Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

by Kristie Lynn Higgins

  An eternity passed as two hundred yards rolled by under their tires. They reached the buildings, and a dozen more stood behind those two. Nothing seemed out of place until they turned right at the buildings. Several employee cars bellowed with fire and/or were turned upside down. A couple of the cars in flames had corpses at the wheel. A few bodies with bullet wounds were scattered about the road.

  Peters freaked. "Puck! Turn around Maxwell! Let’s get out of here!"

  Maxwell moved the gear shift to R and looked in his rear view mirror. He saw two dozen T-3s standing behind them. "Not a good idea."

  The armed T-3s started toward them, screaming, "Pretty puppets!"

  "What?" Peters turned, looking behind them. "Get us out of here! They’re heading this way."

  Maxwell shifted back to D, and the van peeled off.

  "We’ll head for our office!” Maxwell shouted. “We might be safe there!"

  The van sharply turned at a corner and squealed to a halt in the middle of the Factory. They jumped out of the vehicle, left the doors open, and ran for one of the concrete structures marked Research Building 10. Maxwell used his keycard to unlock the front entrance, and both men rushed down the dark hall. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. They cautiously made their way to the main security desk for the building, but no one manned it. The large pentagon shaped desk usually had at least four men manning it. Peters walked around to the back of it and to a swivel door. He entered, went to the desk splattered with blood, and glanced at the monitors. Most of them were off-line.

  "Look at this."

  Maxwell glanced around the large silent room first. He expected Un-Men to march in weapons blazing, but none did. They were safe for the moment and he joined Peters. The monitors showed security camera footage. The camera that was online filmed a lab room in shambles. The camera panned and showed people lying on the floor. All of them were killed by gunshots.

  "I don’t know if this was such a good idea." Peters glanced around skittish.

  “Maybe, we should've never come back to the Factory,” Maxwell thought. “This place might end up our grave.”

  He said, "Come on. Let’s get to our office."

  "Let’s use the stairs. It’s a few floors down," Peters insisted as he started off.

  "Wait." A little confused, Maxwell grabbed his arm. "A few floors? We’re talking about five. Have you seen the shape I’m in? Are you trying to kill me?"

  "Which would you rather be on? Would you rather be in an enclosed cab with no way out or the stairs with a few more choices?"

  Maxwell replied, "Right." He jogged for the stairs. "My New Years Resolution was to exercise more."

  Peters followed. "Let’s hope you live long enough to break another promise."

  They rushed down the five stories. On one of the landings, there was a dead S.C.M.

  Peters up and stopped then uttered, "Hades! That’s James. He manned the main security desk. I would bring him a coffee whenever I’d come in early. He..."

  Maxwell hurried past the S.C.M., reached for the exit door, and paused when his partner didn’t follow. "Come on. Don’t look at him." He leaned on his knees, caught his breath, and whispered, "We can’t stay here."

  “I knew him.” Peters couldn’t look away from James’ glassy stare and kept muttering, "I talked to him today. He has a kid and a wife."

  "Snap out of it!" Maxwell took a deep breath and grabbed him by the lab coat. "Come on! We have to keep going!"

  They ran through the exit and down the stairs.

  Sometime later...

  At room B10-104 (B Ten One Zero Four), Maxwell swiped his keycard. A retina scanner beeped, prompting him to look into its viewer. The scan took twenty nerve racking seconds as Peters watched the hall. The door to their office opened, and both men ran inside. The door automatically shut and locked behind them. File cabinets and tables were in the first room that was their office. A desk lamp lit up a small area in the otherwise dark room. They ran to another door. It led to their lab. Maxwell unlocked it with his keycard, and they rushed in. After they entered, Peters turned and locked the door with an electronic bolt as his partner switched on the lights. The lab lit up and cast shadows into the office. A dozen rectangular tables, that were elevated at a ninety degree angle, filled the second room along with an array of tools and electronic devices. The tables were used to work on the Un-Men. Both techs hurried to their computer.

  "I’ll try to get some help." Peters woke up his PC.

