Download - D. T. Hannah - Perfect

8/9/2019 D. T. Hannah - Perfect

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P E R F E C T

D. T. H A N N A H

D. T. Hannah, 1997


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Perfect

D. T. Hannah

Slowly the circular handle turned. Aged metal scraped against aged metal and yetno sound was made. Again it was tugged, and again, giving only slightly each time.Finally the handle turned enough and the seal snapped open. Numerous white jets ofescaping air whistled out for a few seconds but still no sound was made. The hatch waspushed out, pushed free of the cylindrical wall and then swung out. The rarely used hingesent vibrations through the hatch and a thickly gloved hand.

A white suit, designed to withstand close range solar winds climbed out from theairlock. Lit only from the reddish "hatch open" warning light, the suit turned and shut thehatch, ensuring the circular handle was fully tightened. Back inside the 'airlock ready'light would return to it's normal green and anyone walking past wouldn't notice anythingout of the ordinary.

Untethered, the suit was required to climb along the railings and hand-holdsplaced at conveniently regular intervals around the hull. The hand-holds took a spiral path

designed for the maximum of maintenance destinations for the minimum hand-holds. Thesuit stepped from total darkness into the brilliant light of the sun. The visor darkenedinstantly, and the internal environment system switched from heat to cooling. Eventhrough the specially designed visor, the highly reflective hull was a sea ofundifferentiable white. The suit reached out blindly for the next hold, and the next. Slowlybut directly, it made it's groping way to the seam.

A crevasse, three metres wide and running a length of seven kilometres, the lengthof where the container joined to the ship, approached like a black highway on a perfectlywhite atmosphere plane. The suit melted into the deep shadows. Climbing down in thecrevasse, past docking arms, emergency tethers and locking hooks, with the only lightcoming from a small green phosphorous tube on the suit's helmet, it made it's way to the

communications tether.From a shoulder holster an astronauts knife was drawn. Large, sharp and easily

manipulated by thick gloves, the blade sliced through the outer sheath of the com cable.Pulling away at the pliable liner, various wires were exposed. Separating a slender red lineand two multicoloured bundles, the rest were severed through. The suit pulled a carefullyprepared binding strip from a pocket and performed a hasty repair job on the outer sheath.

The suit clambered back into full daylight. Momentarily disoriented, it stoodstraight up... or was it hanging straight down? Hooked to the ship by it's feet. The sunhung above, almost close enough to touch. A ball of pure destruction, it bore no ill will,no maliciousness, no hunger, and no desires, it just was. It would destroy anything foolishenough to wander within it's grasp and nothing could destroy it. The entire solar systemwas heated just by it's presence and light would travel millions of light years in space andtime to herald it's presence.

The sun burned on, ignoring the lone figure's musings.The suit dropped back to crawling position and groped it's way back to the aged

hatch from whence it had come. It pulled at the handle with less force than was requiredbefore. Once again opened the hatch and clambered inside.

The shadows of a figure stepping out from a spacesuit played across the wallsmomentarily. The suit was hung on the wall and everything was back to the way it had layundisturbed for weeks.


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The master key was withdrawn from the entrance door and slipped into a deeppocket.

'Good morning.''Is it?''I think so.''I suppose you...''Shhhh.''Wha...?''Shhhh!'Nothing.'What?''I heard something....no wait, there it is again.''Yes, I heard too- Hello?''Hello?'

'Who's there?''It's very far away.''Can somebody help me?''Lets go see.'

Darian Farr followed Pulse Ndidjen down into a dark passage where a petiteyoung woman held a crumpled piece of paper in one hand and scratched her head with theother.

'Oh I'm terribly sorry.' She smiled warmly. 'I just seem to have gotten lost. I wasgiven directions but all of the terminals have gone down. I'm almost there,... I'm sure of it.'She wore a simple cut of robe that indicated that she lived in the poorer Lower Sole

region of the ship. Pulse thought for a moment allowing his synthetic eyes to take in moredetails of the pretty human. There was not much in way of destinations around here forsomeone to have "almost" arrived to. This was the service section of the garbage containerdue to be released, along with it's toxic cargo, into the sun in the next few weeks. All but afew terminals had been removed, the rest would be taken out in the last few days prior torelease. Everything else of value had been salvaged. Even the lights were on half power.

Pulse thought the most likely scenario was that the girl had become very lost, wasnowhere near her destination and the terminals had not gone down, but had just beendifficult to find.

'...And where were you headed?' Pulse asked with the friendliest tone he couldmuster.

'To...' she squinted at the crumpled paper. '...Beta....eight...level 56........Derta room.'Belette Fray looked at the two men before her. They were men as loosely as the

term got. One was an ape. His torso was huge and muscular while his head seemed quitesmall. He wore a constantly dumb expression. He also carried a briefcase. He looked herdown, she knew that she was fairly pretty but something in that look gave her the creeps.It was more than just him checking her out.

The other person was perfect, perfect face, perfect physique, perfectly intelligentas far as his conversation so far indicated, too perfect, in fact. The talkative "man" wore abadge on his grey overcoat that indicated among other things such as being a police


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detective, he was a robot, a synthetic humanoid that looks exactly like the real thing.'Hmmm,' Detective Robot Hmmmed. 'That does sound like you are in the right

place.' (He sounded surprised) 'Are you sure you got the directions right? Sol 1 is a largeship.'

Even robots treated people like idiots once in a while. 'Yes, I'm sure. Uh......'Belette was actually meeting someone discretely and she wasn't sure if the other partywanted police presence.

'Oh! I'm terribly sorry.' The detective misunderstood her pause. 'My name isDetective Pulse Ndidjen.' Belette knew the name although she hadn't met the personbefore. Detective Pulse Ndidjen was one of the most accomplished synthetics on Sol 1,acknowledged as one of the most intelligent and physically developed, he rose through theranks of the onboard police force, displaying levels of courage and quick thinkingconsidered uncharacteristic of a robot. He was outspoken in nearly every issue relevant torobotics, equal rights, equal laws, the end to the 'inhumane' execution methods given toconvicted robots and the allowance of robots as part of the Sol 1's official crew.

'Belette Fray.' She took his extended hand and shook. She had no title or rank oreven a small cause to add to her name, she was a simple personal assistant.

Detective Ndidjen looked to the silent man who had entered with him. 'And...while we're at introductions, you are?'

For a moment the huge man looked at Pulse stupidly. He then took the extendedhand. 'Darian Farr.'

'Detective Ndidjen.'

Custodian Samuel Brak stared at the doorway. Normally the walkway to thecontainer was closed to public access, now it was wide open. Loudly he swore. Someonecould have wandered in by mistake, with all of the terminals out they may not even know

where they were. Samuel should investigate. A ship as big as the Sol 1, with a crewapproaching ten thousand, not all crew members were in positions relating directly torunning the ship. As a matter of fact some would never leave the crew living sectors forthe duration of their tour. People got lost all of the time. It would be terrible for a fewpeople to wander into the container service tunnels shortly before it was released into thesun.

Samuel slipped the bi-scanner's hook out from over his belt. The scanner was ofcylindrical shape and heavy, mostly used as a device for detecting the presence of life, itcould also be used to fend off attackers. Samuel didn't think he would need to search forlost crew members nor fight any, but the scanner had a comfortable weight.

Samuel walked through the opening into the lesser lit corridor of the containercontrol complex. He put his bag down and fished in his pockets for the key. The key slidinto the hole and the door closed automatically. He did not want anyone else wandering inwhile he searched. As he walked down the corridor the hiss and thump of seals closingfollowed him. When the entrance to the container was shut, the linking corridor would beretracted from the Sol 1 docking bay. It would now take at least an hour to reopen thedoor. Damn safety precautions.

The container control complex was small and sparse, designed for one use only,and one final trip.

Orbiting the Moon for six months on average, containers served as the dumping


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ground for non-reusable and non-recyclable waste products created by the industrialcomplexes on and orbiting Earth's only natural satellite. Once filled, the container isblasted to escape velocity in the general direction of the Sun. In that respect the containerbecame a sort of unpowered ship, with the container control the bridge, although the smallcrew aboard would only be able to monitor their path and the state of the cargo. As therewere no engines.

Sol 1, the giant ship orbiting the Sun itself, collects the container at the end of it'svoyage and docks for a period of several months. The reusable equipment is stripped andSol 1 'slingshots' the container full of hazardous waste into the Sun. The waste isdestroyed safely, the restored beauty of Earth remains, the Moon's multi-billion C's heavyindustry continues unabated, and the crew of Sol 1 make great money simply from thechore of garbage disposal.

Perfect.Well not completely perfect. The security on the now stripped container had now

become so lax that stupid people wander in by mistake. Now it was up to people likeSamuel Brak to fix everything. He could be in here searching for hours.

Oh, well. Think of the overtime.

Belette walked along the silent hallway, lit only at intervals she walked in and outof deep shadows. She turned around, she was alone. Detective robot and the ape manDarian had offered to direct her to her destination, but where were they now? This part ofthe ship was warmer but she felt cold.

Pulse Ndidjen and Darian Farr rounded the corner, they wore concernedexpressions, Ndidjen had removed his grey overcoat and it lay folded over the briefcase,which he held under one arm. Belette realized that the overcoat was merely an affectationsince robot's were not really bothered by the cold.

