[FFML] [Fanfic][BGC] Frozen Butterfly Arc 3 Chapter 1 - Draft

[skychan]

 Thank's to some significant help from those on the list, most particularly
Matthew Campbell this chapter is now ready in a draft state.  Please feel
free to comment on it and help me to improve.  All comments and critisim's
are welcome.

Sincerely,
Kelly
skywise,skychan

Frozen Butterfly Arc 3 Chapter 1 a story of Bubblegum Crisis

The world was comforting and warm, filled with a gentle thrum, light
bathing my eyes in a golden glow.  It tickled under on my skin, like a
feather was being drawn across it.  When with a snap like a dam breaking,
knowledge built up for days came pouring through.

*Fluidics systems 100%, Ocular systems 81.2%, Damage to abdominal cavity
and associated musculature 3.2%, Damage to Epidermis 1.3%, time to repair
23:22:00 at current rate.*  Of course it couldn't be right.  I was more
badly damaged than that wasn't I, and my blood supply had been
deteriorating for weeks before…

The Fight!

Jerking as my eyes flashed open I was halted abruptly, straps holding me in
place.  Eyes now wide open; I tugged my arms and kicked my feet finding
both equally restrained.  Turning my eyes from the blurred concrete
overhead I saw an impression of red hair, Nene?  My mouth hanging open for
a moment.

Beside her was another woman, she seemed strangely familiar, with short
black hair and light skin.  She was wearing a dark violet business suit and
some kind of cream colored blouse.  Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I
turned my gaze back to Nene, remembering the last few moments before… now.

"Ne-Chan, what's going on?"  I couldn't help it, practically begging her to
answer, my voice weak and pleading.  I didn't add it aloud, but unspoken
another question burned inside my mind.  'Why am I alive?'

Watching her reaction created an enigma.  My heart pounding as she stepped
closer, the care in her bearing, the way she leaned toward me, hand rising
in a subconscious intent revealing her thoughts.  S*ubject exhibiting
relief and concern 95% probable.*  But, wasn't she a Knight Saber?  They
killed boomers like me, and she had to know what I was by now.

Nene shuffled her feet under my gaze, mouth opening as if trying to figure
out how to start.  Before she could however the other woman cleared her
throat instantly drawing my attention.

"Ms. Ceallaigh, rather 4m83r, as I am sure you have realized by now you
would not have survived without our assistance."  She paused for just a
moment to let that sink in.  "I presume that you are also clever enough to
come to the correct conclusion as to who we are." *Subject is member of the
Knight Sabers probability approaching parity.*

"Despite your previous association with Officer Romanova it is not safe for
you to wander about freely, for you or for us.  For the time being
therefore you are and will remain our prisoner.  That much is
non-negotiable.  However, within the confines of that there is room for
discussion."  Her tone was calm, stating facts, and sent a chill down my
spine.  Somehow I knew this was a woman to be watched closely.

"For the time being you are required to continue to wear a security
bracelet.  It regulates your systems, prevents you from accessing any
wireless network and of course serves as a monitor recording your movement
and activities."  At that I looked with a hint of fear at my left wrist.  There
hooked into a maintenance port shone a simple metallic bracelet. Worse, now
that I knew it was there I could almost feel it in my mind, a low whistling
sensation as if from a breeze blowing through me and taking with it the
heat of life.

Heedless of my sudden discomfort she went on.  "If you answer our questions
honestly and cooperate fully, you will be allowed some freedom."

I could almost physically feel the urge to respond, the promise of freedom
this woman dangled just within reach.  Before pausing to even think it over
I found myself nodding.  "Of course, anything, please, I'm not a danger,
really."  My voice straining to project sincerity well enough that she
would believe me.  As although she didn't say it; she didn't have to.  My
options were cooperation and confinement, or death.

Disconcertingly without my glasses I couldn't read her well enough to
predict a response to my plea.  Her face nothing but a blur revealing none
of the subtle clues I had grown so accustomed to seeing.

"Good, now then, we will start with Genom.  What is your current
relationship with them?"

Personally I thought it was a rather stupid question, she was being either
intentionally dense or was fishing with the vagueness question.  "I don't
have one, if they knew I was still alive they would probably try to kill
me."  Given that I would give a similar answer no matter what the truth I
could only hope she was fishing and took the clue I left dangling.

"What leads you to believe that they do not think you are alive?"  Her next
question following swiftly on the heels of my response.

I actually had to stop and think, blinking for a moment.  It actually was a
pertinent one, if she somehow knew I had gotten caught up in things
mistakenly.  Catching a slight shift, a hint of impatience slipping into
her stance I stopped pondering to answer, as truthfully as I could.

