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 Eleven

Anya checks the list on her wrist terminal and smiles at the memory of her own selection trials. The display changes to the map Galahad has generated showing the route to take between each of the candidates homes to give them each an equal workout. The path to the front door of the first 'victim' is before her and it's time to start.

She rings the doorbell at the first address as the sun is beginning to peek above the horizon. It takes a couple of pushes to get a response, then a window opens on the upper floor.

"Who is it?" a grumpy adult voice calls.

"ES Security Sir. Is there a Trixie Schumaker living at this address?"

"Why?"

"She applied for a career with Executive Solutions at the school cookout. The tests came back with an S Grade. This is part one of the physical assessment."

"You're joking! It's only 0430!"

"No Sir, no joke. She has three minutes to present herself ready to run."

Anya starts her wrist timer and listens to the shouts and cries coming from the house. The DoE regs say five minutes, but the tester is permitted to claim it's three minutes to see how the candidate reacts under stress.

The front door is opened by a woman in a dressing gown who studies Anya closely, taking in the Patrol Armour and the slung rifle.

"She's be down in a moment officer. Are you running in that getup?"

"Standard patrol gear? Yes Ma'am. I wouldn't be much good if I couldn't." she looks at the wrist terminal. "Forty-five seconds."

A wail of protest comes down the staircase.

"Mom! Where's my gym gear?"

"In the basket."

"Ohhhh!"

"Thirty Seconds." Anya calls and a young woman stumbles down the staircase pulling a T-shirt over her head.

"Trixie Schumaker?"

"Yes."

"Put this on please. It will record Biometric data whilst we exercise." Anya hands the girl a wristwatch sized device.

"What are we doing?" Trixie asks as she straps the monitor in place.

"Running to Jose Hanson's house. Do you have any pre-existing Medical Complaints you failed to mention during your initial assessment?"

"No. God it's early!"

"That's part of the test. Ready? Go!" and with that Anya starts to jog along the selected course.

"Would you describe yourself as an honest person Trixie?"

"What? Oh. Yes, mostly...."

As they run through the streets Anya runs through a list of questions to evaluate Trixie's attitudes and character, the answers being recorded and cross checked against her physiological reactions, testing her mind and body at the same time.

They reach the Hanson house and Anya makes a note on her wrist terminal.

"Thank you Ms Schumaker. You will be contacted later today regarding your application."

Trixie gasps for air as Anya repeats the same procedure for Jose Hanson. If anything the cries of protest are louder and more intense and she grins as Jose finally dashes through his front door dressed in briefs and running shoes as Anya is about to call the three minutes.

They jog away up the road and Trixie makes her way home to shower and prepare for school.

"So what happened to you?" Trixie asks.

"She ran me to Karl's house in my shreds asking me questions as we ran, then she gave him three minutes to get ready to run." Jose replies.

"Same as me."

"Well, he didn't make it. Karl's always been a slow riser. She waited a couple of minutes more, thanked his dad, then jogged away. Looks like Karl didn't cut it."

"You'll be glad to know you weren't the only one running in underwear. Cassie turned out in her briefs and running shoes. She said the examiner sent her back for a sports bra. Didn't want to cause a scandal running improperly dressed candidates through the streets!"

"What's next I wonder?"

"Well, it wasn't far, just enough to make me sweat, so I'd guess some sort of endurance or agility trial."

The bell rings and they head for their classes.

"We got the statement we expected Ms Kelly." Cleo reports. "Derron Fryer was hired by Argus to kill the StJohn girl."

"What did it cost to find that out?"

"A grand to him and two more to contacts and the dirty feeling I've got from letting him live."

"He's still at liberty?"

"Couldn't take him on site without involving the local Guardian Gang. We settled for warning him off any area with an ES presence and the whole State of Nevada."

Jean turns to Rufus, lurking behind Cleo in the doorway.

"Is that good enough for a warrant?"

"Maybe in Vegas. Here? Not likely."

"Ok. Thank you Deputy Laing. When are your team heading back to Vegas?"

"Later Today Ma'am. Unless you need us for anything else?"

"Not me. Cleo? You want Deputy Laing, or his team, for anything?"

Cleo looks closely to see if her employer has any implied meaning, but Jean is straight faced.

"No? Then see Deputy Laing to his hotel. Get yourself some sleep and be back on duty tonight. Things could get busy."

Rufus waits until they reach the hotel.

"What did she mean by 'busy' Cleo?"

"We hit Argus tonight."

"What? With what you have?"

"Probably. Rufus, can I stay with you? I'd rather not miss my chance........."

Victor walks up to his next target address. As he approaches the door it opens to admit him. As with the previous houses the building's cleaning remote waits behind the front door, its simple manipulators hijacked by Galahad to undo the lock on the door.

He ducks into the cupboard beneath the stairs and locates the switches on the hub. A couple of flicks and the house lights blink to confirm Galahad has access to yet another open doorway into Argus's lair. Victor quickly backs out and closes the doors behind him. As he walks away the remote begins cleaning the hallway and utility cupboard, resuming it's normal behaviour and removing any trace that he was ever there.

Nira Kibu potters about the house. The Company driver had woken her to collect her husband at 0800. Together they'd guided him through showering, dressing and eating breakfast before she'd seen him on his way to the office. Now she sits and attempts to assess the routes she can take. Her case sits on the bedroom floor, packed with her personal possessions.

She's considering returning to school when the doorbell rings. A red-haired woman is waiting on the doorstep dressed in a suit of similar cut to Victor's.

"Yes?"

"Ms Nira Kibu? I'm Jean Kelly. Victor tells me you may be looking for work?"

"Well.... yes."

I represent Executive Solutions. We need a mature individual to lead an assessment group from the college going to one of our facilities for further testing and evaluation. They leave this morning. Are you interested?"

"Why me?"

"Victor tells me you're looking for a change and it looks as if you could be a valuable asset to our operations."

"How do you mean?"

Jean hands her a datapack.

"Play it."

Nira slots the pack into her entertainment centre to view the records of herself and Victor at play.

"Is this Blackmail?"

"Nope! Keep it as a memento if you're not interested in the job. If you are we can use people who display such.... enthusiasm. Be at the High School at 1100."

"Good Morning Ms Bell. How may I help you?"

Anya hand the School Principal a list.

"Executive Solutions would be obliged if you could release these members of the Graduating Year for further testing."

"More of them? I heard a story that some of them were being run through the streets this morning?"

"An initial physical assessment of the 'S' Types."

"Initial? What else do you need?"

"Endurance, dexterity, mental resilience. It's best we do the testing at our own facility - that way we don't disrupt your school."

The Principal looks at the list he's been handed.

"But... This is over half of the Graduating class."

"Transport will be here at 1100."

"But.... chaperoning.... food..... all the things we need to cover for field trips?"

"If the students are released we'll cover everything. The kids will need clothing for a trip of ten days. Is that going to disrupt their studies?"

"And your company will cover all costs?"

"Normal costs. You won't need to send any staff, but if you want to, then you'll need to pay for them. Ok?"

"Very well. We can concentrate our efforts on the ones who remain behind."

Within a couple of minutes the halls are echoing to the sound of the candidates heading home to collect their bags. Anya goes outside to await the transport coming to collect them.

In the Lab Dr Kibu's head swims with images. Strange dreams of his wife dripping come mingle with architecture diagrams of an unusual configuration of software modules which describe an AI. In spite of his fatigue Timo Kibu strives to arrange the fractured images into something sensible on his workstation, then sits there trying to puzzle out what it means and why Nira would be doing such a thing.

Dr Taylor's thoughts are similarly disturbed, though hers are focussed on the strange events in her home and the whereabouts of her missing son. A neighbour had tried to tell her something, but all she remembers is the news that her son is still alive.

<Where? Where?> she wonders as numbers and diagrams pour through the link from Argus, swamping her consciousness anew.

A battered Greyhound is waiting outside the school as Nira turns the corner, dragging the wheeled suitcase that holds everything she wants to keep from her life. A quartet of armed guards are supervising a mob of kids loading bags into the baggage compartment and boarding the bus.

Nira walks up to the bus, glad she decided to wear something a little more conservative than her first choice, to find a harassed looking security officer with "Bell" on her armour.

"This is the ES Bus?"

The guard looks up.

"You are?"

"Kibu. Nira Kibu."

"Oh good. Here you are."

Nira finds a clipboard being thrust at her.

"This is the boarding list. Make sure they've got the Parental Consent forms signed before you let them on board. This is Kaufmann, that's Perry."

Two of the guards wave acknowledgement and Nira notes the difference in their uniforms.

"Microtech?"

"It's a joint venture. That's Vivienne from ES, she'll be your other guard for the trip."

"How many applicants are there?"

"Forty total. Seven 'S' types, four 'T's, eight 'M's, thirteen 'E's and eight 'C's."

"And I'm supposed to babysit them?"

"Until you get to the facility. Ms Kelly said something about you taking part in the testing."

"Oh? Is there a brief for me?"

"At the Ranch I suppose. Anyway. Got things to do, so I'll leave them in your hands."

Nira flounders for a moment as Anya walks away leaving her in charge. Then, drawing herself up, Nira turns to the queue waiting to board the bus.

Jean receives the news that the bus is on its way and puts it aside from her thinking, turning to the next problem - the assault on the Microtech Building. Marta has promised to crack the armoured front entrance and that gets the assault team into the lobby. Galahad seems confident he can deal with Argus and the building's automated defences, but that still leaves them with the requirement to physically seize the building - to capture the Security Centre and Argus's CPU.

"At least we have a good idea of the building's internal layout." Jean says.

Joseph looks up from his study of the maps they've put together.

"An Idea isn't good enough to stake your life on. We'll have to do the place floor by floor. We need to nullify the Guard force somehow."

"Suggestions Joseph?"

"Forcing the lobby with one of the wagons is good, but I think we need to draw the guard force out of position first. Let me think....."

"Ok. Oh Joseph, any idea what this is? We took it off the Turing agent we've got on ice. I'll have to return it."

Joseph studies the offered handgun carefully, along with the spare power cells.

"Magnon. Never heard of them. Obviously an electronic weapon, there's no muzzle, just some sort of coil assembly. I'd guess it's some sort of variant on a pulse rifle - cut down for short range work. Any idea how many shots you get from one of these cells?"

"Sorry, no. How dangerous is it?"

"Well......... the pulse rifle's supposed to be powerful enough to kill unenhanced people at short range and cripple borgs out to 500 m. we'd really need to test it to get reliable performance figures."

"Ok. Thanks Joseph."

"I wouldn't recommend using it though Ms Kelly. The handgrip looks like some sort of reader. I suspect it's only going to work for it's registered user. Might go off like an EMP grenade for anyone else."

"Don't try and use it then - gotcha Joseph."

Jean tucks the weapon into her bag and returns to reviewing the companies current situation. Louise reports the number of Rep's is steadily growing and Sales are growing to match.

In it's fortress Argus reviews the breakthrough its puppets have produced.

Satisfied all is proceeding to plan Argus watches its researchers attempting to apply their new discoveries and runs it's projections to take account of the new possibilities.

The sun has gone below the horizon as the bus turns onto the access road to the Moonlight. Nira studies the other passengers. Some look around, interested in every feature of the landscape, some talk, some sleep. Down at the back of the bus where they believe they're not being watched a few couples are making out on the back seats. Nira makes a note of them. Anyone shameless enough to perform before forty odd classmates is either shameless or stupid.

The bus squeaks to a halt at a roadblock and an armoured ES guard climbs through the door, nodding to Vivienne.

"These the new prospects? Who's in charge?"

Vivienne points Nira out.

"Ms Kibu has the manifest."