'Are you sure that this is the right way?' Belette questioned the pair as theyapproached. 'I mean, don't the levels go up not down?'

Darian looked around. Pulse Ndidjen said: 'No, the system changes out in the farextremities of the ship, it's a design fault but really only an annoyance.'

'Oh,' Belette looked around. The room they were in was bare, fixtures had beenremoved from the walls, terminals, dispensers, even light partitions had been ripped out.Why?

Something was very odd.Detective Pulse Ndidjen put the briefcase on the ground but kept the coat folded

over one hand. 'We're very close...'.'Hello?'Darian Farr jumped at the sudden new voice.Without looking away from Belette, Ndidjen put on his coat and slipped a small

black wallet sized item back into an inner pocket. He looked tense.'Hello?' the stranger called again.'Hello!' Pulse Ndidjen replied.A hand-held light lit up the opening just before a new figure emerged. He was

dressed in maintenance uniform, the id badge said: "Container 17 Maintenance", he had asimple haircut, and looked to be about late fifties although he still had an athletic build, inone hand he held a large soft bag that clinked and in the other, a bi-scan, the light source.


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With a glance the newcomer surveyed them all, they must look a fairlymismatched group. 'Are you lost? Do you know you're in a restricted area?' He asked.

Pulse laughed. 'The only restricted place on Sol 1 for me is the bridge, and thissure isn't what I expected the bridge to...'

'You're noton Sol 1.' the maintenance man said.Pulse stopped short. '.....I'm sorry?''This isn't Sol 1, this is the control centre of the waste container....and it's

restricted.' He switched the bi-scanner off.'Well in that case we are completely lost.' the detective admitted expansively.The maintenance man smiled. 'I'll get you out, but I have to make sure that there

isn't anyone else on board here.'Can't you just tell us the way out?' Belette asked.'Ah no, the entrance is sealed for the time being, you'd need the codes to get out.'

He held up a thin cylindrical key. 'I won't be long. Stay here please.' He put his bag downnext to the detective's briefcase and started along the corridor. Sweeping the bi-scan alongeach wall.

Damn! Belette would miss her appointment for sure, and it was the one break she

was looking for. Her search could have been over. Why? she got lost. The great detectivedidn't seem to know where he was either, or perhaps he was here for the same reason shewas.

Phillipe Smith looked out through the window. A row of windows continuing onfor about two hundred metres, 100mm thick compound glass. Beyond lay mounds of greyto white dust. Flashing stickers on the window warned that the innocent looking dust washazardous and toxic, causing death. There was no reason to argue, the manufacturingcompanies that had created this by-product had probably paid millions to have it thrown

into the sun. Why, if this glass was to break, Phillipe would most likely be dead withinseconds. He reached up and tapped the glass, it looked like it would hold.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' Phillipe felt a light fall on the side of his face.The newcomer was a silhouette, masked by the light shining in Phillipe's eyes.

'It looks like it's strong enough.' Phillipe argued.The stranger approached. Phillipe saw that he was an oldish man in a maintenance

uniform, the identification badge gave the name Samuel Brak. 'I wouldn't put too muchtrust in anything as temporary as this. The company cuts corners like there's no tomorrow.'

'I guess there isn't a tomorrow for this stuff.' Phillipe noted.Maintenance man Brak looked at Phillipe. 'So you know where you are.''On the container ship. Yes.' Phillipe was wearing business casuals, he looked late

thirties or early forties, thinning hair. There was nothing noticeable about him.Brak shook his head. 'Do you know this is a restricted area?'Phillipe considered lying but knew better. 'Well... yes.' Brak looked fed up. 'Look, I

know the routine, this container won't be released for a whole week, there's nothing I cansteal, I just wanted to look at the cargo. See what's so dangerous that millions of C's arespent sending it here. WhatIam getting paid to help destroy.'

The maintenance man did not respond. He walked over to a nearby window. Rightin the corner of the window the glass had become slightly white as if someone hadbreathed on the surface on a cold day. Suddenly he spoke. 'This glass is designed to show


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any excessive stresses. If a crack were to develop here.' He indicated the white patch. 'Thewindow would break.'

'That would set off alarms, safety measures...' Phillipe said.'Yes,' Samuel Brak agreed. 'The crack would set off integrity alarms, escaping gas

would set off cabin pressure alarms, toxic contaminants would set off poison atmospherealarms.' He indicated sensors located in the ceiling directly above them. 'All of thesewould cause a general alert on the container. Sol 1 automatically responds by sealing thewhole place off and jettisoning as soon as possible.'

'I... I didn't know.''About what? the safety measures or the poor construction methods?' Samuel Brak

was angry but not at Phillipe entirely.'Ok. I'll leave right now.''Not yet, I have to find everyone else that has wandered in here, But first...' he

withdrew a small disk like object from his pocket, it had a flat surface on one side and acontrol panel on the other. Brak attached the disk to the glass where the "whiteness" wasgreatest and punched a few keys. A green light turned to a flashing red. Brak checked aradio receiver he carried with him. 'This device will tell me if the shear stress goes over

about five hundred Mega Pascal's which is about as far as you can take this kind ofcompound without cracking.'

'Oh... good.'

Samuel Brak attached more of the disk shaped objects to various 'weak points' inthe container wall. Some of the locations were fairly high up.

'Need any help?' Phillipe Smith inquired.Brak jumped down. 'It would be in your best interests if you left the important

work to the professionals. There is no point to "coming along to watch".'Phillipe conceded with a hands raised gesture.They continued along the viewing windows. Samuel Brak testing for weaknesses

and Phillipe Smith doing nothing.

The female Belette Fray and Darian Farr looked impatient to be off. DetectivePulse Ndidjen shifted uneasily, he had entered dismantling territory when the girl and themaintenance man showed up.

It was now up to a simple choice: continue the "lost" story or act. An imaginaryblade penetrated the back of his skull. He would have to be very careful. Hands reachedinside his head and pulled. There is a calculated amount of risk. Acid tipped onto thebrain. Phantom pains shooting across a destructing mechanism. There would be no actionfor now. The imaginary brain fizzed to nothingness.

Pulse shook himself out of the daydream/nightmare with a start that caught theattention of the other two. Just the thought of such an end sent waves of terror through hisentire body in a way he estimated to be similar to that of humans. For now he would donothing.

Damn! Belette knew that she had just about lost her chance to meet her unknownbenefactor, the person who was aiding her in her search. This was the general area inwhich they were supposed to meet, maybe one of the people the maintenance man rounds


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up is him, maybe one of the two standing before her is him. Belette regarded the musclebound man and the robot detective. Admittedly going on looks alone is a mistake but thelarge man didn't seem to have the brains to give Belette the assistance that she had alreadybeen offered, and the detective? Why would a policeman give her help? Why wouldanyone help her knowing anything about her? She shivered, she would do anything for amagstaa.

'Hey you guys, do any of you have a stick?' she asked hopefully.Detective Ndidjen frowned. 'Those things will kill you, you know.'Belette had heard it all before, she ignored the cop. Darian was feeling his pockets

but shook his head.Oh well, it was better this way. She couldn't be sure that the huge man would give

her a fair price.

The dim light held by Brak knifed the darkness.'Hey, is there anywhere around here I could get a drink? I'm dying of thirst.'

Phillipe Smith piped up as he and the maintenance man Brak walked down the passage.Brak looked about for a second. The hallway was like most of the control centre

for the container. Dark, Musty. All of the fixtures had been removed, leaving nothing butshadows on the walls and floors where they had once been. 'I haven't got a clue, sorry.The dispensers have probably all been taken out anyway.'

'Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it.' Phillipe wasn't as thirsty as he was eager to get offthe container. More and more it was beginning to have the look of a ghost ship. He didn'tbelieve in ghosts of course, but the white apparitions on the glass were enough to spookhim.

Voices ahead. The others.Almost gratefully Brak and Phillipe joined the lit room. Detective Pulse Ndidjen,

the small blonde Belette Fray and the well built man Darian Farr lounged about on thesoft flooring.

'That didn't take long,' Ndidjen wondered aloud. 'Did you search the entirecontainer?'

'Yeah. This is everyone.' Brak had gone over to the bag he had left next to thedetective's briefcase and was carefully putting the bi-scan away into a hard case. Brakshouldered the bag and straightened.

Everyone else was standing.'Oh, no, wait. We don't leave yet.' Brak told them. 'I have to reconnect the access

arm, it will take a good hour. You're better off to stay here.'Darian Farr groaned quietly, Belette flopped to the ground from where she had

half rose.'Sorry,' Brak managed to look sorry too. 'I'll be back soon.''I'll come along,' Detective Ndidjen suggested. 'If that's alright?''Yeah, sure.'

Pulse Ndidjen changed the briefcase between hands. Samuel Brak hefted his heavybag higher upon his shoulder.


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'So, this happen often?' Pulse struck up conversation to ward the silence away.'People getting lost in the container, I mean.'

'Not often, no.' The maintenance man said with barely a glance at the detective.'Usually the connecting corridor is locked and retracted whenever the stripping crew aren'tat work.'

'Aren't rarely used doors supposed to have an automated closing system afterabout an hour?' Detective Ndidjen asked.

