The dark room was silent save for the steady whir of the cooling fans of the computer equipment. Here, surrounded by all manner of consoles, analog readouts, routers and RF transponders, sat a solitary figure. The man sat, staring intently while data scrolled furiously on a nearby screen.

The sound of an index finger tapping disgustedly upon the desk joined the one-note technological symphony, soon followed by a long forced exhalation as the man blew out his cheeks in frustration.

Running one hand through his ruffled blonde hair, the man sat hunched over the console with his face in the other. His long thin fingers formed the place his face rested often lately. Now and again, before bed, he would consider himself in the mirror, surprised his face had not changed its contour to match that of his palm.

But tonight bed was a long time away. Taking his eyes away from the screen as the data continued to scroll at breakneck speed, he glanced over dejectedly at the pile of paperwork next to it. Affidavits, vouchers, releases, claims…all these things his superiors used to track him, to limit him, to monitor him. How many times had they reminded him they didn't want past fiascoes repeated on this project? How many times had he argued for more freedom, only to have his past failures thrown back in his face? How many times had he come so close to his goal, only to have it all louse up at the end?

This was different. This was his big break. This was where he would show them all how capable he was, and demonstrate to all the members of the Succession Committee that now was the time—

His shoulders sank as he looked up at the clock. He had promised Gabriel he would call tonight…and now he was an hour late in doing so. If anyone could make him feel better and forget his troubles, it was Gabriel, the one man he had come to truly love.

Although the man wondered whether Gabe felt the same this time, the latest in the countless times he had stood him up for a date. He could hear Gabe even now, chastising him in the back of his mind as he reached over to dial the phone. The voice continued as the phone rang once, twice, three times; then forwarded to the answerer.

"Hello. Please leave me a message."

There was a long pause, ending with a sigh as the connection broke.

Slamming down the phone, the man frantically began dialing his own home answerer. Gabe would have left a message there if he was going out. He smiled relievedly as he began to play the first and only message in his in-box.

"I've made up my mind, dear. If you're torn between me and your work, then I shan't burden you anymore. I need to get on with my life, and you…well, I guess you have to get on with yours too."

There was a long pause, followed by a disappointed sigh.

"Don't bother calling me…I've already put in to have my number changed. It will be…better this way.

"Sorry it couldn't work out. Take care of yourself."

The man's lip quivered as he hung up the phone.

"No."

He began to pace around the room, wringing his hands furiously.

"No!"

"NO!" he screamed. Kicking a printer cart so hard it fell over, he turned his gaze toward the next console. As he was rearing back to strike it, a decidedly obnoxious klaxon sounded, indicating he would need to vent his fury after he had attended to the duties at hand.

He seated himself at his console, opening the comm channel as he adjusted his headset.

"Control to A-Zero," he spoke into his boom mic.

A moment of static followed, followed by a familiar voice. The voice belonged to the woman whom had become his sole focus for existence. She was key to the success of the project, the project which he now realized he had sacrificed everything to fulfill.

"What?" she whispered, not the least concerned at masking her irritation.

"This project is instrumental toward the advancement of our race! And look at you! You make it out to be some kind of slumber party!"

He was just warming up. "Why the hell are you following that red-haired floozie around while your tactical objective is on the other side of town?"

"We use to call it 'avoiding suspicion' in the old country, skippy," the woman hissed irritably. "I know what I'm doing! I was a covert agent before your great-great-grandfather was nary a twinkle in his daddy's eye. So shut up and hold on... you just MIGHT learn something, ne?"

"Insolence!" he screamed into her ear. Flipping up the safety cover so hard it almost broke off its hinge, he pounded his fist down onto the little button underneath…the one labeled simply "SHOCK". He didn't hold the button down long... just a second or two to remind her who was in control. Then, he waited, smiling, for her reply.

"Ooo..." she cooed, a moment later, "You know how much that turns me on...!"

He sat a moment, unable to breathe. Of all the responses, this was NOT the one he had expected. Masocism was a possibility he hadn't accounted for when designing the disciplinary Shock switch. It completely conflicted with Pavlo's theories, as well as everything he'd learned about human psychology. But, then... she wasn't quite human, was she?

