Chapter 14

[Reality Check - Saturday Feb. 7 2010, 1308 hours, Bay 5B] 

Thallin looked around the room, checking each box mentally as he set his gaze upon it. The entire contents of his laboratory had been packed and was ready for removal, the only things still requiring attention being the items in bay 5B. Now, if only he had somewhere to move to, his problems would be solved. Thallin had been looking for a couple of days now, trying to fit a place that would match his needs, but all without success. Sighing deeply, he stepped outside the lab and secured the door behind him. 

Walking down the corridor, Thallin started ticking items off his to-do list. The repairs to the main gun were right on schedule and proceeding without problems. The section working on developing an all-encompassing version of the Pin-Point Barrier system was currently screaming for more resources. Weapons was also asking for more allocations for their 'Armoured Battloid' project. Thallin was not sure what priority to assign to this last one... To him, it seemed that the greatest asset of the Valkyries were their speed and manoeuvrability, as well as the versatility given them by the mechamorphosys circuitry. The Armoured Battloid project was looking at adding several tonnes of armour to a Battloid, fifty or sixty missiles, and a few self-propelled grenades. This would effectively restrict the Valkyrie wearing it to Battloid configuration. Not only that, but the whole thing was so heavy they were even designing an extra jet backpack to aid the Battloid to move. Thallin shook his head. <They're turning the Valkyries into Destroids. It's just not going to work.>The lift well area was crowded with pilots, all of whom suddenly found it more satisfying to press closer together, thus leaving Thallin quite a bit of standing room. Thallin no longer even realised the shuffle his presence engendered, it had become second nature to him by now. He even welcomed it at time. Around him, pilot conversation continued. 

"...NightHawks got their asses whipped at Saturn. It's a wonder any made it out alive..." 

"...special commendation. I tell you what - I'd swap it right now for a glimpse of Ol' Mother Earth..." 

"...not a decent place to have a drink. I spent the whole night looking for a bar..." 

"...most of the restaurants aren't licensed. What are we supposed to do on our off time, sip milk?..." 

"...only place around here is a disco on Lavarre Avenue. Only problem is you can't hear yourself think - or see anything..." 

"...you still smoking? I'm telling you, these things'll kill you..." 

It took several seconds to Thallin to realised he had heard the solution to his problem. When he did, he just stood there, still stunned by the beauty and simplicity of it. 

"Sir? Sir? The lift is here sir. Did you want to get on?" 

Thallin realised that someone was trying to talk to him. He shook his head slightly. "No, I've just realised that I have some more work that needs to be done before I go on lunch. I'll catch the next one." 

The entire lift-load of pilot tried to hide their relief long enough for the doors to close. Thallin could not blame them. He only wished they had no reasons to fear him so. 

The comm-vid panel flashed its 'Please wait...' signal for a few seconds as it established the requested channel. The screen went black, then lit up as the call was answered. "Tamara Sam'di's residence. Can I help you?" 

Thallin took a quick look at the blue-haired young woman, mentally took a step back and closed his eyes. "I hate to appear the prude, but would you please put something on?" 

"Whoops!" came the"reply. "Sorry, I forgot. Just a sec." Thallin could hear her scramble for covering. "OK, you can open your eyes now." 

Thallin did and realised that the clothes she had put on were nothing more than a bedsheet thrown over her, toga-style. <Whatever makes 'em happy.> "Thallin Braywater to speak to Tamara Sam'di please." 

"Hang on, she's in the shower." The woman turned away from the screen and said something the microphone did not quite pick up. The conversation went on for a moment before she turned back to the screen. "She'll be here in a moment." 

A few seconds later, a dripping-wet Tamara appeared on the screen and took the young woman's place. "Lieutenant Braywater... What's the occasion?" 

"Good..." Thallin suddenly realised he was not quite certain what time it was. "Good whatever, Sergeant. I have a bit of requisitioning for you to do, if you have the time." 

"Certainly." Tamara reached off screen and brought back a small tape recorder. "Shoot." 

Thallin started reading the list he had prepared in advanced, making certain he was pronouncing each item properly to ensure there would be no problems later on. Tamara simply listened and nodded every so often. In time, Thallin had completed his reading. 

"Jeez," Tamara finally said, "what are you going to do with all that, open a club?" 

"Yes. Just exactly that. Add one more item to the list, a street sign made to the name 'Black Pegasus', with the silhouette of a black, winged horse outlined in gold." 

"Got it." Tamara turned off the tape recorder and leant back on the chair, the towel she was using as covering slipping open. She did not seem to realise, or care. "Say, have you decided where you were going to have this joint yet?" 

Thallin winced at that. "No. Whatever it is, it's got to have at least two floor, the one at street level has got to have a large area at the front. I'd prefer it in town, near the barracks, but you can't have everything." He sighed. "In fact, so far I got nothing." 

"I tell you what," Tamara said, all the while writing something down. "Why don't you go have a look at this address? The entry code is at the bottom." She held up the piece of paper to the screen long enough for Thallin to copy the address and the door code down. "If you like it, you come back and talk to me and we'll see if we can't wrangle you a lease for the premises. OK?" Tamara winked and broke off contact. No sooner had the screen died that it flared into life again. 

"Lieutenant Braywater," announced a pleasant voice, "Doctor Lang would like to have a meeting with you as soon as is convenient. Thank you." 

The screen died. 

Lang was not happy. "...not only that, but you are well behind in your repairs to the VX-001! I realise that I have allowed you to take it out on trials, but I did not expect you to be stupid enough to take it into combat! What are you, out of your mind?" 

Thallin was sitting in Lang's office, bearing the brunt of this assault as well as could be expected. He had known that Lang would have eventually found out about his little excursion at Saturn, but he definitely was not prepared for what followed next. 

