"But-Max-saw-the-cat-and-went-buh-bur-"
FI88 halted at the word.
"Ber-serk." Cybersix supplied gently.
"What it mean?" He looked at the cyber
sitting next to him.
"Max is a dog, right?"
"Yes."
"Dogs don't like cats, right?"
"Yes. Is funny." He grinned, "I saw dog
chase cat. Cat is fast."
"They sure are, aren't they? Berserk is
another word for his being very excited and angry, and he is going to do
a silly thing because he is angry and excited at the same time."
The Fixed Idea glanced down at the drawing
he'd made. It showed four boys on skateboards, tied together, being pulled
by a dog, "But Max is pulling train of boys."
"Right." Cybersix smiled in anticipation.
"What will hap-" the Fixed idea started,
then looked sheepish, "Oh, read."
"Riiiight!"
As she usually did when she got to this
section, Cybersix finished the lesson early in order to spare her eardrums
from the laughing of a Fixed Idea when they got to the description of Max's
mad chase of the cat and its aftermath. FI-88 staggered down the hall,
still laughing. She wondered how long HE would go. The record was held
by FI-318, who went for 16 and a half minutes.
She sighed as she checked the condition
of the book before carefully putting it away. She'd have to get a type
in America to send her another copy, which might be difficult given that
it was out of print. She was reluctant to make another visit to Meridiana
to try and find a replacement that was as effective as this one. The author
knew how to pace her story, and so gave a perfect mix of demanding work
and rewarding humor for a Fixed Idea who decided to learn to read. The
FIs felt that reading MIGHT be worthwhile, but reading a good book like
"The Dragon that ate Summer" confirmed that feeling and gave them an incentive
to work harder. Once they "fixed" on the idea of learning to read, their
progress was astonishing.
An equally difficult problem was deciding
which type to ask. She had to be careful not to pick the same one twice,
or the others would get jealous. Couldn't have that. Success depended on
cooperation and friendly competition, not envy or oneupmanship. At the
same time, the lucky type would have to actually succeed in finding the
book, or else they'd get jeered for their failure by the others.
She got up, stretched, and went to the
window.
The compound was immense, consisting of
factories, dormitories, training facilities, gardens, farms, and laboratories,
laid out in neat rows and linked by gravel paths packed down by long usage.
Huge steam generators on the surrounding hills, around the perimeter and
spaced evenly throughout the grounds belched steam into the air that shrouded
the compound at all times. It not only served to block the sun, but also
shielded the compound from detection by photo-taking satellites. This being
the Amazonian jungle, the steam further raised the humidity, forcing everyone
to wear light clothing. She wore her usual short white sundress and sandals.
Spartan wear for spartan living.
She glanced down and smiled as she saw
FI-88 recount what he had read to a small group of FIs and technos. They
listened politely, laughed, and patted him on the back (or as close to
it as they could reach), congratulating him. One of the technos glanced
up, saw her, and gave a quick wave and a smile. She nodded and waved back.
A figure with wings dropped out of the
billowing steam clouds, looped twice in an exuberant celebration of life,
then began a low patrolling run around the perimeter of the compound, catching
Cybersix's eye.
"Oh, if I could only fly." Cybersix sighed,
envying Cyberdragon's abilities. Cyberdragon had come such a long way from
the horribly burned and disfigured orphan that a type in a social services
office in a minor city had sent to the compound. Father had been unable
to do better than replace skin with scales. Bitterness at her condition
did not disappear like the pain of the burns, and it was difficult to handle
her open anger with him. There were many times when Cybersix almost lost
her patience and wanted to belt the ungrateful child across the room, only
to be stopped by a warning glance from him or a techno who was more calm
and objective than she. Happily, the addition of the wings that allowed
Cyberdragon to fly had been inspired, and when they got strong enough for
her to fly, her bitterness began to drain away as she trained and lengthened
her flying time. When a sharp rise in accidents among the Fixed Ideas was
traced back to them forgetting their tasks in order to watch her fly in
typical, fixated awe, she came to realize that she was loved and respected
here. One would have thought she was a Special born from the tank instead
of an outsider, given the way she fiercely protected her new home.
"Uh oh, there's bad news." Cybersix muttered
when she caught sight of Jose stomping his way to the building, muscling
FI-88 aside and not bothering to hear his story. She turned from the window,
grabbed her literature books, and headed for her classroom.
"CYBERSIX!"