"You will obey my orders," he stated, trying not to sound too offballence, "If you don't, our deal is off. You get nothing. Understand?"

"That wasn't part of our arrangement, asshole," she snarled, "We agreed that all I had to do was WIN. If I get your precious target, then you give me what I want. You never said I had to do it your way."

"I said you would be working for me," he retorted, "That means you follow my orders."

"If I follow your orders, I'll fail," she stated. "If you want the Target, you'll shut up and let me work. That's why you hired me in the first place... you've spent your entire life on that floating dog-bowl you call a city. You don't know HOW to interact with the people down here. I do. This is my element. So sit down and shut the fuck up!"

Eyes burning, he slapped the SHOCK button again, this time holding it down. If he couldn't make her obey with pain, he'd keep up until he caused some damage. He pictured her writhing on the floor as millions of electrons, streaming between differences of potential not much different than that of a stormy sky and a tall building, overloaded every neuron in her body.

"Feeling less recalcitrant, A-Zero? Ready to play the game by my rules?" he asked, not taking his hand off the shock button. He knew she could manage a reply, even in her current state.

Her breath coming and going in ragged gasps, she sounded her answer, slowly albeit clearly.

"Go—to--hell, mutherfuk--ah! Nnnngggh---"

"P-p-primary neural system s-sh-shutdown-- g-g-going to s-s-secondary backups," was the last she managed before her transmission ended.

Returning the safety cover to its original position, he reached over to close the comm channel. Satisfied, he tore off his headset, steepling his hands as he returned to staring at the screen before him.

"Bitch."

***

Tamrin stirred at the noise. Normally his housemates had great difficulty waking him, having to now and again resort to cold water to stir him. While it could be said he didn't sleep lightly, he did contend with bouts of insomnia from time to time. Tonight had been one such occurence. To him it seemed like only moments ago he had fallen asleep, and now he was up again at the sound of someone clumsy sod stumbling around the kitchen.

He stomped down the stairs, hoping he wouldn't be tempted to pound Lee into the ground for waking him. But as he rounded the corner into the commons, Tamrin saw Lee sprawled out all over the couch, snoring loudly.

"Well, who the hell is up making all the--"

He cut himself short as he swung open the door to the kitchen. Normally it swung freely in either direction, but he could hardly open it halfway. Tamrin stared confusedly at the floor, his brain trying to figure out why the floor in the kitchen was---sticky?

Peering around the edge of the door, he could make out a human form lying on the floor in dim moonlight. Had Raisa gotten off work early, and stumbled home drunk?

He flipped on the kitchen light as he squeezed himself through the narrow opening between the door and its jamb. "Aw, for cryin' out loud, Rai, don't scare me like tha--"

Tamrin went mute with shock.

On the floor lay Nikira, dressed in the pair of panties and sports bra she'd been sleeping in. A pool of soda still fizzed around her upper body, mixing with the blood oozing from where the severely mangled can she still clamped in her right hand had pierced her skin. Glancing at her face, Tamrin noticed her eyes were rolled up inside of her head, which still lolled slightly from muscle spasms.

"Oh, Jee-zus!" he screamed, almost running into Lee, who had tiredly come to see just what the commotion was about. While Tamrin stumbled back, shaken, Lee began calling out orders loud enough for the whole house to hear.

"Drew! Avid! Raisa! Get the fuck down here!"

As Tamrin heard the footfalls of his housemates clamoring down the stairs, Lee roughly shoved him out of the way so he could place his hands lightly upon Nikira's jawbone and neck. "Move yo' ass, man!" Lee barked. "Don't just stand there! Get on the horn to Ido!"

Tamrin, moving nonplussedly to comply with Lee's order, ended up half-stepping, half-tripping over where Nikira's legs lie on the floor. "For Christ's sake, be careful! She might have spinal injury, man. Hurry up and call the Doc!"

Just as Avid peered in the door, Tamrin grabbed the wall phone off its hook and frantically began dialing.