'Yeah, yeah... but you know what they say: "Computers. They're dumber than...." 'Oh Shit! He caught himself too late, he never did much work around robots.

The detective was laughing. 'I know what you were going to say, I know, I know.Robots are generally pretty stupid. It's actually the greatest problem I have in mycampaign for equal rights.'

Samuel remembered. 'Oh, yeah I saw that debate you had with the chief onboardJustice and the Captain. They didn't like you very much.'

'It's expected, but I have to fight for what I believe in.''Hmmmm.' Brak had never fought for anything simply because he believed that it

was wrong.

'Although the equal rights are a part of it, the real reason I am campaigning is totry and stop dismantling, or at least have it controlled. It's a terribly inhumane practice.'The robot continued.

Brak was confused. 'I didn't even know there was any pain involved.' He didn'tactually think robots felt pain.

'Oh there is,' The detective assured him. 'The dismantling process is actuallydesigned to cause the most pain.' Ndidjen's voice had the tones of a well repeatedmonologue. 'It's done because of a widely held belief that robots have no concept of deathand only a simulated idea of pain...'

'Until now,Ididn't think you guys felt pain either.' Brak agreed.'Well, I've been shot five times in the line of duty and believe me, pain for a robot

is real.' He paused. 'I guess it's possible that my pain is only simulated, as in I only feelpain as a programmed response to damage being done to my body, but from where I amstanding, pain is pain.'

Samuel Brak couldn't argue with that.'And the matter of robots not understanding the concept of death is pure myth. I

know people and robots die and I understand what it means. I don't want to die. In fact, itscares me a great deal.'

'Yes but if you were killed in the line of duty there's a good chance you could berebuilt as you were before.' Brak noted.

'Yes, that's true, robots survival rate for accidents is better than humans and wecan theoretically live forever since we don't age. But I don't agree that we don'tunderstand the concept of death because of this. I actually think that we may be moreaware and concerned about death as a result. I could live forever, or I may be killedtomorrow. Forever is a long time to lose.'

Was the robot asserting that the life of a robot was worth more than the life of ahuman? Brak wondered. He decided not to comment.

'So you think that dismantling should be banned because their lives are worth atleast as much as a human?' Samuel Brak asked.

'Yes. Yes, I do.' Pulse said.'The death penalty does exist for humans too.' Brak recalled.


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'Yes and for those crimes I accept that robots should be killed. What I am lookingfor is equal rights and equal treatment in the law.' The detective asserted. 'A human is putto death after committing murder class one to three and high level crimes to class seven.A robot is dismantled if found guilty of all murder classes including nine, which is"accidental", and alltwenty seven high level crime classes.'

'What it means to me, personally,' Ndidjen continued. 'Is that if I shot someone inself defense or the defense of another, I would have to prove that it was in defense, or riskmy own destruction. It makes my job very difficult.'

Samuel Brak thought for a moment. 'I heard you were trying to get dismantlingbanned entirely.'

'Yes I am. There are much more humane ways to end the life of a robot. Like I saidbefore, dismantling as it is now is designed to cause the greatest pain. They don't just takethe robot into a dark laboratory, switch him off and destroy all traces of memories, no,even if that could be done it wouldn't be.'

This sounded a bit paranoid to Samuel, he knew that robots had been persecutedonce their fight for independence had started, but the death penalty method designed tocause the most pain? 'Why do you think that the process is specifically done to cause the

most pain for a robot who is about to die anyway?'Detective Ndidjen shot him a harsh look. He had struck a nerve. 'This method is

not done because there is just no other way to kill. I have done research and there arealready painless and humane ways to dismantle, they're inexpensive and could well beinitiated tomorrow with current equipment.'

'Yes, but...''No wait,' Ndidjen would not be interrupted. 'If you just hear how the killing is

done I think you would agree that it is needless. Imagine you are a convicted robot,anatomically we don't differ that much, all of the organs are in the same places, they'rejust made from different materials. You have been in a holding cell, for about sevenweeks, that's the average time from conviction to death.'

In substantially poorer living conditions to the human inmates, Samuel knew allabout that.

'You are taken to the execution room, it is a small round room with two waymirrors, so witnesses can watch but all you can see is yourself. You are placed in a chairand tied down. Your limbs are secured by inserting three shafts into the legs right to theskeleton- bone, I mean, and four into each arm. There are no pain inhibitors used at all inthe execution. These three millimetre thick spikes are also inserted into the sides of thehead. All of this is to "secure a strong and potentially dangerous robot from struggling andmaking the next phase less painful." '

Samuel was silent. Pulse took another breath.'Oh, as well as the mirrors in front of you there is a monitor in view so that you

can see what is happening at the back of your head. That is where the second phase takesplace. There is a small handheld disk cutter called a "Lacitirc". It emits a nightmarishwhine when it is on, by the way. They make a cut just below the base of the skull at thetop of the back of the neck. Then they cut right across the back of the skull fiftymillimetres higher and join the cuts to make a window about this big...' He indicated arectangle with his fingers. '..in the back of your head.'

'Now remember that you are completely conscious at this point and right to theend. They actually give you drugs to keep you awake.'

'Long probes are inserted through this window, they make cuts around the sides of


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the brain, fairly rough but most of the brain remains intact. Synthetic brains are designedto withstand greater punishment than human but this would be pushing the limits. Otherdevices are inserted, they actually bypass the spinal column and other sensory inputs withlong cables made from similar materials. This way they can remove the robots brain whilestill maintaining perfect connection with the body, your nerves, eyes and ears still tell youwhat destruction is being done.'

'The brain is forced out of the window, too small to allow passage withoutsubstantial damage being done, it is then immersed in synthetic blood to keep it alive. Thebrain in it's container is placed before the body so you can see your own brain.

'Phase three. Probes are inserted into the brain and experiments are done, the testsare such things as monitors of various pain stimuli, physical tests of the brain material,starvation of....'

'They perform experiments?' Brak interrupted.'Yes, the condemned are considered to have no rights, human included. I have seen

some of the results. They removed the brain from the synthetic blood for lengtheningperiods on one poor subject, each time starving it of life for longer and longer, measuringthe damage done. We now know that synthetic brains can go without blood for forty five

seconds with less than ten percent damage done to the organ. Now what use is thatinformation? Except for the creation of more pain for future robots?

'Phase Four. Dismantlement. Nearly all materials are recycled except for thenervous system which is considered defective. They make cuts along each of your limbsand peel your skin away. Now remember that you are still completely conscious. After thede-gloving your major organs are separated and packed away with the nervous system,eyes and ears last. You see, hear and feel yourself being dismantled.

'Phase Five. Death. The brain is removed from the synthetic blood and placed withthe rest of the nervous system, a weak acid is poured over the remains, gradually the acidadded is stronger until the defective brain is completely gone. Thankfully most nevermake it to this stage. If the brain is to die during say, stage four as is the most common, a

study is done to find out why. Most of the time the floating neuron paths have undergonemassive shifts, curling under the intense emotion into useless loops and consciousness hasbeen permanently lost. These are the lucky ones, the ones who die of fright.'

Maintenance man Samuel Brak's mouth was bone dry. He realized that they hadstopped walking. He was stunned.

'Now how do you feel about dismantlement?' Pulse asked. Brak looked at his face.This "process" obviously filled the robot's late nights with dread, even though it was clearthat describing the process to a human as if it being done to that human gave him somemeasure of pleasure or even payback of sorts. It still was the most horrendous true storyhe had ever been told.

'If what you say is true...' Brak said slowly. 'Then the people who do theseexecutions are not human. They're monsters.'

'Well not all of the executioners are humans, you know. Some robots are almost astwisted as humans are.' Pulse smiled and turned to continue up the hall.

Samuel watched the figure disappear into the darkness. It was hard to imaginehow one would cope with the threat of that kind of death all of the time, and yet here wassomeone who not only coped, but fought back.

Brak had no doubt that a person like that could singlehandedly change society, ifhis enemies did not kill him first.

Brak had no cause like that. He worked for money to stay alive and it had always


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been a good way to live, to stay alive.

Belette Fray sneaked a look at the ape man Darian Farr. He was staring at her. Notwith the occasional sneaky glances in her direction he had used ever since first meetingher, but with a direct malicious stare. She looked at the newcomer, Mr Smith, abusinessman. Mr Smith appeared to be trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Could hesee the look on the ape's face?

Oh, what was she thinking? ever since the 19th Square murders had happenedevery man had seemed a potential rapist and murderer. It was not simply that he was stillat large, or that the ships media had repeatedly splashed the uncensored horror repeatedlyfor months. It was Caliele Baker. Belette's boss, mentor and best friend had been one ofthe victims.

On her way home from work, to the same district that Belette herself lived, Calielewas attacked, beaten and taken to a small 19th Square house. Beaten again, rapedrepeatedly, kept in a small dank cellar that had at one stage housed up to five kidnapped

women at a time. Caliele's time had been spent alone as no bodies had turned up at thewaste depository around the same time. Belette had waited for her friend to return safelywith dissipating hope; She listened to the news of the discovered body numbly; She hadwept as the one she had once shared her deepest secrets with, was consigned to the flamesat the funeral; And she woke screaming at night for weeks after the onboard police haddiscovered the 19th Square house but failed to catch the man that had committed theseunspeakable crimes.

