Terminal

TTL: The Ninth Labour

...Hera's spite was seeded amongst the Amazonians, both awed and terrified by the feats of the mighty Hercules. So as their setting upon him did cause him to slay the most noble queen of Amazons, all as Hera had ordained came to pass.

Euripides

Those of you who have completed this task - as children do not know of the permanence of things, so too might the wise remain unaware of what lies beyond their knowing. Only the enlightened might evade such meticulous treachery as you have devised. You are hereby worthy of bearing the title...

Amazonian Tragedian

Congratulations to the authors of the following stories:
Pawn take King
The Song by @WiseDragonGirl.
Just Take a Stroll by @PlatinumSkink.
The Silver Bullet by @Holmishire.

Your stories have been added to The Twelve Labours Victory Archives, to which there will be a permanent link in my signature. In addition, your victory has been announced in both the News and Roleplaying Discussion Subforums!

Alas, another Labour - and another lost Challenge Accolade. None of the winning entries were deemed worthy of Diaphanous Stigma. I suppose I shall just put it with the others. Its loss, as promised before, shall be felt more greatly in the Final Hazard.

Mag Lev's Reviews

Act One

Fail

Though having quite the exposition on the character in question, Taina, Prologue failed to have any part enact a tragedy without knowing before hand what they were doing or doing so at the behest of somebody which could not be retaliated against. Instead, the party enacting the tragedy knew full well that what they were doing was fully going to harm Taina and that they weren't doing it to at the behest of anybody else. While it does deserve praise for such character exposition so as to cause feeling for Taina, Al, Maggie, and Tony, I can not, in my mind, accept a win from this writing. Yet, it made for a wonderful and touching story.

Pawn Takes King

Pass

Minor errors in grammar and sentence structure make it somewhat difficult to read. In the use of the french term 'danse macabre', the 'of' placed after it makes it 'the dance of death of burned' and the addition of a comma afterwards would have made the sentence structure flow more natural. A few commas is all that is needed to improve the flow of the work. It has otherwise deserved its passing grade.

The Song

Pass

Well written with near none grammatical errors. Certainly an interesting way to go around with the tragedy, the realization of its happening having come until a long while after the fact. The story and ploy to use the character was rather dull though and obvious from the moment the drink was given away. It was almost to be expected that a nobleman would use a commoner for such matter

Just Take A Stroll

Pass

Lacks the use of "" for conversation and instead uses the singular apostrophes. Possess several errors in grammar and a misspelling of the word maneuvering. While the story itself is good, the way it is written makes for a bit lackluster read. Commas placed in certain areas weren't needed and other areas where they should have been.

The Silver Bullet

Pass

The story fulfills the requirements and has great grammar. While it doesn't plainly state that the character was led to kill another through some ploy, it does so in a covert way so as to imply that he was led to do so by Huldr. For the covert plot, its grammar being close to flawless and having a unique setting to catch the reader's attention, "The Silver Bullet" deserves praise, even a win I would say.

Terminal's Reviews

Act One

I am greatly saddened that you did not challenge me to tackle the scientific aspects of this particular story like last time, oh-so-mysterious-anonymous-author whose identity shall forever remain a mystery. I could have written 150,000 characters worth of commentary on the neuroscience. That aside, you doth protest too much in regards to your inability to refine the whole of the story's content. While there are more errors than might otherwise be expected of you - both in the form of typos and the occasional misplaced word - most occur earlier on in the story. The latter portions are rather pristine and do not bear any serious criticism.

I am afraid the reason you failed is down to the specificity of the challenge criteria. Simply put, Taina was put through the wringer by a bunch of stinkers who did not mind getting their own hands dirty.

Now you and I both know that in the context of the previous story, technically it should count since they did kind of sort of save her life. However, I know and you should known that each entry much stand on its own. The reader should not have to refer to external sources of information when evaluating the piece. Within the isolated context of this specific entry alone, the challenge criteria are not met. Even if we twist the logic a little and look at it as Taina enacting a tragedy against her friends by twisting a wrist and going off to play space cowgirl while leaving them all heartbroken, the fact of the matter is she did all of that of her own volition.

Pawn Take King

The first and most notable problem with the entry is the number of misplaced words out of nowhere, as well as the generally awkward sentence structure. Most of these are errors that an autocorrect would not have picked up, and so in the future I would recommend simply rereading your work in order to catch these sorts of problems.

and so as a black hand offered the king’s pawn a victory over own another pawn which was prodded into the fray. . .

Now deep in contemplation of the worth of this obvious trap, the real the battle begins.

Silent as ever though the smoking man, dressed in his lounge suit burning his smokes away like between his fingers. . .

Examples (Not Exhaustive)

Beyond that, my advice to you in terms of punctuation is to use commas much more sparingly. Look for ways to refine and condense sentence structures neatly without losing any important content, like so.

Two pawns, insignificant henchmen, leapt forward for their king and queen, and in reply, a single pawn moved away. . .

Could have been this:[

Two insignificant pawns leapt forward for their king and queen, and in reply a single enemy pawn moved away. . .

Three commas removed, and the sentence is still entirely correct grammatically.

Paragraph Two

The Song

Your handling of grammar and sentence structure has improved markedly, the greatest technical flaw with this story is the dialogue - it comes across as largely stilted and unnatural, staged in a way.

Paragraph Five:
“I will go there tomorrow and ask for her hand in marriage.”
Lemitsa already knows and they are out of earshot of the bartender, so this is rather clumsy verbal exposition given that Mikhal has no reason to say this.

Paragraph Seven:
"Allow me to smooth my throat with your fine ale and then I will sing for your customers, as agreed."
More expository speech that Mikhal has no real reason to verbalize; the information therein is effortlessly inferred by the reader even the speech is ignored. An ordinary man would just have asked to have a drink first and left it at that.

Paragraph Thirty-Six:
“You are a smart man, no wonder I can see you as a friend, but that is not all.”
Nobody actually talks like this - this would be something Lemitsa would be thinking, not verbalizing.

Examples

Beyond that, I am afraid I must agree with Mag Lev about the story's content. The entry is an easy pass, but it is vaguely uninteresting and easy to predict. A way you might have made it better could have been to write about Lemitsa tagging along with Mikhal the previous day as he gathered funds, whilst surreptitiously setting up his little scheme in the background - which, after the payoff, would have come across as vastly more impressive while also underscoring the extent to which Limitsa used Mikhal. The problem in short is that the story is too straightforward and simplified - brevity is the soul of wit, but as I have said before: Sometimes you need length in order to have depth. You have already demonstrated that you are capable of much more engaging stories, so this one was a bit of a letdown in that regard.

Just Take a Stroll

The usual smattering of inappropriate punctuation, but nearly no typos of note nor misplaced words. The most serious technical issue with the entry is, as Mag Lev indicated, your use of apostrophes rather than quotation marks to denote speech - which might be handwaved solely for stylistic reasons.

As far as the actual stories go, in some areas your your descriptive passages are simply amazing and wholly engaging. The identifying the Humans via their shoe markings, the inability to even perceive the rest of the Human body above roughly ankle-height - brilliant, small details that lend the story a significant degree of charm. In other areas however, your descriptions fall short - in particular I was disappointed with your summation of the Ghinites' civilization and city, which was essentially described as 'lots of goo.'

Perhaps the most criminal example of that might be your description of the pad Akheria was reading near the start, which was almost literally described as 'a plate of goo with goo indentations for reading.' Are these creatures blind? WAre the indentations a different color, or is there some form of electromagnetic perception going on? I have no idea. If I had to guess I would say you got a bit caught up in the novelty of the concept and so were unable to wholly elaborate upon the nuance of the setting. My recommendation in this case is simply to use multiple variations upon a same theme if you find yourself constantly describing several details or elements with uniform or else highly simplified natures.

The Silver Bullet

As per usual, your entry is almost wholly devoid of any kind of technical errors of any kind. You also easily pass the challenge criteria, condensing everything into a straightforward three-act ensemble. My only real criticism is that perhaps you compressed everything a bit too much, and that the story is perhaps a bit too straightforward. The most interesting parts of the story are the expository segments in the second act (sound familiar?), which in all seriousness you probably could have omitted entirely and still passed - and as such there is a lot of wasted potential within the story itself.

The story was expertly wrought, modestly engaging, and masterfully executed. There just is not much there to get invested in though. You might recall that you passed the Fourth Labour with your world of Supers setting using a highly similar, highly compressed story that was brief and consisted mostly of exposition. The primary difference between the two stories is their context - the first used the relatively simple setting as a framework to perfectly accentuate the point of the story, while in this one the setting all feels like extraneous and unnecessary fluff. Not unappreciated, but perhaps not utilized in a wholly appropriate fashion.

Game of Thrones Inspired NRP (Accepting one more!)

Been working on mine.

You should have it in a day or two.

Glad to see Thammek features again.

Game of Thrones Inspired NRP (Accepting one more!)

My only gripe was that it totally could work. . .

@DeadBeatWalking

The Twelve Labours: General Discussion

Down to the wire, it would seem.

TTL: The Ninth Labour

The Stories:

Pawn Take King

"Pawn Take King"

Smoky. A wisp of twisting fumes, writhing up to the stagnant air. It escaped from the smoldering tip of a white tube being thrusted into the grey ashes. The mood was grunge, a heavy emotional drain upon the soul as the dim lighting above shone upon the onyx and marble squares inlaid in the table. Gold trimmed the edges of the board, gilded in the fine beaten luster over the dark mahogany wood. The drumming of fingers, tapping into the side of the eternal plane, waiting for the next move to come. There was no timer, no methodical passing of turns against the grains of sand or ticking gears. There was no hand which clicked the buzzer to signal the next move as the clinking ice slowly rolled around in the whiskey neat. Another puff of smoke, another sip of drink, look up at the television screen rolling in the evening news, relax at the table for time here has no end.

The battle was a deadlock, barely having begun and already grinding down to become to a standstill. Holding their positions upon the board the carved bones whittled away to resemble their roles. The skeletal pieces set in rows before beginning their danse macabre of burned bones upon bleached ones. Two pawns, insignificant henchmen, leapt forward for their king and queen, and in reply, a single pawn moved away for a sly queen’s bishop to swoop in to snatch away the pawn in the center cross by covering the awaiting knight. It was a game of grandmasters, as they titans towered over the broad deciding the fates of others. A White hand moved his king’s bishop moved behind the advanced pawns forming the rudimentary backbone of chess. Elementary as it was, this game had a particular twist, and so as a black hand offered the king’s pawn a victory over own another pawn which was prodded into the fray at center from the foot of the dark king’s bishop. Now deep in contemplation of the worth of this obvious trap, the real the battle begins. An inhale, and out comes the thick smoke.

How fragile was life? Like a withered leaf it clings desperately on the twigs to brace itself against the winter storm. Therein man finds the sad truth of our limited time, and wish to leave behind a legacy as proof of worth. Some find it in fame, to be renowned for one’s accomplishments, but mere utterances are echoes of the past, and portraits mere shadows of life. Thus how far would one go to challenge the inevitable? How can you outwit Death? Certainly not with a knight, for death had ridden at his side long ago…

The beer mug had shattered. Dropped from a limp hand, and papers knocked over to the floor. An unfinished burger, still warm on the plate of cheesy fries loaded with ketchup. Natural causes, they said, as paramedics came to roll over the large man. Or was it? For moments ago he was alive, devouring his last meal ravenously while reading the news. As an older man, possibly in his mid-sixties, who had still patronized a dying information industry it was only natural that he was selected. Bound to die within ten years give or take, had he not choked on a chunk of meat and bun far too large to swallow. Yet, he lived through this as some quick rescuer preformed the Heimlich in time, ejecting the meal and saving the old accountant from death by asphyxiation. And yet the excitement of it all, wore out his heart. A brush with death, which would lead to death itself. For with a thud, he collapsed, his heart failing as the glass dropped and spilled the cold beverage over the flutter of newsprint.

“So, who was he to you?” A voice from the shadows asked the smoking man. Like a heavy sigh through ancient catacombs, dry and whispered, tired even of the game as Death watched his own masterpiece. Taking the pawn was merely the bait to draw this fool closer into the game as the shadows swirled around their table. The pale lager had stained the sections of the papers save for one, one that death smiled at most as personal pride. The obituaries of course were left untouched as the player in black returned to the table for his turn with a newspaper tucked under his arm. Black suits Death, after all, and with this game where the pieces were lives, who would you sacrifice? A lover? A brother? A friend? A close associate? How much would you give so that you may attempt to escape me? Nothing escapes me. No one escapes me.

Silent as ever though the smoking man, dressed in his lounge suit burning his smokes away like between his fingers as he takes the pawn exchange and calmly allows Death’s bishop to sneak past his line and strike into the heart of his formation. His rook now exposed to the threat cut across the diagonal as center gave way. To lose another friend, perhaps a father or brother of all things now. But alas forgiveness comes at the price of guilt. And this mortal wraps his fingers around his darling queen without a word to answer my question. Who was he to deny Death? For this I shall take his queen next for now he has threatened me with her. To put me into check, was to offend me.
His pawn to banish my pawn which had blocked forth his marked queen. It mattered not for I had nothing to lose but his soul. Yes, and I would trade all my pieces for his death for having the nerve to challenge me in a game like this. This was no movie nor play, nor was it a book to be told like a fairy tale, no one challenges Death and lives to tell of it! I move my knight, an old friend who shall now threaten his white queen. Who will she be? Who did he risk to save his own worthless hide? Let him come and lose all his pieces and perhaps then it would be more merciful for me to watch him beg for death.

There she was, and I looked upon her with my pitiless eyes like an artist would a canvas. Her skin already white as the marble gravestones I fill, her veins clearly visible as she relaxed in her warm bathwater. Her wet hair a fiery red, scarlet like precious rubies woven in slickened locks. How my opponent had selected such a ravishing queen to for me to ravage as my icy hand grazed itself upon her shoulder. I had to witness her personally, this death I shall savour second to his own. Her eyes could not see me, though she shivered at my touch, quivering and shuddering as my fingertips walked down her collar bone as I wrung my hands around her neck. Oh yes, her sweet gasps music to my ears as I strangled the life out of her, the convulsions of her body writhing against my own as I took her. Darkness fell upon the room. They would see it as an accident, those to rush in to find her lifeless body submerged in the flooding bathtub. A faulty circuit, electrocution, a mystery of chance akin to being struck down by lightning. Yet they forgot that lightning once was seen as divine justice. Thus am I: Death.

Though as I returned, I found my opponent smiling, even as my knight executed his queen in trade for a mere pawn now ripe for reaping before my King’s rook. His smile mocked me as I looked into his heart, his failing heart which dared to laugh at me with each heartbeat. He had gone mad perhaps, as the liquor has gone to his brain, or perhaps the smoke which he had breathed in and out for the past few days. And yet, it seemed he knew something which had escaped me, something I had overseen. Why did he not flee before my knight? Did he care not for his queen? The women he loved so dearly?

Then I saw it. For I was just as blind as I had silently taunted him for letting me slip into his ranks with my bishop. He now does the same with his own. The game was his now as he proclaimed checkmate. For his bishop had ran over to threaten my king who I had unwittingly blockaded in. No room to breathe nor move, and certainly now nowhere to run. No such piece had I to stop the inevitable, and the pieces on the board remained untouched as I, Death itself, was cheated out of certain victory. Had I forgotten how vile and despicable these mortals may become? To offer up an innocent soul to me in order to save their own worthless lives? And as my opponent chuckled away and drank the last of his liquor, I had to ask: “Who was she?”

“Someone I loved, but she belongs to another. It was her husband that shot me, and left me here for you to clean up. This game was just my last way to get back at him, for all he had done to me. He stole her from me long ago, and told her lies of how I didn't love her. For if I couldn’t have her in life, I figured you’d be so kind as to reunite me with her in death. So go on Death, in the spirit of the game, let Pawn Take King.”

With that, he threw his head back, and closed his eyes, as I in fury swept my hand across the board. The bone pieces flew across before vanishing into the air, the board disappeared as I leapt at him in rage. With one last drag he extinguished his smoldering cigarette, he too evaporated into the smoky haze. And so He had cheated me twice. Once for his own life, and twice for another.

The Song

By @WiseDragonGirl.

The song

Evening fell over the city of Arnheim, as the light of the sun faded people ignited candles or oil lanterns in their homes. While most people headed towards home, tomorrow would be another day of work after all, those who had no obligations at home or at sunrise chose to spend the evening in one of the many taverns.

Two people walked alongside of each other. The taller, black-haired man wore the fine clothes of a nobleman. The other had chestnut-coloured hair, he wore simple and worn-out travelling clothes and he carried a lute on his back. Mikhal, the travelling bard, knew Lemitsa for a couple of years now and regarded him a friend. Even if the somewhat cold and distant nobleman didn’t show it, he too considered Mikhal as a friend, despite him being of lower class.

Like others they walked up to one of the taverns in town, laughter filled the street as Lemitsa pushed the door open. The bar-room was lit by oil lanterns, the smell of burning oil mixed with beer and sweat was a common one for places like these, even if it wasn’t the most the pleasant of smells. At least it was a smell they would adjust to easily, unlike the stench in the crypt just outside the city with the Liador, the carnivorous monkey-like creatures who lived there. That foul smell was impossible to get used to, no matter how long you would stay down there, with the proper precautions of course, those ferocious creatures had killed many people. He knew this, because he had been down there himself one day, with Mikhal.

“Do you think the father of lady Catheryn will be impressed with the amount of coins you collected so far?” Lemitsa asked as they walked through the bar-room.

“I can only hope, I did my best.” Mikhal walked up to the bar and ordered two beers. As the bartender put two mugs on the bar, he turned to face his friend again. “I will go there tomorrow and ask for her hand in marriage.”

The bartended pushed the two mugs with beer towards them. “I wish you the best of luck, Mikhal. If you manage to do that, you’ll achieve what hardly any commoner can: marry a noble.” He watched the young man smile to that. “When will you start?”

“Allow me to smooth my throat with your fine ale and then I will sing for your customers, as agreed.”

With a nod of his head the bartender gave his approval and the two friends walked towards one of the tables to sit, talk and drink a beer together. Lemitsa hardly drank anything as they talked, but Mikhal had little problems with finishing the mug, he was thirsty.

“You have hardly drunk at all,” Mikhal mentioned as he looked inside Lemitsa’s mug.

“I do not enjoy the taste of this cheap beer,” Lemitsa answered with a shrug. He turned around in his chair and tapped on an in green velvet covered shoulder. “Anthony, take this one. It is my treat.”

Anthony, another noble, turned around to face Lemitsa, his face showed the redness of someone who had a beer too many. “Thank you kindly,” he slurred as he took the mug. “Cheers!” He took a big gulp from the mug and turned back to his friends.

“That is friendly of you,” Mikhal said as he looked at Anthony’s back, “although I am not certain it was wise to give your beer to someone who obviously had his share of drinks already.” He noticed how Lemitsa shrugged to that. “Are you close with him?” He knew Anthony, but only from face and reputation. As far as he had heard, Anthony and his family had a good reputation and a decent amount of money, but status-wise they stood below Lemitsa and his family.

“Truthfully,” Lemitsa said as he leaned over to the table and lowered his voice. “I cannot stand him. But let that not be a concern to you.” He showed a smile. “When you sing, will you sing your ode to king Han again? I like that song.”

As Mikhal took his lute he nodded to Lemitsa. “Of course, let me start with it.”

Lemitsa watched Mikhal stand up and take a place between tables with a smirk. “Please do,” he muttered. He glanced towards the side where a few Royal Knights sat. Perfect. He turned his attention back to Mikhal who played the strings of the lute to produce a simple but happy melody.

“There once was a leader, a glorious man,
the wise and the fair and the noble king Han.
His reign had brought peace and prospe-”

Before he could even finish the first verse he had to duck to avoid a mug of beer that was thrown at his head. He looked at the man who rose to his feet and pointed a stubby finger at him.

“No king ever d-deserved to have their own sssong,” Anthony slurred. “Bringing p-peace and p-prosperity? Kings are g-good for nnnothing expect collecting taxes!”

“If that’s how you feel,” Lemitsa whispered to Anthony, “maybe we need to stand up against our king?”

“We hhhave to ssstand up against our king!” Anthony exclaimed. “Down with the king!”

As Lemitsa expected, the Royal Knights wouldn’t stand for that. They came up to Anthony, but he turned towards them and called them puppets and evil swordsman working for an evil king, suppressing his freedom to have an opinion. As one of them took his arm, he spat in the knight’s face. The knights were now adamant to take away and with force if they had to. He struggled and cursed, but he was no match for the knights and they took him with them. The common people all looked at each other, unsure what just happened. The people of nobility who had shared the table with Anthony looked worried, a noble being arrested for speaking about a king like that would have consequences for the nobleman himself, his family and his friends. A careless drunk statement could have a big impact on his and their status and it was uncertain how far this event would carry in their ranks.

“Mikhal!” the bartender said to the baffled bard. “Please finish your wonderful song.”

By that request Mikhal seemed to regain his composure and he started over.

"There once was a leader, a glorious man,
the wise and the fair and the noble king Han.
His reign had brought peace and prosperity for all,
from the oldest to the youngest, the tall and the small.

People were jealous and wanted his wealth,
they tried to get closer through force and through stealth.
No man was able to touch the good king
for he could take on what any foe could bring.

None was more cunning, more clever or smart,
the swing of his sword was a form of art.
And the mighty king Han had men on his side,
all loyal and strong and they stood there with pride.

His foes did he conquer, his foes found defeat,
the king could sit down on his ivory seat.
The glorious leader, a victor once more,
his men erupted in a praising galore.

Here comes the tale of king Han to an end,
for always remembered by foe and by friend."

As the customers clapped for the song, Mikhal bowed to them and he started another song. After five more songs he collected some coins from the people and he returned to the table where Lemitsa still sat.

“Let us go,” Lemitsa suggested. “You can stay at my place again.”

Mikhal nodded and followed his friend outside. The city was a lot more quiet at this time of the evening and he looked up at the star-lit sky. “It is a shame what happened to your friend.”

“I told you, Anthony is not a friend.”

“Indeed you told me,” Mikhal said as he frowned at Lemitsa. “Why exactly did you want to hear the Ode to king Han again?”

Letmitsa didn’t answer to that, but the pleased smile was all Mikhal needed to see.

“You gave him more beer so he would be properly drunk when he would hear that song and you know how he feels about our king. You knew how he would react.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You do not care how people think about our king, you just wanted him arrested and punished, because you do not like him.”

“You are a smart man, no wonder I can see you as a friend, but that is not all.” Lemitsa looked at Mikhal. “His upcoming wedding with lady Margareta would push his status closer to my own, I did not like that idea. And I wish to court his sister, but he does not approve. Now I can do as I please.”

“What about lady Trialca?”

“I got bored of her, we are not together anymore.”

Mikhal stared at Lemitsa. “This is the second time you used me to get what you want! Did you ever consider this could have a serious impact on me? What if he or his father will blame me and my song for this? Do you know much a noble can hurt a commoner? Did you even consider that if his family will come after me it could damage my chances with lady Catheryn?”

“Of course I considered all that.”

“And still you did this? You set this scheme up for your own personal gain and you used me for it? This is not how friends should behave! I should-“

“What? You should what? Go to the sheriff and tell him about this? Do you think the word of a common man weighs up to the word of a noble? I will tell the sheriff I had nothing to do with the unfortunate incident and he will believe me. And I will tell you this: before we went to the tavern I told my friends I do not like your simplistic ode to a fictional king and since it was the bartender who requested you to finish the song, people will assume that if the song had been requested and not chosen by you, he will be the one who requested it.” Lemtisa looked at Mikhal with a smirk. “You have no proof I set this up.”

“But you did! If you planned around my song so well, I know you planned to have Anthony in the same tavern as some Royal Knights when we were there, and you know about Anthony’s drinking habits! Nobles can overlook the drinking, even if they do not agree with it, but they cannot overlook this.” Mikhal let out a resigned sign. “But I have no proof,” he agreed unwillingly.

The smirk made way for a more serious look and he nodded. “You are correct when you say you have no proof,” Lemitsa stated.

It was bitter to admit it, but Lemitsa was right, there was no way he could go to the sheriff and explain what happened when things would go down-hill because of the event. Lemitsa would make his life even more miserable. Now he was just collateral damage, if he would be the target of Lemitsa’s scheme he would be crushed. If he wanted to avoid that, he had to remain silent about this. And not just that, Lemitsa was a friend and even though he pulled stunts like this, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. Lemitsa had been a good friend to him in the past, a real friend and not materialistic, and he valued his friendship with him. He didn’t want to lose that too.

