Early September 1998 Story

[Monorail Station, I6 on Lost Point Map]

Zane stares in disbelief as the remaining Lost Point refugees are shoved into the monorail train. There are so many of them packed into the train, that they are forced to stand. The weakest sway helplessly in the crowd--and would surely collapse if there were only room to collapse.

The frown stiffens on Zane's face as he pulls his drab gray spacesuit back onto his body. Before replacing his helmet, the Human turns to Kyran. But his words are mainly for his own benefit.

"It doesn't make sense. How could Mr. Streel know about these people and leave them here in this condition? He had to be aware of what kind of filth they were living in. He seems to know everything before anyone else does."

"Why would he care?" offers Kyran.

"Mr. Streel is responsible for all of Metrosphere," replies Zane. "With all the resources at his fingertips, he could have at least made the environment more livable for these people."

"Yes, he could have," agrees Kyran. "He didn't."

Zane fixes his helmet in place. His voice now sounds distant and hollow, passing through the plexiglass faceplate. "I don't like this at all. Don't tell anyone about Cimmy. Are you coming back in with me or going with your people?"

"Every fiber of my heart tells me to stay with my people. . .but I know that I won't be able to do anything for them if I board that train. I can best serve them by regrouping with my comrades and organizing the next move."

"Good," says Zane. "If you're going with me, put your helmet back on and turn invisible. Then haul ass back in. I'll catch up with you in a minute."

Zane activates his chronocom, trying again and again to connect to Selson Streel. But his calls are not answered. "Come on, Streel!" growls Zane--knowing that the city's leader most likely cannot hear him. "If you knew about these people, why didn't you help them sooner?"

The chronocom beeps and flashes with an incoming call.

A bit startled, Zane pushes a key to accept the call. T'Klkk's insectoid face appears in the view panel.

"There you are!" says Zane--still visibly upset. "Why didn't you guys reply when I tried to contact you earlier?"

"Four degrees of apology, team-mate," says the face in the panel. "We thought it best to abandon our chronocoms so they could not be used as tracking devices."

"Yeah, well maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Something screwy is going on with Mr. Streel--"

"He may not be Selson Streel," says T'Klkk.

"Well, he sure looked like him."

"There is much to explain, team-mate. We shall do so when me meet in person. What is the situation with the Lost Point citizens?"

"They're gone. An army of security robots showed up and hauled them like animals to First Landing."

T'Klkk nods. "There is nothing we can do for them at this time. It is expedient that you rejoin us in the west life support room. Kyran can show you the way."

[Life Support Section, H8 on Lost Point Map]

The east hatch slides open, admitting Kyran and Zane. The rest of the team--less Taanik--and eight more armored Lost Point soldiers are already in the room.

"So I guess we're friends now," says Zane, noticing how the Lost Point soldiers and team members are able to share the same space without trying to kill each other.

Tork looks up from an explosive charge that he is defusing. He had placed it there expecting trouble, but now that relations were patched up, he wouldn't be needing it any more. "We may have a common enemy. Spider, the guy we followed here, claims that he is the real Selson Streel--and that the real Dakka Syte hacked into the Star Law criminal database to swap identities with him."

Zane blinks with disbelief, and can't find the words for a reply.

Urugg gets up. "Think about it. First Landing is almost fully automated--every centimeter monitored, networked and controlled through a central computer. This kind of place would be a playground for a technical saboteur like Syte."

Kare takes the floor. "I say it's time for action. If there's one thing I know, it's how to break into Streel Corporation property. I've been doing that since I learned how to hold an electrodrive."

Kare pulls out one of the infopads so commonly used for Metrosphere propoganda and brings up the standard brochure map of First Landing. "What we need is a diversion. Like a city-wide emergency--something to create a state of chaos without brining attention to ourselves."

"Like what?" asks Urugg.

"Maybe if the computer spire thought the city was about to decompress, everyone would be escorted to safety shelters and we could lock them in. Or we could have the computer bug create some viruses."