"Well, as far as they know I was properly disposed of.  Mast…" stopping
myself at the wrongness of that thought I corrected myself and went on,
"Mister Flint was careful when he acquired me to make sure that there would
be no trails leading to him.  From what I could discover my re-activation,"
a phrase that sent little shivers down my spine, "wasn't approved by anyone
else in the company.  For that to change he would have to admit what he did
and that I had then escaped.  I don't think he will do that."  *Analysis of
subject Flint shows supposition 93% probable.*

Staring up at that still judging form somehow feeling she wasn't satisfied
I realized just how much I had left out.  "Let me explain… it’s a long
story.  I-" worrying my lip between my teeth I paused.  It felt wrong to
keep secrets from her; maybe I could give an edited account, one she could
believe instead of the farfetched truth.

"I'm an experiment.  I was first activated in 2032 by Brian J. Mason.  It
had something to do with transferring memories but I wasn't ever told the
specifics."  Only the complete control I extended over my physical
reactions let me appear calm beneath that imposing gaze, even blurred her
slightly narrowed eyes seeming to look right through me.

"Ah, that's when I first met Nene.  I… didn't like it there and wanted to
be free."  Like that wasn't an understatement… "And she helped me to escape
the facility I was being held at.  Unfortunately there was some kind of
tracker I didn't know about and… well, Genom caught me in less than a day
and I… was shut down."

Physical control or not I felt a shiver as I remembered my encounter with
Mason, the helplessness and certainty that it was the end.  "Actually, I'm
kind of getting used to 'waking up' like this."  I joked a little tugging
at my wrists to indicate the restraints, but unfortunately she didn't take
the hint and offer to let me up, though it did have Nene squirming
uncomfortably behind her.

"Soo," I went on with a little sigh, "uh the next thing I knew I was waking
up in Mister Flint's penthouse.  He's some bigwig in Genom R&D.  Not an
egghead but a suit.  Anyway it was pretty obvious he wasn't supposed to
have me.  Every part of the reactivation sequence was done pretty
incompetently.  He's why I need glasses."

When even that didn't draw a reaction I tried to hurry things up, now just
wanting to get to the next question, anything to try and relieve the nerves
now plaguing me.  "So, um, anyway he had taken care of all the records
Genom had on me, and then I escaped, so in Genom only he knows I exist and
hopefully he won't ever speak up just to cover his own ass. "

There was a nod, and I got the impression, *58% probable low certainty due
to limitations on subject input clarity*, that she had expected or somehow
knew my story before even asking.  I looked over to Nene, and from her
slight shrug and unfocused smile realized that they had already put it
together.

"Um, is there anything you don't already know that I can answer for you?" I
asked, my tone a little wry, and a lot annoyed, as I didn't bother to hide
my feelings.

"Yes, why Nene?"  The question was short, simple, but I something in her
tone that implied it was deeper and more important than it seemed.

"Uh, she's a friend.  She helped me out when she didn't have to…"  Clearly
I wasn't giving her what she wanted.  Even with my visual impairment the
certainty was rising by the moment.  "Why not Nene, I don't understand."  It
was my turn for confusion as she just nodded more to herself than me.

"I am going to release you now, but you are not to leave this room.  The
door to the rest of the basement is sealed, the elevator will not function
if you are present or if the bracelet is removed of disabled.  We will be
monitoring you around the clock."  Her hands worked at the bindings as she
explained the limits to my new world.

Finally removing the last strap, she handed me my glasses.  Focusing on her
face I got a good look for the first time.  Her eyes were piercingly
intelligent, brown but far from ordinary.  I had to look away first.  "Thank
you."  Hands fumbling with the hem of the hospital gown someone had put me
in I changed the subject.

"Do you have anything else I could wear… can I take a shower… how normal is
my life going to be?"

"Nene can help with that, she visited your apartment to gather your
personal effects.  Good day Amber."  And with that she turned on an
expensive heel and was gone, the door locking shut in her wake leaving Nene
and I sitting alone together, staring, the silence growing awkward between
us.

Unable to let it continue any further I finally looked up, brushing back my
bangs and said point blank.  "So, you’re a Knight Saber huh… how, or well,
I guess, why am I still alive?  I thought that, you guys just killed
boomers…"  I left off, 'like me' but it wasn't really needed.  She
obviously knew what I was asking.

It was a relief to see her fidget beneath my gaze.  Nene looked just as
nervous and distressed over the situation as I felt.  "We really don't just
go around hunting boomers.  Really we're more of uh, mercenaries?"

It was cute watching her try to say that, trying to make it sound like a
good thing.  Add the way she began to blush when I lifted a single eyebrow
questioningly at the statement made her realize that from my perspective
that probably wasn't really much better.

Growing a bit incensed she glared back at me.  "Don't look at me like that,
we only take good jobs.  Or, well, uh, we don't do bad one's…" another
raised eyebrow and I had her almost fuming.  "Hey, it costs a lot of money
to build and maintain power armor.  Sure sometimes we stop rogue boomers as
a public service, but we're not like, a boomer hate group or something. "

That nervous flutter in my stomach was gone.  Yes she was a Knight Saber
but still, this was Nene, my Ne-chan and it was hard to remain afraid when
she was standing there nearly pouting and trying to defend herself to me.

Reaching out I put a hand on her shoulder.  "It's okay, I believe you I do.
I even understand why I can't go, but it's better than being dead.  Thank
you."

