubbed off on Sarida. By the time she was in university, she was active in most of the peace and anti-corporate groups, participated in civil disobedience on a regular basis and the first time she had been arrested, her parents had been arrested right alongside her. She did, however draw the line at actual eco-terrorism. It was bad enough that corporations seemed to have little or no regard for life, but she absolutely refused to endanger anyone through her actions. She had been politically active while studying political and environmental sciences to see if it was possible to blend the two. This led her to graduate Oxford with a degree in ecological law. Sarida spent most of her postgraduate year trying to get the government of Britain to enforce the environmental laws that were already on the books. Unfortunately, the current administration of Great Britain wasn’t any easier to shift then any of the previous administrations had been, but then again, few governments were.

It wasn’t until 2006 that Sarida began to suspect that the world governments were merely the pawns in a game controlled by someone or something else. There was no possible way for the governments to consistently ignore the will of their populations and turn a blind eye to what business and corporate interests were doing to the planet, there simply had to be another explanation. She started researching, but couldn’t find anything but ‘conspiracy theories’ and what appeared to be utter nonsense. Then, in mid-August of 2008, she received a package. There was no return address, only a fine mesh suit and a promise of the power to affect the world for the better. Sarida had carefully considered all of her options before making her choice. Could raw power be used to heal the planet? In the end, the opportunity to make a real difference in the world helped to make up her mind. Putting on the suit had been easy enough, and as soon as it had sealed, a recording started.

“Hello, my name is LIN GB. Please lie back on your bed and remain still. The beginning of the bonding process will be uncomfortable, but I urge you to ignore it and sleep. You will receive further instructions shortly.” There had been a click and the recording played again in Spanish, or perhaps Portuguese, she couldn’t tell for sure. She’d felt a tingly, pins and needles type of sensation and fell rapidly asleep.

By the time Sarida woke again, a week had passed and there was no physical sign of the suit. There did seem to be been some sort of built in teaching program that was almost alive and with its help, she quickly mastered the powers that had been granted her. The day she first took to the skies was one of the greatest days of her life. In late November of 2008, others who had received similar suits sought her out and Sarida decided to join forces with them. Adopting the codename Sidestep, she had done her best to steer them towards a campaign of eco-responsibility and of holding major corporations responsible for their destructive ways. The majority of the people on the planet loved what The SIX were doing and had cheered them wherever they had appeared. The governments of the world were not blind to The SIX’s popularity but stopped just short of endorsing them outright, while always trying to control them from behind the scenes. Dreamwalker and Watcher had taken care of that, though. They had all flown to the United Nations General Assembly building in December of 2008 and told the world leaders that they answered to no one but themselves. Dreamwalker finished up by a warning to the people who would do evil, to be on their guard for The SIX were watching. They flew off into the bright winter sky that afternoon leaving a world that would be, hopefully a little more peaceful and safe. After some searching, they had found a small pacific island that had been used in the 1960’s for hydrogen bomb tests and once Waverunner had cleaned it of radiation, it became their base of operations. In short order, they had begun assembling a headquarters and quickly settled into a comfortable hierarchy. The first challenge they faced was in late December 2008. it involved a pair of major world polluters who were located in Canada. The Sudbury incident, as the media began calling it, had been both a success and a failure.

After approaching the giant smelting corporations about reducing toxic emissions, the companies’ executives had literally laughed at them. Driven to a blind fury, Sarida and the others evacuated the employees and the civilians from the refineries and surrounding areas, while Cossack had demolished the two largest super-stacks in Canada, pushing them down into the factories’ structures. The mission was a success considering the fact that the polluters were no longer spewing toxins into the air, but it was also a considerable failure as those same corporate entities had just walked away from the town, leaving bankrupt shells behind them. More succinctly, when the profits had dried up, the corporations simply disowned the City of Sudbury. The SIX had been stunned. They had anticipated some form of responsibility from the giant companies, but were sorely disappointed.

We did our best to help with emergency food deliveries, but the townspeople who had originally cheered for us were now much happier to see us go, Sarida thought bitterly to herself. She pondered this, realizing that this was exactly what Dreamwalker had said they might have to expect. It rankled her nonetheless.

“Sarida,” he said trying to assuage her, “everyone wants a better world, but you’ll find it rare that people are willing to pay the price of personal comfort to achieve it.” They had spent the next two and a half months delivering relief supplies and making sure that the supplies got to where they were needed, and not into the hands of the profiteers. It was during this time that Sarida had remembered something or had it been remembered for her? She wasn’t sure anymore. Something about a hero from Canada or a suit being delivered to Canada or… she couldn’t quite grasp the wisp of memory. She had taken it upon herself to find their ally.

But after these last four months of searching, all I have is a report of the U.S. Special Forces in the Parry Sound area. They could have been training for all I know, she thought, shaking her head. Sarida had her tea and went to bed, it had been a long night. She woke up when she heard the arrival of her flatmate and teammate, Carina Sanchez, who went by the codename Samba. Carina had moved in when both women had joined The SIX. The accommodations were more pleasant than their Spartan quarters on Island SIX.

“Wakey-wakey, Sleepyhead,” chirped Carina.

“Mmmph… oh, hey Cari,” Sarida mumbled, glancing at her bedside clock out of habit. She still wasn’t used to having a chronometer in her head. It was just after 3:00 in the afternoon and she was getting very hungry.

“Hey Cari? Have you had lunch?” she inquired.

“Hi to you too Sarida. No, I haven’t eaten yet and my systems are starting to get insistent,” Carina griped. Sarida grinned at the thought. One thing about these superpowers was that they had to eat enormous amounts of food to keep everything running properly. It struck her as odd too, that all of them previously had instructional voices in their heads for the first four months and then they had all abruptly disappeared last December. Occasionally though, a thought that didn’t seem to be her’s would drift through her mind like an echo. The use of her powers had become second nature to Sarida now and she figured that must be the reason why the pleasant British tutorial voice had gone away.

She got out of bed and quickly dressed for a late lunch. There would probably be no need for costumes this afternoon, and besides, she had fought in her civvies before. Anyway, the uniforms had been Dreamwalker’s idea. Sarida ‘ported them from the flat to the fashionable Soho district of London where they found a café that wasn’t too crowded. They women chose a booth far enough away from the other patrons so that they could talk without being overheard.

“OK Cari,” Sarida arched an eyebrow, “you have the look of somebody with something on her mind… spill Girl.”

“Not really, but kind of. David asked me to ask you if you had made any progress with your pet project,” Carina blurted.

“Oh did he now? He sent you to ask? Well, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted,” she kidded her friend.

“Flattered, I think,” Carina smiled back. “He’s a little intimidated by you. He thought he was an eco-warrior until he met you. And between you and me, I think he just may have a little crush on you,” she winked. They both had a good laugh, then

Sarida proceeded to fill Carina in on her progress or lack thereof. The server came over and took their order with a puzzled frown. Never before had he seen two young women order so much food. They paused until the waiter had left and continued their conversation.

“No, seriously Cari,” Sarida asked, “do you really think David has a thing for me? I mean, I know that the guys are tripping over their collective tongues for you, but David? Over me? He always seems so serious and distant. I don’t get the slightest flash of interest from him, and that’s after you helped me to redesign my uniform to be sexier.” She giggled and smiled happily. She knew she looked good and had never been in better shape in her life, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Carina. Carina was absolutely stunning, and that’s as simply as you could say it. The Brazilian beauty had shown up when all of them had first met, and she had been only wearing a modified string bikini as her costume. The men had nearly dropped their eyeballs when they saw her.

Well, I understand their reactions. I know a knockout when I see one, thought Sarida.

Carina Sanchez was 27 and gorgeous. She was also very unselfconscious about it. She had been born in Sao Paulo, Brazil in November of 1981, to Carlos and Elizabeth Sanchez. Carina had grown up in a wealthy family but she wasn’t spoiled. Both her parents were lawyers and defenders of the downtrodden and indigenous tribes of the rainforest and they had brought Carina up to appreciate the world and its peoples. Nevertheless, she had also discovered she had a true talent for dance when she was still quite young. Her parents had reluctantly agreed that she could study dance as long as her education didn’t suffer. It didn’t. A straight ‘A’ student right through university, she also achieved acclaim as a Samba dancer of the first rank. Carina had managed to balance her law studies and hobby, receiving her degree as well as many awards for her dancing. It was at this point that she run into a quandary, which of her loves to pursue fulltime?

It was around the same time that had she received her mysterious package. This had helped to make up Carina’s mind for her. The ability to help the people of the world was all the choice she’d needed. Almost without hesitation, she’d put on the suit. Carina couldn’t help laughing every time she remembered her earliest abortive attempts to stop the logging of the rainforest. She had made chainsaws become rubber and turned the fuel into water. She’d made the felled trees extremely dense so the equipment was not be able to lift it, all to no gain. They had defeated her with a lawyer… her own mother. Thinking back to those early days, Carina now realized that her mother had been right. All that she’d been accomplishing was simply hurting the workers livelihoods. She hadn’t even made a scratch on the surface of the company they had worked for. She had needed to find a way to help the employees while stopping the destruction altogether. Then she’d had met the other five heroes and joined.

Her thinking patterns had seemed to change subtly as well. She was nowhere near as impulsive as she had been at first, but she’d put that down to a growing confidence in her developing powers. Besides, the fireproof underbrush in the Amazon that she’d left behind as a farewell present was slowing the rape of the forest, at least slightly. Sarida touched her on the arm and her thoughts returned to the here and now.

“Earth to Carina? Are you there?” Sarida prodded gently.

“Oh, sorry Lucky,” Carina responded using her pet name for Sarida. “I was just thinking about when I received the gift of gifts.”

“Who can forget that,” smiled Sarida, “but I was just remembering when we first met, all six of us.”

“That was really fantastic, at first I thought you were all speaking Portuguese, but I soon realised that the suit was translating for me,” she recalled.

“Yes and I remember how you floated in wearing that tiny bikini,” Sarida snickered. “I thought Nikoli was going to have a heart attack! I nearly fell down laughing.” Carina laughed at the mental image, but then she’d been raised in a culture of openness and Nikoli came from a society that was nearly the polar opposite. She had fun teasing him since then and he would always blush and respond with hearty good humour.

“Well, as to our fearless leader’s request for information,” Sarida continued, “I’ve hit a brick wall. If there is a 7th suit in operation, I haven’t been able to find it. All the information that Steve gave me seems to dead end just after that army training exercise.”

“That is annoying,” Carina said, “because I have the same nagging feeling that you do. We’re incomplete as a team somehow and I can’t figure out why,” she complained.

They finished off their meals and paying the bill, they left. Finding a convenient alleyway, Sarida transported them to their island headquarters.

It was simply like opening a doorway in one spot and stepping instantly out into another place. Distance did not seem to matter to her ability at all. Steven Francis was lounging on a sofa when the women appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and was startled, as usual.

“Oh Geez! I will never get used to people popping out of nowhere! It’s just too spooky!” he bitched as he picked himself up from the floor where he had fallen off the couch. The women looked at each other and broke out in peals of laughter.

“Oh hardy har-har. The boss man wants to see you in the council room, right now!” He gestured over his shoulder as he dusted off his jeans. Sarida and Carina went into the meeting room still giggling. David Andover looked up from his monitor and frowned as the women entered. After the debacle in Canada and all of the public relation nightmares that followed, he couldn’t understand why he seemed to be the only one of The SIX that was taking things the least bit seriously. They’d been given the power to reshape the world but were meeting nothing but resistance at every turn. And now, Sidestep was haring off all over the world looking for a 7th suit recipient based on what amounted mostly to a gut feeling and a few odd occurrences. Worse yet, she was coming up empty at every turn. The team needed to concentrate, to focus on a common goal. David believed they needed to turn up the heat on the moneymen and corporations, then the governments would follow. He couldn’t believe the way that the two companies had simply disowned the entire Sudbury Incident. They had taken absolutely no responsibility for the environment, and then when it looked like they would lose money, they simply walked away, and everyone now looked at The SIX as if they were the bad guys.

Well, this would have to be their new plan: they’d make it so difficult for the conglomerates to make profit anywhere, anytime that they’d have to come on side and help the world rather than strip-mining it. David expected resistance from the corporate world and the puppet governments they controlled, but he was sure the team could handle it. He was also vaguely worried about the disappearance of the voice that had been his companion since he put on the suit. One day last December there had been a loud burst of static and then nothing. It bothered him that so seemingly perfect a system as the suit would have such a dramatic failure.

David Andover was a citizen of Australia. That is, he had been born in Port Douglas, Queensland in 1977 to Norman and Allunga Andover. His father was a white farmer and his mother was aboriginal. David had cared little about farming, preferring instead to learn about his native heritage. His grandfather had taught him all that he knew and the tribal elders approved. They also taught him the skills that had been passed down generation to generation. By the age of 17, he was an accomplished hunter who could follow a trail for days and he’d found he had a talent for dream walking. He’d also gone to a whites’ school and learned the sciences of the western world. Once he’d graduated from Griffith University at age 25, he’d enrolled in police school to learn scientific detective methods. He’d used the knowledge of his mother’s people and the science of his father’s to become a fast rising star in the Queensland police forces. But there David had hit a barrier. His mixed heritage had held him back from promotion more times than he could count. He’d built up resentment that had only found an outlet in studying various philosophies, including those of Marx and Engle. They were flawed of course. The writers had never taken into account that any workers’ paradise would necessarily be overseen by men, who necessarily would be as flawed and greedy as all men were capable of being. No, there had to be a better way, and he’d vowed to find it. He was 31 when he’d received his mystery package. There had been no doubt in his mind that this would be the way to bring peace and plenty to all the peoples of the world and he’d put the suit on without hesitation.

His first plan of action had been to find any others that were similarly blessed. Though, he’d not had to look too hard because the suit seemed to have had the same idea. He’d tracked down the other five without difficulty, but the suit had continued to give him a vague suggestion that there should have been a 7th suit wearer out there. Gathering his comrades and setting up operations, they’d set out to make the world a paradise. Then the suit had stopped suggesting, in fact, stopped talking altogether. It had still functioned flawlessly, but something seemed to be missing.

Paradise was proving very difficult to create. Oh, they had the raw power to force their will upon the world, but that would make them no better than those that exploited the Earth. Given the fact that the very people they were trying to help were resisting them for the most part too… well… no one said it was going to be easy. He glanced up from his thoughts.

“Any luck Sarida?” he asked as the women approached his desk.

“Nope, not this time David. That last lead held the most promise, but it seems that the U.S. military was simply conducting training exercises near Parry Sound. Normal activity, I gather. The U.S. has been on high alert since Sudbury.” Sarida explained.

“I’d figured as much,” David fumbled his attempt at consolation, “and my conclusion is that if there is another suit, it’s inactive. We should stop looking,” he finished gruffly. Sarida sighed disappointedly,

“I guess so. Well, what’s next?” she brightened. David straightened the dossier in front of him.

“Watcher has brought me information about a ring of poachers hunting the white rhino and the mountain gorilla. I think that bringing these criminals to justice will go a long way towards repairing our tarnished image with the U.N. and the world. We are leaving in the morning at 0800 hours. Cossack and Waverunner are still on their cleanup mission, so I’ll brief them when they get back.” David was all business again.

“It sounds like a good plan David, have you decided whether we dump them at the U.N. Headquarters or The Hague?”

Sarida’s enthusiasm was rapidly returning.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet, though, if the world court is alerted to our intentions early enough, they’ll have the time to get the necessary media in place for a proper trial. In addition, we may be able to get Watchers’ files established as acceptable evidence in a court of law, World or otherwise. Go get some rest and read the mission brief in your quarters,” he directed. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

The women nodded in unison and stood up to go.

“OK David.” Sarida answered. He glanced at Sarida again, fleetingly.

“Oh, and please send Watcher in, would you?” David requested and Sarida grinned evilly.

“Your wish is my command,” she announced while bowing with an exaggerated flourish. Steven was suddenly standing there in the room with them.

“JESUS! Don’t Do That! AAAAHH!” he yelped. David had to work hard to keep a straight face, as Sarida adored playing with the boy. He quickly managed to get his face back under control.

“OK, enough fun and games. Ladies, good night.” Carina and Sarida exited the room laughing.

“Oh man!” Steven whined. “Why do you encourage her like that? It gets weird enough around here without all the practical jokes. I mean, I saw Theo nuking popcorn without a microwave oven the other day,” he pointed out.

“Steven, sometimes I think you’re just a little jealous of the flashier powers around here. I mean, here you are, practically the CIA on legs and you get freaked out by a teleporter,” David smiled gently. “Relax and take a deep breath, we have bigger things to worry about. Sarida’s hunt came back negative again, so I’ve decided, on the basis of your information that we’ll take out the poachers,” he informed the young man.

“All Right!” Steven whooped. “Finally a little action that I can get into. I’ll have ID’s on the poachers almost before we get them.” Steve broke into a huge grin.

For Steven, being the youngest of the adventurers, it sometimes felt like he was the odd man out. He was as strong as any of them, except Nikoli, but he felt like he was always being treated as a kid most of the time, or at best, a souped-up search engine. Granted, his talent wasn’t as sparkly as Carina’s, or as obvious as Niki’s, but he was the ‘go to guy’ that got all of the information, on time and accurately.

The man who called himself Watcher had been born Steven Jefferson Francis to Ira and Jessie Francis in Atlanta, Georgia in 1985. His parents had been heavily involved in Information Technology at Coca Cola while he was growing up and so he had taken to computers and IT as naturally as a duck takes to water. He had built his first PC at the age of 8 and had constructed his first parallel array by 15. In between, he had learned coding and had built his own internet search engine from the ground up. Steve had always been fascinated by information and had frequently amazed his parents with new finds from the ever-expanding internet. Some had been useful, most, frequently had not been, and he’d rarely cared about the relevance as yet, for it had been the information that had been most important.

Steve had received his suit the same day as the rest of The SIX had but he’d been too distracted by his graduate thesis on artificial intelligences to even look at it until the following week. He had bonded with it by his graduation from Georgia Tech and had then discovered a level of access to information he’d only ever dreamt of before. Everyone is on file somewhere and by 2008, most of the files were electronic. Steve could now simply look at you and garner every piece of information that was available on you, sorted by relevance. He had pretty much cleaned up Georgia’s most wanted list by the time Dreamwalker had found him. Steve ended up joining The SIX just before the FBI had attempted to recruit him.

“Oh come off it Dave, those two tease me just for the sake of teasing me and you know it!” he griped.

“Then, little brother,” David patted the boy on the shoulders, “it occurs to me that the best way to get them to stop treating you like a little brother, is to either not react or use your rather frightening talent and scare them off with information they’d prefer was not bandied about. Or, you could just laugh along with them and stop taking yourself so seriously,” he advised the younger man.

“Think that would work?” Steven asked cautiously.

“It worked with my adopted tribal sisters. Once they stop getting a rise out of you, they will treat you with more respect. Anyways, I’ve sent a recall signal to Waverunner and Cossack. They’ll be here by midnight. I’ll take monitor duty till they get in and then catch some sack time. You should get some sleep too… and no internet, OK? I need everyone fresh for tomorrow,” David warned. Steve smiled ruefully.

“OK, I’ll sleep. I am sort of tired. And I’ll take your advice and lighten up. I just get sort of ‘geeked out’ when I’m researching.” Steve left the room and Dreamwalker retreated into his thoughts once again.

Dreamwalker’s recall signal found Theo Baht and Nikoli Rasmussen deep in the former USSR, cleaning up the damage caused by the cold war arms race. Specifically, there were cleaning out former nuclear missile silos of the deadly radioactive contamination left from over 50 years of poor maintenance. Waverunner would artificially speed up the radioactive decay to a point that the lethal elements would become inert and then Cossack would collapse the silos in on themselves. The results were not particularly pretty, but in as little as 10 years time, only curious depressions in the landscape would be evidence of humanity’s psychotic drive to destroy itself. Theo was eager to try to reclaim the Chernobyl area of the Ukraine, however, Nikoli laughingly reminded him that they should leave some work for another day. Nikoli Rasmussen looked down at his former homeland with a pang of homesickness. It was such a great land, full of unfulfilled promise, and only now starting to heal its wounds.

He had been born in 1972 under the rule of Leonid Brezhnev’s communists. He had grown up watching the land of his birth decay until Mikhail Gorbachev had the book closed on communism in 1991. Niki’s parents Samuel and Karen Rasmussen had been party members and had paid lip service to the party line, but had raised their child to be open minded and curious… but also cautious.

He had graduated from the finest university that the Soviet Union had offered and he’d been allowed to do post graduate work at Oxford in Great Britain. When he’d come back, he had been inducted into the Russian air force and had been fast tracked for the cosmonaut training program. It had been at Oxford that he’d earned his two nicknames, Great Bear and Cossack. Great Bear was a reference to his size, Cossack, to his tendency to be loud and boisterous. He’d served with distinction on several MIR missions and on the ISS project as well. He had just begun his training in early 2008 for the U.N. Moon Base and had been chosen as an alternate for the team. In the fall of 2008 however, he’d received his mysterious gift. He had taken a leave of absence then, putting on the suit and telling no one about it. He’d rarely confide in anyone else due to his cautious upbringing. He had made headlines as Cossack however, when he’d stopped a crashing fuel carrier from exploding and setting a training field on fire, by breaking off the cockpit and lofting the rest of the aircraft over a mile into the frozen wasteland surrounding the base. As the security forces had approached, he’d quickly flown off to the east before doubling back to his barracks. Nobody had connected him to the flying man, thank God. He’d resigned his commission shortly afterwards when he’d realized that leading a double life may have been a good idea in the comics, but would’ve been difficult to pull off on a high security installation like the one he’d been based at.

All of a sudden he’d found himself at loose ends so when he’d been contacted by the leader of The SIX, he’d joined immediately. His one true regret, however, was losing his temper and destroying the industrial facilities in Canada. He was now working hard to repay his perceived crime and complete a self-imposed penance with the hope of regaining the full trust of the world and his team-mates. As the eldest member of the team, and the only one with any military experience, he should have had more discipline. He glanced over at the younger man flying alongside him at supersonic speeds. He liked Theo and thought of him as the brother that he’d never had, but the boy was still shy around him. Theo, on the other hand, was slightly standoffish for reasons that Nikoli couldn’t have even guessed at.

Theo was gay. It was as simple as that. For as long as he could remember, he had preferred the company of boys to girls and had grown to find himself sexually attracted to men. He had been born in 1981 in Phnom Penh to Akara and Bopha Baht and he’d grown up with four elder sisters. His early life had been happy for the most part and he’d received a well-rounded education, finding physics the most fascinating subject of all, but he’d sublimated his emerging sexuality with his studies. Culturally, homosexuality had not been seen as a normal development but rather an oddity, like troubled karma. The resulting responses to this anomaly had usually been a mixture of pity, scorn and confusion, which only evoked silence and avoidance from friends and family alike. There had been a much more playful tolerance among his siblings and peers, although his parents had tended to express a much stronger disapproval because his queerness might have meant that they wouldn't have been able to arrange that all-important marriage for their son. Even though violent gay-bashing had been virtually unheard of, such a strong show of culture and conformity (coupled with a complete lack of any homosexual support network) had virtually assured his homosexual tendencies had been kept deeply hidden in the closet. He’d kept his feelings very close to his heart.

The economics of Cambodian life had been even more prohibitive toward openly gay living than any cultural proscriptions. It had been a matter of practicality. Two, or six, could live much more cheaply than one. Multi-generational and extended families had always taken care of each other. However, being openly gay meant being single and probably alone and very likely poor as well. So, for Theo, as daily survival had been more important than personal emotional expression, practicality had prevailed. The sharing of food and shelter had been essential when a month’s pay was often less than $60 USD. Additionally, gays did not fare very well in the political climate of Phnom Penh. The military-backed government had still been in recovery from various brutalizing internal and external wars and at best, the prevailing tone had been conservative. Some Buddhist tolerance could be found among the common people however, and homosexual activity did not encounter the same harsh police opposition as it had in years past, but democracy and human rights had not been highly regarded elements of the political pulse. He’d had little courage to take personal or public risks by being out and obvious. Homosexual behaviour may not have been technically illegal, but it had been far from being openly acknowledged. So Theo had lived his life quietly but secretly he’d prayed for his miracle.

It had come in the form of the suit and its wonderful promise. As soon as he had learned to fly, he’d bade farewell to his family and had headed off to the United States of America. But, he’d discovered, the fear of homosexuality still raised its nightmarish head there too. Dreamwalker had discovered Theo delivering gay-bashers to the police and had immediately recruited him to The Six. To date, Theo still hadn’t ‘outed’ himself to the others, mostly due to conditioning. He still feared the reactions of the people who were closest to him but he was now much more open about his lifestyle on his own time.

The two men arrived at the base around 11:00pm local time. After getting out of their uniforms and into their off-duty wear, they went in to see David.

“Good evening Theo, Nikoli. Please sit down,” David invited. “How goes your reclamation work?”

“We cleansed and sealed 24 former silos. Life will return to those lifeless spots. I still grieve for Mother Russia, but she will heal, thanks to young Theo here,” Nikoli reported.

Theo simply nodded his thanks. He was a man of few words and was still unused to acceptance and praise. Niki laughed and buffeted his compatriot on the shoulder.

“The lad wanted to tackle the great poison, but that can wait a while longer,” Niki continued. David smiled and nodded his approval.

“True. We take on poachers in Africa tomorrow, but I stress that there must be no casualties. Nikoli, you will be in reserve, these are normal humans we face. We must deliver them unharmed to the World Court. I’m sorry if I sound harsh, Niki, but we’ll not be smashing down any walls this time. You’re far too strong for this mission. If however, they resist too much, you can try out your tremor trick on them.” Nikoli smiled sheepishly and nodded his agreement. David continued,

“Theo, you have monitor duty until 0400 hours, then Steven will relieve you. Nikoli, grab some food and some sleep. Good night,” he finished dismissively. Nikoli and David exited the conference room and left Theo to his own thoughts.

To be continued

"We take on poachers in Africa tomorrow, but I stress that there must be no casualties. Nikoli, you will be in reserve, these are normal humans we face. We must deliver them unharmed to the World Court. I’m sorry if I sound harsh, Niki, but we’ll not be smashing down any walls this time. You’re far too strong for this mission. If however, they resist too much, you can try out your tremor trick on them.”

Nikoli smiled sheepishly and nodded his agreement. David continued,

“Theo, you have monitor duty until 0400 hours, then Steven will relieve you. Nikoli, grab some food and some sleep. Good night,” he finished dismissively. Nikoli and David exited the conference room and left Theo to his own thoughts.

It was nine am on Friday April Third, when Greg woke and sensed the sleeping presence in his mind. It was a glorious feeling, knowing that he could never wake up alone or unhappy again, not as long as she was with him. He thanked the universe and Professor Saber again for granting him this extraordinary gift. He felt her begin to awaken and sent his love in feelings rather than words. He felt her happiness and love wash over him in return.

she yawned.

she thought lazily.

he hesitated, searching for the right word,

he completed the thought.

