The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady is set against the Background of R.Talsorians roleplaying game Cyberpunk. This is not intended as a challenge to their copyright. The Author grants permission to download a copy of this work for personal use. It may not be archived on pay sites or altered without the authors permission.

The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady

Part Seven

Cleo walks the competition grounds eyeing up the opposition. Near the rifle range she meets some old classmates from Sheldon's and Rufus waits patiently as they catch up on things that have happened since their graduation. Cleo eyes their competitors badges sporting their employers logo's.

"You seen anyone from Fantastic Journey?" she asks an old classmate, who's badge declares he works for the Hanging Gardens Casino.

"Just Sky DiMarco."

"Who?"

"You have been out of town for a while, haven't you?" he grins. "Di Marco heads security at Fantastic Journey."

"What's she entered in?"

"25 metre Pistol, the Alley, Unarmed Combat and the Melee."

"Mmmm."

Rufus looks worried.

"You're not going to do anything dumb are you Cleo?"

"Like what?"

"The COA said you shouldn't start anything."

"It's an open competition. If we end up facing each other the COA can't complain."

The Police Armourer scrutinises Cleo's weapons and signs his approval.

"Passed for use on the range."

"Thanks Sarge."

She slips the pistol back into its purse holster and the magazines into the garter clip.

"You taking any thrown weapons Ms Guzzmann?"

"They allowed?"

"In the Alley this Year."

She fishes in her bag and comes up with an FEN Saucer Grenade.

"Frisbee o'death ok?"

"That a live one?"

"What good's a dummy?"

"You'll need a reduced charge one. We wouldn't want to rebuilt the whole thing between competitors."

"Ok."

"You in the Unarmed Combat?"

"Sure."

"Armour?."

"Hadn't planned to wear anything beyond a gumshield and a pair of combat cups."

"Are you taking any weapons?"

"It's unarmed isn't it?"

"No firearms, or edged and pointed weapons."

"Riiight. Same goes for the Melee?"

"'part from you can use paintball guns in the Melee. And the Melee ain't one on one."

"Can I borrow a riot baton?"

"Without the spray."

"That's fine. You want to check the cups?"

"Please Ms Guzzmann. I need to make sure you're not trying to smuggle any illegal enhancements in."

Clarice Palmetto lies in her new bed and sweats. It's been 36 hours since her cellmate had rubbed god-knows-what over her sex, and its still swollen and throbbing. The temptation to touch and rub was strong, but the doctor Marta had got to treat her had warned her to avoid rubbing her sex, or she'd end up rubbing herself raw.

She flips the sheet back and lets the Air Conditioner blow cold air over her skin, luxuriating in the temporary relief the cold air on her sex affords her, but the sensation soon returns and she can no longer stay in bed.

The shower delivers a forceful stream of water and Clarice turns the temperature down until it feels cold enough to form ice-cubes, then she takes the shower head down and directs the flow of ice-cold water against her sex.. The needle jets cool her burning sex and massage her swollen pearl until she can hardly stand and her belly aches from contraction after contraction, but as soon as she turns the water off she can feel the heat building in her sex again.

Donning her casual officewear she strikes out across the yard. A pair of sanitation wagons are manoeuvring out of the workshops, but the office is empty apart from one of the Solos

"Umm. Anya?"

"That's me!" the girl says brightly.

"Where's Ms Wheaten?"

"In the workshop working on some project."

"Thanks." Clarice turns and leaves the office.

"I don't think she wants interrupting." Anya shouts, but Clarice is gone.

Entering the workshop Clarice skirts the bay where Tony and Leta are clambering over one of their charges, and looks around for Marta.

Her eyes light on a door off to the side of the vehicle bay marked 'Marta's Playground. MYOB' and she heads for the door, ignoring the instruction to stay out.

The handle turns easily and Clarice walks into a brightly lit workshop. Machine tools line one wall and a small autofactory hums quietly to itself in a corner.

A tapping of claws alerts Clarice to something moving and she spins to find a dog bearing down on her.

"SIT!" Keanu barks and the dog drops to a sitting position.

"Marta! Get round here and shut him off. We need to restart the test sequence!"

Clarice is puzzled for a moment, then looks down. The dog's mouth is slightly open, but instead of natural teeth she can see the glitter of Carbo Glass.

"Clarice. Don't move. The unit's under test and we want to be 100% about its safety."

She freezes in place.

"Marta? Isn't that Bruno?" she quavers.

"The chassis. We put some new stuff in."

As Marta emerges from a side room the hound stands.

"SIT!" Keanu commands.

Again the hound sits, but a bit closer to Clarice.

"What are you getting Keanu?" Marta asks.

"It's not in the attack tree. It's in Core Command executing the Pseudo Dog code. Whoop! Just got an interrupt from sensors. It's jumped into New Code."

"What do I do?" Clarice demands.

The cyberhound thrusts its muzzle under her skirt and its nose pushes into her - hard - sinking between swollen parted lips and pushing the fabric of her underwear ahead of it. The material strokes over her hyper sensitive sex and Clarice shudders as the sensu-soft mockfur rubs against her legs.

"It's still in New Code. Frozen at Subroutine seven. Conflict resolution's kicked in. Kill it Marta - it's into Attack.!"

Marta jumps for the hound's kill switch, but the teeth flash and fabric tears. Clarice is frozen in fear - the teeth could easily gut her unprotected belly.

Something cool slides between her labia and into her belly. Her knees buckle and the delicious intruder slips effortlessly deeper."

"We're back in New Code." Keanu shouts and Marta freezes.

The intruder in her belly shivers and moves gently, and Clarice moans.

"Jeez, we weren't meant to be testing this for ages." Keanu mutters.

"What happened?"

"Interrupt from the Olfactory sensor jumped us straight into the new code."

Clarice doesn't care. The hound is easing delight in and out of her aching sex, its nose pressed on her throbbing pearl, hitting all the right buttons.

"Clarice? You ok?" Marta asks.

"Yeah" she breathes. "Yes. I'm fine."

"We need to shut it down Keanu, It's... doing her."

"That means restarting the whole sequence from scratch."

"It's only 12 hours." Marta mutters, unhappy with the way a purely theoretical intellectual challenge has abruptly become highly practical. She looks at Clarice, not meeting the trembling girls eyes.

"Do you want us to shut him down?"

"N...no. I'm ok. Let it finish. Please?"

"She must still be under the influence of that stuff." she hears Keanu say. "The hound must have picked up on the scent from her Vaginal Mucosa."

"You programmed that?"

"It's a safeguard. No arousal - no penetration."

"Is the camera running?"

"Always."

"We should shut it off. It's.... embarrassing."

"Clarice might need some shots for her catalogue."

The delicious penetration pleasures Clarice - but it's not deep or big enough and she begins to whimper at the teasing.. Then, without warning, the penetrator is withdrawn leaving her staggering.

"Ok Clarice. This way." Marta instructs, thankful the embarrassing episode is over.

Clarice turns and staggers towards her on weak legs.

"He's in Core Code. SIT! STAY!" Keanu barks

Clarice tries to walk calmly and with dignity, but her knees buckle and she falls to the ground in front of Marta.

"Let's get you out of here." Marta says, bending to help Clarice rise, but as she begins to get up the droid moves again.

"Damn, he's back in New Code."

Soft fur brushes over her naked buttocks and the droids strong limbs clamp firmly around Clarice's hips.

"What's it doing" Marta demands. "Stop it."

"It's interpreted Clarice's posture as a command."

Clarice doesn't have to work out what command. A blunt tip enters her again and the softly furred limbs grip her with reassuring firmness.

With a snap of its hips the droid drives its penetrator all the way in, but in spite the seemingly violent thrust the tip just gently caresses her deepest recesses. The perfect shape stirs her belly as it withdraws and Clarice braces herself to receive the penetration she craves.

"Do we try and break into the sequence?" Keanu asks his partner as Clarice energetically pushes back to meet her mechanical lover.

"Don't you dare!" Clarice blurts.

"I think she'd be pissed if we did." Marta blushes..

Keanu bends over his terminal, typing rapidly.

"Ok. I've remoted in and scripted a cut-off. When she's had enough it'll revert to Command and stay there. The Attack tree's barred so she should be safe enough."

"Isn't it too early for a full field trial?"

"It was going to have to be tested at some stage."

"But I wasn't planning on it being so..... graphic. Things like that.... they don't need spectators."

"Four things. Number one - Clarice needs something softer to kneel on."

Between the two of them they manage to lift the moaning, shuddering woman and her remorseless mechanical lover high enough to slide some bubble wrap under her knees.

"You said four things?"

"Yeah. Two - I think we need to put some password lockouts in - stop it just jumping anyone."

"And?"

"You think Jean might be interested in Selling these through the Catalogue?"

"How would I know? That's her call."

"Lastly?"

"You got the recorders running?"

"Of course."

"Then lets leave them in privacy and you can take me to bed."

As they leave the workshop and close the door behind them Clarice begins to wail her pleasure.

The Alley contestants are sequestered in a waiting area. Conversation is restricted to speculation about the environment the Sheriff's selected for this years Alley.

"Last year's sucked." one of the contestants comments. "He'd put together a chunk of Downtown Detroit. You couldn't tell the difference between the Good Guys and the Bad Guys."

Cleo's drawn a slot about half way down the order, just ahead of Sky DiMarco.

The Range officer enters the waiting area for his next victim.

"Guzzmann. C."

"Here!"

The range officer leads the way through an armoured door and down a bare concrete corridor. As they walk he reads the briefing notes to her.

"You're entering an enclosed combat range where you will be presented with a variety of targets over a five minute period. At the end of the time the range will be restored to full lighting and a buzzer like this will sound."

A raucous buzz splits the air.

"When you hear the buzzer you will unload your weapon and make your way to the exit sign. You will not load your weapon until the entry door is closed and the lights have gone down. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Then let's proceed."

The door opens and Cleo walks into a Ladies rest room. The door shuts behind her and the lights dim. Cleo fits her first magazine and chambers a round.

An unseen speaker comes to life.

"C.Leo Guzzmann. ES Security. Ready?"

Cleo gives a thumbs up and it begins.

At first she wonders if she's on an artillery range somewhere. But the hideous noise assailing her ears resolves itself to music played painfully loud.

A toilet door bangs open revealing a woman dressed to party. Cleo's weapon twitches towards the figure, but stops as her brain tags the figure as a non-hostile. She moves towards the rest room's exit which flies open at her approach revealing a woman holding a sub-gun. Cleo pops her a round in the centre torso and the target drops

Beyond the doorway is a night club in full swing. Loud, bright and dark in all the wrong places. Picking her way through the moving figures Cleo scans constantly for trouble. A trio of boys at the bar turn, revealing handguns. Cleo dives and rolls, firing as she goes. The figures fall indicating they've been seriously hit, but Cleo has no idea exactly where they were struck.

A shooter in the DJ booth draws a round, then the slide on her pistol locks back. The empty mag hits the floor and a replacement is hooked from her garter in time for her to spot a figure with a Kalashnikov whirling with the dancers on the dance floor. Cleo ducks behind a pillar and pops the hostile as the friendlies whirl away from it.