I took a nice steadying breath just in case the next thing I had to know
resulted in bad news.  "Nene, what happened to Irene?"

The slight hesitation before her answer didn't match with her
expression, *Indication
subject more concerned by ancillary concerns than status of referent
83%.*  "Irene
is fine… mostly."  She let out a sigh.  "She was injured, but given who
she's related to there shouldn't be scars once she's recovered."  Drooping
even more she continued on.  "But she's left Japan, and probably she won't
ever return, ever."

"What, who's her family, and, will she be okay, where did she go?"  I
couldn't explain it, but just hearing that she was gone hurt more than the
lingering injuries from the fight.  Part of the foundation of my new life
stolen away with just a few simple words.

"To China, I can't say more, really, but she will be safe there, Genom
won't threaten her again."  Her dreary countenance turning what should have
been an expression of triumph into a depressed confession.  "We were
supposed to protect her, protect you both really but, I'm sorry we just
weren’t fast enough."

Looking like she wanted to say more but wasn't quite sure how Nene fell
quiet.  To my dismay I realized that Irene wasn't the only one I had lost
in the aftermath.  The intimacy of our relationship was gone, and as I sat
watching Nene get up and slip quietly out the door I just hoped somehow it
could be salvaged.

***

My first few days of confinement were heartbreakingly desolate.  It was
worse than waking up to the tender attentions of Dr. Sutekina, because then
at least I had things to do, people around to prevent a slide into
depression.  The majority of my time was spent alone, locked in a small
storage room with nothing to do beside endlessly wonder how I could have
avoided ending like this.

I was only rarely let out into the general area of their base, to go to the
bathroom, shower before being locked away again.  When I was let out one of
them was always on guard but the few times I tried to start a conversation
with Priss ended in miserable failure and an even more upset singer.

The look of betrayed confusion in Linna's eyes the first time it was her
job to watch me was enough to quell the desire to even try to explain
myself and I found it was even harder to take the gaze of a friend than
that of a virtual stranger.

The only bright spot in those early days came with Sylia.  When she
appeared at the door letting me out I could almost feel the world becoming
a better place.  She always had something to say, and even though she never
used my true name around her the tedium was vanquished until once more I
heard the deadbolt click into place.  The lingering scent of life outside
lasting long after the door had closed.

***

I found my other solace in spying.  While Sylia's bracelet somehow managed
to disable my ability to speed up or slow down my own processing speed, it
didn't seem to affect my senses.  Still able to distinguish sounds as low
as 20dB eavesdropping was still possible.

"Nene, I know you care about her, but you need to be careful.  I know it
doesn't seem like it but she's a newborn, and still in the danger period."

"She's not like that Sylia.  She's stable, and even if she weren't she
wouldn't hurt us.  I trust her."

"Perhaps, but that very attitude is why you cannot be trusted to guard her
by yourself.  You know the numbers as well as I do.  Ninety percent Nene,
that is how many go rogue; violently.  And while it may be argued that Kari
has already gone rogue or is past the danger point I'm not willing to
gamble with your life."

"It's not a gamble Sylia, you saw what she did.  She risked herself twice
for Irene.  She wouldn't hurt me, heck she was frightened of me when we
first met and she realized I was with the AD Police."

"That is why I have not allowed you to be alone with her.  If something did
go wrong you would not respond in time.  This is an end to the discussion.  If
you want to see her that is fine, but not alone; it is not safe."

***

After I heard that Nene came to visit me for the first time since I woke up.
To my frustration her visit was strained, and it was awkward trying to find
something to talk about.  The things I wanted to say I didn't feel
comfortable admitting to in front of the staring eyes of Priss across the
room.  Nene was just too *guilty and confused *to feel comfortable*.*  Finally
I inspiration struck and I begged her for a piece of cheesecake.  To my
relief the walls seemed to tumble down.  The mundane desire, a need I could
express helped us to find new common ground to explore.

***

Linna was doing her best to pretend I didn't exist, *probability 69%*.  She
didn't visit for two full weeks though she served as guard for Nene several
times.  My chance to change that came when it was her turn to let me out of
the room for a shower and she caught me in the middle of my weekly required
self-maintenance fitness plan, I finally saw a chance to connect.

"Why are you doing that?"  She asked when the door opened to me being in
the middle of a set of crunches.  *Subject curiosity overcoming distrust
87% likely.*

"I don't want to get fat."  I grinned up at her.  "You don't really think
you can get a body like this for free do you?" *Indications subject has not
given prospect thought 80%.  *Overriding the requirement to finish I paused
in my workout to face her directly.

"Linna, my body may have come off a production line somewhere but if you
really think about it so did yours.  I have to take just as much care of it
as you.  I have to exercise and watch what I eat carefully.  The
consequences for me are immediate, while you have some leeway.  Everything
I told you at the club is true, even if my manufacturer wasn't true-life
I'm the same person now as then.  I have to deal with the same problems
every heavily cybered person does.

