Broken

Part 1

Saturday October 1, 2011

It's been about two weeks since Brittney Delacroix basically got fried from the inside out---and the fact that she's a gynoid like me doesn't really lessen the impact of having to write that sentence. Everyone at HQ has been staying low---all field ops have been run at a MUCH slower pace than usual, and I've actually been spending more time in class than out on assignments.

Don't get me wrong---it's not like I hate going to class, or anything....

….I just wish I could be out there, helping to keep Epsilon safe.

It's been...hard to accept. The idea that Epsilon is still Tony Sanderson, I mean....it's hard to picture something as horrible as being trapped in a dying body you can't fully control. Also, I've been seeing a lot less of Rae these past few days....ever since she freaked out about Brittney's damage back at HQ, she just sort of ran off somewhere. Still, there are a few good things to report---Kirsten's doing well, all things considered, and Mom hasn't followed through on her threat of making Ted sleep on the couch for not telling her about how badly I was damaged....

….still, it's kind of heart-wrenching to know that Epsilon is being hunted, and he doesn't even understand it.

As for the former ALPA Chairman.....

---

Vicki stared at the screen of her MacBook, unsure of whether or not she wanted to keep going with the diary entry for the day. She'd started at 3:30 in the morning, for some reason---more than likely, the fact that her nightly charging cycle (sleep, for normal human beings) was fretful, constantly interrupted, and not really giving her a restful feeling.

Most of that was due to the ALPA asking her to stay in one of the many apartment blocks funded by several of their higher-ranking companies in and around Silicon Valley---reports of “strange people” at SJSU had been circulating for a while. Given recent developments, HQ thought it best for Vicki to spend off-campus time at the apartment with other Agents. She'd considered rejecting the offer, until hearing that Rae Clarke had a room in the same building she was staying in. If I can talk to her before the weekend is up....

Of course, the biggest reason for Vicki's sleeplessness was Oberon---or, rather, the fact that he was currently in Europe, awaiting trial for his role in the Epsilon incident. The last time she'd talked to him, she'd left with more questions than answers...

With a quiet sigh, she guided her thoughts back to the present.

The DVS---formerly believed to be merely an advisory board for the Coalition for Worldwide Cybernetic Unity (or just the Coalition, for short)---had proven themselves to be a separate entity altogether. With Epsilon back in the spotlight, the DVS now had a trump card: the “Dragon”, Octavia---who, by means of a convoluted, inter-agency chess match, was poised to bring the hammer down on the Coalition and the ALPA, at the orders of her masters. Worse, the DVS apparently had their sights set on taking down Epsilon to cement their grip on power---with Octavia taking charge of that, as well, under the guise of wanting to protect the corporate assets of United Robotronics (the Coalition company she'd “inherited” from the Baron).

“And this,” Vicki realized, “is why I hate politics.” She saved the document file that contained her diary and set down the MacBook with a sigh. “Might as well go see how everyone else is handling their temporary new living quarters....”

She was halfway out of her room when she heard a moan from further down the hallway.

Reflexively, she tensed. Her progress down the corridor slowed, voluntarily, to a wall-hugging tiptoe.

Correlating source of noise. Interpreting---

She blinked away the second notice---realizing, half a second later, that she might very well be walking into a trap.....or something less potentially lethal and more embarrassing.

Three doors down, the moaning got louder, punctuated with heavy breathing.

Already beginning to realize that she wasn't dealing with a potential intruder (hopefully), Vicki edged towards the door, preparing her optical sensors to adjust to low-light conditions. Her fingers brushed against the door knob, closing around it as the moans from inside the room began to transition into a howl (though it sounded less pained and a bit more...pleasurable) she mentally ticked off a three-count before turning the knob, stepping forward as she pushed open the door....

….to find a nude, tanned female figure, barely concealed by bedsheets, atop another female on the sofa-bed inside the room. It didn't take a genius to realize this wasn't a case of the Heimlich maneuver gone awry.

“Rae?!”

The chestnut-haired figure stopped mid-thrust. “VICKI?!”

From beneath the sheets---and Rae---a second female voice gasped: “Vicki?!”

The brunette gynoid's eyes widened. “Kylie?!”

“CLOSE THE DOOR!”

“What the hell---” The half-hidden figure scrambled out from under the sheets. “What's Vicki doing here?!”

“...I was just---”

“CLOSE THE BLOODY DOOR!”

Rae's final shriek ended the......confrontation (Vicki couldn't think of anything else to call it that didn't sound insanely filthy), prompting the Field Agent to back out of the room, close the door, and take a moment to think of what she'd just seen. Rae Clarke---a fellow Field Agent and unabashed bisexual---was enjoying some...very intimate time with Kylie Lyndon---another fellow Field Agent, who also happened to be Vicki's former hall mate from SJSU. It took a fiftieth of a second for the brunette gynoid to put two and two together---a climax reached even faster with the sounds of panting on the other side of the door, a very satisfied cry and someone (probably Rae) rolling out of the bed and hitting the floor.

For a few seconds, nervous giggling, heavy breathing and the sound of a closet door opening were all Vicki could hear from within.....

“Okay, we're decent now. Might as well come in and see the two raging sex queens basking in the afterglow.”

The sarcasm-laced remark from Rae drew an annoyed groan from Vicki, but she opened the door and re-entered the room all the same. With the lights now on, she could see that Rae was wearing a pink silk negligé that showed off more cleavage than it should've, while Kylie was wearing a bathrobe, a hastily thrown-on bra and boxer shorts. Neither one looked particularly embarrassed; Kylie was blushing heavily, but she still met Vicki's glance. Rae, meanwhile, looked to have already overcome her shock at the intrusion.

“SO,” the tanned gynoid drawled, “I'm guessing you got bored with the TV channels on offer?”

“...something like that,” Vicki admitted. “And you two were.....”

“Remembering the good old days when Kylie was still 'just bi-curious', and I was....well, me,” Rae replied. “I still am, by the way.” She grinned. “I'm guessing she never told you about her 'phase' before?”

Vicki arched an eyebrow at Kylie. “She didn't, actually....”

“I was trying to keep a low profile!” Kylie groaned, falling back onto the sofa-bed. “Mom kept sending guys to my dorm room, trying to 'turn' me.....and then I met Rae.” She glanced at the chestnut-haired gynoid, finally allowing herself a smile. “The picture on the dating website didn't do her justice....and she wasn't pissed off that I'd used that one photo Mom said made me look like 'a construction worker at a Labor Day barbecue'....we hit it off on our first date!”

“And the third time we were in the sack,” Rae finished, “she pulled some trick with her tongue---”

Kylie giggled, while Vicki gave her an annoyed glare.

“....anyway....it worked a bit too well, and the big finish was a bit more....explosive than either of us expected. I had to have the whole back of my head replaced, and it took about fifteen or so phone calls before Kylie was calm enough to realize she hadn't damaged me that badly.” Rae sighed, heading for the mini-fridge; “We stayed together for a while after that,” she continued, grabbing a shot-glass and a decanter of amber liquid, “until Kylie got back a blood-test saying she might've had TS---Tzachor's Syndrome.”

“It's a heart condition,” Kylie added---ignoring Rae's decision to take a swig from the decanter. “People who have it aren't supposed to engage in....strenuous physical activity....” She glanced at Rae, who just rolled her eyes. “Turns out the test was a false positive,” the gynoid stated, “and we could've done each other like rabbits for years afterwards, but Kylie's mum was a bit less keen on that idea. Didn't help that the poor bird walked in on us doing the wild mamba on her couch one sunny afternoon, and damn near had a coronary on the spot.” She plopped down on the bed next to Kylie, offering a tanned shoulder for the human Field Agent to rest her head on. “We decided to stay 'just friends' after that, with the occasional romp for good measure.”

“That.....makes sense,” Vicki replied. “So all those guys showing up at your dorm room---”

“Friends. Just friends....and study partners, despite Mom's wishes to the contrary.” Kylie curled up next to Rae, embracing her with a blissful sigh. “Still, being with Rae helped me figure out a lot about my life at the time, like who I really was, who I wanted to be with....”

The chestnut-haired gynoid nodded sagely. “Just call me O-Komonan Du-mi....”

