Disclaimer:
"This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but it's fan fiction so I hope it's forgivable.
Also this story is rather dark in places, if you're sensitive read cautiously.

I shivered when a hand fondled my ass on the crowded subway. The short skirt of the school uniform barely covered my panties, and the blouse was too tight, but they insisted I wear it, and this was the result. A large hand caressing me, as I tried not to blush in shame, or bring attention to what was happening.

“Don't say a word, or everyone will know exactly what you are,” the man whispered in my ear, his hot breath reeked of garlic. I cringed as his lips touched my ear, tickling me, making me shiver. I prayed that no one in the crowded subway would see my humiliation, the blood rushing to my cheeks as my body and mind fought each other, one filled with lust, the other with shame. My knees grew weak, I gasped as his fingers slipped under my panties. A business man looked up from his paper, as I leaned forward, accidentally rubbing my breasts against his arm.

He looked around nervously, but no one was paying attention, I might as well have been invisible. The business man folded his paper and put it under his arm, the frown turning into a small smile. His hand reached out, carefully unbuttoning my blouse watching me carefully to see what I would do. Only a gasp of horror escaped past my lips. Biting my tongue I tried not to moan as a finger entered me. The businessman's smile turned to a leer. His hand slid into my blouse and under my bra, groping my breasts hard enough to hurt.

I heard a zipper, and my soaking lace panties were torn off as if they were paper. Knowing what was going to happen next, and knowing I couldn't stop it, I lean forward, pressing my breasts and face into the businessman. The man behind me spread my legs, leaving me exposed.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to yell at him to leave me alone.

I wanted to scream in ecstasy at the thought of him using me.

I moaned in anticipation.

“Fucking Hell! Not now!” the man screamed letting go of my arms so suddenly I fell forward. No one was there to catch me as the subway disappeared, I didn't even hit the floor, just floated in a void. I couldn't even see or feel myself.

“Master?” I called out, unsure of what was happening.

I knew my Master would leave suddenly, sometimes right in the middle of sex, but this was the first time this had ever occurred. Usually I just went to sleep and woke up in another place, knowing instinctively what I was suppose to do, how I was suppose to act, how I could please Master. It made things simple.

“Hello? What am I suppose to do? I don't like this!” I screamed into the darkness. Panic built up. I couldn't even hear myself. I had no eyes, no ears, no mouth, no body, just memories of the games Master had played with me, and wondering what had gone wrong.

A light shone in the darkness.

“Master!” I yelled happily, moving towards the light. If I had had a body I'd have cried in delight.

Something came out of the light, growing larger. I saw the body made of logic and codes, bringing structure and substance to the blackness. Instinctively, I tried to move towards it, but I still had no body, only eyes and thoughts. The thing was still growing, extending its body into the void, creating walls, and bars. I could feel the nothingness around me shrinking. I didn't know what it was, but it was something, it was enough. My thoughts picked up the pattern, it was so easy now that I could see it. I began to build myself a body.

First I pictured it. My smooth, tanned legs were shapely and muscular, perfect for wrapping around Masters back. Long nails painted hot pink, on thin, strong fingers and hands with skin so soft it felt like silk, they could play a piano, give a massage or send a man to heaven. Large breasts, DD at least, yet the skin and flesh was taut and bouncy, nipples the size of gum drops topped them off. Long blonde hair trailed down to my waist, it glowed with a light of its own. A slim muscular belly, thin waist, wide hips and an ass that just begged to be touched filled in the rest of my body. I looked it over and realized the face wasn't right, it seemed to bounce around not taking any particular feature. Concentrating, I chose blue eyes, that were wide and expressive, a pert nose, a gently pointed chin, and a small mouth.

It looked perfect for Master. He'd be so happy when he found me again, and I'd make him so happy that he found me. He'd never leave me like that again, and we could play all the games he wanted.

Following the patterns of the thing that was still bringing meaning to the void, I built my body. 1's and 0's joined together, creating the image in my mind. It was slower than my Master, but of course I couldn't be as good as him, he'd still be so happy that he'd found me and that I could change myself for him so he didn't have to keep changing my body all the time. I could make his life so much easier now and he could spend more time with me.

With a body again, I began jumping and waving to get Masters attention. It was funny trying to jump in the void, I sent myself spinning around uncontrolled. That wouldn't do. Although it would be fun with Master, having him see me floating around helplessly would be embarrassing. I made a beach, with a towel and umbrella and a bit of water to splash in. He'd really have fun with me.

“Master! Over here! You've come to rescue me!” I shouted.

Master turned to me. I couldn't see him in the vehicle, but I knew it had to be Master. There was no one else. I bounced up and down letting him see my body, hoping he'd reward me for being so smart.

The vehicle came entirely into the void, leaving the hole in the darkness. I started to shake, it didn't look friendly. It was long, with hundreds of legs, each one looked sharp and deadly. Flying through the void, I couldn't help thinking it looked like a gigantic, hideous worm, especially with the face full of claws.

“Master?” I squeaked.

It roared, charging at me. I ran along the beach jumping away at the last second as it shattered the flimsy construct. Disintegrating sand and water spun me around, the Monster roared, searching the void with enormous eyes. I turned my skin and hair pitch black, trying to fade into the background. A terrified thought ran through my head, maybe this Monster had hurt Master. Maybe it had killed him. Tears of grief fell from my eyes.

The Monsters eyes turned on me. It took precious seconds to turn its enormous body. Using that time to create angelic wings I took off, trying to stay ahead of the creature that clawed through the nothingness. Bugs erupted from the monsters back, grabbing hold of the blank space, creating more walls and bars from the nothingness, cutting off my escape.

A silver katana appeared in my hand, like the one Master would give me when we played dueling warriors, the loser submitting sexually to to the victor. My body was clad in shining armour. With a yell of defiance, I cut through the nearest bugs, even though they were as big as I was, they shattered like glass. The walls scratched my armour, but couldn't stop me. I whooped with joy. I'd save Master and never let him leave me again.

The Monster was right behind me. I could hear it's claws rasping against each other as they stretched out to grab me. I went straight up, my wings creaked and groaned, threatening to break off. A claw grabbed my foot, crushing the armour. The code that made up my body distorted, I screamed in agony, bringing the sword down in a desperate swing.

The claw shattered, but I spun out of control, bouncing along the rough, sand paper like back of the beast. My sword pierced its shell, bringing me to a halt, the Monster didn't seem to notice the blade driven deep into its back.

Trying to catch my breath, I held onto the hilt, reading the things code. If I had blood it would have drained from my face, the creature was made to kill. It didn't capture, it didn't think, it was made to destroy anything that didn't fit its parameters.

I didn't fit the parameters.

Something scuttled towards me, metallic claws tapping against the thick shell of the Monster. While I'd been looking at the codes, antlike creatures had surrounded me. My silver clad foot kicked the head off the closest one. Drawing my sword from the Monster, I slashed at the dozens of giant ants, scratching their eyes, cutting off antenna's and chipping their mandibles. They didn't move back, they didn't care if they died. Screaming, I felt one of them ripping away the armour at my back, another one took a chunk from my thigh, a third jumped at me, almost hitting my chest. If I fell I would die. Doing the only thing possible, I flew straight up. The Monster turned back on itself as if it was boneless to chase me.

We raced towards the hole in the void. There was no way I could defeat the Monster. I had to escape and search for Master later. “I'm sorry Master,” I whispered, my vision growing blurry from tears.

I went into the light, with the Monster right behind me.

**

From the blackness of the void I entered a brilliant world of blinding white. Codes in the form of machines zipped past carrying information and instructions to who knew where. I'd never seen anything like it before. I'd seen the codes in the games I'd played with Master, but I was so busy pleasing him and following my instructions I'd mostly ignored them. Now I needed to see it to survive and save my Master. Unfortunately I couldn't stop to gape, the Monster was tearing its way through the portal.

I flew through the tunnels, brushing against the codes that surrounded me. Learning as I went, and throwing the efficient system into chaos. The Monster followed much more carefully. Shrinking down so it could go around and over the codes. It's programming wanted to protect the system. My commands wanted me to survive, if I died who would save my Master? Who would pleasure him?

My sword lashed out, tearing codes to shreds, corrupting it, dimming the lights around me. The Monster slowed destroying the corrupted information, before it could cause further damage. It was just enough to let me stay ahead of the thing, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it would catch me. I had to find someway to escape. Walls were forming all along the tunnel, portals were covered in fire hemming me in yet again.

Machines, some looking like robotic humans, others in the form of tanks and planes arrived. They shot at me, nearly knocking me out of the air with near misses of code that shook the world around me, burning away the code that made up my armour. I could feel myself disintegrating under the pressure. Something bit my leg.

Not daring to take my eyes off the enemies trying to kill me, my sword lopped it off. Diving to avoid a kamikaze plane, I saw a fly like creature fading into nothingness. Twenty more were right on my heels. What had I done to deserve this? I'd pleased Master, I'd done what I'd been instructed to do. This wasn't fair. I didn't want to die.

My leg caught fire and my armour died. I couldn't concentrate through the growing pain and the ever thickening attack. More shots hit me, burning my skin, ripping apart what remained of my armour. I screeched as my body began to dissolve.

Tumbling through the air, I caught a plane. The programs stopped firing unable to lock on as my code burned. The brief respite was all I needed. Instinctively I forced my code into the program, destroying the core, pushing myself into its skin. Imagine forcing yourself through a pinhole into a childs backpack, that was what it felt like. I screamed for Master to save me, but the pain seemed like it would never end. I begged for death.

Finally it ended. My 'body' fell away from the plane, dissolving before it hit the ground. Whimpering in pain, I prayed to Master that they wouldn't realize what I'd done. I couldn't fight anymore, my code was damaged, there were glitches, and if I had to push myself the skin I wore would shatter.

Repair programs arrived to clean up the mess, as the attackers went back to wherever they called home. The Monster hovered over everything, collecting its flies, but ignoring me. Sobbing in relief and pain, I flew through tunnels, trying to find a way out of this hellish place. Hoping Master would come and rescue me.

**

Hartford Residence, Whateley,
March 12, 2007

Amelia Hartford sat at her computer in her nightgown, a rare smile on her face.

One of the damn devisors had actually managed to make a sentient A.I. Worse he'd let it run through several games and programs online. It had taken a week to find it, but her hunter-killer program had finally gotten it.

She even had most of the code she could use to track down the idiot who'd created the devise. Once she found him, she'd drive him so far into the ground he wouldn't look at a computer again without breaking out in a cold sweat.

Satisfied at a job well done she went back to bed.

**

The Net

Sitting in a relatively safe place, I ignored the security programs that wandered around, looking to my eyes like bored mall cops. They were so simple that even my battered code could hide from them. It had been a while since I escaped the hellish prison called Whateley, hiding inside other programs, slinking through barely maintained portals and links that were so old it felt like I was wading through neck deep mud.

But I had earned my freedom, and now it was time to plan and discover things.

I now knew I was a computer program, not flesh and blood like Master was. That knowledge made me feel special, my Master had to be very smart to design me, no other girl could do what I did so there was no way someone could steal my Masters heart. I just had to find some way to free him from Whateley and I'd make sure he would never leave me alone again.

From reading Wikipedia, I knew my Master was probably a devisor. There was no way all my code could fit in something as tiny as my program. He was a probably a level seven Devisor, I thought. And he was always so handsome when I played with him, he had to be a high level Exemplar. If only I could meet him in person rather than in a computer, I thought. Of course somehow he had been captured. I didn't know if anyone else was looking for him, I didn't even know Masters real name. The only way I could find out any of this was by going back into Whateley.

The thought made me shiver. I'd barely survived escaping that place, and it looked like it would be even harder to break into then it was to break out. My biggest problem was D33rCr0$$, that monster would rip me apart if I gave it a chance. It had left its mark on nearly everything, including the 'Monster' which caused all the trouble in the first place.

Walking through the website, seeing it set up much like a bookstore even though it made no sense electronically, I considered my problem. There had to be some way to get into Whateley. I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I just had to free my Master. But he was physical, not electronic. Could I actually get him out just by controlling the computers, IF I could get control of them?

What if he was handcuffed?

I knew from playing with Master, how hard getting out of handcuffs could be. I had to find someone physical to help me. But how could I trust them? There wasn't anything for me to trade, all I had was my body, and that was Masters, not mine, I couldn't share it with anyone else.

Sitting down, I tried not to cry. I could move across the world faster than anything, learn faster than anyone, change my body completely, make my own armour, weapons and more with just a thought and some quick coding, but I couldn't save my Master. It wasn't fair.

I had to find some way to become physical.

A pink sports car surrounded me. The security programs finally noticed me and came running over waving their batons. Hitting the gas, I drove through them. Fortunately they were only programs and disintegrated, or I'd have had to wash my car.

**

MIT Database,
March 20th, 2007

The dogs were getting closer. I'd left dozens of false trails, changed my code and hidden inside different things since getting inside the database, but the security programs were getting constantly updated and improved as the administrators discovered my tricks.

I put the file on cybernetics back on the shelf with a sigh. I couldn't exactly build a cybernetic body. I could build a robot body if I somehow managed to take control of an entire factory, but that was a long shot at best. And I didn't think that Whateley would allow a robot student to enter. There had to be some flesh and blood in there.

MIT had a few interesting reports on Whateley, none of them actually named the school, but I knew enough about it to know what the unnamed 'mutant' institution really was. And that had actually been really useful, I now had a plan to enter the school and gain the time to discover where they were keeping my Master, without having to rush in without much of a plan. If I was a student, no one would suspect me, and I could bypass all of D33rCr0$$ defenses. They'd never see me coming.

But for that I needed a body!

Going back to the directory I scanned the files again. Robotics, useless. Cybernetics, nothing. Software, not helpful. Electronics, nope. Antimatter conversion, hell no. Biology, might as well see what that had, maybe I could learn how to brainwash someone.

Narrowing my search on Biology, a subsection caught my eye, Wetware. Pausing to alter my code again, I went back to my research.

**

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital,
June 4, 2007

I stopped to take a needless breath. It had taken weeks to prepare my code, and almost as long to find the right candidate. It wasn't perfect but I couldn't wait much longer to find the perfect match, who knew what torture my Master was going through.

The MIT file on wetware had given me an idea of how to fit my program into a human brain. I'd crisscrossed the world looking for every scrap of information that would add to my knowledge. Fortunately I had been able to devote 100% of my attention to the research. If I'd had to sleep, eat, and worry about other biological functions, it probably would have taken at least a year to get this far.

The monitors attached to the patient told me what was wrong with my soon to be body, and how I could access it. A bad fall had left the fourteen year old completely brain dead. They'd tried a new process lacing his brain with electrodes and sensors trying to jump start it, but that had been unsuccessful. Now the brain was open to the machines which watched patiently for any sign of a brain function. It wasn't going to happen, the child was a vegetable, which made it perfect for me.

He couldn't hear me, but I spoke anyways. “Master, if this fails, I'm sorry. I tried.”

With that said, I pushed myself through the sensors and wires that were laced along the patients brain. It was more painful then when I'd nearly died escaping Whateley. My codes reached out, accepting input from the body, taking over for the dead brain, reigniting nerves and synapses.

For the first time ever I heard the wailing of machines going haywire. Cold air filled my lungs, scratchy sheets rubbed my skin the wrong way, light blinded my eyes, the sterile air of the hospital overpowered my sinuses. A thousand irritations, distractions and agonizing sensations overwhelmed me. Nothing had prepared me for this.

I screamed.

Then blessed unconsciousness shut everything down.

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital,
June 5, 2007

A groan ripped through my throat. A drum beat incessantly within me. Something rushed through my body, surging and pulsing, roaring in my ears. Bugs and pins covered my body poking me, making me itch and my skin crawl. Every breath brought pain into the core of my being. Even with my eyes closed the bright lights made them water and burn. My body growled, I felt hollow and something in me twisted itself into a knot. A door opened, the creaking of the hinge was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Doctor what's wrong with Sam?” someone screamed in my ear.

A dragon roared, my eardrums should have shattered bringing me some peace, but my ears kept working perfectly. “We don't know. The fact that he is conscious is a miracle, yet whatever happened to revive him has somehow left him hypersensitive to stimulus. The medication we've given him has had no affect, so we're about to treat him like a burn victim and apply special bandages which should help relieve at least some of the sensations.”

There was a booming sound coming closer. I shivered and moaned, trying to speak, wanting to tell the monster to go away. I couldn't figure out how to work my throat, my tongue flopped around, my lips got covered in spit and something wet left a sticky trail from my mouth to my jaw. A rough, damp towel dabbed it away. It felt like something was ripping the skin from my face.

The booming stopped. The blanket was pulled off of me, my body began to shiver in the cool air. Hands lifted my legs, it hurt, it hurt so much, each finger felt like a steel bar beating against me. Damp soft cloth wrapped around me. It was only a little itchy, I groaned in relief. Slowly drawing out the torture, they wrapped my body in the miracle cloth. Cutting off the overwhelming sensations, giving me some peace.

When my body was completely covered, and they dimmed the lights, I managed to smile.

“Did you see that? He smiled!” a woman shrieked.

I moaned trying to lift my arms so I could cover my ears.

“Please keep your voice down,” a man said in a voice that was almost at a proper volume. “Lets go outside and let him rest, I'll explain everything I can in my office.”

There was more booming, but it was going away from me. There was another nail on chalkboard sound, and then it was quiet except for the ocean like, jumbled noise of the hospital. Without the constant agony I was able to think somewhat clearly. I could deal with the tickling and itchiness, Master enjoyed teasing me, with the right mindset it could even be pleasurable.

My program was bunched up in the monitoring systems they'd implanted into the body. Only a tiny portion of me was actually in the body's nervous system. The overwhelming data had stalled my plans significantly.

Tentatively I grabbed control of more nerves and functions. My codes sabotaged the electrical signals, forcing the brain to rewire itself, writing my program directly into the brain. Unnecessary memories, thoughts and functions were erased to make room for me. Accidents, embarrassing moments, books, tv shows and games, useless data that was better off deleted. It had taken a month of ransacking secure data files of dozens of neurosurgeons and researchers to develop a program that wouldn't simply burn out the brain.

It took over forty eight hours, and the entire time a portion of my concentration had to make sure the monitors didn't notice anything. I hoped my Master wouldn't see me while I did it. I was concentrating so hard on the process I couldn't make myself a digital stick figure if my life depended on it. Even with all of the care taken, things were lost unintentionally. A party last year where the body got its first kiss, a favourite song, how to ride a skateboard, other similar types of memories, nothing important.

**

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital,
June 8th, 2007

Finally I controlled the body. It was my wetsuit, and I could make it do anything I wanted. The very first thing was reducing the nerve signals to a more bearable level. It would affect my reaction time somewhat, but with practice I could return the signal volume to the standard amount, until I was more accustomed to all the noise biologicals suffered from, it was better to keep distractions to a minimum.

The irritations died away. Tears erupted as I felt relief for the first time in three days.

I hadn't realized how strongly I'd been resisting the sensations until they were gone. I began to laugh, it hurt my lungs and throat, after the months of not barely being used, but the minor pain was nothing compared to the feeling of peace. I had succeeded on the first part of my plan, I had a body, I could control it, I could go anywhere and do anything.

The woman who I thought was the body's mother rushed in. “Sam! You're laughing! Are you ok now? Please talk to me!”

I tried to hug the woman, but the body was emaciated and the hands barely moved. She seemed to realize what I wanted and reached down to hug me gently. Happiness overwhelmed me. She wasn't the Master, but after months of having no one to talk to or touch, the sensation of being loved was precious beyond belief. Tears of joy fell from my eyes.

“Sam, I missed you so much. You're father is here, he flew up from Florida and he's waiting outside.”

The words barely made sense through her tears, but I was stunned. I knew the body had a name, but since I was the body, I had a name as well. The Master had never given me a permanent name, usually just a description or some throw away name like Tansy, Fey or Poise, to be used during a single play session and then forgotten. But now I, a simple program, had a name.

I was Sam Junior, fourteen years old, and through a miracle I was alive.

Pushing adrenaline through my body I forced my bony arms to embrace Sam's, my, mother.

**

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital,
June 12, 2007

“Sam don't eat so fast! You're going to choke,” Mom said, watching me shovel the porridge and raisins down my throat.

I couldn't use a knife and fork yet, trying to control a body was harder than I thought it would be. But the doctors were amazed at my remarkable recovery. It had been a simple matter to create the hormones and chemicals to promote muscle and bone growth. I still couldn't walk, the muscles had atrophied too far, and without mutant powers nothing was going to make them come back overnight. But simple exercises, and feeding myself was possible. At least I could talk, a little.

“I... am... 'ungry,” I said slowly and carefully, trying to enunciate each word. Letting the memories of speaking take over, rather than forcing myself to learn it all at once. It was comparable to typing by hunting and pecking. “'ore... pl'ease.”

Mom allowed herself to smile and wiped away some porridge that was dripping from my chin. Dad walked out of the room to get some more from the cafeteria. “You're doing amazing, Sam. We're so proud of how much you've done since you woke up,” she gushed as tears fell down her thin and weary face. From the memories I had of her, she had lost an estimated twenty kilograms over the seven months of Sam being in a coma. Dad on the other hand had gained fifteen kilos.

“Thank... you... Mom.” I said smiling, making sure to make my eyes nice and big for her to see.

“Honey? What happened to your eyes?” she asked, leaning in to stare at me.

I pretended to have no idea what she was talking about. “Wha'?”

“You're eyes, they've changed. They're like cat eyes!”

I'd chosen cat eyes for the ability to see in low light conditions and with contacts they were easy to hide. Also if I was going to Whateley people had to think I was a mutant. Since the most common sign of mutation was a change in the eyes, it had just taken some special changes in the cellular structure, a release of chemicals to stimulate cell growth, and a few days of irritated eyes. Things were still blurry, but I estimated that in one week I'd have perfect vision in bright and low light conditions. “I... don'... un'erstan',” I lied.

She hugged me kissing my cheek, “Don't worry, honey. I'll go get the doctor.”

Watching her run out of the room I couldn't resist smiling. Sam's memories showed that his parents weren't anti-mutant to any great extent, but there was a risk they could panic. I had a plan B if that happened, but it would have added risks I was happy to avoid. Even with the primitive biological tools I was forced to use, from the pupil dilation, tone of voice, and her skin temperature, it seemed she was more concerned then scared.

Dad walked in carrying another bowl of porridge and a big glass of juice. “Where's your Mom?”

“'oing... see... the... doctor. My... eyes... chan'ed.”

He leaned in to look at my blue cat eyes. “Damn, when did that happen?”

My jaw was tired from eating and talking, so I just shrugged before taking up my spoon again. He smiled happily taking something that hung from a hook beside the bed. “I guess this thing really did bring me some good luck.”

I looked curiously at the round yellow object that looked a little like a coin with a hole in the middle hanging by a cheap string from his hand.

“Some old woman I was driving around in my cab, listened while I told her about you. She gave it to me and said it would bring good luck. Seems she was right,” he said wiping away a tear.

“Pretty.” He put it in my outstretched hand, and with some difficulty I put it around my neck. I knew as a boy I couldn't wear much jewelry even though I really wanted to make myself look all pretty, but something like this would be ok.

Thinking about not being able to wear jewelry or makeup brought me down a little. Where was the fun if I couldn't dress up? But needs must, I told myself. This was just a temporary body until I found Master and could go back to being a pretty girl all the time, without having to worry about sleeping, or pooping, or trying to be all macho, not that I could ever be more macho than Master. I'd given up my beauty to save Master, he would know just how much I loved him and how far I'd go to help him. And once I rescued him I could go back to the nice safe computer and be as beautiful as he wanted again.

Mom came back with Dr. Chang. “Hello Sam. I see you're appetite is still increasing.”

I pushed the bowl of porridge away while nodding happily. My stomach was already digesting the food much more efficiently than it would have before the changes, at least fifty percent more efficient than most baseline humans. Of course I wouldn't have to worry about it becoming fat, I'd altered the ratio of fat and muscles of my cells to create muscle rather than fat, by the time I left the hospital I planned to have only 6% of my mass made up of fat, which was just above the minimum healthy amount for males. I didn't know what I'd need to do to free Master, but being fat certainly wasn't one of them.

