\chapter{}
Joe Valone left work late that day.  Drivers where mapping out a new crop of winter potholes on the NY streets.  The Sun repair shop was busy, but Joe wouldn't rush.  He resisted the the presure to keep pace with the tide of walk-in repairs.  Joe's boss had begun to differ work to other repair shops and had asked him to stay late out of frustration with missed business.  Joe reluctantly agreed, noting that he felt he must stop after his current car.

Auto undercarriage work can be dirty and unpleasant, but it had potential be exceptionally dangerous for Joe.  An array of high power springs, shaved metal edges, high pressure seals, prybars, and a 2 ton car held over your head with what amounts to compressed air could slow any mechanic who thought about it.  Most of Joe cohorts were reasonably careful, but he was especially so.  One mistake could kill him,  if he got so much as a one inch gash or bruise.

Being alone in the garage was not a good idea, but Joe had plenty of good ideas to compensate.  He had made a padded sleeve he used reach into hot engine compartments.  He built a telescoping rod with a tiny infrared, visual, and ultrasonic cameras at the end out of old palmtop parts.  He even had a full robotic arm to the shoulder adapted from an early flawed robotic prosthetic his aunt rescued from a trash heap.  Often his coworkers wanted to borrow the now stronger and metal plated arm when pulling pressed control arm or gearbox components.   

Not that his gear protected him every time.  About a two years ago Joe had folded back a thumbnail while working on The Combatant, a robot he and some friends where working on for a contest.  It was subtle, just enough pain to alert him to the damage.  He told his teammate Lucy about the injury and they decided to drive to the hospital just in case.  It's a good thing, because his thumb had grown to the size of a golf ball by the time they got there.   The doctors there immediately began transfusion and drug therapy and eventually drained most of a pint of blood from his swollen thumb.

Joe's Aunt Teressa was there that day.  She didn't stay with him long, she told him, because she was due in surgery.  She made some adjustments on his chart, and told him to call her "in the marow".  He called her at home the next day.

"Hello, Aunt Teressa."

His aunt replied,  "Hello Joe, how nice of you to drop by.", sounding a little sarcastic.

"Thank you for being there for me."  Joe said almost grumbling in his deepest voice.

"How is you thumb?"

"Better.", Joe lied a little.

"Joe you are headed for trouble. Why? You are smart Joe, there are plenty of hobbies that don't endanger your health.", any hint of sarcasm was gone.  Dr Graceland continued, "If you want to design machines, fine.  But why continue build them yourself.  Your friends know how to work a wrench. No?"

"Yes."  Joe whispered.

Joe knew a few things about himself.  He liked being athletic, liked building things, and when he has a good idea, he has lots of trouble expressing it.  This didn't bother him, except at times like this.  Speaking a bit to fast Joe said, "They can't do things like I can.  I can't explain how things fit together.  They just do."

"I am not your mother, but if you continue to do this type of work yourself then I see no choice.", she uttered in a condescending almost prissy tone.

Here comes an ultimatum, Joe thought.

"We had a difficulty obtaining the right blood for you yesterday, we gave you half plasma.  If you came in for your coagulent shots every week, I't wouldn't have been so bad.  You need to be here the Tuesday after next to donate blood to yourself, and every week for your shot.  I'll be here after six."

Joe breathed again.  He was off the hook for now.

His father and aunt bombarded him with extraneous reminders of his illness.  His case was pretty severe.  Simple things that people who's blood clotted normally took for granted.  Acme could be an all day afair.  Nosebleeds were frequent and endless.  Hemophilia could easily kill Joe, but he focused his attention on matters more important to men of 22, as often as his health could stand.  As far as Joe was concerned, that was all anybody could ask of him.  

Joe thought about the money overtime would bring him as he ran a small winch he mounted to the transmission crossmember.  It's steel cable was taught as the hook on the end slowly pulled the muffler toward the passengers side of the charcol gray car.  Joe operated the winch from a wired remote, at a distance of three feet, just enough to see what was happening in the dim worklight.

While pressing the winch remote, Joe saw the tailpipe shift.  He reacted as fast as any human could, thumbing the toggle switch on the remote control.  A rusty bolt had snapped.  The muffler swung to the side and down under stress from the winch line.  A steel pipe holding the muffler to the car was under just enough strain to tip with and in the direction of the muffler.   The top of the treaded tube shot toward Joe.  He leaned back lifting his left foot and pivoting on his right.  It was to late.  Joe's quick action had thrown his body and leg clear of diving pipe, but it caught the wire for the winch remote.  The sound of smashing remote was barely audible over the loud clang of the steel pipe.

"Wow, that was close.", Joe reverberated to the silent garage.

Breathing heavily, Joe walked to the nearest wall switch and lightly flicked it on.  He tossed his shop jacket on the floor. He pulled his shirt off and examined his bare upper body.  Joe physique was lean and muscular.  After spending several minuets examining his arms, he determined he was not bruised or scratched.  He did discover he was covered with goosebumps.  

People at work new of his condition, but had no idea how severe it was.  Two years had passed working at this garage and he managed to avoid a single incident.  He needed no special attention and built his gizmos after hours.  While his behavior was a curiosity, vague knowledge of an illness was enough that he could do things his way.  

Nervous that to much would be revealed, Joe walked to a desk in the corner and scribbled a hasty note for his boss that he had a family emergency.  He was done for night, his nerves were shot.

Joe was careful about what he said, he liked his job and a good job was hard to find.  Times were tough, but not all bad.  Joe barely remembered the roaring 90s, he was too young to appreciate the spoils of the time.  He did remember his mom and dad being to busy for him with all the work they were doing.  His father likened the following hard times to the depression Joe's great grand father lived through, sarcastically calling it the endless recession.  

He lifted the phone receiver and dialed a thirteen digit number. held the receiver to his ear.  The sound of ring tone echoed in the vacant shop.  

"Hello", the phone answered in an light Indian accent.

"Hi Mark, how's it going."

"Hey what's up.  Are you hanging out tonight?",  Mark replied.

"No... Well maybe what are you doing?" Joe sputtered.

"Don't know yet, I'll call you when I do." 

"OK, I made a mess here it gunna be a half hour before I can leave.", Joe was still a bit dazed by his near miss.

"So I'll see you in thirty five minuets then.", Joe could hear Mark smirking on the phone.

"I don't drive that fast.", Joe grinned,  "It will take me at least ten minuets to get to Queens."

"What no jet engines yet?"

"No dammit.  No good scrap this month.", Joe was dripping with sarcasm too.

"Talk to you soon.", Mark uttered in his almost singsong accent.

"Later", Mark began to walk away as the phone fell in it's cradle.

Joe walked towards the pile of tools and broken parts on the floor.
\chapter{}

Why as Mark in a silly mood?  Perhaps Mark has good news about entrance into the next cyborg wars. Joe walked out the shop door scanning for strangers.  Satisfied that no-one as lurking in the shadows, Joe's mind began to wander.  The name cyborg wars was inaccurate, even funny he though. The main factor differentiating the cyborg war from other robot battle shows, was the two legged, two armed, nature of the machines.  Not that these robots actually used the legs though, they usually had tracks for oversized feet.  Joe noticed that the key he inserted into the door refused to turn.  Clearing his mind of competition, Joe examined and inserted a different key.

Joe had to be careful.  Joe Vallone was physically large and even intimidating, but if he were attacked he would be in trouble.  Ambulances responses were slower than ever and he had a bit of a baby face.  Joe walked in slow motion through the fog his breath created toward his classic Camaro.  The barely stock 1973 Camaro looked a bit strange with it's red door, sliver body and charcoal black hood.  The air intake system stuck up through a hole in the hood, hinting at the power it might conceal.  Joe thought it was probably a good thing it looked like a junk heap, otherwise it might not stay in the parking lot.

The suspension groaned as Joe climbed in the car.   Joe started the engine, and whole neighborhood knew it.  It's good to be a mechanic he thought, it about the only way this thing will pass inspection.  He turned on the stereo, loud, but then reached up and shut it back off again.   He reached under the seat and strapped on his computer, fitting a pair of Clark Kent's on.  Clark Kents, as computer savvy liked to call them, were thick framed non prescription glasses.  They weren't just any glasses.  They had typically had a projected computer screen visible to the wearer and a pair of cheap color cameras at the edge of either lens.

Hitting the lone button on the small bland square computer activated the binocular Heads Up Display Joe's model was equipped with.  Some text flashed by as the computer booted and synchronized with the computer Joe had retrofitted to the old Chevy.  Up popped semi translucent tachometer, speedometer and NOS gages.  Joe preferred the style of gage used in the elderly game Wipe Out, it matched the graphics on his LCD stereo readout.  Sensors on the cars hood and doors fed information into his HUD to visually enhance possible obstacles.  Most modern cars had HUDs built in, but Joe couldn't justify the windshield projector since he had the pair of clarks.

Joe looked around a the wireframed objects on the street scanning for cops.  He attracted alot of attention with his Chevy so a little patience was advantageous.  Joe tapped the screen on computer and made an arching thumbs up motion to his computer in the range of his clarks.  A symbol shaped like a double clef flashed by.  He turned the black knob on his 80s car stereo and on came static followed by a few clicks and then the Rolling Stones.  Joe Mashed the gas and he HUD tach shoot up to red.  He couldn't hear the tires squeal over the music and his exhaust.

Joe scanned for cops as he drove.  He was cranking along the Southern state parkway at about 75 mph.  The backward pitches designed into the road had made the Southern State only local parkway whose speed limit was not raised from the once mandatory 55 mph.  Speed traps were more common, the local police were harder to fund since the SOB Railroad line was opened.  Lots of people use mass transit locally now, so the police have to work harder to meet once reasonable quotas.  Blue blobs occasionally flickered as the car HUD computer looked for bush covered reflectors, cb traffic, or radar signals on the roadside.  

Joe always enjoyed taunting the turns with his old Chevy.  Hearing the engine revolve as he drifted around the turns was a another world from his job and his worries.  It as the fact that he built this car that really did it for him.  It was the feeling of a job well done that made the grease and sweat worth it.

Joe's horizontal and mental drift were interrupted by the double beep of his cell phones ringer.  Joe straitened the wheel, and reached for his phone and the radio at the same time leaving no hands for the wheel.   When pinning the phone between his head and ear Joe lost part of his HUD view as he stared around the edge of his glasses.  Joe answered the phone.

"Hello, I'm driving here"

"OK, here's the deal."  Mark Blurted, "We are going over Amans house.  Lucy is meeting us there"

"OK" 

Joe saw a blue blotch flicker in his lens, his driving knee twitched as he hit the brake with his other foot.

"You mean your crazy cousin?", Joe asked sounding a little worried.

"He not crazy...", the sound of Marks voice fell out of range as Joe let the phone drop to the seat.  He reached for the wheel as drove by the shiny black car parked on the roadside, very slowly.  

"Mark Hold on, cop."  Joe uttered through his teeth as he tried to look casual in his loud multicolor muscle car.  "Mark what hell are you hanging out with that guy for.  You know homeland security has gotta be watching him"  Mark drove around a turn out of and sight of the cop as if he were a hundred and three.  "I don't really feel like being watched.  I'll get busted for something."  Joe reached down for the phone and lifted it back to his ear.  He heard Mark fade back in.

"...just because he is a physicist from Iran doesn't mean he's a bad guy.  He showed me this great little computer he been writing programs for and..."

Joe cut Mark off, "Mark wooa I have no idea what you said hold on, hold on tell me when I get there.  98th right?" 

"Yea" Mark sounded a little hurt that Joe missed his rant.

"Alright I'll see you..."

Just then a loud bang.  Joe lurched forward and back.  The steering wheel lurched and Joe straitened it.  A second bang as the camero's rear end passed over the Gapping pothole launching Joe off his seat a second time.  Looking in the rear view mirror, Joe saw the monster.  It was four feet wide and at least one deep.  Joe's heart was pounding and Mark was yelling.  Joe glanced at his face in the rear view to check for damage and none seemed obvious.  "Holy crap!"  Joe exclaimed to Mark, "That was a pothole."