“Well,” Vicki declared, ignoring the bout of giggling from the two lovers, “I guess you want to get back to....what you were doing before I barged in here....”

“And let you walk off without offering our advice on the whole Octavia thing?” Rae countered. “I think not.” She patted down a spot on the bed; “Sexy time can always happen later,” she informed the brunette gynoid. “I think---and Kylie will probably agree with me---that you need someone to talk to....”

The phrase “hit the nail on the head” comes to mind..... “As a matter of fact, I do.” She glanced at a chair right next to the bed, before deciding to just sit on the bed next to Rae---which, not surprisingly, landed her in the path of a half-hearted neck-hold that ended with gynoids and human all laying on the bed together---two giggling, one mildly annoyed. “It's easier to talk shop when I'm comfy,” Rae breathed. “Keddy Bear knows that for a fact.”

A single look at the still-smiling Kylie was all the clue Vicki needed to ascertain “Keddy Bear's” identity.

“So,” the chestnut-haired gynoid continued. “The Octavia thing.....”

Vicki blew out an exasperated breath. “She hasn't made a single move against us since we first found out about her. Drake Bradford's gone off the grid, Brittney Delacroix is still in a ReVerse repair lab, and Oberon....”

An uneasy silence filled the room.

“...I still don't understand what happened with him. It's like....one minute, he was taunting me, trying to get me to fight him, and the next.....” Vicki rolled over, planting her face in the mattress. “I don't get it,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the bed. “It feels like he just....changed, completely, after the fight!” She lifted herself to a sitting positon; “I just.....thinking about it makes me feel like it was all some really, really bad dream,” she murmured. “Like the whole fight was something out of a movie....”

A horrible possibility hit her like a brick to the skull. “.....and he was just playing a part.....”

“Not possible,” Rae countered. “When Oberon gets obsessed, it's genuine. I've seen it before, babe---not you, Keddy, though we'll get back to the good part soon.” She massaged Kylie's shoulders, earning another giggle from the human Field Agent. “But like I was saying, when he gets this worked up, it's no act.”

“That's even worse,” Vicki groaned. “Why is he acting so different now?!”

Kylie let out a satisfied purr as Rae continued her deep massage. “Beats the hell out of me, Vicki....maybe this is something you're not really meant to know.”

“Well, I want to know. And this whole thing is really bugging me....”

“Then maybe you----oh, right there.......” Kylie let out a shuddering moan as Rae's hands worked her shoulder blades. “...maybe you should....let it rest for a while.....think about something ELSE----” The last word was a pleasurable gasp, followed by a relieved sigh as the chestnut-haired gynoid's fists kneaded Kylie's back muscles. “Oh, that feels good.....”

Rae grinned. “Never let it be said that I don't know how to relieve stress.”

“But you two just.....oh, forget it.” Vicki fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling again. “Maybe this really is something I'm not meant to know...”

“Some things are better off unknown,” Rae agreed. “Of course, in a relationship like what Keddy and I have, the more you know, the better.” She leaned in to kiss Kylie on the neck, earning a squeal of delighted giggling from her lover. “And if you're burnt out on the whole Oberon thing, we could always change the subject to something a bit less...well, current.”

Interesting way of putting it... “Fair enough. And if you two are...well, 'just friends'---”

Another giggle from Kylie cut her off. “I try to keep in touch with everyone I've been 'just friends' with,” Rae replied. “Some more....intimately....than others....” She rested her head against Kylie's.

“So, after Kylie got her back carved up----”

“Doctor's office first,” Rae clarified, “followed by my place for a soothing lotion rub and an ice treatment.”

“.....and after Dawley?”

“Sleepover with a few of the girls, and a two-foot diameter pizza from Domino's.” The tanned gynoid grinned at the memory. “And other times after those, obviously....not every visit ends with us doing the hunka-chunka, if you must know.”

“......fair enough. And you two are bunking together here because....”

Rae sighed, pulling Kylie closer to her. “It's a long, complicated and boring story, babe.....I needed a bit of a break, after that whole incident with Brittney Delacroix.” She shuddered in Kylie's grasp.

“She called me right after it happened,” Kylie added, stroking Rae's hair as the gynoid laid back. “It freaked her out, she needed a shoulder to cry on.....among other things....” She let out a low, quiet breath as she ran both hands through the tanned gynoid's chestnut-coloured locks. “I let her stay at my place for a while, and when HQ sent out the notice for us to move here until they gave the all-clear...”

Vicki sat upon the edge of the bed, glancing at the pair. “And does HQ know that you two....ah.....”

“As long as it doesn't interfere with our working relationship,” Rae purred, “nobody gives a damn.” Her limbs flexed as she yawned, prompting a smile from Kylie.

“Figured that.” The brunette gynoid stood, glancing back at Kylie and Rae as they settled into the disheveled bedsheets; “I'm guessing you two would like some personal time now,” she mused, “so....I'll be on my way, and all....you two will be okay on your own?”

Kylie shifted her position a bit, but otherwise didn't reply. “We'll be peachy, luv,” Rae assured her. “The minute she closes her eyes, it'll be off to dreamland for her, and a plug-in/conk-out for me...we've practically got a system worked out.” She grinned. “Keddy and I will be fine, Vicki...you could probably use a top-up yourself, though. Or at least a good nap.”

“Sleep won't help,” Vicki quietly replied. “I need.....”

The words to get out there and find Epsilon before the DVS does flitted through her processors, but she didn't speak them. HQ had given specific orders that no Field Agent was to act without authorization....a move, in all honesty, that was more than likely a direct result of her actions in Dawley two months prior.

“.....I don't know what I need right now.”

Before Rae or Kylie could reply, Vicki turned on her heel and headed for the door.

“Vicki, wait.”

Kylie's plea stopped the brunette gynoid in her tracks.

“I....I know it seems like this is too big for any of us to handle on our own,” she continued, “but....it's not. You've dealt with worse stuff than this before---we all have....” She didn't shy away as Rae's arms wrapped around her in another intimate embrace. “....and I know you can do this.”

The brunette gynoid sighed. “Thanks. I just...I don't want this to end in tears for all of us.”

“It won't,” Rae assured her, just as Kylie yawned. “I know I'm in no real place to guarantee anything, but I personally think you'll do just fine handling this. Keddy would agree, but...” She gestured to the now-snoring figure of the human Field Agent. “As you can see,” she whispered, “she's a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“Guess you'll go for that 'plug-in/conk-out', now,” Vicki mused. I'll leave you to it.....and thanks for the talk.”

“Not a problem, babe.” With a sigh, Rae retrieved one end of a recharge chord; with a quiet utterance of the word “lights”, she dimmed the room's lighting. “See you when everyone else is awake,” she murmured, adding a typical saucy wink. Seconds later, she inserted the cord in her navel with a click, and her head bowed to her chest; Kylie, almost as if she knew her lover was now recharging, shifted in her sleep to drape an arm across the chestnut-haired gynoid's chest.

I need to ask those two about other...encounters of theirs, Vicki mused.

After locking the door and closing it behind her, the brunette gynoid returned to her own room. The fact that Kylie---her former hall mate---was in a very intimate relationship with Rae was....unexpected, but given Rae's proclivities, it wasn't that surprising. I definitely didn't expect her to be...partnering...with Kylie, though.

Regardless of who was sleeping with who at the moment, the talk Rae and Kylie had given Vicki was enough to calm her fears....for the moment, at least. She still had plenty of questions---chief among them being why Oberon went through a full 180 after fighting her (and Epsilon)---but at the very least, she was willing to wait for any answers to them. Two weeks without any calls related to Octavia or the DVS was....good, admittedly, but the wait was beginning to become unbearable.

Something would have to happen soon.

And I sound like I want something to happen, the brunette gynoid realized. Indeed, two weeks of being cooped up inside an ALPA-funded apartment complex was slowly becoming very annoying...not to mention having next to no updates on where Epsilon was and who or what might be looking for him.

Other than Octavia and the DVS, obviously.....

The newly-appointed head of United Robotronics had only appeared in the spotlight once since her face had shown up in Brittney Delacroix's memory files---a local news story on her appointment, which aired once in the middle of the previous week and hadn't really made much of an impact on most people. Whatever the case, it felt like nobody outside of the ALPA knew just how dangerous Octavia was. Then again, we don't know exactly how dangerous she is, either.....