***

Nikira hung in the ethers of time, pulled in seven different directions by the eddies and currents she encountered there. Faint whispers of half-filtered voices called her name-- no, called her by all the names she had used before. The voices came from nowhere and everyone at once, echoing all around her.

She was falling…backward, ever backward.

She fell into the void, where darkness waited for her. The darkness took her back, back to the city where the people lived, friends and enemies alike.

Which city? All the cities she had ever lived in. Which people? All the people she knew. Which friends? All of her friends. Which enemies? All of her enemies.

"My trusted advisor..."
"Cover me, Ben..."
"You're not human!"
"...I'll kill you."
"Get back Red!"
"Sanju!"

But one voice spoke loudest of all, cutting through the noise the rest of them made.

"It's morning, Nikira-chan. Wake up."

Even in her daze, she felt her heart leap. Was it possible? Could it be?

Nikira tried to whisper his name, but her lips refused to move. She felt hands, touching her. They caressed her body, repairing the damage and making everything right again. "You're here!" she wanted to scream. But to her behest, the only sound she heard was within her own stupor.

"It was all a terrible dream, Nikira," said the voice. "Come on, wake up, dear."

Nikira's eyes flickered open. Light shined in her eyes. "Oh, Mack, I love y--"

She sat up with a start. Doctor Ido stood over her, holding a pen light.

"I just met you yesterday," Ido said, smirking, "Let's keep the patient-doctor relationship strictly platonic, shall we?" He chuckled slightly at his own joke, repocketing his light pen.

Looking down at her body then back at him, she gasped realizing she was dressed rather inappropriately for a normal trip to the doctor's office. She slid away from him, blurting out fifty questions at once asking where she was and just how she had come to be there.

Ido adjusted his pince-nez, regarding her coolly. "This is my office, Nikira…you've been here before. You do remember me, right?"

"Yeah," Nikira muttered, flashing a gaze towards his Stamp, "Doc Ido." Nikira straightened herself on the examination table. Ido began to circle her, holding his pince-nez as he examined her more closely.

"Apparently you passed out rather spectacularly last night," he informed her. "Alita and your other friends were quite worried about you." He stopped, sitting down with his chest against the back of the small wooden chair he had pulled over. Face to face with Nikira, he continued. "What I want to know is just what the hell happened to you last night. I ran you through just about every test I have, but until they come back from processing, and I can't identify what put you on the floor last night. So, if you could just tell me everything you remember--?"

"I--er--" Nikira stammered. "It was a Tonic-Clonic seizure, caused by a head trauma I suffered as a little girl. I fell out of an oak tree... a big one." Ido stood once again as Nikira trailed off, mumbling something about being it green and leafy.

"I see," Ido replied, cocking one eyebrow. "How often do you get these seizures?"

"More often recently," Nikira muttered darkly, gnawing absently on her lip. "Maybe once a month."

"What medication are you taking for them, then?" Ido asked, acting as if he hung on her answer. Nikira flashed another dark gaze at his Stamp, then replied.

"I'm not taking any medication at the time being," Nikira stated somewhat coldly.

Ido grunted his acknowledgement as he walked over to the books lining the shelves across the room. "In that case, I'd like to prescribe something," he said as he pulled out one large hardcover volume off its shelf. "I've heard it is good for minimizing the effects of seizures. Ah--" He trailed off as he continued to flip the book's pages hurriedly.

"Yes. Here it is. Theraprazine."

"That won't be necessary, Doctor Ido!" Nikira called, hopping off of the bed. "I need to go now but thanks for your help! And let me know when those test results come in." With a cold smile, she slipped out the door. Ido merely stood, open-mouthed, the bottle of pills hanging dejectedly in his hand.

"I'll do that," he replied at last.

***

Nikira stared solemnly out the window. The rain splattering against the glass mere centimeters in front of her nose seemed to reflect her mood, dismal and unpleasant. Gazing intently at the mildly reflective surface, Nikira began to trace her finger absentmindedly through the fog on the pane.

It had been three days since her return from Ido's. Though things had been easy enough to explain away to her roommates, and to Alita, Nikira was a tad worried about the test results. Though unsure of the exact type of equipment Ido had used, she was fairly sure that she wouldn't like the results. Still, though, it would be at least another good week before they were in. Plenty of time.