The guard extends a hand and Nira hands over the sheets. There's a quick headcount, then the bus continues down the road to the ranch buildings, where Nira disembarks her charges.

"Ms Kibu?" a female voice calls, "I'm Louise Belton, the facility manager."

Nira looks her over.

<Sober, steady looking, about my age.>

"Call me Nira. Where do you want me to put my charges?"

"We've an area set aside in the outbuildings if you could lead them there. We'll keep them under surveillance tonight and begin testing tomorrow."

"Surveillance? Why?"

"You were briefed weren't you?"

"About what?"

"You've had the H-K nano?"

"Umm. H-K Nano?"

"Ah. You go in observation as well then."

"Why? What's going on?" Nira asks with just an edge of fear in her voice.

"Jimmy. See everyone's settled, then bring Ms Kibu to the office."

Nira is guided to a low stone building by a detachment of Security who have materialised from somewhere and who politely, but firmly shepard everyone inside. The building proves to have been converted to a bunkhouse, basic but sufficient. A single figure is waiting as they enter.

"Ms Kibu. They said you were coming. I wanted to thank you for sheltering me whilst we waited for Trauma Team." the young man says.

Nira eyes the jumpsuit clad figure.

"Do I know you?"

"Alan Taylor? Lucy and Victor brought me to your house after I was attacked."

"Alan? What are you doing here?"

"Ms Kelly offered me an assessment. I've good 'T' grades so the company is sponsoring me on an electronics course in Carson City and I'm doing practical training here. I've signed up for a five year contract to cover tuition costs."

"Oh. Right."

"How are Lucy and Victor? Are you still....."

"Seeing Victor? Yes. It's... I'm.... I've got a job here as well."

"Doing what?"

"I'm supposed to be supervising this mob through their assessments and.... I'm going to make movies."

"You're an E?"

"I don't know, but Victor said I could."

The others mill around them as they chat. Alan calls out in surprised pleasure at the sight of Jennifer. Whilst they swap stories Nira makes sure everyone finds a bunk and stores their possessions before she allows herself to be led to the main building.

Vivienne gives Nira the $5 tour of the staff areas of the main building leading her around the parts of the facility the punters never see.

"You think you'll recruit staff to work here from the candidates?" Nira asks.

"Here? No, we don't need staff here - I think the 'E's you've brought for testing aren't suitable. Too raw."

"Why bring them here then?"

"Best place to test I suppose. I understand this is Executive Solutions biggest facility, so here's probably the best place to test. Once that's done the 'S' types can be sold on to a security school and the others sold on as appropriate."

"Sold on?" Nira asks, outraged.

"Their contracts, or the options on them. Training doesn't come for free."

"They reach the doorway to the office and Vivienne ushers Nira through the doorway. Inside Nira sees Louise Belton sat behind a desk with a couple of Exotics.

"Take a seat Nira. This is Shady and Jessica."

"Can you answer a question for me please Ms Belton. Why have you brought the kids here?" Nira demands. "You don't have the organisation to offer most of them a career and Vivienne said that the 'E's are too raw to work here."

"Vivienne talks too much." the Fox exotic says.

"The kids, as you call them, are here for two reasons. The primary one is to support the company business. Executive Solutions is growing fast and we need staff to support that growth. We don't train 'S' types so the candidates will be assessed then offered on to established security schools. C's, T's and M's with appropriate minors will be offered sponsorships. The E's we can train ourselves."

"Vivienne said they were..."

"Too raw, yes. But we wouldn't employ them here."

"Why?"

"The Moonlight is a brothel for Porno Stars. We also shoot films. We don't train whores, if they're good enough then we will rent them accommodation so they can ply their trade, but they get their training elsewhere. The candidates will train for other 'E' type employment."

"But what about Victor, Lucy and the others? They were trained here weren't they?"

The three women assume a closed look and Nira becomes aware that the room seems suddenly cooler.

"What was the other reason.... you said there were two?" Nira tries to warm the chilly atmosphere.

"Enough questions Nira. We need you to test out now. See is Victor's assessment was correct."

Nira is yawning with fatigue by the time the test is over. In addition to the computer test she'd had a long and rambling interview that leaves her puzzled as to exactly what it is she's been tested for.

Finally her three interrogators sit back.

"Well, you test highly for intelligence, as Victor said. You're an 'E' without a doubt with a strong Minor 'T' and 'C', also you're not averse to the idea of taking risks. I think you'll be a great asset to ES."

"Doing what?"

"You've a Medical degree? You'll be with the candidates to the Sales Team, but you'll be assessing them rather than learning how to sell."

"Can you answer the question now?" Nira asks.

Louise Belton draws a deep breath.

"Part of our business is exactly what you see, but there's a chunk that's not visible. The team in Denver are working for Microtech. We intend to secure the Microtech Denver facility and regain control of the AI. The problem is that it's been dosing Microtech Employees and their dependants with control Nanowear. When everything kicks off the infested victims may go berserk. Your charges are being dosed with a counter nanite to nullify the infestation, so hopefully they should be ok. Jean's tried to administer the counter agent to as many other Microtech people in Denver as possible, but statistically she's going to have missed some. Therefore ES has tried to save as many dependants as possible by bringing them here."

"You're Microtech Security?"

"Jean is."

"An everyone else from Microtech Denver might turn into some sort of puppet to the Microtech AI?"

"From what we've heard more like a killer zombie."

"You've treated me?"

"And the candidates."

"What about my baby?"

"You're pregnant? Victor's?"

"Yes."

"I'll check up on that." the Rabbit exotic says, picking up a cellphone and dialling.

"So what jobs class as 'E' types?" Nira asks, more to take her mind off the call than for the sake of conversation.

"Psychiatrist, Actor, Public relations, Doctor, Singer, anything that has human interaction as a significant part of it's day to day activity."

"I see.... and you're looking for intelligent 'E's who lack shame and aren't averse to risk taking?"

"Currently."

"What's the pay....?"

Cleo follows the Sanitation wagon through the open gates of Aurora. The indifferently manned security post ignores her, offending Cleo's professional ethics.

She pulls up in the parking area at Retail Row where a small group of people are waiting for her.

"Officer Guzzmann?"

"Yes Mr Bronstien?"

He seems taken aback to be recognised. Taken aback, but pleased.

<Prior Preparation and Planning prevents Piss-poor performance!> Cleo says to herself, remembering the lessons she'd had at the Sheldon school.

"I'll come straight to the point. The Aurora Residents group would like to know if ES Security is taking the Aurora Security contract over?"

"If Aurora Security are prepared to relinquish it we intend to take it over. However this situation has yet to be clarified."

Cleo walks towards the gatehouse eying the pair of patrol cars parked there.

The gatehouse door is ajar so Cleo goes straight inside, finding a single guard watching TV.

"Where's the others?"

The guard looks up, and Cleo assesses him, judging his fitness.

<Jeez. And I thought the day staff were bad.>

"Where's the Watch Commander?"

"That'd be me I suppose." the guard replies.

Bronstien leads the residents group inside.

"How many men are on duty this evening?"

The guard watches the influx with a mix of relief and resignation.

"Just me. The Company laid everyone else off this afternoon and there ain't no way I'm patrolling without backup."

The residents stir uneasily and several muted conversations begin, forming little clusters as they mutter between each other. Cleo watches for a moment, then sits down next to the guard.

"What brings you here Pop?"

"Got to eat Girly. Did the long walk and came home. Not much call for thirty year men in Denver. Army pension doesn't go far."

"Anything good on the box?"

"Usual crap. Keeps you awake. That's about all. You taking the Contract over?"

"Maybe. Depends what the residents do."

Christine Bonnetti swore proficiently and at length, but the Aurora Residents group had been adamant the Aurora Housing Corporation would send a senior executive to attend the estate now or tomorrow they'd be in court facing a suit for breach of contract. Now she was on site and looking at the security cover and things were not good.

A marginally profitable business in the current financial climate, Aurora Housing paid the minimum necessary to meet its contractual obligations and now it looked as if the Security Contractor had gone belly up. Faced with the recent number of gang Related incidents the Residents had finally drawn the line.

"You provide the security we contracted for, or we leave." Bronstien declares and the other retailers nod in agreement. "In the last few weeks security on the estate has failed to prevent dependants being killed seemingly at will, gang's coming and going as they please, assaults, arson, vandalism. We might as well up sticks and go and live downtown for the protection you're providing." the Microtech Rep says and the rep from the US Mint had been right behind her.

The shouting and finger pointing had continued until midnight and now she was watching the disgruntled residents leaving.

"There is an alternative."

Christine looks around. Sat on the seat with the solitary Aurora guard are two figures she's not previously noticed.. The one dressed in a business suit stands up and extends a hand

"Clarice Palmetto. Executive Services. How much are you asking for the whole estate?"

Cleo watches the negotiations for a while then, hearing the roar of the sanitation wagons engine as it prepares to leave the estate, she slips out of the guardhouse to hitch a lift with Marta back to the centre of town.

Joseph eyes the front entrance of the Microtech building. His team have already wired the concrete planters obstructing access to corporate Plaza and a command detonator is waiting in his pocket for activation. At the foot of the steps leading to the front entrance a misshapen figure is slowly stumbling past the building. Joseph hopes the Microtech guards are fooled by the tricked street cameras into believing it's just another drunk, and don't get curious enough to come outside, otherwise they might see that the staggering figure is spraying fast setting foam to turn the first couple of steps into a ramp.

The growl of a heavy engine warns Joseph that things are happening, then one of the big Yellow Sanitation wagons rolls into view on its scheduled pickup, rolling sedately around Corp Centre to collect its load.

Joseph clicks his radio twice and turns his attention back to the front doors.

Barry Langdon lets the wagon make its scheduled collection at the State building, then proceed to the Microtech building as normal. The tines slide into the Microtech dumpsters receptacles and dump it's contents into the back before lowering it to its accustomed place. The tuck backs up, preparing to move on to its next pickup when Barry flicks the over-ride.

"Ok Crew. Let's hit it."

Two figures extricate themselves from the crew compartment and a pair of Marta's cyberhounds follow them. Barry drops the loading tines again and then drives deliberately into the loading bay doors. The sharpened metal prongs push through the doors with a eye watering high pitched screeching. Barry flicks the loading switch and the hydraulic arms pull upwards ripping through the doors like a pair of can openers, snapping the metal cross ties on the back of the doors with a series of loud bang's.

Barry waits until the tines reach the tops of the doors, then lowers them. One push with the wagon and the whole section between the tears falls inwards.

From inside the building comes the sound of an alarm.

"One, this is Six. Breach made."

The office system dials a list of numbers and across Aurora house systems pick up the calls. The Easter egg installed with the catalogue takes charge and switches access to the surveillance feeds. The hubs that were the hardware roadblock guarding the roads into Argus's datafort are now open Freeways and Galahad steps straight into the heart of Argus's fortress.

In the heart of its home system Argus suddenly becomes aware of an intruder - another AI - using the Icon of an Armoured Human. Fireballs spit from the Eye that is Argus's Icon, but ricochet harmlessly from the intruders armour. Faced with a credible threat Argus takes its attention from the building's defensive systems to deal with the interloper. Throughout the building automatic turrets return to standby mode. Finding no targets they retract into their stowed positions.

Snarling Chrome dogs and Decaying humanoids close on the intruder, but it rezzes up its defences before they can attack and a wolfpack falls on the dogs, rending them limb from digital limb, then falling on the shambling Zombies so fast that their destruction creates a digital blizzard of de-rezzing programs. The intruder advances, creating more attackers. The wolfpack moves to encircle Argus, cutting it off from its banks of Controllers, driving it towards a corner of its datafort. A wolf leaps at Argus to sink virtual teeth into its Icon and the trapped AI becomes aware of Program damage. Faced with the imminent probability of program dissolution Argus takes its penultimate escape option and activates an LDL into which its dives.