A sigh escaped the brunette gynoid's lips as she opened the door to her room. Even as she lay back down on the bed, she almost knew that sleep would bring no new answers. If anything, she'd still be asking the same questions when she woke up---probably a few new ones, too.

With an eye roll and another sigh, Vicki found the charging cord for her backup power cells and hiked up her shirt to plug it in. “Guess all I can do now is hope for some clarity in the morning,” she murmured, her eyes faintly glowing as the recharge cycle began.....

….and her internal WiFi synced up with the MacBook, re-opening her diary.

---

…...as for the former ALPA Chairman, I don't know what's going to happen.

I'd say I don't care what happens, but....I do. This whole situation with Epsilon may prove to be too much for just the ALPA to handle alone---I don't know if the Coalition will step in, or if we'll have to ask the House to help us out. Either way, we can't do this by ourselves.....

---

The fact that her sentiments regarding the Epsilon situation echoed her own feelings, which she'd expressed to Oberon in person two weeks prior, wasn't lost on the gynoid Field Agent. Once again, a sense of uncertainty came over her---almost as if she didn't want to continue....

---

Either way, we can't do this by ourselves. However this gets finished, it needs to be finished.

Until next time, V.I.C.I/Vicki Lawson.

---

Even as she saved and closed the diary file, Vicki knew that it wasn't the last time she'd be thinking about how the ex-Chairman's actions would affect the entire ALPA. She lay back on the bed, closing her eyes and allowing her sleep cycle to take over. She'd have, at best, two hours of sleep before the day proper started; given her current mood, she intended to get the best possible rest she could before sunrise.

Entering sleep cycle....goodnight.

---

---

Part 2

“.....and you're positive we've had no leads?”

Octavia Martinet frowned as she went over the report that had been handed to her. The past two weeks had been....trying, in all honesty---not helped by the fact that all data stored in the building relating to Epsilon was now gone. Reading over the file she'd been given, she realized all too quickly that any and all leads on the one responsible for that data loss were rapidly drying up.

“I'm afraid so, ma'am.” Kendall---or at least, the Kendall unit pressed into service to replace the one whose cranial assembly had been crushed like a tin can by Epsilon---sighed. “It seems we've---”

Her sentence ended in a slight gasp---Octavia was staring directly at her.

“It seems rather....convenient,” the dark-skinned gynoid mused, “that our saboteur was able to remove all data relevant to our search for Epsilon.” Her tone and expression hadn't changed, but there was a clear note of what might have been anger in her words. “And she knew about the hidden server.”

Kendall pondered that for a moment. “She could've---”

“No other employee in this facility told her,” Octavia continued. “There are no records of the Baron giving her that information, and there are most definitely no records of her ever accessing that hidden server at any point before her....final act.” Her nostrils flared slightly as she exhaled a slow, measured breath---an act that both reinforced the illusion of humanity, and helped to circulate cooler air through her internals. “If the Baron's suspicions about her true allegiance can be proven.....” She let the words trail off as she leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled.

For her part, Kendall didn't care who Celine---the aforementioned saboteur---had worked for. The memories recovered from her predecessor gave no indication that the Baron's former secretary was any kind of threat to the security of the mission. Then again, she hadn't exactly interacted with the crimson-haired aide often....

“If you have any doubts about our mission,” Octavia intoned, “you'd do well to vocalize them.”

“I was merely....reflecting on why Celine had never been taken to task for her apparent transgressions in years past,” Kendall replied. “It seems she's made numerous smaller errors before-hand...yet the Baron merely gave her a warning.” She scoffed; “More often than not,” she added, a hint of disgust tinging her words, “she was given multiple 'vacations' and days off in the wake of suspicious activity!”

Her indignant remark drew a smirk from Octavia. “You're questioning the Baron's judgement now?”

Anyone else would've denied the fact, tried to change the subject or debated the point for hours on end. As it stood, Kendall wasn't about to fall into the trap her new superior had set. “If you mean that I'm questioning his repeated decisions to simply allow a potential saboteur to come and go as she pleased while she was still in service to him....yes.” She retrieved her smartphone and scrolled down through an itemized list. “I've also found many hours' worth of conversations between the Baron and Celine recorded by the building's security system, which----”

Midway through the sentence, she froze. “Oc...tavia,” she gasped, her lips twitching slightly. “What...”

“You're not going to tell anyone else what you've just told me,” the green-eyed gynoid calmly informed her lithe, blonde colleague. “And you're not going to file any reports on what you've found.” She rose from her chair, her gaze never leaving the other gynoid as she made her way around the desk. “I'd ask you to promise me you won't tell, but....to be honest, your compliance is irrelevant.” She plucked the phone from Kendall's grasp.

“Why....are you.....”

“Celine wasn't our only security risk,” Octavia murmured. “She wasn't even the first...”

Her gaze now settled on the smartphone. “You should be lucky I'm not deleting your memories right now,” she casually informed Kendall. “I could, if I felt like it---one simple command to your internal parser, and you'd be a blank slate in seconds.” Her lips parted in a friendly smile. “It would be a great thing if you forgot about all this,” she added. “The Baron has a habit of...cutting loose ends, if you catch my meaning---”

“I....can't...move,” Kendall gasped. “Why....”

“Oh, sorry....nearly forgot to mention. I shut off your ambulatory and motor functions. Just as a precaution, of course....wouldn't want you lashing out at me, or anything like that....” Again, Octavia smiled. “You know how it is. Standard procedure, and all that....” Her attention returned to the smartphone, where---with a few swipes of her finger---the logs detailing every incriminating conversation between Celine and the Baron were wiped clean in a matter of seconds. “If the wrong people found out about this, we'd both be in trouble.”

Kendall's eye twitched. “....you....can't....”

“You want to know something funny?” Octavia inquired. “You were originally requisitioned to work for Drake Bradford. After your predecessor was scrapped by Epsilon, there were orders given for you to be sent to his office...” She circled around the paralysed gynoid, looking over her lithe figure with every step. “It's...ironic,” she murmured. “Knowing that I am my own person, a unique individual with thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams....and at the same time, fully understanding that I am a tool of the Baron, an artificial construct created solely for the fulfilment of his orders....you've never given much thought to anything like that, have you?”

“....I.....don't.....I need....to.....”

“Of course you haven't. Just as you never gave any thought to the bigger picture.” Octavia traced her finger across Kendall's shoulders as she circled the immobilised gynoid again. “You never think about the long-term, or plan for the end-game. You weren't designed to think that way.”

Something that might've been a tear made its way down Kendall's face. “....I.....”

“I don't blame you for wanting to report what you found. You're loyal to the Baron...an admirable trait. But you don't seem to realize that loyalty isn't always a good thing.” Octavia stared into Kendall's eyes, her expression neutral. “The Baron had his suspicions about Celine, and I'm sure he wasn't the only one. If things had been a bit different, he might very well have had her De-Commed on his own terms...in any case, he had his reasons for not De-Comming her. Our opinions on those reasons mean nothing.” She cupped Kendall's chin in her hand. “We obey the Baron because we were made to. It's as simple as that.”

She sighed. “The ALPA wants to change the world, gradually letting the rest of the world in on the way things are, campaigning for 'android rights'...they have no idea how wrong they are. Humanity is....fickle. Even if a hundred generations are able to live alongside machines in relative harmony, all it takes is one---not even one generation, but just one person---to ruin everything.”

Kendall's lips twitched again. “.....but.....”

“Machines ruling humanity won't work either. Humans, by nature, don't want to admit to anything controlling their lives. Oh, they like to kneel and pray and sing hymns for an hour or so every week, to profess belief in some unseen, all-knowing....thing....that they may or may not even believe in....” The toffee-skinned hand holding Kendall's chin pulled away. “It's fascinating, really....but I'm going on a tangent again. We do what we do because it needs to be done. The DVS exists to keep things in check---to balance everything out. If the ALPA gains too much ground, or the Coalition makes an advance in the wrong direction, we do what we can to push things back.” Octavia leaned in close. “We're a....necessary evil, to put it mildly.”

