EPISODE 4.01 - CONSPIRACY THEORY

Written by: Catherder, M/L Only, Rajana

With the civil war over, the lives of Max and Logan and their friends can get back to normal. Or can they?

Its a new day in Seattle. No more martial law, new job opportunities...but new enemies lurk in the shadows, and their targets and motives are unknown. 

~~~~~~

Max looked into his eyes.

I dont like the things it does to you...to us, she added softly. You kinda shut yourself off.

Hey, I promise you  no dramas this time," he assured her. "Ill just do a hack to warn them that Eyes Only will be big brother to them, and then Ill do some simple background checks on all the members. I probably wont even need to leave my computer. And I promise, no more unfinished cups of coffee.


~~~~~~ 

You got anything that youd care to share, Lydecker? Logan said coldly, remembering their last conversation.

Ah, by the tone of your voice, I take it youre still put out, Lydecker said calmly. 

Youre the one who said there is no I in team, remember? Logan replied sarcastically. 


~~~~~~ 

With transgenic speed, Max's right leg shot out and kicked Gingers feet. This time Ginger lost her balance, and when Max grabbed her legs to pull them up, she landed hard on her back.


~~~~~~ 


Okay, so we arrange a meet, hopefully with Cale, wholl be expecting a scared informant. It just may work, nodded the General. Then I take it we squeeze Cale until we find out who the hero behind the banner is.


~~~~~~

PROLOGUE

Space Needle  Sunday, August 14, 2022, early morning

Max stood on the edge of the Space Needle, staring out over the city as dawn broke.

Great, another police action. Youd think something would be working right by now. I mean, its been six months since the civil war ended.

(Flashback) 

The President was speaking to the nation.

"This was once a great country, and I think that we can make it so again. To that end, I hold in my hands an executive order that will help create new mechanisms for monitoring and controlling corruption in law enforcement agencies across the country. It's not a huge step toward solving the problems that are shaking the unity of our nation, but it's a first step. As time goes on, I plan to call for the end of military rule and to begin to restore our citizens rights as set forth by our forefathers when they wrote the Constitution. This will not happen in a day or a week, but in the months ahead, this administration will work to restore the America that we all remember and love."

Sitting on her favorite perch atop the Space Needle, Max looked down over the city. Her enhanced vision saw the man in the street, still standing in line for gas; standing in line to sign up for job programs; standing in line to buy fruit and vegetables; people getting frustrated and impatient. As Max watched, things seemed to be getting out of hand, as usual.

He promised us jobs and utilities that work too, and roads that are repaired, and plenty of available food. All this pie-in-the-sky stuff, but even he cant work miracles. Logan says that it's all been done before  something called the New Deal, whatever that was. I guess hes tryin, but people are running out of patience fast.

As produce stalls sold out of fruits and vegetables, people trudged off hungrily, cursing the President and his empty promises. Max watched as one fruit stand, with plenty of produce still adorning its shelves, was attacked by angry shoppers. 

Whats the use of having fruit available if you cant afford to buy it? a frustrated would-be customer shouted at the vendor, who cowered in the corner of the stall. Where do you get off charging us prices like this?

Its not my fault! the fruit stand owner replied defensively. Everythings expensive these days  fertilizer, fuel for my tractor and my truck to haul produce here, rent for this stall  

At least you have a tractor and a truck! another heckler added.

Yeah, and a job! the first one said.

A beat cop walked by the heated conversation. Okay, whats going on here? he asked the vendor.

These people are threatening me. Seems they dont like the prices, the man answered.

Too bad folks these days just dont appreciate the amount of effort it takes to grow all this and get it to market, said the cop, looking hard at the vendor. 

The vendor handed him an apple. He pocketed it, then turned to the crowd. Okay, people, lets go! If youre not going to buy anything, then dont bother this man. Hes doing the best he can! he shouted. When he heard grumbling from the crowd, he reached up and pushed a button on the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

Im at a fruit stand in South Market, southwest corner. Got an unruly crowd here. I may need some help.

The people heard him summon reinforcements. Reluctantly, they backed off and turned away from the stall, still grumbling, but no longer a threat.

Up on the Needle, Max shook her head. Good thing nothing like that happened when I got that grapefruit for Logan. Ida hated to have to take out a cop. At least I could afford  well, sort of  to buy the grapefruit. She smiled, straightening up and turning to leave her perch. And the look on Logans face was worth the price. 

She grew serious again. I just hope the whole place doesnt explode before all these programs can start working  if they ever do. Logans an optimist. Hes convinced that it will all work out, eventually. Me, Im just hoping I can buy a chicken at the market tomorrow. Or a gallon of gas for my motorcycle. At least I'm not the savior of the whole world this year. 


END OF PROLOGUE

ACT I 

Penthouse  Monday, August 15, early evening 

The door to Logans apartment opened and Max entered, still dressed in her work clothes, the Jam Pony cap backwards on her head and the ID badge attached to her vest. Honey, I'm home! she called out. 

In here!

Smiling, she headed to the living room, where she found Logan folding socks, a big basket of laundry on his lap.

Hey, she greeted him, leaning down to give him a kiss. Youre not working?

He looked up at her, mock offense in his features. Dont let any overworked and underpaid housewives hear you say that.

So youre saying you're my housewife? Max joked.

Logan made a face. Very funny. Somebodys got to do some work around here, and frankly, I still haven't forgotten what happened last time you did the laundry.

Hey, you ought to wash clothes in the sink like everyone else. I didn't know that stupid machine would turn all your shirts pink! She pouted for a second, then asked, Dont tell me youre still mad over that. 

Why shouldn't I be? He looked at her, trying to look serious and reproachful, but the smile in his eyes gave him away.

So you want some help?

Logan shook his head as an answer. No. Im good as done anyway.

Oh, thats good, Max smiled, cause if youre done with the chores...are you going to feed me? This girls hungry after a day of pedaling through town.

Logan looked at her and the smile crept from his eyes to his mouth. Yeah, well, I could feed you. But whats in it for me? I've been doing more than laundry today myself, you know.

Did you finally get something on those shady land deals Eyes Only was looking into?

Kind of, but it seems like there's more to the story than we know.

Yeah...I got a weird feeling that a lot of things still arent happening the way they should. Max told him.

Logan nodded. I know what you mean. He then tried to put on an ominous expression and said with a grave voice, Darkness rises again.

Max shrugged off the gloomy turn of the conversation and forced a smile. How about you whip something up for dinner, and I'll take care of dessert, okay? Max suggested.

You really have a sweet tooth, dont you? Logan asked smiling. That bakery around the corner would be profitable even if you were their only customer.

Ill take that as a yes, she laughed and headed into the kitchen, Logan following behind her. Why dont you make yourself useful and set the table while you're at it? he suggested.

I think I can handle that, she nodded, heading toward the cabinet that held the plates to take two of them and silverware to the dining table.

A minute later she returned and wrapped her arms around Logans neck. Ill do the dishes tonight, I promise.

Is that what I get for cooking you dinner? he asked, trying to make her smile.

No, she objected. Thats for doing the laundry. As a reward for the cooking, I have other plans, she added with a lascivious grin.



Jam Pony  Tuesday, August 16, lunchtime

The bike messengers who had managed to escape Normals lectures were enjoying their break on the old couches and armchairs in the back of Jam Pony. 

...No, its not. See, I was at Crash last night and there was this girl... Original Cindy heard Sketchy saying as she came closer and dropped into one of the armchairs.

and this particularly fine woman was so not into ya, Sketch, she finished.

How would you know? Sketchy pouted. You and your particularly fine girlfriend weren't noticing anyone but each other all night.

Hey, Original Cindy warned him with an admonishing finger, what Ginger and I do is absolutely none of your business.

Not if you two do it at home, but at Crash its

still none of your business, Sky interrupted. Speaking of women...wheres Lori?

On a run, Sketchy explained, trying to sound indifferent, but everyone understood what he had left unsaid. 

So everything blew up in your face, right? The girl from Crash wasnt interested, but Lori saw you hitting on her and now she doesn't want any part of you either? Sketch, thats just so... Sky hesitated for a moment before bursting out laughing. So damn funny!

Sketchy glared at him and Original Cindy and stood up, walking over to the lockers to escape his colleagues pleasantries. 

Mind if I turn on the TV? Sky asked, shortly after Sketchy had disappeared. When nobody answered back, he turned on the TV and switched to the news channel, where a reporter was interviewing a politician. 

You seem sure of what youre saying, Mr. Andersen, she was saying. Do you think you can give us some examples on why youre happy with what our government has achieved so far?

Yeah, our government, Sky sighed. Always the ones to make the news. Wonder if theres ever going to be a day when the guys in Washington dont have something to say.

At least theres a chance that this is good news, Original Cindy shrugged. Not like in back in the day, but better than before Eyes Only told us this Committee was trying to start a civil war.

Of course, Miss Riley, the politician answered smoothly. In Seattle alone, we had more than 50,000 people apply for our governments programs, be it job training, arts, or environmental programs. More than 20% of them have already found a position and therefore a good chance to be part of the newly growing economy. 

That's only 10,000 people, Sky calculated. Wonder whats happening with the rest of Seattles inhabitants?

Wonder whatd happen if you stopped bein so pessimistic, Original Cindy retorted. 

Sketchy, whod returned from his locker with a cheese sandwich in his hand, chimed in unexpectedly. Yeah, shes right, man. 10,000 people is something, at least. And theyve just started.

I can see how job training programs are going to strengthen our economy, but arts or environmental programs? the reporter pressed on. Wheres the sense in that?

The politician smiled. On the contrary, these programs serve not only to strengthen our economy but also to make this country the wonderful land it used to be. Do you remember how stolen pieces of art turned up in all places of this world? Do we really want foreigners to be the heirs of whats left of our culture? 

Of course not, she replied.

"The day some Saudi oil magnate buys the Declaration of Independence to hang on his wall, therell be nothing left of our history, Normal muttered as he came out and approached the messengers. 

The politician nodded. Thats why we think an arts program is almost as important as one to...

Suddenly Normal switched off the TV and threw the remote control onto the table. Anybody whos interested in the arts program is free to go and apply. But dont expect to have a job when you come back! he shouted at the messengers. Breaks over. So bip bip bip. Packages dont deliver themselves!

When most of the messengers stood up, Normal returned to his desk, muttering, Whats next? Arts programs? What this country needs is hard-working people, not artists.

Hard-working people like us? Original Cindy asked, grinning slyly. 

Shut up and deliver this! he shouted, throwing a package.

Original Cindy smiled, took the package and grabbed her bike. Some things never change, right, Normal?



Penthouse  Wednesday, August 17, early morning 

Rubbing his eyes and yawning, Logan wheeled sleepily into the kitchen, where Max was in the process of pouring them both coffee.

Made ya breakfast, she announced, pointing with a grin to the bowl of cereal on the dining table.

And youve gone to so much trouble! he admired, moving up to the table. He poured some milk on his cereal and was just about to take his first mouthful when his attention was caught by the innocuous music that announced the morning news.

Logan? Max tried.

He didnt reply.

His eyes had assumed an intent expression, the spoonful of cereal in his right hand poised mid-way to his mouth. With a resigned sigh and a bored expression on her face, she sat down opposite him and watched the dark-haired reporter shuffle her notes before continuing.

Today the President announced the members of his new Law Enforcement Oversight Task Force. I have with me General McKenzie, who has been appointed the new Task Force chairperson, having had a long and illustrious career in the army.

Logan, eventually returning his spoon to the bowl uneaten, mused, Law Enforcement Oversight  and whos gonna oversee them?

Max rolled her eyes, remarking dryly under her breath, Well, thats a bet I could make a killing on. Chin in hand, she regarded Logan over the remains of her breakfast.

Youve got that look again.

Not immediately responding as he stared intently at the TV screen, eventually he found it hard to ignore the two dark eyes that bore into him.

What? he asked, not quite able to keep a slight note of defensiveness out of his voice.

The one that goes with the cold coffee and the unfinished meals, Max replied smartly, her eyes resting on the untouched cereal and the nearly full cup of coffee.

A quick flick of his eyes verified her words, but he wasnt going to be outmaneuvered that easily.

I just havent gotten to it yet, he replied quickly, not taking his eyes off her face as he swallowed the cold coffee in a few gulps.

