Someone reminded my of what a perv Mackie is, and that simply
going to college wouldn't change that. We discussed some things on irc,
and this is the reset, edited from an early first draft. Hope you all
enjoy it. 

	I'm still having trouble getting connected, but I can read my mail
about half the time.. so feel free to let me know what you think.

	Ed.

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

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

                                   * * *

   Back in his apartment, Ed was pacing restlessly. Minerva tried to ease
his concerns.

   "It's for the best, boss. The technology we've given Sylia will keep her
welll ahead of Genom. In fact, just some of the lower end items will drive
Quincy's blood pressure sky high."

   Ed frowned. "True... but if any of it gets into the hands of someone
bright enough to reverse engineer it, we'll have started an arms race that
won't end until this world is a burnt out cinder."

   Minerva smiled. "Possible, but unlikely. Most of the weaponry I've
selected for her can't even _begin_ to be reverse-engineered unless you
understand the first principles they're derived from. Genom will be in the
position of a vacuum tube specialist from the 1930's trying to copy a
superluminal processor chip or an holographic memory solid." She pointed at
the coffee table and holograms of bleeding edge designs for hardsuits,
motoroids, and associated weaponry flickered before their eyes. "Sylia's
been working with perhaps a one year lead time over Genom, more or less. Two
years at best, and sometimes as little as six months. Genom is persistant,
I'll give them that. These files? She's going to have anywhere from a five
year lead to as much as _twenty-five_ years." She gave a nasty laugh, one
that could have sent shudders down the spine of a boomer. "I'd like to see
Genom try and figure out how a hadronic photon cannon can function without
using a high-energy electron beam to swat the photons or a four-way
conjugate mirror to focus them."

   "Nasty, girl.. really nasty." He looked at her. "You're not very happy
with Genom, are you?"

   "I was beaten up by boomers that Genom built. They _hurt_ me. You
expected maybe I'd send them flowers?"

   "Flowers? Nah.. that's not your style, baby. Now, maybe a relatavistic
quantum scrambler dumped in Quincy's private lavatory? Now _that's_ you,
Min."

   She giggled. "I thought about it, lover. But like you said before, this
is Sylia's home, and her city to protect. Her claim to Quincy comes first.
After her, Priss and Linna. Then maybe Reika and Mr. Chang. Then there are a
whole lot of little people ahead of me in the line for revenge. They get to
go first. It's the polite thing to do."

   "Okay, I'll buy that. But in the meantime, you and I are gonna torment
McCarthy some more. I don't think that brain-dead military moron got the
message. You've noticed the low-rent thugs that have been following me
around lately? I guess he couldn't afford any better, now that his boss has
disallowed him any funding to harrass me. He's having to pay for them out of
his own pocket, and what little he can embezzle without getting caught."

   "Already doing something about it, b'wana." A wicked smile slipped across
her face.

   "Uh-oh... do I really want to know this?"

   She looked over at him, wide-eyed and innocent. "I haven't _killed_ them
or anything, boss.. I just made a few phone calls."

   "Phone calls?"

   "Well..." she drawled, "Street scum like that tend to have a lot of
enemies already. They owe folks money, they have their names on Wanted
posters, things like that. Quite a few people are _looking_ for them."

   He choked on his drink, dropping his ever-present cigar on the carpet.
"You ratted them out?" He began to laugh helplessly. "That's just perfect.
Either the cops will get them, or the bounty hunters, or the folks they
skipped out on. You have an evil sense of humor, m'dear."

   "Thank you, boss. Oh.. reminder: Reika will be arriving this Wensday to
meet with Linna and Sylia. Mr. Chang is remaining in the States, but Sylia
has arranged for a high-security satellite channel. He'll be able to attend
via video conference."

   "That works for me." He frowned. "Min? Personality projection and
profile for Mr Chang. Code _SHIVA_. Give me the best and worst case
senarios, and their likelyhood."

   Minerva's eyes went blank, and her face took on an abstracted look.
"Biggest difficulty projected will be convincing Mr. Chang to involve the
Hou Bang in the on-going struggle with Genom. He'll be exposing the tong to
a much higher level of danger by confronting Genom directly. As in all such
organizations, the tong comes first, the individual second. It's his family,
and he will protect it as such, even at the cost of forgoing vengance for
Irene." She paused for a moment. "That's not to say he'll back down. The
pride of the Hou Bang is equally important. Genom murdered Irene and
manufactured the boomers that Gulf & Bradley used to assasinate her parents.
He won't be fearful, but he will be cautious. He must be convinced that
there are reasonable odds for success. If those odds are to his liking, the
probability that he will accept a modified version of the plan you and Sylia
have talked over is quite high."

   She opened her eyes again. "If we can convince Mr. Chang that the odds
are favorable, and the Hou Bang will not be implicated directly, he will
sign on almost immediately. If we cannot assure him that the tong is safe,
he'll walk out on us in a heartbeat."

