Katharine's view...
I frown at her answer. Kimberly does want something from me; first the Council, then the Factory, and now Kimberly, when will it end? When will the madness end? I turn, face the TV, and say, “I can’t help you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Kimberly questions.
I don't answer.
Kimberly's view...
I consider smacking her around until she talks but that probably won't work. I need to be a little patient. Hades! I hate this! I hate not knowing what I need that woman for. For Ares' sake! Why am I so irritated?
I'm irritated because of that woman, so I need to find out as soon as possible and then I can eliminate her from my life! I calm myself and say, “Well, get it in your head you're not getting the music box. It was meant for me.”
Katharine's view...
“Then why did I have it?” I ask as I feel crushed by my circumstances. I walk around the couch, slump down on it, grab the blanket, lie my head on the pillow, and wrap myself in the blanket, hiding from the world.
Why couldn't Kimberly have saved me because she didn't want me to die? Why couldn't she have saved me because we're friends? Why won't Kimberly give me back the music box like she promised?
Kimberly's view...
I watch her pout. She acts more like a child than this deadly experiment I keep hearing about.
More importantly... Who gave her the music box, and what will I have to do to find the truth?
* * *
Sphinx Corporation Third Branch Office...
Mr. Griffin sat at his desk, reviewing reports. He cracked his neck and rubbed it, taking a break as he complained, “I need a vacation.” The phone rang, and he answered it, “Yes, Cathy.”
“I have Orthos on line six.”
“Thank you. Please connect the Head of Security.” Mr. Griffin 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 and informed me that Ms. Griffin has brought home a house guest.”
Pleased his daughter was showing some interest in a social life, Mr. Griffin 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.”
Mr. Griffin's view...
It can't be, not that one! Not that blasted project! My brow furls as I murmur, “I told Kimberly she needed to get herself a pet, not to bring home a stray.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“Nothing. Keep me informed.”
I wonder what my daughter's up to. How did she become involved with Pandora?
End Mr. Griffin's view...
Orthos cleared his throat.
Mr. Griffin snapped from his thoughts. “Was there something else?”
“Yes, there is a problem at the Factory.”
“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.”
“What have you done so far to stop them?” Mr. Griffin asked.
“I sent a strike team into the Factory, but they were terminated,” Orthos answered. “I was about to send in a second, but thought I should inform you first.”
“Hold on that. Set up a perimeter and let none of the T-3s out, and for now we will contain, but I do want you to send out strike teams after any of the T-3s that have left the Factory's main site.”
“Yes, sir. I will keep you informed.” Orthos hung up.
Mr. Griffin's view...
I remove my earpiece. More rogues. What does it mean? Is another corporation behind this or is there a problem with their programming?
I rub my forehead as a headache sets in. And why is the Council's project staying with my daughter? Is the Council targeting my daughter for a reason? I leaned forward, pick up the phone, and dial.
My secretary answers, “Yes, Mr. Griffin.”
“Cathy, get me the Council.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Down Time
October 18...
Monday...
10:41 A.M...
Hellenistic Sector, Residential Vicinage...
Katharine's view...
Steam hangs in the air as I step from the guest bathroom shower and dry with a fluffy white towel. The bath felt good, and it's a luxury I don't have living on the streets. Because of water rationing, those from the nonproductive part of society are issued large towelettes. What one of my friends calls a bath in a bag.
I wash away the filth, but it doesn't change my glum demeanor and my head still pounds. None of the medications Kimberly gave me did anything for the migraine, and I start to feel anxious as I peer at my shaky hands. I know the side effects of the Ultra-Epi are only going to get worse, but what can I do without the music box? I slowly put on the clean clothes Kimberly bought for me. First the white underwear and sports bra and then the gray-black pants; they're almost identical to the ones I wore. I take the towel, wipe the steam covered mirror, and stand barefoot, gazing at my reflection. My face's still pale, and I feel weak. I stare at my hazel eyes, seeing the different shades of brown and green and as if it's an everyday thing to be tending a wound, I glance at the stitches in my shoulder and open the kit Brian gave me to redress it. I put fresh ointment and gauze on my blistered palm, a new bandage on my shoulder, and carefully pull on a white t-shirt. I leave the bathroom, return to the couch, and gaze at the blank TV, knowing the ever watchful eyes of the Phoenix are upon me.
“There’s some eggs and juice on the counter,” Kimberly tells me as she washes a stainless steel frying pan in the kitchen sink. “Eat. You haven’t touched anything since I brought you here from the hospital yesterday.” She watches me as I continue to stare at the black screen, and she insists, “You need to eat, so come and sit.”
Not hungry and deeply upset, I ignore her and wonder why I feel so wronged by her? I barely know her. She... Maybe it's not that. Maybe something else is bothering me.
Kimberly's view...
I feel very uncomfortable having that strange woman in my home and on top of that, she keeps ignoring me. What's her problem?
I control my anger as I grab a kitchen towel, dry my hands, and ask, “How do you expect to regain your strength if you don’t eat?”