Going back to my work out I let her stew on that for a bit, letting her see
me struggle and strain through the vigorous routine.  Watching her from the
corner of my eye I let her think on what I had said.  Laying back and
panting for air just like I did at the conclusion of her classes an idea
came to me and looking up at her I could feel the sly grin coming over my
face.  *Subject susceptible to planned proposal 95% likely.*

"You know, exercising alone is pretty boring, and I just know Nene hasn't
been back to the club since… well, without me to pester her, *96% likely, * and
while I understand I can't leave, that doesn't mean you couldn't hold
classes here just for the two of us.  Even if she tries to get out of it
you let her know, she promised to come to classes with me.  We never said
where."

I don't know it was appearing more human in her eyes, or if she just
couldn't keep me at arm's length any longer but plotting together against
Nene did the trick.

In fact, learning of the idea Sylia decreed all the Knight Sabers showed up
as well turning my spur of the moment idea into a thrice weekly ordeal.  One
that quickly took Nene and I from fit, to downright athletic.

***

After one session I could hear them discussing me again over the sound of
the shower.

"I don't trust it Linna, that, that THING was pretending to be a real
person.  It fooled me, it fooled Nene, it even tricked you.  If it did that
once how can we trust its promises to behave.  It's a liar and it's not
human."

"Priss, calm down.  Kari-san isn't here to trick us.  She's as much a
victim as Genom is.  Have you talked with her?  She didn't want to hide
things from us but how honest did she need to be?  One word of the truth
into the wrong ear and she would have been dead.  Can't you see it from her
perspective?"

"Yah right, that bloodsucker's probably just waiting for a chance to stab
us in the back." **

"I wish you wouldn't call her that, we both know it isn't Kari's fault she
had to survive on human blood, and we both know she wasn't out…harvesting
like some kind of vampire.  From what Sylia says things were actually
reaching the critical point for her already and she still hadn't done
anything to hurt someone.

***

In spite of Priss's continuing distrust it didn't take long for my
calculated efforts to pay off.  Not only did they begin to talk to me
again, but brought books and tapes to help pass the time.

In a little more than a month came semi-permanent liberty from the confines
of the holding cell.  I was free to join them in the main room, or use the
facilities or kitchen unattended.  The rest of the basement however
remained off limits.  Door's locked if I approached too close, but being
given even this little bit of freedom was enough to go to my head.

***

Maybe that's why I confronted Priss.  Things were going so well with
everyone else and I just wanted to win her acceptance.  She's a prickly one.
I wasn't quite sure how to deal with her because she didn't stick around
long enough to analyze her feelings.  We hadn't gotten to know one another
before the 'reveal', and she certainly didn't seem inclined to change that
now.

The continuing silence and cold shoulder was eating away at something
inside.  I could take hatred, or contempt, but the way she pretended I
wasn't real wore at me.  Finally I snapped and cornered her.  Confronting
her probably could have been handled better.

The Knight Sabers had gone out again.  Boomer hunting or one of their
mercenary jobs I wasn't sure and it didn't matter.  The important thing was
that this time I wasn't letting Priss slink away after they got back.

As usual she tried to ignore me, even quickened her pace when she saw me
coming but in this instance security worked in my favor, the elevator doors
refusing to open with me in their proximity.

"What the hell is your problem?"  She beat me to the punch, with my own
question no less.  Of course I wasn't feeling in any mood to be polite
either, the weeks of being treated like a pariah wearing on me.

"What do you think?  Did I choose to be here?  That I like being treated
like I've got a contagious disease?  The Hell!  The others at least accept
that I exist.  It isn't enough for you to keep me here, but can't you at
least acknowledge I exist?"

I could see her face screwing up with anger, watch as she took a breath to
refute my statement but this time I beat her to the punch.  "What the hell
is your problem?  I know you kill boomers for a living but that can't be
the whole story, I mean your band is named the Replicants for kami's sake."


Her face flashed from anger to surprise before her mask slipped back into
place.  *Likelihood origin of band name from movie Bladerunner correct 98%.
*With a shove she stepped into my personal space towering over me.  *Warning!
subject unstable, likelihood of hostilities 87%.  *"What do you care, it's
not like your emotions are real anyway?"

Looking back there are a lot of things I could have said at that point,
about why Priss might empathize with a runaway opposing a faceless
megacorp, or some clever analogy between myself and Rebecca or Decker, how
if I thought and felt like a human doesn't that make me close enough to
count.  I didn't do any of those things though.  Instead I took a swing at
her.

Even as my fist flew forward I realized it was a mistake, but I couldn't
help it I was just that mad.  I think surprise is the only reason it landed.
Priss's head snapped back, teeth closing with a sharp clack.  I had all of
two point three seconds to revel in my victory.  That’s when she got past
the surprise; I saw her eyes narrow and body begin to move.

Now would have been a great time to enter accelerated time, but the
bracelet disabled that function and I hadn't yet figured out a way around
the block.  Instead Priss' lunge introduced her fist to my chin, then knee
to my stomach.

