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For your reading pleasure... a cyberpunk serial

� � � � � � � � � � � � � �1

� �There was a saying, from way back, that blood and rain were the two things one would never see enough of in SoCal City.
� �Rain fell on the City like a slow-acting solvent, making everything sweat-slick with tepid water that always hovered just around body temperature. �It flowed ceaselessly down roofs, through rain gutters, into storm drains in one monotonous flood that never did seem to end.
� �It's like taking a bath, Poole thought as he bled his life away. �His precious blood mixed precariously with the oily water puddle in which he found himself, and for an instant, he realized he was soaked to the bone and hemorrhaging from the neat triangular cluster of bullets that had torn though his chest, piercing his left lung. �Not that it mattered anymore. �The initial flush of hot arterial blood that had billowed when the bullets exited his chest cavity had subsided to a runny, red slurry.
� �"You look like shit," a voice said, and Poole felt slender fingers heft him by the shoulders, turning him over onto his back. �Looking up, he caught a glimpse of something shiny– glossy pleather, steel buckles, skintight from neck to boot-heel. �A pair of reflective slimshades framed the woman's face.
� �"Who the hell are you?" he exclaimed, cringing as she gently probed around the holes in his chest. �The woman laid a finger to his lips.
� �"Shhhh. �That's for me to know, and you to find out."
� �The staccato beat of boots on broken glass and street grit echoed nearby, and the woman's gaze shifted abruptly to the head of the garbage-strewn alleyway. �Poole winced as the woman haphazardly pulled him behind a stand of plastic packing crates.
� �"Friends of yours?" she asked, the examination all but forgotten.
� �Poole shook his head.
� �"How many are there?"
� �"Three. �They're packing."
� �The woman rose, smiling wickedly as she withdrew a matte black, carbon-etched dagger. �Its gleaming edge was razor-sharp.
� �"I'll bet they are," she replied, then slipped, catlike and deathly quiet, into the shadows.
� �Footsteps halted just meters away, and for a few heartbeats Poole could only hear the harsh patter of rain on corrugated metal high above. �A nimbus of light splashed brightly against the dead end's grimy brick wall, flickering into corners, searching. �He held his breath, pain burning inside his chest as the seconds passed, and lay as still as possible. �Sweat and rain trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes. �The woman had all but melted into the darkness.
� �"We know you're in there, Poole," a voice called out. �"Come on out so we can talk."
� �Silence, then blind panic as that same brilliant light illuminated the packing crates that hid him, then spotlighted a trail of blood--his blood--that greased the concrete, a macabre gingerbread trail for his pursuers to follow. �Feet shuffled into the alley, sloshing rainwater and sending ripples through the puddle where Poole had awakened. �The loud mechanical click of metal sliding against metal, a round being chambered, echoed off the walls.
� �"Poole," the Voice yelled. �"There's nowhere to run. �Don't make us drag you out."
� �Footsteps drew closer, and then the joe was there, filling his vision. �He was huge, bovine, his nondescript gray suit seeming ready to burst with the penned up muscle and energy that moved in that slow, steady frame. �In his hands was a big, square-muzzle .45 semiautomatic pistol, matte black with mahogany grips. �The barrel drew level with Poole's head, the bright red dot of the targetfinder drawing a steady bead just above his left cheek.
� �"Don't move, motherfucker," the joe growled. �The big man squatted down, careful to keep the gun level with Poole's face, then patted him down.
� �"Subject found, sir. �No weapons," the joe called over his shoulder, his words clipped, low, with ex-mil nuances. �He stood, and for an instant the target dot dropped away from Poole. �"Should I proceed with the plan?"
� �The blur was fluid, a liquid blackness trailing the bright, biting glint of razor-sharp steel, and for a moment, the joe was still standing. �Then the thin inverted cross that serrated his torso from groin to sternum, hip to hip, began to bleed. �The man grunted, his eyes glazing, then clutched his eviscerated abdomen and crumpled into the fetal position as his intestines tried to steam through the deep, bloody slits in his stomach.