Gathering up her own bowl, Max motioned to the now-soggy cereal. You plannin' to eat that?

Logan contemplated it for all of a second. Actually...

No, she finished for him, stacking it on top of her empty bowl and heading for the sink.

I wonder who this McKenzie is? mused Logan, putting the box of cereal on his lap with the intention of putting it away, but that was as far as he got as he sat staring at a spot somewhere halfway up the wall.

You thinking about havin some of that later? asked Max, coming back to gather the last of their dirty dishes.

Logan looked at her questioningly.

Or maybe youre planning on wearing it? she added sweetly, motioning with her hand.

With a frown, Logan looked down to see the cereal spilling onto his lap where it had escaped the partially closed box.

He wheeled into the kitchen, put the box away in the cupboard, then scooped up the few flakes that had escaped and dumped them in the trash can, saying, Ive seen these things go sideways before, Max. I remember the task force that was meant to investigate police corruption - only thing was, it was made up of corrupt police. And the task force that was supposedly monitoring government grants to small businesses made sure they got a cut for each grant they okayed.

Max looked over at him as he stopped for breath, putting in quickly, I thought you were already busy with that real estate dealio you and Matt Sung were working on. 

Were almost done, he answered.

What about the records you had me steal from the company that was using kids in their sweatshops?

Logan sighed. Ive gotta find another contact whos willing to talk. Apparently the first guy was havin an affair with the bosss wife and got himself executed, he added thoughtfully.

How inconvenient of him to get dead when you needed him, commiserated Max.

Logan threw her a look at that comment, but let it pass and grabbed the dishtowel to dry the steaming hot dishes that Max had draining.

Logan, she tried again, Dont you think youve got enough on your plate right now?

Max, this could be really serious. The government is trying to make some long-overdue reforms here, but a dishonest task force could cut them off at the knees.

What they need to do is form another task force to investigate this one, Max suggested ingenuously, and then the great Eyes Only might have some room in his life for a few more pleasurable things.

Logan continued as if he hadnt heard her.

If these reforms can be implemented without the usual corruption crap, this country may have a very real chance of getting back on its feet.

With the frustration beginning to show, Max put the dishcloth down and turned to him. Logan, nobody made you responsible for every piece of garbage thats trashed on the pavement.

Logan refused to look up at her, but his annoyed sigh told its own story.

After drying her hands on the dishtowel, she took one of his hands in her own, her voice softer now. Cant you be content with cleaning up half the garbage? she tried, adopting a cajoling tone to counter his Ive got to save the world mood.

That made him look up, instinctively returning the slight pressure of her hand in his. Theres a lotta garbage out there, even if I only look into half of it, he said, one of his own quirky smiles on his lips.

Max looked into his eyes.

I dont like the things it does to you...to us, she added softly. You kinda shut yourself off.

Hey, I promise you  no dramas this time," he assured her. "Ill just do a hack to warn them that Eyes Only will be big brother to them, and then Ill do some simple background checks on all the members. I probably wont even need to leave my computer. And I promise, no more unfinished cups of coffee.

Max leaned in and kissed him gently. That's good, cause I hate that disgusting film that floats on top.

No more disgusting film, he promised again.

In that case... she smiled, as his arms drew her close once more.



Original Cindys apartment - that morning

Original Cindy applied the last of her makeup, admired herself in the mirror, and grabbed her backpack. She walked up to Ginger, who was clad in fuzzy slippers and a bathrobe, blearily staring at the previous days newspaper.

Bye, boo, gotta blaze. She leaned over and kissed Ginger on the top of her head. Ginger turned to look up at her and smiled. 

Meet you for lunch? 

Sure, sugah, just page me when you want to meet. Original Cindy picked up Gingers cup of coffee and took a sip. She made a face. Man, that stuff is nasty!

Yeah, but it does wake a girl up in the morning, Ginger replied. Can't argue with that. 

Cindy opened the door to leave. A flier, taped to the door, fluttered at her. She ripped it off and glanced at it. Her eyebrows shot up as she backed up into the apartment and leaned against the wall.

Dayum!

Whats up? Ginger inquired.

This is from a construction company. Theyve bought the building  with a grant from the government  and theyre gonna finish it. Can you believe that? Electricity, hot water and everything. Real walls.

So?

So, we got two choices. We can split in the next 30 days or we can sign up to buy one of the units that they finish. She put down the flier in disgust. Like we got the scrilla to do that.

I guess we gotta find another place to live, then? Ginger said, contemplating her coffee cup.

Either that or I gotta find a better job so we can buy this place. Aint nevah gonna be able to afford it workin for Normal.

Ginger turned over some pages of the paper and glanced down the columns. Here. I saw this last night. She handed the paper to Cindy.

Job Training Available. Are you stuck in a dead-end job? Do you need more money? Want to upgrade your skills? Yes, yes, and yes, Cindy said. She continued reading. We can help. Sign up for our training courses. Sessions being held this week in Sectors 4 and 9. Hmm, sounds like somethin I should check into.

And I found this one, too, Ginger said, taking the paper back from Cindy. Theres an outfit thats testing and retraining transgenics for non-military jobs. I think Ill check that out myself. It would be nice to be able to do something useful that doesnt involve killing people and blowing things up.

Looks like we be movin on up, boo! Cindy smiled broadly. Im gone. For real this time. Late.

She winked at Ginger. Then she was gone.



Penthouse  later that morning

This is a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin. The President of our country has established a new task force to investigate corruption in law enforcement. For too long, these supposed investigations have proven to be little more than a whitewash, with a few small-time crooks placed on the sacrificial altar to appease the masses. Its time for this sort of investigation to be exposed. General McKenzie, be warned - Eyes Only will be watching you and your Law Enforcement Oversight Task Force to ensure that the strictest standards are maintained, the people of this nation will finally see some genuine reforms, and the stranglehold that corruption has on our Law Enforcement agencies will be removed once and for all. This has been a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin via the Eyes Only informant network. Peace. Out.

Logan pressed the stop button on the remote in his right hand to finish the hack, and then sat back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face.



Lydeckers headquarters in a remote section of Washington State  that evening 

Lydecker sat at his desk, a stack of papers in front of him. He picked up a paper, scanned it, and rejected it. It joined an overflowing wastebasket of crumpled papers next to the desk. There was a sharp knock at the office door. 

Come in. He glanced up to see that Zack had already entered the room. Any luck?

No, unfortunately. 

On Lydeckers gesture, Zack sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He continued his report. Weve been infiltrating various militias, anti-government outfits, and paramilitary organizations for the past three months. Theyre all sleazy, but none of them have the clout to start a civil war. Theyre all for agitating to overthrow the system, but theyre small potatoes.

What about the others? Lydecker asked, taking notes.

I havent heard from Krit yet. Syl and Jondy reported back to me last night. Theyre still embedded in a couple of anti-government groups, but so far, they have nothing to report. Should I tell them to stay put or should I pull them out?

Pull them out and bring them back here, where maybe they can do something useful. This is getting us nowhere. Youre dismissed. Zack casually unfolded himself from the chair and left the office.

Lydecker sighed, set aside the stack of papers, and picked up the phone. Logan. It was a statement, not a question. 

Lydecker. To what do I owe the pleasure? Logans tone of voice was sarcastic

I need a favor.

Uh-oh, why do I not like the sound of this? Logan turned down the sound on the computer. Every time you call me for a favor, something bad happens. What now?"

Been trying to track down Committee members all summer  sent out the troops to infiltrate subversive groups, hit up everyone who ever owed me a favor. But Ive got nothing.

And this involves me how? Logan asked, already pulling up what scant information he had on the Committee. 

I need your help tracking down these people. Theyve lost the battle for now, but my instincts tell me theyre not going to give up. Theyll regroup and try again.

Logan rolled his eyes. You need to find a new guy, Lydecker. The Committee is your problem, not mine. Ive got enough on my plate overseeing the Law Enforcement Oversight Task Force the Presidents set up. Thats Eyes Onlys new project, and I don't have time for anything else.

Lydecker sighed loudly enough for Logan to hear him over the phone. I thought that you, of all people, would like to see the Committee taken down. After all theyve done to Max  

Sorry, I cant help you, Logan said sharply. Good luck, though. Logan quickly hung up the phone.

As he put the phone down, Max walked in, casually stripping off her biking gloves and tossing them on the counter as she joined him in the office. 

Whats up? Looks like you got bad news from Matt.

Nah, that was Lydecker. He wants me to get involved in one of his harebrained schemes to track down the Committee.

Max stared at him quizzically. 

What? Logan stared back.

Dont you want to track down the Committee? After all they tried to do to you? To me? Max demanded.

Max, Ive got a full plate. You said so yourself. This task force is going to keep me hopping. That and what Im working on with Matt. 

Logan!

Max, I cant drop everything Im working on just because Lydeckers on a mission.

Right. I guess nobody elses mission but yours counts. Max scowled.

Logan glared at her. Max, the civil war is over. Things are beginning to calm down. Were together. I just dont want to get involved with Lydecker again. You know what happens when we do. No matter how heinous the Committee members may be, they still deserve due process. And they won't get that with Lydecker.

Still, Id like to know, for my own peace of mind, that the Committee is gone and wont bother us any more. Her voice was sad, but resigned. She went over to the couch and sat down, leaving Logan to mull over Lydeckers words. 



Jam Pony  Thursday, August 18, late morning

Normal stood behind his desk, flipping through the newspaper. An article caught his interest and he read silently until he started murmuring. Yeah, just throw all the money out of the window. First arts, now this.

Got a problem, Normal? asked Original Cindy, whod just returned from a run and was now pushing her bike down the ramp, Max right behind her.

Well all have lots of problems if they continue throwing away our tax money like that.

Max threw Original Cindy a look and they leaned their bikes against the wall before they emerged in front of Normal. What? Theyre gonna build a monument for Clinton instead of Bush? Original Cindy guessed.

Very funny, missy, he replied. Seems as all these cockamamie social programs aren't good enough. Now theyre starting a program thats supposed to...encourage entrepreneurship, he quoted from the newspaper.

Whats so bad about that? Sketchy asked, joining Max and Original Cindy at Normals desk.

Whats so bad about that? Giving money away to people too lazy to make it themselves is always a bad idea!

It's supposed to help our economy get going. I think its a pretty good idea, Max argued. And it's not our money anyway  it was donated by the European Union.

Sketchy whistled. Look at Miss Weekend Update! When Max ignored him, he continued, Are there any restrictions on what business to start? Or can anyone do it?

Anyone who applies for it, Normal grumbled.

Really, Normal, I dont understand why you've got your knickers in a twist, Max said.

Because I built Jam Pony up with nothing after I bought it. And now they tell me if I had waited until now, theyd give me money for doing it! Normal blustered.

Sketchy's face suddenly lit up. I could start a massage parlor! Id just need a small room and a couple of hot chicks. And they could give me private massages every night and

Stop dreaming, dumbass, Original Cindy chided. 

But wouldnt that be a great idea? he insisted. All those babes  and of course theyd have to wear bikinis to work...

Yeah, really great, Max nodded, eyes rolling, when suddenly her pager went off. She looked at the number and a smile played around her lips. Normal, can I use your phone?

This is a business line, but Im sure you dont care anyway, so go ahead.

Hittin' ya back, Max said when Logan answered.

Why dont you meet me at the market? In about half an hour?

Sure thing, she smiled. Ill be there. Id like to get some apples.

When she hung up she saw Sketchy, Normal and Original Cindy looking at her.

What? she interrupted the silence. Arent there any packages to be delivered? If not, I'm cutting out early

Normal grimaced and turned around to throw packages at the three of them before he returned to his newspaper.

Max slowly walked up the ramp, Original Cindy next to her. I'm gonna take myself down to that job training place after work today," Original Cindy said. "Anything they have gotta be better than what Normal's selling us."

What kind of job do you think you can get?

Dunno, Original Cindy shrugged. Hairdresser, beautician...something like that.

A smile appeared on Max's face. Beautician would suit you, she said. But youve gotta promise I still get my manicures for free.

Original Cindy smiled back and laughed, Original Cindy will always give her boo free manicures. Ain't gotta worry about that.

The friends shared another moment of laughter until they headed off in different directions.



Unidentified location 11:00 AM

The security doors opened into an elegant boardroom, and General McKenzie entered. He curtly greeted the rest of the Committee members, nodding to each in turn. He took his seat at the table.

