SOG1- Science Fiction Action Adventure Mystery Series

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

  End Kimberly's view...

  * * *

  Within the Chamber...

  Ms. Nona reported, "Argus is on the estate and has found Pandora in Topa's office. It is about to kill him."

  "Good... Good... The Gamma Phase will finally be achieved when Pandora takes a life," Mr. Morta spoke as he beamed with pride, and then he inquired, "Where is the Closer?"

  "Holding outside of the office," Mr. Decuma answered. "The Closer will not move with the unknown woman in the room."

  "Finally..." Mr. Morta began as he considered all the hard work they had devoted to Pandora. "I have had such high hopes for this particular project. For one long year, we have waited to achieve this pinnacle." With elated breath, he added, "Now we will witness Pandora's transformation as it completes the Gamma Phase."

  Chapter Six

  Preacher

  Etymology, history and usage of the word puck...

  Puck originally was the word for a mythological fairy or mischievous natured sprite. The meaning later expanded and emerged in slang around 300 B.D.C. in lands owned by the Druid Corporation. It referred to one's disdain for something. The word has taken on other meanings over the centuries and has been used cross-sectorally.

  One year before Kat entered Topa's estate...

  31 A.D.C...

  October 26...

  Monday...

  3:15 P.M...

  Hellenistic Sector, Old Business Vicinage...

  Flickering street lights and neon signs cast a somber glow on Wayfaring Lane; it was a place where society's outcasts drudged out an existence. Many people lined the street, selling Transgenic Vegetables, used clothes, and canned food, and there were even those who dealt in flesh, Sunna Snapps, and/or stolen water rations. Huddled in a corner down a dead end alley, three dirty thin junkies shared a needle of Sunna Snapps. A man and a woman already shot up and were oblivious to their surroundings, while the third rolled up his sleeve, injected the yellow liquid into his arm, and leaned back against the brick wall. His body warmed in the cool air as if he lay on a sunny beach, and snaps of light appeared like he was seeing stars but larger and brighter.

  A six-wheeled robotic Street Sanitizer the size of a small car rumbled down the potholed road past the alley. Nozzles in the front of it and the middle sprayed a cleaning agent. Scrubbing brushes just behind each set of nozzles scoured an oily residue on the road left behind by the Tainted Rain. A vacuum in the back sucked up the dark liquid and stored the polluted water in a large tank. The small vehicles kept the highways and byways from becoming cesspools and without the cleaners, Noir would come to a halt. The loud Street Sanitizer rumbled on, passing a Grub Filter sitting on the sidewalk against a building. The eight foot square metal beast also known as a Grubby pulled in air, filtering out the petroleum based pollutants caused by Dry Clouds. Usually four Grubbies covered each block, but this was Wayfaring Lane; they were lucky to have the one.

  Evening approached as more people filled the street. Some wore Winnow Masks, marking them as recent immigrants to the Dark Half of the planet, but most of them didn't wear the air filters, having lived in Noir long enough for their lungs to become accustomed to the pollutants. Kat stumbled onto Wayfaring Lane, fleeing the Un-Man with the knife. The Un-Man attacked her four days ago and since then, it had been chasing her in a sadistic cat and mouse game. For the moment, it hadn't found her again, and she knew that because the Un-Man would have triggered her bio-mecha warning like the Un-Men had done when they first entered Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. Kat also knew she couldn't stop running until she found a place that was safe. Blood caked her left shoulder where one of the Un-Men's bullets had grazed her, and dried plasma crusted the knife cut on her left forearm. Since waking at Etna, she had only eaten what food she could scrounge from trash cans and slept only minutes at a time. Exhaustion and mental anguish were taking their toll on her.

  Weary to the bone, Kat sprinted down an obscure alley, looking over her shoulder and splattering through puddles of Tainted Rain. The black water that smelled of petroleum speckled her t-shirt and pants. She turned the corner and ran into a man who wore a black trench coat. She stumbled back, and he said nothing to her only eyed her curiously, so with a trembling hand, Kat raised her gun and aimed it at him.