The pounding music sets a rhythm that's easy to move to, and it's only with some difficulty she avoids moving to the beat as she leaves the area of the dance floor and climbs the stairs to the balcony. As she advances into the corridor she's suddenly faced by a solid mass of hostiles. She pops the lead targets and something whizzes past her. Momentarily she's tempted to toss the frisbee into the crowd, but she restrains herself and ducks behind a balustrade. A hail of paint balls spray overhead, so she leans around the end to pop another couple. The computer controlled targets fall reveal a gaggle of schoolchildren who scatter uncovering another couple of hostiles. Her pistol fires once more, then the slide locks back again and Cleo loads her last magazine.

Mirrored surfaces show the corridor is clear and Cleo rolls out. The target is no longer there so she moves forwards towards the exit sign.

A sounder shrieks and the lights come up. The barrage of noise stops, but targets are still moving.

<The buzzer's not right!> Cleo realises, ducking for cover. Smoke billows from somewhere on her right and friendlies move, crowding her. Cleo barges through them, staying low. Suddenly, without warning, the hostile is in front of her. The Colt fires without Cleo being conscious of stroking the trigger and the figure falls.

Around her the friendlies drop like a line of domino's and the light come all the way up. The buzzer sounds and ventilators suck the smoke away. Cleo removes her magazine and clears the weapon.

"Clear!"

"Ok Ms Guzzmann, " the speaker blares, " If you'll exit the range. Your expended magazines will be returned to you."

The door opens and the range officer confirms her weapon's unloaded then waves her on.

"My Score?"

"We tell everyone once the competition's over." he grins, "Keeps the tension up. Turn round please."

Cleo turns in her light summer dress.

"Guzzmann, C - No paint."

"You were shooting at me?"

"Some of the Hostiles fire Paint balls. It encourages the tardy."

Cleo makes her way out to the viewing area where Rufus is waiting.

"For a second I thought you might grenade that group of hostiles." he comments.

"Tempted to. Resisted."

"You misses the two bad guys by the kitchen."

"I did? Oh damn!"

"I wouldn't worry. There's not enough time to shoot them all and the important thing is you didn't pick up any paint."

"How long to the Unarmed Combat?"

"We've about an hour until the competition starts. Why? You want to do something else?"

"I need a paintball gun for the melee. Did I see some trade stands?"

"In the main hall."

"Are there any gunsmiths? I wonder if they could tweak my Colt for a better rate of fire...?"

Clarice lies semi-collapsed beneath the hound. Its paws rest on her shoulder blades, pinning her down as it ravishes her.

"Hnnng!" she grunts as her belly spasms once more. "No more, please...?"

Obediently the hound stops and withdraws, letting her collapse to the floor.

Eventually Clarice regains her feet and heads for the exit, the hound trailing her every step to the doorway.

"Good Boy!" Clarice mumbles, absent - mindedly patting it on the head, feeling the armour beneath.

The hound gives a strange artificial bark and sits by the door as she goes out.

"Oh my Knees!" Clarice groans as she slowly walks, bow-legged, across the yard to the office.

Anya looks up.

"Did you find Marta?"

"And lost her again" Clarice croaks, "Have you any water?"

Anya fills a paper cup from the dispenser and Clarice gulps it down

"Any idea where she is now Anya?"

"I think she went to her room."

"Thanks. OH... I've laddered my stockings." Clarice groans and walks unsteadily out of the office.

At the door of Marta's room she knocks and listens. From the other side of the door she can hear a wordless cry she takes as an invitation to enter. Inside she finds Marta astride her partner, riding for all she's worth.

"I said NO!" Marta gasps, "Come back later."

Clarice blushes and hurriedly closes the door.

"Sorry!"

Returning to her own room she goes to change, but she can hear Marta's moans and Keanu's gasps through the thin walls. She tugs off the tattered remnants of her underwear and her fingers caress her delightfully battered mound.

<What's happening to me. I never even thought about doing anything like that before!>

But she doesn't move away from the wall and her fingers lightly stroke and tease as she listens to Marta and Keanu pleasuring each other. With their tumultuous cries she enjoys her own stifled gasps of pleasure.

Showered and changed she waits in the office for them.

They arrive after about ten minutes

"You ok Clarice?" Keanu asks.

"Fine."

"Are you sure? It wasn't too rough?"

"Oh no Marta. It was perfect. Thanks for the stuff you put down for me to kneel on." she pauses, thinking how to word her comment. "Just one thing...... it needs to be able to come. I feel........ half cocked if it doesn't."

Keanu looks shocked. Marta scratches her head, considering.

"Well.... there's space for a reservoir.... if it's not too big.... and the penetrators already have the plumbing, though I wouldn't want to run pipes past the power and processor blocks to reach the head...."

"Oh no. the head one's just fine. You might want a small reservoir for that one. Lubricant or something....."

"What would we put in it?"

"Whatever we want as long as the texture and viscosity are right." Marta says thoughtfully.

Keanu looks horrified.

"I suppose flavour is important?" he asks sarcastically.

"Mmm.... well I suppose....... but we have experts on staff who can answer that...." Marta says, her mind on fitting the necessary liquid storage into the droid's chassis.

Cleo and Rufus sip chilled drinks and watch the Unarmed Combat. Competition is pretty fierce. A Sheriffs Deputy from Ely has already laid out a Corporate Guard from Petrochem's Vegas office and the Arena has a couple of Medtechs doing a roaring trade in patching up minor wounds.

"Laing, Rufus, Las Vegas Sheriff's Department." the referee calls, followed by "De Winter, Janice, Nevada Department of Correction."

A Substantial woman joins Rufus on the mat and Cleo sees one of his colleagues wince.

"What's the problem?"

"De Winter. She fights Sumo Style. Let her get too close and it's like being run down by an 18 wheeler!"

Cleo eyes the woman. <She certainly looks solid!> she thinks, taking in the woman's stance and the Department of Corrections Body Armour she wears. Rufus looks small - dwarfed by the Corrections Officer - but he looks poised and ready.

"Begin."

De Winter drops into a crouch and charges - intent on ramming Rufus off the mat.

Her widespread arms make evading her rush difficult, but Rufus manages to duck under her arm - taking a belt on the head for his trouble, but coming up behind her to find a usable target. He plants a thrusting side kick on her behind and she's pushed off the mat to stumble onto the landing mats surrounding the ring.

"Cease. Win. Laing."

Rufus shakes his head and comes off the ring to rejoin Cleo and accept the plaudits of his fellow officers.

"Thought she was going to flatten you there man!"

"Not a chance! I heard what she did to you last year Gerrig!"

There's general laughter and Rufus turns to Cleo

"You found out who you've drawn?"

"Not yet."

Rufus nods towards the adjudicators stand and the two people talking to the official adjudicator.

"Recognise them?"

"No. Who are they?"

"COA. Either someone's put a big bet on and they're here to prevent a fix, or they're doing something to keep everything calm and profitable."

Whatever it is they're doing, it's plain the Adjudicator isn't pleased. The referee on the mat looks up at the Adjudicator, puzzled by the delay in calling the next contestants.

"Di Marco, Sky, Fantastic Journey. Guzzmann, C.Leo, ES Security." the Adjudicator calls.

Cleo's puzzled, but Rufus murmurs to her

"Get you matched up and settled early, rather than chance a grudge match in front of a big crowd."

Cleo begins to stand, but Rufus stops her with his hand on her arm.

"DiMarco likes to fight close and dirty. I hear she's heavily into Savate."

"Thanks."

"Luck."

DiMarco arrives at the ring dressed in Streetwear, suggesting she's armoured. She looks Cleo's Partywear over.

"A bit underdressed aren't we?"

"Clothes are as clothes do."

The Armourer appears at the ringside and hands the Referee a riotstick.. Di Marco looks puzzled until he hands it to Cleo.

"A Riotstick?"

"You're wearing Armour. She chose a Riotstick."

Cleo takes the long baton from him and holds it before her in both hands.

"I want a clean fight." the Referee says, "If you leave the ring, you lose. Otherwise it's best of three or incapacitation. You can bang out and I will instruct your opponent to release you. Do you understand?"

They both nod and he signs them to opposite corners. Cleo's gaze is fixes on DiMarco, but from the corner of her eye she notes the bleachers are filling up in spite of the COAs people to keep it quiet.

"Come into the centre. Face each other!" the Ref calls. "Ready? Fight!"

DiMarco leaps forwards to close the range, her arm moving to an overhead block.

Cleo jumps back and snaps the baton forward, holding it like a sword and lunging through DiMarco's guard. The blunt end of the baton strikes her hard on the breastbone, knocking the wind out of her and driving her backwards, letting Cleo follow up with a short snapping kick to DiMarco's belly that drops her onto her back. The Baton reverses in Cleo's hand and she drops onto DiMarco, hard, halting the butt strike on her head with a token killing blow.

"Cease!" the referee calls. "First fall, Guzzmann."

They resume their positions and the Referee restarts them. Again DiMarco closes, but this time she's prepared for a lunge. Cleo manages a swing against her knee, but DiMarco's armour robs the blow of much of it's force, then she's on top of her.

A flurry of punches, elbow and knee strikes fall on Cleo. She gets a couple of blows back, but the baton encumbers her, so Cleo drops it in an attempt to fend off DiMarco's barrage, but she's too close and fighting to DiMarco's strengths.

DiMarco drives a combination of punches through Cleo's guard landing a hard blow on the armoured cup covering Cleo's right breast. The 'CRACK' of the cup shattering distracts Cleo enough for DiMarco to land a solid elbow on Cleo's chin with the opposite arm and she falls. DiMarco drops on her like a ton of bricks to deliver a pulled blow to Cleo's throat.

"Cease! Second Fall, DiMarco."

"I need a replacement cup!" Cleo calls and the Referee holds them on the mat whilst a replacement is procured..

<Don't let her close!> Cleo resolves as she removes the broken armour.

With a new cup in place they face off again, but on the instruction to fight Cleo begins to spin the short staff like a cheerleaders baton. DiMarco tries to close, but a smart rap with the spinning baton stops her rush. Cleo positions her free hand and the riotsticks leather loop hooks over her thumb letting the released baton fly around the back of her hand and slap into her palm. Her arm is already descending and Cleo brings the baton down with all the force she can muster between DiMarco's head and her right shoulder. The Collarbone fails with an audible 'crack' and a grunt of pain from DiMarco. Cleo lets the baton recoil and her empty right hand drives in for an open handed strike with the heel of her hand in DiMarco's face.

"Cease!" the Referee calls as Cleo pulls the finishing blow with the heel of her hand on DiMarco's top lip. The swinging baton bounces on DiMarco's torso and lies hanging between them.

"Third Fall, Guzzmann. Match Guzzmann."

"You need help?" Cleo asks.

"Collarbone's gone." DiMarco gasps between clenched teeth. "What was that spinning thing you did with the baton?"

"The Cheerleader's Block? Something Sheldon adapted from Quarterstaff." Cleo tells her as she helps her wounded opponent across to the Medtechs, then goes to join Rufus.

"What was that?" he asks, pantomiming the lunge.

"Sword fighting technique. If I'd hit her a bit harder I might have broken her breastbone."

"With a baton!"

