Do Androids Dream Of Electronic Tickles? - Part 6 (Non-Tickling, Adult)

Link to Part 5

Author's note: Just to let you know, this chunk contains no, repeat, no tickling and is bleedin' long. If you're new to this story I suggest you go read them in order, as this is going to make as much sense as a drunk Welshman with a speech impediment otherwise. For those of you that are following this tale, can I put in an extra-big grovel for feedback please? Once I've finished this version I'm planning on doing a slightly less tickle-centric version and flesh out the characters a bit, then see what a couple of editors I know think about it, so any and all feedback would be welcome. Thanks.

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Part 6

The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains and fell diagonally across the bed, caressing Fiona’s sleeping form and ending just short of the bank of computer equipment that lined one wall. Slumped in a chair on the other side of the room, Steve watched Fiona sleep peacefully as he wondered what on earth he’d been thinking last night. This was one of the most desirable women he’d ever seen, someone who seemed to make everything else in the room dim whenever she walked in, someone he’d dreamt of holding in his arms from the first time he’d seen her. And yet…

His musings were interrupted by a familiar burbling sound from the driveway and he moved out into the hallway, pausing only to pull on a t-shirt as he headed for the front door. Listening carefully he waited until the footsteps reached his front door, added a second or so for his guest to reach up to knock and pulled the door open. Tim was left with one arm raised, tapping at empty air as Steve stepped back to let him in the flat. One look at his face was all Tim needed to know something was up.

“Morning, and by the way, you look like death.” Tim said, putting as much cheer as he could into his voice. “What happened, you two spend all night testing the lifetime warranty on your mattress or what?”

“Oh very funny, keep this up and I’ll start serving you decaf when you pull this I’m-a-morning-person-honest act.”

Tim raised his hands, a look of horror on his face. “No, please, anything but decaf, you win oh evil genius, I’ll behave. Umm, speaking of coffee I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a mug or twelve is there?”

Steve grinned as he felt the familiarity of routine relaxing his body and easing his mind. “Tell you what, I’ll brew up and fill you in on the gossip, then we can go over the seriously weird shit that happened when we’re a bit more awake.”

“Sounds like a plan, lead on McDuff.” Tim said, throwing in a theatrical sweep of his arm in the direction of the kitchen. As usual the coffee machine was already set up and Steve flicked the switch on as they walked past before swinging a leg over a stool at the breakfast bar. Tim followed him, grabbing a cereal bar as he went past an open cupboard, and pulled a stool out for himself, leaning against the wooden surface on his left elbow as he talked.

“So, what happened last night between you and your, ummm, ‘client’?” Tim asked, throwing in a set of finger quotes around client just to annoy his friend.

“Nothing. Well, in the end nothing anyway.” Steve said, replaying the scene in his mind.

“Okay, that made about as much sense as a politician on speed, want to try that again?”

“I’ll give you the details in a bit, but something went seriously wrong with that recording. We had some, let’s say, difficulties getting out of the sim, and when we did the psychological shock was pretty heavy.”

“With you so far.”

“Well, we were lying on the floor and she rolled over and kissed me. One thing lead to another and we ended up in bed.”

“I see no problem here. In fact the first response that springs to mind is ‘you jammy bastard’. So why the long face?”

“This is going to sound stupid, but I think I had a sudden attack of conscience, like I realised she wasn’t doing it because she wanted me, not really anyway. That it was more a physical reaction to what she’d been through and, oh how to put this… I don’t want to take advantage of her like that, no matter how good it may have been.”

“You’re right, that does sound stupid. On the other hand, it also sounds like the sort of moral sensibility I’ve come to expect and, on occasion, despair of from you. She handle it okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly, I think she understood. Didn’t kick my ass at least, so that’s got to be a good sign, right?”

“I’d think so, yes. Hmm, maybe the two of you really are suited to each other after all if you both let your morals get in the way of a night of passion.” Tim said, grinning as he turned and headed for the coffee machine. “Now tell me the bad part, what happened in the sim?”

As Steve started to tell Tim the tale of the previous night’s VR experience, the smell of fresh coffee started to spread through the flat, quickly reaching the bedroom. Fiona twitched as she inhaled the aroma and gradually opened her eyes, looking around the room that, in the golden glow of dawn, looked almost homely. She lay still for a while, reflecting on Steve’s reactions the previous night, the visible struggle as he’d overruled his physical desire and given her the sweetest rejection she’d ever experienced. A frown crossed her face as she realised she’d actually been slightly relieved at that, and wondered if, despite the disappointment she’d felt and hidden at the time, it hadn’t been the right call after all.

She heard the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen and fought a loosing battle between a desire to stay wrapped in the warm bed sheets and finding the source of the aroma that kept tantalising her senses. Reluctantly she swung her legs out of bed and stood, stretching her hands high above her, twisting her waist to work out any kinks sleeping in a strange bed might have brought on. She dressed quickly, pulling her jeans on and sliding her t-shirt over her head, and had a hand on the door handle when she paused, a truly wicked grin sliding over her face as an idea bloomed in her mind.

“…so I managed to throw one of them into the guy and it seemed to distract him long enough for Fiona to hit the light and get us the hell out of there.” Steve said as he finished the ten-minute version of the night’s adventures. “I’ve don’t know how it happened, the only idea I can come up with seems ridiculous, but…” he trailed off as he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and turned to face the door, the greeting dying on his lips as Fiona stepped into view.

She was wearing one of his old Metallica t-shirts, faded black cotton with enough rips in the material to show it had been in more than one mosh pit. The hem fell to what could be generously called mid-thigh, and aside from her smile she wore nothing else. Her hair fell freely over her shoulders, framing a face that practically shone as she turned every once of charm and sexuality she had in his direction. “Good morning, I hope you don’t mind me borrowing this, I just fancied something a little looser for a while than jeans and t-shirt.” She said as she practically glided over the kitchen floor towards the two men, both of whom were trying their best not to stare, with little success.

“Umm, no, no that’s fine, though I’m sure there’s something a little newer and cleaner in there if you’d rather.” Steve stammered.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind dirty.” She said, virtually purring the last word as she slid past him and down onto the end stool, her legs crossed daintily as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Tim was trying not to laugh as he saw Steve’s eyes almost cross from the effort not to react too obviously to the heavenly creature breathing in his ear. “So, you guys talking about last night?” Fiona asked, running her hands slowly up Steve’s back, teasing him with the thought of what he’d missed out on.

“Umm, yeah, Steve was just telling me about that sim you guys ran, sounded nasty.” Tim said, noticing that whatever was being done to his friend it seemed to have removed his ability to speak.

“Oh, well, if we’re going to talk business, I suppose I’d better look the part.” Fiona sighed, running her fingers through the short hair at the back of Steve’s neck and on down his spine. “I hope he didn’t mention all the details?”

“Perfect gentleman.”