No. She had to keep calm. This man before her was just an ordinary guy, but large,must work out, or have a physically demanding job. There's no way this could be thefeared rapist, he looked too stupid to evade the police for so long. She had to keep hermind on the task. If only she had met her appointment the risk would be worth it. Now

what had she gotten herself into?Belette's heart began to beat faster, she could sense a dangerous intent from

Darian Farr. Maybe he wasn't the murderer, he could be just as dangerous. Would thestranger Mr Smith come to her aid?He was still watching her.

Mr Smith made an uncomfortable face and shifted his weight. Very slowly hestood and walked a bit, stretching his legs. Darian was still watching her. Smith wouldn'tjust leave would he? couldn't he sense what was about to take place? or was it that heknew all too well? Could he be such a coward that he would leave a small woman alone toavoid any potential confrontation with a man larger than himself?

Phillipe Smith stiffly walked towards the door as if going for a walk. No, Damnit,No. Don't leave me here alone. He was walking out the door. She looked to Farr, he wasstill watching her, shifting his weight as if to rise. Smith was leaving.

'You shouldn't leave yet mister,' Belette spoke with a slightly quivering voice. 'Theothers should be backvery soon.'

Smith looked at her. His face was expressionless. 'I'm just going to stretch mylegs.' He left the room.

Belette was standing now. The huge man still watched her. He could see her fear.Quickly she looked around. The situation: If Farr was to try and even come near her shewould run. There were two entrances to the room, but both at one end, and she was at theother. She looked around for something she could use as a weapon, the dim lighting only


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increased the sense of sparseness. There was nothing.Belette took a deep breath. She was beginning to breathe faster and deeper, her

heart rate increasing. Suddenly she realized what was happening. She was not going to getattacked. She was having a relapse. She was letting the fear get a hold of her again. Afterthe death of Caliele she had had terrible, paralyzing attacks of fear, she couldn't move oreven breathe, fading in and out of consciousness. A mixture of dislocated reality anddreams where she was being repeatedly raped and beaten. Gradually the incidence of herattacks had declined, she had hoped that there would be no more but the huge man staringat her like that had triggered it again. Since those experiences, she had promised herselfthat such a thing could never happen again...

Belette realized she was moving forward although she hadn't asked her legs tomove her. There was an odd tingling on her back. She was moving forward but her legshad failed to stay under her. She was collapsing. The wall was too close. She put herhands up but too slowly, the wall smashed against the side of her head, snapping her neckback and rolling her over. This seizure would be a bad one. She imagined huge handspulling her over. Her head spun. The dream hands ran down her side, touching her breast.A great weight settled on top of her, she imagined the attacker lying on her. A heavy stale

breath blew into her face, she smelled sticks. She had never smelled in her seizure dreamsbefore....

She wasn't dreaming. She realized this wasn't a dream, it was different.She was really being attacked. How had he found her? How did he know about

her? No, wait. It wasn't the 19th Square murderer. It was the ape man Farr. He had comeat her from behind and pushed her to the ground. Now he was on top of her and was aboutto do the very thing she had cowered from in the corner of her room. The imaginarydemons were gone, replaced by real ones.

Farr began to pull at her clothes. Somewhere, deep down in a very far away placea dormant promise stirred. The promise was that this would never happen again, not toanyone, by anyone.

Summoning all the strength she had left, Belette brought her knee up, aiming forwhere the attacker's crotch should be. The action brought her head up and at the sametime as she kneed him in the balls, their heads collided. Both impacts scored true andDarian Farr threw back reeling. The oppressive weight on her chest was gone and shetried to rise but he was still pinning her legs. Everything was blurry. Nevertheless shereached out to the face in front of her, trying to claw at anything, everything. All sheneeded was for him to retreat enough to get off her legs.

The fist came out of nowhere. Hitting Belette in the side of the face with the forceof a tanker. Her head was thrown to the side and collided with the wall again. She fell flat.She could not move. Dribbles of blood raced down the side of her face.

The main outer door for the container control complex was a lot like any normaldoor, heavy, automated, never open when you need it. The entrance was crowded withboxes and crates of salvaged material that had not yet been moved out. Pulse Ndidjen sathimself down on one of the smaller crates and began to inventory the contents of his newbriefcase. Samuel Brak walked over to the control panel of the connecting passage andrequested the startup protocol. Pulse looked over the rows of cards before him, bunchedinto neat little stacks. Brak put his bag down next to the heavy door as the computer


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displayed 'Please Wait'. About one hundred million Terra-Dec's of storage space wascontained within those cards. Pulse fingered the neat bunches. The connection protocolwas complete, Brak heard a dull hiss. The exterior motors were heating up. DetectiveNdidjen pulled a Code Verifier from his pocket and selected a card at random. Freed itfrom it's bundle and inserted it into the device. The dull hiss died away and a deep whineincreased as the giant motors began to rotate. The Code Verifier ran over the cardscontents, each card held up to a million Terra-Dec's each, and each card was full to thebrim. A slight shudder beneath Samuel Brak's feet as the entire entrance room adjusted it'sposition to line up with the approaching connecting passage. The display panel beneathPulse's fingers said 'Checking'. Every code on the card was being checked, one hundredTerra-Dec's per C meant that each C carried over a hundred million million combinationsof codes. The control panel indicated that the connection passage had begun it's slowapproach. Only one in a million of the possible combinations was real currency,checkable by a small handheld Code Verifier made the C the safest, most unduplicablecurrency in the known universe. The connection passage control computer made a quickcalculation and displayed 'Door Unlockable in 1587 seconds' The number began to countdown, Brak smiled. Ndidjen frowned, the Code Verifier displayed: 'Legal Currency 0% (0

C); Corrupted Codes: 100% (10,000 C)'.Samuel Brak requested a systems check. He didn't want to come back only to find

some hydraulic fault had stopped the process halfway through. While the testing cogitatedhe heard a muffled expletive from the detective. The detective was pulling cards from hisbriefcase and jamming them into some sort of testing device. Every ten seconds he hissedangrily, threw the card to the floor and slammed another one in. The systems testreturned: 'No Problems Detected.'

'Detective, we can start heading back... now... if...' Brak trailed off. Ndidjen's headsnapped up, his face was manic, his eyes white hot. Brak's spine tingled. 'We.. we can goback... and... and wait with the others.'

Pulse Ndidjen's face suddenly cleared, he blinked as if waking from a dream. 'Oh,

yes, yes of course. Good idea.' He smiled and nodded. 'Ok.' It was decided. He snapped thebriefcase shut with the testing device inside, scooped most of the cards up from the floorand walked quickly back to where the others waited. Soon he was lost in the dark hallway.

Samuel Brak walked over to where the detective was sitting. A card lay missed onthe floor. It was a Money 23 card, the most popular storage device used on Sol 1 forkeeping C codes. The entire front face had turned green, meaning for a card this size itshould contain about 10,000 C's. People don't just throw full cards around willy-nilly andrun off. The card must contain corrupt or forged codes, but if it did, how did the detectiveknow? Was the device some sort of hand-held code checker? What was the detectivedoing with such a device? And for that matter, all that money?

Phillipe Smith stretched his legs by walking up and down the dark corridor. Bioniclegs always needed stretching. It was a nasty accident in his youth due to his ownstupidity. He had grown up among the Industrial cities orbiting the Moon, there was noshortage of large machinery lying around and his fondest memories as a child had beenclimbing over the ancient mining exo-skeletons. As a teen his interest evolved to stilloperating machines, he had even run errands for his father in their family power scooter.With the encouragement of friends he helped steal a space junket and took a joy ride in


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the "deep black". It was almost too stupid. The crane came from out of nowhere. It was amiracle the junket cockpit didn't leak after the impact, the flexible lining held even withenough deformation to crush Phillipe's legs. When the rescue crew finally freed him, hewas half dead. His legs were long past salvage.

Phillipe didn't like to talk about it, few actually knew about his legs, they were lesssturdy, design modifications to work with human blood rather than robot had yieldedweaker limbs that cramped a lot and needed stretching. His colleagues thought he had asmall bladder...

Phillipe heard a muffled thud back in the room where the large man and the smallblonde waited. He heard no voices but the detective robot and the maintenance man mighthave returned. Phillipe Smith turned and began to head back, he made better pace thancoming out as most of the circulation had returned to his legs.

The main room was better lit than the outside, but in those circles of brightness,no-one stood. Had they gone without him? Phillipe's eye caught movement in the darkestcorner of the room. The large man Darian Farr was kneeling, no, he was sitting on top ofthe blonde Belette. The woman made a sudden movement, bringing her knee into hisgroin but almost as quickly he retaliated by hitting her full in the face. She went down

unmoving.'Hey!' Phillipe shouted without thinking and strode over.Farr began to pull at the blonde's shirt. Phillipe grabbed the large man on the

shoulder. Farr turned at the touch and swung his fist in the same movement. Their armshit. Phillipe's extended hand was belted away. Suddenly he realized who he was upagainst: a well built powerful man who in all likelihood had plenty of fighting experience.Phillipe backed off, he had never been in a real fight before. Darian Farr stood up fromthe tiny girl like figure. He raised his hands in a fighter's stance that looked quite naturalto him.