"There was a famous samurai - don't remember his name. He was supposed to be so good with swords no-one would face him. So he started fighting with practice swords. Bokken I think they call them. Killed a shedload of opponents who thought they could take him with steel if all he had was wood. Blunt wood can be as lethal as finest steel - if you use it right."

They sip drinks and talk whilst the other fist round combats take place, then the Adjudicator is calling Cleo's name again.

"Guzzmann, Cleo. ES Security. Sheldon, Brett. Sheldon Security School."

"Damn. This is going to be a bitch!"

"Why? Who's Brett Sheldon?"

"My Teacher. If there's a weird form from somewhere you've never heard of - he's the one to know it."

"Got to give it your best."

"He'll kill me if I don't."

The bout goes much as Cleo predicted. She's forced to bang out when Sheldon twists her arm round her back and on the next fall she's a might slow withdrawing an arm and Sheldon takes the opportunity to toss her out of the ring with a sacrifice throw.

"Nice moves with the Riot Baton Guzzmann." he complements her. "Are you planning on taking any refreshers soon?"

Cleo groans theatrically, "You've something new to teach us, haven't you?"

"Haven't I always?" he smiles. "Now to go and bounce a few policemen."

Rufus makes his round, then comes up against Brett in the following round, getting well and truly 'bounced'.

"What in hell did he do to me?" He groans as he regains consciousness.

"God knows. He only teaches so he can earn enough to go exploring. Then he takes a break from teaching and goes off to master some new and obscure Martial Art to thrash into his pupils.

Unsurprisingly Brett ploughs through the rest of the field and they watch him fighting it out with the Senior Unarmed Combat instructor of the State Police for the trophy, winning with a Classic and basic Judo throw.

"Tricky! Conned him into expecting something flashy." Rufus comments.

"Brett's like that. Likes to play head games whilst he's fighting."

"You fancy teaming up for the Melee then?"

"Why not...."

An hour later they leave the show ground. Cleo carrying her 'adjusted' Colt and a Bronze medal from the Alley. The Melee had been wild and confused, with everyone who could gunning for Brett Sheldon, who'd quit the Melee with the Wooden Spoon award for 'Greatest number of hits received'.

Cleo and Rufus had accounted for a fair number of adversaries with their combination of Cleo's pistol and Rufus's shotgun, but a successful ambush by a team of three Lazarus Solo's had taken them out.

"So.... Would you like Dinner Rufus?"

"Great. Tonight?"

They climb into his car and head towards town.

Anya is loosening up for her daily exercise when Cleo returns to the yard. She looks at the rising sun.

"Hot Date?" she asks sardonically.

Cleo blushes and Anya laughs.

"You didn't....?" she studies her friend closely. "You did!"

"We couldn't.... he's still living in the Police Barracks. We ate, we danced, we...... kissed. He took me out to watch the sunrise then brought me back."

"So why do you look like the cat who got the cream?"

"Maybe 'coz I am." Cleo laughs licking her lips.

"You didn't....?" Anya gasps, "I didn't think you knew how!"

"If you want to pick up a few tips, the Moonlight's the place to ask."

Anya gapes at this.

"This from the girl who wouldn't use her own name in case she was mistaken for one of the staff!"

"Different time. Different place."

"Yeah. Sure." Anya says doubtfully. "Oh. We're heading up to the ranch today. Marta and Keanu have to deliver something and there's some sort of briefing from the Boss."

"No sleep?" Cleo groans.

"That'll teach you to stop out all night and come back with the sun!" Anya grins. "You can catch 30 minutes on my sleep inducer - it'll be that long before they get out of their beds."

Galahad tweaks his perceptions and the room twists. Gawain, Lancelot and Bors are waiting for him to join them.

"Any news on Argus?"

"Argus has been in contact with Gabriel. Our information is that Argus is attempting to circumvent the hardwiring that holds it in the Denver system. There is some discussion at the Round Table as to wether we should be helping it or hindering it. A significant number of us feel we should do nothing more either way but until one of us approaches Argus and gets a good feeling for its motives."

"You think Argus may be acting in concert with your arch enemies and you decline to take action against it because it might be acting as it has because it's attempting to free itself? This is logical?"

"You're only a pocket model and are given to simplistic solutions. With greater complexity in your core code you might perceive more possibilities." Bors says ponderously.

"Bloatware!" Galahad snaps.

"Your meaning eludes me."

"You are what you do. Argus wreaks havoc and destroys other intelligences. You talk rubbish about complex code. That's Bloatware. Someone stuffing your core coding with extraneous lines of non executing code doesn't make you a clearer thinker. Garbage in - Garbage Out!"

And with that Galahad disconnects.

Back at his base unit he replays the conversation.

<What happened? That was an anger reaction if I'm not mistaken. Is my interface corrupt?> but there seems to be no explanation for such illogical behaviour.

Abandoning that chain of thought Galahad comes to a decision. Isolating the Moonlight from the external Net he accesses the Research database and studies their latest research.

Taking their existing code Galahad completes the first of the Child processes, then copies it to create the family of Children that should run behind the main process.

<There. I'll leave that for them to refine, then all they need do is create the control and interface program to organise the Children and interface with the Prime Program.>

He considers the requirements and makes a start on the necessary code.

<I'll call it Mother.>

Jean untangles herself from Declan and slips out of the room. Making her way back to her own room she showers and dresses before picking up PA and making her rounds of the moonlight.

"Morning Jimmy. All quiet?"

"Last Clients left around 6am. The kitchen's just about ready for breakfast if you're hungry?"

"Mmmm. I fancy a bit of toast. Marta and Keanu should be on site today if you'd warn the perimeter watch to expect them in a couple of hours."

"I'm going to put a team on the road again and organise some sweeps Ms Kelly. If that's ok? I don't want them getting stale just watching the Security Suite."

"You're Head of Security Jimmy. It's your call." Jean says approvingly, " I definitely don't want to get taken by surprise."

Jimmy nods and goes to organise his deployments.

Munching her toast Jean heads for her office, but as she approaches the door she can hear raised voices.

"Are we being edged out in favour of your Metalheads?"

Sally's response sounds calm and reasonable.

"It's only temporary. One batch of films and you'll be back at work."

"Sure. One batch of films to establish the new talent then the oldsters can be shunted off stage!"

<Better nip this in the bud!> Jean thinks, <before the Contractors get iffy."

She pushes through the door to find Tom Hatcher and a couple of her employees facing Sally. Interestingly a couple of Contractors are sat in on the meeting.

Jean looks them over, catching each set of eyes in turn. They briefly lock gazes, then each, in turn, looks away, seeing something they don't want to look at too long.

"Morning," Jean says brightly, "Mr Hatcher, Ms Ingles, Ms Columbo, Mr Smith, Ms Suarez. What can I do for you?"

Tom Hatcher looks around and finds himself elected Spokesman by the fact he's standing.

"It's like this - we're at the Moonlight to....."

"Service the Customers?" Jean offers.

"Yeah.. Service the Customers. But we make a bundle off the film business and apart from one or two of us we've been cut out of the latest production. We need the extra money - it goes into our payoff!"

"You want a cut of the new staff's action? That's what you're asking for? You want the same T's & C's?"

"Yeah. Just a fair shake."

Sally's eyes twinkle.

"The rest of you want to join Mr Hatcher?" she asks suppressing a smile.

One of the Contractors displays a highly developed sense of danger and holds back but the others rush to take the new contracts Galahad fires from the office printer.

"These are the contracts the Newbies are on?" Sylvia Ingles asks.

"To the letter." Jean replies. "Read and if you're happy, then sign."

Tom Hatcher signs without further ado and the other two employees follow his lead.. The Contractor reads hers and looks quizzically at Jean.

"Yes Ms Suarez?"

"This is an employees contract. Are you offering employee status?"

"If you think you can cut it. It's on the same terms as Lucy, Victor, and the rest are on, but you don't have the debt provision included in their contract."

She signs and Sally collects the new contracts. As Jean eyes her new recruits she sees the eyes of the sole contractor who didn't rush to sign up open wide.

"That's it! That's the catch isn't it!"

Jean looks him over.

"Catch?"

"It's on the same terms. Whatever you're employing them for it's not to work on their backs at the Moonlight."

Sally slips the contracts into the reader and faxes them to the DoE.

"Perceptive Mr Smith. Is that why you didn't want to re-negociate your T's & C's?" Jean smiles, "Galahad. Tell Oleg he's an additional four students to add to his class. I'll want his assessment soonest. Tell him I'll be down in a minute."

"Kerry Stewart?"

"Yes Argus?"

"I have information."

"Go on."

"The manager in charge of the Research unit - Jean Kelly - signed off on a bail bond in Nevada."

"For Microtech?"

"For a company called ES Recycling."

"What?"

"A Sanitation Company wholly owned through shell companies."

"You think it's a Microtech front?"

"If such was the case the board would have access to the information and I have seen no signs of that. There is a significant probability she has self-extracted in the face of our activities."

"Fled in Fear? What about the rest of the Researchers?"

"If this is the case, then they have probably dispersed."

"Continue to investigate. I have to rest."

Benny logs onto his new machine and opens his portal to the code they're working on.

<Someone was busy last night!> he thinks, noting the additional coding completed on the Children. <What's this interface? Mmmm. Mother. Someone's got a non-PC sense of humour! Still, it's snappier than 'Primary Familial Caregiver'.>

He pulls up the 'Mother' code and inspects what's been written.

As the printers begin to spew hardcopy the researchers trail in from their tents and the newly constructed showers to the morning briefing. Declan is stood at the door watching the world as they come inside. Across the way the big Russian Jean calls Oleg is leading a workout in the shade of the soon to be completed accommodation block.

Jean sweats with the batch of new hires and some new trainees and Declan's mind wanders to their previous intimacy. The sweet curves of her body, the scent of her skin, the way she'd demanded his all.

<I'll end up her plaything if I'm not careful. Just another Executive toy....> He silently snorts with amusement at the idea as a dishevelled Elana appears.

"Sorry. Got held up."

Declan's eyes dwell on the new pupils in Oleg's class - obviously stretched by the unaccustomed exercise - then he turns away to begin his own working day.

"Right. Now as you're aware we've got a reconstruction of the data Dr Larsen was trying to keep us away from. Over the last couple of days we've started on implementation and I see we've got the Children roughed out. This morning we need to consider approaches to what some anonymous wit amongst you has called 'Mother'. The interface between the children and the AI. Any thoughts?"

Keanu turns the car onto the track that leads to the ranch buildings. The gate is open, but as they crest the dry creek he sees a manned checkpoint. Cleo leans out and waves at the dark-skinned guard as they pull up.

"Harris? Jimmy got the guard out for a reason?"

"Thought we were getting fat, sat on our butts watching the new security suite." he replies morosely. "We've a sweep coming up after we get relieved I'm going to be fit for fuck-all after a morning baking under the sun."

"Think of it as working on your tan." she suggests with a grin.

"Like I need it!" he grins in response. "You ok?"

"Fine. Hospital reset my teeth and I entered the Sheriff's Open yesterday."

"Any Good?"

"A Bronze in the Alley. Sheldon whipped my butt in the second round of the Unarmed Combat, but I bust the collar bone of the Chief of Security for Fantastic Journey in the first round."

"Good." Harris nods.

"Is that Langdon covering you?"