They stopped walking and looked at each other. “I used you,” Lemitsa finally said. “That is what I do, I use people around me for my own benefit. You know that. Maybe it is wise to reconsider your friendship with me.” He nodded a greeting. “I wish you a good night, Mikhal.” With that, Lemitsa walked away, leaving Mikhal behind to deal with the results of his action.

Just Take A Stroll

By @PlatinumSkink.

Just Take A Stroll

'You're cured,' the doctor told him, the middle-aged white-bearded face holding a light smile as he spoke the fateful words.

The individual who had been spoken to stared in confusion at the doctor. Aaron was a tall and scrawny black-haired young man who looked like he'd fall over from a gust of wind, and right now he sat unblinking like melded into the chair which he was sitting on. He was... cured?

'H-how?' he asked, stunned and unbelievably relieved. 'They all said it was terminal. How is it possible that I'm...?' Awe, confusion and bubbling joy all intermingled in the strangest of ways in his voice. Doctor Hogan, a slightly wide man in white clothing with a retreating white hairline and a decimetre of white fluffy beard, nodded understandingly at the young man.

'It's a new prototype treatment,' he told the boy, looking proud of him. 'It isn't licensed yet, and there may be unforeseen side-effects, but your condition was grave enough that we decided to try it. We'll need to call you in to monitor you then and there for a while to ensure you're scot-free, but there's no sign of the bacteria still in your body. You're effectively cured.' The doctor nodded at him. 'Congratulations. You're free to go.'

Aaron sank back in his chair, daring to smile. His life, which he had already given up on, had been given a new miraculous chance. A new treatment. He couldn't believe it. That was so...

'Th-thank you, thank you so much, doctor,' he said, looking forward at him still in disbelief. The doctor just raised his hand, palm forward, to inform him that it was alright.

'I really should apologize. We weren't really allowed to administer this treatment, but we couldn't just let you go without trying all we had,' the doctor told, smiling at him. Aaron breathed out in relief, his mind blank. He had assumed this was the end. What would he do, now? He'd given up all his plans for the future. It didn't really matter. First, he'd have to tell his whole family. Then, he'd find something. He was cured.

'That said, there is one thing that I'd like you to do for me,' the doctor said, still smiling at him. Aaron blinked a little at that statement. Did doctors usually ask things of their patients? But, he really wasn't in a position to deny, so...

'A-anything within my power, sir!' Aaron responded, feeling slightly uncertain about this, but this was the man who had saved his life, after all.

'Good!' the doctor exclaimed, standing up. 'Come with me!'

______________________________________________________

Aaron stared into the grey, square room. There was nothing in it. It was totally empty. Just a grey, cubical room, that didn't seem to contain anything. It was extremely flat. Just the way in, which was one of those filled with equipment made to ensure a scientist was extremely clean before entering with a sealing door by the end of it, but the doctor hadn't made him use any of it and just left the door completely open. He turned his head and looked questioningly at the doctor, who after having opened the door had gotten himself seated behind a row of computers which were facing away from Aaron in the room behind him.

'Just take a stroll,' Hogan instructed, nodding with a smile at his patient. This... had to be something for his treatment, Aaron figured. He had to assume the room was lined with sensory equipment on the outside, and he was to walk inside it to check for health-issues? If there had been something dangerous in here, the doctor wouldn't have left the door wide-open like that. Something felt weird about this, but if it was just a stroll, then he could do that. His over-active imagination imagined the door would close behind him and he'd be locked away forever for an evil scientist's devices, but what the heck. Aaron decided to trust his faith in humanity.

So, with that thought out, he lifted his foot, and took his first step into the grey, cubical room.

______________________________________________________

Many Ghinitian miles from there, there was a city. A city comprised of buildings made of bright transparent goo in all the colours of the rainbow. The city spread out as far as the eye could see, and way beyond that. The city was built on a landscape of white semi-translucent matter, which looked like some form of jelly that probably could be perfectly shaped by just picking it up and shaping it with the use of hands. And, if the buildings were of any indication, this was true. The perfectly ordered buildings were of many different colours compared to the stale, white landscape, but otherwise it looked like they were comprised of the same material that had just been shaped into more-or-less rectangular structures with odd spherical deformities here and there. Inside these buildings and everywhere around them, were Ghinites.

Ghinites were slime-like creatures, seemingly composed of green semi-solid liquid that was kept upright by their own cellular structure. To move, they simply slid along the surface below them, their fluids making a rolling motion under them like they were all on treads. They had organs, a brain that kept them operating, a nerve-system to send around their brain's commands and a centre that contained digestive fluids contained in their bodies. On their front of their bodies, there were two, huge circles right next to one another of paler green that were lit up by their sensory organs, which qualified for being their eyes.

The streets of the city were littered with them, Ghinites drawing themselves back and forth across it. Smaller blobs of green followed their mothers as they slid down crossroads. The streets in the middle were reserved for rolling, a seemingly faster way of travelling for those who dared make themselves into a ball and roll. Larger Ghinites mixed in on the roads, carrying wares in their middles which were to be moved to the population at large, mostly salvaged food or processed building-jelly for construction. All in all, it was a functional society, as far as the eye could see.

In a nearby tower, Akheria stood, as per that could be described. She stood in her own room in her own stable fluid tower in front of a desk made of the same substance. She was reading information from a tablet comprised of even more of the same glued-together organisms, the words on the tablet having been shaped by someone simply moving the organisms on it to form indents shaped like the letters of their alphabet. Herself, she didn't visually look any different from the rest of her species. They were all very similar pieces of translucent green sticky matter with two lit-up spherical spots for eyes that'd likely look creepy to a human, but any other Ghinite could easily recognize one another by the taste of the matter each was subconsciously giving off. And Akheria's in particular, was easily recognizable for being quite bitter.

'Akheria, you called for me?' Another Ghinite, somewhat larger yet slimmer, bubbled out in their unique language created by the sounds made by moving and splashing together their gelatinous bodies at ”mouths” which were recreated every time they were to speak, made possible by the absolute control they had of all the liquid in their bodies.

'Bohkon. I've called you to discuss the matter of leaving this place,' she informed, glaring forward at him. Ghinites don't sigh, but noticeably relaxing their structure to sink down in height and spread out along their edges meant pretty much the same thing.

'This, again, Akheria? You know we can't even if we wanted to,' he said. Akheria was not satisfied. She used her body's structure to form an outstretched limb, with which she shoved the tablet she had been reading towards Bohkon.

'Our population is swelling, but only because of food provided to us by the Adidas,' she told him. The Adidas, as the Ghinites called them, regularly supplied them all the nutrients they needed to survive and grow. But... 'We're a society completely based around food which we cannot procure ourselves. It's how it has always been, and nobody questions it. Bohkon, shouldn't we-'

'Akheria, don't suggest this to an audience,' Bohkon interupted her, a hint of warning in his ”voice”. 'Our population has grown into billions, everybody's happy, nobody even bothers to think of the outside world. Why would you?' he inquired, glaring right back. Akheria looked unhappily back at him, grabbing another tablet by her jelly desk and presented it to him.

'Because just a few mimillions ago, our population was threatened with extinction by the Zoroan invasion. We had our scientists working non-stop, until we FINALLY found the means to kill them,' she told him, her irritation coming through, and she saw Bohkon sink together once again. 'Those came from outside,' she continued. 'The same way our food comes in. I believe the Adidas sent them at us.'

'Akheria, the Adidas gave us things to help us research their demise along with the next shipment of food! They helped us!' Bohkon informed, pretending this was new information, just to state the obvious to this obviously delusional miss.

But if so, then why did they not just kill the Zoroans themselves? Why not give us the done weapons, and not the means to research a countermeasure? Was it a test?

Akheria grew silent. Then there was the fact their supply of the weapons had been extracted by what only she could assume were the Adidas after the war was only stranger. What did they have for use of that? She had a few theories, but with all likelihood, they could be attacked again.

'Regardless, such an attack could come again. And the next time, we might not be so lucky,' she argued. Bohkon just stared back at her, unconvinced.

'… ”Regardless”, we can't leave. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a giant wall in the way. Even the noted ”Black Wall”, different from the rest of the wall, seals us out perfectly. But you know that. There's a reason you made your way to become mayor of the Black Wall District, isn't it? Because it's rumoured to ”disappear” at times...'

Bohkon was exactly right. Of course, Akheria hadn't mentioned this intention during her rise to power. It'd have severely hurt her chances. She had specifically moved here after the Zoroan war for the sake of getting to put scientists on experimenting on ways to get past the Black Wall, so far in vain. Now it was Akheria's turn to sink together a bit.

'… But, if we, as a species, make a unified effort, then we can-'

'Mayor Akheria!' a separate voice sounded out across the room from a tube sticking in from the wall, made from a similar gelatinous substance as the wall but in a shade of dark green. This tube transmitted vibrations especially well, and the tube reached down into the landscape and could therefore be used for communication on a long distance. Of course, just talking into it you had no idea if there was anyone on the other side, that was always a gamble. Bohkon and Akheria both looked over, noting the panic in the voice. Akheria quickly slid over, linking her own body to the tube so to transmit her own words.

'Report,' she demanded, as concisely as possible, the message sent along the tube to the other side.

'Th-the Black Wall, it's gone!' … That was quite the announcement. Elation filled Akheria, and she could pretty much feel Bohkon flinching in the background.

'Get the exploration team ready! Get them there immediately! I don't care what they're currently doing, I want them there!'

'Y-yes, ma'am! B-but, there's something odd,' the other side told, making Akheria listen attentively. 'It looks like something might be intending to-' The line suddenly grew silent. Akheria did wonder what had happened, but she wasn't given a lot of time to consider it.

At first, she just felt the sheer force of it. A loud boom, and the force of it grabbing onto her gelatinous form. She almost jumped, her fluids just barely sticking to the floor. The sound had come from behind her, in the middle of her district. An outcry of panic and despair from thousands of Ghinites sounded out, the warning alarm of their kind raised everywhere from different buildings. Agitated, Akheria launched herself from the wall where she had been talking over to the open window, desperate to see the cause of this.

Something had descended straight down onto their city. Something impossibly large. All she could see from here was the extremely large white wall curving around her city quarters. The... the wall was moving. It appeared to have a mostly flat underside, but it had descended on an angle to hit an edge, so now it was periodically crashing down the rest of its mass, crushing the panicked Ghinitian district. It had already squashed the houses and lives of thousands of unsuspecting Ghinites, and as it was rolling forward it squashed thousands more, their cries of panic cut short but to be replaced by the cries of so many others.

Akheria was stunned. This was... this was impossible. The way that thing moved... It was solid. It wasn't gelatinous. It was just like the walls that contained them to this world, entirely solid and impossibly large. Except... it was unmistakeably alive. She looked up. Above the white rim of what had smashed into their city, a blue colour replaced it and ascended beyond the height which she or any Ghinite could clearly see. But, at the very limit of what she could see, there was a comparatively small but still absolutely giant shiny object attached to it, and on it was a symbol that she could not read, but still she could discern two symbols of unknown kind.

”BK”.

______________________________________________________

Aaron had placed down his right foot inside the room. Yeah, it was solid. He hadn't fallen through the floor or anything. A normal, if empty, room. What's up? He gave a questioning look back at the doctor.

'Go on, go in!' Hogan smiled and encouraged brightly. Was it Aaron's imagination, or was he smiling wider than he had before? It felt a little creepy. Aaron wasn't sure what the occasion was for smiling so widely. Eh, suppose there was nothing else to it, then? Aaron shrugged and lifted his other foot and took his second step into the room, before shifting his weight over to his left foot so that he could lift his right, beginning a normal stroll through the room.

______________________________________________________

'A-AKHERIA!' Bohkon called her attention in a panic as she watched the giant unidentified object lift itself up, the object bending as the rear part of it lifted first before the whole thing lifted from the crushed district. She stared at the strangely patterned underside of it. Miraculously enough, that pattern had saved the lives of many Ghinites that had happened to be between the cracks, but many, many more had their fragile bodies and buildings squashed by the massive object's descent. And now... it was continuing further into their city-society. Ghinitians were fleeing in panic in the streets, not sure where to go. What... what was she to do? This wasn't like the Zoroans, they could hurt the Zoroans. This... this was...

'AKHERIA!' Bokhon called out again, this time lightly tackling her from the side to get her attention, which he immediately got as she winced at his impact. After having blankly stared at him for a few moments wondering what he was on about, it quickly occurred to her.

'Right. War map,' she confirmed, and both then immediately took off, sinking their organs into their bodies so their outer parts could swiftly roll through the building without trouble, down the slopes into the basement. The basement was placed inside the white mass that was their landscape, still above the grey absolute ground of the room they were forced to inhabit. Down here, was a map of their city divided into sectors.

Slated on a table, this was a map divided into dark-green squares. Their city was divided into 19 by 19 pieces, each column represented by a number and each row by a Ghinitian letter. A few of the tiles were lit up in yellow by light from underneath. They represented where the things were located right now. The operators were fast. This map had been used during the Zoroan wars to track the movements of the enemy, connected by tubes going under the white mass along the entire land, linked with all other similar maps. When something changed on one, it transmitted and did the same change to the other maps. And of course, there were tubes for vocal communication, too. Not hesitating, Akheria spun forward and linked herself to a tube to get access to the network.

'There's two of them!?' She heard the mayor of... some district exclaim. It was difficult to remember all of them, they were so similar. Indeed, there appeared to be two places where the giant objects were settling down. However, they were in a straight line. And... one vanished. Before appearing on the other side of the one remaining, brightening up two squares.

'E6, E7,' an operator announced as those squares lit up, making Akheria shiver a bit thinking of all those who lived in those grids. That was no small sum.

'City-line E is being evacuated,' someone said. Not good enough, Akheria thought. Even if it was moving along the E-line, it would soon reach a wall. What would it do, then?

'… KHAA-' one voice screamed out, before suddenly being silenced. 'E10, E11...,' a different voice informed, and it was quite clear what had just happened to one person who had been attending the map. Akheria did her best to just ignore it. Bohkon stood ready by her in case she needed something quick. Appreciated, but Akheria needed something else. Judging by this...

'It's bipedal,' she stated.

'What?' someone asked from the other side. Time to explain this concept, Akheria figured. As Ghinites that drag their whole body forward in a semi-liquid state, this was a bit tricky.

'It's a theory among scientists, about how larger solid life-forms would move,' she explained. Solid life-forms was a strange concept to a Ghinite, but. 'Essentially, they already have two or more solid limbs which they were born with, and they use these to move forward by-'

'E14, F15,' an operator warned, reminding that there wasn't time for a long explanation.

'I-it's a single life-form!' Akheria skipped the details. 'And we can assume it has no idea we're here! It's too big to see us! We just need to move out the way!' she called out. There were sounds of agreement and then questions of what to do next. Suddenly, Akheria had somehow been placed in charge of the operation. Yeah, it really seemed like it had no idea they were there.

But then, why is it here!?

______________________________________________________

But then, why am I here?

Aaron threw another look at the doctor sitting behind a monitor past the door while he could. He had now walked straight through the room to the other side, stopping a little by the wall. The doctor hadn't revealed any reason for why he was taking this stroll. If he was being exposed to something, then why was the door wide-open? If it was just a check-up if he could walk, then why inside this room? Given the cleaning-hallway, this was clearly a room intended for scientific purpose, and he was walking in here with his dirty shoes with the security-lock wide-open. Guess that meant this room wasn't in use?

Maybe he was thinking too much. It was just a stroll. The doctor surely knew what he was doing. Would be so horrible if the doctor didn't know what he was doing, so it was a lot more comfortable to simply act like he did. With that, Aaron shook off all other thoughts currently inhabiting his mind, plotted out a course for walking around the room via the wall, and took his next step.

______________________________________________________

The huge object with a strangely patterned underside fell down from the sky once again. The sheer shock-wave of force and escaping air underneath it levelled buildings on its own, but the underside of the object slammed straight into Ghinitian city, squashing an unfathomably large area of populated rural space, ending thousands of helpless Ghinitian lives. However, Akheria wouldn't see it. 'F17, G17.' Those words and two small panels that lit up was all she got to confirm the coordinates of the city-grids that had been destroyed. The whole experience... was so surreal...

'… And you wanted OUT THERE, where THOSE THINGS live...?' Bohkon inquired with angry victory. … His assumption about her thoughts was mistaken. She still wanted out, especially if this could happen in here on bad days! They could do nothing to stop it! At least, out there, maybe they could find a place to hide, depending on how the real world actually looks like!

'Not now,' Akheria told Bohkon, this was so not the right time for such an argument. … It was turning. It was approaching the wall on the other side, turning and starting to move alongside the wall...

'… Evacuate people the people to along the walls! Things that large cannot get too close to the walls!' she commanded, and the messages were transmitted throughout the city. Acknowledgements were heard, and shouting started on the other sides. She heard more coordinates from the operators. It was... moving alongside but with a set distance away from the wall. Ghinites were going to die regardless of what measures they took, but she could save as many as possible.

'… Get people away from city-lines 16-17, C-D, 3-4 and P-Q!' Akheria demanded, seeing that the steps were turning to walk along that particular line, that fixed distance away from the wall...

______________________________________________________

… Clever little bastards. Doctor Hogan sat, watching his monitors displaying the current numbers on the little creatures as Aaron walked around inside the room. Already, the tiny beings had started moving in huge masses to place themselves alongside the walls where he wouldn't walk, and they also seemed to somehow know where he was heading despite their short sensory-range. Like directed by a voice of reason, the Ghinites moved to avoid being stepped on, despite the seeming impossibility of that. Still, thousands of their numbers were being crushed with each step despite the best of their efforts. They were simply too many to get away scot-free.

Ghinites. Such ridiculous creatures. So tiny they cannot be seen with a naked eye, yet intelligent enough to rival humans at their best. With but the means at hand, a white semi-solid landscape created by what their own stomachs leave behind after eating, they created a whole complex society with absurd technology using said landscape. And with that, they had somehow cured the disease which Hogan had worked his entire life trying to cure. The same disease which would have killed Aaron if it wasn't for them.

Hogan's expression twitched a bit as the numbers of squashed Ghinites increased with the next step of Aaron's. It should have been his glory. Sure, that the disease was cured was nice and all, yay for health. But he had been so close. Hogan had been so close to curing it himself, give it two or three weeks more. Then these little creatures were introduced to the disease, and they invented a cure within a matter of days. DAYS. The disease did threaten their entire civilization, so they had a bit more incentive to research, yes. But they made Hogan appear like a complete fool, wasting so much valuable time and money on something that eventually turned out to have been a waste. His reputation and pride had taken a painful blow. There was a horrible annoyance that travelled through Hogan's veins from what had happened. An anger, a hatred...

Still, he was a mature adult and could act like one. So he was one-upped by tiny creatures that don't even remotely matter in the grand scale of things. Big deal. He could move on and focus on new things. But first, he saw it as his own personal privilege to have a little vengeance. To see them crushed by one of the very souls that they had helped save the life of. Of course, neither side knew that the Ghinites had helped save Aaron's life, but... Hm, a lot of them seemed to be gathering in that corner...

'Hey, Aaron!' Hogan grinned as he looked in at Aaron, who by now had walked a whole lap around the room. The young man stopped and looked questioningly at him. 'Could you do me a favour and step as deeply into the corner behind you as you can?'

Aaron looked behind him. There was a nondescript corner, the floor as grey as anywhere. Was he aiming for something? After having frowned a bit, Aaron turned and put a hand on the wall, balancing himself as he placed his foot down as close as he could to the corner in question, squeezing it into the square walls. Nothing happened. The young man looked questioningly at the doctor once again, who beamed back at him happily.

'Wonderful! That'll do. You can come back now,' doctor Hogan said, nodding with a satisfied smile. Aaron felt reasonably perplexed, but shrugged as he turned to walk back to the door.

______________________________________________________

'S... 19...' a broken voice announced, and all Ghinites connected by the system stared helplessly at their maps. Akheria couldn't say anything, staring down powerlessly at the glowing panel in the corner. She had been so sure. So sure she had read its pattern. But... this seemed too deliberate. It really felt like it had identified the closest concentration of Ghinites, and intentionally squashed down on it. There had been millions of lives in that square. Millions. Not even Bohkon could find the words to berate her, because she had clearly tried her best to save them, but... Reason did not help them now. Not if it was intentionally aiming for them. Then it didn't work. Nothing worked.

'R17, R18,' she heard someone say. … Huh. That was a comparatively small step, Akheria's dulled mind noted. That's new. It had always taken so large steps before.

'Q14, Q15,' was the next coordinates she heard. Akheria immediately realized. The small step was to turn. It's heading back.

'Evacuate the line between Q14 and E1! It's heading back to the Black Wall!' she shouted out, and immediately she heard scurrying on the other sides. However, another priority quickly occurred to her. There was no way in blotboil she could let this pass her by!

'I'm sorry, I'm taking this,' Akheria quickly stated as she reached with a green limb and stuck it into Bohkon's side. Bohkon, who had been completely focused on the map, was extremely unprepared for this sudden moment. He inevitable yelped in panic and threw himself backwards away from her. He did so way too late, though.

'Wh-whawat-!?' Bohkon stared at her in surprised panic where Akheria now took the bit of green slime she had taken from him and melded it into herself with a determined Ghinitian expression. His reaction was really natural, she had just dipped in and taken something directly from his genes. That is, what she needed from him in order to reproduce. Having taken what she needed, in a manner highly illegal by Ghinitian law, Akheria spun around. She had no intention of letting Bohkon recover in time.

'AKHERIA! WAIT!' Bohkon screamed after her, most likely realizing what she was about to do. She gave him nothing.

She pulled herself in tightly, letting her organs focus in the middle while lifting herself up to become sphere-like. Now... she needed speed. She began rolling, starting out rather slow due to having to roll up the slopes out of the basement, but eventually she came out on the streets. They were almost empty. Everybody had fled, leaving only those gathered in the map-room. A speaker connected to a tube way over there was shouting out guidelines for evacuation, the last citizens moving in panic to get out the way. However, Akheria had another goal in mind.

According to her calculations, judging by the length of its steps and the speed of their movement, he'd appear... THERE! Having judged a likely location, Akheria took off. Her body rolled around her, her eyes having been drawn in so to still be able to see outwards through the rest of her form. Being somewhat skilled at the arts of rolling, she quickly gained speed. Manoeuvring past remaining fleeing Ghinite citizens and demolished buildings, she quickly moved through the streets towards...

This was where it had once stepped before, on the way in. The white landscape they all lived on had been completely squashed, creating huge valleys down to the grey floor which the gelatinous landscape was slated on. Falling down there would be troublesome. There were huge inter-linked islands sticking up inside the valley, perfectly shaped like the underside of the object that had fallen from the sky. No matter. What she had use of here, was the white hill that had been cut in half over there, creating a ramp. Turning on her side to turn, Akheria slid into the perfect position to get onto the ramp, and-

This was the first time she had actually seen the item descend herself. It was monstrously fast. It was impossible for anyone to dodge. It mercilessly squashed anything that came in its way, be it landscape, building or Ghinite. She had barely realized she had seen it before the sheer impact of it stepping down caused her to make a little jump before the hill and lose some speed. However, at that moment, it was already too late. Akheria drove onto the hill, and flew off it.

While the noise she made with her semi-liquid body flinging in the air hanging on to her organs for dear life wouldn't sound like anything to a human, in Ghinitian it translated roughly to ”AAAAAAAAAAH”. A panicked Akheria whole-heartedly doubted if she didn't regret this. She flew straight at the blue wall of the item that had descended, her altitude rising above the huge white bottom rim. Coming closer to it, she could see that the blue wall was actually composed of many, many tubes bound together to form a complex pattern knitted together, but even these tubes were impossibly large to her. And... she was about to fly straight into one.

______________________________________________________

Aaron came out of the room, passing the open useless hallway filled with equipment for keeping things clean on the way. The doctor sat smiling happily at the monitors, looking proud.

'Well done, young man. That is all I needed from you,' Hogan stated with satisfaction. 'You may go home now.'

Aaron felt a bit unsure, biting his lower lips a bit, frowning just the tiniest. Something felt very off about how pleased the doctor seemed. He felt a bit nervous about questioning Hogan about it, but he could not deny how very much he wanted to know.