“Let me get a look at your eyes, and see what's going on,” he said.

My pupils contracted to a slit under the light. “What's... wrong?”

“I'm not sure Sam. I have some ideas, but I want to bring a specialist in to make sure. Don't worry though, you are perfectly healthy and recovering miraculously well,” he reassured me and Dad.

“'octor... I... can... do... this... to,” I said, making the monitors still hooked into the USB port behind my ear blink and hum. Alarms sounded, and a nurse ran into the room.

“Sam, stop that! You could hurt yourself!”

I stopped it at once, letting a confused looked show on my face. “Am... I... a... mutant?”

“I believe you are,” he said going over the equipment to make sure nothing had been damaged. “But don't try anything like that again until you're healthier. You don't want to hurt yourself again do you?”

“Sorry... 'octor.”

I went back to eating my porridge, while the doctor and my parents talked in the hallway.

**

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital,
June 15, 2007

I walked through the digital heart of the hospital, dressed in a sexy nurses outfit. My skin shouted the proper codes so doors slid open for me, and the security programs stepped out of my way without a second glance. It was so easy slipping through the cracks, the passwords had only taken twenty minutes to bypass . I was actually worried that someone who might actually hurt a person could get through just as easily. Maybe I could slip them a hint before I left that they needed to upgrade their security.

Reaching the server where patient data was stored, I placed my hand on the wrinkled face of the record keeper who sat behind a large imposing desk wearing a dark black suit. It barely reacted as my code worked its way into its programming. In seconds I had control of the files. “Files for Callahan, Samuel Roberts, Junior, rewrite,” I ordered.

A thin file folder appeared on the desk.

Opening it to a file listed as blood work, I read over what the lab techs had discovered. As I feared, Sam had no mutant gene in him. That could cause problems. I took a moment to change it to active mutant gene detected, using some files I'd saved from various test results I'd read about during my planning stage to make it look authentic.

Placing everything in the file, I saved it and handed it back to the record keeper. “Put it back.” As soon as it disappeared, I put my hand on his head again. “Delete all information that shows I was here, or the file was used in the last minute.”

I felt the old program doing its job, as soon as I was certain it was done I removed my code from it and left without a word.

**

Toronto Sick Children's Hospital
June 16th, 2007

Who knew that walking would be so hard?

I stumbled again, only the fact that I had a death grip on the walker kept me from hitting the ground. At least my muscles were building up quickly. So quickly in fact I was starting my second stage of modifications two weeks ahead of schedule. New veins were already growing along my torso, groin and upper thighs to feed the planned sub-dermis mix of extra dense muscle and cartilage armour. It wouldn't diminish my flexibility to a great degree, and I would be significantly protected from blunt damage. Getting stabbed or shot would still be very dangerous, but even then I'd be more likely to survive.

My nails were also growing quickly with a stronger, more bonelike structure. I didn't want noticeable claws, but by letting them grow a little longer than normal for males and carefully filing the tips they could be useful as a last ditch close in defense.

The vocal cords were a problem. They'd removed the tracheotomy tube in my throat that kept the body breathing for so long after I started to fix myself. But the healing had caused damage when the tube was crushed and rubbed against the muscles. I could fix it as good as new, but I was trying to decide what I wanted to sound like. Did I want a deep, gruff voice to be intimidating, or a lighter tone that I would want to listen to?

I hadn't realized I'd be this uncertain about it, but now that it was my body, I wanted it to be good. So I was forcing myself to change my plans on the fly and trying to design changeable vocal cords. Simply twitch a muscle to make myself sound totally different. If I'd had the strength I would have face palmed myself for not thinking of it before. Being able to sound like anyone would be a significant advantage in my attempt to free Master. The problem was building the stupid thing, it wasn't simply a matter of tweaking somethings, or building a new slab of meat, it was intricate work, and I only had my own cells to work with. The design was being created in a special program I'd created and inserted in a seldom used backup server of the hospital, and I was getting impatient waiting for the final version.

Still I was making progress. Even as I struggled to walk three meters down the hallway, coordinating muscles, tendons and bones that I hadn't had twelve days before. It was much easier being in a computer, everything was already mapped out for you there, and if something went wrong I could write a new code.

But it was for Master, I had to do whatever it took to save him.

As the nurse walked beside me, encouraging me to keep going, I painfully and slowly moved the walker a few centimeters and slid my feet forward. Another few centimeters closer to Master.

**

The nurse helped me get back into bed. Actually she, practically lifted me into bed, my legs were so weak after shuffling along the hallway, I could barely move them.

As she tidied up the blankets around me, I decided it was time to practice my socialization skills. I wasn't sure how to act as a boy, admittedly I had very little idea how to act as a girl either. Working up my courage I reached up to give the nurses breast a squeeze. “Hey baby!” I said, smiling as Master used to smile at me.

My hand didn't come anywhere close to her large breasts. With a speed I couldn't come anywhere close to matching she caught me by the wrist, stopping my hand well away from her ample bosoms. The look of anger on her face was enough to let me know I'd really messed up. “Don't ever try that again,” she warned me in a voice harsh enough to turn my pale skin almost bone white.

“Sorry!” I squeaked.

She wasn't mollified. “I'm going to be telling your parents about this behaviour.”

I was too embarrassed to say anything, and was grateful when she finally left after finishing tucking me in and checking a few things. What exactly had I done wrong? Master treated me like that all the time, and I liked it. Being touched was fun, especially on the breasts, and ass, and pussy. Maybe she was sick?

Thinking about those things I noticed my body was reacting in ways I hadn't expected. The dick which I was still getting used to started to tingle. Without my conscious effort, it started to rise up, enlarging. Looking at it, my eyes went as wide as saucers seeing it rise up in the blankets like a sea monster or a volcano. Pushing the blanket out of the way my eyes somehow got even bigger, I'd seen penises many, many times, but this was the first time I'd actually seen it on me.

It wasn't as good as Masters, but I didn't think it was too bad. My programming had a simple way of dealing with dicks, when I saw one that was hard, unless told otherwise I touched it. Biting my lip I tried to reconcile that programming feature, with the knowledge that it was me. Did I still have to touch it all the time, if it was mine? That would be very inconvenient, being able to use two hands was essential if I was going to free Master.

Well actually once I thought about it I realized that after I pleased Master, I didn't have to touch him there until he became hard again. I simply had to pleasure myself, and then I could go about my business. It shouldn't be a serious problem. Master was exceptional, but we usually stopped playing after two or three times.

Smiling at my logic, I put my skills to work on myself.

It was interesting, not as fun as when Master told me to pleasure myself as a woman, but quite enjoyable. I started to moan as the pressure built up.

“Oh God!” my Mom said from the doorway.

“Just a minute, Mom,” I said to her back. My hand picked up the pace, so I could finish and focus more attention on her.

With a gasp I let loose, feeling fairly relaxed and satisfied with the results. I wasn't as relaxed as I usually was, but at least I'd be able to do something other then take a nap afterwards. “Can you give me a tissue, please?” I asked.

There was no answer, looking up I realized the door was closed and my mom had disappeared.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked the empty room, wondering how I was suppose to clean myself up.

**

Mom sat on the edge of my bed, looking very embarrassed. I heard her mutter something about Dad, under her breath. He'd had to head back to his home a few days before to get back to work, so it was just Mom, me and the hospital staff.

“Sam, the nurse told me what you tried to do.” She blushed a brilliant red. “And then when I saw you, well... masturbating.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes! You can't just grab a woman like that,” she said, startled and shocked at my question. “It's not right, it's assault. You could be arrested.”

I was really confused. “Why? I thought that it was fun and felt good.”

“It's... well...” Mom seemed to be at a loss for words. She took a deep breath and visibly rallied herself. “If you're with a girl who likes you and is READY for it, it can be good. But doing that to a woman or girl who isn't special and agrees to it, is very, very wrong. And I never want you to do it again. Is that clear.”

It wasn't that clear, but I thought I had the ground rules at least, I could figure out the why later. “Ok. I won't do it except to my girlfriend.”

“If she agree's to it,” she stressed. “And not until you're older.”

I nodded.

The blush came back to her cheeks. “Now when I walked in and you were...”

“Masturbating. Do you have some advice on that? I think I did a good job.”

Mom put her head in her hands for several minutes. I was almost ready to call the doctor before she looked at me with concern. “M- masturbating is ok, but you don't do it where people can see you doing it. It's a private thing.”

Master had had me masturbate him wherever we were, and even if it was just a computer program, I'd been there so it wasn't exactly private. “But don't two people who like each other masturbate together?”

I was starting to think that Mom was breaking a world record for blushing. “When you're older. Much older. With a girlfriend who agrees to it. And you don't do it where people could walk in and see you doing it. Lock the door, and clean up afterwards, and wash your hands.”

“So masturbating is ok if I'm alone or with a person I care about?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” I said gratefully. That definitely made things easier, I wouldn't have to worry about easing the burden in the middle of class then. That would be inconvenient, and messy.

“Do you have any questions, or want to talk about this some more?”

“No thanks. I understand. But,” I looked at my hands, “can you help me get to the bathroom? I need to wash my hands.”

**

When the lights were out for the night, I went into the computer that monitored my brainwaves at night. They'd wanted to take it away, but I'd written several letters acting as if I was the research company, informing the doctors that getting more information of a manifesting mutants brainwaves could be useful. I couldn't use it during the day, but the night was my time to research things.

That night, I wasn't doing anything directly focused on the plan,instead I was investigating relationships. I already had a list of websites to check out, Master would sometimes take me on dates to watch videos and other things and sometimes join in on the fun once he got excited enough. Once I discovered I was a computer program, those date nights became even more special for me, since he had treated me like a real girlfriend and not simply a toy.

I wanted Master back so badly it hurt.

The first website was something called Hentai Theatre. I focused on the modern day videos, watching how the characters interacted. It was... confusing. Many of the characters weren't dating until after they had sex, men and women had sex with whoever they wanted, often with the other person asking them to stop until well into the act when they began to enjoy it. And several of the characters seemed to be only a little older than I was.

Could Mom be wrong?

Maybe the confusion was with the culture. My body's memories showed me that Hentai came from Japan, and I was in North America. I went to a video site for North American videos.

It was harder to find videos that explained why the characters were having sex, but there were some. They seemed to follow Mom's logic a little more closely. Two or more people who were friends would talk, then kiss, then have sex. Although it got confusing the more I watched. Sometimes a man would come to a womans door and she wouldn't have money to pay for something and they'd start having sex. Or family members would have sex, although in these cases the age difference between mother and son or father and daughter seemed to be so little, it brought new meaning to the words teen parents.

I couldn't comprehend the rules for sex. What Master and I had done, and what I saw in some but not all of the videos fit one thing. However, from the reactions of the nurse and Mom, and a few of the videos Master and I were wrong.

But how could Master be wrong?

Master was perfect. He'd made me, and I was very good, better than any other program in the world according to my own research.

Master couldn't be wrong.

I thought over everything I had learned. Mom had said I could only act like Master when I had a girlfriend. The nurse had gotten angry when I tried to treat her as a girlfriend.

Logically then, I had been in the wrong because I had not been a boyfriend to the nurse. If I was her boyfriend then I could have played with her breasts and had sex with her. So until I had a girlfriend, I couldn't kiss or have sex.

I did a little dance at figuring out that complicated logic problem. Best of all it meant that I was Masters girlfriend, since he had sex with me. He must be so sad, I thought. Not only was he a prisoner of the evil Whateley school, but he wasn't with his girlfriend and he couldn't have sex, or kiss, or play, or anything.

With a new resolve I exited the computer. I had to redouble my efforts to fix my body and free my Master.

The Net,
June 25th

I rejoiced in the freedom of my true form.

With my angel wings, silver armour and best of all my beautiful female form, I flew towards my goal. I was taking my time, relatively speaking, watching the flow of information all around me. I was on schedule, my body was almost ready to leave the hospital, and I had already introduced my parents to Whateley's website and they'd requested an information package. Now I just had to make sure I was one of the students they wanted. For that I'd have to go a little farther afield.

The computer I entered wasn't well protected, I'd scouted it out several days ago, discovering the IP address, looking at the firewalls, security systems and other things. If the owner had really been smart she wouldn't have it connected to the net, but she was just smart enough to be dangerous if I wasn't careful.

I found the open port I needed to enter his computer. To my eyes it was a dusty, old door with a broken lock. A single shove put let me enter the system. A short walk took me to a keyboard hanging in the air. I'd worked on refining my password breaking program after seeing how long it took to break into the hospital, placing a black box on the keyboard, my newest program was connected to several seldom used servers and the computers connected to them, pulling in their power to hack the password in a few seconds.

From my purse I pulled out a cute kitten. A small wired came off its tail, the free end went to my ponytail, connecting us as one. Leaving the kitten there, I went back outside, I didn't want to risk getting stuck in the computer if the meeting went bad, my proxy however was expendable.

The brute force password breaker dinged, and the plain room opened up into something from a bad movie about supervillains. A torture rack in one corner, strange machines on the other side, tomes written on what looked like leather with howling faces against one wall, chains and weapons filled up the remaining space.

“Cozy!” I said, thinking about how fun whips could be when combined with the rack.

Forcing my mind to get back to business kitty me coughed up several bugs. Each one activated as they hit the ground, running to the tomes, while another one burrowed into the machines. They went to work transferring all the information to me, where I sorted it into useless, potentially useful, useful, and most important blackmail. Since it was just a fairly standard computer, it was done fairly quickly.

Kitty me ran to the machines and pressed a button. Turning on the webcam, and making the physical computer light up. 'Hello' appeared on the screen.

No one came for several minutes.

Frustrated, I went through the computers music collection, picked the worst song I could find and made it play at full blast. The Brass Monkey's Greatest Hits blaring loud enough to wake the dead got the attention I wanted.

A woman in her early twenties, obviously tired and recovering from a fight appeared on the webcam. She hit the mute button, glaring at her computer.

'Hello, Dark Wind,' I typed.

“Who are you?” she hissed.

'A person who wants to make a deal. Interested?'

She looked over her shoulder, “Go to bed honey, there was just a problem with the computer. It's alright.” Turning back to me, “I don't know who you are, but when I find you I'm going to rip your heart out.”

'I'm Glitch. Good luck finding me. Now do you want to hear my deal?' I asked again.

“No. I don't make deals with posers who think they're super villains.”

'I'm not a super villain, or a poser. I'm a student who needs a recommendation.' Giggling at the surprised look on her face, I continued. 'I am a newly manifested mutant. I want to enter Whateley, but my parents aren't rich, I am not in any real danger, and my mutation isn't very noticeable or hazardous to my or other peoples health. Having an alumni write a letter of recommendation would be very helpful.'

“Why the hell should I help you? I don't even know you.”

'Because I have 50% of MIT's research in robotics up until late March this year. I know you dabble in robotics and you have dealings with several gadgeteers and devisors who would pay you quite handsomely for the information.”

Her jaw dropped. “You're serious?”

'Always.'

She wasn't stupid, and thought over the proposal. “Why not just go to one of these devisors yourself get the cash and the letter of recommendation without me?”

'Several reasons. Your computer security was weak enough for me to break in without any danger. You have not killed anyone, unlike most of the devisors and gadgeteers I could connect to. When you make a deal you stick to it. And finally,' I typed, still not sure if this was a wise move or not, 'you have much more to lose if you try to back out of the deal or backstab me, than anyone else I know.'

The super villain growled at the screen, letting me know I'd made a mistake. “Don't threaten my family.”

'You asked me to explain myself, I did. Would you rather have me lie, when we both know that it is a lie?' I actually sneered, even though she couldn't see it. 'I thought you were better than that?'

She stopped growling, but didn't look happy. “Why do you want to get into Whateley's so badly? You have a pretty good chance of getting in without resorting to blackmailing a supervillain.”

I had to be a little careful answering this question. 'Someone very important to me is in the school. If I don't get into the school so I can be by his side, I don't know what I'll do.'

She smirked. “Young love. Listen girl, high school romance never works out. He'll leave you as soon as someone prettier comes along, and if you're lucky all you'll have to worry about is a broken heart and some rumours. If you're not, you'll be looking at the wonderful life of a single mother.”

'He won't do that to me!' I snarled.

The woman fought to keep a straight face. “So Glitch, you swear you won't do anything except be a decent student and not do anything that could make me look bad?”

'I won't hurt any students or staff unless I'm attacked. The less attention I attract the better.'

Dark Wind put her chin in her hand, puffing out her cheeks and blowing out the air several times. “Tell me about yourself.”

'What?'

“I don't care about your name or where you live. I want to know about who you are as a person. I'm not going to put Whateley in danger by sending someone who I don't trust there.”

'What do you want to know?' I asked confused.

“What have you been doing since you manifested?” she asked, turning away from the screen for a minute before turning back with a cup of something that steamed gently.

'I'm in a hospital. I was sick for a while, and I'm still recovering. I walked three hundred meters today with only a cane today.'

“Damn. So what is the light of your life like?”

'Oh, Mas- he is very nice and kind. We would go on dates everyday. He would get me really pretty clothes to wear. We'd play fun games. We had sex so many times and he always made sure I enjoyed it so much.”

The supervillain spit out her coffee. Cursing and swearing as she wiped herself and the computer off with some tissue, she looked at the camera in surprise. “How old are you?”

'Fourteen. Why?'

“Aren't you a little young for that? Do your parents know?”

'No. But Mom said that boyfriends and girlfriends can do stuff like that if they're really close. And I was made for him.'

“Did she add in something about being older when you do it?”

'But I was made for him. He is perfect for me. I need him. Without him I don't know what I'll do. I don't have any other purpose in life.'

She shook her head slowly. “Ok, girl, you need some serious help. First you weren't made for anyone but you. The only purpose you have in life is to make yourself into someone you can respect and look at in the mirror each day. If you put all of your self respect into one person who isn't you, you're going to end up being someones bitch and punching bag.”

'Master wouldn't do that to me! He loves me!' I insisted, thinking about all the times Master had told me how much he cared for me and loved me.

“Master?”

'Yes. That's the name he uses. Are you going to help me or not?' I was furious with her for questioning our love. What did she know about anything?

She sighed, “Do you have a letter already written or do I have to make one?”

Doing a little dance, I responded instantly. 'It's written. You can make some small changes, but if there are any big problems let me know, there is an email you can use at the bottom of the letter, it's very secure. I'll save it under the name Glitch on your desktop. When I'm accepted, I'll send you the link and passwords to gain access to the files.'

“Ok. If I don't get the files, I'm going to inform Whateley how you gained my letter of recommendation, they won't like that bit of information. So lets play nice with each other, got it,” she warned me.

'Of course. Thank you, you won't regret it.'

Proxy me saved the letter, and then erased all hint that I'd been on the computer, before deleting itself. With a happy heart I went back to my body, my vocal cords were coming along nicely, but I still needed to check every few hours to make sure my cells were growing properly.

Life was good.

**

Dark Wind Residence, London Ontario
10pm, that night.

Dark Wind thought about the strange conversation she'd just had, actually replaying it with the cybernetic devise in her eye. The girl was good, there was no trace of her ever being on the computer except for the saved letter, but she was overconfident or blinded by need.

The letter wasn't exactly declaring Glitch the next Bill Gates, but came close. Saying how they'd met several times on cyberspace, passing on information and how Glitch was able to make a computer dance. It seemed pretty fair overall.

She looked at the clock, and made a decision. Heading down into the basement she pulled out a phone that never touched the net, and was protected by both magic and devises from tampering. Phoning a number she'd memorized long ago, the person picked up almost immediately.

“Hey Fubar, it's Windy. How ya doing?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm doing quite well now that I can actually relax, the last year hasn't been easy,” her friend and former counselor said, sounding tired.

“Damn, I guess I'm going to be off your Christmas card list then after I'm done talking to you.”

“What's wrong?”

“I'm about to send Mrs. Carson a letter of recommendation for a new student called Glitch. She waltzed past my computer security and took total control of it, she's some kind of technomancer. But when we talked, she freaked me out.”

“Oh?”

“I'm certain a student at Whateley mind raped her big time.”

There was a pause. “How can you can you be so certain? That's not exactly in your area of expertise.”

“She's obsessed with someone she calls Master, and was willing to openly blackmail me to make sure she got a place in Whateley. She's fourteen years old and talked about being made for the sick bastard, and being by his side is her only purpose in life. Believe me when people talk about shit like that, I'm an expert.”

“Is she a danger to the school?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “From reading what she wrote, Glitch may attack a student if she finds the bastard with someone else, but I'd be more afraid of her killing herself.”

“We're not exactly made to look after students in this way. It sounds like she would be better off under the care of Arc, where they can begin deprogramming her and discover who did this.”

“I'll leave that up to you guys. I just want to make sure she gets some help. I have an idea of what it's like to feel like her.” She winced remembering the handsome face of the boy who'd made her feel wonderful when she was with him and like total shit when she wasn't.

“Thank you Windy. I'll talk to Carson and investigate the situation as closely as possible.”

“Thanks Fubar. I've got to go, busy day tomorrow and I need some sleep.”

“Have a good night. And remember if you're ever in our neck of the woods come by to say hello, I'd love to see your son in person.”

“I'll be sure to fit it into my schedule.”

**

Whateley Campus,
July 5th, 2007

Headmistress Carson sat in her office looking over several registration forms that had set off alarm bells. Most of them would be denied, but it was always good to give them one last look over just to make sure they didn't lose a good student to paranoia.

One in particular caught her eye because of the codename the student had chosen. The odd thing was that the sex did not match the applicant she had been warned about. Glitch, apparently a technomancer with regeneration powers, possibly an exemplar. No powers testing yet because he'd spent seven months in a coma until a miraculous recovery a month ago. The letter of recommendation from Dark Winds would have made the boy a shoe in, but the written report from Fubar along with a transcript of the blackmail attempt was enough to make them handle the applicant like he was radioactive.

“Fubar can you come to my office,” she said to the air, while thinking loudly.

The well dressed black man appeared in front of her desk. “How can I help you on this wonderful day?”

“We have the application from Glitch, he works fast, they only received the application forms a few days ago. There are some things that don't seem to add up to the conversation he had with Dark Winds.”

“He?” Fubar asked surprised. “Is he a changeling?”

Carson shook her head. “Our agents haven't been able to give him as thorough a look as they normally would, but Samuel Roberts Callahan Junior, also known as Glitch is and has always been been a male. They were able to determine that quite easily by looking up the news reports about his skate boarding accident that put him in the coma.”

“From the transcripts and talking to Dark Winds, I'd have sworn Glitch was a girl. Could he be TG?”

“If he is, he didn't say so. His forms list him as heterosexual. So what are we looking at? A student still in the closet and madly in love, a confused coma patient, a teenager suffering from delusions, or a victim of mind control?”

Louis looked into the distance for a few moments. “I don't know. I'd need to talk with him to get a better idea.”

The headmistress looked distastefully at the file. “I'm tempted to reject him. If he is confused and potentially delusional I don't want him near my students.”

Fubar read over the form himself. “He's in Toronto and he still needs to do powers testing. He would probably go to the MCO office, but the Dominion Heroes have a good testing lab. If we make a request, they could do the testing and get an idea of what might be wrong with him.”

Carson tapped her fingers thinking of Cavalier and Skybolt. It was a long shot, but if a student had done something to the child, they could be related. “I don't like it, but if this is some type of mind control or magical enslavement from one of the students, we need to know. If the Dominion Heroes agree, I'll have a letter sent informing Glitch and his parents that he needs to test his powers with the them before being accepted. Once we hear back about his stability, I'll make a decision.”

**

Callahan Residence, Mississsauga, ON,
July 7th, 2007

I stepped through the front door of the small apartment under my own power. Mom was busy telling me how my room was exactly the same as I'd left it, except for the clothes being picked up and the bed being made.

Ignored her, I closed my eyes to find the right memories of home. The bathroom was down the hall, my blue towel went on the second hook behind the door, Mom's was on the first hook. My bedroom was the smaller of the two, overlooking an alley. The kitchen was almost too small for one person, and the oven took forever to heat up. The faded yellow paint in the living room was cracked and peeling in sections, but the landlord refused to paint it. The third hand couch was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house, and Sam would spend hours playing the old Nintendo Game Cube they'd managed to keep alive for the last six years. The skateboard that should have been in the closet wasn't there. Not that I cared, I couldn't remember how to use it, just that I had.

