I open the lid, and Unfinished Melody plays. I close it and turn it over, examining every side again. Nothing... There’s nothing... I stare at the music box. Now what am I suppose to do? How am I to find your murderer? I don't even know where to start.
I whisper, “Mom, I...”
End Kimberly's view...
A hum emanated from it, two tiny squares on each end of the music box glowed blue, and the light radiated through the metal surface. Kim examined each square then placed her thumb and index finger over them. The music box vibrated, and a 3-D image of her mother's head and shoulders materialized above the lid.
The hologram spoke, “Voice identity confirmed as Kimberly Griffin. Data storage unit activated.” The hologram blinked a couple of times, and she glanced around as if awakening from a deep sleep. The hologram scanned Kim and stated, “Kimmie, if you are viewing this, I am probably dead. There are so many things I want to tell you, but now isn’t the time. I hope... no I pray, not too much time has passed. There is something you must do. You are so young, eighteen.”
“You’re two decades too late,” Kim said as she ran her hand through the image. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come across the photo.”
“Two decades have passed? It does change things,” the hologram spoke, and then paused, processing the information. “It may be too late then.”
Surprised the hologram spoke to her, she lifted the music box and asked, “You can hear me?”
“Yes, I am programmed to interact.”
A child like joy spread across Kim's face as she said, “I have so many questions, but you said too late. Too late for what?”
“First promise me you will do this thing. Do this thing for your mother.” The hologram added as an after thought, “It will be dangerous.”
She chuckled, thinking of her years as a Life Closer and glanced at the gun she’d laid on the passenger seat. “I think I can handle dangerous.”
“Then all I need to hear is that you promise, and I will tell you.”
Kim said eagerly, “I promise.”
“Theresa hates giving this task to you, but there is no one else she can trust.” The hologram looked worried as she spoke, “Theresa had made so many enemies in and out of the corporation.” The hologram raked her bangs out of her eyes. “As Project Manager of Research and Development, Theresa was privy to many projects in other departments. You may not remember, but one unspeakable one caught her attention. It involved children, and she tried to put a stop to it. Now you must take up where she failed.” The hologram's image flickered as she spoke, “I don’t know how you will find her, but there is this girl...” The hologram paused and then said, “Well, she would be a woman now. Her name is Katharine.”
A bad feeling came over Kim as she gasped and murmured, “Hades... No... It can’t be.”
The hologram continued, “You must save her from them. The only other thing I can tell you is the project name she is under.”
In disbelief, Kim put one hand to her temple and muttered, “Don’t tell me. It's Pandora.”
The hologram replied, “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Let’s say I’ve encountered her.”
A beeping alarm went off, and the hologram said, “Someone is monitoring this transmission.” She turned her head as if looking outside. “I must terminate communication.”
“Wait!” Kim exclaimed. “I have so many questions. Who killed my mom?”
“There are many possible suspects, but that isn’t important right now. You must save Katharine. Save her. She’s the Key.” The hologram stared right at Kim as she spoke, “You will not be able to activate this unit until it is safe. Find her.”
Kimberly's view...
Her image disappears, and I'm left alone with my questions.
“Key to what?! Wait!” I shout as I shake the music box. “Tell me!”
I slam my fist on the steering wheel. Why couldn’t she have told me? I lean back in my seat, staring at the ceiling. I can’t believe this! For Ares’ sake! What’s with my luck?!
I envision myself back at Etna, trying to explain my return to that woman.
“Hey Katharine, umm, sorry I shot you in the shoulder.” I force a smile and put on a chuckle as I say, “Funny thing... I... Ah... Have come back to save you.”
The awkward scene fades in my mind as I mutter, “Who’s the idiot now?”
I throw my hands up. What am I going to say? I rub my temple as I stare at the music box, open it, and Unfinished Melody plays. I am turning out to be a stalker...
I take a deep breath. I guess I’ll have to swallow my pride and go get that woman. That’s if she isn’t dead. Hades! What if she's dead? What will I do?