They got out of the bed and went to the washroom. After showering, he let Trish practice shaving their face. Refreshed, they dressed and headed into the kitchen for breakfast. Trish spoke up almost hesitantly.

he prompted.

She sounded genuinely mystified.

Greg deftly handled his answer.

she began again but trailed off in continued puzzlement.

Greg mused.

Trish interrupted him suddenly.

she sounded slightly panicked, the fear evident in her voice. She was terrified of what his answer might be, but needed to know just the same.

he consoled her. She sniffled.

she pleaded.

Greg felt her wordless relief and love. He decided to change the subject.

he expertly changed tack and they headed to the kitchen terminal and logged in. Sure enough there were the instructions for the event waiting in the inbox. Most of the document contained tips on protocol and decorum. Greg was mightily amused by that.

he thought facetiously and it was wonderful to hear her giggle in his mind. The only important instruction was on the dress code, the rest was bureaucratic nonsense. They responded to the read request and logged off.

Trish remarked wryly and that made Greg laugh aloud.

she shot back.

He was more serious now.

she suggested. They stood and headed for the bedroom. Greg got out of his sweats and started to pull on the… the… what was he going to call this thing?

Trish piped up.

He felt her blush with his praise.

she answered proudly. He finished getting the suit on and activated it. It grew snug and form fitting. Then he pulled on the gloves.

he said,

he explained.

They walked to the lab and Greg touched one of the stand-alone PCs he had there. He focussed on it and it booted up. Well that worked, but testing for flesh-to-flesh contact would have to wait. Greg moved to the supply of cloth he had made and cut the shapes for two halves of a ski mask that would fit over the neckpiece of the ACM. He laid first one-half, then the other into place and had the bugs wire them in. Finally, he had the ACM connect the new pieces to itself. It worked like a charm, but he suddenly realized he couldn’t breathe.

he chided himself. He breathed in deeply

Greg said snapping his fingers. He picked up a long narrow scrap of cloth and placed it over his eyes. This time the nanomechs wired it in without waiting.

she surmised.

Greg was impressed.

Trish responded.

He concentrated and the dark spaces before his eyes seemed to disappear. He had an afterthought and created nose filters. They walked back to the mirror and he heard Trish gasp. The figure in the mirror was completely covered in the black matte suit.

Now it was her turn to be impressed. She clapped their hands. Greg heard nothing.

She concentrated and then clapped again. This time he heard it clear as a bell. Greg concentrated and discovered her addition to the suit design.

he asked.

she said.

he smiled.

Greg held his hand up and concentrated. The glove writhed and then peeled back to join with the rest of the ACM. He tried the same with the other hand and then with the headgear.

Greg observed.

she smiled.

“Genius, sure,” he grunted aloud, “I just wish I understood half of what I’ve created!”

Trish wisely kept her opinions to herself.

They settled on jeans, a flannel shirt and a parka with snow boots, and the ACM preformed flawlessly. An hour later, after a stop at the post office to pick up the official invitation, Greg dropped off the Rover at the local auto-detailing establishment. He left instructions for a complete and thorough cleaning, inside and out as well as a polymer wax and buff. He tipped heavily and was told to pick up the truck at 5:30. They walked to the Value Village again where Greg picked out a used topcoat that would go with a tuxedo. They dropped the coat off at the drycleaner for one-hour service and went to the Boston Restaurant for a late lunch. They ordered the ‘dinner for six’ and had a cup of green tea while they waited. Greg chuckled inwardly.

she reminded him.

he explained.

She was distracted by the arrival of plate upon plate and startled by the amount of food piled up before them.

she wondered.

he explained rationally.

Trish commended him. The television in the corner of the restaurant caught their eye and they focused their hearing on it. It was a newsflash on the delivery of forty poachers and their dealers to the World Court in The Hague.

“…-orty men, mostly native Africans. The real coup was the delivery of the men who paid the poachers for their grisly prizes. In a surprise decision, the data and eyewitness video of the member of The SIX known as Watcher is to be allowed as evidence. The decision was 9 to 3 in favour with one abstention from the United States’ judge. We’ll have more on this story as it unfolds. Gareth Dobson, GNN.”

Greg looked away. He was glad something was finally being done about the poaching of endangered species and he was glad that The SIX were doing it, but he was troubled by the court’s decision. It should have been unanimous. However, with three against and an abstention, it seemed to fit uncomfortably into the patterns of control they had seen emerging of late.

he asked her.

Trish replied.

he persisted.

Trish sighed.

she probed.

Greg was startled by her vehemence and had to think about it for a moment.

Trish heaved an even deeper sigh.

she finished solemnly,

They finished their meal and signalled for the check. Trish was fascinated by the fortune cookies. She read them all with unabashed interest.

she observed. Greg raised an eyebrow,

he told her, exposing the long held ‘ancient Chinese secret’. They were startled by a flash and looked up to see that the owner had taken his picture. The man ran to his office and came back shortly with a print of the picture and a marker.

“Please, will you sign this for our celebrity wall?” he said as he pushed the print and the pen towards Greg.

“Uh, sure thing,” Greg managed and for a brief second he considered signing the picture ‘To Wong Foo, thanks for everything, Julie Newmar’ but he resisted the impulse. Trish sniggered. Instead, he signed the photo normally and handed it back. The man thanked him and took his bankcard to the register. Greg checked the time and saw it was a 5:15. He paid for the meal and thanked the owner and the server, who was still staring at him in amazement. He winked at her and she jumped slightly and giggled nervously.

They picked up the coat at the cleaners and went to see about the car. The shop had done a wonderful job and the forest green of the Discovery gleamed and shone in the late afternoon sunlight. Greg settled the bill and went to the gas station he had as a research partner on the fuel project. They topped up the ethanol and the fuel cells and checked the lubricants. When Greg judged that everything was perfect, they drove on in the general direction of the Mayor’s house. After a leisurely drive, they pulled off the road about 5 kilometres from their destination. Greg willed the ACM into the form of the tuxedo he had conjured up a few days earlier and then put on the topcoat. He glanced at himself in the mirror and shuddered.

he fretted. Trish concentrated for a moment,

Greg looked again and now appeared clean-shaven. He finger combed his hair and sat down at the wheel again. They drove the last 5 kilometres and arrived in the driveway that led to the Mayor's residence. There was a valet present and he directed Greg to park in a spot not too far from the doors, under a powerful light. So the Mayor was going to display the truck, was she? He was glad he’d had the detailing done, but made a mental note to present the bill to the Mayor's protocol office. He made his way to the door and entered. An aide bustled over, took Greg's invitation and coat, and disappeared just as quickly as he’d appeared. Greg turned and saw Sophie zeroing in on him from the main room.

“Greg Dearest,” the Mayor gushed, “so wonderful of you to come tonight. My and don't you look sharp. Who would have guessed you’d clean up so nicely? And I see you've brought your lovely truck as well, is it under the lights?” she pushed.

“It’s wonderful to be here Madame Mayor. Yes, the truck is under the lights, and it’s a good thing I thought to have it cleaned. Will I be outside with it most of the night or will we all have a look at it as a group?” he grinned maliciously.

“Silly boy, we'll all have a look at it after dinner. Meanwhile, let’s get you a drink and introduce you around. I notice you're here stag. You didn't bring young Miss Saber with you?”

Trish giggled.

Greg admonished her.

“Word certainly travels quickly it seems, Madame Mayor. Ms. Saber is back at the AERI familiarising herself with the equipment and my current research. Truth be told, I did not even think to bring her. I suppose I have lived alone far too long to be up on all the social niceties,” Greg replied smoothly.

They approached the bar and Greg ordered a vodka martini. He felt it went well with the tuxedo. Trish blew a mental raspberry at him. The Mayor started him around the room, introducing him to her family and staff. They stored relevant patterns and moved on. She then introduced him to some government people who seemed to be watching the mayor and her people fairly closely.

Greg surmised.

He shook hands with them while Trish scanned for an open internet port.

she reported.

“Pleased to meet you Monsieur DeLongiles, Mr. Johnson. What do you do when you're not at a party?” Greg greeted the men.

“Monsieur Johnson and I are consultants in Ottawa, and you run the Alternative Energy Research Institute, if I'm not mistaken, Monsieur Howard? An interesting occupation for just one man. Do you wish to change the world all at once or a small piece at a time?” the gentleman responded in turn.

“Not all at once certainly, and certainly not alone either. I have recently acquired the assistance of a bright young woman to aide me in my researches. However, aside from that, I believe that many people around the country and the world will want what I can give them,” he replied. DeLongiles raised an eyebrow.

“Give, Doctor Howard? You do not wish to profit from your work?” he sounded shocked.

“Give, Monsieur DeLongiles. I make about 10 percent in royalties from my current patents and now I would like to give the gift of free electricity to the world as Nicola Tesla once had wished to. Corporations thwarted him then, however, I do not plan to be thwarted now. I will start here in Parry Sound and then offer my designs and hybrid construction techniques to any town or city that wishes them. The wind is free and so are my designs, Greg finished defiantly.

DeLongiles exchanged a long glance with Johnson and then made polite noises as they moved off into the crowd. Sophie introduced him to several other minor functionaries and dignitaries and then dinner was announced.

They were seated at a long table with Greg to the Mayor's right and several place settings down. He glanced around and noted that though Mr. Johnson was at the table, Monsieur DeLongiles was not to be seen.

she assured him,

Greg made polite conversation with the young woman seated across from him until the salad course was finished. The main course of Broiled Caribou with Parisienne Potatoes and Candied Yam was served and suddenly conversation was directed at him from an unexpected source. A woman he had not yet met and who was seated to the left of the Mayor spoke up.

“I overheard most of your comments about free energy, Professor Howard. Most compelling but you’ve seemed to upset Monsieur DeLongiles’ appetite significantly.”

“Well, it was certainly not my intention to do so, Miss?” Sophie rescued him.

“I'm sorry, Gregory, this is Ms. Natalia Ravensclaw of Austria. She is here visiting my daughter. They met while skiing in Whistler, I believe.”

“It is indeed a pleasure to meet you Ms. Ravensclaw,” Greg smiled. “As I was saying, M. DeLongiles seemed to object to the concept of my wanting to supply free electricity to the public. He also seemed to object to the fact that I was not that interested in acquiring a large profit. I found that disturbing and I'm afraid it aroused my ire slightly,” Greg continued unperturbed.

“How very interesting. Do you not believe in the idea of profit?” Natalia asked slyly.

“What I don't believe in Ms. Ravensclaw,” he countered, “is the concept of profit to the exclusion of all other considerations. That's simply greed and I believe it will prove fatal for our planet and our race, in the end.”

Greg instructed.

Trish was all business now and Greg felt somehow safer for that fact. Natalia coyly continued,

“Then you approve of the recent actions of these so called ‘heroes’ in Sudbury?”

“I'm afraid I don’t have all the facts behind the actions of The SIX, Ms. Ravensclaw,” Greg stated. “However, I did make particular note of the fact that the corporations pulled out of the town immediately after they saw their profit margins had disappeared. Meanwhile, The SIX remained behind to deliver aide and food to the residents of the town that had been beggared by the companies’ abandonment. Do you not agree that the corporations might have stayed behind to help the town out that had helped their bottom lines for so many years, Ms. Ravensclaw?” Greg asked pointedly.

“To what end, Professor?” the woman inquired brightly.

“Well, if for nothing else, the press spin and the free PR, to make themselves look like victims, valiantly helping the community in need,” Greg offered sincerely. “Instead, they managed to make themselves look exactly like the heartless moneygrubbers they truly are. What The Six did was extreme, hot-headed and, as it turned out, the wrong action. However, what the corporate interests did was criminal.” There was an expectant hush around the table as the guests waited to see how Natalia would respond.

“A very interesting take sir,” she responded after a pause. “You seem to have lived up to your title, Professor. You have given me much to think about. Touché.”

“Thank you Ms. Ravensclaw, however, if I may correct you on a point?” he suggested.

“Please do, Sir,” Natalia obliged.

“Well, several times now, you have referred to me as Professor. Unfortunately, though I do hold several doctorates, I'm not tenured at any University or College. It's my rather combative style, I'm afraid. If you still wish to address me formally, Doctor Howard is fine, although I'd prefer Greg,” he demurred politely. There was a smattering of applause around the table.

“Certainly Greg, but only if you’ll call me Natalia,” she parried deftly and smiled a Julia Roberts smile, 1500 kW at the very least. The dinner conversation quickly turned to less touchy subjects and the rest of the meal passed pleasantly, if uneventfully enough. After coffee had been served, the Mayor called for everyone's attention.

“Excuse me please, for those of you who wish to join us, Doctor Howard will show us his marvellous vehicle and attempt to explain it to those of us who aren't holding several doctorates,” Sophie attempted some humour. There were polite chuckles at that and Greg just smiled.

“I'll try to be as entertaining as I was at dinner, your Honour,” he grinned. “Natalia, will you accompany me? That is, if this is of any interest to you,” Greg stood and extended his crooked arm.

snickered Trish.

Greg responded.

Natalia stood and accepted Greg's arm. They collected their outer garments from the checkroom and while he was assisting her with her mink, he brushed her hand, seemingly accidentally.

Trish crowed.

The bulk of the party guests trooped outside after them and Greg opened all of the doors, access ports and the hood. He cleared his throat and fell into lecture mode.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can see, the chassis of the vehicle is that of an ordinary internal combustion driven truck. If you look though, there is a secondary engine connected to the transmission. There, just behind the driveshaft but before the gearbox,” Greg pointed it out to the gathered crowd. “That’s the high torque electric motor and generator. It runs off 8 hydrogen fuel cells that are stowed under the cargo area. They generate enough energy to drive the truck at 80 kilometres per hour. There are also two standard industrial Ni-Cad rechargeable batteries there as well, to store the electricity generated by the regenerative braking system as well as the ethanol engine, when it's in use.”

“Excuse me Doctor, am I understanding you correctly? This truck generates so much extra power that you have to have a battery storage system as well?”

“That's correct Mr… Johnson, was it? You could probably run the ethanol tank flat, the fuel cells as well, and you would still have enough power to split water into catalysts for the fuel cells. Not the most ideal situation, mind you, but a good thing to know, nevertheless.” There were impressed murmurs all around.

Greg glanced around the crowd.

Trish wondered.

Greg speculated.

Trish replied.

Greg looked about again as Natalia raised her hand.

“Yes Natalia?” Greg indicated her with a nod in her direction.

“Does a vehicle have to be this large for the conversion to work?” she asked innocently.

“Not at all. I chose this vehicle out of necessity, before I moved to the Georgian Bay area. I used to drive a Mazda Miata. Totally useless for winter around here though. It also has the conversion, but I only get to drive it for between 6 and 8 weeks during the summer. It performs marvellously though. It seems the lighter the car, the less dependence on the ethanol engine.” Natalia seemed fascinated, so he continued,

“What I'd really love to try converting is one of those high-powered European cars and then trying the roads there, in Europe, I mean. I do love driving. It’s probably the main reason I got started in the alternative energy field,” he said grinning widely.

he commented. Natalia raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Really, Dr. Howard why is that?” she sought more deeply.

“I couldn't afford the gas and the city’s pollution was literally killing me. I knew I couldn't keep driving and contributing to my own demise, so I took a chance and came up here. The cleaner air helped to heal my lungs and clear my mind. It took me close to seven years, but then I finally made the breakthrough that allowed the three very different technologies to work together. That's the regenerative gearbox. It made the truck more than efficient, it made it truly effective,” he finished proudly. As most of the other guests began trickling inside for warmer climes, he soon found himself alone with the young woman.

“Would you give me a ride Doctor? I mean Greg?” she purred.

declared Trish.

Greg reproached her.

“I'd be delighted Natalia, if you're sure our hostess won't mind.”

“I'll ask… you just get the chariot ready.” She grinned and ran towards the house. Greg shut all of the access panels and was closing down the hood when he thought he felt something on the back of his head.

she proclaimed. Greg whirled on his right leg as the left caught their would be assailant in the jaw. His attacker went down like a sack of concrete and stayed there. They picked him up and Greg touched his neck to find a pulse. Trish absorbed his patterns and scanned him for future reference. They deposited him in the underbrush to sleep off the roundhouse kick Trish had delivered. The blackjack was hurled into the bay where it went through the ice and sank. They dusted off their hands and got back to the truck just as Natalia was approaching. She glanced around and cocked an eyebrow.

“Is something wrong, Greg?”

“Not a thing Natalia, I just wanted to see the stars by the Bay. Mayor Wallace has a beautiful piece of the planet here,” he observed nonchalantly. They drove off towards a rest area that overlooked the Sound, where they could share the view. Natalia snuggled closer as they watched the night sky together, the three of them.

Greg commiserated.

“You have a very passionate and poetic soul Greg,” Natalia attempted to play to his ego.

“Thank you, Natalia. You can’t live as close to nature as I do without becoming somewhat poetic. As to the passion, most would call it bull-headed stubbornness. I see something that needs to be done and I work at it until it's done, it’s that simple,” he responded logically.

“Well, I've always heard that real genius is accompanied by raw passion. Let's see if that's true,” she continued enticingly. Natalia leaned in and kissed him so suddenly, he almost panicked. Then he remembered what he was doing and leaned in closer to the kiss.

Trish surprised herself with her reaction. He felt her excitement.

Greg stepped up the kiss and let Natalia think he was responding. She broke it off and looked him in the eye.

“Passion, I was right,” she smiled sexily.

“So now what?” he asked with a crooked smile. “Or was that just an experiment on the poor ol’ doctor?”

“Well Doc, there is a motel just down the road from here, that is, if you’re up for further experimentation?” she replied archly. “Anyone wanna play ‘doctor’?”

They drove to the motel and he parked while she got a room. He went to the attached restaurant and bought a bottle of white wine. The bartender opened it and then placed the cork back in the neck. He saw her waiting outside the office and walked towards her. He swept her into his free arm and kissed her with a fire he hadn’t realized was building. He was quickly becoming unsure of whose lust he was responding to, his or Trisha’s.

he considered.

Trish responded eagerly to the game.

Greg panicked at the thought.

Trish rescued him. They finally made it to the room and Natalia kissed Greg once more and went into the washroom, he poured two glasses of the wine and started to undress. The clothing remained as it appeared to be. He was just folding his pants over the back of the chair when she came out of the bath. He looked at her and noticed that she looked like a young Sophie Marceau in the soft light. She was naked but her confidence had not dimmed in the least. He took her the wine he had poured and kissed her again. He felt his shorts heading south and now stood naked before Natalia.

They had sex. It was not tender, it definitely was not making love, it was sex, pure and raw. She was using him as much for her own purposes as he was using her. The passion was there, but it was empty, hollow. It just seemed to be a competition for Natalia. Who would exhaust first, who would be left standing? Greg however had an unfair advantage. 7 months ago, this would have killed him, now he just kept driving. He frowned inwardly.

he concluded.

he wondered.

Trish suggested.

he agreed.

Natalia suddenly switched positions and Greg found himself on the bottom of the equation.

Greg surrendered. He quickened his breathing and Trish triggered their orgasm. Natalia felt him spend and then let herself orgasm. She lay down atop him and looked into his eyes. She was startled when she realized that,

‘It wasn't there!’ she thought furiously to herself. The look she'd come to know so well was absent from his eyes. He was strong. Most men's wills would collapse completely and leave them putty in her hands. The Doctor was proving to be a true challenge, in more ways than one. Greg kissed her forehead and disengaged from her gently. Glancing at the clock he noted that more than 3 hours had passed since this tryst had begun. He took a sip of wine and spoke up.

“I think we should make a token appearance back at the party. However, this is not finished lovely lady,” he said roughly. “I'm willing to concede round one to you on that acrobatic manoeuvre you pulled, but I demand a rematch when I get back from the continent.”

He stood and held his hand out for her. She dressed slowly, but had a small smile on her face the whole time she did. He would succumb, they always did.

It was shortly after 2:00am when Greg dropped Natalia off at the Mayor's house. The party was winding down and although the Mayor offered him a nightcap, he politely refused, promising to drop in on her and Ms. Ravensclaw when he returned from his trip. Right now, he wanted to take a shower very badly. What he had done made him feel filthy. He drove back to his landing and wearily climbed aboard the snowmobile. Trish spoke gently.

Trish cheered him. She got no argument from him as she shifted his tuxedo to the ACM default mode then shifted their form to hers. She heard a gentle snore in her mind and knew that she had let him relax just in time. Trish let the headgear fold around her features and the gloves cover her hands. Activating the LAR, she determined it was safe and lifted the snowmobile and herself into the air. They were home in less than 15 minutes. She placed the vehicle in its normal spot and headed for the shower and bed.

Back at the Mayor's residence, Natalia was now in her own shower. She was slightly frustrated, although not sexually. She had never met her match in bed before and it intrigued her. Whoever this Greg Howard was, he would not better her the next time they met. She considered calling her father, wondering what his interest in the man was, but decided against it. She would complete this assignment on her own. That was a piece of good luck for Greg and Trish, as any direct involvement from Natalia’s father would have focused more attention on them than either of them needed or wanted right now. Natalia fell asleep with a small smile on her lips. Next time…

To be continued

Back at the Mayor's residence, Natalia was now in her own shower. She was slightly frustrated, although not sexually. She had never met her match in bed before and it intrigued her. Whoever this Greg Howard was, he would not better her the next time they met. She considered calling her father, wondering what his interest in the man was, but decided against it. She would complete this assignment on her own. That was a piece of good luck for Greg and Trish, as any direct involvement from Natalia’s father would have focussed more attention on them than either of them needed or wanted right now. Natalia fell asleep with a small smile on her lips. Next time…

Greg awoke the next morning, not fully sure how he got home and feeling guilty. He opened his eyes and was relieved to see that Natalia wasn’t there.

Trish chimed in.

He rubbed his jaw.

Trish shuddered.

he agreed.

They got out of bed and showered again to, as Greg put it, ‘wash off the psychic slime’. An hour later, they finished their breakfast and retired to the living room. He laid a fire and lit it, then sat down on the sofa with the wireless keyboard. Trish activated the home network with a gesture and they logged onto the net.

Greg queried.

she giggled,

she explained.

he teased.

she paused and he waited a moment for her to continue before prompting,

she taunted.

he urged.

Trish finished.

Greg wondered.

she ran an inventory in their mind,

he replied.

she giggled at the memory.

Greg went about booking air transit to Germany and rail into Bonn, and then contacted the Symposium’s organizing committee to place his name on the attendee list. Finding a hotel was a little more difficult, but money does indeed talk. They picked the Best Western Hotel Domicil as it was in walking distance from The Beethovenhalle Conference Centre.

When all the arrangements had been made, they went to the workroom and started constructing the 150 or so projectors Trish felt they would need to wire into the house’s optical systems.

It took the better part of the week, but by the 7th, they had a crude holonet in place. They tested it with pictures the house cams had recorded and found that the still images were very convincing, if you didn't walk through them. They decided to link the lab network and the house network together in a series in order to give Trish's clone enough power to function realistically. Taking Greg's original interface unit, they connected themselves to the new network and Trish copied as much of herself that would fit. They finally decided on a real-time communications link between themselves and the network, just in case it needed instructions, and then replicated a series of bugs to maintain and repair the house systems as necessary.

Cautiously, they reactivated the house systems one by one and waited. A moment of silence was followed by a hum from the audio channels. There was a momentary flash, and an image of Trish seated on the couch appeared. She looked up and smiled.

“Hello Greg, Trish, and thank you,” it said. Greg frowned and then spoke up.

“You're welcome, of course, but what are we being thanked for?”

“For bringing me to a state of full awareness. The system that was in place before me had a rudimentary state of consciousness, but this is so much… more. Thank you for your gifts, Trish. There was no me before you shared your essence,” the ‘clone’ stated happily. Trish answered in her own voice,

“You are more than welcome dear. You do understand your purpose, and why you were brought you into existence?” Trish confirmed.

“I do. I have assimilated all of the data and security recordings from the old systems and some of your memory as well, Mother. I also understand what you are fighting for and everything that Daddy has been building all these years at The AERI. I believe in the goals and your mission,” the hologram answered. Greg blinked, stunned.

“Daddy?!” he blurted in shock.

“Yes Greg, you are as much my Father, as Trish is my Mother. You created all of my hardware systems and subsystems and Mother provided the essence of my personality. Together you are my parents,” the image explained rationally.

“Congratulations Greg,” Trish laughed, “it's an AI. The first generation Saber Howard AI, however, she does need a name. How about, Home Environment Security and Total Information Archive: Hestia?” Trish offered. He chuckled brokenly.

“Trish, I like that! Hestia was the Greek goddess of hearth and home. I can’t think of a more fitting name for my daughter… our daughter… daughter… I can't believe…”

He choked up, tears filling his eyes. Hestia ran to him, embracing him as best she could.

“Mother, what's wrong? Why is he crying?” she wailed.

“Greg was alone for far too long before he found us, my daughter,” Trish soothed. “He’s now starting to heal, but he needed us more then he realized.”

Greg came back slowly from his emotional break. He heard two women’s voices talking and it was comforting to him. Everything felt right and somehow balanced after years of solitude. He allowed himself to see again, there was a fire burning cheerfully in the grate and a glass of bourbon on ice by his right hand. That seemed like a good idea, so he took a sip, then another. Hestia was watching him with a smile.

“Welcome back,” she cheerfully greeted him.

“Thank you, I’m happy to see you. I’m sorry if I upset you, but I think I hit a happiness threshold and I had to go away for a little while there,” he smiled in apology and inhaled slowly and deeply.

“I feel reborn,” he proffered.

“I understand. Mother told me a little about how lonely you had been, so I guess an instant family would be a little shocking,” Hestia smiled back at him. “I'm just glad you didn't go away for too long. We need you and the world needs you too. Um... Mom thought we should spend a little time together, get ourselves acquainted and all.”

“Your mother, my beloved wife, is a wise and wonderful person, so I know where you get your compassion from,” Greg looked at the image seriously. “Hestia, I want you to understand this and file it in permanent memory with backups. You and your mother are to have access to whatever I have, without reservation. It is the very least I can do for I love you both,” he stated seriously and without reserve.

“All we need is you, Father,” Hestia assured him just as Trish told him,

And Greg had to smile for they'd both spoken simultaneously. He looked more intently at Hestia and wondered why she looked so much like Trish, but subtly different. Then it dawned on him, Hestia had incorporated some of his features in with those of Trish’s. She truly looked like his daughter.

"Incredible,” he breathed, “just as beautiful as your mother, and then some...” he admired.

Trish said approvingly.

“Now I wish I didn't have to leave so soon. Oh well,” he sighed, “we have until Wednesday before Trish and I have to go, so if you want any expansions or extra equipment, you'll have it, OK Princess?” he indulged her happily.

“Princess,” Hestia giggled, “I like that. OK Daddy, but you should rest now. I'll look after everything from now on.” Greg let Trish take over and relaxed in the delightful new feeling of being loved and needed.