Fiona grinned, placed her feet flat on the ground and swung around Steve to sit on his lap, bringing her left leg up and over to straddle him for an instant. “What more could a woman ask for?” she said, leaning in and kissing him softly, tenderly for a second, before pulling away and heading back to the bedroom. “I’ll be right back guys.”

For a moment both the men stared at each other, still reeling from the cluster bomb of sensuality that had just walked out the room until Tim raised his cup in salute. “You know, maybe there’s something to this moral thing after all.”

Thirty minutes later they were all gathered in the living room, a pile of papers scattered over the coffee table as the discussed their next steps.

“Well, while I didn’t have as much fun as you guys did last night, I did come up with some useful stuff.” Tim said, reaching for the coffee pot that was now sitting on the sideboard. “Had a look through that data Nick got you, seems there’s one guy who’s been buying up a lot of that kit in the last few weeks, heavy duty too, like something major was going to go down, but as we’ve heard of no nig computer crime recently I’d say it was worth checking out.”

“Wait, how did you get that stuff?” Fiona asked. “Steve never had time to give you a copy before we had to get out of that place.”

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but Steve cut across him. “It fell out of my pocket as we went through the window, Tim grabbed it and we had more important things to do than swap it back.”

Tim stared for a second at him, and then shook his head. “One of these days, I’m gonna manage to get something by you. As it happens it seems to have worked out for the best. Now there’s no indication of who the guy is, but I had a word with some of my contacts and they’re going to do a little digging for me. I’m meeting them tonight over in docklands for the transfer.”

“How much?” Steve asked.

“Two five, more than I’d like, but hey, if it gets the job done I ain’t complaining, figure the day it’ll save us is worth that much.”

”Yeah, you’re probably right on that, besides we’ve got a bigger problem.” Steve replied. “I’ve been thinking about last night and I’ve only got one explanation as to how it could have happened. Only problem is, it’s impossible.”

“Okay, I’ve heard worse. Run it past us and we’ll see if we can spot a problem.” Tim said, sitting back in his chair.

“Right, a couple of assumptions first though. One, whatever this thing was, it isn’t a fire and forget program. Can’t be if it can override the settings of a simulation like that, it would need at the very least someone guiding it in the real world to pull something like that.”

“Two, it can’t be an AI, least not in the normal sense of the word. That program was just like any normal program when we started running the sim, it only changed part-way through and you simply can’t hide an AI like that.”

Tim nodded “Seems fine so far, carry on.”

“Well, the only way I can think of for whatever that was to do what we saw, is if it came in some other way, and the only connection to that machine was the power line.”

Tim stared in disbelief for a moment. “Have you gone completely insane? You’re trying to tell me you think someone hacked your system by sending data, a lot of data at that, over the power line, into your computer than somehow went from the power supply to your simulation?”

“I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but the theory’s sound when you think about it. We’ve had data transmissions over power lines for, what fifteen years now? And if you can send data into a power supply, why not on to the processor, and from there modify the logic gates directly?”

“Look, there’s no way you can transmit enough data to modify a sim on the fly in real time using a hack like that. Just to be able to reach the processor and change one logic gate would be a miracle of biblical proportions, and not even the almighty herself could pull off what you’re describing. It’s nuts, plain and simple!”

“Less nuts than everything else that’s happened in the last few days?” Steve asked, and Tim fell silent as he thought that one through.

“Hmmm, as much as I don’t want to admit it, you may have a point there. Okay, so let’s assume for a moment that you haven’t taken leave of your senses, what exactly do you think we can do about this?”

Steve grinned, knowing he’d won the war, even if there were still a few battles left to fight. “First, we’re going to need to see if I’ve completely lost the plot or not, which means we need to see the electricity graphs for last night.”

“Umm, this might be a stupid question.” Fiona interjected, “but I thought the government had cracked down on that sort of data, something about it being a possible terrorist target?”

Steve and Tim shared a look, but it was Tim that answered. “Yeah, though it’s got nothing to do with terrorists. Group of crackers managed to figure out where and when a big covert information network was working just by tracking the power flow over the city. Turns out they were gathering a lot of info the government was definitely not allowed to collect, at least not legally. Ever since then they’ve been a bit twitchy about what a few bored kids and a laptop can do.” Tim turned slightly to face Steve. “You know the only way we’re going to get that sort of data is to go to the source, right?” Steve simply nodded in reply.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You want to break into a government facility, grab a load of data and somehow get out again, all to prove something that is basically impossible? That’s what you’re saying?”

“Yep, more or less.”

“Fine, when do we leave?”

“We?”

“Yes, we. You don’t think I’m going to let you do this one on your own do you? Besides, I’m faster at splicing than you are, and you’re going to need every second you can get if this is going to work.”

“Thanks, I didn’t want to ask, but I’ll admit I feel a hell of a lot better about this with you watching my back.” Steve replied, realising as he said it just how few people he’d apply that particular sentiment to.

“I hate to break up this heart touching scene of male bonding,” Fiona said, “but if you’re planning on doing this tonight, haven’t you forgotten something?” The two men looked at each other for a moment before the penny dropped.

“Oh hell,” Tim said “I’m supposed to be meeting those guys tonight. How bad do we need that data?”

“Bad.” Steve answered after a moment’s thought. “Even if I’m right, that’s no guarantee they used the same entry method the first time. We need that name.”

“Then I’ll go.” Fiona said, leaning forward as she did so, a newly discovered determination burning in her eyes. “I want this over with just as badly as you two want it stopped, and while I’m not well practiced in breaking and entering, this is something I can do.”

Tim sent a shrug at Steve and sat back in the chair, leaving the decision in his hands. He thought about it for a moment, trying to work out what was going to be the safest option, the realised he really didn’t have much of a choice. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, getting an answering nod from Fiona almost before he’d finished the question.

“Okay, but on one condition. No heroics. Anything looks bad, or you even think something doesn’t seem right, you get the hell out of there, you hear me?”

“I’ll be careful.” She said.

“Which just leaves me with one question.” Tim said, as he finished the last of his coffee in one quick gulp. “How the hell are we going to get inside that place without making enough noise to wake up half of London?”

“Funny you should mention that…” Steve said, turning his gaze towards Fiona.

Continued

The city was cloaked in darkness as the black coupe moved slowly down the street towards the power sub-station, it’s engine barely hovering above a tick-over as it’s driver looked around as if trying to spot some familiar landmark. It turned slightly and nosed its way towards the high wire fence and the single gate that broke the steel barrier. The guard looked up, annoyed at this interruption, reluctantly marking his page before placing the book down and heading out to speak to the obviously lost driver. He made it half way before the door opened and his heart almost stopped beating.

