Everyone else has been posting teasers for upcoming fics.. so I
decided to join in. This is a little something that I've been working on
with the help of Skyknight, Barry Cadwegan, Jeanne Hedge, Twister, and a
great many others, all of whom I owe a great deal.

	The tentative working title for this one comes from the work "The
Art of War" by Sun Tzu. 

	So.. here's a little bit of "In Dangerous Ground".

	Hope you like it.

	Ed.

	"Dreamers may die, but the dream is eternal..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


   Ed looked up as Anri came rushing through the door. "What's the matter,
Anri? You look like Happosai's chasing you."
   
   She gave him a brief, confused glance then pointed to the small radio on
the counter next to the cash register. "Haven't you been listening to the
news?"

   "Never touch the stuff if I can possibly avoid it. Why, is something
wrong?" {Minerva? Check the news, and give me the gist of it. From the look
on Anri's face, something's gone FUBAR big time.}

   Anri reached over and hit the power button on the radio. "... and
ADPolice are still attempting to contain the terrorist who has stolen the
Burton Industry's LCX-1 battlemover. Built to be the first of a new
generation of power armor, it was being shipped to a GENOM research
facility for testing. The as yet unidentified terrorists struck when the
suit was being transfered at the airport. ADPolice were unable to prevent
the theft due to the current crisis..."

   Ed looked back at Anri, surprised. "What crisis?" he asked. "I've been
in the shop all day. I haven't heard a thing."

   "There are fires breaking out all over the city. The Mega-Tokyo fire
department is stretched to it's limits, and the streets are a snarled mess
thanks to that. And there are rogue boomers popping out of their skins all
over the city in record numbers. Haven't you noticed?! Can't you even hear
the sirens?"

   He looked horribly embarrassed and quickly swept a small PDA into a
drawer. "I, uh, I wasn't really paying any attention to them. I--"

   A voice from the rear of the store interupted them. "He was reviewing
some of his old battleROMs, and beating himself up for not having made
better tactical decisions during the war." Minerva sounded slightly
irritated. "There's nothing quite like a nice little guilt trip to keep him
pre-occupied."

   He harumphed, and took a deep breath. "We can argue about that later,
baby. Right now there's work what needs doing." He turned back to Anri and
chewed his mustache thoughtfully. "Boomers running loose means both the
ADPolice and Twister have their hands full, am I right?" When Anri nodded,
he continued. "And Sylia took the Sabers down to Nagoya to escort that
shipment of experimental optical microchips back to Mega-Tokyo that they
were contracted to protect." His eyes narrowed. "Linna said something about
their receiving twice the normal fee for that contract. The cops are busy,
the Crystal Knight is occupied, and the Sabers are conveniently out of town
and won't be back for several hours. Is it just me, or does anyone else
smell something deeply rotten in this?"

   Minerva came out of the back room and stepped over to the counter. "It
has to be a setup, lover." Her eyes went unfocused. "The odds of so many
cases of arson occuring at the same time as a record number of boomer
rampages are..."

   "No need to quote me the numbers, Min.. we can listen to them anytime.
Right now, there's work to be done." He turned to Anri. "Tell Sylvie we're
on it. And I won't wreck the town this time."

   Anri pursed her lips worriedly. "Will you be all right?"

   "Hey... no problems, dear lady." He gave her a crooked grin. "Dealing
with emotional problems are one thing. Battling a rampaging battle suit?
That's actually rather relaxing."

                                   * * *

   "Minerva, get me a scan of that thing. I wanna see if there is any way I
can take it out without trashing half the city in the process. Neither Sylia
nor the cops were very happy with me after the debacle at Gemon Plaza."

   She folded her arms in front of herself, and tossed her head, blinking
loudly. "Your wish is my command, oh master."

   *Never should have let her watch those `I Dream of Jeannie' re-runs.
<sigh> Ah, well...* he thought. A hologram of the stolen suit shimmered
into existance atop the counter to the sound of a ringing bell. He raised 
an eyebrow. "Practicing the special effects again, Min?"

   He bent to look at the suit, then groaned as he recognized the design.
"If that thing has a LexCorp Industries logo stamped anywhere on it, I swear
I'm gonna hunt down the designer and mash him like a grape."