"Oh CRAP!" she thought irritatedly.
"I've got class in a few minutes, Jose." She said aloud, still heading
for her classroom, hoping the brat would buzz off and persecute someone
else.
"Father wants to see you immediately!"
Jose snickered, "Maybe he'll give you something important to do now, rather
than teach Shakeyspeare to technos and Fixed Ideas!"
"Little monster." Cybersix bit her
lip, her delight at being called squashed by Jose's callous sarcasm. "On
my way," she said. After writing a quick note on the chalkboard, she dropped
her books off at her office and headed across the compound to the main
residence, making a detour through the garden to calm herself. She was
determined not to spoil whatever special moments she'd have with her father
with Jose's exasperating attitude on her mind, "Oh well, even God couldn't
keep the snake out of Paradise, so the legend goes." she thought.
She stopped and smelled at a particularly
fragrant and colorful jungle orchid when the mud under her feet came alive
and ran up her legs, "TERRA!" Cybersix gasped when it reached a bit too
high, "NOT THERE!"
Terra's jovial face appeared and he laughed
as he wrapped Cybersix in his unique version of a hug, "Has Cybersix come
to help Terra with the garden?" he asked her.
"I'd love to, but father's called me."
She replied, smiling. A Terra hug was a special treat: Like a bath in warm
mud with none of the mess. She'd probably have a dream about this moment
tonight, with a few details altered. She always did. She always woke up
red as a beet and thankful nobody else in the dorm room could read minds…
"Ohhh, that is important." He unwrapped
himself from her and formed into a crude mud-man, "Is father okay?" he
asked with concern, joining her in her walk.
She looked pensive, "I don't know. I hope
so."
"Terra hope so too. He is very old."
"Not as old as you."
"Terra is old, yes, but young too." He
paused, then said quickly, "Terra want to learn to read. Same way, like
everyone else."
She blinked. This was totally unexpected,
but a welcome opening, "It's hard work doing it the way everyone else must."
She stopped to look at him, "Especially with your gift for absorbing knowledge
from others." She held her palms outward in a gesture of complete willingness,
"Please learn it in your own unique way."
Terra shook his head sadly, "Terra does
not want to hurt sister."
"I'm a cyber. I'm tough enough to handle
the side effects, dear brother." She said softly, running her hand down
the side of his face, "It would be worth it to me to give you the joy the
others have when they read. It would make me very happy." she said truthfully.
He looked very reluctant, putting his hand
on hers, burying it in moist softness, "Go to father. Must not keep father
waiting."
"Please, think about it, Terra." She said,
"Bye."
"Bye. Say hello to father for me."
"I will."
"Terra would like that." He said, dissolving
into the ground.
Cybersix sighed. Everyone had their opinion
as to who would best replace father, and Terra came up a surprising number
of times as third or fourth best choice, provided that he "got with the
program." Of course, talk about replacing him was done at the same time
spooky ghost stories were told around the occasional campfire, and was
usually done to arouse the same creepy feelings.
The main residence was next to the garden,
with the front entrance facing it. She walked up the steps and crossed
the wide, wrap-around porch, smiling at the unbidden memories. When
the numbers were down enough at the compound, everyone would gather on
the porch to share a simple lunch, including their parents.
A stunning, delicate woman with white hair
reaching to her waist was standing just inside the screen door, looking
out over the garden, a look of worry on her still beautiful face.
"Mama, is everything all right?" Cybersix
asked her, concerned.
Maria's green eyes turned to Cybersix,
"Ohhhh, I don't know, Six. I keep telling him to slow down more, but he
just keeps pushing himself until he drops exhausted." She smiled sadly,
then held her arms out. Cybersix embraced her, the love welling up inside
her forcing a couple of tears past her tightly shut eyes. "I'll never
understand why I cry when I'm happy. She thought to herself.
Maria held her a few seconds longer than
normal, then released her, "He's in the upper office. Tell him to slow
down, will you?"
"As if he'll listen to me sooner than you?"
Cybersix rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes to prevent tracking dirt
into the jewel of the compound.
"Just try for me, please?"
"Of course, mama, but I can't promise anything."
She ran up the stairs but took her time
walking down the hall. The feel of the thick, velvety red carpeting
between her bare toes was another rare treat to be enjoyed when opportunity
arose.
A blonde with chin length hair stood by
the door.. She wore a short grey shirt with long sleeves that was high
enough to show off her abdomen and snug enough to show off her curves.
