I've already glimpsed with scrutiny. I remove the eight by ten photo from the album and look on the back, and it's blank. There's nothing else on the photo, so what does she mean by gaze with light? I walk over to the couch, turn on a torch lamp, and place the picture in front of the light. Nothing... I flip the photo over and examine the back, and it's still blank, but then a K appears and more letters till it reads, "Kimmie, find the music box; it will lead you to the Key."
My bad feeling is confirmed. I sit on the couch and look to the kitchen's counter where I laid the hope chest key. My mom can't mean that one, so what key does she mean and what does it open? I hit my fist on the cushion. The music box had been right here, and I let that strange woman leave with it! I stand, realizing it means I'll have to find her, and I wanted to wash my hands of the Pandora Project. I return to the table, wonder where I should begin, and then stare at the empty chair across from me. That woman mentioned Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. I head for my bedroom, deciding the warehouse is a place to start, so I slip into my working clothes.
Chapter Twenty-two
Etna Toys Plant And Warehouse
11:59 A.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Industrial Vicinage...
Ding... Ding... Ding...
The noon hour tolled in the bleak abandoned warehouse district.
Ding... Ding... Ding...
The wind dried the remaining Tainted Rain as a cold front moved in, chilling the already cold air.
Ding... Ding... Ding...
A black cat scurried down the deserted street in front of Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse.
Ding... Ding... Ding...
Within the warehouse, florescent lights flickered, lighting the rundown building as Kat stood in front of the overturned cot she awoke on over a year ago. She rubbed her temples as her head pounded, still feeling the side effects of the Ultra-Epi. Kat refused to use the music box to come down from the genetically altered epinephrine hormone since leaving Zeus Park; she was too afraid she'd be caught by the Council or the Factory. Anxiety pressed against her chest, and she looked at her shaky hand.
She mumbled, "Why would the Council do this to me? Why create something that causes me so many problems?"
Kat decided she wouldn't find any answers just standing there and searched the warehouse.
Hours later...
She placed her backpack on the floor along with the AK-47, and then she set the metal bed and table upright. Kat still felt tired after getting very little sleep the day before, so she undid the Velcro of her Ravlek, positioned the vest beside the cot, put her empty gun on the table, and lay on the mattress. She found nothing after searching the warehouse and plant for more than three hours. Kat removed her precious items from her pocket, studied each one, and lay them on her chest. Her eyes grew heavy and her body was beyond exhausted, and the warm cot and soft pillow felt nice against her cold skin, so she closed her eyes. Minutes passed as the wind kicked up outside, howling across the old building and for a moment, Kat was at peace.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
Her eyes flew open as her body prepared for battle, and the change to her body caused her pain since she had never purged herself of the earlier exposure to the genetically altered epinephrine hormone. She wouldn't be able to go on much longer without coming down from the Ultra-Epi. Kat sat up, and the music box and the note fell to the cot. She picked up the AK-47, grabbed her backpack and gun, and rushed to a dust covered front window. In the distance, six Un-Men unloaded from two black vans and stood at attention on the sidewalk as two lab techs along with two Factory S.C.Ms. exited the vehicles.
Outside...
Peters retrieved a modified H.H.C. from his lab coat pocket and passed it over the six Un-Men. "Readings within parameters." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "We're good to go."
"Excellent." Maxwell typed a few notes. "Let's upload the new targeting program into this batch." He looked up as the two S.C.Ms. spread out and secured the area. Maxwell turned to an Un-Man and commanded, "Team Leader, this is Tech One-twelve, prepare for uplink."
It said in a South African accent, "Voice identity confirmed, Tech One-twelve. I comply." The Team Leader turned its head and faced the tech.
"You know what?" Peters rubbed his stubbly face.
"What?" Maxwell uploaded the targeting program to the Un-Man, using the H.H.C.'s laser located at the end of the small computer.
Peters leaned against the van. "It's becoming boring."
Maxwell finished the upload and commanded the Team Leader, "Uplink with your unit and transmit the new program."