  "There's no need for that," he said. "My job isn't to kill you."

  She was too tired to understand and took two steps back to bolt. Her face showed fatigue, and her eyes had the look of a lost puppy.

  "I'm Argus. My employers the Council have some information for you," he said, taking a step forward, pushed the gun down to her side, and noted her wounds, including the large bruise on her forehead. He told her, "The Un-Man that the Factory sent after you, the Rogue, is no ordinary bio-mecha. There's a glitch in its programming. The Council wants you to be extra careful with it, and they also want me to inform you that the only way to defeat it is to reach the Delta Phase of your metamorphosis."

  She didn't understand what he was talking about, so Kat diverted her eyes to the sidewalk as if she'd find the answers there. The world she was thrust into was scary and confusing like a dark forest to a lost orphaned girl. All she wanted was for someone to help her. Kat smoothed her hand over the stubble of her shaven head, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening to her.

  "You said the Council..." she began. "I've heard that name before. Who are they?"

  Argus started to leave, but she desperately grabbed his wrist and pleaded, "Please tell me. You must at least know me. Please, tell me what my name is."

  "You don't know your name?" He took note of this bit of information, and then he told her, "You're the Pandora Project." He grabbed her arm, turned her hand over, and placed a 9 mm magazine in her palm. "To survive the tests, never run out of ammo."

  Argus turned to head down the street, and she shouted after him, "No! Don't go. Don't leave me. Tell me what my real name is! There must be more... I must be more than a project."

  He paused and said, "I'm not here to kill you, but I'm also not here to help you. You're on your own. Though it's regrettable you have no memory." He looked at her like one would peer with concern at a crying infant and spoke, "It must be very frightening not knowing why bio-mechas are trying to kill you." His expression softened for a split second as if he pitied her, and he informed her, "It's simple. You're being tested, and they're being tested." A black sedan pulled up, and he got in as he spoke, "Know one thing... stay alive."

  The car drove down the road as she stared at it unable to move. She didn't want to be on her own. She wanted someone to help her and to make her feel safe. The weight of what he had told her hit her hard as if she had just received a death sentence from a judge. Kat found she could move her legs, so she walked over to a building, turned before fear and exhaustion caused her knees to buckle, and she slid down its rough wall and landed in a lump.

  "Someone help me," Kat whispered as she put her head on her knees, wrapped her arms around herself, and rocked back and forth. "Please, help me."

  In the sedan...

  Argus removed his cell phone and made a call as the vehicle turned off of Wayfaring Lane.

  "I have some new information for the Council," he started and waited until he was patched in. "Pandora claims to have no memory of who it is and there does appear to be a wound on its forehead." He paused, listening to their reply. "Understood. I'll continue my surveillance and tell Pandora nothing about itself. As the Council wishes, so it will be done."

  Back down the street...

  Kat clenched the gun she held, trying to understand things that seemed unreal, like she had been flung into a world that wasn't her own. Argus told her the Un-Men were sent by the Factory, that the one she couldn't destroy was called the Rogue, and that it was no ordinary Un-Man. The Factory knew who she was, but she didn't know who or what they were. She also didn't understand why they wanted her dead.

  The coldness of the
sidewalk chilled her body, so she hugged herself tighter as she continued to rock back and forth. Kat found little comfort in her own embrace, and loneliness crept up behind her and threatened to snatch what little hope she had left. Minutes went by, and Kat knew what she was doing wouldn't help her, and if she wanted to get out of this messed up situation, she had to focus on discovering the truth.

  Argus told her the Council wanted her to be extra careful with the Rogue. It sounded like the Council was on her side, but for some reason she didn't think that was true. She had to figure out what the Delta Phase was and what she was supposed to turn into. She still didn't understand why these things were happening to her. Argus called them tests, that she was being tested, and that the Un-Men were being tested, but what was the purpose of it all?

  She lifted her head and stared at the Dry Clouds in the dark sky. Kat knew she should get up and keep going, but she was so exhausted. She was tired of running and considered letting the Un-Man capture her, but then she decided against it. Kat was more afraid of capture and what cruel things they would do to her than she was tired, so she slowly started to rise, when panic set in as her heart sounded the bio-mecha warning.