'So, um... Why did I take that stroll? Is there something in there?' Aaron asked. The young man flinched, because for the slightest moment, doctor Hogan's expression changed into extremely annoyed impatience masked under his smile. Then, the white-bearded man looked like he considered something, which seemed to brighten his mood considerably. After a while of thinking, he suddenly turned one of his monitors around. On it, was a square room, with lots upon lots of tiny green dots. Though... they were creating valleys that looked a lot like...

'See this?' the doctor asked, newfound excitement in his voice. 'There are tiny life-forms, invisible to the naked eye. The room over there is full of them. This was a little experiment to see how they adapt to sudden intrusion. And look!' Hogan announced, pressing a button and showing a recording. The recording showed Aaron's location as he stepped into the room, and how the little dots eventually dispersed in front of him with impressive pre-recognition of his patterns. 'The little geniuses saw that you just walked along the walls with impressive accuracy! They were moving out of the way WAY ahead of time!' the doctor said excitedly.

Aaron flinched a bit as the recording came to where he stepped into the corner. It had been impressive that they moved to get out of his way when he walked in straight lines, but... so many small dots didn't get out in time. Their movements in his footprints were thinned out, panicked and sporadic. In addition, the tight concentration in the corner had been completely unable to move out of the way or prepare themselves for Aaron's step outside the identified pattern. He knew they were just tiny lives that probably were not worth any time at all, but... There was a guilty feeling burrowing in his heart.

'They're wonderful little creatures, very good at adapting. When we introduce diseases to them that threaten their way of life, they automatically start working on cures. Little miracles, that's what they are. And they even respond to PHYSICAL threats, that's amazing,' the doctor grinned. G-guess that's pretty amazing, Aaron assumed? … Cure diseases? Does that mean that they were the ones that cured...? But, if that's the case... Then why EXACTLY did he need it to be Aaron that stepped in on them? Hogan could have done that himself... There was a heart-wrenching feeling in Aaron's heart. He had stepped on those that cured his terminal disease, huh.

'Y-yeah, it is...' Aaron said, quivering a bit. S-still, this was pretty amazing for science. Aaron's part was over now. While he felt bad about them, it wasn't as if he could do something about it. They were... tiny creatures. They didn't have human rights. And the doctor looked so excited and happy now, he felt bad thinking about such a negative subject. He must have imagined that momentary look he thought he had seen previously. Aaron had to assume that the doctor knew best. Yeah, the doctor knew best...

Drawing this conclusion, Aaron eventually got dismissed, and it was time to turn and leave.

______________________________________________________

Oh, my.

It had been on a complete whim that Hogan had shown the young man what he had stepped on. The look of complete anguish on Aaron's face as he realized what he had done... it was beautiful. A sense of downright sinister joy filled the doctor as he saw the boy leave. Had Aaron worked out that these were the creatures that had cured him? What a lovely expression of despair. Hogan mentally made a note not to make a habit out of this, he could get addicted, and as a doctor he knew the price of addiction. It'd inevitably lead to a downwards spiral that'd end in more illegal actions and his own eventual imprisonment. But, just this once, he'd enjoy it to the fullest.

The grin on the doctor's face didn't drop a single time as he wandered over to the door of the chamber. He didn't really need it, any of the Ghinites that got out of the door wouldn't have the means to survive on their own, the world out there was harsh for creatures as tiny as them. The fact they actually had organs made them extremely fragile compared to other creatures of that size. They likely wouldn't survive very well in a natural environment, seeing how their mutated origin was inside a lab to begin with. However, now there was numerous footprints in their lab left behind by Aaron's shoes that Hogan had to clean up. Worth it. This also meant that he could personally visit a disaster upon the Ghinites in addition to Aaron's stroll. Ooh, he could already imagine their unheard screams of panic and despair. Yupp. So worth it.

______________________________________________________

Aaron eventually ended up standing outside the hospital. He had a few new things to think about now. So, there was a distinct possibility there were some of those creatures stuck on his shoes. Aaron looked down momentarily, staring down at his British Knights shoes, blinking a little. So... these tiny creatures had saved his life, huh? Maybe if he tried to set up an environment at home, he could breed his own little pen of them, maybe? It wouldn't repay for what he had done, but maybe it would give him some comfort. Yeah, having a little aquarium with the creatures that saved him. That'd be nice. He thought he'd do that. He didn't know if they'd actually need some form of food, but he'd experiment. Satisfied with his choice of redemption, Aaron could once again smile as he started walking. Back home, for the first time in forever.

______________________________________________________

… SURVIVED!

Akheria stuck to the enormous strings of the shoes, clutching on for dear life as ”BK” kept moving. She didn't know where he was heading, or what would await her at their destination. She didn't DARE let go. At least, wherever this life-form went to sleep, there should be a relative amount of safety. … At least to it, couldn't say for sure about for herself. Regardless, this trip had already been really informative.

Because, just a few extremely huge steps outside the room where she had spent her entire life, the life-form she had stuck to had stopped beside another one of its kind. Another bottom of the bipedal giants composed of woven tubes and giant rims. On it, she had recognized a mark. It was the humongous mark of the Adidas. Ghinitian ancestors must have seen this very same mark at some point in the past when they were being fed, and remembered it. This with all likelihood meant that the Adidas, those who provide them with food, were also the ones who let BK in. That could mean they also were the ones who let the Zoroans in. That likely meant more disasters would happen in the future, too.

Akheria, a green tiny bit of living slime on the side of BK, clutched her grip tighter with determination. In there, their city was but something the big creatures were experimenting on. Providing foreign elements, like the Zoroans or BK. To see how they reacted to these threats. How many Ghinites had died to their experiments? … Granted, the Ghinites likely wouldn't have prospered as they had without the help of the nutrients that the Adidas had provided, but that still didn't give them the right to terrorize their city as they pleased!

Akheria didn't know where she was heading, but blotpot if she didn't have a plan. She'd use these genes she had taken from Bohkon to create her own colony! And she'd do her BLIMIEST to find a way to communicate with BK! She'd have her demands, and she'd have her preparations for anything he might answer her with! She'd find a way to set her people free, yet! This was but the beginning!

A Ghinitian confident laughter went unheard as Akheria stuck to the side of Aaron's shoe as he headed home...

Minor Note

I would like to apologize to everyone who knows more about micro-biology than I do. I just thought it'd make a cool story. Have a good day. Haha.

The Silver Bullet

By @Holmishire.

As the smell of gunpowder drifted back to him from his outstretched pistol, a wolf tumbled into the brush, dead. Abiorn recocked his gun, fired, missed. Recocked, fired, and another wolf fell, bleeding from its side.

The three surviving wolves ignored their fallen brethren, and rushed towards him.

Without the time to reload, the missionary turned tail and ran.

Tall, fit, and lanky, the man was fast—but nowhere near as fast as a pack of a forest's chief hunters. He'd barely made it five yards before one tackled him to the ground, raking his back with its claws. Though painful, Abiorn wasn't ready to give in just yet.

He swung his elbow behind him, catching his assailant in the chin and granting him enough momentum to move into a crouch. He had barely rghted himself, however, when the second wolf sunk its teeth into his forearm, dragging him off balance as the third lunged in for the kill.

As death approached with jaws open wide, he was too terrified to even close his eyes.

An immense form slammed the wolf aside, swatting another to the grond as it attempted to retaliate. With a yelp, the wolf scrambled back to its feet and tore off in fear—its two companions were not far behind.

The beast turned to face Abiorn as he lay prone and bleeding out, helpless in the face of its looming mass. As best he could tell, it was a dire wolf, almost the size of a bear and with dark brown fur to match.

As it considered him with intelligent eyes, he found himself drifting out of consciousness.

A gunshot sounded nearby, and the wolf listened momentarily as it echoed through the trees.

---

The wounded man was heavy, but Ulfarr was nothing if not strong. Woodsman by trade, it was not uncommon for him to hoist large quantities of lumber or the body of a great beast across the forest floor.

The man in his arms was far younger than he, and dressed in a fine mix of red cloth and polished steel bespeaking of one of the greater inland kingdoms. No doubt he was here to link the 'wildmen' back to civilization—or perhaps to prove himself to some grand royal cause.

Little time passed before he crossed paths with three men of the village: Huldr, chief of the guard; Hundi, his absentminded brother; and Fiak, the baker.

Huldr scowled. He was a large man by most standards, but more round than thick compared to Ulfarr's beastly trunk. "Where'd you find him?"

Ulfarr motioned vaguely behind him with his head. "The forest. Where the hell else?" Hundi and Fiak stepped forward to take the injured party from Ulfarr's arms, and he moved to comply. "He's bleeding pretty badly, better to take him to Felsi and Vitní quick." He looked back to Huldr, who had yet to move as he glared at Ulfarr, rifle gripped tightly in his hands.

"Wolves?"

"Aye," Ulfarr replied casually. "Found two shot dead—your rifle scared the last one off."

The guardsman nodded, and then turned his back on the man. "Let's go," he grumbled.

With the man's body supported between them, Fiak and Hundi followed, the latter giving a quick smile to the woodsman as he left. "Thank you," he said.

Ulfarr gave no response, merely watching them disappear back into the trees, moving towards the crags at the top of which their village had been built.

---

Abiorn awoke to silence.

Lying face-down on a soft woolen bed, he quickly pushed himself up on his arms and glanced around. The room was well-lit, an opening in the wall letting in a light breeze and the welcome rays of the afternoon sun. The walls were made of a light-grey stone, thick and worn down with age. No decorations adorned the room, and no furniture save the bed on which he lay and a small wooden chair in the corner, next to a wooden door.

A chair currently occupied by a napping man, clad in a long robe and heavy cowl.

Abiorn rose from the bed and glanced down at his body. With his armour removed and shirt folded neatly beside the bed, he was greeted with his own bare chest, a few white bandages tracing across its length. His left forearm was nearly entirely wrapped—and these bandages were a less welcome carmine. Feeling his back, he knew the multitude of bandages there were likely in a similar state.

The missionary quietly approached the door beside the sleeping man and creaked it open slowly so that he could glance outside.

Judging from the series of pews stretching out across the hall, he was in a side room of a small church. Seeing only one figure sitting near the front of the hall, he opened the door fully and walked down the aisle.

Wearing the same dark green robes and cowl as the man Abiorn had found when he awoke, she looked up to him as his footsteps reached her ears, and smiled. "Goodday, missionary of Nardja. I am glad to see you well."

"Your work?" he said, designating the bandages.

"Mostly Felsi's. I hope you did not wake him?"

"No."

"Kind of you. He's not been sleeping much, of late—always awake late at night, studying and translating bestiaries of old." She patted the wood of the pew to her left. "Would you care to sit?"

The man eased into the seat nervously. He was used to grand cathedrals, so long that even a hundred people could sit within and still feel as if alone with the Lord. The bishops and priests he'd become familiar with were distant and powerful, unquestionable authority figures. The young and demure woman—as well as the intimate confines of the church—was to him rather… unsettling. "How do you know that I'm from Nardja?"

"I recognized the emblem on your tunic. We wild folk are not as uneducated as is commonly believed."

He had no good response to that—he couldn't tell even if the remark was directed at him, or just his homeland. Instead, he held out his hand. "My name is Abiorn. You and your kith have my thanks."

She shook his hand firmly. "My kith?"

"The three men who brought me here." He paused, and glanced back at the open doorway. "And Felsi, of course. I caught glimpses of them in the haze of my unconsciousness."

"I see." She hesitated, looking to the altar ahead of them and kneading her hands quietly. Finally, her smile returned, though her cowl prevented him from seeing whether or not it extended also to her eyes. "Hundi, the man who brought you here… He's not one I would call my friend. A good man, but circumstance has driven us apart. I take it you met my father?" At his questioning gaze, she lifted the cowl from her head, revealing sombre grey eyes, thick eyebrows, and long curly locks of dark brown hair. "Ulfarr, a giant of a man if ever there was one. You must have been in too much shock at the time. I'm sure you'd have remembered him had you seen—"

The toll of a large bell rung out through the hall, silencing the priestess. As the fifth and final beat was struck, Felsi stumbled into the aisle, clumsy and bleary-eyed.

The woman clapped her hands and rose to her feet, pulling Abiorn to his. "Come, missionary. Tonight you shall dine with the village."

Felsi moved to the church door and the woodsman's daughter waited for him in the aisle as Abiorn quickly donned his tunic and armour—hoping to make a good first impression on the village. He then joined her in the aisle.

As he was led through the pews, Abiorn tugged her hand so that she would face him. "I never had the pleasure of learning your name."

"Vitní. Now come." She pulled him along with her right hand, and as she passed Felsi, she snatched his arm with her left.

As she threw open the church's doors, the missionary was greeted with warm red skies and a modest view.

Wood and stone buildings were scattered across the rock, of fine but simple make. Sheep, oxen, children, and a few hounds wandered loose between them, while a splattering of men and women made their way down the road towards the centre of the village. A short walk past the buildings, he could see a short stone wall encircling the higher level of the crag—and beyond it, a great expanse of forest, then distant mountains, from whence he'd come.

Following the other villagers and receiving curious looks and comments as they went, the three approached the largest building of the village. Standing at what appeared to be three storeys tall, a thick column of black smoke sprouted forth from a chimney at its top, while the wildsmen streamed in through a broad door. As they came closer to the great hall, Abiorn could tell from the stone that this building was far more ancient than even the aged stone of the church they'd just left.

Once inside, he saw that what he thought must be a multi-storey building was instead but one immense dome. For such a heavy building, such height was far beyond his expectations—perhaps even rivalling the architecture of his home.

A dozen or so tables were laid out across the hall, and food was just now being brought out to them from the bonfire-like stove raging at the centre.

He was pulled from his fascinated stare by Vitní, who led him and Felsi to a table near the back.

The table was already halfway filled by the time they arrived. A man stood up to greet them, grinning wide. "Vitní! I see you have brought the guest!" He stepped close and embraced Abiorn in a tight hug. "I am Geirr, hallkeeper of the village. On behalf of those gathered here, I welcome you!"

Introductions were passed around—besides the hallkeeper and the two from the church, he was also 'reacquainted' with Fiak, the baker, and Huldr, the guardsman. "What brings a man like you to these parts?" asked Huldr, his voice low but clear.

"I was sent from Nardja by the bishop of Giurdholme. There is said to be a castle, far from here, where the ocean loops back around the land. It is my hope to find this castle, and bring back the relics it holds."

"And you thought to take this journey alone?" he scoffed.

"Well, no, I did not set out alone." He smiled with a hint of melancholy. "We parted ways some time ago—I am the last willing to try."

Geirr laughed and smacked him on the back. "Good on you. If the world were filled with naught but cowards, never'd there be any legends to share."

Guldr grimaced. "Legends have a way of making fools of men. Better to be a coward and a alive then to be a legend leaving a child without a father."

The menfolk continued to chat merrily, drinking and eating as they shared stories both of Albiorn's homeland of the village itself. Vitní remained mostly silent, occasionally smiling at a joke or whispering something to Felsi.

Eventually, Albiorn asked of Hundi, the third man that had brought him back to the village.

"He's at the gates, keeping watch. Pity he couldn't be here," said Geirr.

Albiorn glanced at Vitní. "And Ulfarr?"

He was met with silence. Only after Huldr had taken a great swig of his drink did he speak, his words slurred with drunkenness. "That damned basterd ain't welcome here no more."

Vitní scowled. "No thanks to you."

"I ain't sinned like 'e did! I'm a man, like he ain't!"

She set down her knife and pushed herself up from the table. "Thank you Geirr, as always, for your hospitality. I'll be taking my leave now."

As she left, Huldr too rose from the table to follow her shouting angrily back at her.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea—"

Albiorn was interrupted by Geirr. "Make no worries of it. Ulfarr is Huldr's problem, and Huldr's alone. If he's going to damn the man in front of his own daughter, he can take the fallout it brings." He glanced around. "Still, perhaps it is time for us all to retire. Felsi, could you walk the good man to his room for the night?" Though phrased like a question, his tone made it clear it was anything but.

Felsi nodded nervously, and drew Albiorn away from the table. Once they had left the hall, Albiorn stopped him.

"What is Huldr's problem with Ulfarr? Why is he not allowed within the village?"

Felsi muttered to himself for a few moments, scratching at his knuckles. "Paranoid… Vitní's mother, Huldr's sister—Huldr blames Ulfarr for why she leaved. Can't stand the sight of him."

"And the others allow this?"

"No, no, Huldr has sway, but not so much. Ulfarr respects the man's wishes, stays away on his own."

Albiorn thought this over momentarily. "And what of—"

A scream tore through the air. It took the two a moment to process it, but once they did, they quickly came to the same conclusion—it was a woman's scream, and with the other villagers still cleaning up the great hall, it could only be Vitní's.

Having loaded it as he dressed himself in the church, Albiorn drew his pistol and ran down the road in the direction of the scream, Felsi limping after him.

As he ran, he heard shouts from ahead, just past the front gate—now left wide open. He recognized the shouts as being from three men, one of which definitely Huldr's drunken snarl, but none of them decipherable.

Soon he was rushing through the trees, the shouts growing closer, then punctuated by a loud cry of pain. He breached the brush and skidded to a halt, quickly taking stock of the scene.

Closest to him, he saw what could only be Hundi, Huldr's brother, lying in the dirt and bloodied by a gash across his chest. Kneeling in the dirt at his side was Vitní, trying to stem the flow of blood. A few steps away stumbled Huldr, holding steady a bloody silver knife despite his inebriated state. Further on was a stout wooden building amidst the trees, coated in lichen and moss.

Most striking of all, however, was the immense wolf staring Huldr down.

Recognizing it as the dire wolf that he had last seen before succumbing to his wounds, Albiorn was quick to cock his gun. Nearly as tall as a man on even while standing on four legs, its fangs were bared and its thick brown fur on end.

Catching Albiorn out of the corner of his eye, Huldr dropped his knife and cried out to him. "Its struck Hundi! Help us!"

He didn't need to be told twice. He lifted his weapon, took quick aim, and fired, just as Vitní cried out "No!"

The bullet struck the wolf on the side of the chest, tearing through its lung. It crashed into the ground, and Vitní rushing over to it.

As she leaned into the body, it slowly shifted in form, shrinking to the size of a dark-haired man.

Ulfarr was dead.

This time around, @Mag Lev, @Ariamella, and myself shall be serving as judges for the entries. @RomanAria may join us if time permits.

TTL: The Ninth Labour

Here are the submissions I received. As a general reminder, I have only included forum names if given permission by the author to do so - otherwise, these stories remain anonymous. Feel free to post reviews for these stories in the general conversation thread. Try to provide some helpful critiques and suggestions, and mention anything you liked.

Winners will be declared on June 4th, and any applicable Challenge Accolades will also be awarded then. All winning entries will be saved in the Twelve Labours Archive with a permanent link in my signature, as well as mentioned in a report in the News section and General Discussion subforums. Once again, thanks to @mdk and the rest of the RPGC crew for helping to schedule The Twelve Labours. Another special thanks to @mahz for cranking out the awesome trophy and titles system.

Once the results come around, if you did not win but feel you should have? Make an appeal to the judges who reviewed your entry. Keep it classy, and exercise some courtesy while making your case, and they might just reevaluate your entry. Please keep in mind, you only get the one appeal. Sometimes you just have to let it go.

If you submitted an entry before the deadline, and did not break any of the rules or conditions of the contest, then there is no reason it should not be here - so if it is not, inform me immediately, either in the Discussion Thread or else via PM.

The Stories:

Act One

prologue under the title 'Abyss.'

Two men and a woman approached a one-way window overlooking an observation room, wherein sat a woman. She wore a pale blue gown, glossed with a plastic sheen and loose-fit, bound up in back with an orderly’s crude knots. Her eyes were senselessly dull, her jaw slack, her hair once shaven but peppered with rough new growth perhaps a week old. She sat before a false-wood table with her arms dangling idle at her side. Her eyes fluttered about with chaotic indifference, seeing but not comprehending her own reflection in the mirrored glass, and then falling to the floor, then the corner, then above, and so on without stimulus.

Behind the glass, the two men were talking. One wore a copper-toned nametag which read Lewitz in cheerful black script. Lewitz was tall and warm. His face was politely somber, but glowed all the same in the manner of moral people. The other two were his guests. The man, Alfred Spence, wore a suit and tie which fit him well enough, but seemed at odds with his generous and fatherly demeanor. His partner was Margaret Ulis. She wore smart business attire, and an expression of unmasked concern for the woman behind the glass. Her blue eyes were locked on the patient inside.

“Taina, raise your arms,” said Lewitz. The patient complied. “Drop.” He went on with a series of simple commands, and the patient responded with mute compliance. Throughout the exercise, Ulis’ expression grew more and more dour.

Spence put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked kindly.

“Fine,” she replied, sounding anything else. She tilted her head without shifting her gaze. “Is she suffering?”

Spence turned to their host, who took a moment to parse his response. “Who can say? She is comfortable, I think. Not in any pain. But her condition is more or less what you see. I sent notes, did you…?”

“Yes,” said Spence. “Parietal and temporal lobectomy. We just thought…”

“You said you were helping her,” Ulis blurted. “A C-chip should have restored some cognitive function.”

Spence wanted to interrupt, perhaps to calm the conversation, but Lewitz spoke over him. “She has a C-chip. We tried her on the U7 as well before Triton folded, but the C-chip seemed to work better for her.” Ulis raised a brow. “She has had six brain surgeries. I’ve tried everything. Everything.”

“And now you want to pawn her off on us.”

“Maggie,” Spence urged.

“I had hoped, from your letter, that you might be able to help her.” All three were silent for a moment. Lewitz took a conspiratorial tone. “Listen,” he said, “the Ward has a deal with Reager. I’ve been held them off for as long as I could, but someday soon – real soon – they’re going to come for her. Fit her with a Reager drive and put her into service. For all I know, they’re signing those forms as we speak.”

“She would be a slave.”

Lewitz nodded. “So you understand why I am eager to get her into your legal custody. If your chip works, you can save her – and who knows how many more – from becoming another drone.”

Maggie nodded, apparently satisfied. Spence asked for a moment and Lewitz left them alone.

“Maggie,” he said softly.

“I know,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I knew what this was, it’s just… seeing her there, it’s different.” He watched through the glass with her and nodded. “I want to help her, Al. Can we do that?”

He searched for the right response. “We can try,” he said. “We have to try, don’t we?”

“You said she’s not a perfect candidate. The extent of the damage, I mean, two lobectomies, six surgeries…”

“It’s worse than we thought, but we’ll come up with something.”

She looked at him. “Promise me.” He didn’t understand. “Promise me that we’re doing this for the right reasons.”

He understood. “I’m not going to use her,” he said. “And I’m not going to let anybody else use her, either. We’re going to help this woman, no matter how long it takes.”

They embraced, not with passion but with a unified resolve. Lewitz took this as his cue. “Do you need to see more?” he asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Spence.

Lewitz nodded. “Good. Then I suggest we make this official immediately. We need to get this into the ledger before the Reager people can stop it.” He produced a pad with a legal document displayed. Spence moved to sign it, but Lewitz held it away for a moment. “I’m taking a risk, leaving her in your care,” he said. “If I find out I’ve misjudged you….”

“You have my word,” said Spence. Their eyes met, and he signed.

---

A bright light without sensation. Voices. A sound like a soft formless thing folding into itself gently, continuously, high-pitched and smooth and constant. Water. Words from blurry shadows in the vicinity, words without meaning. Touching. Soft points of pressure incomprehensible but kind. Hard staccato sound, smooth feeling against the skull. Something washing over the light, dim, sense-making. The shadows became faces, faces of people. A smile. They smiled back. Smile harder. A noise, her own happy noise but unfamiliar to her ears. They made noises and words as well.

“Taina.” A word with meaning. More words without, and more. “Taina, close your eyes?” Darkness. “Open.” Faces again. More words. Enough for today. Darkness once more.

---

“Can you understand me?” She did not know what to do or how to speak. The person in the room bobbed her head. “Can you do this?” Taina did it. “Very good.”

“Response is good.” The words had meaning now. Meaning had found its way into her mind and she did not know how. “Check her vision again without the visor.”

“Not now, Al.”

“Remember what we’re doing, Maggie.”

“Remember who we’re doing it for, Al. Run the numbers later.”

“Alright.”