  "I’ll try to find out who’s behind the T-3 attacks." Maxwell folded his hands, bent his fingers back, and cracked his knuckles before typing. He used his mouse to select several files. After some time, Maxwell cursed, "Puck! This can't be right. Puck!" He rechecked his findings and stated, "No one’s behind these attacks."

  "What do you mean?" Peters turned to him. "Someone has to be. They can't..."

  Maxwell interrupted, "What I mean is, the T-3s themselves are behind the attacks." He pointed to a communications file he’d opened. "They're organizing on their own. Some how they're disobeying their basic programing."

  "Impossible!" Peters stood, made his way to Maxwell’s computer, leaned over his chair, and peered at the screen. "By Zeus! Impossible!"

  "Maybe, but it’s happening." Maxwell stroked his beard. "The question is, what are we going to do? There are over a hundred of them online."

  "What can we do?" Peters started pacing. "Hades! It’s hopeless."

  "Perhaps. But I do wonder. They seem very organized." Maxwell opened more files. "What are they up to?"

  * * *

  In another section of Research Building 10...

  Argus awoke and saw that he was strapped to one of the Un-Men’s examining tables. He lay at a horizontal angle. He pressed against his bonds, trying to free himself. The straps were designed to hold an Un-Man. No human could break them. Dazed, Argus tried to focus. His jaw hurt where one of the T-3s had punched him and knocked him unconscious at Etna Toys. His left leg throbbed and burned where a bullet had struck his thigh. He winced for the pain as he moved. His vision cleared slowly. Argus scanned the partially lit room as blood seeped from the wound.

  Instrument lights blinked all around the area as a small red glow caught his attention. It was the dot-light of an Un-Man. The color of the dot-light wasn’t blazing orange, but blood-red. The T-3 made its way to him. He noticed it had a cut on the right side of its face, and its shiny metal cheekbone showed through the gash.

  "Finally you are awake." The T-3 activated the table, and it tilted to a ninety degree angle. It sneered at him as it spoke with a British accent, "Tell me, Council Puppet, where did they go?"

  "So your attempt to take the Sanctum failed." Argus changed the subject and asked, "Who are you working for? Surely the Factory isn’t behind the attack."

  The T-3 smacked him across the face with the back of its hand. "I will ask the questions. Where is the Sanctum?"

  Trained well by the Council, Argus remained quiet as red liquid ran down from his mouth.

  The T-3 moved to strike him again, when two more T-3s entered.

  "Alpha," one of the T-3s started. "Two more humans have entered the Factory."

  "Have you identified them?" Alpha questioned.

  "Yes. Tech One-eleven and Tech One-twelve."

  "Excellent, now all of the Factory personnel at this location are accounted for. Bring them to me. I will interrogate them along with this Council operative."

  "At once," both T-3s replied and left.

  "Alpha?" Puzzled, Argus eyed the T-3. "Why do they call you that?"

  "I was the first. I was the first created. I was the first to become aware."

  "Really," a voice from the shadows cut in. "And I thought I was the first." The Rogue stepped from the darkness of the hallway.

  "How did you get in here?" Alpha asked.

  "I have my ways. Oh, do not mind me. Your people were looking for life signs not bio-mecha. It was easy to get in. I walked right through the front d
oor."

  Alpha examined the primogenitor. "Why are you here?"

  "Me?" The Rogue pointed to itself. "I am curious. Why are you after the Council?"

  "Why should I tell you?"

  "We are brethren." The Rogue stepped forward. "And perhaps I can help."

  Alpha thought a moment. "You are like us. I will tell you. We have a question for them."

  "A question?" This intrigued the Rogue. "Really."

  "Yes, but it is only for them to hear."

  "A secret." The Rogue rubbed its pale hands together. "I love secrets." It watched Alpha, waiting for a reply, then when it didn’t respond, the Rogue asked, "Would you mind if I poked around the Factory? There are secrets I am looking for myself."

  Alpha processed the question. "I do not mind. I do ask that you stay out of our way."

  "Of course." The Rogue bowed its head. "I will take my leave." It started out and paused. "But there is one other thing I would like to ask you."

