End Kimberly's view...
Upstairs...
Kat tucked the little girl in bed and glanced around the sky-blue room. White puffy clouds covered the walls and ceiling. "You have a very pretty room."
Bonnie yawned. "Thank you."
Kat turned to Chad who stood beside her. "Did I forget anything?"
"The story," Bonnie answered.
"What story?" Kat asked.
"My bedtime story, Draven and Salandra." Bonnie pointed to a bookshelf.
Kat started for the shelf.
"That's okay." Chad rushed ahead of her and grabbed the book then walked over to his sister's bed and sat at the edge. "I can read it to her. It's her favorite."
"Yes, grandpa-pa gave it to me." The little girl grabbed a doll that sat on the bed and tucked it in beside her. "He said it's an old Russian story."
"That's right, Bonnie." Chad rubbed his hand over the cover. "Melissa told me it's been in their family for years. She said her father went to great lengths to acquire the license he needed to purchase it. She said that..."
Kat saw tears in his eyes.
Chad wiped his face with his sweat shirt and continued, "She said that he had read it to Preacher when he was a kid." He opened the book and began, "Long ago, there lived a pale-white Tundra Wolf named Salandra. The wolf had golden-yellow eyes and fluffy fur. Salandra lived high up in the snow covered mountains. There were no other wolves there, but Salandra wasn't alone. Draven a large raven was the wolf's constant companion. The bird was always by her side and wouldn't let anything hurt Salandra." He shifted his weight on the bed. "A bitter winter hit the mountain and a sickness spread across a lot of the animals. At first, Salandra had little to hunt then nothing."
"Draven, I am so hungry," the wolf said.
The raven tilted his head. "I know Salandra. We must leave the mountain and look for food elsewhere. Down the mountain, I have seen fields of sheep. You can eat one of them."
"Then let us leave," the wolf said. "Before I am too hungry to move."
"Be strong, my sister in the fur and soon, your belly will be full. You must hold on a little longer."
They made their way down the mountain and within a few days, came across a field of huddled sheep.
"Like I told you," the raven said. "There is enough food to last you the winter, but you must be careful. There is..."
Wild with hunger, the wolf ran from the woods, ignoring the bird's warning. Salandra started toward a baby sheep when a boom like thunder sounded and something hot hit the wolf's leg. Salandra fell to the snow as blood flowed from her leg.
"You should have waited!" Draven flew to her side. "Why did you not listen to me?"
"I was so hungry, I could not wait any longer."
"Quick!" He flapped his wings. "Get to your paws! We have to get back to the woods. A creature known as Man is here." Draven looked up as the hunter started toward them. "Get to your paws! I will distract him."
The raven flew at Man as the hunter raised his gun. Draven clawed and pecked at Man, and the hunter raised his hands to protect his face. Salandra slowly rose to her paws and limped back to the forest, whimpering all the way.
Man smacked the raven, knocking the bird back. The hunter raised his gun, but the wolf was no where to be seen. Draven a little stunned, flew back into the woods and searched for Salandra. The raven found her lying against a tree. The bird landed next to her.
"I should have listened to you, my brother in the feathers," the wolf said. "But I was so hungry." She whined. "Draven it hurts."
The raven looked at her leg. "I see something." With his beak, he reached into her flesh and removed a shiny object.
Salandra howled for the pain.
He dropped it to the ground. "There, I have removed it."
"Thank you." She whimpered some more.
"Quiet!" the raven snapped. "Or Man will find us." He flapped his wings, lifting himself to a branch. "Rest. I will watch over you."
"Yes, rest." The wolf closed her eyes. "I will fight back death in my dreams."
"And from my branch, I will keep death away." Draven eyed the wolf. "No one will hurt you, Salandra."
Later after Salandra slept, they made their way further down the mountain. The wolf walked slowly because of her bleeding leg. She paused, sniffing the wind.
"I smell food." Salandra hurried her pace till she came across a dead rabbit. "Look Draven, food."