A pair of long, sleek legs reached out to the floor, and the driver swung herself up and into view. A blood red leather jacket hung from her shoulders, covering a skin-tight black t-shirt. Those perfect legs were encased in leather trousers the same deep red as the jacket, a pair of black knee-high boots completing an outfit calculated to have the same effect on the male libido as an iron bar to the head. A mass of blonde hair fell down the woman’s back and right shoulder, framing a face that wore only lipstick that matched the jacket and dark purple eye shadow.

“Excuse me.” The woman said, in a voice that could have made ordering a McDonalds sound like an invitation to come to bed. “I seem to be a little lost. I’m trying to get to Camden, could you point me in the right direction?”

“Su..sure.” the guard stammered, trying hard to present a professional appearance. As he got closer to her he caught a hint of her perfume, a scent designed to bypass all conscious thought and appeal to all the primal desires and urges of the psyche and the effect was immediate as he focused his full attention on this radiant beauty in front of him. “You’re not that far off, just head on down this road, and hang a left and you should see it marked from there.”

As he spoke, the woman moved slightly away from the car, leaning out to look where he was pointing and he noticed the riding crop strapped to her left leg. She glanced back to notice him staring and smiled. “Thanks, it’s been a while since I was this far north of the river, but when the money’s right…” she trailed off, leaving him in no doubt she was here for a very specialist sort of house call to some lucky stiff, probably one of those big shot bankers from the city he thought. Behind him there was a faint clink as of metal touching metal, but right then there could have been a full-scale war breaking out all over London and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Thanks again for the help.” She said, leaning forward and giving him a quick kiss, leaving a spicy taste on his lips as she ducked back into the car. The door glided shut and the car smoothly reversed from the gate and headed off in the direction the guard had indicated, leaving him to walk back to his post wondering if she’d been close enough to be captured on the video camera so he could prove she’d been real when he told this tale to the day shift the next day. As he walked he failed to notice a pair of dark shadows slipping around the corner of the three-floor brick building towards the riverbank.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Tim whispered, his concentration locked on the small black box he had mounted to the keypad beside the fire door.

“Just because it’s a cliché doesn’t mean it won’t work under the right circumstances.” Steve replied in the same low voice from his crouched position, right hand wrapped around a tazer gun as he kept an eye on the walkway around the edge of the building. There was a faint click from beside him, and Tim ripped the box from the keypad, slipping inside the door, holding it open just long enough for Steve to follow.

Both men were dressed in grey camouflage coveralls, a crosshatch pattern of lighter and darker shades designed to blend in with the background in urban settings. They each wore black masks, simple cotton balaclavas that did an adequate job of disguising their identities, though the visible areas beneath the mask had been altered with the aid of some common items of make-up and contact lenses to prevent any pattern matching if anyone tried to find a match later on.

“I must admit though, I damn near had a heart attack when I saw her in the outfit.” Tim said, checking his hand drawn map as they moved slowly up the stairs to the first floor.

“Hey, let’s be honest here, she could make a potato sack look sexy.” Steve replied, turning right to check the corridor beyond the door through the small glass panel before opening it and moving deeper into the building. “Now let’s keep our mind’s on the job, okay? I have no intention of screwing this one up.”

“Fair enough. Three doors down on the right.”

They entered a long, low room, two rows of benches splitting it into thirds; the glow of computer lights illuminating the darkness. There were no windows here in what was, supposedly anyway, a secure area, only the door they’d come in by and another set of double doors at the far end of the room. Tim turned right towards the long row of computers, reaching into his pack for what looked like an oversized calculator.

“How long?” Steve asked, heading for the main doors and pulling his own toys from a pouch on his thigh.

“Figure about thirty seconds to do the patch, ten to fool the system into thinking this is a licensed terminal, another ten to run the search, maybe two minutes to get the data and, say twenty seconds fudge factor.”

“Three ten? I’m impressed, I’d have thought more like four minutes.”

“Yeah, well, some of us have it, some don’t. Ready?”

Steve finished his work at the doors and started to head back down the room. “Do it.”


About five miles to the southeast Fiona pulled the car into a side street and reversed it into an alley, nose facing outwards just in case she needed to make a quick exit. Sliding out of the driver’s seat she shut the door and armed the alarm before slipping the key into her jacket pocket. She took a quick look around and crossed to what looked like one of a hundred abandoned buildings in this part of London, except this one wasn’t quite as abandoned as it seemed. The wooden planks across the door had been added carefully to give the impression they were there to prevent anyone entering when in fact they were hinged in the same places as the door beneath. It swung open at her touch and Fiona stepped inside and up the narrow staircase.

The first floor of the building was almost empty, windows covered in grime with only the barest dusting of light filtering through from the world outside. At the far end was a table, behind it three figures sat waiting in chairs. She walked the length of the room, and for a moment she felt like she was being summoned before some mysterious ruling council, a notion she dismissed with a wry grin as she reached the table.

Each chair was high backed and curved, coating the occupiers in shadow and allowing only the barest hint of their outline to be seen. Fiona waited patiently, remembering the instructions Tim had given her: wait for them to speak first, be polite and don’t make any sudden moves if at all possible. A hand reached out from the centre chair to a small button set into the table and pressed it, turning on a set of dim lights, casting a dull amber glow over the scene in front of her as she recoiled in horror.

The left and right chairs were occupied, but the people in them were clearly dead, their wrists and ankles tied to the arms of the chairs and a wide red gash across their throat, eyes locked open as they stared into the abyss. The blood was still fresh, pooled around the base of the chairs and running slowly behind them along the concrete floor. As she recovered from the initial shock Fiona realised she knew the man in the centre chair, it was the man Steve had spoken to the night before at the market, Nick. Except he seemed a lot more threatening tonight, mainly due to the pistol he was holding that was pointed straight at her heart.

“Well, I must admit you weren’t quite what I was expecting” Nick said, rising from the chair and moving around the table towards her, his aim never wavering. “Why did he send you I wonder, too much of a coward to come himself?”

Fiona stayed silent, mind racing as she looked for a way out, letting Nick talk in the hope of finding something she could use against him.

“Or did he have something better to do I wonder? Hmm, no matter, this might actually be more satisfying than killing him anyway.” Nick’s left hand shot out and landed a punch hard in her stomach, driving the air from her lungs as she fell to her knees on the floor. “After all, why go straight to the big finish, when I can rip his world apart first?” Fiona felt a cold chill run through her as the metal barrel of the gun was pressed against the back of her head.

”See lass, I’ve never known him to take on a case as, shall we say, enthusiastically as yours. You must really have done a number on him to get that sort of devotion so close to the surface. Still, I can see why he’d lose a certain perspective when dealing with you.” Nick chuckled, a sound without any humour behind it, as he circled her body, the gun never more than a foot from her head as he walked. “You really are a stunner aren’t you? And I’ll bet you know just how to use it too.” He stopped circling in front of her, and she raised her head, locking her gaze on his, radiating defiance. “Hell, I’ve got some time to kill, let’s find out.” Nick grinned, sliding the safety catch onto the gun, slipping it into a holster strapped to his forearm before reaching out and grabbing a handful of hair.