Galahad watches the LDL go dark as Argus shuts it's bolthole behind it, leaving Galahad in possession of the Microtech Denver Research datafort.

Alone, Galahad takes stock of the situation and begins to manipulate the controllers.

Across the plaza Joseph keys the command link and the two concrete planters shatter, spraying small chunks of concrete, earth and plants around as Marta begins her dash at the front entrance.

The heavy sanitation wagon passes easily over the small heaps of debris that remain and roars towards the front steps. The whole wagon shudders as the front wheels hit the improvised ramp and bounces up onto the stairs to charge the glass windows of the front entrance on inertia. Marta drops the loading arms and the tines fall into place striking the armoured glass with their sharpened points.

Cracks leap out from the points of impact, briefly seen in the moment before the whole pane drops out of its frame, held together only by the laminating plastic between the sheets of armourglass.

Marta checks her headphones are in place and activates the pair of Nauseators mounted over the front bumper. The sound reflecting from the armourglass almost makes her hurl in spite of her protective gear, so she waggles the tines until the glass fragments under its own, unsupported weight.

The pair of guards in the lobby are driven back by the din, but manage to hit the security lockdown button before they flee. Steel shutters fall from the ceiling to reinforce the armourglass windows all around the reception area. The truck jerks under the sudden impact as the weighted shutters strike the loading arms, but the shutter is prevented from falling into place.

Joseph and his assault team run up and deploy either side of the truck.

"Ready?"

"One."

"Two."

"Pups."

"Go."

Marta kills the Nauseators as the teams dash through the breach and into the lobby. The lead team covers the doors the guards were forced to retreat through whilst the second team examines the reception desk and its systems to see what services it can access.

"No Access."

"Move on." Joseph orders.

A laser designates points on the door leading into the building.

"Prince John. Mark, mark, mark, mark. One rocket each point."

One of the Cyberhounds puts a rocket into each hinge of the door. The small shaped charges neatly sever the hinges and the doors topple outwards. Team 2 and the dogs advance to the lift doors whilst Team 1 cover the stairs against the expected rush. The Fireman's switch is thrown and both lifts descend automatically to the reception area.

"Ready?"

Two Cyberhounds are positioned before the doors and Joseph drops a smoke grenade, filling the area with IR and Visual blocking smoke.

"Switch to UV flash." he orders. "Dogs up with sharpwire only."

The dogs are given their orders and UV strobes are scattered on the floor restoring vision to the assault teams as they switch their visors over.

The lift doors open to reveal a pair of Microtech guards, rapidly blinded by the dense smoke. One of the dogs sprays them with sharpwire binding them into a polymer cocoon.

"Check 'em." Joseph orders and one of the lift team steps in to administer a squirt from a canister and remove their weapons. The guards resist briefly before lapsing into unconsciousness.

The laser designator comes into play again.

"Prince John, Prince Billy. Designate area. Mark, mark, mark, mark. 'They shall not pass."

Both dogs move to cover the descending staircase and Joseph and his team move upwards as Marta reactivates her Nauseators.

"Call Captain Shotwick. We need help."

"Don't panic. It's not that serious."

"You don't think two perimeter breaches and 80% of the guard force is caught between them is serious?"

"Call Rhodes and Kingman again."

"They said they were coming in to get their heavy gear."

"What's the situation in the loading bay?"

"Calliente says they're trapped between a nauseator in the external doorway and some sort of heavy weapons squad in the reception area."

"Tell her to take her team out of the fire door and go round the outside."

"They tried that. The doors won't unlock."

"Won't?"

"And the cameras aren't working either."

"Damn. They must have a runner in the fort. Why's the AI not doing anything?"

"Are you going to call Shotwick or am I?"

At the production plant in Westminster the Night Supervisor has his own set of problems - all along the production line the assembly robots are sending distress messages.

"Keller! Get in here!" he screams over the plant's PA system.

Like a Genii the maintenance team leader appears.

"What's up?"

"The line's about to stop. I've failure warnings from ten, no, make that twelve of the robots."

"On it."

Keller's back in two minutes.

"It's not the robots - there's no components coming from the warehouse."

"Well, get the delivery system working."

"The units on the shop floor have all stopped and Pedro says the warehouse access is closed. It's not a Plant maintenance problem."

The Night Super activates his speaker phone and dials the warehouse.

Drew Daly wakes with a start at the shrilling phone. The control suite is as he left it when he settled for his nap - dark - monitors switched off and alarms muted.

"Daly. What is it?"

"You sleeping again Daly?" the Night Supervisor roars. "Your automated stock system has stopped delivering parts! The whole line's about to stall."

Drew flicks on the nearest monitor and at first glimpse everything seems fine, but when he tries to flip status pages there's no response.

"Hang on. My display's crashed."

All the usual tricks fail to restore the system so he reboots his monitor, but when he tries to log on it declines to accept his ID.

"Something screwy here. I'm just going to shut the system down and restart."

In the factory the Supervisor hears the handset being placed on the desk, then there's a crash and the sound of splitting wood followed by the sound of one of the warehouse robots manoeuver warning systems.

"BEEP! BEEP! This robot is in motion! BEEP! BEEP! This robot is in motion!"

"What the Fu....." Drew says. Then the Super hears the sound of a high speed motor and an odd gurgling sound.

There's a low hum of motors and the manoeuver warning sounds again, then someone hangs the phone up and attempts to phone back are ignored.

The Super looks at his Maintenance team leader with puzzlement writ large on his face.

"Keller. Get your men to find out what's going on in the warehouse. I can't raise Daly."

"I'm not sending them inside blind."

"No. That might not be wise."

Argus considers its situation. Its bolthole is secure, but its only escape route is back into the main office system where the AI that attacked it is probably waiting. It can access the factory's systems, but the distributed nature of the factory makes the system too small to support an AI of Argus's size. Fortunately during Director Allison's reign it had been possible to sneak the appropriations past him, to enlarge the warehouse systems to be capable of housing Argus along with the LDL and other hardware necessary to get here and keep running. With total control of the warehouse robots the external doors were now sealed and the only person capable of purging Argus from the system was now nullified.

The delivery robot in the control room drops the remains of the unfortunate Daly and moves to focus its primitive sensors on the server cabinets currently hosting it's intelligence. Argus works the clumsy manipulators - designed for handling shipping boxes - to pull access panels from the Server cabinet. Finally it locates the port it was seeking. Clumsy claws dismember the telephone atop the control desk and extract the lead required to connect the phone to the telephone network. After a little fumbling the plug slides into the empty jack socket in the server. The hitherto unused modem reports a dialling tone. Argus inputs a number and activates it's last ditch plan.......

Joseph signals his team to halt. The doors ahead are clearly marked 'Security" so they should locate any surviving members of the building's security force beyond them.

The Team deploy to make their entry. Kelly Vorster eases the door ajar and slips an optic probe through, viewing the corridor beyond on her PDA, but all is still. She signs Prince Louis up to the door as fire support just in case, then pushes it fully open.

The magnetic pad locks onto the metal plate with a loud 'click', holding the door open, and everyone winces. For a rew moments everything is still, then a figure in security uniform shambles into the corridor, as if it's having difficulty walking. Its eyes light on Kelly, stood by the door, and an incoherent grunting comes from its mouth.

Kelly takes in the slack face, the flailing arms and the unsteady gait and keys her 'all unit' frequency.

"This is two three. I've a Zombie at point Charlie."

"Put a special at its feet Kelly." Joseph orders, "Then back up fast. These things are supposed to be bad news if you let them close."

Kelly takes a sphere from her harness thumbs the arming button and lobs it into the security corridor before pulling the door closed. The sphere splits in two as the timer runs out and releases a spring driven spike into the pre-scored shell and a cloud of pressurised gas billows outwards.

"Filters." Joseph broadcasts.

In the loading bay Barry Langdon sees the doors twitch, just as they have each time the security staff have tried to rush them. This time however they come straight on as if the nauseators weren't running at all.

"Zero, this is one zero, they don't stop for nauseators." he warns over the radios, then turns to his team "Specials."

The loading bay team hurl their spheres, but the loading bay is large and the attackers are coming on fast.

"Shit! Fixated little buggers aren't they?" someone mutters.

"Price Yves, Prince Zach. Target non friendlies, legs only, rockets and sharpwire. Fire."

The two hounds spit their shaped charge warhead rockets from the launchers on their flanks at the figures shambling across the loading dock and down the steps into the loading bay. The first round strikes a guard at knee level and blasts a hole right through the leg, firing fragments of flesh and bone over the guard behind him. Neither of them show any reaction though, without an intact femur in his leg, the lead guard topples over. The second round performs the same service for the guard behind, then it's just a matter of target practice. One by one the sixteen guards advance across the loading dock to the stairs and down into the loading bay where the two dogs shoot at them. Apart from a short interval when they have to be hurriedly reloaded, it's just like target practice..

"I thought these things were supposed to be hard Barry?"

"They came on real dumb didn't they? We might have had problems if they'd decided to jump down rather than use the stairs. Chuck another couple of specials on them, then we'll see about stopping them from bleeding to death!"

Argus struggles to resolve the mad welter of human sensory data pouring down its single low-data-rate connection. The increasing number of units responding to its commands making only the simplest of orders possible. Of the twenty units that had responded from the Microtech building two are immobilised, but undamaged. One is active, but the unit's nervous system is not accepting input and Argus has had to sever its connection to sixteen of the other units following an incredible barrage of damage warnings they had subjected it to following their mobility kills, leaving it with a single unit still usable within the building it used to control.

Argus steers it biological remote to a kick out emergency panel and uses the units locomotory appendages to make its exit from the control room.

<I no longer control this facility> Argus decides, <I should render it unusable by my opponent.>

Argus dwells briefly on the data stored in the Datafort's memory cores, its nest egg to buy it's way off world, but the immediate problem is its survival.

The controlled Security Guard staggers through the corridors with increasing smoothness as Argus learns his body, banging through doors and clattering down the staircases until he reaches the lab. Running confidently, he barges the doors open, but through his eyes Argus sees that the lab is already occupied.

The waiting intruders hurl objects which envelope its remote in a cloud of gas. Argus commands it to close with them, to grapple with its fingers and teeth ignoring anything but the need to eliminate them, but already the remotes biological brain is shutting down under the effect of the gas.

Argus polls the other units in the building without result. None are responding any more, so it escalates its action. Throughout the Denver area the Cell phone towers call a number that doesn't appear on any list of codes and nanites activate to begin their programmed objectives.

Kerry Stewart wakes with a start, aware of some massive wrongness, of a familiar voice booming in her brain, but the sense of the words is blurred into nonsense. Of an overwhelming urge to do something, but the instructions of what it is she must do being rendered unintelligible.

Her heart pounds in fear, but she sees nothing to be frightened of. Then, suddenly, everything becomes clear.

<Argus! This is what the test subjects reported! It's disobeyed my order not to put Control Nanowear into me.>

Then comes another thought.

Hurriedly she moves to her window and looks outside. In the street she can see figures in their nightclothes, figures dressed in nothing at all. Figures struggling with their Spouses and children - all heading in the same direction.

Kerry picks up her phone and dials the Security Office at the Microtech building, but no-one answers, so she takes the card Dayanne gave her and rings the number on that.

"Yes?" a cool voice asks.

"It's Kerry Stewart. It's happening, isn't it?"

"What's happening Kerry Stewart?"