Black cargo pants, too big for her petite frame were held up by a thick
belt with a silver buckle that hung low, below her navel, on her hips.
The cargo pants were stuffed into highly polished black combat boots.
"Hi Six." She gazed solemnly at her sister.
"Hi Quaren."
Quaren looked at her in irritation, "To
YOU, I'm still Seven! Got a problem with that?"
"No ma'am!" she reached for the door. When
father had muttered something about exploring a second stage of evolution
for the cybers in the presence of some Technos, most of the cybers had
secretly competed for the privilege to volunteer. Despite her small size,
Seven beat them all with sheer grit and determination. The experiment would
never be repeated because the process suddenly became too painful halfway
through, and there was no turning back. There'd only be one Evolved Cyber,
so Quaren still clung to her closest siblings, even though she was technically
now a Special.
Quaren grabbed her slim wrist, "Uh uhh."
"But Jose said that…"
"Not without the secret sign!" Quaren said
roughly, her eyes betraying her tough exterior.
"Oh, how forgetful of me!"
After the hug and mutual kiss on the right
cheek that served as the "secret sign" of the cybers, Cybersix looked at
Quaren soberly, "Ummm, how's father doing?" she whispered.
"I'm not deaf!" the voice came from the
other side of the door.
Quaren and Cybersix looked at each other
with wide eyes and chagrined looks.
"Quaren! Is that Cybersix?" the voice asked
with a tone of patience being sorely tried.
"Yes, Father!" Quaren said into the air,
rising and dropping on her toes in mock nervousness, rolling her eyes.
"Come in dear!" it invited.
"Nothing wrong with his hearing." Quaren
answered Cybersix's question, eyebrows arching.
"Or anything else!" The owner of the voice
was clearly exasperated.
"Yessss Father!" Quaren looked up at the
ceiling.
"Such excitement!" Cybersix jabbed her
with her elbow while opening the door.
"You don't know the half of it!"
Von Richter was sitting in his chair in
front of the communications console. Cybersix glided across the floor and
sat down on the floor next to his chair, tucking her feet under herself.
She slid her hand across his lap to take his gnarled hand in hers. She
squeezed it, the sensation of thin skin filling her mind.
He lifted his other hand to put it on her
head, "Well, how are the reading lessons going?" he asked, slowly stroking
the short hair that stuck out at the back of her head.
"Wonderfully father. I'll have to order
another book soon, for the copy we have is pretty worn out. Any idea of
who to ask?"
Von Richter thought a moment, "I suppose
the school superintendent in Phoenix needs a lift." He said quietly, "The
teacher's union is giving him fits about instituting the Modified Phonics
lesson plan you developed. He's got connections. I forget his number, but
you can use the computer to look it up."
"Phoenix, School superintendent." Cybersix
murmured to herself, fixing it into her mind, "Oh, Terra says hello."
"He can come in here and say it himself
any time he wants to." Von Richter said somewhat irritably, "You'd think
he'd be over it by now!"
"He isn't." she said aloud. "And can
you blame him?" she thought, "You insisted on doing his initial
training yourself, and wouldn't let anybody else volunteer, and you nearly
died. We were lucky that Type-728 was home for vacation from his job at
Walter Reed, and was able to revive you." Aloud, she said, "He wants
to learn to read, like everyone else."
"What a waste." Von Richter sighed, "He's
the potential repository for the world's wisdom, and he won't train to
absorb knowledge and skills from our planet's human treasures without draining
their life energy or hurting them. We'd never lose any knowledge or skill
to death again."
"I offered myself to him, father. He wouldn't
hear of it. He can't bear to cause pain."
"Hmm. Maybe if I talked to him…" he thought,
then glanced down at his arm.
Her eyes followed his to the blue tattoo
on the upper part of his left forearm. A string of numbers. The only act
of defiance ever done by each member of Von Richter's immense family, save
mama and Jose, was to tattoo their names and numbers on the same place
when they "came of age". He hated the practice, but all of his threats
and orders just couldn't stop it. Cybersix remembered the thrill of the
forbidden before getting it, and the feeling of connectedness with him
when it was done.
"Ummm, no." he shook his head at a distant,
ugly memory, "We would do well to share his reluctance."
She laid her head on his lap and closed
her eyes. He patted her hair slowly, as if enjoying the feel of her glossy
hair in his hand. At least she hoped so. For this single moment, everything
was wonderful and right in her world.
