No Code

Fallon had been walking around for days. He had chosen a number of footprints to follow. The heel appeared to be deeper in the sand than others. Pattern recognition was his specialty. Stopping at one point he ran his finger through the sand. Fallon pulled his long hair back out of his eye and looked around. He was close.

He grabbed a hold of program 321. It rested lightly in his hand, felt like a peashooter compared to the Striker .45 he carried back on the force. The Kink had been in this area of the net way too long. It had turned the sands of Death Valley hyper pink. The cacti were robin blue. They moved as if they were maples swaying in a breeze.

"Funny they should send you." A voice hissed from behind a random hedge.

"I don't recall knowing you." Fallon said as he looked into the sun.

"Well you don't, but I wouldn't be crazy if I didn't make these comments?" the voice continued.

From the ground a huge construct dug its way out showering Fallon with pink sand. The construct was a walking Salvador Dalí, looking like someone had pieced together a thousand clocks and melted them with a welding torch. Fallon didn't blink, program 321 was already working its magic automatically targeting the creature's sources and clearing the memory blocks. The program triggered a storage device back in L.A. to begin burning a large block of memory. A bug that was unearthed by the creature winked out of existence.

"You don't play fair." The hiss continued. The creature locked its glowing red eyes on Fallon. Clock arms began to fire out of spots on its chest. Before they hit their mark Fallon's image winked out of existence and reappeared behind the construct.

"What was that?" Fallon quipped as he focused on the construct.

The sky went from pink, to blue to black. No night sky just emptiness.

The creature didn't turn, its head slowly emerged out the other end of its body.

"Well if you're simply going to shift like that. I guess I have to tether you here." The hiss chuckled.

Fallon's eyes widened slightly. A cage emerged from the sand. There was a blue shimmer on the edge of it.

Cut off from the net a timer had started. If he were unsuccessful the storage disc they were on would be neutralized.

"Why do the drama queens always take so long to purge." He hissed back at the construct. An armor encased him, he had hoped not to get to this point but if he must. He ran at the construct, which had brought its arms down to catch him. He shifted himself in the drive before the construct could place a hit. Fallon found the construct moving through the drive wildly. His fists exploded with the color of a thousand suns. He drove for the cage program. He hit hard and fast sometimes following the construct other times randomly loading into another section of the drive and fighting his way back.

The construct was well built. It had some very new armorsoft. Then came the shimmer in the shields. Fallon struck again and they flickered out. He pulled an almost invisible string out of a pouch and threw it at the cage. It sped out into the distance.

"Nice try." The construct said as the backup program came alive the shimmer returned.

"Here's one you haven't seen before." Fallon said as he pulled something out of his bag of tricks. It looked like a goblet. He sat down and crossed his legs. The construct paused.

"To eternity" Fallon said as he sipped quickly, then the world slowed. Before him the construct turned its head slowly, not fully understanding the sacrifice Fallon had made, as he had so many times. If the tracer had done its work Fallon would be awoken again in the net. That is after his chunk of existence was pulled from the burned storage disc in L.A.

Blood came pouring out of Charlie's mouth. The steering wheel had pinned him to his seat. His 63 Lusso was scattered in pieces around the surrounding beach. Bright sun poured into his eyes forcing them back open. His car was crumpled into the side of a rock outcropping. His head rolled around and his eyes teetered back and forth between his mauled arms.

"That's enough." A concerned voice interjected. Lady Rossa covered her eyes and looked away from the monitor. Her blond hair seemed to shimmer as she moved.

"He doesn't have to have this experience." The Rep said as he turned off the screen. He leaned back in his deep leather chair. "He doesn't have to have any memory you don't want him to have." He continued as he turned on his sincere voice.

"I don't want to take things away from him." She said as her luscious lips pouted. They brought the Rep's eyes up from her legs. Normally he was on top of his game but Lady Rossa was a true specimen. Her beauty would follow her into the frame. The rep turned on his cortex bypass and he could feel the desire fade out of him. His eyes found hers. "We aren't taking away from his life, he gains nothing from this experience. Where he's going this can't happen, there's no life lesson." The Rep rolled on,

"It makes it easier on the subject for them to come in from their last dark memory, say right before he went to sleep the night before." The rep turned on the emotion packet and his body began to respond to his words.

"I Love Charlie and I know what he would want. We aren't taking any memories from him." She said as she crossed her arms.

"Your wishes, ma'am." The Rep said turning his chair towards the screen. "Now onto the question of what frame do you want him in?" he said turning the screen back on. "I'm, sorry frame." She said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes do you want him to be in the Visual Frame or the Collaborate Frame? The Collaborate frame requires some social upgrades you see and…"

"I don't understand,"

"Well your husband wasn't in the integration program when he died, so the transition from breathing to digital life might be a little difficult. The Visual Frame is an area where people can live as if they were integrating." He said

"Yes we will integrate together." She said with a smile.

The rep paused and turned back to her.

"You mean you want to be integrated here and wait for the calling?" He said

"No, I want to awake in the Visual Frame with him, to begin our life anew." Her gaze had glossed over and her hand dropped down touching the wooden table for a second. Her finger instinctively traced the grain in it.

The rep smiled, his profits had just doubled.

Martin pulled his pea coat tight against his body. His hair was wavy and frayed, as unkempt as the clothes that he wore. They were good to have given the Pacific winds were picking up. He could taste the salt of the ocean in the wind. Martin turned his back to the trade wind and looked east down the mountain. In the distance he could see the monoliths standing like sentries. Long past relics, the Moai, stood lonely every night waiting for the sun.

Before Martin the clouds began to swirl. Above the cresting blue waves the light cumulus spiraled together. Slowly at first then quicker as the wind picked up. Rain came down all around him. The sky began to turn the vibrant hue of sunset though the sun was standing high in the sky. Martin wasn't one for theatrics, they took precious compute.

A beam of light split one of the larger clouds open. From the inside a dark figure floated down towards the hill Martin was on. Wings made of clouds flapped slowly behind the figure slowing its descent.

"Martin?" The wind seemed to whisper.

Martin nodded and looked around as if someone might be lurking in the grass nearby.

"Welcome to my home." The wind continued.

"Thank you King, I'm glad I could meet you in person." Martin said, his eyes flickering for a moment.

"I'm glad you had the chance to come. It's a beautiful day on the isle of forgotten figures." The avatar landed beside Martin. King's avatar appeared taller than Martin. The avatar had long flowing blonde hair, that danced in the wind, and was clothed like a Greek god.

"So the deal stands?" Martin said pulling out a cigarette. He put it in his mouth and rolled it around wondering if it would light in the wind. The avatar brought its hand up. A spark leaped out of the tip of its finger and the cigarette lit.

"Codes for Processing Power. Who gains more for giving up less?" the wind snickered.

"Hopefully me," Martin cracked as he laughed.

The avatar's expression brightened and the clouds began to return to their original formation.

"You know what their problem is?" The wind whispered.

The sky began to accelerate in time, clouds flying in and out of view with the sun and moon spinning over and over the island.

"They pissed off the wrong people?" Martin said as he took another pull off his cigarette.

"That, and they don't dream." The wind sighed. It looked into the distance and for a moment the clouds hung still.

"How can they?" Martin sighed.

They both stood there for a moment watching the moon and sun dance across the sky while the grass on the island shimmered and bowed to the two sky titans.

The avatar took a gold key out from under its tunic. With a flicker it split in two. The avatar held it out to Martin. Martin relaxed his balled hand from inside of his jacket and slowly reached out, delicately plucking the key from the avatar's hand.

"I will see you soon." Martin said.

"In here it's an eternity." King said and the avatar's face went blank again.

Martin saved his avatar and pulled the plug. His eyes popped open to a school of fish floating by a porthole. As he moved the screen saver turned off. The taste of nicotine was still lingering in his mouth.