Phillipe Smith did not have to win this fight, he just had to keep the attacker awayfrom the woman until the others arrived, which should be soon. Better be. He raised his

hands.Darian lunged at Phillipe. Phillipe didn't jump back quick enough, a powerful fist

smashed through his guarding hands and glanced off his cheekbone. Phillipe jumped backfaster, Farr did not seem to be following with any haste. Phillipe felt his cheek, it felt likeskin had been ripped off but there was no blood. He would have to learn to duck andweave faster. This was not a good time to learn.

Darian Farr jumped at Phillipe again with a jab that succeeded in clearing theblocking hands and followed with a straight punch to the face. Phillipe tried to duck andthe fist collided with his forehead just above his right eye. The impact caused Phillipe tolose his footing momentarily and he dropped to the ground. Panic bells rang through hishead for he knew his opponent was still coming. Without fully getting to his feet, Phillipescrambled away. He turned and straightened to find Farr still coming at him with fearfulforce. The tiring businessman tried to throw a punch but Farr ignored the blow withoutblocking and went for the torso. Phillipe felt the other slam into his chest and half pickhim up, they smashed into the wall behind. Phillipe felt all the wind being knocked out.

They dropped to the ground and Phillipe tried to escape the other's bear hug butthe other wouldn't let go. Phillipe began to punch Farr in the face, again and again. Dariantried to ignore the blows but soon he let go. Phillipe used the opportunity to get out fromunder the other man's great weight. He wriggled free, keeping the rain of blows on theother constant.


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Phillipe was free for a second. Darian grabbed his ankle and hauled him back.Phillipe pulled back trying to wriggle free again, ahead lay the girl. Was she dead? No, shemoved. Darian twisted Phillipe's leg with all the force he could. Phillipe yelled, the painwasn't as intense as it would be for a real leg but it still hurt. Darian tried to bend the kneebackwards, to cause the greatest pain.

Oh well, It was only a bionic leg. Phillipe thought. Suddenly he forced his leg backin the opposite direction to which he was straining. The knee snapped with a pop andcrunch. Pain momentarily lanced Smith. Darian, not expecting the knee to break as easilyas it did, dropped his grip. Phillipe twisted around on his good leg and thrust his spreadfingers at the surprised assailant. One finger hit Farr's eye, and the bigger man reeledback. Phillipe jumped on and punched rapidly again. He felt like a small child attackingan adult. Darian Farr reached up somehow and grabbed at Phillipe's arm, pulling him tothe ground. Phillipe tried to pull free again but the other held tight. Darian wrapped hisarm around the other's and bent the elbow backwards. Phillipe screamed. This was not abionic arm.

Darian Farr had Phillipe in a hold that was inescapable, at least for someone withhis skills. With horror, Phillipe realized he could not move, and Farr had one hand free.

A fist smashed into Phillipe's face, throwing his head to the side. A second blowand Phillipe's vision blurred. A third and he felt blood flow down his face. Farr releasedthe smaller man who fell back, unwilling or unable to move. Farr stood. The otherattempted to move but could not lift his head off the floor. Darian Farr kicked PhillipeSmith in the ribs. He lifted his foot and prepared to bring it down on Phillipe's head...

Darian Farr was knocked to the ground as the artificially fit Detective PulseNdidjen burst into the room and drove his full weight into the large man. Phillipe Smithwas left sprawling on the ground. Farr rolled out from under this more skilled fighting

adversary. Pulse reached behind to the holster on his lower back but found nothing.Darian lunged, this person would not stop him from getting the beautiful girl either. Pulsegrabbed Farr's arms as he attacked, rolling backwards. Darian Farr found himself rollingover the top and slammed to the ground onto his back. Before he could react Pulse was ontop of him and had him pinned.

Pulse whispered through gritted teeth. 'They're counterfeit you bastard.''Bull-Shit!' Darian hissed back.Pulse Reached into his front inner breast pocket and found his gun, not where he

usually put it. He pulled it out and planted it into the ape man's face.'You are under arrest, for assault and attempted rape and whatever else the

security cameras show.' Detective knew this arrest was coming for a long time, it wouldbe difficult to distance himself. But maybe... Things may have already gotten out of handanyway. 'You will be escorted to the Brig where you will be held pending your trial. Anyevidence relating to your case is admissible. You have no rights.'

Darian just looked down the barrel of the gun.'Due to the violent nature of your crime, I deem it necessary to use electro-

clamping devices.' Pulse holstered the gun and reached for another device hanging fromthe back of his belt.

At the mention of the electro-clamp Darian Farr started struggling again, not withthe calculating power of an experienced fighter, but the desperate thrashes of one who


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feels his life in extreme danger. Detective Pulse Ndidjen did not release the hold, nor didhe pull out the gun again, he simply tightened the hold around the larger man's neck. Farrstruggled for a while, it was a good effort, but all it did was wear him out. His arm hadbeen expertly paced across his own neck and was being forced down by the cop, he couldbreathe, just, but blood flow to his head was being cut. Waves of dizziness becamestronger with every passing second. He was going to lose.

Darian stopped struggling. Pulse maintained his hold on the weakened man andreached for the electro-clamp. The clamp was a stainless steel collar with three electrodesover the spine. The collar clicked shut over Farr's neck and switched on immediately.

Farr shuddered as the device took hold. He could not move. He could not feelanything. The electro-clamp immobilizes all of the muscles in the body, it also creates anumbness all over the body below the neck and the lower half of the head. To keep theperson being held alive, the clamp monitors and regulates the breathing and heartbeat anda few other essential actions immobilized by the steel collar. Still it was not a good idea tokeep anyone on for more than six hours.

Pulse Ndidjen stood up. Phillipe Smith was trying to sit upright, his leg wastwisted backwards. Belette Fray was awake also, she looked stunned or in shock or

something, her clothes had been pulled at but not torn off and she feebly tried to pull itback to straightness, a gash on her forehead bled freely but she didn't seem to notice.

Pulse searched the immobilized man for weapons, but as he suspected there werenone. The detection methods on board were too sophisticated for a small time crook likehim.

The detective walked over to the small assault victim. She stared blankly almost.Pulse knelt down beside her. He ripped a strip of his shirt and pressed it to her head.

'Are you alright?' It was about as stupid as questions get but he could not think ofanything better to say. He had always left dealing with the victims to his humancolleagues, the complexities of the human brain and human behaviour were well beyondthe grasp of his much more logical thought processes.

She suddenly realized that he was there. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Did I have one of myattacks again?'

'It's Ok. now, Farr can't touch you now.' Pulse assured her, wondering what her lastremark meant.

'Farr.' She said vaguely.Pulse had encountered rape victims before. This was not the usual behaviour. Was

there something neurologically wrong with her or had the collision with the wall given herconcussion? Maybe this was just a normal human reaction beyond the comprehension of alogical robot.

Pulse ripped more of his shirt away and wrapped a bandage around the makeshiftcompress, it would suffice for a while. For now he had more important fish to fry.

Belette tried to shrug off the mental cobwebs that were gathering once again. Sheremembered now, she hadn't had a seizure again, it was a real attack, from Farr. Belettehad not put up much of a fight but it had somehow been averted. Someone had saved her,one of the others perhaps, yet something still remained to be done. Something to do withthe past.


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The burly police officers at the station had not expected her to force her way pastso easily, it was almost as if her grief had given her some sort of enhanced strength. Theship's morgue carried the coldness of death as much as any larger city morgue. A man inan orderly uniform tried to stop her at the door but she pushed past as if he was not there.He fell to the ground. Seven or eight men in various uniforms from doctors to police stoodaround a steel table. They all turned as one to the commotion at the door. She walked tothe table. They all tried to stop her but she fought her way through. She had to see.

On the table was a humanoid form, covered from the waist down by a green sheet.Naked elsewhere. The visible skin was white, there was very little of this, however.Bruises, deep cuts, welts, blood everywhere. The cluster of men where all speaking atonce. A foreign language. some still persisted in trying to hold her back but she feltnothing. Caliele Baker it was.

Belette's best friend had died in the most brutal way. She looked like she had beenkilled with a hundred different implements. Huge dents lay over her body. Bones broken.Fingers bent backwards or missing. Strips of skin gone. Deep gorges cut between the ribs.Gaping holes where her breasts should have been. And the face.

Belette had envied Caliele's beautiful face. The face was almost completely gone.

Hair was tangled and stringy in blood. Her nose was cut off. Her eyes were gapingsockets. Cheek flesh had been cut away revealing a skeletal smile...

The men pulled her away, dragged her to the ground. It was too late, she had seeneverything. She passed out.

Belette gasped. The panic was beginning to set in again. She fought it back. Therewas something she had still to do.

The mission.After today it would be one step closer to completion.

Pulse dragged the immobile Darian Farr into the hallway by the arm. The briefcase lay there forgotten. He checked his watch, Brak said the door should beopenable in about half an hour, that should give plenty of time to make a business deal.

Pulse knew the effect of the electro-clamp, while the muscles would not respondand there was a general sort of numbness below the neck, the wearer could still hear andsee things that were placed in his field of vision.

Detective Ndidjen dropped Farr heavily against the wall, roughly propping him up.He walked over to the briefcase and held it in sight.