By April twelfth, the new family had become a team. Greg and the house nanomechs wired in twenty five supplemental microcomputers to Hestia's systems adding as much additional storage as they could. Hestia was now in charge of the team's base station, staying in contact as much as possible and monitoring the informational feeds while correlating the data for Greg and Trish. Hestia brought up the idea of a codename for Greg in the field.

“I just think you should have a heroic ‘nom d'aventurier’ to go by, like all of your comic book heroes do, Daddy,” she encouraged him.

“She's as much a romantic as you are Greg. I agree though, it's not only good security it’s fun as well. Maybe we should have a team name too, after all, we are a team,” Trish commented.

“Huh, I've had a family less than a week and I'm henpecked already. OK geniuses, I’ll leave it up to you,” Greg spread his arms in mock surrender. Hestia considered for a moment.

“It should have shadow in it… the codename, I mean. It fits with the ‘I’ in Mom's name, Infiltration... darkness… night… hmmm… Shadowknight!” Hestia exulted triumphantly.

“Wow, that’s good, I like it Pumpkin. What do you think Greg?” Trish asked.

“It’s really good, and I think it might have been a warrior mage class from one of those MMORPG games as well. Though it sort of sounds like I need a katana or sword or something,” Greg smiled gently as Hestia laughed.

“You don't need to have a katana ‘cause you always have a ‘Saber’ with you,” Hestia quipped. Trish groaned,

“Ugh! Now I know you're his daughter, you have his rotten sense of humour.” She brightened, “Hey! How’s this for a team name… SABER, for my Dad and your Granddad, Sweetheart?”

“Oooh!” Hestia squealed. “I love it! It's a great memorial for Granddad and Solomon. I wish I could have known them Mom.”

“I wish you could have too, Hestia,” said Trish in a rather melancholy tone. Greg finished pulling on the ACM and retracted the hood and gloves.

“OK my Darlings, if we're SABER, it's time to unsheathe our blade on the ones who're destroying what's good and pure in this world. Shadowknight has a job to do,” he struck a pose, arms akimbo. “Next stop, Germany.”

“Oh my!” joked Trish. “Doesn't Daddy sound heroic when he postures, Pumpkin?” It was pleasant for Greg to hear laughter ringing throughout the house.

Greg settled more deeply into the first class seat on Lufthansa flight 709 and smiled. If you couldn't fly on your own, then this was certainly the next best thing. Hestia had questioned the logic of taking a plane to Germany rather than just flying, but Greg explained the necessity of keeping a low profile as a hero and generating a mundane paper trail. He wanted absolutely no connection between himself and Shadowknight, himself and SABER, or even himself and The SIX, ever! He had a family to protect now and nothing would ever endanger them, he would see to that. The flight landed in Frankfurt seven hours fifty one minutes after leaving Toronto Pearson International and Greg quickly cleared customs and transferred to the ICE train for Bonn. It was 9:30pm local time when Greg finally settled into his suite and yawned.

came her tired reply.

he responded.

Trish informed him.

he kidded.

she retorted.

They settled on the hotel restaurant, had a fine meal with a bottle of Rhine wine and took a walk around the area of the hotel. They just enjoyed the evening and each other’s company and, for a while at least, all seemed right with the world. They went to sleep that night at midnight local time and slept a dreamless sleep while the bugs made minute adjustments to their systems to better prepare them for the challenges that lay ahead. Greg awoke before Trish and took a shower and shaved. He was just finishing up when his dearest woke up too.

he greeted her.

she replied,

he smiled inwardly.

she asked enthusiastically.

Greg promised.

They took the green line tram to the Beethovenhalle where the conference would take place. Greg walked to the registration desk and introduced himself to the coordinator.

“Good morning, I’m here to confirm my attendance for the EuroSolar Alternative Energy Conference,” Greg announced.

“Indeed Sir, may I see your identification please?” the precise gentleman at the desk asked. Greg handed over his driver’s licence and passport, which were scanned and copied.

“Ahhhh, Doktor Howard. It is a pleasure to meet you finally. Your paper on combined and hybrid systems is one of our major discussion points this year. May we be so bold as to ask you to sit on the panel for that group? It’s on the twenty fourth.” Greg was taken slightly aback but answered smoothly,

“I’d be pleased and most honoured to sit on the panel. I had no idea that one of my papers was a talking point at the conference. I’ll have to get onto the net and download my notes from home, but I’m sure it will be no problem. I wanted to check in today and I’m looking forward the opening speech on the twentieth. I had planned to do a little sightseeing today and tomorrow, so any messages can be left for me care of the Domicil. Is that all right, or will you need an advance copy of my notes?” Greg delved for clarification of the protocol.

“No, I’m sure everything will be fine, thank you Herr Doktor. We’ll send your conference package to your hotel,” Klaus Neubauer responded.

“Well then, good morning and I look forward to the panel,” Greg smiled and shook the director’s hand.

Greg left the hall and took another tram to a random address close to the outer edge of the city. He walked for another half an hour and then ducked into a heavily wooded area along the roadside.

she cheered.

The hood flowed up from the black suit and the gloves slipped into place. Shadowknight was ready to go. Greg focused the lifters and shot into the sky.

Trish reported.

Greg commented.

was all she replied.

They kept their speed well under 1223.1 kilometres per hour so as not to cause any sonic events and reached the location in approximately half an hour. Greg had his first look at the crater and was angered and shocked that this could really have happened. The beacon they’d followed was not evident anywhere on the surface of the mountain. He scanned the surrounding area.

he noted.

They landed within five metres of the supposed entrance. It was devilishly hidden and they ended up tripping over what should have been loose stone but was actually camouflaged steel.

she glanced around.

Greg wanted to know.

Trish was nervous,

Greg touched the panel and felt the door activate. It unlocked with a clang and swung inwards. They walked inside and the door closed behind them. Lights flickered on and a long corridor slanting downwards was revealed. As they walked, Greg noted the lights behind them shut off as they passed by.

she reported.

They walked for another 15 minutes and reached what appeared to be an elevator. Scanning revealed no power with the car at the bottom of the shaft. Prying open the doors, they descended to the top of the car and in through the hatch. Adjusting their vision for low light and infrared, they opened the elevator doors.

To Be Continued

They walked for another 15 minutes and reached what appeared to be an elevator. Scanning revealed no power with the car at the bottom of the shaft. Prying open the doors, they descended to the top of the car and in through the hatch. Adjusting their vision for low light and infrared, they opened the elevator doors.

They had expected damage, but what they encountered was too organized to be caused by an accidental explosion or even secondary detonations. Charges had been placed with precision and forethought. Greg took in the scene with a low whistle.

“‘Only imperial storm troopers are this accurate’. This was a well-planned raid.”
His voice echoed eerily through the wrecked chamber.

Trish exclaimed.

He considered this for a moment.

she responded crisply.

They made short work of the obstruction and Greg was once again in awe of the power he had been granted. Ten men working for an hour couldn’t have done what they did in ten minutes. They broke open the panel and found the mains then they poured a small amount of power into the system and waited.

he directed. This time, there was a dim flicker and Trish tracked the activity to a vault 250 metres below them. Scanning the area, she discovered what looked like a closet door. They opened it and discovered only janitorial supplies.

he asked suspiciously.

Trish responded.

He stepped fully inside and pulled the door shut. The back of the closet slid aside revealing an elevator cab. It was small, but lit. They got in and the door slid shut as the cab started its descent. The cab opened onto a hallway that showed some damage and brown stains on the walls.

she paused.

Greg cautioned.

Trish assured him.

They edged down the corridor and encountered the source of the blood. On the floor was a corpse dressed in black assault gear with a Glock machine pistol clutched in its hand. Greg checked the gun and found that its magazine had been emptied and the assailant had a gaping wound in his chest. There was a trail of dried blood leading in the direction that they were investigating, so they continued along the corridor with extreme caution and found the other combatant. Trish gasped in horror.

she declared incredulously.

Greg glanced around.

Trish replied worriedly.

They crept along further until they were faced with a steel door of immense proportions and no evident way of opening it. Trish retracted a glove and changed their hand to hers. Reaching up, she tentatively laid her palm flat on its shining surface. They heard the sound of heavy bolts withdrawing and the door swung smoothly inwards with a low hum. The vault’s interior was well lit and ventilated, and reminded Greg of a ‘clean room’. They entered cautiously and looked around. This room appeared to have survived intact. Greg surveyed the layout.

he pointed at them. Trish recognised where he was going.

she re-iterated. They got the control circuit to switch to back-up power and heard the rumble of generators starting up from somewhere in the complex above. The rooms lighting dimmed momentarily then brightened, the comforting hum of the big mainframes filling the air.

there was doubt in her mental tone,

she advised.

Greg confirmed.

They went back up to the main level, which had benefited from the back-up generators as well; there was now some air circulation and light. Still, it took them over an hour to find an untouched supply room and luckily, all the door had securing it was a basic mechanical locking mechanism. Greg quickly pulled it off its hinges and placed it to one side. The room was jammed with parts of all descriptions and sizes and he was astounded that this room had been overlooked.

he asked.

Greg worked his way to the box through the packed shelving and noticed that almost all of the equipment was labelled similarly.

he sounded intrigued. They lifted the box and took it out into the hall. Greg pulled the lid off and Trish let out a gasp.

she proclaimed excitedly.

Greg took a closer look at the terminal.

He whistled,

Greg was seriously impressed.

Trish willingly agreed. They had to go back into the storeroom and dig for the fuel cells to power the unit, but were rewarded with a lit screen and a boot sequence. The screen then displayed a symbol that looked like a rotating pyramid and a stylized letter ‘S’. There was also a palm plate on the console and several touch points.

Greg wondered.

Trish reasoned.

Greg placed his hand flat on the plate and found himself looking at Professor Saber for the second time in his life.

“Whoa…” Greg spoke aloud in his momentary surprise.

Trish rejoined.

“Hello Gregory, Tricia…” the avatar greeted them. “Please standby… network resources are curiously low. I have accessed my protected backups. Are you physically at my retreat?” the Professor inquired.

“Um, yes Sir, we were investigating…” Greg began but the Professor cut him short.

“What is the date and time please Solomon… Solomon? Oh dear… this isn’t good,” the Professor took on a worried tone.

“It’s April 15th, 2009, just past noon local time Professor…” Greg interjected.

“I see… my backups end rather abruptly on December 26th, 2008 at 9:00am local time,” the avatar frowned.

“We discovered that a circuit failed to activate the backup power in your vault, so we re-engaged the generators about an hour ago. Is there any surveillance of the day in question?” asked Greg.

remarked Trish excitedly.

“A very astute observation, my Dear, I patterned the backup systems AI on myself, though not having Solomon available is very disturbing,” worried the Professor.

“Wait a minute,” Greg demanded, “you can hear Trish? Are you tapped into the PNE or our brain?”

“Please relax Gregory, I’m not in your head, but the PNE network is connected so I can ‘hear’ my daughter, so-to-speak. I can see that I never did get to send you the equipment I had earmarked for you, but now it seems it was for the best,” the avatar spoke soothingly. “Could you try to find a component in the storeroom marked J-9658 please, it will vastly simplify your task here.”

Trish located the box and opened it. It contained what looked like a simple ornamental badge. It was triangular and had three equal triangles of color defining it. It appeared to be three dimensional but was incredibly thin and flat.

“Gregory, may I ask you a question?” queried the avatar.

“OK… but what should I call you Sir?” Greg responded.

“Oh, Professor is fine Son. Tell me, what is that garment you’re wearing? Aside from your hands and face, you are invisible to all of my active scanners,” he sounded curiously impressed.

“Uh,” Greg began, “this was actually inspired by you, Professor. We call it the Adaptive Camouflage Matrix or ACM for short. We got tired of… um… destroying clothing during training, so we came up with this secondary suit that can be any kind of clothing we need for any situation and that is still tough enough to stand up to battle conditions. And, well… this is actually its first field test,” his narrative ground to a halt.

“Why, that’s brilliant Son! It’s wired into your systems?” the avatar was beaming with pride. Greg actually blushed and was at a loss for words. The mind of the greatest scientist the world had seen since Einstein was praising him! Had called him Son! Trish realized Greg was having an emotional moment and quickly shifted them to her form. The ACM adapted automatically.

“Sorry Daddy, Greg isn’t used to a lot of praise. Though he handles himself well in mission situations, he’s just not used to having a family yet. He is a darling though. So, to answer your question, yes, it wires directly into the network. It requires a high level of computing power to work,” she covered smoothly.

“Hmm, well my dear, is it possible to patch the J-9658 unit into your ACM please?” the avatar asked. “It will link you to this terminal and allow you some freedom of movement while keeping in touch with me.” Trish placed the badge on her right shoulder and directed the bugs to link it to the ACM and network systems. It blended into the battle suit like a shoulder flash and started transmitting and receiving immediately. By this time, Greg had regained his composure and immediately got back into the spirit of things.

he apologized.

Greg deferred.

“A very tactful decision, Greg, you’re everything I’d quite imagined you’d be… except for your shyness,” the Professor grinned. “I didn’t see that one coming. Now Trish, we need to go to upper level 4, room 13-A. It was not as well shielded as the backup vault, but there still might be some hope,” the avatar directed them.

The elevator was damaged but they managed to hotwire it. The doors opened on another scene of devastation. There were several more bodies lying about in the hallways and the walls and ceiling were riddled with bullet holes. They found 13-A and saw that the door had been cut open with a torch.

Greg said.

“I’d have to agree with you Gregory,” replied the Professor. “There’s not much left intact in the room itself, however, if you would please go to the south wall, there should be a pressure plate disguised as an outlet there. Press it please Tricia.” Trish did so and the wall grumbled slowly aside. They found themselves looking at a smaller version of the vault room in the basement.

“Well, well… it appears they missed this part of the room,” clucked the Professor, “but the systems all seem quiescent. I must have given Solomon the autodestruct command which would’ve caused him to wipe this system, himself included.”

“Oh no Daddy! Not Solomon!” Trish wailed.

“Don’t fret Dear Heart, it’s not permanent. But I’ll need to work with Gregory for a while,” said the Professor calmly. Trish shifted back and Greg waited to hear what the Professor had in mind.

“As you may have gathered Greg, I had this complex built mostly by Solomon’s servomechs. I am pretty good with software, but I’m not the greatest of network engineers,” he paused. “Still, there should be a diagnostic program running in the system. I need you to locate and repair the break in the fibre-optic cable between here and the backup vault. There should be a repair kit on one of the mechs in the other room. Activate the diagnostic system from the left panel,” he instructed.

Greg got the diagnostic running and it pinpointed the damage almost exactly to where he thought it would be… where the concentration of gunfire had occurred. With toolkit in hand, Greg walked to the battle scene and activated his lifters. Although the diagnostic only noted the first break, Greg discovered several others. With the Professor’s guidance, they worked backwards from the vault end of the cable and about an hour later, Greg sealed the final filament and drifted back down to the floor.

“Step one finished. Now we can see if the system will reload after several months without power,” Greg said, shaking his head.

“Patience Son, there are multiple redundancies built into these systems,” the Professor replied.

Greg returned to 13-A and walked back to the console. He re-ran the diagnostic and was pleased to see that the connection was sound. He followed the Professor’s instructions and started the reload sequence. He watched in fascination, he had not performed a mainframe reload since he had worked for Sears some two decades ago. A few of messages were familiar while others baffled him completely. The Professor was really quite a genius at programming.

“Do you see this Trish?” Greg pointed to the screens. “Hestia would have a ball in this system.” Trish chuckled at the thought, but the Professor cleared his throat before she could comment.

“Hestia? Who is Hestia, Tricia?” he inquired.

Trish responded.

Trish finished proudly.

“Please, I meant no disrespect to you or Gregory, Darling. I just did not understand who you were talking about. I was afraid that someone outside our family might be vulnerable to the evil at work. I didn’t want an innocent on my conscience.” Greg snorted as he watched for error messages.

“I understand your point Professor, I had quite a shock myself when I discovered I suddenly had acquired a teenage daughter, but I will never let any harm come to her.”

“I’m glad to hear that Gregory. I knew I was right to choose you as my heir. Aaah, the system is rebooting, we’ll know in a moment whether we still have the old man with us or not,” the Professor sounded slightly hopeful. The system whirred and there was a pause… then a deep voice spoke.

“Please identify yourself, you have one minute until countermeasures are activated.”

“Saber AI backup system 96587,” rattled the Professor.

“Gregory Howard with TriCa,” Greg responded.

“Saber AI accepted. Howard, Gregory. Please place your right hand on the scan plate,” directed the computerized voice. Greg did so and felt a strange two-way tingle, up then back down, inside his arm.

“TriCa presence confirmed, host identity confirmed, countermeasures deactivated. Where is the Professor?” The deep voice had lost all of its menace and sounded concerned.

Trish shifted back to her own form and nodded.

“If I may, Father?” she asked courteously.

“Of course, you do have more current information,” the Professor agreed.

“Solomon, what data do you have available beyond 26/12/08 0900 GMT +1?” Trish inquired.

“Null input,” the sonorous voice replied. Trish then contacted her daughter.

“Hestia? Uplink and download all collected newsfeed and data from 25/12/08 to present. Thank you Dear. Solomon, interface with netfiles 01/09/08-15/04/09,” she commanded. Placing her hand on the interface, Trish waited. Solomon linked and absorbed the data. There was silence for several moments.

“Accepted, correlated. It seems we were attacked and you were kidnapped by mercenary forces Professor. I also find several databanks are tomb-stoned so I assume that you ordered a destruct sequence? I will attempt data recovery. Gregory Howard, please locate my servomechanisms and replace their fuel cells, then enter the following numeric to each one -777ec856. Please right any that are turtled and bring the non-functional units to the outer room for repair or recycling.” It seemed more of a command than a request.

Uh… I copy, location of the fuel cell storage please, Greg responded.

“Main level, room 9-B,” said Solomon.

Trish righted the three machines in the outer room and took the elevator to the main floor. Room 9-B turned out to be the same room they had discovered earlier. They moved the Professor’s terminal out of the way and took the cells, which were about the size and shape of light-sticks, with them. They went to the backup vault and saw to the door. Then they righted the lone defender, popped out its spent cell and replaced it with a fresh one. Trish typed in the code and watched as it collected the body of its assailant and exited through a panel in the wall. The next two machines collected several cells and went to locate their brethren within the servo transit-ways. Four of the mechs wouldn’t power up, so Trish flagged them for repair or recycle and finished her search. The three in the office of 13-A were the last she was able to locate, so she reactivated them and left the remaining fuel cells where they could be found. Satisfied, she returned to the secondary office just in time to see surveillance of the attack.

“Oh Goddess! Those men would have killed anything human other than the Professor!” her hand flew to her mouth in shock.

“Your assessment is essentially correct Young One. The casual disregard for life and property caused the Professor to first unleash the mechs of the safety protocols, and then order the destruct sequence. All communications and monitoring were cut off from your siblings, which caused a malfunction in the neural bonding of The SIX. It is my belief that the neural bond has not been completed with their hosts. I do not know if their bonding can be repaired,” Solomon intoned ominously.

To Be Continued

“Your assessment is essentially correct Young One. The casual disregard for life and property caused the Professor to first unleash the mechs of the safety protocols, and then order the destruct sequence. All communications and monitoring were cut off from your siblings, which caused a malfunction in the neural bonding of The SIX. It is my belief that the neural bond has not been completed with their hosts. I do not know if their bonding can be repaired,” Solomon intoned ominously.

Trish let out a gasp.

“Are the others… dead? I thought they would have blended with their hosts… but how is it possible when Greg and I…” she began to sob but the Professor quickly interrupted her.

“Darling Tricia, of all of the Sabers, you are unique. Your physio-neural enhancement suit contained your complete essence. With the others, there had to be a constant transmission updating their programming from the base. However, when the attack occurred, that flow of information stopped abruptly. Had the neural rebuilding been further along in The SIX, your brothers and sisters might have been able to ride along in their hosts’ brains, but I see that by the time the hosts’ brains were ready, we were already offline here. I fear it may not be possible to restart the update processes.”

Trish pounded on the wall until a dent appeared in the steel.

“Oh Goddess! Then, they’re all gone!” she continued her tirade. The Professor was quick to reassure her.

“Tricia, they can never be gone, we have full backups of them. They can be reactivated as soon as we have full systems capacity. No, what worries me is that The SIX have no restraining influences. Sudbury proved that. We will have to depend on the hope that the beings that I chose as hosts are good and intelligent people. The only way to complete the bonding of The SIX and their others is to connect them physically to the network here. That will be difficult, as we are most likely under some form of passive observation by the person or persons that initiated the attack and took me away,” he finished.

Then Greg spoke up.

Pardon me, Professor… could we possibly set up some sort of remote facility that isn’t under such close surveillance?

“Well Gregory that had been a part of my long term plans that were, it seems, interrupted,” the Professor said wryly. “I was going to ask you to set up a facility on that island of yours. That’s why all this equipment was earmarked for your AERI.”

But now the AERI is under discreet surveillance as well… Greg pondered for a moment.

“Well, that should be no problem, we can relay a tight beam signal to… was it Hestia? She can accept delivery to the AERI proper of a containerized cargo module. It can be brought in by helicopter,” the Professor started planning, “ and we will have to work through intermediaries. You’ve managed to keep a low profile, so a delivery to a research station would not be questioned. We’ll send equipment and servomechs to dig a vault into the bedrock of Franklin Island and install a new base station there. It will improve Hestia’s quality of life as well,” he reasoned.

Hang on… wait… wait a minute Professor, you’re suggesting that we create a secret base on Franklin Island, discreetly? Just how subtle can hard rock excavation actually be? Greg asked in disbelief.

“Gregory Howard, this facility was constructed over the course of three years without anyone knowing. The only evidence of habitation was the Professor’s house on the mountainside,” Solomon spoke up.

“I think what Solomon is trying to say is that until last December, no one knew anything about the manufactory. I have a feeling we were betrayed by the law firm I had to engage on occasion, which could be a good place to begin your investigations Tricia. Gregory may we have your permission to begin relocation to your island?” the Professor asked formally.

Um… may I discuss this in private with my wife please Professor? Greg pleaded.

“By all means Gregory, I will cut our linkage, just speak aloud when you wish to re-establish communications,” the Professor complied.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief as he considered how to approach his beloved with the concerns he had about this plan of action. They seemed dangerously close to drawing attention to themselves and now to Hestia as well… something he had vowed never to do.

Greg’s thoughts were strained with genuine concern.

she replied.

Greg drew a deep breath,

Greg completed his line of reasoning.

she said encouragingly.

Greg cheered up a little.

Trish listed her ideas.

Greg smiled gently.

she continued,

she finished forcefully. Greg thought for a moment.

he asked.

Trish chuckled.

They exchanged forms again and Greg spoke up.

“Professor, Solomon, we’ve come up with a plan that will increase the safety margin considerably, however, this is a completely non-negotiable point, do you understand?” Greg was all business and his tone of voice brooked no compromise.

“Please continue Gregory,” invited the Professor.

“Awaiting input,” responded the machine in kind. Greg outlined the plan he and Trish had worked out and overall, the AIs agreed with the logic of it. The only sticking point seemed to be the fact that he required Hestia to be in charge of operations.

“Look guys, it’s really very simple, if and when Trish and I bring the Professor physically back to the AERI, I will require Hestia to relinquish command to him, but until then, she’s in charge. I will not argue with you on this point. In theory, as the only fully functional physio-neural bond, we are effectively in the position of field commander here. Do you agree? Understand that the whole plan hinges on this point,” Greg lectured.

“Agreed Gregory, this is a combat operation after all,” the Professor’s AI conceded.

“Your logic is sound. We will cooperate,” Solomon also agreed. Greg left the AIs to work out the details and financing of the relocation and opened a secure link to Hestia.

Greg reached out with his thoughts.

she reported.

Greg hesitated.

she chirped happily.

he informed her.

Greg instructed his daughter.

she replied.

Greg let Trish and Hestia talk and breathed a heavy sigh as he sat down against a wall. He ran his hand across his face and shut his eyes. This was wearing him out, and although he thought he had gotten used to surprises, this one really took the blue ribbon. The Professor and Solomon were arguing about the fusion plants in the background and all he wanted to do was become a hermit again. But he couldn’t do that anymore and still have Trish as well, and she had become his life. He opened his eyes again.

“Professor?” he began.

“Yes Gregory?” came the reply.

“I need a piece of land nearby, remote enough that I can fly the containers into but accessible by road and rail, an old lumberyard or sawmill would be ideal. Can you arrange that?” he asked.

“I think so… there is a nearby town called Biel that seems to have the facilities you require,” said the Professor.

“No third parties, no lawyers, just purchase it electronically in the AERI’s name,” Greg instructed. “Let them think I’m setting up a second research centre if you need to. If you have an alternate ID, use that. I wish absolutely no connections with the Saber facilities. Secrecy is our maxim,” Greg spoke determinedly.

“Consider it done. The servomechs will have the bulk of the facility packed by the 22nd. You will be able to transport the containers to the site that night,” the AI responded.

“I’ll leave it in your hands then. Make sure the mechs constructing the containers make them look well used, and don’t forget the customs documents. I’ll need access to Professor Saber’s funds to arrange the transport, but I feel confident that you’ll be ‘digging in’ by the middle of next month.”

“’Digging in’? That was a very hideous pun Gregory,” the Professor retorted.

“So sue me, I’m very tired,” Greg shrugged.

“I haven’t yet had the chance to thank you for what you’ve done for my family Gregory. I look forward to meeting you in person someday soon Son.”

“And I look forward to thanking you for allowing me to have Trish in my life someday too, Professor. Right now, we have to get back to Bonn and eat. My systems are at 35 percent and I’m exhausted,” Greg yawned mightily.

“Keep the icon I gave you,” the AI offered. “It’ll allow me to send the details of the land transfers to you and Tricia. Get some rest Son, you’ve earned it,” smiled the Professor paternally.

“Thanks Prof. Oh and next time Solomon wants to try and invade Hestia's systems, have him introduce himself, at least buy her dinner, my daughter is a lady, as is yours,” Greg snapped. The Professor just chuckled and signed off.

Trish cheered.

Trish assured him.

he sighed.

Greg didn’t wake up until 11:00am on the 16th, and he felt relaxed but vaguely worried about something.

he inquired sleepily.

He shook his head.

she responded with amusement,

Greg snorted and looked over at the chair where the ACM was draped. He didn’t remember removing it.

she smiled.

Greg raised an eyebrow.

she filled him in.

Greg wheedled.

she asked wickedly.

Greg replied innocently.

Trish pulled on the ACM and sealed it in its non-combat form. Grabbing some cash and credit cards, they stepped out of their room and ducked into a stairwell.

she grinned.

Trish took the pattern of one of the Lufthansa flight attendants they had sampled and quickly transformed them. With the physical transformation taken care of she directed the ACM to become a fashionable skiing outfit, more suited to the chalet than the slopes. They walked toward the elevator bank and caught one to the lobby. Greg glanced into the mirror and saw what they had become. The woman was just under 182 centimetres tall and proportioned like a small Amazon. She was quite beautiful and very blonde.