� �Gunfire suddenly exploded into the alley, muzzle flashes making everything bright as each shot boomed from whatever his pursuers were firing. �Shots ricocheted off of walls as the woman continued her efficient, deadly dance, then Poole heard the slice of surgical steel as it stabbed through fresh meat. �Another body fell, then all was still.
� �A heavy flashlight sailed into the alley, clattering within Poole's reach. �It continued to roll for a moment, then stopped, its beam throwing light ripples on the walls as it reflected against water puddles. Poole cautiously glanced around the corner of his hiding place.
� �Visibly pale, though surprisingly unhurt, the last man standing was short, thin, his sandy blonde hair greased back by either rain or gel. �His eyes were cold, ice-blue pools, radiating deadly calm. �He wore a simple, two-pieced white business suit. �To his side lay a crumpled, mewling form, and close, very close, hovered a glossy black shadow. �In its hand was something midnight black, glinting red.
� �The man held out his hands, remaining still, as if to prove his noncommitment to further violence.
� �"I'm with Metro." �The Voice was cool, unwavering, no hint of fear in his voice. �"That man back there–his name is Benjamin Poole--he's wanted for murder. �I'm here to apprehend him."
� �The woman grabbed him by the scruff of his collar. Twisting his tie in her clenched fist, she pulled him close, the tip of her dagger millimeters from his jugular.
� �"Metro doesn't do biz this side of town," she hissed. �"Tell me another lie."
� �"No lies. �I'm on special assignment," he replied, never breaking eye contact as he swiftly reached into his coat pocket.
� �The woman slashed, her knife a blur as it amputated a wide swath of suit fabric. �The Voice jerked back as three fingers and a .38 revolver clattered to the ground. �Blood flowed from bright red stumps, and for an instant, he stood there in shocked silence. �The woman tapped his pale chin with the tip of her dagger, trailing blood.
� �"Run," she said, then pushed the man hard enough to knock him off balance. �Backpedaling, the Voice quickly lurched to his feet and sprinted, full out, down the alley, then disappeared down around a corner at some far off intersection.
� �The woman stared after him for a few mintutes, then her shoulders sagged, tension draining as she waited for the inevitable adrenaline crash. �She let out a shaky sigh, then simply stood there, head bowed, letting the rain slowly wash over her. �For a long while, Poole could only hear the endless storm as it slowly, inexorably ground away at SoCal.
� �"Shit," she murmured, surveying her handiwork. �Wiping the blood from her blade, she securely fastened it in its sheath. �"Here's another mess needs cleaning up."
� �After a moment, she dragged a small carry-on bag from the shadows. �Unzipping it, she pulled out a pair of med-level laytex gloves, snapped them smoothly over her hands, then stooped and picked something up from the ground--the Voice's fingers. �Pulling a clear, plastic baggy from the kit, she dropped them inside, and zipped the baggy shut.
� �Skirting the first joe's corpse, she edged close, careful to avoid the blood, then squatted down. �Instinctively, she searched the dead man's body, found his wallet, then rifled through its contents.
� �"What are you doing?" Poole croaked, his throat suddenly parched.
� �"Collecting evidence," she replied.
� �"Why?"
� �"You'll see."
� �The woman frowned, glancing at him with professional concern. �"You doing okay? �You don't look so good."
� �Tiny pinpricks, stark as night, swam in front of Poole's eyes, and for a moment he thought stars were shining through the cloud cover.
� �"I think I'm gonna pass out."
� �"Shit." �The woman was instantly close, checking his pulse, the dilation of his pupils. �He could smell the sweat on her naked skin. �"You don't got tech, do you?"
� �Poole tiredly shook his head. �"No."
� �"Try to swallow this," she said. �The woman put a pill in his mouth, and something cold caressed his lips--a canteen. �Poole took several sips of cool water, then sputtered, coughing. �Everything took on a deeper shade of gray with each painful lung-full of air.
� �For an instant, everything was a dizzy nightmare as the woman hefted him over her shoulder. �Through the coming darkness, Poole noticed a ragged tear in the woman's left triceps. �A thin trickle of fresh blood oozed from the wound, dripping down her elbow.
� �"You're shot," he coughed, spitting up a bloody wad of mucous.