Syzygy's antennae perk up inside his helmet. "Viruses?"

"There are a lot of possibilities there," continues Kare. "A virus to take over the city's holo projectors, a virus to trick the computer into thinking that the life support systems are unstable, or even a virus to disable any locks or security systems."

Syzygy pops open his helmet and rubs his lower mandibles, which already are curving into a cocky grin. "Hmm. . .I like your style, Kare. The spire in First Landing is the most complex machine I've ever had to deal with, but with what I've learned so far, my computer skills might be up to the task."

Urugg joins the thought train. "While we're on the subject of viruses, how about something biological? If we were in dire straits, we could cause the very disaster we had to avert earlier. If Zane still has samples, a mass outbreak of Laconian Red Eye would definitely distract any opposing forces in the First Landing colony--though it would limit our movements as well."

Zane grits his teeth. "That would definitely have to be a last resort. You dump the Red Eye virus on a colony packed with 200,000 inhabitants--they'll kill each other!"

Tork gingerly places his defused tornadium D-19 into his backpack. "If you ask me, I much prefer simpler approaches, like the four-four method. Four kilos of kaboomite on four different corners. Solves a lot of different problems."

T'Klkk raises her arms for silence. "Team-mates, you are basing your attack on unproven assumptions. If we are to rectify the situation, we must go to the heart of it--and verify what the situation really is. Perhaps we have misjudged our employer, and perhaps it is Spider who has misled us. Team-mate Zane, what were our employer's instructions when you last spoke with his hologram?"

"He wants us to return to First Landing," replies the Human medic.

"Hmph!" snorts Tork. "Either he's not onto us, or it's a trap."

"Or he is truly innocent," adds T'Klkk. "It is improbable, but we must know for sure before making any aggressive strike."

Tork raises his voice. "T'Klkk, with all due respect, you and I both understand the tactical situation here! If we walk right into our employer's hands and ask him what's going on, we've lost any leverage for retaliation."

"Precisely," agrees T'Klkk. "That is why our team is not going to return to converse with our employer. I shall fulfill that task alone.

"An all-out assault on First Landing is a hopeless, reckless strategy which would most certainly get all of us killed. Self-T'Klkk proposes that a single individual--self-T'Klkk--should go. Self-T'Klkk will meet directly with the person calling himself Streel and will confront him on all the questions and concerns that we have discussed amongst ourselves. We will also establish a regular check-in interval and a password scheme to verify that it is indeed self-T'Klkk reporting and that all is still okay. If self-T'Klkk does not report in or if the password is not the correct one, then the rest of you are to wage strategic strikes on key areas of First Landing and if possible present the truth to the masses in an attempt to sway popular opinion in our favour--inciting an uprising if necessary. We know that there are already those who are sympathetic to the plight of the Lost Pointers. They could be potentially powerful allies, and thanks to team-mate Tork and team-mate Urugg, we have contacts among them. Team-mate Kare has already proven herself to be a sixth-degree sabboteur, and team-mate Syzygy's computer skills will be most beneficial. Team-mate Taanik may be able to reprogram some of the First Landing robots to aid us as well, and it is very likely that we will need team-mate Zane's medical expertise. Team-mate Tork and new team-mate Kyran will work together to coordinate guerilla raids."

Addressing Syzygy, T'Klkk says, "As for the password and interval, for the first six hours self-T'Klkk will report every 30 minutes. After that, on an hourly basis. The password will be different each time." She then goes into a complicted formula involving the Vrusk calendar, names for social castes, and a complex 3-dimensional Vrusk game of strategy which, when combined, is hopelessly impossible for any but Syzygy to even follow much less decipher.