Lang turned around and placed a sheaf of paper in front of Thallin, pointing at it. "And what the hell is all this?" 

Thallin looked down and scanned the pages. "Requisition requests, sir." 

"Did you make them?" Lang asked angrily. 

"Yes sir, I did." 

"I am not stupid, Thallin. I can read rec-sheets as well as anyone, put two and two together. And I don't like what I'm getting. Now why did you order these parts?" 

"..." 

"There is only one thing that can be built using all of the components, and that's an Artificial Intelligence construct. Did you, or did you not create such a construct using these parts?" 

"Yes sir, I did." Thallin was trying to keep his face straight, to keep the worry from creeping into his features. 

"Damnit, man - do you know what you've done? AIs have been declared illegal ever since the Tifaro incident in 1997. And you do this in time of war! You could be court-martialled and shot if the military ever found out about it!" 

"But sir, Eve -" 

"Eve is a special case." countered Lang. "Only those of us in Higher Research know that Bahamoud Level 7 access hides an alien Artificial Intelligence. Why do you think we swore you to secrecy about it when you joined? Did you think we were a club of some sort, with secret handshakes? No-one in the military knows about the true potential of the Tokimatsuri Eve protocols. And I plan on keeping it that way!" Lang walked back to his desk and sat down. "I want this construct on my desk, dismantled, by the end of the week - is that understood?" 

"But sir I -" 

"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" 

"...yes sir..." 

176 Redwood Boulevard was located just on the edge of the shopping district and only a few minutes from the SDF's internal barracks. Thallin was walking the back alleys, trying to escape the din of the crowds on the main streets, thinking about the ultimatum Lang had presented him with. To top it all off, Izabelle had left for the day, leaving him only with a message saying she was going to try to resolve the Vanessa Leeds problem. Thallin winced when he thought of what Izabelle might consider a resolution to the problem. 

Thallin pulled out his pocket recorder and started speaking into it, trying to get his thought straight. It sometimes helped him to simply drone on into the microphone until he hit a solution, then keep the tape in case he forgot the details before he could implement it. He started by recording details of his conversation with Lang, then continued. "It is obvious that Lang will not be fooled by any attempt to trick him. He is smart enough to realise at a glance if the items I bring him are part of an AI construct, or just garbage. On the other hand, I can't dismantle the construct. I know it is technically not alive, but then again, technically neither is Eve, and no-one in Research would pull the plug on Bahamoud, no matter the cost. I..." 

A shadow stepped in front of Thallin's path. Looking up, Thallin realised it was attached to a burly youth with a couple of contusions about the face. Behind him were two more, obviously looking for trouble. Thallin had been so engrossed in his problem, he had not heard them approach him. 

The youth in front took a step forward. "Hey, man. Are you with the NightHawks?" 

Thallin puzzled for a second over the question before answering. "No..." 

"Good." The youth swung his fist around and hit Thallin in the jaw. 

When Thallin came back to, the first thing he was aware of was the dull throbbing of pain in his jaw and his head. The second was a wet, slithering noise all around him. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes. 

The alley was still there, but much of it had changed. Several holes were now apparent in the walls, which were now redone in a colour which may have been described by an interior decorator as "sanguine with shades of brain." Thallin simply called it repulsive. The bodies of the three youths were masses of flesh, pulverised beyond recognition. 

Thallin stumbled to his feet, his mind not properly focusing on reality, and noticed his hand-recorder lying next to one of the walls. He bent over to pick it up and noticed that his arms were covered in blood. The shock, and the slickness of the blood, caused him to drop the recorder. It hit the ground and started rewinding. Thallin looked at himself and realised he was covered in blood and gore. He could only hope that most of it was not his. 

Bending over, he picked up the recorder again and fumbled with numb fingers in an attempt to stop it rewinding. His hands shook and hit the play button instead. 

"'..ealise at a glance if the items I bring him are part of an AI construct, or just garbage. On the other hand, I can't dismantle the construct. I know it is technically not alive, but then again, technically neither is Eve, and no-one in Research would pull the plug on Bahamoud, no matter the cost. I...'" 

Thallin started making his way down the alley to the crowded streets, wondering if he was going to make it before passing out again. 

"'Hey, man. Are you with the NightHawks?' 'No...' 'Good.'" A dull thud, laughter, another dull thud. Another voice. "'Lookit that. We got ourselves a hero. The man wants to die.'" 

The end of the alleyway was so close, so close, Thallin could almost smell the rubber of passing cars. 

"'Just kill him and get it over with, I got a car to steal if I want a ride for my girl tonight.'" Another voice, almost recognisable, but deeper than those of the youths, gruffer, confused. "'Jhiri domillanyar del deng.' '<laugh>The man speak gibberish.' 'Hey man, did you escape from the asylum?' 'Delyarkam devlandaka?' 'Just stick him. Stick him' 'Deng-yar!'" A sickening crunch. "'Jeezus, Frank! Did you see what he did to Frank?' 'You're dead, man. Dead!'" 

Thallin continued to walk, zombie-like to the entrance of the alley. All the while, sounds of bones breaking and flesh being ripped asunder came from the tiny recorder's speaker, mixed with the screams of people in agony. Eventually the screaming ceased just as Thallin stumbled out of the alley onto the sidewalk. Someone gasped. "Thallin?!" 

He looked around, tried to focus on who had just spoken. "Eh? Oh... Hello, Kay..." He stumbled and fell to the pavement, his recorder still playing. 

"'Jhirite T'sen! Jhiri micron!' <silence> '...oh boy...'" 

Forward to Chapter 15.
Back to Chapter 13. 

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