Sorry Im late. Duty beckoned. He laughed. 

So we hear, Kathryn Birman replied with a smile. Pretty impressive, getting a spot on the Presidents task force.

Yes, congratulations, Rex Selkirk said. It could be a perfect opportunity for us. He sipped his coffee as if it were the last he would ever drink.

It certainly could, Harriet Short agreed. High-profile. Perfect. We could certainly use a break these days. 

Agreed, Matthew Lang said, his voice wistful. It hasnt been a good year, has it?

No, it hasnt, McKenzie said with a curl of his lip. It was my intention that by now we would at least have control of this region and the President would be taking orders from us. 

Selkirk laughed ruefully. Now that would have been nice  meeting at the Pentagon instead of in hiding. He scowled into his coffee.

Well, now Ill have the Presidents ear. McKenzie smiled with satisfaction. Since we failed to resolve the civil war to our satisfaction, this could indeed be the answer. I have the opportunity to rid us of Eyes Only once and for all.

Any ideas on how to do that? asked Lang.

The easiest way will be to discredit him. With access to every law enforcement agency in the country, I can plant all the evidence I want. McKenzie was smug.

Terrific, Short declared, smiling.

Not only that, but since part of the goal of the task force is to wean the localities from military rule, Ill have an alternate way to control the various law enforcement agencies.

Better and better, Selkirk said.

Yes, all of this will help us track down and get rid of Eyes Only and friends, Birman said. I blame them personally for the failure of our mission. If we gain access to any law enforcement agency we want, we can make life hell for all of them. If we want to discredit Eyes Only, it will be so much easier this way. Are all of you in?

Count me in, Short said with determination.

And me, Selkirk agreed, his mood lightening.

But wait, you havent heard the best part of this. McKenzie was positively cackling. Eyes Only did a computer hack and said he was going to be watching the task force 

Whats so good about that interfering pain-in-the-ass being on our butts? Lang asked.

Because Logan Cale called me and wants to interview me for the newspaper hes working for. Hes supposed to be my contact between the task force and Eyes Only.

Ah, I see. You can feed misinformation to Cale and get it to Eyes Only. Good idea, Selkirk commented.

Kathryn got up from the board table and went over to a credenza stocked with pastries and a coffee urn. She poured herself a cup of coffee, black and strong, and drank it down. After pouring herself another, she sat back down at the table.

This time were gonna get him," she said fiercely. "And Logan Cale and his girlfriend, and anybody else who works with Eyes Only. She was positively salivating. We should start planning immediately.

Yes, why wait? McKenzie agreed. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get this over with and go back to our original plans to take down the government. We wont let Eyes Only get in the way again. With his lap dog, Logan Cale, under our control, he wont.

Great. Lets get started! Harriet commanded, getting up from the table. They all stood up, smiling.


END OF ACT I 

ACT II 

South Market Street  late afternoon

Max pedaled hard, a cool breeze blowing on her face as she rode through the increasingly busy Seattle streets. As she neared the market, she could see Logan leaning up against the Aztek, arms folded, apparently enjoying the last of the days sunshine. He gave her a wave as she approached, then reached into the car to pull out a light jacket. The late-afternoon sun had already lost a little of its warmth and as the sun went down, the breeze that had been so pleasant during the day would feel decidedly chilly.

So, how was your day? he called to her with a lazy smile as he slipped his jacket on.

You know, deliver one package, youve done em all, she replied.

Ah, a messengers lot is not a happy one, Logan misquoted, leaning in for a kiss before she even had a chance to hop off her bike.

With his arms still around her, she looked up into his face with a questioning look.

Gilbert and Sullivan, he answered by way of explanation. Opera.

Max pulled a face. I dont recall seeing any of that in the Logan Cale eclectic collection of music.

Uh-uh, said Logan, walking to the back of the car and opening the hatch for her to load her bike. Uncle Jonas was heavily into it. Wed visit for Sunday lunch and without fail thered be some Gilbert and Sullivan opera playing.

With her bike safely loaded, Logan started walking into the market, but Max had caught the look on his face.

So, just what did you do? she asked suspiciously, catching up to him.

His smile grew wider for a moment. Bennett and I kinda sabotaged his collection.

And? prompted Max.

Well, CDs dont play real well after a ride-on mower has been over them five times  although, he added reflectively, that was probably overkill on our part. Id say once wouldve been enough.

And you wonder why you were the black sheep! What did your folks say?

He thought back, shaking his head and shrugging. I cant remember if they ever found out, although they did seem happy about not having to listen to The Pirates of Penzance or whatever every Sunday. 

They were silent for a moment. 

Just like a regular couple, he grinned down at her.

Mmm, nice, she agreed, giving his hand a squeeze.

Even this late in the day, the market was busy. Since the beginning of the President's reforms, many of the day-to-day items that had become luxuries were finally beginning to flow back into the markets. Gone were the days when chickens were a rarity, and there were even some good cuts of red meat to be bought occasionally.

I believe you said something about apples, Logan reminded her.

Ya know, Id really like some peaches. Thats something we havent seen for a while.

Well, Ill just hafta find you some then.

Max made a face at him. You know its not that easy.

I do have my contacts, he reminded her mysteriously.

They wandered around for some time, comparing the produce at the various stalls before making a final choice, eventually finding a stall with a small stock of peaches and other seldom-available fruit. Great, well take some, said Logan at once to the vendor.

How much? queried Max immediately, the light of battle in her eyes.

"For you, special price. Ten dollars," replied the vendor.

Ten dollars? Max asked in disgust.

Logan, stepping back to let someone pass, saw another man coming at a fast pace toward him and sidestepped to avoid a collision. The man made no attempt to slow down. He barreled into Logan with a force that made Logan grunt and step back quickly on his right leg, trying frantically to retain his balance. He could hear the exoskeleton whirring wildly as it was jolted with the sudden force of most of Logan's weight on the one leg. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet, and he looked up to see Max looking at him in some confusion.

What happened? 

Logan absently rubbed his chest. Some guy just ran into me. So, you got the price you wanted? he added.

Reaching for his wallet in the top pocket of his shirt, his hand searched fruitlessly for what he knew should be there.

Your wallet/My wallet. The realization and the voicing of their thoughts occurred simultaneously.

Before Logan could say another word, Max was gone, flying off in the direction of the pickpocket. Shed had a brief look at the man as hed hurried off, and now her eyes scanned the gradually thinning crowds of people who were still out and about as she hurried down the walkway between the stalls.

Bingo, she murmured.

Not wanting to attract too much attention to herself, Max wove her own way through the crowds, and ran out of the building as her thief had done. Pausing at a doorway, she looked around, satisfied to see her quarry heading up the dead-end street that ran the length of the old warehouse that housed the market.

The man, realizing his predicament, had no choice but to turn around and face her.

I believe you have something that belongs to us, she reminded him politely. Then with more of an edge to her voice, she said, I want it back.

I dunno what youre talking about, the man whined, his right arm moving inside his coat.

Max just looked at him. You dont wanna get all messed up. Why dont you just give me back the wallet?

Predictably, the man produced not the wallet, but a metal crowbar that he'd had under his coat.

Just mind your own business, girlie, and no onell get hurt.

Max continued to advance on him until she was only a few feet away. Up close, the man was quite tall with a solid build, and he had innocuous features that were a prerequisite in his line of work.

Cut the crap and give me back the wallet. There was a decided edge to her voice now.

The man whipped up the iron bar, attempting to bring it down hard on her arm.

Without hesitation, Max twisted slightly, kicking out with her leg at the mans stomach. As he doubled over, she wrested the bar from his now-slack grasp. Without enough sense to know when he was beaten, the pickpocket jumped up again, swiping wildly at her. Max gave him a pitying look as her right fist smashed into his jaw, and he sagged gracefully to the ground.

Okay, okay, the man said quickly with his left hand in the air in a show of surrender. Seeing Logan approach, the pickpocket slowly put his hand into one of the deep pockets of his coat and pulled out the missing wallet, tossing it to Logan, who caught it easily.

Thanks, smiled Max.

The pickpocket looked from her to Logan, shaking his head. She sure is beautiful, man, but kinda scary.

Okay, dirtbag, outta here, barked Max, keeping her eye on the man while he scrambled to his feet. He headed down the road without so much as a backward glance.

Logan checked his wallet. His money was intact.

So, back to the peaches, smiled Max, not a hair out of place. Did you know he was trying to charge ten dollars for two? she told him indignantly as they walked back inside.

Logan smiled at the flashing eyes. You know, youre very beautiful when youre angry, he said, adding after a pause, but kinda scary.



Job Center  Friday, August 19, 9:00 AM

Seattles sky was gray as usual, and the long line of people in front of the building with a handwritten sign reading Job Center looked up skeptically, fearing it would start raining soon. Ginger and Original Cindy had already made it into the building and had almost reached the office for the job training applications.

I still wonder if this is the right building, Original Cindy said. The regular Job Center is downtown, not here.

But this is the address given in the ad you saw, isnt it? Ginger asked.

Yeah, it is.

And there are so many people here, I dont think were wrong, Ginger told her.

By the way, its really cool you came with me, Original Cindy said. It would have been so boring waiting in this line all alone.

Yeah, like you would have stayed alone for a long time, Ginger replied, laughing. She added more seriously, And I didnt come to accompany you but...to apply too.

Original Cindy looked surprised. You too? What kind of plans do you have?

Ginger shrugged. Something. There must be a chance for me to find a job that doesnt involve feeding transgenics. Maybe be a chef, or a cook at a really nice restaurant or hotel, something like that. But Ill never find a decent job without a proper education, so thats why Im here.

Thats so cool, Original Cindy said, smiling and hugging Ginger. Just think of it! Maybe we can do the same training program and work in the same business later. Wouldnt that be great?

Ginger seemed at little more hesitant about it, but for Original Cindys sake she smiled and nodded. Yeah, it would.

Only a minute later, the office door opened and a young man came out, a couple of papers in his hand and a smile on his face. You can go in, he told Original Cindy.

She nodded thankfully and took the door he had held open to let Ginger enter first. In the office, behind a desk with a nameplate reading H. Simcock, sat a man who didnt look up at them at first. His once-black hair was now tinged with gray and combed back with too much hair gel. He wore an old synthetic shirt that was a little too small. He looked up and smiled slimily.

Come on in, he called, ushering them into the office. They sat down in uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk.

Your name? Simcock asked, nodding toward Original Cindy.

Cynthia McEachin, Original Cindy replied and added, I want to apply for a job training program.

Yeah, well, who doesnt? he shrugged and typed her name into his computer. You have ID with you?

Nodding, Original Cindy handed it to him, and he continued entering data into his computer. 

Transgenic? he then asked, making her hesitate for a second. Then she shook her head. 

No, she said, frowning, then looking over to Ginger.

So then, Ms. McEachin, what kind of job would you liked to be trained for? he asked, a little too politely.

Ya know, Original Cindy started, Ive been thinking about beautician or hairdresser or something similar.

Beautician? Yeah, thats something the women of this city really need, he told her, with a slobbery laugh. 

Raising her eyebrows at his comment, Original Cindy soon returned to the smile shed put on when entering the office. Simcock again typed something in his computer and nodded. 

There is a job training program for beauticians starting this weekend. In Sector 12. Heres the address. He scribbled it on a note pad and tore the slip off. Then he printed something out and handed both pieces of paper to her. Sign this, then give the yellow copy to the job training center. Keep the pink one for yourself.

Thats it? Original Cindy asked.

Yeah. Were done. Simcock turned to Ginger and started asking questions.

Your name?

Ginger Collins. 

You have ID?

Ginger nodded, handing it to him. He filled in the form on his computer and continued, Transgenic?

Looking up at him, Ginger hesitated, then asked, What? 

Are you transgenic? Simcock repeated, this time not in his extremely polite voice, but rather irritated.

Ginger shrugged, then nodded and said, Yes, why?

Simcock pressed the Delete button on his computer and the form cleared. Im sorry, Ms Collins, but you'll have to turn to the aptitude testing center before we can help you find an appropriate job. He opened the lower drawer of his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper full of instructions. Heres the address of the testing center and some information about it.

Confused, Ginger took the sheet from him and scanned through the first lines. I...I dont understand, she told him. All I want is to apply for job training, like everyone else out there.