"Are you alright?  Holy crap I heard that here."

"When are they going to fix the frigging roads.", Joe said sarcastically.

"I'll get off, see you later", Mark said.

"OK later.", Joe pushed the button on the phone and lowered it to his seat.  Joe's heart as still racing.  He almost smashed his head on the wheel, that was too close.  Joe felt embarrassed and angry.  He felt embarrassed that Mark must have heard that fear in his voice, and angry that the condition of NY was deteriorating.   Weird that the object of his anger, was something his employment very much depended on.  The damage the poor roads inflicted on people's cars was vital to his lucky livelyhood.  Shouldn't he feel differently about it?   He was profiting from the decade of lackluster government budgets, but the unemployment rate did not make him feel any less frustrated.

Joe unmuted the volume and heard "Another one bites the dust" by Queen.  The perfect music for his car, he thought.  Same era, same attitude.   Joe shed his fear and accelerated again.  He began to dream of his latest creation, looking for ways to shave it's weight down.  He thought about drilling three 4 inch holes in an over-engineered torso support.  He could compensate with a triangular cross brace.  It would work but it would be ugly.  But would it clear the hip servo?  Click.  Maybe not... click.  Joe suddenly realized the click was not part of his daydream.  Joe recognized a familiar fear, the regret of facing another repair on this old car.  Oh damn, Joe thought, I must have damaged the car.  Click, click, BANG.  The car lurched.

The steering wheel was no longer responding.  Joe easily heard the sound of scraping metal and screeching tires.   The wheel was hard steering back and forth as remaining tie rod tried to convey Joe's counter steering to the other tire.  A strange calm came over Joe as he tried to compensate for the random action of the loose front tire.  The Camaro swung sideways with the horrible screeching noise all four tires make.  Joe looked for headlights or headlight markers but just got a red X on his clarks, the cars computer didn't know what to look for when sliding sideways.  Joe looked out the drivers side window and saw another giant pothole.  Then a crunch and bang simultaneously, the unforgettable auto accident noise.  Joe felt himself smash into the window as the rear of the lifted in the air.  He knew he was done for.  The car was beginning to roll.

Joe woke up coughing black smoke out of his lungs.  A small flame flickered out of the hole cut in his hood.  He knew he hadn't been out for more than a few seconds, because he had woken up at all.  Blood was running into his eyes.  He had only seconds.  He moved his legs and arms, they still seemed to function.   He unbuckled his shoulder harness, and climbed under the buckled roof and out the missing passenger door.  He felt the broken glass cutting his hands as they scraped along the seat, trying to push him out of the burning car.   Staggering away he pulled his broken clarks off.  "Where is the phone.." he mumbled to himself scanning the ground.  He absently reached in his back pocket, then his coat pockets.  He couldn't think strait anymore. Joe collapsed to the ground.   He knew he was going to die.

\chapter{}

I smell glass cleaner.  No wait, not glass cleaner, ammonia.   Joe stretched his arm to scratch other.  Why are my sheets itchy?  Who's cleaning around me?  Joe listened.  It's really quiet.  I hear a machine, maybe a computer?   Joe reached across his chest to scratch again.  A bandage..  

Joe remembered everything. The accident came back to him in more detail than when it happened.  The song, the clicking part about to fail, the pair of giant potholes.  Joe remembered all the blood running in his eyes.  How long have I been out?

Joe wiggled his toes and his fingers.   I don't seem to be paralyzed he thought.  My limbs respond, if they aren't phantoms that is.  Wait, I walked away from the car.  It was on fire.  Oh crap I loved that car, it was demolished.  Joe began to try to visualize the damage to the car.  Joe began to take stock of the damaged parts and how he would begin to fix them.  Oh wait, he thought, what if I'm blind?

Joe opened his eyes.  The light was intense.  He squinted and tried again.  His vision was snowy but at least his eyes worked.   He was afraid the broken Clarks might have damaged his eyes.  Joe's vision began to come into focus.  Everywhere he turned his eyes his vision was speckled with pepper.  Little gray spots.  Joe heard voices in the hallway.  One was his aunt.  In a childish moment, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"You don't have that right.  Life and death, is subject to a higher morality."  it's not like any damage was done."  Joe recognized his aunt's whispering voice.

"This hospital participates under a specific auspice." Joe heard a man say not so quietly.  The man had a southern drawl.  "Our research effort counts on the limited funds alloted to this project."  

"Don't cry poverty to me." His aunt shot back, "You people have more money than you know what to do with.  That boy is like a son to me, you would have done the same thing for your daughter.  The need was real and immediate."  

Their talking about me Joe thought.  He immediately felt a little anger towards the man who spoke to his aunt like that.

"OK, OK I believe",  the strange man paused, "I believe I can convince the committee that any risk of exposure is a risk of a public debacle."   "I think that they will see that as far to risky to end the project here. What you do need to disable them immediately, and you do need to be far more careful with other people's property."

The man paused and then said, "I will expect full analysis and data.",  as his voice faded and echoed.  He was walking up the hall.  Joe heard a shoe squeak.

"You foolish child."   Dr Graceland whispered startling Joe, she was closer than he thought.  His aunt saw Joe's eyes blink open.  "You're awake."  She proclaimed, suddenly ecstatic.

"Yea barely" Joe mumbled.  

"I have to call your father"  Joe's aunt was brimming. 

"I'm glad I'm alive too... I though I would die for sure."

"How do you feel?"

"Lousy, and my eyes are grainy.  You aren't going to give me a speech are you?"

Dr Graceland chuckled.  "No Joe not this time."

Joe thought about the accident again.  He grimaced a little.

"How did they find me?  I don't remember finding my cell phone."

"The explosion."

"The explosion?"  Joe began internally erasing any hope or repairing his car.

"I guess you passed out before it happened.  You're car sent a fireball into the sky."

"The explosion?"  Joe repeated in a gravely voice.  "Oh wait it was on fire."

"A state trooper up the road saw the explosion from his speed trap up the road."  Teressa said.  She drew close to his face and looked very worn.  "If your car hadn't exploded you would be dead."

Joe stopped worrying about his un-fixable car.

"Do you think the explosion damaged my eyes?"

"It's possible."  His aunt reached for her pocket flashlight.  "What can you see?" She shined the light in his left eye.

"I see little pepper specks everywhere."

"It might be....hmmm"

"It might be what?"

"The nanites."

Joe looked briefly confused.

"I have nanites in me, cool!", Joe almost shouted, his eyes widening.

Joe felt excitement and fear at the same time.   A huge fear campaign had aired on TV over the past year.   Government commercials talking about the unprecedented risks of unbridled nano-size machinery in the hands of terrorists.  On the other hand they are tiny robots, which are right up Joe's ally.  Really, Joe thought, who cares about the three letter agencies anyway.

"You'll be sad to hear, I have to shut them off daredevil.", Dr. Graceland said with a strait face.  She reached for a wheeled machine and pulled it toward her.  She flipped a switch on top.

"They're still on?"  Joe asked in amazement.  All of sudden it all snapped into place for Joe.  The nanites must have some responsibility in Joe's good fortune.  That conversation in the hall with the angry man was about the nanites.  It seemed Aunt Teressa must taken a big chance to keep him alive.  Joe's smile faded.

"I'll be right back, I need another machine." Joe's aunt walked out of the room.  
Joe pushed his guilt aside, and began to frequently search around for something to save some blood.  I have to get these to the guys, Joe thought.  He heard his aunt's shoes coming back.  He layed strait in his bed again. His aunt was carrying what looked like a small old laptop with a cable dangling from its hinge.

"We have never had a conscious subject before with active nanotech.  That might be what is causing the distortion of you vision.  The nanites are more dense than natural blood components.  There may be other side effects too."  She plugged the laptop into the device on a rolling cart and a small light flickered.

"So what do the nanites do?", Joe asked hoping to keep things in the present tense.    

Joe's Aunt continued plugging in a few wires and booting the laptop.  She pulled Joe's clipboard off the end of the bed.  She faced him and tried to look serious.  "You need to rest now, I'll tell you more later."  With that she turned, and left the room.  It didn't sound like she wanted any more questions.

Joe head was starting to swim, but he was determined to save a little of his own blood for later.  He spotted his cell phone on the nightstand.  Joe groaned as he reached behind his head.  He pulled the phone to himself by the extended antenna.  The phone beeped off as Joe clicked the cover off of the rear of the phone.  He flipped it and poured the colorless alcohol fuel cell contents under his pillow.  The alcohol smell was making him sleepier. 

"I hope this works", Joe mumbled to himself.  He held the empty cell container to the wound on his other hand.  he pulled the bandage away and aggravated the gouge with his fingers.  I must be loaded up with coagulants, Joe thought, as a few small drops slowly dripped into the cell.  

Joe quickly clicked the cell back into his phone and reached behind himself dropping it on the stand.  Joe let himself feel the pain as he pulled his arm back to his side.  He was tired.  Joe lay still with his eyes closed, waiting to hear his aunt return.
\chapter{}
"You can't wake him up."

"Why not, he's already been awake.  They let us in here."

Was Joe dreaming? He heard middle eastern accents all around him.

"Do you want to make him sicker?"

I know that voice, Joe thought.

"No, I guess you're right", Mark uttered.

"Where am I? Pakistan?", Joe wasn't going to let his friends have one more moment of sympathy and pity for him.

"No New Iraq, and you're our prisoner.  Moo ha ha!", Mark claimed with his best announcers voice.

"I though so. I wake up hearing all these scary accents, and I wasn't sure what I did last night."

Another voice said, "Mark you don't even sound scary." 

Joe recognized the voice.  The other person in the room was Aman.  Joe looked through the doorway for feds.  Obviously they didn't arrive yet, Joe thought sarcastically.

"Hey how's it going Aman."  Joe blurted out his voice wavering a bit.  

"How are you feeling?"  Aman said.

Aman was in his late twenties.  He was shorter than the unusually tall Mark.  Perhaps a little nerdy looking.  But his dark skin, and deep accent gave him away as a Iranian or at least someplace close by.

"I feel worse, than yesterday."  Joe said.

"Oh so you were awake.  Why didn't call man were sunk without you.  It took me two days just to install the new hip servos."

"Two days?" Joe mumbled.

"Yea what you think everybody is some kind of mechanical superman?  The program for the servos is tied to..."

"That's not what I mean. I was out for two days?"  Joe sounded confused.  "What day is it?"  

"Tuesday."

"How long has it been?"

"A week and five days."

"What?  I felt fine two days after."  Joe started sounding angry, "Why the hell have I been asleep for a week."

"You're aunt said you are very bad, and that you almost died, twice.", Mark was talking in an even calm voice.  He seemed to think Joe was getting to agitated.

"Twice?", Joe mumbled.  His head was spinning.  He definitely felt worse than the other day.

Joe was staring at Mark when he realized his head was no longer surrounded by grey flecks.  I almost died the second time when they shut the nanites off.  Wait, the phone... Joe snapped his neck back and forth and saw the discharged phone sitting on the end table.

"Some complication.. what do you need?" Mark said, watching Joe.

Joe reached up to grab Marks arm, but stopped short when he yanked the tube in his arm.  Joe grimaced when he saw a little blood drip from the needle in his arm.  

Mark figured that Joe was beckoning him closer and cooperated.  Mark's eyes widened in an involuntarily sympathy as he dipped his head.  

Joe hardened his resolve beyond mere pride, he leaned up and whispered in Marks ear.  "My cell phone, take it home and store the blood in the cell in the fridge.  Don't mention this to Aman." Joe relaxed his raised neck and looked relieved.

"Huh?  Do what?  What are you delirious?", Mark looked deeply concerned.