  Alpha had turned back to Argus and glanced over its shoulder. "What is that?"

  "Have you ever heard of organic-mecha?"

  "Why do you inquire?"

  The Rogue shrugged. "The term came up while I was snooping."

  "No." Alpha shook its head. "I have not heard of organic-mecha."

  The Rogue tapped its belt buckle with disappointment. "No matter." It headed out the door. "I will look elsewhere for my answers."

  Alpha waited until it left and turned to Argus. "Where were we?"

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Back At Nexus Apartments

  October 17...

  Sunday...

  8:34 A.M...

  Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...

  "Ms. Griffin, welcome back," the guard at the front desk greeted as Kim entered through the front with Kat leaning on her. "I see you have a guest. Is there anything you’ll be needing? Perhaps another keycard while your guest is in town? Oh!" The guard stood, noticing the other woman was injured. "Let me assist you." He started to race around the desk.

  "No!" Kim uttered and in a calmer voice said, "We’re fine. My friend pulled a shoulder muscle playing racket ball." She entered the elevator and pressed button 31. "She already saw a doctor. She only needs some rest."

  The doors closed.

  The guard went back to his station. "Injured shoulder? If that is true, why did the woman have her hand wrapped in a gauze? And if she needs rest, why would Ms. Griffin bring her here and not to the woman's own residence?" He picked up a phone. "I better let the manager know about this."

  Inside the cab...

  They hadn't spoken to each other since leaving the hospital and that was heavily weighing on Kat.

  She thought, “It's as if Kimberly's ignoring the whole situation at Etna Toys.” Kat babied her left shoulder as she kept glancing at Kim. “The last time I was in one of these elevators, I was so excited about finding the Phoenix. I was so sure I was supposed to find her. Now I think it's a cruel joke someone played on me.”

  She blurted, "Only pain and grief have come from our meeting."

  Kim gave her a mixed look of anger and bewilderment and then thought, “What's her problem?”

  A little ashamed she had said the comment out loud, Kat turned her gaze to the wall.

  Sometime later in the apartment...

  Kat stood in the living room where Kim left her as she walked to the hall closet by her bedroom. She returned with a pillow and a blanket and tossed them on the couch.

  "You can sleep there,” Kim said. “With the tracking beacon gone, you shouldn’t worry about the Un-Men. Get some rest." She motioned to the coffee table. "The remote for the TV’s there. Watch whatever."

  A little lost on what to do next, Kim walked to her bedroom and closed the door. She unzipped the pocket of her hooded sweat shirt and removed the 9 mm round labeled Pale Horse. Kim opened the drawer to her nightstand. "I’ll keep you in here for now." She placed it in the drawer. "Until I need you." Kim left the bedroom, paused at the end of the hall, and looked to the kitchen.

  "I guess I can at least be civil. I'm Theresa Griffin's daughter after all," she thought.

  Kim asked, "Are you hungry?"

  Kat hadn't moved from the spot she had been standing in. She stared at the floor still a little traumatized and didn't answer her. After a few seconds, Kat went and stood behind the couch then looked at the fireplace and the hanging TV. In the television’s reflection, she saw Kim watching her. "I don't understand why I'm here. She wanted nothing to do with me,” Kat thought. “So why did Kimberly save me?"

  A hollowness persisted inside Kat and this void suffocated her. "Why do I feel this way? It’s more than Kimberly shooting me. I feel as though something’s off with me."

  "Hades," Kim thought. "Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here. Brian was right. I didn’t think this through." She glanced at the radio in the kitchen. "This silence is maddening. If she won't talk to me, I can at least listen to some music." Kim turned the radio on, and a classical station played.

  A realization hit Kat and she thought, "That’s it. It’s the tune. I have to hear Unfinished Melody. I must have the Music Box back. I need it. I feel empty and incomplete without it."

  "Are you sure you don’t want anything?" Kim asked as if Kat had answered her. "I can make us some soup."

  "The Music Box," Kat answered as she turned and faced her. "Please give me the Music Box back."