Not that the last several days had been very productive. Other than a few lunches with Alita at some cafe that Raisa had discovered, she'd rarely left the apartment. The rainy weather wasn't particularly conducive to sightseeing, or anything else.

Tamrin and Lee had spent most of their time translating some ancient music they'd dug out of 'John's Library,' one of the spots that Alita frequented. Avid, a lady cyborg who made no attempt to hide her metallic tones, had exchanged mere pleasantries with Nikira... and that was about it. Slow and peaceful.... Nikira stifled a yawn, shaking her head slightly.

The sound of the front door slamming brought Nikira back to reality. Alita stood in the foyer, shaking water from her raven-colored hair much like a dog would after getting wet. After Avid had received more over-spray than either she or the book she was reading cared to, she closed the book huffily and glared at Alita. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry," Alita replied flippantly. "So, what's up?" She glanced around the room at the bodies sprawled out in various positions on the sofas and chairs that lined the commons.

"Very little," Nikira replied, turning away from the window. "I was just wishing I'd brought some music with me. On days like today, I need a good rhythm to wake me up."

"Music?" Lee asked, jerked away from his translations for a moment, "One of my favorite things in life. You play? Sing?"

"Some. I used to sing in a band…play a little guitar-- you know how it is."

"Ya know," Alita piped in, "I have yet to hear either of your infamous voices."

"Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?" said Drew as he reached under the table in front of him to produce a guitar case. From it he pulled a beat-up looking acoustic bass six string he began tuning.

"Want me to get my kit?" Tamrin asked the group. "Nah," Lee told him, "let's just do some string instrument thing right now."

"That's a good idea," Avid added. "Raisa worked last night, so she's still sleeping."

Lee's face lit up as hit upon an idea. Turning to Tamrin, he asked "Say, don't you have that old six string up in your room? Nikira here says she used to play."

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Let me go get it." Tamrin announced, trotting up to his room. Minutes later, he returned with a war-torn six string that looked like the fret board would fall off at any moment. Nikira gaped a moment at the dusty instrument, unsure whether or not the thing was a repro or the real thing.

"I know it's not much," Tamrin said as he tuned it carefully, "but it plays."

"Oh, its fine!" Nikira said, covering her shock with bubbly good cheer,

"It's been awhile for me, though. Bare with me, kay?" She shrugged, oddly meek.

"We'll keep it simple if ya--" Tamrin was interrupted by Nikira plucking out a complex descending scale. At the end of four tones, she jumped back up the third chord and repeated down, scaling down four new chords, and again selecting the third to start from. In two seconds, she'd repeated the process four times. She stilled the instrument, then glanced up at the five identical open-mouthed gapes that faced her.

"What...?" she asked, looking confused.

"What the hell?!" Tamrin breathed. "Out of practice, my ass," Lee murmured at the same moment.

"Oh, just the end of an old song," Nikira said, plucking through a few more rhythms, "One of my faves. I just know that one really well... I'm not as good with stuff I don't know." The blond woman paused, giving the group a weak smile.

"So, we gonna play or what?" Lee asked, gazing around the room.

Alita turned to where Nikira sat strumming chords mindlessly. "You're the guest here, Nik. Got any requests?"

"Me?" Nikira asked. "Um, no, not really. We should, ah, you know, play something we all know."

"Everyone here heard of Metallic Faith?" Lee asked. Avid and Drew shook their heads in a manner indicating they hadn't. "How about Dying In The Dark? Schweine Ficken?"

"What about that song you and I tried the other day, Tamrin?" Alita asked, "That sad one you said Lee found in the library."

"You mean 'My Love, my Lover'?" he asked. Alita nodded in the affirmative, not noticing Nikira gasp at the mention of the song's name. "Sure, I don't see why not. You know that one Nikira?"

Nikira looked like she was in another world. Nudging her, Alita repeated her name.

"Uh, yeah," Nikira said softly. "I've heard it before."

Tamrin spoke in a distinctive voice, indicating his command of the situation. "Cool. Let's get down to it then. Anyone feel like singing lead?"