>From there it got worse.  Priss fight's dirty but she's also good.  I got
two more hits in, but even reviewing the fight after the fact I couldn't
claim they were intentional.  The beating she gave me however once she got
over her initial surprise was both brutal and thankfully short.

As I lay on the ground, curled into a ball to cradle my fresh injuries and
dial back the pain she stood over me panting from the sudden burst of
adrenaline.  Shaking out a bruised fist she asked belligerently "Had
enough?"

"Have you?" I shot back quick enough.  "Or do you need to beat me up some
more to feel human?"  My words intentionally cutting, and just the opposite
of what my instincts screamed at me to say to defuse the situation,
p*robability
course of action will defuse tensions 12%.*

Her response was to draw back her foot but before she could land the next
kick I bore on.  "It's okay, I'm starting to get used to getting beat up by
soulless killing machines," *6%*.

That she went through with the kick wasn't much of a surprise.  "What the
hell do you know about it?"  She screamed as she dropped down straddling
me, fists gathered at my neck and slamming me back against the concrete
floor.  "You can't understand.  You're just a thing!"

I don't often give thanks for my loss of humanity but the ability to
suppress the pain and think clearly was invaluable.  "I'm a person, just
like you, like Nene, like the one you lost.  The only difference is I was
born a slave.  I wasn't given a choice about getting fucked over, I was
made for it.  Do I deserve to be killed for it Priss, or should I call you
Decker instead?"

In the middle of my rant I felt her begin to tremble.  Frustration stealing
her conviction.  The profanity of my response driving the final nail home,
I watched as the rage turned to confusion and guilt.  Letting go she tried
to shake it off with a snarl.  "That doesn't mean you're real, and just
because you have a shitty life doesn't mean you're not just a marionette."

Rather than speak up I let her have the last word, not moving anything but
my eyes as she backed into the elevator, my subconscious unable to provide
a meaningful read on her emotional state.  Instead I just watched her go,
laying back and feeling the cold of the floor sink into my bones at the
doors cut off that accusing stare.

***

Interacting with Sylia was different from the others.  From the beginning I
felt, no I knew she was key.  Something in her very presence bespoke of
command.  I found myself wanting to please her as much or more than those
actually on her team.  It wasn't just to get out from under the microscope
either.

It was hard dealing with her because she was difficult to anticipate.  After
my fight with Priss I expected the terms of my confinement to return to the
beginning.  To be punished for lashing out, at least some kind of reaction.


Instead the next time I saw her she brought in my dialysis machine and to
my shock several fresh pints of blood.

"Amber," she again referred to me by designation rather than name a habit I
couldn't work up the nerve to confront her over.  "By my calculations your
internal systems will require a fresh supply of nutrients for repair and
proper function."  With a gesture she made it clear I was to sit down so I
did.

Without another word she quickly and efficiently set up the transfer, as
though she had done this a thousand times, showing no discomfort at all
with the proof of my inhumanity.  Her proximity was strangely disturbing as
she took my wrist in hand to make the connections.  Skin was warmer than I
expected *37.2 degrees*; she seemed so cold I somehow thought it would
translate to everything about her.

Instead I couldn't help but catch her scent, slightly sweet yet metallic,
lingering as she stepped back and settled into the chair opposite me.  Her
eyes bored in, judging as though they could look right through me.

I shuddered a chill running through my veins.  It took long moments to
realize it was simply the rush of fresh blood and not her gaze causing the
sensation.  I wondered what she saw in me, the shivering pleasure of fresh
life literally bleeding into my veins.

Awkward the silence stretched between us before finally she broke it.  "Why
did you attack Priss?"  I couldn't read her intention behind the query at
all.  The coldness of her tone indicating to my mind just how stupid the
decision to attack had been but she gave no sign of chastising me for it
directly.

I wanted to give the question some thought, but beneath that penetrating
gaze I found myself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.  "I was
angry."  The slight twitch of her eyebrows as her façade broke, *indications
subject intrigued by response 62%, *prompted me to go on, and this time
after a moment's thought I did.

"She was ignoring me, pretending I don't exist.  It was pissing me off.  Where
does she get off judging me like that?   No… deciding that I'm not even
worthy of that much attention.  She doesn't know my life, what I've been
through, but she knows I'm a boomer and that's enough.  Like that one
little fact means she doesn't even have to take the time to think before
stuffing me in a little mental box to be forgotten."

"I wanted to make her see me.  Not what I am, but who."  Running a hand
through my hair in frustration the tubing at my wrists swaying wildly I
leaned back with a sigh.  "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have," the need to
apologize before that impassive gaze rearing up before I went on.  "But I
wasn't trying to escape or anything.  Just, make her notice me…"  Why did
it feel like I was standing in the principal's office?

I couldn't seem to come up with anything better, to explain the
inexplicable need to be noticed, acknowledged but thankfully a slight nod
relieved me of the need.  "What do you think your punishment should be?"

I sat slack jawed for a moment.  She was asking me?