I quickly place the music box in my glove compartment and start the car. What kind of messed up world have I stumbled into? I’m a Closer for Ares’ sake! I make a U turn and floor the pedal, heading back to Etna Toys. When did saving people enter my job description?
Chapter Twenty-six
A New Development
6:22 P.M...
Minutes before Kim arrived in the car to take the music box away from Kat, Peters and Maxwell went over data from the latest Un-Men trial. Peters stepped from the van to the sidewalk and stretched. The two S.C.Ms. looked over as he exited; they nodded to him and went about their guard duty. Peters raked his fingers through his unkempt black hair, glanced up at the barriercumulus ever entombing the mega-city, and remembered when he was a kid over thirty years ago. If he closed his eyes he could still see it, the fiery orange ball shining on Noir. No one fathomed back then that one day the sun that gave the planet life would be blotted from the sky.
Peters removed his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes, and said, “I’ve been thinking.”
Inside the van, Maxwell turned from the table and inquired, “What’s that?”
“What if you were right? What if the T-3s and the Rogue each have a ghost in the machine?” Peters rubbed his palms together as the air grew chilly then put his hands in his lab coat pockets. “What if they are evolving and becoming self aware?”
Maxwell chuckled as he asked, “Are you kidding?” He joined Peters on the sidewalk and said, “You’ve been reading those old Science Fiction books again. You need to invest your money in better things. The Corporate Senate insist that novels will rot your brain. Why do you think they banned them in the first place?”
Peters said, “Please, don’t even get me started on the book ban. What’s wrong with stories?” The rumble of engines distracted him, so he turned, glanced behind them, and asked, “Who’s this?”
Three vans drove down the street and stopped a short distance behind the two already parked at the curb.
“What are they doing here?” Peters wondered aloud as he moved to the end of their van. “We never requested a third batch of Un-Men.” He waved over the two S.C.Ms. and ordered them, “Go talk to the driver and see why they’re here.”
The S.C.Ms. headed for the first vehicle.
“I thought we were the only team working today,” Maxwell commented as he peered at the driver’s side of the first van and only saw his own reflection in the tinted glass.
“What?” Peters asked as he reviewed his notes.
“I said I thought we were the only team working today.”
“We are,” Peters answered as he glanced at the S.C.Ms.
“I know,” Maxwell spoke as he started to go back into the van. “It was a statement, not a question.”
The first S.C.M. adjusted his assault rifle's strap that rested on his shoulder, glanced at the second S.C.M. to make sure the other soldier had his back, and tapped the driver’s window. The first S.C.M. motioned with his finger as he said, “Roll down your window.”
There was no response.
“Did you hear me?” the first S.C.M. questioned. “I said...”
The electric window hummed as it lowered, and a man with
a pale face turned his head and stared at the soldier. The driver's light blue eyes looked unreal and made him recoil a bit.
The driver greeted, “Hey there gov.”
“You aren’t supposed to be here.” The first S.C.M. pointed toward the techs and relayed, “A team is already in place.”
The driver tilted his head and questioned, “Are you sure? I’m pretty... pretty... sure we are to be here, poppet.”
“Poppet?” the first S.C.M. repeated as he removed his assault rifle. “You need to check your orders. You shouldn't be here. You've made a mistake.”
The second S.C.M. also removed his weapon, sensing the uneasiness in the other soldier.
“It is you who has made a mistake,” the driver said. “We are supposed to be here, and it is plain to see that you have–” The driver lifted a hand gun and fired three shots at the soldiers, killing the first S.C.M. “–misunderstood the reason for our arrival.”
The second S.C.M. stumbled back after a bullet nicked him in the neck. He saw that the other soldier had been killed, raised his FAMAS, and opened fire on the driver, shouting, “He’s a T-3!”
Maxwell and Peters dove to the ground, hearing the gun fire.
“Who are they shooting at?” Maxwell shouted, covering his head with his hands.
“I don’t know!”
Peters was beside him and was afraid to look up.