   She regarded the hologram intently. "They did a pretty good design job,
boss. Especially when you consider what they have to work with. The myomer
and flat motor technology in this world isn't quite as advanced as it could
be." She frowned. "But it's more like a battlemover than a battlesuit or
armor, boss."

   "How do you figure that, pretty lady?"

   "Well, the JSDF and the ADP define a hardsuit as something you wear, and
a battlemover as something you pilot from a cockpit." She pointed a long
slender finger at the LCX-1. "See? It's a pod/walker design. No seperate
head or neck. The body is mostly a cockpit, with the fusion engine, life
support and consumables mounted behind and below the pilot's seat."

   He scratched behind an ear thoughtfully. "Okay. I'll buy that. How's it
armed?"

   "Weaponry as follows, b'wana - the right arm contains a 75mm hi/low
pressure autocannon using principles similar to the American M-79 grenade
launcher to reduce felt recoil, as well as a 20 mm minigun. The left arm has
a large UV laser, a flame thrower that taps plasma from the fusion reactor,
and.. ohh.. _this_ is interesting.. an arc rifle. I _like_ this. A set of
electrodes positioned so that a huge jolt of DC current can be dumped down
the highly conductive path of ionized air that the laser can create. A home
made lightning bolt, as it were. You get blast damage, electrical damage, 
and fire, all in one shot. Very effective use of resources. It's something
of a power hog, though. "

   "Baby, I want to know how to take the damned thing down, NOT give the
designer an award for best mecha of the year!"

   The hologram went to a schematic and began to rotate slowly. "Well..
here's something. The reactor is heavily shielded, but the shielding is
physically contiguous with the armor plating on the lower rear torso. And
the reactor design is one I'm familiar with. If the containment starts to
fail, for _any_ reason, the reactor is scrammed by opening a valve and
dumping the deuterium supply overboard. Simple and elegant. No fuel, no
reaction. It dies like a burnt-out match."

   Ed grinned. "Nice. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

   "Quite likely, lover. We have several of them in storage, and I can
replicate more at a moment's notice. Not that we'd need more."

   "Good. Get a pair of them ready, and prepair a J5 unit, m'dear. I'll
play the decoy, and you nail him from behind. What do you say?"

   The ACI smiled. "I say this is going to be fun. I'll get your costume."

   He laughed. "Then let's get dangerous, girl."

   Minerva made a rude noise. "Who elected _you_ Darkwing Duck?"

   "What, you need to be elected?"

                                   * * *

   Leon swore as a crackling bolt of electrical energy struck the vehicle he
was sheltering behind. "Why do _we_ get all the maniacs in Mega-Tokyo?"

   Daley shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess." He turned, and waved a RPG team
forward. "Try and nail that thing in the legs. HQ wants us to take it in as
undamaged as possible."

   The officer carrying the rocket grenade launcher crawled forward and 
looked at him as if he were crazy. "Right. Someone's driving a 10 ton war
machine around the city on a joyride, and we're supposed to take it back 
intact?"

   "Those are the orders from the top," winced Daley. "We're expendable.
The armor isn't."

   The RPG team leader laughed bitterly. "That lets us know where we stand,
eh?" He nodded to the rest of his team, and they dashed forward. They
managed to get off three shots at the four meter tall battlesuit before it
noticed them and fired back. The two rounds that did strike the suit didn't
do any apparent damage, and _did_ serve to draw the suit's fire.

   "Daley, if we don't stop that thing soon, it's going to turn us into
sushi. It's going down, and if the Chief doesn't like that, that's _his_
problem. OUR problem is getting out of this mess alive. Preferably with the
same number of limbs we started out with!" Leon risked reaching into the
patrol car and groping for the three shot railgun he kept in the trunk.

   "Oy! Hey, Leon! Daley! How's it hanging, guys?"

   Bochinski and Wadderson, sheltering behind an armored car, groaned. They
both recognized the voice. Bochinski popped his head up over the car for a
second and took a look. Then he dropped down and glanced at his partner.
Wadderson noted the look on his face and she winced. "It's him, isn't it?"

   Bochinski simply dropped his face into his hands. "It is."

   The terrorist piloting the suit turned towards the voice, and stopped in
surprise at the unarmed man in black casually strolling down the street
towards him.

   Leon and Daley, meanwhile, rolled their eyes. "It just got worse,"
muttered Leon.