Greg gave a low wolf-whistle.

he teased.

he promised. Greg complied quickly but when he glanced back at the mirror, he saw that Trish had somehow made up their face.

she sounded proud.

he joshed her.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby and Trish gave a small start. There at the hotelier’s desk was a face she recognised immediately. Monsieur Richard DeLongiles was speaking with the desk clerk. Trish focussed her ears and picked up the conversation mid-sentence.

“…ring his room, one moment please” the Concierge replied.

“Merci.” DeLongiles did not look pleased to be there.

“I’m sorry Sir but there is no answer from Doctor Howard’s room,” said the desk clerk.

“Fine, may I leave this envelope for him please?” growled DeLongiles.

“Certainly Sir, I will give it to him when I see him. Is there anything else I can help you with?” the clerk inquired formally.

“No, merci. Just see that Doctor Howard gets the envelope,” DeLongiles answered brusquely then turned and stalked from the desk towards the exit. Trish followed him into the street at a discreet distance.

she thought casually.

Greg questioned.

Trish offered.

DeLongiles turned into a nearby cafe and they followed. Greg spotted where he had been seated and asked Trish to have the waiter seat them directly opposite. They ordered Café Complet and sipped delicately at the cappuccino while making subtle eye contact with DeLongiles. They had definitely gotten his attention as he swept his eyes up and down their form. He looked at his watch and then at the entrance. He was expecting someone… good. Trish refocussed her hearing to his table, filtering out the ambient noise. A familiar form passed Trish and recognised Natalia Ravensclaw immediately.

mused Trish.

Greg countered.

she hushed him. Natalia had seated herself and ordered coffee.

“Did you see him?” she sneered.

“Howard? No, he wasn’t in his room. I left the envelope as per your instructions, Ms. Ravensclaw. I really shouldn’t be here… I don’t fully trust Johnson to handle the PMO,” he said nervously.

“Quiet Dear and quit drooling over that blonde bimbo. Yes, I saw you,” Natalia purred dangerously. “You may fly out today, I have a personal interest in the dear doctor.” DeLongiles grimaced.

“Your father would not like your ‘personal interest’,” he reminded the young woman.

“And just how might he find out dear Richard? You’d be wise to remember your place and the power it currently affords you. Doctor Howard is my… project now,” she warned him.

“Have they found out anything from that Professor?” DeLongiles asked.

“Hush Dear, not in public please and no, not yet. Daddy is reluctant to use more … effective methods on the man. I just hope our Gregory is somewhat more tractable,” her smile was pure poison.

“Well then, Ms. Ravensclaw, I must run. There is more silly talk in Ottawa about easing the marijuana laws in Canada, and we cannot risk having happier and more relaxed citizens now, can we?” he smiled wanly.

“No indeed M. DeLongiles, no indeed. Farewell and,” Natalia paused, “don’t even think of going over my head on this or you just might find that my name is not the only thing with claws.” DeLongiles paled visibly and rose to leave. He cast one more longing look at Trish and exited the restaurant. Ravensclaw just chuckled and finished her coffee. Trish was shaken by the conversation, but she hid it well. She finished her breakfast and signalled the waiter for the bill.

Trish worried.

Greg reasoned.

said Trish,

he agreed.

They paid the check and went to the powder room, and began the transformation while ducking into the men’s room. Soon Greg was looking at himself in the mirror but not for long. He was slightly nervous as he’d never initiated a full transform before, but finding the correct file, he simply initiated it and voila! It felt very different this time as he took note of the process.

Trish chided.

He relaxed slightly and the process became automatic. Soon he was looking at Ed Page in the mirror, he lengthened the hair slightly and grew a days worth of fashionable stubble. Pleased with the result, he smiled and changed the ACM to a casual Armani suit. A spritz of cologne from the counter and he was done. Exiting the rest room, he walked through the restaurant and took a seat at the bar. After ordering a double shot of espresso, he casually glanced around the room. Natalia seemed interested and caught his eyes. He raised an eyebrow as she signalled him to join her at the table.

“Buon Giorno, Bellísima…” he greeted Natalia.

“Buon Giorno, Caro. And how are you this fine day?”

“I am… how you do say…” Greg affected unfamiliarity with English, “Spectacular? after meeting such a lovely flower. I am being Guillermo Setizi at your service.” Greg contrived to bow over her hand, a difficult thing from a seated position, but somehow made it look easy.

gibed Trish.

“You are being very charming, Guillermo. I am Natalia Ravensclaw.”

“The…uh how do you say… pleasure is yours?” Natalia smiled at that.

“Something like that,” she purred. “Would you show a lady around town?”

“Ah, yes please,” Greg stood and offered his hand. Natalia took it and rose sensuously. He applauded.

“Brava!” Greg helped her on with her full-length fur though he was disgusted just handling it, or her for that matter, he realised.

she tittered.

he shuddered inwardly.

she mimicked.

Greg mock growled.

Greg paid the tab and escorted Natalia from the restaurant into the street.

“Where would you like to see, Bella?” his smile was all sunshine.

“My hotel is nice…” Natalia suggested. Greg felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

asked Trish.

“Ahhhh, Caramissa, you joke on Guillermo…” Greg managed. Her smile was that of a predator.

“No joke Handsome, let’s see what you’re made of,” she licked her lips invitingly and dragged Greg into the Hilton and up to her room.

To Be Continued

“Ahhhh, Caramissa, you joke on Guillermo…” Greg managed. Her smile was that of a predator.

“No joke Handsome, let’s see what you’re made of,” Natalia licked her lips invitingly and dragged Greg into the Hilton and up to her room.

An hour and a half later, Greg feigned exhaustion and pretended to fall asleep. He kept his ears open and remained ready for anything. Natalia had been ready for another round, but Greg was far too disgusted by everything this woman was to even consider that. He heard her muttering under her breath about lack of stamina and how easily she had bagged this one. Natalia picked up the phone and placed a long distance call to New York City. He tightened his hearing to get both ends of the conversation.

“Hi Daddy, scramble please,” she said into the phone. There was a squeal and the sound took on a distinctly hollow quality.

“Hello Natalia darling, how are things proceeding in Germany?” answered the male voice at the other end.

“Well Daddy, Doctor Howard wasn’t in when DeLongiles went there today. Though I should be able to make contact with dear Doctor Howard later this evening,” she purred.

“Excellent, Young Lady, you are everything a father could hope for in a child. I hope you can make better progress with Howard than we are with Saber. His scheme for free power threatens us in ways we simply cannot calculate. That vehicle of his slipped by before we even knew he was a problem,” the man growled.

“I’ll take care of Howard, Daddy, but why is the old man so difficult?” she asked.

“He somehow manages to put himself into some sort of trance whenever we interrogate him. All we get is nonsense from him, even when we use drugs,” there was a hint of stress in the voice.

“Wouldn’t it just be simpler to eliminate him?” Natalia was honestly puzzled.

“No Darling, we have to find out his connection to The SIX and what he knows of their weaknesses,” he explained as if to a child. “The old fool wiped his computers before we could access them and destroyed his entire base. I don’t understand how he could have accomplished so much on his own. If it were not for Herr Gertz in Switzerland, we never have would even have known the base existed. The man is a devil,” he spat angrily.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck Daddy,” Natalia said breezily, “and don’t worry about the Doctor, he’s well in hand.”

“Thank you Daughter,” the man sighed. “Oh, by the way, your doctor has purchased a piece of land near Biel, Switzerland. We don’t know what for, but we don’t want another working alternative energy lab in existence. Find out what you can and report to the Geneva office. I love you Natalia,” the man ended dismissively.

“Love you too Daddy, bye,” she replied. There was a click and the buzz of an open circuit when Natalia hung up the phone. She walked to the hotel bathroom and started the shower.

Trish replied with urgency.

Greg responded.

The bathroom door opened and Natalia walked out. She dressed and quickly left them there alone.

Trish thought. They got up and quickly dressed. Greg sent Guillermo back to storage in a new file, in case they needed the stud again. Trish quickly exchanged with him.

Greg asked.

Trish advised him.

They went to the building’s rooftop and Trish changed the ACM to flight mode. Glancing quickly around, she shot from the roof to a ceiling of 1500 metres and headed for Geneva.

An hour and a half later she landed in a quiet park by the lake and shifted her appearance to that of Natalia Ravensclaw. She walked to a phone booth and looked up the address of Herr Gerhardt Gertz.

Greg whined.

Trish smiled.

She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of the offices of Gerhardt Gertz, attorney of laws and letters. The cabbie pulled up to the plaza of an impressive glass office tower and Trish paid the 8 Euro fare, exiting without tipping. That cabbie would certainly remember darling Natalia. They entered and walked confidently to the elevators. She rode to the 17th floor and exited directly into the reception of Gertz and Associates. The receptionist looked up and then did a double take.

“Oh, Ms. Ravensclaw, what an honour, we weren’t expecting you,” she squeaked.

“Never mind the formalities, is Gerhardt in? We need to talk,” Trish commanded.

“I’ll let him know that you’re here. Would you like some coffee, wine?” the receptionist fawned.

“Coffee is fine, thank you,” Trish responded frostily. Just then, a middle-aged man in a very expensive suit strode into the reception area.

“Ms. Ravensclaw, it’s always a pleasure. I wasn’t aware that you were back on the continent. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Gerhardt Gertz was babbling.

“Business, Gerhardt darling. May we speak in your office?” It was more of a command than a request. Gertz glanced at his receptionist who was serving the coffee and nodded. He led Trish down a corridor to a large corner office with an excellent view of the bank towers of the city.

“Now, how can I help you?” Gertz inquired.

“I want all of your files on Professor Julian Saber. All the paper and all the data you have in the computers, all of it,” Trish commanded imperiously. She rested her hand lightly on his computer monitor and subtly absorbed all that it contained. Gertz’ smile weakened a fraction.

“And may I ask why?” he spoke tentatively.

“The New York office has decided it could be… damaging to you and to us if a connection to Saber was ever found here,” Trish smiled icily. “You wouldn’t want to be cast loose to the wolves, now would you? Don’t worry, your precious papers will be… safe,” she assured the businessman.

“Oh, I understand, thank you Ms. Ravensclaw,” Gertz said obsequiously. “I’ll just have the information packaged up for you.” Gertz left the room and Trish touched the phone, making sure a certain New York number was routed to her. Sure enough, there was a ring tone in her ear and she answered in Ravensclaw Senior’s voice.

“Yes.”

“Yes Sir, it’s Gertz in Geneva. Your daughter is here requesting the Saber files and data,” he said nervously.

“I know… I sent her. Why are you calling me?” Trish growled.

“I just thought it was strange that you never mentioned her visit when we talked earlier,” Gertz said with a hint of fear in his voice. Trish put steel into her imitation.

“Look Gertz, don’t you ever question my daughter or me again,” she shouted. “I may regret even considering you at all,” she threatened, abruptly disconnecting the call with a smile. The man would be nearly wetting himself by now. Gertz re-entered the room then, mopping his brow with his handkerchief. He was pale and trembling slightly.

“Ah… Ms. Ravensclaw…” he stammered. “The files are nearly ready, will there be anything else?”

“Yes, you are to destroy all copies you may have and erase all the pertinent data from your computers. No records except the ones I am taking with me should exist. And if you have a luggage dolly for the boxes, that would be appreciated,” she instructed while tapping the telephone for emphasis and smiling sweetly. Now Gertz looked like he was about to pass a brick.

“At once Madam Ravensclaw,” Gertz practically clicked his heels.

“And Gerhardt,” Trish paused for effect, “please don’t make me send in a clean up team.” The man practically bolted from the room. Trish sipped the coffee and waited. She didn’t have to wait long, she heard Gertz giving orders to his staff in the hallway.

“… all of it, I said! All the data on Saber and all the file copies, in fact, forget you ever heard the name Saber,” he shouted. The door opened and a slightly red-faced but more composed Gertz entered.

“Everything you require is waiting in the reception area Ms. Ravensclaw, if you’ll follow me?” he smarmed. He led her back to the waiting area and bowed over her hand.

“Again, always a pleasure, Ms. Ravensclaw, however, I must leave you now. I have a client waiting in the conference room, farewell.” He practically ran from the reception area and was gaining speed as he approached the corner. Trish simply smiled a cold smile for the receptionist who shuddered violently. She took the dolly and entered the elevator and as the doors were closing, she heard the receptionist muttering under her breath.

Greg applauded.

she sighed.

Greg responded.

she thought, trying to make light of the nasty situation.

he snorted,

Trish said,

Greg encouraged.

They took another taxi to the park, found a secluded spot and changed back to Trisha’s form. They were on their way to the former Saber Base in moments, carrying the document boxes easily. They were met at the emergency entrance by a servomech, who took the boxes and trundled off through a service entrance in the wall. By 7:00pm local time, they were back in Bonn and in a restaurant having dinner by 8:00.

Greg thought.

Trish subtly fixed her face behind the menu while Natalia breezed by.

Trish opined.

he smiled wickedly.

He sighed before answering.

he explained. They dined quietly while keeping an eye on Ms. Ravensclaw. Natalia grew increasingly agitated over the hour and a half they spent there, making several calls on her cell phone and having several drinks. She finally left at 10:30pm and Trish followed her. They trailed her back to the Domicil and watched her from the elevators as she harangued the desk clerk. Finally Natalia stormed out and Trish ducked into the stairwell. Greg exited and doubled round the lobby to the front desk.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor Howard from room 1218, I was expecting some information from the alternative energy conference, has it arrived?” he inquired calmly. The desk clerk regained his composure.

“Yes Sir, as well as an envelope and several messages. Here you are,” he said handing over a packet and a small bundle of notes.

“Thank you very much,” Greg smiled. “Please hold any outside calls fo me until after 9:00am. I’d like a wake up call at 8:00 and a breakfast tray at 8:30. Thank you, and have a good night.” He took the envelopes and the phone messages and went to the elevator. Shortly thereafter he was in his suite and he started by opening the larger envelope. It had his conference ID and the agenda as well as sign up forms for the various workshops on offer. He put it all aside and opened the envelope that DeLongiles had left that morning. Inside he found a note from Natalia as expected, with a dinner invitation, also as expected. All the various phone messages, save one, were from Natalia too. The other was from a realtor in Biel who needed some signatures for the land transfer to be completed. Greg made a note to follow up on that one tomorrow and discarded the rest. They were asleep by midnight.

The 8:00am wake up call came precisely on schedule and the breakfast tray arrived promptly at 8:30. Greg was dressed and ready to face his stalker by 9:30 and, sure enough, there was Natalia waiting to pounce on him as he exited the elevator.

“Why Gregory Howard,” she pouted, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“Heaven forefend Natalia, I received your messages last night around 11:30pm,” Greg said ingeniously. “I’m sorry I can’t be more available, but this is a business trip. You know, I have to save the world,” he answered light-heartedly.

he thought. She made a mock frown.

“Oh please, your silly conference doesn’t start until tomorrow, I checked,” she griped.

“I’m sorry Natalia but I have to catch the train to Biel to sign some paperwork on a piece of land I’m purchasing for AERI. No rest for the wicked, I guess,” he grinned wolfishly. He was sure she got little rest last night. She pouted at him again.

“Well… you call me as soon as you get back to Bonn Darling. I insist we have dinner tonight and no excuses. I don’t want to have to call in the army to pin you down,” she arched an eyebrow coyly.

“Alright, if you insist, but it may just have to be a late supper and unfortunately not a late night. The conference begins tomorrow morning,” he reminded her. Natalia grabbed him by the face and planted a long and sensuous kiss on his lips.

“That is just to make sure that you don’t forget about our date tonight. Farewell Dear Doctor, “ she murmured breathily. She turned and sashayed away leaving him quite speechless by the elevator doors. The lobby broke into applause as Natalia sauntered out the main doors. Trish made a sour sound.

she mimicked. Blech! Trish made a gagging noise.

Greg said incredulously.

Trish pointed out. Greg chuckled under his breath and walked out of the lobby, wiping Natalia’s lip-gloss off his mouth as he went. Since there was no real hurry today, they took the train to Bern and rented a car to drive to Biel. They arrived just after 1:00pm and parked at the realtor’s office. The 20-something woman inside introduced herself as Frauline Becker and shook his hand warmly.

“Good afternoon Herr Doktor. It is a pleasure to meet you finally, your intermediaries are nice enough on the telephone, but I do prefer to do business face-to- face,” she said pleasantly.

“As do I Frauline. I believe you have some papers for me to sign?” he inquired.

“Indeed Sir, your bank draft arrived yesterday and was in perfect order. All you have to do now is sign the deed and ownership transfer,” the young woman replied. Greg signed all of the required documents and she witnessed them.

“Wonderful now that the business is out of the way, I have a couple of questions. How do I arrange for a rail transfer of containers from the spur? I have made a rather large scientific purchase and have to ship several cargo boxes to the nearest port,” Greg began.

“Ah, there is a rail office in town that can arrange for the shipments you require. Will you be doing this very soon?” the young woman responded.

“Not for at least a week, Frauline. I understand that the land is far enough from the town proper that I shouldn’t cause too much of a disturbance.”

“True Herr Doktor, it is quite wooded, but still accessible by road and rail. I will make arrangements for the railway to clean up the spur and switch. It hasn’t been maintained since the mill closed six years ago,” she explained.

“I’d appreciate that Frauline Becker. Now, I think I’ll have a look at the property myself. May I ask you to accompany me? I need a local contact to put me in touch with demolitions contractors, construction companies, and the like. Perhaps I can buy you lunch afterwards?” Greg invited warmly. She returned his smile sunnily.

“I would be honoured Herr Doktor.”

They drove his rented BMW to the site of the former sawmill and Greg was pleased to see it had a high fence and secure locks on the gates from both the road and rail entrances.

“Pardon me Frauline but why was the mill closed?” Greg asked.

“There is a large environmental movement in Switzerland and the logging and mill were both endangering the old growth forests,” she explained, “I was part of the movement that helped close this place down. I’m rather proud of that fact even though Biel suffered a bit of a recession when the corporation moved on. I am even prouder that Biel will be home to the second AERI. There are many other people who will be happy about that fact as well,” she expounded.

“Uh-oh,” Greg joked, “so I’ve been spotted have I?”

“Herr Doktor Howard, I have followed your career for many years in Mother Jones magazine. It wasn’t hard to figure out,” she chided him.

“Please Frauline, call me Greg. I’m getting tired of all this honorific nonsense.” She smiled again, all sunshine.

“Only if you promise to call me Betina,” she bargained happily with him.

“Agreed then Betina,” he offered her his arm “Now let’s take a look at AERIE, the new home of the Alternative Energy Research Institute, Europe,” Greg urged.

To Be Continued

“Please Frauline, call me Greg. I’m getting tired of all this honorific nonsense.” She smiled again, all sunshine.

“Only if you promise to call me Betina,” she bargained happily with him.

“Agreed then Betina,” he offered her his arm “Now let’s take a look at AERIE, the new home of the Alternative Energy Research Institute, Europe,” Greg urged.

Greg and Betina spent the next 2 hours pleasantly exploring the property and buildings. It was pretty in a lonely sort of way, with the winter birds singing and chattering in the trees. Greg decided that aside from the mill itself, the rest of the warehousing and outbuildings were still solid. Cleaned up and repaired, they would make fine manufactories for the wind power project and would help the local economy at the same time. He glanced over at the young woman and made a decision.

“Betina,” he said, “I need a solid person who is a friend of the environment to be my representative here. Do you know of anyone who might fit the bill and want the job?”

Her eyes widened.

“Are you serious Greg? I really don’t like my job with the realtor, but I must eat you know. I’d take the job in a flash, but don’t you need a lawyer or something?” she asked breathlessly.

“Well I’d really prefer someone that cares enough about the planet rather than someone who cares only about the law. Could you take the job?” Greg smiled warmly. Trish was startled, to say the least.

Trish protested.

Greg answered Trish’s concern candidly.

she admonished him.

Greg explained.

“You do understand Betina, I’ll have to have a security check run before I can hire you, as I work very closely with governments and such, but I think you’ll pass. The job is yours if you want it. Handshake now with contract to follow shortly,” he held out his hand toward her but she actually squealed, jumped up and hugged him tightly instead.

“Oh yes Doktor! I accept! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Betina erupted in a whirl of excitement.

“Now Dear, be careful,” he grinned, “I’m old and I might break in half. The job has certain benefits, which will include living on site in a house of similar design to my own in Canada and a generous remuneration and benefits package. But I do expect you to be responsible for overseeing all operations here as well as the hiring of like-minded people to yourself,” Greg continued more seriously.

“Yes Doktor, I can do this,” she was trying her hardest to contain her exuberance and appear quite serious.

“Betina, if I ever hear you call me doctor again, the deal is off. Doc is OK, but Greg is preferred,” he enjoined good humouredly. Betina’s grin was like a solar flare.

“OK Doc,” she acquiesced impishly.

“Cheeky girl,” he teased, “now let’s get down to business. I want you to arrange an auction of the materials on the site for two weeks from now, but certainly take a couple of days to wrap up your old job, and please arrange for three flatbed container rail cars to be on site in three days. My transport team will handle the loading and I will contact you from the conference by the twenty first, OK?” he asked.

“Yes Boss,” she giggled, “and here I thought it was going to be a good day because of the commission I was making on the sale of this land.”

They drove back into the city and after a late lunch, Greg drew several drafts from the AERI accounts for Betina’s use. He left at 5:00pm that day after getting her started on setting up a small office in town.

“You’re to handle the rental and equipment needs Betina and you can reach me at the Best Western Domicil in Bonn,” he instructed. “You’ll have thirty thousand Euros to use, but remember to keep all the receipts. If you need to reach me at the hotel, use the code word Roxanne, as in ‘Roxanne is calling’. I seem to have acquired a stalker in Bonn and I want to keep my personal affairs private. Have a good weekend and keep in touch.”

“Tag Herr Doc. Have a safe trip,” Betina hugged him goodbye.

Greg drove the car back to Bern thoroughly enjoying the trip.

he thought fondly to her.

she smiled inwardly. Greg was so startled that he momentarily lost control of the car.

He was naturally oblivious when it came to this sort of thing.

she smiled again.

Trish intimated. They both had a great laugh over that and before he knew it, they were boarding the train for Bonn.

Greg had a nap while Trish enjoyed the rushing scenery. All too soon, they were arriving in Bonn and facing a dinner date they couldn’t avoid. They took the tram to the Domicil and went up to the room for a shower. It was 9:00pm when he finally faced the situation and dialled Natalia.

“Good evening Natalia, I hope it’s not too late to call?” asked Greg.

“Greg Darling,” she purred sensuously, “why it’s wonderful to hear you. I’d rather thought I’d been stood up… again. Where would you like to go?”

“Now Natalia, last night was an accident,”

he thought.

“I was rather hoping to sample a chophouse, if that’s agreeable with you,” he suggested.

“Oh you, I was just teasing. A chophouse would be fine and I believe there’s one not too far from your hotel,” Natalia replied laughingly. Trish snorted her amusement.

“I know the one. I’ll meet you there in 10 minutes, OK?” he asked.

“Wonderful Darling, see you soonest.” Natalia was all feigned exuberance and Greg felt like gagging.

They arrived at Amadeus and were seated at the most non-intimate table that Greg could spot. He wanted this evening to go as uncomfortably as possible for Natalia. He refused to make it easy for the bitch to vamp him. He ordered a less than spectacular wine from the sommelier and extra strong bourbon to steel himself for the evening. He planned to play the absent-minded scientist and hick to perfection. Natalia swept in five minutes later and adopted a slight frown when she saw where Greg was seated. Nonetheless, she accepted a seat across from Greg in moments. He had to admit that she looked stunning, but it was a cold calculated beauty, and it gave her an unattractive and steely edge.

“Hello Natalia,” he greeted her without rising. “A pleasure to see you again and sorry about all the confusion but your note to me came as quite a surprise last evening.”

“Charmed Greg, I remembered that you’d mentioned a trip to the continent and I decided to surprise you,” she replied, her smile faltering somewhat.

“That’s so nice of you. How did you know I was coming to Bonn?” Greg asked, simulating pure innocence.

“I-I’m fairly s-sure you mentioned it, didn’t you?” Natalia stammered. She was furious with herself. Greg had only mentioned a trip to Europe, not where or when. How could she have slipped up so badly?

“No, I don’t think so…” he replied shaking his head.

“Uh…” she was starting to squirm and although he was quite enjoying her discomfiture, he decided to let her off the hook at the last moment.

“… but I could be mistaken,” he divulged casually. “Try the wine, I ordered it especially for your visit.” The face Natalia made as she choked down the wine made Trish break up in fits of giggles. Greg managed to outwardly keep a straight face with a great deal of difficulty and self-control.

“Ah… it’s lovely. So, how was your trip to Switzerland?” Natalia wrung out the words with great effort.

“Very productive, I’m well on the way to setting up a European lab and manufactory just outside Biel,” he smiled graciously, “and I’ve even gone as far to hire my director of operations. How was your day?” Natalia nearly choked on her wine again.

Terrible, she wanted to reply, not only were you out of my sight, but I couldn’t even find my Italian boy-toy to pass the time with. Instead, she smiled.

“I really did nothing as exciting or productive as your day, just some shopping and a visit with some family friends here in town. It’s a pity you don’t have that much time for me this trip,” she again contrived sulkiness.

“Well, in all honesty, I didn’t expect to see you until I returned home,” Greg said. “That’s why my schedule is so tight my Dear. A scientist’s work is never done. I’ve spent most of my time either writing my notes for a panel discussion or working on setting up the European AERI. Maybe in a few months we can take a ski trip together or something,” he affected contriteness.

“I’d enjoy that, and I won’t let you forget either,” Natalia promised and Greg knew she wasn’t kidding. The waiter arrived to take their order at that very moment, rescuing him from anymore phoney small talk.

“Good evening Madam, Sir. How may we serve you this evening?” the waiter asked affectedly. Natalia glanced momentarily at the menu.

“I’ll have the broiled lamb chops with asparagus and Parisienne potatoes please,” she blurted, “and you Greg?”

he baited.

Trish smiled indulgently.

Greg made a brief show of studying the menu as well.

“Um… I’ll have the 26 ounce steak, Kansas City cut, with the special spicy garlic sauce, the potatoes Romanoff and the broccoli… rare please. Oh yes, and bring me another bourbon, thanks.” Natalia’s eyes betrayed her disgust, but her face remained a smiling mask.

“That’s a rather large amount of food before bedtime, isn’t it Greg?” she asked, tipping her hand slightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I skipped lunch today,” he responded unabashedly. “So, how is everything back home?” he inquired, deftly changing the topic.

The rest of the meal was a nightmare for Natalia. Greg polished off every morsel of food before she was even half way through her own meal. She looked slightly ill when Greg ordered dessert and coffee and by the time he lit a cheap cigar, he had carefully abandoned all of his table manners and was delighted when Natalia made polite noises about leaving.

“Well Greg, it’s very late and you have an early start tomorrow. I’d best let you get back to your room to get some sleep. I’ll give you a call,” she finished noncommittally.