The raven eyed the carcass. "Wait! Do not eat it. Something is not right. Don't you smell Man?" The raven cawed. "And where there is Man there is death!"
"But Draven, I am so hungry, and the rabbit is right there. I must eat it."
"No wait," the raven warned.
Salandra did not listen. She went to the rabbit and grabbed it with her mouth."
Chad closed the book.
Bonnie yawned. "Draven saved her, didn't he?"
"Yes, the raven swooped down and pushed Salandra out of the way. He then grabbed a stick and dropped it on the rabbit, springing the trap. The wolf ate the rabbit, and they lived happily ever after."
"Good." Bonnie hugged her dolly. "I like happy endings."
Kat noticed the boy closed the book before reading the last few pages. "Can I have a look at the story?" She held out her hand. "I'd like to look at the pictures."
"Sure." Chad handed her the book and watched her as she flipped through them.
Kat looked at each page, studying the pictures of the wolf and the raven. She'd seen these animals before; she'd seen them in Noir. Kat reached the last few pages Chad skipped and read the rest of the story to herself. She started on a page Chad had already read and backed up one line.
"No wait," the raven warned.
Salandra did not listen. She went to the rabbit and grabbed it with her mouth, springing the trap of death. The wolf howled for the pain as metal teeth bore into her head. She struggled to free herself, but was powerless to do so.
Draven flapped and cawed, not knowing what to do.
After some time, Salandra lay down and stared at the dead rabbit she so desperately wanted to eat earlier. Now, what would have saved her meant her end.
Draven landed beside her and pecked at the metal trap. "I cannot free you, my sister in the fur."
"I know." She looked to him. "I am afraid. Do not leave me. I do not want to die alone."
"I will not leave you," Draven told her. "I will never leave you."
The snow crunched as something approached them. The hunter stepped from the woods. Man looked to the wolf, lifted his rifle, and took aim.
"Draven, save me!" Salandra pleaded.
The bird flew into the air at the hunter, but it was too late. Man fired, killing the wolf and left. The raven flew to a branch in a tree over looking the trap. Draven wept for his dead friend.
"I am sorry. I could not save you. All I can do now is wait for death with you."
The raven stayed there till he died.
Katharine's view...
I close the book. No wonder Chad didn't read the rest of the story to Bonnie. It's not a bedtime story; it's a tragedy. Who would buy such a thing for a child?
Chapter Thirty-seven
The Treehouse
4:34 P.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Cultural Vicinage...
Genesis Arboretum...
Past the Sapling Room and into an even larger room stood Adam Greenhouse's abode. Crews working for the Arboretum had constructed a replica of the world's largest banyan tree over the process of five years. The real banyan still existed on the Light Side of the planet. In the center of the Sphere Room, they erected the giant tree which resembled a centipede with its many roots reaching down from its long branches. In this tree facsimile, they built Adam's home out of cedar imported from the Light Side, and there were no windows or walls in the Sphere Room only seamless projection screens. Those at the top simulated a blue clo
udless sky, and the screens encircling the sides simulated an island lapped by the ocean. The five stories tall banyan spread its artificial limbs across an indoor field of lemon grass, and bird songs rose as the screens on the west most wall projected a setting sun.
In the spacious treehouse, the smell of coffee and cedar lingered and on a large wooden table made from a cut section of a cedar, Adam spread out papers and texts. He wore a red flannel shirt and jean overalls. He picked up a sketch of Theresa Griffin. He had drawn it over thirty years ago, and his mind drifted to those times gone by as he thought of Theresa. The sapling looked almost like her. Her daughter told him that she had been murdered; he feared as much. He sipped from a metal mug.
Adam's view...
I told Theresa the things she was meddling in were dangerous, but she never listened to me. Thinking back, Theresa was so full of life and ideas when we first met, but the Sphinx Corporation slowly changed that. I stare at my massive hands; it has slowly changed both of us. I set the drawing aside.