"Self-T'Klkk will keep the chronocom channel open so that you can monitor what is transpiring. Self-T'Klkk will also leave all equipment and ammo except my stunstick and pistol, just in case you need it." She also resolves to keep the knife which is strapped to her hind leg, but she doesn't mention it. "At no point is self-T'Klkk's safety to be used as a bargaining chip if self-T'Klkk is taken hostage. The success of this mission and the well-being of this team takes precedent over self-T'Klkk's life. Is that understood?"

"Unacceptable!" protests Urugg. "If we lose T'Klkk, it will cripple us both from a combat perspective and the fact that she's the closest thing we have to a leader. Also, her vrusk social comprehension may be vital in figuring out what's going on in First Landing if we get in."

"I don't like it either," says Kare. "With blob boy out, our numbers are already fewer. This isn't the time for us to be splitting up."

"Does anyone else disagree with the proposed plan?" asks T'Klkk with serene objectivity.

Tork, Syzygy and Zane reluctantly reply to answer.

T'Klkk turns back to Urugg and Kare. "Your concern is noted. . .and appreciated. Yet, as is often the case in Vrusk field chess, to gain strategic control of the field, it may be necessary to sacrifice one's queen."

[Surfaced Road, I17 on First Landing Ground Level]

Taanik oozes around Spider's broken body and consults the green glowing indicator on his oxygen tank. "Seven and a half hours left. We could last a little longer out here, but I'd rather not chance it. First Landing's sheltered airtubes would be quite welcome about now."

"Are we going back into the city?" asks Spider.

"We might as well," replies Taanik. "It's getting pretty cramped in this cargo hold, and I'd like to save as much of our oxygen as possible. We may need it later."

"You know he'll find us as soon as we enter the city," says Spider.

"Maybe. Then again, maybe not. I've been watching the mining robots that serve the southeast mining site. They're constantly following that road up ahead and are given free access to the refinery just north of here. It shouldn't attract too much attention if the robot we're inside slipped in with all the mining bots.

"Then once we're inside, I figure we can make a B-line for the nearest recreation area. I know a few places where the Ixiol junkies hang out. Our best bet would be to mix into the crowd and wait."

Taanik uses ids radio transmitter to guide ids two construction bots--one of which is hiding idslef and Spider--onto the road.

An audio call comes in on the radio communicator. "Team-mate Taanik. This is team-mate T'Klkk. What is your position and situation? Over."

"T'Klkk, we have blended ourselves into the flow of mining bots coming from the southeast mine. We are about to enter First Landing. Over."

"Does anything seem out of place or unusual?"

Taanik consults the sensors of the robot that is carrying him. "Well, the only thing that seems to have changed is that there are a lot more mining robots on this road then I've ever seen. About three times as many as there used to be! The industry in First Landing must really be picking up. Over."

"Be careful, team-mate Taanik. Self-T'Klkk is on the monorail car right now, planning to confront our employer directly. The others are planning a strike, in case it does not go well for me. Keep your radio communicator with you at all times. We may need you."

"Roger that," replies Taanik. "Over and out."

The wide doors of the ore processing plant's hatch yawn open, admitting Taanik's two robots and thirty or fourty mining robots. The door's close, followed by a hiss of pressurization, and the next set of door's opens.

"Well, Spider," says Taanik, "we're inside the city. I suggest we stay inside this robot until we can get to a recreation area. That. . .that's weird."

"What is?" demands Spider.

"I--I don't see any people here. The whole ore processing facility is run by robots."

"That's my family's business ethics," explains Spider. "Why pay a Human or Dralasite's salary when a cheap robot will do the job?"

Taanik's amorphous shoulders do their best to shrug in the cramped compartment. "Still, you'd expect to see at least a supervisor or something."

Taanik's robot passes through the processing plant, into the northbound airtube [N15 on First Landing Upper Level]. As usual, hundreds of robots are heading different directions to handle different tasks. But the entire moving walkway is almost as silent as the outside vacuum. It takes a moment for Taanik to realize what is missing.

"Where are the people? These walkways are usually packed. Where are the masses doing their shopping? Where are the couples out for a leisurely stroll? Where are the businessmen going to lunch? Where are the children out to play? I don't see anybody."