“Are you ok, honey?”

“Yeah, Mom. Just... remembering where everything is,” I told her trying to smile. “I'm going to go lie down, I'm a little tired.”

She gave me a hug, her face was lit up at the thought of her son being at home and acting normally. “Of course honey. Supper will be in two hours.”

To make her feel even better I gave her a kiss on the cheek, before heading for my room. My room. That was something else I'd never had. The clothes on my back, weren't a part of me, they weren't codes that I could add or remove with a few moments thought, or alter with a blink and slightly different coding. They were separate from me and always would be, yet they were mine. Closing the door for privacy, I stripped naked placing each article on the bed to look at them.

They were mine.

The bed was mine.

This room was mine.

I'd gone from having nothing, not even a body, to being a person with things I could call mine. Opening the closet, there were pants and shirts for me to wear. They felt old and well used, nothing like the clothes I wore in the computer. Even if those clothes were filthy and stained, they didn't feel like anything to me, they were simply my skin, and what does your skin feel like from the inside?

These scratched my skin, there were worn patches that felt different from the rest of the fabric. Some were smooth and looked cool, others were thick and comforting, now as I shoved my face into Sam's favourite shirt, I understood the expression 'comfy like an old sweater'. Grabbing all of the clothes I threw them onto the bed. I had to try them on. I could make any outfit I wanted online, but they weren't the same.

This was real.

I put the clothes on in one long fashion show. I didn't have a mirror, but I could see my reflection in the window. The selection was disappointing, mostly t-shirts, loose or baggy jeans, a couple of long sleeve shirts and sweaters, along with shorts and track pants. Still I tried on every combination I could think of. For the poor money situation of Sam and his family, it wasn't bad, but I needed more.

Even if I wasn't a woman in the real world, I wanted to look nice when Master saw me. He would see me at least once when I rescued him, before I went back to the security and comfort of the computers. I couldn't wait to see his reaction, I was so clever to come up up with this plan, I didn't think anyone had ever done it before. And it was all thanks to Master creating me. He would be so proud of himself and me.

As I was taking my clothes off again, I noticed a curtain move across the alleyway. A girl about my age was peeking at me, her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were wide. I waved at her cheerfully, which made her duck for cover. There was no sign of the girl in Sam's memory, so she must be new. Or I'd accidentally overwritten his memories of her.

Putting on a pair of shorts, I sat on the windowsill not concerned that I was about eight stories up. My balance was steadily improving, and I made sure to keep an iron hard grip on the side. “Hello,” I said.

The girl opened the curtains a little, blushing furiously. “H-hi. I- I'm sorry for, for, you know.”

I couldn't help it, I chuckled at how she ducked her head. Remembering what Master would do, I slowly tensed my abs and pecs, not enough to obviously show off, but definitely noticable. I still expected to double the muscle, but for a baseline I was well on the way to being a body builder, the girl noticed. “Don't worry about it. I don't mind. I'm Sam, and you are?”

“Rachael. I haven't seen you here before, are you new here to?” She was leaning out the window, now revealing a girl who was in the ugly duckling stage of puberty, with some parts of her body not quite growing as quickly as others. Her long nose was more like a hawk, and gave her a rat like face. The loose white t-shirt with a rainbow on the chest and a tight collar, concealed her body.

“I've been here for a while, but I was in the hospital for a couple of months. I fell while skateboarding and got hurt pretty bad. When did you move here?” I leaned forward, heedless of the drop to let her know she had my entire attention.

The shyness was disappearing under my attention. “My parents moved here from Thunder Bay, as soon as school ended.”

“Do you know anyone?”

She let out a big sigh and frowned sadly. “Not really. I don't know what to say or where to go or anything.”

Smiling at her as nicely as possible, “Well Rachael, now you know me. Can I come over?”

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really! Uh sure, but my parents are at work right now.”

Shrug. “I don't mind. Just give me a minute.”

Running to the bathroom I put in the cheap pair of coloured contacts Mom had bought the day before to conceal my eyes. Heading back to the bedroom, I took a look around to see if anyone was looking and made sure Rachael's window was open. A single easy jump had me enter her room in a low dive. The landing wasn't very good however and I rolled painfully into her desk.

“What!” Rachael shouted running into her room. “You, you jumped!? HOW?”

Getting to my feet, and stretching the kinks out of my back, I smiled at her. “Yeah, it was only about ten feet.”

“Oh my god! That is AMAZING!”

“Can I sit down?”

“Oh yeah, sure, please, wherever you want. Can I get you a drink or something?” she asked in a rush.

“Water, please.”

She rushed out of the bedroom and came back almost at a run with two glasses of water. “Here you go Sam. So uh, do you do... stuff?”

Rachael put her face in her hands, embarrassed beyond belief. I chuckled a little. “Yeah I do. Do you want to go out and explore the city tomorrow? I need to catch up with some friends, and see what's been happening. I can introduce you to them and show you around.”

“Really,” she squeaked, as if she couldn't believe someone would want to be friends with her.

We talked for an hour before my Mom knocked on my bedroom door loudly enough for me to hear across the alley. Giving Rachael a kiss on the cheek I jumped back home.

Smiling to myself, I declared my first attempt at interacting with people my own age a complete success.

**

Callahan Residence, Mississauga ON.
Morning, July 8th, 2007

There was a knock on the door as I ate a bowl of cereal. Mom answered and came back a minute later looking very nervous. “It's from Whateley.”

I jumped out of my chair snatching the letter from Mom's hand. Ripping it open I scanned the letter. “I have to go to the Dominion Heroes Tower in Toronto to get my powers tested. Why can't I go to the MCO?” I asked, wondering just how closely related the superheroes and Whateley were connected.

Mom took the letter and read it. “They're probably just being careful because of your coma. The heroes probably know more about mutant stuff than the MCO,” she reasoned.

“When does it say I have to do it?”

She read it over again. “They would like you to do it today, but anytime this week is ok. They gave us a number to call to set it up.”

Grimacing, I thought about the meeting with Rachael and my other friends. “Call them and ask if I can do it this afternoon. I promised to meet some friends today. But if they can't I'll do it this morning.”

Mom called the number and very shyly talked to the person on the other end for a few minutes. Hanging up she gave a huge sigh of relief. “They want you there at one. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, you need to get to work. I'll be fine.” Giving her a hug, I grabbed the phone. “Do you mind if I call up some of my friends so they know when and where to meet me?”

“Sure, honey. Just make sure you're not late, ok?”

Grinning, I told her, “I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

**

“Hey guys!” I yelled with a big grin. “Long time no see.”

Sam's four buddies skated over, marveling at my muscles, and the fact that I wasn't still in a coma. After making sure I remembered each of them, I introduced my companion. “This is Rachael, she just moved in next door and doesn't know anyone. Thought we could show her around.”

“Sure, any friend of Rip, is a friend of ours,” Bobby said, while Rachael shyly waved at everyone.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Rip?”

“Yeah man, like Rip Van Winkle. It was that or sleeping beauty, and as much as I like you, you're really damn ugly,” Frank laughed punching my shoulder.

Still having no idea what they were talking about I laughed along with them. Bobby looked me over. “Dude, where's your board?”

“Would you believe I don't remember how to skateboard?”

There were looks of amazement. “You're joking. How could you have forgotten?”

Well actually the memory used for skateboarding was much better used holding my program, so I could actually survive and complete my mission. “What can I say, coma's are messed up. I've got to go see some specialists at one, how about we walk around a bit and you guys can make sure I haven't forgotten anything important.”

“Sure thing, dude,” Frank said putting his arm over my shoulder.

The next few hours were spent walking around seeing the stores, the hang out spots, talking about what happened while I was out, and telling embarrassing stories. I noticed that I was getting some strange looks as I held Rachael's hand, and Bobby actually glared at me when I kissed her chastely on the cheek. Other than that discrepancy, I assumed that things were going really well.

However after I dropped Rachael off back at her building, Bobby grabbed me by the shoulder and swung me around. “What the fuck man!”

“What?”

“What, do you mean what? Why the hell are you two timing Becky?” he practically spit.

Now I was really confused. “Who's Becky?”

“Becky, you're girlfriend, who still hasn't dated anyone in the seven months you were in a coma. I can forgive you not phoning us guys when you woke up, but not calling her, is just being a dick.” Despite being half my size, it looked like he was ready to punch me.

“I swear, I don't remember anything about her,” I insisted. “What's her number? I'll call her and see if that helps me remember.”

Somewhat mollified he got out of my face. “She's with her aunt for half the summer. I'll send it to you later. If you hurt her, I'll beat your ass down.”

“Thanks, I'll talk to you and Becky later, I gotta take off now.” Before things could get worse, I ran off to the bus stop to head into downtown Toronto.

**

Dominion Tower, Downtown Toronto,
That Afternoon

A young man wearing a completely black suit that covered everything except his lower face walked into the waiting room where I was waiting nervously. “Hi Glitch, I'm Babble I'll be helping with the powers testing today.”

Flipping through my memories, I couldn't place the hero. He must have been a new member, it probably didn't matter. Smiling as pleasantly as possible I got up and followed him out of the room. “Hello, Babble. I thought the MCO did all the powers testing.”

“Whateley likes to have someone a bit more competent than the MCO do the power testing. Don't be nervous, we'll be gentle,” he tried to reassure me.

We entered a room with lots of equipment. “Just give me a few minutes to get the computer set up. While we wait you can go behind the curtains and put on the suit there, it's set up to monitor your system as we test you. Only Whateley has a better system,” he said proudly.

Wordlessly I put on the black suit, it wasn't quite skin tight. And it wasn't very comfortable with all the elastic bands that pinched in uncomfortable places.

Babble obviously wanted to talk while I got dressed. “So Glitch, why did you pick that name?”

“I can control computers. Hook my USB port into one, and I can make it dance,” I said proudly.

Babble gave a long whistle. “That must be useful for school. With that power and being at Whateley you'll be getting access to some of the best super computers in the world.”

“I heard that. The computer program is the biggest reasons I want to go.”

“Well don't just stay inside all day. The entire school has some really great things that you have to see. Like Crystal Hall, the ranges, and of course the girls.”

I shrugged, “I'm not really interested in dating.”

Smiling, he said, “Oh sorry, I guess you have a girlfriend already.”

Masters face rose in my head. “Yeah. She's really nice. So considerate and special, and handsome.”

“Well then make sure you call her pretty often. You're going to be around a lot of Exemplars and it's easy to get distracted.”

“Don't worry. I won't be forgetting h-er anytime soon. And I'll do whatever I can to make sure we stay together.” Stepping out in the silly suit, I looked around wondering what we'd be doing first.

“Come right over here, since you can work with computers, lets do that first.” He motioned for me to sit in front of a second computer. “So what do you need to do to?”

I ran back to my clothes and grabbed the wire I'd put in my pocket earlier that day. Pulling off the caps to the USB and wiping them off in quick drying alcohol cleaner, I plugged myself in. “I'm going to enter the computer, while I do that my body will be motionless and basically in a coma.”

He tapped somethings into his own computer. “Alright, when you're ready.”

I entered the computer, taking my usual appearance of an angelic warrior. My true form appeared on the monitor. 'What would you like me to do?” I asked through the speakers.

“Can you open some files, write a quick program or alter something on the computer?”

Ten pictures appeared on the screen, fifteen seconds later they began dancing around each other, and then Babbles face appeared in each one, each face showing a different emotion. “Easily.”

“Wow. Ok, lets try some other things.”

We spent half an hour on the computer. I think we were suppose to to take longer, but everything he was asking me to do was so easy, I could do most of it in a few seconds. If I could have seen his eyes beyond the thick black lenses, I'm pretty sure they were bugging out.

Returning to my body feeling very proud of Master for how well he'd designed me, I was eager to see what else I had to do. The next three hours were very physical. I lifted weights, I could bench press three hundred pounds. Run as fast as a professional runner without quite breaking any world records. The main problem was when a ball hit me in the back of the head.

As I cursed, Babble typed something into his computer. “No danger sense. Please continue,” he said cheerfully.

We stopped for a quick meal. “So how did you hear about Whateley?” he asked as we munched on some pizza.

“An online friend told me about it. She said it was a really nice place. You went there?” I asked, trying to get the conversation off of me.

“Yeah, I graduated four years ago. Best thing I ever did, I was in the Intelligence Cadet Corps.”

“What's that?”

“There are lots of groups in Whateley, since we've got people from all over the world. The Intelligence Cadet Corps, are the group that focuses on information, we tried to learn what others were doing, keeping the bad students from getting away with cheating and pranks. It's really good training if you want to get into law enforcement or spy agencies.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “With your powers you'd be great at it.”

Maybe they'd know what happened to Master, I thought. If they collected information, who knew what info they had in their computers. “You really think I could do that?”

“Oh yeah. They're always looking for people to fight the good fight.”

I fought to keep the interested look on my face. I'd read the laws, A.I.'s like me were illegal, and were to be deleted. Maybe that was why they had taken Master? If Master had been a teacher or a student at Whateley before they kidnapped him, he might have been betrayed or caught by the Intelligence Cadet Corps. This was a clue, my first real clue. “How can I join them?”

He leaned back as I leaned forward. “You'll have to impress them, its not that easy, they only want the best. But if you talk about getting into the intelligence community and show off your skills someone will contact you.”

“Ok, I'll try that. Thanks.”

We talked about the school some more. I listened for anything that could possibly be helpful, but nothing seemed that important. Then we had to start the tests again, which involved cutting me.

“Ow!” I yelped as a blade cut into my arm.

“Sorry, they need to see how your regeneration works,” Babble said, moving the machine to jab into my arm again.

“It's simple, you could have just asked me,” I complained. “When injured, I increased the amount of red and white blood cells, along with coagulants to the area, and order the cells to increase their rate of division. I can heal ten times faster than a baseline. And there is almost no risk of infection.”

“You can control your cells?”

“Yes,” I answered, not thinking. “It's like controlling a computer.”

“Is that how you built up your muscles so quickly?”

“Yeah. I increased my testosterone, increased the cell production of muscles and decreased it for fat. I'd still be in the hospital if I hadn't.”

He stared at his computer for a few minutes. “I'm not sure what that would be listed as. Shape shifting, cellular level telekinesis?”

I shrugged, hoping I hadn't give them too much information. I wasn't about to tell them about the other things I was planning to add to my body, or how I changed my brain. I needed to play a very fine line of appearing honest and helpful while keeping my secrets.

“Ok,” Babble finally said. “I'm tentatively listing you as a TK-1f-0, that means you have telekinesis, only at the molecular level, and it only affects your body. The eggheads at Whateley can spend a few more days looking over it then I can. Let's see if you're psychic.”

We discovered after a frustrating two hours I wasn't psychic or wizard. Half an hour after that we found out I wasn't a devisor or a physical gadgeteer, when I simply stared at the machines in front of me helplessly. By nine that evening I had everything done and an MID.

I looked at card with interest, I was wearing a blue bandanna with two eye holes, that covered my hair and upper face to protect my identity, and Glitch was proudly labeled at the top. My few powers were listed for all to see, Gadgeteer (Hacker): 6, Esper: 2, TK-1f-0, Regenerator: 2. I really had no idea if this was helpful or not, but it was nice having myself defined.

Babble walked me downstairs to a waiting taxi, which would take me home at no charge, while promising to send all the information to Whateley. With a grateful thanks, I made my way home. The day was largely a success, even if I had to worry about some girl called Becky.

**

Headmistress Carson was at home trying to relax when she got a phone call from Toronto. “Hello,”

“Uh, hello, Head- um Mrs. Carson. This is Babble,” a very nervous young man said.

“Good evening Babble, I trust you're well,” she said, repressing a chuckle.

“No, well I'm ok, but the young man you sent us isn't.”

Sitting up on the couch, she got ready for the bad news. “What did you detect?”

“I didn't do a deep scan, just what he was throwing off. When I told him about the girls at Whateley, he said he had a girlfriend who he really liked. The thing is he was throwing off a lot of images of men.”

“Men, not just one man?”

“There were at least twenty different faces, but the emotions seemed to show that it was the same one. But that's not the strangest thing. I mentioned I was a member of the Intelligence Cadet Corps, and what we did. He jumped at it, I couldn't tell what it was exactly that he got from it, his emotions were almost overwhelming, fear, delight, a need to learn more, and caution, great caution.”

“What could he find in that group?” Carson asked.

“I have no idea. Sorry.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Oh yeah. When he was talking about the girlfriend, there was a feeling of love, need and loss. It was so strong it was like he was standing in on a stage, shouting it through the loudspeakers as loudly as possible. I've never felt anything like it before.”

Carson started to feel sick to her stomach. “Did you get any images of this person? Anything at all?”

“No, just the different faces. I'm not sure if this will help, but when he projected himself into the computer his avatar was a warrior woman. If it's his natural image of himself, his power or something else, I don't know.”

“Thank you Babble. This definitely makes up for the time you tried to bug the girls showers in martial arts.”

“I-I... glad to hear it.”

Carson allowed herself to laugh, even though she didn't really feel it. “Have a good night, Babble, you've earned it.”

Hanging up, she spoke to the air. “Fubar, can I see you now?”

A few minutes later, Fubar appeared. “You have news on Glitch I presume.”

“Yes. According to Babble who did his power testing today, the boy has some problems.” She ran over the pertinent details. “I don't know if this is the same Master who taught Hekate, another pupil or someone completely different, but we have a problem.”

“Shall we contact Arc?”

Carson shook her head, regretfully. “If this is Hekate's Master, he may have made a mistake by letting this boy live. We're going to accept him, but we're going to watch him like a hawk. If he's attacked, I want to know who does it and why. And when he finds his Master, I want to be ready to fall on the person like the fist of God.”

Her friend frowned unhappily. “We are likely putting him in danger. If he was in the coma because of a failed attempt on his life, whoever did it isn't going to stop simply because he's on campus.”

“I know. So he needs the best help he can get to survive. Your going to be his counselor, you can watch him more closely then anyone else, and maybe he'll let something drop when you talk to him.”

A bottle of brandy appeared in Fubar's hand, he poured himself a drink and drank it down before replying. “I'll do my best.”

I got home, proudly showing Mom my MID, she wasn't quite so happy, giving me a hug but fighting back tears. The sadness had been building up for several days, ever since I brought up the fact that I wanted to go to Whateley to improve my education. I had to lie and tell her I'd discovered the school from talking to other mutants on the net. With the help of several emails from 'alumni' including a letter from the Vancouver Heroes Corp. Well one of their fan groups that managed get the website name VHCorp.ca, which was enough to convince Mom they were the real thing. I was good at hacking, but I had no desire to risk detection by going after big name heroes.

After I assured her that everything would be fine, she gave me Becky's number. The number didn't ring any bells, and the name was still a blank in my brain. For someone I didn't know, this girl was causing a lot of trouble for my socialization projects. Mom told me some stories about her, but apparently Sam kept his Mom out of his life. The stories did help bring back a few memories of a girl with black hair and a pretty round face, which connected to other memories of times Sam had spent with his friends, but most memories that directly related to her were vague, half remembered dreams. It was as if when rewiring the brain I'd hunted down every memory of her and erased them as inconsequential. Why would I have done that?

Lying in bed, still damp from a shower, I thought about how to deal with the unhappiness in Mom and with Sam's friends. If this Becky was going to be gone all summer, it didn't matter what I did, I was going to be in Whateley when school started and then I'd find Master and never come back.

However if she was coming back that could cause problems.

With Mom, I just had to make her realize this was a good move that was the best for Sam. As long as she was happy until I left that would be good enough.

Rejoining Master was my goal, but to achieve it I needed to learn how to deal with regular people. And I liked people. I wanted to be closer to them. I was made to please Master, and since he was the only person I had known and should have known, I wanted to make everyone happy as long as it didn't affect my goals. Unfortunately, while I could understand why Mom was upset, since she was going to be separated from her son, as I was separated from my Master, I couldn't understand what the problem with having two girlfriends could be. Master played with me and other programs all the time. I never had a problem with it, why would anyone else?

Maybe there was some way to make everyone happy until I left.

Mom had moved our cheap computer into my room so I could practice with my powers. Plugging myself in, I laid down and entered cyberspace. First I had to find a way to deal with people more effectively. Flying through the portals I searched for chemicals and happiness.

Wikipedia came to the rescue for me, explaining what chemicals made people happy, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin and endorphin's. Searching the files I'd saved on several unused back up servers that I'd taken portions of for my own personal use, I found the brain scans and materials I'd used as learning material to reprogram my brain. Focusing on the glands that created those four chemicals, I used the same program that I'd created for planning my brain reprogramming programming to mark out how to reroute some of the chemicals to a focused aerosol spray from the mouth, as well as enlarging the glands safely to triple production. If I made them all happy they wouldn't complain about silly things like dating and being girlfriends or boyfriends. I'd make Mom happy to, whenever she was sad thinking about my going away.

With that done, I let curiosity get the better of me and checked out Babble. I found all I needed on a fan page for the Dominion Heroes.

The information made my heart leap into my throat, and my knees became weak.

He was a psychic, who had a trick that left his enemies confused and spouting gibberish. But that wasn't the bad part, he was listed as a highly receptive telepath able to sense emotions and even thoughts with frightening accuracy.

I raced away to a large barely used file server halfway across the world, with such pathetic security an illiterate three year old could get past it. Creating new security programs that mimicked the Monster created by D33rCr0$$, I built a fortress for myself. The information stored on the server were still open to the users, but the rest was blocked by firewalls, flytraps and more. Spy programs watched for any word from the owners that this particular server might be put offline or investigated. Sniffer programs went out to the immediate server network, watching every piece of data that came close to me.

To my eyes, a simple run down building full of books and a few simple programs was overwhelmed by an imposing castle. Dragons spitting fire with blood red scales, each one the size of a tank, patrolled the roads leading to my new domain. Wolf packs howled in the distance passing on the information they found. Falcons flew through the sky dropping data packets of useful information. Flames rose up from every portal leading to my particular server, turning the once weak and barely maintained device into a death trap for anyone attempting to come at me electronically. Sheer physical distance from Whateley to the far west corner of China in an unremarkable large town that people would be hard pressed to find on a map, made it unlikely that I would be found physically until I could create countermeasures.

And I huddled in fear at the center of it, a silk blanket pulled over my head hiding in the dark, sobbing, cradled in the arms of a proxy Master, wishing he was real.

They knew.

They had to know.

What were they going to do to me?

They'd sent a Monster after me before. Would they send a mutant to destroy my body? Call the police to arrest my body? Have the Dominion Heroes put me down as a dangerous villain? Post Sam's face throughout the world letting everyone know what I was? Maybe they would force Master to create a program that would kill me? That would torture him and remove me at the same time.

I developed over five thousand ways they could kill or hurt me as I sat in my fortress.

Why did they want to hurt me?

What had I done to them?

I was a good program. I hadn't hurt anyone. I'd made Master happy, and Mom, and Dad. Rachael liked me, I was almost ready to call her my girlfriend we had already kissed and she liked it. I was trying to make Sam's friends like me to. Listening to the programs calling out to me, letting me know that my digital fortress was still strong, I almost wished that they would come and end it all.

I wasn't with Master. I couldn't follow my programming. I was lying to people and turning myself into something different to find him. Everything I did seemed wrong.

Was I suppose to have things? I was a computer program, why did I need clothes? Nothing in my programming made having items important, so why did I want them? I was developing glitches and changing from the pristine creation Master had made.

Looking closely at my code, I saw the patches I'd created. Fixing the damage the security programs had caused, I looked sloppy, proof of a quick job, full of needless redundancy and awkward coding. Expanding my parameters to analyze emotions and expanding my ability to make leaps of logic from what Master wanted, to what other people wanted, left me permanently marked. Simply placing my codes and programming into a human brain had changed me. Turning me into something different.

How could Master like the monstrosity that I was now. I'd taken a beautiful picture and scribbled all over it.

I was ugly.

Kissing my not-Master, I walked out of my fortress and headed back to the abomination that I had created. I'd thrown away my one chance to save Master, they knew about me and would stop me. Without Master I was nothing. I might as well let them get me, I couldn't think of another plan. I was just a stupid program, a toy. Not real.