“Taina.” Smile. “My name is Maggie.” Motions with her appendages. “Maggie. Do you know your name?”

“Synapse response is…”

“Damn it, Al.” Turning, turning back. “Can you say something, Taina?” Motions again, closer to her face. “Can you speak for me?”

“Maggie.” She went to him and they said more words then they both came back.

“Taina we’re going to try something. It will feel a little strange but be brave, okay?” She smiled. Smile back. “Alright. I want you to look at me Taina. Look at me. Good. Just stay here with me, okay, okay good.”

Cold feeling, metal scraping metal scraping her skull and inside her skull and in her mind with electric fingers gentle but alien. Buzzing and pervading and wrong until it stopped feeling wrong. She kept smiling. Keep smiling back.

“Very good, Taina. Can you say something for me now?” Her smile stopped, stop smiling. Glances between the two. A gesture once more. “Maggie,” hands on her breast, then pointing at… “Taina. Maggie…. Taina. Maggie, Taina.” The hands moved again.

“Maggie,” she thought, and a robotic voice mimicked. Her hands moved. “Taina. Maggie, Taina. Maggie, Taina. Maggie, Taina. Maggie.” Smiling. Smile back.

---

Maggie taught her more words, and the world began to make more sense. She was in a room. She had a bed. She had friends named Maggie and Al and Tony. Tony came for visits. Maggie and Al were her family. When she was awake it was daytime, and the darkness was nighttime. A daytime and a nighttime together were a day. There were many days.

In daytime, Taina learned things. She learned how to hold a fork and how to make her bed and how to plug the computer into her head when she wanted to speak. It didn’t feel alien and wrong anymore. She learned how to play games with shapes and how to walk with her mouth closed like a lady. She learned how to put on her visor when she wanted to see, and how to take it off and have a bath by herself without seeing.

She was like Maggie more than she was like Al. One day she asked why they were different and Maggie told her about it, and Taina said she still didn’t understand why it was that way. Maggie agreed and Al laughed. Taina didn’t know how to make the computer laugh so she just smiled and that seemed to make Maggie sad so she stopped.

Seven days were a week and four weeks were a month. Maggie and Taina and Al and Tony were friends for three months. Al said she was going to have another operation tomorrow and Maggie said to be brave because she had already had ten and this one would be easy. She said this one would make her learn better and she would be able to do more. They let her keep her visor on at nighttime so they could say more words together and play games.

---

Waking from the surgery was different than any other feeling Taina could remember. She opened her eyes and knew that she was blind, because she could remember seeing. She felt for her visor, not because she was supposed to, but because she wanted to see – and, recognizing this concept in herself, she was astounded. She left the visor on its stand beside her bed, and wrapped her arms over her chest.

She could feel time passing. Minutes, hours maybe, pondering what it meant to be alone and what it meant to ponder and what it meant to mean. She heard her door opening, and her white and shadowed world became whiter with an electric hum of light.

“Taina,” said Maggie. Taina didn’t move. “How are you feeling, Taina?”

She didn’t want to plug in her computer to speak, and because she didn’t want to, she wondered why. She could find no answer in her mind.

“Is she alright?” Maggie’s voice, with some emotion in it that Taina didn’t understand.

“The readings are good but….” Al.

“Taina can you speak? I need to ask you some questions.”

“She’s not moving. Vitals are green, I don’t….”

“Wait.” A shadow growing, Maggie’s. Pressure on the bed. Breathing softly. She was sitting, putting a hand on her leg, imparting some foreign feeling that made Taina cry silently. “I know,” she said softly, whispering almost, but seeming powerful. She spoke faster than she had before, or, perhaps she had spoken slowly once and that was all that Taina could remember. “You know I had a sister once. Erin. She was about your age. When we were little Erin was in a bad accident. She lost her arm, here.” She touched Taina’s skin and drew a line with her finger. “When she woke up, she was confused at first, but happy to be alive, even though it was all very scary. Then the doctors gave her a new arm. They said she could do all the things she could do before, and I remember thinking, she’s going to be so happy when she wakes up. But she wasn’t.”

Taina shifted her position a little. She didn’t know why Maggie was telling her these things. It made her feel worse, and then she felt worse for feeling worse.

“I couldn’t understand. I thought, she was broken, and they fixed her, so why did that make her sad? So I asked her, and she didn’t know either. But it did.” There was a silence. Taina thought it sounded like a riddle, and she couldn’t solve it. Then Maggie went on. “It made me sad too. For months, for years, watching her struggle the way she did. I tried everything to make her smile – I just wanted her to be happy. And after a while, she was, I think – but I was still looking out for her, I mean, she was my sister and I wanted to protect her. One day – we’d gotten older, grown up a little, and she needed a new prosthetic arm because the old one didn’t fit anymore. I rode with her thinking, how horrible, she’s going to have to go through all that pain again. And do you know what she told me?”

Taina sat up.

“She said ‘Don’t be scared, Maggie. It’s going to be fine.’ I was afraid because I thought she was broken…. But she wasn’t broken at all. It just took a little time to get used to things, that’s all. She said once she figured out how, it was no big deal at all.” She pulled Taina into a hug. “You’re not broken either, Taina. It’s going to take some time, but you’ll figure it out too. You’ll see.”

Taina extricated herself from the embrace and lay back down, turning so that her back was to the visor beside the bed. She didn’t know what it was that she was meant to figure out, and she didn’t know how to do it. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to speak. She closed her eyes and the darkness was warmer than Maggie’s story.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Take your time. We’re here to help if you need us. You remember where the button is?” There was a sound of rubber-coated wire sliding on cloth. “I’m putting it right here. If you get hungry or thirsty – or if you need anything at all, we’re here for you. Okay?”

Taina didn’t move. Maggie touched her on the leg one more time, then stood up. “We care about you, Taina. And we’re just outside.” They left.

---

When she came into the observation room, Lewitz bounded up to meet her. He’d been fired from the Ward for squirreling Taina away, and he didn’t seem to mind the punishment. Al hadn’t minded either, and hired him on the spot, and thus here he was – watching over Maggie’s session with uncontainable excitement. “Maggie, she understood.”

“I know,” she said, a little coarse. The blinking monitors and their neverending streams of raw data jarred her, especially after such a vulnerable moment. But if Lewitz noticed, he gave no indication.

“No, look,” he said, pulling her towards the workstation that had become his new office. He moved an insta-cook meal tray off the desk, adding it to an overflowing waste bin, so that she could sit and watch the monitor. “Look at the wave traffic.”

Maggie studied the numbers. Taina’s augmented brain chip bridged connections in her mind that she had lost decades earlier and, in its diagnostic mode, it fed data to the computer monitoring the volume of traffic. Volume was a poor measure of complex thought, but they logged it anyway as a reference point. Maggie’s eyes widened. “Is this Taina?”

“Oh yeah.” He tapped the screen. “Look at that. See how it changes? Peaks and valleys at random intervals, millions of distinct connections….. This isn’t just background noise, or clutter from a diagnostics glitch. These are real human thought patterns.” Maggie stared, disbelieving. “I know it’s too early to count chickens, but I think you really did it.”

Maggie couldn’t quite form a response. Something in her gut told her to be careful. “Let’s overlay the audio and sync up the timecodes. It looks good, but for all we know we’re just looking at my own voice bouncing around in her head like some kind of neural feedback loop.” Lewitz didn’t move, so she looked at him. He was grinning. “What?” she asked. “We’ve seen big neural responses in the last generation too. Big numbers don’t…. it’s not…. What?”

“Maggie, this isn’t a recording,” he said. “This is Taina right now.” She was speechless.

“You mean…”

“She’s thinking. On her own.”

Thinking about Erin, Maggie thought. She stood up. “I’m going to get Al.”

“Get me some tea while you’re up?” He glued his eyes to the monitor and clasped his hands in front of his mouth. Maggie asked if he wanted anything in it but he wasn’t listening anymore. She tried to picture what was going through his mind, and smiled.

---

Weeks passed. Taina began to use the speech computer again. She had conversations with herself, when she was alone, and conversations with Maggie and Tony and Al when she wanted them. She was frequently surprised at how much she understood. She could not remember learning the language, but all the words she needed were in her mind already. She asked Al what that meant, and he asked her if she understood the phrase ‘Broca’s area.’ She did. He told her that the silicon dioxide chip in her mind was functioning as a synthetic Broca’s area, using a vocalization matrix to interpret synaptic waves into complex language, and that they could input new definitions with a fiber optic connection. Taina understood completely. He said that she didn’t know yet how marvelous that was, but someday she would understand. She believed him.

She experimented with the visor when she was alone, but she didn’t like it. It was necessary for certain things, like reading and using her new datapad. But she hated the way it felt – heavy and big. It hurt her nose and strained her semispinalis capitus. She told Maggie about it and Maggie laughed, and said that she should just call it her neck. Taina didn’t wear the visor unless she had to. The growing feeling in her mind was that the visor wasn’t her – that she was something, someone, and that the speech computer and the visor, like her datapad, were intrusions upon her self. Literature taught her about what it meant to be a self, and none of the characters she read about needed a speech computer, or a visor. Nor did Maggie, or Tony, or Al.

One day she asked if they could fix her eyes and her tongue. She hadn’t decided yet if she wanted these things – she was only wondering aloud if they could be repaired. Tony answered frankly. “Your organic tissues are severely degraded,” he said. “Take the eyes. With enough work, we might be able to restore some level of retinal function – but even if we could, your optical nerves have withered.”

“Very well,” Taina replied.

“Well, hold on,” Tony said. “You’ve responded very well to synthetic nerve structure in your brain. If you wanted to, we could try to implant synthetic eyes.”

“Would it be like the visor?” she asked.

Tony thought about it. “A little,” he admitted. “But they would be a part of you. You wouldn’t even feel them.”

“If it works,” Maggie interrupted. “Taina, you’re the first person in the galaxy with this sort of augmented brain. We don’t know for sure if the chip is capable of synthetic sight. I mean, it should be, but…. You’re using it so well, so much better than we hoped, that we ought to be careful about upsetting the balance.”

“You think I should stay blind?” Taina asked. She didn’t mean anything by it at all – she was only asking. But the question seemed to hurt her friend.

“Nobody’s saying that,” said Al. “What Maggie means is, we can give you new eyes, if you want them. But it might hurt you. It’s important that you understand that.”

Taina thought about it. “I do,” she said.

“Think about it,” said Tony.

“I will,” she said.

She thought about it for a few more days. The three of them returned together after that time had passed and said that they had tested the technology on a dummy chip in their lab, and that it would probably work. Then they surprised her. Maggie showed her a small device which she called a speech plate. It was tiny and smooth, and curved to fit against the side of her head. She unplugged Taina’s speech computer and slid the speech plate into its output jack, and asked Taina if it felt comfortable. She nodded. They said that when the operated on her eyes, they would also implant a smaller computer called a driver right inside her skull, and the speech plate would plug into the jack. She would never have to take it out except to clean it, and she would be able to speak anywhere in the whole world.

“Only if you want it,” Maggie repeated. “It’s risky, but we’ll do our best. And it’s your decision.”

Taina plugged into her computer and nodded. “I want it,” she said.

---

one month later

In the lobby, Alfred Spence couldn’t stop wringing his hands. Everywhere he looked, he saw something amiss – a corner of the rug that wasn’t square against the tile floor, a smudge on the Mercury-glass. Lighting that felt too dim when he looked away and too bright when he stared at the lamp. He turned his head. “Tony, I’m panicking.”

Lewitz sighed. “Really.”

“We’re not ready for this.”

“Yes, you are.” Lewitz punched him on the shoulder. “Look I’ve dealt with these guys before, alright? Reager is almost good people. They don’t bite the CEO.”

“Reager makes the chip that we’re trying to replace,” Spence reminded him. Lewitz obviously knew what that meant about the upcoming meeting, and was choosing to ignore it, which annoyed him. “Maybe you were buddies back in the ward, but this is going to be something else entirely.”

“I know what I’m talking about,” said Lewitz defiantly. “Just relax. You’re gonna blow this guy away.”

Spence gave relaxing a try. It didn’t take. “Tell me what he’s gonna say.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Tell me again.”

Lewitz sighed. “Reager’s all about the product. He’s gonna ask you a bunch of questions about costs and liabilities that you already answered in the release, so just be honest and don’t try to sell anything. They sent someone all the way out here, so they’re already sold on the data.”

“Right.” That made sense and it calmed his nerves a little.

“Now the only reason they’d send a rep is they want to meet her face to face. Activity logs are one thing, but you’ve brought a woman back to life, and nobody’s ever done that before. They want to see her, talk to her, because to them it sounds too good to be true.”

“Still sounds that way to me,” said Spence. “But she wasn’t dead, she was just…”

“Then,” Lewitz interrupted, “when he’s satisfied that what you’re doing is real – which he will be, because it is – he’s going to try to buy your company. He’ll make it so tempting that you’ll kick yourself for saying no – but you’re going to say no. Then he’ll be polite and leave, and we can go on about our business.”

“And all we care about is the evaluation, right?”

“Exactly. When he offers to buy we want him to say a very big number. Then we say piss off, and take that number to our investors as a proof of value. They give us everything we need and you keep saving the galaxy.”

“You’re sure this is going to work?” Spence understood the strategy. He knew the books better than anyone else, knew how much they needed extra capital, but in his heart he didn’t trust Reager Corp, and the whole notion of sitting down with them – even to use them – felt like a deal with the devil.

“I’ve done a hundred of these,” said Lewitz. “That’s how it worked in the Ward. Only, the Ward didn’t care about their patients the way I did – the way you do. So when Reager asked for their pound of flesh, we just gave it to them. You’re not going to do that.”

“I thought you said they were good people.”

“I said almost,” said Lewitz, turning something over in his head. “But you’re better. Reager makes the best of bad situations. You fix the situation.”

Outside, the landing pad lights blinked on, a flashing white strobe surrounded by a ring of blue. Spence touched a button on the reception desk. “Maggie, shuttle’s landing now. How are you doing?”

“We’re good,” came her voice. “Knock ‘em dead.”

The craft landed, the doors opened. Spence thought of nothing else until he clasped hands with the Reager representative and introduced himself.

“So good to finally meet you,” the man said. He was fat, and cold to the touch. He seemed genial enough though. “Edward, Edward Pryce. I’ve read a lot about you.”

“Edward, good.” Spence released and gathered his thoughts. “This is Anthony Lewitz, my associate.”

Pryce shook hands with Lewitz. “We’ve actually met,” said the latter.

“That’s right,” said Pryce. “You worked at the Ward didn’t you? What brought you here?”

“Not what,” said Lewitz. “Who. You’re about to meet her.”

They moved into the lift and descended a few floors to the conference room. Along the way they talked, and the conversation was exactly as Lewitz predicted. Pryce directed most of his questions at Spence, and Spence answered with naked truth. He could feel sweat building on his neck but he thought he was hiding his emotions well enough, and Pryce seemed satisfied. When they were seated and the inquiries were done, Pryce moved them along to the next phase.

“Well,” he said, spreading his hands on the table. “I think it’s time I see what this is all about, don’t you?”

“In a minute,” said Lewitz. Spence shot him a glance, not knowing what he was up to. “Before we start, I just want to remind you that you’re meeting a person. You’re a tech company, we’re a tech company, I get it. This is a woman who’s been through a lot. She’s recovering.”

“And you don’t want me to upset her,” asked Pryce, sounding very genuine.

“Taina has come a long way,” said Lewitz. “But at this stage of her recovery, outside of myself, Al, and Maggie, she hasn’t had a lot of person-to-person interaction yet. Look, it’s no secret – this meeting is a big deal for our company. But it’s a bigger deal for her.”

“I understand completely.”

“All I’m asking is, if you have questions about the chip, about the brain interface, save them for after.”

Pryce tapped his chin. “You gave up a lot to get her here,” he said, looking at Lewitz. Lewitz was somber. “I respect that. And I respect you – both of you, that is, all three of you. I’ll be gentle. But I have a job to do, and part of that job is testing the subject’s cognitive abilities. I need to see how she thinks, how she responds. I might have to press her a little, loathe though I am to do so. Is that going to be alright?”

Lewitz looked at Spence, and Spence sighed. “Just be careful.”

Pryce nodded, and Lewitz nodded too. Spence tapped a button on the table. “Maggie? We’re ready.”

The door slid open, and Maggie and Taina walked in holding hands. Spence looked at Pryce to gauge his reaction, which seemed good enough, then back to Taina. She’d insisted on dressing herself, with clothes Maggie had brought. She’d picked slim black slacks with a gaudy yellow blouse, and sneakers. Maggie must have helped with the laces – she hadn’t mastered that just yet. Her hair was combed away from the interface assembly protruding from the right side of her skull, so that it hung down flat over her left ear. Her new eyes were lifelike, but static, so that she had to move her head to look at each of the three men waiting, and when she did glints from the overhead lighting flashed to life and vanished.

“Hello.” When she spoke, her mouth stayed shut, only twisting into a sort of nervous smile. The team had showed her how to change the settings on her speech modulator, so that she could find a voice she liked. Ever since then, Taina had gone through a hundred different settings, ranging from a double-baritone to a high-pitched cartoonish squealing. Presently, and perhaps with some input from Maggie, her tone was pleasantly moderate and appropriate to her age and gender.

Spence looked again at Pryce, who appeared positively stricken. But he got himself together quickly and clasped his hands. “You must be Taina,” he said.

Taina cocked her head. “Why?”

Pryce started to say something, but stopped, and chewed on his lip. Spence jumped in. “Taina, this is Edward Pryce. He works for a company called Reager, and he is very excited to speak with you.”

“Yes,” said Pryce, nodding. “Very excited indeed. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taina blinked. “Ah. Yes, of course. I mean… it seems that way. I mean, I am happy to meet you, too. Edward.”

“Please, sit down.”

She released her grip on Maggie’s hand and found her way to a seat. She moved a little awkwardly, especially when pulling the chair out from the table, but she managed, and she took her seat.

“Taina,” said Pryce, “do you know why I came here today?”

She nodded. “You want to ask me questions,” she said. “You are trying to help people like me, the way Al does, only he’s better at it.”

Pryce shot him a playful look, and Spence held up his hands. “I did NOT say that,” he said defensively.

“But you are,” said Taina. They had watched videos of patients with the Reager drive. Taina didn’t like them.

“Indeed, he is,” said Pryce, nodding. “You are absolutely right. I want to learn from you, Taina, and from Doctor Spence, so that I can do better. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Taina replied. “Please ask your questions. I want to help.”

Pryce noted something on his pad, and looked up, smiling. “Let’s begin with something simple. How are you feeling today?”

Taina took just a fraction of a second to process the question. “I feel well,” she said. “I was nervous before, when I was getting ready. But you seem nice.”

“And how were you feeling yesterday?”

Her face curled into a guilty grimace. “Mostly I felt nervous,” she said. “I didn’t think I would like you. I’m sorry.”

Pryce was thoroughly impressed by what she had said, for technical reasons, but he made an effort to hide it and preserve the conversational atmosphere. “No need to apologize,” he said. “I have been told I’m a very frightening person.”

Taina cocked her head. “By whom?”

He waved his hands. “Oh, nobody in particular. Nevermind that.” He tapped his pad again. “Taina, you speak very well.”

“Thank you.” Her face smiled.

“Did Doctor Ulis – that is, Maggie – did she teach you?”

Taina nodded, then paused, holding up a finger. “Maggie taught me how to use the speech computer, and then how to use this,” she said, putting her finger to the speech plate on the side of her head. “But my vocabulary is downloaded from the Net. My chip interprets thought waves into language, and vice versa. Like a Babel fish.”

Pryce furrowed his brow and looked at Spence and Lewitz. They each shrugged.

“A Babel fish – from Douglas Adams. Do you understand?”

None of them did, until Lewitz pulled up a search from the net and showed them a page about ancient literature. “My god,” said Spence under his breath. Pryce held up a finger.

“I think so,” he said. “Have you brought a towel?”

Her face scrunched up as though she were giggling, although the speaker chip made no sound. “No,” she said at last.

“So I take it you like to read,” said Pryce. She nodded. “Is there anything else you like to do?”

Taina thought. “We play games sometimes. Blocks and flashcards, that sort of thing. But…” she looked back at Maggie, a little shy in the face. “I don’t think I learn as much anymore….”

“No, I imagine not.” Pryce leaned forwards. “Taina, has anyone told you what a magnificent person you are?”

She nodded vigorously. “Every day,” she said.

A profound feeling of pride filled Spence’s heart. Pryce gave him a knowing look, and then went on. “Taina….. as you know, I am trying to help people like you. To do that better, I would like to ask you some questions which might be…. Uncomfortable, for you.” She nodded slowly. “If you don’t want to answer any of them, that’s fine. You’ve been very helpful already, so it won’t hurt my feelings if you need me to stop at any point. Is that alright?” She nodded again. Pryce looked at Spence, and he nodded as well. “Taina, do you know why you have a brain chip?”

“To improve my quality of life,” she said. The speech plate imparted no emotion into the words. “I was hurt before. Tony was helping me, in the Ward, but my brain didn’t work no matter what he tried.”

“Why was that?”

“Temporal and parietal lobectomy. Brain damage.” she said. Her face showed a small sign of pain at the memory, but the speech plate relayed none of it.

“Do you remember how it happened?”

A pause. She was on the verge of shaking her head no, but something stopped her, and she looked up. “I misspoke,” she said. Pryce leaned forwards. “When I said that I was hurt, it’s…. Strange, to put into words. But I don’t think it was me, exactly. Do you understand?”

Pryce narrowed his eyes, intrigued. “I don’t think I do,” he said. “Could you try to explain what you mean?”

“I don’t think I fully understand either,” said Taina. Her face contorted into confused expressions as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “It feels like once, a long time ago, there was a different person living in this body, living in this brain – or, a different brain, before it was damaged. A different Taina, not me. Something terrible must have happened to her. I don’t remember what it was, because I couldn’t remember what it was, because it didn’t happen to me – it happened to her. But now, I am. I feel sorry, for her, but not for me. So then, what happened to me wasn’t terrible – nothing terrible. Because I am. Right?”

Pryce leaned over to Lewitz. “Did that make as much sense to you as it did to me?” he whispered. Lewitz shrugged.

Taina covered her face with her hands. “That came out wrong,” she said.

“Do you mean the speech plate made a mistake?” asked Spence, concerned.

“No,” said Taina. “No, I just don’t quite know how to feel about her. About me.”

Pryce touched his pad again. “Does that ever happen though – does your speech plate say the wrong word, from time to time?”

Taina’s expression of confusion melted away. She arched an eyebrow and grinned, shaking her head. “Turquoise.”

They all laughed, Taina doing so soundlessly, bobbing her head and shoulders.

Pryce set down his pad. “Well,” he said, beaming to the others in the room, “I think that’s enough for one day. Taina, it has been absolutely lovely to talk with you.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Will you come again some time?”

He bit a corner of his lower lip. “You know, I think I may. Goodbye, Taina.”

“Until next time,” she said, standing. Maggie led her away.

When they were gone, Pryce pushed his chair back from the table. “Reager wants me to chew up your company. Fuck Reager,” he said aloud. Spence and Lewitz turned very suddenly. “Alfred, tell me what you need. Tell me anything. I’m gonna get it for you.”

---

Three Weeks Later

Taina was familiar with the concept of a dream, but she could never remember having one before. This was the first. Her hands and forehead were covered in sweat. Instinctively she reached for her call button – but she didn’t have one anymore. She’d moved into a sort of makeshift apartment on one of the lower floors of the building, away from most of the medical equipment, to practice independent living and everything that came with that. But she had a communicator built into the wall near the door. She rushed to it and mashed the button.

“Hello?” No response. She pressed her speech plate against the microphone. “Maggie, are you there? Hello?”

After a minute, the line clicked. “Taina? It’s Tony.”

“Tony.” Her voice was absent emotion, but her body was shaking. Tony couldn’t see that, though.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?” She sank against the wall. “Taina, are you alright?” She was sobbing. No sound came from the speech plate, and no tears came from her synthetic eyes – but she was sobbing. Her ragged breathing must have made enough noise for Tony to hear through the microphone. “Stay right there, Taina. I’m coming.”

He found her curled up beneath the wall panel, naked and shaking. She had been his patient in the Ward, and nakedness was not altogether uncommon in a clinical sense – but there was something dramatically different about it now, about her, about them. He went for her blanket and covered her up with it.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s alright, you’re okay now.”