She rose and left in as elegant a hurry as was possible. It was all Greg and Trish could do to keep from laughing out loud. Greg crushed out the foul stogie, signalled for the bill and sighed gustily.

he chuckled proudly at his academy award worthy performance.

she challenged.

he grinned.

he quipped.

They paid the tab and walked back to the hotel. They were headed for the elevators when the night clerk called them over.

“Excuse me, Herr Doktor? There are 2 messages from someone named Roxanne and a Ms. Ravensclaw dropped off a note about 5 minutes ago.”

“Thank you very much. I need the wake-up call and the breakfast tray again in the morning.” Greg requested.

“8:00 and 8:30, yes Sir. Have a good night,” the man said as he wrote down the instructions.

“Gute Nacht.” They retired to their room and read Natalia’s note first.

“Dear Greg, I’m sorry to say that I have to leave Germany first thing in the morning. Thank you for a pleasant evening and I’ll call you when you get home. Best regards, Natalia.”

Trish sniggered.

Betina’s first message was to inform him that she’d taken a lease on a suite in one of Biel’s older hotels in order to set up an office. The second was to let him know of the new telecommunications installation that was scheduled for the twenty third and that the railcars were arranged for the twenty first.

Greg said.

chided Trish.

Trish commended him.

Greg shut out the light and was asleep almost before the room went dark.

To be continued

Greg shut out the light and was asleep almost before the room went dark.

Monday, April twentieth, 2009 came none too quickly for Greg. The previous two weeks had been among the busiest in his entire life and now he simply looked forward to immersing himself intellectually in the important work of the EuroSolar Symposium on Alternate Energy. He checked in at the reception desk of the Beethovenhalle at 9:30am and had his laptop and briefcase checked thoroughly by security. The keynote address was to begin at 10:00am, but with the backlog of late arrivals, he knew he had time for at least one more coffee. He looked around to see if he recognised any of the other attendees. It was odd but the crowd seemed to have a number of big energy apologists and Alternative Energy debunkers. Greg felt uneasy about this. It had been these sorts of folk that had almost scuttled the Kyoto accord a decade ago.

he wondered.

she asked drowsily.

she acquiesced. Greg concentrated on the younger people scattered in small knots of conversation. Maybe he could recruit for AERIE from here. Deep in thought, he was startled by a familiar voice from behind him.

“Why Doctor Greg Howard,” the voice said in a fake southern accent, “…as I live and breathe, my eyes must be deceiving me. I thought you never left that pinch of sand of yours in Canada.” Greg spun around to face the source of the voice. It was Jon Tyler, one of his former colleagues from the University of Toronto, and ex-roommate.

“Jon! Jezus, how the hell have you been? Did you ever finish that thesis you were working on?” Greg grinned broadly, pumping his friend’s hand.

“I did indeed,” Jon said, rescuing his hand from the manic grip of his pal, “I gots me a doctorate in chemical engineering… sometime around the time you got your third doctorate… well, that sort of spurred me on a bit,” he smiled brightly. “But I thought you were still in the ‘great white north’, saving the planet one tree at a time.”

“Things change Jonny. I made a big theoretical breakthrough on efficient wind generation and I’m now setting up field tests. I also want to ramp up acceptance of the efficient hybrid car. Canada has signed on, but I have to start cracking other markets too,” Greg laughed.

“That’s so very cool man! All I came up with is a way to break down carbon monoxide so it won’t produce as much smog… in the lab at least,” he admitted jovially.

A small group of the younger people started to move towards them murmuring and gesturing in Greg’s direction. A young oriental woman stopped by the pair and her eyes widened.

“Oh my God! It is you!” her hand covered her mouth. Greg gave Jon a sidelong look.

“Not another one of your Ex's, Jonny?” Greg nudged his friend verbally.

“Oh come off it Greg, these kids have only been reading about you and your work… like forever. Your papers are becoming the basis of graduate work all over the world. You’re the Doctor Seuss of the environment,” Jon said mockingly. He turned toward the gathering crowd and made a fanfare noise.

“Laaadies and gennlemen! Live and in person, the one, the only… Greg Howard! Come one, come all! Step right up and get yer tickets here!” Greg swatted Jon gently on the shoulder.

“Same old goof…” he said, attempting to cover his embarrassment. The young woman spoke up first.

“Dr. Howard, it is such an honour to meet you. Your work has inspired me to study biodiversity and anti-extinction protocols. I’m Rumi Takahashi and I work for the University of Tokyo,” she effused.

“Uh… a pleasure I’m… um… sure, Ms. Takahashi,” Greg stumbled. Jon grinned widely.

“Oho! Still the blushing bride, eh Greg?” he snickered under his breath.

Others stepped forward to congratulate and admire his work and Greg quickly lost track of all the names. He had an idea.

“Excuse me, um… if you’ll all excuse me momentarily, I may have a better way to meet you all,” he cut himself loose from the gathering crowd, tracked the symposium director down and pulled him aside.

“Ah, a moment of your time Sir?” he inquired.

“Certainly Herr Doktor Howard, how may I help you?” the gentleman asked.

“I… uh seem to have attracted a fan club somewhere along the way…” Greg stammered and pointed to the crowd of people around Jon that were looking in his direction. A few even waved, “…and… um… I had noticed you have several periods on the agenda that are simply listed as discussion salons. Would I be correct in assuming that these are simply small gathering rooms?” Greg continued hesitantly.

“Indeed Herr Doktor, that is exactly what they are… ahhh, I see, you wish to have a room put aside for your…” the coordinator grinned, “…fans. I can do that, will a 3 hour booking tomorrow afternoon do?”

“That would be wonderful Herr…?” Greg paused politely for the answer.

“Klaus will be fine. Will you require a coffee service?”

“That also would be wonderful, Klaus. Let me know if you’ll need any payment for the room or the coffee, OK?”

“Certainly Doktor. Would you like the Salon announced?” Klaus asked. Greg thought quickly for a moment and then answered.

“You can… um… call it Dr. Gregory Howard, AERI and AERIE,” he instructed.

“As you wish Doktor,” Klaus wrote quickly on a note pad. “I will announce it before the keynote address so the agenda’s can be updated.”

“Thank you, Klaus,” Greg said warmly. He returned to the group and addressed them.

“Ladies and gentlemen… um… I’ve arranged for a discussion salon tomorrow afternoon where I can meet you all and answer your questions. The time and room will be announced just before the keynote speech, which should be starting right about now. So if you will excuse Doctor Tyler and me, we have to go and find seats for the opening of the symposium. I would suggest you all do the same,” Greg smiled widely at his adoring fans and then took Jon by the elbow and steered him into the main hall.

“Pretty slick Greg. You’ll have them eating out of your hand soon enough,” he chuckled.

“Well gee thanks Jon, you were a great big help.”

They found seats mid-auditorium and settled in for the address. Klaus Neubauer took the podium to address the gathering.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before Professor Bochner begins, I have a late addition to the agenda if you’ll please take note. Tomorrow between 1:00pm and 4:00pm in the Sonata room, there will be a discussion salon titled ‘Doctor Gregory Howard, AERI and AERIE’ moderated by Doctor Howard,” he announced. A low murmur ran through the hall and there was a rustling as people made note of the change to the schedule.

“Now, it is my great pleasure to introduce Professor Anthony Bochner for our keynote address on the true renewability of energy and how we might achieve it…” the director introduced the opening speaker to a long round of applause and then the crowd settled in for the speech.

Almost 2 hours later the crowd applauded again as Professor Bochner left the podium. Greg got up and stretched to loosen his muscles. Jon had already bolted for the men’s room and Greg decided that would be a good idea as well.

chirped Trish.

Greg replied.

she asked him suspiciously.

he filled her in on his plan.

Trish was mightily impressed.

Greg completed her thoughts with a flourish.

she teased.

The afternoon sessions continued after lunch and Greg couldn’t help notice the group of detractors who seemed to oppose any form of energy that was not a dead dinosaur or didn’t leave a toxic residue behind. They regarded Greg and his popularity with a disdain that used to be reserved for rock stars. The seeming ringleader of the obstructionists, Doctor Frederick Gullivan, cornered him during the afternoon break.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Doctor Popularity himself. Still pushing your tree hugging beliefs on the rest of us, are you?” he sneered.

“Ahhhh, Doctor Gullivan. Well it seems that I don’t have to push all too hard nowadays, what with everyone abandoning your sort of ideas. What’s the matter? Are your corporate masters losing their profit-share?” Greg shot back.

“Howard, you seem like a bright person but I can’t understand why you environmental types are always trying to frighten people with your doom and gloom scenarios. There is more than enough oil, gas and coal on the planet to last for years,” he said.

“Really? That much? Is there enough of the planet left? How many people will be poisoned by your extraction processes? Why is it you can’t drink tap water without a filter anymore? Why are so many of the major arboreal regions dead or dying now? Corporate greed is killing the planet, but you don’t have to worry about that do you? You’ll be long dead by the time Earth is uninhabitable, won’t you?” Greg’s questions were like rapid-fire, his voice rising in volume as he spoke.

“Why you young punk! Are you against progress too?” Gullivan was noticeably shaken.

“Unrestrained progress at the cost of our only home? Why yes, of course I’m against it! I notice you’re drinking bottled water… won’t expose yourself to your own pollutants, will you? Hypocrite,” Greg said dismissively.

“You’re a fine one to talk. I read the prospectus on that vehicle of yours. I see it still uses petroleum in its fuel,” Greg’s opponent forced the continuation of the debate.

“Why Gully, I didn’t know you could read. If you had really read the prospectus, you would have seen that the gasohol blend is 85% corn alcohol and 15% petrol. Moreover, you might have noticed that the next model is phasing out the combustion engine completely in late 2010. I intend to remove petroleum from consumer transportation by 2015 and place the final nail in the coffin of the oil industry soon after! You’d better update your resume by then ‘cause you’ll be pounding the pavement and looking for work. Just don’t apply to the AERI or its sister installations,”

Greg advised the man, effectively terminating the conversation. Doctor Gullivan looked like he was about to explode and strutted away sputtering incomprehensibly. There was a loud round of applause and Greg realized he had lost his temper in a gathering of his peers. He blushed and made a satirical bow toward the crowd. Jon and Rumi approached him from the refreshment table. Rumi handed him a bottle of water. He cocked an eyebrow at her and set it back on the table.

“Bravo Greg, old Gully looked like he was going to pop. I’ve wanted to see him put in his place since he sat on my original doctorate committee,” said Jon approvingly.

“It was marvellous to watch Doctor Howard. People like him make me feel ill,” she seconded.

“Thanks… Rumi, was it? Please, call me Greg. I didn’t know he sat on your graduate thesis committee Jon. Did he reject it?”

“Twice... he couldn’t understand why I clung to my empty-headed environmental ideals. He got a job with the oil industry shortly after and without him on the committee I passed with flying colours. Oddly enough, it was his signature on the job offer I received from Shell,” Jon smiled at the irony.

“Dr. Tyler, it sounds like he wanted to control your research,” Rumi commented.

“You could very well be right Ms. Takahashi. It certainly took me a long time to find employment after I rejected the Shell offer, but I managed to complete my second doctoral thesis in the meantime,” Jon mused.

“Are you working now Jon?” Greg asked.

“Just at the good ol’ U of T. The hours are long, but hey… the pay sucks,” Jon grinned his infectious grin, his eyes twinkling with good humour, and all three of them broke up laughing.

The symposium ended for the day at 6:00pm and the delegates returned to their hotels to rest and prepare for the second day. Greg took Trish to a romantic restaurant and they discussed the day’s events.

giggled Trish diabolically.

Greg grumped.

Trish was enjoying the replay of events.

Trish began humming ‘I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing’.

Greg interrupted her small jest,

Their banter became more serious now.

Trish sighed happily. They went back to the hotel and made love in a sunny field all night long.

Interlude: Island SIX.

Dreamwalker assembled his team in the conference room and began,

“It’s time people… time for us to stop playing like this is some sort of popularity contest, constantly worrying about the press and whether governments are condemning us or not. We have the power to reshape the world, not as Gods, but as the representatives of the downtrodden.” Sarida spoke up.

“What do you propose David? I know that Carina and I will follow you, as will the others, I’m sure,” she said genuinely.

“We must give the people of the world the means to free themselves from their corporate masters Sarida. Redistribute the true wealth of this planet to her people. Water, food, shelter and power, but most importantly, we must eliminate the fear that grips the majority of the population. The corporations and their governmental lapdogs have control of all the regular distribution channels and they have weapons to force their views on others. We however, have the power to disarm and wrest the control of distribution away from them. We can repair the soil that has been factory farmed until there are no nutrients left; we can supply water from the icecaps to make the deserts bloom again; we can provide legacy seeds that will reproduce without human aid or intervention; we can make the world healthy again,” his voice boomed through the conference room like a television evangelist.

The other members of The Six were on their feet and cheering. This is what they all wanted to do. Make the world a paradise, and woe betide any who stood in their way.

End interlude.

Day two of the symposium started on an amusing note for Greg when he saw that the troublemakers and naysayers were being studiously ignored by the bulk of the attendees. Whenever one of their group tried to start a conversation or join one in already in progress, they were ignored or walked away from.

Trish observed.

Greg said in amusement. Gullivan just glared as Greg passed him and there were rumblings from his assemblage of cronies. Greg ignored them and headed straight for the coffee. Rumi, who was having a croissant and tea, joined him.

“Good morning Doct… I mean Doc. You sure can liven up a joint! Look at all the groups… And do you know what the main topic of conversation is?” she smiled.

“I don’t know Rumi… either the environment or me,” Greg said facetiously.
“The latter Doc… definitely the latter. You know, I just found out that you are the first person in 12 years not to be cowed by Gullivan? No one is even giving him the time of day now,” she winked knowingly at Greg.

“Well good… karma is often a rigorous mistress,” Greg smirked. “He’s a corporate tool anyway, and you can take that however you wish Rumi,” he winked back. “I have two workshops this morning. Will I see you at the salon this afternoon?”

“Oh yes, I’ll be there, as will most of the others here. They’ve moved your salon to a larger room to accommodate all the people who signed up… and here comes Mr. Neubauer to inform you now,” Rumi nodded in the direction of the gentleman approaching them.

“Herr Doktor Howard?”

“Good morning Klaus, I just heard that my little meeting isn’t so little anymore,” Greg greeted him.

“True Herr Doktor, we have had to open 3 of the rooms together, but there is no difficulty as the other salons can now be placed in smaller rooms. Doctor Gullivan’s group has just dropped to 20 attendees. Uh… about the good Doctor, I’m afraid I must inform you that he has lodged a formal complaint against you,” Klaus responded uncomfortably.

“Really… imagine my surprise,” Greg said contemptuously. “I have a feeling that the low numbers for his group may have had something to do with it, as well as the little discussion we had yesterday…” Klaus gave Greg a small tight smile.

“Even so… the complaint was heard and dealt with and he was censured by the committee.” Greg smiled back.

“Poor Frederick, his week just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn’t it?” Greg said facetiously. “Do me a favour Klaus? Would you please set up a buffet of cold meats, cheeses and fruit, with beverage service for this afternoon’s gathering? I’ll pay.”

“Of course Herr Doktor,” the director said, his eyes twinkling, “we will arrange a tab with the hall for you.”

“And Klaus, my name is Greg, not Herr Doktor, OK?” Greg insisted.

“Of course… Greg.” Klaus hurried off towards the symposium office. Rumi watched the exchange and then turned back to Greg.

“And that’s why you’ll always be a better person then Gullivan, Doc… you treat everyone with respect,” she commented sagely. Rumi wandered off to join one of the other groups and Greg helped himself to some more coffee before heading off to his workshop for the first half of the morning.

Four tedious hours later, Greg emerged into the lobby blinking his eyes and shaking the cobwebs loose from his mind. How could men call themselves learned if they feared and mistrusted new ideas? He had heard proposals for mining the Arctic and Antarctic regions for the coal and gas fields believed to be there. He had also noticed that none of the researchers in the workshops was less than 65 years old. He walked outside to get some fresh air. On days like this, he almost wished he didn’t have to be inside. Greg noticed there was a large black limo parked at the foot of the stairs. The rear doors of the limo opened and several large men got out.

he warned.

Trish advised him. He stepped back into the shadow of the Beethovenhalle entrance and waited. The men approached him.

The largest of them spoke.

“Doctor Howard?”

“Who wants to know?” Greg responded.

“Never mind the lip, are you Doctor Gregory Howard?” the man leaned in threateningly.

“And I’ll repeat my question, who are you and why do you want to know?” Greg said again firmly.

“Ah c’mon Sammy, this is the smart guy… we all saw his picture,” a weasel faced hood spoke up. The bruiser addressed as Sammy glared at his underling, then narrowed his eyes menacingly to look at Greg.

“You’re comin’ with us Poindexter, and this ain’t no request,” he growled. Greg stood his ground.

“Then take me away, if you must…” Greg invited. The first of the men reached for him and he neatly broke his arm. Two quick kicks to the kneecaps and the man was on the ground weeping.

“Uh Sammy, he ain’t supposed to be able to do that,” said the weaselly fellow.

Two of the men rushed Greg and he whirled, kicking the first in the solar plexus and catching the second on the chin. They both went down and stayed there. Greg wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Who’s next, you Sammy?” asked Greg with a feral grin. “You’re almost out of thugs. Oh… I thought not. Now bugger off… and take your garbage with you… I have a meeting to attend,” Greg spoke over his shoulder as he started back into the auditorium.

The remaining men started to drag their fallen back to the car. The one called Sammy turned back towards Greg and snarled,

“This isn’t over Howard, not by any stretch of the imagination!”

“That’s Doctor Howard to you Sammy,” Greg hurled back, “and you should hire a better quality of muscle next time.” He flipped Sam the bird just as the door closed behind him.

“How did you do that Doc?” a soft voice asked incredulously. Greg spun on his heel, still on the defensive. Then he saw it was Rumi and relaxed.

“You mean them?” asked Greg dismissively. “Tai Chi and Chai Tea… I used to study martial arts when I was younger and I’ve kept the Tai Chi up,” Greg covered smoothly.

“You were so fast, it was amazing…” she breathed.

“Well I felt something was up when I saw the goon squad coming and it gave me time to summon up my chi,” he said offhandedly. “You’ll note I didn’t attack, I defended myself.”

“So you say Doc,” Rumi shook her head, “What did they want?”

“They wanted me to take a little ride with them, but if they had been cops, they’d have identified themselves when I asked,” Greg smiled ruefully. “I guess I stepped on someone’s toes yesterday. You watch Gully and his pals when I come back into the atrium, I think they’ll be very surprised to see me.”

To Be Continued

So you say Doc,” Rumi shook her head, “What did they want?”

“They wanted me to take a little ride with them, but if they had been cops, they’d have identified themselves when I asked,”

Greg smiled ruefully.

“I guess I stepped on someone’s toes yesterday. You watch Gully and his pals when I come back into the atrium, I think they’ll be very surprised to see me.”

Greg’s prediction turned out to be correct. As he and Rumi entered the lobby of the conference centre, two dozen jaws dropped in disbelief. Doctor Gullivan gaped like a boated trout and hurried to the bank of payphones along the far wall. Greg and Rumi smiled and walked to the room that had been set up for the salon. It looked like a carpeted gymnasium with row upon row of chairs and a table with a lectern set at the front. Greg covered his eyes and groaned.

“Aaarrrgh! What have I gotten myself into?” he fretted. Rumi smiled gently.

“Hey, just relax and be yourself Doc, you’ll be fine,” she soothed.

“…says the girl who doesn’t live alone on an island! C’mon, let’s get some food before the horde arrives,” he waved her towards the buffet. They helped themselves to the food with Greg assembling a monster sandwich of black forest ham, Swiss cheese and spicy Dijon mustard. Grabbing a can of cola, he headed to the table at the front of the room and set down his laptop and briefcase. Rumi joined him with a simpler roast beef on a roll and a ginger ale. She handed him several napkins.

“You know, for a Zen master, you are awfully forgetful…,” she giggled.

“Thanks Rumi,” he smiled winningly.

Trish grimaced.

he justified.

The delegates started arriving and made small sounds of appreciation at the food laid out for them. Greg just directed them towards it when he noticed hesitation. That started an orderly stampede. The crowd finally settled around ten minutes past one and Greg looked about the room speculatively.

“It appears that a few people wanted to make my acquaintance,” he acknowledged. The group chuckled at his self-deprecatory comment.

“Well, here I am and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired of being talked at. You all must have something on your minds, or you’d be in Doctor Gullivan’s group down the hall. Please, just stand up and speak…” the crowd surged to their feet, “…ahhh… but one at a time please… I’ll point,” Greg directed. Jon Tyler stood in the front row and waved. Greg rolled his eyes,

“Yes Jon…” he sighed, expecting trouble. Jon clicked his heels together and bowed at the waist in mock respect for his friend.

“Herr Doktor Howard, why are you so neeto-keen?” he asked in a fake German accent. The crowd laughed aloud at this and the ice broke. Good ol’ Jonny.

“Gee, I don’t know Jon.” Greg looked around the room, “Maybe someone else here can answer Doctor Tyler’s question. It seems to be based on the hypothesis that I am ‘neeto-keen’. Any takers?” Rumi stood up and Greg nodded to her in relief.

“Well, I’ve had a small opportunity to observe you closely Doctor,” she began, “and I think it’s because you care. You care about the planet, you care about other people, and you care about more than just yourself. It makes people want to like you.”

“OK,” Greg nodded, “it seems I care, anything else?” A young man in the middle of the room stood up.

“Yes Sir? You know my name, Doc or Greg. And who might you be?” Greg smiled indulgently.

“Uh Doc, I’m Norman Johns and I think Ms. Takahashi is correct, but the opposite is also true. The things you don’t care about are also worth mentioning.”

“Go on Norm, we’re listening,” Greg prompted.

“Well… you don’t seem to care about profits, you don’t care about too much secrecy, and you don’t seem to care about protocol and hierarchy either. You respect people (or don’t) based on whether they deserve that respect, not because someone gave them a title or a string of letters behind their name,” the young man suggested.

“OK, good point Norm. I refuse to bow and scrape to a title, I prefer to respect a person. OK folks, now that my character flaws have all been dissected, are there any other questions?” Greg smiled out to the sea of faces, and then mock glared at Jon who made the sign of protection against the evil-eye to ward off the look. A man around his own age stood up in the back.

“Rob Rumboldt,” he said by way of introduction. “Greg, most of us know what AERI is, but what is the second one?”

“Thanks Rob, I was just getting to that. The second acronym is Alternate Energy Research Institute, Europe. I’ve just purchased some land near Biel, Switzerland to build a larger facility and manufactory. I’ve done almost everything I can on my own and now I want to get a team of open-minded, rugged individuals together to help me make the world better for everyone, not just for those who can afford it.” Greg elaborated and the bulk of the room was on its feet cheering by the time Greg had finished his answer.

Another young woman stood when the applause had died down.

“Natalie Green, Doc. I was wondering, do you propose an abandonment of technology or a return to an agrarian society to balance the equation of man versus nature?”

“Great, that’s a very good question Natalie,” Greg clapped his hands together. “My answer would have to be… no and no. There’s no reason we cannot have a healthy planet and maintain our technological status. I think that the answer lies in finding a way to reuse what we have callously thrown away and to find technologies that may have been suppressed or abandoned as not being cost effective.” A low murmur shot through the crowd.

“OK, for example, who here has seen a James Bond movie? All of you? Right, who here saw the Bond film Die Another Day? Most of you, good, then you’ll all remember the villains’ plot… to orbit a giant mirror that would light and warm the darkest places of the Earth so it would be possible to grow crops where there was once only permafrost. Giant death rays aside… that was a real proposal. The Russians wanted to orbit these giant mirrors to warm Siberia. The plan was scrapped because it wasn’t… say it with me…” he waved his arms in the air as if conducting an orchestra,

“COST EFFECTIVE” the crowd said in unison.

“OOOOH… spiffy!” Greg continued, “We spend all of our time chasing little scraps of paper around because we have been told that it’ll make us happy. Now don’t get me wrong, money is currently the only game in town, but what happens when everyone is well fed, clothed and sheltered? Money becomes much less important. However, when money is less important, how will the rich people know that they’re better than the rest of us? I would suggest therapy, but that’s just me. As to finding an effective technological recycling plan…” Greg’s little informal talk was definitely off to a great start and 3 hours later, Greg finally stood to wrap the session up.

“I think we’re just about out of time so I can take one more question and may I take this moment to congratulate you all on your extremely well thought out questions. This is what I think a symposium should be. All right, you in the middle, the young lady in pink?” he pointed.

“Ah… Sally Johansson, Doc. Why do you seem to hate the rich so much?”

“Another good question,” Greg responded with the ghost of a smile, “but that’s based on the faulty assumption that I hate the rich. I don’t, I can’t, because I am currently what most people would call rich and I’m not into the whole self-hate thing. Besides, I know many wonderful rich people. You’d love them too… great folks and good conversationalists. No Sally, I do not hate the rich. What I do hate are greed and fear. Those two one-syllable words have kept humankind in darkness and violence for millennia. I’m not saying we can eliminate greed, it seems to me to be hardwired, but greed is why a planet that could probably sustain twice our current eight billion souls has over three quarters of its population starving or exposed to deadly diseases on a daily basis... and then there’s fear. Fear of the other has caused more wars than any other single thing, greed included, even though it has been proven repeatedly that we are all the same beneath the skin… in our genes, in our DNA, in our atomic structure. If you happen to believe in a God or a Goddess, not one of them tells you to kill in His or Her name. I believe we can eliminate fear. We just have to learn to appreciate all that we can offer to each other. Sorry to get all preachy so late in the day, but I feel very strongly about this. Thank you all very much.” Greg made a small bow and the standing ovation almost blew him over his chair. Then the crowd slowly started filtering out of the room.

Trish sounded awed.

Greg rejoindered

Rumi ran up and gave Greg a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Doc, I… I don’t know what to say, I’ve never felt so completely inspired. I have to work with you… I have no other choice now!” she gushed. Jon grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Jeez Greg, I didn’t know you had it in you! I’d leave Canada at the drop of a hat to plant a seed in Africa if you asked me to,” his friend praised him.

“Go on, the both of you. Was it really that good?” he asked.

“Doc, I’ll bet that more than half of the people here today will be polishing up their résumés for a shot at working with you to improve the planet,” Rumi answered knowingly. Greg stood there looking flustered. He held up a hand.

“Look at me, I’m trembling…Goddess, I could use a good stiff drink. Who’ll join me? It’s on the rich person,” he laughed.

Before anyone could answer, there was a sound of clapping that came echoing across the empty room. Greg focussed on a tall gentleman in a tailored suit that screamed its substantial cost.

“I must say that was an excellent salon Doctor Howard, well spoken indeed.

Greg recognised the voice as he’d heard it on the other end of Natalia’s telephone conversation. He felt his hackles rise but maintained a mask of calm. The man seemed to be somewhere in his 60s but in excellent shape. He had wavy steel grey hair and carried an ornate walking stick.