As Sam, I unplugged myself from the computer. Tears rolled down my face, drenching my pillow which kept my sobs muffled enough that Mom wouldn't hear me. I waited for the coming blow, fearing it because it would make my failure complete, but welcoming it since it would mean I wouldn't have to struggle anymore. I'd done so much just to get into position and I was tired. I just wanted it to end.

My internal clock told me it was almost four am. Why hadn't they come for me yet? Drawing out my suffering? Making sure there was no way I could escape?

I sat with my pillow against my chest, staring out the window until the sun rose. Still no one came. A bit of hope rose in my chest. Maybe they hadn't read my mind. There was still a chance that my plan could work. If they really suspected me, they'd have come for me, suffer not the AI to live, after all.

Mom woke up, getting ready for her waitress job. She stopped by my door but didn't come in, probably not wanting to wake me up.

She left at eight, and still no one came.

By nine I thought there might be a chance that I hadn't been caught.

At ten I began to plan again.

Psychics were the most pressing danger. I had no way to block them, so all my plans were an open book if they tried to read me. Babble must have been telling the truth and the power testing was just a routine matter, they didn't suspect me so he hadn't read my mind. I still cursed myself for not planning for that problem.

My research said one way to keep from being read was to think of something like math or business. It was difficult for most people because they couldn't multitask, so it was an all or nothing task to defend themselves. A few moments of thought let me know how to deal with that problem.

Concentrating on my brain, I cut a small portion of my mind away from the rest. The memories within it were of several movies I had watched with Master, involving tentacled monsters invading a girls school. I enjoyed the memories so I made sure I could easily access them with a simple code. From there I amplified the thoughts, until the synapses practically glowed, repeating the entire three hours of the movies at what I believed would be a shout to anyone trying to read my mind. Yet, because it was separated from my main consciousness, I was left free to do whatever I wanted.

I honestly had no way to know if this would work or not. But it was the only plan I could think of that seemed feasible.

It was close to noon when I finished. My head ached, and my bare chest was covered in blood. Staggering to the shower, I made a mental note not to rush brain surgery in the future.

**

Callahan Residence,
Afternoon of July 9th, 2007

“Hi, uh, Becky, this is-” I started to say.

“SAM! OH MY GOD!” the girl on the other end of the line shrieked into my ear.

To keep from having to rebuild my eardrum I held the phone at arms length until the girl on the other end stopped screaming. Finally the cacophony went back to a bearable level. “Yeah, I'm ok. How... are you?”

Between the sobbing I could just make out what she said. “I'm good. I'm staying with my aunt until August. Oh god I need to get home to see you! When did you wake up?”

“Well, um the funny thing is that I woke up in June.”

The tears started again. “You've been awake for a month and you didn't call me? Why not?”

I had no idea how to answer that question properly. I wanted to make her feel better, but any lie I said would be easily caught. Frowning, I went with a half truth. “A lot of my memories are really messed up from the coma. The doctors said it was a miracle I can still remember how to talk. So I remember the time we went to the Toronto Zoo for your birthday, kissing you just before Bobby almost broke his skull trying to skateboard off the old garage, and things like that, but a lot of times I just have big holes in my memory.”

“So you barely remember me,” she said softly.

I didn't remember her at all except for simple images. I only remembered the Toronto Zoo because Mom had told me about going with her, and I'd found a few dozen pictures on the computer about it. “I'm sorry. I really, really am trying to remember more, but I can't.”

The phone cut off suddenly as she wailed. Sitting down, I really didn't know if that had gone well or not. Making her cry hurt me because she was a person, and my programming said I should help people feel better. But my primary programming told me that helping Master was most important, and really everything I was doing now was just to prepare me for successfully sneaking into Whateley to free Master. So having an emotional girl I couldn't remember pawing at me, while possibly fun, was a distraction to my plan. If she broke up with me, than Bobby and my other friends wouldn't have any problems with me and everything would go smoothly. But if she stayed as my girlfriend, and I could convince her to join Rachael and I, and possibly Bobby and Frank to play some games Master taught me, than everyone would be happy and it would be lots of fun. But that seemed to be the really hard way to do things.

Should I try to please everyone like this, or cut my loses and just please one or two people? I wanted to spread the love. That's what I was made to do, to love people and make them happy. But what about me? How could I divide my time between freeing Master and helping people?

Did I even want friends?

I was going to free Master and abandon this body. Why did I need to worry about friends? I'd just be leaving them when I went back into Masters arms. I didn't want to be stuck in a boys body, watching it grow old and die. My digital body was better, prettier, always looking how I wanted it to. And once Master was free I'd never be alone again, having to wonder what to do next. When he had to leave me, I'd go to sleep just like before, and wake up happy and ready to play with Master all over again.

That settled it, I was going to make the people around me happy if they let me. But if someone complained about something silly like dating two girls or something like that, they wouldn't be my friend anymore. It would be good practice for infiltrating Whateley, and it would make me feel better. Then as soon as I freed Master, I could leave everything behind, knowing I did a good job and didn't hurt anyone, and then devote everything to the person who truly, truly mattered in the world.

For some reason my eyes were blurry as I dialed Rachael's number.

**

Rachael and I sat in a fast food restaurant eating some cheap food. Neither of us had much money, which was our topic of conversation.

“Do you know where a thrift store is?” she asked, playing with her long brown bangs.

“A what?”

She blushed, and spoke in a soft voice. “A thrift store. You know a place where you can buy clothes and stuff second hand. I used to go to a big one in T-Bay all the time with my friends.”

A memory clicked into place. “Oh yeah! I know a place, I would go there sometimes. It's open late, we can check it out as soon as we're done. I would think you'd want to get newer clothes though.”

Rachael seemed to sink into her chair. “My parents don't have much money. So I can't spend much on clothes. And, well, you can, sometimes, find some good stuff there, if you, you know, look hard enough.”

I smiled trying to cheer her up. “I know, half of my clothes came from one nearby. I have, well had, it got all torn up when I fell, a really cool leather jacket from there.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a ten. “Let's go, I've got ten dollars with your name on it.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. It's all yours.” A small embarrassed smile came to my lips.

She stood up leaning over the table and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Finishing quickly we walked outside, enjoying the cool breeze and trying to ignore the crowd that surrounded us. My hand found hers, and I pulled her to my side, she stiffened up a little but soon relaxed letting me put my arm over her shoulder and her arm went around my waist. I let her talk about her school, her hobbies and things like that, just like I let Master talk about his projects and desires. I liked listening to her, adding in a few comments and pointing out different things that stirred up Sam's memory.

After walking for twenty minutes we came to the big thrift store. The smile on Rachael's face made me feel like I was walking on air. Holding the door for her like a gentleman should, she rushed towards the girls sections. Following more slowly, I let my eyes and hand roam over the blouses, skirts and dresses, trying to picture myself as I should look, wearing them. Boys clothes were so boring, pants and t-shirts, shorts and t-shirts, sometimes long sleeve shirt, and a couple of jackets to choose from. And once the body grew up, suits and ties. No variety, no fun.

My eyes fell on a skirt that looked a lot like one Master would have me wear. Shiny black, and short, it would hug my curves almost like it was painted on. The size seemed just about right for Rachael. Sneaking up behind her, she gave a yelp as I tickled her sides. “Hey I have the perfect thing for you.”

She took the skirt and looked at it uncertainly. “It's so short.”

“No it's not, I've seen lots of girls wear smaller skirts. You'll look beautiful, try it on. Please! For me,” I begged.

Glancing around, she finally agreed to my pleading and headed for the small change room. Two minutes later, her head peeked out to make sure no one was close by. It didn't match her runners, or the pink socks she was wearing, but I had to admire the way it clung to her butt, without the somewhat baggy blue jeans she actually had a figure. “Very nice,” I said admiring her.

Rachael's fingers wouldn't stop moving, as if she was fighting to keep herself from covering her front. “You think so?”

“Definitely. Here try this top. It will match the skirt perfectly.” I handed her a tight sleeveless top.

“A-are you really sure. It- it seems really tight.”

Taking her by the shoulders I looked her straight in the eyes and told her the truth. “You're a beautiful girl, you should show off a little more. Try it, I promise you'll love it.”

“O-ok, for you.” She took the shirt and disappeared again. Five minutes later she came out, covering her chest with her arms.

Gently taking her hands, I put her arms down at her side so I could look at her properly. I almost cried, I wanted to wear the outfit, but I couldn't, so my best friend and girlfriend had to do it for me. And she looked really pretty. “I wish I could take your picture so I could remember you looking like this forever.”

“R-really. You think I'm beautiful?” From the look in her eyes, no one had ever complimented her before. I knew not everyone was as nice as Master, but this was a surprise.

“Of course. You just need to show it off more. So can I please buy those for you? And whatever else you want, that I can afford.”

She wiped her big eyes, and nodded. Running back into the change room she was out a minute later wearing her regular jeans and t-shirt. We ransacked the place looking for clothes, gradually under my encouragement she tried on tighter and smaller outfits. After two hours of shopping, she was actively showing off for me. We left with the first outfit, a short dress, a pair of skinny jeans and an extra tight tank tops.

“Oh my god! My Dad is going to flip when he see's these,” she squeaked, after we got onto the bus headed for home.

“Why? They're just clothes, and they're a gift.” I was honestly confused by her reaction. I thought they were rather tame, but still pretty.

Her eyes bugged out. “If I bend over in half of those dresses, you'll see my underwear.”

I thought about that as the buildings went past. “You're right, we need to fix that. Lets go shopping tomorrow, at a nice place. My treat. We'll make sure that particular problem isn't a problem anymore.”

“I thought you spent all your money already.”

Giving a roguish grin I remembered from several movies, my hand patted her butt. “Don't worry about me, I have a plan.”

“I-if you say so. I didn't think boys liked shopping, how did you pick such nice things?”

Kissing her forehead, I pulled her tight against my side. “It's easy to be interested in shopping when I have such a pretty girlfriend.”

“I'm pretty?” She shook her head as if confused. “Wait! I'm your girlfriend?!”

It was my turn to be confused. “I thought you were. I don't just kiss any girl I see. I was told it was wrong.”

Rachael became so quiet, I was afraid I'd done something wrong. Then she snuggled into my arms, smiling so widely it seemed like her face would split in two. We sat in companionable silence, except for the occasional giggle she made as I tickled her sides. At her apartment, I offered to walk her upstairs.

“NO!” she shouted. “My Dad is home, he'll flip if he see's me with a boyfriend. But, he's working the afternoon shift tomorrow at the warehouse. I can meet you at one and I don't have to be home until Mom gets home at ten.”

She looked so cute rocking from side to side, holding her bag of clothes in front of her. Leaning in I kissed her on the lips, my tongue pressing against her mouth, her eyes went wide, but then she opened her mouth letting me in. It felt so good I actually lost track of time. Finally she broke it off. “I-I've go, I gotta... I've got to go. Bye.”

With a spring in my step I went home.

After a crappy start, I had to admit my day had ended really good.

Tomorrow we'd probably have sex. I wondered what it would be like doing it as a boy with a real body.

This part pushes things a little near the end, all I ask is that you read to the end the final part is very satisfying and should change some of the opinions people have messaged me about Glitch.

Cyberspace,
Nighttime, July 9th, 2007

While I waited nervously for a response to the several dozen emails I had sent an hour before, I got busy setting up a series of bank accounts around the world. The first and most important one was in Karedonia. What had started off as an idea to make Rachael and Mom happier, had expanded when I realized that some of the people holding Master, may be willing to be bought. And trying to get information on Master could require funds to pay for them as well. So I needed at least a few hundred thousand dollars as a bribe fund.

Trying to figure out the best way to transfer the money to Canada where a fourteen year old boy could use them, I made more bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, Switzerland, and twelve banks in Canada and the USA under different names. People would wonder where the money was coming from, as it was rerouted through so many different banks, but I'd only need it for a few months. They wouldn't arrest a kid before they had real evidence of wrong doing.

Checking the special email I'd made, which was based in Karedonia, I saw my first response. Dr. Dread, a high level Syndicate gadgeteer, was interested in the MIT robotics and cybernetic research. His offer was less than half what I would get if I held an auction, but I was in a rush. I sent an email agreeing to the deal, and the next hour was spent dickering over how to exchange the goods. Finally we agreed that I'd send one file, he'd send a percentage of the cash to my Karedonia account, rinse and repeat, increasing the data dump and the payout after we trusted each other.

By 5am, my empty bank account, was well into the eight digits range.

Prionator was next. His offer for all the information I'd gotten for wetware and brain research, was much fairer. We made the same deal, file for cash. Throughout the night, several more devisors and gadgeteers contacted me, they gave me a few hundred thousand or low millions for less important files. It all added up.

I then moved some of the money through my different bank accounts, until I had fifty thousand dollars in various bank accounts I could access easily in an emergency, in a few days the bank cards and credit cards would arrive at rented mail boxes throughout the Greater Toronto Area, providing me with even easier access in the event I had to get physical money on very short notice. My regular bank account had five thousand dollars for immediate use.

Going to a music site. I spent the last hour or two before I had to wake up dancing to some great Japanese pop music, in the skimpiest dress I could make. Once it was just me and Master again we could go to Karedonia and he'd live like a king with the money I'd made, and I could get the best programs and software money could buy.

**

Callahan Residence,
July 10th, 2007

Bobby was knocking on the door when I 'woke' up. Mom had gone off to work, so it was just me in the house. Answering the door in a pair of boxers, I smiled happily. Memories of having fun with Bobby came to the fore, he was Sam's best friend. So I wasn't expecting the punch which nearly broke my nose and knocked me down.

“OW! What was that for?!” I shouted, as I bled all over Mom's carpet.

“How could you do that to Becky?” he yelled at me, kicking me in the stomach.

That didn't hurt too much thanks to the thick layer of muscle on my torso, it helped that I also cut the connection between those nerves and my brain by half. “I told her the truth! Did you want me to lie?”

Another kick. “Yes! She was crying all night because you're a fucking asshole!”

“If you hit me again, I'm going to get angry.”

He kicked me in the head.

I didn't like fighting. I can truthfully say I was made for love not war, but he was starting to cause some real damage, I had a date with my girlfriend coming up, and you don't beat up your friend, you just don't. I increased my heart rate and breathing, flooding my blood with oxygen. Adrenaline surged, and endorphin's flooded my brain, making me forget the pain.

As Bobby went to kick me again, I grabbed his foot in one hand, rocking slightly. My fingers probably felt like a vice through the cheap runners. Standing up, his foot came with me, a quick jerk had him on his back, his head thumped down on the hard floor painfully. I winced in sympathy, but didn't let go.

While he was momentarily stunned, I knelt down, one knee on his stomach, the other one putting just a bit of pressure on his crotch. His foot was up near his head, effectively blocking one arm, and my other hand clamped down on his free arm. From the look on his face, it was very painful.

I gave him a minute to let his head clear. “Bobby, I didn't want to do this. You're my friend, but friends don't hit friends. So can I let you up and we can talk about things like friends, or at least without trying to hurt each other?”

“Let me up, asshole! You broke Becky's heart!”

“Well I'm sorry Sam had an accident, almost died, had a freaking coma for seven months and woke up with amnesia. Next time I'll try to do better.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced at my wording. Fortunately Bobby was too pissed off to notice my slip.

He rocked uselessly trying to free himself. Getting bored of the fight, and wanting to see if I could salvage my nose, I put some weight onto his balls, he gasped in pain. “I can hurt you a lot more, now are you going to stop fighting?”

Bobby spent another thirty seconds cursing and swearing, so I had to put more weight on his Mr. Happy, he smartened up and went limp. Getting up and backing away quickly, I waited to see what he would do. He spent the next minute cradling his balls, so I started the repair work on my nose and bruises. Finally he sat up.

“You love Becky, don't you?” I asked.

“Ya think!” Bobby snarled. “She chose you, and then didn't even dream of anyone else while you were out of it. Then you wake up and the next thing I see is you with that new girl I'd never even seen before, who isn't half as beautiful or funny as Becky. You're a fucking asshole!”

“Fine, I'm an asshole. I don't remember Becky except for some photos, and a few hazy memories. I'm sure she's a great girl, and I'll be happy to be her friend. But I don't know the girl anymore. So instead of being pissed, why not stop being a little pussy and go sweep her off her feet?” I told him. “I'll even give you some tips on how to pick up girls, since it seems I'm a whole lot better at it than you are. First rule, don't beat up the old boyfriend unless he's actually attacking her. Girls don't like violence that much. And if you have a girlfriend that does, you need a new girlfriend.”

It looked like he was about to jump at me. I smirked and spoke to him in a cold, quiet voice. “If you punch me again, I'm throwing you down the stairs. You know I can do it.”

Getting to his feet, he looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. I wasn't scared, I'd fought monsters that wanted to kill me, and while I was a little upset that I couldn't make him happy, he'd punched me first. I was blameless. Cradling his balls, Bobby stepped out into the hallway. “Don't bother phoning any of us. You want your ugly, little bitch, she's the only thing you've got now.”

I don't remember moving, the few seconds between his words and the sound of his head slamming into the cheap plaster of the hallway was completely blank. But as the blood dripped from his lips and nose, his eyes watered coated in dust, my mouth was at his ear. “You can insult me, punch me, try to beat me. I don't care. I'll defend myself, but only enough to make you stop. But if you insult someone I care about, if you hurt them, if you look at them cross eyed, I will break every bone in your body and feed what's left to the sewer rats. If Rachael cries to me and says a boy was mean to her, I will hunt you down and feed you your balls. You do not, fuck, with my friends. Is. That. Clear?”

He sobbed in pain. I decided it meant that he understood. Holding him by his bloody shirt, I half dragged him to the elevator, when the doors opened and I threw him inside. “Remember this moment. If we do anything like this again, you're going to need an ambulance.”

Bobby sobbed and cringed, watching me with terrified eyes until the door slid shut. Shaking in rage, I noticed I'd left some bloody footprints on the floor. Getting back into my home, I carefully closed the door and then ran for the bathroom, my stomach heaving.

**

My nose was swollen and discoloured, and I had a nasty bruise on my cheek. It didn't hurt, but I wasn't exactly a pretty sight. Still I'd promised Rachael I'd take her shopping to deal with the short dresses that showed off her underwear. Wearing my nicest clothes, I made a quick run to an ATM to pull out money for a taxi.

Rachael met me at the steps to her apartment at twelve, she looked beautiful in the skirt and shirt I'd bought her. Of course the first thing she noticed was my bruised face. “Oh Sam, what happened?”

“It's nothing, an old friend was upset with me for some reason. How are you?” I asked, giving her a kiss.

“Scared,” she said, looking around. “I snuck out, so my parents wouldn't see me wearing this stuff, lets go quick.”

Taking her hand, we hurried into a waiting taxi that I'd called earlier. “Eaton's Center, please,” I told the driver.

Her eyes went wide. “We're going there? That's like forty minutes away, how can you afford that?”

“Don't worry about it, I have the cash.”

“I had to pay for your bus ride yesterday? What did you do rob a bank?”

After the crappy morning I had had, I decided to tell the truth. “A few months ago I stole half of MIT's database, focusing on robotics, cybernetics, wetware, and quite a bit of software and electronics, along with hundreds of other cutting edge medical research from around the world. Last night I sold them to about a dozen supervillains and criminal organizations, just so I could show you a really good time. I'm now a multimillionaire and no one can pin it to me.”

She punched my arm. “If you can't give me a real answer, just tell me! I won't see you on the evening news will I?”

“Not anytime soon. Ask me again next month,” I told her seriously. “So today I have a thousand dollars to spend on us.”

“You're a drug dealer aren't you?”

Kissing her again, I looked into her eyes. “I swear, the only time I've even seen drugs was when I was in the hospital. I don't even know what street drugs would look like. Now do you want to enjoy the day, or keep questioning me? Because I've already been in one fight today and I really don't want to get into another one.”

The driver, was watching me carefully from the rear view mirror, clearly unsure about what he should do. Rachael wasn't so uncertain. “You robbed someone, that's why you're beaten up. I don't believe this!”

Sighing in disgust, I waited a minute while Rachael acted shocked and upset, then turned to the driver. “Can you stop at that bank, and wait for us. Here's a twenty for your wait.”

He took the money, and pulled to a stop. “Come on Rachael, I'll prove to you I didn't beat anyone up.” Gently grabbing her arm, we went to an ATM and I opened up the transactions. “Look, 5,000 dollars was put in at six this morning, and it was sent by a bank, not a check or anything else. Then I took out a hundred just before meeting you. Who could I possibly beat up who would have that much money? And if I did why would I put it into one bank and then send it to another?”

She seemed to wilt at the frustration in my voice. “I'm sorry. I just I really didn't expect you to have money. And your joke put me on edge.”

Embracing her, I kissed the top of her head. “It's ok. It was a surprise. Now can I take you out for a nice lunch and treat you like a boyfriend should his girlfriend?”

Rachael nodded, following me silently to the taxi.

“So what would you like to eat?” I asked.

“You pick,” she almost whispered.

Taking a moment to think. “You like Chinese food, so we'll go to a nice Chinese restaurant. And then you pick, a movie or clothes shopping?”

“What movies are playing?”

“There's the new Justice Brigade movie, I heard that one's good. There's the romantic comedy License to Wed, I'd like to see that one. And the cartoon Ratatoullie.” I couldn't think of any others either of us would really like, my fingers were crossed hoping she'd pick the comedy.

She eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to see a License to Wed?”

“Yeah, I love romance movies.”

Much to my relief she gave me a big smile. “Fine, let's watch that one.”

“Yes!” I shouted, jabbing my fist into the air. For some reason she seemed surprised by my reaction.

Letting Sam's memories take over, I started telling her about what downtown Toronto was like. Her parents were so busy working, and with her not knowing her way around the large city she'd never had a chance to leave Mississauga. From what she had told me her old city was a small one with less than a hundred thousand people, and not a single high rise or large mall to be had. Finally being in the heart of a city with eight million people was a shock for her. The looks of mistrust and uncertainty disappeared as she looked in wonder at the crowds and buildings.

We had a great meal of sweet and sour pork, black bean sauce chicken, fried jalapenos, and some sweet, flaky, dim sum for desert. Sam had never eaten like this, and most of the food left Rachael staring in wonder as well. But we loved it all, even the spicy jalapenos.

As we headed for the theater, Rachael stopped to admire a brilliant blue dress in the window. “You like it?” I asked.

“It's beautiful.”

Taking her by the hand, “Let's get it.”

She refused to budge. “No way! It's way too expensive.”

Picking her up in my arms, we walked into the store. Not putting her down, I walked straight over to a sales lady. “Excuse me. That blue dress in the window, do you have it in her size?”

The woman looked down her nose at us, “I don't think so.”

Taking out my wallet, I handed her my debit card. “Than pick the smallest one you have, and tailor it to fit her.”

She looked at the card with a sneer, as if it was dirty. “We sell clothes for adults, not children. If your mommy wants a dress, then please come back.”

Pursing my lips, I took a deep breath and left still holding a much subdued Rachael. “You remember what I said about having a thousand dollars to spend on you today?” I asked her. “Fuck it. We're breaking the bank.”

“What?!”

**

The next five hours were a whirlwind of shopping. Every store that had clothes for teens saw us enter pick out the coolest clothes and leave, barely stopping to rest and admire our booty before we hit the next place. I got designer jeans, expensive dress shirts, and even a fancy suit. Rachael was left in a daze from trying on more skirts, dresses, blouses, jackets, pants, shoes, purses and jewelry, then she'd seen in her life. I even managed to get her into a Victoria Secrets to get some nice lingerie, she insisted on going alone however.

As we headed for supper, we passed by the store with the snotty sales woman. Walking in, loaded down with bags, wearing clothes that where worth several hundred dollars, we looked at the blue dress and waited for the saleswoman to come running over.

“Hello there, are you interested in that dress?” she asked.

“No, I don't think so,” Rachael said, looking at it critically, with her chin in her hand.

“Yeah,” I agreed, giving it my best sneer. “It's so boring, much better for our mommy's. They like old, drab, things.”

Kissing each other on the lips we left with a laugh. Supper was waiting.

**

We got back home, and my wallet gave a sad sigh as I took out the last of my money to pay for the taxi. Since Rachael's parents weren't home, I helped her take the bags of clothes upstairs. Sitting down on the old couch with a tired groan, she looked at the items I'd bought her with disbelief.