"He probably is.", Teressa Graceland said as she strode in the doorway.  "Perhaps it was too soon for you boys to see him."

Oh no, Mark cummon do as I told you. Don't say anything about the phone. Joe as practically projecting his thoughts. He stared intently at Mark, trying to look as stern as possible.

"Why don't you let him rest and come back tomorrow.", Dr Graceland grabbed the tablet from his footboard and was glaring at Joe's vitals.  The graphs were moving erratically.

Joe felt his heartrate going through the roof.  If his aunt knew about the extra blood she would surely make it worse for both of them with her honesty.  Just take the phone, Joe thought.

Mark walked past Joe's aunt and grabbed the cell off of end table.  Dr Graceland gave Mark a strange look.

"Joe asked me to please check his messages.  I need the password off the scratch pad.", he plunged the phone into his pocket.

Dr. Graceland and Joe's faces relaxed.  "Oh. Ok.", she said.

Joe let himself feel the exhaustion creeping in.  Looking at his friend he said "Thank you Mark.", and closed his eyes to sleep.

Joe's vital waves slowed their pace.
\chapter{}
"Dad, I'm going over to Lucy's.", Joe announced as he strode through the spartan kitchen to the table where Joe's father was sitting.  

Joe's father looked up at him through a smoky sunbeam.  His brow furrowed, deepening the lines on his forehead.  "You sure you're up to it?"  He asked in a deep scratchy voice with a slight Brooklyn accent. 

Joe was staring at the smoke whisping up from the cigar sitting in his fathers ash tray.  Joe snapped out of his trance, and said, "Yea I am.  I have to go out again sometime."  Joe was staring at the long ash on the cigar again. "I can't be afraid to live."  

"I may not be here later.  I expect you will call me if you have any trouble"

"Do you have an interview? or work?", Joe asked.  He knew his father wasn't sensitive about unemployment.  He was hardly alone being jobless.

"No, I going down to have a beer.  I've had enough today.", his father eyes looked as if he had.  "Sometimes you can just feel when you are wasting your time, in your gut."  Joe dad put his hand on Joe's bicep, "My gut tells me good things about you.  You're tough as nails."

Joe replied in a deeper voice,"Thanks Dad.", He turned and walked from the room.  Joe did not see his dad look after him though his cigar's growing cloud.

Joe clicked the screen door shut behind him.  Joe loved his dad but could not spend to much time with him.  It was not in his nature to provide the level of emotional support his dad needed.  Joe wondered if his dad would ever get over the death of his mother.  I know I won't, he though.

Joe had arrived at the near by house.  Joe reached up and knocked the wrought iron door knocker.  The metal clank piercing the silence around him.  The wooden door creaked open an inch. 

"Oh hi Joe.",  Lucy uttered groggily.  She rattled the chain and pulled the door fully open.  "I fell asleep.", she said pulling her dark brown frazzled hair from her face.  She stumbled back inside and Joe followed her.  She turned around and hugged Joe, "I'm so glad you're OK."

Her warm body distracted him from his earlier distressful thoughts.  Joe thought it felt good to be touched.  He had not felt a woman physically comfort him since the crash.  He returned the hug.

"I'll be right back and then we'll go.", she made sure to let go of Joe before talking to him.  

Joe sat down and watched her leave the room.  Lucy was 27 years old, not that you could tell.  She was a convincing teenager, of medium height and athletic build.  She carried herself out of the room in a femine lighthearted way, swimming a little in her light loose shirt.  Joe knew better, she was a focused mature woman.  Joe was sure he would never let himself have feelings for her other than friendship.  She wouldn't want it any other way.

 A minute later, she strode in the room donning her blue "The A Team" shirt.  The shirt was read "The Team A" on the air, after they officially changed the name after cyborg wars producer got a nasty call from a lawyer claiming trademark infringement.  They ended up sarcastically correcting the announcer every interview.  As a cheap shot, the announcer read the words in order every interview.  The truth was they were to busy to print more T shirts.  Their elaborate plan turned into Team A's very own trademark of sorts.  Joe was surprised they hadn't been told to stop.  Joe said half aloud, "We had better keep winning, or we'll have to make new shirts."

 Lucy fumbled in a desk drawer by the door.  Gritting her teeth she pulled some keys on a stretchy chain out the overflowing drawer.  "OK lets go." 

 "Were you planning on going to the shop?", Joe said a little perplexed by the shirt.

 "No, we really need to go soon though.", she glanced the A on top of her breasts, "Cyborg wars have been pretty accommodating but they can't keep us out of the lineup past next week."

"Crap" Joe muttered.  He began to recall his train of thought in the carthree weeks ago.  He began to imagine the cross member supports again.

Lucy saw the telltale idle stare. "Worry about that stuff tomorrow.", she said.

Lucy was being sensitive or motherly.  Joe couldn't decide.  He tried to snap out of work mode.

"Lets go.", Lucy suggested.  

"Where is Filly, isn't she comming?", Joe looked at Lucy out of the corner of his eye.

"I left her at her grandmothers last night.  I need a break."

Joe thought it was a little strange.  The crew like answering Filly endless questions, and she liked watching the the team build stuff.  She wasn't a troublesome kid.   Mopeing a little Joe lead the way out the door. 

Lucy clicked the button on her key chain and the lights blinked on a black van across the street.  Joe heard the engine start.  They climbed in the shinny windowless van.  Lucy clicked on her broadcast radio.  A love song came on the radio.  Nothing Joe recognized or cared for.  Lucy began driving, and Joe flipped through the stations. "Damn I hate the radio.", Joe muttered "Internet stuff is better."  

"Then why do you turn it on?", Lucy asked.

"I dunno.  Hope maybe.", Joe remarked.

Joe clicked the tuner button and stumbled onto the weather.  "Today it will be sunny and 41 a little cool and clear tonight at 32 degrees...  ...In Seattle, 46 unruly protesters were arrested today, 12 were held on charges of disrupting a police investigation into potential terrorist activity."  The voice changed "When we tried to arrest the suspects for breaking and entering, 35 students attempted to physically block the law officers..."

Joe drowned out the quiet radio.  "The radio announcer can't even count today...", he sounded frustrated.

Lucy looked over at Joe and smiled "I wonder...", and suddenly slammed on the brakes.  

Joe looked up to see a man in front of the car tight dirty clothing staring right at Lucy.  The man tried to look surprised, but looked too calm for belief.  The tires finally stopped screeching a few feet before the man.  

"What are you trying to kill me?", the man yelled.

"Uhh .." Lucy was speechless.

"What do you think this is buddy?  Huh.  A free lunch?  I saw the look on your face."  Joe knew it was an attempt at a insurance scam, abet a painful one.  The man may have even wanted to steal the van.  It was not uncommon.  He leaned out the semi open car window and stared the man down.  His eyes widening and his knuckles turning white.  

After a moment assessing Joe, the man stormed away.  Joe continued to stare at him as he quickened his pace to a jog.  Joe had learned to communicate physically in way he could not with words.

"Quick! what where you thinking?"  Lucy asked.  "You could have gotten us killed."  Lucy was clearly shook up, rarely called him by his nickname.

"There were two guys behind the shrubs around the corner, and the look on his face was just not right.  I thought it might be an ambush.  If I called more attention to us I thought we would be a harder target."

Lucy looked at him briefly.

"Lucy, I could be wrong, but I had to trust my gut.  If I'm wrong no big deal but if I was right..."

"OK.", she was convinced.  "I'm glad you were here."  Lucy pulled away from the intersection. 

"There have been a lot of desperate people lately.", Joe was trailing off.  "Lucy"

"Yes", Lucy was busy getting onto the parkway.

"Why did you decide for us to form a team.", Joe was thinking aloud.

"I guess it was my gut.", Lucy emphasized the word my, "You seemed focused on the mechanical aspects of robotics."

"You mentioned something about men, ambition, and competition.", his voice sounded weak and unsure.  "How do you see me.. as a friend?"

"Sure Joe.", Lucy was relived he didn't say something awkward.

"No really." 

"Really Joe.  If you want to quit the team, I understand.  This is risky business for you.", Lucy tried to look sincere.

He paused.  Joe hadn't even considered quiting the "A" Team.  Not only did he need the creative output for his mechanical abilities, but it was was less dangerous than his day job. 

"Thats not what I meant.  I need the money, and it's easier than Sun Auto." Joe paused, I have to trust her.  What choice do I have, he thought.

"Would you drop the team for me?"

"Why?", Lucy was immediately shocked. It was obvious she felt unwanted.

"No, it's not like that.", Joe paused. "I did something crazy." 

"Yea you flipped you car, blew it up and almost died twice."

"No.... Yea... That last thing.  Don't you wonder about that?"

"What?", Talking to Joe was as non-productive as usual.

"That I almost died twice." Joe muttered sheepishly.

"Your aunt said it was complications."

"The complication was they shut the nanites off."

Lucy eyes widened.  "They put nanites in you?  They have medical nantites? I thought they could only be build for a vacuum."

"So did I.   This guy told my aunt to shut them off.  But before they did I stole some by draining my blood into my cell phone."

Wide eyed, Lucy paused and then asked, "...where's the phone?"

"Mark has it."  

"Holy crap." 

"Yea."

They both sat and soaked in the repercussions.    

"Mark's gunna flip.", Lucy started.

"We have to be careful.", "Aman is crashing with him.  I don't trust him not to actually start some Jihad with them."

"No me either. He needs to much acceptance.  He isn't sure of himself.  Like he might say to much if he opens up."  Lucy paused again, "Quick you rock!"
\chapter{}
The door to marks apartment opened. "Holy shit, Joe you are the coolest Guy on the whole planet." Mark exclaimed.

"Cool right.", Joe shared in Marks amazement.   Mostly Joe was amazed that Mark knew already.

"What are you guys talking about?" Lucy asked hesitantly.

"The nanites.", Mark exclaimed smiling.

"Uh how did you know?", Lucy asked pointedly.

"Impressive, I never told him.", Joe said to Lucy.

"I've seen them.", said Mark.

"What? How?", Lucy asked.  

"A microscope, duh."  Mark said childishly.

"How big are they?", Joe asked.  

"About a tenth the size of a red blood cell in a ball shape.  They look really far out."

"Wow cool." Joe exclaimed.

"Do they do anything? I'm not even sure why they were in me."  Joe said.

"Why don't we go inside instead of broadcasting this to your neighbors?", Lucy half whispered.

"Oh right yea", Mark said sheepishly.  

Joe and Lucy followed Mark in.  The living room was decorated in tan and red colors.  There were many rugs and intricate carvings in the furniture.  A grey stone budda looked over them.  After Mark closed the door, Lucy turned to him. "Mark, where is Aman?"

"He is over at the shop..."

"Thank God.", Joe exclaimed.

Lucy sighed, "Good than we can talk about this now."

"He knows.", Mark said, "He is at the shop trying to bring them to life."  

Joe and Lucy looked at one another.  Joe reached up and held Marks shoulders, "Why did you tell him?"

"He's cool Joe.", Mark uttered. 

Joe couldn't even tell if Mark believed himself.  Lucy and Joe were staring at mark.

After pausing a second Mark turned to Joe, "I know you guys don't trust Aman.  He pretty mysterious about things we share, but I believe he is a good hearted guy.  We would have been up the creek without his knowledge.  I told him what you said, and he stopped me.  I wanted to put the blood in the fridge and he suggested that was not a good idea until we knew what we where dealing with.  He looked under the microscope and thought we were looking at a gigantic virus.  He called somebody and we pick a ST Microscope out on the Island to look at them"  Mark began to lose his composure.  "It's so cool, the nanties have these little recessed squares, they have to be..."

"I'm still not seeing how he saved us Mark.", Lucy was less intent, but still didn't look convinced.

"He stopped me from following Joe instructions.  We experimented with a few nanties and put them in the fridge.  It's great for blood cells but it destroys the nanites."  Mark looked at Joe, "They break into about 15 pieces. Looks like they were designed to fail if they get to cool.  We've been keeping them at 98 degrees ever since."