Spider is silent.

Taanik examines the view through the robot's sensors, as the robot continues to ride the strip north.

At last he sees a group of about sixty Humans, Vrusk, Yazirans and Dralasites. They are all wearing work uniforms, and they are all standing in one tight huddle on a perpenidicular walkstrip going west. A team of about ten security robots surrounds the crowd. There is not a single smile in the group. Quite to the contrary, every person there shares the same facial expression of gloom and fatigue.

On the way north, Taanik sees many other groups of people, each in a tight congregation policed by robots. In one group, a Human male wanders a few steps out of formation. One of the robots clutches the man's forearm, and the Human begins to shake convulsively. As the robot releases the man, he falls motionless to the ground. Neither the robots nor the other men and women make any move to pick the man up.

In but a short time, Taanik's robots turn east, descending on one of the large elevator platforms [O9 on map]. The nearest recreation area [M9 on underground level] is just a short distance away.

But the recreation area is deserted--empty and forgotten like a ghost town! Even the transients and the junkies have vanished.

Taanik's tone now carries much concern. "I thought we could blend in with the crowds, but. . .there are no crowds."

But then Taanik notices the arm and shoulder of a Vrusk up around the corner. "Wait, there's somebody."

Taanik's robot advances to the Vrusk, and Taanik gasps.

The Vrusk's compound eyes have been gouged out, and are swarming with insects. The mandibles have been blackened--one of them partially missing. The neck is so out of place that it must be broken, and the rest of the body is purple with bruises and brown with dried blood. One of the arms has been twisted right out of its joint.

"Uggh," says the Dralasite, turning away.

[Taanik INTUITION: 55%; Rolled: 55]

But Taanik forces idself to look again. "Wait, I know this man. This is Fle'xx Tredd. This is the guy we used to report to."

An epitaph on a plastic panel has been bolted to the dead man's chest: "THE FATE OF ALL WHO OPPOSE THE SUPREME LORD'S WILL."

[First Landing Monorail Station, I15 on First Landing Upper Level]

The hologram of First Landing's director is already waiting for T'Klkk as she steps out of the monorail car.

"I've been waiting for you," says the hologram.

"We need to talk," says T'Klkk.

The hologram looks over T'Klkk, noticing that she has left most of her equipment behind, but has still kept her automatic pistol and stunstick. The hologram sighs. "T'Klkk. You still don't trust me."

"Trust is irrelevant. Who did you send us to Lost Point to follow?"

"Dakka Syte," replies the hologram, lifting its chin with indifference.

"He claims to be Selson Streel, and further alleges that you are the one known as Dakka Syte. Is that true?"

The hologram lowers its head and looks T'Klkk in the eye. "Does it matter?"

One would almost think that T'Klkk--for the first time--was losing her patience. "What name should I use when referring to you?"

"Supreme Lord should do fine?"

T'Klkk tilts her head. "As in, 'Lord of Shadows?'"

The hologram chuckles slightly. "'Lord of Shadows.' How passé. My powers have grown so much since then. I assure you, I no longer have any need to hide in shadows."

T'Klkk stares at the hologram for a long moment. "What do you hope to gain here?"

"Hope to gain? Nothing." The hologram laughs. "I have everything."

"Which was your plan from the beginning."

"Absolutely. Where you see a budding outpost, I saw an opportunity. We're light years from anybody here, and to guarantee the outpost's safety, the engineers armed this place to the teeth. I could hold off a third of the UPF fleet with the cannons and missiles launchers built in this city."

"Forgive me, but I find your motives incomprehensible."

"You would. Your entire team would. You lack vision. You don't know what it's like to possess this power, to stand as the undisputed ruler of your own world!"

"The people won't let you get away with this."