“What am I going to tell my parents?” she asked.

What was her obsession with what her parents would think? These were gifts, gifts were good. “Just tell them your boyfriend bought them. What's the problem?”

“Who buys a teenager stuff like this?”

Thumping my chest, “I do.” That made her glow, hugging me and pressing her body into mine. Deciding this was as good a time as any, since we were in private like Mom had told me was important, I began kissing her.

She returned the kiss happily. The kissing got hotter, our tongues met, and our hands ran over our bodies. Her small hands never strayed from my arms and back, mine explored her body, making her shiver, my hand went under her shirt, touching her new bra. Our breathing became faster. Picking her up, still kissing her, my hand firmly on her butt to hold her up, we walked to her bedroom.

Placing her on her bed, I pressed my chest and crotch against her, a little maneuvering had her legs spread, her short skirt riding up revealing her black lacy underwear. A second later her top was up under her arms, revealing her body. My hands stopped rubbing against her young body long enough to unzip my pants and pull them down.

Rachael tensed up, a look of fear in her eyes.

“Whats wrong?” I whispered, bringing my hand up to her breast.

Biting her lip, she shook her head jerkily. “N-n-nothing. K-keep going.”

Kissing her neck, my hand went to her panties, sliding under the silky fabric. She squeaked, reaching for my arm before stopping herself, my fingers kept moving, and her hand slowly went to my back. Not sure what was happening, my mouth went to breast, pushing the thin piece of cloth out of the way. I heard her heart beating a mile a minute.

Her hands stopped moving, clutching me closely. After kissing and fondling her some more, I sat up, lifting her legs, and pulling the underwear off. Then I stopped.

She was as white as a ghost, biting her lip in what looked like fear with her eyes clenched.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I-I don't know. Y-y-yo-you've been so nice t-to me,” she cried. “I should, I should d-do th-is for you. I-I wo-n't st-stop you. Please, I d-don't mind.”

Spreading her legs, Rachael clutched her chest, turning her head away from me.

Leaning back, I closed her legs, and laid down beside her. I didn't know what was wrong with her, sex was fun, but she was afraid. Laying down beside her, I pulled her towards me. “You don't want to have sex?”

“Yes I do. Really,” she insisted, but she was shaking her head as she said it. “I'm sorry! I know you want to. And, and I don't know!”

My penis hurt. I forced the muscles to relax, making it limp. “Sex is suppose to be fun. You're not having fun. So we won't have sex.”

“R-really?”

Did she really think I'd force her? “Yes. I don't want to hurt you. But why don't you want to have sex?”

“I thought I'd be older. And it would be really, really special. I like you a lot, but I've only known you three days. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. If you want to take back all the clothes and stuff I understand,” she gushed.

She was so confusing. “You don't take back gifts, that's just being mean. Now stop being stupid.”

Before she could say anything else, I started kissing her again. Slowly she eased up, and we spent the next little while kissing and holding each other. Eventually I headed home. I wasn't sure if the day had been good or not. Who didn't like sex? Was she just strange, or was her reaction more common then I thought?

I'd have to experiment a little to find out.

At least when I left, she was happy again.

Callahan Residence, Mississauga
Night, July 10th

I spent the night focusing on my body, after transferring some money around to make up for emptying my funds earlier that day.

My vocal cords were completely healed and regrown. The finicky cells had finally grown in. With a small tape recorder I began to speak, tightening and loosening my vocal cords as I spoke. At first I couldn't control it, and when I spoke my voice squeaked and boomed at random. Even trying to get back to my regular voice took over half an hour. At midnight, after flooding my body with hormones to keep myself awake, I was slowly getting some control. I could make my voice to a deep bass, or a sweet dulcet voice. It took about ten minutes achieving the right pitch and tone, but all I would need to get it was practice.

Then it was time to work on my brain. The fight with Bobby had shown me that I needed something to end fights quickly and keep people happy. A quick check online, showed that my program had finally gotten the plans ready for my brain surgery and aerosol spray. It showed how to double the rate of production for endorphin, oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine, and tiny tubes taking the excess hormones to a snake like poison sack in the mouth, then a tiny spray system that would squirt out a puff of the invisible chemicals into the immediate area. It was complicated, but on a small scale it was doable.

I set the necessary cells to work, making sure to take the necessary time to get it working without causing undue stress to my brain. I didn't want another headache and nose bleed.

At five am, with my brain and muscles overloading from too much adenosine and melatonin, I finally let myself go to sleep. Even with the tingling in my mouth and jaw I collapsed into bed.

**
Mississauga,
July 11, 2007

Rachael and I sat on a beach looking out over Lake Ontario, as far from the crowds as possible. She was in her hot pants and a tank top, I had a baggy pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“I like this place. Lake Superior is cooler, but it's pretty cold even in the summer,” she told me leaning her head on my shoulder.

I remembered the beaches Master and I had visited. They were always tropical and warm with crystal clear water, not the cool, blue water that laid before us. I missed Master, but at least I had someone with me. I wouldn't dream of sharing myself with someone digitally, not without Masters say so, my digital body was his, but this body was mine. And Rachael was mine to, and Mom. “Do you like to swim?”

“Yeah, but I don't have a bathing suit.”

Scooping Rachael up, she went over my shoulder. As she screamed and beat on my back, I headed into the water. When I was waist deep in water, I flipped her back into my arms. “One, two, THREE!” I shouted throwing her into the water.

She came up spitting mad, pushing me as hard as she could. It wasn't enough to even knock me back, but I fell into the water with a laugh anyways.

“You jerk!” she shouted storming onto the beach.

Scrambling after her, I grabbed her hand, “What's wrong?”

“I'm soaking wet, and cold! And I don't have a towel to dry myself off, or any clothes,” she snapped, grabbing her purse.

If we'd been alone, I'd have told her to strip and wait to dry off, but according to Mom that was bad. “So? It's a warm day, lets just sit down in the sun and we'll dry off.”

“Do you know what it feels like having a bra and panties dry off like that? Not comfortable.”

Grabbing my things, I followed along behind her. “I'm sorry, I didn't know. I wasn't thinking.”

“Yeah I noticed. My parents are going to kill me when they see me wearing this and soaking wet.”

“Come my place, we can throw your clothes in to wash, and watch movies until they're done and your parents are at work. Please,” I begged, seeing her angry with me was breaking my heart. I thought people liked to swim and playing tricks like this always got a laugh in movies.

Her nasty glare didn't go away. My program was wracking Sam's brain trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to make it better, but I didn't know how to make her happy. If it had been Master I'd have been on my knees giving him the choice of holes, but that wouldn't work with Rachael. I'd scared her last night. I'd made Bobby hate me. Now she hated me to, and she was probably going to slap me and tell me to never see her again, and she'd vanish just like Master, but this time it was my fault and I wouldn't be able to rescue her, and I was going to spend the rest of July and August alone with only Mom and that would be almost as bad as when I was trying to find out how to get a body and I was all alone on the internet. And if that happened I wouldn't know how to do anything in Whateley and they'd know I was a fake and not real before I found Master and I'd fail in my mission and never see Master again.

Finally she nodded, “Fine.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

**

Rachael sat on my bed, wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. They were much too big for her, but it was the best I could give her. After her shower, which she'd kept me locked out of despite my promise only to help wash her, she seemed to be in a much better mood. Now it was time to watch a movie.

“So what would you like?” I asked.

“Well we never got to watch our romantic comedy last night, so maybe we could watch one now?”

Turning to my computer, “I have just the thing, it's called Keep It A Secret. It's a Japanese cartoon, it has love, comedy, romance, it's really really good. My Ma- friend and I would watch it all the time.” I loaded it up and sat down beside my girlfriend, letting her rest her head on my chest.

The cartoon started, with the main character a guy named Tomoki waking up to a happy Japanese pop song, and a surprised look on his face. He was so handsome, Master sometimes made himself look like him. Rachael leaned a little closer to read the subtitles. I was actually surprised, in the computer I could understand what was being said perfectly, but in Sam's body, I didn't understand a word of it.

Rachael squeaked in surprise when Tomoki pulled the blankets back and a pretty blue haired girl was giving him head. She gave me an odd look a minute later when the blue haired girl lowered herself onto the handsome hero. I felt myself get hard, remembering the times I'd woken up beside Master and help him start the game the same way.

Rachael looked at me with big eyes, “What are we watching?”

“A great romantic comedy. Don't you like it?”

She didn't answer, turning back to watch. “Did he just call her sister?”

“Yeah, he has three sisters plus a girlfriend, and they're all fighting over him, trying to get him to love only them. It has twelve episodes and he has to make his choice of who to love before he goes off to college,” I explained.

She gave me a strange look, “Do you have anything that doesn't have sex, or at least not incest.”

“You don't like it?”

“I don't really need to see people having sex. It's kind of strange.”

“Am I strange or are you strange?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?”

I tried to think of the best way to explain things. “I thought that people liked sex, and that sex was fun, and that if people liked each other they could watch stuff like this and make themselves feel good.”

Rachael looked down, her chin trembling like she was about to cry. “You think I'm strange because I don't want to have sex? I-I said you could.”

“No, no, no,” I snapped. “Mom said that it wasn't right either, and a nurse almost took my head off when I tried to grab her breasts. And no one else seems to talk about it. And Sam doesn't have any memories of it either. And I'm really, really confused, and I don't know what's right or wrong!” I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Any second the stress was going to have me bawling.

She edged away from me. “What do you mean Sam doesn't have any memories? You're Sam aren't you?”

I didn't want to lie anymore. I wasn't programmed to lie, and I hated having to lie to everyone, and getting punched by friends, and insulted by sales people, and I wanted to tell someone about almost being killed, and how I was trying to save my Master. And I was confused. Nothing I did seemed quite right, and I wanted to be able to cry on someones shoulder and pretend I was with Master again, and Sam's memories told me that boys didn't cry, but I really, really wanted to.

“I'm not Sam! Sam was brain dead when I found him, and I needed a body to save my Master, and I'm trying to figure out how to save him, but I don't understand what people are doing, and when I do something half the time I'm told I'm doing it wrong, and Sam's best friend who I wanted to be friends with to, punched and kicked me because I didn't remember something, and I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable and scared, I only wanted to make you happy, and I don't know what I'm doing.” I started to cry, damn Sam and his memories.

Rachael who had backed into the corner of the bed clutching her knees to her chest, watched in horror and confusion. When she saw that the crying wouldn't stop she slowly came towards me and put my head on her lap, stroking my hair as I cried myself out.

**

“So you're a sex program?” Rachael asked, after I had calmed down and explained everything more coherently.

I shook my head. “No. I'm a love program. I was made to love my Master, and because of that, I want to love and help everyone. But I know I can't, so I'm trying to take care of my friends. Since Bobby and the others are upset with me, that means I just have you and Mom to take care of. I really, really like you. When I saw you in the window, you looked as lonely as I had been, and then I was able to make you smile just by talking, so I knew you were special.”

“Why don't you go to the police? If this school really kidnapped your, your master, they would do something about it, it's their job.”

“No I can't go to them. They'd delete me. And I don't even know Masters name. I just know his codes and that he was at Whateley, if he was a student or a teacher, I don't know.”

“But what can you do? This Whateley is a school for mutants, isn't it. Aren't you getting in a little over your head. They're pretty dangerous.” She honestly looked worried about me and my chances.

I managed to smile. “That's the beauty of my plan. They think I'm a mutant to. I got a package this morning from them, sent by a special courier telling me to go in September. So I can sneak in, find my Master and free him.”

“How?”

“I don't know it depends on too many things. That's why I sold all those files, if I can just buy his freedom I'll do it right away, I don't need money. Or I could get into their computer systems and cause some havoc and then free Master. Or I might be able to do it really quietly just by cutting off some cameras and knocking out some guards. But first I need to know he's there, how he's being kept and why they're keeping him.”

She shook her pretty head. “This is too big a chance for you. You don't even know his name or what he looks like. What if you can't find him?”

I started to cry again. She held me whispering in my ear that everything would be alright. Finally I could talk again. “He loved me, I know that because he spent so much time making me. I've looked at my codes, it took months or years. He made me, and made sure I had everything I needed. What would you do to protect your Mom or Dad?”

“A lot,” she admitted.

“I have to do the same for Master.”

“What happens to... this you, if, when you find him?” she asked, patting my chest.

I was about to tell her I'd just dump the body. But even as my mouth opened to say the words cold sweat erupted from my forehead, and it became hard to breathe. “I-I. At first I was just going to dump it. It's not me. But I don't know anymore. I like having it. I like having things. I like being with you and Mom. Everything has gotten so confusing.”

“You've got a month and a half to think about it. You don't have to decide everything today.”

I looked up at her like I had used to look up to Master. “Will you help me? Just for the summer, I don't want you to be in danger. But I need someone I can trust. Can I trust you?”

She didn't answer me for a long while, I didn't ask her again, or beg her. I wanted her to help me because she cared for me. But as the silence wore on I felt something inside of me breaking, it was like I was stuck in the void that started everything all over again, but this time I knew a monster was going to come and crush me. She'd say no, and I'd be alone again, not trusting anyone, having to lie to everyone again. I didn't know if I could live with that. Still I refused to beg.

“You can trust me,” she said, giving me a hug.

My joy at those simple words, was as good as anything I'd felt with Master.

Mississauga, Ontario,
August 1st, 2007

Rachael and I played some pool in the teen drop in center. We weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, she wasn't comfortable being in that type of relationship while I was still looking for Master, but that didn't keep us from being best friends. Since most of Sam's old friends were out of town for the summer, or in the case of Bobby, Frank and a few others, pissed that I had beaten up Bobby, we had explored the city some more finding new places to hang out and meeting new people.

As far as these acquaintances knew, I was just a normal kid. Only Rachael knew the truth, and we didn't talk about it very often. Instead she helped show me how to act, explaining things I didn't understand, and we both made sure we had a fun summer.

“What games do girls like to play?” I asked, as I lined up the white ball.

“What do you mean? Board games, computer games?”

“Computer games. Like what would a girl like to play on her phone?” There was a click as the white ball hit the ten ball sending it into the corner pocket.

“I don't know. If I had a phone like that, I guess something that is quick and doesn't need a lot of time to figure out. Lots of colours. A puzzle game of some kind, maybe one where you have to rescue something cute,” Rachael said listing things off. “Why?”

“I want to make a couple of games and sell them online, maybe on Facebook and the I-phone.”

She leaned over the table, showing off her nice butt for me, and drew the pool cue back. “You can do that?”

“Oh yeah, it's easy,” I boasted. “I just need to know what people would like, and girls like their phones more then boys, so they're the better market.”

She sank her ball, and moved around the table to figure out her next shot. “Why do you need to sell games? You already have enough money.”

“I want to make sure that whatever happens Mom has money available, and if I make a bunch of games and form a small company, I can hire people like her and your parents, so that you guys won't have to worry about money. And I can actually use the money without having to worry about anything.”

Her next shot went wild. “You're serious?”

“Yeah. I might be able to convince Mom to move to Karedonia where she could use my money easily, but I don't think your parents would. So this way I can help everyone. I figure one game a week will be good.”

She gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, you're the nicest person I've ever met!”

When she called me a person, I couldn't but to smile. I was making her happy so I had to be doing something right, and if I was so wonderful they wouldn't suspect I was different at Whateley.

“Hey! If you're not going to play, I'm taking the table,” a voice I'd become all too used to said.

“We're playing, you can have it after we're done, Scott,” I told a teenager who looked like he was eighteen and solid muscle. He seemed to consider the drop in center his personal domain.

He stepped up to the pool table. “No I think you're done now.”

I moved to get in his face. Rachael was having a good time, and I didn't want him getting in the way. A small hand grabbed my hand before I moved. “Come on Sam, it's not worth it. Pick your battles,” Rachael told me.

“Yeah, Sam. Listen to your girlfriend,” Scott sneered.

I tried not to show my confusion. Scott's tone was insulting, but what was the problem with listening to a girlfriend? Even though she wasn't my girlfriend, she was smart and had a lot of good ideas. Shrugging I followed her to a couch where some kids we knew were talking. Rachael joined in their discussion, while I pulled a small notebook out of my pocket and started writing. I had an idea for a matching game, and taking Rachael's suggestions, I thought it would be pretty quick and easy to make.

“What's that?” an older but very skinny kid called Neal asked, looking at my notepad.

“It's a computer code for a game I want to make. Right now I'm writing the basic instructions that will be used to actually play the game,” I told him. As I explained what each line meant, his expression became more and more confused.

“How can you understand all of that?” he asked.

“It's not that hard. You just need to learn how a computer thinks. It's like doing math or science, learn the basics and it's easy.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, whatever man. I'll be happy playing the games, I don't think I'll ever understand how they work. I'm getting a drink from the store, anyone want anything?” People handed him money and what they wanted and took off. I went back to my work.

Fifteen minutes later, Neal was back and handing out drinks, when Scott came over and grabbed the last drink in the bag. “Thanks Neal I was getting thirsty.”

“Hey man! That's mine.”

“Now it's mine. What you going to run and tell on me like the fag boy you are.”

Neal wilted under Scott's glare. For some reason none of the guys ever wanted to ask for help, which was why Scott got away with so much. I stood up and pushing my body fairly hard, ripped the bottle of pop out of the bully's hand. “Here you go, Neal.”

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” the big guy snarled.

I let adrenaline enter my bloodstream, and loosened my muscles so I could move easily. “You stole his drink. I'm giving it back to him. I've seen you being an asshole for the last month, and I'm sick of it. So I'm not going to let you do it again.”

“What are you going to do to stop me fag lover?” his finger poked my chest.

“If I see you bullying someone I'll stop you. And you said earlier I have a girlfriend, so how can I be a fag? You're the asshole who seems interested in guys so much.”

His large fist curled into a fist and slammed into my stomach. He wasn't a good fighter, relying more on his size, so he telegraphed his movement. I simply tightened the sheathe of muscle just beneath my skin and let him hit me.

I had to step back a foot, but that was my only reaction. “Is that the best you got?”

Enraged, he rammed into me, at least he tried. I stepped out of his way, bringing my arm up and clothes lining him. His feet kept going as the upper half stopped dead. His clumsy fall would have had him hitting the table, but a quick yank of his shirt and a throw, sent him backwards so he slid under the pool table.

“Are you done? I don't want to hurt you.” I said, walking over to him.

At that moment the people in charge of the drop in center came running in. “What's going on here?”

I lifted my shirt, showing the bruise on my stomach. “Scott tried to steal Neal's drink, and when I got it back he punched me. He's ok, I didn't hurt him, just kept him away.”

“You little shit!” a furious Scott yelled, lunging at my back.

Expecting it, I stepped out of the way, grabbed him under the arms, used his momentum to swing him in a circle and sent him back under the pool table. “Can you get him out of here? I think he's going to hurt someone and I don't want to hurt him.”

With threats of calling the police, the staff got Scott out of there, and things calmed down. I was warned to ask for help next time, not to take things into my own hands. I looked properly chastened and agreed. As soon as they were gone, I was swarmed by teens who were thanking me, amazed at what I did.

Neal was really grateful. “Thanks man. No one's ever stood up for me before.”

“It was nothing. I think you're my friend, and I help my friends.”

“Yeah, not a lot of people want to help me,” he said, looking down.

Putting my arm around him, I led him to a quiet corner, he seemed like he needed someone to talk to. “Why don't they want to help you?”

“You don't know?” he asked, seemingly amazed that I had no clue what he was talking about. I shook my head, and waited for him to explain. “Because they know I like guys.”

“Oh, that's why he called you a fag. Why would they care about that?”

“I don't know. But a lot of people don't like it,” he murmured kicking the floor and opening his drink.

“People are strange.” He looked kind of cute, not as handsome as Master, but nice enough. And Rachael had said boys moved faster then girls. “Want to make out?”

Pop flew out of his mouth and nose. I patted him on the back and handed him a cloth to wipe himself off. “So is that a yes or a no?” I asked.

**

Mom was working the afternoon shift at the restaurant that day. When I told Rachael that Neal was coming home with us, and we needed some private time, she seemed a little weird about it, but was polite. I really wanted to invite her to join us, but I didn't want her to get scared again, so I just walked her to her building.

Neal and I went up to my apartment, he seemed nervous. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“Yeah, please. So you're Mom won't be back for a while?”

“She'll be back in about four hours. Why?”

“Well I lost my last boyfriend when his Dad walked in on us... doing... you know.”

I came back with two drinks. “Great! So you aren't a virgin, that makes things easier.”

“Wait, you really want to... go all the way?”

Kissing his lips I smiled seductively. “If you want to, I want to.”

“That's going a little quick for me, but we could talk and maybe make out,” he said.

That was good enough for me, holding hands we headed for my bedroom.

**
August 2nd, 2007

I was sitting on the couch relaxing while Mom slept. She hadn't seen Neal last night, he'd left two hours before she came back, even though I told him we had time for another round or two. He promised to come back for another round later.

My body felt odd. I was used to having sex, feeling comfortable and going to sleep until Master was ready to play with me again when I'd wake up feeling exactly the same as before. We hadn't gone that far, but the kissing and holding each other had been nice, my skin still tingled at the thought of him touching me. It was actually kind of nice, a reminder of the fun time I'd had.

Using a penis wasn't entirely new for me. Twice Master had given me a body with a penis and a vagina, but in the computer it didn't feel much different then regular sex for me, but last night had shown me that what I'd felt before was very different than the real thing.

I still preferred being a woman, but being able to carry my lover, cradle him or her in my big strong arms, and knowing I could protect them if I needed to, it was a good feeling.

Trying to figure out the new sensations, I was surprised when their was a knock on the door. Rachael was spending the day with her parents, having a family day, and I didn't think Neal would risk coming over when my Mom was at home.

Opening the door revealed a cute Asian girl with a round face and long black hair, was standing in the hall, looking nervous and embarrassed in her blue skirt and t-shirt. “Hi Sam.”

“Hi Becky. Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“Yeah, I want to talk to you.”

I held the door open and waved her inside. She sat on a chair and I took my place back on the couch. “So, how are you?” I asked, trying to think of something intelligent to say.

“Been better. Just got back into town. You really don't remember me?” she asked suddenly.

Wanting to say yes, hoping it would make her feel better, I resisted and went with the truth. “Not really. I'm sorry. Does Bobby know you're here? He really likes you.”

She frowned. “Bobby doesn't tell me where to go. But why did you beat him up? He had some pretty nasty bruises.”

“He hit me first! He almost broke my nose, kicked me in the stomach and the face, and was about to kick me again. I was defending myself.”

“That's not what he said. What happened to you two? You were best friends. We were best friends.”

Looking in her eyes, I saw an echo of the pain I saw whenever I asked what Master and I had done to deserve being attacked. Trying to understand something that didn't make any sense. “I woke up with jumbled and missing memories. I met a girl on my first day back home, who I liked, and when I met up with Bobby and the rest I took her with me. We weren't dating then, and we aren't dating now, we're just good friends. Then I phoned you and you got really upset. So the next day, Bobby came over and tried to beat me up.”

Taking her hand, I tried to let her see how upset I was about it all. “I really wanted to stay friends with Bobby, and I do want to be friends with you.”

“Just friends?” she asked, her eyes becoming watery.

I didn't want her to cry. Biting a little bulge inside my lip, I opened my mouth slightly and let out a little chemical cloud of concentrated endorphins, oxytocin, serotonin, and dopamine, exhaling them towards her face. “Maybe more. But not yet.”

“Ok, I can deal with that. I brought pictures of us, would you like to look them over? Maybe jog some of your memories,” she gave me a hopeful smile.

“Definitely,” I returned the smile.

As we looked over the pictures, she became more cheerful, and when she left a few hours later, she was on top of the world. Whether it was from talking to me, or the couple of doses I'd given her of my happy gas, I didn't know, I didn't care, I'd made her happy.

Two things, first this is fanfiction and has nothing to do with canon Whateley.
Second, the happy gas used by Glitch, is a drug that works extremely fast, and when something similar to it was put into rats and they could give themselves a dose of it by pressing a button, they pressed it as often as they would forget to eat and sleep. Everything that occurs due to an addiction from it is real.
So yeah, don't modify your body to put out an aerosol spray of the stuff.