She noticed Kendall trying to glance at the phone. “....and those conversations you logged?” she whispered, picking up the phone and holding it up to the other gynoid's face. “They would've started something you could never hope to stop. Pebbles and ripples....you know the drill.”

Without another word, she tightened her grip on the phone....and as Kendall watched, helpless to stop her, the smartphone's casing and screen began to crack.

“You'll get a new phone,” Octavia assured her, smiling. “A small price to pay for the lesson you're learning.”

She punctuated the sentence by squeezing the phone even harder---and shattering it instantly.

Plastic, metal, silicon and glass fell from her hand to the floor, a rain of debris to be swept up by the next maid to pass through the room. The newly-appointed head of United Robotronics didn't even bother looking at the pile of parts and broken phone bits at her feet as she spoke: “I'm going to leave this room, Kendall....and twenty seconds after I close the door, you're going to reactivate. This entire conversation will be saved to a subdirectory in your memory, and you'll retain no memory of being paralysed. You'll remember that you need a new phone, but not why. You'll collect your belongings and go about your business without question, without thinking of reporting the logged conversations between the Baron and Celine, and you'll never think of filing another report about those conversations.”

Again, she gave a friendly smile. “Standard procedure. You know how it is.”

Kendall's lips worked silently, trying to protest.

“You were just doing your job,” Octavia called out, already striding past the immobile gynoid. “Except you did it a bit too well.” Her hand brushed against the doorknob; “Oh, and Kendall?” she added, almost absently.

The blonde gynoid was still frozen in place, staring at the wall on the other side of the room.

“Keep up the good work finding more data on Epsilon. We need all the help we can get to recover from that server failure.” Octavia turned the doorknob, opened the door, and strode out, catching the pull on the other side and closing the door behind her.

It was almost cheating, throwing in that “keep up the good work” bit---Kendall had no idea that she'd just been turned into a mobile recorder unit with a direct feed to the Baron's office. Then again, she'd nearly blown the lid off of the Celine debacle, as well....which would've gone over quite badly after their earlier cock-up out in Jakarta.

Octavia knew the Baron had his reasons for not de-comming the gynoid, just as she knew that there were other things that had been lost due to Celine's self-destruction.

It didn't matter. Only the will of the Baron mattered.

As she made her way to one of the building's conference rooms to go over a mundane finance report (which, in all honesty, she would've preferred to delegate to someone else), Octavia pondered how Kendall would react upon returning to her normal functionality. Her insistence on reporting the conversation logs was...troubling; a remote debug or other processor examination might be in order. There was even a possibility that Kendall might override Octavia's command and file away a report on the conversation logs later on....

She brushed the thoughts aside. The Baron's instructions had been clear, and she'd carried them out to the letter. All that was left now was to see what Kendall would do next.

The conference room was full by the time Octavia reached it, allowing her to focus on the task at hand instead of dwelling on Kendall's apparent reticence. There was something else that still bothered her, though---one of Celine's orders, regarding the observation of....someone. The full file had been lost when the server room went up like a Guy Fawkes Night bonfire---and that galled the president of United Robotronics more than she cared to admit....but still, she had a job to do. Searching for a lost order could wait.

“Thank you all for attending this meeting. If you'd all take your seats, we can begin.”

Part 3

Wake-up cycle initiated. Activating V.I.C.I. ………. all systems activated. RAM: OK ROM: OK Running full system scan………………………. Scan complete. All systems functioning at 100% efficiency. Reserve Battery charge level: 93.6% Good morning, V.I.C.I.; today is Saturday, October 1, 2011 The time is 08:10 AM.

With a yawn, Vicki extricated herself from the bedsheets she'd wrapped around herself after finally managing to enter her sleep cycle a few hours prior. She managed a lopsided grin---there was something weirdly funny about a gynoid advanced as herself starting the day with bed-head and a yawn. Ted would probably find it “fascinating”, as per usual....

After a quick shower and change of clothes, she headed off to check on Rae and Kylie---their door was half-open, allowing her to see Kylie asleep, wrapped in the blanket---with a Post-It note stuck to her forehead

“If you're looking for Rae,” Major Tom's voice called out from a few doors down, “she's already in the cafeteria going over the itinerary for today.” The words were followed with the sound of gargling, and spitting into a sink. “I'm surprised you didn't hear her belting out friggin' Cyndi Lauper about an hour ago,” he continued.

Vicki rolled her eyes. “I was asleep an hour ago....anyway, you said something about an itinerary?”

“I thought you'd know about it already....we are heading to your house, after all---”

“Wait, what?!” Vicki nearly barged into Tom's room, but decided against it---the memory of her intrusion into Rae's room a few hours before was still fresh in her mind. “Ted never told me anything about this!”

“He didn't?”

“No, he---” The brunette gynoid groaned as a hair dryer kicked on across the hall. “He never mentioned it.”

“Huh. I thought he'd have told you first....” A door inside the Major's room slammed closed, followed by the Major himself (wearing a Ramones t-shirt a size too big) emerging and stifling a yawn. “Said something about retrieving a few things and cleaning up the place so Joan won't have too much work after a day of tutoring and stuff...” He shrugged. “Guess he was too preoccupied to remember to tell you, or something...”

His theory did little to calm Vicki. “I still think it'd have been better if he actually told me about this first,” she muttered. “How did Rae find out before I did?!”

Major Tom shrugged. “She has her ways....”

I'll bet she does.... “You can at least tell me when we're heading out, right?”

“As soon as everyone else is ready---which hopefully won't be too much longer.” The Major didn't bother trying not to yawn this time. “Also, tell Rae I want my damn hat back.”

Vicki decided not to ask how Rae had acquired the Major's hat, choosing instead to head for the cafeteria and talk to Rae in person. I might ask her about the whole hat thing.... She grinned at the thought of quizzing Rae about it---hopefully, it wasn't a sore point of any kind. Starting an “incident” right before deployment would only end in tears for everyone involved, and Vicki did not want that sort of incident on her record so soon after the return of Epsilon....any distractions from her work might cost her dearly in the field, which wouldn't end well if she had another encounter with Epsilon.

I wonder if Rae's still wearing the---

Any and all thoughts about the hat Rae had nicked from the Major were silenced as soon as Vicki saw a brown fedora, not unlike the kind worn by a certain famous cinematic archaeologist, jauntily perched atop a familiar chestnut-haired head. “Oh, you are kidding.....” She weaved her way through the crowd to get to Rae, hoping to silently pluck the chapeau from her...

“Spack off, Vicks. The hat stays on my head.”

Bristling at Rae's nonchalant response (and being called “Vicks”), Vicki sat down next to her fellow Field Agent, staring at the hat in question. “It's a fedora. You're not even wearing the full outfit---”

“You think I'm going to go tearing up my wardrobe looking for a leather jacket, khakis and everything else out of that ensemble?” Rae countered. “I happen to like fedoras....used to wear one during my dancing days---and I can tell you don't want to hear about it,” she continued, “so I'll just shut up...” She grinned. “It looks better on me than it did on the Major, if I do say so myself. Aside from that....it's a hat. Am I not allowed to wear any hat of my choosing?” She fluttered her eyelids and gave a stereotypical pout.

“If it's someone else's hat, you might want to look into...I don't know....giving it back, maybe?”

Rae waved aside the suggestion. “I'll give it back if he takes back what he said about my hair.”

For a few seconds, Vicki considered asking what Major Tom had said about Rae's hair, but decided to go down another line of inquiry. “So when did Ted tell you about the upcoming op?”

“Two hours ago. Kylie was still asleep, so I figured I'd take a bit of a night jog....Ted was on his way back from the toilets. We chatted, he said we had an op coming---and he mentioned that it was coming soonish, as in today, so....” The chestnut-haired gynoid shrugged. “I left Kylie a note---”

“Stuck to her forehead....”

“She appreciates the uniqueness of how I leave messages. It's a thing.” Again, Rae shrugged. “Anyway, we'd better get to the vans and all,” she continued. “Wouldn't want the best seats to go to waste---”

“Is something going on between you and Kylie?” Vicki cut in. “I mean, other than the obvious....”