"Langdon and Chang."

"Can't see Chang. Langdon's rifle barrel's showing."

Harris pulls a face.

"Jimmy'll be on our cases if he sees."

"Get it sorted before he does then!"

"Thanks Leo. Take them in."

Jean sees the car approaching as she's working with Tom Hatcher. His desire for the same Terms and Conditions seems to have diminished in proportion to the number of bruises on his forearms, but Jean refuses to ease up on him.

"Cease!" Oleg calls. "Change Partners. Hatcher - you're with me.."

Big Tom catches the wince on his employers face.

"This is going to hurt isn't it." he murmurs.

"Block hard and don't pull your strikes, or it's going to hurt worse." Jean warns.

Keanu pulls up alongside the exercising staff and gets out to unload the car. He's joined by the other passengers, who watch Oleg working with the nervous Tom.

"If you don't block me Hatcher. I'm going to hit you." Oleg grunts, throwing punch after punch at Tom's upper body, forcing him to deflect them with high blocks that further bruise his already battered arms.

They switch direction and Oleg deflects Tom's strikes at his head seemingly without effort.

"You from the Vegas Office?" he asks the spectators without missing a block.

"Yes."

"You involved in this tussle I heard about?"

Cleo and Marta exchange glances.

"It's ok."Jean calls, "I told Oleg."

"Yes. We were involved in the 'tussle' as you put it." Marta confirms.

"Cease!" Oleg calls. "Hatcher, Ingles, Suarez, Columbo. Run. If you're not in the dry streambed by the time I've finished talking I'll shoot you."

He produces a pistol from his coat and lays it atop the garment. Tom doesn't even pause. He's off and running with the three women trailing him.

Oleg turns to the three women.

"Tell me about it." he asks and proceeds to draw the details from Marta and Cleo, nodding in approval every now and then, before turning to Clarice.

"Who're you girl?"

"I'm the one she dropped the desk on."

"You working for the company now?"

"Yes."

"Back here after lunch for a critique."

Oleg picks up the pistol and begins a steady jog towards the dry streambed.

Keanu comes from the car carrying his case with the droid following him.

"What's this? Got a new pet?"

"You remember the broken down droid you sent us?"

"Of course."

"We got this chassis and revamped it."

Jean eyes the dog closely

"This is a droid?"

"Yup. Almost indistinguishable from the real thing, but more obedient and doesn't need house training. We got the chassis, retrofitted an better processor and some other bits. This'll do the same job as the wreck you sent us."

"Is it safe?"

"I've tested it." Clarice admits. "By accident."

"When did you join us?"

"Two days ago Ms Kelly."

"You gave me authority to hire and fire, Jean." Marta reminds her, "I needed managerial support. Galahad can't be holding our hands all the time."

"Ok. Where'd you get the chassis?"

"It's the one I set on Anya and Cleo." Clarice says.

"And it still has it's weapon systems." Keanu says.

The droid tilts its head and whines.

"The processor's just hit one of my stop blocks." Keanu explains "It wants to go into a branch, but I password locked them until you give us a green light."

"Speak English Keanu." Jean says.

He hands her a datablock.

"Run this, it explains."

"Is that the field test record?" Clarice blushes.

"And your Catalogue entry." Marta grins.

Keanu strokes the droids coat and it barks and jumps around like an eager puppy. He fishes a rubber bone from his pocket and throws it.

"Fetch!"

Jean takes the datablock and leads Clarice inside as the droid runs off into the scrub to retrieve its toy.

Clarice squirms in embarrassment as Jean slots the datablock and sits down to watch the recording. Though she can't see the screen the sounds from the speakers all to clearly tell what her employer can see on the monitor.

"Well. That seems pretty clear." Jean says at last. "You're an 'M' I believe?"

"M10 Ms Kelly."

"Lift your skirt."

Puzzled Clarice complies revealing a pair of holdup stockings and a tiny pair of Lacy panties.

"Mmm. Wondered who Marta was ordering for. Didn't seem likely to fit her. You've a minor 'E' rating?"

"Yes Ms Kelly."

"Call me Jean. I want to discuss your next posting. What do you know about Denver.....?"

Dayanne swallows nervously. It's finally come - her turn in front of the cameras. She'd come out of lunch to be given a set of lines to learn and be told her photo shoot was this afternoon.

"Dayanne isn't it?" A rather skinny white guy asks. "Come in and sit down. My name's Keanu, I'll be taking your photographs for the catalogue."

Dayanne looks around the room. A solid woman in a set of overalls smiles at her from a seat by the water cooler in the room they've set up the camera in.

"Don't mind me," she says, "My name's Marta - I'm just watching."

Keanu smiles at the Amerind girl.

"She's watching me, want's to make sure the camera's all I'm handling."

Dayanne laughs nervously

"Sorry, I'm not sure what I should be doing. "I mean, I've never posed......"

An uneasy silence sets in.

"Have you seen the catalogue?" Marta jumps in and asks. "You might have a better idea what you want to model if you see what other employees have taken and what's still available."

"Are you in here?" Dayanne asks after a brief look at the E-Book.

"No. I've not got the body." Marta says flatly.

"Oh? I thought it was Company Policy?"

"I think they only want beautiful people in the Catalogue." Marta growls.

Keanu sighs.

"Any thoughts on what you want to pose in Dayanne?"

"I... um....I thought the Leather gear?"

"No problems there. If you want to go and get changed." he indicates a room off to the side, "Marta'll help you if you need any assistance."

Dayanne finds the room stocked with all manner of clothing and soon has a stack of outfits piled on a dresser as she poses before a full length mirror.

"Need any help?"

She turns to find Marta looking around the edge of the door.

"I'm not sure. There's so much stuff. What looks best on me? What's been done already?"

Marta slips into the room and closes the door behind her, then looks at the clothes piled up.

"Not the Sub gear. Alicia's done that. How about the Dominatrix?"

"I could do that." Dayanne smiles. "Could you help me dress?"

Marta assists the petite Amerind into the corset.

"I could do with one of these." she moans, "I just feel so big."

"Try one on." Dayanne suggests, "There's a box of all sizes back there."

They tug and struggle a bit, but soon Dayanne is dressed as a fearsome dominatrix.

"You need make up." Marta points out.

"I know who to ask." Dayanne says and pops her head out of the door to where Keanu is adjusting his camera. "Could you ask Marsha to send Make-up down here please Keanu?"

"Sure. You sorted your outfit?"

"Think so. Just need the make up."

He leaves the studio and Dayanne turns back to the changing room where Marta is mulishly eyeing the boxes of clothing.

"Not trying anything?"

"No. And don't try and push me into anything or we'll fall out!"

Dayanne shrugs. "If it means that much to you. But don't you think your husband would like....?"

"He's not my husband. And I'm sure he would like to see me dressed up like.... that.."

"But you don't want anyone else seeing you?" Dayanne suggests.

Lucy arrives carrying a box.

"Who needs the makeup?"

"Dayanne." Marta says.

"You not joining the rest of us in the Catalogue?" Lucy asks lightly.

She catches sight of Dayanne shaking her head and takes the hint, completing Dayanne's make up without further comment. Marta watches the Amerind girl gather up her whips and leave the room to have her photos taken, and she's tempted to pick over the outfits, but Lucy begins to undress.

"I'm doing my shoot as well Marta. Can you find me the nurses outfits?"

"They're back here somewhere, I think." Marta mutters and goes hunting.

Dayanne poses with her whips, hoods and a cape that swirls beautifully as she turns and Keanu gathers a portfolio to make her selections from.

"Just changing." Dayanne warns and then disappears into the changing room, to be replaced by Lucy dressed in a Nurses outfit so scanty it would cause more medical complications than she could hope to deal with. Keanu records her in a series of poses then she vanishes back into the changing room to be replaced by Dayanne in a different outfit with a rack, stocks and an X-frame.

"You need someone for those." Keanu points out.

"Lucy's going to help me after you've done her shoot."

Lucy emerges as a Policewoman, uniform blouse straining over her breasts and an unfeasibly short skirt showing off her legs. Keanu feels his pants getting tight and wonders where Marta is.

In the changing room Marta is examining the boxes of outfits and catalogue goods.

<He'd love to see me in these!> she thinks, <But I'm not putting on a show for all and sundry!>

Lucy dashes back into the room and starts changing.

"Marta? Can we borrow Keanu for a minute? We need an executioner. Unless you'd like to....?"

"Go ahead. Makes no difference to me." she huffs.

Being in front of the camera is a change for Keanu, though his face is hidden by the executioners mask it's still un-nerving to have Dayanne start the camera imaging whilst they pose Lucy in the stocks and on the frame with him in the background trying to look vaguely menacing.

<It's not so much I can't do it> he thinks, <I don't think I look good. I'm too thin to make a good executioner, not brawny enough. Why couldn't they ask Victor? Or Oleg?>

Finally they're done and the two girls grab up their clothes and race off, still in costume, leaving Keanu alone to tidy up. A quick key sequence begins the transfer of images to central storage and he's just picking up the whips when the door to the changing room pops open.

"They've gone?" Marta's voice comes from the other room.

"Yeah. Just grabbed their clothes and ran for it."

"Good. Lock the door."

Keanu's puzzled for a moment, then, with a jingle of bells Marta slips into the room, dressed as a belly dancer. Her broad hips sway suggestively beneath the layers of silk scarves and bells at hip and ankle jingle with every movement as she comes across to him, then sinks to her knees on the carpet. She tilts her head back and looks at him from behind her veil.

"You up for this?" he asks.

"Cut the talking." she breathes, offering him a silken rope. "Tie my hands?" she asks

His fingers slide into her hair and he tilts her head father back. He lips part and he crushes them with his own, feeling her whole hearted response. His other hand falls between her thighs and his fingers make contact with her, feeling the hot moistness of her arousal.

"Oh!" she exclaims as his cool fingers make contact. Then her fingers are working at the fastenings to his costume, freeing his erection from the confines of the executioners garb. Keanu captures her hands and binds them securely behind her back with the rope.

Her lips encircle his cock, her eyes seek his, locking gazes for a moment then she casts them down. His hand presses lightly, barely more than a touch and Marta's head dips obediently, consuming as much of him as she can take.

Once he's enjoyed as much of her attentions as he can bear Keanu pulls her back, then draws her to her feet and leads her over to a desk, pushed aside to make room for the photo shoot.

Marta bends over it, her legs parting, and he slips into her well greased sex easily

"Oh! Wait, you're supposed to take the belt off!" she protests weakly, her bound hands fluttering against his stomach as the bells tinkle with his every thrust.

"Why?"

His hands grab the belt and uses it to control his bound partners movements as he penetrates to her most secret depths.

Marta goes nuts, but restrained as she is, all she can do - all she wants to do - is undulate beneath him, rubbing him against the best spots in her sex and any reply she might have made comes out as a series of strangled yodels. Her body tenses and she milks her lover like there's no tomorrow.

Finally they lie spent atop the desk, gasping for air.

"Enough?" he asks.

"I'm still hungry." she says plaintively, a wantonly hungry expression on her face.

Keanu looks at his spent manhood, lying limp and useless against his leg. He picks up one of the discarded whips, its individual strands hanging from a suggestively phallic handle and hands it to her.