"I think that honor should go to our guest," Lee said, nodding at Nikira. "Show us what you've got, Nika."

Nikira looked down at the floor for several long moments before tossing back her hair and beginning. She sang slowly, softly, reverently.

Just like before, she thought. Just the way it was meant to be.

"I call you my love...

But you can't hear what I say..."

Nikira stood in the center of the commons, the old guitar strapped around her shoulders, unattended as she began the opening of the song a cappella. The others sat around her, softly humming harmonic tones with her spoken lines. She leaned forward slightly husking the words slightly as they slid from her lips.

Nikira's fingers slid down the strings of the vintage guitar, poising themselves over the chord. The others waited for her cue. But Nikira, at the moment, was lost to them. She was falling back, back again to that place she was before.

"Hit it!" Nikira screamed, tearing into the first chord. Like a cropped horse, the guitar leapt to obey her.

Nikira let the pain pour out thought her fingers, obliviously to anyone or anything else. Concern for anything else forgotten, Nikira vented every emotion contained since the day the insanity of her life had started.

The world shattered, pieces of color flying in all directions. Nikira looked around, her hair flaring as she danced. Lee, Tamrin, Alita, Drew... they were gone. Nikira stood at the edge of a stage, an amphitheater spreading out before her. An oriental woman stood at her side, her swimsuit like outfit the mirror image of Nikira's own. An muscular oriental man and a slim Californian backed them up, picking off four-tiered chords and riffs. And, behind her, a black man with broad shoulders railed on the drums.

The audience roared, jumping and head-banging as much as the cramped stadium would allow them. Lasers, smoke, banners, fire... all somehow coming together in the insanity that flowed around her. Nikira pressed her back against the Oriental woman's, taking her own instrument to the stratosphere while the woman dove below to pick up the harmony.

Nikira stood back as the long instrumental started, her body moving more slowly than it had before. Four loud down beats led her into the scales, which the oriental woman-- no, it was Lee-- topped off for her. The Californian's guitar-- no, it was Alita's synth-- blasted out a furied crescendo, leading into Nikira's reprise of the melody. And the band played on. Nikira's hair and fingers became a blur as she screamed a wordless note. Tears flew from her eyes, catching the light as they spun through the air. Screaming now, she continued the song.

Nikira's voice cracked on the final word. Once again, the world shattered.

"So you c--" Lee stopped short when he realized his lead had stopped. Slowly, Nikira slid to her knees, tears flowing freely down her face. Everyone fell silent as Nikira openly wept, still holding Tamrin's old guitar.

Alita and Tamrin were the first ones at her side. As they knelt next to her, Nikira's left hand slid up to cover her mouth. Eyes flashed open as she shook off the tears.

"I'm... okay..." she choked, wiping the tears from her face. Red-eyed, she glanced up at the group. "That song just... it gets to me. See.. I... I met him when I was very young."

"Met whom?" Lee inquired softly, standing slightly behind Tamrin.

"His name was Mack. We were both just kids...but times were hard and we became close. Very close.

"I-- I loved him more than anything in the world. Then... he got sick and… and he died.

"That was our song," Nikira sniffled after a moment. "We never expected it to come true.

"I'm sorry," Nikira finished, "I didn't mean to... to do this. I thought I could handle it." With a deep breath, she stood. "Do you guys want to try something else?"

"Um, sure," Tamrin said, standing also, "Do you know American Pie?"

"How would she--" Alita started when Nikira interrupted with "Of course. Though I always preferred it's alternate title; The Day the Music Died." Flashing a quick smile to cover her last sniffle, Nikira hoisted the guitar once more.

Raisa poked her head out of her room, inquiring as to what the hell the noise was all about, and if she could join in. As the group reset for American Pie, this time with Lee leading, Alita found herself somewhat distracted.

String and his group found American Pie. The only reason these guys know it is cause they know John and myself. How could Nikira know it? Alita shook her head, sighing. Doesn't matter, I guess. Who knows what you can find while wandering in the Outlands.

Alita shrugged it off and quickly prepped to join in with the jam session.