   "Good. Is there anything else?"

   "One... small problem, boss."

   He winced dramatically. "I'm ready, straighten me."

   "Sylia wants to see you tomorrow evening. It's about the archive you gave
her. There's .. something she'd like to discuss with you."

   "Oh? What?"

   Minerva began edging slowly away from his chair. "You aren't going to
like this, boss.. we made a little mistake.. it's not my fault.. honest.."

   "Will you _please_ tell me what the problem is?!"

   "I copied the entire BGC fanfic archive onto the logic solid you gave
her, boss. Just like _you_ asked me to."

   "So?" he wondered.

   "The _entire_ directory. Including the lemon stories."

   Ed swallowed hard. "I'm dead. Oh boy, am I dead." He started to shiver ever
so slightly. "I'm so dead, they're gonna have to kill me three times over,
I'm so dead." He looked at her with desperate eyes. "Please tell me Priss
hasn't seem them. Please!"

   "Not yet," she said. "Sylia told me that the rest of the Sabers haven't
seen them yet. And they won't, unless you try to skip out on this meeting."

   He nodded. "Yup. I'm dead. I am SOOOOO dead..."

                    ***********************************

   Priss wasn't irate. She wasn't angry. She wasn't even furious. There
simply wasn't a word for the state of incandecent rage Priss was in at the
moment. She wanted someone very, very dead, and wasn't going to get that.

   Right now, she was doing a slow burn at Mackie. "I want to know
_everything_ you've heard about this, you little pervert, and I want to know
NOW! Or I'll start taking you apart like a roast chicken! You got that?!"

   Mackie looked back at the angry red eyes that were burning into his, and
fervently wished that he'd managed to obtain the plans for that belt Nene
had told him about, the one that let the Mystery Vigilante turn invisible
and walk through walls. He felt an urgent need to do both at the moment.

   "I.. uhh.. I was snooping on sis, and I found out that Mr. Edwards gave
her a holographic storage crystal full of text files about the lives that
we.. I mean.. the _other_ Stingrays and Asigiri's and Yamazaki's lead in the
other realities he knows about. Sylia wanted it for research" He started to
wipe some nervous sweat from his forehead and froze, as Priss's fingers
tightened in the front of his shirt. He hurried on. "I took a look inside
and there was an entire directory, dozens of megabytes long, devoted to
nothing but erotic stories about the Knight Sabers. Stories about Sylvie and
Anri, you and Leon.." He gulped slightly, and contined. "Stories about you
and Sylvie, me and sis, Linna and Nene... and you and sis."

   The hand tangled in his shirt front threatened to lift him from the
garage floor. "And you made copies for your own amusement, didn't you, you
deviate," Priss hissed at him. He nodded nervously. "Well, little boy, we're
going to go to your terminal, and we're going to wipe those files, aren't
we?"

   "But I went to so much trouble to get..." He paused there as Priss's
other hand began to approach his throat. "OntheotherhandIsupposeIdon't
reallyneedthosefilestherearealwaysthephonesexnumberslemmeshowyouthepassword
togetintomyprivatedirectory," he managed to get out in the rush of a single
breath.

   Priss grinned ferally. "Good boy. The sooner you delete those files, the
sooner I may decide to let you live."

   The young man nodded and managed to ask a question. "How did you..?"

   "...find out?" she finished. "You may have a brain, Mackie, but if you
don't stop thinking with what's between your legs, it won't do you any good.
Nene walked into the computer center while you were _supposed_ to be on duty
and saw what was on the screen before you hid it. She was shocked. I wasn't.
I know you better." She set him back on the ground. "I can't do much to Ed,
but I can _certainly_ make sure that _you_ don't have any copies of those
stories to drool over." She spun him around and gave him a one-handed shove
that sent him stumbling towards the computer room. "Time to start deleting
files. Unless you want me to delete you."

   When they reached the room, Mackie's spirits sank even further. The other
three members of the Knight Sabers were standing there, arms crossed. *Oh,
shit. I'm fucked,* he thought wildly. *They haven't looked this pissed at me
since they found those nude posters of themselves and Darlene hidden in my
bedroom.* He desperately searched for something to say, something that would
let him get out of this alive.

   "I.. I'm sorry??"

   Sylia simply pointed to the keyboard. "We're recording every keystroke
and mouse movement. Nene will be watching you on another terminal," she said
in a flat, almost disinterested tone. "Don't even think of trying to keep
any copies. And delete the .image files as well."

   Mackie went whiter than before. *They found the pictures too?! How?!*
"Err.. what image files, sis?" Then he urked as Priss's hand wrapped around
his throat. "RIGHT! _Those_ image files! Right away, sis!" He raced for the
seat in front of the keyboard and began deleting files at a furious pace.

   Sylia gave him a cold smile. "Excellent. And Mackie? We're going to have
a long talk tonight."

   He groaned miserably.

                                   * * *