"You did attack one of my Knight Sabers.  Putting you down would be a
perfectly reasonable response on our part."  *Subject exhibiting control
over pulse and respiration, suppressing voluntary body movement and
maintaining constant eye contact, intentions inconclusive.*

I had to fight to suppress the urge to blurt out the first thing to come to
mind.  Instead taking a deep breath, holding it and measuring off exactly
10 long seconds, letting it out and only then answering her question.

"Miss Stingray, if anything my… actions should prove that you and your
organization are safe from me.  I admit I was angry, and acted without
thinking it through but the results are that even attacking by surprise I
couldn't out fight Priss.  You now have proof I am at best a minor threat
and your programing blocks are working."  That last bit coming out a bit
bitterly.

"Or," Her voice calm and measured, "You are a student of Machiavelli and
this is just a small part of a deeper plan."

"Machiavelli?" I asked incredulous.  "He wrote the Prince as a primer for
people in positions of power, not for prisoners like me.  What on earth
makes you think I could or would even dare that kind of manipulation with
people who could kill me out of hand?"

Her response sent a shiver down my spine.  "The fact that not only did you
recognize the name, but are capable of relating it to your situation.  That
is not standard behavior, or information for a boomer to have.  Certainly
not one less than three months old.  Explain."

The hard look in her eyes seemed to pin me in place.  I couldn't move.  It
almost felt like I couldn't breathe with her staring expectantly at me.  A
thousand possibilities flashed through my mind, lies, half-truths, a full
confession.  I desperately sought out something to say, something to
justify myself.

What came out of my mouth next rattled me to the core.  "They aren't my
memories."  I could feel the blood almost humming in my veins as my heart
rate skyrocketed.  "I was given them w-when I was activated," wide eyes
studying every facet of Sylia's face for a reaction.

A brief flash of shock let me read her feelings before once more her
controll locked my instinctive knowledge out once more.  *Subject surprised
68% likelihood, warning subject shifting toward feelings of anger 63%
likely.*

"T-they're real memories, Human ones," I swallowed unable to hide my
nervousness as I went on but I told myself, rationalizing, it was too late
to hold back now.

"They are my memories from before I died.   They transferred them somehow,
saved them and made me."  The slightest narrowing of her remarkable eyes
had me hurrying to say more before she could make up her own mind behind
the reason.  "I'm not working for them, just an experiment.  Mason really
does think I'm dead.  I was just a, a test run, proof of concept."  I could
tell I was babbling but couldn't stop now that I had started.

It wasn't until I had blurted out the story behind my life, death, and
resurrection that I slumped back, spent but feeling oddly lighter and full
at the same time.  Only one detail had been omitted, my original gender.  It
wasn't me anymore, and I knew, instinctively, that it would cause more
problems if it got out.  I would need to leave the cocooning shell of my
gender behind if I wanted to be able to truly fly free.

"Good evening Ms. Ceallaigh."  I caught her appealing scent moments before
a hand settled on my shoulder.  She squeezed it gently before disappearing
out the door.  That single moment of reassurance, of support stayed with me
for the rest of the day.

***

Since then I felt her thawing toward me.  Even though my subconscious
couldn't quantify it something subtle in our relationship had changed;
something beyond her using my name instead of model number.  She didn't
change her behavior in any obvious way, didn't give me any more freedoms,
or lighten the security further, but still I could tell something had
changed.

***

Nene and I had recovered our friendship.  Though strained she was a good
enough person that my betrayal was not enough to break the bonds we had
forged though it did take rehashing all the conversations we had ever had
once I admitted the truth behind my memories to her.

It was the day after Sylia had browbeaten the truth from me when Nene came
in, tense, excited and looking like she wasn't sure if she should hit me or
hug me.

"What do you mean you’re a real dead person?"  Her tone made me cringe and
look for somewhere to run.  Of course there wasn't, so I had to turn back
to face the music.

"Um, I don't…" but before I could say more than that she was continuing.

"I thought you were a real person when we met!  How could you let me think
that?"

"I was I mean, am a real person… and what was I supposed to say?"  Wait,
she's angry that I told the truth at first?

Talking over my response she ranted on, "Then you turn out to be a boomer,
and what am I supposed to think?"

This time I knew enough to wait out her ranting until she reached some sort
of a point.

"And now, you let me think you were just, just some machine when you’re a
real person all along!  I should shoot you myself just so you stop changing
on me!"

Waiting a moment longer to be sure she's done, for a second at least I drew
breath.  "Nene, I'm sorry.  I just didn't know what to do.  I don't even
really know what I am anymore.  I'm me, but still I'm also a boomer…"  Standing
up I stepped close and put a hand on her shoulder following a subconscious
prompt to help calm her down.

Meeting her eyes I spoke softly forcing her to quiet down to listen.  "I'm
just me.  The same person you met on the internet, the same one who was
scared out of her wits when she realized you were a part of the AD Police.  I'm
the same one who's gone with you clubbing and for coffee.  I'm just, also a
little bit more."

"Please, you're the only thing that is real in my life.  Everything else,
it happened to someone other than me.  I may not seem it but in truth I'm
only a few months old."  I watched her closely, thumb slowly brushing
against her clavicle measuring her pulse, respiration and dilation in her
eyes.