“Tony,” she said, her voice deceptively clear and cheerful even as she racked with sobs. “Tony I had a dream.”

“Shh,” he said, helping her up. “It’s over now.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It was only a dream, Taina.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said, fixing him with her eyes. They were glassy and calm, but her face was full of grief. “It was about her, Tony. It was a memory.” He froze. “They killed her Tony. But I felt it. It was me. They killed me.” There was something dreadful in the speech plate’s passive delivery.

“Shit,” he whispered.

“I want Maggie.”

He already had his phone out. “Maggie went home, but I’m calling her now.”

“I want Maggie.” Her body behaved as though she was furious. Her speech plate merely stated the words.

“Maggie, get down here now,” Tony said into the phone. “Taina, what happened in your dream?”

Faintly, Taina could hear the voice in the phone utter a muffled “Oh, fuck.” She locked eyes with Tony and pulled the speech plate out of its socket.

“Just hurry, Maggie. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He turned on the lights and put on a pot of tea while they waited. Taina didn’t drink any at first, but soon her nerves began to calm down a little, and she took a sip – then downed the whole steaming mug. She coughed a little, and it was strange to hear the sound coming from her own throat. He poured her another and said “Slowly, this time.” She nodded. He went to her closet and found some simple clothes and turned around when she put them on. Mostly though, he just sat in one of the chairs by the kitchen table and waited.

Ulis arrived in about thirty minutes. She and Lewitz spoke hurriedly in the kitchen, and he explained everything he knew. She thanked him and told him he should probably leave, but before he could, Taina scrambled for her speech plate and slid the jack into her skull.

“Tony,” she said. “Thank you.”

He smiled awkwardly and looked at his toes. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “I’m just gonna give you girls some space, okay?” She nodded, and he left.

---

“She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry,” Ulis said to Lewitz. He shrugged. “Actually I think she said ‘mortified,’ but….”

“Small words, yeah, I got it,” Lewitz said, waving his hand. “It’s not a problem, really, I get it.”

“I don’t know.” Spence had come in as soon as he could, a sort of emergency meeting. “I think it might actually be a pretty serious problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, “so far, we’ve only been dealing with the physical trauma of her physical injuries. And we’ve done a damn good job of repairing that physical damage… maybe too good of a job. Because now she’s starting to uncover psychological trauma – something that she’s buried for, who knows, decades?” They all frowned. “I can’t make a chip to fix that. Nobody can make a chip to fix that.”

They were silent for a minute and then Ulis spoke up. “Well we’ve got to do something,” she said.

“Did she tell you what happened to her?” asked Lewitz.

Ulis nodded. “It’s bad,, Tony. It’s…. it’s really bad.” They were somber. “But this was just the first time she’s remembered – it won’t be the last. And the rest….. it fucking scares me, but the rest might be even worse. She’s got that feeling. I do too.”

“Christ.”

“Then we put an end to it,” said Spence. “We’ll use the traffic data, figure out which connections are bringing up these memories when she’s asleep, and we disable them.”

Ulis looked shocked. “You’re joking.”

Lewitz came to his defense. “Maggie, you said it yourself. This is some bad shit in her past, maybe even just the tip of a very bad iceberg. We’ve all got some bad memories, but who knows how she’s experiencing hers? For all we know, tonight was like literally living through it again – whatever it was. Maybe if you told us what…”

Ulis frowned. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Don’t say anything,” Spence agreed, “and Tony, thanks for everything, but seriously back off.”

“Hey,” he protested.

Ulis slapped her desk and they both shut up. “Listen,” she said. “We all signed up for this because we want to help Taina. And if we can help some more people too, all the better – but this is about her. Not your deal with Pryce, not your patents, this is about her.”

Lewitz rubbed his chin. “All I’m trying to do is help her, Maggie. I see the titanic sailing for an iceberg and I want to delete the iceberg. Is that wrong?”

“Yes,” said Ulis. “Because the ship already crashed, and you can’t just take that away by forcing her to ignore it.”

“And if she wants to ignore it?” asked Spence. Ulis threw her hands up. “Alright, alright. Let’s just slow down, okay? Maggie, what do you think we should do?”

She sighed. “I think we need to take her through it. All of it, from the very beginning, or whatever’s left after the hatchet-job someone made of her cortex.” Lewitz felt like this was directed at him, and rolled his eyes dramatically – but Spence shut him down with a threatening look, and Ulis kept talking. “We need a professional psychiatrist on retainer – someone we can get a hold of, any time of night, and have them here in minutes.”

“That’s going to cost us,” Lewitz moaned.

“Take my fucking shares,” Ulis retorted.

“That’s not what he means,” said Spence, “and Maggie, really, try to calm down, alright? We’re on the same side here.” She took a few breaths and counted to ten. “We’re going to handle this your way, because that’s what’s best for Taina. Even if we try to shut down the neural pathways, who’s to say we get them all? What kind of limitations might that impose on her?” He shook his head. “We’re going to hire a psychiatrist. And when we do that, our company is going to suffer a lot – but we’re going to do it anyway. We just found out that our chip can uncover deep emotional pain. We just found out that we might be hurting Taina, and I’m fucking pissed about that. Investors are gonna be pissed when they find out. But we’re not going to hide it – we’re going to keep on helping her as best we can. Does anybody have a problem with that?”

He looked around the room. Lewitz raised his hand. “First of all, I’m on board, a hundred percent. Second, I’m sorry if I sounded like a dick. Okay? Okay.” He leaned forwards. “This is going to fuck over the Pryce deal. He got Reager running scared, because we proved to them that their drones could get their lives back, something that could ruin them to the tune of a few trillion dollars, okay, that’s a big deal to these people. So they made peace with us, because they thought they had to.” He took a deep breath. “When they see us looking for psych hires, that’s our blood in the water, and they’re going to be on us like sharks. We are not ready to hold them off. They have assets we can’t possibly match. They’ll take us to court, they’ll sue for custody, they’ll drag up the paperwork we signed to get Taina here in the first place and try to undo it all. Because now they know they have a chance to torpedo everything you’ve done. Everything you could do, in the future. They can ruin it all.”

Ulis bit her lip. Spence rubbed his forehead.

“Now, like I said. I’m on board, a hundred percent. That is who we’re up against. Are we all clear on that?” They gave somber nods. “So with that in mind, Maggie, please, for the love of god…. Is there any chance that a psych is really going to be able to help her? Meaning, before Reager Corp tears this place down.”

She closed her eyes. “All we can do is try.”

Spence slumped. “Alright,” he said at last. “So what do we tell Taina about all this?” That question hung in the air, unanswered.

“There’s one more thing,” Ulis said. “I know we can’t do it, not now, not until she says so, and even then maybe not until after we can survive Reager’s pushback… And I can’t tell you why, which sucks, I know, but…”

“What, Maggie?”

She had tears in her eyes. “We should be talking to the police.”

---

Taina spent more time in the medical wing now. Sometimes she slept in her old bed, with her chip in diagnostic mode. Tony and Al said it was “just in case,” but they wouldn’t tell her just-in-case-what. They said to keep it a secret from Maggie, and she did, even though she didn’t like it. The speech plate’s tonal limitations made it easy to lie.

After a few days, she was introduced to Doctor Havar, who said to call her Patricia. She was an older woman – the oldest person that Taina had ever met, in fact – and she tried to explain to Taina all about dreams. What they were, what they weren’t, where they came from and what, if anything, they meant. Patricia didn’t understand that her dream was different. Taina explained it to her with, she thought, very simple terms – her chipset specifications, the traffic patterns and organic and inorganic interfacing within the cranial cavity of a lobotomized patient. Doctor Havar couldn’t follow, and she couldn’t help. After the second visit, she didn’t come back.

After a few days had passed, Doctor Troy appeared – wire-thin with a neat beard and square-rim glasses which he wore for style, and not because he was awaiting eye surgery. Taina didn’t like him and she didn’t think he liked her either. He only came once. After him was a strange creature called a Gnalang, an alien species she read about on the net. He had a reptilian voice and something about it unsettled her so intensely that she fled the room. She said she was going to the bathroom, and asked for Maggie to come along, and told her that she wanted it to leave and when Maggie asked what ‘it’ was, she said “the voice,” and nothing more. Gnalang was gone by the time she came back.

A day or two later, Maggie sat down with Taina and put a hand on her knee. “Do you understand why we’ve brought these psychiatrists to see you?” she asked.

“It’s about my dream,” Taina said. “Or….. whatever it was. My brain says dream but I don’t mean dream. I don’t know what to call it.”

Maggie nodded. “That’s okay. I think you’re right – it’s something else, something that maybe nobody has experienced before – or wouldn’t know, if they had. It’s unique, like you.”

“Unique,” Taina repeated. “Meaning there is only one of them.”

Maggie frowned and looked away. “I don’t think so,” she said.

“Will I have more?” Her muscles tensed.

Maggie thought. “Have you read about psychological trauma?” she asked.

“I know the words,” Taina said, but her face looked uncertain.

“A long time ago… before we found you, before we put that chip in your head, there was a girl. Something terrible happened to her, and she nearly died – and the only way she could go on living was to forget what happened. Her mind buried the bad memories, so deep that it couldn’t find them anymore – and on top of that, something, or a lot of things maybe, happened to damage her brain. It didn’t even know where the memories were buried anymore – it couldn’t get to them, even if it wanted to. Then one day, years and years later, we put her brain back together.”

“You helped her,” said Taina, “and she’s grateful.”

“Only, now her brain is curious. It’s poking around, and because of the tools we gave it, it’s finding things that should stay buried.”

Taina shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I want….” Then she paused, and fixed Maggie with a gaze, artificial eyes but sincere in every other respect. “You found this girl, and she was already hurt, and she was barely alive, and all you wanted to do was help her. I want to help her too.”

“It could hurt you,” Maggie said.

“Yes,” said Taina. “But it’s worth it, if I can remember something that helps her.”

Maggie was confused. “You know I’m talking about you, right, Taina?”

She shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s difficult…. I am that girl, and I am not. I’m someone else entirely, except in that dream, it was me, too. I don’t understand it yet. But I don’t want to forget it. If I forget it, she’s gone.”

“You might be better off that way,” Maggie admitted, hating herself for even thinking it.

“I don’t care,” said Taina. “I know you’re all trying to help me. But if we work together, I think we can help her, too. Somehow. I want to try that. I want to do that.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright,” she said. “If you really mean it….”

“I do.”

“Then I know what we should do first.” She squeezed Taina’s leg. “Together.”

---

All four of them waited in the penthouse lobby. Spence could feel the tension – particularly between Ulis and Lewitz, but for now at least they were at a sort of cease-fire, with all eyes on the next collective undertaking. A smallship descended towards the landing pad outside, with its white strobe and blue ring. It landed, and two men stepped out, wearing ankle-length silver coats.

“Are you ready?” Spence turned, surprised to see that it was Taina speaking.

“We’re ready,” he replied. “You can still change your mind.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she said. She was standing tall. “Buckle up.” She marched towards the door.

Spence shot Ulis a glance, and Ulis shrugged. “She’s been watching old movies.” They followed her.

The two uniformed men entered and offered badges and introductions. The elder of the two, a grey-haired and grizzled veteran, was in fact the junior officer, who introduced himself as Detective Bunsen. He had tired eyes. His partner, the lead investigator, was Detective Anyang, with olive skin, dark hair, and an exceptionally professional demeanor. Spence suggested that they move the conversation into the conference room downstairs, but Taina overruled him and said she wanted to get it done here.

“Would you perhaps like a little privacy?” asked Detective Anyang. He was looking at the small gaggle of scientists and, with a glimmer of disdain, his partner.

“No,” Taina replied. “I want everyone to hear what I have to say.”

They sat on a set of couches near the window. Lewitz went towards reception to gather tea for everyone, and Detective Bunsen went with him to carry a few mugs. Anyang produced a holotape recorder and placed it in the middle of the group. He flicked it on, stated the time and date and the participants’ names for the record, then he turned to Taina. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

“My name is Taina,” she began, then got a little flustered and added, “obviously….” Ulis took her hand. “A long time ago, I was taken as a hostage. I don’t know why. I was a captive of three men, and…. They hurt me.” She seemed to be almost as composed as her speech plate made her sound.

“Do you know their names?” asked Detective Anyang.

“No,” she said. “That is – I do know them, I think. I must. Only I can’t remember yet.”

“Do you remember anything about them? What they looked like?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you describe them?”

She thought about it. “One of them was….. like him,” she said, pointing to Detective Bunsen, who had just arrived with tea. He made a face. “Only, different, in his eyes, and his nose….”

Anyang furrowed his brow. “When you say ‘like him,’ do you mean that he was old?”

“I don’t know.”

Anyang looked at the others. Spence jumped in. “Taina is recovering from a severe brain injury, one we believe she suffered at the hands of these captors. You’re only the eighth person she’s seen since her operation…”

Anyang nodded. “Right,” he said, sounding more delicate. Perhaps a little too delicate. It made Spence uneasy. “This man….. he had hair? Was he human?”

“Yes,” Taina said. “And yes. His hair was like yours.” Bunsen scowled, then suddenly his eyes widened and he gathered up the offending hair under his cap. “I could draw him,” she said.

“That can wait.” Anyang folded his hands. “You’re doing fine. Who else was there?” That overt delicate tone again. Spence frowned.

“The other two men,” she said. “One was…. More like me,” she said, touching a finger to the right side of her skull where the speech plate and output panels protruded from her skin. “Only more, all over.”

“Black market Cyber,” Bunsen whispered. Anyang shot him a look. He ignored it. “Do you know when this happened?”

“A very long time ago,” Taina said. “She was….. I….. was very young. I think.”

“How old are you now?” Bunsen asked.

“I don’t know.”

They collectively blinked. Bunsen rubbed his lip. “Still, twenty, thirty years back. Gotta be black market. Service maybe, but….”

“Could be. We don’t know,” said Anyang. Bunsen shrugged and sipped his tea. “What about the third?”

Taina’s lip trembled. “He was a monster.” Composing herself. “Like a lizard.”

“Saurian?” asked Anyang. Bunsen made a snorting noise. “Did he have a spine,” asked Anyang, making a fin with his hand on the top of his head, “like this?”

“No,” she said.

“Not Saurian then,” said Bunsen. Anyang shot him some more ire and he went back to his tea.

“He sounded like this,” said Taina. She pulled the speech plate out of her head, which made both the detectives recoil uncomfortably. She fiddled with the settings and plugged it back in. When she spoke, her voice was modulated to sound distinctly reptilian. “Like this,” she said. “Only lower. Hold on, I can….”

Anyang raised his hands. He was grimacing. “That’s…. that’s alright, Taina, I think I’ve got it.” This time Bunsen shot ire at his partner, and Anyang had no response.

“Go ahead and put it back,” he said, sounding relaxed. “I apologize, we’re not used to seeing that.”

Taina made a face, then pulled out her speech plate again and adjusted it. When she was finished, she went on with her account. “They opened her head. The three of them. They thought she was unconscious, but she wasn’t. They opened her head and they cut away pieces of her.”

Bunsen covered his mouth with his hand. Anyang fought back some emotion. “Do you know why?”

“She wasn’t working.”

“Her brain, you mean?”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “But before that…” Her head turned so that her mechanical eyes fell on Bunsen. “The one like you, he…” Her speech plate stopped abruptly. Maggie squeezed her hand. “He touched her.”

At that revelation, Bunsen stood up abruptly. “Boys,” he said, looking at the other men in the room, “out, all of us. Give the lady some room.”

“No,” said Taina. “Stay, please. I want you all to hear it.” He sat back down. She spoke the monstrous truth without inflection. “He kissed her. He touched her all over, said he loved her and he was sorry. Then he used a Stryker saw and cut her head open. The other two helped him. They cut her brain, slowy, and she could feel herself dying, slowly. Then I woke up.”

---

The detectives wanted to keep Maggie behind for some more questions, so Spence took Taina back to her room. Lewitz and Maggie were left alone with the two detectives. As soon as Taina had left the room, Lewitz began to shake with rage.

Detective Bunsen noticed. “Can’t say I feel any different,” he muttered.

“Motherfuckers,” he growled. Then he looked up with eyes full of fire. “Tell me you’re going to nail them.”

Bunsen’s reaction was somewhere between unmoved and annoyed. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna try. Thing is…”

“Don’t give me some statute of limitations bullshit. Do you have any idea how she experiences these memories? It’s like they’re doing it to her right now. Could do it again every night for the rest of her life.”

“Who’s brilliant idea was that?” That pacified Lewitz, and then Bunsen shook his head. “Nah, it’s not some bureaucratic crap. Someone gets to doing black shit like that to a little girl, they never get clean – if we track ‘em down after the statute, we usually find out they graduated to some other supremely twisted fuckheadedness, and we can burn ‘em for that. No, that’s not the problem.” Lewitz seemed ready to hit him, which registered as amusing, if anything, on Bunsen’s face. “The real pain in the dick is, you can’t take two steps in an underworld sewer without getting shit on both your shoes, so these class-A cunts wind up with a very short lifespan. They make enemies and do the Darwin thing. Don’t get me wrong, I wanna pull ‘em apart with my bare hands, every bit as much as you do – but seems like someone always beats us to it. What they sow? That’s what they reap. It ain’t justice but it’s something.”

“Fuck that,” said Lewitz.

“Yeah,” Bunsen agreed.

Elsewhere in the lobby, Maggie cornered Detective Anyang, once he had finished up his questions about Taina’s condition. “What happens now?” she asked.

He bit his lip. “Well,” he began, “we’re gonna open a case and start digging. It’s a big galaxy out there, but not so many people in it that we can’t find what we’re looking for.”

She blinked. “Do… do you think you can find them?”

Anyang scrunched up his eyes. “Hard to say,” he admitted. “It happened a long time ago, and we don’t have much to go on. Even if we did, they didn’t leave much evidence behind, and all her surgeries probably erased whatever’s left. Without a rock-solid witness testimony this is gonna be hard to prosecute.”

“You’re saying that because of her condition, you can’t charge the people who put her in that condition?”

“No, no not at all,” he said defensively – but Maggie guessed otherwise. “We’re going to do everything in our power to bring them to justice.” There was something hollow in his tone. He noticed it, and tried a different tack. “Can I be honest with you?” he asked. She nodded. “Cases like this… horrible, just gut-wrenchingly awful cases though they may be, when enough time has passed, they have a real bad closure rate.” She became indignant, but he kept talking. “I’m one of the best, okay? Detective Bunsen has been around the block a few times himself. We know what we’re doing. So please understand that I’m trying to help.”

“Really,” she spat. He sighed.

“Look….. She’s only had the one dream, right?” Maggie nodded. “I’m not a scientist, let alone…. I mean, you people are incredible. Way above my level. But if I could give you some advice? If I were you, I’d be looking for ways to make sure that’s the only dream that poor woman ever has to suffer through.”

---

Maggie came in early the next morning. When she went to Taina’s room, she found it empty. Her bed was made, and resting on top, a note. It read, “Observation Room – Tony.” She thought of what the detective had said, and of what Lewitz had suggested earlier about shutting off Taina’s buried memories permanently. She crumpled the note in her fist and ran.

When she burst into the control room, she was ready to raise absolute hell. To her surprise, she found Taina inside, sitting at Lewitz’s monitor. He was leaning over her shoulder and explaining something on the screen, and both their heads turned in unison to see Maggie standing there in the door. Their eyes were glinting together in a very strange way – Taina’s with an inhuman sheen from the monitor light, and Lewitz’s with the spark of an idea.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asked.

“Something brilliant,” said Lewitz.

“When you aren’t here at night,” said Taina, “Tony and Al have been mapping the neural traffic across my chip. I haven’t had any other dreams, but by eliminating the active ports when I’m not dreaming, I think we can isolate the connections that lead to my suppressed memories.”

Maggie didn’t know how to respond, so she simply asked, “You’re going to shut them off?”

“No,” said Taina. “We’re going to turn them up.”

“It was Taina’s idea,” said Lewitz. “We’ve been tracing the connections to clusters in her prefrontal cortex. Like untangling a knot – once you find a loose end, you can pull it through the tangle and the knot comes looser bit by bit.”

“Can you do that?” Maggie asked.

“The chip can handle it,” said Taina. “The trick is going to be, how do we pull the data out of my brain and force it through the circuit.”

Maggie was dumbfounded. “You’re hacking into your own brain?”

“Yes.” An emotionless voice from the speech plate.

Lewitz came over to Maggie and put an arm around her shoulders. “You were right, Maggie. You were right all along. We need to take her through it all, from the beginning – and this is how we do it. We control it. We can sedate her, and stimulate her brain with microshock to draw out the memories. We can use the diagnostic mode to keep an eye on things, and if it gets too hairy, we wake her up.”

“What do you mean, if it gets too hairy?”

“Psychogenic shock,” said Taina’s emotionless speech plate.

“Jesus,” Maggie whispered. “Tony this could fucking kill her.”

“I know,” Taina said. “Defibrillator’s no good with the chip. You’re going to need to have epinephrine standing by in case I crash.”

Maggie looked at her. “Taina you can’t be serious.”

“Why?” she asked. She spun in her chair. “The detectives need more information. The girl in my dreams…. She must have heard their names, must have seen something they could use to create a timeline. There is data hiding in my brain, data they need to find the men who did this to her.”

“To you,” Maggie said. “They did it to you, Taina.”

“All the more reason,” said Lewitz. “Maggie I want to find these people.”

“I do too, but this…”

“This is how we do it.” Taina almost sounded resolute – but that was impossible. “Maggie, this is happening.”

She wanted to stop them, but she knew she couldn’t. “Alright,” she said in surrender. “But you’re not going under unless I’m there to watch you. And if I say it’s time to pull you out, you’re coming out.”

“Understood,” said Taina. She turned back to the monitor. “Would you call Al?”

“Why?” Maggie asked.

“Now that you’re on board,” said Taina, “I need you to ask him for something.”

---

Taina lay on the observation table. She had asked for restraints around her wrists and ankles. Spence was with her. She nodded at him, and he unplugged her speech plate. In its place he slid a modified version – one that he had built at Taina’s request. He looked at his reflection in the one-way glass of the observation window, and saw a grave expression staring back. Taina snorted to get his attention. They locked eyes and she nodded again. Spence stuck a needle into her IV line, and pushed the sedative through. Taina’s eyes never fully closed – the prosthetics were limited in that way – but all her muscles relaxed, and she sank against the table, asleep.

Spence looked up. “Are we ready?”

Behind the glass, Ulis and Lewitz were waiting. Ulis nodded and pressed a speaker button. “Ready.” She released the button. “Tony, go.”

“Right.” He tapped out a series of commands, surging a tiny amount of electricity through the chosen nodes on Taina’s brain chip. On the table, Taina convulsed slightly. Her eyelids flickered over metallic eyes. Spence had monitors reading her vital signs, but he put his fingers against her neck anyway to feel her pulse for himself. It quickened.

“Traffic is picking up,” said Tony. “Here she comes.”

The modified speech plate on Taina’s head crackled to life. It played sounds, voices – not from Taina’s Broca’s area, but from her prefrontal cortex. From her memory – her dream. They were reaching into the past and hearing the testimony of ghosts.

“Get in.” The voice was reptilian. Beneath it were the whimpered sounds of a child in distress.

“Please,” said a girl. She had a distinct accent – one of the border worlds, maybe, they could trace it later.

“In. Or I’ll break your other arm.”

“Please, I don’t want to, I don’t want to….”

“There you go.”

“Shut the door.” A robotic voice.

“Don’t lock me inside, not again, please, it hurts…”

“Ready.”

A hissing noise, and then static. Then an urgent beeping – not from the speech plate, but from the monitors. “Shit,” said Lewitz. He looked at Maggie. “She’s crashing.”

“Al!” Maggie shouted, punching the button on the wall. He was already moving. Spence shoved a needle into her IV and pumped it hard, then felt her pulse again. Maggie flew out of the observation room, turned a sharp corner, and burst into the OR. Al was getting ready to give chest compressions. Maggie ripped the defibrillator off the wall and rubbed the paddles together, ready to blow the chip to hell if that meant saving Taina’s life.

“Wait!” It was Lewitz, from the speaker on the wall. He hammered on the glass to get their attention. “Wait, she’s coming out.”

Spence kept his position, with his arms ready and his palms against Taina’s chest. Maggie’s eyes darted from one monitor to the next. “It’s alright,” she said. “She’s okay.”