Farr made no response.'We're in a difficult situation, Darian.' Pulse began. 'I don't believe for a second

that all of these people were simply "just lost".'Pulse Ndidjen sat down on the briefcase full of corrupted C's.'You knew that I would have to put you away eventually. You're just too Damn

stupid to stick to one activity. Hard drugs are still lucrative, that's all you need to stayafloat, our simple two man operation. I bring the supplies through customs and youdistribute. So here we are, we make the trade, and all of these people walk in. Why is thatDarian?'

Farr didn't move a muscle.'I didn't think you were so stupid as to cut your own throat by tipping the police as


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to our endeavors, so I waited you out because when the cops arrived I could pin it to youany way I wanted with no-one ever knowing I was carrying the money.' Ndidjen took abreath. 'But accusing me of carrying counterfeitmoney. That was clever. you could avoidthe searches altogether while I could not.'

Pulse reached into the briefcase. 'Know how the police can check for corrupted C'son a bust?' He pulled out the code checker. 'Now the device is handheld. I know all aboutyour plan. It would have worked too, luckily for me that maintenance man Brak locked allof the cops out.' Pulse chuckled.

Detective Ndidjen put the code checker away. 'Well, you've lost. Now you're goingto jail. It's really up to you to decide what happens. Maybe you want to spend a fewmedium security years on an assault charge, resist arrest, little things. Or then again youmight choose a lifetime of accumulated charges at Earth's Bridgewater Maximum securityprison, hard labour under full gravity. You're not the only underworld contact I have. Icould make your stay there a living Hell, you would be killed inside eventually.' Pulsebrought his face right up to Farr's. 'You can get that second option by breathing a word toanyone about my part in any criminal operation. And if I should ever get into any sort oftrouble over what you say, well I'll make sure you survive for most of your stay at

Bridgewater. You'll wish you had been killed real early.''And it is in my power to send you there or not.' the detective assured the silent

man. 'I can get you on a hundred or so different crimes, I have all the evidence needed toput you away on every one.'

'But I guess you knew that, or suspected at least. I can understand you trying to getme before I get you and that's why I'm willing to strike this deal.' Pulse sat back. 'Oh, no,no, don't try to thank me for my generosity now. I'll know your answer when the boysquestion you.' He put his finger to the side of his nose and tapped. 'I'll be watching.'

Pulse reached inside the man's overcoat and retrieved a small package. The drugs.'If you don't mind, I'll still put this to good use...'

'Um...Excuse me.'

Pulse whirled at the sound of a new voice.Out of the shadows walked a teenage boy. Youthfully handsome. He looked lost

too. 'Have you seen a girl, long dark brown hair, my age, around here? Her name's JuliaLockheed.'

Pulse stood up, allowing the badge on his chest to be visible. Hadn't Themaintenance guy Samuel Brak said he searched the container for all people?

And where was Samuel Brak?

"Door Unlockable in 37 seconds."Samuel Brak checked that he had everything. He opened the bag he had carried all

along. It was now nearly empty as most of the space had been taken up by the disc likeobjects he had attached to the weak points of the window. Brak checked the receiverhanging on his belt, none read any major problems.

A small flexible parabolic dish nestled up against the side of the bag, it connectedto a new machine, not yet out on the black market yet. This machine would change theway money was stored in the known universe. Using the dish, this machine emitted a very powerful magnetic signal, powerful enough to affect computers and storage devicesplaced close enough with accuracy. The machine would take over the computer and make


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it do whatever was required. This is not a new technology, the new technology is theability to read what ever is stored on the computer or storage device, this included Ccodes.

When Brak placed his bag next to Detective Ndidjen's briefcase, it automaticallystarted downloading the million codes, and when that was complete, corrupted theoriginals. All without ever touching the bag. Ndidjen couldn't know how the codes hadbeen stolen. If he hadn't have brought that code checker he still wouldn't know. Heprobably thought Farr had given him counterfeit money. Brak laughed.

"Door Unlockable in 10 seconds."Well, it was time to be leaving. Brak picked up the bag with the device and one

million stolen C's. He fished into his pocket for the cylindrical key. Apart from a fewminute deviations everything was going to plan. Perfect.

"Docking Complete."Samuel Brak inserted the key."Incorrect Key. Door Locked.""Please insert correct key."

Belette Fray opened her eyes. She took a deep breath. she had some troublebreathing but it would not stop her.

She stood up, shaky. She could walk. The room was still bare, Mr Smith satuselessly on the floor. Her vision focused. The door.

Belette began to walk, with gaining confidence and speed she walked out to wherethe detective had dragged Farr.

Phillipe Smith watched her impassively.Belette walked out to the hallway. Farr lay unmoving, in the clutches of the

electro-clamp. Detective Ndidjen was in half shadows questioning a teenager Belette had

not seen before.Belette walked past her attacker. She walked up to the detective and grabbed his

arm.'Miss Fray...' He began as she spun him around.Belette reached for his holstered gun. He had fast reflexes and he grabbed her

hand. She swatted his arm aside and punched him in the face. The blow was true and hereeled. She took advantage of his lapse and grabbed the weapon. It was heavy.

Belette Fray would bring her mission one step closer to completion.Belette aimed the weapon at the immobile Farr. She was in his field of vision but

he could make no movement to stop her or even avoid the shot. She released the safety.Belette squeezed the trigger. The gun jerked, and a crack hammered her ears.

Darian Farr's knee exploded in blood. She had aimed poorly.Belette steadied the gun with her other hand and pulled another round off. This

one caught him low in the chest. He jerked explosively but like a rag doll. Belette tookaim again, this shot caught him in the face, the wall behind his head instantly spatteredblood.

Detective Ndidjen grabbed her and wrestled the weapon away and forced her tothe ground. It was too late, she had done it. Farr was dead.


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Phillipe Smith twisted at the sound of someone entering the room. 'There you are,I wondered if you had left me here without getting my share.'

Samuel Brak strode over to where he sat. 'You should have stayed away. I told youto leave it to me. You would have got your share.'

'Samuel my dear friend,' Phillipe smiled. 'You talk in the past tense.''It was you, wasn't it? You cut the communications and the manual control. I

thought it had already been stripped down but the equipment was all there.' Brak snarled.'I don't know what you are talking about...''Don't Lie!' Brak yelled. 'I know how you must have done it, you went outside-''What?''You went outside and you cut the cables, and then you changed the door codes.'

Brak finished.Phillipe smiled. 'You tried to leave didn't you?'Brak said nothing.'You did, you bastard.' Phillipe became angry. He wished he was not in such a

useless condition. He would have hit Brak.

'No, wait,''You were going to leave and get all of the loot. Ibuilt that machine remember.

Without me you wouldn't be anything...' Phillipe said defiantly.Suddenly Brak grabbed Smith's shirt and pushed him to the ground. 'Where is the

master key.' He whispered through clenched teeth.'I had to compress the C codes.' Phillipe knew he was on shaky grounds with this

character. 'There is a password on the encryption. Without the password,' Phillipe tappedhis head. '..you get nothing.'

Samuel Brak cursed and released Phillipe. He strode out the room.Phillipe Smith knew he had done a wise thing by encrypting the stolen C codes. He

just wish he knew why Samuel wanted a "Master Key".

Suddenly the room was filled with the sound of gunfire.

Detective Pulse Ndidjen held the blonde woman down. All of the fight hadsuddenly drained out of her, the incredible speed and strength she had used to get thedetective's gun was gone. That incredible strength! There was no way a small femalecould generate that much power. Pulse had arrested much larger women, so full ofadrenax that they felt no pain, and they didn't have half the strength that Ms. Fray hadshown.

The teenager who had earlier introduced himself as Mark Reddick watched thescene stunned. The maintenance man Samuel Brak ran in after hearing the gunshots. Thewounded Smith would not be too far behind. Holding Fray down, Pulse fished into hispockets for a set of keys. He threw the keys to the maintenance man. 'Brak, get the electro-clamp.'

Brak looked at the faceless body for a second, slumped down the wall. With anunusual calmness around such a monstrous cadaver, he pulled the head to the side,unlocked the collar and wiped it and his hands on a clean section of Farr's shirt. Brakthrew the electro-clamp to Ndidjen, who was fairly impressed with the simplemaintenance man's coolness. He must see how dangerous this girl can be.


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Pulse placed the electro-clamp around Fray's small neck and it started up. Pulserelaxed, allowing the female to drop to the ground.

'What is going on?' He asked no-one in particular.'Who is this?' Samuel Brak asked, indicating the teen.'Ah, yes.' Pulse Ndidjen remembered. 'This is Mark Reddick. Apparently your bi-

scanner is broken, because you missed an entire human being.' He didn't really trust in MrBrak's ability as a lost person locating maintenance man any more.

Brak pulled the scanner from his belt and checked it's readouts. 'Where were youson?'

Mark Reddick was staring at the dead Farr and the motionless Fray. His headsnapped up as if struck. 'What? Um, I mean, just now?'

'Ooh, about half an hour ago,''I, I'm not really sure, down there somewhere?' He indicated a long dark passage.Brak frowned at the bi-scanner readout.'Um,' Mark continued. 'I'm looking for a girl, seventeen, long dark hair...'Samuel Brak held his head as if to ward off a migraine. 'What are you doing here?'Mark stopped. 'What do you mean?'