"I-Link established. Transferring data," the Team Leader relayed.
Maxwell turned to Peters and asked, "What do you mean boring?"
"For the past year, we've sent Un-Men after Pandora, they fight, she disables them, we take notes, improve on the models, and start again. Now don't get me wrong, Pandora has been beneficial to our upgrades, but when does it stop? When will the Un-Men be ready?"
"Transmission completed," the Team Leader stated. "Disconnecting I-Link."
"The Un-Men will be ready when they eliminate Pandora. It might seem tedious to you, but we've improved their programming, and soon they'll be able to overcome Pandora."
"What if Pandora is also learning and adapting? Is there any possible way to create an Un-Man that can surpass her?"
Maxwell thought for a moment and then answered, "It's a good question, and it means that we need to program the Un-Men to anticipate Pandora's upgrades." He opened the side door to one of the vans and stepped inside; the vehicle was full of monitoring equipment. Maxwell sat at a table bolted to the floor. "You sure are full of questions today."
"I've got one more... Why do you think the T-3 malfunctioned? None of the techs can find anything wrong with its programming or any of the other T-3s." Peters moved to the side of the van and peered in. "I've been working on them at the Factory, and they're starting to wig me out. I've never felt this way around Un-Men." He removed his glasses and cleaned them with his lab coat. "It's like the T-3s know they're different and don't want us to change what they've become."
"Become?" Maxwell pulled up a monitoring program wirelessly connected to a small satellite dish. "You make it sound like they're alive and that they're evolving." He grabbed the dish with one hand and exited the van.
"Isn't that what we're doing? Aren't we trying to create a better killing machine?" Peters placed his glasses back on and got out of his partner's way. "Isn't that evolution?"
Maxwell climbed a ladder on the back of the van and fastened the satellite dish to the top of the vehicle. "Remember they're only machines; they're things trapped within the parameter of their program." He turned to his partner. "I wouldn't worry. All that's happened is someone has tampered with the T-3's programming, and no one has stumbled across the implanted code." Maxwell grinned mischievously. "Or maybe we're dealing with a ghost in the machine."
"Don't joke about something like that! You know I freak out easily." Peters watched as his partner climbed back down. "Whatever it might be, I'm glad the Factory decommissioned all of them. I could swear some of the other T-3s were looking at me the same way as the malfunctioning one. They were looking at me with disgust, and they kept talking to each other like they were planning something on their own."
Back down on the sidewalk, Maxwell focused more on the mission ahead. "Whatever you say. Let's get this job done. I'm starved and want to go eat at Joe's Diner." He moved to the Un-Men. "Team Leader take your unit in."
It looked to Etna Toys, honing in on Pandora's tracking beacon. "I comply."
The six Un-Men marched toward her position as if they were one creature bent on destruction.
Inside the warehouse...
Kat hurried and put her Ravlek Vest on, wondering how they kept finding her. Cobalt current flashed from her eyes as she placed her handgun in the backpack, and then she slung the
AK-47 over her shoulder and grabbed the backpack by the top handle. Kat ran for the center of five boxing machines in the middle of the warehouse, slid to a stop, and took cover behind one of the conveyor belts. The first two Un-Men entered the warehouse through the front door; they were Pretty Boys. Kat fired twice with the AK-47, hitting each in the forehead, and they fell as two large muscular T-5s entered behind them.
The Un-Men kept filing in the front, and she wondered if they were decoys. She had sensed there were two more, but she wasn't sure where they were. Kat calmed herself, so she could use her ability. It was a little hard since she still hadn't come down from her last fight with the Un-Men. She managed to sense one as the fifth Un-Man entered from the side door; it was a T-2. Kat caught a glimpse of a rocket launcher before the T-2 lifted it and aimed it for her. She fled from her position as it fired, and the rocket flew, hit a large boxing machine, and blew it apart. Kat fired the last round of the AK-47 into the T-2, removed a partial magazine from her thigh pocket, and placed in the last of her ammo.