“This was a bad idea,” said Spence.

“No shit.”

Taina’s face began to twitch. There was no specific change in her eyes – they weren’t her eyes – but she raised up a little, trying to blink, taking in the scene around her. Spence relaxed. She was looking at her speech plate.

“Here.” Maggie slid out the modified version, and installed the one she wanted.

“Did it work?” Taina asked.

“You almost died,” said Maggie.

“Did it work?” The tone produced was identical, but her face was impatient.

The wall speaker clicked. “Yeah,” said Lewitz. “Yeah, it worked.”

Taina lay back. “Good.”

---

When they played her the tape, she furrowed her brow. “The girl in the dream didn’t speak,” she said.

“But we heard her. That’s her voice, isn’t it?”

“Was there someone else with you?” Maggie asked.

“No, I was alone. It was just like you heard…. Only, she didn’t speak.”

Spence rubbed his chin. “It sounds like they were putting you into something, some kind of escape pod maybe?” She described what she’d seen – a steel coffin, full of metal grating, and a thick white gas. When she breathed it in she choked, and that was the same time that her heart stopped. “It sounds like a stasis pod,” Spence said after listening.

She shook her head slowly. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” said Spence. “But early-model stasis pods had a one-in-a-hundred failure rate. In those cases, the subject in the pod could suffer traumatic brain injury, or death.” He thought. “You also remembered them cutting into your brain…… I don’t know how it fits together. But I think the girl didn’t speak in your dream, because she couldn’t speak. What we heard through the plate – that’s what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t.”

Taina nodded. “That makes sense.”

Lewitz raised his hand. “No it doesn’t,” he said.

“Shut up, Tony,” said Maggie.

He pouted. “They’re not….. the brain doesn’t work that way,” he said. “It just doesn’t.”

Taina was stoic. “Maybe mine does,” she said.

As nobody could come up with a compelling argument against it, Lewitz let that stand.

“Al,” Taina said, changing gears, “it all felt too muddled. Next time we need to use less zolpidem.”

The scientists looked at one another, and Spence spoke for all three. “Taina, we can’t possibly do this again.”

“We can,” she said. “We will. We need more information.”

“No. I’m putting my foot down. You’re not doing this anymore.”

She stood up angrily. “You don’t get to put your foot down,” she said in her default tone. “These are my memories. I need them.”

“Not at this cost,” he said, staying firm. “I’m sorry. I won’t subject you to these risks. I just won’t do it.”

She scowled. “Please.”

Spence shook his head, and Maggie took his arm. “It’s for the best, Taina,” she said.

Taina slapped the monitor and stormed out.

---

Reager Corp’s legal onslaught came down in a flurry over the course of three days. It was as bad as Lewitz had predicted, and worse. They challenged the custody paperwork, claiming a legal precedent and a good-faith exchange for test subjects and fraud and a dozen other crimes. Spence was forced to hire attorneys just to fend off Reager’s attempts to forcibly remove Taina from the building; as a result, his research capital ran dry. The investors they’d garnered with the now-defunct Pryce valuation jumped ship, and new offers dried up. In a matter of days, it seemed the company was dead.

They held a meeting, and included Taina – who still glowered about Spence’s call on her brain hack. They considered their options, and agreed to shutter the research building for the time being. The equipment would be moved into storage, and the building leased out to cover legal expenses. When it was over, assuming they survived, they could sue Reager for damages and rebuild – but for all intents and purposes, it was done. This left Taina in a vulnerable position.

“I don’t think you’re safe on your own,” Lewitz told her. “Dreams aside, Reager might come after you. After your chip. If they can get their hands on you, who knows what they’ll do? Reverse engineering – or worse, extract it altogether, and fit you with one of their drives.”

“Would they really do that?” asked Spence. “That’s got to be criminal, no matter what their injunctions say.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Lewitz agreed. “But it could make money, so somebody over there is thinking about it. Possession is ninety percent of the law. If they can lay their hands on her, what can we do about it?”

“I’m not a pawn,” Taina said. “They can’t just abduct me and pull my head apart.” The echo of her memories was not lost on anyone.

“You can stay with me,” Maggie offered. “I’ll get you a bed, a room, anything you need. Keep an eye on you.”

“Thank you,” Taina said. “But I think I’d rather be on my own for a while.” She was still hurting – still felt that Maggie and Spence had betrayed her, and she wasn’t ready to give that up. “I’ve been searching the net since you warned me this could happen. There’s a studio in Tony’s apartment building, just a few floors down.” She looked at him. “Would that be alright?” He nodded. “Only, I don’t have any money…”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Spence. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re still my patient, and that means you’re my responsibility. I’m going to take care of you.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said.

“We’re all here for you, Taina. No matter what.”

The arrangement moved Taina into a new phase of her life, outside recovery. She had the help of the others at first, but gradually over days and weeks, she began to go out into the public on her own to buy things for her apartment or just to eat at the Ramen-Ya! on the corner. Over time, she became friends with Curtis Thompson, the wrinkled and deep-voiced chef there, and started helping him around the shop. She used the money to buy nice things for Maggie, feeling badly about the strain on their relationship. One day, the Curtis asked if she wanted to work full-time, or on her own time, whatever she could manage, and she agreed.

About that time, an idea struck her. It was something she had been harboring for some time, but as the legal battle against Reager worsened and her independence grew, it seemed like a tipping point. She called Lewitz, and asked him to meet her at the shop to talk. She was cutting poultry when he arrived, and she took him to a table in back so they could have some privacy.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

She wanted to ease him into it. “Just wondering if there’s any news on the Reager thing,” she said. “Any boogie men coming in the night to steal me away, you know, that sort of thing.”

“There’s no such thing as monsters, child,” he said in a mocking tone. All three of the doctors treated her something like a daughter, even though, judging by appearances alone, she was every bit as old as Maggie. It might have been annoying, if it weren’t so sweet. “No, I think we’ve dodged that bullet,” he went on. “This whole move might have actually helped us on that front. You living out here by yourself, I mean. Makes it a lot harder for them to argue you need to be institutionalized in court. How are you doing, by the way?”

“Fine,” she said. She pulled out her apron. “Got a job and everything. Full time.”

“You know, when I worked in the Ward, you were there for six years. Never once in that whole time did I have thought I’d see you pulling down real, actual wages.” She could tell he meant well by it. “Not until Al and Maggie came in and told me what they thought you could do. You’ve come such a long way.”

“I’ve got you to thank for it,” she said. “All of you.” They smiled. Then she took a step closer to her agenda. “What about…. The other thing?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow, not registering the question. “With Bunsen and Anyang?”

He folded his hands. “Ah. That.” A cloud came over him, like anger, only not at her…. At himself? “The shit part of that is, I haven’t even thought about it in days.”

She felt some of his anger, too, but she let it slide. “You’ve had a lot on your plate,” she said.

He looked up at the Ramen-Ya! sign in the window. “Funny,” he said, but he wasn’t laughing. “Last time I checked in, Bunsen was still on the trail. Trouble is he’s on a lot of other trails, too, and this one is cold as hell.”

“And Anyang?”

“Wants nothing to do with you,” he said, feeling the weight of each word. “He says otherwise, runs his mouth with all that ‘Protect and Serve’ crap, but it’s clear enough. Bunsen says we can’t count on the Career Kid – and he’s a detective, so you know he’s right.” He sighed. “Truth is, Taina…. I think we lost it. We were close, but without that window into your memories, they’re never gonna catch those pricks.”

Here they were at last. Taina readied herself. “What if we still had that window?” she asked.

Swing and a miss. Lewitz just shrugged. “Maybe Bunsen would run down whatever leads we could come up with, but like I said, I’m not the only one with my hands full.”

“I mean,” she said, “what if we could dig something up? Something real? What if we could find out who they are, where they are?”

“We can’t,” Lewitz reminded her.

“But what if we could?” The light glinted in her mechanical eyes.

He frowned. “I don’t think I like where you’re going,” he said.

“Tony.” She reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. “Three men kidnapped me. They held me captive for god knows how long. They raped me. They tore out half my brain and they tried to kill me – and that’s just what I remember after ten minutes of hacking my brain.”

She could feel his muscles tensing up with each word. “I remember,” he said. There was a darkness in his voice which her speech plate couldn’t match – but she felt every ounce of it in her heart.

She leaned back. “So why aren’t we doing anything about it?”

The words stung, but he recovered. “Lots of reasons,” he said, forming the thought as he spoke it, “starting with number one, we don’t have the equipment anymore.”

“But we could,” she said. “We lost the building but everything is still in storage. Everything we need.”

He pulled himself out of her grip and leaned back. “You want me to steal company equipment.”

“Your company,” she said.

“That’s not…. That doesn’t mean I can just take it,” he said, “even if I wanted to – which I’m not sure I do.”

“Yes you are. You’re dead sure,” she said. She wanted to whisper it, but was forced to convey this by leaning in closer. “From the minute you found out what those bastards did to me, there’s only one thing you’ve wanted.”

He scowled, and closed his eyes. “I fucking hate myself for it sometimes,” he said, but he also nodded.

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asked. Her jaw was set. Her brow was determined. He knew what she meant to do.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

“Alright what – you’re going to help me?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “My way. I’ll get the gear when I can, find a place I can set up. In the meantime you don’t do anything. Understand?”

She frowned. “I’m not going to wait around forever,” she said. It was an idle thread – she had no other recourse besides Tony, certainly not Al or Maggie. If he refused, she was sunk. But the threat worked.

“I know. I got it.” He stood up. “Taina,” he said, getting ready to leave. She craned her neck. “Not a word of this to Maggie.”

“Not a word of this to Al, either,” she warned him, just in case he was thinking about it.

---

She phoned him a few days later and told him he was about to get his chance. A traveling festival was landing near the equator. Taina had been saving her money from the Ramen-Ya! and she was taking Ulis and Spence as a sort of peace-offering. While she had them out of the city, Tony would be free to raid the storage facility so they could get a new diagnostic room set up. He didn’t express any reservations – though she thought maybe she heard something in his voice – and the plan went into motion.

Taina hadn’t thought of transportation to and from the festival, so when Spence and Ulis arrived, they had to flag a shuttle. It was the first time she’d flown – at least, the first time she could remember – and she got sick on the way there, so the conversation started off poorly. But before long, they were walking carnied streets and watching the rides, while alien harmonics blared from loudspeakers in the background. Ulis bought them cotton candy, and frowned a little when Taina had a hard time eating it. Her tongue didn’t move the right way. But she tore off little pieces with her fingers and managed to enjoy it.

They spent most of the day talking about nonsense and playing games. The ones Spence picked out were all about intellect – guessing which cup had the marble, or outsmarting somebody. He was good at those games. Ulis didn’t show any particular preference for anything, unless there was a big stuffed animal as a prize – but she never won any. Taina gravitated towards the games with guns. One of the carnies said that her eyes were an unfair advantage, but Ulis got him to fork over a teddy bear anyway. Taina was a good shot, and that made her wonder about things she couldn’t think about in her present company, so she forced it aside.

She felt better on the ride back, and Ulis and Spence wanted to talk, so she told them everything they wanted to hear. She said she was doing really great, that she didn’t feel bad about what happened between them, she forgave them. She said they’d get together more often, and got pigeon-holed into a lunch over the weekend. They dropped her off on the roof of her apartment. Ulis got out with her and walked her to her door, and gave her a hug and told her how proud she was.

As soon as she was gone, Taina got out her phonelink and dialed Tony. “Did you get it?” she asked when he picked up.

“Come upstairs,” he said.

She was in 303. His room was 913. She took the lift and made her way down the hall, and found that his door was already open. She knocked as she pushed inside.

“In here,” he said from the back. He was in the den. The whole room was littered with wires, spreading all over the floor, some taped crudely to the walls and ceiling. Tony was setting up one of the laboratory monitors next to a reclining chair.

She took it all in. “Nice work,” she said.

“Rule one,” he said, standing up and wiping some sweat from his forehead. “From now on, when you come up here, you bring me ramen. Cool?”

She feigned shock. “You’re charging me?”

“It’s medically necessary,” he said, sounding almost serious. “I don’t cook, and if you saw what’s in my freezer you’d want somebody else holding the epinephrine.”

“Fine, fine, ramen, got it.”

“Good,” he said. “Rule two…”

“How many rules are there going to be?” she asked, tapping her foot.

“Rule two,” he repeated. “Never touch my remote control.” She fished it off the couch and handed it to him. “And rule three. Either one of us can call a stop, any time, for any reason, no questions asked.”

Taina thought about Maggie’s old terms. “Well at least you’re giving me a vote,” she said.

“This is serious,” he said. “We’re after the same assholes, and believe me when I tell you, I want them as bad as you do. I’m not going to hold you back – I promise. But I’m not gonna watch you die on my couch, either. If I say you need a break, it’s because you need a break.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed. She kicked a wire on the ground. “Can I give you a rule, too?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She kicked it again. “No going over my head,” she said. He squinted. “This is my life. I’m the victim. So only I get to decide when it’s time to bring other people in.”

He narrowed his eyes even further. “You mean Maggie and Al?” he asked.

“I mean anybody,” she said. He still didn’t get it. “I mean the silvercoats, too.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”

She opened her hands to the room. “Alright,” she said. “So how do we do this?”

Tony stepped out from his work with the monitor and started pointing at various things to go along with his explanation. “Heart rate, pulse, BP. IV, zolpidem, epi pens.”

“You had that many drugs in storage?” He didn’t answer. “Nevermind, I don’t need to know.”

He went on. “Al’s modified speech plate is gone – think he’s holding on to it himself, or took it apart to expo, I don’t know, it wasn’t in storage. So I rigged this up instead – it won’t play back in real time, but it’ll record so we can watch it later.” He showed her a wire that was hooked up to his television screen. “Also, I’ve given it some thought. You know about REM cycles? Good. If we wait out your REM, we might be able to bring you back into the world a little more stable – maybe avoid all the needle-play like we had last time. You won’t remember as much right away, probably – not clear on how that works yet with the chip – but as long as we’ve got the recording, that’s no skin off our backs.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. Truth be told, she liked the idea. It felt like a compromise between reliving the pain and distancing herself, and as long as it worked, she was game. But if they missed any key visual cues in the process, she wouldn’t forgive herself.

Tony must have been thinking the same thing. “There’s something else I can try,” he said. “I’m not going to do it right off the bat, so don’t ask. But if the audio jury-rig works, and if the slow-wake is viable – and if you’re into it – I can try to hotwire a lead into those eyes of yours.”

She half-blinked. “Is that even possible?”

He shrugged. “I have literally no idea,” he said. “But we can try it. That’s desperation tactics though. I make one mistake and you’re blind again – and then I’d have to explain how that happened to Al, and the game is up.”

She might have risked it, but for that last bit. Taina nodded. “Alright, so we hold off on the eyes,” she agreed. “Anything else?”

He thought about it for a second. “Well, I watch Space Marines every night at nine, so we can’t start until nine thirty.”

“Yes, commander,” she said, saluting.

“Jesus, I was kidding.”

“Of course, commander.” She saluted again. They laughed – and then the laughter died, and there was just a blackness left. “Let’s get them, Tony,” she said.

He saluted. “Yes, commander.” She lay down on the couch.

---

The first two nights passed without incident. The tapes worked, but they didn’t reveal anything more than breathing. Tony and Taina talked it over and realized that she had potentially years of untapped memories, and no way to control which ones surfaced under stimuli, which made their project a very daunting one. Tony said he would work on ways to target memories of distress, and until he figured it out they would just have to bide their time.

“What if we could do more than that?” Taina asked.

“I think we need to be careful,” he replied. “Poking around in your head, I mean, we know it’s dangerous for your health, but it could be dangerous for your memories too. We don’t want to accidentally erase something.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not talking about memories – per se. Not those memories. Something else.” She crossed her legs on the couch, and he sat up in the recliner. “In the lab,” she said, “you were able to add words to my vocabulary matrix. It was like years in a classroom, overnight. I don’t think other people can do anything like that… Maybe that gives us an advantage.”

He didn’t know what she meant, so he said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

She thought. “An example. Let’s say I wanted to learn how to fly a spaceship. Some of it, I’d have to learn by, you know, actually trying to fly – how things feel, how things smell, where to put my hands. But a lot of it is just book knowledge, right? Maybe you could teach me that part somehow – just planting it in my head, like you did with words.”

He rubbed his chin. “Well, that’s not at all what the memory drive is built for,” he said. “But hell, we’re hacking it already.”

It was the answer she was hoping for. “So let’s give it a try.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “But we’re not starting you out on spaceships. Maybe something a little less likely to blow up and kill us both.” An idea struck him. “Go to sleep. I’m gonna work on something while you dream.” She swallowed a Zolpidem pill and wondered what he was up to.

The next night when she came upstairs, he had left bags of groceries on the couch. She set down the Ramen-Ya! plates she was carrying and peeked inside. Raw eggs, butter, flour, noodles, meat, spices. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“Proof of concept,” he replied. “Make us something to eat.”

They talked again over chicken tetrazzini and garlic bread. A little burnt, but savory. “See,” he said with his mouth full, “it’s just like you said. The knowledge is all there, but the technique needs a little work.”

“Don’t insult the chef,” she teased.

“Don’t burn the fucking chicken,” he teased back. “Come on, go to sleep.”

Soon she stopped bringing food from the Ramen-Ya! She would stand in front of the stove and look at her supplies and realize that he’d given her the recipe for pizza for no other reason than he wanted pizza. Sometimes there were hiccups – he was learning how to format the knowledge and he didn’t always get it right, and his punishment was flayed basil salmon that looked and smelled more like pulled pork. They threw that one out. After a week or so of trial and error, they had the method down pretty well and Taina said it was time to graduate cooking school.

“Let’s try another language,” said Tony.

“What?”

“You once called your chip a Babel fish, remember?” She nodded. “Let’s see if we can do that for real.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Could be that in one of your memories, someone is speaking, I don’t know, Centauri. I don’t speak Centauri. You don’t speak Centauri. Maybe we miss something important.”

“So maybe you teach me how to speak Centauri.” He shrugged.

The next day when she woke up, her speech plate only spoke Centauri. It felt no different to her, but Tony couldn’t understand a word. She kept trying to tell him to switch her back, and he kept saying “What? I can’t understand. Help me out here,” and so on, until she ripped out the speech plate and reached for a pad. She scribbled on it furiously and showed it to him. It read “Put me back” – in perfect Centauri hieroglyphs. He squinted at it for a while and she looked at it, and rolled her whole head just to roll her eyes. “Hey I got an idea,” Tony said, “Don’t be mad – but I think I’m gonna put you back.” She sighed and swallowed another Zolpidem.

Taina’s dreams didn’t reveal anything of particular use for several weeks. She became better acquainted with her surroundings in the past – the room where she was usually kept locked up, the building around that. Once she thought that she had escaped captivity, because she dreamed of being outside in a field of yellow grass; but when Tony played back the tape, they heard her thoughts. How she wished they would let her leave, she didn’t want to go back, and more of the same. It was hard to hear.

“Did you see any buildings in the field?” Tony asked her. She shook her head. “It might be that they had an entire planet at their disposal.”

She gaped. “Is that even possible?”

He shrugged. “Not all worlds are like this one. The galaxy is massive. Even if you add up all the humans, the Saurians, the greys and everyone else, some estimates say there are still more planets than there are living things, just inside the galaxy itself. And if they’ve got access to Saurian tech, they might even have a hideout outside the Milky Way.” She pondered that. “Or, I mean, maybe they just had a big back yard. Point is – it’s a small detail, but it helps.”

She guessed that was true enough, though it seemed like small help. They were still poking at random into her memory – if they ever really wanted to start putting the picture together, they needed more control over what came to her at night. Tony was still working on the metrics, but he was getting closer.

---

Taina barely went to the Ramen-Ya! anymore. She stopped in to say hello to Curtis from time to time, but mostly she simply passed it on the way to the grocer. One day, as she was coming back with an armful of Tony’s programming-fuel – sugar water and beer, mostly – she saw a smallship parked at ground level outside the shop. This was odd enough, but on closer inspection, she spotted a Reager Corp logo on the tail. She quickened her pace. There were two men inside arguing with Curtis, and another in the cockpit who spotted her. She turned away and froze. Then, in a panic, she hurried across the street and made her way into the apartment building. She called Tony.

“It’s Reager,” she said. “I think they’re coming after me.”

“Fuck.” Their minds raced in unison. “Go to your apartment, and lock the door. I’m coming down.”

“I’m already here,” she said. She heard footsteps. “Tony they followed me,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

“I’m on my way, just….” The line went dead. There was a static noise in her head, outside her head, everywhere – coming from the speech plate. She tore it out, but the noise didn’t stop. Then her prosthetic eyes went dark.

She was blind again.

The phone fell out of her hands. She reached for something, anything, found a wall, and leaned against it, breathing hard. She could hear the door open, footsteps coming inside. She could hear them breathing – three men, big, heavy. She heard them talking but couldn’t tell which was which. “There.” “Fuck, phone.” “Hurry it up.” “I got her.” “Move it.” A hand on her neck, something cold against her skin. She felt weak, tried to flail out of it, but the hand held her firm. “Get the cuffs on her and let’s move, they’re coming.”

The hand grasped her wrist. Taina couldn’t explain what happened next. She felt stubby fingers trying to wrap themselves around her, control her, and all she could think was how to make it stop. She moved her arm and the cold thing on her neck vanished. The fingers on her wrist slipped away, and there was a crash. A grunt of pain. She felt herself falling, and felt her knee smash against something soft that made a retching sound.

Someone tackled her. The cold thing touched her left arm and she couldn’t move it. Her right hand made a fist and punched, punched, punched – striking only the air. Then she heard a breath, and punched again – and again, and again, and again, hurting, hand wet, until the cold thing disappeared.

Her limp tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She staggered to her feet, feeling for a wall and finding the edge of a chair. She pulled herself up – then something grabbed her and pulled her back down. She struck at it madly with fists and palms and elbows and knees and feet until it stopped.

The static noise grew louder, and louder, and became unbearable. She couldn’t find her balance, couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t think. Her throat twitched and something came out, stinging, burning, smelling. Thick arms wrapped around her abdomen. She could feel herself hauled up, dizzying, trying to struggle against it. The cold thin came back onto her neck. Then another one on her back. She couldn’t move.

Air moving, or her moving through the air. Her hair swaying. Static noise. Tremors felt through bone, tremors like footsteps on stairs, moving fast. Stopping. The world swaying, falling, crashing against her chest. Concrete slab against her skin. Trying to move, trying to scream, trying to do anything, failing. An impact on the floor near her head. Another. Something heavy falling across her back.

A gentle hand. The cold things peeled away. Lifting her up, guiding her up the stairs, putting her hand on the railing. Leaving.

The static went away. She could hear a smashing sound – metallic parts against concrete, smashing again, scraping, clattering away down the stairs in pieces. The static was gone. She heard someone grunt, someone else moan, and hard thud of leather shoes striking teeth. The gentle hand on her shoulder, taking her arm, holding her close. Tony’s voice. “Come with me,” he said. He led her down the stairs and outside.

---

They rode in a shuttle to Maggie’s place. Tony called ahead and had Al meet them there. Her eyes didn’t come back – Tony looked at them and cursed, a lot, and then told her not to worry about it. He talked her through each step of the journey, into the lift, and down the hall to Maggie’s room. Everyone was waiting.

“My god,” was the first thing she heard. Maggie wrapped herself around Taina’s torso and pulled her in so tight that it hurt. Maggie was crying. Taina might have been crying herself, but she couldn’t tell. She didn’t think she was. “What happened?”

Taina thought the words, forgetting for a moment that her speech plate was gone. Tony explained in her stead. “Someone attacked her,” he said. “They had some kind of EMP-interference rig – fried her eyes, and everything else in the building. I caught them in the stairs and we got the hell out.”

“You’re bleeding,” said Al.

“It’s nothing.” Taina hadn’t even realized he was hurt. She wanted to ask him how bad it was – wanted to see for herself how bad it was – and felt powerless because she could do neither.

“Who were they?” Al asked.

Reager, thought Taina. “Don’t know,” said Tony. “They were wearing Reager uniforms but this was a strong-armed attack. This wasn’t some kind of legal maneuver – they were trying to take her off-world.”

“Off world?”

“Had a smallship parked on the street. I’ve worked with Reager in the past, and I’ve never seen anything like it in their inventory.”