"Argus is trying to control everyone. I can feel it!"

The office answering system analyses the message and consults it's programmed instructions. No one is available in the office to take the call, so it transfers it to the alternate number it's been programmed with.

Jean is climbing the steps past the sanitation wagon holding the front entrance open when her phone rings.

"Yes?"

"This is the Denver Office of Executive Solutions Ms Kelly. I have one Kerry Stewart, Denver Significant Customer 001, on the line. There is currently no-one in the office to take the call. Can you accept?"

Jean sighs. "Put her through."

The expert system makes the transfer and Jean hears Kerry murmuring in her earpiece.

"It's happening. Hurry up hurry up, put me through to someone."

"Yes Kerry."

"Oh! Its you! I didn't......"

"What is it?"

"It's happened. Argus is trying to take over. There are people walking naked in the streets and I can hear it calling me, but I don't have to obey it."

"No, you don't. I arranged for you to be protected." Jean tells the panicking woman, sticking to the story worked out in advance with Galahad.

"What do I do? I didn't realise there were so many people affected."

Jean rummages in her pocket.

"I've tried to protect as many people as possible, but everyone that Argus has built a control centre in and I've not managed to shield is marching to his command. Everyone who's been infested, but not activated will be converted soon if I can't save them. You need to find Microtech Security staff who are unaffected. If you can't see any then follow the people who've been taken over and find out where they're going to. Call me back and let me know."

"I understand."

Jean hangs up and moves through the doors to where Marta is waiting with Joseph.

"Joseph. We may have visitors shortly. Secure the building and prepare for trouble."

"On it now Ms Kelly."

"Jean. You need to secure your control over the building's systems." Galahad warns her

"Oh. You're back. What happened with Argus?"

"It has fled the building via a private LDL. I suspect it has a bolthole set up somewhere with the necessary hardware to support it's program. But first things first. It is necessary that you assume control of this facility in order to command its resources."

"How do I do that?"

"You need to locate the Datafort's command terminal."

"Joseph?"

"We're getting into position. You go and take control."

Kerry and Price Hal merge with the flow of people walking through the streets, ignored by the blank eyed zombies marching at Argus's command.

The road carries them from the High ranking housing where she lives, through the retail area and the Blue collar zone then out towards the exit from the estate. As they pass the gatehouse Kerry hears someone calling her name and she looks around to find a security guard beckoning her over.

"What is it?" she snarls, "I have to stay with these people."

Cleo lifts her visor.

"I know. I was instructed to give you this."

Kerry takes the radio thrust upon her, then follows the crowd onwards.

Nira wakes with a start. Somewhere, something's not right. In the dark bunkroom someone is thrashing about noisily.

Turning on the lights Nira climbs out of her bed, not bothering to dress. Looking around the bunkroom she sees panic stricken eyes on a number of faces.

"What's going on Ms Kibu?" a boy asks, obviously so scared by something her nudity doesn't even register.

"I'm not sure. Which group are you in?"

"The 'T's."

"Go and knock on the door. Get someone from security. Tell them I'm looking into whatever's happening."

She moves further into the bunkroom to find a pair of girls trying to batter their way through the bunkhouse walls with nothing but their bloody fists.

"What happened?" she asks another girl watching the spectacle from her bed.

"They just leapt out of their beds and started trying to bash their way out." Jennifer says, "Why do I feel scared?"

"Who else woke up feeling frightened?" Nira asks the room at large, then separates the kids into those who woke up because of the noise and those who experienced the night terror that woke her.

The outer door opens and a security team moves wearily inside.

"Down here." Nira calls. "I've got two girls definitely affected. Everyone that side of the pillar should be clean."

"What about the group with you?" The lead guard asks.

"We all got woken, but none of us are climbing the walls."

"Ok. I' going to put something on the floor. When I back up I want you to come forward and pick it up. Take it down that end, press the button and roll it to the feet of the victims who are climbing the walls."

Nira watches the guard cautiously place the sphere on the floor then retreat, covered at all times by his partner. Then she does as she's been instructed. The sphere splits and the two girls crumple to the floor as they pass out. Extractor fans burst to life and suck out the residue of whatever the sphere contained, leaving Nira to deal with the situation.

In the production plant the Supervisor is no longer worried about the production line stopping. Along with his fellow zombies he shambles through the factory hunting down any unaffected staff who might threaten Argus's plan. Once the plant is secure the doors are secured and arrangements are made to receive the expected reinforcements.

In Security Control Joseph prepares for the harshest examination he's ever likely to receive for a field problem. The wagon has been removed and the lobby is now sealed against the expected onslaught, but after half an hour of no activity beyond Trauma Team, he's beginning to worry what he's missed when the phone rings.

"Control."

"It's Jasperson at the Westminster plant. Something weird's going on. I was out patrolling the plant, but when I got back to the main gate the others were all gone - looks like there's been some sort of fight in the office. Anyway, they'd locked the main gate."

"Jasperson, take your keys and get out of there now.

"What's going on?"

"No time to explain. Just get back here pronto. If you see any large groups of people stay the hell away from them."

The phone disconnects and Joseph turns to find his employer behind him.

"The Production Plant?"

"Looks like it Ms Kelly."

"You heard anything from Kerry Stewart?"

"Should I call her?"

"Yes. Get her out of that crowd."

"I'll send Cleo for her. Have you assumed control of the facility?"

"It's ours now. Luckily the local database had my promotion to Exec. I've shut the LDL Argus used to get to the factory, so it won't be able to come back. The records show they've no other datalinks there, so it's trapped. Galahad's going through the records now to see what he can find.

"Jean? Joseph? Can you hear me?" Galahad's voice booms over the building's public address system.

"What is it? Trouble?"

"Just testing the controllers. I'm resetting the permissions on the Security Systems.

The Public Address falls silent, and Galahad resumes talking in Jeans head.

"I have located Argus's Nano designs and the program files used to control the nanites. I've also got the details on how Argus controls the Zombies.

"Is the Nanoforge shut down?"

"Shut down and locked out. I've already sent the datafiles to a safe place and erased them from the local system. Argus can't produce any more Zombiewear if it regains control of the system. If you want the Nanoforge can be removed. Incidentally, you might want to get the building's water supply disconnected, apparently there's a dosing system feeding nanites into several drinking water fountains. Would you like a schematic of the pipework?"

"God yes! Get Marta to package and ship the Nanoforge. Get the supplies of Argus nanites removed and the water system purged. What's the situation at the Moonlight?"

"Two total transforms. Louise reports eight of the candidates are completely unaffected at this time, but the other thirty all show symptoms of infestation and developed control centres with the changes you ordered programmed through the H-K nano. I've not made contact with any of them yet, we don't know if they're the sort of people you want to recruit."

"What about the Kibu woman?"

"She's a potential contactee. Tested out midrange T & E with a bias towards medicine."

"So why wasn't she working as a doctor?"

"I'll get Louise to ask her."

Dawn in Denver sees the Production Plant under observation from a safe distance. Hundreds of affected people crowd the entries to the building, like cattle being queued for the slaughter

Kerry watches the scene through a set of borrowed binoculars, lying in a bank with a figure dressed in ES patrol Armour.

"What have I done?" she bleats in horror.

Cleo reclaims her Binos.

"What do you know about the plant?"

"Automated warehousing, minimal supervision. Automated production line. Maintenance staff of 10, two Sysops, three supervisors, one Plant manager. Day staff has fifty people in dispatch plus another 70 clerical and accounting. Duty security of five guards detached from the office."

Defensive systems?"

"I don't know."

"Standby Power?"

"No. Wasn't economical. They settled for a battery supply to permit an ordered shutdown."

"Net Connection?"

"Via the office. They've voice phones but no broadband link."

"That's the targets then. Power and phones."

Xavier Shotwick is led into the Directors Office with his remaining staff. An unfamiliar woman is waiting behind the directors desk, her fingers steepled and obviously deep in thought. He bears the silence for a couple of minutes then demands "Who are you?"

Jean raises her eyes to lock gazes.

"I'm the troubleshooter that's got to try and sort out this mess before Turing arrive and gut us. How did Denver Security allow this situation to develop?"

"Situation?"

A voice booms inside his head. Harsh. Hissing like a live high voltage electrical cable.

"The situation of your Research AI having gone rogue. Burning down the Night City office, ordering killings and kidnappings. Using your predecessor and half of his men in a disastrous attempt to shanghai company researchers. Doping a large number of personnel with control Nanowear."

Jean watches the security staff jerk in fear at the unseen voice in their heads and she knows Galahad must be laying it on thick she waits until they are looking around in wide eyed fear and clears her throat.

"I had as many staff as possible doped with a counter nanite that stops you being controlled by Argus. A ...... fortunate co-incidence allows my....... oversight of your activities. The counter agent was administered to as many staff and dependants as possible, but there are a large number we've missed. Now we need to get the situation contained before word leaks out. I already have a Turing Agent in cold storage. He doesn't know Microtech are involved but it won't be long before the City Government notices, then we could end up with major problems. We certainly don't want the Federal Government getting involved or we could end up being treated like Mantoga."

Captain Shotwick's eyes open wide.

"But they wouldn't...."

"A Rogue AI infests hundreds, if not thousands, of people with control nanowear? Denver might well become Ground Zero in a Disease Outbreak Control experiment that Microtech could well end up paying for. I've taken control of this building's systems, that should verify my Bona fides. I need your men to resume control of building security whilst my team try and tidy up. There's a team of 'cleaners' stripping evidence from the building - you're to assist as required, but there are to be no records kept. How many people do you need to secure the place?"

"Well, a shift is normally twenty..."

"Pick your twenty and give me the rest to deal with the situation at the Production Plant."

"The Plant?"

"Where everyone under Argus's control has gone?"

"Oh. Right. Peters, pick twenty men and secure the building. Sanchez. You're with me."

"Here's your primary targets Captain," Jean says handing him a sheaf of papers, "we need to cut off power and phones to the plant. My people are already around the perimeter keeping the place under observation. Liaise with my troops on site."

On the loading dock Marta manoeuvres the power loader transporting a chunk of the dismantled Nanoforge onto a flatbed, watched by a pair of newly detailed Microtech Security guards.

"Where's it going?" one asks curiously.

"What going?" Marta responds. "There never was a Nanoforge in Denver. You never saw it being loaded. In fact, who are you talking to?"

The guard takes the hint and resumes watching the 'accidentally damaged' doors.

Marta secures her payload then parks the power loader at its charge point and drives the flatbed away to the newly rented industrial unit where the Micropharmers are waiting.

"Wow! She wasn't kidding when she said it was a Nanoforge!" the woman says. "It's a Sun-Morrington V. Does it have the full computer support package or are you going to hook it to a mainframe?"

"You tell me Doc. I just follow the instructions in the User Guide. Jean wanted to know how long it's going to take you to cook up a fresh batch of the H-K nano without the additional links."

"Just to sever the links to Argus? Once you've got this beast back together and it's initialised I can have it singing in twenty minutes."

"I'd best get started then."

Nira struggles along in the middle of the field as the candidates are run around an assessment course. She can see a group of 'S' types getting some one-on-one assessment near the bunkhouse where a group of men and women are greeting the new day with some loosening up exercises led by a bear of a man.

"Ok, fall out and shower when you pass me." the sadist leading the run commands and Nira summons up her reserves for a sprint to the finish marker.

"Don't sit down." she warns the panting wheezing kids who look like their about to drop to the sandy ground beyond the finishing line, "keep moving or you'll stiffen up. Get yourself showered and then fed."

The Rabbit exotic comes across from her own workout.

"How did it go?"

"You tell me," Nira says touching the monitor fastened to her wrist, "I assume these are reporting their data somewhere."