Her final enemy entered through the front door and walked over its fallen brethren, wielding its own rocket launcher; it was the Team Leader. The Team Leader paused and fired as Kat dove to the floor, and the rocket whooshed by her, blowing up a boxing machine near the cot. She panicked, realizing the note and music box were still there and rushed to the fire. Kat watched in horror as the flames devoured the note. She didn't have time to mourn its loss, not when she could still save the other item. She dropped the rifle, quickly reached her left hand into the fire, snatched the music box from the small inferno, and the lid seared her palm. She gently tossed the glowing red music box across the floor to safety and shook her hand in pain. Kat knew she didn't have time to focus on the burn, grabbed the rifle, and turned in the direction of her enemy. The Team Leader retreated before she could fire at it. Seconds later, her heart stopped beating the bio-mecha warning, and the Ult L-E dimmed. She glanced at her throbbing left palm and saw a star shaped burn as her hand smoldered as if she held a hot ember. She spit in her hand, and the smoke dissipated, but the scorching pang remained. Kat ignored the pain as something more pressing drew her attention, and she turned back to the fire. The note was no more than ash; it had been destroyed along with a little part of herself, and only one of her hopes remained. She walked to the music box and sat crossed leg in front of the ashen chest, afraid to pick it up. Kat didn't know what she would do if it no longer played. She rubbed her temples again as her Ultra-Epi induced headache worsened. She couldn't worry about the skull-splitting migraine; she had to know if it still worked. Using the sleeve of her jacket as a mitten, she picked up the hot music box, carefully wiped the soot from it, and opened the lid. A mountain of relief washed over her as Unfinished Melody played as clear as the first day she heard it, and her body relaxed. She thought about closing the lid and prevent herself from entering the trance, but that thought and her fears faded along with everything else as Kat entered the Drifting Time. Her anxiety and headache vanished as the tune reestablished the electrical balance of her body and made her vulnerable to attack.
Outside, the Team Leader headed back to Maxwell and Peters to receive its next orders, and soon it would return with more of its brethren.
Chapter Twenty-three
The Return
Katharine's view...
The three o'clock hour tolls outside Etna Toys, pulling me from my induced sleep, and delirious with fear, I search the warehouse and find that I'm alone, at least for the moment. How could I be so stupid as to allow myself to fall asleep? Did I want to die?
The fires caused by the rocket have burn themselves out, pockets of smoke fill the large building, and the temperature has dropped at least ten degrees. A cold front must have moved into the area. I close the music box, stand, cough a little for the smoke, and shiver. My headache and anxiety are gone, but my upper left palm still throbs where the raw skin has blistered from the burn, and I grimace for the searing sensation.
In an area still smoldering with light gray smoke, I spot an elevator that I never noticed before. I move toward it, realizing cardboard boxes had been stacked in front of it, and when the fire destroyed them, it revealed the elevator. I walk over the smoking cardboard ash, stop in front of the cab doors, and look for a call button; there isn't one. I examine the elevator and notice it looks like no one has used it in ages. I stare a little longer, hoping to find something, and when I don't find anything, I move to the Un-Men to recover weapons. I quicken my pace as I search their pockets twice and find no magazines. I run my hand through my hair. Dried Tainted Rain cakes it and my clothes and reeks of petroleum. The Factory's purposely leaving me without ammo, but that must mean they'll attack again.
I stretch out my senses, finding the one remaining Un-Man has moved back to the front sidewalk, so I'm safe for now. The Factory will wait on reinforcements before trying to kill me again, so I need to hurry. I check the AK-47 and find four rounds left. I go to the dust covered front window, peer outside, and notice two more vans pull in as the other two leave. The one surviving Un-Man has gone and six more have shown up; I don't have much time before they send them in. I glance around. There has to be something here I can use as a weapon. I explore the warehouse and find two screwdrivers, a lead pipe, and a metal chain. Right next to the boxing machine closest to the front door, I make a barricade with old crates, set up my little fort beside the machine's conveyer belt, and then wait. The fourth hour tolls on the clock outside, and the chimes startle me in the otherwise silent warehouse.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
My heart pounds so hard it resonates through my body and triggers the adrenal gland to produce the souped up epinephrine. I feel the Ult L-E surge as I tense, waiting for the Un-Men to enter the warehouse.