   "At least it's not Godzilla," said Daley brightly. "We can be grateful
for that!"

   Leon gave him a long-suffering stare. "You wouldn't happen to be on any
special anti-psychotic medications that I need to know about, are you?"

   Meanwhile, in the street, the Mystery Vigilante had walked up to the
battlesuit and stopped about 20 feet away from it. He grinned underneath his
silk mask and looked the suit up and down. "All right then. Do you want to
make this easy, or do you want it hard?"

   The armor's left arm snapped forward and a laser flared to life, the beam
engulfing him. When it faded, he stood there, impatiently tapping a toe.
"I take it that means no. Okay... hard it is." He looked over in Leon's
direction, raising his voice in order to be heard over the din. "You know,
Leon, you _really_ should take some time and let the low-rent hired goons
read the ADP files on me. Then they wouldn't waste my time and theirs
trying to beat me with second-rate weapons."

   "I didn't exactly have an opportunity to to brief them before they
'jacked the thing, buddy!" Leon shouted back. "I was a little busy at the
time!"

   An angry snarl came from the suit as the minigun whirled to life,
spraying 20 mm ammunition at the black-clad figure. The cannon joined it,
launching a HEMP (High Explosive, Multi-Purpose) round. When those had no
more effect than to drive the Vigilante back several steps, the suit dashed
forward and kicked at him. The impact of the kick drove the man's feet deep
into the pavement, but seemed to have left him entirely uninjured. The suit
backed up and tried the arc rifle. The high voltage discharge crackled
through the air, but had no more effect than the other weapons did.

   "You ready to surrender now, buddy? Or am I gonna hafta get tough with
you?" Ed put his hand up to his mouth and yawned in an ostentatious manner
intended to get the point across. "You _are_ coming out of that suit,
friend... the only choice you have is whether you do it hard or easy." Both
his voice and manner were deliberately insulting. They had the desired
result. The pilot screamed in frustration, and opened fire with all
weapons, paying no attention to anything else that was occuring.

   {Minerva! Now! He's focused on me. Launch the crab mine!}

   Watching the one-sided battle, Leon wondered just what the hell was
going on. Then he noticed a cylinder of light forming several meters behind
the battlesuit. A figure quickly built up inside the light, and when it
faded, quickly moved into position behind the battlesuit.

   He gaped at the unusual shape. Metallic, it was propelled by a pair of
triangular catapillar treads with a trailing tail-wheel providing balance. A
hinged, tubular body supported a pair of skeletal arms and a head shaped
much like a large cigar box. Large eyes, shaded and protected by delicate
seeming metal leaves, looked out over a row of small red lights that
resembled a mouth. A laser was mounted over one shoulder, and a bulky
launcher over the other. He would have been tempted to laugh at its
appearance, if it weren't for the air of determination that surrounded it.

   Daley, on the other hand, _had_ seen the movie and despite the
seriousness of the situation was desperately trying to resist a severe fit
of giggles.

   The small automaton quickly rumbled forward and the launcher snapped
into position. There was a loud `chunk' and a round flat projectile struck
the battlesuit in the back, sticking to its armor plating. It split down
the center, and a tiny red diode on each half lit up.

   The suit spun around at the sound, but it was too late. The articulation
of the arms didn't allow it to reach around to it's back to remove the
device.

   "What the hell was that?" wondered Bochinski loudly. The Vigilante
answered them all.

   "_That_, folks, is a crab mine. It uses a friggin' huge array of
microscopically small, incredibly high-powered magnets to cling to the
surface of any ferric metal. And once it has a firm grip, it's nearly
impossible to remove it without cutting the power."

   "That won't do any good," shouted one of the officers behind the
barricades. "That damned armor can take almost any explosive."

   "Who said anything about explosives?" laughed the Vigilante. He was
interupted by a loud creaking sound. "Each half of that mine contains a
second array of equally powerful magnets that are right now pushing each
other away with all their strength. Since they still have a _very_ firm
grip on the metal immediately beneath them, they'll pull that apart as they
repel each other." He grinned. "It was originally created for breaching
steel blast doors. It's not as _fast_ as an explosive blast, but it's MUCH
more powerful. That particular design was meant for peeling open blast
doors over 25 centimeters thick. It'll take about a minute or so, but it'll
open that suit like a tin of corned beef. Without destroying it, might I
add."