Simcock put on his serious face and used his right hand to press his hair flat to his head. Everyone else out there whos not transgenic, he corrected her. Im sorry, but thats the rule. No transgenics in job training before theyve been assessed for...special skills.

Ginger rolled her eyes but stood up and left the office with Original Cindy. In the doorway, she turned around and said to him sarcastically, Its really nice to learn how much were appreciated as members of this community, before closing the door behind her.

Sugah, calm down, Original Cindy tried to quiet her. If you need to do a test, youll do it. Cant be that bad.

Ginger scratched her head. With a look at the sheet of paper, she said, Looks like Im going to find out.



General McKenzies office, Sector 10  later that morning

Logan Cale here to see you, General, announced the short-skirted secretary.

Logan walked in, quickly taking in the thick, Persian rug, antique mahogany desk, leather chairs, and ornately framed paintings.

The General, seated at his desk behind his computer, failed to give any sign of acknowledgement that he had a visitor. Logan put his laptop carrier down and stood patiently, hands in pockets, studying the General with interest and noting his old-world military bearing.

Eventually the older man looked up, glancing at his visitor over the rim of his glasses, before motioning for him to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Logan Cale. Youre here to interview me about the task force?

Logan nodded once as he sat down, then asked, Do you mind if I tape this interview?

Not at all, replied the General in a genial manner.

While Logan set up the recorder, McKenzie stood up and walked to the window, looking down twenty floors to the street below.

Those are the people were trying to protect, he said, motioning with his hand, as if he were picking up on some previous point, the normal, everyday people who have been so sadly neglected these past few years. 

Turning to Logan, he said, The President is determined to make our country a safer, less corrupt one. You should appreciate that. I believe youve had a rather unpleasant first-hand experience with the depths to which our country has fallen.

Logan quickly glanced toward the computer, his eyes narrowing with dawning enlightenment, then slowly brought his eyes back to the Generals face. The look of polite interest barely slipping, he remarked coolly, I suppose thats why youre a General. He nodded slightly. Know your enemy, he drawled.

I dont regard the press as my enemy, protested McKenzie with a smooth smile, but youre quite right, it pays to stay one step ahead, he added silkily.

When Logan gave no reply, McKenzie continued, Some of your previous articles have been quite critical of the government, Mr. Cale. 

The question is, will you be able to stay one step ahead of the corruption? returned Logan, quickly steering the topic away from himself.

We are absolutely determined to carry out with success the task the President has put before us, McKenzie smiled confidently, returning to his desk chair.

Recognizing this as the same well-rehearsed rhetoric the General had used the morning before on his TV interview, Logan remained unimpressed. And just how does your task force intend to do that?

With his superior smile, the older man replied, One of our main aims is to wean the states from military rule. The President wishes to see our great democracy firmly back in place.

Wouldnt you say that your task will be a rather difficult one, General, considering the present levels of corruption in our law enforcement agencies? How can you be sure that your own task force is totally above reproach?

We must use the utmost vigilance in investigating any charge of corruption, he continued with impressive ardor, regardless of how minor or mundane they may seem.

With an ironic expression, Logan remarked, Its certainly an impressive performance, General.

Not a performance, Mr. Cale...

A quest? suggested Logan dryly.

Ignoring the comment with an attitude of disdain, the General continued, Our task force will be making recommendations to the President once weve completed our analysis. And, of course, our ultimate aim will be to stop the corruption at the grass-roots level by personally overseeing our recommended changes. 

Thats an admirable sentiment, Logan responded, but ...

Seeing Logans skeptical expression, the Generals genial manner slipped slightly, and he said with a hint of anger, Its time the people of this country had the confidence to put their trust in their own elected men and women, rather than in some trumped-up, self-appointed sensationalist.

Logans eyes narrowed for a moment. I take it you mean someone like Eyes Only? he said smoothly.

For a second the older mans brows drew together in a fierce frown, and he stood up abruptly, mouth open for an angry response. Then his eyes fell on the small, black box that was a silent witness to everything he said, and with an almost visible decision, he brought his emotions back under control and gave a short, savage laugh. 

Lets not be sidetracked with other issues, Mr. Cale, he replied at his most urbane. This task force will have enough to deal with.

Sensing the interview was nearing its conclusion, Logan stood, replying, Im sure it will.

A buzz on the intercom announced the Generals next appointment. Logan was subtly dismissed with a most sincere "Thank you" and a handshake that left him with the strong inclination to wash his hand with a very strong antibacterial soap.



Sector Twelve Job Training Center  noon 

Original Cindy looked around while locking her bike to the fence that surrounded the building. It seemed as if this had once been an office building or maybe even a school. The sign on the fence next to her read Job Training Center.

Slowly she walked toward the main entrance, following two men, and went through the open door. Inside the building were more people, some lining up in the corner of the room where there was a reception desk, others studying the board to find their room assignments.

Original Cindy had already found the number of the room for the beautician training when an announcement was made via the speakers in the building. 

To all new participants of our training programs! Please make sure to check in at the reception in the lobby before proceeding to the classrooms. Have the yellow copy of your contract ready. Thank you.

At least this line is shorter than the one at the job center, Original Cindy muttered as she stepped to the end of line in front of the check-in.

Wonder what the check-in is for, asked one of the men, whod come in ahead of Cindy and were now standing behind her. 

The other man shrugged. I dont know. Maybe we have to prove that were really here. Maybe thats how the government makes sure that the training center only gets money for those who really participate in the courses.

I dont know, his friend said. Why would somebody go through all that trouble of waiting at the job center and applying and then not show up here?

Well, it wasnt all that much trouble, was it? the first man said. Id expected wed have to bring some references or prove that weve got experience or whatever. Wasnt all that hard, was it?

The second man scratched his head. No, it wasnt. But I assumed they still had a place for us in this training program and thats why we got it.

Original Cindy didnt overhear the rest of the conversation because she was next. She pulled the yellow piece of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to the woman behind the check-in desk.

The woman took it, looked up the name, and compared it to a list with names she had on her desk. When she found the name, she ticked it off and started to fill out a receipt. That makes $500, Ms. McEachin."

Original Cindys eyes grew wide. She raised her eyebrows and looked at the woman in disbelief. Youre kidding me.

No, of course not, Ms. McEachin. Thats the cost of the beautician training you applied for.

Shaking her head, Original Cindy asked, Am I not getting something? Isnt the government supposed to pay for this training?

Of course, it is and does, the woman explained. But the government only spends a certain amount of money per person, and unfortunately, thats not enough. Thats why I have to ask you to pay part of it.

Youre telling me that I have to pay 500 bucks to do this training? Do you know how many packages I have to deliver to make $500, missy? Original Cindy asked, her voice rising.

I know its not cheap, but it's an investment in your future. Is that worth $500? the woman said, unsuccessfully trying to calm her down.

Yeah, well, maybe if Id known in advance, Id have tried to save up for it, but since nobody bothered to tell me, I just dont have that kind of money. How can you people just not mention it, then expect people to pay? Thats a scam! Cindy was almost shouting at the woman, her voice full of anger and disappointment. The woman simply stood up and disappeared behind a door, only to come back a few seconds later with a man following her.

He looked at the yellow paper and the signature, and said in a calm voice, I heard that youre not willing to pay the participation fee, Ms. McEachin.

Damn right. Original Cindys not going to pay for it. That wasnt part of the deal, she replied.

But you signed the contract, the man insisted. So you have to pay...

Original Cindy, not letting him finish his sentence, leaned over the table and took the offending piece of paper out of his hands. Forget about it, she said, ripping it in half.

Then she turned around and for the first time was aware that everyone had been listening to her conversation. And maybe all of you should just forget about it, too. Dont deal with these scammers, people. They promise you a better life, then only want your money.

Turning on her heel, she stormed out.



Penthouse  evening

Logan took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He had been working all day on General McKenzies background check. Breaking through all the firewalls had taken time and he was running out of patience. 

Patience in all things, he muttered. 

Whats up? Max asked, walking over to him, cup of coffee in hand. She sat down in the office chair next to him and leaned over to examine the screen.

Just this investigation into the Generals background. So many firewalls. Driving me nuts.

You need to take a break, Logan. This is getting to you. Let me make you a cup of coffee. Grab a snack. Just drop it for a while.

Logan put his glasses back on. Sounds good. Let me do one more search, then Ill take a break.

Great. Let me get you that coffee. Max got up and headed back to the kitchen.

Logan turned to the bank of computers once more. He typed in a couple of keywords and hit the Enter key. The computer began to run the data search. Logan unlocked his brakes and headed toward the kitchen. He got halfway there when the computer beeped, indicating a hit. Startled, Logan stopped, then swiveled the chair back around and returned to the office. 

Max, come here! he called to her, excited.

Max came running. Whats going on?

Look here. He indicated the computer screen. I set up a search on boards of directors of large corporations, figuring that maybe General McKenzie was on a few boards  high-ranking military men frequently are. Look what turned up.

Max gazed at the screen. General McKenzie was listed as a member on three boards of directors  along with Kathryn Birman.

Oh my God, she said. Do you think...?

I dont know, but Im thinking its not a coincidence. Let me do some further checking.

Logan typed in Kathryn Birmans and General McKenzies names, along with several keywords. Once again the data ran and the computer beeped.

This is getting curiouser and curiouser, he commented, as Max leaned over him and read the screen.

The results of Logans latest search showed copies of newspaper and magazine articles, detailing various social and philanthropic events that both McKenzie and Birman had attended. There were photos of them sitting at the same table, smiling together. They were described as good friends in most of the articles.

Logan, this cant be a coincidence. Not only are the good General and the Wicked Witch of the West board members together, theyre buds! Im not liking this at all.

This cant be good, Logan said as he scrolled down the screen and saw article after article documenting the longstanding relationship between the two.

You need to call Lydecker, Max stated.

Yeah, Logan reluctantly agreed. I guess I do. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. Max sauntered back into the kitchen to get him the promised cup of coffee.

Lydecker, she heard him say, I just found some interesting information. It seems that McKenzie and Birman are all buddy-buddy and have been for years.

Max brought the cup of coffee over and handed it to him. Logan inhaled deeply and said firmly, So, when were you planning to tell me this?

Max looked at him, an eyebrow raised. He put up a palm, indicating that he would tell her in a minute.

Dammit, Logan swore. He slammed the phone down into its cradle. 

What? Max asked at last.

Lydecker already knew that McKenzie and Birman were bosom buddies. Apparently he thought we were on a need-to-know basis, and we didn't need to know.

Max sighed. Would it have made any difference? Knowing that, I mean?

I dont know, but thats not the point, is it? Logan replied, explaining it to Max as if she were a small child. The point is that Lydecker withheld information in an investigation  again. 

What did you expect? Lydecker has his own agenda. He always does. And you should know that by now.

Sometimes I dont know why I bother. Logan closed the program and headed for the kitchen. I may as well start dinner, since Im not getting any help from anyone. Logan angrily pulled ingredients from the refrigerator and ferried them over to the counter. After all, Im trying to help you.

Maxs voice cut through the air at that comment. Or maybe this isnt about me at all...Logan, maybe this is all about you, she finished angrily, glaring down at him.

Hey kiddies, said a familiar voice from the doorway. Am I interrupting something?

What makes you say that, Alec? asked Logan sarcastically.

Well, the raised voices are always a bit of a giveaway, not to mention the steam coming from your ears. Just warn me if you get to the kiss-and-make-up stage  Ive just had dinner.

Well, we havent, said Max, giving him a strong hint.

Had dinner  or got to the kiss and...no, I guess you meant dinner, he added quickly, looking from one to the other.

Well, if its one of Logans specialties, you could probably persuade me to stay, he went on brightly, only to quickly hold up his hands and say, Just kiddin folks, at the look on both their faces.

Cut to the chase, Alec, snapped Max.

Going around to the area where Logan was working, Alec sat on the counter, watching with interest as he prepared a sauce.

So, whats that for?

Alec, warned Logan.

Okay, he replied, undaunted by their remarks. Ive been in touch with a few people from the old alma mater. Apparently theres a so-called job training program for transgenics.

Max nodded. I heard about that.

Only thing is, it looks like theyre being trained in cleaning toilets, unblocking sewers, and sifting through garbage for recycling  and those are the lucky ones. It gets worse.

Whos running this? asked Logan, rinsing his hands under the tap.