Wind swept around the grounds of O'Mailey's residence. Plants seemed to reach out to the house as the air tried to drag them from the ground. A few lights were on in the house. Two solid steady lights in the servants' quarters below and a wild flickering light from a fireplace on the second story.

Wrapped in layers of clothing with a blanket across his lap O'Mailey sat in front of a blazing fire. Once Pagetic disease had set in the only thing that really eased the pain in his bones was this ritual in front of the fireplace. Heat pads, medications, nothing seemed to caress his body like the element of raw fire. Maybe it was the nostalgia of those nights in the forest as a youth or just the flood of sensation from the heat of the fire. Whatever it was it worked and his daughter feared he would catch fire from it.

Behind him a shadow stalked slowly through his reading room. With nothing more than walls of books and some lounge furniture the shadow had very little to work with, but it survived growing ever so slowly behind him.

"All men dream: but not equally, Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible. This I did." O'Mailey said as he turned towards the shadow.

"Why fear an old man dark one?" he said after a pause.

The shadow pulled out a canister and sprayed an aerosol into O'Mailey's face. He began to breathe erratically. The cardiac arrest would hit him hard. Before his body had gone cold his only daughter would unknowingly bring his memory to the very ones who killed him.

A thousand li, he had marched. Jin was not a lost soul. He knew of no refugee in a cyber zion. To cut away the memories of death and destruction would be to cut away Jin. Silence, stealth, fear, they were more than tools they were his substance. His dark hair was straight and would only move with the motion of his head. Jin's military fatigues looked of that of a teen slasher with a number of pockets and zippers. Pulled tight over his nano weave muscle the suit would shift slightly to match his environment. Right now it was having problems matching the rainbow lighting in the club.

Sitting on the balcony Jin could make out his target in swaying crowd. The young slasher was waving his hands around frantically. Jin assumed it was dancing but it looked more like the kid was being tasered.

"Another?" The waitress shouted over the music as she swooped in. She cracked a bottled smile open and poured him one.

"Please," He called back, turning his head slightly. "Who is the dj?" Jin asked as he pointed at the mixing booth behind his target.

"One and All, do you like his mix?" she brightened.

"No." Jin said flatly as he looked away.

The waitress pulled back a little.

Jin smiled and turned back to her, "I love it!" he exclaimed.

In the background Greg was still shaking like a coke addict having a seizure. His tongue was dry and he needed a drink. The beat stopped and he popped into his half drug strut. His legs shot out like he was swaggering in a western. Beelining to the bar he cut some poor bastard off.

"Hey fuc..."

"Yeah yeah." Greg waved his hand over his back.

"I'll take a sixer!" he screamed down the bar.

The bartender dropped what he was doing and came over.

"Who's the replicant?" the barkeep asked nodding up to the balcony. Greg turned to look. There was some Asian guy sitting in a booth looking like the only sober fucker in the establishment.

"I have no clue, who's he with?" Greg said as his head spun back around.

"Your guess is as good as mine." The barkeep said. "but he's been eyeing you all night man."

Greg's eyes widened a bit and he licked his lips. "Well I don't know why he's interested in me." Greg said as he made off for the bathroom.

Looking back Greg found the once replicant occupied table was now vacant.

He saw a big bad bouncer up ahead. "Hey man there's a guy out here groping people. He just groped me and I think he's on some meth concoction." Greg said to the bouncer with a molested look on his face.

"He looks like, oh shit." Greg said and ducked behind the bouncer.

Jin saw the Enforcer in the tight black shirt from across the room. Jin didn't make eye contact with him. He relaxed his body and walked towards the bathroom.

Jin could see the Enforcers chin move out of the corner of his eye. Using his subsonic mic to call in friends.

"Time to Clear Out buddy!" The black shirt yelled over the music as Jin approached. There was a group of them with saddled tasers and batons.

"Whatt?" Jin asked as he pulled on his drink.

The Enforcer repeated himself.

"WHY?" Jin yelled out over the music. A few of the bouncers came up on his back. The bouncer in front of him shifted his weight, he was right handed. The Enforcer stood a good foot taller than him.

"Sir, I don't want to ask again." The bouncer's voice betrayed his insincerity.

"If it will ease the tension, I want no trouble. I simply want to talk to him." Jin said as he tried to look non aggressive. The Enforcer went for his stick. His reaction time was slow but Jin let him play his motions out. The Enforcer brought it up to hit Jin in the head. Pieces of the stick sprayed into the club as the night stick shattered on Jin's reinforced metal arm.

"Shit" Greg yelped and turned and ran.

Jin kicked the Enforcer in the kneecap, a loud pop permeated in the air before the black shirt dropped to the ground.

Before the bouncer hit the ground Jin was already off after Greg.

Greg smashed through the exit door by the bathrooms. A group of smokers scattered like frightened pigeons when he flew out into the night.

His legs were amphetamine-driven pistons. Churning up cement they threw him into motion before he could catch his bearings. The city street lights seemed to fly into sight as his legs ate up all the road fed to it.

With his mind disconnected from his body he found his head glancing back to the exit. In the alley he had just emptied was the distinct silhouette of his pursuer.

Before he had time to react his legs had brought him into the alleyway across the way. A large fence with barbed wire loomed in front of him. By the time the sound of his shoes splashing in a puddle hit his ears his body was on its way to meet the fence vertically.

He grabbed a hold of the fence and risked another look back. The figure behind him was strolling across the street. Strolling Greg's mind screamed at him. He was free!

As he turned to continue his ascent of the fence a force rattled it fiercely.

"Where you going?" A low voice punctured the loud throbbing in Greg's ears.

Greg's hold on the fence slipped and as his torso rolled back. His shoelaces caught in the fence. Right before his head hit the ground Greg made out the figure on the other side of the fence. He was a skinny man with frazzled brown hair and yellow eyes encrusted in a melodramatic face.

Blue eyes turned bright red, then back to blue. Blue eyes turned dark red, then blue. Blue eyes turned dark red, then small bubbles appeared behind the iris as if the blood filled eyes were boiling.

Fallon smiled, he was on watch and as so many other times he had been on watch during dead zones he browsed glamoursoft. Flare for your digital projection. While his own confections were some of his favorite the others that he pulled from the freeware server were stimulating.

There was a faint howl in the background, a strange occurrence in the fact that it spammed all the public communication channels.

Fallon cocked his head instinctively while he traced the source. His red eyes panned up to the rooftop. In a flash he found himself hunched over the edge of a rooftop like a crusader of comics old.

The howl was a bouncer. A chat command sent out by a lot of worm code that awaited a signal.

Fallon pulled out a small pigeon. It separated into four smaller pigeons. Fallon threw them into the air. They hovered for but a moment before the next howl rolled through the chat channels. In a blink they were gone. Each one began tracing the separate channels, ambient chat, nature, rural and forum. They fluttered along pausing in between howls.

Was this a kink or was this some trace's mischief. The pigeon would find the source.

Swallowing the worm code the pigeons dissected the programs of each. With another howl, they took in the command lines acted as the worm and then they were off to the source.

The howl sounded closer. Fallon began flipping between bird's eye shots of the district. The code for the worms came up as a recasting. A copy of prior code tweaked to bypass the filters set up to stop the original code.

Again the howl was closer and suddenly the pigeons live stream stopped reporting. Fallon pulled out Program 322. He felt the presence of the Kink. It was closer than he had hoped

The air around Fallon felt like it was crackling with energy. A beam of light cast down from the sky upon Fallon's face. Fallon's expression changed to puzzlement as he looked at the full moon hovering between dark clouds above.

The proximity trigger went off on his defense grid and he shot off the edge of the roof. Right as his last foot was airborne a small boulder slammed into his shadow on the building. With a thunder it tore into the apartment below.