Any lingering traces of humour in Rae's voice and demeanour vanished. “I don't want her on this op, Vicki. I don't want her.....getting hurt, or killed. I get wrecked in the field, the techs can grab all my bits, drag 'em back here and just put me back together. Kylie....not so much.” She hugged herself, staring at the table; “I won't lose her because of this,” she muttered. “It won't be like.....”

The barest hint of a name was on her tongue for a full second, but she never spoke it.

“I won't lose her,” the chestnut-haired gynoid repeated. “I don't want to lose her.” She exhaled a fearful breath through her nostrils, looking for a moment as if she was seeing any number of scenarios in which she did lose Kylie. “I can't.....”

Even as Vicki thought of asking if she was feeling okay, Rae shook off whatever fear had gripped her. “It's for her own good, and mine,” she stated, not turning to look at the brunette gynoid. “It'll give her time to get a full medical check, all that good stuff....maybe get recertified over at the shooting range.” She smiled, showing off far too many teeth, and giving Vicki the impression she was about to go for someone's neck. “She won't mind, I'm sure....she probably won't mind.”

“Maybe you can ask her,” Vicki suggested. “She's over there by the vending machines---” She turned around to point Kylie out. “---getting a Sun Drop or something....”

When she turned back around, Rae was nowhere to be seen.

For some reason, the brunette gynoid expected to sit with either Rae or Kylie during the ride---Rae might want to apologize for running off, she reasoned, and Kylie would probably want to know why she had a Post-It note stuck to her forehead. To her surprise, neither Rae or Kylie even rode in the same van as she did---her seat-mate for the trip ended up being Calliope. “Figured you'd want a break from the lovers' quarrel back there,” she mused, nodding to the queue at the van behind theirs. “That, and I'm fresh off another tune-up---”

A slamming door cut her off, followed soon after by the van behind the one Vicki was sitting in roaring past, its tires squealing as it tore up the road.

Seconds later, an agonized shout of “KYLIE!” trailed after it.

“....so, like I was saying,” Calliope muttered, “I just got finished with a tune-up---”

The front passenger door flew open, and Major Tom took his seat next to a dark-skinned male Vicki hadn't met before. “....and tell HQ that Agent Linden is going to be brought in for a disciplinary hearing as soon as this is over,” the Major stated, scowling. “That little outburst of hers back there---”

He stopped, noticing Vicki and Calliope staring at him from the farthest seats back.

“...never mind.” The other man decided to introduce himself while the Major exited the vehicle; “Calliope, Miss Lawson, I'm Agent Harris.” He shook hands with both gynoids. “I've heard a lot about you, Miss Lawson.”

Vicki rolled her eyes. “Who hasn't?”

Harris grinned. “If it's any consolation, everything I've heard has been positive. Ted, in particular, can't stop doting on you....he seems to think you'll be running Lawson Robotics yourself, at this rate!”

The intended retort Vicki had in mind died on her tongue. “He said that?”

“Repeatedly. I worked with him on the Crystal City project a few years ago...it's a shame you weren't a Field Agent back then. We could've used someone like you on our side when things went screwy.”

[iI'm guessing that “things going screwy” is why Ted doesn't talk about the Crystal City assignment[/i].... Vicki decided to shift the conversation to another topic. “I haven't really seen you around the Valley before today, y'know. Which Field Office did you transfer from?”

“I was in Oregon last year....first half of this year, things were a cross-country tour.”

Calliope arched an eyebrow. “Were you the one at the Cabo showroom---”

“Yeah, that was me,” Harris admitted. “Never thought the water cooler would put out the fire the way it did.”

Most of Vicki's attention was still focused on the call Major Tom was making---and unlike the call made by Selwyn McElvoy the previous month, she couldn't simply “borrow” the senses of another gynoid to eavesdrop on the call. After a few seconds of “just” using her enhanced hearing to pick up bits of the conversation, she gave up on trying to discern too much from it, turning her focus back to Harris and Calliope. “....and from what Ted told me,” Harris stated, “we need to get this done.”

“I'm surprised he hasn't jumped on this sooner,” Calliope agreed. “The Epsilon situation is....unique---definitely not a 'textbook' case.”

Jumping into the conversation now would probably end really, really badly.... Vicki leaned back in her seat, staying silent to avoid embarrassing herself---

“---and you've had experience with that before, right, Vicki?”

Oh, here we go.... “If I look back far enough,” the brunette gynoid replied, “I can probably find memories of a lot of experiences.” She grinned, hoping her answer to Calliope's question wouldn't come back to bite her any time soon.

“So you have charged a car battery before?”

Harris' reply earned a raised eyebrow. “We....were talking about Epsilon----”

“And then I started the van. Or tried to start it...” Harris turned the key a few times, frowning as the engine failed to turn over. “All of the other vans are leaving---it'd be a waste of time calling them back now---”

“Well, we're in luck. I have started a car battery before.” Vicki exited the van---noticing that Rae and Major Tom were riding off in what appeared to be a Land Rover---and made her way around to get at the hood. “It won't take long,” she assured Harris and Calliope. “Just give me a sec....and you may want to get out of the van, just in case.” With her colleagues literally standing by, the brunette gynoid popped the hood of the van and cracked her knuckles. “Here goes....”

Increasing charge to Detaining Grip

Lightning danced around her fingertips as she grabbed the leads on the battery, focusing her attention entirely on the task at hand. Within seconds, the battery sparked, the engine turned over, and Vicki gave a quiet, relieved sigh. “Battery's started....we can go now.”

“You started it that fast?” It was Harris' turn to raise an eyebrow. “I thought it was 'red to dead lead, red to donor lead' and all that stuff.....”

“Well, I didn't need to use cables,” Vicki admitted. “Ready to head off?”

Harris chuckled. “....I thought he was kidding....”

“Who was kidding about what?” the brunette gynoid asked, frowning slightly.

“Ted....he told me you pulled this once before, back in the 80s....I didn't believe him----”

“So you thought you'd see for yourself?” There was an air of annoyance in Vicki's tone, as if she found the idea of someone putting a dead battery in to test her abilities was a mild form of insult.

“Actually, the battery for this van was due to be changed last week,” Calliope cut in. “Major Tom had to sort of push this particular van half the way up the drive....the battery worked when we got it out of the garage, but then it sort of...stopped.....” She stared at the ground. “Harris figured it'd be interesting to see if you really could charge it....”

Any remaining traces of Vicki's annoyance evaporated at the clockwork gynoid's embarrassment. “Don't worry about it. I've had weirder tests imposed upon me before....” She gestured towards the van. “Shall we?”

Three minutes later, the trio had caught up with the rest of the “convoy” on the way to Ted's, with Rae and the Major's Land Rover near the middle of the pack; Kylie's “borrowed” vehicle was nowhere to be seen. I may need to talk to them both after this is over with, Vicki realized. And I have a feeling it wasn't just the Sticky Note to the forehead that set Kylie off....whatever it was, I'm not looking forward to the outcome if either of them decides they're not in a talking mood.

“You wouldn't happen to know why we're going to your dad's house, would you?” Calliope asked, interrupting the brunette gynoid's train of thought.

“In all honesty......no.”

“Allow me to take the mystery out of it,” Harris replied. “It's a mission briefing. As in, how we're going to keep the DVS from getting their hands on Epsilon, how we'll try to contain Epsilon without drawing any unwanted attention to us or it....stuff like that. And Ted mentioned he needed to check on something, too.....”

Vicki allowed herself a grin. “As long as it doesn't involve the stove----”

The radio handset built into the dash erupted in a squeal of static and noise, followed by several very loud shouts from Major Tom: “---MEAN, SHE'S NOT AT TED'S?! SHE TOOK ONE OF THE DAMN VANS AND SHE JUST DROVE OFF?! WHERE----” A loud thump issued through the van's speakers. “NO, I RAN OVER A STUPID BIKE---NO, THERE WASN'T ANYONE ON IT, I HIT A BIKE STAND---SHUT UP AND KEEP EXPLAINING, DAMNIT!”

Harris switched off the radio. “...guess I know what the first order of business will be at next month's meeting,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I thought Linden was one of the calm ones....”

Any number of remarks about Kylie's relationship with Rae passed through Vicki's thought processes....

….but none of them were voiced by the brunette gynoid.