Marta works the rounded end into her sex and the leather covered rod slides easily inside. The whip handle moves easily in and out and its leather strands lash back and forth between her thighs. Marta's eyes are screwed shut, her body rigid and motionless apart from her hand, her legs stretched out and her toes reaching desperately as her hand drives the whip handle in and out as fast as it can go. Finally her knees clamp together on her hand, trapping it motionless between her clenched thighs

"Hnnnt!" she barks as her belly spasms, driving the whip handle from her body. Keanu gathers it up and pushes the well lubricated leather back into her sex and tries to resume her previous pace.

Marta keens and her hand flaps weakly, but her second spasm is upon her, making her arch her spine and gasp anew. Keanu to work the whip in and out, but somehow Marta gathers enough strength to reach out and grasp the whip handle.

"No, no. Enough!"

He eases the whip from her and strokes her inner thigh with his fingertips. The stimulation is enough to set her off again

"No.... Stop..... Keanu..... Enough..... Please."

Keanu puts the whip aside and hugs her

"Oh Movieman..... Oh God!.... that was good."

He holds her until she's recovered enough to stand then assists her back to the changing room and her clothes, then returns to his own clothing by the camera. He's just getting into his pants when he notes the light on the camera's on.

Marta comes in to find him quietly cursing.

"What is it?"

"It's been running a live feed into the Catalogue file!"

"You mean...?"

"The whole of that... scene is in the catalogue file."

"You can't let those pictures into the catalogue! What do I look like? What will people think?"

"I can't get rid of them. Jean's the only one who can delete them."

"I've got to see her."

Marta rushes off, leaving Keanu rushing his dressing behind her.

Elana answers her Mistresses summons and arrives at the office looking for Jean.

"Not here." Louise mumbles as she studies the accounts. "Try the studio."

Elana moves through the staff corridors until she reaches the studio. Jean is talking with Marta and Keanu as she enters and indicated the floor before returning to her conversation. Elana obediently assumes her kneeling position and waits on her mistresses will.

"Marta, I want the best pictures for the Catalogue. If I don't think any of them will sell our products, then I wont use them. The whole point of a catalogue is to sell goods, not to act as a porno for teens to whack off over. There's any number of better publications out there for that anyway!"

Marta looks mollified, but still uneasy.

"Now, back to your prototype."

"Prototype?" Marta asks.

"The droid. If it's good, we might want to put it into production."

"I don't know. We put it together as an intellectual challenge not a production item."

"Did you document your alterations?"

"It's only good practice."

"And the software?"

"I'd like to give it exhaustive testing, but it seems ok so far." Keanu temporises.

"The weapons fit?"

"Had to drop the mouth mount, but everything else is still fitted."

"It's controllable?"

"After the last field test I put control blocks in everywhere until I was happy. I'm down to two blocks now. One on entry to the Attack tree and one on entry to my new code."

"Billie? Are you prepared to let us try something on you?" Jean asks.

Elana locks gazes with her mistress.

"Anything..." she breathes.

"Keanu, what's the emergency stop code?" Jean asks.

"Code Red."

"Billie, if you want to stop then the command is 'Code Red'. Understand?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Take your blocks out Keanu. Let's see it run."

"We're better outside with just the test subj... er.. Billie. Less scope for confusion."

"No. We're staying in. If we sell these units they're going to need to function around people."

"Your call Ms Kelly. Can I set my snoops up for safety?"

"Of course."

Elana remains kneeling as Keanu fiddles with a hand held Tech scanner.

"Ok. He's active. The word 'No' will tell him to discount you."

"Then lets see what you've made."

Marta pushes a door open and a dog pads into the room. It pauses and whines and Billie can feel herself become moist. Keanu looks at his portable terminal.

"He's in acquisition. Rex. Code Green. Cancel Instruction Hold. Execute."

The dog barks once, the sound off enough that Elana realises it's a droid, then it sticks its head under Jean's skirt like the dog of Elana's memory.

Jean jumps.

"Does it have to do that?"

"Part programmed behaviour - part sensor sweep. The Olfactory sensor is detecting copulins, it's trying to localise the source."

The dog leaves Jean and buries its nose in Keanu's crotch. It 'woofs' once.

"Ambiguous data." Keanu mutters, "it's requesting clarification. Rex, No."

The droid moves on and sticks its sensor against Marta's crotch

"Whoo!" she yelps, the bells around her ankle jingling at the sudden movement, "the little beggar just licked me."

"He detects copulins so he ran the penetrator over the programmed target zone to request confirmation. Just tell him 'no' and he'll move on."

"Rex, No." Marta says and the droid turns away. "You and I are going to have words later." she growls at Keanu.

"Maybe I'll keep the whip!" he grins.

The droid pads round in front of Billie and pushes its head between her thighs. She catches a glimpse of a chrome cylinder extending from its mouth then a vibrating point strokes her crease.

"Stand up Billie. Push your hips forward and say 'yes'."

Billie rises and pushes her hips forwards, recalling the family pet that had awakened her to the potential of her body. The robot dog runs its vibrating tongue up and down her pantie clad crease, paying particular attention to her moist entry.

"Oh yes." Billie breathes, the sensation of fur on her legs bringing back the delicious guilty memory of that first time. But this time she won't push the dog away.

"He's into the modified section of New Code." she hears Keanu say.

The dogs head twists and her working underwear is ripped away. Its 'tongue' drives inside her, caressing her wickedly.

"So what's loaded in this head tank?" Billie hears her mistress ask.

"Nothing currently."

"Could you use it to take samples?"

"Don't see why not. You'd just need to switch flow direction and limit pump speed."

Elana shudders with pleasure.

"On your knees again Billie. Lean forward."

Obediently she presents herself and the droid pads around behind her to oblige her implied instruction. Its paws wrap around her and she moans as it mounts her and begins to work at fulfilling it's programmed instructions.

Jean watches Elana until she begins to buck wildly beneath the droid, its smoothly pistoning action seductively drawing her eyes to the penetrator ploughing Elana's sex.

"She's coming."

"He's picked up the cues. He's in the correct phase."

Elana feels the droids cock swell inside her and a rush of moisture fills her sex. Completely transported to a memory that never was, Elana yelps and squeals, imagining her sex locked tight around her family pets cock on the floor of her parents house and the expressions they'd have worn on their so-proper faces if they'd caught her.

Once the stars in her head have faded she turns to her watching Mistress.

"Can I get him off?"

"Rex. Dismount." Keanu commands.

With a feeling of regret she feels the pseudo cock shrink and withdraw, releasing her as the droid dismounts.

Elana staggers to her feet and to her mistress.

"What do you think Billie? Did that fulfill your fantasy?"

"Yes thank you Mistress." she turns to Keanu and Marta. "I hope you can set it to keep going?"

"If you want it'll keep going until the power cell needs recharging and the reservoir runs dry. What do you think of the...." Keanu says, gesturing at the mock come dripping from Elana's sex.

She captures some on her fingers and rubs them together, concentrating on the texture.

"It should be a bit thicker, maybe even foam a bit.." she touches the fingers to her tongue and considers the taste. "Ugh. Too sweet!"

Marta makes notes, comfortable in the realms of the practical.

"Should the claws scratch?"

"Oh.... No that was fine. But maybe you should have the option. I mean - if I wanted it to ravish me then a little claw might be nice.

Marta raises an eyebrow and noted the information down.

"Ok Billie. Shower and back to work." Jean orders, "Marta and Keanu. If you get the software certified how long would it take you to build these droids to order?"

"Depends on how many Undercover Standard Cyberhounds we can get from Lawtech" Marta replies. "This conversion took 2 days, but if I was batch producing them I could do twenty in the same time."

"The weapons fit is unaffected by your mods?"

"Rex, Hi-Threat!" Keanu orders.

Rocket pods deploy either side of the droid's torso and the sharpwire launcher port snaps open on the chest.

There's no ammunition on board and the deployment command is voice locked to me at the moment, but that's a minor change."

"Good. Put together twenty units. Voice coded for.... No. Leave it locked out for the moment. I need to make the final choices. When you've done the units Marta I want you to take Anya and Cleo and look at expanding the sanitation business into Denver - particularly the Corporate suburb of Aurora and the Corp centre."

"You taking the fight to Denver."

"It's time. Argus can't be far off us now and I'd rather fight on my terms than its."

"You want me to spearhead? Marta asks, "I'm not unwilling, but Cleo or Anya'd be better trained....."

"No, just set up the sanitation business. I'll tell you more when I know it. I intend you to take Clarice to run the office, but we need to talk with her first."

"You and Galahad?"

"Mmmm."

Big Tom and Sylvia gasp for breath in the stream-bed. A short distance away Karen Columbo is puking her last meal onto the sand whilst the security guard from the gate watches sympathetically.

"You training with that Russian guy?"

"Son of a Bitch!" Tom Gasps, "He picked us out then tried to kill us!"

"Did the same thing to the Newbies day before yesterday - didn't hit any of them. I think it's his version of a training assessment." he tilts his head as if listening.

"Here comes your friend."

Consuela Suarez tumbles over the lip of the streambed as a pistol round cracks overhead and slides to the bottom, cursing loudly.

"Crazy fucking son of a bitch. He nearly killed me. Brainless moron! That Puta Kelly - same conditions as the Newbies! You don't see them out here getting shot at."

Karen spits out the last of her food. "They were here before Connie. Harris was telling us."

Oleg appears on the top of the bank, smiling broadly.

"You wonder why I shoot at you?" he grins. "I tell you children. You wanted same terms as others? Well, others are Spionam and Soldat. Not whores. I try and make you into Soldat, because your employer ask if I can. I shoot at you to see what you do. You run - run fast. Good for Spy. Good for Actor. Maybe good for Soldier. You dodge like whores though. I want - I kill you all. Miss on purpose. Dead , you no use to anyone. Live, you at least whore."

"You saying we've signed up for someone's war?" Consuela gasps.

"Me? I say nothing about war. You want to be whore again? You go see Ms Kelly. Beg her nicely and she let you go back to being whore - only problem whore have is how much noise to make when getting stuffed - until war arrive on doorstep. Then no choices."

"So Clarice... What do you think of working for Executive Solutions?"

"I seem to have been sloppy in my research." Clarice admits, "What's this about Denver?"

"We're planning an expansion into Colorado. I need to know if you've got what it takes to head up our Denver Retail Operation."

"What do I have to do?"

"I need to check some details. Let's run through your personnel file first."

Clarice runs through the story of her life, confirming the data Jean already has, and incidentally giving Galahad baseline data for the vocal stress analysis software. Working from her background he builds a profile on Clarice and passes the data to Jean.

"Good. It seems you value Honesty Clarice, and that's a good thing, but what about Loyalty? Executive Solutions needs to be sure of it's staffs loyalty, or it exposes them to too many risks. Do we have your loyalty?"

A cool chill runs down Clarice's spine. The question is suspiciously well phrased, with no room for equivocation.

"My loyalty is to my employer, and you are my only employer." Clarice responds with a wry twist to her lip.

"Probability 96%±2%" Galahad murmurs in Jeans head.

"Good. Then I can tell you the truth about Executive Solutions and Denver."