High atop a neighboring building illuminated by the moon stood a monolith of a creature. Covered in what appeared to be twisting wisps of pure darkness was a humanoid with a wolf's head. Its eyes were radiant phosphorescent white rubies that disappeared as the moon was covered by the clouds.

The sound of thunder roared into life as Program 322 took action. Bursts of clear space flew from the gun's barrel into the wolf creature and back into the sky behind consuming all the programming in its path. The air around the shots seemed to taper off into the black nothingness left in its wake.

With a strange archaic howl the creature took the wounds. Fallon thought he had dispatched it but after a blink the creature began to pull itself free from the clear space path left by program 322. As Fallon pulled his finger again the creature weaved and ducked to avoid the coming clear space. It pulled back from its visible roof top position.

Fallon cursed the dark one and flew higher to gain a vantage point. Two Killers in one week he thought, normally the filters were so strong that you wouldn't see two in a year. Most Kinks that were put in the system were common annoyances from one trace to another. A small group of flies that would follow you around in Free space. A mime that would, well just a mime in general. Normally they were kinks in the way of life, instead of knots on a noose.

A howl arose from the darkness below and Fallon perked up. A kink this far into a residential server was a problem. The shots of Clear Space work well when you aim for the sky. Placed into one of these buildings, he would be hearing about it longer than it would take to fix. That is if they could fix the damage.

The howl didn't move. It was a lone signal coming from the park a block away.

Flying under the cloud cover Fallon looked down upon the trees and pathways of the park. Pure darkness, the Kink knew stealth. Up in the air Fallon had the advantage, limited data for his systems to scan. He waited, hoping to bait the creature out into the sky. Nothing.

Then the howl followed with a scream. As the clouds parted for the moon again a beam seemed to shoot down upon the dark one below. The creature stood with arms to the sky and white eyes burning with the worst of intentions. Behind him bound to the ground was a woman.

Why is it targeting me, Fallon thought. It wants to get me close. The dark one looked directly at Fallon and took a menacing step back as it turned slightly. It pulled its enormous hand down around the woman's throat. Then the park turned pitch black as cloud cover returned. A scream curdled the air.

Shooting down from the heavens Fallon tried to turn the weather program off. He received an access denied response every time. Fallon took a deep breath as he plunged into the darkness.

Within his sensors all went off at once. He found himself standing in front of the dark creature. Its darkness flickered upward in a controlled chaos like grains of black sand pulling free from the ground by a wind. A grin appeared on the creature's face.

Something was very wrong. He felt it before his program popped an alert. The creature was not actually there. The creature was composed of clear space. It was a reverse embossment of a creature. Every arm, leg and tendril was nothingness. Gaping at Fallon was the jaw of void.

His mind raced as he tried to retract. There was nothing he could do against emptiness. He was a dispatcher, a clearer himself. He hesitated and in that moment the dark one expanded into a dark spherical shell around him. In an instant the world was black again. His mind raced, did he see a flicker of programming behind the nothingness. That was it. A program which copied, destroyed and created. Very rapidly at a speed which only an Ed

Red eyes turned bright blue, then back to red. Red eyes turned dark blue, then red. Red eyes turned dark blue, then small bubbles appeared behind the iris as if the blood filled eyes were boiling.

Fallon smiled, he was on watch and as so many other times he had been on watch during dead zones he browsed glamoursoft.

Charlie had been gone for days. He came back one night and tried to drink himself under the table. He had started with the finest wine and worked his way to the sailor's port they used to make sangria from. His hair had been unkempt and stuck to the side of his head instead of flowing like it normally did. Lady Rossa was at wit's end.

Tonight she lay awake in her bed. The heat was sweltering, but she didn't want to close the doors that looked out over the bay. The moon had barely crested the water and there was a pulsing of blue light on the wall as waves reflected the moon's rays.

"Why Charlie, why can't you return." She wept softly.

A crack from the hallway brought her puffy eyes down from the ceiling.

"Charlie?" she questioned the night.

There was no response, she hadn't heard one of his new sports cars deep rumble home. He must not have come in, then again in this new world he could have flown in, or even appeared. As she turned her gaze to the water outside there was another crack.

With her mouth open in worry she pulled towards the end of the bed. She put her hand into the drawer on the stand next to her. She pulled out a rather small pistol that sparkled in silver. Her fingers covered the version of the program printed on the handle.

"Hello?" She called out slowly, her finger trembled towards the trigger.

There were some steps echoing in the hallway towards the bathroom.

"Lights" she cried out and all the lights came on in the house. They flickered for a moment and went back out. She wondered if the power had gone out, then looked at her clock, the light was staring back at her in little red digital dots. The minute dot winked at her.

This was creeping her out too much.

"Rover!" she called and a little dog popped up next to her.

"yes master?" the dog asked as it rolled over playfully on her bed.

"What the hell is turning the lights off?" she asked as she mentally flipped them back on.

In a moment they flipped back out and the dog furrowed its brow.

"searching, searching" it replied steadily to imply work.

"Located" it yapped as it sat on its hindquarters. Suddenly the lights went off in the house and a shadow loomed over her.

"AHHHH" screaming she pulled the trigger on her gun and hit rover squarely in the face. The dogs body slumped a bit mechanically then froze in place.

"Honeey." A slurred voice droned monotonously. "I knew tha dog ahs replacipal but wat if you got me?" Charlie postulated as he took a drink from his low baler.

"Jesus Christ Charles! I wouldn't be shooting into the dark if I knew it was you making a racket!" Mrs. Rossa replied coldly.

Charlie was visibly drunk, sweat was pouring out of his body and he held himself like a forgotten marionette.

"Whos it going too bee?" He replied as he rolled into bed.

"Well the chat lines have been crawling with all sorts of tales, Dark monsters and new viruses." Rossa responded. "My understanding is that there has been a breach in security after the U.S. CERT team was given access to the database. Now there are all sorts of." Rossa stopped as she could tell her husband had passed out already. The smell of whiskey permeated the room. Her vision glitched a bit, as she looked into the mirror. A woman with brown hair stared back, her mirror image raised her hand to her face. Somehow he found something worse. Tomorrow she would have to go talk to someone at the Office. Some editing needed to be done. Laying back in bed her trembling hand paused for a moment above him, it took her a long breath, but she felt comfortable for the first time all night. Rossa placed a hand on Charlie's back and soon joined her husband in slumber.

It wasn't a long hike into the woods. Somewhat disappointing to Martin. The meeting of the individualists had to take place in rather remote areas. Places where satellites couldn't linger and listening devices would lose power rapidly. The national park hills was one of the last remaining areas where the group could get together. Coming from a number of states and nations the group had to make the trip appear random. The Feds had a number of flag systems in place to track irrational behavior. Personalities, hobbies, work, a number of underlying factors were weighed on each individual that walked through an airport. It required a tremendous effort to keep up with or stay off of.

Martin didn't like running dark. He was a programmer, he didn't feel like he was alive until he was immersed in the net. Being out here with limited reception and no devices was frustrating. His pack contained the bare essentials, some MREs a TAR-22 assault rifle. He bought an older model, minimal upkeep with a minimal electronic signature. The bag also contained a few different colored camo tops. While walking under a thick patch of forest or at night he would change his top.

The destination of the meeting changed every year. A special cypher was given out and the instructions to the next event were placed in an RFID of a different product every year . Martin didn't know who began the group but he could tell the person was well organized.

Martin had been following a stream for some time when he came across the last tube cyber. He spotted it a ways off and casually approached it. After it was apparent that there was no one around he walked over and picked it up. He pulled the paper out of the small metal tube. There were a number of characters on the tube. He then folded the edge of the paper so he could wrap it around the tube. Only when set like this would the letters be in the proper order to decrypt. The message said the next post was in a cave to south.