I guess thats the million-dollar question, Alec mused. Supposedly it comes outta City Hall. One of these new government programs.

Logan nodded. Everywhere you go lately theyre flogging those.

Its when they flog their participants that I get concerned, quipped Alec back. Then, on a more serious note, he said, Do you think the all-seeing Eyes Only might check it out?

Logan gave Max a quick look before wheeling over to his computer. Just give me the details you have, Alec. Ill see what I can do.



Jam Pony  Saturday August 20, late morning

Instead of milling around aimlessly, most Jam Pony messengers seemed for once busy delivering packages, as the building was almost empty. Only Max and Sketchy, whod just finished a small break between runs, were there, pushing their bikes toward the entrance.

...Yeah, we should do that, she told him, when she spotted Original Cindy coming back from a run. She waved at her friend and the three of them stopped at the base of the ramp.

Hey! Max greeted her. How was your job training? She almost felt the need to duck when Original Cindy started complaining about the things that had happened.

Dont talk to me about that scam! They wanted me to pay them instead of the other way around! Can you believe it?

Like you said, boo, some things never change, Max said. Whatd they want the money for?

Nothin, far as I can tell. Just for being big-hearted enough to take in suckers like me, I guess. Original Cindy was almost as furious as shed been at the job training center.

Didnt they tell you about that when you applied? Sketchy asked. 'Cause otherwise, thats pretty low and dirty.

It is dirty, Original Cindy agreed. They make you come in full of hope, and then suddenly they start talking about taking the money that you dont have.

What did you do? Max asked, curious.

I ripped the damn contract in two and left. Didnt wanna find out how much reinforcement there was in the back room.

Max looked at her friend, who was still furious but more disappointed. Im sorry, she told her. I was really hoping this was a chance for you to do something else.

When Original Cindy only shrugged, Sketchy tried to be supportive by saying, Isnt that what usually happens? The elitist guys have the power to suppress the rest. And they do it only because they can. No chance for us to rise above our miserable lot in life. He wheeled his bike up the ramp and out the door.

Normal, whod just returned from the men's room, suddenly raised his voice. You poor, suppressed messengers! Is this a work-related meeting or are you going to get back to your jobs?

Looks like we have to keep on keepin' on, Original Cindy muttered. There really seems no way out of here.

Whats your problem, missy? Normal glared at her. You didnt find anybody to spend money on you so you could get a new job? So, go and earn the money for it, or be happy with what youve got. Dont expect everyone else to do the heavy lifting. Im not lending you the money.

I didnt ask you to! Original Cindy retorted.

Stuff it, Normal, Max shouted from the ramp. Even slackers like us just have to try every once in a while.

Fine, just dont use my tax money to do it! Normal declared loudly as he ran to answer the phone.

Sorry, Original Cindy apologized to Max. Its just so frustrating.

I know, Max nodded. Ill have Logan look into it. Maybe he can do something about it.

Thanks, boo, Cindy said, as they all went off in different directions to deliver packages.



Lydeckers headquarters  7:00 PM 

Lydeckers desk was still cluttered with papers, but the center of it was now occupied by his laptop. He dialed a number and hit the speakerphone button.

Logan. 

You got anything that youd care to share, Lydecker? Logan said coldly, remembering their last conversation.

Ah, by the tone of your voice, I take it youre still put out, Lydecker said calmly. 

Youre the one who said there is no I in team, remember? Logan replied sarcastically. I kind of figured youd abide by your own rules. He'd been in the kitchen, fixing dinner, but as soon as he'd heard Lydeckers voice, he'd turned off the burner and wheeled into the office to open the file.

I do have something for you, Lydecker responded gruffly. But youre not going to like it. I was able to access some military records that were pretty well hidden. The general was a model soldier until about 25 years ago. Then theres a big gap in McKenzies records in the mid-'90s. Its like he disappeared. He was obviously involved in black ops.

Logan swung the chair from side to side, uneasily. Great. Anything you could find out about?

Lydecker shuffled some papers. Not until 2009, when he shows up on several boards of directors of biotech companies.

I know that. Anything else? Logan pulled up the data he had found on General McKenzie. 

He was headquartered in Wyoming for several years, then was transferred to the Seattle area in 2011.

Hmmm, this sounds familiar. Logan frowned and scratched his head. You think he had something to do with Project Manticore? 

Hes not on the books as a member of the project, but according to what I have been able to find, he seemed to be in the same vicinity as Manticore wherever Manticore was at the time. He might have been on some sort of parallel project

Or on the Committee? Logan suggested.

Thats my theory. Ive got a partial record of an organization he was affiliated with  lots of it is blacked out  but it indicates that five people were part of the organization  two women and three men, with an overall head of operations.

Ill bet I can guess who one of the women was, Logan commented. He checked his e-mail and found the one from Lydecker detailing the results of his search. He opened and read it, then saved it to his growing list of files on McKenzie.

Well, according to my sources, the two women are businesswomen. Theres General McKenzie, the military man. The other two men  one owns a biotech firm and the other is retired military who has ties to defense contractors. That's all I have.

Logan ran his fingers through his hair. Its a start. Thanks. If you find anything else, let me know.

Same goes for you. If these people are members of the Committee, I want to know who they are and where they are. I want this over once and for all. He hung up before Logan had a chance to reply.

Fat chance, Logan muttered. He updated his own information on McKenzie and returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner. 



Transgenic Training Center  Monday, August 22, 9:00 AM 

You sure this is it? Max uneasily followed Ginger. 

Yeah, this is it. Ginger checked the address on the slip of paper once more. Thanks for coming with me. I appreciate your support, Max.

No problemo, Ginger. Ive always got your back.

Once inside, they followed a sign to the first office on the left, in which a woman sat behind a desk. We came to do the testing, Max explained to her. People at the job center told us to come here and...

She suddenly nodded understandingly. Yes, of course. Welcome to the TTC, the Transgenic Training Center. Please have a seat while we fill out some forms. She had another look at Max and suddenly seemed to recognize her. Arent you Max? Designation 452?

Max nodded, trying to keep up her friendly face. Yeah, even I gotta pay the rent. 

The woman frowned but said only, Okay, then lets begin.

She asked them their names and addresses first, then the questions became more Manticore-related. She typed all answers into a computer. Max tried to read what was on the screen, but the woman changed the direction of it when she realized what Max was doing. Max noted that there was nothing else in the room except for the desk, chairs, and computer. There were no bookshelves, no books, no files.

It didnt take long until two men took Ginger and Max to a gym in the basement. There they were both sent on a high-speed training circuit until the men told them to stop. By that time, even well-trained Max was sweating. Thankfully, they accepted the towels offered to them and went to a bench where they prepared to sit down.

Hey, ladies, shouted one of the men who were supervising them. Break times later. Climbing skills are next.

Climbing? Ginger asked.

The man nodded. Here, up the rope, and back down the ladder on the other side over there.

Without any safety precautions? Max asked.

That a problem?

Max had a closer look at the ceiling and all the equipment attached there, and she shook her head. No, no problem.

Then please start at my signal, he told them. Three, two, one, go!

Ginger and Max ran to the ropes and were at the ceiling in no time. They soon climbed down the ladder, Ginger a body length ahead of Max.

One of the men motioned for them to follow him. He led them to a room with a boxing ring in the middle. Again Max and Ginger exchanged a look, and then both said simultaneously, No way.

The man, whod so far been quiet, grinned widely and nodded, Oh yes, every way. The one whose back first touches the floor or who leaves the ring loses.

Max muttered, This reminds me of the fight-club I closed back in TC.

Ginger shrugged and pleaded almost inaudibly, Please, Max. I really want to take part in that job training program.

Max rolled her eyes but nodded. Okay. Ill do it. But then well leave. No matter what else theyve planned for us.

Thanks, Max.

They both entered the ring and again the man counted down. Max was hesitant at first and only circled Ginger, but the redhead started with a high kick that Max parried with her arm. She used her other hand to grab Gingers leg and twist it around. Ginger kicked that leg again forcefully and Max had to let it go. Max dodged the next kick and tried to push Gingers legs from under her. Ginger, having seen this coming, jumped out of the way. When she landed back on her feet, Max had already come up again and greeted her with two punches to her stomach that almost left Ginger breathless. She jumped back a yard to catch a breath; Max let her. 

Come on, ladies! Thats all? they heard the men shouting. This time Max attacked. She and Ginger continued the punching and kicking for some minutes, until Ginger threw her feet in the direction of Maxs face and made her friend go down to her knees to prevent the collision. In a blur, Max's right leg shot out and kicked Gingers feet. This time Ginger lost her balance, and when Max grabbed her legs to pull them up, she landed hard on her back.

Done! one of the men shouted. Max let go of Ginger and reached out her hand to help her up. The man called out, Thats it. Were done. Testings over. Both men walked out of the gym.

Good thing. If Id wanted to jump through this many hoops, Ida stayed at Manticore, Ginger said, breathing heavily.

"Somethings not right here," Max said. That was endurance and strength testing, not aptitude testing. Its like they dont care what were good at.

The men returned with two sheets of paper. Here are your training assignments.

Max and Ginger took their papers and stared at the training assignments. They looked up in disbelief.

Janitors?! they both said.

Max crumpled the piece of paper angrily. We just did the freaking triathlon so we can be trained as janitors?

I dont understand, Ginger said. What about our experience outside Manticore? I was a cook in Terminal City. I was hoping to work in a real restaurant, maybe be trained as a chef. Her lip trembled.

Who cares what you did in Terminal City? one of the men said. This is what weve got. Take it or leave it. 

You mean this is the best we deserve, Max retorted.

The men said nothing, but simply smiled and walked away.

Max looked at Ginger as they picked up the towels theyd dropped on a chair when they entered the boxing ring and dried themselves off. Im not liking this. I think a little after-hours recon is in order. You game?

Sure. Im not liking this either, Max. 



Penthouse  Monday, August 22, 7:00 PM 

Max turned the shower on full blast and let it run hot before she stepped in. Then she adjusted the temperature until it was so hot it made her skin start to turn red. 

She stood under the hot stream for a long time, rolling her shoulders and neck muscles, feeling the tension of the day ebbing away.

Finally she turned the water off, grabbed one of the thick towels and dried herself. After carelessly running the towel over her hair and changing into fresh clothes, she gave herself a critical once-over in the mirror and went in search of Logan. She found him sitting in front of his computer.

So howd your day go? she asked, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she stood behind him.

Youre dripping water on me, he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Oh. Sorry, she added, sounding surprised and a little hurt. Looking at the screen, she asked, Whats this all about?

I think Im getting a handle on McKenzies and Birmans cronies, he murmured, eyes intent on the screen, as another search came up. Bingo, he muttered, fingers flying over the keys once more.

What is it? asked Max intently, or I should say who is it?

Logan keyed in some more information and yet another list came up. He stared hard at it for some moments, thoughtfully biting his bottom lip.

Logan? tried Max again.

Lydecker gave me some passwords to hack into McKenzies records. Ive been working on it most of the afternoon. Ive found a link between him and four other people who have all crossed paths on boards of directors of major companies at one time or another.

Who are they? asked Max quietly.

After he pressed a few more keys, another window appeared on the screen. Logan leaned forward, elbows on the desk, his chin resting on his hands. 

These people, he told Max, pointing each one out in the picture on the screen. Harriet Short, Rex Selkirk, an ex-military man. The thin, elderly guy with the bent nose is Matthew Lang, Logan continued, and of course our dear friend Kathryn Birman with the bobbed hair.

Is that one McKenzie? asked Max, pointing to a distinguished-looking man with a thick head of gray hair.

Mmm, replied Logan, although I thought he looked a lot older when I... He paused a beat, not taking his eyes off the screen.

When you what? asked Max innocently.

I had the opportunity to interview him for the Seattle Post, answered Logan calmly, pushing away from the desk.

What happened to the Ill do all this from my computer' dealio?

Max, I had a call from the editor asking me to do it. I didnt plan it, retorted Logan, sounding annoyed as he wheeled through to the kitchen.

Max followed him, shaking her head. You knew McKenzie and Birman were involved and you still went ahead and interviewed him in person!

Logan spun around with a grunt of exasperation. I didnt know at that point that McKenzie had a connection with Birman.

So, what did he say? Did he mention anything  transgenics, Eyes Only, whatever? prompted Max.