Von Richter sighed, "You've done well,
my dear cyber. I wish my programming could be better, so your services
wouldn't be required."
"I enjoy teaching, father." Her heart leaped
at hearing his approval.
"That you do." He smiled, "Sending you
out in the field would have been a waste of your true talents. You finished
near the top if I remember correctly."
She smiled bitterly at the compliment.
Her Cyber brothers and sisters were scattered throughout the armies of
the minor nations of the world, serving as privates and non-commissioned
officers, watching for human rights violations and stepping in to prevent
atrocities. The eleven who had gotten into Milosovic's Serbian army had
saved thousands. Twenty nine was the only one caught. He had been hanged
as a traitor when it was discovered that he had managed to spirit away
an entire orphanage from right under the noses of two army divisions. Contrary
to Von Richter's orders that cybers were permitted to use their strength
and skills to save themselves if caught, twenty nine had obviously decided
to submit rather than escape. It was concluded that he did so to allay
suspicions and prevent the Serbian army from starting a search to purge
his siblings. The technos and types had relatively safe jobs, but the cybers
were charged to stand between the sword and the innocent. Standing next
to the rough-hewn empty coffin at the memorial service, Cybersix wept long
and hard over the loss of her brother and dear childhood friend, and had
agonized for days over not being out there with her brothers and sisters.
Only the joy that her students experienced while discovering the treasures
of literature under her tutelage eventually brought her out of her deep
depression.
"Well, it seems we have problems in Meridiana."
Von Richter sighed.
"Father, please slow down and let someone
else worry about the world." Cybersix murmured softly, squeezing his hand,
"Type 18 or 37 would be i-"
"I AM PERFECTLY FINE!" Von Richter interrupted
loudly. He looked at her, frustrated, "You all are making too much of a
fuss over me! Trying to get me to Slow Down. To Take It Easy. To Watch
Your Blood Pressure. Tiptoeing around me as if I had a foot in the grave
already! And the Technos!" He waved his hand irritably in the general direction
of the laboratories, "Are they sticking to the program for discovering
a cure for cancer or AIDS? NOOO! They're working on geriatric medicines!
Like VIAGRA! Can ANYONE tell me what the HELL were they thinking when they
came up with VIAGRA??!?? Marryn wouldn't have allowed such nonsense for
a second!"
Cybersix started to giggle despite her
strenuous efforts to keep a straight face, "Better ask mama about THAT
one!"
"Hmmm! I just might!" he muttered, "Where
were we?"
"We were talking about letting type 18
or 37 take over the day to d-"
"No, we weren't!" he interrupted again,
"That was a rhetorical question, and you know it!"
"Yes, father." She sighed. At least she'd
tried, "We have problems in Meridiana." She recited dutifully.
"We sure do! And speaking of the devil,
type 37's been kidnapped by Cornazon."
"What?" Cybersix gasped.
Type 37 had been appointed the Meridiana
Police Chief by the mayor, and had proceeded to clean out and shape up
the force into something closely resembling the finest outfit in South
America, if not in the Western Hemisphere. 37 had theorized that young
thugs start off robbing the underprotected poor, and then moved up to the
more respectable and better protected victims when they felt confident
enough or got a bit more greedy. Consequently he re-targeted the efforts
of the police after purging the bad apples. Coupled with a reallocation
of judicial resources to expedite the cases proved very successful in Meridiana
and elsewhere. By leveraging the "us against them" mentality prevalent
among the lower classes in Meridiana, it came about that there was no glamor
and much shame in being caught robbing a homeless person or prostitute.
The papers continually boasted about this or that Yankee delegation coming
in to ask questions and get advice on solving their problems. Everyone
knew 37! He fussed continually about his weight and being bald, and so
had developed an incredible sense of humor to cope. He always came for
Christmas vacation back to the compound. And you'd be sorry if you missed
the evening meal on the second night of his arrival when, over cigars and
fine wine, he'd trot out fresh cracks about large noses and old farts,
and Von Richter would retaliate with equally fresh and appropriate comments
about fatties and baldies. Then they'd compete to see who had the worst
job by commenting on their underlings and the various mishaps that had
occurred that past year, in which everyone else, save mama, was not spared.
All in good fun, of course. Christmas without 37 was. Just. Simply. Unthinkable.