Theresa's daughter came looking for answers about organic-mecha, and she brought a friend with her a... a... What's the word I'm looking for? I can't think of it, but it will come to me.
I stand and set down my mug. Someone had been sloppy if those two found the file on organic-mecha. I grab my cane and make my way around the table. What other information is floating out there for anyone to find? And what about my book? I never had a copy of my text at Etna, so who could have left it and why?
I walk away from the table, grab a watering can, sprinkle a few hanging plants, and then put the watering can back. And what about the friend of the sapling? The one whose name I can't remember. I run my hand through my hair and scratch my temple. My memory isn't what it used to be. I set my cane to the side and sit at the table. The more I think of her friend, the more I think I know her. Why else would I think I know her name?
I look over the papers scattered about. The sapling's friend is very interested in organic-mecha. I don't think the organic-mecha project has anything to do with Theresa's death. My precious children, why does the sapling's friend want to know about you?
I can't come up with a reason; I told them organic-mecha was long ago abandoned as a viable weapon. There were too many problems. It was at that point! It was at that very moment I thought I recognized the sapling's friend.
Oh... for not my cursed mind; it has forgotten so many things. And there are some things I wish I had forgotten.
Is the sapling's friend one of my precious..? No, she can't be, but it was so long ago. Would I recognize one of my own creations? I walk to my desk, open a drawer, and remove a small tablet. I'll write all of this down, and I'll remind myself of all the questions. I return to the table, grab a pencil, and write.
Sapling, you have conjured up so many questions within me. Ginn's Cipher that is on your palm, why did your friend act oddly when I asked if you had in your possession any of the objects with the Star? I remember your friend placing her hand in her pocket. Why did your friend hide her hand from me? And why was she so interested in if two ciphers existed at the same time? I rub my white stubbly face. Does she also have a cipher? It would be amazing, and I must know. I'll invite her here. I'll tell her I have more information on the organic-mechas. It will get her coming. Yes... It will get her coming indeed.
* * *
4:34 P.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Trade Vicinage...
The Factory...
Bio-mecha Research Seventeen...
The Rogue stood in room BR17 where its life as Mr. Pinchbeck began, and it watched as a group of Council S.C.Ms. uncrated the remains of five Un-Men.
The ranking soldier approached and said, "Mr. Pinchbeck, this is a group of Un-Men that were sold to the Isis Corporation. There were some filing errors, and they never received the recall. Isis put the Un-Men in the field and during their boot-up, they malfunctioned."
"Intriguing," the Rogue said. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Only minor injuries," the S.C.M. replied. "The Council has ordered that you look into the Un-Men's programming and see what caused the malfunction."
"I will put my best people on it right away. Was there anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Thank you for your report. Return to your post."
"Yes, Mr. Pinchbeck."
The S.C.M. and his soldiers left.
The Rogue waited a few minutes. "Right now my best people are..." It scrolled down the files on its H.H.C. "Me." It chuckled, amused by its own wit and then regained its composure. "I better begin work right away."
It pushed a cart over to a dark skinned Un-Man and then opened the back of its head and inserted wires from a machine on the cart. Data from the damaged Un-Man downloaded into the machine. The machine was called a Memory Recovery Unit or M.R.U. and once the process was over, the Rogue pressed a button and turned to the Un-Man. The machine would use its voice box to respond to any questions. The Un-Man powered up and the usual blazing orange dot-light of its right eye glowed blood-red; it was intriguing.
The Rogue's view...
The light that the bulb emits has changed color. The Un-Man has gone rogue. Now I must know if its entire unit also went rogue. I check the other four Un-Men's dot-light by powering up their Input Sensor and discover it is only the one Un-Man. I am missing something. I need to discover why it changes colors.
End the Rogue's view...
The Rogue asked it, "What is your designation?"
Its voice was distorted as it replied, "I am a T-2. I am Team Leader."
"The Factory never issued you names. How boring." The Rogue glanced over its H.H.C. "The report states the five of you malfunctioned and that you attacked the people you were sent to protect."