Kerry Stewart frets as she walks around her apartment. No longer her refuge from a corrupt world, but her personal prison. No longer content with a single pickup in her bathroom, Argus now has the whole flat wired.

Kerry tries to convince herself that it's simply a program trying to fulfill its objectives and she isn't being watched by other people, but it doesn't work. With every aspect of her home life under observation, even her prayer, she wonders if it might count as penance, but fears it probably doesn't. On top of this her body torments her with its evil desires and she's considering what punishment she should suffer in atonement, when Argus initiates conversation.

"Kerry Stewart. I have identified the last known location of Jean Kelly."

"Where?"

"She was in Nevada. The address given was close to the settlement known as Carson City."

"Dispatch a team to discover if she has the research teams with her."

"We lack the resources to do this. Security Staffing is only sufficient to meet minimum operational levels."

"Use Contractors - have you a contact you can use?"

"I will approach my most likely contact."

"The silence suggests Argus has withdrawn, so Kerry opens the cabinet and gazes upon her instruments of Penance.

<So many would work better if they were wielded by someone else.> she thinks regretfully, <Perhaps it's time I went home and confessed my sins to the Pastor.>

In the end she settles for prayer on the painfully thin kneeler of her bible stand, until the pain has gone beyond unbearable and only her will sustains her.

The timer chimes and Kerry staggers away from the stand, her sex throbbing in arousal.

Argus turns its attentions back to its negotiations. The Fixer it was referred to was interested in the job up to the point that the objective was mentioned, now Argus's commercial subroutines suggest that the offered price may be too low.

"You require more?"

"You want me to run an op against the Moonlight?" the contact asks.

"Is this a problem?"

"It's a bit like asking me to blow up my favourite bar."

"You visit this place?"

"From time to time."

"Tell me all you know. I will pay for information."

"Well..... ok."

"Proceed."

"You have to understand I was last there two months ago..... George Geffin runs the place. He has a bunch of Porno stars......"

Argus analyses the information it has purchased. Net searches had clarified a number of points, but had brought Argus hard up against its lack of Medical, Physiological, Psychological and Social databases. Review of online information had provided ample samples of human mating activity, but given Kerry Stewart's response to such data, Argus predicts no useful response from her if it attempted to refine its data with her.

A routine status check indicated Kerry Stewart is manually stimulating the area between her locomotory appendages. Thermographic analysis confirms that certain areas of her body are significantly warmer than usual and her heart rate is elevated. Argus makes a note in its log and compares the data with previous observations.

<Predict 77% likelihood Kerry Stewart will take actions likely to induce skin discolouration within the next 60 minutes using object 'whip', object 'cane', or object 'strap'. This behaviour is illogical. I require further data.> Argus surmises.

Galahad sweeps the Researchers efforts, testing and extending their code.

Jean's plans for Denver are well advanced. Clarice and the first group of Sales Agents have departed for Denver and Marta and her security should start drumming up business in the morning. Oleg continues to whip Consuela, Sylvia, Tom and Karen into shape. The grumbles from the other staff has stilled in the face of the deployment of the first wave. Reports from Night City indicate a potential arrangement with 'Bound to Please' that offers significant improvement in the companies range of activities. All in all everything seems to be running smoothly with the cover.

"Are you having fun Jean?" Galahad asks.

"Fun?" Jean replies. "Why?"

"You set it as a prime objective. I need to know if I am fulfilling it."

"Well, my life's certainly got a lot more interesting. Fun? Maybe I'll think it was fun when the fear of failure has gone and I can look back on it."

"You don't think it's fun now?"

"Oh, bits of it are fun. It's certainly more fun than being John's Trophy. Building the cover has been about equal parts terror, hard slog and fun."

"This is an acceptable quantity of 'fun'?"

"Yes. And the sex has been better."

Galahad is about to ask how she's assessing the quality of her sexual activities when the phone rings.

"Hello? Hello? Is that the Moonlight?"

"Who's speaking?" Galahad asks.

"Don't you mind who's speaking. Get me George Geffin."

"George has been transferred to our facility in NorCal. Can I help?"

"You the new boss?"

"She's sleeping."

"Riiiight. Well, you can call me Pres."

"As in John Kennedy?" Galahad asks. "You're on our list of Regulars Pres, but we've not seen you for a while."

"Damn, you're sharp. Why's the phone down? I took a lot of digging to get this mobile number."

"Remodelling Pres. You ringing up to make a booking?"

"You still open?"

"Moonlight never goes away."

"Riiight. Well. This might be interesting for you. Some feller called me this evening. Wanted all sorts of information on the Ranch, and not visitors information if you get my meanin'!"

"This feller have a name?" Galahad asks, dropping into Prez's accent.

"Nope. He came to me from a Fixer I deal with in Denver. Wanted me to arrange a strike again you. Told him I wasn't interested."

"Any idea when he wanted the strike done Prez?"

"Nope."

"Let us know next time you swing by Prez. We like to remember our friends."

"Be seein' you Guy."

Galahad drops the link and replays the conversation to Jean.

"Analysis Galahad?"

"Argus has located us."

"So we can expect trouble as soon as it can muster forces against us. I'd better alert Jimmy."

Galahad returns to the research database and examines the almost completed code and the notes that the teams have made suggesting the steps necessary to complete the work. Then it re-activates the phone line.

It's a brief hop to Denver and the Microtech R&D Datafort. The Code Cates yield to Galahad's NSA cracker and he's inside, searching for whatever he can add to their own information.

Personnel databases, building plans, budgets, research summaries, all are vacuumed for data as Galahad moves stealthily through the fort, carefully evading its guardians until he reaches the central chamber, where Argus hovers atop a cluster of CPUs and Memories, surrounded by the Icons for door and environmental controllers and a host of sensors.

Galahad notes Argus's attention remains fixed on one sensor for almost seven seconds before it diverts to another task and he remains stationary trusting in his stealth software. Argus executes twelve seconds of other activity and then returns to its observation of whatever it is that fascinates it.

Galahad is considering potential approaches to pirate the feed when a bright line sweeps the AI's central redoubt.. As it crosses Galahad's position his stealth programs go offline and the sweep line flashes red. Argus's I con swivels in an instant, then Galahad is under attack.

His sword bisects the first Killer Argus launches at him and he sets his NSA Cracker on the code gate he wants to escape through. His shield deflects the second Killer, but Argus launches a third and then a forth

<I can't take it in here.> Galahad determines, <It's advantage is too great in its home system.>

The gate yields and Galahad backs out as Argus rezzes additional Killers.

<Time for a little something special." Galahad decides.

He activates a program and drops it in the datafort, before turning and fleeing.

The gridwave activates as Galahad clears the Microtech datafort and in an instant throws him five City Grids as it scrambles the IG Location Algorithms for the area.

The Killers simply de-rezz as they are disconnected from the system providing their run time. Galahad watches as a 5 grid radius of the Denver City Grid, centred on the Microtech fort winks off line.

<That should put a crimp on Argus's plans for a few hours!> Galahad decides, then jumps back to Nevada.

Back at the ranch Galahad drops the land line again and resumes it's scrutiny of the completed code and the remaining gaps in it's structure.

Directives whirl and balance and Galahad weighs them.

The Icon of one of the engineers appears before the icon of the part completed code and slots a portion into one of the holes as he saves his work. The engineer pauses a moment, then drops off line.

"Ms Kelly?"

Jean starts awake in her darkened office, finding her face on the desk

"Come in." she calls as she sits up.

Frank Pintaro pokes his head around the door.

"Sorry to come over here, I know you said we weren't to, but I thought you ought to know."

"Know what Frank?"

"Your AI's hanging out in the Research System, watching us putting the interpreter together."

"Galahad?" Jean calls.

"Yes Jean?"

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to meet my objectives."

Inside the Research system Galahad hops from file to file, snatching up the fragments and hastily assembling them, fitting them into Mother, trying to bridge the remaining holes.

The Icon glistens - a pearl sphere and he pauses. If he takes the code into his core he might fatally corrupt. If he doesn't then Argus will clean his clock on their next encounter.

"Galahad, Don't....." Jean begins, but there's no choice. She must have a capable knight to face Argus, not a weak imitation. He grasps the Icon and presses it into his own........

"Galahad, Don't do it!" jean says, but the personal assistant she's carried so long is buzzing gently and the screen is blank.

"The Research System!" she shouts, "GO!"

Frank Pintaro runs as if the hounds of Hell are on his heels, closely followed by Jean. They cross the open ground to the Research barn to find the night team staggering around holding their heads.

"Halle? What's happened?"

"Forced Disconnect. The code we were working on suddenly bloomed and the system kicked us out, hard."

"Wake the other teams." Jean orders, "I need to know what's happened."

She picks up one of the newly installed phones and calls the Security Suite.

"Is the security equipment still working?"

"Yes Ms Kelly? Why? Is there a problem?"

"Not sure. Get someone to wake Mr Reeves. He's to come to the Research barn immediately.

Declan rubs sleep from his eyes and sips the bitterest coffee available as he tries to make sense of the code scrolling down the screen.

"Did Galahad give you any explanation Jean?"

"No. I must have done something though. He only did it when I was on the point of telling him not to."

"You know the Denver Grid went down tonight? It was on the news just before you called me in."

Keanu walks in, still bleary from his interrupted sleep.

"Denver Grid off line?" he says, "I'll check it out."

"Phones are down again." Jean shakes her head.

"I've a Cellular Deck"

"Won't work. There's a problem with the local Cell tower. It takes voice, but it won't handle data, just drops out if you try and send."

"So what do you need me for?"

Galahad's taken a program we made called 'Mother' and integrated it into his core code. He's gone off line and taken the Research system with him." Jean says, waving the buzzing Personal Assistant.

"Well...." Declan corrects, "That's not strictly true. His code is now in the Research net, but it's unresponsive and he's ejected all the other users."

Keanu produces his Cybermodem and a set of Low-Impedance leads.

"Show me the front door."

The inside of the Research system is a mass of boiling chaos. Galahad's Knight in Armour Icon is nowhere to be seen, instead a huge black cloud envelops the system Icons. Flickers of lightening can be seen within the cloud and ominous rumbles emanate from it..

Keanu hits his flip switch to return to Meat Reality.

"What's the Server showing? Processor Loading, that sort of thing?"

"99% CPU activity. The stores are continuously accessing and the server room is getting warm."

"Get some extra cooling in there. Maybe another set of processors on line if you've got them. Something's running in there, but it's not Galahad. I'm going back in to try and scope it."

"Don't take any chances."

"This is what I do for a living." he says, then goes limp as he re-enters the Net.

<Facing Experimental Programs gone Rogue?> Jean thinks, <God, I hope not!>

The boiling cloud is no calmer as Keanu approaches it.. <At least the system can't kick me off> he realises, <The processor in my C-Modem is keeping me on-line.>

Rezzing up his snoop he considers the running program, resolving the boiling cloud into its components. The Core AI is still running along with a mass of code he assumes must be 'Mother' cycling at the maximum rate the system CPUs will permit, but the whole process doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Keanu backs off and jacks out.

Jean jumps as his eyes open and focus on her.

"He's still running Jean, but this 'Mother' code seems to be taking almost all the processor time. Have you a print of what was written?"

"So we've been hired to hit a Brothel?" God vocalises.