Something in what I said caused her to stop and think.  As though she had
recognized something profound.  Something that last line blew right back
out of her thoughts.

"Wait a minute… you said you were 19 years old.  But, that movie, Wargames
was from 1983.  Just how old are you… er were you?"

Darn it, why did she have to ask such a tricky question.  "Ah, that's not
really easy to answer.  I could be 43, or 61, or 5, or 3 months.  It all
depends on how you decide to count it."  I think I broke her for a minute
as she tried to work that out.

"So, you're really 43 years old then?"  The expression of doubt and mild
aversion on her face was priceless, and a memory I decided I would have to
be sure to save forever.

"Don't be jealous Ne-chan, I'm sure by the time your my age that science
will have advance to the point that you'll be able to match my figure too."
The teasing tone and pin up pose I gave her just enough to shake her from a
building funk.

"Kari!" With a well-deserved punch to the shoulder she broke out laughing.  "I
can't believe you!"

"I'm sorry, I was built this way!"  My smile slipped just slightly as I
made a decision.  "I really am not quite the same person I was before Nene.
You shouldn't just assume that I've picked up where I um, left off," the
euphemism for death coming more easily to me than hard truth.

"It isn't just the body, but, I have, it comes with…"  I didn't expect this
to be quite so hard.  "You know what the 33-S model was made for right?"

She watched me curiously the humor slipping away as she recognized that I
was trying to say something more serious again.  "Yes, for sex."  The fact
she got it out in a single quick line, even if it did make her blush and
look away somehow a triumph.

"Well, we're also um, equipped to facilitate that by being especially good
at… manipulating and reading people."  I tried to go on before she could
draw too much of her own conclusion from that.

"It's instinctive, I can't really help but notice, or act certain ways.  It's…"
searching for a way to say it she might understand I settled on programing
language.  "It's hard coded into me.  But just because it's there doesn't
mean that my feelings are fake.  I have let it color our relationship, but
before you ever knew that, you knew me.  The real 100% genuine article.  It
doesn't work online and, and any time you want to be sure I can't, cheat,
we can talk that way.  Please don't be mad."  The last line added by that
same subconscious urge that I was admitting to consciously.  Something
expressly designed to mitigate her anger by instilling a feeling of guilt
for feeling that way.

Sitting down on the sofa she took the time to really ponder what I had said.
It was obvious now why, even at such a young age she was part of an elite
mercenary unit.  "You've been doing it to me all evening haven't you?"  Those
emerald green eyes boring into my own lighter ones seeking truth.

I hung my head a bit, all the proof of guilt she should need.  Still I
spoke up.  "Yes, I'm sorry.  I can't really help it.  I just see how to act
to calm you down, or defuse tension.  A way to try and keep you as a friend
and do whatever it is."

"If it makes it better I only do it because I care about you, about your
friendship.  I don't have to follow those feelings, if I had I never would
have taken a swing at Priss, but I wanted you to know that they are there.  I
don't want to have any more secrets from you."

To my surprise she laughed.  "Kari, it's okay.  Seriously, you don't have
to explain why Priss pisses you off. We all want to punch her some days.  As
long as you only let them lead you to do what you really want to do I won't
be too upset."

After that we sat up all night long, watching TV and talking.  I insisted
the first movie be Bladerunner.  We shared a little laugh over Priss'
choice in names before moving on to Wargames and other esoteric films from
my youth.

As the evening went on she drifted off several times.  The lost closeness
of our relationship restored.  Finally I gave up and let her sleep, tucking
by blanket around her to let her rest.

I think she may have gotten into trouble later, but the fact I was still
there in the morning and she was alive went a long way to showing I was
trustworthy.

***

"She attacked me Lina, she can't be trusted!"  I could hear Priss's voice
coming from the changing rooms again, and unsurprisingly I was the subject
of her ire.

"Priss, I saw the tape, everyone saw it.  You can't claim to be entirely
innocent here.  Besides, you put her down in seconds.  She can't be as big
a threat as you're trying to claim."

"I still say she's up to no good, just waiting for a chance to betray us,
you'll see."

"Then why didn't she do anything last night, Nene was asleep with her in
the same room.  If she really meant us harm she could have taken her
hostage or even killed her."

"It's a trick, I'm telling you, this talk of real memories, it has to be…"
but with that last line I could hear a waiver in Priss' tone.  *Subject
exhibiting self-doubt 89% probable.*

***

After the fight with Priss I realized just how vulnerable in I fight I
really was.  I needed to do something; anything to fix that but without a
connection to the outside world I couldn't download combat software and it
was unlikely despite the thawing attitudes that I would be given access to
do so anytime in the near future.  Amusingly it was gaming that finally
offered a solution.

Tekken has come a long way since my youth.  The battlefields incredibly
detailed, characters modeled true to life with bone, sinew and muscle and
the best part, their motions and fighting styles taken from real life
practitioners of martial arts.