   By this time, the person in the suit was desperately flailing about,
slamming back first against a nearby wall in a futile attempt to knock the
device from its back. The creaking, now easily recognizable as the sound
of metal bending and tearing under incredible stress, was much louder and
quite continuous.

   The man in black continued, "And if the schematics I saw on that little
toy were correct, it's powered by a fusion reactor that's located just 
beneath where the mine has attached itself. Which means that the intense 
magnetic fields it's generating should be interfering with the reactor, 
disrupting the fusion containment fields." He glanced down at his watch. 
"If I'm right, the emergency overrides should be dumping the hydrogen fuel
and shutting the reactor down right... about... _now_!"

   With a despairing wheeze, a small panel on the side of the LCX-1 blew
off, and a jet of hot gas sprayed out wildly, igniting as it hit the air.

   "Ayup. There she blew. Which, by the way, means that our little friend in
there is now running on battery back-up power. And I strongly suspect that
he doesn't have enough of that to run all those fancy electrically powered
weapons. Or the musculature, for that matter." He strode over to the
machine, and casually kicked it in the shin. It toppled over with a groan
and fell onto the sidewalk, landing on it's right side. The left arm
twitched, and the laser it contained flickered briefly, melting a tiny patch
of asphalt. Then the beam faded like a dying flashlight.

   He laughed. "Should have used Energizer batteries. They last longer.
Just ask that silly bunny." He stepped forward as the suit slowly rolled
face down to the street with a pathetic sounding mechanical groan. "Now, 
are you going to pop your hatch and come out willingly? Or am I going to 
have to come in there after you? If I do, trust me, you _won't_ enjoy it."

   To his abrupt surprise, there was a loud hissing sound, and the suit's
cockpit windows were suddenly backlit from inside by bright flames. He
rushed over and, gripping the edges already torn apart by the crab, yanked
the armor open.

   Inside the smoking cockpit was a blackened parody of a man.

   Leon stepped up behind him, and looked inside. He swallowed heavily, then
waved his men forward. "Guess he didn't intend on being taken alive."

   "Or to be identified," added Daley, looking at the corpse. "See the face?
Or what's left of it? Looks like he may have put whatever it was he used
between his teeth. Must have been some explosive in there, too. The jaw is a
mess. It's going to take forensics DNA analysis to identify him, _if_ they
can."

   "Blech. Urgle." Ed spat a suddenly bitter taste from his mouth.
"Fanatics. You know I hate them."

   Leon nodded, then he turned to look at Ed. "We appreciate the assist,
believe me. Especially since we have the suit intact." He eyed the torn
armor plating on the back. "Well, mostly intact, anyway. But my superiors
are on the way and they're going to INSIST that we arrest you." He coughed
into his fist. "Or at least try to arrest you. So..." He let the sentence
trail off suggestively.

   "Right. Time to ride off into the sunset, so to speak." He tipped his
Stetson to the the officers. "Glad to help, guys. Y'all take care, okay?"
Then he and the J5 vanished into a swirl of glittering particles, which
quickly faded into nothingness. The crab mine followed them a moment later.

   Daley sighed enviously. "I wonder how he manages that. It's certainly a
classy exit."

                                   * * *

   "Did you get ANYTHING, pretty lady?"

   Minerva shook her head. "He suicided without saying anything, b'wana. And
that worries me. You don't usually see behavior like that in anyone except
the highly fanatical, or the heavily programmed and implanted."

   Ed made a sour face. "Call it what it is, Min... brainwashing."

   "As you wish. But the point remains the same. Whether fanatics or
brainwashed zombies, this attempt had to _cost_. Someone went to a lot of
trouble here, and they won't take their loss lightly."

   He nodded. "Genom? Maybe they wanted to steal the suit without looking
guilty?"

   "Unlikely. They stood to lose more by taking it then they had to gain."

   "Damn," he swore. "Then who?"

   She shrugged. "It had to be some group with significant resources. Or at
least access to such resources. That means something the size of a goverment
or a major corporation. No two for a dollar terrorist group pulled this off,
b'wana. The probability of that is less than 4%. Unless they're merely a 
front for someone else, in which case it rises to 32%."