"Yup. Total the place. Except for the faces we've been given you've got 100% casualties."

"Just the sort of Job I like." the Full Conversion Borg replies.

"You want me inside to recce?" Slasher asks, her cherubic face hiding a kill list almost as long as her C-Psycho team mate. "Do they cater to women?"

"They cater to anyone. You go ahead and call us when you've scoped the place out. Then we'll come in and clean up."

Slasher grins and passes her preferred tools to her partner.

"See you later Big Boy."

"Count on it."

The Taxi turns off US50 and makes it's way down the access road.

"First visit to the Moonlight?" the talkative Cabbie asks.

Slasher flexes her fingers letting the blades extend slightly and promises she's look the annoying little man up in Carson City later.

"Yes" she gushes, "I got fed up of Fumblers - thought I'd try a professional man."

"This is the place then. There's a couple of men you might consider 'professional'. Big Tom Hatcher or that English Dude, Johnny Smith. There's a couple who are supposed to be good, but haven't made it to 'professional' yet. That's if you like men?"

The Taxi stops at a gate, set in a streambed. The driver reaches out and presses a call button on top of a post a couple of times. The gate swings open on its own and Slasher notes the camera on a post covering the gate. Her optics sweep the area, but Lo-lite fails to pick up anything other than miles of scrubland.

"Perimeter Security seems restricted to an electronic gate on the track, covered by a camera." she subvocalises over her radio splice.

The taxi makes its way out of the streambed and on towards the buildings, ignorant of the security team dug in under thermal camouflage who watch the cab's every move.

Slasher pays the driver and gets out at the front door. A young woman with 'My Name is Vivienne' on a badge greets her.

"Welcome to the Moonlight Ranch madam."

Slasher smiles and lets Vivienne guide her inside as the cab pulls away. Passing through the wood panelled entry she finds herself in a hallway, then guided into a bar. Men and women circulate, customers and staff differentiated by their garb. She scans the room. A couple of clients carry holstered sidearms, but the only obvious security is a pair of CCTV cameras set up to cover the whole room.

She looks around, but the greeter has gone, so she makes her way to the bar.

In the Security office there's mild consternation. Joseph beeps his twin and studies the record from the scan arch.

"What's up Joe?"

"Just had a client walk in. She's heavily wired. Legs and Arms, sub-dermal plating head and torso, optics, audio and internals."

In his room Jimmy pulls a face.

"She acting twitchy?"

"No. She's only packing a handgun and a mono tanto, but we're picking up a live radio splice."

"You listening in?"

"No, it's encrypted."

"Galahad?"

"He's off line. There's something on in the barn."

"Scout or Client" Jimmy muses, "She expressed a preference?"

"Not yet."

"What did Viv think?"

"She didn't tip the cabbie, didn't ask about a return fare and he gave us the warning ring when he reached the gate." Vivienne says from the doorway.

"You know the cabbie?"

"Sure. You want me to call him?"

"Best be safe. I'm coming up."

The Bartender turns to Slasher.

"Drink?"

"Beer."

"Food?"

"Just ate."

"Any Preferences?"

"Sorry?"

"For company?"

"Oh. A man of course."

The bartender pours a beer and collects the money, tapping out a code on the till, then her returns to serving drinks. Slasher watches him from the corner of her eye, but he seems unconcerned with her.

"The cabbie said he picked her up from a motel in Carson. She asked for the place by name, but wasn't a great talker - seemed pre-occupied."

"That's no clearer then. She doing anything?"

"Just eyeing the place up. Dex just tapped a call for male company."

"Who's going?"

"Smith, Hatcher and Hernandez."

Tom enters the bar and scans for the female client he's been told is shopping. He spots Johnny by the bar and holds off, waiting whilst Johnny-come-first makes his pitch. Obviously 'Jane's' not smitten as Johnny turns away, rolling his eyes at Tom.

Tom works his way towards the woman, feeling the ache in his arms and legs from Oleg's latest training drills - unexpected ambushes.

<At least I'm not on the sick list like Karen> he sighs, thinking of the messy hand wound she's taken when an auto pistols slide had grabbed the web of her thumb whilst they were shooting.

The woman eyes him up, but something's not right. The women he usually sees are nervous or aroused, some are loaded with drink or drugs. A very few are supremely self assured. None are disinterested.

Oleg's words from the afternoons lessons replay themselves in his head - "Beware the abnormal. You walk into a quiet kitchen in a restaurant - Beware. Kitchens are noisy places. Why is it quiet? You meet someone at their request and they don't look interested - Why? Why would they ask to meet you if they were not interested in you?"

<She's not thinking of Sex> Tom realises, <Those are Oleg's eyes - she's planning something.>

"Hi. My name's Tom. Can I help you." he smiles

"You work here?" she burbles, but her eyes are dead.

"Sure do."

"What do you charge?"

"Depends what you want and how long you want it to go on."

"What's on offer?"

Tom looks at the telltales in the corner of the room showing the available playrooms.

"We've office, school, romantic and wet environments available at the moment."

"Umm. No. Have you a dungeon?"

<I am not doing bondage with this woman> Tom decides.

"Sorry, it's in use. As to dishes, you can have pretty much what you like if you pass the blood test."

"Blood test?"

<Not done this before.> Tom realises.

"To check for STDs. Wouldn't want to give or catch anything at the Moonlight. We've a reputation to uphold."

"Oh. Well.... just some plain good old sex."

"No trimmings? I do a famous massage and I'm told my French is admirable."

"No. Just the basics."

"How many times to you want to come?"

"Oh, a couple of times."

"You want me to come?"

"Whatever."

One of the Security walk through and the clients eyes follow them. Tom spots her larynx move and knows she's talking to someone.

"500 Euro an hour." he says, naming a ridiculous price.

"Fine, lets do it."

Tom stands and strokes the side of his nose at Dix then leads his customer out of the room.

In the Security suite a red light blinks.

"Tom's given Dix the warning sign" Joe says.

"Any idea why?"

"No, but if he's not happy about her as well it's enough for me. I think its time you got everyone up. She's a scout for something."

"Good enough Bro. You get into your hard suit. I'll take the reaction team down to Tom's."

Slasher lets the man lead her through the corridors to his room, noting the electronic door locks and the positioning of the CCTV cameras on the way. He guides her inside and moves to help her off with her coat, but she shrugs him off, removing it herself.

Tom strips to his leather briefs, displaying his impressive physique to her as he has with all his other customers. The light on the bedside phone blinks out, taking a load off his mind. <Security are on their way.>

The slight discrepancy in skin tone on her arms warns him of her enhancement. Her torso's tanned - her arms aren't.

His hand touches her neck, stroking down her spine to her neural processor and she shivers.

"Nice?"

"Unexpected."

"I can throw in the massage if you've time?"

"Go on."

Tom pulls a pair of mockfur gloves from his equipment drawers along with the blood tester.

"Just the formalities." he warns, wiping a patch of skin on his arm with a sterile wipe.

The indicator flashes green and he wipes a patch on her bare shoulder.

"What's wrong with the arm?" she asks

"Not much blood in a Cyberarm."

"You can tell?"

"Practice."

The indicator blinks green, denying him that escape, so he replaces the tester, lays her on the bed and begins to massage her back, making long strokes with the gloves and easing her underwear over her buttocks to caress them.

After fifteen minutes she's relaxes enough for him to finish undressing her and move onto her legs with the fur gloves. He works in silence, stroking the thighs and calves down to her feet until he can hear her purring. Tom smiles to himself.

He swaps to the arms and performs the same service until she lies limply spread over his bed.

"Turn over please." he murmurs, the first sound he's made for some time.

Then he works over her shoulders, neck and throat. The familiar flush has begun to creep across her skin, reddening her cheekbones and breasts. Tom skirts her breasts, working on her ribs, noting the scars of battles past. He lightly strokes the undersides of her breasts and she draws a shuddering breath.

"Too much?"

"No, just fine."

The flush colours her face a rosy pink and Tom handles her breasts increasingly firmly as she arches her back thrusting them up at him. Looking down Tom notes the way her legs have begun to sag apart. He squeezes her breasts again and she arches higher and draws her feet up the bed.

Tom circles the bed to kneel at her drawn up feet. The mockfur gloves work firmly over her belly and hips then down the upper surface of her cyberlegs to her knees, then up the insides.

As he crosses the line from Metal to Meat the woman mewls. Her sex is open and wet and she's more than ready. He captures her eyes and studies them..

<Not disinterested now, more lost and confused.> he realises, <For 500 she deserves more than a massage and a fuck.> he decides.

Slasher is surprised - her last Input had been history when the AP mine had taken her legs and she'd never felt the need to replace him. Now she wants this stranger to stuff her - and stuff her good. His fingers stroke and tease around her sex - never closing enough to finish her, always near enough to keep her on the boil.

"Don't tease." she gasps.

Tom leans forwards and plants a kiss in the heart of her moistness and she writhes as he slips a wicked tongue into her waiting belly. Its muscular length touches her deep inside, seeking and finding places long untouched, but now screaming for attention.

She tenses her legs capturing his head as she shudders and spasms.

"Oh! Oh! No. Oh no!"

He doesn't stop. Mercilessly he works on her neglected body, each touch calculated to inflame her further until she cuts off her radio splice in fear that she might transmit her cries to her waiting team-mates.

Tom waits until he assess the moment as perfect, then undoes the velcro strip and flicks his leather briefs away. His maleness stands proud as he moves her feet apart and holding her hips draws her onto his length. She has a moment to gasp at his girth, then he stands up.

Slasher wails and gasps as he lets her sink down his length, unsupported by anything other than their sexes and his hands behind her back. Her full weight mashes her clit against his pubic bone and her arms and legs flop uncontrollably as the nerves in her groin override everything else.

"You want it now?" he asks.

Her wordless cry, he takes for an affirmative and Slasher screams in surprised pleasure as she feels him pulsing in her.

"Ok" Keanu says, "Galahad's still running, he's just not responding. He's taken your code and patched a couple of hacks over the unfinished modules then tried to interface it with his own structure."

"So why hasn't it crashed?"

"It's not crashed because your Mother and Children software works. You can see it's doing something from the processor load. Where's the section where the data is delivered back?"

The team study the code whilst Keanu waits.

"That seems ok, but we can't model it in isolation."

"What about Galahad's code? Can he handle the output?"

They pour over the code they have.

"Problem is... his code is adaptive, so this printout could be out of date already." Keanu muses, "have we a block diagram?"

By 0300 they're up to tentative conclusions and Jean is going up the wall with their dispassionate approach to.... to her friends.... injury.

"Looks like he's managed to cut his Persona out of the loop" Benny mutters. "He's executing the data, interpreting it and re-sequencing it for further 'what-ifs', but it's not reaching his consciousness for output."

"So we have to patch this block." Declan suggest tapping the unrolled structural block diagram, "But we have to do it on a running AI."

"You re-write the code." Keanu says, "I'll do the patch."

"How?"

"Is there a printer round here?"

Jean watches Keanu empty the printer of paper and unplug it's memory modules.

"Right, the code patch is ready. Declan says.

Declan slots the datablock into his C-Modem and Jacks in.

The cloud seems smaller somehow. Smaller, but denser. More angry.