She remains silent and that ticks me off.
“I’m tired of this silent treatment!” I yell as I throw the towel down on the counter, leave the kitchen, and march around the couch. “Get up!”
She stares at the floor as if she wants to be left alone.
I grab her right arm and force her to stand and shout, “Something has to change. Look at me!”
Showing pain and exhaustion, she lifts her gaze like a little girl who's lost, alone, and frightened.
“You need to snap out of it! I’ve seen you in action at Zeus Park and at Topa’s estate. Hades! You’re like me. You're a calculating predator.” Disgusted at her show of weakness, I command, “I need you to get that mind set back. I need you to regain that inborn or programmed reaction, and I want to see that primal drive to survive! Show me your killer instinct!”
She seems appalled by the accusation and insists, “No! I'm not like that!” She pulls against my grasp. “Let go. I’m not a killer. Let go of me!”
I won't release her and press the issue, “You are like me. You're like those Un-Men that hunt you. You're a killer.”
Katharine's view...
“No! It’s a lie! Stop saying it!”
I'm terrified Kimberly's telling the tr
uth; I fear deep down I'm a cruel monster hiding in the guise of a kind person, and I fear the monster only waits to wake and show the world its true nature. I have immense anxiety over the possibility that I've forgotten about my ruthless self, and that I'm exactly what the Council wants me to be.
Because of those dreaded insecurities, I scream all the more, “Stop saying those things! Let go! I’m not a killer! Let go!”
Kimberly's view...
“For Ares' sake! Accept it. You are.”
I increasingly push with my words. I have to get some emotional reaction from her, hoping it will end her brooding and so far, all she has been doing is screaming like a toddler who has been told she can't go out and play.
My voice raises as I tell her, “I need you to draw on that, that murderous instinct of yours.” I squeeze her arm. “Show it to me! Let it out! You know you want to, so let it out!”
Katharine's view...
“No! Shut up! I’m not a killer!” With my right arm in her grasp, I lift my left fist and strike Kimberly in the cheek, hurting myself in the process. “Crap! Crap!”
I grab my reinjured shoulder and take a step back after Kimberly releases me. Some of my stitches must have popped, and I seethe in agony for several moments until I realize what I did. I hit someone out of anger. I wanted to hurt Kimberly for reminding me of my own fears. Doesn't that make me a monster?
I shake my head and take another step back, horrified by my own violent act and start to say, “I'm... I'm...”
“Hades that hurt!” Kimberly grabs her cheek and rubs it as she asks, “Did you have to hit my face?”
Ashamed of my savage actions, I close my eyes, wanting to run away. Maybe Kimberly's right, and I feel sick at the thought. Maybe I am a killer.
I whisper, dying inside, “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes, and they burn as if I've been weeping. “I'm sorry.” Wanting to flee the possible truth, I turn, grab a jacket, and rush out of the apartment.
Kimberly's view...
“Wait! Don’t go!” I start after that woman and look down at my slippers. Great. Just great! I flip them off, and they fly through the air, and then I grab my running shoes, pull them on without untying them, race into the hall, and hear the elevator close. “Don’t go!” I rush to the elevator and watch as the numbers climb. The roof... I run to the stairs, rush up ten flights, and burst through the door, panting.
Katharine's view...
I stand at the ledge, leaning on the metal railing surrounding the top; I see Kimberly come out, turn from her, wishing she'd leave me alone, and notice below that a car drives across West 1000 Avenue and honks at a dog that runs in front of it. Still feeling ashamed, I pull the jacket close in the chilly air, babying my hurt shoulder. The cold railing feels nice against my burned hand that's wrapped in gauze. The hand hurts more since hitting Kimberly. I can't blame her if she wants to shoot me again. Why did I hit her? She was yelling at me, but she wasn't going to hurt me. Do I believe Kimberly's right? Is that it? Did I want to stop her from speaking the truth?
End Katharine's view...
Gasping for air, Kim leaned back against the door. “Why did you come up here? What if one of the Un-Men spots you?”
“They won’t come here,” Kat answered. “Your apartment has a protective barrier that bio-mechas are unable to cross. Something deep within their programming bars them from entering, so this place is a safe zone; at least, until they can get around their programming.”
“How do you know that they... Never mind. You haven’t answered my first question. Why did you come up here?”
Kat looked at Zeus Park across the street, remembering the last time she left the safety of Nexus. “Where else could I go?!” She paused and added, “I’m not a killer.” Kat wrapped her arms around herself and said in a gentler tone, “I’m not like you.” She lifted her gaze to the sky. “I think that's what the Council wants.” She turned to Kim, and Kat’s face showed determination. “And I have defied their wishes. I have worked very hard not to kill anyone, and no one has died by my hand.”
Kim questioned, “You’re joking right? I’ve seen you with the Un-Men. You’re so good at killing them.”
“Un-Men are robots. They’re not alive; they're different,” Kat insisted. “I’ve killed no one, and I’m not going to start.”