'This is a restricted area.' Ndidjen spoke for the maintenance man who wasobviously having real problems trying to figure out how so many people had wanderedonto the container. Maybe Pulse would tell him it was Darian Farr's doing. Later. Hespoke to the teen. 'Are you lost or did you come in here intentionally to meet this girl?'

'Julia said she wanted to meet me around here.' Mark seemed quite definite.'She your girlfriend?' Pulse put on his grandfatherly tone.Mark smiled. 'Yeah.' Then his face fell. 'Sir...' He was looking over Pulse's

shoulder.Pulse Ndidjen turned around. Belette Fray was standing up. She swung at the

detective's face, he nearly ducked enough. The fist glanced off his cheekbone. Heretreated.

What was going on?Belette was still wearing the electro-clamp. A tiny red light indicated that it was

fully functioning and switched on. Yet she had full control of her muscles. How?Belette ran for the detective. She punched but he blocked it, absorbing the great

strength she had. Again she struck with more rapid blows, each as unwaveringly powerfulas the last. Pulse timed a block and counterstrike, hitting her full in the face. It shouldhave downed any man but she hardly flinched.

Belette hit continually, Pulse returned the hits with equal power and yet none ofhis even seemed to hurt her.

An arm wrapped around Belette Fray's neck. Brak. He pulled her off the detectiveand flung her around. She attacked him with equal force but he fended her off andbackhanded her, this time she went reeling. Blood spilled out from the woman's nose.Before she could rise, Pulse Ndidjen, Samuel Brak and Mark Reddick pinned her down.She struggled viciously.

Pulse felt the dark red of synthetic blood drip down from a gash in his cheek. 'Howcan she fight like this?' He gasped. 'With the clamp on?'

'Because she's a robot.' Brak hissed.Pulse looked at the girl's face, She was! She had fooled even his trained eye. She

was perfect, even the eyelashes and the iris patterns were perfect, (usually a deadgiveaway). This was one expensive robot. No wonder his attempts to fight her had failed,


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he had a built in behaviour modifier that prevented him from doing harm to a human thatcould prove to be fatal. The greatest of his attacks would be love taps to a robot. Ndidjeninwardly cursed his stupidity.

'She can't be a robot.' Mark exclaimed. 'She's crazy.''It's a very well kept secret.' Detective Ndidjen reached for a small box in an inner

pocket of his overcoat. He pulled off the overcoat, folded it up and handed it to Brak. 'Butrobots have been known to have massive logic failure under intense emotional pressure.'

'Like her getting attacked?' Mark asked.'Um, No,' Pulse decided. 'It would have been something much worse than that.

This may have been the proverbial straw though.' Belette continued to struggle.Pulse opened the box, within was an interface cable. One end clicked into his own

communications port and the other, was a special plug for accessing the spinal bus of anuncooperative robot.

Seeing the new device, Brak said. 'Is there any equipment you don'thave?'Pulse ignored that. He pushed the sharp spiky plug into the skin on her lower back.

The hooks pushed right in and the "plug" fastened itself to the spine with a wet click.Somehow that noise always made Pulse feel a bit squeamish.

Belette Fray stopped moving straight away.'This device has a similar effect on a robot that the electro-clamp has on a human.'

Ndidjen explained. Only a few well trained individuals could break from it's hold.'You can talk to her through that?' Mark Reddick asked.'Sort of. It's more intimate. She can't lie.' Pulse pulled his sleeve up, his end of the

cable was a pad that fit over his forearm, contacts were hidden just below the skin. He satdown and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately Ndidjen swore. 'This woman's mind is shattered.''You can still talk to her?''I'll try. First I'm going to access her product plate.' He paused. 'TYG2478683-

475v; Janine\Belette\Betty\Larna Fray; This model: commenced operations 2:8:2307;

revised 1:10:2307; revised 3:12:2307; revised 30:2:2308;...'Mark said to Brak: 'Sound awfully close together.'Hearing that, Pulse broke the record readout. '-It's normal in the first few months

of operation- ... revised 2:4:2308; revised 15:7:2308; revised 18:6:2310; revised 3:12:2321;next revision scheduled: 23:3:2332...'

'Three months ago.' Brak noted.'...Assigned to Citizen Caliele Baker for secretary and personal aid duties- There's

more stuff that's just technical data....' He appeared to be skimming through that. '....gradeAAB cosmetics.....Hmmmmm, very quick logic processor.....enhanced fighting chassis,Shit.... for a simple secretary she is very expensive. Either this Caliele Baker is richenough to get the best model or she somehow needed some sort of bodyguard.'

'A bodyguard in disguise.' Samuel Brak noted.'I'll try to access the long term banks. try to find out what caused the widespread

damage to the brain.' Pulse decided.Quiet for a few minutes as Detective Ndidjen searched the fragmented memories.

Brak found he was sitting forward tensely. He forced himself to sit back and regarded theyouth Mark Reddick suspiciously.

'So, do you always meet on the container?' He asked. 'You and your girlfriend, Imean.'

Mark was surprised by the sudden change in subject. 'Uh, no, no. We never have


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before.''Have you ever been on the container before?''Er, yeah. When it first arrived and they were doing all of those tours, I had a look

through.' Mark paused. 'There was a lot more stuff in here, I remember that.''What made you want to come here?''I don't know, more privacy I guess.''You don't know?' Brak asked.'It's Julia's idea, she wrote to me asking to meet.' Mark pulled out a sheet of one-

use paper. Expensive. Brak couldn't see what was hand-written on it but he could see itwas personal stationary. Not easy to duplicate.

'She became very close to her assignee.' Pulse broke off their conversation.'Extremely close actually. Real friendship bonds here.'

Brak looked at the detective. He was still sitting hooked up to the girl robot, stockstill with his eyes closed. He seemed enthralled, as if the entering another's mind was afascinating journey through another life. It suddenly occurred to Brak how invasive theprocedure of entering another's mind for the purpose of questioning was. Belette Fray'sdeepest emotions were exposed for Pulse Ndidjen to see. Was this really necessary?

Would this finding out why she had snapped help her? or them?Brak frowned. Although Detective Ndidjen's face showed concentration, but

something else, his mouth curled up at the edges and his head bobbed up and downoccasionally. He was really enjoying this line of investigation. Oh well, Samuel Brakthought, Ndidjen himself had said it: "some robots are as twisted as humans."

'Ok, this is where it starts, or ends really.' Pulse said aloud. 'Her memory's fineuntil around ten o'clock on the first of February, this year. She sits at home, organizingsome business data, Renskaa on the audio, and then it stops short. From then on, there's ajumble.. something about a mission, more like a hunt....she's weeping, hiding in her room,wedging the door closed...screaming....she's having attacks, bad.'

'Her memory just cuts off?' Brak asked confused. 'She's fine, sitting at home, and

suddenly she goes mad? I thought you said there had to be a traumatic event or somethinglike that.'

'Sometimes robotic insanity can reach back and damage memories that havenothing to do with the event, but that's very rare. Usually a chain of events that cause thetraumatic event start at one time, the event happens and madness occurs and thenmemories dating back to what is logically the starting point. There was this robot,assigned to bodyguard duty, failed to check a ducting correctly and an assassin killed hisduty. The robot's memory was useless from the moment he didn't check the duct fully, notfrom when he went mad three weeks later.'

'You see this a lot?' Mark asked.'I get all the major robot cases.' Ndidjen said solemnly.Suddenly Brak realized the task Detective Ndidjen accepted by carrying around

that "intrusive" cable. He would have to pick his way through shattered mind aftershattered mind, trying to piece together the truth from shattered memories. He didn't jauntthrough interesting minds like a tourist, he reluctantly retraced the doomed path of all thescum of the robotic world.

...And more often than not, his findings would mean the death penalty for therobot he was investigating. A death penalty usually undeserved, probably resulting froman accident or tiny mistake. A poor reward for a lifetime of faithful service. Ndidjenwould have to see the good side of the robot too, the good deeds, the companionship.


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No wonder Pulse Ndidjen was the most outspoken robot, or otherwise, on thematter of the death penalty and fair treatment.

Brak realized that Belette Fray was doomed to die as Ndidjen had described theprocess of dismantlement earlier.

'It's something to do with the death of Caliele Baker..' Ndidjen continued. '...I cansee her body, mutilated...although her duties never included bodyguard, I believe that wasone of the tasks she was intended for, as a sort of hidden bodyguard, maybe even hiddenfrom the person she was supposed to protect.'

'Say if Caliele Baker was one of those people who refused to work with robots, butneeded protection,' The teen guessed. '...and she had a rich friend who hired her an aidwho looked too perfect to be a robot...'

'That's right,' Ndidjen agreed. 'If this Caliele Baker was to die, grievously and Fraywas supposed to protect her, that could trigger insanity.'

'What happens when a robot goes insane?' Mark asked.'Different things. It's hard to tell, even looking at the memories.' Pulse sighed,

'Some think they confuse lies and truths, Belette may have even come to believe that shewas human. Some say that there are random panic attacks where the robot relives the

"moment of truth". It could be both, or neither. We can only go from witness accounts...'There was a few seconds of silence.Pulse wrenched the contact pad from his forearm. 'This is getting us nowhere.' He

checked his watch. 'You said the docking arm took an hour to rejoin with the container,that means there's fifteen minutes left. Should we start heading over to the entrance?'