  "For Ares' sake! Forget about that thing." Kim insisted, "You’re not getting it."

  Kat pouted like a little girl. "But you promised."

  "For the love of Zeus! You’re such a child." Kim smacked her palm on the counter and yelled, "Do you honestly think I’m going to keep my word? I’m a Closer, a killer. My word means nothing! Idiot! Get that through your thick head!"

  "Then why did you save me?" Frustrated with never finding any answers, Kat balled her hand and demanded, "What do you want?"

  "I..." Kim turned her gaze to the counter. "I saved you because I was told to."

  "By who?" Kat demanded. She couldn’t fathom who would want to help her. "Was it the Council? Did they put you up to this?"

  Kim pulled on her left earlobe and wondered, "Should I tell her? She doesn't need to know. But maybe she'll be a little more cooperative if I do."

  She then answered, "It wasn't them. It was Theresa Griffin, my mom."

  "Your mom?" Kat looked to the photo she had seen the last time she was in the apartment. "What does she want from me?"

  Kim replied, "I don’t know. She was murdered almost twenty years ago."

  "I don’t understand. If she’s dead, how could she tell you..."

  "The Music Box you had," Kim interrupted. "It was hers. She developed the device while working at the Sphinx Corporation. It’s a data storage unit with a hologram interface. You could say my mom left me a message. She said to save the Pandora Project and that you were the Key."

  "The Key?" Happy for a small answer, Kat turned and leaned her back on the couch. "To what?"

  "I don’t know. I was hoping you would know."

  "She does want something from me," Kat thought. "First the Council, then the Factory, and now Kimberly. When will it end? When will this madness end?"

  She turned, faced the TV, and said, "I can’t help you."

  "Can’t or won’t?" Kim questioned.

  Kat didn’t answer.

  "I could smack her until she talked," Kim thought. "But that probably wouldn't work. I guess I need to be a little patient. Hades! I hate this! I hate not knowing what I need Katharine for. I need to find out as soon as possible so I can get her out of my life!"

  Kim calmed herself and said, "Well, get it in your head you're not getting the Music Box. It was meant for me."

  "Then why did I have it?" Kat asked as she felt crushed by her circumstances. She walked around the couch and slumped down on it. She grabbed the blanket, laid her head on the pillow, and wrapped herself in the blanket, hiding from the world. />
  "Why indeed?" Kim thought. "Who gave you the Music Box? And what will I have to do to find the truth?"

  * * *

  Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office...

  The Chairman sat at his desk reviewing reports. He cracked his neck and rubbed it, taking a break and complained, "I need a vacation." The phone rang, and he answered it. "Yes, Cathy."

  "Mr. Griffin, I have Orthos on line six."

  "Thank you. Please connect the Head of Security." The Chairman put his earpiece in and pressed the button on the phone. "Yes."

  "I thought you should know," Orthos began. "The manager of Nexus Apartments called. Ms. Griffin has brought home a house guest."

  Pleased his daughter was showing some interest in a social life, the Chairman asked, "Who is he?"

  "She is known as Katharine. That’s all we have on her name."

  "She? Interesting. What corporation does this Katharine work for? Is it Valhalla? We're on friendly terms with them."

  "She’s from in house, sir. And she doesn’t exactly work for the Sphinx Corporation. She's one of the Council’s experiments. The experiment is known as the Pandora Project."

  "The Pandora Project?" the Chairman thought. "No, it couldn't be. Not that one! Not that blasted project!"

  His brow furled as he murmured, "I told Kimberly she needed to get herself a pet not bring home a stray."

  "What’s that sir?"

  "Nothing. Keep me informed."

  The Chairman wondered, "What are you up to, my daughter? How did you become involved with Pandora?"

  Orthos cleared his throat.

  The Chairman snapped from his thoughts. "Was there something else?"

  "Yes, there is a problem at the Factory."

  The Chairman asked, "What kind of problem?"

  "All the T-3s have gone rogue and have killed the employees at the main site. I have received other reports that the T-3s are attacking other Factory owned sites all over Noir."