Logan looked at her a second before answering. I kinda got the vibe that hes not a fan of Eyes Only.

And these other names youve come up with  do you and Lydecker think theyre members of the Manticore Committee?

Looking up at her with a serious expression, Logan said, Its gotta be a good possibility.

This just keeps getting weirder and weirder, Max murmured, a far away look in her eyes.



Original Cindys apartment  11:00 PM 

It was late at night and drizzling when Max pulled up in front of Original Cindys and Gingers building. The latter was already waiting for her by the scaffold-covered front entrance, leaning nonchalantly against the door. She wore cat burglar clothing similar to Maxs  black, tight-fitting turtleneck sweater and pants, a black watch cap, and sturdy work boots. 

Hey, Max said by way of greeting.

Hey, Ginger replied.

Ready for a night of burglary? Max asked, patting the seat behind her.

Ginger nodded. Sure. She climbed on behind Max. The Ninja sped off, heading toward Sector 5. They avoided the now-sporadic sector checkpoints and continued down the silent streets of Seattle.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into an alley behind a nondescript block of storefronts and parked the motorcycle behind a dumpster. Max tiptoed toward the building. With her superior eyesight, she could scan the edifice and see that there was no external alarm system to deter them.

Come on, lets get this over with, she said.

She took her lock-picking kit out of her belt pack and began to jiggle the pick in the lock of the back door. It was only a matter of seconds before she had the door open. She crept into the building, motioning to Ginger to follow her.

The two women cautiously made their silent way down the hall toward the office. They stopped outside the door, which was closed. Max tried the doorknob; the door wasnt locked. Putting her finger to her lips in an unnecessary gesture, Max slowly turned the knob. 

There was a heavy footstep in the hallway. Max ducked down into a crouch, dragging Ginger down with her. In that position, they both froze while the security guard walked across a perpendicular hallway and shone his flashlight down the one where they were crouched. Both women melted into the shadows as the light passed by them a bit too closely. In a moment, the guard passed by, and the light was gone.

Max and Ginger entered the office where they had been interviewed and tested. A quick look around reminded them that there wasn't anywhere to store records, just a couple of desks and chairs. Max spotted a doorway into another room on their left and moved quickly toward it, Ginger at her elbow.

The door was locked, indicating to Max that the room it led to probably contained what they sought. Once again, she pulled out her lock pick and got to work. This lock was more stubborn, and she gritted her teeth, trying to make the implement work. She hissed in frustration.

Whats wrong? Ginger whispered.

Damn lock, Max muttered, as she jiggled the pick in the lock. Finally, it gave way. Ah, thats it.

The door gave way with a tiny squeak and they both crept in.

The office was spare, with a desk, two chairs, and a couple of file cabinets. There was a computer and printer on the desk. Max pulled a Maglite out of her pack and handed it to Ginger, then took out another for herself. Try that cabinet, she said to Ginger. Ginger obeyed her order and opened a drawer. Max went through the desk drawers, but found nothing, not even a diskette. She turned on the computer and quickly ran through the files, but there was almost no information in them - just some names and addresses of transgenics who had previously registered for the program. Disappointment showed on her face. She turned away from the desk and opened a file drawer.

They began to rifle through the files, searching for anything that would indicate who was behind the job training scam: a name, a corporation, even a telephone number. Their concentration was so intense that neither of them heard the creak of floorboards until the office was flooded with light and a gruff voice called out, What the hell are you doing?

A burly security guard stood in the doorway, flashlight in one hand, pistol in the other. As Max and Ginger turned to face him, he pressed a button on a walkie-talkie that hung from a shoulder tab. 

Hey, this is a private party, Max said. No fair inviting crashers. She leapt at the man, both feet kicking, and landed hard against his abdomen. He went down in a heap and they resumed their search. 

Their mission was interrupted once again when a husky guy in a uniform showed up a minute later, gun drawn and a snarl on his face. 

Freeze! he shouted. 

Damn! Max replied. Don't you people know how to RSVP? She turned to face him and crouched into a kick, but this guy was quicker than the first and got off a shot before she had time to leap. She dodged the bullet and jumped at him. He stepped back, out of the path of her attack. Max quickly regained her balance, and now, joined by Ginger, came at the guard again. He fired another shot, causing Ginger to duck and roll out of the way. 

There was a soft groan from the floor, as the other security guard came to. 

Great, now weve got Dumb and Dumber to take care of, Max said to Ginger. Ginger nodded and turned to the other man, who was trying to get up.

Stay down, will you? Ginger snarled at him as she leveled a punch at his jaw. He moved aside, and the punch landed on the side of his face. He shook his head and tried once more to rise. Ginger made sure that he didnt with a fist that landed in his solar plexus and took him down like a ton of bricks.

Max was delivering roundhouse kicks to the other guard, who was sidestepping them competently. He came at her, hands extended toward her neck. Ginger, having neatly tied up Dumb, turned toward Max and Dumber in time to see Maxs expression. She nodded, and came at him from the side.

Manticore training kicked in as Max and Ginger mounted a two-pronged attack on the beefy guard, kicking and punching from both sides. Whatever his training and background, he wasnt as smart as the X5s, and he wasnt as agile either. They poked at his eyes, kicking him and punching him. Max flipped him over her head by an arm, and he landed on his face, groaning. A couple of shots to the head kept him down long enough for Ginger to rip a printer cord out of the wall and tie him up. 

With both men down, Max and Ginger went back to the files. Lets get out of here as soon as possible, Max said, still breathing hard.

Okay, but Im not finding anything here, Ginger replied, flipping through files.

A quick perusal of the contents of the file cabinet led Max to admit, Me neither.

They shut the file cabinet drawers and, leaving Dumb and Dumber trussed up on the floor, turned out the light and shut the door. 

Once back in the alley, Max pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed a number. She got Logans answering machine. 

Logan, hey, its me. No luck here. No records, no relevant files, nothing. I need you to do your thing on the computer. Its like this place and the people here don't exist. Ill be home as soon as I drop Ginger off. Later. She hung up and got on the Ninja. Lets go home. Nothing like a wasted nights work. 

I cant believe we didnt find anything. Theres gotta be something, Ginger said, shaking her head in disappointment.

Well, somebodys really gone out of their way to bury the records. Makes me wonder what theyve got to hide. Must be big.

Yeah. Gotta be something going on.

If there is, Logan will find it.

Ginger got on behind her and they sped off into the night. 


END OF ACT II 

ACT III 

Penthouse  Tuesday, August 23, morning 

Logan rolled his eyes and sighed. Damn! This is like trying to break into Fort Knox. I dont think the CIA has this many firewalls.

Max came over to the computer and leaned over to look at the screen. Still nothing?

No. Its like the company never existed. No records of it on file that I can find. Ill try a couple of other searches, but Im not very hopeful.

Well, thanks for trying. Max straightened up. You want a cup of coffee?

Yeah, that might help. Logans frustration showed on his face as his fingers flew over the keys. Let me try this. He hit the ENTER key and waited.

Max turned on the TV to watch the morning news. She half-listened as she poured Logan a cup of coffee. Suddenly, she put the cup down.

Logan, look at this.

Logan wheeled over to the dining room. Max brought him the coffee and sat down at the table. Together, they watched the news.

The news reporter was standing in front of the storefront that Max and Ginger had broken into the night before. 

This is Cliff Porter. Im here in front of the headquarters of the Transgenic Training Company, which has just announced that it is filing for bankruptcy. The company, which had benefited from government grants, closed its doors this morning. Its director stated that she had never been able to line up enough jobs for transgenics to warrant continuation of the program. Hundreds of hopeful transgenics were turned away this morning. This is the first local failure of the Presidents extensive agenda to get people back to work. Reporting from Sector 5, Im Cliff Porter. 

Logan, thats the place Ginger and I broke into last night. 

Im on it, Max. Logan wheeled back to the office and picked up his cell phone. He dialed the number of the television station they had just been watching. 

Hello, oh, hey, this is Logan Cale. Im working on a story and I just heard Cliffs report. Can you tell me the name of the director of the company he was reporting on? Transgenic Training Company. Great. Ill wait.

Max watched with interest while Logan waited for the information. A few minutes later, he said, Thanks, I owe you one," and hung up.

He typed a name into the computer and ran a search. A window full of data appeared. Thats better.

Got something? Max sat down next to him at the desk.

I think so. Its a start. Let me see what I come up with. This is the director of the TTC. He pointed to a name in the middle of the screen. Let me see where she leads  you know, who she works for, who she hangs out with. Maybe that will shake something loose. 

He started typing again while Max looked on, smiling. She put a hand on his knee. He noticed the movement and looked at her. He smiled too, briefly, then went back to the computer screen, all business again. This could take a while, you know, he said. Shouldnt you be heading off to work?

Yeah, well, I can sit here with you, or I can put up with Normals sanctimonious crap about how government-sponsored social programs arent worth the effort and are doomed to failure. That should be good for about an hour this morning. They both laughed. 

Just then the computer beeped, indicating that the search was finished. Logan leaned closer to the desk and glanced at the screen.

Whoa! he said aloud. Our director is a friend of General McKenzies.

No way!

Look, Logan said, indicating a spot on the screen. He's on the Board of Directors of the Transgenic Training Company. And look here: our friend, Kathryn Birman, and another name that keeps popping up  Harriet Short  are on the board of another company our director heads. Hmm.

Strange bedfellows?

Very strange. Logan frowned at the screen. Wonder if this company is a front for the Committee?

If it is, Im sure youll figure it out. Maybe you better call Lydecker and see if he has any information. And now, I really should go to work. Normals probably over his rant by now. Max leaned over and kissed Logan on the cheek. He smiled at her, almost shyly, and turned to return her kiss.

Take care of yourself, he said after he came up for air.

Always do. Have fun, Max ordered. Then she walked to the door and left.



Undisclosed location  Tuesday, August 23, mid-morning

It's about time, said Kathryn Birman as General McKenzie opened the door of the hotel room. Would you like a drink? The smile almost made her eyes as she offered him something from the well-stocked mini-bar.

McKenzie sat down in one of the overstuffed armchairs, looking around appreciatively. Its a pleasure to escape the tawdriness of the streets, he commented.

Lets get down to business, stated Birman, her voice cold and business-like.

You have a plan? asked McKenzie silkily.

She raised one brow at him. You doubt me?

Walking to the window, she drew the curtain, then turned on an antique lamp that sat on a small table. After filling her own glass from the mini-bar once more, she sat down opposite him.

Eyes Only is already suspicious of your task force. Well use that to our advantage.

The General nodded grimly.

I think you may find you have a whistleblower in your midst.

McKenzie looked at her carefully.

We put the word out on the street that an underling from the task force has information that all is not as it should be. I believe his conscience is troubling him. Hes seen the Eyes Only hack and he desperately wants to unburden his soul.

The General nodded thoughtfully. What makes you think Cale will be involved in this?

We have to assume that Cale is high up in the Eyes Only hierarchy. It seems only fair, considering what the man has suffered for the cause. We put out that our mans scared. Hell only talk to someone directly, someone who has the ear of Eyes Only. With a cynical smile, she added, Hes terrified of what General McKenzie will do to him if he finds out.

Okay, so we arrange a meet, hopefully with Cale, wholl be expecting a scared informant. It just may work, nodded the General. Then I take it we squeeze Cale until we find out who the hero behind the banner is.

Dont forget 452, Kathryn Birman reminded him. 

For the briefest moment, the veneer of polite self-control slipped, and her voice shook slightly with the intensity of her emotion. I want the whole trifecta, she ground out vehemently. Once we have Eyes Only, Im sure shell come running  but this time well be ready for her! Therell be no slip-ups this time!



Jam Pony  late afternoon 

So this whole Transgenic Training Company disappeared like it had never existed? Original Cindy asked incredulously. 

Max nodded and shut the door of her locker with a little too much strength before sitting down on the bench in front of it, next to her friend. Yeah. One day were there and the next day its gone. Logan found some hints that most likely its never been kosher. Nothing that could prove it yet, but Im sure this has been a big scam from day one on.

It's sad, Original Cindy said while tying her shoes. At least I have this job, but Ginger's back to square one. Its hard in times like this, especially when youre transgenic.

Max smiled. Preachin' to the choir, boo.

Original Cindy finished her shoes and came up again. Did Logan find out anything about the training program I went to?

No, Max said, shaking her head. Something came up....