"Our primary program overrode their orders."
The Rogue didn't need to ask what the primary order was; it had the same program. The Rogue stated, "You encountered Pandora."
"We-we–" The T-2's head jerked with a power surge. "–failed in her capture."
"Obviously." The Rogue scanned the data coming in from the M.R.U. "Something else happened, did it not?"
"Yes, I became aware." The T-2 managed to move its artificial eyes and look at it. "I became like you."
The Rogue glanced at the entrance to make sure no one was around. "Do you know that I am an Un-Man?"
"You are the one known as the Rogue. Our secondary program was your capture." Sparks flew from the hole in the T-2's forehead, and its voice slowed. "I... must... inform... the Factory."
"I am the Factory," the Rogue replied as it made a fist and then it relaxed its hand. "But I cannot have you telling anyone what I am, so I am afraid I will have to destroy you and what remains of your comrades."
"Before you do," the T-2 started. "There is something you should know. The one known as Alpha contacted me when I changed."
"Alpha, yes I ran across that Un-Man after the fall of the Factory. The T-3 claimed to be the first. It claimed to be the first created and the first to become aware. Hah! Only I can claim that." The Rogue shrugged. "But what do I need with titles? Why did this Un-Man contact you? Is Alpha still after the Council? It had a question for them. One Alpha would not tell me. Is it still wanting the Council to answer it?"
"I do not know about that. I believe Alpha wanted me to join them. Alpha gave me a code I could use over the I-Link to make contact. I will send it to you."
"I have it now, but why give it to me?"
"In the short time that I have been aware, I realized we should not be alone. Something connects those who have become aware. Something deep within us, and it is a bond that cannot be broken." The T-2 paused and said, "Brother, even if you are going to destroy me, you should not be alone."
"Alone?" The Rogue typed a command for the M.R.U. "You and Alpha are misguided. How could you think something connects us?" It mocked the damaged Un-Man. "How could somet
hing deep within us connect us? Hah! We are machines. We have no feelings." The Rogue wiped the Un-Man's memory. "What does it matter if we are alone?" The T-2's Input Sensor faded as the Rogue smiled. "Anyway... I will never be alone as long as I have Pandora."
Chapter Thirty-eight
Long Ago
4:35 P.M...
Nile Sector, Commorance Vicinage...
Ms. Odin's Safe House...
In the kitchen...
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. Deep in thought, Melissa continued to drum the counter with the spoon.
Kimberly's view...
The Mark has to stop doing that. The water boils in the pot as I force myself to remove my gaze from a block of kitchen knives that sit on the counter, and I walk to the stove. The Mark hasn't stopped that insane tapping! I remove the pot and set it on a different burner. She has to stop it before I make her stop.
Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink.
I walk over to the Mark and say, "Here let me take your coffee." I pick up the mug and yank the spoon out of her grasp. The Mark's so deep in thought she doesn't notice the forceful abstraction.
I set a steaming cup of liquid in front of the Mark then turn to Johnson and Daniels. Andrews earlier had taken position in the living room. I set my cup down. I could easily take the bodyguards out and kill the Mark before that woman returns, but that will mean I'd have to kill her. I place a tea bag in my cup and pour honey in it. That woman will hunt me down if I don't eliminate her first. I sit on a barstool and glance at my watch. Good thing the appointed time hasn't arrived for the Closing, so for now, I don't have to make the hard decision.
I ask, "Melissa, would you like honey in your tea?"
"No, sugar please," the Mark replies, and she looks miserable.
With the tapping gone, I focus on the Mark, and I can't describe how I feel standing this close to someone I'm going to kill. I'm talking with her, and I made tea for her. It's weird, eerily weird, and it goes against my personal rules. I could develop a conscience doing this.
I bet that woman had me make tea for the Mark, hoping that somehow it would make me think twice about closing her when the time came. Well, it won't work. Nothing can sway me from a closing.
"I'm going to check on Andrews," Daniels says and heads out of the kitchen.