  Ultra-Epi rushed through her veins as she stood and franticly looked across the street and searched for the relentless hunting machine. Kat ejected her old magazine, and with a shaky hand, she placed in the new one. The e-field of her body altered as her eyes shimmered with blue electricity. She would later find out the light coming from her eyes was called Ult L-E (Ultra-Epi Light Emissions).

  The Rogue walked toward her down a dark cluttered street lit by neon signs and street lights. The Type Four Model of Un-Man had short, brown, wavy hair and a pale chiseled face. Black smudges from Tainted Rain covered its brown suit. The Rogue passed three hookers and their pimp.

  "Hey there big guy," one of the women said, sizing up what she thought was a man. "Looking to party?"

  "Yeah," another said. "Mr. Shades. What ya hiding behind those glasses anyway? Did yer old woman black yer eye?"

  The Rogue turned to the second hooker, and its polarized spectacles reflected a XXX red neon sign as it questioned, "Old woman? No, no old woman, but if we party, I will show you what is behind them," the Rogue spoke as it removed its large knife, grabbed her wrist as the other two women ran off screaming, and then it said, "Let us party."

  The hooker tried to pull away from the maniac waving a knife.

  "Hey, none of that kinky stuff till we discuss a price," the pimp demanded as he walked to them.

  The Rogue punched him in the abdomen as it told him, "Mind your manners. I am talking to the lady here."

  The pimp grabbed his stomach as he snarled, then he pulled a small gun, and spoke, "It isn't how things work here."

  "How things work?" it questioned, then still hanging on to the woman, the Rogue grabbed the man's hand that held the weapon, twisted it, and broke his wrist. It stated, "This is how things work in my world."

  The pimp cried out, dropped the gun, collapsed to his knees and held his wrist, screaming, "My hand! You broke my hand! Pucker!" he cursed. "You're going to pay for this!"

  Down the street...

  Kat fled in the other direction, but stopped as the pimp cried out. She glanced at her gun. Everything within her screamed for her to escape while she had the chance, but one small voice told her, save them. The flow of the e-field increased, and the blue stage of the Ult L-E glowed brighter as the voice grew louder in her thoughts. Save them.

  Up the street...

  The hooker, horrified by what she witnessed, tried to pull away and bolt, but the maniac yanked her to him.

  "Do not be rude and leave before the party has started," it said as it pulled her close and whispered, "Pandora. We have to wait for Pandora."

  "Pandora? Sick mother-pucker! You can get yer freak on with someone else. Ya creep! Let me go you pucker!" The woman screamed, pulling against his hold and yelled, "Let me go!"

  Kat arrived, raised her gun, and aimed at its forehead as the color of its dot-light changed to a fiery crimson, and a wicked grin slithered across the Rogue's pale face. She said, "You can release her. I'm here."

  It looked up. "Ahh... Pandora..." The Rogue paused and then asked, "Let her go? Why would I do that?"

  "Why? I'm your target. Why do you need to hurt anyone else?"

  "Yours is a valid question," the Rogue stated as it twirled the hooker around, wrapped her up in its arms, and placed its blade against her throat. The hooker whimpered as it continued, "I enjoy it, but bio-mechas are not supposed to feel anything, so that makes me something special, does it not? I think that is why my creators are afraid of me, and why they want to destroy me." The Rogue scanned Kat, noting her fear and exhaustion. It also noticed her eyes' bluish afterglow in the darkness of the day and that the light was not normal for a human. The Rogue told her, "It is also the reason you want me dead."

  "I don't want you dead. I just want you to stop hunting me!"

  "I cannot," the Rogue replied as it examined every feature and minute scar of Kat's face and imprinted it to memory. "I am still a machine, and at least for now, I cannot escape my programming."

  Kat hated depending on the gun for her survival and tried to talk her way out.

  "Maybe your creators are afraid of you, not because you have feelings, but because you have the potential to disobey your programming."