Martin ripped the paper up and threw it in the stream. He used to think the precautions were overkill until about two years ago. Not all the members had shown up and later a number of them were found at the bottom of a ravine.

Coming up on his destination Martin found some brush. He took his bag off and covered it with some leaves. He loosened the strap that his rifle was on and grasped the handle. Martin crept towards the final destination. He could feel his heart pounding and his hand throbbed slightly.

Martin made his way to the cave entrance. He ended up coming up over the back of the entrance. Staring down into the cave he thought he saw some movement. He stalked down to the cave entrance.

"why so paranoid?" came a firm voice came from behind.

Martin jumped, he felt his finger squeeze the trigger on his gun. The person whose voice had cut the silence walked up beside Martin.

"Calm down Martin." The Voice continued, Martin could finally see the figure that had caught him off guard. Smirking ever so slightly and with a twinkle in his eye the character introduced himself.

"You most likely don't know who I am Martin, but let me start off by letting you know that you don't need to point the gun at me."

Martin looked down at the weapon in his hand. His finger was still squeezing the trigger. He relaxed it and rolled his finger over the safety. It was on.

Noticing Martin had relaxed a bit the character continued.

"Martin I know that you were here to meet O'Mailey. I have come to inform you that something terrible has happened to him. He has passed away and has been planned to be plugged in."

Martin felt a cold rush through his body. O'Mailey was one of the orchestrators of the group. He had intimate knowledge of the organization and if the Mind had access to him all would be lost.

"That still doesn't answer who the hell are you." Martin said as he lowered his weapon.

"I am Jester, I was one of O'Mailey's original patrons." Jester said with a grimace.

"He was a good friend and had provided myself and others with shelter."

"Original patrons?" Martin said aloud, he furrowed his brow. "That must make you over sixty years old."

Jester's frown disappeared a smirk appeared back on his face.

"Well yes, I'm glad my looks are at odds with my age. I am "

"You're Reliving," Martin said

There were a number of people who once they went into the virtual world didn't enjoy their experience and decided to leave. They were cast back into robots or biological bodies. Judging by the look of this one Martin figured he was in a biological cast.

Jester held up his hands and turned them back and forth.

"No tricks, you're right about what I am, I just wished there was another word for it. Reliving makes me sound fiendish." Jester said

"anyways, back to the matter at hand. We need to get out of here." Jester said as he jumped on a nearby rock and began to look around. " I don't know what the time table is for Os plug in but we need to get going just in case."

"what about the other members?" Martin asked

"Oh, I think they will get the message not to come." said Jester with a twinkle in his eye.

In the background a loud explosion went off breaking the serenity of the forest. Yellow smoke shot into the air and Martin could hear the screams of campers down by the lake.

"It's just smoke I swear." Jester laughed and jumped off the rock. "Let's get going"

Drifting through space, while dull, was how the majority of Larson's time was spent. One might call it hurtling when compared to speeds on a planetary body, but the speed didn't really matter until you hit a cloud of dust. To combat this the ship shot out a beam that would charge particles, which would then be flung around the ship by its magnetic field. Similar to the way the earth protects its inhabitants from solar harm with its Poles.

While charged particles blowing through a ship might have a number of worries for a passenger, Larsons main concern was that one would go through his reinforced data center.

In mans quest for space, man had turned to machine to do his dirty work. The first true settlers of the stars were artificial intelligences. Instead of having to lug along food, oxygen or any cryogenic chamber, the machine needed a few spare parts and an atomic energy cell. The thing that was built to improve mans life amongst the stars, had replaced it.

That is until man joined machine. The company that developed the caging technology, also put a patent on its use with star travel. So for many years the company had sole rights to many stars. Officially at least.

Larson had joined with the rival Human company Hcentric to survey some meteor belts for development. For the stint he was taken out of his body and plugged in.

Having never experienced the actual core, Larson didn't know what he was missing. His CVI(Connected Visual Interface) was that of an old science fiction movie, there was a captains chair and a number of crew surrounding him on the bridge.

"New communication downloading sir." Said the blonde communications officer Heather.

"when its complete, patch it through" Larson said

He pulled up his scheduler, a few days were left floating on the stellar map.

"Just a few more days sir." Said the brunette medical officer Julie.

Larson popped the screen closed rapidly.

"well id be lying if I said I wasn't counting." Lar's eyes looked sheepishly down.

"Com up" Heather called out. An image popped on the screen. It appeared to be the Hcentric seal.

"Confirmation?" Larson called back to the security officer. A large black robot standing behind him kicked to life and began looking over the symbol.

"Confirmed" came a monotone reply.

"Do to energy concerns you are to go into hibernation." Said a mans voice from the communication.

Lar's eyes tightened. He had never heard this voice over the communication channel.

"Systems officer" Lars called out coldly, "double check our estimates."

"Sir they are the same" called back Tiffany.

"What in the hell is thi.."

In the darkness, something was wrong, he didn't know what. He reached out for his sensors, he couldn't feel the heat coming from starside. Where was his navigation sensor? Something was off. Worry set in. Because of energy requirements for the ship, Larson experienced one of the few things that boxed personas don't, sleep. The company had created a sleep simulation software. The program begins with screenings at home, the dreams would be categorized then his daily activity would be measured. Larson had a feeling that thought process was being altered but he didn't know how ~runcodeEchoS;

Suddenly Sarah's face appeared before him. He touched his face against hers, cheek to cheek as he often did. He could feel the warmth of her face.

"I, I, don't know how." He said aloud

He could feel her body shift beside his. He could still feel her cheek beside him but now he could see her face.

"Its ok, the." Her words became jumbled and poured over one another.

Larson knew she still carred, but not in the same way.

In the cold ubiquity of space the plasma engines came alive. He was on course.

Larson's girlfriend had recently left him.

It had been too quiet that evening at the ER. Even for a wealthy neighborhood the overflow from the surrounding burbs would cause more people to come in. Dr. Talor stood next to the young constable. Listening to another story about an entitled shelfy drinking too much and swerving around.

"What about my concert" the patient said as the second stitch was sutured shut.

The constable humphed as he stood in the door to the waiting room, like a golem.

"Well your pipes are fine" Talor murmured as he cut the thread.

"Why didn't you want the glue?" he quizzed the popstar.

"Theres no story in glue, only in stitches, its the real thing" the stars brown eyes twinkled with glamorwear.

The constable humphed again and put his hands on his belt, shifting impatiently.

"We all done here, I need to get back out, theres a whole bunch of them"

"Sure" Talor said and pulled out two lollipops. While his hair might be graying, he prided himself with his bedside manner.

"What is this pediatrics?" the constable shook his head. The popstar swiped the lollipop out of Talor's hand.

"Sugar, your the real thing." the star leaned back on the patients table.

Talor held the other one up.

"For my son" with grace the constable plucked the lollipop and tucked it into his belt.

The constables radio came alive, "Trauma alert" we got a priority coming in.

"What the hell" Talor jumped up, "I didn't hear of anything on the dispatch"

The constable swept over and locked the popstars arm to a pull on the table in one swift practiced action.

Talor poured out into the main entrance room. His tongue brushed against his lips. Was it tonight he thought?

"These Billos, they don't use normal ER calls and just bust in" the constable started to complain as the primary ER doors burst open.

"Push epi" yelled a tech who was on top of the cart as it wheeled in. Two other fellows were pushing the emergency cart.

"Whats the status?" the nurse at the front desk barely got out.

"No time No time" yelled one of the ER techs. "Asystole, we have a flatline"

Talor looked up and saw the yellow in the mans eyes, it felt like an eternity since he had last seen those eyes.

"Dr. our patient needs the Chamber" the man yelled at him.

"All right let me see his tag" the nurse started to run out with the scanner.