Cornazon was a notorious drug lord that
had fabricated a reputation of himself of being a modern day Robin Hood,
winning the support of the poor and homeless in Meridiana to better grease
the wheels of his drug trafficking. That is, until their contact in Meridiana,
Dr. Anthony Zacharias, had used his considerable reputation to add up the
numbers and demonstrate the fact that Cornazon was keeping 90% of his gains
for himself, instead of giving it to the poor as he had boasted. Apparently,
the math skills of the poor improved immensely when the numbers happened
to be expressed in terms of currency. Everyone thought Cornazon had been
bested when a hit squad sent against Dr. Zacharias had run up against the
formidable defenses of his townhouse, and had counted themselves lucky
to have barely survived the encounter. In retaliation, 37 sprang a surprise
raid that had involved careful investigation and detective work for months,
rounding up various street dealers, middle men, and a couple of Cornazon's
lieutenants. Even the two judges that Cornazon had bribed as insurance
against such an eventuality were arrested, bringing in the national government
and three temporary outside judges to conduct the trials. The compound
had been so giddy with happiness, they'd served cake for supper in celebration.
"I told him to watch his back, but no,
he wouldn't take my warning!" Von Richter complained.
"Well, look who's talking!" Cybersix couldn't
help herself.
"Hmph! Well, *I* have enough sense to allow
Quaren to stand outside my door!" Von Richter returned, "Not that I have
any choice about THAT, but he's got a whole police force to choose from!"
"Hmm. Isn't kidnapping a rather unusual
move for Cornazon?"
"He wants his cronies freed in exchange
for 37. Of course, we know what's the value of HIS word!"
"He might be dead already!" Cybersix bit
her lip.
"Happily, no. They're sending photos of
him reading the daily newspaper to prove he's still alive. Cornazon's trying
to salvage his reputation. He and 37 swapped places on those popularity
polls of the poor and homeless run by the Independent, so he's got
to be careful and make it look like an accident."
"Whew! Well, he's got to be rescured, then!"
"Right. Pick a squad of Specials to help
you and bring him back alive."
"ME!??" Cybersix was shocked, "Quaren's
the tactical genius! Send her!"
"THAT statue?" He waved at the door, "She
was my first choice, of course, but she refuses to budge an inch from guarding
that door as if my life depended on it. All the other cybers are either
out in the field, in transit, or needed here. This is simply not the job
for a Techno, and the Fixed Ideas wouldn't know what to do, bless them.
Besides, you scored third in tactics, and…" He stopped and looked a bit
pained.
"Twenty nine was second, but he's not
here." she completed the sentence in her mind, "What are the other
problems in Meridiana?" she asked aloud.
"Hmm, a biology teacher and reporter for
the Independent by the name of Lucas Amato has been investigating
and reporting on genetically enhanced humans. The articles have that typical
focus on lurid speculations and doomsday scenarios calculated to boost
circulation, although he doesn't have any solid evidence. Yet. We can't
stop him, of course, but we can try winning him over like we did with Tony.
He's a coworker of Tony's, who's been working with Kayla to get you assigned
there with the right credentials. Befriend Mr. Amato if you can, figure
out the kind of man he is, see where he's headed, and win him over if possible.
Check in with Kayla to get details on your cover. She'll have something
on Cornazon's location too."
Leave the compound? The rescue raid would
only take a short time, but the Amato assignment might last for months!
"My students…" she started to protest.
"Will understand once I break the bad news.
Please Six, you ARE the best choice." Von Richter clasped his other hand
around hers, holding it between his cool, worn, gnarled fingers, "The Specials
don't have your specialized training, and with you in charge, the chances
of them being harmed would be far less than if they went alone. Tactics
just isn't Kayla's strength, so other than Quaren, I honestly don't think
anyone else would have a better chance of succeeding in the rescue mission."
He smiled a bit at the sour look she gave him, "As for Amato, you were
my first choice anyway."
"What if he doesn't want to join us?" She
was starting to dislike the man for pulling her away from home.
"I'll worry about that when it happens,"
He smiled a little evilly, "I'd worry less if you were doing it, you know."
Cybersix pictured Quaren employing her
unique brand of "recruiting" tactics. The picture of her holding a man
over the edge of a building and shaking him like a rag doll to drive some
sense into his head somehow came to mind….
"Ohhh, if it keeps you from worrying, then
I'll be pleased to do it, father," She got up and planted a kiss on his
cheek, "I'd better get going. I love you."
"Thank you dear. I love you too. Please
be careful, okay?"