   "Okay. Here's the drill. I want _everything_ we have on this mess down on
a disk, ready for Sylia. It's her city and she's its rightful protector.
That includes anything you can pull out of the ADP computers and other
systems. We'll give it to her just as soon as the Sabers return from
Nagoya." He paused. "Raid Genom too. Even if they aren't behind it, they
might know something without knowing that they know. It's awfully easy to
lose data in a system as large as that without someone as powerful as you to
mind it and coallate it."

   "Flatterer," she smiled. "Okay, I'm off to mug the ADP system. Now THAT'S
comedy."

   "Wait." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Check out the company that
hired Sylia to guard the chip shipment. But do it quietly. Don't let them
know they've been penetrated. Linna did say that the contract was
suspiciously lucrative... the whole thing might have been a put-up job.
Sylia obviously checked them out with Fargo, and probably used Wingman on
them, but Wingman isn't sentient. When it comes to snooping the datanets,
you're second to none, love."

   "Can do. I'm already on it in fact."

                                   * * *

   "What do you MEAN you didn't arrest him?! THERE'S A STANDING WARRENT OUT
FOR HIS ARREST, YOU YOUNG PUNK!!"

   Leon gritted his teeth and tried again. "What was I supposed to do, sir?
He'd just defeated a mecha that eight units of the force couldn't stop." He
noted the interesting purple color that was suffusing the Chief's face. *If
he doesn't calm down, he's going to have a stroke on the spot.*

   "THAT'S.." The Chief paused for a moment, almost strangling on his anger.
Then he visibly calmed himself, running his fingers through his new-grown
hair. "Look. I can accept that you felt that you were unable to take him
prisoner, given that he's some sort of super-powered freak. But you didn't
even make an attempt! The news reporters are already commenting that the
ADPolice seems to be actively _co-operating_ with the Vigilante!"

   Leon shot straight up in his chair. "That's not true! He seems to be
assisting us out of reasons of his own, whatever they may be, but NONE of us
have ever co-operated with him in any way."

   "Maybe so, McNichol, but that's not what the 6 o'clock news is claiming.
And I have the mayor and the city council on my back, demanding to know why
we're playing footsie with a known felon."

   "We're doing the best--"

   "It's NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" shouted the Chief, his face turning a deeper
purple. He took a deep breath, then pointed at the door. "Go to the labs,"
he said in a calmer voice. "Someone took out three other boomers while you
and your playmates were toying with the LCX battle. I want you to take a
look at the weapon that was used on each of the them."

   "Why us?" muttered Leon.

   The Chief took a swig of antacid from a silver hip flask. "You'll
understand when you see it," he gritted out. "Better you than me."

                                   * * *

   "You have to face it, boss."

   "No." Ed slammed a hand down on the counter, then swore as a crack spread
through it. "It _has_ to be a mistake."

   Minerva's ebony hair swirled around her shoulders as she shook her head.
She stepped over to the door, turning over the `CLOSED' sign and locking it,
then drew the shades. She guestured, and a holographic map appeared on the
counter. Small red dots marked various buildings and vehicles that had been
attacked by the battlemover, and a thin green line indicated the path it had
taken from the airport.

   "There were several more effective ways to steal that suit, boss. Putting
a pilot in it and marching it through the streets of Mega-Tokyo had to be the
least effective and the most attention-getting. And thieves _never_ attract
attention willingly. It's bad for business. And then to indiscriminantly
fire at random buildings along the way?  That's stupid." She waved an
elegant hand at the hologram. "Look at the path it took. There's no way
the ADP _couldn't_ have traced it to whomever had hired it done. All they'd
have to do is follow the carnage." She shook her head again. "That wasn't a
robbery, love... it was a red herring. A McGuffin. They weren't trying to
steal that suit, they were trying to get someone's attention. Someone who'd
respond to the emergency and try to help."

   "They couldn't have known that I'd show up! I've only done muggers so
far."

   "True. But it might not have been you, boss. They might have wanted the
Crystal Knight. Both of you have made yourselves somewhat..." she paused,
frowning. "...well, obvious, for want of a better term."

   "Say what you mean, girl." he sighed. "We might as well have held up a
billboard. `Superhero for hire. Terms negotiable. Inquire within.'"