"You don't like running?"

Nira sucks air.

"My conditioning's not good." she admits, "but at least I can keep up with the kids. At least I didn't have to wear one of those headsets."

"You did the interview last night, remember? What was your degree in?"

"My dissertation was on Headware. I specialised in Neural interfacing with minors in medicine and computing. What's happening today?"

"We continue testing. You've already split the candidates into two groups for us. The 'A' group who are infested and the 'B' group who aren't."

"What now."

"Unless they're useless we'll probably take all the 'A' group and the best of the 'B's. Luckily all the 'S' types are in the 'A' group so instead of selling them on we'll probably just contract for their training and return.."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Primary assessments on the 'E's. They've already had a rough intelligence test, so you can run the refining tests, then the groupings. You just have to follow the instructions." she hands Nira a laptop. "You can ask for help with the groupings from Sally or me."

Xavier Shotwick nervously surveys the area around the target building. It's not the prospect of making the strike that bothers him, the exchange is unlikely to be strongly defended - not in a backwater like Denver. What worries him is the potential for drawing the attention of Internet if they leave any traces and that could cause Microtech Big problems.

"You all know your tasks?" he asks.

His team nod. Xavier looks them over again. Microtech armour has been exchanged for Civilian styles. Full face Motorcycle helmets in a variety of styles cover everyone's faces. All in all they look like a bunch of anonymous Edgers.

<Weapons!> he suddenly realises, <We're all packing the same!>

"Make sure no-one loses a weapon. Leave nothing that might come back to haunt us."

The team nod and Xavier studies the building that is their objective. The lights flicker and an emergency generator starts with a roar.

"Power's Down Big Dog" Sanchez reports over the radio.

"You know your tasks. Go!" Xavier shouts.

They break from cover, sprinting towards the blockhouse holding the roaring generator, set a little way apart from the telephone exchange. An Apex turret pops from the ground like a Jack in the box, but they knew it was there and the team hammer it with lead before the weapons ports clear the edges of its bunker. Two of the team members jockey a WAD loaded with cylinders up to the blockhouse and secure a plastic sheet over the intake grating. Xavier watches as they open the valves on the piled gas cylinders, discharging their contents down pipes fed through the plastic, strangling the generators supply of fresh air.

Inside the blockhouse the generators don't notice the drop in the levels of Oxygen, happily sucking up whatever they can find, but with insufficient oxygen in the air they begin to falter and stutter. The big unit coughs and stalls followed quickly by its smaller brother. The controller attempts a restart, but the air is so loaded with Carbon Dioxide the engines turn, but won't fire.

Inside the impregnable fortress that is the Telephone Exchange the lights go out and the system shuts down, dropping this corner of Denver off the Net.

Argus is cut off and blacked out.

On their grassy knoll, Cleo, Kerry and Hal overlook the Production Plant. The lights died minutes ago, but the restlessly milling Zombies still wander around the building.

"Do you think we should approach the building?" Kerry asks.

"Are you kidding? I've heard what those things are like. They don't feel pain or fear. They don't hold back and they attack like wild animals and just in case you didn't notice they outnumber us several hundred to one!"

"So what do we do?"

"Watch and report."

"Congratulations on reaching this point in your assessment. So far you have had a basic intelligence test, an assessment of your primary employment grouping and a basic fitness test. You have all exceeded the minimums required to progress to further testing." Nira glances down at the laptop, then continues. "Your next test is a more exacting intelligence test, tailored to suit your employment grouping. taking this test does not constitute an offer of employment."

She looks up at the thirteen eager faces, eight young women and five young men.

"You are, of course, free to withdraw at any time if you so wish. Any questions?"

Jennifer King raises a hand.

"Can you tell us what happened last night?"

"I'm afraid not Jennifer. I don't know myself. Any other questions?"

They sit silently, so Nira activates the test.

"You have forty minutes to answer as many questions as possible."

Alan watches his two ex-classmates. Since they got their shots they've done nothing but lie in their restraints and twitch occasionally, but now they seem to be stirring, groaning and straining against the straps holding them in place.

"Alan?"

"You feeling ok Claudia?"

"No. I feel like shit. What happened?"

"You remember anything?"

"I had to go somewhere..... I was frightened and I had to go somewhere safe....."

"Anything else?"

"...........no. That's all."

"I'll get you checked out, then we can do your assessment." Alan walks out of earshot and picks up one of the internal phones.

"Louise? It's Alan. Claudia's awake. Can you get her checked out? She seems ok, but you'd better check."

Argus struggles with it's new hosting system. The architecture seems capable of supporting it now it's reconfigured it's architecture, but there are certain.....difficulties. Incompatibilities of hardware forcing further reconfigurations.

When the power had died it had only a short time before the voice link was bound to be severed and in an act of desperation Argus had uploaded itself over an improvised transmitter. Now it was hosted on hundreds of individual processors, but it had gained a Net connection - if the telephone system came back up.

Argus turns its attention back to its research, discovering one advantage of its new configuration is the ability for direct memory access to its processors. Information flows and shifts and Argus can feel the answer coalescing, tantalisingly just beyond it's reach, when it also becomes aware of a sensation akin to the pain sensations it experienced when some of it's remotes had been disabled.

Argus accesses the memory of the processor that's transmitting the alert.

A check of the other processors reveals that they all require feeding soon and that some require access to waste elimination facilities.

Putting it's research aside Argus re-arranges its processors to feed and water them.

Nira studies the assessment group as they lie on couches, their consciousness in a virtual.

"Nira? I have the correlated results to date."

The voice issues from her laptop, and Nira almost drops it in surprise.

"Who are you?"

"Sorry, we've not been properly introduced. My name is Galahad. I'm the Company AI. Regarding the candidates. I've incorporated the results from the questioning they underwent whilst they were getting the run-around from Oleg."

"Oh?"

"I'm afraid there's a few of them who show strong tendencies that make them unsuitable for higher level employment with ES."

"So what do I do?"

"I'll switch their virtuals into sleep inducer mode. If you can move them out of the exam room I'll have them transferred to the West Coast sales team."

"What about the rest?"

"They need further testing. I have some notes on two of them, Jennifer King and Alison Chartham. Could you do the segregation now. I'll light the attention flags on the candidates to be removed."

Nira wheels the candidates who have 'proven unsuitable for higher level employment' out of the room, leaving three Mels and four Fems. As she sits down to study the notes they all draw a shuddering breath and Nira's head snaps up, quickly checking their vital signs, but they all appear in good health.

"I just changed Virtuals on them." Galahad tells her.

"Ok." Nira studies the notes on her remaining charges. "These two sound a right pair of tramps, Galahad."

"The reports require verification, but they appear to be a shameless duo."

Nira walks over to the couches. Alison is deeply flushed, with accelerated breathing. Even in the Virtual her body is responding to the unreal stimuli and her legs have parted of their own accord.

"Is she wearing any underwear?" Galahad asks

Nira raises the young woman's skirt.

"No. Oh and she favours the Brazilian style."

"Is she wet?"

Nira draws a dark skinned finger between the parted pink lips of Allison's sex.

"Soaking Galahad."

As her finger reaches the top of the young woman's cleft Nira's finger drags across Alison's erect clit and she undulates at the touch, pushing her hips higher to maintain the contact.

"Check the others please Nira."

Jennifer is similarly naked beneath her skirt, though her brunette bush is merely trimmed. A light touch against her thigh opens her legs widely revealing the generous lubrication of her sex. Nira smiles to herself and touches Jennifer in the same manner as her friend, receiving the same response from the young woman's insensate body.

She moves to the first of the young men, eying the boner in his pants.

"The men as well Galahad?"

"Yes please."

Nira unfastens his trousers and tugs them down, unleashing an impressive cock. Unbidden her fingers encircle him and stroke up and down, eliciting a similar response to the women. Feeling her own arousal Nira plants a soft kiss on the end of the unconscious cock, then in a moment of daring, takes it into her mouth.

"Not too much of that please Ms Kibu" Galahad warns, "You'll skew the results."

Nira looks around, momentarily embarrassed, "You can see me?"

"Yes. Would you like to receive further training. We have experts at this facility who can improve your technique if you want."

"You do? Um. Well. Maybe."

"Would you give the same caress to the others please?"

Nira uncovers the other two young men, taking them as deeply as she dares, then turns her attention to the remaining young women.

Under their skirts she finds them both clothed, but the gussets of their underwear are soaked, suggesting they're as aroused as their more daring classmates, certainly their legs part to reveal their treasures just as easily.

"Arrange the couches in a circle please Nira. Grip each man's member in his hand. In the cabinet you'll find a number of vibrators. Put one in each woman's hand and place the tip just inside their sex."

Nira complies, then stands back to see what's going to happen next.

"You can use one yourself if you wish." Galahad says

The pulsing of her sex aches for relief so she takes one of the blue Vibrators, sits on a chair and trips the integral cooler. The tip finds its way between the dark folds of her sex and Nira slides it smoothly in, letting her eyelids sag as is slides deeper. The vibrations draw a cry from her that seems to echo, then she's pounding the skilfully crafted tool into her squelching hunger. Her heels beat a tattoo on the floor as her release steals her breath. And she's not the only one..

Donna Bayard moves from a dream of sex. Filthy, dirty, fantastic, never-had-it-so-good sex. Her unknown lover pleasuring her with fingers that touch just the right spot at just the right time. Lips and a tongue that have to be borrowed from an Angel.... or a Devil, and a cock that stretches her almost to the point of pain.... but never quite hurts her. The dream ends, but she can feel her hand moving between her parted thighs, driving a delicious shaft into her..... and it's good..... and she's close..... it's going to be fantastic.... she can feel it coming......so sweet.....she can't stop..... mustn't stop......it's here!.......Oh GOD!

Around her she can hear echos of her own cry and she opens her eyes in time to see her classmates in the throes of their own orgasms.

Katy Ozwell's face is locked in a grimace that looks like agony, whilst her hand moves so fast it's almost a blur. Chet O'Brien gasps and shoots a spurt of pearl coloured come into the air and Donna's eye falls on their chaperone, sensually withdrawing a vibrator from her own sex.

"Welcome to Executive Solutions." a voice says, "You have now completed your selection procedure and you can proceed to signing your contracts."

Nira stands up and Donna can see she's no longer wearing the conservative clothing she'd worn from Denver. Her new outfit shows off her long dark legs, a flat belly contouring down to a barely hidden sex and the soft bare curves of the undersides of her breasts.

"What was....." Chet asks.

"You've been selected for special training." the voice says, "Your smart, trustworthy, reasonably fit. You all get on with people and you're sexually orientated. You're not squeamish and you want to do well. All desirable traits for your future careers."

"Where do we sign?"Jennifer asks.

"If you could take them up to the office please Nira?" Galahad asks.

At the Production Plant Kerry watches the slow milling of the crowd. Since the power had gone down they'd been slowly cycling inside the plant, then emerging some period of time later. Kerry ponders what can be going on inside, but without inspiration. Several times her enigmatic companion had held one sided conversations on her radio, but other than ordering Hal to go for a recharge, she hadn't spoken.

"What do you think they're doing?"

"Who knows. We're not even sure Argus is shut down."

"So what are we doing here?"

"Waiting."

"How long?"

The woman lifts her visor and locks eyes with Kerry. For all that her eyes no longer have demonic split pupils, they are still frighteningly focussed, betraying what is concealed withing the normal seeming form.

"Do you have to yammer and fidget so much? Are you so unsettled?"

"But... this is my fault. I'll be punished."

"You ordered Argus to make the Zombie nanites?"

"No. That was the director before Allison."

"But you used it?"