Part 4

Ten minutes later, the van glided to a stop on the opposite side of the street from Ted's house---further up the road, the Land Rover that Major Tom and Rae had left HQ in was halfway through someone's fence. “Don't mention it when we get inside,” Harris warned.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Vicki quietly replied.

The house looked relatively unchanged from the days since Vicki had last lived in it---apart from a few new terminal PCs built into the walls at strategic points around the living room area. It dawned on the gynoid that, for all the memories of her “walking appliance” days, she had even more memories of the Lawson house being her true home---a veritable fortress. Ted did call the place “Castle Lawson”, once upon a time, she recalled, almost grinning at the memory.

Just as quickly, she saw Ted himself---looking as if he hadn't slept since the fight with Oberon and Epsilon.

“Dad?!” Ignoring Harris' quizzical glance and Calliope's utterance of “Vicki, wait!”, the brunette gynoid rushed to her father's side. “I hate to say it, but---”

“I look like hell?” Ted chuckled. “That's what happens when you spend 24 hours without sleep, trying to come up with the necessary palpitations for the calculations of the ambulations.....” He stopped, realizing his verbal gaffes. “.....is it okay if I sleep on the floor?” he mumbled, nearly falling over where he stood---only for Vicki to take hold of his shoulders and guide him towards the couch. “Just....take it easy, Dad,” she whispered.

“......need to.....perimeter,” Ted muttered. “...seal off.....streets and back-ways....protect the......” Someone draped a blanket over him; Vicki looked up to see Alicia LeHane regarding Ted with an almost sad look. “He really didn't get any sleep,” the House agent informed her. “Drank six Red Bulls last night....”

“Were you the one assigned to watch him?” Vicki quietly asked.

“Three other House agents had that job. I was watching MuchMusic---oh, and you really need to update your taste in songs, Vicki. Classic stuff is great, and all, but---”

Harris' throat-clearing cut her off. “Meeting's about to start,” he stated. “We should probably.....” He noticed Ted napping on the couch. “The guy didn't sleep a wink last night,” the blonde gynoid explained. “Cut him some slack, will you?”

Anything Harris could've said in reply was cut off by something banging---beneath the floor.

“Rae's in the lab downstairs,” Alicia informed a somewhat-rattled Vicki---which only served to turn the gynoid's alarm into confusion. “Downstairs?! I didn't even know this house had a downstairs lab!”

“Well, it does. She's looking for.....honestly, I don't know why she's down there, but she is.”

After a few microseconds of considering a reply, Vicki settled for an eye-roll, half-bemused sigh and plopping down into the nearest recliner. “As long as she doesn't break anything down there....” She glanced at the now-snoring figure of Ted on the sofa; “Any chance we can hold off on this until he wakes up?” she quietly asked.

“Since Ted is the main speaker for the briefing....looks like we'll have to.” Harris nodded to someone on the other side of the living room. “DuBraul's not going to like the delay, obviously.”

The look he received from Vicki said more than any words could've.

“....and I can tell you don't really care,” Harris concluded with a sigh. “I'll tell him Ted needs to sleep off an all-nighter before we start---”

A shout from the front yard cut him off. “Please tell me that wasn't Major Tom,” Vick began---just as a flying, roughly spherical object shattered one of the windows and came to rest at her feet. Harris tripped over himself backing away from it, but Vicki, frowning as if the thing was merely a rock with a menacing note attached, just sighed and rested her foot on it. “I'll handle it---”

“VICKI, NO!”

Faster than anyone could spot, Alicia had charged towards the spherical object, scooping it up in one hand and throwing it through another window; a cloud of bluish smoke erupted from the thing, followed shortly after by one of the wall-mounted terminals and the microwave going haywire. “That was an EMP grenade,” Alicia hissed. “Short-range---if you'd have stepped on it---” She dove forward, practically attacking another grenade with a double-underhand smash that sent it through the window and straight into a black Hummer haphazardly parked on the curb outside.

“Someone's followed us here!” Harris drew a USP Compact from a side holster, aiming in the direction of the now-disabled Hummer. “Defensive positions---”

“I'll check upstairs,” V.I.C.I replied, dashing off in a blur before Harris could ask a single question. The trip to Jamie's room, complete with the window Harriet had always parked herself outside to spy on Jamie (amazing how she never fell and broke her tailbone, the brunette gynoid mused). Just as she reached the closed (and locked) door to Jamie's room, the telltale sound of shattering glass sounded from inside. I knew Ted should've cut down that tree sooner.....

Given the use of EMP ordnance earlier, the idea of kicking in the door to take on the intruder (or intruders) was right out...still, the brunette gynoid had a few other ways to take out potential threats. One hand closed around the doorknob, with V.I.C.I cycling thermal energy through her hand and into the pull....

...just as the intruder grabbed and turned the doorknob.

A yelp, followed by the smack of a solid wood door against a human forehead, were the only signs of the brief “struggle” as the gynoid Field Agent emerged into the room. A figure in bulky black fatigues and body armour, with a ski mask covering his (or her---the ill fit of the clothes made it difficult to discern gender) face, lay on the floor, groaning. “One down,” V.I.C.I whispered, “and probably more to go----”

The words barely left her lips when another EMP grenade went sailing through the window.

A backhand strike knocked it outside. So much for a nice, peaceful return home.....

---

Ten blocks away, a young man listened to the proceedings at the Lawson house with a somewhat annoyed frown crossing his lips. “You're sure that house is where this....Lawson girl lives?” he inquired, glancing at the seat across the table from him. “My time is very valuable, Bradford---”

“That's her damn house,” Drake Bradford spat. “That's where Vicki Lawson is right now, Max! I wouldn't have told you about it if I didn't know for sure---”

Bradford's rant was cut off with an exaggerated sigh from “Max”---aka Max Mills. Often said to be “the next Bill Gates”, and even compared to Gary Kildall, the late founder of Digital Research, Mills was well-known for three reasons: his wealth and impeccable taste, his media-centric appeal....and his disdain for the robotics industry as a whole. “I know you wouldn't be wasting my time,” he replied, making an effort not to yawn as he spoke the words, “and after all you've done for me, helping you with this....small favour is the least I can do to repay you. That being said....” He interlaced his fingers, cracking the knuckles before resting his hands on the table and staring into Bradford's eyes. “.....I'm starting to wonder why you're after the girl, instead of her father.”

“I don't give a crap about her dad!” Drake spat. “That stupid girl—--”

“Drake,” Max calmly replied, “I'm more than happy to help you pursue this vendetta of yours....but I need more to go on than just 'she screwed me over'.” He turned a pen over in his hands as he spoke, remembering what had dragged him into this mess to begin with. One of his girls, a runner with a flawless record, an equally flawless appearance and something of an infatuation with him, had been in a bit of an accident involving an industrial press at one of Mills' factories. What should've been a bloody mess, however, revealed the girl to have been a humanoid robot of some kind, complete with a maker's mark---which had led Max nowhere after a few weeks of calls, Internet searches and his lawyers suddenly showing up in the middle of the night to tell him they'd “take care of it”, and to please stop calling people with threats of legal action.

The fact that the girl's two “sisters”, both with the last name Bishop, never called or asked about her served only to further his paranoia, even more than the lawyers' claims of “you voided her warranty” had.

Thus, a quick trip to the old Rolodex was in order, and one name that came up time and again was Bradford. Max's parents had worked with the Bradford family once upon a time, and it was obvious that the two could help each other in this newest time of need.

Speaking of which....

“....and she threw me into the damn magazine rack!” Bradford was shouting. Max nearly smirked, but decided against it as Bradford finished his rant. “And now....this Octavia person......she's---Max, I need your help, here!”

“Then you can earn it,” Max coolly replied, reaching under the table. “You've seen one of these before?”

Bradford nearly started yelling again, stopping only when Max laid a smallish, golf ball-sized orb on the table and rolled it between his hands. “They pulled this out of Mel's head after her little 'accident' with the metal press,” he explained. “My guess is, it's her black box---a recorder for everything she sees and hears, useful for whoever planted her on my team.” He palmed the orb, leaning forward as he did; “I've heard whispers for a good long while, Drake,” he continued. “Names and acronyms that I never understood---DVS, Coalition, ALPA, the House......and I think I want to join you at the table for this game. I want in.”