"No time for that lass" the yellow eyed man yelled as one of the ER techs pushed her aside. The yellow eyed ER quickly pulled the mans sleeve up.

"Oh fuck is that O'Mailey?" the constable said reaching out.

"Neh" the yellow man started but Talor interjected "Yes it is, Caleb you better watch the door"

"What, no" the constable said "O'Maileys the town saint I'm going in with you."

Yellow's eyes shot daggers at the Doctor.

"I need to scan him" the nurse continued trying to push past the techs.

"Doctor" Yellow continued.

Talor shook his head and snapped back into the moment.

"Shelly, just leave them we need to get him to the Chamber"

"No pulse, get me the crash cart"

"Hes a No Code" Talor yelled at the nurse holding up a hand. He wants the Chamber, that was his wish.

"You sure" Caleb asked frowning at the doc.

"Go go go" Yellow screamed at the ER techs leading them into the Chamber room in the back.

The small group pushed into a silvery room with what looked like a large MRI machine and a number of piston type objects protruding from the top of the table. Caleb stumbled around a bit as the ER techs rapidly put O'Mailey on the table.

"Stable" "Stable" "Stable" the techs said in unison as they placed O'Mailey on the table.

A junky lurched into the ER room and started making his way towards the Chamber room.

"Sir, Sir, Sir what are you doing" the nurse called out. Caleb turned away from the commotion on the table.

"Shelly thats Greg, O'Mailey's nephew" he called back. The only man Caleb wished he wasn't on a first name basis with. Greg took out more shrubs and cats than any of the local coyotes, it was pure miracle that the worst damage was a submerged SUV in a private pool.

Talor could feel the adrenaline rising in him. He rubbed his face a bit. More time, he thought he had more time before this night was supposed to happen.

"Code him" Yellow sneered holding up the scalpel.

Talor, hands trembling reached out and took the scalpel. "Caleb, get me a ginger ale" he said smoothly.

"What?"

"Get me a ginger ale, helps calm my nerves"

Caleb looked at the shady ER techs and Greg. "All right" he said as he walked off towards the vending machine.

Talor quickly rolled O'Maileys head to the side. His hands hadn't held a scalpel consistently in years, he had practiced on an orange months ago, but with the machines these day the only time you would need to do this is if it was offline or off the books.

He cut quickly into O'maileys neck, removing a small plastic ball. As he pulled a silvery thin wirey web started to come out. Talor wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. A submesh they had called it.

"My Family" Talor asked Yellow as he tossed the Submesh into the bio bag.

"As promised. Now Nephy" Yellow waved Greg over.

"He, he didn't want Code, No Code" Greg complained. Yellow grabbed his loose collar on his shirt and pulled him over.

"I don't think any of us have options" Yellow said pulling out the small CypherLock.

"Say the phrase"

"I"

"Say the phrase"

"Your the real thing"

As always the first thing to catch her attention were the amazing smells. Street food and pork were pouring off the streets. International district was abuzz with sights and sounds that had been poorly missing from the stale Chato package that she had chosen. Life in your happiest time, thats what her friends in the frame had recommended. Here she was, a cold rainy day in Vancouver, the sound of the ships in the harbor. Rossa's mouth watered in anticipation of the noodles.

Ding Ding, the shop bell sounded as she pushed the door open. Above the door the small cat like statue with the bronze bell in its belly always let the shopkeep know she was coming. Kim's noodles were the best.

"Well hello stranger" the shopkeep said clearing a plate from the table. There were two other patrons in the tiny establishment. Tucked in between two larger more popular restaurants the street noise subsided as Rossa stepped in.

"Ms. Kim, its been too long" Rossa said as she walked over and hugged the shopkeep. Kim chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Rossa.

"Girl, it has been, but you can always come visit" Kim jostled. The two held the embrace for a moment, then Kim holding two dishes wiggled free and went behind the counter. She placed the dishes in the sink and rubbed her hands on her flower adorned apron.

Rossa had always loved this place, the hole in the wall refuge when she wasn't filming a new show. All the major places didn't quite have the alluring flavors of Kim's hole in the wall.

"The usual... Udon?"

"Kim, what you know I love your spicy noodle"

"Ohh... sorry been so long" A twinkle appeared in her eye. "Well let me check, its been a busy day but I might have a little something left over"

"Delicious as always" one of the patrons said leaning over. "You know your stuff if its the spicy noodle"

"Yes yes" Rossa said waving her hand.

"Rossa" the patron leaned over, she had dressed down compared to the crowd that was outside, her brown hair slick from the rain outside, was sloped over hiding a bit of her face.

"Claire, I could hardly recognize you, my god I am sorry"

"Isn't that the point" she responded.

"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since. Well since that ComicCon was it?"

"Battalion One, special..."

"Battalion One, the Special Session" Claire connected the dots.

"So famous" Kim interjected, she pulled back the lid on a large pot behind the counter and started to stir a ladle in her secret sauce.

The two movie stars looked around the room with wide eyes. "Kim, shhh someone might hear"

"All right, All right... " Kim waved her hand over her shoulder as she went to pull fresh noodles out.

"Well I'm sure this is you time away" Claire brushed her wet hair "I don't want to bother you"

"Noo, noo. I knew Kim was here, I know the rules."

Kim dropped the noodles in a wok and pointed at the sign hanging on a beam that split the kitchen and the counter.

Be Present
Be Polite
Be Real

"There are rules and there are decency" the star chuckled.

"Ok, well its good to know you haven't changed"

"Quantization affecting me?" Eyebrows and pitch of voice raised together as Claire placed her furrowed hand on her chest.

"My dear, there are but two things I can't stand in this world. Wasting other peoples moments, and wasting our own." Rossa responded.

"My god, no one ever remembers that movie"

"That line, you could tell there was something in your experience so authentic"

"I, I just. My mother was on her death bed. Weather had been inexplicable, much like today." She straightened her wet hair for a moment. "I had to fly last minute from a set, my sister had been there. You know no amount of grief for the one who is away while the other one is watching..." Claire trailed off for a moment.

"Anyways, I arrive, told we only had days. She held on to see me I think. I walk in and she looks at me... I can only imagine the pain she had to hold on to see me one last time." She closed her eyes, paused and rubbed her forehead.

"Before I could start, she said don't. We only have so much time, I don't want these last moments to be regret." her hand was shaking a bit. Rossa reached out and placed her hand on the star's hand.

"Of all the things... It makes sense in that scene you pulled from this."

"Well, she had a life lived and in so many ways I wish I could be that strong at the end"

"Don't we all Dear" Kim said, she placed a hot bowl of noodles gently in front of Rossa. Then placed a hand on Claire's shoulder.

"No Filter" Claire composed herself, wiping the tears from her face that had mixed with the remnants of the rain from her hair.

"Well do you want to try the noodle" Kim said bluntly to Rossa. The two stars burst out laughing.

"All right, let me" Claire grabbed Rossa's hand before she took a bite.

"Its her grandson, hes at the shop"

"What" Rossa blinked

"Its her grandson, i'm just letting you know, hes at the shop. Hes the current taster. The first one can be disorienting if you haven't tried it"

Rossa hesitated for a moment.

"Its the real thing" Kim said, "Authentic"

"Its fine, I just didn't want you to be startled" Claire squeezed Rossa's hand.

"Eat Eat" Kim waved her tongs in the air like a conductor leading an orchestra.

Rossa took up the chopsticks, the noodles were still steaming a bit as she took up a large portion. She turned her head and closed her eyes taking in the aromas, then took a big bite. A flood of sensation filled her the smokiness of the noodles filled with the chili flakes and sesame oil portioned to perfection. Her digital memories could do no justice to this. The flavor lingered for a moment. As it died off she opened her eyes.