Hey, no problem. Its not like I lost anything. Not yet, anyway.

Max looked at her, surprised. Whats that supposed to mean?

A construction company bought our building and theyre going to finish it... Original Cindy started. 

And now you can either stay and pay rent or leave? Max finished the thought.

Almost. They're giving us the choice between leaving and buying.

Who can afford an apartment these days?

Nobody whos working for Normal. Thats why I went to this job training thing in the first place. Ginger too. Now Im still working for Normal, she still doesnt have a job and times running out.

Max looked at her friend sympathetically. Im sorry, OC. But Im sure this will all turn out fine. I mean, you gotta buy this apartment, right? We can't just give it up.

Whos talking about giving it up? Original Cindy asked with a slight smile, her figure straightening visibly. Youre talking with the one and only Original Cindy. This girl always finds a...

She was interrupted in her musings by a familiar noise coming from the television set on the wall. They both looked up as the picture faded and was replaced by the red, white and blue banner that signaled an Eyes Only broadcast.

This is a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin. Today the Transgenic Training Company declared bankruptcy. Eyes Only has information that the company was running a scam on transgenics and closed its doors rather than have that scam revealed. However, Eyes Only intends to get to the bottom of this so that transgenics, who have fought so hard to be accepted as equals, are not taken advantage of again. This has been a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin via the Eyes Only informant network. Peace. Out.

Max frowned as the broadcast ended.

Wanna come to Crash with us? Original Cindy asked. 

Nah, I got something I gotta take care of. Maybe later, Max said abruptly. Gotta blaze.



Penthouse  9:00 PM 

Max walked into the dimly lit apartment, pursing her lips as she noted that the only light to be found issued from Logans study. With an unmistakable frown on her face, she went through and stood silently by his desk. Since Logan didnt look up, she swung her backpack onto the desk, aware of a slight thump as she did so, then the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Logan glanced up.

Oh, look at that, said Max ironically. Its an unfinished cup of coffee. She looked down at the broken coffee mug, and the trail of coffee that was now steadily dripping onto the floor, without moving.

Logan looked at her expression just once.

Ill get the cloth, his words rushed out diplomatically. He made a slight face as he saw some important papers swimming in the brown liquid when he got back, but made no comment, very aware of Maxs silent form behind him. Refusing to meet his gaze, she abruptly put out a hand, palm up, for Logan to drop the cloth into. 

Logan watched her until shed almost finished wiping up the mess. The clearing of his throat sounded very loud in the room. Sorry...about that.

Max nodded, still without saying a word. Then she stood up and walked through to the kitchen, where she dumped the mug in the trash and washed the cloth under the faucet.

I never liked that cup anyway, tried Logan when she came back. 

Its not the coffee, Logan, said Max at last.

Dont tell me it was your favorite mug, he attempted humorously.

The hack, Max stated flatly.

Logan frowned up at her. You didnt like it?

Logan, I never asked you to do an Eyes Only broadcast and turn this into a major event. I just asked you to check their records for me! Now Birman and McKenzie and their friends are gonna know youre on to them. Thatll put you, me, and Ginger in danger. Gesturing with both hands, she said with frustration, Does it always have to turn this way with you - everything becomes a major cause?

Logan leaned back with a look of frank astonishment. I thought you wanted me to check out the job training scheme.

Thats right, but just check it out  not make it an Eyes Only crusade! I never meant it to be an obsession with you. Dont you have enough of those already? she asked sarcastically. Youre forever obsessing over some Eyes Only cause!

You were here with me when I found out that McKenzie was involved in all this, Logan retorted, his own voice starting to rise.

McKenzie, Sonrisa, Bronck... She shook her head scornfully, gesturing toward his computers. This is how you got your ass shot off in the first place!

Logan flinched slightly at her words. Max   he began.

This isnt your fight, Logan. It was just supposed to be a routine investigation. Now its become an Eyes Only mission. I didnt want to get you involved. Max sighed deeply.

Max, I wanted to get involved. I wanted to do it for you and your friends.

Well, I didnt ask you to get all spun about it. I just wanted to find out what was going on, then I would have handled it by myself. You get so wrapped up in your work, you just tune everyone out  

Logan stared at her and opened his mouth as if to protest. Seeing the expression on her face, he shut it and looked down at his feet.

She took a deep breath, and said in an almost calm, but cold, tone, Theres a party at Crash. Im heading down there if you wanna come.

Max saw his eyes dart to the computer screen, and the hesitancy in his attitude.

She looked at him, all the frustration and annoyance evident in her face and words. Oh, I forgot, worlds coming to an end, again! 

May I remind you that Im doing this for you, he ground out.

May I remind you to get a life! she snapped, turning abruptly on her heel and storming from the room.

Logan watched her go, wincing as the apartment door slammed shut with X5 force.



Crash  9:15 PM

Max came down the stairs into the main room at Crash, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. Toward the back of the room, she saw a hand waving and heard a voice shouting, Partay ovah here, girl!

Max grinned and made her way to the table where Original Cindy and Ginger sat, a pitcher of beer in front of them. Cindy indicated an empty chair at the table.

Saved one for ya. Figured youd show up sooner or later. She poured Max a glass of beer.

Yeah, were celebrating tonight, Max, Ginger explained. One transgenic aptitude testing scam undone. Not bad.

We just have to figure out what to do now, since our big get-outta-Jam-Pony plan went up in smoke, Cindy said with a sigh. She rolled her eyes. Ive been hearing it from Normal all day, too. Yak, yak, yak about how thats what all us ingrates deserve for trying to rise above our stations in life. She snorted.

Yeah, that sounds like Normal. Still constipated, still cranky, Max agreed. Im sure youll find something legit. Ill get Logan to check out whatever you decide to try. Hell know if its good or not.

Great, Cindy said. Now what? It seems like no matter what I do, I just cant get ahead. We gonna lose our crib if we dont find something soon. I gotta get me another gig so I can afford the price we gotta pay. And Ginger wants to work, too. She only trained to be a soldier and she dont want that anymore.

I know the feeling, Max laughed ruefully. Itll all come correct, boo. You know it will, she said sympathetically.

Yeah, I do, but sometimes, its just so hard.... Cindy sighed, as they were joined by Alec and Joshua, who pulled up a couple of chairs and sat down. 

Hey, Max, I thought you and Logan would be getting busy by now, Joshua said. 

Max sighed and poured herself a beer. Yeah, me too, big fella, but Logans too obsessed to pay any attention to me. Maxs voice was full of sarcasm. He just cant seem to put it away and get a life.

Far be it for me to give you advice on your relationships, but this is Mr. Obsessed were talking about, Alec reminded her. Max glared at him, but he continued, He couldnt give it up if you held a gun to his head. 

You would know, Max said without much enthusiasm, fiddling with a lock of hair. That doesnt make it right, though. He turned a favor I asked him to do into a major Eyes Only mission and hack. He just cant let go.

Joshua put his arm around Maxs shoulders. But, little fella, Logan is only doing this because he loves you.

Whatever. Max shrugged. Its just that sometimes he makes me so mad. Hes so obsessed...

At least hes obsessed with you, Alec said with a smirk. Why cant you two just talk to each other like normal people?

Yeah, Max, you need to go talk to him, Joshua said, nodding vigorously.

Max looked into her empty glass. She darted a couple of quick glances at both Joshua and Alec.

Ah, what the hell do I know of relationships. Im just something they cooked up in a lab, Alec said. 

Right. Max poured herself another beer and sat back, sulking. 

How about a game of foosball? Original Cindy asked, trying to cheer her up. 

Youre on, Max said, getting up from the table. 

They slammed out a fast and furious game. Original Cindy rolled her eyes good-naturedly when Max won. Hot game, boo. They made their way back to the table, pushing through the late evening crowd. 



Penthouse  10:00 PM 

Logan stared out the big picture windows of the dining room, deep in thought. The sudden ringing of his phone startled him, and quickly shaking himself from his thoughts, he wheeled across and picked it up.

Hey, he said abruptly.

The voice at the other end sounded out of breath. I think I got something big for you.

Logan, recognizing the voice of one of his informants, quickly grabbed his notebook and pen. Shoot, he replied tersely.

Word on the street is theres a guy who wants to throw some dirt on General McKenzie and his task force.

Logan stiffened instinctively at the words.

Hope I did the right thing. I organized a meet for you.

After a brief pause, Logan said, You did right. Give me the details.

Logan jotted down the address and time. Okay, I got it.

The guy was real nervous. Said he was scared of what McKenzied do to him if he found out what hed done.

Just tell him to lay low, and Eyes Onlyll make sure nothing happens to him.

The informant at the other end hung up, and Logan put the phone down slowly, thoughtfully rubbing his hand over the stubble on his chin.

After reading the address again, he wheeled the short distance to his computer and set the brakes. He keyed in the details, still with the same thoughtful expression on his face. Leaning forward a little, he looked intently at the screen. An office building in downtown Seattle, he murmured, and not in very good condition, by the looks of it.

He glanced at his watch and reached for the phone again to contact Max, his eyes resting on the exoskeleton while he waited. After some minutes, he gave up and left a message on her pager; then, with a determined air, he set about putting on the device that gave him the ability to walk.

*********************

Logan pulled up outside the office building where he was to meet the task force informant, with five minutes to spare. Killing the lights of the car, he sat in darkness for a moment, taking stock of his surroundings. The area was virtually deserted this time of night. He double-checked that he had his cell phone and that his gun was loaded before slipping it back into his jacket pocket.

With a deep breath, he opened the car door and stepped out into the lightly falling rain. He locked the doors and walked the short distance to the address hed been given.

Logan entered a working elevator in the dingy foyer and pushed the button. He got out on a dimly lit third floor, the whine of the exoskeleton sounding abnormally loud as it echoed slightly in the gloom. Putting his hand into his jacket, he grasped the handle of his gun, and with a deep breath walked toward the office where presumably his informant would be waiting.

He knocked gently on the door.

You the Eyes Only contact Im supposed to meet? a voice answered.

Yes, Logan answered.

Come on in. 

Logan opened the door warily and stepped inside. He saw neither the gun nor the hand that held it as the butt crashed down on his unprotected head.


END OF ACT III 

ACT IV 

Penthouse  10:30 PM 

Max, head down, unlocked the door to the penthouse and called out, Logan?

Surprised that there was no reply, she walked through the apartment. The lights were off in the office and all of Logans sophisticated computer equipment was shut down. 

Logan? She stuck her head in the bathroom door. No Logan. He wasnt in the bedroom either, and Max noticed that the exoskeleton was missing.

"Great. I come back here against my better judgment, expecting him to grovel, and he's not even here," she said to herself, sighing. After a second, she pulled out her cell phone to call him on his. As she was hitting the speed dial, she noticed there was a message. Although she was half-expecting to hear his voice, Max nonetheless jumped when the Hey, Max revealed that the message was indeed from Logan.

Just want to let you know that Ive gone off to meet with an informant from General McKenzies camp. He called to let me know that there was an emergency and he needed to talk to me. Hopefully, I wont be long. I didnt get a chance to tell you... The message ended.

Damn! Why couldnt you let me know where, Logan? She hit the speed dial for Logans cell phone. The phone rang, but there was no answer. She left a message in his voice mail, asking for his location. 

She went into the office and booted up the computer. Then she searched Logans files for anything pertaining to McKenzie. There was so much that she hardly knew where to begin, but her speed-reading skills came in handy as she scanned file after file. Wow, the Generals been a bad boy! she muttered. But this still isnt telling me where Logan is. Reluctantly, she closed the files and shut down the computer. Now what?

Max picked up her cell phone again and, with a sigh, dialed a number.

Yes? a gruff voice said.

Reluctantly, Max asked for assistance. Lydecker, I need your help. Logans gone off to meet with an informant about General McKenzie, and Ive got a bad feeling about it. I think its a setup  that Logan is literally walking into a trap. He didnt say where they were meeting, and Ive got to find him.

McKenzie's got an office in Sector 6 but if hes planning something, I doubt hed have Logan meet him there. Probably a more remote site that wouldnt attract attention, Lydecker said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Okay, so where? Max demanded, pacing back and forth in the living room. She ran her hand through her hair.

Let me check my files and get back to you, Lydecker replied.

Lydecker, I need that information now! Logan may be in danger from McKenzie, and hes not answering his cell phone either, so something may have happened to him already. There was desperation in Maxs voice.