With one swift motion he yanked her to her feet, grabbed her arm and sent her sprawling face first onto the table. He jumped up behind her and dropped a knee onto the small of her back, forcing a scream of pain from her lips as he held her immobile against the wooden surface. With a grunt he slid both arms underneath her body and flipped her over, his hands roaming over her upper body as she struggled to find a weakness she could exploit.

“Tell you what” Nick said, contempt dripping from every word “you give me everything you’ve got, make me believe you want this, and I’ll end it quickly, cleanly. If not, well…” he shrugged and gestured off the ceiling above and behind him “…you could always end up like him.”

Fiona stared, horrified at what she saw. She’d thought that what she’d seen earlier was a bad way to die, now she realised there were far worse ways to go. There must have originally been three people for this meeting, and the third was suspended from a beam on the ceiling by his wrists. A long cut went from his neck to his crotch, and a long string of what had once been his internal organs hung from his body to a small heap on the floor, the contents of which she never wanted to discover. Fiona felt the bile rise in her throat, only for it to be replaced almost immediately by something else as her anger at the events of the last few days seemed to coalesce into this one moment, into a burning fire of rage and power.

She twisted savagely to the right, and for a brief moment Nick was off balance, leaving her right leg free. With a force she never knew she possessed she brought her knee up hard into Nick’s groin, felt something give under the impact as he rolled off her, a high-pitched scream rewarding her efforts as she leapt from the table. Nick rose from the ground with some difficulty, one hand covering his injury, the other pointed at her, and holding the pistol.

Without thinking Fiona took two quick steps to her right and dove behind the chairs as the sharp retort of the gun echoed in the abandoned building. She heard the thud as bullets slammed into the chairs and their deceased occupants, accompanied by the shattering of glass as some of the shots went high and broke the windows behind her. Then silence, broken only by the thud of a pistol being thrown to the ground in frustration as Nick finally managed to straighten up fully, his hands held at loose at his sides as he waited for her to reappear.

Any fear she felt was almost immediately blasted away by a rush of energy as Fiona realised she’d just survived a gun battle armed with nothing more than her own body and wits. Rising from behind the chair she walked forward to a point six foot from Nick and, with a grace and dignity that she would have sworn was beyond her just a few short days ago, she slid into a perfect ready position, balanced on the balls of her feet as she waited.

She didn’t need to wait long as Nick lunged towards her, revenge clearly on his mind. There was no real skill in his attack, just the desire to inflict pain and she saw his right hand flying towards her from so far away it might as well have been moving in slow motion as she ducked gracefully under the punch before firing a quick snap kick to his kidneys as he passed her. There was a grunt of pain as they turned to face each other, and this time it wasn’t coming from her. Her spirits soared as she realised that, unlike Tim and Steve, this man wasn’t a trained fighter, and that meant she had a chance.

This time she pressed the attack herself, moving forwards towards Nick and faking a repeat of her kick towards his right side. As soon as she saw him shift to try and block her blow, she darted to his left, her hand catching him a stinging blow on the cheek and jaw. She spun on her heel and, as he turned to face her, launched a high kick at the exposed right side of his face, the boot catching him square on the nose with a crack that seemed to echo off the walls.

Nick raised a hand to his face and felt blood trickling from his now broken nose and stepped forward with murderous intent. Spreading his arms wide he charged in low and tackled her to the ground. His hands reached for her neck, only to be pushed away as she delivered a stiff-handed thrust to the hollow of his throat, causing him to gag and gasp for breath. Taking advantage of his distraction, Fiona rolled away, planting one hand on the ground as a pivot and swept her legs around, both feet hitting hard in his rib cage. A howl was wrenched from Nick’s body as he felt two of his ribs crumple under the assault and he doubled over for a moment in pain before slowly staggering back to his feet.

Fiona was waiting for him, the empty pistol held in her hand like a cosh, as she swung hard at his head. At the last moment Nick managed to bring a hand up, blocking the shot and locking his hand around her wrist, squeezing her bones as hard as he could. He didn’t quite have the leverage to break anything, but the pain was great enough for her hand to open by reflex, and the pistol dropped towards the ground. Nick grabbed it before it could make it that far and brought it up hard, the butt hitting her in the stomach and knocking her down to her hands and knees, gasping for air.

A second later Nick buried a boot into her side, her gasp of pain muffled by the floor as she rolled away from the blow. Suddenly she found herself slipping in something warm, and she looked down at the floor, only to realise she was kneeling in the oozing river of blood coming from the victims in the chairs. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another blow aimed at her side and she managed to avoid it, rolling away and regaining her feet, hunched over slightly as she held her left arm over her injured side, her eyes locked on Nick.

He too was struggling to stand, blood running from both his nose and mouth, favouring his left side as he stared at her. The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity, then with a roar nick charged her, once again coming in low to tackle her. This time though she was ready for it, as he reached her she leapt forward, over his back, catching him on the back of the head with a boot as she went. The extra momentum shoved him off balance and his shoes squeaked as they tried to find traction on the blood-soaked concrete. Fiona landed hard on her stomach and before she could turn around she heard a short, terrified shriek from behind her. Spinning quickly she saw only an empty room, two trails of footprints visible in the blood trail, which ended at one of the shattered windows.

Moving slowly, cautiously she walked to the closest intact window and looked down. There, twenty feet below was Nick’s crumpled body, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, a dark pool slowly forming underneath him as his lifeblood emptied onto the cold, uncaring street. Fiona stared for a moment, trying to come to grips with what she’d done before the undeniable truth hit home. She’d had no choice, he’d intended to kill her, and she’d defended herself as best she could.

Quickly she headed down the stairs and back to the car, pausing only to use her jacket to wipe the worst of the blood off her clothes before sliding into the passenger seat. She drove out onto the main road and pointed the car back towards the power sub-station, hoping that Steve and Tim had had better luck than her tonight.

Continued

“That’s it, let’s go!” Tim called, grabbing the data pack from the desk and stuffing it back into his pack as they headed for the back door to the lab. “Oh, and for the record, three minutes dead. Damn I’m good.” They’d barely gone five steps when there was a pounding of footsteps from the front corridor and six heavily armed troopers burst through the double doors, red dot sights pointed straight the backs of their heads.

Don’t move! Turn around, slowly, hands up where we can see them!“ the squad leader yelled. Steve and Tim shared a look as they started to turn, with Steve’s eyes flicking downwards and left for the briefest of moments. As he brought his hands up past his thighs Steve brushed his palm against a small, circular disc hanging from his belt, resting his fingertip in the centre of the disc for just a moment before continuing to raise his hands until they were above his head as they faced the troops.