� �The woman grinned, something fierce in her eyes as she started to carry him at a trot down the alley. �"So are you. �What say we get out of here, before more of those goons arrive?"
� �"I don't think I'll make it that far," he gasped, then everything suddenly, inevitably faded to black.

(Edited by Grim at 6:02 pm on May 20, 2002)

(Edited by Grim at 7:38 pm on May 20, 2002)

� � � � � � � � � � � � � �2

� �Heaven was an all-white room, in the center of which there was a bed, covered in pristine white sheets that smelled like they were just recently starched. �High above, a single white ceiling-fan circulated cool, clean air that smelled faintly citric. �On one side of the bed, there stood a white nightstand, on which sat a single highball glass of water and two pills. �On the other, a �bank of medical equipment sat, perched on a plain metal handcart. �Early morning light filtered through polarized windows, casting the room in a soft gray glow.
Poole rolled over, felt something sticking to his chest–a soft cotton bandage--then examined one of the pills. �Aspirin. �Groaning, he twisted around to sit at the edge of the bed. �His bare feet touched cold, white tile, and for a fleeting instant, the faintest whisper echoed through his mind.
� �Hang in there, Benny-boy, it whispered. �Don't you die on me.
� �Poole shuddered, then dry-popped the aspirin and swallowed half the glass of water. �A catheter dripped its contents into a vein in his forearm from an IV bag hanging from a hook just above the bed. �The catheter was held in place by a piece of clear plastic tape. �He carefully pried the catheter from his vein and let it dangle from its tubing, then stood, taking stock of the room's contents.
� �He found a pair of black, drawstring pants folded neatly at the foot of the bed, then gazed momentarily at his naked form. �He slipped them on, then ventured to check the two doors leading into the room.
� �One was locked from the outside. �The other lead to a small, private bathroom with a standing shower, a toilet, and a wash basin with a mirror bolted above it.
� �Tired blue eyes, wreathed in purple, bruised circles gazed back from the face in the mirror. �Several days worth of spiky, black stubble grazed his cheeks, chin, the ridge of his jaw. �Thick, black hair was unkempt but clean, falling down into his eyes. �Poole glanced down at his pale, white chest and the bandage taped squarely in its center. �Slowly, he peeled it back, revealing a long, deep incision running down his sternum. �The cut was puckered around rows of black nylon stitching. �Turning, he gazed at the exit wounds in his lower back and shoulder–he counted two--each cleanly stitched, then instinctively flexed his fingers. �No nerve damage.
� �"You were lucky, Benny-boy."
� �Poole hadn't heard the door open. �She was leaning against the wall, just inside the door. �The woman fished something out of a small silver case, lit it with the click of a lighter, then took a long drag. �The room quickly filled with the pungent aroma of cloves.
� �"Docs had to cut you up, hunt for that last bullet. �Did a bit of neuro on that arm of yours, too. �And, of course--there's your lung." �The cherry flared as she took another puff on her cigarette.
� �"How long was I out?" he asked.
� �"Three days," she replied. �"You almost didn't make it."
� �Poole stole a glance at her through the mirror. �Her mocha-colored skin was smooth, creamy, though wrinkles formed near the corners of her chocolate-brown eyes. �There was something Asiatic about her features--the curve of her face, the texture of her hair, instilled with something else. �She was just over five and a half feet tall, slender, and exceptionally fit. �She wore a simple black jumper with zippered mesh pockets.
� �"You look tired."
� �She shrugged.
� �"You went into cardiac arrest the moment you hit the table," she continued. �"I was there when they jumpstarted your heart with the defibrillator. �Been up ever since."
� �The woman pulled something from her breast pocket, then tossed it to Poole. �He instinctively caught it. �It was a mushroom- shaped lump of deformed lead.
� �"What's this?"
� �"A souvenir," she replied, then dropped her cigarette, grinding it under her boot- heel. �"Found it lodged about two inches from your fifth vertebrae."
� �Poole gazed at the dime-sized bullet fragment, then slipped it into his pants pocket.
� �"I shouldn't be walking."