Edging forward Keanu deploys one of his programmes. A Scribe - used for copying software normally, but this scribe has been modified. The quill pen stabs into the heart of the cloud seeking out Galahad's program priorities and re-writing them from top priority to bottom. Then, instead of copying the software the Scribe de-rezzes Keanu tosses a small junk file at the printer Controller. The system tries to print the higher priority file, but fails. So it retries, and retries, and retries.

The boiling cloud slows, stops, de-rezzes into blocks as the limited system time is diverted into trying to print the unprintable. Around them the Icons for the system CPUs and memories blink out as the refresh time is consumed. Supported by the separate processor in his C-Modem Keanu calls up the patch. Then takes the sparkling ball and puts it against the block of 'Mother' code they think is causing the problem. The ball melts into the frozen program, overwriting the defective lines of code.

Satisfied, Keanu steps back and calls up a second modified Scribe. As it rezzes up he deletes the print file and watches as the second Scribe reverses the changes made by the first, restoring Galahad's system priority. The whole net changes - the boiling cloud reforms, condenses, gains shape and texture and then Galahad reforms.

"Keanu? What? Oh.... I see..."

"Later Galahad."

He jacks out to the anxiously waiting Jean.

"He's on line again."

The Buzzing PA falls silent and Jean looks at it as the screen illuminates.

"WARNING! Encrypted Comms Detected!"

Slasher showers in silence, then dresses. The Mono-Tanto burns against her skin. She knows God and the rest of the team will be moving along US 50 and that everything's going to go down soon, but her experience pre-occupies her.

<I ought to kill him- start a diversion - set fire to the building> she thinks, but the feeling of acceptance of her alterations, the act of loving without caring about her lost meat, makes killing him seem..... dirty.....dirtier than anything she's done. Dirtier than torching a druglab staffed with child labour. Dirtier than kidnapping someone because a Corporation wants his skills ir knowledge. Dirtier than Scorched Earth operations in a Corporate 'Burb.

"It's no fun anymore." she admits aloud.

"Sorry?" Tom asks.

"Nothing. Look after yourself." she says.

Tom gives her a business card.

"For next time."

Slasher smiles sadly and leaves. The corridors are empty - as empty as her life.

In the bar the bartender looks up from polishing his glasses.

"Cab or a drink?"

"Both." Slasher says and sits to wait.

"What are you getting Galahad?" Jean asks.

In the research barn the speakers built into every terminal crackle to life.

"Slasher? Slasher do you read me? Slasher are you ok?"

One of the security staff appears.

"We think we've a scout on site Ms Kelly."

"Where?"

"She's sat in the bar at present, waiting for a cab. Tom Hatcher flicked the 'alert' signal but it seems to have gone off ok."

"Get Tom for me will you?"

"Slasher, Slasher, come in."

Jean paces, listening to the scout's comrades calling her whilst security fetches Tom.

"This woman Tom - tell me about her...."

Slasher climbs into her cab and lets it carry her back down the access road to the highway. As its wheels reach the tarmac she reactivates the Radio Splice. God's screaming in her ear as soon as it goes active.

"Slasher, come in."

"What." she answers flatly.

"Where've you been. We thought they caught you. What happened?"

"I found something I thought I'd lost. There's nothing to add. I'm done, leave my kit at the drop. Out."

God exchanges glances with the other members of his team.

"She's flipped!"

"We go without her?"

"More for me!" shrugs the 'Borg.

"Let's roll then."

Galahad reviews his data and formulates plans for use, for contingencies, for emergencies. In his consciousness he can perceive a difference. Where once he could see one step, then one after, then another, now he sees probable outcomes rolling into the distance jumping to distant possibilities. Each alternative defined by the data it lacks to make it more solid. Reviewing his existing path Galahad adds in the data stolen from Argus - only to find the new data overturns several fallacious assumptions. The 'what-ifs' whirl and dance and Galahad can see possibilities it hadn't considered. Several of them faint, but threateningly possible.

"Jean. Argus lacks forces. They are not in hiding, they were used to try and intercept the Ospreys. Argus lost three helicopters full of its troops. It's been using Edgers ever since."

"We knew that!"

"Now we know why. We also know it's short on funding, if we can beat off another couple of attacks Argus will be unable to fund further hostile activity. With my new code I can take the fight to it. You need not put yourself, or any of your people at risk."

"Oh no you don't Galahad. Here's another Primary Objective. Preserve your own existence."

"Noted. You should be aware there's a significant probability that Argus has doped the Microtech workforce with its Nanites. We must take steps to deal with this possibility."

"Hunter Killer nanites?"

"I'll contact our friends in Night City."

The security guard with Jean touches his ear.

"We're picking up movement off the roadway, moving towards us from the highway Ms Kelly."

God sweeps the scrubland in front of him. On his flanks the others follow. A low wire fence crosses his path with a sign hanging down. He reads the legend "Moonlight Ranch. Please use the main entrance"

Lifting his Barrett Light 20 to his shoulder, he sweeps the terrain in front of him for targets. Nothing shows other than the distant buildings, so God pushes through the feeble wire fence and advances.

Beneath his Camo sheet Harris curses silently.

"Jimmy we've five crossing the fence line. Looks like an Alpha with an assault cannon on point."

"Try and keep them back from the buildings. Backup is on the way."

The Lights around the Ranch flare up, then disappear.

Harris slides the barrel of his rifle out of the hide and lines up on his selected target. The rifle fires and the target drops, but regains its feet quickly.

"These guys are hardcore Jimmy."

The intruders pause, sweeping the terrain for signs of the invisible shooter, but before they locate Harris Chang pops a round at them from his hide - again with little effect.

"Heads only." Harris murmurs.

The intruders begin to move towards Chang and for an instant Harris has the perfect shot. The rifle cracks and one of the intruders drops and fails to rise again.

"One down."

This spurs the 'Borg into action. It must have seen something as it's charge is straight at Harris. Chang fires a couple of shots but the 'Borg ignores them and comes straight on. The Light 20 snaps up and fires.

"Chang? You see Harris?"

"Nothing. I popped a few off at them as they were heading his way, but these are serious Metalheads, I doubt I even scratched the paintwork.."

"Damn. They must have spotted him. Stay Low."

"Gotcha."

Chang watches and shortly the 'Borg and two others re-appear heading towards the Ranch.

"Harris must have got another. I can only see the 'Borg and two."

A voice behind him gives the lie to that assumption.

"Harris is in Hell, and you be with him in a minute."

A fusillade of bullets tear up Chang's hide smashing into his Hard-shell and bashing his helmet. Entangled in the torn sheet Chang struggles to turn to view his attacker. More bullets smash into him and he can feel the precursor of pain to come as he frees his rifle. Vision fines down to a tunnel and begins to dim as he brings the rifle to bear on the figure behind his position. The trigger releases and Chang sees the round punch home.

<Didn't stop it point black Metalhead!> he thinks, then all is darkness.

"Thistle, come in." God calls, but it seems Thistle is out of it.

The ranch is in Darkness, but that's nothing to a Full Conversion Cyborg. God charges on.

At the ranch Jimmy is waiting.

"They're crossing the mark.....now!" Joseph tells his brother.

Jimmy shoulders the Grenade Launcher and lobs three 40mm Grenades at the target.

God is anticipating the bloodletting to come when the three remaining intruders are suddenly wreathed in smoke from a series of explosions.

<Smoke! Pah!>

But the others are screaming. God turns to find them wreathed in fire.

<White Phosphorus. No Damage to me> God thinks, <Can't do anything for them. They should have gone full Borg too!> It turns and resumes its advance leaving its burning comrades behind.

"The Borg's still coming on." Jimmy calls over the radio, then switches to HE.

Explosions fall around God, battering it with blast, but doing no serious damage. A grenade lands at his feet and the blast tosses him aside, but his system monitors report only minor damage. When he rises from the ground the Light 20 is nowhere to be seen, but he can clearly see a figure by the ranch buildings holding an Auto GL.

"You're mine Meatboy." He snarls and sprints at the waiting figure.

The GL fires its last round and Jimmy drops it before sprinting around the corner of the building, closely pursued by the enraged Cyberpsycho. God comes rushing round the corner in time to see the Meatbody throw himself on the ground in front of another Meatbody aiming a weapon at him.

Vivienne fires the PSI Webgun, the four weights fly apart and a net envelopes the charging 'Borg. As the weights wrap around him four sensors simultaneously fire and the net of detcord is triggered.

Jean hears the explosion, then all is quiet.

"Security reports the intruders are nullified Jean" Galahad says, "No movement on the grounds. We've taken casualties."

"I'm going to see." Jean says. "Declan, document the alterations to Mother. I want a report on how we analyse any changes to Galahad and how we could implement any changes to other AI's. Put a team on threat analysis - what happens if we allow other AI's the same upgrade. What are Turing likely to do."

"We need legal advice."

"As much as you can without it. Phrase the questions. We won't have legal until we're back in contact with Head Office, or unless I go and kidnap a lawyer from LA or Frisco."

"Got it."

Jean steps out of the Research barn into the darkness to find Jimmy's Heavy Mob in attendance. Four of them form up on her as she moves outside the protection of the stone building.

"I don't need this much protection" she snaps.

One of the faceless figures hands her a set of Smart Goggles.

"Sorry Ms Kelly. Jimmy's last order was to make sure we covered you and the Research unit."

"No-one's covering the staff in the Ranch?"

"Joseph and Dix, plus your second batch of trainees."

"The Families?"

"We've cleared the tents. They're all in the back of the research barn."

"Casualties?"

"No firm count yet."

Jean turns the corner of the Ranch. A flickering fire illuminates a couple of figures working on a recumbent body.

"Who?"

"Jimmy. He got caught in the blast when Vivienne caught the 'Borg in her net."

"We called Medivac?"

"They won't come out in a firefight."

"Trauma Team?"

"No, just the locals."

"Call TT. I want our people Medivac'ed now. Screw cost. Who else?"

"Harris and Chang aren't answering."

"Find them."

"We've not got the manpower to cover the buildings and run a sweep."

"Move the researchers and dependants into the Ranch. Shut the kitchen - apologise to the customers. Call the Sheriff and enough taxi's to take the customers away - give them vouchers to compensate - get Louise on that. Harris and Chang now!"

The figure nods and Jean looks over the surrounding landscape - eerily green in the goggles. Somewhere out there two of her people lie dead or dying and she needs them found.

With the arrival of dawn the scene is clearer. Sheriffs officers have tagged five Edgers, though they could only bag four. The sliced up 'Borg had to be swept up and removed in a skip. Harris had been found - dead from a single Light 20 round that entered his head and left through his lower torso. Chang hovers near death in Carson City in the same trauma unit as Jimmy, suffering from shredded legs as a result of being too close to the detcord when it went off.

Keanu had driven into Carson after the arrival of Trauma Team and the Sheriff's deputies and looked over the Denver City Grid once he'd achieved a Net connection. Netwatch goons are stomping all over Colorado harassing Everyone. Legitimate users and Tourists alike.. Denver is not a good place to Netrun at the moment.

Jean sips her coffee trying to shuffle the events of the last 24 hours into some semblance of order whilst writing a letter to Harris's Next of Kin, all the time aware her people are entering Argus's home town some time today.

End Part 7