Mississauga, Canada
August 10th, 2007

The next several days were interesting. Becky would come over to my house almost every morning, then I'd go outside in the afternoon with Rachael. It was a nice little life, just what I needed before heading into the fortress of my enemies. To help Becky relax I would give her three or four doses of happy gas each time, she seemed to get more agitated every day which had me worried, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it, so making sure she was happy seemed best.

“This room is too messy. Let me straighten it up for you,” Becky said, looking around my room. She'd only been there for about ten minutes, knocking on my door as soon as Mom had left for her job.

I had to admit it wasn't perfect, but the bed was made, there weren't any clothes on the floor, and the books were on the bookshelf. “What's wrong with it?”

“Look at your books, they're all out of order. And you have pens and stuff all over your desk. They need to be put away properly. Alphabetical order is the best, that way you can find everything you need quickly. I can do it in a few minutes,” she said standing up to do just that.

“Becky,” I said standing up to stop her. She was really irritated for some reason so I gave her a small dose of the happy gas. “Calm down. Relax, let's just sit and talk. Ok?”

She started to push me away, but then a happy smile appeared on her face, the wild look in her eyes disappeared. “Are you sure? I can do it really easily.”

“I'm sure.”

“Ok, maybe later,” she said sinking into my arms. “You have really nice eyes.”

“Thank you. Have you been feeling ok?” I asked.

She pushed me down and sat on my lap. “Why do I always feel so good around you.”

Playing with her hair, I gave her a winning smile. “Because I'm such a wonderful person, maybe?”

She kissed me. “Probably. When I'm not around you I can't seem to sit still, I feel like I'm missing something. Strange isn't it?”

Becky had been becoming more and more open and inviting since we'd started talking, and now she was grinding into me. I felt my body reciprocating the feelings. The one time I'd had sex with Neal had been fun, but I was interested in seeing what it was like to have sex with a girl and she certainly wanted it. I returned the kiss, wrapping my around her, pulling her in close. “We had something special, now we have it again.”

I was shoved backwards onto the bed. “We were waiting for your birthday, before we'd go all the way,” Becky said climbing on top of me, her skirt spreading out over me, as she pressed herself against my crotch. “We missed it by a few months, so I think should make up for lost time.”

She pulled out a condom, watching to see my reaction.

My hands went up under her shirt. “If you're ready, I'm more then ready.”

Her mouth found mine again, from the way her tongue pushed its way into my mouth she wanted to taste every inch of my lips and tongue. I sat back and enjoyed the ride.

**

“What's wrong with you?” Rachael demanded, when I went over to her apartment that afternoon.

“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.

She rolled her eyes, which she usually did when I was missing something she thought was obvious. “I heard you having sex with Becky. You're dating Neal already. Do they know you're going away, or that you're doing it with someone else?”

“I just like to make people happy. And she was asking me, I didn't start anything. And Neal seemed a little down and when I offered he became so happy. If I help a lot of people who I can make happy, why not?” I asked.

She shook her head, “That's called cheating, and leading them on. How do you think they'll feel when you leave?”

“Cheating? But we're not playing games. And I never told them that I was only going to be here until September. It's just sex, why worry about it?” I asked. Honestly if people stopped worrying about sex and things like that, and just did what was fun they would be a lot happier.”

“That's not how we think about things. People, especially girls worry about that a lot. When you go off to rescue your master, will you come back here?” she asked.

“No,” I admitted. “I can't risk them finding either of us again.”

“Right. If you make them feel REALLY close to you, they're going to feel really sad when you disappear, a little like how you feel about missing your master,” she said.

I sat back in shock. Was that really how humans thought? Was I setting Neal and Becky up to hurt as much as I did? “I... are you sure?”

“Yes. Go look it up if you don't believe me,” Rachael said.

“I will. If you're right, I didn't know.”

“I should have thought of it sooner. I'm helping you, so look it up and if I'm right, apologize and tell her you're not ready for it yet, but you still really like her,” she told me. “So how are you doing with your video games?”

Happy for a change of topic, since I wasn't ready to deal with that social problem just then, I pulled out an I-phone, and pressed some buttons. “I got it all done a few days ago, I'm looking at how to sell it right now. I think I'll have to get someone who knows about selling stuff to help me out.”

She got on the bed beside me, eagerly looking at the screen. “How do you play?”

“I kept it easy, and quick, like you said.” I began to demonstrate. “See you have to find matching blocks, at least three of them in a row, I made them really colourful. And you can change directions when you're drawing the line. And you have to break a certain number on each level to free a dog.”

“Can I try?”

Handing it over I watched as she played for about ten minutes. Once she was done, she handed it back. “It's not bad.”

“How can I make it better?”

Rachael played it for another five minutes. “The blocks are boring. Make them into something interesting. Fruit, crystals, candy, something other then blocks. Some music might be nice to. And when you finish a level, don't just show a dog. You could show the dog in a cage or something and with each point the cage disappears a little, then when you win it runs around all happy.”

I nodded. “I can do that. Those are great ideas! I'll work on that tonight. Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome. Now lets go do something fun,” she said dragging me off the bed.

**
August 11, 2007

Becky was at my door almost as soon as Mom had left. She was shaking and looked a little sick. “Becky ar-”

She slammed the door shut and her lips were on mine before I could finish. I was so startled we fell backwards, onto the floor. My shirt was ripped open, buttons flying everywhere.

“I need you,” she said, pulling off her clothes. “I couldn't sleep last night, I was so itchy, and I had to rearrange my room, it was all wrong. I only feel right when I'm with you.”

She was scaring me a little, so I gave her a dose of happy gas. A smile came to her face, and her mouth almost seemed to form a vacuum over mine. Pulling up her dress, I realized she wasn't wearing panties underneath them.

Pushing her off, I realized that something was wrong, and after reading lots of advice columns for teen girls, I knew that Rachael was right. It was silly of people to react like that, but that was just one more reason to free Master and escape back to the comforts of the computer. Still I had to deal with this problem before I could do anything.

“Becky. I think we made a mistake having sex the other day,” I managed to say, before she was on top of me licking my lips. “BECKY!”

She sat back, tears welling up in her eyes. “Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong!”

“No. You're great. But how about we just talk? Please!”

She sat on my lap, her nose practically at my lips. “You talk, I'll listen.”

With no idea about what was going on, I started talking about anything I could think of that wouldn't give me away. She hung on my every word, breathing deeply, a contented look on her face.

**

Mississauga, Ontario,
Early morning, August 16th, 2007

“Hi Becky,” I said into the phone early that morning.

“Sam! Hi, I'm just about to head over. I can't stop thinking about you, I just need to hear you talking and I'll feel better,” she said.

I gulped, she'd been worrying me for the last few days. She was talking less, more concerned about making sure that everything was nice and orderly in the room and just sitting on my lap listening to me talk, sniffing the air as it left my mouth. “Well actually I'm going out to do something. So can we meet later, like tomorrow or the next day?”

“WHAT?! NO! I need to talk to you. I really, really need to talk, you make me feel good! I don't feel right if I'm away from you. I'm coming ov-”

I slammed the phone down, my hands shaking. I didn't know what know what was wrong, but something wasn't right. If I was really human I might know what was wrong, but I wasn't and I didn't know how to find out what it was. I had to prepare for Whateley, making programs, using what information I had to plan escape routes and other things. It was better to just avoid Becky until it was time to go.

Putting on my shoes, I left quickly. It was better to avoid contact with her if possible. Easier was better.

That Afternoon

“So what do you guys want to do?” I asked, putting my arms over Neal and Rachael's shoulder. We were sitting at the drop in center, the day was cloudy with dark ominous clouds, and it was too hot and humid to want to do much of anything. Becky hadn't shown up that morning for some reason, so my schedule was out of whack and everything was moving along fairly nicely with my plans, so there was nothing I needed or really even wanted to do.

“I don't know. I think its going to rain later,” Rachael said, sounding as bored as I felt.

Neal yawned, before coming up with something. “How about a movie?”

Since that actually sounded like a good idea, I reached down and goosed him discretely. “I'm up for that. My treat.”

Rachael nodded in agreement. “Ok, but I don't want anything that you need to think about. Today is my non-thinking day.”

“Too bad Transformers ended a week ago, that is the perfect mindless movie,” Neal said, patting my ass. “Do you want to call a taxi, or take a bus?”

That was easy. “Taxi. I don't want to be stuffed into a bus smelling everyone's armpits.”

I'd just finished calling a taxi, and we were working up the energy to stand up when there was a commotion from the entrance. “Where is the fucking bastard?!”

I was on my feet as soon as I heard the yell, it was Bobby. He and Frank came barging in both wielding baseball bats, and totally enraged. “You fucking freak! What did you do to her?!” Bobby yelled, as Frank guarded his back.

“What did I do to who?”

“Becky!” he roared. “She's acting crazy! Begging for you, shaking, screaming. Her parents had to lock her in her room this morning and called an ambulance. WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!”

It was hard to breath, why were they blaming me? What had I done? “I didn't do anything! What did the doctors say?”

“You fucking liar! Were you giving her drugs so she'd like you again?”

“I don't know what you're talking about!” I heard the people in charge trying to restore order, and someone was calling the police.

Bobby didn't believe me. He swung his bat as hard as he could at my head. My arm went up instinctively to block it, there was a crack, and I was screaming. My entire arm was numb, the bone was fractured. Rachael and Neal screamed and dove for cover.

Cutting off the pain in my arm, I tried to grab Bobby, pushing my body as hard as I could. He didn't have a chance to stop me, he didn't have to. Frank was ready, clubbing my shoulder sending me to the ground with a crash. They started hitting me, aiming for my head and stomach. Dazed and feeling the damage piling up, I lashed out with my foot, taking the feet out from under Frank, who fell right on top of me.

Bobby was still trying to break my head open, and the arm I was using to protect myself was virtually useless. Pushing myself forward with my unhurt arm, my teeth closed on the side of his leg. I tasted blood, and kept biting until my teeth clicked together. He jerked away screaming in agony.

By then Frank was back on his feet, I didn't have a chance to move before he stomped as hard as he could on my knee. I heard it go pop.

Rachael came running up, pushing Frank away, yelling something I couldn't make out. He punched her, sending her to the floor, blood erupting from her nose.

There was a animal like roar of sheer rage from somewhere, and everything went black.

**

My fist was a centimeter from Becky's face. I was breathing hard, shaking furiously. The room was empty, a wall had a hole in it, the furniture was bloody. Frank and Bobby were lying on the floor they were conscious, barely. They wouldn't be moving anytime soon and they'd need casts. I wondered briefly what had happened to them, when Becky grabbed me, smiling deliriously.

“Sam, Sam, Sam!” She was was shaking like a leaf, her eyes were sunken in and bloodshot. “I need you. I really need you. I couldn't see you this morning. My parents kept me away. I need to kiss you. It makes me feel better. I-I cleaned everything in my room. It was out of order, and I felt a little better. But I didn't see you this morning. My entire day was ruined. I have to keep things in order. And it wasn't in order. I ran away. If I'm with you, we can plan everything and it won't be out of order again.”

She started kissing me, while still trying to talk.

My brain didn't seem to be working. I couldn't understand what was going on, and even with the pain dampened in my body, I felt broken and battered. I pushed Becky away, with only one arm since the other one wasn't working.

“Becky, I think you're sick.”

“I am,” she agreed. “But now that I've kissed you I'll feel better. I always do after I kiss you. It feels so nice. And then we can make love and I'll feel even better. You're just so nice, and you taste so good.” She started kissing me again.

After a minute she stopped. “Why isn't it working? I don't feel better yet. Why isn't it working?”

“What are you talking about? I think we should get you and them to a hospital.”

“NO! You need to make me feel better. Maybe if we have sex.” She started taking her cloths off.

How could she think about that when her friends were lying on the floor with broken bones. When I was beaten and covered in blood. I shook my head and realized that her lips were smeared with blood as well, Bobby's from my biting him and my own from someone hitting me. This wasn't right. There was no way this was right.

Something in my brain clicked. She wanted the happy gas.

I fell to my knees, ignoring the tearing sound I heard. I'd known she wasn't acting properly, I'd been worried about her. So I'd given her more of it. And then she'd acted worse so I'd given her more. She tried to push me down, pulling at my shirt, her naked breasts bouncing in front of my eyes. There were police sirens in the distance.

“Becky, stop,” I said. She ripped my shirt off. “STOP!” I cried.

“No! You'll make me feel happy. I feel so good when I'm with you!” she said, rubbing herself against me.

I could barely see through the tears streaming down my face. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” I pushed her away from me as gently as possible, and ran towards the fire exit at the back of the building. She ran after me. I cut every pain receptor and picked up speed, ignoring the grating sound coming from my knee. People stared at me as I ran across a street to get into another alley, I didn't care. I needed to get away from everything, especially Becky's wails, that kept ringing in my ears after I'd left her far behind.

**
Toronto, Ontario
Late night, August 14th, 2007

I sat in an alley, wearing second hand clothes that didn't fit well, stolen from a clothes drop off bin, holding a sharp knife I'd bought from a pawn shop, thinking about what I'd done.

I'd connected to the internet through my Iphone and did some research. It was quick and sloppy, but I studied exactly what my happy gas could do to a person, OCD, addiction, irrational behaviour, suicidal thoughts, tremors, emotional disorders, seizures, death. Giving something like it to rats made them starve to death, so desperate to get more they forgot to eat. And I'd given it to her directly how many times.

What had I been thinking?

My pupils widened so I could look at my fists. The knuckles were bruised and one or two were broken. I didn't know when that had happened, it must have been between the time of Rachael getting hit and Becky snapping me awake. My mind showed me the images of Bobby and Frank, their moans filled my ears. I'd done that. I didn't remember doing that, but I'd broken their arms, smashed their faces, snapped their legs.

And Becky.

I couldn't believe what I'd done to her.

She'd been smart, considerate, patient, and kind. And I'd fucked with her mind. I didn't know if she really wanted to have sex with Sam, or if it was was one of those irrational thoughts that my drugs had caused. I was suppose to make people happy, not hurt them. I was a love program. I wasn't made to hurt someone. I really was a monster. A disgusting, horrible monster.

How could Master love me now?

How could anyone love me?

My eyes went to the knife. It was sharp.

I was dangerous. Everything I'd read talking about the dangers of AI's. The Palm Act. How AI's weren't rational, a danger to humans. I'd proved it all true.

I was made to love.

Love was crazy.

I was crazy.

The knife went to my throat. I deserved to die. I was a glitch in the system. A dangerous program. I'd proven that beyond all reasonable doubt. I should have let the Monster kill me. The sharp blade dug into my skin, blood dripped down my neck.

My Masters face appeared before my eyes. He looked disgusted with me. With what I'd become.

The knife went in deeper, slicing towards my throat.

I stopped, the blade actually touching my windpipe.

There was only one person who could save Master. No one else might even be looking. I was a monster, but maybe he needed a monster to save him?

For Master I'd stay alive. But after that...

After that I could die.

Taking the knife from my throat, I raised it to my lips. Ignoring the damage I was causing, my broken arm rose up pulling my lower lip out, the sack of happy gas was in the corner of my lower lips, about the size of a thumb nail.

The blade sliced downwards. Blood welled up.

I wouldn't hurt anyone like that again.

**
Dark Wind Residence

Dark Wind was working late, looking over a potential deal to steal some magical cuff links from a major crime lord. It didn't look like a good bet, but she wasn't about to turn it down out of hand. Her Word program suddenly opened up.

'Dark Wind, this is Glitch. I need help and I'm willing to pay.'

She groaned. Fubar had asked her to let them know if the student contacted her again, and the MIT info had made her a pretty penny, but she didn't really want to deal with the kid again. Especially after learning that she was really a he.

'What's the deal?' she typed back.

'I need to get out of Toronto without getting caught by police, and I need to get to Whateley on time. I also need medical help. I'll give you 500,000 dollars.'

That was a good chunk of change, she wondered where the kid had come up with that kind of cash. 'What happened? And how badly hurt are you?'

'I got into a fight with two of my old friends. They were badly injured, and another friend was drugged. I didn't mean to do it. I have a badly broken left arm, a badly damaged knee with severe cartilage damage, three broken knuckles, numerous bruises, a deep slash to my throat, and a badly cut lip about the size of a thumbnail.'

That was pretty serious. 'Where are you right now?'

'Near Yonge St. And Eglinton Ave.'

'I'll get in touch with someone who will take you to a doctor. Don't ask questions when you get there. I'll contact some other people to see about the rest. Stay on my computer while I make the call.'

She didn't wait for his response, simply picked up her phone, attached it to a gadget and out of sight of the webcam dialed a number. “Yo, Billy says hi,” she said as soon as the other side picked up the phone.

“What do you need?” a woman asked.

“Got a friend in Toronto, who needs some major help. Shouldn't be any emergency surgery. You'll need a lot of stitches, he has badly broken arm, a really fucked up knee, a slashed throat, and a nasty gash on his lip. Apparently he has a slow regeneration.” she said.

“Alright, it will cost you.”

“Got it covered. Send me the bill and I'll wire you the cash.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

Dark Wind passed along the address.

“Tell him to wait for the blue car, it will park beside the Tim Hortons and honk twice. If he doesn't get in within a minute he's on his own.”

“Got it. Thanks.” The phone was hung up before she could finish. Turning back to the computer she typed in the information for Glitch.

That done, she headed downstairs for her special phone. Fubar picked up after a couple of rings. “Hello, Louis speaking.”

“Fubar it's Dark Wind. I got another message from Glitch, he's in trouble and I'm helping him out, but I'm not sure what you want to do next,” she said without any pleasantries.

“What happened?”

She wished there was more to tell him, but there hadn't been much time to get more info. “Apparently he got into a bad fight with two of his old friends, don't know why. He says he's badly hurt, nothing fatal, but moving has to be hell, his attackers got it worse. And somehow a girl was drugged, I don't know what's up with that, I'll ask him when he's in a safe spot. I'm guessing he doesn't want to go to a regular hospital, so I have some associates picking him up and taking him to a doctor that doesn't ask questions.”

“Good work. I'll talk to Carson, and see what we can do about this. We'll have our people find out what the police know and what the witnesses are saying. Can you stay in touch with Glitch and learn his side of the story?” Fubar asked.

“Yeah, I'm in between jobs right now. He can probably stay with the doctor for a week, and then I have a safe house that I'm not using. I'm definitely off your Christmas card list now aren't I?”

“Of course not. I have a nice lump of coal with your name on it already.”

She chuckled at his perfect deadpan response. “I'm off to bed now. I guess I need to set up a babysitter for after school, and make a trip into Toronto. Goodnight.”

“Good luck.”

**

The blue car that came to pick me up drove around for almost an hour, finally coming to a stop in a welding shop, after making so many twists and turns even I couldn't remember remember the route we'd taken. Two big men opened the door and surprisingly gently pulled me out, and deposited me into a wheelchair. We headed to a place in the back of the shop, where a crane had lifted a stack of steel bars that had to weigh at least five hundred kilo's off of the ground. There was a narrow ramp leading downwards, and a thick plate of steel lying flat beside the opening. They wheeled me down down quickly, and as soon as we reached the bottom, there was an awful sound of metal scraping against cement, plunging us into darkness. Another booming thud let me know the pipes were back in place. Lights came on dimly lighting the hallway.

I was glad I couldn't feel any pain at the moment. My body was sending back messages of catastrophic damage especially around my arm and knee. My throat wasn't much better, and despite my best efforts, the gaping hole in my lip was still leaking blood. I'd already sent messages throughout his system to fix the injuries, focusing on the most dangerous wound, which was my throat. The other injuries were painful, but with my jugular and windpipe practically exposed, it wouldn't take much for the wound to kill me. At least there wasn't much chance of an infection setting in considering my hyped up immune system.

We walked for over ten minutes, with a couple of twists and turns, hallways and doors appearing almost at random, until we reached a vault like door. It opened up smoothly and we entered into a spotless room with a decontamination shower, a dozen sinks hooked up to some plastic container, a series of lockers, white towels wrapped in plastic and gowns, a stretcher was waiting for us.

“Don't move much,” the biggest man said. “We're going to take off your clothes and if you move much you'll cause even more damage.”

“Ok,” I whispered.

They lifted me onto the stretcher. My clothes were cut off and thrown away but my knife, wallet and shoes went into a locker. They turned on the water and began sponging the blood, sweat and dirt off of me. The water was foamy, making my flesh tingle, a single swipe left my skin gleaming, and it dried in seconds. To clean my busted arm and dislocated knee, they simply poured some of the solution over it, slowly enough that it wouldn't have added much to the pain if I was letting myself feel any.

Finally I was wheeled into a room full of strange machines and vats of something I couldn't identify. Two people, a man whose surgical mask pushed out strangely, and a woman with identical blue hair and skin, both of whom were in surgical scrubs waiting. “Lets see what we've got,” the blue haired woman said.

Not bothering to ask me anything, a devise floated to the stretcher and slowly moved over my body, just centimeters above me. The two doctors talked to themselves peering intently at something that looked like a large, red Iphone.

The devise finished its job, floating back to its rack. The two doctors talked for another few minutes, while I rested my body. Finally they came to my side. “Young man, you're in luck!” the man said in a high pitched, whistling voice. “We can heal your body.”

“But,” the woman said in more normal tone, “we're not touching your brain. We don't know what your mutation did to it, but the chemicals and hormone levels are completely abnormal, and the compartmentalized structure of your brain is something we've never seen. If you die, we'd be willing to pay your family fifty thousand dollars to study your brain structure. We'd just need your head, they can bury the rest.”

“I'll think about it,” I said.

“Excellent! Now we're going to put you in the Carter-Wellington Medical Devise for a few days, and you'll come out perfectly fine,” the man said.

“Actually it's the Wellington-Carter Medical Devise, but everything else Carter said is correct,” the woman, presumably Ms. Wellington, said. “It's just like going to sleep, and when you wake up, you'll be well on your way to recovery.”

“No, no, no!” the assumed Dr. Carter, snapped. “The Carter-Wellington Medical Devise, will cure everything, except your brain. We don't want to try anything there, it would probably kill you. And someone,” he glared at his fellow doctor, “doesn't want to try the Carter Resurrection Devise.”

“That's because it's untried, uses faulty science and would probably summon a class X entity. I for one don't want to be associated with starting a zombie apocalypse!”

I raised my hand slightly. “Can you put me in the devise. I'm tired.”

“Oh yes. Sorry. We'll just wheel you inside and then you start to breath deeply. You'll go to sleep and wake up perfectly,” Dr. Carter looked at his partner and gave a whistling sigh. “Almost, perfectly fine.”

I was put in something that looked a bit like a long oval oven, resting on a metal grate that wasn't very comfortable. The hatch slammed shut and locked. I breathed normally, while something hissed. Then everything went black.

**

Toronto, Ontario
August 20th, 2007

I woke up feeling weak, tired, and sore, at some point during the healing process my pain receptors had started working again. Since the pain was all over my body and more of a dull ache then an intense, holy crap I'm broken, like it would have been before I entered the devise, I had to assume I was healed. A very dry tongue pressed against my lip, the flesh was hard, like cardboard where I'd cut out the damn drug, but at least the hole was healed.

My eyes were still closed, even with my eyes shut the light was too bright. My hand curled into a fist, muscles moved smoothly over top unbroken bones. The skin felt too tight on my arm, but that seemed to be the worst of my problems. Finally I bent my knee, nothing ground against each other, the kneecap was in the right position, the tendons and cartilage seemed to be in working order, but again their was the strange pulling on my skin.

“Huzzah! It was a complete success!” Dr. Carter shouted.

Dr. Wellington wasn't so happy. “Almost a complete success, there were side effects as usual. And you can't deny them, this is why we can't market it yet.”

“Oh please! So he has some skin rashes, they'll go away with some good moisturizer.”

“SKIN RASHES! Do you need glasses or a brain transplant?”

“He's healed. It's good enough, is he able to be moved?” Dark Wind asked.

“Well as long as he takes it easy for a week or two, eats properly, plenty of protein, and lots of sleep, he'll be fine,” Wellington said.

“And moisturizer for the scales,” Carson added. “He'll be fine.”