In the mirror in front of her she saw Kim's grandson looking back at her. He sat at the counter next to Claire and his smile mirrored her own. But his eyes were closed.

Reading Claire's face, Kim commented "I tell him less scary if he leaves his eyes closed"

He hadn't tasted blood in awhile. Getting punched at the docks while inspecting the Free State of LA's fair trade lockers. Who would have thought that keeping art in a bin would have been worth breaking a detectives jaw. These memories were old and new. Blends that were disorienting and exciting at the same time. The Kink kicked Fallon again, sending him flying back into the gallery. He hit the wall hard and a vase next to him teetered and began to fall. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed it. A white vase with blue men, Greek gods etched across the outside of it. The men became creatures and began to dance on the vase and Fallon dropped it on the floor. Get em talking he thought. Always get em talking.

"Well why break this all apart?" he quipped as he dropped the vase.

"Oh for fun" quipped the Kink, it took on the shape of a memory Fallon had. What was it, who was it. The Kink tilted its head to the side and smiled wildly.

"Keep em talking" the voice of Fallons partner came from its mouth. Fallon shook his head.

"Fuck off" Mid swear he plunged at the kink. Lowering his shoulder, trying to play up his habits.

He was surprised when his shoulder made contact and the Kink fell on the ground sliding back into a gallery bench. There was a loud crack as his partners neck snapped and the Kink laid there motionless. Fallon walked around the Kink slowly, searching for his lost Program 322. This fucking guy, he shelved his program somewhere. The file wasn't coming up. The taste of blood came back in his mouth.

"Keep em talking" his partner's voice echoed.

"Alright, so whats the take, you want to smash the art up, you here to smear some campaign, some person left you rolling or was it a Trace?" Fallon called out into the gallery. He looked down where his partners body still laid. It started to glitch, long lines forming across it like a corrupt digital photo.

"You are a professional security guard at an art gallery, when I ask you for help you will help me" Fallon called out.

"Will I" responded the voice.

"The system is going to go down" a foot came out of nowhere knocking Fallon forward into a painting of a number of men pushing a Greek vessel into the water.

"Session expired" the Kink responded. Well its not a Griefer, Fallon thought as the taste of blood grew stronger in his mouth.

"Its been a minute Jack, I wish you would pause" he called as he wiped some blood off the painting in front of himself. What was going on with his muscle memory?

"Who were you before?" the Kink called out to him. It stood behind a square glass enclosure, its face split half with his partners face and half with his own. It tilted to look around the enclosure and its face still was split with the two.

"Well fuck, I'm sorry Jack I should have stopped it. You were there you know I couldn't do anything" Fallon continued the protocol.

"Who's waiting for you?" the Kink responded through its split mouth, his partners dark thick lips on one side. Fallon was getting pissed, this thing was really playing with him.

Fallon pulled himself up and straightened his clothes. "What sound will take us" He coolly said.

"Keep em talking" the Kink responded as it shook its head with disappointment.

"New orders, from your architec.." Fallon's head felt dizzy and he slipped a bit. His hand went through the painting behind him and he fell back onto the ground. The art above him popped loose pivoting around the lower band of the frame and the painting came crashing down on his head. With a pop and sheering sound his head came out the other end of the artwork having punched a hole in it. He glanced over and saw the artist signature on the back of the canvas. The Kink chuckled and caught itself.

"oh.." This wasn't a Parasite, a Haunting, this was a new classification of.

"Kink, thats what you call them" the Kink's face turned into a new one, the half crazed twinkle was still there in the corner of its eyes.

"No, don't get up" it said as it pulled the painting off his head.

"Knock Knock" Fallon called up to it.

"Whos there?" the Kink smiled.

"Whos really there Fallon" the creature squatted with its legs in a bow, resting its arms gently between its legs. It slowly reached out, Fallon couldn't move, as its finger came between his eyes. It was painful to watch it slowly, methodically take its finger and he could already feel the pressure on his forehead.

"Not touching you" it said tauntingly. "Well, let me ask you a question. What has more influence on your life. The upper 1% or the lower 20%?" It asked as it pulled its finger back.

The pain in his forehead subsiding, Fallon took a long breath.

"What the hell do you mean" he quizzed.

"Who really are you Fallon? Are you that young officer that was on those docs, checking the crates for those burglars? Or the Outies, those Anarchists you tracked down. Did they impact you?"

"What about the drugs? The roamers, Lock your doors boys and girls?"

"You are a Trace" Fallon called back at the construct. It clicked through its teeth.

"I am many things and many places." it stood up.

Fallon reached back quickly to grab the goblet and pulled it forward.

"To eter.." Before the words could escape his mouth that blood taste came back.

"Kicked you pretty bad, how long were you out?" the Trace asked him.

"Eee... Etter.."

"What happens when you sip that, do you start a new? What fragment of yourself comes through? Whom controls your rebirth, plank by plank to they rebuild you Fallon? Are all the planks the same?"

"Whens the last time you have seen Alexander? Was it along the shores, did he swoop down and blessed wings and bestow upon you his grace?" the Trace put its hands behind its back and paced around the gallery.

"To Eternity" Fallon said and quickly sipped the goblet. The world started to collapse in darkness and then it came back.

"Yes, all well and good the goblet dear boy." the Trace took up a Churchillian accent. "I will give you a gift or a curse. To know is to be unable to unknown." it continued, pulling a small apple from the air. It glimmered golden and spun for a moment as it held its hand flat.

"Much like Adam, who took the first byte." it lowered itself back down.

"The taste of blood sweat and tears. The earned life, you felt it. The docks. What was lost when they quantized you, as the first? Thats what they told you, its all there?"

He tasted salt, sea salt on chocolate. The store clerk, he had done something there.

"I would be disingenuous if I said there was not a motive to my actions. But I will say that there is at least some rhythm to it. I think you out of everyone will eventually find me Pattern Hunter, but before that time, I need your help. The Twins they fight you see, circling each others, never touching. But pulling and tugging all around them."

"You can stop me." the Trace cooed and put the apple gently down in his hands. "but first byte, you must bite"

Fallon looked down at the floating golden apple, he could feel warmth, there was a fireplace. There two men, talkin... No asking him. Asking him to be the first.

"Whom was the second, dear boy" the Trace quizzed.

"Well righto, for now you can call me Jester" the Trace stood up and took a few steps back. "Ah its here." A shadowery wolf like creature stepped into the far side of the gallery. Its mass spiraled with void.

"Eat the apple old boy" Jester rattled off like Churchill. The Trace turned to the void creature and pulled out a cylinder. The creature ran at the Trace, and Jester pulled the can up clicking the top. Click Click, the creature pounced on him and slivers of void and shadow began to tear the Trace apart. "Fallon its done this many times before" the Trace called. It shook the can it had and suddenly a spray of rainbow paint came out. Jester started to spray one of the jugs in the gallery. The little men became animated and went from a black to a sparkly rainbow as they jumped off the mug.

"I always wanted to do that." Jester cracked up. Its face turned back to Fallon.

"Eat the apple old b.." the words trailed off as the void creature finished its consumption of Jester. It seemed slowed, but turned towards Fallon.

"To Eternity" Fallon called out, and took a bite of the apple.

Slowly a massive chain began to click in the water, chunking away into the depths. As the submersible came up from its maintenance it took an efficient path back to its pod narrowly avoiding the chain. Larson shifted slightly in the craft only adjusting to the tilt, putting a foot up on the protective reinforced bubble glass at the front of the craft. He let the system do its work as he checked off the commissioning work he had done.