“For Ares' sake! You won’t survive in this world with that kind of attitude. You have to take the shot when you have it.”
“I can't live like that,” she said as she glanced at Kim then Kat asked, “Do you like what you do?” She turned back to the park. She didn't want to have to look at Kim, still feeling a little guilty over hitting her. “Do you enjoy murdering people?”
“What kind of question is that?” Kim walked toward her.
“An honest one. Isn't that what we're doing right now? Aren't we being honest with each other? Well then... I want to know, are you who you want to be? Are you happy?”
“Happy? Mine is a necessary job in this world. My happiness has nothing to do with it.”
“Still... You seem... You seem very sad.”
Kimberly's view...
I laugh and then say, “Right, a Closer with emotions. A good one.”
I move beside her and lean on the railing. Why does that woman resist who she is with such passion? Why shouldn’t she kill? I fold my arms. Kill or be killed, that's life.
End Kimberly's view...
“Aren’t we a pair,” Kat said as she felt the full brunt of October’s frosty wind. “I want to express emotions, but can’t. You can, but your job forces you to disregard them.”
“Hmm...” Kim ignored her comment, glancing over the ledge. “Are you here to jump?”
“I was thinking about it, but then they would win.”
“Let’s go back inside then; it’s cold out here.” She glanced down at Kat's reddening bare feet. “And neither of us is dressed for the weather.”
She followed Kim back to the elevator and once inside the apartment, they sat at the table. Kat put on a pair of socks Kim had given her.
“Here, drink this to warm yourself.” Kim handed her a cup of chicken noodle soup.
“Thank you.” She took a sip.
She noticed Kat rubbing her shoulder, and Kim said, “Take your jacket and t-shirt off.”
Caught off guard by the request, Kat looked up from her cup. “What?!”
“Hades...” Kim stood. “Don’t be such a baby. Let me look at your shoulder.”
Kat hesitated but did as told.
Kim removed her blood spotted bandage. “Look at that. You did it. You busted a stitch, but I don’t think we need to see Brian. I’ll butterfly it and put on a fresh bandage.” She retrieved a first aid kit and bandaged the wound. “There.”
Kat carefully pulled her t-shirt back on.
A few minutes passed as Kim put the kit back then she sat, drinking her soup.
“Umm...” Kat stared at the yellowish liquid and whispered, “Something’s wrong with me.”
Kim questioned, “What?”
“I...” Kat cleared her throat and spoke louder, “I haven’t been right inside since Etna Toys.”
“Yeah.” Kim chuckled. “You were shot, and now you’re having soup with the inflicter of your pain so of course you’re not the same.”
“No. More than that. I think...” She knew Kim was going to be angry. “I think I need the music box. I need to hear Unfinished Melody.”
“Nice try, but like I said...”
“I’m serious!” Kat shouted. “What if they did something to me?” She ran her fingers across the table’s edge. “No, not what if. What did they do to me? You... You don't understand! It's the only thing that works. Your pain killers have done nothing for my headache, and look at me... The way I'm acting right now. This is not the normal me. I'm not so up tight. I'm not...” Kat pleaded, “Please, let me listen to
it.”
“No! Now drop the matter!” Kim slammed her cup down, and some of the soup spilled. “All that stuff is all in your mind!”
Kat sulked.
In a calmer tone, Kim said, “You should try to get some rest.” She stood. “You haven’t slept since Brian gave you that sedative. I should know; I heard you tossing and turning on that squeaky couch all night.” She took her cup to the kitchen. “Stay here. I’m going out. I shouldn’t be long.”
Kim made her way to the parking garage and slid into her car. She opened her glove compartment, took out the music box, then placed her fingers over the squares. “Mom.”
The sides glowed blue under her touch, and the 3-D image of Theresa Griffin materialized. The hologram turned her head side to side as if looking around the car. “I detect no surveillance; it is safe to talk. Were you able to accomplish the mission?”
Nostalgic, Kim passed her hand through the image of her mother. “Yes, I have Pandora.” She raised the music box, bringing the image closer. “You mentioned she was the Key. The Key to what?”
“I am sorry, but I was never downloaded with that information. I only know she is the Key.”
“Now what?”
“This next thing is very important,” the hologram said. “If you fail to accomplish it, it could bring disaster.”
Kim bit her lip with anticipation. “What is it?”
“You must give this music box to Katharine. She must have it with her at all times. Do you understand?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, I am not. Katharine must not reach the Gamma Phase. Do you know what stage she is at?”
“Stage?” Kim questioned and said, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Has she run into any bio-mechas? Does she know when they are near?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the Alpha Phase. What about killing them?” the hologram questioned. “Can she take them down with one shot?”
“Yes.”
“This isn't good. Katharine has achieved the Beta Phase. I pray she hasn’t accomplished the Gamma.”
Agitated, she said, “Never mind Katharine. What about my mom? How do I find her killer?”
“Theresa hid data devices that were designed to be read only by this music box. If you can find them, they may have clues to whoever killed her.” The hologram said, “Now give this box to Katharine.”