“You don't want this,” Bradford stammered. “You....you're not gonna want to be a part of this, Max---”

“Then you can go without my help,” Max replied, leaning back and folding his arms. “I've been following a lot of leads for a long time, Drake.....you've got connections I could only dream of. You want me to help you with the Lawson girl, then tell me who these people are---starting with the DVS.”

At the mention of those three letters, Bradford flinched. “....you....you want them?!”

Max started to say something, but stopped. There was a genuine panic in Bradford's words, almost as if the DVS (who or whatever they were) had managed to wreck his life in the span of a few days. He'd known Drake for years, and considered himself a close business associate---and, quite possibly, even a good friend.

“Drake,” he finally stated, “not only do I want them....” A chuckle escaped his lips. “What are you so damn scared of, anyway?” he asked, letting his admittedly purile remark die on his tongue. “Did they---”

“IT DOESN'T MATTER,” Drake roared. His fists smashed into the table like mallets, rattling the dishes and nearly knocking the onyx orb from Max's hands. “They....I.....” As swiftly as his fists had hit the table, they unclenched as he tore at his hair. “I can't.....it......”

As Max watched, Drake Bradford buried his face in his hands and, for the first time in years, wept.

It should've been a sobering moment---the time for Max to finally realize he was the proverbial fool rushing in where the angels feared to tread. Indeed, part of him wanted to just let this pursuit of the DVS boil off into the ether, evaporating like Bradford's tears eventually would.....but the other part---the calculating, cunning and downright predatory side of him that had made him Silicon Valley's answer to the wolves of Wall Street---was not going to let that happen.

“Drake,” he softly informed his friend, “just tell me where to find them, and I'll make it all go away.”

Had his brother been present---or still alive, for that matter---he would've told Max not to pull such a dick move on Bradford. But it was his specialty, after all---the Max Mills playbook relied extensively on manipulation, coercion, ego-building and exploitation. He'd built his career on saying what needed to be said to the people who needed to hear it---what his grandparents (who'd raised him for a time after the incident that took his parents from him) called “attitude”, his peers recognized as a Type A personality.

“Drake,” he repeated, a bit louder this time. “I'm here. Just look across the table---look at me, my man. I'm here for you.” He smiled---the expression surprisingly genuine-looking. “You need anything, just ask.”

“.....you....you're really gonna do it,” Drake muttered. “You're going after the DVS?”

It occurred to Max that he'd managed to make Bradford forget about “the Lawson girl” for the time being----a good sign. “Yeah, I'm going after the DVS.”

---

“UPSTAIRS CLEAR!” Vicki's voice rang out through the upper floor of the Lawson residence, even as groans and the occasional profanity were emanating from the rooms below. The would-be intruder from Jamie's room had been handcuffed to the handles of the cabinet Vicki had spent her nights in, when she was still a “walking appliance”. “Everything sorted down---”

A fresh burst of gunfire, followed by someone getting hit in the kneecap and sent to the floor in a screaming heap, cut her off.

“Still working on sorting it all out,” Harris replied, not looking up from the incident report form he was filling out as Vicki descended the stairs, “but you might be surprised to know that only a few of these guys are known associates of Drake Bradford. The rest....” Now, he did turn to glance at Vicki. “The rest are working for someone we've never dealt with before. Not even ex-Knightwind this time---” Another pained shout from a few feet away cut him off, but he ignored it. “---whoever they are,” he continued, as Alicia wrestled the yelling idiot to the floor, “they're not amateurs. EMP grenades, low-charge SCEMP rounds....”

“They knew they'd be facing androids,” Vicki finished. “Or maybe they were here---”

“For you?” Rae Clarke called out, emerging from the kitchen. “Wouldn't bet on it---oh, and apologies for disappearing on everyone during the big shootout.....had some business to attend to downstairs. Hope none of ours got hurt....” She let the words trail off. “....and who's mad at me now?”

Vicki stared at her for a moment. “What exactly were you doing down there?” Her gaze rested on Rae's head, and what she was no longer wearing on top of it. “.....and where's the Major's fedora?”

“You're still hung up on that?” Rae giggled. “Seriously, Vicks...it's a hat. He can get another one.”

Harris and Vicki exchanged annoyed glances. “You spent all that time in the basement to drop off a hat?”

“No, Harris, I didn't spend all that time in the basement to drop off a hat. I was doing other things---”

“We can discuss the details later,” Vicki cut in. “We need to figure out who these people are and what the hell they were doing....here....” Her thought processes instantly zeroed-in on one particular scenario: “Has anyone checked on Ted?!” She ran past Harris and Rae, to the couch where her father had been napping....

….to find the blanket Alicia draped over him resting on the sofa with nobody underneath it.

“Dad....”

“Is five blocks away,” Harris stated. “As soon as the shooting started, some of our people got Ted out the door and into a car outside. He's safe, Vicki.”

A few seconds passed before the brunette gynoid was able to nod in agreement. “Fair enough.”

“Sucks that the mission briefing's gone to pot, though,” Rae mused. “We all came here for information---oh, what now?!” That last remark was directed at her phone, though her annoyance vanished when she read the name of the caller. “It's Ked---Kylie,” she murmured. “I....should take this, probably....” She headed back into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

“.....so, if Ted's safe,” Vicki continued, choosing to ignore the drama of Rae's love life for the time being, “what's our next move? We still need to contain Epsilon and keep him from tearing apart all of Silicon Valley...”

Her question earned a stern glare from Harris. “I'm pretty sure that tearing apart Silicon Valley is the last---”

Something in the kitchen hit the floor and shattered, instantly catching Vicki's attention. “SORRY,” Rae called out, “stupid coffee mug handle got all sweaty on me.....” The chestnut-haired gynoid poked her head through the partially-opened door. “Hope you didn't have too much sentimental attachment to this...”

“If it's the Garfield mug, don't sweat it. Mom always said there was lead paint in that thing...”

“Which begs the question of why she never took a hammer to it herself,” Rae teased, striding into the living room. “ANYway. Keddy's on her way here---she ran into a bit of trouble at an old factory, but she's fine now.” She grinned. “Also, for the record....might want to fix up the furniture before Joanie gets back---”

“My mother,” Vicki replied, “is out of town. I'll have someone take care of---Rae, who are you calling?!”

The brunette gynoid's panicked question prompted Rae to pull a face. “I'm calling Alicia, to give the all-clear.”

After an exasperated sigh, Vicki flopped down on the sofa. “Call HQ while you're at it---we're holding an emergency briefing. Calliope, go make sure nobody's hiding in any of the other rooms upstairs---your clockworks are less susceptible to EMPs than conventional circuitry. Everyone else....just keep these people contained.” Even in her somewhat-weary state, that air of finality she'd become famous for was clear. “Harris, get a message out to HQ....if they need a secondary testimony about this, get Rae to talk to them.”

Harris nodded. “I guess the Major will join the briefing when he gets back....”

Vicki sighed again. “He can join in after he explains why he put a van through the fence...”

Part 5

Octavia frowned as the last of the attendants for the meeting left the conference room. It wasn't out of a sense that she'd failed in some way---on the contrary, she'd done exactly what the Baron wanted her to, and possibly even opened a few new avenues for the DVS to explore in regards to profit margin and influence.

No, her frown was brought on by the troubling news of an “incident” in San Jose, received during the meeting.

Minutes after the first message had appeared in her field of vision, several additional notes, all corroborating the same basic story---a strike team using DVS-spec gear had attacked the residence of an ALPA-aligned roboticist, Theodore “Ted” Lawson. A second strike team, also using DVS-spec gear, had been deployed to a factory formerly owned by Drake Bradford around the same time. The attack on the Lawson residence had ended rather quickly, with no reported fatalities (though all members of the strike team had either fled or been incapacitated), but the Bradford factory incident was “ongoing”---and at least one bystander had been shot.

That wasn't what troubled Octavia. Nor was she bothered by the fact that the Lawson house strike team had been incapacitated.....

….no, the true cause of her ire was that neither strike team was actually part of the DVS.

“No order was given,” she murmured---partially to herself, but also just loud enough for Harmony, Melody and their newly-appropriated assistant, Siren, to hear. “The Baron never authorized an attack on any known allies of the ALPA---at least, no such order was issued to me.”