The T-3 got out of the vehicle, walked to the second S.C.M., shot him in the stomach, and grabbed the man by the throat. With one quick turn, it broke the S.C.M.’s neck and dropped his limp body to the road.
Maxwell heard no more gunfire, so he scrambled along the sidewalk to the back of the van and looked around the vehicle’s tire; he saw the T-3.
“I don’t believe it,” Maxwell whispered back to his partner. “The Un-Man is wearing contacts to hide its identity.” He started back and insisted, “We’ve got to get out of here.” He looked to Peters, who was frozen in fear. “Did you hear me?! Get in the van!”
Maxwell shouted as he ran to the passenger’s side, got in, tossed himself to the driver’s seat, and started up the vehicle. He threw the gear shift to D just as Peters jumped in the back through the sliding door. Maxwell floored the pedal, and the vehicle peeled off.
Eleven more T-3s unloaded from the vans and in unison, the twelve marched past the sidewalk in three lines and halted. They stared at Etna Toys as they stated, “Preparing to engage main target.”
Peters closed the side door, questioning, “What just happened?” He moved over and held on to the bolted table as computers and equipment moved across it. “A T-3 killed two of our soldiers.”
Maxwell wiped sweat from his head as he asked, “Are they pursuing?”
“No.” Peters caught one last glimpse of the area before their van turned a corner. “They’re staring at the warehouse. I think they’re going after Pandora.”
“Why?” After making the turn, Maxwell floored the pedal a second time, and the van sped off. “And how did they get out of the Factory?” He dreaded the answer as he ordered, “Peters, get up here! Radio in and see what you can find out.”
Peters got in the passenger's seat, grabbed the mic, and pressed the side button. “Factory, this is Tech One-eleven, we have a situation. Please respond.” He released the button, and static returned his request, so Peters repeated the frantic call, “Factory, this is Tech One-eleven, please respond.” He turned to Maxwell and proclaimed, “I don’t like this one bit.”
“Keep calling.” Maxwell said hopeful, “Someone will pick up.”
“Factory, this is Tech One-eleven. Please respond.”
Static...
“Factory, this is Tech One-eleven. Please respond...”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Take The Project
6:34 P.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Industrial Vicinage...
At Etna Toys...
Two blocks away from the four remaining vans and in the safety of an alley, Argus monitored the new development with the T-3s through his binoculars. He witnessed them killing the S.C.Ms. and the techs fleeing the scene then he reported in, “Patch me immediately to the Council.”
The Chamber...
A female supervisor transferred the call to an intercom in the center of the table and once she finished, she stated, “Go ahead. You're patched in.”
“Council, Argus here. A dozen T-3s arrived and took out two Factory soldiers. They're now moving on the warehouse.”
Mr. Morta said, “It would seem the Factory has lost control of their Un-Men. I wonder...”
Ms. Nona turned to him and inquired, “Wonder about what?”
“What is the T-3s' true purpose?” Mr. Morta questioned. “I have a feeling there is more to their arrival than merely taking out Pandora. Perhaps they have another agenda.”
Mr. Decuma asked, “Should we act?”
“Not yet, but make the preparations and for now, we will do what we do best. We will watch.” Mr. Morta turned to the supervisor and started, “Inform Argus...”
Gunfire came over the intercom and interrupted him.
“Two T-3s have moved on my position!” Argus shouted. “Returning fire!” More gun blast erupted along with a pain-filled grunt from him and he stated, “I’ve been hit in the leg. Retreating! I'll...”
White noise replaced his voice.
“Communication has been severed,” the supervisor reported. “I'll attempt to reestablish.” After a few seconds, she turned to them with a look of worry and informed them, “My attempt failed.”
Mr. Morta stood, turned his back on the other two members, contemplated the situation, and faced them. “I am afraid everything has changed. The T-3s do have another agenda, and we need to act. Get me the commander of our S.C.Ms.”
Inside Etna Toys...