   "Exactly, lover. Whether it was meant for you, or the Crystal Knight,
someone seems interested in getting a good look at the resident superheroes
of Mega-Tokyo. And I mean good look as in a thorough scan." She frowned. "I
should have picked up on it sooner. There are traces of x-ray and gamma
radiation in the area of the battle that are slightly higher than can be
accounted for by leakage from the LCX's reactor and/or normal background
counts. It's even money you were hit with an active scan, boss. And if they
went to the trouble of an active scan, then there were passive scans done as
well."

   "Hmmmph. In my case, that's meaningless. They'd get what Doc Mui got.
Nothing."

   Minerva nodded. "True - but they had no way of knowing that in advance.
Again, that applies to Twister as well. Most of his armor is magically
powered, and and it was contructed via psycho-kinesis. A technologically
based scan would get snoopers a lot of questions and no useful answers."
   
   Edward looked up sharply. "Min, Genom is aware that magic exists. And
they're actively seeking out ways to master it. That's the only reason they
could have had for sending Madagan to me for those books. Maybe they WERE
behind it after all."
   
   "Same differences, lover. Genom stood to _lose_ money on the deal, and
we're not talking peanuts here. The LCX was intended to be _the_
next-generation replacement for the DD Battlemover. Faster, stronger, more
manuverable, able to take more damage than the DD ever could, and dish out
plenty of it's own. Armies all over the planet were getting in line to bid
on it." She shook her head. "No. Genom wouldn't ruin that opportunity simply
to get another look at you or Twister. Darlene scared them out of their
shorts when she went nuts and tried to dissolve Genom Tower down around
their ears, the Crystal Knight shocked them when he blew away those boomers
defending Nene, and you didn't exactly give them the big hello when you took
out after the tower in the Chameleon. They're quite aware that if the Knight
Sabers, the Crystal Knight and the dragon hadn't gotten in your way, you'd
have pulled down that building like a rotten tree stump."

   She gave him a firm look. "You have to be honest with yourself here,
lover. The odds that this mess can be laid to Genom's doorstep are slim.
We've got a _new_ problem."

   He growled low in his throat. "Why me?"

   "That's just the way things worked out, love."

   "Arrrrrgh!" He threw up his hands in defeat. "All right! I'll be honest
with myself. BUT... you've got to stop with the jokes, girl!"

   Minerva put on an artfully innocent expression. "Why, whatever do you
mean, boss?"

   "I _know_ someone *helped* three teams of ADPolice today, teams that were
on the short end of the stick, and were losing their fights agains boomers.
_Someone_ just happened to assist them with the kill. And girl, _you_ are
the only one in MegaTokyo with access to THAT particular weapon."

   She giggled. "I couldn't help myself, lover... we had several of them in
storage, and those cute young officers _did_ need the help."

   He gave a long suffering sigh, and turned towards the stairs to his
apartment. "I'm going to go read a book. Maybe it'll get my blood pressure
down. Just don't pull any more gags like that without _warning_ me first,
baby."

                                   * * *

   "That's impossible, Nene!" Sylia tried hard to control her expression.
"It's.. rediculous."

   "I know, but it's true! I got the word right from the lab computers.
That's _exactly_ what those three boomers were destroyed with." Nene looked
out of the screen with a half-confused, half-amused expression. "Honest!"

   Sylia sighed. "I _really_ should have a long talk with Edward. He has to
do something about Minerva's sense of humor."

                                   * * *

   Daley cautiously poked the large black object resting on a heavily
reinforced table in the center of lab #2. "It's completely inert, then?"

   The lab tech nodded. "All the damage it did to the boomer was from its
terminal velocity. Which was pretty high, from the depth of the impact
crater."

   Leon looked at the thing on the table with a sick expression. "That can't
be real."

   The tech shrugged. "It's real, all right. And _very_ dense. We're not
sure, but it might be made of some form of semi-degenerate matter. Genom's
already expressed an interest in purchasing it after we're through with it
as evidence."

   "Is it safe to touch?" asked Daley.

   The tech (Moran, from the name on the lab coat) nodded. "It's perfectly
safe. No radiation, contact poisons, internal weapons, or electronics. It's
exactly what it looks like. The only way it could hurt you is if it fell on
you, like it did the boomers."

   The blond ADP office carefully traced the lettering on the side of the
object with a finger. "Property of Warner Bros. Studios, Prop. Dept." And
below that -- "Mnfctrd Acme Anvils, Lmtd., Acme Inc."

   "Anvils," Leon moaned. "My god, we're living in a cartoon."