“Stay still and you won’t be hurt.” Came the command as the squad leader raised an arm to wave his troops forward. The arm made it to shoulder height before the doors and half the wall behind them exploded inwards, the shockwave throwing all six troops to the ground and temporarily disorientating them as the small, shaped explosives Steve had placed all went off in perfect unison. As the troops staggered back to their feet, some holding their heads, others looking around groggily for their weapons the two intruders raced through the back door towards the stairwell.

“So it’s the back way out of here then?” Tim yelled just before they burst through the door to the stairs and looked down, only to see another six troopers making their way up the stairs towards them, red dot sights panning through the darkness as they moved.

“Keep those ideas coming!” Steve replied before heading on up the stairs towards the roof. They crashed through the access door at the top of the stairs and headed towards the fire escape bolted to the side of the building. It went from the roof to the front of the building and just as they reached it they saw a police car pull into the drive and disgorge four officers, sidearms drawn.

“Ever get the feeling this is not going to be our night?” Tim asked, as they headed back the way they’d come towards the far side of the building.

“No, why do you ask?” Steve said, ripping the tazer out of it pouch and hurling it into a dark corner of the roof. “Out of curiosity, how’s good are you at flying?”

“Oh great, provided the direction of flight is downwards I’ve got it nailed.”

“That may come in handy in about three seconds from now.”

“Why?”

“Because down’s where we’re headed!” Steve yelled as they jumped into space. The fall seemed to go on forever before they hit the ice-cold water of the Thames, barely clearing the shore on the way down. As the water closed over them they started to swim, heading out into the middle of the river before turning and heading downstream towards the nearest bridge, the current helping them move quickly enough to dodge the searchlights that hit the water behind them.

Gasping for breath they hauled themselves out of the water and onto the stone steps leading up to the street. Unable to take the time to pause and regroup they pounded up the stairs two at a time, turning left on the bridge and running north, heading for the rats nest of alleys and side streets a few hundred yards distant. They managed to make it about halfway when the police car they’d seen from the roof raced onto the street behind them, all four wheels screaming as it skidded sideways in pursuit.

Moving as one they dashed into the nearest road, then ducked down an alley far too small for the police car to drive down. They heard the screech of brakes and the slam of car doors as the officers jumped from the car and started to chase after them. They dodged right, left then right again, emerging onto a wider road, just as a familiar black coupe slid round the corner, the nose dipping almost to the tarmac as the driver stood on the brakes. Tim leapt through the open door into the back seat, pulling the front seat down as he did so to allow Steve to follow him in. As soon as his feet were off the ground Steve yelled: “Go!” and in the half second it took for Fiona to react he was inside the car.

She slammed her foot hard on the accelerator and the car seemed to squat down and rocket up the road like a bullet from a gun. Her entire concentration was on the road ahead as she piloted them at reckless speed through streets that were barely wide enough for the car to squeeze down, the sound of sirens echoing around them as they went.

“Good timing lass.” Steve said as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thanks, though it’s really not that hard when you can listen in to the police band, that’s an amazing piece of kit by the way.” She said, indicating the stereo, which was still broadcasting the police transmissions.

Suddenly a police car burst out of a side street and slithered into place a few feet from their back bumper. Steve reached forward and hit a button on the dash, triggering the car’s ECM package that had worked so effectively the previous night. “At least they can’t tell anyone where we are.” He said, “Now if we can loose this lot we should be in the clear. Any bright ideas?”

“How about that?” Fiona said, pointing up the road. In the distance, but approaching rapidly, a car transporter sat unattended, it’s top ramp on the ground as the driver finished up the paperwork with the owner of the showroom.

“Looks good to me, you know what you’re doing?”

“Let’s find out.” She said, easing back on the throttle and letting the police car close to a distance that was practically touching, all the while gently easing the car slightly to the left so that the passenger side was heading straight for the back of the parked transporter. Tim looked out the front window and reached over his shoulder for his seatbelt, muttering something that Fiona couldn’t quite make out, but which sounded an awful lot like: “Our Farther, who art in heaven, we’ll be there in a minute.”

At the last second she hauled the wheel right, the car groaning under the demands being placed on it as the tyres and chassis tried to break the laws of physics. The left side of the car cleared the hard metal side of the transporter by a gap that would barely have accepted a credit card. The police car behind wasn’t so lucky. The driver needed an extra second or two to react and repeat the manoeuvre, and it was time he simply didn’t have. The right wheels stayed on the road, the left ran up the temporary ramp until, as the car passed a forty-five degree angle, the whole thing rolled and landed upside-down on its roof, the light bar smashed instantly, sparks flying from the metal as they flew, upside down along the street until their journey was ended abruptly by a row of parked car.

The sound of the crash seemed to echo inside the coupe as Fiona picked up speed in an effort to put them as far as possible from any eyewitnesses. Steve glanced behind them and, just before they shot around the nearest corner, saw the two officers in the car start to extract themselves from the wreckage. He turned back smiling at the nights work. They’d gotten what they wanted and hadn’t had to hurt anyone in the process. Well, not in any permanent way at least. And of course they were all in one piece, which was always a plus point. No, he decided, not a bad nights work at all.

Fiona took one final, tyre screeching turn onto a three-lane highway and backed the car down to a speed that wouldn’t attract the attention of any passing law enforcement officers before turning slightly to make sure Tim could hear her. “Umm, I think there’s something you should know.” She said, and proceeded to tell her tale. After she finished there was silence for well over a minute as everyone sat lost in their own thoughts.

“You know, it’s probably a good thing for Nick he’s not still in the land of the living.” Tim growled “it’s sure as hell a lot less painful than what I’d have done if I’d got my hands on him..”

Steve was looking at it from another angle though. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face.

“I, I think so.” She replied. “It’s kind of a shock, but yeah, I’m okay. Bottom line is if he’d backed off at any point he’d still be alive, and if it’s me or him I’m not going to feel guilty for choosing me.”

Steve didn’t look convinced, but let the matter drop for now; there was more urgent business to attend to. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked, mind racing as he tried to come up with a viable solution.

“Well, it’s going to take about a day to sort through all this and pick out anything that isn’t background noise from the power feeds.” Tim said, tapping the data pack still strapped securely in its pouch. “Fortunately we can let the computer do most of the dirty work, though if your theory’s right, which I still don’t believe it is by the way, I’d suggest we do this on something with it’s own power supply.”

“Way ahead of you, I’ve got a laptop charging at home from a gas-fired generator, it’s as isolated as I can make it so it should be secure. In the meantime, what say we go hunting?”

Tim stared at him for a moment. “Look, you know I’m your friend, right? And that I’ll always respect you and all that, but are you nuts? The last time you guys went into VR this, whatever it is, managed to cut you off from the interface and damn near beat the holly hell out of you to boot! What on earth makes you think it’s a good idea to go back in there?”

