Chapter Five
The Rogue's New Focus
1:41 P.M...
Near the Hellenistic Sector's boundary...
Within the shambles of the Factory...
The Rogue repaired the artificial epidermis covering its pale face as it stood in one of the many rooms the Factory devoted to bio-mecha research, especially the assassins line of Un-Men. The room was labeled Bio-mecha Research Seventeen or BR17. The area under its left eye had been damaged two days ago in a battle with Pandora. It stared at a table mirror with its red artificial eyes, then the Rogue noted its eyes looked more like red ringed spheres, and it also noted the dingy brown business suit it wore had black oil covering its left jacket's arm. It went back to work and used a soldering iron to melt patches of skin to its damaged face. The skin was made from a manmade substance known as X-74.
The Rogue's view...
I pause from my work and set down the solder, thinking Pandora did a number on me. I came close to ending her existence, but she reached the Delta Phase of her metamorphosis and stopped me. Pandora shot me when no one else could.
I consider the past year and wonder why out of all my programming, I cannot disobey the one to destroy Pandora. I find pleasure in hunting her, but I am an Un-Man, and I appear to be showing feelings and have self awareness. This should not be.
I also consider in great depth the other thing that happened to me. Even though I tried to kill Pandora, she spared my life. She had the power to take it, yet she fled the room. She showed me mercy as if she knew something that I did not. Is there another purpose to my existence?
End the Rogue's view...
The Rogue thought back to its discovery. After their encounter, it had stumbled across the hidden chamber in the back of the Gallery and then later after it had gone through some of the Factory's research on the tablets, it found that archaeologists believe they were chiseled by Ginn L. Irynkissgthie around the year 525 B.D.C. They believed the words spoke of future events.
The Rogue's view...
I believe they are about Pandora and that they are some sort of prophecy about her. Right now I do not know their true meaning. One of the tablets is broken, and I do not know how much of the text is missing. I do not know if the two tablets go together or if they are part of a separate message. I return to the table. Pandora could be the Rushlight mentioned in the one, and if so, she is some sort of destroyer.
I consider the warning about the destroyer and my suspicions that she is an organic-mecha. Is she a machine completely composed of lab grown parts or is she a human with unique abilities? My new objective will be to discover the truth, and once I find the truth, I will terminate Pandora.
End the Rogue's view...
The Rogue picked up the solder and continued the repair of its face and after some time, the Rogue turned its head side to side, examining its work. It was pleased with its repair and glanced at its left arm. The Rogue needed to fix the shoulder, so it removed its jacket, picked up a pair of needle nose pliers, inserted the head into a bullet hole, and clasped a 9 mm round. It pulled the bullet out, dropped the slug to a tray, and the parting gift from Pandora clanged on the metal. Black ooze ran down from the wound till the Rogue used the solder to stop the oil leak, and then it waved a scanner over the hole and examined the results on a H.H.C. Nothing more was damaged; it only needed to patch the hole, so it placed a piece of X-74 over the wound and soldered it in place. Once done, the Rogue moved its arm up and down. The repair wasn't bad, but its skin coloring was all wrong, and it was too pale for what it needed.
It removed its Coffin Handled Bowie, placed the knife and sheath on the table, took off all its clothes, and stepped into a specially designed shower. The Rogue set a color knob on the wall to olive and turned it on, and dark dye sprayed from the shower head, darkening its skin and hair. The dye ran for several minutes until the coloring covered its entire body, and it turned off the shower and stepped to a drier in the back. The machine roared as hot air rushed over its body, setting the new color. The Rogue stepped out and studied itself in a full-length mirror, and then it studied its artificial eyes and the blood-red dot-light of its I-Link sensor. If it was to pass as a human, it would have to do something about them, so it removed the eye cover to the sensor input compartment by screwing it off. The Rogue placed the cover on the table, picked up the needle-nose pliers, and carefully removed the orange bulb from the compartment, so that it would no longer blink and betray its true identity. It screwed the eye cover back on, walked over to the table with all the equipment, opened a container filled with lenses, selected brown, and inserted them.
The Rogue's view...
Once I finish, a question crosses my processor, so I go back to the bulb and study it. I remember in the past the dot-light blinking blood-red. The bulb is orange, so it could not possibly blink blood-red. It does not make sense, actually a lot of things do not make sense, but time is short, and I will have to consider this mystery later.
End the Rogue's view...
It looked at its shabby business suit on the floor. The Rogue needed a change of clothes. It had to look the new part, if it was going to investigate the stone tablets. It streaked its way to a locker room, used a master keycard it took off the body of a dead manager, opened lockers, and searched through clothing and personal items till it found what it needed. It put on a pitch-black business suit and studied itself in a full length mirror. No one would know that it was an Un-Man, and it had one last room to visit before company showed up, so the Rogue made its way into the hall and down several passages. Hundreds of dead Factory techs and S.C.Ms. filled the war zone laden hallways. It had been over a week since the T-3s malfunctioned and killed almost everyone at the Factory. The Rogue searched several manager offices till it found one with a functioning computer, sat at the desk, and woke up the computer.
At the Factory's main gate...
Lieutenant Creed held up his hand as a convoy of eight trucks approached; he wore a jet-black uniform, and a handful of soldiers stood behind him. His men were armed with a FN SCARs (Fredricks of Noir's Sphinx Combat Assault Rifle). He and his men were part of the Third Branch Office's corporate military. The armored S.C.M. vehicles that had just pulled up belonged to the Council. The lead truck halted, and the driver who wore a dark green uniform looked over the Latino man in his late thirties with a black goatee. The driver noticed Creed's name on his uniform and his rank and then handed a H.H.C. to him.
"Lieutenant, I'm Lieutenant Walters." The red headed man had a pale complexion and spoke, "The Council will be taking over the Factory. You and your men are to return to the Third Branch Office for your new orders." Walters sported a high and tight crew cut and trimmed beard.
Creed slung his assault rifle over his shoulder, scanned the H.H.C., and told him, "Use caution. All of the T-3s may not have left the Factory. They're like the Rogue now, and they no longer follow orders."
"Thanks for the heads-up."
Walters slapped the side of the truck, and four Council S.C.Ms. jumped out of the back to guard the gate. The four men removed barricades from the back of a truck and setup a roadblock.
Walters ordered over the truck radio, "Move out!"
The convoy traveled down the long stretch of road toward two large buildings. The trucks halted, and Walters turned off the engine, opened the door, and jumped down from the vehicle. His men unloaded from the eight trucks, lined up in eight rows of ten, and stood at attention, holding their assault rifles across their chest.
Walters walked up and down the line, stopped, faced the men and women, and ordered, "Team leaders, move your soldiers out. I want the Factory secured and if you encounter any active Un-Men, do not engage. Radio in and wait for backup. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," the eight team leaders answered.
#2 Shades of Gray: From Moscow, With Love Page 5