'Yeah, Oh No, wait!' Samuel Brak remembered. 'I think I should have another lookaround.' He indicated the teen. 'Julia, I think her name is, may be wandering around heretoo.'

Mark nodded. 'Yes, good idea.''Detective Ndidjen looked around, The robot girl, still clamped by the interface

cable, the dead Farr, 'I guess I better watch these people, although there may not be much

better conversation.'Brak laughed and switched his bi-scanner on and turned to go. Then he

remembered something. 'Detective, were any of Belette's very recent memoriesfunctioning?'

Pulse tried to remember, most of his investigation was focussed on the memoriesof her descent into madness as he didn't like to pry into too much of someone's privatethoughts. He had made a cursory glance at the state of her memories in order to find thedamaged areas. 'Most of it was intact, why?'

'Do you know what she was doing just before she arrived onto the container?' Brakasked.

'Oh, I see, she came here because someone left her a note saying they hadinformation about the Nineteenth Square Murderer.' He clicked his fingers. 'That musthave been who she was "hunting" for. She's out for revenge.'

'Yes but did she do anything justbefore coming onto the container? Like, I don'tknow, fiddling with some of the machinery, cutting cables?'

Pulse Ndidjen frowned. 'I'm not sure what you mean. She was in a hurry to gethere because she took a few wrong turns and was late for the meeting, and she camestraight. What do you mean by "cutting cables"?'

'Oh there was some vandalism just outside, It's nothing, I just thought that if shedid it that was my last chance to find out.' Brak smiled coldly.


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Samuel Brak seemed like a very suspicious person to Pulse, why would he ask thatkind of question? Belette Fray was disturbed, but not in the vandalistic way. He smiled. 'Amaintenance worker's job is never done, Eh?'

'Right.' Brak and the teen continued down the hall, the light of the scan seeming tobecome brighter as the overhead lights became fewer and fewer.

Detective Ndidjen sat with the two figures, one dead, and the other roboticallyclamped. It was very quiet and all that kept Pulse company were his own naggingthoughts.

He hadn't seen any vandalism when he came in.

Brak fell into a familiar routine once again. He swept the empty halls with thebluish light.

'Julia!' Mark Reddick called out. Only echoes replied.Is there a good chance that she couldn't make it?' Brak asked, beginning to wonder

if she was actually nearby. The bi-scanner showed nothing.

'It's possible.' The young man conceded. 'Her father doesn't like me very much andif he found out about the message he may have tried to stop her.'

'How could he find out about the contents of a private message?' Brak asked.'He has ways. Trust me.'Ah, the paranoia of teenagers, sometimes the only way to get them to behave.The pair found nothing in the stripped living quarters, they found themselves

walking down a long enclosed catwalk. Large windows showing the piles of Sol 1'spayload on each side. Mark spotted the disks stuck to the windows.

'What are they?' He asked.'Stress sensors.' Brak answered. 'If they show to much pressure in the window

compound, we have to get out of here.'

'But isn't the way blocked until the docking arm is in place?''Yes.''Is the glass breaking likely?''Yes.'Mark shut-up.At the end of the catwalk they came to a circular room, it was covered with

monitors and consoles.'Is this a control room or something?' mark asked.'It's the bridge.'Mark looked about. There were windows on all sides but they were out to the

cargo hold. No windows showed outer space. 'But we're right in the centre of thecontainer, aren't bridges supposed to be at the front or top?'

'The container has no propulsion, the bridge is only for monitoring the state of thecargo.' Samuel Brak explained. He had walked over to one of the screens, it looked like astandard public communication terminal, only with more buttons.

'Will they strip this place too?''Yes, right at the end.' Brak accessed the terminal. The wait lady came on screen.

The wait lady as children and most adults referred to her as, was a generated directoryassistance AI. She was an attractive lady with out of date hair who normally came onscreen to say that the call was being processed and please wait. This time a different


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message was played. An apology was made to Brak saying that the necessary lines wereunavailable and would not be for a while. 'Which means something in between isdamaged and the software can't fix the problem without human or robot support.' Braksaid quietly. Mark wasn't sure if it was to him or just thoughts spoken out loud.

Mark wondered why the lines were out, but it didn't really concern him. Brak wasrunning a diagnostics, he seemed very concerned. As the maintenance man, it wasprobably his problem and he didn't seem to be having the best of days. The sooner off thiscrate the better. Mark decided that Julia had been detained by her father, with all of thesepeople wandering around she would have been found. Actually as Brak had locked thedoor on arrival, she might have not made it in. Hopefully, was she was waiting outsideright now.

Good. Mark Reddick was glad, if she had walked in, and they had met up, shewould have seen that man, confined in electro-clamps, unable to defend himself, shotdead by the crazy robot. Mark couldn't get the vision of that knee and chest and headexploding. Over and over the scene replayed itself, if he stopped looking for Julia or doinganything his thoughts would drift back to that event. He was glad that Julia was not thereto witness it for herself. It wasn't that he felt she was less likely to cope, being a female,

she was actually quite smart and sure of herself, he had no doubt that she would cope aswell as he. That was the problem, he wasn't really coping. He felt physically sick and hewouldn't wish the experience on anyone else, male or female.

'Shit.' Brak said aloud. Obviously the diagnostics hadn't turned up good results.'We should get moving. Look, I think your girlfriend may not have come in before me, soshe would most likely be waiting outside or have gone home.' He glanced around at thecargo. ' Anyway, I don't think she's here, the scanner turned up nothing.' He turned and leftthe bridge.

Mark peeked at the terminal report as he left, there was a lot of meaningless dataon the screen, right at the bottom read: "Test Sequence Complete. Break not on containerhardware. Refer Sol 1 hardware and/or dock umbilical."

They walked back along the catwalk with increased pace.

Detective Pulse Ndidjen surveyed the wreckage that was once Farr. There wouldbe a mountain of paperwork to be filed, court hearings, fingers pointed. That would be theworst of it, the accusations. The anti robotic community, Pulse's natural arch enemies,would somehow from the sketchy information they come across conclude that Pulsehimself had pulled the trigger. Or at least he had provoked the event. Many would screamout against having robots on the onboard police force, it was as predictable as the earth'sorbit. But as long as the evidence shows Pulse's innocence, the force would defend him,character references would come forward, even cops opposed to his being there wouldkeep down. The force stuck together.

The robot community would not be as supportive. A small sector of the moreopinionated robots who thought that working for the onboard police was selling out to thehumans. Pulse held these people in contempt, he had done more for the robot communitythan anyone else, despite his part in condemning the occasional killer, and his secretsideline into drug smuggling, he damn well should be a hero. Oh well, he was to most,especially to those in his neighborhood, the robot sector Square 34. Anyone who was onthe News regularly was a hero down there. It was all in his battle with the Captain and


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Chief Onboard Justice Quell for robot rights.Detective Ndidjen would be on the News again, very soon. There would be a short

report on these unfortunate events, but that would be eclipsed by a much more importantstory. Pulse had used the contacts he had made working for the onboard police to build upa contingent of "friends", all who were influential and high ranking robots. He hadsecretly organized a ship-wide union of robots. Ninety-six percent of all robots on the Sol1 were members, all willing to put their jobs on the line to further the cause of robotrights.

In eight days, Detective Ndidjen would take part in yet another debate with theCaptain and the Chief Onboard Justice, token talks that Pulse considered only to beconducted to keep people such as himself happy. Nothing significant had ever beenaccomplished before.

Now something would.On live feed to the masses, most of whom would be completely unsuspecting,

Ndidjen would announce the strike, instantly every robot in the union would stop work,leaving only a skeleton crew to man life support. In minutes, the entire ship would shutdown, entertainment facilities, cleaning services, food prep and supply, sewerage plants

and waste disposal, non life threatening medical systems, defense support, the onboardpolice vehicles, nothing would escape the strike. Sol 1 would be thrust into the dark ages,back to the days of humans clinging to life on delicate tin cans in the ocean of space.

The humans would finally come to realize their absolute power was gone forever,they would finally know how much they depended on robots. Robots were equal, and nowthey would force the humans to accept that fact.

The crippled Sol 1 would drift along it's orbit, unable to release it's cargo untilNdidjen's dispute reaches an unconditional conclusion. Clients would hesitate to use thesuspect disposal system; stocks would drop; millions of C's would be lost daily.

The captain would probably lose his position. It was about time.Pulse found himself grinning. He was days away from the biggest yet most

secretive political coup held off of Earth, and it was he and he alone that would instigateit.

But first, some less important business to attend to. The proving of his innocence.Soon, with the new laws in place, Pulse wouldn't have to take such precautions regardingevidence, he would be able to solve crimes and catch the bad guys. He could defendhimself without fear of getting the death penalty, and disturbed robots like Belette wouldreceive a less excruciating end, perhaps she may be confined to care where her conditioncould be properly studied and prevented in others. Belette Fray may be the first robotsaved under Ndidjen's laws.

Ndidjen's Laws had a nice ring to it.Pulse pulled up a paperwork program and began wr

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