"Oops.", Joe was turning red again.  "In my defense I was a bit delirious." 

"Point taken", Mark said.  Mark looked at Lucy.

"OK well I guess we can't make him un-know.", Lucy turned up the corner of her mouth in a half smile.

"One small problem.", Mark said, "They don't do anything, maybe they were just being used for data collection?"

"Even then they would need to be powered and to communicate..."  Joe stared blankly for a some seconds, suddenly he looked up.  "I think I know why.",  Joe returned to his catatonic state, trying to recall his faded memories in the hospital...

"OK want to share?", Mark asked sarcastically.

"No.", Joe matched Marks sarcasm.  "I think my aunt turned them off.  That's why I almost died."

"Oh...", Mark paused "How?"

"A Machine.", Joe muttered staring intently.

"And gee I thought it would be a sacred dance.", Mark was smiling.

"Hey why not.  Doctors definitely don't have enough fun.", Lucy said.

They both looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"It could be done that way with.. nanties.. in.. the. eyes.  What?", Lucy stumbeled

Joe cut in, "There was a paddle... attached to a wheeled machine with a screen, and a laptop."

"A defibrillator on low power!", Mark exclaimed. "Who's the man. Who's the man"  Mark began do dance around the room.

"Watch out, you'll turn them on.", Joe laughed.

"So lets see them.", Lucy said smiling.  

"OK we need to get over to the shop.  Wait let me call Aman and tell him how to turn them on.", Mark changed direction three times.  He walked out of the living room and emerged with a phone.  "Hello Aman.  You turn them on with a low power difiburlator and some kind of laptop signal current control thingy.... Yes I'm sure... That's what Joe saw from his bed.  OK we'll be there soon."  Mark hung up the phone and proclaimed.  "Aman is going to try some basic signals with current.  This is going to be so cool."

"Don't you think you might fry them if you send to much power out?",  Lucy asked.

"Na, Aman's been separating them one or two at a time to experiment with.  We must have ten thousand in that sample.", Mark sounded confidant.  "Lets get some lunch."

"Sounds good to me, I'm starving.  Joe said."

Lucy looked deep in thought.  "You know, I think you are a little off Mark."

"Yea so?" Mark reached for his keys.

"A difibulator is still way to powerful and to simple to turn down the current down that much."

"Should I call Aman back?"  Mark put his keys back down.  He walked toward the phone.

"No. But will need to stop at the store on the way.  We need a chip and probe.", Lucy uttered.

"What did they use on me?" Joe asked, tring to read Lucy's face.

Lucy touched her stomach.  "One paddle, not two right? And a big screen?"

"Yea, that sounds right."

"It sounds like a ultrasound machine."  Lucy lead them out the door.

\chapter{}

Joe looked at Lucys troubled face as they drove.  It was obvious to Joe Lucy was concerned about Aman, but could they do?  They could ban him from working with the nanites, but who is to say he didn't stow some away for later.  No they would have to let him play around and watch him.  Mark's dedication to his family seemed outside common sense.  Mark lacked the emotionial quotent or imagination to realize the anger the people of Iran must have with Americans and America's most recent war.  Aman came here out of anger and/or the instinct to survive, not to satisfy curiosity and a thirst for adventure like his Indian cousin Mark and his parents. 

Aman is exactly why the Feds were started their witchhunt on public use of nanotech, thought Joe.  Allah must not be allowed a perfect bloodless vengance on that scale.  I must be really selfish, Joe imagined.  Taking a risk with a world full of lives so I can play with yet another robot.  Joe felt ashamed.

Joe looked up and noticed the sun was gone, obscured by endless clouds.  Joe was gazing up into the gray sky as the black van pulled through the ten foot fence.   The sight of the drab warehouse on the endless blanket of concrete felt good to Joe.  It meant independance and prestige.  Lucy parked the Van and shut it off.   With the moist cool air weighing on them, The A's started their march towards the the main door.

A nuron fired in Joe's brain.  He had seen movment out of the corner of his eye.  Joe whipped his head around peaking the interest of Mark and Lucy.  

"What?", asked Mark.

Joe stared at a distant building beyond the fence, "I could swear I saw somthing move over there."

"Probably a tumbleweed, that warehouse is very out of business, missing a roof, lacking windows...", Mark said sarchasitcly.

"It's somebody having sex!", Lucy joked.

"It's still daylight.", Joe mumbled.  Distracted and serious he turned on his heel.

Joe began to run.  His team looked on as he ran top speed toward the building.

"Damn he's fast.", remarked Mark in his jovial Indian accent.  He turned to Lucy shrugging,  "I guess he really wants to see live sex."  They turned and walked toward the shop door.

Joe was quickly approaching the building.  He ran through a weed covered parking lot, losing sight of his friends.  He slowed as he approached the far corner of the delapitated concrete and brick building.   Peering around the building Joe saw a distant figure wearing jeans and a dark jaket.  The figure was hustling toward a newish Black Lincoln Towncar.  He squinted as the large man opened the drivers side door.  As the man got in the car his jacket lifted, he was wearing a gun.

Joe's moderate breathing hushed to a whisper.  He pulled his head back around the corner, and stared to stare into space. Joe reasured himself, it must be an ordinary police car on an unercover patrol.  He looked around the corner and did not see the tell tale siren lights.  I had better get the plates in case I need them later.  Just then the Towncar started and it's wheels began to spin.  Joe turned around the corner but it was to late, dust and smoke from the cars tires obscured the licence plate as it sped away.

Joe jogged into the shop.   His eyes adjusted to the lower light and he could see the vast clutter and equiptment lining the walls.  He scanned through equiptment and half finished 5 foot robots for Mark and Lucy.  He spotted them by a computer at a small desk near several tall black servers.  Aman was sitting at the computer.  Aman was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and his large beard stuck out either side from behind his head.

Hearing his footsteps in the silent room, Mark turned around.  "Oh hey Joe feel better?  Where they doing it or just kissing?"

"Ha Ha very funny.", Joe said in his Brooklyn accent, "It was a guy with a gun getting into a Towncar."  Joe realized just how casual he sounded.

Marks face dropped, like he suddenly realized somthing.  "What?, Was it the cops?  Did the he see you?"

Aman turned to face them.  The muscles in Amans face flexed showing his age. 

Joe regreted saying somthing so hastily.  

Aman spoke solid english but with a heavy arabic accent,  "That sounds like every taxi driver in New York city."  Aman looked at Joe as he said it.

Joe began to speak as if he could not stop himself,  "Anyone you know?" Joes face visably turned to a grimice.  He just thought of a hundred reasons he shouldn't have said it.

Aman said sarcasticly, "So Joe, should I ask you that too?",  "How did you get these?  Is it legal?  Did you build them yourself?"  Aman knew it sounded rediculous.

All eyes turned to Joe. "The're probably not totally legal, but they've gotta exist to be illegal right?"  Joe grinned, acting proud of himself.  He was tring to change the mood.

Aman kept a strait face and continued to stare at Joe.  "How did you get the one thing that everybody wants but are impossible to build?  Where did you steal them from?"

"My aunt asked me to look at them.", Joe still wore a hopefull but fading smile. 

"That's why they were hidden in you're cell phone?  That's why you don't even know how to turn them on?", Aman looked little angry.

"Who asked you anyway?"  Joe's venomous look began to creep over his face.  The two men glared at each other.  Lucy's eyebrow was rasied.  Mark looked nervous.

"What shocks have you tried?  Any luck?", Mark's accent sounded jovial compared to Aman.  He was looking nervously between the two other men.   Joe decided it wasn't worth the risk of seeding the gurillea army of Aman's choise and turned away.  I need coffee, Joe thought.  He walked to the far side of the shop.

Aman turned to Mark.  "I believe you were wrong.", Aman said matter of factly.  "I did the math on voltage not harmful to the host and I believe few nanites would be reached this way.  I tried many patterns of signal with plain DC current but no reaction occoured.  Most non-vaccum nanite plans I found on the net use ultrasound to talk.  I need an audio transmiter and microphone to continue.  I found a program that might work with some changes."

A stone faced Lucy dropped a white plasic bag on the table.  "Used ultrasound paddle."  She turned to Aman but spoke loudly to indicate Joe as well "Bought with cash for the extra parinoid."  Aman looked at her as if she had sprouted horns.

Joe turned his head from the coffee machine and smiled.  He was cerain Aman was not used to being admonished by a strange woman.  Welcome to Long Island, he thought.

Mark began quietly discussing the poor choise in molecular bonds in plans Aman had found on the Internet.  Lucy strolled over to Joe as the discussion accelerated into long strings of letters and numbers.  She recognised it as molecular bond technobabble.  

Lucy grabbed her mug from the sink nearby.  "Joe you have to cool it.  He's in now don't make him crazier."

Joe looked curled his upper lip inward to indicate he understood.   He poured water into the top of the dirty instant coffee machine.  Joe whispered, "We're screwed, he's going to turn around and kill us all with this stuff."  Joe lowered his eyebrows.  "I understand some simple physics and chem, but I won't be able to keep an eye on him.  Even Mark doesn't understand half of what he says."

"Maybe we need to tell your aunt.", Lucy suggested.

Joe was clearly stressed. "No way Lucy, you had to hear the way this guy told my aunt to shut them off.  She would defiantly be fired and then nobody will have money comming in.  My pops still can't find work and I can't help him enough."

"Which guy?"  Lucy asked, pausing. "Oh right you told me about him with the southern accent."  Lucy's face lit up.  "Well why don't we mix it up then?"  Lucy paused, "We need to bring someone else in."

They both stared into space listening to Mark babbleing.  "How about Kento? err I mean Bob." Joe suggested.

"Are you sure he would be cool with it?"  Lucy asked.  "I haven't talked to him in a while."

"Lucy are you kidding? That guy could talk to me for 2 hours about one 2099 comic."

".....O..K", Luck indicated confusion.

"There have been lots of refrances to nanites in 2099, and I just talked to him a couple of months ago."

"He's a processer designer right?", Lucy asked

"Well last I checked a laid off one.  Not alot going on in chips at his pay.  He should be able to keep up with Aman.", Joe shuffled to the nearby filthy window and peered out the corner.

"We should ask Mark first.", Lucy stated.  Joe nodded his head.  

Joe looked Lucy in the eyes, "Lucy, my clarks were destroyed the crash, can I use the house glasses?  With my pc?".

"Joe you don't have to ask me every time you want to use something that doesn't look like scrap.  I wouldn't have funded the team if it had to be like that."

"Don't worry, you guys are gunna make us rich.",  Lucy smiled a crooked smile.  "How are you feeling?"

Joe was feeling a little weak but did not admit it. "I'm fine now that I have clarks again."  He smiled,  "I was going through withdrawal."  Joe looked over at Mark,  "We need him alone."

"I'll get him", Lucy vollentered.

Joe paused, "Wait, I'll get the clarks and show him the latest Kamakaze plans."

"Won't Aman want to see them too?"  Lucy wondered.

Joe looked over at Aman and Mark.   Aman was squinting and furiously typing and Mark was sitting on the bench next to him disecting the ultrasound wand.

"Naaaa."  Joe smiled widely.

Joe poured himself coffee into a green mug with the faded name of a long dead .com.  He wanted to let Lucy know he was serious about the man with the gun outside, but he decided it would be better to save it until Mark was there too.  

He walked over to the bench next to their robot testing area where the clarks were resting.  Joe donned the clarks and connected them to the computer he still had in his jacket pocket.  He pulled the small computer out and strapped it to his arm.  After touching the screen the LCD on the units body lit up and he was back where he was at the crash.  He pulled case out of his pocket and removed a pencil like wand.  He ran the cord hanging from it through the wrist band of his watch and plugged the end into his arm PC.  He twisted the wand and small air flow and mercury sensors indicated, combined with the input from the clarks cameras indicated the movement to the computer.  He much prefered the wand when his hands were free because it was far more accurate then the mounted cameras estimations of his commands.