“Two things actually. Now that we know a little more about what we’re up against, we can go armed to match it. Take the code breakers in with us as objects rather than trying to access them through the interface. That should let us fight this thing, or at least give us a chance to hold it while we let the computer get a decent snapshot of it this time. And second, I think we can come up with an ace in the hole it wouldn’t be expecting, that is if you’re up for it lass.” He said, turning to face Fiona as he said the last.


It was an hour later and Fiona found herself back in VR and once again facing the frozen form of the mystery man. This time though Steve had pulled the character data from the original file and moved it across to what he’d called a honey pot program. “It’s simple, at least in concept.” He’d told her, as she was getting ready to enter the sim. “The program looks like a normal VR sim, hell even if you look at the code structure it seems like a normal program, in this case one set in an office building. Underneath though everything’s hardwired back into a sensor suite that records everything that happens in far greater detail that normally gets saved to the replays. You go in there, we record the interactions between you and it, and as we’re about it we might as well let you wail on it to get some issues out of your system. Oh, almost forgot, as we’ve isolated this thing from the original environment it shouldn’t be able to find you again.”

The last sentence had made good sense at the time, but now that she was face to face with this thing, the words rang a little hollow. She had to admit though, the world he’d created really was beautiful, a tall skyscraper with glass everywhere, each level connected by a central core of elevators surrounded by running water, every third level tired to form a natural balcony to view this modern wonder of construction and the glittering lights of the city beyond it.

Her body was clothed in the same leather outfit she’d been wearing all night, though Steve hadn’t replicated the bloodstains in the VR world when he’d created it. Her hands were encased in boxing gloves and she tentatively raised her right arm, pulling back and letting fly a clumsy right hook that crashed into the mans’ jaw and sent him staggering back a few paces. She tensed, ready to run, but nothing happened, the man simply returned to the straight ahead position and she realised that this might actually be fun, give her a chance to work out some issues as Steve had put it.

A couple of quick left jabs followed, and now she had a smile on her face as she started to relax into a rhythm. She’d done the occasional workout with the speed bag in her local gym when no one else was around, but had while that was always a satisfying exercise it had seemed to lack an intangible something. Well, it wasn’t intangible anymore, it was standing in front of her, rocking and rolling with every punch she threw at it, reacting more or less as a real person would, albeit without the blood or cuts a real body would be displaying by now. She threw a quick succession of body shots, alternating left and right hands before launching a massive right uppercut that damn near knocked his head off.

She stood in front of him, panting from her exertions, her arms and legs burning from the unfamiliar movements as she eyed her target. Grinning she took a step backwards, checked her positioning and launched herself forward, spinning round on the left leg, right extended to bring her booted foot into perfect contact with the mans face. Or at least it would have if his arms hadn’t come up to grab her leg and stop the blow stone dead before it could land.

She looked on in horror, as the face seemed to change somehow, a ripple passing over the features and in its wake, a new awareness was clearly visible. She felt something like an electric shock pass through her as the man held her leg in a grip of steel. Then her heart missed a beat as she saw the man shift his grip, ducking down slightly to rest her leg on his shoulder, his left arm wrapped around her ankle like a vice, his right moving down her exposed leg towards her knee and thigh. As the fingers made contact she felt the first fleeting tickles course through her body, then suddenly she was flying backwards as the room seemed to dissolve around her, the building and cityscape beyond flashing past her eyes as she accelerated away, only to crash to a stop in her own body, safe and out of the virtual world.

The man looked around in confusion, obviously wondering where his prize and gone. From the far side of the room there was the rustle of leather and two shadows detached themselves from the surrounding darkness.

“Sorry chief, but Fiona couldn’t stick around to play this time.” Steve drawled, as he found, much to his surprise, he was actually enjoying this scenario.

“But look on the bright side…” Tim said as the two men stepped forward into the light “you’ve got us to keep you entertained.”

Both men wore dressed in black, long leather trenchcoats almost brushing the floor as they walked, matching black cotton trousers and t-shirt underneath. As one they reached back over their shoulders and with perfect synchronisation pulled two long katana swords from sheathes mounted under the coats, a small hole almost at the nape of the neck sufficient to allow the blade to be drawn without removing the coat itself. They brought the swords up to a guard position, Tim’s to the left, Steve’s to the right and waited, knowing the next move was up to their opponent.

For a long moment nothing happened and Steve started to worry that they’d miscalculated, that whatever this rogue program was it had withdrawn at the sight of two armed guardians ready to oppose it. Then the figure stirred, bringing its right hand up in a closed fist to a point just in front if it’s mouth. The man whispered something into his hand, then move his arm out and gently opened his fingers to reveal what looked like a pile of dark sand gathered in his palm. He turned his hand and the sand fell to the floor, the stream continuing long beyond the point the small mound should have been able to sustain. As the sand hit the ground it started to pool, rising slowly at first, then faster as the stream increased. Gradually it started to form a human figure, starting at the feet and working upwards along the legs and hips, then on over the body and finally the head. As the last of the sand fell Steve heard a gasp from alongside him, and felt his own heart miss a beat.

“Eleanor…” Tim whispered, reaching out towards the woman that stood in front of them, pain clearly visible on his face.

“No!” Steve barked, reaching out and grabbing his friend by the shoulder. “She’s gone Tim, this is just a trick, he’s using her to throw you off balance, to distract you.”

Steve wondered briefly how the hell this thing had known who she was, how it could have known of Tim’s feelings towards this women, an innocent killed by a street gang in a robbery for no better reason than she and her colleagues had been working late when they’d blown up the building. Not that he could blame his friend for wanting to believe this really was her, she was a stunning beauty and would have distracted any man, and for that matter, most women, from whatever they were doing at the time. Almost six foot tall, long raid hair flowing down her back almost to her waist, a sharp, almost classical face and a body that seemed to flow under your eyes as she effortlessly stretched under their gaze, working the kinks out of limbs that hadn’t existed a minute earlier.

“Tim, listen to me. That’s not Eleanor, as much as I wish it could be. We’ve got a job to do, and if that means going through something wearing her face, well, if you don’t want to I suggest you get out of here now, while you still can.”

Tim paused for a moment before answering in a voice as cold and hard as the steel of the building around them. “No. You’re right, this isn’t her, but I’m gonna make that thing pay for doing this. Let’s do it.”

Continued (I did say it was long 😉 )

They raised their swords up to shoulder height, intending to cut their way through this distraction and hit the man quickly, before he had a chance to try anything else. Just before they could move though there was a noise of metal on metal as Eleanor brought her hands from behind her back, revealing the twin short swords she had been hiding there. Simple in design there was no guard, just a hilt and the blade itself that curved slightly in an edge that looked distinctly lethal. The two friends shared a quick look as they realised this wasn’t going to be quite as easy as they’d hopped.