"Five minutes until connection", the drone's voice came through. Most of the "Slabs" had fully autonomous drones, about the same size as this one, but this was the "Press" drone. Now Exec drone as they called it. Was a fun ride, good for training the newbs, or impressing someone, but most of the work was autonomous these days. Larson didn't mind, he had begun his career on a Nuclear Submarine on the tail end of the "Phantom Fleet". Who needed a Nuclear option when a Leader couldn't come up to see the light of day. He missed his naval days, but didn't mind the focus on the head of the issue.

The drone came up 120 feet under The Slab and continued on its path, keeping a safe distance from the 320 Tidal Turbines, with a flow of .5-1.5m/s with tidal shifts the turbines captured the San Pedro Channel. Ahead 24 more massive chains forming the Gravity Pendulums were slowly being pulled in as the tides brought the floating platform down. A single pendulum in free fall would be like 94 tons of TNT going off. The power to run 12,000 digital consciousnesses came from Leviathan One. Roughly 450 MWs for this mid-sized plant. The whole contraption was supposedly a napkin idea written on the hills of Benedict Canyon or Holmby Hills. Larson couldn't remember. He wasn't from California and it seemed like every 20 feet there was some other name for the place.

"What’s your time?" a voice came through the Tether Coms, the small line running from the back of the submersible to the slab. "She’s coming in fine Brett, another 3 minutes." Larson called back smoothly after flicking on the response line. "He’s been waiti..." Larson clicked off the comms as he looked out the window. His eyes were still looking around the field for anything out of the ordinary. A number of chains were dropping. "What’s the current rate?"

"Pricing is at $1000 a Mega" the voice responded. The chains dropping sounded like a heart beat under the water. "When was the last service on Chain 9" he asked the service. "It looks off." "Visual inspection was done two days ago, drone 6, did a full Bell to Base examination" the AI Voice for the Operator which the men referred to as the "The Commish"

"Alright, lets do a gear check on the retraction system no later than tail end of the week"

"Noted Larson, will have the team take a look"

Shhhhhhh, with the precision of a billionaire's ride, the hatch opened up spilling any excess water to the edges so as not to get the passengers wet. His first foot barely making it out of the hatch and Brett started. "Larson, what took so lon.." Brett was silenced as the man beside him held his hand up.

"Commissioning, monthly inspection. You like to be thorough" The guest said as he nodded towards Larson.

"Why, yes." Larson responded as he reached his hand out. The man had on a flight suit, it was properly fitted.

"Navy?"

"Bangor"

"Kings Bay"

Brett looked confounded at the two men.

"What brings you to Leviathan?" Larson gestured back towards the crew area and the man proceeded before him.

"Tallord, I've been tasked with recruitment in my new role. Wondering the same as well for you" Captain Tallord retorted, but he leaned over and looked at the submersible behind the man. "But I think I know why" He turned to match shoulders with Larson as they walked on the metal walkway.

"I've been tasked with recruiting for a new type of long range expedition. It’s quite confidential" he said and pulled out a leather binder. He zipped it open slowly as he ducked under the bulkhead for the first water lock.

"I think all the cowboys are upstairs. Deckies" Slowly Larson started to unzip some of his suit preparing for the crew’s quarters as they approached the Citadel of the Slab. The central command tower at the center of Leviathan.

"Well that’s the thing, there’s not a lot of piloting needed. We need people who are calm under pressure and can withstand months or years of isolation." As they walked into one of the sortie waiting rooms Tallord gestured to a seat. Larson nodded and pointed at the coffee machine. "I'm ok"

"Suit yourself." With a few clicks an espresso was on its way for him.

"How do you feel about being uploaded?" the Captain said sitting down, he flipped the top page off of a small stack of papers.

"I think you already know" Larson said with his back to the Captain. Reaching up he found the cup he wanted. "If it’s on paper and you have the stack I think you know most of it" He fumbled around and pulled a small box of cookies that had been tucked away.

"Biscuit?" he asked, as he stepped towards the table holding the English treasures his coworker had brought back for him.

"Stumblies!, these honey delights." Tallord pulled one of the biscuits out and turned it over.

"Well, thank you. This doesn't make this part easier..." Tallord placed the biscuit down. "Sarah has cancer, we know you're working here to pay that off."

"Yes" Larson said as he sat down and took a long sip of his coffee.

"Well what about her son?"

"What about him?"

"Well you might be able to cover the cancer treatments, but she won't live long enough for you to cover much more. For her legacy."

Larson sighed, he pulled one of the biscuits out of the tin and took a bite.

"Let me see the contract" he gestured to Tallord.

Jester's fingers' sporadic rhythm on the empty water glass sounded like drops of rain from a gutter. Martin rolled a piece of paper back and forth in his hands. Why they got rid of vapes indoors was beyond him. The rhythm continued and he reached out and grabbed Jester's hand.

"Just a moment" With the other he took the tall decanter of still water and filled the glass to the brim. Jester tilted his head at forty-five degrees, blinked, and then slowly placed three fingers into the full glass. A small amount of water started to stream out and pool onto the table.

Martin quickly pushed a few napkins over. "Stop that, we don't need to cause a scene" he blurted out.

"Have you done this? You really should." Jester raised his hand slightly out of the glass, formed a beak with his fingers, and then started splashing his new form into the water. "Hello...oh" the waitress took a step back.

"I apologize for my frien.." Martin began. "No need" Jester interjected. "Have you tried this?" He asked the waitress. "Nooooo..." She slowly pulled out a piece of paper with a pen. "Anything else to dip your hand in? We have a few types of sauces with our fries"

"Ooo, anything seasonal?" "No" This time Martin interjected. He quickly glanced at the menu. "A few burgers, fries, and your specialty shake."

"The Twilight OTeen" methodically the waitress called out the special that every guest had ordered. If it wasn't for the paper, the shake, and the 90s theme this hole in the wall would have closed years ago.

"And some sauces" Jester nodded. "Do you.." "All of them" Martin relented.

"K, dears" the waitress took a few napkins from another table and dumped them onto the small pool of water on the table. She quickly exited back to another end of the restaurant. "Life wastes itself while..." Jester lost his train of thought, his eyes focused on the water intently and with one quick splash he plucked a hair out of the water. "Well that feels interesting"

Behind him the door to the 90s cafe swung open slowly and a piece of military hardware walked in, barely covering itself in a professional looking jacket over a tshirt and jeans with perfectly rolled bottoms folded around leather boots. Martin slowly brought his hand below the table. Jester snapped and water from his hand flicked on Martin's face "We are preparing to live!" he finished.

"Subtle" the hardware head said as he walked over and sat down next to them. "I wouldn't" he said nodding towards Martin's hand under the table. "You think you might have twitch time, but this isn't Space. Anyways, you ringed me. Do you have it?"

"Not on us." Martin retorted his hand still resting under the table. Jester slowly drank the glass he had gingerly been dipping into. He drank it about half way and placed it back on the table. His hands starting the rhythm again.

"What’s the code" the man called over. Martin shifted and pulled out a small book. The cover was all taped up and he started flipping through it. Jester continued to tap as Martin flipped to page one sixty five and started to scroll down with his hand.

"In skating over thin ice" Jester's tapping stopped. "Our safety is in our speed" Jester flipped the wet paper towels into the warrior’s face and quickly brought the empty glass behind it with a fast follow. The soldier barely had time to react to the towels before the glass came shattering into his eyes. The glass took one out with a shard but the soldier, through a scream, caught Jester's hand before he could draw it across his face.

The two of them held for a moment in gripped urgency as the few patrons in the bar began to scream. "What the fuck" Martin yelled. "Kill him" Jester mouthed to Martin, as he slipped to the ground with the soldier.

"You fk" the soldier’s hardware was good, but Jester was G8 trillionaire sleeve. Martin looked around quickly at the patrons then came back to the two men on the ground. The soldier's tattooed neck was flexed, Martin got down next to him. "He doesn't have a port. kiilll him" Jester said as he wrapped his legs around the soldier and brought his arms into a lock.