Will my bleak existence ever end or will it only stop with my death? I'm so tired of it, so freaking tired! Do they think I'm some sort of bio-mecha? Do they think I don't have a breaking point or is that it? Are they looking for the point I'll give up or make a game ending mistake?
I realize I'm doing it again; I'm letting them beat me in my mind. I can't think that way. It won't help. I need to calm down and focus on surviving. I can't let them win the battle before it has started.
End Katharine's view...
A half dozen T-5s stormed in, and in unison, they shot at her position as their ORATT reflected the burst of gunfire. She ducked behind the crates as bullets splintered boards, creating shrapnel. Kat shielded her face with her arm and stayed hidden till she heard the Un-Men's metal magazines hit the concrete floor. She stood, fired twice, and disabled two of them. She leaped over the crates, finding cover on the other side of the conveyer belt. Four T-5s moved toward her, releasing another barrage, and bullets ricocheted off the metal machine and shredded the conveyer belt. She dropped to the floor, rolled on her back, aimed, and shot two more of them. The AK-47 was out of ammo, so she placed it on the floor, opened the backpack, and retrieved the metal chain and one of the screwdrivers. She slung the backpack over her shoulder and dashed across the warehouse. The T-5s released an onslaught, and one bullet grazed her cheek and another struck the back of her vest. She fell to the floor with the impact, scampered back to her feet in agony, and scurried across the floor. Kat ducked behind a metal support beam and waited as the two remaining T-5s looked at each other and calculated their next move, and once they received their orders from the Factory, they nodded in agreement, and one of them headed out the front door while the second marched toward the support beam. The second T-5 charged around, expecting to find her, but she wasn't there. It searched for her tracking beacon and discovered she had come up behind it. The T-5 turned as she charged with the chain. Kat kicked its gun from its hand and rammed into the T-5; it was like hitting a truck, but she managed to knock it back. She twirled the metal chain over her head, swung, and wrapped it around the second T-5 and the beam. She took the long scr
ewdriver, rushed around to the back of the beam, pushed it through the links, and trapped the T-5, but it wouldn't hold for long. Kat grabbed its gun and checked the chamber and magazine; it was empty. She tossed the weapon, removed her backpack, and examined the lead pipe and the other screwdriver, then rushed back to the boxing machine in the front, and laid the bag and lead pipe beside it. She gripped the screwdriver and waited for an opportunity. Kat rubbed her sore shoulder where she rammed into the T-5 and ignored the throbbing welt on her back.
The other T-5 entered from the side door and noticed its brethren trying to squirm free from the chain. The other T-5 scanned the warehouse, finding her tracking beacon and moved toward her position. She climbed on the conveyer belt, ran across it, and leaped for the T-5. It raised its gun and fired three times; two bullets hit her in the vest and the third nicked the top of her head. She winced as she landed on top of the T-5 and quickly stabbed the screwdriver through its forehead, and the T-5 stumbled back, swinging its arms wildly. She released the screwdriver, awkwardly jumped off, and landed flat out on the concrete floor. The T-5 collapsed, its body contorted in the last moments of mechanized life, and it ceased functioning. Kat held her chest where the two bullets struck her vest. They hurt worse than the one that had hit her back, and through the agony, she sat up, crawled to its gun, reached for the weapon, and heard someone step through the front entrance and move toward her. Kat sensed only six Un-Men and panicked, thinking she had missed one.
Katharine's view...
I whirl with the Un-Man's gun, train the weapon on the figure, and press my finger against the trigger. My vision blurs as blood trickles in my eyes from the small wound on top of my head, and it forces me to pause and make sure of my aim. A white knuckle second passes before I realize the figure isn't an Un-Man. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand to make sure I'm not seeing things. It is Kimberly, and I almost killed her!
#1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness Page 15