Lydecker clicked on a file on his laptop and searched it. There was a list of addresses of properties owned by General McKenzie and others associated with him. It was a long list. He narrowed the search to remote locations, away from the center of the city. 

Here we are  four locations I think may be the best ones for your purposes. Two are in the warehouse district. The others are in Sectors 5 and 12.

Thanks. Max quickly wrote down the addresses, then hung up. She grabbed her leather jacket and keys and headed down to the garage to retrieve her motorcycle. 

Youre welcome, Lydecker said to a dead phone. He printed off the list of locations, stuffed the piece of paper in his pocket, and headed out the door. That should keep her occupied while I get to the real meeting location, he said to himself, a smug expression on his face.



Various locations around Seattle  11:30 PM 

Maxs motorcycle roared down the street. She headed toward the warehouse district. Up ahead, she spotted a sector barricade, manned by only one sector cop. She hesitated, deciding whether to run it, but her better judgment made her slow down as she neared the barricade.

Mercifully, the stop was quick. It seemed like the sector cop was aware that his days were numbered, and he did his job in a desultory manner, passing most of the cars without even checking passes. Max flashed her Jam Pony badge, and he waved her through.

A short trip took her to the first warehouse. It seemed deserted; no cars were parked in the vicinity, and no lights were visible inside the building. Max parked the motorcycle a short distance away and silently crept toward the building. She surveyed it thoroughly, taking in the outmoded security system and the lack of guards. Trying the door, she was surprised to find it unlocked. 

A quick check of the interior confirmed that it was, indeed, deserted. She exited as quietly as she had entered and mounted her motorcycle. One down and three to go, she muttered as she headed for the second warehouse. 

The second building was as shabby and derelict as the first, but Max decided to check it out just in case. Once again, it was deserted, not even a guard. She gritted her teeth in frustration and turned her motorcycle in the direction of Sector 12.

Max hissed with impatience as she waited at a sector point. The sector cop was slow, as if he were bored with the job. Slowly, the line advanced until Max was at the head of it. She flashed her pass again, and the bored cop let her pass through the barrier. Once on the other side, she gunned her engine and popped a wheelie. 

Max drove down the damp, dark streets of Seattle, searching for the address of the office building Lydecker had given her. Streetlamps flickered in the drizzle, adding to the surreal atmosphere. Not many cars were on the road and few people strolled on the sidewalks. It was depressing.

Intent on her destination, she almost missed the side street near the last location Lydecker had given her, where a blue-gray Aztek was parked. A glimpse of a familiar taillight made her back up. She turned onto the side street and pulled up alongside Logans Aztek, parked, and got off the motorcycle. The nearest building was dark and quiet, and looked to be an apartment complex. Dismissing it, she went to the one next door and walked up the three steps to the entrance. 

The door was unlocked, so she quietly opened it and entered. There was a granite security guard station, now empty, near the front door. An office directory hung on the wall next to it. Max quickly scanned the list of companies. One, on the third floor, sounded familiar; she recalled that she had seen it on a screen when she was searching McKenzies files.

Ignoring the bank of elevators in front of her, Max headed for the stairs. As she ascended, she was on the lookout for guards or suspicious activity, but saw none. When she got to the third floor, she carefully examined the doorframe to make sure it wasnt wired for alarms. Seeing no wires or sensors, she cautiously turned the knob and entered the hallway. 

Max made her way silently down the hallway toward the office listed on the directory. Suddenly, hearing a noise, she flattened herself against a door. Two mean-looking goons came out of the office she was seeking. They were large and bulky, and obviously armed. They also werent very bright, since they looked neither right nor left, but headed down the hall away from Max. 

She tiptoed up behind them and knocked their heads together hard. They went down like a stack of crates. Max made sure they were out cold, then crept into the office. 

There was a reception desk near the door, along with a small couch, a pair of uncomfortable-looking chairs, and a coffee table. A short hallway led to inner offices. Max listened carefully and heard familiar voices from one of them. Edging along the wall, she peeked into one office after another, finding no one. When she came to the main suite, she stuck her head in the doorway. Then she quickly pulled back, shocked.

Kathryn Birman, with a snarl on her face, was threatening someone Max couldn't see from her vantage point. Max watched as Kathryn leaned over and bitch-slapped the person. In a blur, Max ran across the doorway and peeked into the room from the other side. 

It was Logan. He was tied hand and foot to a chair. Max could hear the strain of the exoskeletons machinery, forced into an unnatural position. 

Ill bet you thought you had killed me in that dungeon, Kathryn said.

Wishful thinking, Logan replied defiantly, which earned him another slap across the face. His glasses were bent, indicating that Kathryn had already gotten in a few rounds.

So, where is that bitch, Max?

Dont know. Havent seen her lately. Logan flinched as another blow came his way.

Liar! I traced her to Eyes Only, and you came to her rescue. I know youre Eyes Only. Nobody else can be. Do you want me to expose you?

Do what ya gotta do, Logan said cheekily. Another smack rattled his teeth.

Max looked on, agonized as Kathryn tortured the love of her life. She was about to launch herself at Kathryn and end the whole thing when she heard noise from across the room. Startled, she pulled back, flattening herself against the wall. When she dared to look into the room again, she saw McKenzie, nattily attired in civvies, a cocktail in each hand.

Kate, you want to take a break from that and have a drink? He thrust the cocktail toward her, but she turned away, back to the task at hand.

Dont you see, Mac, weve got Eyes Only in our grasp! Finally! Dont you want to find out what he knows about us?

Dont be silly, Kate. Hes not Eyes Only, McKenzie pooh-poohed her. He stirred his martini, an action that reminded Max of Logans Uncle Jonas. How could he be? Look at him. McKenzie gestured to Logan, who glared at him. He cant even walk without that  exoskeleton  and that must be stolen from some military warehouse. Do you really think that Eyes Only is a cripple? 

Why not? Has anyone ever actually seen Eyes Only? He gave me a lot of grief from a wheelchair some months ago. Did I mention that? Kathryn snarled.

Kate, hes just a contact  a high-level one, I admit, but just a contact, McKenzie explained as if to a child. 

Logan sat there, bound and ignored, while Birman and McKenzie argued about whether or not he was Eyes Only. Finally, he spoke up. Hey! You two, over here. Unfinished business, remember? Or have I been tied up just to watch the entertainment? 

Kathryn swiveled around and backhanded Logan so hard that she knocked the chair over. Max used that moment to dive at Kathryn, hitting her feet-first at knee level. Kathryn went down hard and both women rolled on the floor, exchanging punches. General McKenzie, stunned, dropped his martini. He ran into the adjoining bathroom and emerged with an automatic that he attempted to aim at the women. Logan, forgotten for the moment, struggled to untie himself.

Max untangled herself from Kathryn and jumped up. She crouched in an offensive stance, feet apart, arms up in front of her, and hands fisted. Kathryn approached in a similar stance and threw the first punch. Max countered with a kick aimed at her chest, which the older woman ducked. Kathryn kicked back at Max, and Max jumped back a step to evade it, then attacked Kathryn again. Once more, they literally went head-to-head, pushing against each other. McKenzie couldnt get a shot in without hitting Kathryn. 

In the meantime, Logan had managed to get his hands free. Working quickly, he undid the other intricate knot, freeing his legs. He rolled out of the way of the fight and attempted to stand up. The exoskeleton creaked and whirred, and as he got to his feet, it shorted out, dropping him to the floor. McKenzie caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his weapon on Logan.

Max, momentarily distracted, took a kick to the jaw from Kathryn. She grabbed Kathryns foot and twisted. Kathryn fell. Max jumped on top of her and delivered a powerful uppercut to the jaw. Kathryn stayed down, knocked out. Max turned to McKenzie, kicking him across the back of the knees. He fell on top of Logan. Logan rolled out from under McKenzies weight when Max grabbed the general by the collar and hauled him upright. She hit him until he fell again, dropping the gun. Logan picked it up and held it on McKenzie.

Well, what took you so long? Logan asked, a twinkle in his eye. He pulled himself up into a sitting position.

I found the Kate-and-Mac show so entertaining that I didnt want it to stop, she replied. How ya doing?

Other than a few obligatory bruises, not too bad. 

Good. Now what do we do about these two? Max asked. Neither noticed that Kathryn had opened her eyes. 

No idea. We cant prove that theyve done anything, Logan answered. 

Kathryn, still lying on the floor, moved slightly, reaching her hand down her leg to her ankle. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she pulled a palm-sized revolver out of an ankle holster. She brought it back up her leg until it was pointing at Max and cocked it. 

Max heard the click of the hammer and turned toward Kathryn, but not quite fast enough to prevent the shot. Kathryn fired. Max ducked, throwing herself on top of Logan and knocking him flat to the floor. The bullet missed them by millimeters.

Another shot rang out, but it didnt sound like one from the .22. Kathryn fell sideways, a bullet hole near her ear. Max looked up, puzzled. 

Lydecker stepped out of the shadows, a Ruger in his hand.

I couldnt let you come here alone, Max. The two of you had no idea with whom you were dealing.

So, enlighten us, Lydecker, Logan said. 

Both of them are members of the Committee, Lydecker said gruffly. He took a cell phone from his pocket and hit a button.

Its Lydecker. Get up here and take out the trash. Room 310. He hung up and pocketed the phone. My team will be here in a few minutes. Well talk later. It was a dismissal.

As he spoke, Lydeckers black-clad minions entered the office. They zipped Kathryns body into a plastic bag, slung McKenzie over a shoulder, confiscated all the evidence they could find, and carried everything away. Within minutes, they were gone. 

Max and Logan looked at each other. Logan tried the exoskeleton switch at his hip but nothing happened.

Damn! Great timing. Could you get my chair from the car?

Consider it done, Max said over her shoulder as she headed out the door.



Penthouse Wednesday, August 24, early morning 

Max and Logan returned to the penthouse later that night, dirty and tired and more than a little irritated. The exoskeleton was out of commission yet again; Kathryn Birman was dead, which was a good thing as far as Max was concerned, but Lydeckers men had hauled away General McKenzie, which meant she and Logan wouldnt be able to interrogate him about the Committee. 

After a painful few minutes wherein Logan intently studied data on his computer and Max noisily made a cup of coffee, Max finally walked over to the desk and sat down in the office chair next to him. Logan turned to look at her.

What? he asked.

What would you have done if I hadnt come along?

Max, do we have to talk about this now? Logan sighed wearily.

Yes, Logan, we do. You went off by yourself like a cowboy and fell into a trap  again. Didnt we already go through this with Gerhardt Bronck? Max looked at him, her eyes frank and worried.

I left a message on your voice mail  

Yeah, I got it. Not much help in letting me know where you went.

Sorry. I didnt know it was going to turn out like it did. How could I?

Well, for starters, Max said, getting up and starting to pace, it seems like every time you go to meet an informant, something bad happens. You should have backup in case its a trap. Also, you knew the exoskeleton was unreliable. Its been breaking down every other day or so. Were you prepared to crawl out of that office, even if it hadnt been the Gruesome Twosome doing nasty things to you? How were you gonna get outta there?

Logan hung his head in reply. Id have thought of something, he mumbled.

Right.

Look, Im sorry, Logan said. I thought I had a lead on something important and I didnt want to wait for you to get home and get over your  mood.

Max stopped pacing and came over to Logan. You always think you have a lead on something important! Max was exasperated. Logan, I love you. I dont want to see you get the rest of your ass shot off  or worse. Every time you go off on one of your missions, I get chills down my spine. Im so afraid Ill never see you again. Cant you understand that?

Logan took her hands in his. Yes, I can. I spent some of the worst months of my life without you, thinking you were dead. Im sorry, Max. I promise to let you back in. I just wanted to protect you.

I dont need protection, Logan. I can take care of myself. You know that.

I know. I cant help it. After all weve been through this week, we still have the Committee  or whats left of it  after us. Lydecker has General McKenzie and God knows what hes up to. And I still havent gotten any further on that phony job training company. Yeah, its shut down, but we still dont know whos behind it or what theyre really up to. Theres got to be more to it than just assigning transgenics to menial jobs. And since it seems to have some connection to the Committee, I think we need to pursue it.

I noticed that you said we. Does that mean that Eyes Only is gonna let his private cat burglar actually do something?

Yeah, I guess it does, Logan admitted. 

Good. Its about time. She leaned over and kissed him.


TO BE CONTINUED...


END OF EPISODE 4.01