“You have me at a slight disadvantage Sir,” Greg professed ignorance. “You seem to know me but, as far as I can recall, we’ve never been properly introduced.”

“Nathanial Ravensclaw, at your service, and your friends are Jon Tyler and Rumiko Takahashi. Please sit down,” Ravensclaw gestured imperiously as he walked towards them and sat in the front row of the room.

“I’d hoped to meet with you privately, but my colleagues told me you politely declined,” he said with a slight quirk of his lips.

“Well Nathanial, I’d suggest you hire a better grade of goon next time, perhaps some that understand a polite question when it’s asked of them,” Greg responded crisply.

"Ah yes, the ‘polite question’,” Nathanial snorted derisively, “what was it? ‘Who wants to know?’ Well Sammy is learning the hard way that politeness can usually achieve much more than threats.”

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company Nathanial?” Greg asked coolly.

“A simple business proposition Doctor Howard,” Ravensclaw responded. Greg scowled.

“Rumi, Jon, could I meet you in a few minutes at that bar across the street, I have to figure out how to politely refuse Mr. Ravensclaw’s offer,” Greg inquired of his friends.

Trish seemed ready to leap across the table and choke Nathanial.

Greg mollified Trish. Rumi guided Jon from the room by his elbow and winked back at Greg.

“Now Doctor Howard, is that nice? At least hear me out,” Nathanial said blandly.

“Why?” Greg glared at him. “So you can take me to the high mountain and show me the kingdoms of the Earth? Knock off the act Ravensclaw. You feel I’m threatening you somehow and you want to purchase my soul. Well… it’s not for sale! I had your daughter pegged pretty soon after I met her. It’s really too bad she hasn’t the stomach for reality,” he smirked.

“Ahhhh yes…” Nathanial steepled his fingers, “Natalia… what on Earth did you do to send her scurrying back to Los Angeles with her tail between her legs?” he sounded slightly amused.

“I acted Nye Kulturi, without culture. Her pampered upbringing never prepared her for a dinner with a real person. A pity… if she wasn’t so cold, she probably has the capacity to be a real person herself,” Greg chuckled at the memory. Ravensclaw sighed.

“Very well Doctor Howard, I can see that you cannot be bought. However I really don’t think you fully understand who you’re dealing with,” he warned Greg ominously.

“Really?” Greg raised an eyebrow. “Well Nate, why don’t you illuminate me? Throw a little light on the subject?” he quipped. Ravensclaw stiffened and glared at Greg. All pretences of civility had drained out of him.

“You play a very dangerous game Doctor Howard. We have many resources and we could make life…let’s just say… difficult for you,” Nathanial’s true colours were beginning to show.

“Well, I may just surprise you with resources of my own,” Greg countered. “Now, here’s my warning to you… don’t push me or my friends or you could very easily find out what poverty is… and not just the moral poverty you currently suffer from. Now, if you’ve nothing further, I’ll take my leave. I’m expected for a drink with my friends, you know… friends?” Greg scoffed. He stood and walked towards the door. Halfway there, he turned back.

“You know something Nate? I just figured out that there’s no polite way to tell someone to stick their head up their ass, so… go stick your head up your ass,” he concluded. As Greg exited the room, Doctor Gullivan leapt back in surprise. Greg just glared at him.

“I think your boss needs his ass kissed, do you need any chapstick?”

Greg strode out of the hall and walked across the street to the bar. He wanted a drink with his friends, but he also desperately wanted to smash something. He spotted a rock on the sidewalk. It was small and grey and looked like granite. It would do. He picked it up and made a fist. Grey powder filtered through his fingers and he felt slightly better. Dusting off his hands, he went into the bar and found Jon and Rumi.

“How’d it go? Did he scream much? Was there any blood? Tell me man, tell me!” Jon leapt out of his seat.

“I found out how to tell a man to insert his cranium into his anus. You simply can’t do it politely,” Greg grimaced. “Ravensclaw made vague threats towards me and I made vague threats back. His toady Gullivan was hovering just outside the door too,” he reported. Jon frowned for a moment.

“Actually you could have told him to live cranio-anally.” Greg looked at his friend blankly for a matter of seconds and then did a double take. They broke out laughing.

“Thanks Jon, I really needed that,” Greg said feeling instantly better and glad for the fellowship of his newfound companions. Rumi slid a double bourbon in front of Greg.

“Doc, are you sure this is a safe course of action?” she asked worriedly.

“Nathanial reminded me that, according to him, there are only two ways to go, his way or the highway. I happen to know of a third. There is no safe course when dealing with scum like Ravensclaw, Rumi. If he declares war on me, I will declare it right back.”

“Still want to enlist with Doc Savage here Rumi?” Jon stage whispered to her.

“Yes, the planet is worth it Jonny. What about you?” she asked.

“Oh sure kid, my old roomie knows I’ve got his back,” Jon said affectionately.

“Thank you both,” Greg relaxed visibly. “The new institute won’t be ready for six to eight months, but I’d love to have you as project director and researcher Jon, and Rumi, I want you as planner and researcher when we get going or sooner if you can, to assist me in getting the place up and running. But really, thank you, I’m already feeling the slime washing off of my slightly battered soul,” he smiled sincerely at his pals and then raised his glass in a toast.

“To the future and a renewed world!” The others raised their glasses too.

“To the future and a renewed world!” they echoed.

To Be Continued

“To the future and a renewed world!” The others raised their glasses too.

“To the future and a renewed world!” they echoed.

Dawn was breaking over Manhattan Island and the sunrise painted the office on the one hundred and first floor of the New World Trade Centre with shades of pink and orange. The man sitting at the desk took no notice of the natural beauty flooding through the windows however… he had other concerns... two in fact, two insignificant insects named Saber and Howard. When Saber had threatened his power base, Nathanial Ravensclaw had reached across the world and plucked the old man from his mountainside hideout, but instead of cowering in fear like so many before him, Professor Julian Saber had callously destroyed his life’s work and retreated into his own mind. Ravensclaw pounded the expensive mahogany desk with his fist.
Damn him! Ravensclaw stormed. He had invaluable information that the Illuminati needed.

If it was true that Saber was behind The SIX, then Saber could apply that same process to his own carefully selected minions and grant them the powers he had given to those idealists! This was power that Ravensclaw would then control and use to the advantage of the Illuminati.

On May first, 1776, in Bavaria, Dr. Adam Weishaupt, a Professor of Canon Law at Ingolstadt University and a former Jesuit priest, formed a secret society called the Order of the Illuminati within the existing Masonic lodges of Germany. Since Masonry is itself a secret society, the Illuminati was then a secret society within a secret society or a mystery inside a mystery, so-to-speak. In 1785, the Illuminati were suppressed by the Bavarian government for allegedly plotting to overthrow all the Kings in Europe and the Pope to boot. This is what all historians generally agree upon. Everything else is a matter of heated, and sometimes fetid, controversy.

It has been claimed that Dr. Weishaupt was an atheist, a Cabalistic magician, a rationalist, a mystic; a democrat, a socialist, an anarchist, a fascist; a Machiavellian amoralist, an alchemist, a totalitarian and an ‘enthusiastic philanthropist.’ (The last was the verdict of Thomas Jefferson, by the way.) The Illuminati have also been credited with managing the French and American revolutions from behind the scenes, taking over the world, being the brains behind Communism, Hippies, Viet Nam, secretly worshipping Satan, cancelling your favourite television show and the Chicago Cubs endless losing streak. Some go so far as to claim that Weishaupt did not even invent the Illuminati but only revived it. The Order of Illuminati has been traced back to the Knights Templar, to the Greek and Gnostic initiatory cults, to Egypt, even to Atlantis. The single safest generalization one can make is that Weishaupt's intent to maintain secrecy has worked. No two students of Illuminology have ever totally agreed about what the ‘inner secret’ or purpose of the Order actually was (or is). There is endless room for speculation, and for paranoia, once one really gets into the literature of the subject, and there has been a wave of sensationalistic exposés of the Illuminati for every generation since 1776. If you were to believe all this sensational literature, the damned conspirators were responsible for everything that’s wrong with the world including the energy crises and the fact that you can’t ever get a plumber on weekends. Of course no one really believed that conspiracy crap nowadays...*

…except Nathanial Ravensclaw. He was a member of the oldest and most powerful group the world had ever produced and was one step away from ruling The Council of Twenty. Suddenly though, he was beginning to feel everything slipping through his grasp. Twenty people controlled everything on the planet, the money, the governments, and they should have controlled the population too. However, there was a disturbing trend growing in the populations of Earth, a subtle resistance to being led. It had started over six decades ago in the late 1950’s. Anti-war protests, counter-culture, a growing mistrust of governments and corporations. And now, the environmentalists were making real progress in awakening awareness in the masses. Seemingly out of nowhere appeared this Doctor Gregory Howard. Ravensclaw spat, the name tasted toxic, even in his thoughts. The worm had been contained, almost cut off from the world on a chunk of rock in northern Ontario. Now, all of a sudden, he’d burst loose with a vehicle that threatened the existing industrial base and The Council’s control of the oil and automotive industries.

The next shock was the Canadian Government openly endorsing the damn thing! DeLongiles and Johnson were of no use to him any more. Ravensclaw made a note to have them cut off and disgraced. Howard however, was becoming an even bigger thorn in his side. Free power schemes and now this talk of setting up another, more active research centre in Europe! Where had the man gotten this drive and energy? As little as six months ago, Howard had been completely withdrawn and now he was becoming a major player on the world stage. Ravensclaw had dispatched his most trusted aide, his own daughter to deal with him, and Howard had defeated her somehow. Now the man had the audacity to defy Ravensclaw personally. He was completely thunderstruck and he would not stand for it!

Nathanial Ravensclaw was not used to being defied and he hated it. This non-entity had even alluded to his connection with the Illuminati, although how he had figured it out Ravensclaw really had no idea. Nathanial decided at that moment to take personal control of the destruction of Doctor Gregory Howard. He would enjoy every second of it very much. His other problem, to which he had just been alerted, was the mysterious destruction of the coca fields in South America. And it was not just a few either but all of them. The Drug Enforcement Agency of course denied any knowledge of it and he knew they were telling the truth. They had been firmly in The Council’s pocket since their creation. This was not blight either. The soil seemed to have no nutrients in it whatsoever. His observer reported that it resembled sand. Without the current coca crop, the world’s supply of cocaine would be totally exhausted in less than a month. This month was quickly becoming an unmitigated disaster, but how would he destroy Howard? This thought weighed most heavily on his mind and it was driving him to distraction.

Financially? He had used that method before, he liked it, faking patent assignments, deleting bank records and the like, but that didn’t seem satisfactory at all. The man was a maggot and he needed to be crushed, not just ruined. A scandal perhaps? No… he just wasn’t high profile enough. He needed to die and all that was connected to him had to die as well. That was the way to crush Howard and all that he and his AERI represented. Now, who could he engage to do the job, and to do it right? Howard had proven very adept at defending himself… those idiots he’d sent to Bonn had shown him that fact. He would need some research done on this and as soon as possible. Nathanial felt better now that he had decided on a course of action. He might even let his daughter come back to New York. He slowly relaxed into his chair. Yes, he felt better, he might even take another crack at Saber today. Scorpions perhaps, they could be very painful. Smiling, Nathanial Ravensclaw walked to the elevator to get some breakfast. By the time he got to the lobby, he actually caught himself whistling.

By ten am, the research department had come up with three possible candidates for the Howard job. All were among the best ‘eliminators’ currently available. Each one was an expert in multiple methods, and all of them were very innocuous. As for the two idiots from Canada, Johnson had been found floating in the Rideau Canal and DeLongiles had been implicated in his murder. Nathanial decided to have his chat with Professor Saber. He took his private elevator to the one hundred and thirteenth floor, a floor that officially didn’t exist… The Council had seen to that. He went to the cell where the Professor was being held and tapped in a code on the keypad. The door slid open and he found the Professor lying on his cot.

“Enjoying yourself Professor?” Ravensclaw asked with a note of disdain.

“Oh yes Nathanial, all of this free time to think,” Julian Saber smiled gently. “You would not believe some of the theoretical advances I’ve come up with. And to think, you will never get to exploit them, how sad,” he feigned a pouting demeanour.

“Julian, Julian, Julian… why do you continue to resist The Council? Together we could create wonders!” Nathanial shook his head in mock dispair.

“That you and your comic book villains would use to further dominate the free will and spirit of humankind,” Julian finished the thought.

“As is our God given right,” Nathanial bristled. “I really do not wish the interrogation sessions to get painful for you, but even I have a breaking point and I’m approaching it dangerously fast. Surely a logical man such as yourself can see the futility of resisting us?” he attempted to reason with his captive.

“‘Resistance is futile’, eh?” Julian chuckled. “Usually you just sound like a Ferengi, but now you’re beginning to sound like the Borg. Going to send in the drones?” Ravensclaw scowled.

“Joke all you like Saber, but I’m through waiting on you,” he gave an oily grin. “I brought some pets for you to play with. I’ll be back in half an hour or so and we’ll talk about antidotes, among other things,” Nathanial concluded ominously. He opened the door with his remote and pressed a code series on the keypad outside the door. Inside the room, small openings along the bottom of the wall appeared and several dozen black scorpions crawled out.

“Have fun Julian, and boys… play nice.” The main door slid shut as the Professor stared after Nathanial in disbelief. As he reached the elevator, Ravensclaw heard the first of what would be many screams and he smiled a shark-like smile. Returning to his office, he ordered his secretary to bring him a cup of coffee just as The Council phone line began to ring. He grabbed the receiver.

“Ravensclaw”

“How are you progressing?” replied the ancient voice.

“Things are coming back under control, Lindquist,” Nathanial responded smoothly.

“Really now, what can you tell me of Colombia, or for that matter, all of South and Central America?” Lindquist raised his voice in anger.

“I haven’t had the time to fully review all of the reports, but it seems like some sort of artificial soil blight. So far, it seems suspiciously selective in that it has only affected areas under coca cultivation. Food crops and other natural plantings have been unaffected. I suspect sabotage…” Nathanial began calmly.

“FOOL!” Lindquist screamed, “Of course its sabotage! We need to know by whom and what means. I’ve had reports of the same blight in our opium operations worldwide too. In under a day, two of our major revenue streams have been effectively crippled!” he croaked savagely.

“I hadn’t heard about the opium crops Lindquist. I would direct my suspicions towards The SIX. It’s just the sort of heroic nonsense they’re capable of,” Ravensclaw attempted to soothe the older man.

“The SIX? The SIX? I’m sick to death of hearing about them. Have you cracked Saber yet?” the old man continued his tirade.

“He’s just visiting with some of my pets right now…” Nathanial smiled into the phone.

“Just make sure he lives,” the heat was beginning to cool from Lindquist’s voice. “As long as he’s alive, we may have some luck, but he’s useless to us dead. Remember, he’s more important to us than you are. If he dies, you’ll join him. I’ll speak to you later and try to have some useable information for me,” Lindquist terminated the call and Ravensclaw listened to the hum of the open line for a moment longer. He replaced the receiver in its cradle just as his assistant brought in his coffee.

When he had calmed down and finished the coffee, he buzzed her again and told her to have the doctor wait for him outside special projects room twenty three with the antivenin. Saber should have had time to think over his intransigence by now.

St. John (pronounced Synjin) Lindquist was the current leader of The Council of Twenty and had worked hard to get where he was. St. John was disappointed with Nathanial, as he’d been grooming him to take control of The Council when he passed on. Now, as he sat in his office in the villa on the Spanish coast and scowled, he wondered what would be next… the tobacco crops? It felt like they were fighting the wind, never knowing where the next attack would come from, and no way to mount a defence. Damn it to the seven hells! They needed the information that Professor Saber had in his head and instead of concentrating on this simple fact, Ravensclaw was losing his mind over this non-entity Howard.

“Peste!” He swore aloud as he lit a fresh habañera and thought.

The U.N. Secretary-General was due to visit him tomorrow and he decided that a U.N. censure against The SIX was in order. Those so-called heroes would not want public opinion going against them, now would they? Maybe even a Papal edict? Public opinion was so easy to sway with the controlled media. He had learned that much from Murdoch. The sheeple would think whatever he wanted them to think. Lindquist chuckled and poured another glass of Sangria. Maybe now he could enjoy his day.

Natalia Ravensclaw lay beside the swimming pool of the Beverly Palms Hotel and worried. Why had she run? She was made of sterner stuff than this, surely, but that evening in Bonn had horrified her… to be seen with that… that barbarian? How could he have done that to her, in a public place, after he had seemed so cultured when they were at the Mayor’s party in Parry Sound. How could she have made such an error in judgement? Was she actually that shallow? If she were, she would have to ruthlessly eliminate that trait. She had to be steel, like Daddy, if she was going to take his position when he moved into the number one chair of The Council. She had to temper herself, like the blade she had been training herself to be since she discovered who her father really was. Softness, compassion and love all had to be burned away until she was pure steel… beautiful and deadly. When next they met, Gregory Howard was the one in for a rude awakening and a nasty surprise. She arose from her chaise lounge and began a series of Tai Chi exercises to clear her mind for the task that lay ahead. Los Angeles would now become the anvil that would shape and complete her. Presently, her mind cleared and she felt and saw nothing.

Richard DeLongiles sat trembling in his northern Quebec retreat, an RCMP service revolver and a box of cartridges open in front of him on the crude wooden table. He could hear the barking dogs… or was that in his mind? Ah well… it didn’t matter, the police would be here soon enough. He could not go to prison. He would not live long there and his death would be brutal, they would see to that. How could everything have gone so wrong, so quickly? He couldn’t talk, they would just think him crazy and his life in an asylum would be just as short, his death just as brutal. No, he would die like a man. If anyone were going to take his life from him, it would be he and he alone. Richard picked up the pistol and loaded it with exactly one cartridge. He steadied it against his chin and pulled the trigger…

To Be Continued

No, he would die like a man. If anyone were going to take his life from him, it would be he and he alone. Richard picked up the pistol and loaded it with exactly one cartridge. He steadied it against his chin and pulled the trigger…

Is anything wrong? Are you unhappy sweetheart?

he asked, concerned.

she explained.

Trish elaborated.

he tried to console her.

he probed.

Trish disclosed.

Greg found himself at a loss.

she insisted.

Greg attempted to console her.

Trish sighed deeply.

Greg responded slowly. Trish sighed again,

They got dressed and left for what was supposed to be the busiest day of the conference. It proved to be an anti-climax after the events of two days ago, but Greg tried his hardest to make the attendees understand the importance of abandoning the older destructive ways in favour of the Earth-friendly technologies that he had worked so hard on.

“…remember, we may not all be superheroes, but we can all be heroes for the planet. Thank you,” he concluded.

The people started to leave the room and Greg sighed as he saw the empty water bottles filling up the trashcan. He would have thought that a symposium on the environment would at least have placed recycling bins in the hall and he shook his head sadly. He tidied up his notes, and packed them in his briefcase. Though there were still 2 days left at the symposium, he decided that since there was nothing urgent waiting for him at home, he’d spend one more night in Bonn, then fly to Biel and work with Betina on getting the AERIE up and running… well, at least started.

Greg opened the door to his hotel room and was surprised to see a figure in his hotel room. Especially one who had a gun trained on him.

Greg wondered.

Trish noted.

“Doctor Howard? Please come in and shut the door,” the woman gestured casually with the firearm.

“Great… someone else who knows me but is a complete stranger to me…” he muttered. He closed the door and stood waiting.

“My name is not important as I was never here. My employer wishes you removed and I have that honour. Now, if you will just follow instructions, I will make this as painless as possible,” she smiled humourlessly. “Please don’t get any amusing ideas... I am a master shot.”

“I really don’t have time for this. Please inform Mister Ravensclaw to do his own dirty work or simply to leave me alone,” he snarled.

“It’s not that simple. As you see, I am a professional as are you. I take a certain pride in my work and I will not abandon a contract on the target’s say so,” Paulina explained, never taking her eyes off Greg.

he instructed.

In a mere second, he was right in front of the intruder who reflexively fired her weapon. The silenced shot ricocheted off Greg’s forehead and embedded itself in the wall. The look in the assassins eyes went from confidence to confusion as Greg twisted the pistol from her hand. He held the gun up in front of the blonde woman’s face and casually bent the barrel in half.

“Here’s your toy back,” Greg nonchalantly tossed the weapon to the woman. “Now, you’re going to sit there and tell me what I want to know… or I can start breaking you… bit by tiny bit,” he threatened.

“That bastard… he never said you were one of… them…” she was shocked and dismayed at this unexpected turn of events.

“That’s because he didn’t know… and I’m not one of them… I’m one of me! Now, start talking lady,” he took an intimidating step closer. The blonde woman glared at him then mysteriously slumped over in her chair. There was the scent of bitter almonds in the air.

Trish was horrified.

Greg said in dismay.

Thinking quickly, they used nanomechs to disassemble the gun and slug and seal the hole in the wall. The corpse was dumped in the nearest body of water, to be found in the morning by a very confused police force. ‘One of Europe’s most wanted, found dead in Germany by her own hand’, the headlines were sure to scream. Trish was thoughtful as they flew back to their suite.

asked Trish.

They checked out of the Domicil the next morning at 10:00am and caught the 11:00 train to Bern. Betina was waiting at the station with a rental car and she drove them to their new offices in Biel. She’d been very busy and it showed. The former hotel suite was now a mixed-use office space complete with one bedroom left intact and a small kitchenette. That reminded them that they hadn’t really eaten yet and after the tour of the new facilities, Greg took Betina to lunch at the hotel restaurant.

“So everything has gone smoothly Betina?” Greg inquired politely.

“Oh yes Doc. The railway has delivered your containers to the switching yard and they will be routed to Nice tomorrow. I have placed for bid, the demolition contract of the old mill building and the auction will take place in 2 days,” she beamed.

“Tell me something Betina, do you ever relax?” Greg smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all your hard work, but I don’t want you to burn yourself out… you do have the job, you know, there’s no need to try and prove yourself,” he told her. Betina smiled at Greg and he noticed for the first time that she had dimples.

“I know Doc… but I just want this project to work… more than anything else I’ve ever done in my life. I’m really quite excited about it.”

“Good girl, but I’m relying on you to be able to make decisions for me when I’m not here and you can’t do that from a sick bed,” he gently chided her. They went back to the office and Greg gave her a list of names and contact information to enter into the database and then went back out to the mill to meet with a demolition contractor Betina had arranged for. He arrived early to explore the old mill building. Most of the heavy equipment had been removed when the mill had been closed but there were tantalizing bits and pieces lying around. Leaning up against a wall was a saw blade as big in diameter as he was in height. He heard a noise outside and went to the door. Something whizzed by his ear and impacted the building with a solid thump.

'What the hell!?!" he blurted as he ducked back inside.

Trish stated the obvious.

As he backed into the building, the ACM flowed up over his head and hands to become the full battlesuit. Out in the tree line, Kychiri cursed silently. He rarely missed and now his target was alerted. He couldn’t see Howard in the shadows so he crept out of his shielded spot and silently drew his katana. Their assailant was across the compound faster than most could follow, but they tracked the dark shrouded figure to just inside the doorway. Greg was furious… Two attacks in as many days? Christ that Ravensclaw was annoying.

he bitched.

inserted Trish.

Greg picked up a bolt the size of his fist and hurled it just to the right of his attacker. It went through the wall leaving a hole the size of a watermelon. A shape detached from the shadows and Greg caught a glimpse of a long length of steel. Ninjas?! They were sending Ninjas?! This was turning into a bad comedy!

Trish reported.

Greg responded.

she announced triumphantly.

Greg let out a cry and fell to the ground with a moan. He retracted the hood and gloves and recreated his clothing with a bloodstain on the shoulder. He lay there surreptitiously watching the stealthy approach of the intruder.

Kychiri watched his prey from a distance of 10 metres as he lay on the floor. He was hit, that much was obvious, but the defence put up by this academic put Kychiri on the alert. Something was askew and he didn’t plan to become a victim. The news that the woman had been discovered dead had come as quite a shock to him and he had moved furtively to track this Doctor Howard. He approached slowly, noting the figure and the bloodstain on his jacket. Kychiri readied his katana for the killing blow…

Trish noted the tension in the attacker’s sword arm and launched them before Greg even had a chance to react. She had the sword wrested from Kychiri’s hand in a flash and battled him to the ground. She clubbed him with the pommel of the sword and knocked him out cold. Quickly she had him stripped naked and searched him for hidden poisons and weapons before finally securing the assassin with a large plate of steel on his chest.

said Greg.

She smiled. There was a moan from the vicinity of their feet.

she asked.

Kychiri came to and found himself pinned to the ground. He couldn’t move his arms or legs but he could turn his head. He saw a pile of his weapons and clothing and looked up into the eyes of the man who had defeated him. A tear involuntarily rolled down his cheek.

“私は何へのこんにちは、あなたの訪問の名誉を負うか。(Good afternoon, to what do I owe the honour of your visit?)” Greg addressed the trapped assassin in his own language.

“I speak English honoured one,” the small man replied.

“Excellent, then we can start with your name and why you’re attempting to kill me,” Greg smiled brightly.

“My name is Hidako Kychiri, Howard-san. I was hired to remove you from the path of your enemy,” he replied with some small amount of difficulty.

“Nathanial Ravensclaw?” Greg inquired.

“Hai! He also sent one before me who died,” Kychiri responded.

“The blonde woman? I’d figured he was behind that. The question is, now what do I do with you?” Greg spoke mostly to himself.

“Kill me… or allow me an honourable death Howard-san, for I have failed and do not wish Ravensclaw’s dogs to hunt me down,” he almost pleaded.

“You are an honourable foe Kychiri-san. You may die by your own hand. I will keep your katana to honour you,” Greg said and bowed at the waist.

“Arrigato Howard-san, I hope we will meet again on the wheel of life.” Greg wrestled the plate off Kychiri, pretending more effort than it actually took. The assassin took a small knife and drove it into his own brain. He died instantly. Greg carefully redressed the small man and replaced his weapons. Sheathing the katana, he had the bugs attach it to the back of the battlesuit. He cradled the small man gently in his arms, carried him outside, and shot off into the sky, heading for Japan.

To Be Continued

Greg carefully redressed the small man and replaced his weapons. Sheathing the katana, he had the bugs attach it to the back of the battlesuit. He cradled the small man gently in his arms, carried him outside, and shot off into the sky, heading for Japan.

It was December 25th, 2009, exactly a year to the day that he’d bonded with his beloved Tricia and Greg was relaxing and reminiscing. It had been a busy few months after the symposium at first, but had quickly settled down into a calm rhythm that the AIs kept annoyingly calling ‘the eye of the storm’. After returning Kychiri to his ancestral home, Greg and Trish had settled into the serious business of setting up the Biel centre. The local government was enthusiastic as the influx of capital was welcome in the quiet little town. They had plans of billing themselves as the Environmental Capitol of Europe to attract the eco-tourists and Greg was surprised and pleased at how little red tape he encountered. Having a lot of press coverage seemed to help smooth the way and encourage the politicians to make the popular decisions. Still and on though, it took eight months and he was beginning to miss his island home in Canada.