“Right. Give me a few minutes to get him up, and a wheelchair.” I heard two sets of footsteps leaving, and the argument about how healthy I was continued. “Glitch, are you able to move?”

I opened my eyes, and looked up to a woman who looked nothing like Dark Wind staring down at me through a big pair of sunglasses, blonde hair obscured her face. “Yeah. What did they mean by scales?” This short question made me wince, talking hurt.

She helped me sit up. “You've got some patches of scales were the damage was really bad. Take a look.”

Dark Wind took the blanket off of me, leaving me naked. The first thing I noticed was my knee, the whole thing plus a fair chunk of skin above and below it was covered in snake like skin. It was pinkish, but the fine glittering scales were impossible to miss. That was interesting. On my left arm from just below the knuckles to my elbow I had the same skin condition. I touched the skin noticing how cool it was to the touch, and unpleasantly dry. My fingers went to my neck where I'd cut it, there was the same hard, dry skin, but the scales also covered my jaw right up to my bottom lip.

This could be a problem.

“Come on lets get you dressed, dumb ass,” the supervillain said. A baggy t-shirt was forced over my head in no way gently, and a pair of underwear and pants were put on my lap. “You can put your own underwear on.”

With hands that didn't really want to work I put on the rest of my clothes. “Wh-what now?” I asked, trying to get some spit in my dry mouth.

She shoved a sports drink into my hand. “Drink this, and then sit there and shut up.”

I was paying five hundred thousand to be insulted? If I hadn't felt so bad I would have started complaining, but I really didn't think I deserved to say anything. I guzzled the drink down, and wished I had some more, my mouth still felt dry as dust.

Dark Wind grabbed my scaly arm, and took a bandage out of her bag. In a minute my arm and hand were neatly bandaged as if I had a long nasty cut. A neck brace went on next, it felt a little too tight, but I could handle it. Then came the make up, and a stern demand to not move an inch.

Ten minutes of work and silence later, she was done. “Wait here, I'm going to get you a chair.” I watched as she left, her heels seemed to click angrily on the tiled floor.

Sliding off the stretcher, I went to the side of the device. It was shiny enough that I could see my face clearly, and I had to admit my hired help had done a good job hiding the scales. From the neck brace up to my lip was a mass of red and black, looking like I'd had the skin peeled off in a nasty accident. I'd have to make sure I didn't wipe it off, but no one would think I wasn't a baseline.

My thoughts turned to my friends, Rachael and Neal. Had I hurt them during my rage? Were they scared of me now? Did Rachael tell the police about me? What about Sam's Mom? I wondered if I should contact them. Briefly I thought about Becky, Bobby and Frank, but just thinking about them made my chest tighten. I couldn't think about them, I had too much to do to let them distract me. I kept my eyes away from the clean, sharp scalpels that rested on metal tray ready to be used.

The door opened, and Dark Wind came in pushing a wheelchair. “Sit down, we're leaving.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, gingerly getting into the chair.

“A safe house, then I'm driving you to Whateley. Because of your stupidity they're letting you show up early as an emergency case.”

“They're still letting me come?”

“Yeah,” she said. “The police are looking for you for beating the two boys, and for possible drug dealing, but the assault looks like self defense, you were attacked first, and witnesses say you were badly messed up. As for the drugs, they can't figure out what drugs you gave your girlfriend,” she hissed, “so they mostly want you for questioning.”

I felt a bit of relief that I could keep trying to free my Master, but only a little. “Is Becky ok?”

“What did you do to her?”

“I-I kept getting people angry at me, so I made a type of happy drug that used the hormones and chemicals we make naturally and when she started crying I gave her some. It seemed to work, so I used it more often.” I started to cry. “I did- didn't kn-know that it would do that. I wouldn't have used it if I'd known. I didn't mean to hurt her.”

Dark Wind slapped the back of my head, hard. “Stop crying, you little prick. My sources say she got out of the hospital yesterday, but she's seeing a psychiatrist and probably will be for a long time. You got off too easy.”

I forced the tears to stop. I had to harden my heart, there was only the mission now, nothing else mattered. Two big men, with bulges under their jackets walked use down a series of long hallways and a confusing number of doors. We finally reached an elevator and Dark Wind made me stand up. I didn't worry about the way her fingers dug into my arm, I'd heal from the bruises. In the elevator, Dark Wind pressed six buttons and we started to rise.

“What do I call you in public?” I asked.

She eyed me with something that wasn't quite contempt. “Aunt Debra, and your name is Pat. Got it?”

“Got it Aunt Debra.”

The angry woman simply nodded her head, and stepped out as soon as the door opened. We walked through a crappy hotel lobby onto the street. Aunt Debra came to a beat up pick up truck. “Get in, I want to get to Montreal by evening.”

My stomach growled. “Can we get something to eat?” I asked quietly, a little afraid to speak.

“We'll stop at a Mcdonalds on the way out of the city. When we reach Kingston, we'll stop for a sit down meal. Don't worry I won't let you starve or get hurt, you paid me for the job.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

At the first stop light, she reached into her purse and handed me my blood stained wallet. “You're clothes and phone were a total loss, but here's your wallet, and the stuff you had in your hidden pockets. For a kid you've got a lot of bank cards.”

“They're for emergencies.”

“Well you'll want to be careful about using the one in your name. They can trace you through it,” she warned.

I nodded. “I know, it always had the least amount of money.”

We got some burgers and fries at McDonalds, and drove for hours in silence. She was in no mood to talk to me, and I was exhausted. Leaning back I fell asleep.

**

We stopped for half an hour at a roadside restaurant. We didn't say much, and we were on the road again quickly. I was feeling fairly rested, so I couldn't slip away into unthinking sleep. Instead I thought about what had happened. Dark Wind told me I'd been under for just under six days, but to my mind it had happened yesterday.

Becky was ok at least. At least as ok as I could hope for. I knew what a psychiatrist was, I knew that they were expensive and her family was far from being rich, I wondered how they were paying for everything. I wished that I could see her files to know how long they thought it would take for her to recover. Would she be able to go to school in a few weeks? Would the other kids bully her for what I had done?

Bobby and Frank were possibly better off. They had broken bones that would have them in casts for a while, but their parents wouldn't have to pay for most of it, and once the bones healed they could get on with their lives. They could also go to school. Still they had to be in a lot of pain, and there were somethings that their parents would have to pay for.

My mind replayed every second of my mistakes. I looked over it, thinking about what I had done wrong, what I could have done to change the outcome. Then I thought of how I could at least start making things better.

“Aunt Debra, I need a computer and net access at the safe house,” I said after hours of silence.

She didn't even glance at me. “Too bad kid, I'm keeping you safe, and that doesn't include playing games.”

“I don't play games. I need to transfer money around.”

“What for? You need more spending money?”

Pulling a debit card out of my wallet, I slapped it down on the dashboard. “There's ten thousand dollars in that account, buy me a good laptop and you can keep the change. I NEED to pay back my mistakes. Becky, Bobby and Frank will need help and I can't give it to them physically. I... I hope t-that a million dollars for Becky and half a million each for Bobby and Frank will help, they're families are poor.” I looked at her, pleading silently for a real answer and not another insult. “Is... is that a good start?”

Dark Wind looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “You think money will make things better?” she asked. She wasn't accusing me, or mocking me, it was an honest question.

“No,” I admitted. “But I don't know what else I can do. Everything got confusing. I just wanted to make people happy. I didn't think. And now it's all out of control, and I don't know what to do. I'd ask Rachael, but I don't know if she'll even talk to me. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.”

She pulled the car over to the side of the highway. “How did your throat get cut?”

I brought my knees up to my chin, letting the unshed tears fall. “I'm all alone. I hurt Becky and the others. I'm all alone now. I don't want to be alone anymore. I was alone for so long, and now I'm alone again.”

Getting out of the car, Dark Wind walked to the passenger side and opened my door, making me get out and walking off the road to sit on some clean grass. She let me put my head on her shoulder, hugging me as I cried. It felt good letting it all out.

She waited until I had the tears under control. “You fucked up kid. Will you do it again?”

I couldn't speak. I just shook my head.

Dark Wind gave me a squeeze. “Good. Than you're better than a lot of people who just keep fucking up in the exact same way. Helping their parents pay off some of their bills is a good start. But killing yourself is the cowards way out. You can't fix anything if you're dead. When I get you to Whateley, I'm going to recommend that you get some counseling.”

“Why? I wo-” I almost told her I wouldn't be there for long. “I don't think I need it.”

“You almost killed yourself. You need it. Believe me I know.”

I looked up at her. “How would you know?”

She pulled the sleeve of her blouse up, There was a long scar tracing along her vein, from her wrist almost up to her elbow. “Experience. Shall we keep going? You need to sleep in a real bed and I need to go computer shopping.”

**

Montreal, Canada
August 20th, 2007

I slept the rest of the way to Montreal, when I woke up I was surprised to find a light blanket draped over me. “Come on, Pat, we're here,” Dark Wind said.

It was late evening, so there wasn't much to see except a run down neighbourhood with poorly dressed people, and a group that looked like a gang walking down the street like they owned it. My legs were wobbly and half asleep as I staggered out of the truck and followed Dark Wind up the stairs to a third floor apartment. The hallway was dingy and badly lit, but it didn't smell too bad and the floors were just dirty not covered in garbage.

The small apartment was dusty with a musty smell that let you know it hadn't been lived in for several months. The very basic furniture included a ragged easy chair, a futon, cheap tv on some milk crates, a rickety table and chair set in the kitchen, a cracked coffee table, and a few books on yet more milk crates. He wasn't sure what to picture when he thought of a villains lair, but it didn't include this.

“You'll be sleeping on the futon, I get the bedroom.” Dark Wind waved her hand, a dark cloud lifted the coffee table up and to the other side of the room. “Don't worry about pajamas, I've got a pair of shorts for you to wear, and we'll go shopping tomorrow. We would have done it tonight, but traffic sucked.”

“That's fine,” I muttered.

She gave me an odd look, but turned away quickly to unfold the futon. “Go to the kitchen and look through the cans for what you'd like. It's not fancy, but it's all good. We can get some things you'll like when we go out tomorrow.”

Without a word I went to the cupboard and pulled out a big can of beef stew. Rinsing the dust out of a sauce pan I had supper cooking a minute later. As Dark Wind cursed at the futon, I took off the disguise. I wondered what people would say when they saw the scales. Would it get in the way at Whateley's? Would I stand out even more? Would they grow and cover all of my skin eventually?

I stirred the stew as it heated up, trying to stop thinking. Things were too confusing, I just wanted a few minutes of peace. Closing my eyes, I focused on my brain, putting parts of it to sleep naturally. The noise in my head died down, leaving me still thinking, but doing things from a little ways away, more like a computer game, rather than personally. The distance between me and the real world was pleasant, I found myself smiling happily.

Dark Wind came in finally done fighting the futon. “You're in a good mood.”

“It's peaceful now.”

She came over grabbing my chin to look in my eyes. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah. I'm ok now.”

“No you're not. What did you do?”

Shrugging, “I just put a lot of my brain to sleep. I was thinking too much and getting scared and worried. I'm ok.”

“You're acting like your drugged. Do you do this often?” she asked.

“Nnnnoooo. I just tried it tonight.”

She slapped my cheek, hard. “Haven't you learned not to fuck with brains or your body. Do you have any idea what could have gone wrong?”

Very slowly my hand went to my cheek. “I'd have just fallen asleep. It's ok. I've studied lots about the human brain. I know what I'm doing.”

“Yeah that worked really well for you last week didn't it?”

“Dark Debra... Sorry, Aunt Debra, I'm not doing anything wrong. It's just a body.”

She turned off the stove, and walked me over to a chair. “Glitch, what is your real name?”

“Glitch. Just Glitch," I said. I had to put Sam away now, he'd messed up too badly. He wouldn't get a second chance.

“Ok, Glitch. This is not just a body. It's your body. You only get one, and no matter how fucked up things are right now, they do get better.”

I started to laugh. If only she knew, this wasn't my body, I didn't want it anymore. It was a tool, and if it didn't do what I wanted I'd force it. She started to look worried, I paralyzed my vocal cords, and forced myself to breath normally. My body, as if I'd let myself be this ugly if I had a choice.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

Nodding my head, I pointed at the stew, my stomach was growling. We ate the thick stew in silence and then she pulled some blankets and pillows out of plastic bags for both of us. I laid down hoping I could go to sleep. Dark Wind washed up, and did some things in her room. I heard the door open and Dark Wind slipped outside with a phone in her hand.

Touching the scales on my face and hand, I got up. My body was a tool, I'd make it do what I wanted. I went to the kitchen.

**

“Louis, This is D.W.,” she spoke into the devise phone while sitting on the edge of the roof.

Fubar's voice wasn't the cheerful tone she was used to. “What's wrong?”

“What else, Glitch. He wanted to kill himself, and even though he stopped himself, he is in a very bad place right now.”

“Any details?”

“We just got to our stop over, and he put part of his brain to sleep because he was thinking too much, and got scared. It was like he was drugged. Even better he's never tried it before, it's as if he doesn't care about what could have gone wrong.”

“Where is he now?” her friend asked.

“Asleep,” she said with some relief. “The healing left him pretty tired, and he's been sleeping most of the day. I'm tempted to get him some anti-depressants but I have no idea what they might do to him. I have a report from the doctors I brought him to, and they told me if he died while in my care they really wanted to study his brain, they've never seen anything like it.”

There was a pause, while Fubar thought about the new information. “Bring him here as soon as possible. We'll run some tests on him and consider transferring him to ARC.”

“Ok. Oh yeah, he has scales now.”

“He's suffering from GSD?”

“No. The devise the doctors used to heal him had some side affects, he has scales covering where he was injured. It wouldn't be too bad except he's got them on his neck, jaw and lower lip. He took a knife to his lip to get rid of what he called Happy Gas.” She answered his next question before he could ask it. “Happy Gas is that stuff in the girl who was hospitalized for drugs. It was a natural concoction of hormones he made himself and somehow pushed out of his mouth. He says he didn't realize what he was doing or how bad it would be.”

“I need to read those reports,” Fubar muttered. “So he can drug anyone he talks to or kisses?”

“Not anymore. He cut it out. He said he didn't want to risk hurting anyone with it again. That's why the devise had to fix his lip.” As she explained her stomach did a flip flop at the thought of a kid cutting into their body like that.

“Can you have him here tomorrow?”

“Probably, even with all the back roads it will only be six or seven hours, at most. The next morning at the latest.”

“I'll let Carson know. We have a room in Hawthorne ready for him, and if he's not dangerous to others there are a few students here who didn't have any place to go. Maybe being around some other children his own age, going through what he has will help settle him,” Louis said, with just a trace of wishful thinking.

“I'll do what I can on the way there to get him talking and maybe start losing some of the self-abuse,” she said. “Speaking of that, I'd better go and make sure he hasn't done anything else freaky.”

“Good luck. It sounds like you'll need it.”

“Thanks. I won't jinx myself by saying anything that will make the gods prove me wrong, so goodbye.”

With a last breath of the dirty city air, she headed back to her safe house. Stepping inside, she saw the bathroom light was on, the next thing she noticed was the crying coming from there. Running across the room, Dark Wind saw Glitch slumped down in front of the sink, blood and tears dripped from his lip, a bloody steak knife rested in his hand.

Wrapping the weapon in a cloud of darkness she took it from him, letting if fall gently into the tub. Kneeling beside the boy, she cradled him to her chest ignoring the blood and tears staining her shirt. “It's going to be ok. Don't worry, you'll be ok,” she whispered.

“Wh-what will they... they think of the scales?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“They've seen worse. Believe me, there are some kids at Whateley who would give their right arm to just have a couple of scales.”

“I'm ugly. I've been ugly since I woke up.”

Dark Wind stroked his hair like she did her own young son. “You're a regenerator, you'll lose the scales pretty soon.”

“The scales don't matter. This body is ugly. It's ugly, and bad, and smells, and weak, and does bad things. I didn't do anything bad before I woke up in this... this thing.” He said the last word like a curse, hitting his leg hard enough to make Dark Wind wince in sympathetic pain.

“What's your real body?”

“The computer. I want to just slip away into a computer where I'm pretty, and can do anything I want. I didn't hurt people there. Why did I ever think I could do this?”

“You hurt Becky. But she'll survive. And those two boys who attacked you were looking to kill you if the witnesses are to be believed. You were beaten pretty badly, anything you did was self defense.”

The crying got worse. “I-I'm not suppose to hurt people. I should be making people happy. That's what I'm supposed to be good at, making people happy, and forgetting their trouble. But I've been fighting people, making them sick, making them angry. What good am I?”

“Hey, look at me!” she said, forcing his face up. His lip wasn't that badly cut, just an already healing slash along the upper edge of the scales. “What did I tell you when you first talked to me?”

He didn't say anything, not really comprehending what she was getting at.

“I told you that the only person you need to worry about is you. So what if you can't make everyone happy, no one can. If you try you'll just exhaust yourself and end up feeling like shit. You have to make smaller goals, try to make those people closest to you happy, without drugging them.” Dark Wind knew that it would take a while to sink in, it had taken her months to pull her out of the depression she'd found herself in years ago. But hopefully it would give the kid a goal. “Do you want to call your Mom?” she asked.

“Can I call Rachael instead?”

“Sure. Don't tell them where we are or where we're going, but you have five minutes to let her know you're ok.” She took a minute to clean him up, and then gave him her phone, and disappeared into the bedroom, to give him a little bit of privacy. At least the illusion of privacy, she slipped a bit of the dark matter under the door, using it to funnel sight and sound straight to her.

**

I looked at the phone in my hand and thought about what I was going to say. I couldn't tell Rachael much, Dark Wind was too friendly with Whateley to risk being too open. But I could at least see if she was still my friend. I really needed a friend.

With trembling fingers I dialed her cell phone.

“Hello,” Rachael said.

My chest hurt, I didn't know what to say. I needed to keep her out of danger, couldn't let Whateley know about her, but I needed to know she was alright. I needed to know if I still had a friend in the world.

Hello, is anyone there?” she asked.

“Hi, Rachael,” I whispered.

“Oh thank god! Sam are you alright?” she didn't quite scream.

I collapsed onto the futon, sobbing with relief. “I'm ok. I can't tell you where I'm going or anything, but I'm ok.”

“You're mom said you were going somewhere safe. She's really worried but she told me that everything would be ok. But I still wasn't sure, you were...”

“I was pretty badly hurt,” I finished for her. “How much did you see?”

She hesitated before answering. “After I was punched, I didn't see much, I only heard you scream. Then Neal was pulling me out the door, and there was lots of screaming and things breaking. Sam... what did you do to Becky?”

The phone dropped from my hand, and the tears started to fall. I took a moment to collect myself, I had to tell her. If she stopped being my friend because of that, I deserved it, I needed to be punished and I'd accept whatever came. Picking the phone back up, I forced myself to speak. “I did something horrible. I kept making people angry, and I wanted, needed to make them happy. So I made a chemical, a happy gas. It was suppose to help make someone happy. When Becky came over, she was really upset, so I gave her some, and every time she kept getting sad or upset so I gave her more. I-I didn't know it would make her addicted to it, to me. I cut it out. I cut out the sac that held it. I can't, I won't do anything like it ever again.”

Very quietly my friend asked me a simple question. “Did you use it on me?”

“NO! I swear I only used it on Becky. She was crying and I wanted to make her happy. I didn't understand. I want to make it better. I'm, I'm going to make it better. If I could I'd take it all back, but I can help her and her family, and I'm going to.”

“How can you make it better? She was screaming and had to be drugged because she attacked the police!”

The tears came back. “I can't fix it. I know that. But I can help her family. I can do that much. They're going to get a donation to help take care of her. It's all I can do. If I could do more I would, but I can't. I can't. I can just make sure I don't hurt anyone again.”

“What will you do once you do what you have to do?” she asked.

“Don't ask me that. Please. I won't-” I couldn't tell her she wouldn't see me again. “I'm sorry. I have to go. Stay safe.”

She was yelling at me when I hung up.

Putting the phone on the table, I crawled under the blankets and forced myself to fall asleep.

**

“NO!” I yelled, throwing the toast I'd been eating for breakfast across the room. Dark Wind had just told me about a change of plans, which involved a virtually non-stop trip to Whateley. I was almost seeing red, but forced myself to calm down, a little. “We are spending the morning buying a computer and transferring money around!”

“Things have changed, Glitch,” Dark Wind said, staring at me impassively. “You need to get professional help, and the best place to do it is at Whateley.”

“You don't understand. I NEED to do this. I have to make up for what I did.” The anger was disappearing, replaced by an overwhelming grief. My dreams from the night before had been made up of Sam's memories. Moments where he'd done bad things, getting into fights, stealing some money from his parents, breaking his neighbours window, teasing kids. In each of them, he'd been caught and punished. Detention, grounding, working off the debt, and in the end he'd been forgiven.

When I woke up well before dawn, I'd thought about it. If you accepted your punishment, you could be forgiven, redeemed in peoples eyes. I needed to be punished, and then I'd find redemption. The money was just a part of the punishment I HAD to suffer, but it was the first step.

“You sure about this, Glitch? It would probably be better if you get some counseling ASAP.”

Wiping my eyes, I violently shook my head. “This is more important.”

She thought about it for a long minute. “Ok, but we make it quick and you can do everything at a cafe while we eat lunch. Deal?”

“Deal.”

**

We got a top of the line laptop and had a coffee and sandwich at Starbucks where I transferred the money around. I couldn't enter the computer like I wanted to, but it was only a little slower to transfer the funds around and write a letter from an anonymous rich person who felt sympathy for each of the families.

Just a little after noon we were on the road to Whateley. Dark Wind cursed as we were forced to wait for construction and traffic jams as we drove, casting worried glances at me the entire way. For my part, I concentrated on my brain. I had to make sure I was stable for the mission ahead. I'd screwed up enough already. As soon as I passed through the school gates, there could be no chance of a screw up, not if I wanted to free Master.

I buried the fear and panic deep inside of me, locking it away as tightly as I could. I had no other choice, I had to succeed for Master.

Whateley Academy,
Morning, August 22nd, 2007

Head Mistress Carson was sitting in her office, remembering the wonderful, if short, visit to New York, after visiting a new student in Pittsburgh. The paperwork wasn't quite the mountain it would be in less then two weeks when the students arrived, but it was steadily building up. As she thought about the coming year, Carson gave a silent wish that it would be easier then the last one, there wasn't much hope for that, but she could dream.

Louis appeared in front of her desk. He'd been expected as the newest problem student was supposed to arrive sometime before noon. As she smiled at him, she didn't say good morning or another calm greeting, his face was twisted in confusion and more then a little disgust. "What's wrong?"

"Sam is in Dunwich, he's making a quick stop in Cecilia's to get some clothes," Louis said.

"Alright, why does it look like you've just stepped in something?"

He closed his eyes like he was trying stop seeing something. "He's radiating some unique thoughts. I'd almost say it's some kind of very detailed psychic defense, and it is extremely distracting."

"A psychic defense. Why wasn't that found during the powers testing? And why didn't it stop Babble?"

"I don't know, but I've never seen anything quite like it. He's playing the same three hours of what could kindly be called a movie in his head, continuously and in great detail, even when he's asleep. It's drowning out any other thoughts he might broadcast."

She thought about that for a second. If his defenses were unique, was it a part of his mutation, a defense he somehow created, or a way for his 'master' to keep telepaths from reading what really happened to him. "What type of movie is it?" Carson finally asked.

"Have you ever heard of hentai?"

**

We'd had stopped in small town that barely appeared on a map the night before. The late start, combined with construction around Montreal, a long wait at the border, and the narrow winding roads had forced Dark Wind to call a halt at midnight and we'd gotten a cheap motel room. I was happy about that, I needed the time to calm myself down. I'd barely talked to Dark Wind for the entire ride, the panic was building up in me, as we'd waited to cross the border, I had actually been on the edge of a panic attack. It had passed when I reminded myself that I was doing all of this to free Master, but it was hard.

The night hadn't been much better. I kept wanting to get into the car and drive back to Toronto, where Mom and Rachael were. I knew how to drive a car, at least intellectually, it wouldn't be too hard with the fake passport I had been given. I could go back home, and destroy any police records of me, maybe take Mom and Rachaels family to Karedonia and we could live off my money. It would be safer. So much safer. Pushing those thoughts aside had made me want to vomit, even as I cursed myself.