It took a little convincing but after Nene had thrashed me for the
umpteenth time I convinced her to cobble together a direct interface for me
to use in place of a controller.  I think it was the technical challenge as
much as my pleading that did it but that night when she went home I went to
work.

>From the multitude of styles only two were modeled on characters whose body
types were close enough I could use them.  Learning all the movements
perfectly was a matter of moments; implementation was going to be the issue.
The last thing I wanted to do was try to download the game's fighting AI
and somehow run it in my head.

So, after a half hour of work I looked like a master in wushu and jujutsu,
at least when doing kata.  Learning how to actually fight would take
work.  Thankfully
I had a perfectly good simulator right here and a selection of 32 opponents
to teach me when to duck.

***

After the great revelation the days when Lina arrived for private aerobics
became my favorites.  There was something about getting them all in a room
that put me at ease.  It fulfilled some subliminal need for socialization
and with each repetition I realized how much I missed it when they were
gone.

Sylia no longer appeared to have any concerns over my behavior, but then
she had never exhibited them before.  The only true change was that she
used my name instead of my designation.  That was the complete opposite of
Nene.  Our friendship was back, and even growing stronger with the younger?
woman happy to talk about her day at work or whatever she had been doing
lately.

As if in deliberate contrast Priss became even more prickly.  She no longer
ignored me, but actively went out of her way to try and antagonize me.  Knowing
that the most annoying thing I could do is pretend not to notice it almost
became a game with her trying to taunt me into some kind of 'slip' while I
became the model prisoner whenever she was around.

Only my relationship with Linna remained the same.  We were familiar with
each other, but didn't know enough to get closer.  She maintained some of
Priss' distrust but tried to get over it only to find herself having
trouble relating to the me behind the mask.

Meeting Mackey was a bit of a surprise.  I knew he existed from snippets of
conversation but catching a teen boy sneak into your room an night to
install a hidden camera doesn't give the best first impression.  Neither
does trying to subtly ask, "You're sure there aren't any needs I could help
fill for you?"  Yes I'm a robot built for sex, and it was both flattering
and oddly nice to be vindicated by his desire to peep on me but seriously…
get a life.

As the weeks continued to pass even Priss began to forget why she was so
upset with me.  I changed from enemy to rival in her mind as we both pushed
each other as much as we dared.

In all I changed from a boomer to woman, from dangerous prisoner to
unfortunate detainee.  So why confinement began to grate upon me more and
more each day I couldn't say.  Only that I could feel my mood settling into
disturbing patterns of euphoria and depression.

Throughout this my privileges were slowly increasing, more choice in
clothing, movies, games, and books, but always Sylia was careful to keep my
contact with the world outside cut.  I was always one step removed from
real life and I realized it one day as Nene described how a co-worker and
she got caught in a rainstorm at lunch.

I wasn't living anymore.  I was just coasting from one meeting with the
Knight Sabers to the next.  All my thoughts focused on that next social
'fix'.  I could feel the dependency growing, feel myself slipping further
into the grasp of programing and instincts that weren't me.

My helplessness wore away at me.

I couldn't just accept it.  No matter that things were getting better.  That
I could move about more, that they gave me things to do to keep me occupied
I couldn't just live my life as a 10 to 2 friend, Monday Wednesday, Friday
and alternating Saturdays.  Something intrinsic to my being wanted to be
free.   Even when Priss started to use my name instead of "it" I couldn't
stay here.

I wanted to fully live again.  To have a chance to be me, one that I didn't
think I would ever have if I remained here, locked away and so I began
planning and looking for a chance to escape.

***

There was some kind of emergency, all of the Knight Sabers scrambling to
respond.  It had something to do with Dr. Raven and a motorcycle gang but
the details weren't important.  That just this once Nene was careless
rushing off to suit up was.

She remembered to take her laptop with her, but forgot to disable the
network connection in the wall.  A steady green LED winking at me showed it
was still active.

And it if was still active then I finally had a way out.

Hacking a security system designed by Nene didn't even cross my mind.  I
settled for a much simpler solution.  I tripped the entire building's fire
alarm.  It was a gamble, a big one but I was growing desperate, and even if
it didn't work I no longer believed they would execute me for the attempt.

As the emergency lighting kicked in there was a light click and the
powerful magnetic lock on the emergency stairs disengaged and pushing it
wide I was free, sort of.  If I took another step there was no going back.

I looked down at my wrist, of course it was a tracking device, but it was
also plugged directly into my maintenance port.  I could feel the soft
pulse of data circulating as it reached deeply through my repaired and
operational maintenance port.  I still didn't know everything it was
responsible for.

So I was understandably nervous as I tore it free and tossed it aside.  A
pulse from the bracelet rushed over suddenly active wireless receivers
almost stunning me by its intensity.  The feeling strange after so long
going without.  I almost missed the whirr as the door began to shut, but a
hopping jump and I was through.  Sprinting up three flights of stairs I
paused at the final door to freedom.

Could I do it, was anything holding me back? Nene, Sylia, no.  This breach
of trust hurt but the feel of sunlight on bare skin washed away those
feelings of guilt.  "I was free at last."
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