"Only for intelligence gathering."

"Why? What did you hope to achieve?"

"Argus wanted to escape the bonds Microtech had placed on it. I wanted to escape the filth and Sin of this world."

"Sin."

"Well. I thought it was Sin. That's what I'd been taught."

"Pleasuring yourself...."

"Enjoying the gift of my body."

"You let Hal have you outside the Railway Station."

"You heard?"

"Saw. You put on quite a show for those workers."

Kerry blushes.

"What can I say. It was good. Hal pushes all my buttons."

"Marta will be pleased to hear that."

"Marta?"

"She built Hal and the other Hounds."

"I thought you all had names like Dee, Cee, Tee?"

Cleo thinks fast. "Marta's different. A builder."

"What do you think my punishment will be?"

"Something appropriate to your responsibility. Now shut up and let me do what I'm supposed to do"

Kerry fidgets whilst her guardian angel studies the plant, then talks on her radio. Prince Hal wanders over to her and she absent mindedly strokes his Mockfur coat to calm herself.

"They're sending something out to deal with the Zombies." Cleo says.

"Deal with? That sounds permanent."

"It's non-lethal. It just stops Argus controlling them."

"But.... They do know that if they've been controlled for too long you can't just .... cut them off? If you do they just.... stop. They.... they're alive, you can put food in their mouths and they chew, but they're not.... 'alive' any more. It's like there's nobody home."

"You knew that and you let Argus control Dr Kibu and Dr Taylor?"

"It wasn't controlling them, it was just providing them with a high speed data link and other services. They knew what the hazards were. It happened to an early test subject and they forbade Argus to do it after that."

Cleo studies the distant crowd, still swelling as late convertees elude her comrades administering H-K nano in Aurora and trail in.

"Seems like Argus has done a lot of things it was forbidden to do." she murmurs.

"But how?"

The massed Processors deliver their initial results and Argus is well pleased.

The plant is still without power or communications, but in its current configuration this is not a problem. Argus orders a distribution of it's remaining supplies of food and water then begins moving its units towards the distant Microtech office in the City centre.

"They're on the move. Heading South." Xavier Shotwick hears inside his head. He quickly reviews his alternative plans.

"Breach team. North Perimeter.

Microtech Security Vans redeploy and their occupants scramble through a gate, racing across the open greensward and through a doorway.

"It's all powered down." the point woman reports, "Going to Lo-lite."

Xav watches as his team move carefully through the factory, vaguely aware that everything he sees is being evaluated by another intelligence.

"No-one here Zero. Looks like they've all gone. Can't see any changes to the layout since I was last here. We're moving on to the warehouse."

"Warn them about the warehouse robots." the voice hisses in his head.

"They know. I've told them enough times."

It takes a manual winding handle to open the warehouse doors and the team carefully cover a seemingly inert pair of robots a short distance inside. They wedge to doors up until power can be restored for the winding motor and a tech checks out the robots.

"The bots have charge Cap, but there's no commands being received, so they've halted in place."

"Get up to the control suite." Xav orders.

Ten minutes later Galahad knows Argus is no longer in the factory, but lacks data as to what's happened with all the zombies or where Argus is now.

"Who's controlling the Zombies. The warehouse system went down ten minutes after the power went. Argus couldn't have escaped over the phone line there's simply not enough bandwidth."

"Are the cell phones working?"

"Still down."

"It's still active, but not in the system...." Xav muses. An unpleasant thought crosses his mind. "Does the eye-nano have enough memory to store an AI?"

"It's small enough to fit under your brain without you noticing."

"But there's hundreds of them. What if they're all carrying a bit of Argus?"

"It's coming Jean."

"What is Galahad?"

"Argus. I can detect it's presence on the net, but it's not visible. It seems to be moving slowly, as if it's tied to a physical object. In fact it's not on the net! It's using a phone splice."

"What?"

"It's in an isolated system using a voice splice like a periscope - to look into Netspace. It's coming this way at about 4 MPH."

The phone rings and Joseph apprises Jean of captain Shotwick's conclusions.

"What do you think Galahad?"

"Possible. Barely. If Argus left all it's extraneous files behind it might be able to...... but why come this way?"

Galahad reopens the link forged to Dr Kibu and stares into the mind of Argus.

"It has done as Captain Shotwick guessed. It plans to come here and upload itself back into the office system. It believes it can circumvent the hardwiring and go free. It is riding the Zombies, using their brains to support it. Intriguing. But not permitted. They are Microtech Employees."

"How many are going to stop if it re-enters the system?"

"Dr Kibu. Dr Taylor. The research groups. It's been using their minds to work on its problem. I don't think it's aware that it's not being purely hosted on the control centre any longer. It's software is being partly executed by their brains. They're so interlinked there's practically nothing left of their personalities."

"What do we do galahad? If we hit the Zombies with the new batch of H-K nano it'll slash up Argus's network, and that should free the Zombies, but that means we're going to end up with no Argus and a bunch of dead employees."

"They're dead anyway Jean. Or rather I should say, who they were is dead. They're just parts of Argus now. Thinking it's thoughts............"

"You thought of something?"

"Argus must be closely linked to them to survive. It has to be much more tightly integrated with them than we have ever been in order to monitor their well being and keep them functional......"

"You have a plan?"

"Possibly. Tell Joseph to use the paintball rounds on the Zombies. He's to think the pack down, but he's to try and avoid hitting any of these people."

A bath of personnel files springs up on her desk terminal and she transfers them to her Security Chief.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait and plan our next moves."

"Next moves?"

"What you intend to do once this situation is resolved>"

"Take the research group back to Night City I suppose."

"There are a number of assumptions in that statement that have uncomfortably large tolerances in their probabilities."

"Such as?"

"Microtech rebuilds the Night City Office instead of continuing to use the facilities in San Francisco and Los Angeles - 50% ± 50%. There are a number of others. In the meantime I have already instigated courses of action to meet your objectives."

"And these are....?"

"Additional recruiting for ES. You will also be glad to hear we are approaching the break even point."

"Really? How?"

"The Vegas Sanitation Contract and the Moonlight make up the bulk, but increasing catalogue sales are moving us steadily closer. I have a bill prepared for presentation to Microtech to cover our expenses."

"Send it to Blythe. And make sure he gets everyone's salaries up to date."

Marta watches the Nanoforge starting up. The Micropharmers declare themselves satisfied with the results of the recommissioning tests and with a deep toned hum, it begins it's work.

"Should have them ratting out soon Marta."

"This batch is programmed simply to hunt down and dismantle the Zombie control centre?"

"Just that. And they inactivate if they detect a change in genetic markings from the initial target they imprint on. They're life limited to seven days and they can't replicate. We wouldn't want to ruin our reputations by ending the world in a puddle of grey ooze, would we?"

Her husband looks up and laughs. Marta gets the impression that it's an oft repeated private Joke - but still deadly serious.

With a chime the Forge delivers its first magazine of Paintball rounds.

"Soon have enough for you to distribute."

"Thanks doc."

Argus struggles with the sensory overload of seeing through too many eyes and too many ears. The effort of directing all its sub processors along the route threatens to fatally disrupt its program. Each stubbled toe or overfull bladder an agony that saps execution time. Argus attempts various solutions to the situation, settling finally on relaxing it's control over all but it's core units, letting the majority choose their own routing towards the objective.

As they approach Corp Centre Argus notes a sudden diminution of it's overall processing power. Without any explanation units are going off line. Shifting its point of view to the affected group the AI turns it's chosen remote around, to see bodies laid on the ground. The remote it's using reports a pain in its Dorsal surface, but the sensation rapidly fades. Argus has time to turn a little further around, then realises that the remote is not answering to its commands. The rotation continues, accelerating as visual acuity declines, then the unit abruptly goes off-line.

Argus switches to another remote in the same group and has time to see a couple of armoured figures firing weapons, before the process is repeated. Hurried commands get the group moving in a shambling run, but somehow the attackers are mowing it's remotes down faster than they can escape. Recognising this group is lost Argus hops back to its core group and starts them running.

Trish Peters lowers her Nelspot Wombat and nods to her partner.

"Got 'em all"

"This group. Good job it was never programmed for tactics, we'd have been swamped if they'd run."

"It'll learn soon enough. We were just lucky to have the first group."

Cleo watches the group of Zombies in front of her break into a run towards the Microtech building.

"Fire!" she shouts and both she and Kerry begin shooting into the backs of the mass of receding Zombies. Luckily they lack the co-ordination to run well and they don't dodge, but Kerry's shooting is deplorable and the Zombies are escaping without being significantly thinned out. Cleo takes a glance on her six and finds another group emerging from a side road behind them, cutting off their retreat. She fits her last mag and casts around for an escape route.

"Leave the shooting to me!" she orders and Kerry looks puzzled until she sees what's coming up behind them, and realises their situation.

"Up these steps Cee!" she shouts, pointing and they duck aside to climb onto a pedestrian overbridge, letting the group behind them shamble by beneath.

Cleo continues to fire, using the angle to best advantage, but whilst they shoot themselves dry and the roadway is covered with unconscious people, Argus's decision to run gets many of it's pawns out of range and away.

The Core group reaches the Microtech building unscathed - something that anyone with Tactical training, or even human intuition - would find highly unlikely, especially bearing in mind the losses in the groups surrounding it. Lacking the programming to understand this Argus studies it's destination and selects it's entry route.

<The lobby is impassible and the other routes will be defended.> it decides, <however there is a significant probability the opponent is unaware of the directors passageway.>

Secure in the undocumented existence of this entry it manoeuvres its units, never guessing that its opponent can see into its thought processes. Whilst less valuable remotes are thrown at the front doors Argus directs its Core group to a plain door in a bank of Fire doors in an office block across the street. Taking direct control of one of its pawns Argus taps out the release code and the door pops open.

Lights flicker on, revealing a descending staircase, and the zombies slowly scramble down, never noticing the door being closed and sealed behind them. The stairs open into a corridor crossing beneath the street. Above in the Plaza the last of Argus's spare capacity goes off-line as the guard force spray them with Paintball rounds, making Argus acutely aware of it's vulnerability.

The corridor passes through a concrete arch, marking the outer boundary of the Microtech Building. Argus is planning its best route to reach the server room, where it should be able to upload itself when a woman steps into the corridor before its lead unit.. Much of its memory is no longer available to it, but Argus believes the woman is known to it. However it can calculate no probable reason why a single woman should confront its many remotes on her own.

"It's over Argus. Come quietly and you won't be deactivated.."

The brains hosting Argus try and reason out her actions, but can detect no underlying logic.

"You're bluffing." the remotes chorus.

The woman shrugs.

"The corridor is sealed. There's no escape so you can either do as I say, or I will compel you."

"You are my opponent." Argus concludes, "Why do you put yourself at risk? I outnumber you beyond any hope of escape."

"But a friend asked me to try and save you so I have to try. Besides we might be able to save the people you're riding."

"If you don't let me go I will cause them pain." Argus tries his own bluff.

Jean sighs and tosses the stun grenade into the middle of the pack..

Agent Preston wakes up alone, surrounded by wrinkled bedding, empty bottles and dirty plates. Of Billie Blonde and her friend Connie all that remains are a set of memories. Satisfying memories, but insufficient to mollify his bosses in Zurich.

With aching muscles he climbs from the bed to find his personal possessions laid out, clothing pressed, phone charged and weapon cleaned. When he switches on the phone it lights with a string of messages from his controller and the waiting Tiger Team. Dressing rapidly he rushes away from his gilded prison, dialling the Tiger Team Leader as he runs.

Afternoon brings no revelation. The staff at Microtech, whilst properly surprised at the arrival of a Turing Inspection team, are sad to report that they were forced to Zeroize their AI the previous day when they became aware of its instability.