The men kept talking. Maggie dragged Taina away, into her apartment, and sat her down. Taina hadn’t even realized how tired she was, but once she was seated, she began to ache all over with exertion and swelling. Maggie tended to her with ice packs that felt just like the cold things the men had used. She fought them away. Maggie cried out in surprise, then Tony came in and explained it quietly. She apologized.

“Just rest,” she said.

“Taina,” said Tony. “Me and Al are going to go back and get your speech plate. You’re safe here, but not as safe as I’d like.” He knelt down in front of her. “Taina, I want to call the police. Can I do that?” She felt, more than heard, Maggie’s ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-even-asking-for’ interjection. She couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. “Alright. Maggie? Take care of it and keep an eye on her.”

---

Al came back with her speech plate. Tony didn’t. The police at the scene wanted to talk to him, he said as he gave her the plate. She plugged it in and tried to say anything, but all that came out was static. Al and Maggie talked, some police came by and talked, and Taina felt helpless. Without her plate she couldn’t talk, and without her eyes, she couldn’t write. The police wanted to get her account of the attack but she couldn’t give it to them, and she could feel her assailants slipping away because of it. She wanted to cry. But she couldn’t even do that.

Maggie made her go to bed. She talked about physiological reasons but Taina didn’t care about them. She asked if she could try the ice packs again and Taina shook her head, and Maggie said that was alright. She put her to bed and shut the door and handled the police until it was quiet outside. Against her will, Taina found herself slipping into sleep.

She dreamed.

---

She woke up without her speech plate. Her eyes still didn’t work, so she felt her way to the door of the bedroom and opened it.

“Hello,” said Maggie. Taina turned her head towards the voice. She sounded tired. “How are you feeling?” She shrugged. “Here, I’ll help you sit down.” Maggie led her around some furniture and put her hand on a couch cushion. She sat. “Do you want anything? Tea? Milk?” She paused after each suggestion, presumably watching for a reaction. Taina didn’t react. “I’ll just get some water. You should drink something.” Taina could hear her setting a glass down on the coffee table. “Oh,” she said, remembering. “I have a present for you.” Taina perked up. “Hang on….. I’m going to touch your head, okay? Don’t panic.”

A familiar sensation of metallic clicks and soft pads. Something heavy swung down in front of her face, just brushing the bridge of her nose. It was her visor. Recognizing this sent a wave of panic through her – someone had been to the storage facility and gotten the visor out. That meant that surely they knew about all the missing equipment Tony had taken, which meant…

“Tony dropped it off,” Maggie said. She must have sensed Taina’s panic. “I know you don’t like it, but we just have to make due for now, okay?” She flipped a switch and light returned to the world. Taina didn’t remember it looking so grainy, but then the last time she’d worn the visor, she’d been a different person. She didn’t want to hate that person – but she hated feeling like her, weak, helpless, stupid. A pawn.

“How’s that?” Maggie asked. Taina looked at her and forced a smile. Then she looked around – it was the first time she was actually seeing Maggie’s apartment. It was simple, cheerful, homey. Just like her. “Tony’s grabbing a lot of stuff out of the unit,” Maggie went on. “Said he’s going to work all night and set up a makeshift lab in his apartment. Can you imagine that?”

Taina was grateful for the visor then, because it hid some of the mischievous relief on her face. She shook her head.

“Well, once he’s ready, we’re going to fix up your eyes good as new. Meanwhile Al’s working on your plate. Says it’s going to be even better than before.” She sighed. “All we have to do is relax.” She had a hint of bitterness in her voice, but Taina couldn’t place it. She thought perhaps Maggie felt like a pawn, too – but that was only a guess.

Maggie was looking away, so Taina knocked on the table to get her attention. Then she pantomimed drawing something with a pencil. “Oh, of course….. hang on.” Maggie went off to find a pad. While she was gone, Taina spotted her phonelink on the table. She checked to make sure Maggie wasn’t looking, and swiped it. Maggie came back with the pad. “Here. Sorry, I should have thought….. sorry, I mean, that’s all.”

Taina scribbled on it and showed it to her. It read, “Police?”

Maggie nodded. “Outside. Lots of them, Taina, so don’t worry about a thing.” Taina made a show of counting on her fingers. “Tony said there were three attackers, is that right?” Taina nodded. “Good. Because we have thirty blackcoats guarding that door, so that means we outnumber them ten to one.” Taina held up her index fingers to make the number eleven. Then she pointed at Maggie, and at herself. “Damn right,” Maggie agreed.

Taina smiled, then cleared the pad and wrote again. She held it up a little sheepishly. It read, “Bathroom?”

Maggie slapped her forehead. “I’m a terrible hostess,” she said. “Follow me.”

Maggie gave her privacy and shut the door. As soon as she was alone, Taina retrieved Maggie’s phonelink from her pocket and found Tony’s number. He picked up. “Yeah?” silence. “Maggie, what’s up? Something wrong?” Longer silence. “Taina, is that you?”

Taina wanted to tell him about her dream, but she hadn’t thought it through and only now realized how stupid it was to try a phone call in her present condition. “Taina?” She pressed a button to give him a tone.

He swallowed. “Listen,” he said, “we can’t talk now. I mean….. bad choice of words, sorry. I mean….. fuck. I’m taking care of things, okay?” She gave him a tone. “This is going to slow us down a little, maybe a lot, I don’t know. We’re both gonna have to pretend, I don’t know for how long, but we have to ride this out. We’ll get back to it.” She wanted to thank him and tell him that she understood, but when she gave him the tone, it must have come across as a protest. “Hey,” he said, “I’m allowed to call a break, remember? We agreed on that. Is that okay? Shit…. Alright, hit one if that’s okay, two if that’s not okay.” She pressed one. He paused, then, embarrassed, asked “Was that a one or a two?” She pressed one, two, so he could hear the different tones, then gave him a long one. “Alright. You got the visor, right?” One. “Any problems?” Two. “Anyone try to talk to you? Even if they’re wearing a silver coat.” Two. “Alright. Don’t let anybody in there unless it’s me or Al. And, Taina?”

He took a breath. “I got a look at your apartment. I don’t know if you could tell, but you left a lot of blood in there. And I’m not talking about yours.” She didn’t remember that part. She remembered struggling, blind, paralyzed, flailing and hitting, but not hurting anybody. “What I’m saying is, I don’t think you have to be scared of these guys. I think they’re scared of you.” She pressed a long one. “I don’t know what it means. I made something up, told the cops it was all me, just in case it’s important – but you got nothing to worry about, so rest easy, okay?” She pressed one again. “Alright. Hanging up.”

Taina finished up and washed her hands. She took a long look at herself in the mirror. She’d never looked at herself through the visor before, and the image shocked her. It was a giant metallic plate that covered her upper face, from her nose to her forehead, riddled with optical sensors and winking lights and tiny circuitry that made her look like an electronic spider. Wires ran from all parts of it, through her hair, a networked web of gold cable and rubber coating and white plastic pads that suckerfished onto her scalp and beamed images to the chip in her brain. Beneath all that, a massive bruise dominated her left cheek, and her lower lip was swollen to gigantic proportions. She had scrapes and cuts and a red mark shaped like a right hand on her neck, and if she moved her shirt collar, the marks continued down her shoulders. She stared at herself for a long time. Then she found the power switch and shut the visor off. On, off, on, off, on. The image never changed. Vision came with a faint electric sound she had never noticed before. Off. On. She sighed, and took her hand away. She thought about what Tony said – they’re scared of you. Well, good, she thought. They ought to be.

She came outside and found Maggie waiting. “Everything alright?” she asked. Taina held out her phonelink. “Oh,” Maggie said, taking it. “I didn’t realize….” She checked the recent calls and saw Tony’s number. She thought about it, then smiled. “He saved your life, you know,” she said. Taina nodded. That was more or less true. “Anyway….. I have the shades drawn so you can’t tell, but it’s actually very late. Or very early. Either way….. Are you hungry?” Maggie’s train of thought wasn’t making sense. Taina shook her head, then pantomimed a pillow hitting her head. “Right. Right, of course, I….. sorry. I’m tired, too.” Taina waved at her. “Goodnight,” Maggie said back.

---

The story of Taina’s attack appeared on the net the next morning, under the headline “MAD SCIENTIST.” It focused on the heroics of Doctor Anthony Lewitz, who singlehandedly protected his patient from three assailants, and featured a close-up and a link to his bio, which offered some insights into his business venture with Alfred Spence and Margaret Ulis, their research into severe TBIs, and their legal struggles against Reager. Taina was relieved to find that her own name wasn’t mentioned – nor was there much information at all about her condition. There was, however, an overt and pervasive theme to the piece, which linked anything and everything possible to Reager Corp. It read like slam journalism, crossed with superhero mythology. The journalist also mentioned a Federation cruiser had moved into orbit, and threatened – in reader-friendly tongue and cheek – that anybody wishing harm on Doctor Lewitz’s patients would have to go through the Federation first, “or perhaps it’s the other way around.”

Al arrived later than expected. He blamed it partly on the parade of uniforms outside, but also, cheerfully, on the great many phone calls he’d received that morning from prospective investors. People were lining up to help them fight off the big-business bully. “It’s just chasing a headline,” he admitted. “It won’t last. But it’ll keep us fighting for a while, and right now I’ll take it.”

Taina waved to him, and pointed at her speech port.

“Sorry,” he said. “Whatever they used did a real number on your plate. I’m working on it, but at this point it looks like I might as well start from scratch.” She pouted. “But,” he said, reaching into his briefcase, “I got this. It’s a text-to-speech pad. Doesn’t have your vocabulary, and the interface isn’t great but…”

She smiled weakly and took it.

“Sorry I can’t do better. Yet,” he added. “I’m on it. But I thought maybe we’d see what we can do about those eyes first.”

Taina scrolled around the pad, trying to find the phrase she was looking for. It was taking too long, so she just held out a thumbs-up instead.

They piled into a police shuttle, along with half a dozen cops in black uniforms. The pilot dropped the whole entourage off on the roof of Tony’s building, and no sooner had it lifted off than another replaced it, depositing more police to protect the landing pad. A third shuttle dropped down below and landed on the street, and over it all, the tiny oblong outline of a massive Federation cruiser parked in low orbit. Al whistled, which made one of the cops chuckle. Two blackcoats peeled off to cover the roof access to the lift, and four rode down with Maggie, Al, and Taina.

When they reached Tony’s floor, there was a moment of tension. Some men were waiting in the hall. One of their escorts went to check it out, and came back with an extra pair of cops. “Talk about overkill,” Al joked. The blackcoats glared at him – this, they clearly thought, was no time for small measures.

Taina tapped on her new pad until she found a simple phrase. “For me?” it said.

The leader turned around to face her. “Lady,” he said, looking right into her visor without batting an eye, “at this moment you’ve got more firepower watching your back than the president.

They led her down the hall and knocked on Tony’s door in a unique rhythm. There were sounds of several locks being undone – more than Taina remembered being there previously. Besides the four men outside the room, there were two more blackcoats inside with Tony, and on top of that, a familiar face wearing silver.

“Hello again,” said Detective Bunsen. He’d been smoking vapor, but he put it away when the entourage arrived, leaving a sweet aroma and a thick cloud of mist as the only evidence. He shook hands with everyone. “I’ve just been going over things with the Mad Scientist.”

Taina scrolled through her pad and tapped. “Good to see you,” it said. She meant it for Tony, as a sort of joke about her visor, but Bunsen thought it was for him.

“You too,” he said. “Now, I know this is a tense time, but hopefully the Federation’s finest have convinced you that you’re totally safe by now – and with that in mind, I would like to get to doing my job just as quick as we can. The sooner I ask the young lady a few questions, the sooner we can get after the SOBs who attacked her last night. Time is of the essence, and all that. Would you mind?”

Taina tapped Al on the shoulder and made a motion about her vacant speech port. “Uh,” he said, “that might be a bit of a problem,” he said. He started to explain but Bunsen cut him off.

“No problem, no problem at all I assure you. The Mad Scientist has filled me in on everything and I’m ready to adjust.” Al and Maggie were unconvinced. “Now I’m sorry,” the silvercoat went on, powering through their reservations, “I have to keep this by the book, and that means persons of interest only. I’ll need both of you to wait outside while Taina and the Mad Scientist and I have a quick conversation – then I’ll be out of your hair and you can go on about your business.”

“Please stop calling me that,” Tony begged in a whisper.

Al and Maggie hesitated. “As I said, we’re in a rush here, so, gentlemen, if you would please.” The blackcoats started filing out, and Maggie and Al were caught up in the flow. Their leader pulled the door shut behind him.

Taina started scrolling through her pad, looking for a way to start the conversation, but Tony put a hand on it. She looked up. He had a finger over his mouth. Behind him, Detective Bunsen had relaxed his posture and put his cigarette back into his mouth. “Lock the door for me, would you, child?” he said. She did. “Fantastic. Come with me.” He jerked his head and beckoned them towards the back, away from the door, so that their conversation would not be overheard.

---

They sat around Tony’s dinner table. Taina and Tony sat together on one side, and opposite them, Detective Bunsen was chugging away on his cigarette, releasing gigantic vapor clouds that smelled like cherry and mint. “You ever try one of these?” he asked her. She shook her head. “Nah, you wouldn’t like it,” he said. “It’s bad for the vocal cords.” Her eyes narrowed, which nobody could see, but they narrowed anyway. Tony started to rise up out of his seat. “Alright, alright,” said Bunsen, “take it easy there, ssslllugger.”

Taina fiddled with her pad. “What do you want?” it asked very politely.

He scowled. “That thing have a volume button?” he asked. She squinted, then looked around for such a thing. “Nevermind. Here.” He slid his pocket notepad across the table. It was paper, with a pencil stuffed into the margin of the leather flap covering it. “Alright. First things first. Tony here says you’re pretty good at the old tae-kwon-do.” She cocked her head. “You beat up some guys,” he explained. “Big bastards, too, real bruisers looking for trouble. Do you know anything about that?”

She scribbled on the notepad and held it up. “No,” it said. Then she tore off the page.

Bunsen’s eyes flickered. “Hey, I only got a hundred pages there, alright? And a lot of talking to do. So just tap once for yes, and twice for….”

She knocked twice, softly, slowly, theatrically. He got it.

“Right.” He leaned forwards. “Just so we understand clearly – you have no idea how you took down about three-hundred-and-ninety pounds of asshole?” She knocked once. “When it was happening, you were just acting on instinct, right?” One knock. He smiled.

“What does that mean?” Tony asked.

He seemed surprised by the question. “Oh. Nothing, probably. Just fuckin’ impressive is all.” Both of his interviewees shot him silent looks of supreme annoyance. “Alright. I wanna do a little quid-pro-quo with you.” He looked at Taina. “You know what quid-pro….” She knocked once, angrily. “Right. I’ll start.” He pulled out his electronic datapad and brought up an image. “These three here? These are your douchebags in question. Note the damages here, here, and here.” Three mugshots, riddled with massive facial trauma, filled the screen. “Now see this one here, on the right, he got a taste of the Mad Scientist’s boot, all over his teeth. That’s probably why he isn’t smiling. But these other two?” he tapped, and the images scaled up to fill the screen. “These two, Tony’s never seen before. That is, he saw the parts of them that were still in your apartment – couple teeth, some bone fragments, about three quarts of blood….”

“Get on with it,” Tony said, exasperated.

Bunsen rapped his knuckles on the table. “Taina, you didn’t just fight off a couple guys. You destroyed a pair of career-criminals on the attack. And you did it blind folded.” She knocked twice. “Blind. Sorry.” One knock. He took a puff and exhaled a fresh cloud. “Taina, that’s remarkable to me. Is that remarkable to you?” She didn’t knock. It was probably hard for him to register a cold stare through the visor, but she fixed him with one anyway. He suddenly changed his entire demeanor, moving from aggravating disinterest to intense curiosity. “Have you ever been frozen in stasis?”

“Why the hell would you ask her that?” Tony demanded. “What does that have to do with last night’s attack?”

“Nothing. No, we got them already – hell where did you think we got the mugshots?” That should have been obvious enough. “They’re nobodies, no known connections, N.O.A.s, we won’t get shit out of them but they’re out of the game. And they’re not Reager, either, in case you’re wondering that. It’s got nothing to do with your legal problems, that’s just how they found you, I think. This is about your other case, Taina. This is about a lead I think you just left me, all over…..” he inspected the mugshots. “…..Nigel Trevoran’s jaw. Trevoran? What kind of bullshit name….”

Taina knocked once, hard. Then she scribbled on the notepad and passed it to Tony. “Tell him,” it said.

He looked at her to ask if she was sure, and she knocked. “Yeah. She’s had memories involving a stasis pod. Early models were dangerous, most of ‘em are out of circulation, so maybe they got one second-hand or salvage off some lost freighter, something like that. Best guess, that’s where Taina’s injuries started.”

“Memories,” Detective Bunsen said. He flashed a smile. Neither of them picked up on his meaning. “You know, the boys in black filed their incident report at eight last night. Took the lady quite a while to get here this morning, and Tony, you must’ve made a few trips back and forth – to drop off that fancy hat, hit the storage unit, grab all these supplies…” He seemed to be looking right through Taina’s visor plate, right into her eyes. “You didn’t set all this up overnight. You’ve had all this equipment for a while. You’ve been prying away at those lost memories.”

Taina didn’t flinch. She knocked once. Bunsen nodded. “Good.”

“Spence and Ulis can’t find out,” said Tony.

Bunsen grinned. “Why do you think I asked you to lock the door?” He folded his hands. “Alright. I can see that you’re confused – thank you, Taina, for knocking, that’s excellent use of communication skills. I’m going to paint you a picture. I want you to stop me if it stops making sense. Fair enough?” Tyler nodded.

“Say you’re a run-of-the-mill gang leader. You’ve got your merry little band of raiders and space pirates, and you go on about your life, stealing and killing and….” He looked at Taina. “…Other things. Now I told Lewitz before, you can’t do that sort of thing for long before the wrong people get pissed off and stomp you into a mushy red paste. Sometimes it’s us Feds, but usually it’s some other gang. Someone bigger than you looking to prove a point, someone smaller than you trying to make a mark – one way or another, every time you win a cash prize, someone else is coming up to claim your ticket. Nature of the business.

“One day, along comes a scumbag who’s just a little bit smarter than the others. He says to himself, Self, here we are taking all this money, and we can’t even spend it. Everyone wants what we’ve got. But, Self, I have an idea. What if we took all that money, and disappeared for a while – just poof, gone. Nobody knows where it went. We don’t spend it – we just hang onto it, for years and years and years, decades. Then poof – we come back, and all the other scumbags are at each others’ throats over a new score. All the cops are off chasing the new scumbags. They’ve forgotten aaaaaall about us. And Self says, fuckin’ A right, chum, that’s toppers! And he says, Self, old buddy old pal….”

“Detective.”

He was genuinely annoyed at the interruption. But he went on. “Now it’s a foolproof plan – the underworld moves quick like that, he knows as much, he’s a part of it. But the problem is, if he’s got to wait decades to spend his ill-gotten gains, what is a scum lord to do in the meantime? That’s where the genius strikes. Its name is F.T.L. Scum lord climbs into a ship with a bunch of bags full of money, sets the computer, and jumps off on a trip to nowhere. Once he gets there, he turns around and comes back. Now, to him, it seems like just a couple of minutes – but for the people he ripped off, it’s been twenty, thirty, forty years. Maybe more. They’ve forgotten aaaaaaall about him.”

Tony worked his jaw around with his hand. “You’re talking about time-traveling pirates.”

“Not exactly,” he said. “You know about pure FTL, but maybe you don’t know about this. When the early-gen FTL drives first came off the assembly line, time dilation wasn’t fully understood and therefore it wasn’t fully controlled. Some of them didn’t work quite right, unless the malfunctions were exactly what you wanted. Then, they were the perfect equipment.” He tapped on his digital pad, and showed them a very old theft log of three smallships. “You’re looking at the unsolved mystery of what happened to the perfect equipment – a cold case from two hundred and fifty years ago.”

Taina scribbled and turned her notepad around. It read, “What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he said. He tapped the screen again, and pulled up an image of a woman in a silver coat. “This is Federation Marshal Celine Rupp. She shared my theory about the time-jumping scumlords, only she had it about a hundred and fifty years ago. Federation thought she was nuts, but she pursued her theory through a few leads, raised some hell, and then disappeared without a trace. Her body popped up in some backworld shootout-factory about fifty years later – hadn’t aged a day. Gave the coroner a conniption. But here’s the wrinkle.” He leaned forwards. “You sure you want to hear it?” She knocked.

“Celine Rupp had a daughter. Things didn’t work out with pappy, so it was just her and the kid. Then one day, right before she disappeared, the daughter goes missing. Manhunt can’t track her down, Missing Person’s keeps a tab open for thirty years like they’re supposed to, find nothing. Meanwhile mommy up and vanished into thin air, so it gets written up that Celine took her and fled the galaxy. Nobody knows why, but it makes sense – until Celine’s body turns up in a drug den, no daughter in sight.” He pulled the pad away. “Do you know what her daughter’s name was?”

Taina couldn’t move. Tony was speechless.

He replaced the pad. It displayed the century-and-a-half-old missing person’s report, complete with a photograph and a name. “Taina Rupp.”

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Bunsen said. “By the time our scum kidnapped you, they’d learned a few things about their scheme. After all it’d been about a hundred years, give or take. They’d send off part of the gang to gallivant about space and time, and they’d leave someone behind – using stasis pods – to wake up and handle any problems that sprout up when the others are away. Make sure it’s safe to bring in the new score, that sort of thing.”

“Investments,” said Tony. Bunsen hadn’t thought of that, so he elaborated. “They don’t just bury the old money, they invest it all over. One guy sticks around to manage the money, and while they’re all in hibernation or…. Off in space, whatever, the money keeps growing.”

Bunsen nodded. “Smart. Maybe. Well this person, he sees that Marshal Rupp is catching on. Knows that when the away team gets back, they’re going to be in trouble. So he kidnaps the daughter,” he said indelicately. “Somehow…. I don’t know why, but they must have needed her. They used you as collateral – got her to jump out into deep space, hit something, and came back. But when they take you out of stasis, it’s all gone wrong. They kill your mother, pop you back in the stasis pod. Dot dot dot, here we are today.”

---

“How did you put all this together, anyway?” Tony asked. Taina was wondering the same – though she was also distracted by the girl in the Missing Persons report.

“Well,” said Bunsen, making a fresh cloud, “it started with the legal thing, between you and Reager. Kicked off right around the same time I came and talked to Taina, right?” He smoked again. “Reager was founded around the same time Marshal Rupp reappeared, full of holes. I was familiar with the case, so that stuck out and I did a little digging.”

“You were familiar with the case,” Tony repeated. “What, was she your partner or something?”

Detective Bunsen’s expression went flat. “I ain’t that old, kid.” He looked away. “Long unhappy family history, don’t really wanna drag it all up. But the short version is, my daddy knew all about it, so when I joined up he told me the whole story. Stuck with me I guess.” He smoked again. “Anyway, I looked into Reager and found out the timelines matched up, so I looked back through the old case files. Saw two Tainas and figured that was more than just a coincidence.”

Taina scribbled out, “Last night meaning?”

He digested that. “Well my hunch was, they must’ve either taken you along with your mother, or else put you on ice. Latter made more sense because – sorry if this is weird – I got a real good look at your cranium, and you ain’t been shot. Figured an accident was more likely, probably popped you in a freezer and it went sour. Sounds like that’s about right, from what you can remember.” She nodded. “Anyway that’s beside the point. Last night, you showed some goddamn brilliant combat prowess. I was already thinking along the Reager lines, so I looked back. Guess how they got their startup money?”

“Military contracting,” said Tony.

“Exactly. See there’s training – and then there’s conditioning. Them Federation boys would go get themselves blown up fighting the Saurians, come back, docs could stitch together most of ‘em, fit ‘em with new limbs, new spinal columns, but the brain was a whole other thing. With all the ships going down, brain injury was a real problem. Well, along comes Reager with a new line of biotech, says he can pick up some of the real bad TBIs and get them back in the fight. Five years before the peace accords, that seemed like a real good idea, so they let him test it out.”