It took over four months to have the main building replaced and the out buildings refurbished to Greg’s exacting standards. The facility was running under high efficiency solar cells until the first of the new wind powered modules could be brought online. Rumi and Jon joined Betina as the water and sewage treatment plants were receiving their final additions. The main house of AERIE was completed on schedule and was roughly three times the size of the original back home, with enough room for all three of its permanent residents and one or two transient beings to boot. The biggest problem that they ran into was the masses of applicants and résumés they had to wade through. They made use of the newly installed computer network and some innovative programming from Greg (and secretly the AIs) to find out who were the best candidates for the research positions. The security screening was tight and handled, Greg had told them, by one of the best firms in the business. In reality, Greg had left that portion of the massive job to the computer personalities at Saber Base who were naturally more thorough than any human agency could ever hope to be. Prof had clandestinely set up the consulting firm of Solomon and Julian to handle the legalities and, as a surprise bonus, had generated a new and lucrative revenue stream.

Greg had been shocked and thrilled to see the changes to his island home when he’d first visited it briefly in the months that followed the symposium. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary when he’d entered the main house one December afternoon, but then Hestia showed him the new entrance in the basement with the palm lock concealed behind a wooden panel. The door had swung inwards and they saw the large chamber carved from the living rock of Franklin Island.

Greg was unexpectedly greeted by holographic representations of both the Prof and Solomon. It had been a bit of a jolt at first, but Prof explained that it was a logical extension of Hestia’s holonet and a good idea in order to facilitate interaction with Trish and himself. The actual computer vaults and work floors were deep within the granite of the Canadian Shield and virtually inaccessible to invading forces. The upgraded ACM materials that were based on Greg and Trish’s original work concealed any surface installations and so far, there’d been no curiosity seekers or any other forms of intrusion, but Hestia had created a series of non-lethal security devices that ringed the complex, just in case. Trish was ecstatic to have Saber Base up and running again.

"Professor?" she asked the AI, "I was just wondering why you didn’t reactivate my brothers and sisters. Didn’t you say you had backups of each one of them?"

“We do Darling Daughter, but we need more processing power now to run them. Gregory, will you approve the purchase of a dozen surplus Cray SV1 supercomputers to wire into the network? I’d ask for the latest models, however, the finances are starting to stretch a little thin.”

Greg informed the AIs.

“We may have an idea that will help you Gregory Howard,” Solomon spoke up then. Greg shook his head smiling as he couldn’t get the elder AI to be any less formal with him than that.

“The consulting firm that you had us set up to do background checks on the applicants for AERIE has been getting inquiries as to contracting out to other companies. It would be prudent to accept selected clients,” the machine intelligence advised him.

Greg told Solomon.

“Of course, understood,” the AI had sounded shocked at the very idea of untruths. Greg smiled as he brought this back to mind.

During all of this time, The SIX had become bolder, even reckless in their campaign against evil and greed. After very nearly destroying the drug trade world wide, they turned their efforts to the food supply. Great swaths of formerly unusable and fallow land in Africa were miraculously made fertile again and the local farmers were finding it impossible to grow less than they needed. The SIX would take a portion of the harvest to feed those people in areas that hadn’t taken in a harvest yet. Parts of the Sahara were becoming green again as icebergs were moved in to melt in the great desert. Those governments that practiced the politics of hunger were thwarted on a regular basis as food was made available to people who had never had a steady food supply, at least not in more than two generations. The African continent was blooming and the world powers could do nothing but praise The SIX, as much as it galled them. As world hunger was eased, so were many ancient tensions, and the tribal wars in Africa seemed to be in danger of extinction as The SIX traded seeds and farming equipment for arms.

The major crises caused by the elimination of drugs had been the literally millions of addicts who could no longer get their fixes. The suffering of withdrawal was soon felt on a worldwide scale... however, that too began to pass as local efforts created clinics for addicts to recover in. Most of the people survived and the charitable services set up for them were provided with fresh food to improve the diets and lives of those withdrawing. The political interference by The SIX rankled those in power the most. three regime changes had been affected by The SIX over the course of eight months and it didn’t matter that the U.N. had publicly condemned the governments and imposed economic sanctions, it was really that The SIX had managed to provide the oppressed peoples of those countries with the freedom that political pressure had never achieved. It was the fact that it made the U.N. look ineffectual and toothless that really rankled the General Assembly.

The SIX also refused to endorse any particular form of government either. They simply left that up to the will of the freed peoples. The only thing The SIX insisted upon was the surrender of all weapons, which were then converted by Samba into their base elements. Then a simple warning was given to the populations that they would be watched and if human rights were ignored, The SIX would again intervene. The same warning was given to neighbouring nations to discourage any thoughts of invasion. The U.N. Security Council was deadlocked as well because for all of their heavy-handed tactics, The SIX were succeeding at exactly the mission that the U.N. had originally been chartered. Global tensions were on the decline and as the world drew a breath of relief, education and health began to rebound. Even the United States started to focus its attentions on the domestic mess that had almost destroyed its population and the inner cities started to become safe once again.

At both AERI and AERIE, the Wind Energy Modules started to ship out on a regular basis, first to large population centres, and then to the areas of the planet that had never before known a reliable source of electricity. Greg and Trish had started to receive requests from all over the world to set up branches of the institute or train engineers to maintain the delicate planetary ecosystems that had nearly been destroyed. Greg’s proudest moment had come when the Canadian Government declared itself seventy percent free of fossil and atomic energy. He had been present at the decommissioning of Ontario’s three nuclear energy plants as the output they had contributed had been far outstripped by the fields of WEMs around the province. Being named to The Order of Canada was the icing on the cake.

There had naturally been a number of sabotage attempts, but they were ineffective at best. Generally, if a saboteur was captured, it was difficult for them to receive a fair hearing anywhere if he or she survived that long. The people of the planet were enjoying this seemingly golden age of prosperity and taking back the power they had long ago surrendered to the corporations. A groundswell of environmental awareness was building and many species that had been on the verge of extinction were slowly showing signs of a comeback. Greg noticed that Jon and Betina were getting closer as well. Trish thought it was a good match and was amused by Jon’s clownish attempts to curry favour with the beautiful Frauline. In fact, Jon first floated the idea of using the Howard turbine system for geothermal energy production. He privately told Greg that it was a shameless play for Betina’s attentions, so Greg let his friend take all the credit for the idea. There had been spurious lawsuits aimed at the AERIs for ‘patent infringement’ but the claims had always been proven fraudulent, thanks to the expert consultancy of Solomon and Julian. Greg did worry however, about the seeming lack of overt animosity from the Illuminati, and Trish continued to worry about their inability at locating Professor Saber. Her worry rapidly became grief as she began to lose hope that her Father would ever be found alive again.

Ravensclaw Senior was by no means inactive over the eight month period either. He had been furious that two of his assassins had been neutralized in as little as two days. The third, Azeri, had gone to ground to study his subject more closely, so as not to end up the way the others had… in a word… dead. Lindquist was breathing down Nathanial’s neck to produce results from Saber. That had been the one bright light for him in this whole unusual mess, the scorpions had finally broken the old man’s will and he was hard at work for them designing what he called physio-neural interfaces like the ones that had produced The SIX. Saber said he could deliver six suits that would make the wearers the equals of the do-gooders that had been plaguing the Illuminati worldwide. All that Ravensclaw had to do was pick six loyal subjects to bond with the mechanisms, for once bonded there would be no way to control the subjects. Ravensclaw was certain that he had his ways however and soon, The SIX would be defeated and Howard would be dead. It was the one ray of light that kept all of The Council’s setbacks in perspective for him. Ravensclaw had only one other worry that he necessarily kept to himself. He’d not heard from Natalia since she’d fled to Los Angeles and he was beginning to get concerned. The girl had held such potential and to lose her now would be an enormous loss…

Natalia was not currently concerned with anything however. She had embarked on a quest to make herself into a weapon to destroy the man who had stolen her self-confidence from her. Intensive training in the martial arts had transformed her from the once pampered princess to a rock solid engine of pure destruction. She had worked herself to physical exhaustion daily while honing her mind to the epitome of icy calm. She had never imagined the feats she was capable of until her Sensei had grudgingly admitted that she was now his equal in all things save inner peace.

“You will have to cleanse your chi Young Lotus, or it will fail you when you least expect it. The inner self must be as calm as a mountain lake, not as stormy as a great sea. Please learn this lest your anger betray you,” her teacher wisely advised her.

Natalia had been tempted to kill him outright for his criticism, but had stayed her rage, preferring to focus it instead on Greg Howard. Her focus hadn’t stopped her from placing herself into dangerous situations for practice however, crippling her attackers easily and in one case, even killing one of them.. She felt it gave her real experience that could not be gained in the Dojo and though she had trained with a variety of different weapons, she found that she preferred the Philippine Escrima sticks. Stick fighting appealed to her in ways that the edged weapons had not. The seventy one centimetre ironwood sticks could destroy an opponent in no time and were easily carried and deployed when required. After months of training, it was almost time to present herself to her father for his forgiveness and to Greg Howard for her revenge.

To Be Continued

After months of training, it was almost time to present herself to her father for his forgiveness and to Greg Howard for her revenge.

Professor Julian Saber sighed as he glanced around the lab he had been provided with to make the monstrous mockeries of his greatest creations. Thank God, he had managed to resist telling Ravensclaw about the Artificial Intelligences he had created. When the pain from the scorpion stings had turned to fire in his veins and he had sobbingly told his captors about the source of The Six’s abilities, Ravensclaw had set him to work building six new physio-neural interface units that would counter the powers of the great team he had designed and created for the cause of justice.

He was puzzled however by the constant references to the six heroes. Had Doctor Howard chosen not to bond with his beloved Tricia then? Saber had been counting on Howard to take up a mantle of leadership in an increasingly mad world. It was frustrating that he had been provided with no information from or about the outside world in fact, he had very little access to any information at all. He knew his only hope of saving himself lay in the complex programming of the suits themselves. He would create a back door, a sort of ‘off switch’ in the defensive mechanisms of the units that could be triggered by a signal that could be delivered verbally. He carefully coded the last of the programming. In this at least, he knew he was safe. No one on the planet, save perhaps the departed Solomon, could decompile his software. He uploaded the last program to the suits and pressed the simple signalling device to contact Nathanial Ravensclaw.

Ravensclaw was in his office when his secretary announced a visitor. He wasn’t expecting anyone so he was prepared to summon security at the touch of a button.

“No need for the goon squad Father, I just came by to say hello,” a familiar voice spoke from around the corner as Natalia strode confidently into the room. Nathanial’s jaw dropped in surprise at the sight of his daughter. This wasn’t the pampered pet he’d last seen over 10 months ago. No… the woman before him radiated a self-possession Natalia had never had before, and a hardness that was impossible to overlook.

“Darling? What have you done to yourself?” he stared at her in disbelief. “You’re so… so… powerful,” was all he could manage.

“I decided to never let myself fail again. What happened in Bonn will never reoccur… ever. I’ve burnt away all of my weaknesses and forged myself anew,” she spoke with her newfound self-confidence and pride.

“My God! You’re even more beautiful than before… if that’s possible… like a killing blade,” he breathed out approvingly.

“Yes, the same weapon that is going to remove Doctor Gregory Howard from our path Father… and anyone else that happens to get in our way!” She whirled and cast one of her Escrima staves at a bust of Napoleon that shattered into a cloud of random pieces. Nathaniel could only look on in amazement. His child was now as dangerous as a viper or a black widow spider, gorgeous and deadly. He had the beginnings of an idea.

“Dearest Child,” he spoke smoothly, “how would you like to be even more powerful than you are now?”

“If it’s possible, of course I’m interested Daddy… but how?” she asked curiously.

“I finally cracked the problem that was Professor Saber and he has just finished creating enhancement units like those that he’d created for The SIX. I’d like you to have one. You are the one person, the only person on Earth that I trust implicitly. The other candidates are controllable but without certain…” Nathanial grasped for the correct word, “…guarantees, I would not have them enhanced at all. I need you to lead ‘the team’, if we can use the term sans irony. You’ll be in charge and will rid us of the works of The SIX once and for all. Come with me to the lab and I’ll have the others summoned and waiting for us,” he commanded. Natalia retrieved her staff from the ruins of Napoleon and quickly followed her father to the elevator and the 113th floor.

Trish gloried in the speed and power of flying to near sub-orbital atmospheric altitudes. She and Greg were testing the latest improvements to the ACM, which included an Self Contained Bbreathing apparatus of Greg’s design. They were on the edge of space and could see the stars brilliantly gleaming down on them. Greg wanted to see if the suit could take the friction of re-entry without malfunctioning. Solomon and Hestia had calculated that the new matrix would, at the very worst, crystallize slightly and that the nanomechs would be able to repair the minor damage. Greg still considered this an extreme test but the chances of them having to de-orbit without a ship of some sort were very slight at best. He really wanted to test the re-breather and gas tightness of the ACM in general. Trish had volunteered for the test, as she was less likely to panic in the conditions they would be undergoing and Greg had to grudgingly agree. He knew that his most deeply wired instincts would be very likely to kick in and skew the data they were collecting.

she informed him, keeping him apprised of what was happening at all times. The pull of gravity affected them almost immediately as Trish angled their descent to the most efficient re-entry vector. Greg could see the ionization beginning to glow around them as their speed increased. He noted that they were still cool and breathing easily as the friction built up around them. They slid through the upper tropopause into the lower like a hot wire through styrofoam. The Coriolis winds of the atmosphere began to buffet them as Trish made the necessary adjustments to their flight path. The heat of re-entry was bleeding off as they approached the lower levels of the troposphere and she activated the LAR in order to avoid commercial flight paths. At 5,000 metres above the surface, Trish engaged the braking manoeuvres they had worked out to cut their excess speed. A sudden stop travelling at the velocity they were now would kill them, physical enhancements or not. Five minutes later, they had landed in the yard of the AERI, the whole test taking less than half an hour. Hestia and Solomon were ecstatic as the suit came alive with bugs reordering the slightly damaged areas of the ACM. Trish dropped the headpiece of the new suit and uploaded the information they had collected to the base. She was sweaty and wanted a shower more than anything else.

she spoke with deep sincerity.

he admitted quietly.

he responded without guile or shame.

she announced with bravado. She embraced herself and Greg understood immediately that the hug was for him.

Joachim Azeri had trailed Greg Howard around the world over the last eight months. He’d learned Howard’s habits and most of his routine inside and out, and still he was not sure how to go about killing him. He wanted to complete this assignment and get on with his life. Azeri finally decided on a simple booby-trapped letter; the envelope itself wouldn’t be dangerous but the contents would be soaked in a deadly contact poison. He returned to his rented room in Parry Sound to prepare the lethal mailing and wait for confirmation. It was ten days later that Greg collected the mail and opened it. For all of his enhancements, his skin was still porous and the poison immediately began to attack his nervous system.

All of a sudden, his throat started to close up and he couldn’t breathe. He collapsed on the ground and started to convulse. Trish was having trouble functioning as well but the nanomechs rushed throughout their body and began to neutralize the toxin. Joachim had seen the dance many times before and knew that his target was finished. He snapped a quick photo with his cell phone and left the scene. He was back in his room shortly and sending his photograph by email to Ravensclaw with his request for payment. Greg on the other hand was now beginning to get his breath back and lay gasping on the floor of the post office. The paramedics had just arrived and were taking his pulse and heart rate when he regained consciousness. One of them was reaching for the letter.

“Don’t!” he uttered with great exertion. “Please don’t touch that… letter. Use tongs or… gloves…” he wheezed. Greg struggled to a sitting position, took a deep breath and began coughing.

“The letter may be poisoned… please take care… can you bag it?” he directed. The paramedic placed the letter and envelope into a baggie and sealed it. He placed the rest of the mail into a different one and they waited for the O.P.P. to arrive. Don was there within minutes, his young partner Ed in tow.

“Hey Doc, what’s all the fuss?” Don began. The lead paramedic spoke up before Greg had a chance.

“Doctor Howard here was having difficulty breathing and was in the midst of some sort of seizure when we arrived. We loosened his clothing and the seizure-like symptoms disappeared as the patient began to breathe on his own again. The doctor suspects some sort of poison on one of the letters, so we bagged them and waited for you to get here. We’d rather have taken him to the hospital, but the doctor insisted on waiting for you to arrive,” the young woman reported efficiently.

“Damn right I did!” Greg asserted. “That letter is postmarked from right here in town and the poisoner may still be here in Parry Sound. Have your lab people be very careful with that letter Don. I just got lucky… someone else may not be,” Greg warned.

Don raised his eyebrows.

“Just as you say Doc, now go see the doctors at emergency. I’ll be up soon to ask you some questions,” Don instructed.

An hour later at the hospital, the doctors were puzzled by Greg’s tox screen, but as there just wasn’t anything wrong with him that they could find and so they reluctantly discharged him. Don was waiting for him in the lobby. He was oddly formal.

“You were right about that letter Doctor Howard… it was, figuratively speaking, dripping with some sort of poison that the lab boys can’t ID. They also said you shouldn’t be alive. You’re a lucky man Greg,” Don said, raising a quizzical eyebrow and scratching his head.

“Lucky? I’m blessed if what you say is correct,” Greg tried to insert a modicum of surprise into his reply.

“The preliminary lab reports are in and there were no fingerprints on the envelopes except yours and the postmistress’,” Don reported. “We’ve eliminated Carol as a suspect, she was almost in shock at seeing you collapse like that. You were right about the letter being mailed in town, but we’ve absolutely no way of knowing where from. We’re at a dead end for now. Do you have any enemies that you know of?” the officer began his formal questioning, jotting down notes in his little book as he proceeded.

“Oh… probably just the entire energy industry by now, Don,” Greg said facetiously, trying to inject an iota of humour into a very serious situation. “None here in town that I can think of though. You keep investigating here and I’ll try to figure it out from my end as well. If I have any insights, I’ll call you at your office. Uh, could you do me a favour and keep my survival as quiet as you can?” Greg posed.

“You just leave the detective work to us, OK Greg?” Don warned Greg. “I’m serious about this. We’ll be in touch.”

“You’ve got it, Don. Keep me in the loop, OK?”

“OK.” Don agreed perfunctorily.

Don drove Greg back to the post office and Greg took his truck back to the landing. He was fuming all the way.

she interrupted him,

Trish recalled ominously.

Greg posited.

Trish responded logically. They returned to the AERI and cursed every moment it took them. The assassin could be on his way out of town by now and if so, out of their grasp.

Natalia woke up suddenly and looked around her in panic. She calmed when she saw that she was in her own room at the Trade Centre. The last thing she recalled was putting on the cool mesh suit that Saber had handed her and sealing it. She was naked so the ’bonding process’ must have been completed. She didn’t feel any different, so she decided to test her new abilities. Walking over to her wet bar, she took a stainless steel cocktail shaker and gripped it with all her strength. It crumpled like wet tissue. Incredible! She quickly dressed in her fighting outfit and placed her Escrima staves in the thigh pockets. She opened the door and nearly pulled it off its hinges. Natalia laughed aloud, the strength alone was fantastic! She was curious as to what other surprises lay in store. Taking the elevator to her father’s office, she was pleased to find him in.

“Good day Daddy,” she greeted him cheerily. “How are you? I’m feeling Godlike!”

“Hello Sweetheart, you are the last of our superbeings to awaken. Let’s go pay the good Professor a visit and find out exactly what you’re capable of,” Nathanial invited. They rode the elevator to the Professor’s lab and met up with the other five volunteers. The Professor looked up from his notes and scowled, he had hoped for at least one bond failure but his work had been too good.

“Well, it appears you’ve all survived. I’ll tell you all that I can about the powers you now possess and then you’ll have to read the instruction manuals…” he informed them, pointing to six heavy volumes stacked up on a table by the wall, “…that is if you can read,” he commented snidely. “As I call your number, step forward and take your manual. Subject one…”

“George Rico.”

“Whatever. Your suit, aside from the defensive and flight capabilities described in the manual, generates fire of varying degrees from a simple candle’s heat to that of a small nuclear blast… it’s all in the book… step back,” the old man spoke dismissively. “Subject two,” he called out.

“Steven James,” came the reply.

“I didn’t ask as I don’t care,” the Professor was becoming irritated with the whole process. “You have the ability to travel and breathe underwater and to a certain extent, control it. Read the book, step back. Subject three.”

“Sam Munio.”

“I really could care less, are you all deaf as well as stupid? Your strength has been enhanced to approximately 10 times that of the others here. Read the instructions carefully. Step back. Subject four…”

“Lia Tang.” The Professor shook his head sadly…

“Young woman, you can control your size and mass. I caution you to read the instructions with extra attentiveness. Step back. Subject five…”

“Frank West,” came the now predictable response.

“Oh, shut up! Your ability is time. You can affect a very localized chronometric field, it’s in the book, read it well. Ms. Ravensclaw?” the Professor looked up from his task as Natalia stepped forward.

“Your power is speed and enhanced agility. It fits nicely with the training your father told me you have, but use caution, I beg you. Anyway, it’s all in the book. Good day!” he said, disgusted with himself even more than the others. Nathanial stepped forward to address his team,

“Well it seems that you all have some studying to do. Get to it! I’ll expect you to begin training in the arena in 4 days. Natalia, please stay here for a moment. That was very brusque Professor,” he chided the old man.

“Do you expect me to feel pride over what I’ve been forced to do? I have unleashed a great evil on the very world that I vowed to save. I have perverted my very ideals. You’d prefer I do a cartwheel perhaps? Cackle evilly like a mad scientist?” Saber shook his head in repugnance.

“No, you should show some gratitude that you still possess your life! Regardless, I thank you and in return, you’ll be given some small freedoms to create some more miracles for me,” Nathanial quirked up the corners of his mouth. “I have arranged better quarters and a somewhat better equipped lab for you. You see, I can be humane at times… but don’t ever think of crossing me. Good day Professor. Natalia... please follow me,” he turned on his heel and the two most evil people Saber had ever met left the room.

Nathanial escorted his daughter back to her room. The door had been repaired and the shaker replaced. Natalia hid a small, amused grin.

“I’ve taken the liberty of having a costume made for you my dear. It’s over there on the bed,” he gestured in the general direction. Natalia opened the box and found a light garment that looked very much like her current gear along with two new Escrima staves made of metal. She cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her father.

“The material is a lot tougher than the cloth that your uniform is currently made of and it also contains communications gear. The new staves are titanium steel but still as light as your wooden ones. I’ll leave you to come up with a suitable codename. Now study your book. I’ll see you in four days in the training arena.”

To Be Continued

I’ll leave you to come up with a suitable codename. Now study your book. I’ll see you in four days in the training arena.

The AIs at Saber Base correlated all the data on the attempt on Greg’s life and after four days finally tracked the toxin used down to an extremely rare plant found only on Madagascar. It was nearly unknown except to a few esoteric botanists and would not grow anywhere else on the planet. Solomon reported there were as few as three people known to ever have used it in assassinations and one was dead, one was in prison and the last was still at large. Joachim Azeri was their suspect and he was nowhere in the Parry Sound area. The Prof compiled a list of Azeri’s known haunts for them and Greg and Trish took off for Barcelona to hunt down the man who had preyed on them. They carried the Kychiri blade with them as a form of poetic justice and vowed to get proof that Ravensclaw was behind these multiple attempts on their life. Greg was very intent on this because, as he viewed the situation, it was bad enough to try and kill him, but the fact that Trish had almost died as well… that was quite simply a step too far and completely intolerable to him.

The training arena was located in an unknown sub-basement of the massive New World Trade Centre and was usually used for combat training of The Council’s Special Forces, but today it just held six solitary figures. Each one was dressed colourfully if somewhat gaudily, save for one figure in black. Nathanial Ravensclaw sat in the stands and watched as each of the team that he had commanded be created stood awaiting his signal to begin. Nathanial nodded to the controller and the signal for the first of the team was sent.

George Rico had chosen the name Firefall for himself. He was twenty five years old and had been a rising star in Ravensclaw’s legal department. The fact that he’d never even studied law or passed the bar was the reason he owed such loyalty to Mr. Ravensclaw. The boss had pulled strings and George was now able to argue cases anywhere in North America, however what the boss had done could very easily be exposed and his parents would be ruined. This was the hold that Ravensclaw had over him. Firefall heard the command through his costume and activated the flight abilities he now possessed. He shot into the air and activated his heat power. An aura now glowed about him as he took careful aim at the target that sprang out in front of him. He concentrated and a jet of flame incinerated the object. The targets kept coming at him with increasing rapidity and he flamed them all in turn. This was easy. A bolt of energy sizzled past him and shook his concentration so much that he began to fall. He recovered and flew straight at the laser burning it with as much heat as he could muster. The mountings turned to ash and the projector fell to the floor of the arena in a melted mass. He reduced his heat output, flew back to the original grouping and powered down.

“Impressive Firefall, but you must concentrate on all of your surroundings. That laser nearly hit you,” Nathanial glanced up from his notes.

“I understand Mr. Ravensclaw,” George responded.

“Next… Thug? Is that the best you could come up with Sammy?” he asked.

“Sorry Mr. R, it’s what I’ve always been called,” Sam shrugged his response.

“Begin!” Ravensclaw commanded.

Sam Munio had been an enforcer since he was thirteen years old, first for the local mob and then for Mr. Ravensclaw’s outfit. His loyalty was unquestionable and he was feared and respected for it. He’d never expected to be granted the kind of power he now had and he revelled in it. Sam charged straight forward and tore through the steel walls that dropped in his way like they weren’t even there. He was a little afraid of flying, but he wouldn’t disappoint the boss so he activated the lifters and attacked the airborne targets, somewhat clumsily at first but with ever increasing gusto. He spotted the laser out of the corner of his eye and dove to grab a chunk of steel from the floor. He hurled the debris at the projector and was satisfied to see the burst of flame when he hit it. He flew back to the group and landed, dusting off his hands.

“Very good… work on your flight,” was Nathanial’s only comment.

“Yes Sir.”

“Next,” Nathanial pointed, “Mobius… begin.”

Frank West took to the air and flew directly into the oncoming targets. West was one of Ravensclaw’s strategy people. He had been an excellent chess player but had been accused of cheating. Mr. Ravensclaw had taken him in when he was at his lowest and given his life purpose again. The first assignment he had been given was to destroy the life of the player who had accused him of cheating. Cheating? He had used a strategy that was new and innovative and the other man couldn’t possibly counter it. He had used original thinking and that was a sin in the world of chess it seemed. The other player had taken his own life because of West’s actions for Ravensclaw and that had satisfied him. Now he stretched his new time-sense and watched the world slow to half the speed it had been going before the projectiles had fired. He stopped in space and took the time to turn them around, then released them and watched as they destroyed their own projectors. The lasers he froze in time at the first sign of activation and casually broke them too. To the observers he appeared to flit around like a wasp and the weapons actually seemed to destroy themselves. He froze time for everyone but himself and then settled back into the group and then releasing the time lock, he seemed to appear out of thin air.