Moving together they raced forward, each slashing down and across her body, tying to land a quick, decisive blow and end the fight before it could really begin. That hope was quickly dashed as she seemed to blur, spinning in a tight arc, the tips of her swords flashing in the air, forcing her attackers to abort their strike and concentrate on their own blocking moves. Steve danced backwards, ducking the sword that arced towards his head, bringing his own blade up to run parallel to his right arm as he looked for an opening. Tim parried the attack directed towards his ribs and used the extra momentum to launch his blade in towards her stomach. A clang of metal hitting metal echoed through the empty office she somehow managed to bring her second sword around and down in time to not only block the blow, but to do so in such a way that her blade was sent forwards towards Tim’s unprotected thigh.

A brief cry echoed through the building as the blade bit into Tim’s leg, forcing him to the ground. The wound wasn’t deep but it guaranteed he would be moving slowly for the rest of the fight, leaving it as a one-on-one fight. Eleanor brought both blades up above her head and stabbed downwards towards his heart, looking to take out one of her advisories while she had the chance. Tim saw the swords descending towards him in slow motion and closed his eyes, not needing to see the women he’d loved drive a couple of feet of steel into his chest. There was a pause and instead of the wet thud of the blades hitting flesh he heard a metallic clang. He opened his eyes and saw Steve kneeling on his right, muscles straining to hold the points of her swords bare inches from Tim’s body. He got his feet flat to the ground and shoved up with his legs, forcing her back, sending her spinning away for some manoeuvring room as Steve stepped to the right, away from Tim, inviting her to follow.

Eleanor glanced over at the mystery man, who was watching the fight unfold with the same air of remote interest he’d exhibited while torturing Fiona, and he met her gaze for a moment before nodding. She turned back and, with no further warning, launched herself at Steve, her movements almost faster than he could follow.

Backing away, fighting more on instinct than anything else, Steve ducked, spun and parried as best he could, barely seeing the flash of steel as it arced towards his body, being steadily driven back towards one end of the office. Both blades came scything down from above him, forcing him to extend his reach beyond a comfortable point to block, and a boot connected solidly with his stomach, sending him flying. There was a crash and the sound of breaking glass as he fell, and even before he hit the floor he could feel the dozens of cuts the window had caused as he went through it start to bleed.

Rolling quickly to his left he felt rather than saw a sword tip strike the ground close enough to his head he felt a small chunk of his hair drop to the ground. Bringing his legs to his chest he kicked upwards, using the momentum to flip back to his feet, sword out to parry the shot he’d seen coming barely a second before that would have cut through his waist. Turning he started to press his own attack, forcing her onto the defensive as they moved down a corridor towards the central core of the building. On either side were small executive offices, at the far end the doors to the elevator. As they moved stray swipes of their blades caught the floor-to-ceiling windows fronting the offices, causing a shower of glass to rain around them, guarantying a very painful landing if either of them should fall.

As they reached the elevator the doors opened and, almost without thinking Steve kept pressing the advantage, forcing Eleanor back into the enclosed space. As she passed through the door he saw her right hand dart forward in a rare miscalculation and the blade hit the wall of the elevator rather than slicing in at his legs. She stumbled and fell, her back bouncing hard against the metal and glass framework of the lift car and Steve moved forward quickly, eager to take the opportunity to end this. As he did so the lift doors slid shut behind him, the car moving smoothly upwards as Eleanor brought both legs around to kick his feet out from under him.

He landed hard on his back and brought his legs in instinctively to avoid the blade that was already whistling towards them. Rocking forward he got to his knees in time to bring his sword up and block the deadly downward stab that had been aimed for his heart, once again finding himself locked in position as he tried to find enough leverage to power this women off him. But the fight had taken a lot out of him already and he couldn’t manage to get his feet to the floor to provide a solid base. He could feel the unrelenting pressure from above and reflected ruefully a blade didn’t have to stab you hard to kill you; enough force behind a slow hit would force it in just as well, and with a lot more pain to boot.

Suddenly the lift slid to a stop, the doors opening behind him onto the top floor atrium, the change in movement providing just enough of a distraction for him to force her off to his left as he shuffled sideways and out of the door, regaining his feet with some difficulty. Blood was flowing freely now from his face and hands, his coat ripped and torn on the back and arms. In contrast Eleanor appeared to have just stepped out of the shower, she hadn’t even broken a sweat and looked like she could continue this onslaught until the end of time if necessary.

She picked up speed, jumping towards him, blades hidden behind her arms until they were needed. Steve parried one, but couldn’t quite reach the other as it flashed across his left arm, slicing through the leather and cutting the skin beneath. He went white for a moment as he tried to adjust to the pain, thankfully the cut wasn’t deep, hadn’t done much more than pierce the skin and he wasn’t really impaired by it.

Eleanor had used the momentum of her jump to carry her on past him, and was standing about five feet away, her back almost against wall of the penthouse suite. She twisted around, bringing her right arm up from around her waist and launched one of her swords straight at his face. Moving on instinct he brought his own blade up while trying to duck down under the incoming projectile. There was a clatter as the swords met and he saw the short sword vanish over the edge of the atrium to land somewhere on the next level down amongst the foliage.

As he regained his balance Eleanor pressed her attack, and even though it was now a more even fight she was still moving faster and with far greater precision than he could hope to match. Gradually she forced him back until his heels touched empty air, and a quick glance down showed the long drop to the man-made garden below, the pool of water feeding the waterfall that cascaded down the centre of the building alongside the elevator gleaming like a jewel in the midst of the greenery. He turned his attention back to the woman in front of him, bringing his sword up to catch hers and for a moment they stayed like that, swords locked diagonally between their faces, each trying to force the other back. The deadlock was broken as Eleanor dropped her blade slightly to her right, her left hand coming up and around to strike him in an open palmed blow to the centre of the chest.

He fell, turning as he did so in a desperate attempt to hit the one place he might survive the drop. It wasn’t that far down, maybe twenty or thirty feet and as he felt panic try to claim him he imagined it was a high dive at the local swimming pool. Hell, he’d jumped off cliffs twice as high back home and survived, albeit not usually fully clothed and carrying a large, sharp chunk of metal. Letting his body take over he watched, as the ground seemed to rush towards him, fighting to keep his eyes open to the end.

There was a splash and the cold water of the pool closed over him, a welcome relief as he fought to straighten his dive before he cracked his head into the bottom of the pool. He surfaced, wincing as he felt the muscles in his stomach protest at what he’d just put them through. At least he’d bought himself a few seconds, maybe more as Eleanor found a way down that didn’t involve quite so much pain, time he badly needed.

A second splash cut through his thoughts as Eleanor choose to take the direct route down to join him. Before he could react a hand was placed on the back of his head, forcing him underwater, the grip like steel as it held him face down. The world seemed to burn around him as lungs that were in need of air before started to burn, blackness dancing around the edge of his vision. Forcing himself to think clearly he realised the hand on his head was her right hand, the thumb pointing along his skull towards his face, which meant she should be off to his left somewhere.