The clarks screen lit up and displayed a classic 2d web browser on 4 sides of a 3d cube.  He spun the cube to choose a side and locked it in place with another movement.  He droped the wand and began to type in the air directly in front of him.  Not nearly as many characters appeared as finger movement indicated.  He would have spend some time on a tedious typing calibration with these clarks later.   Frustrated, Joe clicked on a series of links and began to read.  

Satisfied with the page, Joe picked up a small box from the top of the monitor on the bench beside him.  It had the image of red lips printed on one side.  He the lips to the LCD screen on his arm PC.  Grabing the dangling wand Joe made a swift hand motion and the monitor lit up with the latest revision of plans of the kamakaze rocket.

"Cool" Joe delieberatly spoke a bit louder than before.  He looked over at Mark and he was looking in Joes direction.  Aman was not.  "Mark check this fuel pump design on kamakaze."  Mark stood up and predictably walked away from Aman and toward Joe.  

Mark looked at the schematic for a minute, and said "Joe, you hadn't seen this?  It's three weeks old.  Oh wait, I guess you wouldn't have."

"I must have missed it before I had the wreck.", Joe lied.  

"I don't think it's any better and it uses point three amps more juice.", Mark declared.

"It saves 2 pounds in heat sheild weight.", Joe offered.  Joe looked over at Aman as Mark stared in to the monitor.  He saw Lucy had strolled over to them with her coffee.

"Hi guys, Kamakaze again?", Lucy asked.

"Yea, catching up."  Joe lied.  

Mark looked up at Joe and Lucy.  He cocked his head.  "Somthing's not right here.", He looked right at Lucy.  "Why are you interested in the Kamakaze?"

Lucy stared at Mark trying to read him.  "Fine be that way.", Lucy smiled to hint she might be joking.  "Mark we want to bring our friend Kento in on the nanites."  Lucy choked on the last word.

"Who is Kento?",  Mark quiried in an unusually flat voice.

"He's a Buddy of mine from school."  He's older than me, he's 24.  "He was a senior in my freshman year, we had shop together..."

"Ok but why him.",  Mark asked.  "What is in it for us?"

"He's a jobless chip builder..", Joe started.

Mark jumped in, "OK sounds good too me, but I want to meet him before I agree first.  I want to make sure I can talk to him."

"Uhh errr OK."  Joe was surprised, "That was easy.  You think Aman will be OK with it?"

"Does it matter?", Mark shrugged.

Maybe Mark noticed Aman's anger more than Joe thought.  He saw Lucy smile.  Joe looked back at Mark and saw Aman over Marks shoulder glancing their way.  He absentmindedly uttered, "No... I guess it doesn't."
\chapter{}
Joe was walking through the hall of a hospital wing.  An assortment of patients were strewn about the floor moaning and wailing.  Many of them looked pale, almost bloodless.  Joe walked over crawling patients towards an open door a light flickering from it.  There was a pile of bodies.  Doctors and nurses, clearly murdered were still in there blood stained work uniforms.  A single florescent light dangled from the ceiling flickering.

Joe heard a rhythmic pair of sounds both ticking and rumbling.  He looked at the source of the sound.  The far wall of the room had full size windows, but nothing was evident in the night.  Actually nothing at all was evident at all through the windows but a perfect blackness.  Joe wanted to get a closer look but was afraid of the growing noise.

The window wall exploded.  Glass flew all about and the flaming concrete structure fell into the room and then back out again.  Daylight streamed in framing the silhouette of a helicopter.  The dark green Apache attack helicopter hovered in place, missile launchers nearly full.  Joe's heart stopped in fear.

Joe turned and ran up the now empty hall, reaching an open daylit window at the end of the hall.  Joe wanted to jump out it.  He knew he would be safe if he jumped. Yet Joe couldn't take the plunge.  It was too crazy for him to jump out of a 20 story window.  A phone on the wall near Joe began to ring.  Joe stared in confusion, not sure why the phone didn't belong there.  He reached for it..

In a start Joe woke up.  Sweating.  The phone next to his bed was ringing.  After it rang a few times Joe picked up.

"Hello", Joe asked in a hesitant gravelly voice.

"Joeee, I got your messgae, how are you holding up?", a strange voice asked across the phone.

"Uh, uh, OK... Considering everything.", Joe began to gather his thoughts.

"What, you you alright man?", A boyish man at the other end of the phone asked.  "I haven't seen you on NYN in a month.  Cyborg Wars is nothing with their A team.  Those bastards didn't kick you off because of the whole A team thing.  You think Hollywood would move on and not harass you guys!  All that's left is lawyers and some guys making geezer movies.  I read that their total connection rate was down this month." 
"No not yet.", Joe replied smiling.

"So what is this everything of which you speak.", the gleefull sarchasic voice asked.

"Do you have an interview today?",  Joe asked.  He felt his stomach sink as he thought about how awkward this sounded.  He looked out the window of his room in his fathers house, feeling embarrassed and childish.

"Na nothing lined up... so be it.", he sounded no less chipper.

"Can we meet for some coffee?", Joe asked.

"Cool man lets do it.  I'd love to catch up." 

"OK how about today?", Joe was nervous he would say no.

"Sure but I've got to shower, I've been training and boy do I stink."

"What are you up to now?", Joe asked.

"5th degree, and brown in karate too, but your so quick you probably take me anyway."

"Don't wanna try Kento."  Joe replied.

"I can meet you in an hour at our cafe on Sunrise Highway.", Kento suggested.

"Sounds good.  See you there.", Joe said.  

"Goodbye for now ha ha ha.",  Kento did his best to imitate a maniacal laugh as he hung up the phone.

Joe sat listening to the dial tone. He didn't usually have bad dreams.  What as that all about anyway.  Dead doctors, opaque windows, explosions, pale zombie patients were an unusual setting and cast for Joe night show.  I have stop taking afternoon naps, Joe thought.  His thoughts were interrupted with instructions on how to use a telephone blaring in his right ear.

Joe pressed the button on his receiver.  He dialed quickly while glancing at one of his band posters hanging from the slanted ceiling.  Joe stared at the musicians leaning against a wall under a bridge.  

"Hello?", Lucy's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hi", Joe said sheepishly.

"Joe hows it going?  Are you comming down to the warehouse today?"

"Maybe later?", Joe said uncertain.

"Did you talk to Kento?", Lucy asked.

"I need to borrow the van."  I'm meeting him over at the cafe.", Joe stated.

"Oh.",  Lucy said squarely.

"I won't crash it Lucy.", Joe said as seriously as he could.

"Are you sure your ready, I could drop you off."

"How would I get back?  He rides, remember?"

"Oh", Lucy repeated herself.

"I guess I could work from home today.  You had better get him on board."

"Hey, I talk smooth.", Joe joked.

"Yea right." Lucy wasn't impressed.

"I'll see you in a few.", Joe said smiling.

"OK Filly we be happy to see you." Lucy said.  Her smile could be heard through the phone.

Joe hung up the phone and quickly put some sneakers on.   He husseled downstairs anctious to see Filly again.  His father was sitting in the living room with his checkbook and a calculator.  

"Hey Joe", His father said in a gravelly smokers voice.  "You owe me three hundred dollars. I'm sorry to ask now, but the taxes are due."

"No problem Dad.  I'll have it for you next week.", Joe stated.

"I need it tomorrow."

Joe began to wonder when he became more responsible than his dad.  If his dad drank his sorrows away less, perhaps he wouldn't need to lean on him.  Three hundred was so little nowadays,  maybe it would pay for one night at the bar.  Oh, Joe thought, his heart sank.  His dad was totally gone.  Joe felt anger building up in him.  Joe was glad it was time to leave.

"I might be able to get it tonight.", Joe lied.

Joe headed for the front door, frustrated he couldn't tell his dad how bright his future looked right now.  Joe felt a little lonely.

"Good night son.", His dad looked distant and heart broken.

Like his fury wasn't bad enough.  Joe's personal emotional roller coaster took a dip of guilt.
\chapter{}
Joe zipped his coat tight as he walked through the chilly evening.  He shuffled past a small strip of stores as he transversed the blocks to Lucy's house.  Joe thoughts wandered to Kento's experiance.  He worked on the final generation of general purpose computing chips at Charles Peterson United, before Morre's law broke down.  Joe had no idea what Morre's law was before it's end was widely predicted.  Anyone who followed business or science news quickly learned, learned the hard times were directly the fault of those ambitious projections.  It funny though, Joe thought, those same channels praised Gordon Moore just a few years ago.  If only they could fabricate chips beyond the safe harbor of a vacum.  Joe walked wide eyed thinking of the depth of their discovery.  He was in it now...

"Sir do you have a fifty..",  A strange mans voice called to Joe.

Joe looked, it was a homeless man hidden in shadow sitting beside the last store.  Perhaps he was squating in the dark boarded and abandoned 2 story house next door.  There was a conspiqous hole in the six foot fence between the properties.  The man looked clean but scruffy and old.  The reminants of his jacket and dress shoes and slacks looked worn 3 years to many.  

Joe thought, perhaps that was his house at one point.

Saddened Joe walked toward the man.  Making sure to keep himself in the light in case it as a trick.  Joe couldn't face his aunt if he got hurt in an attack.  Joe pulled out his wallet and handed the man a twenty and seventy dollar bill.  The man took the money and smiled graciously.

"Thank you. I can eat tomorrow."

"Every day counts", Joe said smiling.  Joe asked "What happened?"

"It's those Iranian bastards.", "They killed my son in the war.  They ruined me, our life.",  The man said.  Anger was changing the shape of his eyes.  "What do you care you look like you got easy.  You think this is easy?  Where was your family?  Huh?" 

The man began to stir and straiten like he might confront Joe.  Joe began to back away.  He turned his back on the man an hussled away, ignoring his furious rant.  That was a mistake, Joe thought.  Sobriety isn't always sanity.

Joe arrived at Lucy's in a another minute.  He opened the door and called inside. "Lucy you home."

A pair of small eyes peered around the corner.

"Did I see somthing?", Joe wondered aloud.

Joe heard a child laughing.

The eyes reapeared, disapeared just as quickly.

"What was that?  A troll?  A goblin?  A toad?", Joe mused as he walked inside.

More laughing.

"Boo", Finny jumped out.  

"aaahhhhh", Joe yelled "It's you Finny.  I was scared!"  

"No you weren't.", Finny laughed some more.

Joe walked over and picked Finny up kissing her on the cheek.

"Hi cutie."

"Hi, I missed you uncle Joe."

"I missed you too."

"Hi Joe", Lucy walked out in her nightgown.  Her form was accentuated by the silky nightware.  She pulled a tericloth robe over her shoulders hiding her breasts and slim waist.

Joe couldn't totally hide his subtle attraction to her.

"I'm doing laundry.", Lucy said.

"Oh right.", Joe turned away embarased by his own boyish ways.

Finny noticed all this going on from Joes hip and was delighted.  She was grinning from ear to ear.  "Joe can you stay and play."

Joe went to open his mouth but Lucy interupted.

"No honey, he has stuff he needs to do.", Lucy shot Joe a sly look.

Finny stuck her lip out and hugged Joe.  She looked him in the face.

"Mommy is right.  I have to meet another friend.  I promised him I'd play today."

"I don't call her mommy anymore."

Joe looked confused.

"I call her mom.",  "I'm a big girl." 

Joe thought about telling Lucy about the run in with the homeless man.  He decided against it.

Joe kissed her cheek and put her down.  Lucy grabbed the keys from the top of the night stand.  "Joe you know how weird this whole thing can get.  Be careful.  Don't just spill it."

Joe grinned. 

Lucy frowned.

"Bye kiddo.", Joe said.  

"Bye Uncle Joe.  We have to play sooon.",  Finny was restraining herself.