"They already have. Did you know that the ratio of robots to people in this outpost is four to one? Why, most of the law enforcement team was robotic to begin with. And trust me, that ratio is rapidly growing as we speak. I have everthing here, resources, factories, and a centralized computer to control it all! Sure, there were a few who resisted at first, but they have been dealt with. The fools who remain will follow me like Inner Reach fur-sheep!"

The hologram sits back on a chair smugly. Syzygy was right, thinks T'Klkk, computer hackers are a boastful lot.

"Of course, you must be saying to yourself that the engineers who built this place took every precaution to keep somebody from doing exactly what I did," continues the hologram. "Yes, and they did a very impressive job. It took me five months as director of Metrosphere to get everything ready. Your companion, Syzygy, came very close to my plan when he found a number computer security protocols that had been anonymously modified. You see, when the software to run this world was being designed, it was saturated with almost countless safety measures, overrides and systems of checks and balances. All for one purpose: to keep a single individual from taking control of the whole system. Well, it took me a while, but I've managed to nullify every one of those counter measures. No one but me controls this city. No one can access those controls from outside my office terminal, and no one can contest my power! Every machine in on this moon, every computer terminal, every android, every system and sub-system, all obey my will and my will only, coordinating in perfect UNITY!"

"What was our role in all of this?"

"Ah, feeling important, are you? I'm sorry, but your team was little more than a diversion on top of a diversion. I brought Loer An-Tehr to this outpost personally, hoping she would gain the public's attention with her mindless protests and picket lines. The Red Eye outbreak, well, that was my doing as well. Even the raids from the poor souls of Lost Point were organized by me. Who do you think supplied them with their assualt armor and explosives?

"Bringing your team here was a final charade to amuse the masses while I finished my work. I hand-picked each of you. Urugg, with his past as an environmental protester, would escalate the situation with Loer An-Tehr. Kare, whose past career was that of an anti-Streel terrorist, would certainly go back to her old ways and disrupt the team, or bury it in controversy. Syzygy, bless his incompetent soul, has been branded by his own people as a failure and a society reject. Tork, with his refusal to accept authority on his homeworld, would be sure to make waves. Zane was little more than an adventurer-wanna-be with rich parents. Taanik's history shows that id's more interested in practical jokes than. . ." The hologram stops to consult something that is out of T'Klkk's view. "Where is your gelatinous friend? No matter. The blob will show up soon enough. At any rate, you were all chosen purposely for this assignment because I knew you would fail!"

"You won't get away with this!" warns T'Klkk.

"Why? Because your friends are on their way to stop me? Don't you think I watch everything you do? Look for yourself."

A wall panel glows to life, revealing a camera view within the monorail tunnel. Urugg, Tork, Kare, Zane and Syzygy are walking through the tunnel with weapons at the ready. Behind them are the nine Lost Point soldiers in their heavy armor. Tork double-checks his explosives, while Kare and Syzygy ask the armored men for advice about getting into the city and accessing the computer systems.

"I have no idea why they decided to walk instead of taking the train," says the hologram of Dakka Syte. "Maybe they thought I couldn't see them that way. They're still at least a half hour away by foot, but let's have some fun with them, shall we?"

Dakka Syte turns to his computer terminal. "Those are some impressive suits that I've equipped the Lost Point men with. They're basically a skeinsuit, pressure suit, holoscreen and strength-boosting exoskeleton all in one. Each contains a class one parabattery for longer lasting power. The blades extending from the wrists are a nice touch. In the industry these suits are called Streel Heavy Armor Defenense units, or SHADow units for short. But did you know that they're more than just armor. They're robots as well. The armor can move about with or without a sentient occupant inside." Dakka pauses before his dramatic finish. "And any robot on Metrosphere is a robot I can control!"

On the viewpanel, T'Klkk can see one of the armored men lunge forward, slashing Tork's pressure suit and knocking him to the ground.

"Hey!" shouts Tork.

The other armored men join in the battle as the first man's words are drowned in a flood of screams: "I--I can't stop it!"