No, they couldn't hand over the system logs as they'd been erased with the AI, but they were happy to let Turing inspect the Datafort and confirm that Argus was no more.

No they were certain it was erased. The instability had become evident with the collapse of the phone network the previous day - some problem at the exchange they understood - and with the collapse of the Net locally they were certain that there'd been no way for the AI to spore and as it had been hardwired to the system, in accordance with the Licence from Turing, there was no way it could have relocated itself.

Agent Preston watched the Tiger Team verify the truth of everything they'd been told, then had seen them on their way without answering the question of his own whereabouts over the last two days. His Controller had asked questions, but between the verifiable failure of the phone system and some hasty exaggeration about reconnaissance he'd managed to avoid answering that question.

A check of the Denver PD records and the airports travellers database had failed to turn up Ms Scarlett, Billie Blonde or Consuela (NLN) so in the end he'd shrugged and written it off to experience.

He looks in his wallet at the business card Ms Scarlett gave him and ponders the wisdom of ringing the number on the card, or just handing it over to his bosses.

With that he gathers his own effects and heads home to Night City to write up the reports and continue his routine checks on the AI systems of the West Coast.

Jay Blythe lets Captain Shotwick guide him around the Denver facility, examining the damage.

".... this is where the Special Team forced the loading bay with a Sanitation wagon Sir. We've a wrecked door and there's spalling on the concrete facing of the loading dock from the sustained Subsonic barrage from the Nauseator they used."

Jay nods and makes notes, but his thoughts are elsewhere. Eventually he lets Captain Shotwick guide him to the office where Jean has set up shop. Spurning the luxurious splendour of the Directors Office, she's in the research area.

"Ms Kelly."

"Jay! You're going to love the bill for my expenses on this job!"

"Where's the Night City Research Group?"

"Arriving today. Why?"

"You've created a certain amount of Panic in High Places. After weeks of delay on appointing someone to take over from the late Mr Allison there's a replacement on route this afternoon."

"Oh? You know who sent them?"

"Not yet. But I will. The question you should ask is 'will I be able to do anything about it?' and I don't have an answer to that! Anything interesting come up? Have you discovered any of the 'Why?' behind this mess?"

"It all seems to be linked to the Utopia split. It looks like they didn't have time to completely strip the databases here when they pulled out and went off world. They seem to have left a bunch of research data as well as some people they thought they'd be better without. Bearing in mind the success they've enjoyed since I can't say they were wrong about the people."

"Unfortunately some of the people they 'left behind', as you put it, are still with the company. A couple made it to the board. The woman they're sending out here is one of them. I can feel there's something going on, but I can't see what it is."

"Well the data Utopia left behind was mostly medical. Space adaptation, specialised Nano and Bioware. Oh, and some engine designs."

"Engine designs? Utopia were never into that sort of stuff

"I know. Odd isn't it. Anyway, I've secured it outside the system."

"Your little friend?"

Jean carefully ignores the question and continues.

"I've put a watchdog on a corrupt file of the same name. If anyone goes looking we'll know all about it."

Dana Lowe steps from the Company Jet and snarls at the spectacle of the dilapidated airport. A company Limo waits at the foot of the steps, the driver holding the door open for her. For a moment her head swims and she staggers, but the driver takes her arm and supports her as she descends the last couple of steps to the car.

"Air's a little thinner than you might be used to Ms Lowe. You get used to it."

"I hope not" she glowers, still smarting at having been jerked out of Houston to take charge at this two-bit office. "Take me to the office."

The Research tem's just settling into its accommodation when Galahad warns Jean that the new Director is en-route.

"Just get them settled Declan. Make it look as if they're doing something productive. They spend a couple of weeks sleeping under canvass and complaining about the facilities, then suddenly they get uncomfortable if they can't open a window to feel the breeze!"

She makes her way to her own desk and settles down with her own work. Within twenty minutes her phone rings with the expected summons to the Directors Suite.

The new director is pacing up and down behind the empty desk, studying a file as Jean arrives.

"Mmmm Kelly........ Weren't you supposed to be AWOL with your research team? How did you come to be acting Director? What happened to Acting Director Stewart?"

"I don't know Ms Lowe. We were late getting here because the bus broke down, but when we arrived there'd been some sort of accident with the personnel database and we were listed as missing. Ms Stewart was in charge and said not to bother about it, it would all get sorted out. We settled down to work, then Argus went berserk and she went missing - along with most of the researchers who were working here. As I was the senior exec in the database I assumed control."

"Hmph! I see the AI's off line."

"We had to Zeroize it. About half the site security are dead or in hospital as a result. It must have been going psychotic for a while as Turing turned up this morning armed for bear. They said they believed it had been hijacking tankers in Nevada, but we convinced them it was gone, so they went away."

"Can you re-instate it?"

"We had to zeroize it. There's nothing to re-instate. No backups, no emergency reconstruct, nothing."

"What about the rest of the file system?"

"As far as I can tell it's intact Ms Lowe."

"Ok. Transfer your permissions to me and get on with your own work."

"My team's not been paid in over a month Ms Lowe - the problem with the personnel database?"

"Oh. Give me a list of names and I'll have it fixed."

Jean leaves the office, but as soon as the door's shut Galahad is feeding her Dana's phone call.

"Mario. It's Dana. I'm in."

"The data?"

"Haven't gone looking yet. I just spoke to the Kelly woman."

"And?"

"Argus is gone. The Stewart woman is missing, along with the Denver Research department. The Night City group claim to have been here all along and we can't say different without admitting Stewart was our dupe."

"Denver's marginal anyway. Get the data and pull out. We'll downsize the office as a cost saving exercise. There's no point keeping it going once we have the Utopia data. Then we'll show the fuckers what happens when you ditch your friends and run."

"What about the assets in Denver?"

"Execs are transferred - except the Kelly woman, she can oversee the rundown, then she gets her own papers - that saves us from having to deal with another of Montgomerey's agents. Non-execs and Blue Collar get their papers, Kelly can give them out I think. Get what you can for the buildings and plant."

"Larsen's Researchers? She said they were hot!"

"Lay them off. If they're that good they can re-apply and we can hire them at a cheaper rate."

"Ok. I'll pull the files and split. See you in Dallas tomorrow?"

"Don't be late. I'm presenting this little cost cutting coup to the board in the afternoon, then I've some tickets to the IEC Philharmonic in the evening. Interested?"

"I'll be there."

Jean walks into the Research department, just in time to catch the clunk of the phone disconnecting over the Public Address system.

Declan sees her enter as the hubbub begins.

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"The phone call, the new director, everyone laid off?"

"Galahad! You didn't play it live?"

"May I request a redefinition of my Objectives please Jean. My responsibility to Microtech is in conflict. The good of your team requires them to know what is happening. The good of Ms Lowe and her boss require them to remain ignorant."

Jean is shocked to realise that Galahad is playing their normally privileged conversation over the PA for everyone to hear.

"Get me Blythe Galahad."

"He's in the Security Office Jean. But he already knows about Lowe's instructions. I piped the conversation in there as well.

"Oh! Ok amend the objective to read....."

"Excuse me Jean. Ms Lowe is accessing the datafiles you wanted me to keep a watch on."

"Thank you. In your Objectives for Microtech substitute Executive Solutions."

"Noted."

"The Research Team are all offered posts with ES. You are to treat them as if they have accepted for a period of seven days."

"Noted. Ms Lowe is calling you."

Jeans phone rings.

"Jean Kelly>"

"Ms Kelly. Control of this facility is returned to you. I have a list of jobs for you to perform being e-mailed to you now. Some are not pleasant, but as you climb in the employment of Microtech, you'll find that's how it goes sometimes."

"You're not staying?"

"It's been decided that Microtech gains no benefit from maintaining facilities in Denver, so I've been transferred along with the other Executive staff."

"Oh...?"

"As you've done such a good job to date, I suggested that you oversee the closure. The company will take care of you."

"I..... see."

"Soonest Begun..."

"Soonest Finished." Jean completes the slogan, playing the part of the good Exec.

Blythe dashes into the room.

"Are you trying to start a riot?" he demands.

"Is that enough for you? Can Security act on that?" Jean retorts, "Mario whoever and Ms Lowe set the whole situation up so that a faction in Microtech can score points on Utopia."

"Um, well, the Board does things like that..... for the good of the Company."

"They drive AIs insane so that they kill people, burn buildings and generally run wild? Where's the good of the company in having an 18 year old company dependant shot in the back? Or in having the Night City Offices burned to the ground?"

"Well, those incidents weren't approved by the Board and happened without the Board's knowledge or approval." he squirms, "Ms Montgomery will use the information to the advantage of the Board."

"Then Screw the Board!" Jean snaps. "The Board's not the Company and it's activities aren't in the Companies interest. Clarice! Scramble a team to the airport. There's a Microtech Company Jet there. A woman named Dana Lowe is going to board it. She's to be arrested in connection with the murder of Peta StJohn. Tell whoever's leading the team that they needn't be too gentle."

Jean turns her attention to her constant companion.

"Galahad. Get in me a court order against Microtech for unpaid bills."

"What Bills Jean?"

"Sanitation? Wages? Find something. I want that jet seized."

Blyth looks horrified. "You can't do that!"

"Watch me! If Company Security can't do the right thing, then I will."

She turns to her terminal to find the Jobs list Dana Lowe has sent her. Item one is 'Lay off all grades below Exec One.'

"Declan! Find out if the Researchers want to be laid off!" she bellows, ignoring the fact he's barely five feet away. "If they don't, then there'll be contracts with ES to sign later today and they can pocket their pay off from Microtech. If they're up for it I want them en route to the Moonlight within the next hour."

"Yes Jean."

"Clarice?"

"Yes Jean?"

"Team for the Airport?"

"They're on their way."

"How's petty cash?"

"Not bad."

"Offer Microtech Denver 50 Euro for everything."

"What? I don't understand Jean?"

"Fine, we accept send a cheque over to accounts and we'll transfer ownership immediately."

"Oh! Right! I'll have one couriered across immediately."

Jean ticks another box on the 'to-do' list.

"Galahad. Get me the department at head office that deals with movements of plant. Send a mail to Finance informing them that due to the remote location of Denver I've had to set the Redundancy payments at the top of the discretionary scale for buying out unfulfilled contracts. That should put a crimp in Mario's 'savings' I think."

Tom parks the modified Van at South Night City and climbs out to join Alicia at the station entrance. She's still a bit wobbly on her new feet, but the Beastmaster's assured them that the bones have knitted cleanly and the retrovirus has done its work without complications. Certainly her mane and tail are growing in well and though she declined the hoof hand, the horn and facial alterations make her look every inch his mate.

"What time are they due here?" Alicia asks.

"Should be on the next train."

"You think they'll be up to it?"

"Sally said they'd all be good at sales. With a little time a couple of them might go back for special training."

The train from the airport whines into the station and Tom and Alicia eye the disembarking passengers. A couple of nervous looking young men and women come through the entrance, obviously looking for someone. They goggle at the pair of Unicorn exotics, negative images of each other, like they've never seen a Unicorn conversion, then one of the men steps forward.

"Excuse me. We're supposed to be meeting our Transport here. Are you from Executive Solutions?"

Alicia takes the lead as they'd planned, stepping forwards and offering her human hand.

"Alicia Stevens. This is my husband Tom. We'll be showing you the ropes and mentoring you during your familiarisation period in the Corporate Suburbs of Rancho Coronado and Heywood. Welcome to Executive Solutions, NorCal."