“Perhaps the Baron wanted to....surprise you,” Harmony offered.

“To test your reaction to spontaneous events,” Melody agreed.

Siren had just opened her mouth to add her thoughts, but Octavia silenced her with a glare. “I think I've come far enough in my service to the Baron,” she reminded the three gynoids, “to not need such 'tests' on a regular basis.” She rose from her chair, already looking away from Harmony, Melody and Siren. “Whoever carried out these attacks is not with the DVS....we could be dealing with a rogue element.”

This time, Siren got the first word in: “Could it have been a distraction?”

Harmony and Melody shot her annoyed glances, but Octavia looked rather intrigued. “Explain.”

“Someone may have ordered the attacks to draw our attention away from....other matters,” Siren replied. “For example, someone else may be looking for Epsilon---”

'Siren,” Harmony warned. “We talked about this...”

“.....your theory could lead us all astray,” Melody added, “if you turn out to be wrong---”

Octavia held up a hand to stop them, her eyes never leaving Siren. “Go on....”

“Suppose someone else is looking for Epsilon,” the petite gynoid theorized. “And that someone.....knows of our world, for lack of a better term. They know about it, they know people----things like us exist....but they don't have all the details. They don't know what the ALPA is, or who's in the Coalition....they may not even know anything about the DVS---but they've seen Epsilon.” She ignored Harmony's overly theatrical groan, and Melody's eye-rolling. “Maybe someone they know was hurt in the last rampage, or affected in some way---”

“And they wanted answers,” Octavia finished, nodding. “I think we can eliminate most of the...average citizens of Silicon Valley, by default---none of them have the resources to carry out a vendetta like this.” Even as she spoke, a process within her CPU pinged the DVS' servers for a search query.

“You don't seriously think,” Harmony began, but Melody stopped her.

After two seconds, Octavia let out a short, sharp gasp---an involuntary “reflex”, triggered by the end of a search routine. “....How many...unaffiliated robotics companies have caused problems for the DVS in years past?” she inquired.

Harmony and Melody were somewhat confused---but Siren spoke up quickly. “Very few, ma'am.”

“And of those few....how many might have been affected by Epsilon?”

“....I don't know.” Siren's brief look of triumph faded into a downcast expression.

Octavia gave her a reassuring smile. “Then we can find out together. Harmony, Melody---run a search on all known opponents of the DVS. Cross-reference them with a net worth of.....$10,000,000 or more.”

“With all due respect, ma'am,” Harmony replied, “that could take hours---”

“---or weeks,” Melody finished. “There's no way of knowing how many---”

The stare they received in return held just enough menace to silence their protests.

“What if this is a rogue element from the Coalition?” Siren quietly asked. “They haven't been too happy with---”

“SIREN!” Melody hissed; Harmony guided the shorter gynoid away from her. “We've discussed this already,” she reminded her fellow DVS agent.

“Melody yelling at me doesn't count as 'discussing' it,” Siren sulked. “She never let me get a word in!”

Melody scowled. “You're supposed to be our intermediary---”

“Weaving your song between ours,” Harmony added, “and---”

“Enough, both of you.” Octavia ushered Siren to a chair. “Things between the Coalition and the ALPA have already been...tempestuous, in recent history,” she informed her. “Acts of direct sabotage....aren't tolerated, to say the least---” Another message popped up in her field of vision, earning a frown. “...at least we know that these attacks weren't orchestrated by the Baron,” she muttered. “He's demanding a full explanation, and an inquiry....”

The memory of Celine's self-immolation briefly rose to the forefront of her thought processes.

“Whoever did this,” she continued, suppressing the shudder that she felt coming on, “is more than likely not with the ALPA or the Coalition.” She would've said “and not with the DVS, either”....but that fact effectively went without saying. Nobody in the DVS was stupid enough to try something like this on their own---the Baron had made it abundantly clear that such “ambition” would lead straight to the unemployment line (for the “lucky”) or a five-week wait for the inevitable missing persons report to be filed (for the “terminally incompetent”, as the Baron tended to call anyone stupid enough to think they could get away with defying his orders).

As if she could read Octavia's thought processes, Siren piped up: “What about anyone from our side?”

Melody uttered half of a swear word, which trailed off into a frustrated groan; Harmony settled for blowing out an exasperated sigh.

“It's not anyone from our side,” Octavia absently replied. “None of ours are that....ambitious.” Even as she spoke the words, another memory---Kendall's insistence on reporting all of Celine's suspicious activity---surged into her vision. “Aside from that, the Baron has people working to weed out any would-be traitors.”

She conveniently neglected to mention that she had been given that exact task.

“You're actually suggesting we listen to her,” Harmony muttered, glancing at Siren with obvious annoyance.

“Her flights of fancy may be a complete waste of our time!” Melody added.

“And you two have better ideas?”

It wasn't Octavia who chastised the two gynoids---indeed, she was staring, almost too stunned to say anything, as Siren glared at her “teammates”. “You spend so much time working on your battle banter,” she snapped, “and so little time actually preparing for any battles you might get into.....” She glanced at Octavia, trying not to give the impression of pleading. “It's because I look so freaking young, isn't it? My registration papers clearly state that my emulated age is 26, but I look like I just turned 18---and the clothes they keep buying me don't help AT ALL!”

Even as Harmony and Melody tried to find something interesting to stare at, so as to avoid Octavia's glance, their supervisor realized that Siren did, in fact, have very valid points of contention with her “teammates”. Her slender frame barely topped five feet, and her wardrobe---sports bra and a crop top over B-cup breasts, acid-washed jean shorts, knee socks and sneakers, with her hair done up in twin pigtails---did little (if anything) to give the impression that she was a capable operative in her own right. “I'm sick of being treated like a Kid Sister, especially by THEM!” Siren's stomp sent her pigtails bouncing---an almost comical punctuation to her remark, if not for the note of genuine frustration (and a borderline tearful breakdown) in her voice.

After a few seconds of silent contemplation, Octavia nodded. “Siren, I think it's high time you got a makeover befitting your status within the DVS.” She handed over a platinum credit card; “Just tell them it's a birthday gift from Miss Martinet,” she added. “You'll be looking like royalty in no time.....”

Even as Siren's jaw went slack over her newly-received gift, Octavia turned her attention towards Harmony and Melody. “As for you two,” she continued, “you'll be setting up a meeting with the five highest-earning CEOs in Silicon Valley, to see which of them has probable cause to muscle in on our operation---starting with....” She paused, reflexively touching two fingers to her temple as the first name from the list came up.

“Is something wrong?” Harmony asked, followed swiftly by Melody's inquiry of “Is it someone we know?”

“....I've heard his name before,” Octavia quietly replied, “but....I thought he wasn't one to lavish support on the robotics industry.” She transferred the picture to the table-top screens, allowing Harmony and Melody to get a glimpse of their prospective “interviewee”---handsome, possibly late-20s to mid 30s, and (surprisingly) not smiling or even looking at the camera, but looking past it. “Have any of our affiliates had any dealings with him before?”

“Not that we're aware of,” Harmony replied; Melody was quick to add “....but it couldn't hurt to check.”

“Which is why you'll be checking this lead in an hour,” Octavia informed them. “Siren, wait for me in the car park---I think I'll join you on that shopping trip...” She smiled as the petite gynoid bolted past her, letting the expression fade into a frown as soon as the door closed behind her. “You two,” she quietly reminded Harmony and Melody, “should be more supportive of her---and don't say she'll never be as good as Cadence was. She isn't Cadence, and she wasn't designed to replace her....so stop treating her like she's an outsider and start treating her like your teammate.”

Harmony and Melody were stunned into silence by the rebuke. They'd intended to mention Kendall's recent (as in, a few hours before) erratic behaviour, had it not been for Siren's decision to speak out....

“You can start arranging interviews now,” Octavia informed the pair, not bothering to look at them as she paced around the conference table to collect the notes left behind. “I expect an e-mail confirming the appointment in 30 minutes.....and before that, you can pick up Siren when she's done with her shopping spree.”

Despite their annoyance at that last order, Harmony and Melody nodded. It was going to be a long, long day...

---

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