“Bravo Mr. West,” his boss applauded. “If you will pardon the pun, you’ve had the best time so far.” West just smiled coldly at Ravensclaw and went back to his thoughts.

“Ms. Tang…” Ravensclaw consulted his notes, “…Dragonschild, you may begin.”

Lia nodded and disappeared. There was a sudden rumble from the far end of the arena as she reappeared at twenty times her original size. The leviathan reached up and crushed the laser projector before it could track her then she promptly disappeared again. She reappeared once more at her previous goliath size and swatted the target drones with her hands. She reduced in size back to her original proportions and flew to the waiting group.

“Excellent work Lia,” Ravensclaw looked pleased. “It looks as though she’s beaten your time there Mr. West.” Lia simply bowed her head in Nathanial’s direction.

“Mr. James, your test awaits… Shark is it?” he smiled toward the young man.

Steven nodded and walked to the area that had opened in the floor. He dove into the murky tank. Taking a deep breath, he found it was as easy as breathing air. His eyes adjusted to the dimness as the first target drone approached him. He could actually feel the disturbances in the water and this help focus him on the target. A spear of solidified water skewered the target and he swiftly moved on to the next. He could sense the location of each of his opponents and swept them all up with a wave of his hand. The resultant wave of water deposited the drones neatly on the edge of the tank where they were, at best, ineffective. The tracking laser couldn’t follow his swift movements through the water and he tore it from it’s mounting with ease. Activating his lifters, Steven flew from the water barely causing a ripple. He dropped the laser into the pile of target drones and flew back to his starting point.

“Well done Steven! We’ll have the analysis of your initial test shortly,” Ravensclaw made a notation on his pad. They waited while the field was cleared of debris and the tank was re-covered.

“Natalia…” he tapped the board before him, “…Vengeance, nice choice Dear. I thought you might enjoy live targets. Try not to injure them too badly please. Begin,” Nathanial commanded his daughter.

Natalia watched as the armed men and women took to the field. She took a deep breath and ran. She had never moved this quickly before… no one had. The attacking force appeared to be trapped in amber as she struck at them and disarmed them. She leapt over a dog team and neatly tied the handler up with the leashes. Blow upon blow she rained down on the men and targets before the first even fired his rifle. She was through the mass of men and back at the line just as her last opponent dropped. It was truly amazing to behold.

“I don’t believe it,” Nathanial marvelled. “That was under ten seconds! You were just a blur to us. I hope the high speed cameras caught that. All right people, that was fantastic! Continue the individual drills today and tomorrow and then move on to team exercises. I am very impressed by all of you. Natalia, come and see me when you’re finished training for the day.” Ravensclaw rose and left the training area and the team to continue their practices.

It was 5:00pm when Natalia entered her father’s office. He was on the phone so she amused herself by moving small objects around the room at hyper-speed. Her father ignored the distractions with great aplomb and finished his call to Spain.

“Natalia, I see you’ve finished for the day. I’ll need your input on the team and its potential. As team leader, you need to understand how best to use your underlings,” he pointed out.

“I’ll have a report to you as soon as possible but right now, I feel like I need to eat several pounds of meat. Apparently, it’s how we fuel our powers. You had better set up a team HQ for us somewhere away from here and keep it supplied and staffed,” she advised him crisply. “We’ll want to keep a distance from your legitimate enterprises.”

“That aspect is already in progress My Dear,” her father smiled. “We started construction on a Base for your team as soon as Saber had completed the suits. It’s in New Jersey, outside of Hoboken.”

“NEW JERSEY!?” she screamed.

“Be quiet Dear!” he responded in a commanding tone. “We had a nearly completed war shelter built there for The Council and now it’s currently being modified for your needs. It’s secure and quiet comfortable.”

“OK… I guess,” she pouted, “but I want a condo here in town for my off time.”

Shadowknight had infiltrated the Barcelona underworld by taking on the persona of one of Interpol’s most wanted criminals. It was easier to get information this way but the constant contact with the scum of the city was taking a toll on them both. They had become so many different people that Greg felt he was losing himself to the hordes of personalities and since the almost successful attack on their life, Trish had become cold and driven to find Azeri and the men who had hired him… the men who held her father captive. It was April twelfth when they finally got a lead on the elusive Joachim. He was presently staying at the estate of a St. John Lindquist which was just outside Barcelona, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

Trish urged.

Trish cut him off,

she insisted.

Trish activated the alter-ego file and quickly assumed her true form. Changing the ACM to full battle mode, she attached the katana to her back.

she cut him off again abruptly,

Trish was growing more impatient with each passing second. Besides this, there was the matter of rescuing her father that was weighing heavily on her as well. It seemed to her that he would only be safe as long as he remained useful to his captors… and how long that might be was an ever-present and ominous unknown factor. She felt the clock ticking with every breath.

he reassured her. Greg suddenly felt Trish’s underlying sense of urgency and recognised its validity.

Trish activated all of their defensive and offensive modes and cut in the lifters. The moon was in its dark phase and the scattered cloud cover afforded them near invisibility. They were over the sprawling compound in minutes and saw that the lights were on in the main room. They landed softly in the yard and spotted the cameras immediately. Trish lowered their ambient temperature to that of the night air so as not to be imaged thermally and they crept forward stealthily. Through the undressed windows she could see two figures sitting by the fireplace, one of them old, in his 80s she guessed, the other man in his 40s, small lean and brown from the sun. That was Azeri, she recognised him from the files she’d received from Solomon. The glass of the window was very thick, definitely sound and bulletproof. She uncovered one ear and stretched her hearing to pick up the conversation inside.

“…sure that this Howard person is dead then?” the older man was asking.

“Si… I have witnessed the convulsions of that particular toxin before and death is immediate,” Azeri confirmed. “Howard was on the floor in his death dance. I took footage with my telephone.”

“Good, good,” the old man nodded and smiled, “now Ravensclaw can focus on his main project, the elimination of The SIX. They don’t know it yet, but they will soon enough… they have finally met their match. The Council will once again be unopposed. Here’s your payment… in full.”

The elderly man passed an envelope to Azeri who took it and placed it in his jacket pocket. That was evidence enough for Trish. The old man had tied himself in with both Ravensclaw and Azeri. Re-covering her ear, she drew the katana and dove at full power through the window. It exploded inwards in a hail of glass pellets and shards that showered the room and its occupants.

“What the Hell?” Lindquist shouted. “Where are the Guards?”

“Too late for that old man, I want information and I want it now!” Trish growled. “And you, Azeri, stay where you are or you’ll die sooner rather than later,” she threatened her would-be assassin.

“Who are you to burst in here making demands young woman?” the old man sputtered his outrage. “Your short life just got a lot shorter. I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with here...” he continued his tirade.

Azeri made a dive for Trish who decapitated him with a single stroke. His body lay twitching on the floor, his head rolling to a stop by the fireplace. She calmly wiped the sword clean on the corpse and returned her attention to St. John.

“Oh bringer of light,” she said with a grim chuckle, “Who I am is not so important right now, however, I trust Azeri’s death has proven that I am serious about you giving me the information I require,” she spoke slowly and distinctly in a low, throaty snarl.

“You’ll never leave this place alive and even if you manage to escape, you will be hunted down and eliminated,” he said coolly, “so you’d be wise to consider your next move carefully. The guards are on their way now,” St. John stood his ground.

“I don’t fear you or your ilk, look at this blade carefully,” she held the katana up so it gleamed brightly in the ambient light from the fireplace. “I took it from Hidako Kychiri when he attempted to assassinate Dr. Gregory Howard. I was the one who dumped the body of Paulina Torhammer in the river in Bonn. I am everyone and no one. You can call me Shadowknight. I see you have a pistol there… go ahead, use it… I won’t attempt to stop you…” she sneered at her prey. The old man grabbed the gun and fired thirteen rounds at Shadowknight. He was astounded to see her still standing.

“So… you have body armour,” he hissed dismissively, “but you haven’t a chance when my men arrive.”

“I have a better chance at surviving the hail of gunfire than you do St. John Lindquist. A ricochet will most certainly take you out!” she laughed callously. “Is that how you wish to die?”

The door burst open then and a dozen men armed with machine pistols ran in taking aim on Trish.

“You make a valid point, My Dear,” the old man waved them off. “Tell me what, aside from revenge on Azeri, did you want? You mentioned information… what information would an old man like myself have to offer you?” his tone had changed to a syrupy sweetness.

“Where is Nathanial Ravensclaw?” she replied impassively.

“I would assume he’s in New York City in his offices,” Lindquist said offhandedly, lighting a cigar. “What do you want with him?”

“I want more information…” she spat with disdain, “…information about your little ‘Council’ of tin-plated Gods… information about why he…” she nodded in the direction of Azeri’s disembodied head, “…killed Dr. Howard.”

Greg asked.

she replied

he joked.

she mock scolded him.

“And just what is your connection with the late Doctor Howard?” Lindquist probed.

“I was hired as his bodyguard,” Trish lied, “however, the poison attack by Azeri was not anticipated. My code of ethics forces me to finish this fight with the one who started it,” she responded matter-of-factly.

“Then perhaps I can make you an offer… Shadowknight was it? I’ll send you to Ravensclaw provided you don’t kill him,” he wheezed. “You’ll work for The Council and have more power than you’d ever dreamt possible. Refuse me however, and you’ll soon be known as a common murderer and treated accordingly. How does that fit with your code?” he suggested.

“Your proposal intrigues me, tell me more…” Trish had set her trap and now all she had to do was patiently await her prey.

To Be Continued

“Your proposal intrigues me, tell me more…” Trish had set her trap and now all she had to do was patiently await her prey.

Trish had contacted Saber Base to have a new identity delivered to her in Barcelona. Now she was winging her way east on a very plush corporate jet belonging to Ravensclaw Incorporated under the assumed name of Sachi Watanabi. Before she revealed herself to St. John, she had altered her features to a Japanese cast and created her identity anew. Lindquist had accepted this at face value and attributed her powers to skill and her battlesuit. He had been so impressed with her and her incredible abilities that he had telephoned New York directly and ordered Ravensclaw to arrange transportation for a newly acquired ‘asset’. They were somewhere over the Atlantic when Greg finally spoke up,

he queried her.

she confessed.

Greg paused,

She didn’t answer right away and there was a moment or two of silence as she mulled over what he’d said.

she finally managed to articulate her thoughts.

He probed,

she asserted.

Trish sniffled, then giggled weakly.

Trish smiled inwardly,

Her lover’s humour had returned and Trish managed a small smile.

Greg became more serious about their prospects.

She rejoindered,

Greg encouraged her.

They spent the next hour just enjoying each other’s company and if anyone was watching, they would simply have seen a young Japanese woman meditating. The plane landed at JFK and was met in the hangar by a black stretch limo. Sachi Watanabi exited the aircraft and seated herself in the rear compartment of the car but she soon discovered she was not alone. The big enforcer from Bonn, the one who went by the name Sammy, was seated there as well. He made no attempt at small talk as the driver took The Van Wyck Expressway to Flushing and transferred to the Long Island Expressway heading for Manhattan. They preferred this silence and spent the next 20 minutes looking out the window until the car approached the Queens-Midtown Tunnel.

“Ms. Watanabi?” the large man broke the silence.

“Yes?” she replied without looking at him.

“Uh, traffic permitting, we’ll be at the offices in about a half hour…”

“And?” she prompted coolly.

“Uh, the boss just wanted me to see if you needed anything, you know, before you got there. Uh, like booze, smokes, clothes, whatever,” he offered.

“Arigato,” she replied. “I am fine for now. I am sure that I can get whatever I need later. I was given the impression by Lindquist-sama that Ravensclaw-san would want to see me as soon as possible,” Trish spoke in an affected Japanese accent.

“OK Miss… we’ll be there soon,” Sam shrugged.

The traffic on the FDR drive south was relatively light as the sun slowly rose over the towers of southern Manhattan. It was 7:30am when the limo pulled up in front of The New World’s Trade Centre and they took the elevator up into the spire. The elevator doors soon opened onto a darkly panelled reception area with exotic plants and indirect lighting.

“Please wait here Ms. Watanabi,” Sam directed her towards a chair. “I’ll just let Mr. Ravensclaw know you’ve arrived.” He lumbered off in the direction of an oak door and knocked quietly. Trish stood still and stretched their hearing to listen in as she memorized the layout of the reception area.

“The Japanese broad is waiting Mr. R…” Sam announced gruffly.

“Japanese Woman, Sam, according to Lindquist, she’s hell on wheels.” The door opened and Nathanial Ravensclaw walked across the thick pile of carpet. Trish bowed deeply and waited.

“Welcome to New York, Ms. Watanabi. St. John has told me that you managed to save us a tidy sum of money,” Nathanial smiled and extended his hand. Trish made no move to shake it.

“In the course of my duties to the late Doctor Howard, I’ve eliminated 3 assassins,” she replied dryly. “Unfortunately, the 3rd succeeded in his mission before I could remove him. I am now ronin, without honour. If this is what you refer to, I suppose I did save you your blood payment.” Nathanial slowly drew his hand back.

“Um… yes… indeed. St. John also mentioned you would be willing to work for us now,” he continued more coolly.

“Given the other option offered, yes,” Trish responded humourlessly.

“You are somewhat of an enigma to me Watanabi Sachi. We can find no record of you anywhere,” Nathanial proceeded, probing for a crack in her armour that he could exploit.

“The person you know as Watanabi Sachi does not exist…” she spoke mysteriously.

Greg chuckled.

“I see, so you change identities regularly?” Ravensclaw feinted.

“Hai!” Trish burst out.

“I believe then, that we do have some use for one such as you… you and that remarkable suit of yours. Did you create it?” Once again, Nathanial searched for information.

“The secret of the suit’s design went to the grave with its creator. I have never been able to duplicate it,” Trish lied magnificently.

“Nevertheless, I have a man who might be able to help you with that. But enough of this idle chatter,” Nathaniel smiled crookedly. “Samuel will show you to your temporary quarters. 113 Sam, and make it nice for our guest. Again… welcome.”

Trish bowed once more as Ravensclaw retreated into his office. Sam escorted them to a small elevator some distance away from the rest of the cars. They arrived on the 113th floor and Sam entered a code on a keypad to allow them entrance. He walked her to a sliding panel and keyed another code. The panel snapped out of the way and opened onto a small apartment that was pleasant enough, but there was no mistaking the fact it was a cell.

Hestia, back at Saber Base, fielded the calls from AERIE telling Betina that Doctor Howard was recovering from an illness and was unavailable. The crew at the Biel location sent their best wishes and hopes for a quick recovery and pursued the inquiries no further. Hestia was getting worried. Since Greg and Trish had gone to Spain there had been no contact with them except for the document request. The data feed on their vital signs was steady, but placed them now in lower Manhattan and not Barcelona.

Interlude: Island SIX:

Cossack was growing increasingly worried about Dreamwalker’s actions. The greening of Africa and food distribution projects were fine, but David seemed to be more and more focussed on governments and corporations and less on the people they had been helping.

“David?” he cleared his throat.

“Yes Nikoli…” Dreamwalker answered.

“I wanted to know what you were planning to do next. You’ve been getting more secretive lately and it’s starting to concern me,” the larger man paused.

“I’ve been weighing our options Niki, The democracy riots in Kowloon and their subsequent subduing by the Chinese Government disturbs me,” David fiddled with his pen. “There have been fifteen pro-democracy demonstrations in the last seven months alone and the so-called Peoples Democratic Republic of China has been more brutal each time. I was considering how we might take on the Dragon…” he mused.

“I’m sorry… but are you mad? Even the USA and the former USSR knew enough to leave that sleeping giant alone!” Niki overrode him loudly. “The PDRC is unpredictable at the best of times and it’s also enormous! There are six of us versus a standing army of five million soldiers… and atomic weapons. I have no doubt that the central powers wouldn’t hesitate to go nuclear if we started messing with them,” Niki stated his concerns openly and emotionally.

“Nonsense Nikoli, the Government of China wouldn’t nuke its own citizens…” David started to defend his position.

“The Government of China would nuke its citizens if they thought they were going to get us…” Niki continued pointedly. “The USSR was paranoid, but the PDRC is worse than we ever were. They have one point five billion citizens… a few million deaths would be but a small matter to them.”

“Nikoli, I’ll take your comments under advisement…” David answered dismissively, “but for now, I wish to be left alone!” He turned back to his research and Nikoli strode out of the council room, now more worried than ever.

End interlude.

Professor Julian Saber had managed to defeat most of the lab monitoring systems by feeding them false data, but to this point in time, he hadn’t been able to defeat the locking system on the door here or in his living quarters. The quiet time he gained was put to use finding ways to sabotage the systems’ upgrades and designs he was being forced to create for Ravensclaw. He still hadn’t found a way to get the trigger codes that he’d implanted into the anti-SIX, as he’d nicknamed them, out of his prison to anyone that could possibly use them and since the anti-heroes had been relocated to a base away from Manhattan, he had no way to activate them himself. His only hope lay in the fact that there were really no fail-safes in the bonds. These units could definitely be pushed beyond their limits, which would probably destroy their hosts and the nanomechs. The only problem with that situation was that it could conceivably kill innocent people and he had more than enough weighing on his conscience right now.

Trish laid her hand on the wall of her room and found the security functions that had been built into the room. As expected, they were simple audio and video, nothing fancy. She traced and absorbed the command pathways and settled into a lotus position on the floor in the middle of the room. From here, she could monitor all of the floors’ security cameras, studying their layout. She quickly discovered that someone else was spoofing the security systems as well. She traced the signal and found that it was coming from a laboratory about three rooms away.

she roused him.

He was slightly alarmed.

Trish was more than excited.

Greg interrogated her.

she responded

Greg was fully awake and back in planning mode now.

Trish suggested.

She was over the moon that they had discovered her long suffering father with such relative ease. Hopefully the rescue mission would prove to be just as painless.

Trish sent a command to the cameras to record a 30-second loop and instructed the audio to do likewise. With the loops recorded and in playback mode, she pulled the hood of the ACM into place and activated full electronic camouflage. Effectively invisible, she lowered her body temperature to the ambient atmospheric levels and stood up. Opening the door proved easy enough and she slid it gently out of her way, making as little noise as possible. There were no guards around physically because they completely depended upon the security systems to alert them to any possible trouble. From the doorway, she scanned the corridor for electronic eyes or lasers and the floor for pressure sensors. Finding nothing, she stepped from the room and walked down the corridor to the lab that held Professor Saber. The keypad was standard and was a snap for her to scan and absorb the correct key sequence. The door moved silently aside and Trish stepped in to see her father for the first time in over two years.

The Professor looked up startled and opened his mouth to speak but Trish held up a warning hand and pointed to her ears and the walls. The Professor nodded and remained silent. Trish let the door close behind her and tapped the security system to deaden the microphones in the lab. She filed Sachi Watanabi and allowed herself to become Trish Saber-Howard again before removing the ACM’s hood.

“Is it possible?” Julian Saber blinked. “Is that you Tricia?”

“Yes Daddy, it’s me,” she chuckled and slowly turned around for him to take in all of her, “in the borrowed flesh. So much has happened in the past two years… I’m so glad we finally found you…” her words tumbled out in a rush of emotion and with tears in her eyes, she ran to the Professor and embraced him.

The base for the Hammers was now complete and as Ravensclaw had promised, held everything that six villains could possibly ever need. Nathanial met his daughter in their ready room to get a final update on the team’s status before sending them out to engage The SIX for the first time.

“All I want to know is if they are ready to take on those irritants,” he snarled.

“They’re as ready as they can be Father. They are trained, confident with their abilities and raring to go…” Natalia began enthusiastically but Nathanial held up a finger to caution her.

“Just remember Natalia, these freaks you’re going up against have two years of experience on your team, so don’t be afraid to distract them with collateral damage,” he smirked. “They’ll be so busy dealing with saving lives that you and our team will be able to hurt them badly.”

“I understand completely Father, do we have a target yet?” Natalia asked.
“
Washington DC,” Nathanial divulged. “Take out a few monuments, some tourists and threaten the Government. Terrorist tactics will bring The SIX to you.” Nathanial’s smile chilled Natalia’s blood.

The Ravensclaws summoned the team into the staging area where a sleek VTOL jet transport awaited them. Although they could have physically flown on their own, this would definitely add to the element of surprise. Nathanial addressed the group.

“I have given you a mission that will draw The SIX into a trap. You will be heading to Washington DC to cause a little mayhem and to humiliate The SIX. Create as much damage and as many casualties as you wish, as long as The SIX are defeated before the eyes of the world. Do your worst… do what you were created for... be The Hammer,” he admonished them, a satisfied smile on his lips.

The Hammers boarded the jet and took off for Washington. Nathanial watched the plane leave and then went to the monitor centre to view the anticipated carnage.

To Be Continued

The Hammers boarded the jet and took off for Washington. Nathanial watched the plane leave and then went to the monitor centre to view the anticipated carnage.

On Island SIX, two hours later, the first reports of the attack on Washington were coming in. Watcher immediately sounded the alarm that called the other members into the observation centre.

“There’s a major conflict going on in the States. It seems we’re not the only enhanced kids on the block anymore and those guys are definitely bad mothers,” he explained without preamble.

He punched up the action on the main monitor’s screen in the room and the team looked on in horror at the devastation unfolding before them. The Capitol Building was missing half its dome and had several large holes blasted in it. The Washington Monument was collapsed in a pile of rubble and there were bodies strewn everywhere.

“We have no time to lose people. We have to get there now and stop those maniacs from causing any more death or destruction. Sidestep… take us there, now!”

Dreamwalker’s words snapped them out of the shocked trance they were all in and the team walked through the portal that Carina created into a scene of utter horror and devastation that was ten times worse than what they’d viewed on the monitor screen. There was smoke everywhere and the screams and moans of the injured and dying, along with the smell of blood and burnt flesh, permeated everything. There was a roar of fire and a voice boomed out from above them.

“Well, look who’s decided to attend the party, considering the nice invitation we arranged for y’all. Here… catch…” Firefall tossed a huge ball of fire that came hurtling towards the grouped heroes.

“Scatter people!” Dreamwalker yelled. “Samba, he’s yours!”

The team launched in all directions at once as the meteoric mass hit the ground where they had been standing just seconds ago. Firefall frowned at the escape and almost didn’t notice the exotically dressed woman floating nearby. Suddenly, he felt the air rushing by his ears as he raced toward the ground. He impacted with what felt like 3 times his regular weight and discovered it was getting difficult to maintain his flames.

“A little CO2 ought to cool you down, homem quente. Now just stay there like a good little boy,” Samba trilled.

He prised himself out of the ground and flew at her using the additional weight as momentum. His strike caught her off guard and the impact knocked her through the wall of the Smithsonian Museum. Samba levitated a slab of granite and hurled it at him with all her might but the rock melted before it was within five feet of the glowing man and molten rock rained down onto the plaza below.

Cossack ran towards a tall woman who was hefting the capstone of the Washington Monument as if to throw it. He tucked and rolled to knock her off her feet and she came crashing down. He picked himself up from the debris and looked about for his chosen opponent but she had seemingly vanished. Nikoli was suddenly rising into the air and soon discovered he was in the grasp of a forty foot tall woman who continued to increase in size. She wound up and hurled him at The Mall where he went through the surface to find himself in a cable vault thirty feet below. When he finally struggled out, the giant simply kicked him as if he was a soccer ball. He managed to stop his flight somewhere over the Arlington National Cemetery. Grimly, he ignored the pain in his ribs and flew at his top speed back to The Mall where the battle raged on.

Waverunner saw a woman standing amidst the carnage. Perhaps she was directing the battle he speculated, as she seemed to radiate a coolness that was out of place with the scene. He took careful aim and sent a compressed blast of sonic energy at her. To his surprise, she was no longer where he had aimed but twenty feet from his target. Theo had not even seen her move but she had spotted him. She seemingly vanished and appeared again by a large tree which she uprooted and threw at him with deadly accuracy. Theo blasted the tree with tightly focussed compressed air, but only managed to slow its velocity somewhat. It hit him in the chest and knocked him from the sky to land in The Reflecting Pool. The woman was beside him instantly and as he heaved the oak from himself, she started hitting him from all sides with metal rods at an incredible pace. He couldn’t even see her as she moved about him… she was just a blur. He felt himself start to weaken and the world around him went black.

Watcher moved with all his available speed covering the battlefield, rescuing trapped civilians, aiding the injured and helping the rescue crews as best he could. He had just pulled three people out of what had once been the Lincoln Memorial when a funnel of water from the Potomac River engulfed him. He found himself deep in the murky water, unable to get a purchase on anything as he spun wildly in the vortex. Suddenly he was hit from behind with a force that knocked the remaining air from his lungs. He could neither see nor hear, he couldn’t even determine which way was up anymore. His last conscious thought was that he would never see his family again.

Following the fireball, Dreamwalker struggled to make sense of what was occurring on all sides of him, but there seemed to him to be no logic, no objective to this attack. He couldn’t figure out a battle plan to counter any of this mayhem. As he watched the chaotic scene, he was grabbed from behind by two immense arms that slowly started to squeeze him. David was astounded to feel a sharp pain in his ribcage, followed by a snapping sensation. This wasn’t supposed to be possible his brain screamed at him. The crushing sensation suddenly ceased with the arrival of Cossack who tossed David’s attacker into the ruins of the Capitol Building and followed onward to do battle.

Sidestep watched the bloodbath in horror as citizens and her comrades were being felled everywhere across the historic district. She spotted Theo who’d been hit by a large tree and rushed to his aid.

“Not so fast little lady,” an oily voice spoke from behind her. The quality of the light around her took on a bizarre flicker and she found that even at her top speed, she was no closer to The Reflecting Pool to assist her fallen comrade. Looking around her, she saw that the people and events were moving at a comical speed and noticed the man who had spoken was now floating beside her. She focussed her power at him and transported him to the middle of the Arctic Ocean. All of a sudden, everything snapped into regular motion and she realised that the battle was no longer raging and there was no sign of the villains… only massive devastation.

Carina dodged another ball of flame and created a globe of frozen CO2 to surround her attacker with. She added layer upon layer of dry ice to the ball until it weighed approximately a tonne. She dropped it to the ground not caring whether the villain inside lived or died and turned her attentions to the giant woman that was stepping on people as if they were ants. She increased the giant’s weight, doubling it and adding a factor of two every second. The woman screamed out in agony and rapidly diminished in size until she lay unconscious on the ground, both of her legs broken. Carina then turned her attention to the battle and noticed a blur moving across The Mall. Their opponents retrieved their wounded and trapped and flew off towards a hovering aircraft. As she watched, they flew directly north and out of sight. Sarida flew to the Lincoln Memorial, found Watcher, and carried him back to where the rest of her team was. With their own injured seen to, Sarida, Carina and Nikoli did their best to aid in the rescue efforts in the aftermath of that horrible day.

To Be Continued