� �"No, you shouldn't," she replied, "but the docs had you on a special treatment. �Got some high-grade med nano to wire up your insides nice and quick. �Real fancy shit. �Cost a small fortune each time they dosed you, but you'll be good as new in a couple more days."
� �Poole turned the faucet on, and ice cold water trickled into his cupped hands. �He splashed his face, letting the water drip down his chin. �Glancing back at the woman, he asked, "Who are you anyway?"
� �The woman grinned, showing row on row of perfect, white teeth. �"They call me Jane."
� �"And this place, it's a hospital?"
� �Jane paused. �"Not so much a hospital as a private clinic of sorts."
� �Poole thought about something.
� �"Back in the alley, that night--"
� �Jane chuckled. �"It's amazing what one can do on pure adrenaline."
� �"Adrenaline," Poole grunted. �"You're pretty quick for an augment."
� �"Don't complain," she replied, lighting another cigarette from her little pocket case. �"Unlike you, I earned every piece of tech I've got."
� �"Besides," she continued, taking a puff off her cigarette. �"I paid your med bills."
� �"You gonna tell me why you've gone to all this trouble?" he asked.
� �She smirked. �"Later, when we've got the time."
� �Poole pondered, then replied, "I need some breakfast."
� �Jane's smile broadened momentarily. �She pulled a green, plastic shopping bag from beside the bed and slid it across the floor.
It skidded to a stop at Poole's feet.
� �"Docs said you'd say that," she replied, then opened the door. �"Get dressed. �I'll be waiting in the next room."
� �The door softly clicked shut behind her, and Poole was left to his own thoughts and the scent of cloves.

(Edited by Grim at 7:32 pm on May 20, 2002)

� �Mom's Stir-Fry was an innocuous little shack dead-center in Old Chinatown. �Despite the name, Mom was, in fact, a six-foot, balding Korean man who spent his days deep-frying egg rolls over a propane burner. �Poole pondered this over a steaming cup of dim sum with fried noodles, then absentmindedly scratched at the skin patches on his chest.
� �"You'll start to bleed if continue to pick at those."
� �Poole glowered. �The woman sat directly across from him, no worse for wear, nursing a Styrofoam cup of green tea. �Sipping slowly, the woman smirked behind the rim of her cup, then placed a plastic biz card on the table, millimeter thin, jet black with platinum- etched letterhead.
� �"You know who that is?" she asked.
� �Poole glanced at the card, then set his plastic spoon aside. �The words, SAVIORS, INC., were printed in big, block letters on the card's shiny black surface. �Beneath that were a name and a title–J. Cypress, Founder. �He gazed out at the crowded street beyond the noodle shop's transparent walls of polyethylene sheeting. �Hot morning rain fell, a steady drizzle fogging the plastic. �The morning sun was high enough to illuminate the early crowd of pedestrians clogging SoCal City's arteries.
� �Poole caught himself staring at the woman, recognition slowly dawning. �"You're Jane Cypress?"
� �The woman grinned. �"Yeah. �That's me. �The one and only Plain Jane."
� �Poole frowned. �"I thought you Saviors had a Code."
� �"So?"
� �"You killed a man--possibly two-- the other night."
� �Jane's eyebrows furrowed. �She lifted her biz card from the table, gazed thoughtfully at it, then tapped it a couple of times against the greasy tabletop.
� �"Hell, I wrote the Code," she muttered, "but things are different these days. �Cops and Saviors don't get along so much. �Never did, really. �The lawyers call it noninterference, but it's just a breakdown in jurisdiction. �Means we Saviors can get away with a lot more, but can't expect the Metros to watch our backs. �Goes the other way around, too. �Saviors got a job to do, Benny-boy, keeping what's left of the good citizens out of harm's way, and it's a kill or be killed business with no mercy for the underdog."
� �"Those men back there," she continued, "they were killers–not cops. �Hired thugs, and they wanted your blood. �Metro may be corrupt, but they aren't stupid enough to stray into Savior turf. �Simple as that." �Jane leaned forward, tapping Poole on the chest. �"You of all people should know that."
� �"Why do you say that?" he asked, suddenly defensive.