"I promise.",  Joe smiled back at them and walked out the door.

Joe walked toward the Team van.  Man, I have remember to date, Joe thought.  I'm turning into such a nerd.
\chapter{}
Joe noticed Kento's motorcycle as he pulled up the the cafe.  It would have been fluorescent, being bright yellow, were it not covered with scuff marks and dirt. It was a five year old touring style bike, looked a bit like a cruiser, but with a more hunched over position for the rider.  Joe couldn't help thinking Ken was worse off than he let on seeing the vehicles apparent mileage.  

Joe parked Lucy's van in front and walked inside.  The cafe was a diner converted into a coffee shop.  It was dimly lit and had comfortable mismatched chairs and couches scattered all around.  Joe tapped the screen on his arm computer three times and the clarks blinked the driving HUD off and a series of colored arrows pointed to every visible person in the room.  A small green triangle pointed to Kento's figure.

Joe smiled at a waitress as he walked toward the back of the cafe where kento was sitting.  Kento was tall and slender.  He had dirty blond short hair that he wore long in the back.  He was wearing loose blue and red clothing that looked a bit like silk and his collar was sticking up.  A slender arm band computer and a pair clarks were laying on the table.  Kento turned his head.

"Joe! Long time no see."

"Kento. You're fashion has improved.", Joe joked in a gravely voice.

"And you're mastery of expression in the English language has not.", Kento smiled.  

Joe pulled his clarks off.  He was blushing.

"So what's the new robot going to look like?  I heard on the net Cyborg wars might disallow spinners and wedges.  You'll need a more humanoid design."

"Where did you here that?", Joe's jaw hung as he mumbled.

"I have my sources."

"I have to kill you now.",  Joe smiled.  That is hardly my biggest secret, Joe thought.  "Nice computer."

"Oh yea a genuine unreported CPU perk."

"Figured you stole it."

"Hey I helped design the thing I should!", Kento was indignant.

"I guess I'm kind of lucky I don't think they'll have a waterproof case for out for another year.  Designed the prototype myself.",  Kento looked proud.  Perhaps dramatical so.

"Remember when you stole Baker's tire filling gage from auto shop?  He freaked out.  How many times a day did he say it was rare?", Joe said with a big grin.

"Yea that was nothing.  How about the time you wired the windshield washer pump to the interior light of that old Cadillac.", Kento retorted laughing.

"He was completely soaked." Joe was roaring with laugher.

"I thought that vein on his forehead would explode.", Kento tried to compose himself.

They both laughed for a minute. 

A young brunette waitress took their orders.  Joe ordered coffee, Kento ordered tea.

In a low voice Joe said, "Kento, I need your help.  My team is working on something."

"So you need robot help from the Kempo master.",  Kento was clearly still feeling silly.

Joe looked Kento in the eyes delay serious and whispered.  "We stole some nanites."

Kento chuckled in a loudish voice.  "Nanites?  So did Indonesia and the Philippines, big deal.  Don't look so serious..."

"Joe patiently waited for Kento to stop smiling.  He did.  Joe whispered, "Non-vacuum nanites."

Kentos smiling eyes straitened.  "They don't need a vacuum?  Not even temperature controlled?"

"Not only that.  They're blood nanites."

"What?", Kento sounded seriously surprised, he was looking around and whispering.  "They exist?"

"They were in me."

"In you?"

"Alot of them."

"How? Why? Joe this could be serious trouble.", kento's voice sounded different, more adult.

"If you want me to stop, I can.", Joe said.  What was Kento thinking?  Was he going to turn him in?  Perhaps he wasn't the same guy Joe went to school with.  Kento stared at Joe, eyes darting, mind racing.  

Kento's strait faced stare broke into a boyish grin.  Joe knew he was in.

"OK, How did you manage to get the one thing that Homeland security has effectively banned and every molecular physicist says is impossible for another ten years."

"I nearly died."

"That sounds about right."

"Well I destroyed my car.  It blew up.  I was almost dead.  My aunt is part of some project and injected them in me."

"Wow. Good thing you went to her hospital. When did this happen?", Kento was wide eyed.

Joe touched the emergency medical bracelet on his wrist.  He knew he would have to tell Kento, just not yet.  "It was about a three weeks ago."

"Can I see them?",  Kento inquired.

Joe decided to fill him in on the Aman situation. He told him about the friction between Aman and the rest of the team.  He expressed his fears about an ongoing Jihad. The waitress stopped at their table and dropped off their drinks.

"Don't worry.  I can run circles around a theoretical physicist."  

"I hope so.", Joe was sure he could, well pretty sure anyway.

"So are they in you right now?", Kento asked.

"I don't think so.  My aunt shut them off after she got a talking to.  I hid some blood." 

"Where?", Kento inquired.

"In my cell phone fuel cell."

"You slick bastard.",  Kento was grinning again.  He sipped his tea.  "You said you're aunt shut them off.  Have you turned them on again?  What exactly did they do?"

"We haven't turned them on yet.  We're not sure what they do.  They are definitely machines though."  

"How big are they?", Kento asked

"About one hundredth of a blood cell.", Joe answered.

"Wow, so..."

"Excuse me.", a girls voice asked.

Joe's heart jumped.  He turned his head and looked at the girl standing beside him.  She was about five foot six and had brown hair dyed blond with a blue streak.  She looked Indian.  Had she overheard?  What did she want.

"Are you Joe Vallone?", the girl asked with a with a weak Long Island accent.  She looked about sixteen.

"Maybe?", Joe choked a little.

"Well, she and I watch cyborg wars, and we always root for your team, and she likes you and thinks you are totally hot."

Joe looked over at her friend.  She was also about sixteen years old with strait black hair and looked halfway between Indian and oriental.  She covered her face.  Joe looked and was immediately felt attracted to the slender girl.  He felt goosebumps on his armhairs.  No, Joe thought she is way too young, at least mentally.

Kento was hunched back in his chair covering his mouth.  He was clearly laughing.  Joe was blushing.

The girl pushed a pen and pad in front of Joe and said, "Could you please, please sign this to Amy Sue from Joe Vallone."

"Uh OK", Joe grabbed the pen and signed the pad 'to Amy Sue from a completely embarased Joe Vallone'.

"Oh wow thank you so much, I can't believe you wrote her a personal message.  She's a chicken so here's her number in case you want to hang out or something, and I think you should because she is really nice."  The girl turned and said, "Oh and my name is Anna."  She smiled a broad smile at Joe and hurried back to her fetally positioned friend.

Joe looked mortified at Kento, he was laughing harder than ever.  "You always had a way with the ladies."  

Joe grimmiced. "You want to go to the shop tonight?", Joe asked changing the subject.

"Do I ever, I've been out of work for six months.  I'm going nuts.", Kento was still grinning.  "I don't know where it is so I'll have to follow you."

"No problem. It's on the north shore.", Joe replied.

"Actually, do mind if I drop the bike off at home?  It's getting pretty cold."

"No problem.", Joe replied.

Kento smiled at Joe.  Joe shook his head.  He wasn't going to live this down for a while.
\chapter{}
The sun was setting as Joe waited outside Kento's apartment building.  Joe watched nervously through the windshield of Nancy's van as a group of warmly dressed kids in their late teens and twenties, drank from bottles covered in paper bags.  Joe eyes danced between multi colored arrows indicating where each individual was and their direction and speed of movement.   The arrows where all pointed strait down, but Joe eyes would not be fooled if that changed.

A new color arrow appeared pointing towards the young men and Joe turned his head to include it in his view.  Kento opened the front door to the building and walked strait towards the youths.  One of the kids noticed his approach and alerted the others, their arrows stirred like warming molecules.  Kento also observed this and quickened his pace toward them.  Joe absent mindedly reached for the baseball bat he kept in the back seat in his old car.  Joe turned around and reached around the floor of the van for a weapon of some length.  He settled on a 2 ft socket extension jammed under a tool box.   I haven't seen my aunt for my clot shot yet, I can't get hit, he told himself.  I hope Kento can handle this, Joe confessed.  Joe leaned up and opened the door in one swift movement.  He looked up as his left foot hit the ground.  Kento was walking toward him, backwards.

"OK, thanks.  I owe you", Kento said to the kids.  The kids found this uproariously funny.  Kento turned and strutted toward the car.  Two of the larger young men waved.

Joe embarrassed sheepishly sat back down in the drivers seat.  Kento was kidding around.  Joe tried to subtlety wedge the 2 ft socket extension behind his seat as Kento got in the van.  Kento looked over and saw the weapon as he reached for his seat belt. 

"You thought I was going to fight them?", Kento looked amused.  

"Well, yea.", Joe said reluctantly.

"Those are guys from the neighborhood.", Kento said like a proud father.  "I thought them everything they know."  Kento observed Joe's frazzled look.  "You should come too Kempo too.  With your speed you could be very dangerous."

"It's not that simple.", Joe looked deeply distressed.

"It's no different than track.  You're strong and coordinated, it should be a breeze.",  Kento tried to sound reassuring.

Joe thought about how much he ached before he started running at school.  If he hadn't been a natural runner and athlete, he never could have succeeded at all.  He wondered how much faster and stronger he would have been without his weakness.  Right now Joe hated being alive.

"You always stepped up to fights but you don't finish them.  Why do you hold back?  You should be a natural.",  Kento said as a matter of fact.

Joe shot a look at Kento.  He was obviously angry.  Joe stuttered quietly, "I'll email Mark to be at shop."

Joe double tapped the LCD on his arm computer.   The Cube desktop returned in the center of his vision and Joe hand motioned to the email side and began to type in the air.

Kento sat in silence.  He watched Joe out of the corner of his eye.  In a few seconds Joe's rapid typing was complete.  He tapped his computer screen once again, and without saying a word, started the van and drove away.  Joe drove in silence for a few minutes, dwelling stonefaced on his misfortune.  I should talk to Kento, Joe thought, it's not really his fault.

While Joe as thinking about what to say, Kento spoke to Joe as he got on the Long Island Expressway.  "Joe I'm sorry, we're all different now.  We are different people now than we were then.  I was cocky bastard back then, I have learned alot."

"Kento that's not it. I'm different.", Joe looked sincere and remorseful.

"You always seemed like a normal guy to me.",  Kento said smiling.  

"I have a condition.", Joe mumbled.  Joe held his arm out to Kento, his medical wrist band dangling.

"What? You?", Kento asked.  Kento did not seem to understand that the medical bracelet was meant for him to read.

"Nope...", Joe's eyes darted to the side of the road.  His arm slowly reaching back for the steering wheel.

"What?"  Kento squinted as they rounded a bend.

An old pale blue Toyota was parked on the side of the road, it's parking lights where on and flames here flickering out of the open hood.  Two men looked scared and where yelling at each other.  A dark skinned man without a jacket lay on the edge of a bridge hill, cushioned only by decaying leaves.  He looked unconscious.

Joe suddenly flashed back to his accident.  "We're stopping.", he asserted.  Joe checked the rear view and mashed the brakes to pull over in time.

"Joe, I don't know if that's a good idea.", Kento said weakly.

"Call the cops.",  Joe didn't know if Kento had a phone, but he hoped so.

The van came to a halt.  Joe was reaching over to put the van in park.

"At least back 50 ft away so we can escape.", Kento said nodding eyebrows raised.

Joe looked at Kento with confusion.  He realized he hadn't even considered it could be a trap.  Joe tried to calculate the situation as he quickly backed the van up some distance.  No, Joe thought, we have to help in case it's real.  The view of jacket-less man was blocked by the burning car but still in his mind.

Joe slammed the gearshift into park.  Grabbing the keys, Joe followed Kento jog toward the two men.  Joe heard the two men yelling as they approached.  

"If your car wasn't such a piece of shit, I wouldn't need my phone.", The first man yelled at the second.

The second man, red in the face yelled back, "You forgot your phone you need to run for help!"

"He'll be dead if we don't find his pills!", the first man retorted.