Tony could see that Taina was only barely keeping up. He moved it along. “Alright, so how does that…”

“Reager drones,” he said, “are real good at muscle-memory. They learn how to do something, it’s in there forever. Some of ‘em saw combat, one even got a medal. Point is – they learn shit. Combat shit. Shit like Taina showed off last night – now here’s where I get fuzzy, because I don’t know shit about brain surgery. She doesn’t have a Reager drive in her head, does she?”

“No,” said Tony. “Hell she doesn’t even have…..” he trailed off.

“Help us out here doc,” said Bunsen.

His eyes darted between them. “In one of Taina’s memories, she’s being operated on. It could be, they were putting in a Reager drive, but…” They weren’t following him, so he spelled it out. “Maybe they were taking one out. Follow me here. These guys, they take her – but they’re only ever planning on using her as leverage, to get the Marshal to play along. Things go bad, they lose the Marshal, and they’re left with Taina in a damaged state. But instead of trying to help her, they sell her off to Reager.”

“Reager tests the drive, off the books. When they get the data they need they rip it back out and toss her back.”

Taina knocked twice. She wrote, “Reager didn’t take it out.”

They pondered. “Reager installs the drive, and galaxy’s first FTL shitlords get themselves a drone slave.” She knocked once, and shrugged, because she didn’t know, but that sounded plausible. “Could be they used her for their enterprise.”

Detective Bunsen had an idea. “Do me a favor, sweet thing, and don’t shoot anybody with this.” He took the pistol off his belt, stripped it, and lay it on the table. “See what you can do.” Looking at it, she hadn’t the first idea – but an idea struck her. She switched off the visor, and the world went dark. She felt for each piece, and fit them together quickly. She knew it worked because she racked the slide and it loaded a round. Then she turned her visor back on – a little surprised at herself, and a little scared.

“Jesus,” said Tony.

Bunsen looked at him. “Now is that the sort of thing that might be left over, if someone conditioned her with a Reager drive and then tore the damned thing out?” He nodded. “Alright. We’re getting somewhere.”

Taina handed him the gun and wrote some more. “What now?”

Bunsen thought about that. “For you? First things first. Get those eyes fixed – that headgear is fucking weird.” She knocked once, loudly. “Take care of that voicebox too. Then lie low, and see if you can’t remember any more. We’re putting it together – but we’re not any closer to finding these assholes, and even if we did, we don’t have anything much in the way of evidence. Need places we can check out, things we can dig up, files, documents, names.”

Taina knocked furiously with both hands. “What?” Bunsen asked. In the expositional overflow her author had almost forgotten about it, but it came flooding back all at once. She wrote, and tore off a page.

“Had a dream last night,” Tony read aloud. Then she held up the next page. “Name: Besk.” Tony gaped. “When were you going….” He trailed off, but finished the thought, “…to tell me, that’s a stupid question isn’t it….”

“Was he the lizard?” One knock. “Alright. Good fucking job, Taina. I’m gonna run this down. You two – stay safe, and try not to do anything stupid. I’ll be in touch.”

---

Taina liked Detective Bunsen, but processing what he’d shared took some time. She sorted out her feelings over several days, during which the three scientiests worked hard at troubleshooting her eyes and speech plate. On the one hand, most of what Bunsen told her was thematically irrelevant to the rest of her experience, and probably should have come up much later in her adventure, piecemeal, in an organic way that introduced the concepts of lightspeed as a criminal enterprise more credibly and built up her antagonists into the more nuanced characters they were always meant to be. And of course, having the whole theory based on a wild speculation after a strange fistfight and coincidental knowledge was extremely hand-wavey, which she hated – she wished that Bunsen had taken Besk’s name and description, done a little actual investigating, maybe incorporating some conflict with his upstart partner Anyang, and come to his conclusions a little more naturally. His little interview should have just been a folksy, irreverent display of how he actually does care about Taina’s cold case, and how he was going to be an unlikely ally in the future. But, on the other hand, the way things were revealed all at once meant she and Tony had a better idea of what was coming, and they could get to the bloody point – which was certainly a relief.

At last, Al announced that they’d found the dead line in Taina’s eyes, and they could fix it up in a day’s time, maybe just a little longer. They didn’t even have to put her under to operate – they stabilized her head, pulled the mechanical eyes out one by one, and replaced tiny chips in the hardware and fresh wires. Taina could feel the cables rubbing around in her eye sockets. It was weird – but it didn’t hurt. When they were finished, Al did some delicate work on the output panel on the right side of her skull, and got the optical drivers in her chip to reset.

“How’s that?” he asked, as the world flickered to life. She could see the three of them – only, she had a bit of double-vision.

“Left off center,” she wrote. Al crouched in front of her and examined the problem.

“Ah, yeah, I see it. Hang on.” He loosened something in her eye with a screwdriver, then pushed it outwards just a tiny bit using his thumb. “Better?” She gave him a thumbs-up, so he tightened the screw down to lock it back in place.

Taina stood up and walked around a little, to the delight of everyone present. Then she scribbled a note, and stuck the paper to her old visor. It read, “May we burn it?” They laughed and said probably not, just in case.

It took another week to get the speech plate working. Over that time, Taina was constantly supervised by at least two of her scientist friends, and a never-ending escort of blackcoats. She baked them muffins – poorly, since Tony hadn’t taught her that yet, but she gave it a few tries until they were acceptable – and passed them around to each of the police with hand-written ‘thank you’ notes. The pilot of the shuttle tasked to her ate three, and asked if there were any more every time she went for a ride. Later on, they all stopped by with hand-written notes saying ‘thank you,’ ‘you rock,’ and other kindnesses. One note read “Will you marry me?” and the author dropped to one knee and pantomimed opening a ring. She slapped him playfully and he feigned rejection and heartache, but the other blackcoats treated him like a hero.

At last, the speech plate was ready and Al slid it into place without much ceremony. “I played with the settings just a little…. If you don’t like it, we can set it back how it was,” he said.

“What do you mean?” She asked aloud. There was something different – an accent in the voice. It sounded like a grown-up version of the girl from her dreams. Maggie had tears in her eyes. Taina looked soulfully at Al. “Thank you,” she said.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I think…. It feels right. It’s how I’m supposed to sound. If I hadn’t, you know…..” They all felt what she was going to say. If she hadn’t been abducted and tortured and nearly killed and a hundred other misfortunes too monstrous to bear repeating. But she wanted this to be a happy occasion, so she said, “Let’s celebrate. Does everybody like ramen?”

Curtis Thompson greeted them at the Ramen-Ya! with a massive grin. He had a thousand questions for Taina – was she alright, was she REALLY alright, how was she doing, how was she doing really, and more like that. He had just as many words of heartfelt thanks for Tony Lewitz, the Mad Scientist, for ‘keeping his little girl safe.’

“Curt,” she said, getting the old man’s attention. “Curt, it’s great to see you. But, ah, we’re very hungry….”

He beamed. “Of course! Of course, this way. Hey did you change your voice again? I like it!”

She smiled. “Changed it back to normal.”

Curtis prepared a feast so big he couldn’t carry it all out to the table himself, so everybody pitched in. Then he hung up a sign in the door that read “Sorry, we’re SHIMASHITA!” with a goofy cartoon samurai underneath it, saying ‘psst – that means closed!’ and joined them at the table. Tony had to tell his story about the attack half a dozen times. Al told everyone about the small victories in their battle with Reager, and Maggie and Taina took turns sharing stories about the blackcoats. After a few such tales, Curtis suddenly went wide-eyed with a realization, and he ran outside, shouting ‘So sorry, come in! Free food!’ to the detail guarding the entrance. He thanked each of them with a handshake and a mortified apology for not thinking of them earlier. They took a table near the entrance and Curtis carried over heaping bowls of noodle and egg and chicken and everything else.

Over the next month, the escort gradually decreased in size. The blackcoats fanned out and canvased the area, and the building details at each apartment dwindled until there was only a single guard at each place. Finally the chief showed up, gathered the four of them together, and explained that the perpetrators had confessed and were locked up safe and sound off-world, and that they’d been checking for any more threats but everything looked clear. He said they’d keep their eyes and ears open, and the Federation cruiser would keep watching from overhead, and if there was any more trouble – which there wouldn’t be, but just in case – they could have fifty blackcoats on the ground in less than a minute. And with all that in mind, he wondered if it would be okay if they pulled some of his resources back so they could go back to their regular lives. Al said that would be fine, but the chief said he really wanted to ask Taina, and she said it was fine too.

On the night she moved back into her apartment, she waited for Maggie and Al to say their goodbyes, then headed up to Tony’s room. The door was locked, but he was inside and he opened it.

“Let’s go,” Taina said. He hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

“Bunsen’s on the case. We gave him a lot, and he magically knew a lot more because the author’s tired. I don’t think we have to keep doing this.”

“We do,” Taina said. “It’ll make the editing process easier. Besides,” she went on, “I only got one name. There’s still two more.” She could see that he wasn’t convinced. “Nothing’s changed,” she said. “Even if we got Besk, he’s not the one who raped me.”

That put a glimmer of the Mad Scientist back in Tony’s eyes. “I’m not about to let him off the hook for that,” he said. “But I see your point. Come on.”

They were back into their rhythm. Taina began keeping a written journal of her dreams, describing what she saw so it could be paired with what they heard on the audio recording. They learned more about her surroundings, about her captors – no names, besides Besk, but vivid descriptions of their appearance and character. They learned of at least two more occasions during which Taina was frozen in stasis. All of this would have been a better way to work through that massive exposition-splosion, but that ship has sailed, so just pretend we covered that here differently and it made more sense or something, Idunno.

Detective Bunsen sent them an encrypted message one day. “Besk?” was all it said. He had attached several pictures of reptilian aliens. Taina recognized one of them and sent back a reply, “Third image.” His response, “Alias Tapakang. No record of associates, existed for two years, vanished.”

They kept at work. Tony slept during the day, and watched over Taina as she dreamed at night. Several times she experienced trauma in her sleep, and he would wake her up and treat her and as soon as her heartrate came down she would plug back in and take another Zolpidem. They pursued the case with single-minded focus.

Bunsen sent another image of Besk. “Alias Panaran. No record of associates, existed for two years, vanished. MO.” They didn’t hear from him for two weeks after that, then received another image. “Real name Anyang. Associate fed up with his bullshit, existed as a pain in my ass for five years, refuses to vanish. FML.”

The work continued. When she wasn’t dreaming, Taina took up physical exercise. She became lean, fit, hard. Tony programmed her chip with a variety of disciplines – how to fly a ship, principles of investigation, witness interrogation. Some of it didn’t take, some of it she couldn’t practice, but she wanted more. She learned about tech hardware – her own chip and others. She learned how to build them, how to hack them better, how to program software, how to beat software. She talked her way around Tony’s reservations, and built herself into a weapon.

Then it all came crashing down again.

---

She woke peacefully. Her eyes already open, her mind already working. She sat up. She couldn’t remember dreaming, and Tony was gone. “Tony?” she called.

“Taina.” It was Maggie’s voice. She sounded hurt.

“How long have you been there?” she asked.

“How long have you been doing this?” Taina didn’t answer. “I thought we were past this,” Maggie said. She’d been crying. “You’ve been lying to me. How long? Since the attack – or before?” Silence. “It must have been earlier. That’s why Tony said he’d set up the lab in here. You already had a lab in here. You called him – were you trying to cover your tracks?”

“Maggie.” Even with the new accent, her voice sounded flat and monotone.

“No, don’t,” she bellowed. “I don’t want to hear it. God what is it going to take?” She threw spent epinephrine needles onto the floor – must have found them in the trash. Taina was mad at Tony for not taking it out more often, but then, there were only three needles, so… “Three of them. That’s three times that you almost died in your sleep, not counting twice in the lab.” If she only knew how many times it had happened. “Not counting all the illegal drugs you’ve been using to induce sleep. Not counting the three meatheads who busted down your door and tried to murder you.”

“I’m not afraid of them. I’m not afraid of any of that.”

Maggie just shook her head. “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it? You never cared what happened to you.” She wiped her eyes. “Well I did.”

The door opened and Al came in. He took in the scene, gave Maggie a hug, and stepped forwards. “We’re disappointed in you,” he said. It sounded like he was talking to a child. Taina hated that. “Damn it Taina, I trusted you.”

“Then what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Sharing the good news,” he said in a sad and wistful voice. “Last night Reager Corp dropped their suit. We can go back to the lab, get set up. Start treating patients again. I wanted you to come with us and help.”

“Where’s Tony?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Tony’s not coming back.”

“You fired him?” Silence. Taina stood up and started for the door. Al got in her way. “Let me go.”

“You’re out of control, Taina,” he said. “You hurt those men. You hurt us. You’re hurting yourself.”

Had Lewitz told them? She was furious. “I don’t want your control,” she said. She tried to spit with the words but her limp tongue wouldn’t cooperate. “You sound like Reager.”

He glowered. “Taina I didn’t want this, but you’re not giving me any choice.” He struggled to get the words out. “We’re done,” he said.

She stopped. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not my patient anymore. I can’t help you, because you won’t listen to me when I tell you what’s best. So I’m not going to enable this self-destruction any further. We’re done.” She was frozen. “Your apartment is paid up for two months. After that…. You’re on your own.”

She was frozen in place. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You don’t care what I think,” he said. Then, seeing how this affected her, he softened his tone. “You need to let me shut down the memory channels in your chip. If you don’t, if you dream again, it could kill you – and we won’t be there to help.”

Her heart was pounding. She looked at him with hate in her eyes. “I’d rather die,” she said. She marched towards the door, bulling Spence out of her way. He called after her, and Maggie jumped in front of the door, tearful, pleading.

“Please, Taina, please, let it stop. Let it end.”

“Get out of my way.”

“No.”

“Move.”

“No!” Taina grabbed her by the wrist. She fought. Then on instinct, Taina moved her arm and Maggie screamed in pain. She could feel a snap. She wanted to let go, to apologize, but before she knew what was happening Maggie was on the floor, clutching her wrist, writhing in pain. Spence knelt beside her, and they looked up at Taina with fear and anger and love and betrayal and pain in their eyes.

“Get out,” said Spence. Taina left.

She took the lift to the roof, hoping to find Tony there, but it was empty. She got back inside and took it down to street level, scanning the faces walking about late at night. He was gone. She paced up and down looking for him, looking for anyone. The Ramen-Ya! was Shimashita. The lights were out. The blackcoats were nowhere in sight.

She was alone.

---

“You didn’t tell her,” said Maggie.

“She’ll figure it out soon enough,” said Al. He closed a window on Tony’s computer. “Probably never talk to us again. But she’ll be safe.”

It felt horrible. “Did we do the right thing?” she asked.

Al sighed. “Tony was right all along,” he said. “We should’ve blocked those channels as soon as we found them. I’m a slow learner but I learned my lesson.”

“But everything that happened to her….”

“…is in the past,” said Al. “We can’t change that. We shouldn’t have tried to change that. Those men, the ones that started all this…. They’re long gone. We should’ve let it stay that way. At least now, they won’t come back and haunt her every night.”

She blinked. “No,” she said. “Now she’ll only remember them while she’s awake.”

It was a terrible thought. Al sat beside her. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to get that arm looked at.”

---

She sat on the steps for hours, trying to think. After a while an ambulance shuttle landed on the roof and, she assumed, carried Spence and Ulis away. She took out her phonelink to call them, to say something, but her vocabulary matrix didn’t have any words for what she felt. She called Tony. He didn’t pick up. She dialed the number the blackcoat chief had given her. Call anytime, he said, for anything, we’ll have fifty blackcoats on the ground in less than a minute. A receptionist picked up instead. She asked who was calling and what was the nature of the emergency. Taina hung up.

The sun was rising, people were beginning to file into the streets. Strange people, normal people, alien people, none of them so broken that they needed mechanical eyes and a speech plate and a shot of adrenaline by the side of the bed. She was alone.

She called Tony again. Still no answer. Called everyone. Nobody picked up. She was ready to smash the phonelink to pieces – but she had one more number. She called it, and he picked up.

“What you got for me, sweet thing?” Bunsen asked. She exhaled loudly, broken, uneven. “They fix that speaker in your head yet?” he asked. She turned the phone upside down, so that the microphone was near her speech plate, and said yes. “Hmm. Like the accent. “

“I need help,” she said.

She could hear him smoking. “Surely do,” he said. “Why don’t I swing by, meet you on the roof?”

He landed there an hour later in his smallship. She was waiting for him to come out and talk, but instead, he motioned for her to get inside. She didn’t know why she did it, but she went with him. She sat in an empty seat in the cockpit. He took them up, over the city, over the horizon, and into orbit.

“You ever seen anything like this before?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

He nodded, looking sagely wise. “They let you go, didn’t they?” he asked. She nodded. “It’s alright. You’re tougher than you look, you know. Sucks. But you’ll come out the other side.” He pulled out his datapad. “Brought you a present,” he said.

She looked at it. Human, with white hair like Bunsen’s. “I know that face,” she said.

“You’re looking at scumlord-supreme.” The name on the photograph was Horatio Hornblower. She gripped the pad so hard it creaked, and Bunsen had to pry it back to keep it from breaking. “Name’s fake, obviously. Found him in pictures with your guy Besk, few dozen years apart, then started working him solo. Fits the profile. He the one?”

Her hands were fists. “He’s the one,” she said. She didn’t have to say any more than that.

“Real name is sorta hard to figure,” he said, “but the one on the earliest bank statements I can find is Leonidas. Signed his checks Leon. Ring any bells?” She shook her head. “From what I can guess, he’s the puppet master. He pulled your strings, he ran your show. He took down your mommy, probably pulled the trigger himself if I had to guess. He scratched up your brain and hid everything. In short, he’s the one behind everything fucked up in your life.”

“Where is he.”

He sighed. “Til last week, he was in a Federation pen. Got busted after a shootout during a game of cards, tried to turn States evidence, backed out and they threw the book. He went away for life.”

“He got out?”

“No.” Bunsen sighed. “The good news is he’s dead. The bad news is, he died in lockup, over a card game, and the son of a bitch never had to answer for what he did to you.” She put her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“It was all for nothing,” she muttered. She wanted to mutter – the speech plate said it plainly and without emotion.

“I meant what I said,” Bunsen told her. “You’re tougher than you look, and you look plenty tough.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked. “Nobody will tell me.”

He thought about that. “Way I see it,” he said at last, “you can always go back to Spence. I don’t know how you left things, but that doc, and his friends – they care about you. You can have a life down there, maybe even be happy after a while, if you can manage to forget a few things. You can help some people.” Then he leaned over the console. “Or, you can come with me, and hurt some people instead.” She looked up. “Two suspects left, one unidentified. You come with me, we’ll track them down and put ‘em in the ground, if they ain’t there already.”

She looked at the planet below. “I hurt my friends,” she said.

“Yeah,” Bunsen agreed. “It’s not your fault.”

“Why do you want me to come with you?” she asked.

He thought about it. “You remember those ships I told you about, in that exposition? Malfunctioning FTL. Broken, dangerous – but for the right job, it was the perfect equipment.”

“And that’s me,” said Taina. “The perfect equipment.”

“That sounded better in my head,” said Bunsen. “I got a different way of thinking, too. Most people, they’re like your friends. Let the past be the past, move on, live, etcetera. Me,” he said, staring out into space. “I see something I can’t forgive and I can’t just forget about it. I think we have that in common.”

She nodded.

“I wanna get these guys, and I don’t mean arrest them. I want them to feel it. I want them to know it was because of what they did to you. And I want to watch them die. To me that’s the right thing to do. To me, that’s the only thing to do.”

“Me too.”

“You need to be sure,” he warned.

She turned her back on the planet, on Maggie Ulis, on Tony Lewitz, on Al Spence. “I’m sure.” Detective Bunsen pressed a few buttons, and the smallship vanished into space.

The character limit for this post is already nearly broken, so the remaining stories will be posted below.

The Twelve Labours: General Discussion

@Holmishire, less than twelve hours left (ten hours and fifty minutes remain to be exact) and still nothing from you.

Is this how you are to lose your crown?

Game of Thrones Inspired NRP (Accepting one more!)

Interested.

TTL: The Ninth Labour

The Twelve Labours

The Ninth Labour follows in the shadow of the colossus that was the Eigth - but dare not spite it, lest you be forced to tarry in the pursuit of a dishonorable grave. For those of you who are just dropping in and have no idea what this is, take a peek at The Twelve Labours Introduction Thread (it's a quick read, I promise).

Let the Ninth Labour commence. Submission ends at Objective Midnight, June 1st.

Entry Rules:

1. Jaffar's (left) thumb.
2. Follow the standard guild rules.
3. Obey the Dark Lord Sauron's rules as well (just to cover all the bases).
4. Follow MY rules too. Let it never be said we did not warn you.
5. Send your entry to @Terminal by June 1st.
6. Be sure to include whether or not you want your story to remain anonymous! I will add your name only if I am given your permission!
7. Any explicit/mature material must be kept off-site. I will only post links to them with NSFW notices.
8. I reserve the right to simply toss out any story if it doesn't possess a basic modicum of good sense and taste. Don't make me.
9. All stories must adhere to a certain standard of quality expected of good storytelling.
10. You must use your own characters. Preexisting characters from franchise settings may only be alluded to.
11. If your setting is borrowed from a franchise, make sure to include a disclaimer and credit the original inventor of the setting used.

Prizes:

All winning entries will receive a forum trophy as well as a unique, custom forum title which they can activate and deactivate at their leisure. Additionally, winning entries of particularly exceptional quality will be awarded Challenge Accolades.

All winning entries will also be saved to a public archive, a link to which will be permanently available in my signature! I personally post in the News and Discussion subforums of the guild to congratulate and announce the winners as well. As a reminder, unless you specifically give me permission to include authorship of an entry, every posted story will remain anonymous (awarded trophies can also be hidden in your user profile, so you will not show up if people are examining the trophy groups).

The Ninth Labour

Spite and Hatred as weapons are like poisons - you drink them and await the death of your enemy.

Siddhartha Gautama

The Ninth Labour

The Ninth Labour

You are permitted the use of any character for this Labour. The coursing of spite as it follows after another passes not through space but through the bodies and lives of others. Touching them as the wake of an arrow, the serpent of their misfortune is rooted not upon the assailant, but within the victim. As the object of hatred touches others, their tail shall thrash to tip the scales into disarray.

The Challenge

For this Labour, write about a Tragedy enacted against an innocent body in turn for their good will; to be carried out unwittingly by your character as the tool of another party. Vengeance on the part of your character must prove unfeasible; reward them with ignorance or else with anguish should they attempt it.

Clarification of the Challenge Parameters

This section exists specifically to ensure there is no ambiguity or ambivalence in what, precisely, the challenge requires of each participant. If you have any specific questions which are not addressed here, please send them to @Terminal for resolution.

For The Ninth Labour, I have asked you to use your character as another's unwitting tool of spite.

Q. I can use any character?
A. Any character you please. Young or old, weak or powerful, good or ill. Everyone has enemies.

Q. The tragedy has to be targeted at an innocent body in turn for their good will?
A. An entity who has assisted or otherwise aided your character must earn ire in turn.

Q. It has to be carried out unwittingly by my character?
A. All Tragedies evoke elements of injustice...and deceit. Your character must be the one to fall upon their erstwhile ally.

Q. My character must be the unwitting tool of another party?
A. Whoever manipulates your character into their blunder does not even need to feature in the story - so long as it is evident that the Tragedy is ultimately their handiwork. Necessarily, they will need to employ some means of deceiving and manipulating your character.

Q. What was that about vengeance being unfeasible?
A. Your character should not be readily able to avenge or otherwise rectify the Tragedy - where is the point if the tale should merely be one of an eye for an eye? The Character needs must either suffer for their own actions, or else be utterly unaware of the conspiracy.

Q. How long can my story be?
A. As long as you feel is necessary. I will read any and everything submitted, irregardless of length, and write a review on it. Do not let the short three-day judging period dissuade you. If you have a 800,000 word brick for me, I will take it. Similarly, extremely short stories are also welcome. It is entirely possible for segues as short as three paragraphs long to clear the challenge.

Credits

Thanks again to @mdk, and the entire RPGC crew for helping with scheduling for The Twelve Labours!

Great thanks to @mahz and the other members of the guild staff for helping to renovate the guild and enabling the features that allow us to reward contestants and to advertise our presence.

The Twelve Labours: General Discussion

Announcing now that due to reasons - including the Guild's current instability - that the start date for TTL#9 is now Objective Midnight of the 19th. That means you all will have the entire weekend to get a head-start on your entries.