� �The woman's gaze seemed to pierce straight through him.
� �"You got that look," she replied. �"Ex- cop, maybe corpcop. �All those edges gone soft, but still sharp enough to cut."
� �Poole jabbed at a floating piece of noodle with his spoon, mulling things over. �Through the corner of his eye, he caught Jane's intent gaze.
� �"I'm not a cop, not anymore," Poole murmered. �"It's been a long time–and like you said, things are different these days."
� �"What happened?" she asked.
� �"I screwed up is what," he growled, "and now, everything is just--"
� �Poole tried hard to pierce the uncompromising void that stretched so far back in time, occluding his memories with whatever the corporate medtechs had done to his mind. �Everything, for as long as he could remember, was a vague, white--
� �"Blank," he muttered. �"A big, empty expanse of time where you know it's passed, can feel it, but you don't remember how it all happened." �He stared at the tabletop, the anger draining out of him.
� �Jane set her cup aside, then steepled her fingers, gazing over the tips of her nails at him. �For a long moment, she said nothing. �"You were scrubbed?"
� �Poole nodded, feeling tired.
� �"How far back they take it?" she asked, suddenly inquisitive.
� �"Seven years."
� �"That's a long damned time," she exclaimed. �"And you've been this way, what? Two, three years?"
� �"Five." he replied.
� �Jane whistled, then drew a cigarette from her pocket case and lit it. �Exhaling, she asked, "What you do? Kill the President?"
� �Poole was quiet for a moment, then rubbed his face with his hands.
� �"You know what facilitated confidentiality is?" he asked.
� �"I've heard about it."
� �"It was job related," he replied, "and I was contractually obligated to undergo the procedure. �Nothing I could do to stop it."
� �"So you got fired, and they didn't trust you enough to keep your mouth shut, so they gave you a little mindfuck before they sent you packing. �And you let them do it?" she muttered. �"You could have run."
� �Jane gave him a wilting gaze that would have melted lead. �Poole looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. �He stifled the rising desire to walk out of the tiny faux stir-fry shack, and leave the over inquisitive bodyguard to her cup of tea.
� �"I didn't have the chance."
� �"There's always a chance," she replied, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. �"You just gave up. �I'll bet you don't even know why you were scrubbed in the first place."
� �Poole slid his soup bowl away from him, no longer hungry. �"I don't. �Public records don't go that far on this type of thing."
� �"Been eating at you a long time, hasn't it?"
� �"Yeah, every day almost."
� �Jane leaned back, the chair creaking loudly beneath her as she shifted her weight. �"What if I told you there's a possibility you could get your memories back. �Not only your memories, but all those skills you lost, the old reflexes you picked up back when you were a corpcop?"
� �Poole's eyes widened. "What?"
� �"You heard me."
� �"Everybody knows mindscrub is indefinite."
� �Several patrons glared from across the tiny eatery, their meals disturbed. �"Why are we even talking about this here?"
� �"Because it's a safe place," Jane replied, glancing toward the big Korean man behind the counter. �"Mom, there– you see him? �He's a Savior, or something like one. �He keeps this place real clean--bugs, you know? �And the patrons keep to themselves."
� �Jane's gaze slid back to Poole's face. �"Now, back to the subject. �If mindscrub is so permanent, then why have you been searching for a cure these past five years?"
� �The woman's revelation hit him like a sledgehammer. �Poole tried to remain composed.
� �"I don't know what you're talking about," he growled.
� �"Of course you do," she replied, standing. �"It's the one thing you've been searching for since you lost your job. �It's what nearly cost you your life three days ago, in a dark alley out in the Boroughs."
� �Poole slid out of his chair, gaping. �"How could you know that?"
� �Jane crossed the tiny restaurant, then slid a thin, silver credistick across the counter into Mom's waiting hands. �She patted the man on the shoulder, then said, "Be sure that gets to the right people."
� �Mom nodded, then slipped the credistick into his grubby apron.
� �Jane turned, giving Poole a quizzical look, then headed for the plastic tarp that served as the entryway. �"Come on. �There's someone I'd like you to meet."