"What happened?", Kento yelled as he jogged toward the lying man.  

"We think he's having a heart attack.", the first man said.  "When the car caught fire he grabbed his chest and fell over."

"Wave a car down.", Kento said looking strait at the second man.  "I don't have a phone."  Kento pointed at the first man, "You find his pills."

Joe jogged up behind Kento.  The man on the ground was in his late thirties and fit.  That's strange, Joe thought, he looks to young.  Joe crouched over the man and held his hand over his mouth.  "He's still breathing", Joe said.   

The man opened his eyes.  Joe saw him swing his arm up to grab his shoulder.  Joe rolled backwards over his shoulder and stood up as the man jumped to his feet.

"Still quick.",  Kento said to Joe grinning.

"You ain't given me no C.P.R.",  The dead man said to Joe.  He had a deep Spanish accent. "Give me the key to your ride."

Joe's heart was beating hard now as he crab walked for a better position.  He asessed the other two men.  They where of moderate build, in poor shape, and unarmed.  Kento stood strait and calm giving nothing away.  He was about two feet next to the pill man.   Joe smiled, they didn't have a chance.  "You and what army.",  Joe said in his usual gravelly deep voice.

Joe heard a loud whistle and turned his head toward it.  Six figures appeared at the top of the hill.  They were all larger than the other five men.

"That army", the dead man bragged grinning.  He threw his fist at Joe.

Joe easily leaned back avoiding the telegraphed fist.  Everything was moving in slow motion.  He saw Kento out the corner of his eye.  The Pill man lunged at Kento.  Kento moved aside and used his hip to pivot the man head first into the car's bumper.  

Joe saw movement out of his left eye.  The man must be throwing a second punch, Joe thought. As he swung his body the other way to avoid it. Joe felt time slow even more.  The adrenal gland in the top of his spine began pumping out chemicals.  Joe felt fury overcome him, as the adrenaline charged through his veins down his back and arms, small hairs standing up along the way.

Joe was pissed.  Really pissed.  You bastards, he thought, I won't die because I tried to help you.

Joe moon leaped backwards a step as he saw the phone man change direction and hurdle towards Kento looking at his comrade.  The dead man reached out some distance to hit Joe.  A wicked smile came across Joe's face, eyebrows pointing down and lips curling up.  Joe hunched down and spun on his right foot.  His left foot swung through the air.  First hovering fully extended just above the ground.  Eventually his foot pulled up and in as arched up through the air.  The heel of his right boot stuck the man in the temple.  Joe felt the dead mans head give as his roundhouse kick made contact.

His momentum not slowed by the mans skull, Joe pumped his right leg in to accelerate his rotation and jumped in the air.  He pulled his left boot up just in time to strike the mans head.  Blood spattered out the mans mouth as he and Joe fell to the ground.

Joe broke his fall with his bare hand on a patch of grass.  Joe felt the pressure as his hands absorbed his full momentum.  Joe feet cleared the man and landed beside him.  Joe pushed himself up onto his feet and looked around.  The men were running down the hill in slow motion.  They were mainly looking in Kento's direction as they ran, puffy winter jackets swinging.  Several of them had knives and threaded pipes brought to bare.

Joe turned toward Kento and saw the phone man lying atop the body of the pill man.  Joe smile turned crooked as he imagined the second man falling for exactly the same hip throw into the bumper.  Scanning the car, Joe saw somthing through the open door.  A bat tucked under the drivers seat of the burning car.  I'm not ready to die, he thought.

Joe hopped over the body of the victim and sprinted as only he could toward the side of the little blue car.  He reached in and grabbed the bat that must have been meant for him.  He spun to see the men closing in on the ever calm Kento.  Joe reached his right hand across his shoulder and double tapped his computer switching his clarks to human vector mode.  Meaningful arrows appeared pointed this way and that.  An arrow pointed strait down on the victim.

He wasn't getting up.

Joe swiftly crab-walked around the mob now stabbing and swinging at Kento.  He swung his aluminum bat full force at the biggest mans head.  The man's head gave but he didn't stumble.   He swung around wielding a knife and bleeding from the ear.  He started towards Joe as Joe backed away easily keeping the distance.  The men swung and stabbed at Joe trying to circle him, but Joe was quicker, backing off and maintaining a bubble with his bat.  

One of the men swung at Joe with a pipe.  Joe felt it tap his rib through his leather Jacket.  Joe suddenly realized his own mortality.  A single bruise could immobilize him for a week.  The adrenaline was beginning to wear off.  Joe scoped a clear path back towards the hill where it all started.  I have to get some distance, he thought, I'm going to get hit again.

Joe took a swing towards the man closest to the road forcing him back.  Joe sidestepped to his left and ran back towards the hill where it all started.  Joe looked at Kento dodging and weaving his assailants.  One of the three was laying motionless on the grass.  The other two looked tired and moved very slowly. 

Joe heard a horrible noise.  A series of rhythmic tire screeches and thumping.  Joe turned to ruckus as he ran to see an eighteen wheeler screeching to a halt on the opposite side of the road.  Two cars leaned on their horns and screeched around the huge truck at the last minute.  As the truck bounced one final time the door swung open.  At large hairy man hung out the door wielding a shotgun.

"What the Hell is going On HERE?", The man yelled in an ear-busting crescendo.  He pumped the shotgun, aimed it in air, and let one shot ring.   

Joe was dumbfounded, he stopped running and turned to see the distance he had put between him and his attackers.  They had stopped running and turned as well.  Looks like they don't know what to do, Joe thought.  Neither do I.

"Let's go man.", one of the men yelled turned running.

"Cummon lets get out of here.  He's crazy man.", another ran toward the trees.

"Were gone man.", another turned and ran for the hill.

The trucker calmly surveyed the fleeing assailants from the perch of his trucks cab. Joe looked at Kento and Kento shrugged.  Joe and Kento walked back toward the van. stepping over the unconscious bodies of their felled enemies.  Joe looked back to the trucker to yell in thanks and saw him close his door, apparently satisfied.  Joe yelled thank you to the trucker but he was already pulling back into traffic.  He didn't seem to hear.

Joe grabbed Lucy's keys from his pocket and then noticed the gravel indents in his hands from his fall.  His hands did not bruise this time.  Joe pulled his shirt up as he walked he looked at the rib grazed with the pipe.  No bruise there either.  Joe sighed. as he opened the van's door.

Joe looked at Kento as he closed his door.  "I thought you had a cell phone.  I was crazy to rush in there.", Joe said apologetically.  

"Are you all right?  You were great back there.  We had them dead to rights.",  Kento smiled.

"It was stupid.  I got mad, stopped thinking.",  Joe wasn't smiling.  He started the van.

"You had total control.  You had them running in circles.", Kento was recalling the fray.

"I could have been killed.",  Joe said distracted, anxious to get away from the scene. Joe put the van in gear and inched up to merge into traffic.  He looked over his shoulder, then looked Kento right in the eye.  "I'm a hemophiliac.  We probably should have called the cops.",  Joe started pulling away.

"I did.", Kento said, looking at Joe, "They never came."
\chapter{}
Mark was new to the drive to beat the other team, before joining the A-team that is.  Rewriting the small driver to read their robots gyroscopes was not about self image or pride.  He programmed to expand his understanding of accomplishment, not for the accomplishment it's self.  Competition had always seemed a bit barbaric to Mark.  He had lead a life of moral privilege, and desired to continue it as long as he could.

His mind began to wander off his task.  He much preferred the smell of incense over machine oil.  The stew of olfactory chemicals seemed to pull him from inner peace.  He loved his work with the A-team, but he did it for the experience and money, not for emotional stimulation.  Mark dwelled on his childhood vacations in India.  His family could create a whole other world, and Mark would use to escape and learn about himself.   

When did Aman start trying to beat me, Mark thought.  When did I indicate to him that I would crush, insult, degrade, or otherwise ostracize him if I activate them first. Perhaps Joe is right, Mark thought.  What hell keeps a man focused for three days strait?  

Mark glanced over at Aman's now scraggy beard.  He was hunched over his borrowed computer terminal and several pads of paper.  Mark wanted to contribute more to the process, but every time he tried to cooperate with Aman he grew impatient.  I need to get another one of those microscopes, Mark thought.   He wished his cousin would rest and give him a shot at cracking the nanites.

With his brain sufficiently relaxed from his mental break, Mark walked to the cyborgs naked base.  The base consisted of to tank style treads and a mess of wires, batteries and motors.  He flipped a switch in the mess of wires and the base sprung to life.  It wiggled left, right and left again to indicate that all as well.  Mark walked behind his bench and typed a command at a strange blinking prompt on his screen.  The base began traveling around a blocked off area in a seeming random fashion.  Printing a matching pair of fractional decimals on the screen with each turn.  

As the routine drew to an end, Mark felt his spirit lift.  He had done it.  Two gyroscopes down, one hydraulic to go.  Mark couldn't hold back the grin.

Joe and a strange skinny man burst in the door.  Mark felt the cold draft as the wind swung the door shut.  So this must be the chip guy, Mark thought.

"Joe, I see you have brought the man with the power.",  Mark said in an announcer voice with little accent.  Mark shuffled to the door, tying to hide his excitement from Aman.

"Mark, meet Kento.", Joe grumbled in his usual deep voice.

"Nice to meet you", Kento spoke as if on a job interview.  He reached out to shake Marks hand.

Mark shook his hand.  He seems well adjusted, Mark thought.  He seems confidant.  If there were such a thing a chi, he'd be brewing with it.

"Joe I got the gyroscopes programmed.",  Mark felt the grin returning to his face.

"You have to see this.",  Joe cut mark off.  He started walking toward his workstation.

The smile lept off Marks face.  Was Joe obsessed with the nanites as well?  Mark didn't think he could cope with any more super competitive people.  His internal emotional damage control as already at full throttle. 

Joe saw the look on Marks face.  "We were attacked."

"Holy crap again.  It's getting crazy out there.  People are so desperate.  What the hell do they do with our money?",  Mark stumbled.  What was I thinking.  Joe doesn't want to beat me.  I must be losing control.  Mark heard a clang as Aman got up.  He was staring at them.  He walked toward the group.

Mark felt embarrassed, he distraction damaged his concern for Joe.  "Are you you guys OK?"

"Yea.",  Joe mumbled.

"I called the police,  but they never came.", Kento stated.

"They may come now.", Aman stated, almost unintelligible between his thick accent and his scratchy voice.

"I doubt it.", Kento looked somber.  "One of my students is jailed for murder in a fight the police never responded to.  His only crime was effectivly defending himself.  The prosecutor insisted his fleeing the scene proved intent.  None of us make the mistake of subscribing to a cell service anymore.  I use disposables and pay with cash."  He pulled a cell phone the and separated fuel cell from his pocket.  He tossed them in a nearby garbage can.

"You are smarter than these two.", Aman said with as little scorn as he could muster.

Joe stopped typing into the keyboard on his desktop computer, and stared Aman in the eye.  "What'd you say?"

Oh shit, Mark thought here it comes.  Mark went to say something, but Kento jumped in first.

"He's right Joe.", Kento said coolly.  "You act with too much haste.  Control your temper and revert your anger into improving your restraint.  Victory is in the mind."

He's pretty cool, Mark thought.  I think I like this guy.

Joe looked surprised and defeated, his shoulders slumped.  He turned and typed a few more keystrokes.  His monitor blinked and the roadside battle from his clark-eye-view camera began.

The men all watched with rapt attention.  

Kento's words rang in Marks head as he watched the fight.  I wonder if Kento knows about Joe's disease.  He watched Aman out of the corner of his eye.  I guess they will have to find out if we ever want to use these things.  "Joe you are so quick, we should put this to a hyperbeat song. All I see are those guys reacting."

"I'ts four frames a second.", Joe said. "See Kento's pile of bodies."

The truck screamed into view, and the trucker fired his gun.  The men ran off.