  "You mean like you," the Rogue accused her, and then it laughed. "You have done well so far to go against your own programming, but no... For me, it is my potential for evil that they fear. I am sure of it." It cut a tiny slit in the hooker's neck and made her whimper louder as it asked, "But what would a machine know of evil? Am I not the product of my creators' hardware and software or was some other thing added to me that makes me different from the other bio-mechas?"

  "I don't know. I only know you're hurting that woman," Kat answered as she started to pull the trigger.

  The Rogue ducked behind the hooker, so she had no shot as it demanded, "Drop your gun or I will slit her throat. Do it!"

  It cut deeper into her neck, so Kat gave in.

  "Okay! Okay!" she uttered as she placed the gun on the ground, making herself vulnerable. "Just don't hurt her!"

  "Excellent," the Rogue spoke as it smirked.

  "Now what?" Kat asked, not sure of her next move and witnessed the Rogue's grin widen.

  It said, "Now you watch me kill her!"

  Before Kat had a chance to utter no, a man came up behind the Rogue.

  "Hey!" the man shouted.

  The Rogue turned as the man swung a metal bat, striking it in the head, and the Rogue stumbled back and released the hooker. The attack knocked its polarized spectacles off, and the damaged frames fell to the street. Kat grabbed her gun and fired two shots, but the Rogue, with lightning reflexes, evaded the bullets, and then it backhanded the man, knocking him to the ground. It then turned on Kat and froze, seeing a black van with tinted windows speeding their way.

  The Factory had found it and would capture it if the Rogue didn't run, so it turned and fled down an alley, shouting as it ran, "We will finish this another day, Pandora!"

  The hooker rushed over to the pimp and questioned him, "Are ya all right? Oh, yer hand. Let's get ya to a hospital."

  The black van sped by them in pursuit of the Rogue as the pounding of Kat's heart lessened, so she set the safety and tucked her gun in the back waistband of her pants. Her irises lost their radiance as she walked over to the man. He rubbed his bloodied mouth and looked up at her.

  She offered her hand as she said, "Thanks."

  "No problem," he told her, grabbed her wrist, pulled himself up, and then introduced himself, "The name's Preacher." He picked up his metal bat and glanced into the alley the Rogue ran through. "That thing was no man. What was it?"

  "They're called bio-mechas, that model is an Un-Man."

  "They? There are more of them?
"

  "Yes, there are more," she said and muttered, "There are so many more."

  "No kidding." He walked up to a stoop and picked up a white Bible as he commented, "Noir's getting wilder every day."

  Kat moved to the Rogue's broken polarized spectacles, picked them up, and peered through them. The lenses were mostly intact and intermediately fizzed and crackled between green lettered readouts across tiny square screens. She realized the polarized spectacles did more than hide their eyes; they relayed tactical data from the Factory and from each other. She dropped them, crushed the polarized spectacles with her shoe in case they carried tracking beacons, and then she started across the street.

  "Wait! Where are you going?" Preacher asked as he ran after her.

  Still tired, Kat turned as he placed his hand on her shoulder, and then she repeated, "Where? I... I don't know."

  "Well, you look like you could use a meal and clean up a bit." He noticed the dried blood on her forearm and shoulder and added, "And some first aid."

  She stared at the thin scraggly man with shoulder length stringy black hair. Preacher wore a worn navy blue t-shirt and broken black rim glasses taped in the front. His blue-gray eyes and pearly white smile caught her attention, and they made her feel safe and welcomed. Kat noticed he saw her staring, and she blushed.

  Preacher waved his free hand, thinking she was looking at him as if he was a weirdo, and he said, "I'm not being perverted or anything. I run a shelter, the Kitchen. It seems to me you've been on the go for a while, so I thought you might be hungry."

  Kat nodded as her stomach growled.

  "You aren't much for talking are you?"

  She shook her head.

  "Shy. That's okay. Come on. I believe grilled cheese and tomato soup are on the menu tonight."

  Chapter Seven

  Farewell My Friend

  Seven months later...

  32 A.D.C...

  May 25...

  Tuesday...