Bringing his legs up he felt about until they bounced off something that felt like a shin. Wrapping both his legs around hers, he twisted as best he could, yanking upwards with every last bit of energy he had left. He felt her leg shift, and the disturbance that flowed through the water was enough to let him know she was no longer on her feet, followed almost immediately by the shifting of the grip from his skull, allowing his head to clear the water in a great wrenching gasp.

Standing he wiped a hand across his eyes to brush the water away and clear his vision, only to see Eleanor do the same thing as she flipped her now soaked hair back behind her head. She was still armed only with the one sword, but at that moment she could probably have taken him with down with a paperclip. He backed away slowly, moving towards the edge of the pool and the waterfall that fell maybe two hundred feet to the catch pool in the lobby. He looked down and a last, desperate gamble formed in his mind.

Eleanor moved forward, her sword darting out not to cut him but to herd him back towards the drop, cutting down his manoeuvring room before the kill. Steve stumbled and dropped to one knee before regaining his feet and slipping his now shredded jacket off onto a rock on the edge of the drop. As his feet reached the drop he could feel eternity open up behind him, the empty space seeming to pull him downwards on its own. He looked back and down, then up at the woman stalking towards him. With a weary smile he nodded at her, and slid his sword back into its sheath on his back, surrendering to the inevitable. She paused for a second, returned the nod, and lunged forward with her blade, aiming for one final, decisive blow at his neck, clearly intending to sever his neck.

At the last moment Steve dropped down and to his left, his outstretched hand grabbing the sleeve of his jacket and hurling it round her waist like a whip. The heavy, wet leather curved around her body from the force of his throw, still anchored in his left hand as the other edge of the jacket fell neatly into his right. He yanked backwards, hurling himself out into space, pulling her along with him, and they both started to fall.

The extra momentum provided by the throw sent Eleanor into the centre of the drop, and let Steve pivot to stay almost against the side of the shaft as they fell, not that it was much of a consolation as they’d both be very dead when they reached ground level no matter how close to the edge or centre of the pool they were. However he had no intention of falling that far. Reaching behind him he ripped the sword, still in its sheath, from his back and waited, knowing he had to time this to perfection.

As he drew level with the lift car he lunged forward, thrusting the sword through glass at the front and out the side panel, bringing his left hand up to grab the end of the sheath. His body screamed in protest as his shoulders, arms and back bore the strain of stopping his body’s flight in the space of an inch or two, but he held on, trying to convert the momentum into a swing, bringing his feet up to break the glass panel covering the bottom third of the front of the car and rolling inside to safety. A few seconds later he heard the distant splash and thud of a body hitting the water and crawled over to the broken glass to see the results.

Expecting to see a mangled body he was somewhat surprised to see only a large black patch on the surface of the water, until his mind pieced together what he was seeing was in fact the black ‘sand’ she’d been made from. Rolling over he managed to press the button for the floor they’d started this whole thing on and lay back, letting the elevator carry the load for a moment.

The doors slid open and Steve stepped wearily out into the corridor, making his way carefully past the shattered glass that bore silent testament to the ferocity of the fight that had just occurred. He entered the office and saw Tim lying on the floor, his face tight from pain as he looked over at Steve, only for the pain to be replaced by shock at his friends’ battered condition.

“You…you get her?” Tim asked, voice thinner than Steve was used to.

“Yeah, whatever it was it’s resting in pieces at the bottom of the building.” He replied, moving slowly over to the once-more immobile figure of their mystery man.

“Thought so.” Tim gasped as he tried to move his leg to a more comfortable position. “He was watching the whole thing on some sort of screen, I didn’t catch most of it, but it looked pretty bad. Tried to get him, but he just took one look at me and I was stuck to the ground, like I’d landed in super glue or something. Then a couple of minutes ago he looked, I don’t know, surprised I guess and then, poof. The body’s still here, but ain’t nobody home manno.”

Steve glanced at the eyes of the man, and saw they were once again the dull, lifeless eyes of a frozen program. “Now isn’t that interesting?” he said. “We need to talk about this, but I suggest we get out of here first, who knows who may be listening? Fiona, if you could do the honours.” The last sentence was directed seemingly to empty air, but almost immediately the room started to fade around them, replaced a few seconds later by the familiar confines of his flat, as Fiona turned round from the computer keyboard.

“You want to tell me about that thing not being able to find us again, hmm?” she asked as the guys wearily removed their VR suits.

“Later.” Tim muttered

“Much later.” Steve confirmed. “Like after we’ve had a chance to shower, rest and maybe grab some coffee.”

Funny story if you're not me. Finished this yesterday and posted, looked at clock and thought 'hmm, midnight, just time for a quick brainstorm on the other half of this story'. Next time I look up at the clock it says something that seems to be 03:47. Much swearing did follow as I had to be in work at eight this morning....

Thanks man, been sweating this one all day, got the notification on e-mail just after I got into work but couldn't really look at it from a 'your internet use is monitored, bagged, tagged and noted on your permanent record that you're not allowed to see, ever' work machine.

Don't worry, plot exposition scene coming up will tidy up the bits I didn't make clear (sometime deliberatly, sometimes just 'cause I cocked up). The "Our Father..." line is ripped from real life as a mate of mine stupidly told me to drive 'quickly' to his house. 3 miles, 1 of which is in a 30 mph limit that I stuck to, the rest on a one lane backroad, start to finish in 3 minutes 15 seconds. Sadly I can't do justice in written form to the girly scream of terror (tm) he let slip when I got it a tad crossed up coming out of a bend and heading at speed for the local crematorium...

The scary part is the sword fight came straight from brain to fingers, no pre-prep and only one moment of actually working it through to get the motions right for the ending, just two hours of solid writing. This is a touch worrying. Oh, if you read back through the other bits, the 'good guys' have yet to actually win a fight through skill, marksmanship etc, more by running away and thinking quickly (and then running away again just to be sure). Hey, I like realism (umm, to a point anyway), sue me.

Next part, umm, don't quote me but mid week seems like a good bet, then another mass writing binge next weekend to get it close to finished with a bit of luck. The annoying bit now is I already want to start going back and editing, as I know I can do this better than the 'serial' version you guys get here. Oh well.

Mmmmmmmmmmm, Fiona's such a ticklish-yummy name, too

...had to re-read this since I'm catching up with parts 7 & 8. Tasty!

Meep Meep!

Arghhhh, stop it, you've got me chasing you all over the forum trying to reply to replies 😀 How's this, when I finish this (sometime soon hopefully, like in the next two weeks) I'll post the whole thing as a zip file somewhere?

Re: Meep Meep!

BOFH666 said:

Arghhhh, stop it, you've got me chasing you all over the forum trying to reply to replies 😀 How's this, when I finish this (sometime soon hopefully, like in the next two weeks) I'll post the whole thing as a zip file somewhere?

Click to expand...

Wile E. Coyote......... Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenius!

Sounds like a plan! 😛