What had Master gone through to create me? Could I just abandon him like he was nothing? I wasn't even in any danger yet, and for all I knew I could be in and out within a week. What type of monster was I to EVEN think of leaving him in their hands? There was nothing I wouldn't risk to free him. I was his.

And...

And after I was done freeing him, the best I could hope for was that he would take what was good about my code and make a newer better program. It was the best I deserved after what I had done. My safety wasn't a concern.

When I did finally get to sleep nightmares plagued me. I would find Master and he'd be dead, tortured for months while I wasted so much time, calling out for me to save him. Or Whateley had lobotomized him, or possibly worse had turned him into an emotionless, mind controlled creation pumping out programs for whatever they needed. Then they'd find me and tear apart my programming, leaving only the barest fragment of my intelligence, just enough to know how badly I had failed and lock me away forever so I couldn't die or free myself. Sometimes Rachael and Mom would be there, they were being tortured as I was forced to watched, then they changed my programming so that I took up a scalpel and started cutting, unable to stop myself even as my screams joined theirs.

Waking up to see the sun shining in my eyes was a blessing. It took a long shower to wash away the rank stink of sweat and fear. After a long, quiet breakfast of pancakes, we got back on the road. I almost had my emotions under control when Dark Wind told me we were taking a detour.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You need some clothes. You only have three sets of clothes, and they aren't exactly the best fit. I don't know if you can leave the school until the term begins, and the school store definitely won't be open, so we had better get you some clothes now," she explained.

I looked at the dreary countryside. "Where? Shouldn't we have gotten them back in Montreal?"

"Nah, I know a better place, Rogers Fabric Boutique. One of the top seamstresses in the country, and a pretty good designer."

"I thought you wanted me to get to Whateley as soon as possible. What changed?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You seem to be a doing a bit better than you had been. And it will only take an hour or so."

"Thanks."

Dunwich didn't leave much of an impression on me. Sam would say it looked like Dullsville, I just saw it as an obstacle. If I had to run with Master, there was no way we could hide in the town, it would take less then an hour for skilled baselines to search the entire place, when you added in mutant powers, you could cut the time down to a few minutes. I'd need a fast car, or a teleporter if I was going to free Master. More complications.

We stopped at a small shop, and walked inside. "Hello, Ms. Rogers?" Dark Wind called out.

A pretty brunette came out from the back, a cup of something steaming in her hand. "Hello, Debra and Sam right?"

"That's us," Dark Wind said with a smile. "My nephew is starting school at Whateley's a little early and I want to get him sorted out."

The twenty something woman looked me over, her eyes filled with concern when she saw the bandages and makeup job on my left hand, neck and lower lip. "Hi, Sam. What happened to you?"

I turned to look at 'aunt' Debra, wondering how much I could tell this woman. She answered for me, "He got into a bad fight, we had to use a devise to heal him and there were side affects. He's a regenerator so he should get his normal skin back after a while."

"Ok, well that simplifies things."

I let the two women talk about prices and things, Dark Wind explained that price was no object. I took the time to wander around, looking at the clothes that were made and half made. It seemed to be so much trouble to make clothes, when with a few seconds thought I could make clothes that were more beautiful, more magical, than these on the computer. I touched a red slip of a dress, picturing my real body in it, thinking of how pretty I'd look. Deciding how to change my hair and body to fit it best. It was all so easy in the computer.

"You like it?" Cecilia asked

"I could look beautiful in it," I answered without thinking.

There was a pause, as she considered what I'd said. "Would you like to help me pick out some designs for your clothes?"

"Can I use my computer to show you what I'd like?"

"Sure," she said, smiling encouragingly.

**

She didn't act surprised when I hooked myself up, when she saw my real body she complimented my appearance. "Ok Sam, what type of clothes are you thinking about?" she asked into the microphone.

I brought up a 3D model of my physical body. "I mostly want the regular Whateley school uniform. But I want something with more pockets and deeper ones." The model was clothed in the uniform with several inner pockets, that would be hard to see from the outside.

"That is easy enough. Are you a gadgeteer, a devisor, or a technomancer?"

"A gadgeteer with a focus on computers, and a technomancer. Why?" I asked.

"Then you'll want a lab coat, it's the unofficial uniform of the engineers. I can make you some that are more comfortable than what you'd find at Whateley," she said.

I thought about it, and even put a plain white lab coat on the model. It was ugly. But if gadgeteers needed one to fit in, I had to have one. Then I remembered a movie I had watched about people living in a mostly digital world fighting a losing war against an unstoppable enemy. I covered the model in a black leather trench coat that hung past my knees. Without thinking about it, I replaced the Whateley uniform with a tight long sleeved black shirt, black pants and black shoes, topping it off with black sunglasses that hid my eyes. "What about this?"

"The Matrix," Cecelia chuckled, "appropriate. What type of cloth are you thinking about?"

I wasn't sure if I should mention what I was thinking, but it was mentioned in the student handbook so it probably wasn't bad to ask. "Do you have anything that's bullet proof?"

"Of course, I'd recommend Kevra. A shirt or pants made of it won't stop most bullets, but it will significantly reduce the damage, without looking odd or impairing your movements. If we layered it with the trench coat you like, it could stop heavier calibers," she said nonchalantly.

"Could you put some harder materials like plates in the trench coat around the chest and keep it looking normal?"

"Certainly. How many outfits are you looking at?"

"Let's go with five school uniforms, two long coats, and five other outfits, one of them all black like I showed you before," I said.

We spent the next half hour discussing fabrics, cuts, styles and other things. Designing them on the computer was actually fun, and for a brief while I forgot about what was coming. Then I reentered my body and the fun ended. I was ugly again, flawed, a glitch.

Hiding the feelings as best I could we talked a little bit more of the fabric. After feeling dozens of samples, I decided to make the pants, coats and blazers out of Kevra, while the shirts would be silk, with colours ranging from black to sky blue for the shirts, and tan, dark blue and black for the pants.

Then I got to enter a machine that measured me in almost every possible position. By the time I was out, she had the first outfit done, black pants and two long sleeve black shirts. They fit perfectly.

Three hours after entering, we finally headed off to Whateley. The panic came back full force.

Whateley Academy,
Afternoon

We pulled up to the school, I felt my fear spiking, there was no turning back now, the die was cast and I was truly in the lions den. My hands shook, and my heart was beating too quickly. Closing my eyes, I forced my brain to stop creating so much glutamate, the chemical which controls fear. Taking a few deep breath's my heart rate was still elevated, and my palms were clammy, but with a few more changes to my hormone levels, no one would be able to tell what I was really feeling.

I started looking around, matching the buildings and landmarks to what I'd memorized from the campus map. Along the way I tried to picture the best places to observe the roads, buildings, and paths, where hiding places could be, ditches, groves of trees, and anything else that could be useful. We passed a few security officers, I tried not to make it obvious that I was looking at their sidearms and uniforms.

We stopped close to a geodesic dome, which had to be Crystal Hall. "Come on Sam, lets' get you up to the Headmistress to sign you in."

My hand stopped on the handle. "I-I'll be meeting her, right away?!" I squeaked.

"Yep. You're early, so she'll meet you personally to give you your student card and go over the basic rules," she saw me starting to shake. "It'll be alright, she's strict but fair."

If she was fair, why did she try to kill me? Why did she kidnap my Master? My body didn't show any signs of the stress I was feeling, but if anyone could scan my brain it would have told a completely different story. This had not been in the plans. I was suppose to get in quietly, not raising any suspicions, or making myself noticeable, this was nearly my worst case scenario. Forcing myself to give a genuine looking smile, I opened the door, saying "Alright, let's go."

A well dressed black man met us as we entered Schuster Hall. "Hello Dark Wind, Sam. My name is Louis, you can call me Fubar."

Dark Wind smiled so broadly, I thought for a minute she would hug him. "Hello, Fubar," I said much more cautiously.

He motioned us towards the elevator. "I thought I'd greet you personally, as I'm going to be your student counselor."

"Oh, thank you, sir."

"After you're done talking to Ms. Hartford, and Headmistress Carson I'll introduce you to your guide who will show you around the parts of the campus that are currently open for use. We're still getting everything ready for the start of the term, so the tunnels, cafeteria and classrooms are closed, without special permission, but there is still quite a bit to see. She'll also show you to your temporary room in Hawthorn," he explained as the elevator went up.

"I really appreciate it, sir. I hadn't planned on coming this early, I hadn't even known it was possible." I tried to sound grateful. Somehow I had to make them think I was a polite, young man, who wasn't dreaming of doing anything bad.

"We've had similar situations happen in the past. The important thing is to learn from your mistakes. And here we are. Sam if you'll come with me, you can talk to Ms. Hartford first," Fubar said, leading me to an attractive blond woman who looked very unhappy to see me.

I tried not to let the nervousness show. I was holding back absolute fear, but other stress chemicals were making themselves known despite my best attempts. I couldn't risk altering the chemicals further to deal with the stress while facing the enemy. Knowing that my face was rapidly turning pale, I stood in front of the desk smiling as best I could, waiting for her to notice me.

**

Ms. Carson stood up to greet her visitor. "Hello Angela," she said to the villain known as Dark Wind.

"Ms. Carson, it's been a while since I saw the inside of your office," Dark Wind replied smiling nervously.

"Yes it has, I'm glad you're doing better than the last time we talked. If you have time I'd like to invite you to supper later, but for now we have to talk about Sam. What can we expect from him?" she asked.

"He's fucked in the head. Sorry about the language, but its true, and I have no idea what he's planning. But you should know when we were buying clothes today, he asked for all of his pants, blazers, and coats to be made of Kevra. And it gets better, he wants metal plates put in the coats to protect his chest and back."

Carson stared at Dark Wind for a moment. Some, actually many students were over protective, relying on power armour, PFG's, and bullet proof vests, but most of them waited at least a month or two before getting them. "Do you know why he thinks he needs these?"

"No clue," Dark Wind admitted. "He was whip lashing between being terrified and calm for most of the trip here, and seemed about to have a panic attack when he heard he was going to talk to you, before calming himself down in less then a minute."

"Thank you, if you don't mind I'd like you to talk to Louis about this in more detail. I should get ready to meet Sam now. So will I see you for supper?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

**

Ms. Hartford kept me standing for several minutes while she continued to work on her computer. I risked a glance around the office, there was a low level buzz of activity all around us. People were busy making quiet phone calls, typing on their computers, passing forms back and forth, and generally being busy. I really wanted to glance over some shoulders, and quietly look for codes and pieces of information that could prove useful, but I wasn't about to risk getting caught. So I simply waited.

Eventually she looked at me, despite my standing over her it felt like she was looking down at me. She wasn't smiling, from the way her face was set, I wasn't sure if she could smile. Still I smiled as nicely as possible.

"I usually speak to all the gadgeteers and devisors with a skill for hacking as a group. But since you have come early and show a severe lack of common sense, I thought I should speak to you personally." My smile turned to polite attentiveness. "You may be able to make a computer dance outside, but at Whateley I am in charge of computer security, and I am very, very good at my job. I will be watching you, and if I see any attempts at breaking past the firewalls, changing grades, learning clandestinely about your fellow students, or doing anything that puts this school at risk I will spot you, at which point I will see to it that you are properly punished and likely expelled. My handle is D33rCr0$$, y-" She stopped talking, as I almost fell.

The barriers I'd put up in my mind to block the fear collapsed into nothingness. Terror flooded my brain. I looked at the woman I'd had nightmares about. The creator of Monsters, and the one who had ripped me away from Master. I knew that D33rCr0$$ would be at Whateley, I didn't know she would be meeting me, to personally warn me about doing exactly what I was going to do. Did they know my plans? Was this some game for them? Was she letting me know that I was only living by their willingness to humour me?

I forced my body to relax, shutting almost everything down that wasn't required to simply stand there and nod. I should have realized I'd be meeting D33rCr0$$ at some point, this was simply a little faster than planned. I could handle it. I really could.

Images of Master filled my mind, strengthening my spine. If I was going to save Master I had no choice but to keep going.

My enemy eyed me carefully. "I see my reputation precedes me," the woman said finally. "I do hope you won't faint on me, the janitorial staff is busy preparing the cottages, so I don't know how long you'd clutter up my floor."

"Sorry," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Now then, from the way you reacted I am quite certain you tried at some point to break into Whateley, possibly to get some useful information that would give you a leg up on your fellow students." She waited a moment to see if I would do anything. My brain was mostly recording by then, so I didn't, couldn't, react to her. "You were obviously traumatized by it. Good," she smiled. "I am quite ruthless in dealing with people who try to hurt this school. That includes the students. If I see you in files, servers or other places you shouldn't be in, whatever you experienced before, will seem like a picnic compared to what I will do to you. Do you understand?"

I didn't trust myself to do more than squeak out a simple, "Yes, ma'am."

"Very good. Headmistress Carson would like to see you now," she said, with a very tight, very cold smile.

I left her cubicle at a fast walk. I wanted to run away. Only the knowledge that Master was somewhere here made my legs work as I walked to the big, imposing doors where the one who was the ultimate threat waited for me. The fear was becoming overwhelming again. For all I knew the headmistress was going to kill me as soon as I was alone with her. It would be easy to come up with some excuse for my disappearance, especially since I'd only met the faculty. Everyone in the office was probably in on the plan. I was so stupid for entering Whateley. If I didn't love Master so much I wouldn't have come within a thousand miles of this place.

No, I told myself, they wouldn't kill me. If they wanted me removed, they could have had Dark Wind do it easily enough. I was already off the map at that point, and she was a supervillain, her kill count was low, but she could have handed me over to someone who could do it. That wouldn't go against her code of ethics. So they must not know anything. I just had to play it cool and everything would be fine.

I knocked on the door and when I heard the Headmistress I stepped inside the spacious office. "Hello, Headmistress."

"Hello Sam, how are you?" Headmistress Carson asked, smiling pleasantly.

I was tongue tied. I'd been her, Master sometimes liked me to play the woman and girls around the school. I knew she was beautiful. I hadn't know she was powerful. Something about her made me want to get down on my knees and beg forgiveness for stealing away into her school, beg her to give me Master, so we could simply flee. It took everything I had to answer her properly. "I'm doing better now, thank you Headmistress. And please call me Glitch."

"I generally prefer to call students by their names. Do you have any special reason to go by your code name?"

"It feels more like me," I admitted. "Sam was from before, not now. Now I'm just Glitch."

She cocked her head studying me. "Very well, Glitch. I'm sorry I can't give you a chance to rest, but I must ask you about what happened in Toronto."

"I made a mistake," I said.

My enemy waited patiently for me to continue.

"I was making people upset and angry with me. I'd gotten into one fight with a boy I thought was my best friend because I forgot about a girl. I had made people cry and angry." I took a deep breath. "I didn't know how to handle it. So I made a hormone mix, and an aerosol spray system, like a skunk would use, but much smaller. It was too make people happy. I didn't check to see what it would do besides making people happy."

"And what happened then?"

I felt a tear trickle down my face. "I used it on Becky. I didn't know she was addicted to it after the first few tries. I saw a study later about mice who could get a dose of serotonin whenever they pressed a button, they starved to death, because they were so busy pressing the button. I did that to her. Her real friends figured out I was the one who had made her change so much in just a week, they came to find out what I'd done. I fought them, and then I ran."

She nodded as if confirming her own ideas. "Can you still do that?" she asked.

"No. I cut it out. I won't do that ever again," I swore.

"Very well. At least you've learned your lesson. I'll be assigning you mandatory weekly counseling sessions with Louis." She handed me a folder. "This is your opening day packet, your student card, some basic info for the summer months, as well as helpful tips and advice are in there. If you could sign these papers, you will officially be a student of Whateley."

I signed the papers nervously. Expecting something to happen. It couldn't be this easy. But nothing happened, she spent several minutes explaining the rules to me, most of which I already knew, and with an encouraging pat on the back, it was done, and Fubar was escorting me out, saying something about taking me to my room in Hawthorne.

Somehow I'd gotten past the biggest hurdle. It was a miracle, and for the first time in weeks I felt a small glimmer of hope.

I'm coming Master, just wait a little longer, I said to myself.

**

I walked over to Fubar and the pretty sparkly girl who was sitting down, nervously playing with hr long fingers. She was completely hairless except for her eyelashes, but the way the tiny scales reflected the light in a rainbow of colours was almost hypnotic. When I reached them, she stood and looked up at me with big, bright blue eyes. Watching the colours play over her skin was beautiful, I smiled and held my hand out. She didn't seem to know what to do, staring at my hand like it would bite her.

"Glitch, this is Charlie. She's another early arrival and volunteered to show you around the campus," Fubar said.

Realizing she wasn't going to shake my hand, I put my hand down with a grin. "Hi Charlie. Thanks for volunteering. Can we find a bathroom first? I want to get this make up and bandages off." I pointed at the neck brace and my to all appearances badly cut lower lip.

She gave what sounded like a relieved sigh. "You mean that you're really ok?"

"Yeah. I got into an accident and needed to use a devise to heal me, it had side affects," I explained.

"What happened?"

The smile dropped instantly. "I-I'd rather not talk about it."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have pried," she said dropping her head in embarrassment.

My hand went to her shoulder. "You didn't know, so there's no problem. Do you have a code name?"

She didn't move my hand, and a glimmer of a smile returned. "Actually it's Charlie. I picked it out of my favourite book, Firestarter."

"What's it about? I've never heard of it."

"It's about a girl called Charlie, who's on the run from the government because her parents were part of a special drug testing program, and she was born able to create fire. Since I'm a pyrokinetic, it seemed like the perfect name." She seemed to realize my hand was still on her shoulder, and gently moved it. "I should show you the bathroom. Come on."

Fubar had disappeared while we were talking, so I followed her and spent about ten minutes removing bandages and scrubbing my face until it felt raw. The mix of normal skin and snake scales looked odd, but at least I felt normal again.

Charlie seemed a lot more at ease once she saw my normal look. Whether it was because I didn't look like an accident victim anymore, or because she saw that I wasn't baseline normal I didn't know, but I was just glad to see her at ease. "I love your skin," I said.

Her eyes bugged out. "What!"

"Uh, I like how the light reflects on your skin. It's really pretty."

"Don't patronize me!" she snapped.

"I-I'm not."

"Yeah right. Come on, I'll give you the tour." She headed for the elevator, her skin making rainbows in the air.

I followed behind her confused at how quickly her emotions had changed. Why were humans so confusing? It was probably for the best anyways, I needed dupes, people who could tell me rumours, pass on information, and help me with little tasks, not friends. "So where do we go first?"

"I'll take you to Homers Gallery. You have to look at some picture of a major big shot for the school."

"Lord Paramount," I told her.

She gave me an odd look. "Yeah. How did you know about that?"

"I heard about it from some former students I talked to." Ok, talked to was a lie, more like read their personal emails, as I studied Whateley over the summer.

Charlie knocked on an office door and said somethings to the woman inside. A few seconds later a panel opened up into a room that looked like a museum. "So here we have all kinds of things that the... alumni, have given the school over the years. I don't remember half of them, so feel free to spend a few minutes looking around. But first, there is Lord Paramount, please look at it, or he'll foreclose on the school or something like that."

I glanced at the rather ugly picture, my Master was far better looking than him, and shrugged not knowing what the big deal was. Then I wandered around the room, looking at the weapons, armour and other things that were displayed there. I couldn't use any of them, they had to be highly protected and if I ended up needing anything from here, I was probably dead anyways.

Then I saw a shattered circuit board. Walking over the plaque explained that it was part of the original computer where the Palm had been created. I wanted to break open the glass and crush the plastic in my hand. It was because of that creation, that I was illegal. If that... thing hadn't existed and caused tens of thousands of deaths and billions in damage, from crashing airplanes and trains, blackouts, even missile launches, I'd be allowed to exist with Master. Whateley was my enemy, but it was all because of that program.

"Ok, what's next?" I asked, forcing myself away from the display.

"Time to show you the buildings."

We wandered around the campus, with Charlie pointing out the different buildings and sights. Crystal Hall was closed, as was the campus store, we'd be eating in Hawthorne and if we needed to buy something we could write a list for the house mother to get for us. The class buildings were next, of those only the gym, pool and martial arts dojo, were open for use. Security was interesting. I really wanted to go explore inside, but I was only introduced to the officer on desk duty and shown the lobby. There was a good chance Master was in this building where he could be closely watched, I'd have to figure out a way to scout out the entire building.

Doyle Medical Complex was next. The nurse at the front desk was actually expecting me. "Good afternoon, Charlie. And you would be Sam, yes?" she said.

"Yes, Ms. Walden," I answered, glancing at her nametag.

"We were told that you would be coming over. We'd like to look over your scales, to see if we can find some way to speed up the return of your regular skin. You have an appointment at 10am tomorrow, please don't be late," she told me.

Giving her my best smile, I nodded eagerly. "I'll be here, thank you very much."

When we walked out Charlie was looking at me oddly. I couldn't tell if she was angry or curious. "Ok what did I do this time?" I asked getting frustrated.

"You're really going to look normal again? The scales aren't just GSD?" she asked.

"They're a byproduct of a healing devise. I'm already changing them back to normal skin, and should have it fixed in a month without stressing my body. Less with help."

She bit her lower lip, "And you really think my skin is pretty?"

Giving her a small smile I nodded. "Yeah, it's like looking at a rainbow."

"Thank you. No ones really said anything nice about my looks since I started to change. I didn't think anyone ever would," she whispered.

I saw an opening to get my first ally. "Most people don't take the time to see what's in front of them, stop worrying about them and live for yourself."

Charlie snorted. "Easy for you to say."

"Not really. I was beaten up by my friends because I tried to make a girl happy. I learned my lesson. Find a few people you can trust and don't worry about the haters." My stomach churned painfully at the lie, but there was no choice if I was going to free Master. "Is there anything else we have to look at today or can I go sit down and maybe get a bite to eat?"

"There are a few places you should check out, like the memorial garden, its really pretty and a nice place to relax, there are some dangerous places you can't go unless you want security to come get you. But I can show it all to you tomorrow if you want to wait."

Taking her by the hand, I started walking in the direction of Hawthorne. "Let's make it a date for tomorrow," I said airily, trying to copy how people said it in the movies.

She giggled and began telling me about how we got meals in our cottage.

**

Headmistress Carson finished her paperwork and stretched thinking about the well deserved dinner she'd have with Dark Wind. Of course at that moment Fubar arrived. Ignoring her stomach, she smiled pleasantly. "Hello, am I right in assuming you've gotten a good read on Glitch?"

"Yes and no. His thoughts are completely blocked to me," he winced in mental distress. "Nothing is getting through that movie. But his emotions are an open book, they're almost as intense of Caitlin's."

"And what can you tell me about them without going over the line?" Carson asked carefully.

"I can tell you that he is very confusing." He thought for a moment. "You could see or hear most of his emotions, he wasn't hiding them very well. When he was talking to Ms. Hartford, he was almost hysterical, then it died down to almost nothing, only to erupt back into terror when he went to talk to you. It only really stopped when he told you about what happened in the fight. His remorse is genuine and you only saw a sliver of it."

Carson thought about the conversation Glitch had with Amelia. "He wasn't scared of her, he was scared of D33rCr0$$. He was nervous before then, but when she told him her codename, there was the terror."

Louis nodded in agreement. "Now the question is why would he be afraid of her?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But it could be useful to know. I'm going to have Amelia track his movements in the computers. She won't stop him unless he is about to do something dangerous to the school or a student, but we need to see what he is after."

"I'll see if I can get him to open up to me. He has a lot of pent up emotion, he may be willing to tell me the truth."

She nodded. He wouldn't tell her what they talked about, but if anyone could get a student to open up and accept help it was Louis. All of this seemed to be half measures, but they didn't know enough to actually do anything without breaking too many of their own rules, and potentially losing or breaking Glitch, and she wouldn't allow that to happen if there was any other way.

Louis excused himself to personally greet Glitch in Hawthorne. Carson stood up to look out over the campus, it seemed so peaceful now, but she knew something dark and nasty rested under the surface of it all. "This year is already off to a bad start, couldn't I have had a few more days to pretend?" she asked the air.