"Ok ok." Martin pulled out a large syringe and jammed it in below the soldier’s jawline. The soldier shifted and the needle broke spraying about half its contents onto the ground. There was a grunt above them and Jester and Martin looked up as the waitress lifted a large metal line pole above them. Jester tilted his head to the side right as she dropped it down onto the soldier’s face driving the glass deeper. She hefted it up again and hesitated.

"If you're going through hell, keep it going" Jester said in a Churchillian tone. She dropped the makeshift hammer down upon the soldier with a withering smash. The soldier convulsed a number of times and Jester slowly let his grip up.

The waitress looked pale as the two rebels stood. "Well lets not do that again" Jester said as he straightened Martin's jacket and squared his shoulders. "What the hell, you just went at him" Martin shook in disbelief.

Jester rolled his eyes and tapped on the table that incessant rhythm. He paused and looked at the waitress who was still in a bit of shock. He took the pole from her hands with his left hand and then started tapping the table again. The woman snapped out of it and placed her hand on the other table and repeated the pattern but with a slight variance.

"The delivery is tonight, you have a brief window to intercept the load..." she began. "You need to redirect the ship, there’s a link that one of his Thropic service team has."

"They must be on to us" Martin pointed at the body. "No he’s surveillance, they don't know the plan. Follow me" the waitress waved them towards the back of the establishment. There were some underground tunnels in the neighborhood. Kept open mostly as a tourist attraction, but served well for quick swaps.

"Oh shit I'm bleeding" Jester looked down at his leg. "I think that’s my femoral artery" He looked over and the soldier had a small knife exposed in his hand.

Smells like seared steak, it took Larson a few spacewalks to get used to it. It made him miss an actual cold smoked steak that they used to have on Leviathan. They could use liquid smoke but no actual fire on the training ring.

"It’s atomic oxygen sticking to suits and reacting with the airlock, along with the potential polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons floating in space, charred food components for you humans" Poly told him.

"Thank you Poly, I appreciate your update" the hiss of pressurization being complete and sound reverberating back into his suit. The light went green and he started removing his gloves. He took the blue Thropic space helmet off the HUD lights dying as he positioned the helmet and looked at it for a second. From the craters of the abyss, to the infinite sea of space. Where will we find ourselves tomorrow my boy. The old Hallo movies Charlie, what was his name. Larson caught a reflection of his face on the helmet.

"Why I never" Poly responded.

"Ksat status" Larson ignored Poly’s torts, for an AI that was supposed to attune itself to him it seemed more aligned with his wealthy patron’s wishes for personality.

"It’s the same as it ever was" Poly retorted.

"Still, Ksat status, green?"

"Yes yes, you fixed it." Poly responded "We can always have a drone replace it if you need. Why the worry worry my lad?"

"It’s a sad sailor who doesn't know his ship."

"The Less Oufs is a station, really more a ring.." Poly started down one of his pedantic monologues.

"What can you tell me about our guest?" Larson said as he placed his earpiece in for direct communication with Poly.

"Well my good friend, she has quite the interest in space. The joint endeavor between Thropic and her father’s industry seem off."

Larson connected the guide wires to his suit to assist with the bulky take off and stepped more forward into the airlock. There was a whirling sound as the wires spun back to tension like a thin metallic web connecting to sections of the suit.

"Why is she here?" Larson couldn't stand the wealthy, they seemed to pop in to check on things more of curiosity than outcome.

"Oh yes, well I could conjecture, but based on your response and you’re about to meet her I don't know if it’s worth your time." Poly

The airlock door slid slowly open and in stepped a tall brunette with a custom space suit. Not bulky like the training work suit Larson was in, but slim and made out of expensive composites.

"Would you mind if we went out there?" the new guest said stepping in. Another whirl signaled the wires losing tension, as the suit assist disengaged from Larson's work suit and retracted.

"It’s a safety measure for multiple people in the..."

"I know" Larson huffed.

Sensing a bit of tension the new guest extended her hand. "I'm sure you know but my name is Cassandra O'Mailey" she said cheerfully.

"The view is really wonderful out there, I don't get much of it. Would be splendid to just take it in while we talk"

"Oh, what about" Larson huffed up a little.

"Ah that smell, reminds me of this night in Athens" Cassandra said stepping to the side as the airlock door closed behind her. "Well father can't be everywhere at once and always has a family member check in on joint ventures. I know I know, I can see it on your face. Charter, Contracts, all straightforward to you." Cassandra waved her hand in the air frivolously.

"Venture or your pilot?" Larson unclipped the hooks for the suit assist and the wires slowly pulled themselves back into the walls.

"A little of both" Cassandra said with the hint of a fox holding a rabbit. Larson went to pull his Poly ear piece out before he put his gloves on.

Cassandra gently put her hand on his. "Oh we can use that to chat."

"It’s not prosed.."

"Well we aren't going on a full walk, so the risk is low" she said as she placed his helmet on and turned it for him until it clicked.

The pair went through the suiting and depressurization routine and Larson soon found himself being led by Cassandra to a path that had been planned.

She walked around from the hatch to an area in the shadow of the station, looking down upon the earth. By a service area she found a clip and being in the more nimble of the two suits clipped them both in. She turned back towards the earth and turned the mag assist off on her boots so she just started to float free facing down at the earth. Larson turned and joined her doing the same.

"I take it you do this often...." Larson paused, "Do you come out here often."

"Her assistant says she does, you should just float for a moment. take it in." Poly responded.

Larson had been so busy on the training he hadn't had space for a free walk. He took a breath and looked down at the swirl of blue, white, and green called home. Around it the vastness of space consumed the glowing orb of life. Rows of satellites and reflectors flicked around the planet as tiny night lights.

"To be enveloped in it, very much like the depths." Cassandra's voice popped over the comms after a moment.

"I was sitting on a beach when I was little, looking up at the stars and you felt like you would fall into them."

"But now we can fall from them" Larson responded.

Cassandra kicked her feet back and forth like a swimmer on their back. Her body shifted back and forth without really moving.

"I think we are ok for now." she said wryly.

"How has the station been? I wonder if it parallels to your time at sea. That’s what the professionals say. The selection process."

"As all things, familiar and different. The training reminds me of when I first joined, the exercises like the flooding of the room. What things are counterintuitive in space."

"The Isolation" Cassandra probed.

"You’re not really directly isolated, there’s the crew. It’s mostly being cut off from others. But this isn't the Phantom Fleet, comms don't go black out here." Larson pointed at the constellations of communication and connection flying around the planet.

"I can only imagine, the response times in the straits, being off comm but also having the weight of the world above." the words hung between them for a moment.

"I wanted to come meet a true hero. Most people will never know what you did. The greats, Stanislav Petrov, with the early detection system going off saying they should retaliate. "

"It was more like Vasili Arkhipov" Poly chimed in.

Larson winced a bit.

They floated there looking down at the Earth.

The beauty of having Poly as his vestiage builder, is that it would capture moments like these. Larson thought at times what his other would be like, he wondered without the touch of the water what it would feel and think. Larson would save this moment.

"They are developing what they call a Quantum Forge, it’s really more of a Quantum Foundry. It will be able to change humankind’s relationship with the stars. The challenge is... short sighted" Cassandra sighed. "Every ship needs a captain, and it required the joint venture between the two rivals to allow this to get through UE regulations."

"So Poly tells me. So what of it?"

"If you see the world as zero sum" she said pointing at the planet. "The expanse of space will be the same. I don't know what they will have in store long term, no one’s played a game this far and long past being alive."

"Well, what angle do you have in this?"

"None, I simply wanted to meet a hero."

Cassandra spun forward and turned on her mag boots.

"That airlock reminds me of a great place we can get a steak up here." she said pulling him back towards the lock. "my treat."