Kat leaned against the cold concrete wall, staring at the 9 mm round Kim placed on the floor, and she pressed against the bullet wound in her shoulder as blood trickled down her left side. A fluorescent light flickered overhead as her hot breath steamed in the chilly air. Fifteen minutes had passed since the sixth hour tolled and since Kim left with the music box, and Kat felt empty and distraught without the calming Unfinished Melody, and she shivered, growing cold. Kat wasn't sure if she was cold because of the weather or from the blood loss.
lub-DUB... lub-DUB...
Everything within her screamed for her to flee, so Kat endured the pain, pushed herself up the wall, and smeared blood across its gray blocks. She slowly started for the side door when two T-3s entered and blocked her escape, so Kat turned for the front door, but it was too late. Within seconds, a dozen T-3s marched in and surrounded her like a horde of metal Golems as Kat stood there exhausted and weak, waiting for their next move. All of them stood there staring at her as if they were pleased that they had recaptured her, but they made no attempt to seize her. She glanced at the Ravlek Vest lying on the table some distance from her and knew she was defenseless without it.
The dozen T-3s moved; they slowly raised their guns and aimed at her. Their fiery crimson dot-light blinked as they communicated with each other and with those who were not present. The T-3s could think and act as one without the Factory.
The Team Leader, the one who had the blue contacts, stated, “Pandora acquired.”
Kat tensed and closed her eyes.
“Secondary objective completed,” the Team Leader said and ordered, “Disable Pandora.”
Two T-3s stepped forward, and one lifted its hand and backhanded her, knocking her across the room. Kat landed on a tarp that was covering empty boxes that were near the front door. Dust flew up and filled her lungs along with the smell of cardboard. The two T-3s separated and came at her from different directions, expecting a fight from her, and one inadvertently kicked the round that had been lying on the floor, and the bullet bounced and rolled to her. She lay there stunned and dazed, but managed the strength to apply pressu
re to her wound. The first T-3 to arrive by her side paused and noticed the blood, so it grabbed her hand, lifted it, and saw the bullet hole. It placed its finger in her wound, and she cried out.
The T-3 examined the blood on its nail, turned to the Team Leader, and spoke, “Pandora has been disabled. Should I proceed with her termination?”
“No,” the Team Leader answered. “Hold. We will take her back to the Factory. Perhaps we will learn some valuable information from her.” It walked to the elevator and ordered, “The rest of you proceed with the first objective.” It pointed and commanded, “Open those doors.”
Three of the twelve moved forward and stopped when they heard the elevator activate on its own and within a minute, the elevator came to a halt and opened. Five pairs of yellow eyes glowed within the dark cab; the unknown creatures growled before leaping on a T-3. The mechanical creatures were K-99s. They were an early model of bio-mecha that resembled Irish Wolfhounds down to the steel-gray wavy fur. The K-99s bit and clawed at the Un-Man till one of them ripped off its head. During the attack, the elevator closed and returned empty.
“Take them out!” the Team Leader ordered, aiming its weapon.
The T-3s opened fire, destroying two of the K-99s; the remaining three K-99s ran six feet from the elevator, turned, and formed a line as they faced their adversary. A compartment on their backs opened, and a small machine gun raised into position. The K-99s attacked with their weapons and filled the large room with the roar of gun blast. The T-3s returned fire, and the K-99s barrage took down three of the T-3s before they were destroyed. The warehouse fell silent as smoke from gunpowder rose in the air like a grayish-white cloud.
“Open those doors,” the Team Leader commanded.
Four of the remaining eight T-3s moved forward as a shrilling whistle emanated from a K-99, and its body glowed.
“What is it?” the Team Leader questioned, hearing the sound. It recognized the noise and commanded, “Fall back!”
The T-3s fled as the K-99 exploded, knocking all of them to the floor. The Team Leader stood and looked over the others; the four whom it sent to open the doors were damaged. Three of them were completely destroyed and lay in pieces as the fourth whose legs had been blown off pulled itself across the floor. One Un-Men who was part of the group with the Team Leader remained undamaged.