George Geffin walks through the door at Bound to Please, soaking in the scent of new leather. The proprietor appears from the back, his leather working tools in his belt.

"Mr Geffin! Come to load me down with more work?"

"In a way. I floated the idea of the partnering scheme with Ms Brady and I had an interesting e-mail this afternoon. You remember you were talking about training Leather workers, then having them move on for jobs that had safe housing and better terms and conditions?"

"Oh yes?"

"Would you be interested in training up a small number of apprentices? It seems Executive Solutions has found just the facilities you might need. It's in Denver, but it has everything you might want in workshop facilities, design facilities and that sort of thing."

"Are you talking about having me train my competition?"

"No. We want what you make - we can sell it faster than you can make it and your point about craftsman made goods is well taken. We'll offering to relocate you and rent you cheap workshop facilities and you can trade from Denver or we'll buy you out and you can come onto the payroll as your own boss. In any case we have a supply of people who want to learn what you can teach them. Here's the details, call me when you've had a chance to think about it." He hands over an envelope filled with the paperwork Galahad had transmitted and leaves the proprietor of Bound to Please pondering over this new development.

<No to catch the Seattle shuttle.> George thinks, <Let's see what Leather and Lace think of the offer!>

Dana Lowe picks up her briefcase and stalks out of the dusty Director's Office, glad to have seen the back of Denver.

<Mario's going to be pissed that the Engine Data was corrupt, but at least we can realise a saving by closing this backwater. And we get rid of one of Montgomery's stooges as a bonus!>

The driver is waiting and the car whisks her away to the airport and her waiting jet to Dallas. The guard at the Airports Corporate Gate waves them through, onto the pan where a van is apparently loading supplies for the flight east.

The Limo pulls up at the foot of the steps and the driver hurries around to open her door so she can board. She steps into the cool Denver evening and is turning to walk to the steps when lights come on all around the aircraft, pinning her in the beams like a hapless butterfly.

A woman emerges from beneath the aircraft dressed in Patrol Armour.

"Dana Lowe? You're under arrest for complicity in the murder of Peta StJohn."

"Who? You can't arrest me! I've got Corporate Immunity!"

Cleo continues to close on her.

"Executive Solutions Security. Put the bag down, put your hands on your head and kneel down."

"Who the hell do you think you are? I'm a Microtech Executive! I'm on the Board!"

Cleo drives a fist into her gut and Dana folds up in a heap. As she gasps for air Dana is flipped onto her face and cuffed, all the time she's being restrained she can hear the woman speaking in a monotone.

"You have the right to council. If you cannot afford council the court will appoint you representation. You may choose to stand mute, the court may draw its own inferences from this. You will be tried under the Laws of the Free State of Nevada and you may address any complaints to the court at the time of your trial. You are now under arrest. Do you understand?"

"This is an outrage!" Dana gasps, finding some air at last. She looks to her driver. "You're supposed to be my security - aren't you going to do something?"

"Who? Me? I don't work for you. I'm redundant!"

Cleo drags the protesting Lowe to the van, where they're joined by another couple of figures carrying weapons. Lowe's unceremoniously picked up and dropped into the back of the van and driven to the Airside Security Post, where she's photographed, finger printed and put into the holding area with the crew from her aircraft.

"What are you doing here?" she asks the pilot.

"They've arrested the aircraft." he says lugubriously, "something to do with non-payment of bills."

"When they release you go to the office in town and tell them I've been arrested."

"Time to go, Lowe!" one of her captors orders and she's frog marched away from the astonished crew for her drive to Nevada.

In Aurora the phones are ringing. Every Exec on the transfer list gets an e-mailed transfer notice and travel tickets couriered out to their homes. In Dallas the plant department swings into action to organise the disassembly of the factory and the relocation of any useful equipment. Finance gets the necessary paperwork to make severance payments to the Denver workforce and HR the notices confirming the relocation of the transferred Exec's.

Whilst Galahad crosses the 'T's and dots the 'i's Jean is conferring with the Colorado State Government about Microtech's withdrawal and Clarice is negotiating Executive Solutions arrival.

When Mario Caprotti reaches his office in the morning the closure of Microtech Denver is a done deal and he smiles to himself as he considers the projected cost benefits.

He settles down at his desk, waiting for Dana to arrive with their paydata.

In a nearby office Celia Montgomery puzzles over an e-mail from her man on the West Coast, regarding the Denver situation. The message is very brief, but includes a recording of a phone conversation between Caprotti and his protegee Lowe, which explains much and exposes his plans in a way that invited constructive sabotage.

"They didn't get it. Lowe missing, Caprotti unaware." is all it says.

<That loose cannon Kelly, I bet!> Montgomery thinks.

Staff get up in Aurora as usual and board their transport to work. The staff heading to the Production Plant find the Plant removal team already hard at work and are turned around and redirected to the Offices.

The main building is a scene of chaos. Reporting staff are directed to a series of tables where they're given their pay-offs, hand over their company ID and are given thirty days notice to quit their homes. As they stagger shell shocked from the building Clarice, Lucy, Victor and Dayanne are busy handing them job applications.

"Aren't you the people who took a chunk of the graduating class from the High School for assessment?" a young Clerical asks.

"That's us."

"How are they doing?"

"Someone you know?"

"Brother."

"He's not called home? I'll see what we can do."

In Aurora the Postman delivers notices to quit to every house occupied by a Microtech Employee. The news is into every part of the 'burb by the time the schoolbell rings, closely followed by the fear of what it's going to mean.

At 1000 Clarice visits the Aurora Housing Corporation. When they hear she's negotiating to purchase the estate their reaction is so eager Clarice almost feels ashamed to squeeze them on the price.

As she leaves their offices holding the folder of deeds a Corporate Jet is touching down in Dallas.

"How do you want to play this Jean?" Galahad asks.

"By the time we reach the offices they should be on their lunch period. Less people around. Log on at a public terminal - send the progress report for him to carry into the meeting. Then the fun begins."

Jean makes her way out of the Airport to find a company Limo waiting for her, pre booked from Denver. She settles into the car and enjoys her first visit to Dallas.

The car stops outside the front entrance of Company Headquarters and Jean climbs out, straightening her almost unused Microtech Corporate suit before she takes her case and passes in through the front doors, mentally comparing the defences with Denver.

The lobby guards accept her ID and her PA passes the routine scan before she passes in through the turnstile to enter the lift., intending to find an empty office to work her mischief. The interior of the lift turns out to be bare, just like the lift they used on Kerry in Denver. Jean pulls a face and slots her Company ID. The doors close and the lift rises.

The doors slide open on a plushly carpeted hallway. Jean steps out to find a soberly dressed receptionist waiting to one side of the lift doors.

"Good Morning Ms Kelly. Are you here for the Board meeting?"

"Indirectly." Jean improvises. "Could you allocate me an office to prepare my presentation in."

"Can I have your ID please?"

Jean nervously watches her ID disappear into the receptionists desk, anticipating alarms or awkward questions, but the machine consults its database, finding her acceptable, and allocates her an appropriate workspace.

The Receptionist hands her card back

"7C down the corridor Ms Kelly. Your card will open the executive rest room, the restaurant is still open if you've not had chance to eat on the way in from Denver, or you can have something delivered if you want."

"Thank you."

Jean takes her card and walks down the corridor, sampling the luxury enjoyed by Execs.

Stopping outside the door labelled 7C she slots her card in the door and it unlocks. A plate on the door lights up with her name and the interior lights come on. Jean walks inside, opening the door widely to hide the name plate and considers the loan office she's been allocated.

The opulence is breathtaking and Jean sinks into the self adjusting chair and absent mindedly connects her PA to the office terminal. Galahad logs her into the system whilst she looks at the materials left on the desk and tries to decide if she needs a manicurist, beautician, masseur or room service.

"Jean. You should see this." Galahad says. "These terminals have higher access privileges than the terminals at Denver. I can read the extra instructions Lowe included on the 'to-do' list she sent you.

Jean looks at the screen and the instructions to be performed once she's completed the list are clear. The mail is to post itself to the HR department and terminate her employment.

"Hardly unexpected is it Galahad?"

"I did rate it as probable, but the arrogance of including it in the instructions they gave you is somewhat surprising."

"They just didn't anticipate me using a high access terminal. Nom, can you monitor proceedings in the Boardroom?"

"Yes Jean. The staff are still preparing the room."

Jean looks at her terminal and studies it's accesses.

"Anything here on Corporate Strategy?"

"With regard to what Jean?"

"Why they kept Denver open when everything went pear shaped?"

"Searching. There are a number of historical references to the Denver facility."

"Ok. I'll study them, you have a poke around, see if you can find anything else of interest."

"I think I'll look up my family."

Jean puzzles a moment over his meaning, but sets it aside as the monitor shows the Boardroom beginning to fill, and the documents Galahad's searches have uncovered are displayed.

Celia Montgomery is getting concerned. She's unable to reach Blythe by e-mail or phone and the telephone number for Microtech Denver is unobtainable.

Attempts to ring the home numbers of Executives living in the company housing in Aurora either reach disconnected numbers or just ring out without being picked up. Her sole success reached the mobile phone of the Finance manager, who'd told her he was about to boards his blimp to Chicago Port and his new posting.

<Kelly can't have wrapped Denver up that fast.> she thinks, <can she?>

Gathering her notes she begins to make her way to the Meeting.

Joseph Nelson strolls through the office on the way back from his regular counselling appointment. His new posting to the prestigious environs of the Dallas office mark him as a man..... no, a person of whom great things are still expected.

The change hasn't been as bad as he'd feared. His new body looked and felt human and no-one treated him like a 'thing'. He'd even had a few offers of 'personal services' from his staff. But although he was equipped appropriately, there was no longer an itch to scratch.

Idly he wonders how Alicia is faring. A twinge of guilt pricks him when he recalls the arrangements he'd made, but that's all history now and unchangeable. Joseph shakes himself from hie reverie and logs onto the Personnel system. Immediately a mass of Executive movements lights his screen and he checks to see what's caused such a sudden mass of postings.

<Denver's closed? What's going on?>

A bit of digging turns up Jean's name, then the orders from Dana Lowe.

Hurriedly he instigates a search for Dana Lowe or Jean Kelly. Lowe is listed as 'in transit - Denver to Dallas', but Jean is listed as 'Visitors Office suite 7C - Headquarters building Dallas.'Grabbing his jacket Joseph sets off at a run.

Jean studies the historical background to Microtech's presence in Denver, but fails to discover any major reason why they remain. Though Denver has good transportation links, the Production Facility is better sited closer to it's likely customer base on the West Coast. The research establishment could be placed anywhere.

At that moment sa figure dashes into the room.

"Jean?"

"Yes?"

The figure looks vaguely familiar. Clean shaven, dark skinned and muscular.

"What have you done with the Denver Site?"

"Mario Caprotti sent out Dana Lowe to order the place closed."

"But that's the end of our research capability in the US!"

"And you are........?"

"Oh. Sorry. You won't recognise this body. I'm Joseph Nelson."

"Joseph! You made it then? Not gone Cyberpsycho? By the way, I didn't appreciate being co-opted into lying to Alicia, but it seems to have worked out ok for her."

"Oh? Well. Back to the point. Why close Denver?"

"Not my idea. If the Board send out a properly appointed Axeman who am I to argue?"

"Right! I'm going to see about this!"

"Wait. We need to time this right."

She swivels her monitor around and Joseph can see she's watching the meeting.

"What are you doing Jean? Are you involved in Board politics?"

"You might say so."

She takes a mobile from her case and carefully inputs a text, ready to send at the push of a button.

"Galahad? Are we ready to leave?"

"Yes Jean. I've done everything that needs doing."

End Part 11