"Wow", Mark's mouth was open.  Mark reached over Joe and paused the recording.  He shuttled backward until the trucker was in plain view.  "Wow what a great guy.  Shotgun trucker.", Mark paused looking lost in thought. "Send me this video."

"OK", Joe said staring at the image of the mystery trucker.

Aman walked away from Joe's bench and toward his messy pile of papers and the microscope.  Kento looked in his direction and then followed him.  Mark caught Aman glancing over at their absent gaze.  He can't think we are watching him.  Mark turned to Joe, "Now, will you checkout the gyroscopes I just hooked up?", Mark purposefully sounded a little childish.

"Yea OK.  I should work.",  Joe absentmindedly uttered.

They shuffled over toward the pen containing the robot base.  Mark hit a couple of keys beginning the sequence once again.  Mark strained to hear the conversation across the shop over the whining motors.  The routine stopped, leaving Mark with nothing to say.  Mark was relieved when Joe chimed in.

"I have an idea.",  Joe said, looking tired.

"OK?", Mark said.

"How about a second pair of arms?",  Joe hopefully suggested.

"What about regulations?", Mark said.  "Aren't we supposed to be getting closer to a human form?  Isn't that the point of the new rules?"

"I think it's legal." Joe said.  "The rules say only human style arms, and tracks or wheels for feet."

"So it's legit because it's a human part, there are just more of them.", Mark sounded excited, "Joe you're a genius.  Two could grapple and two could attack!  But what if they disqualify us?"

"We can make them detachable.",  Joe seemed to be expecting that.

Marks brain was whizzing with possible attachment points and remote control changes when Aman passed by.  Mark was so distracted he was briefly shocked by Amans proximity.

"I'm going home, Robert's in charge.", Aman mumbled in poor English to Mark. He was visibly exhausted.  He went to the back of the shop to get his coat and keys.  Kento was reading through Aman's numerous disorganized notes.  

Aman has completely lost it, Mark thought.  He's imagining people.  I guess sooner or later he had to give up.  He has been going for 3 days strait.  Mark and Joe walked toward Kento as Mark pondered Aman's strange statement.

They cautiously slid over to Kento, afraid to encourage further domination of the microscope and ultrasound panel.  They looked over Kento's shoulder at Aman's cryptic notes at they heard him close the door.

"I think, Aman is losing it.",  Mark said with some uncertainty, "He was talking about somebody named Bob."

"Oh that's me.", Kento sounded amused.  "I got the name in high school."

"Robert?" Oh that was dumb, Mark thought.

"The dumb kids could say Kempo", Joe smiled, "I think they thought they were clever."

"Oh.", Mark sounded relieved, "So what did they call Joe?"  Joe grimaced, and Kento smiled.

"You don't want to know.", Kento grinned looking at Joe.

Joe stared Kento dead with his eyes, and Mark couldn't help but smile too.
\chapter{}
Nathen Jones, hated groups trips to the gym.  He appreciated the virtues of a good work out, but that's not what usually happened. He and several of his coworkers would stand around and patiently wait for the menace to finish his work out.  The menace would boast and brag as he benched the same hundered twenty pounds as he did every week.  Noone dared best him in athletics, so the whole thing was a giant waste of time for the larger men like Nathen.

After the usual awkard shower experiance, the men would silently reflect on the egotism that ruined their lives 6 days a week.  Scott Conner, the menace, insisted on being naked in the locker room as long as possible.  Strutting around and standing in a pose that seemed almost meant to jut his flopping member further forward than anything attached to his body could be.

The the other men in MI Robotics seemed to suspect homosexuality, but Nathen knew better.  Scott did this to intimidate and unnerve the other men.  Surprise, shock and deprevation, presented the best opportunities to instill fear and loyalty in other men.  The menace shouldn't need time in the service to recognise singluar aspect of surprise. Yet, while continully unerved, nobody was caught off gaurd any more.

Nathan and the other men followed Scott to the check out counter at the base gym.  Scott bragged to the young woman solder manning the desk. 

"Two hundred and sixty pounds. That's how much I could bench in the service days.", he said in a southern drawl.  He murmurred, "If I didn't spend so much time in pointless meetings I'd be bettering that right now."

"Yes sir.", the woman stated coldly.

"You know my company is very important to the service.  We have brokered over 12 major contracts and earned the marines 14 billion in patent revenue alone."

"Of course sir.", The engaged woman replied.

Scott continued as the men dropped their towels in desk mounted hamper.  "That uniform you're wearing was paid for by one of MIR's carbon catylist patents.  You'd be naked without us."

Nathen grimmaced.  Only a civilian could get away with such talk.

"Thank you sir.", the belegered woman remained resolve.

"Well I have to go chat with the joint chiefs", Scott said with a twang.  "I hope we can talk again soon."  Scott quickly walked away.  

Nathen missed his daughters and longed to be home.  After a sleepy morning of Saturday cartoons, they would be playing outside with the neighbors or their mother.  If he was back home in Chicago, they would be throwing snowballs or making snow angels.  Nathan was lost in thought as he walked.

"Ciselly, you and Laurance go to the shop and payrole the new design from DCR.  Give Michaels a call and get his ass over here.  Jones you're with me for the chiefs."

"Yes sir, we're on it", Ciselly said sounding releaved.  They immediatly walked toward the parking lot.

"Jones go change and meet me at at thirteen hundred hours and fourty five at their office."

"Yes sir", Nathen stated weakly.

Nathen walked toward his temporary quarters.  When he arrived he changed into formal business wear.  Nathen looked at his watch and decided that he had time to call his wife.  He walked to the nightstand and dialed the phone.  As the phone he stared out the window at the base as it rang.  The machine picked up and four voices sequentially answered.

"Hi you have reached Luise, Emmly, Malinda, and Nathen.  Were not here right now, but please say whatever you like at the beep."

"Hi everybody, I miss you.  I'll call you again tonight.  Somthing came up at work and I won't be home tonight. I'm going to try for tommorow.  Hope you're having fun.",  Nathen did his best not to sound as disapointed as he was.  He was mostly successful.

Nathen hurried out of the apartment to meet Scott at the chiefs office.  Nathen arrived and Scott was waiting.  He was standing in the back of the room reading a legal sized paper.  The spacious waiting room was empty other than the two men.  Scott looked angry.  He walked to Nathen's side and talked to him quietly as they waited. Scott moved his face as close to Nathen's as he could without touching it.

"This breach is you're responsiblity.  This is by far our most ambisious project and you're security framework sucks.  If the chiefs realize how poor you're contingency plan is there wil be hell to pay.."

"But sir I had advised that you initially...", Nathen responded weakly..

"When I want to hear what you think, I will ask.  Now I have to think for you, and who's fault is that.",  Scott's growing vocal anger worsened his now almost unintlligable accent.

"Yes sir", Nathen automaticly repressed his anger and desire to speak.

"I expect that a suffeciently effective quaritine program is ready in case the chiefs so order it."

"Yes sir", Nathen grew more angry every second he couldn't wipe Scott's spittle off his face.  His distant hand gripped into a fist.

"Sir the chiefs will see you now.", a womans voice drifted in from the door to the waiting room.

Scott moved naturally away from Nathen changing to a broad smile, "Thank you mam." He began to walk toward the large double doors.

The office was comfortable and sparce.  It was decorated with wood furniture and moderate colors.  Two large american flags addorned the far wall.  Four men in uniform were waiting at the oppisite side of a large wood table.  As Nathen entered the room the woman closed the door behind him.  

One of the chiefs looked to Scott, "Counsel Conner, what brings you here?"

Scott straitened and did his best to look stateful.  "Hello generals.  MIR has a problem."

"Weren't you starting new trials systems in New York?", The last general asked.

"Yes, a civilian gained conneciousness durring an unplanned trial."

"Unplanned?",  The first general asked.

"His aunt, a doctor, used the oxygen nanites durring an emergency procedure."

There was a brief pause, "So you think he knows what happened?", a general in the center asked.

"We don't know, MIR does not have those resources.", Scott admited grudgningly.

"How long was he awake?", The youngest General asked.

"About a half an hour according to the doctor in question."

"We should not act with haste.", The oldest middle right general said. "This sounds like a non-detremental event."

"We are deeply concerned about the breech.  We do know the man has a technical mind.  There is the remote possiblity he understands what was done to him."

"So we may need to discredit him.", The last general asked.

"Prepare a varity of legal actions against him, council.  But do not act until we can confirm carnal knowladge.", The first general suggested.

"Your permission to treat the subject as a enemy combatant.", Conner stated almost robotic like.  "We would be able to avoid spreading the leak on detention"

"Make sure to focus the charges on somthing else.  Or he may spread the contamination on the way to guantanimo."

"We will prepare a case.  I am anticipating your results."

Nathen was not shocked at what he heard.  He even understood the need.  He was appauled tough.  It was shameful how depraved and indifferent the world had become.  Damn them all for not helping America isolate their enemies.  How many innocents needed their lives disrupted or destroyed, because their was no cooperation to be had.  
\chapter{}
Mark's Toyota was sputtering again.  Why did I have to buy a Japanese car, Mark thought.  At least it's not German.  It's cheaper to get the broken piece referbished while you wait than buy new one.  My dad is livid about the cost of parts for his beamer.

Mark scanned the the parking lot as he aproached it.  He noticed the van was gone but it looked as if a light might be on inside.   Mark pulled the sputtering Toyota over.  He watched the distant activity light on the alarm as he opened the gate.  It failed to blink as he pushed.  Sombody forgot to shut the lights off and to turn the alarm.  Aman went home late last night and his car wasn't here so he couldn't be back yet could he?  There's no way Joe slipped in, he doesn't do mornings, then again neither do I.

Mark pulled his car inside and hurried to the door.  It swung open as he pulled.

"Damn", Mark said aloud.  Frustrated with sombodys lack of care.  

Mark's optic nerve flickered with movement.  He look to his side and nearly jumped out of his skin.  Kento was sitting on the floor indian style with his shirt off.  He was wirey and slim.  He looked powerful despite his light frame.

"Hello", Kento said in a matter of fact fashion.

"Wow, oh, hi.", Marks heart was pounding.  "You still here?  Did you sleep?"

"For about 4 hours on the cot",  Kento said.  "I was just finishing my morning forms."

"K.",  Mark was returning to his groggy morning mode.  "Are you hungry?"

"Nope.  Joe and I ordered in last night.  I saved some rice for breakfast.", Kento sounded awake.  He began to stand up and grabbed his shirt.

"Right, rice for breakfast.  I prefer doughnuts myself.", Mark was amused.  "Did you decipher Aman's notes?"

"Not exactly, but I've done one step better.", Kento donned his shirt while he talked.  Kento walked to the microscope.  Take a look at the two molecules I have focused on.  Kento pointed at the Microscope.

Mark was really excited, but he tried not to act to childish.  He looked at the screen on the side of the microscope.  There were two blobs with a few triangles sticking out of the blobs pointed here and there.  The larger blob on the left was brown.  The one on the right was alternating between blue, green, and red on the edges.  The triangles on the right blob were matching colors while triangles on the larger lefthand blob were seemingly random.

Kento reached down and pressed a play shaped button on an ajacent touch screen.  The blobs started shimmering and wiggling.

"See the blob on the right, that is a simple sugar.",  Kento spoke simply.

The image suddenly zoomed out and sevral more distant glucose molecule blobs were visable.  Then a number blinked into life at the top of the screen and the shimmering slowed to a crawl.

"I slowed it here so you can see the whole thing happen.", Kento was grinning.

Suddenly the triangles in a small section of the brown blob appeared to apear and disapear.  A nearby glucose molecule snapped into the side of the giant brown blob.  Suddenly the triangles stopped shifting, then moved again and then stopped.  They waited for a few seconds and then the glucose molecule was sucked violently into the big blob.  It looked positivly mechanical.

Mark started to understand what he was looking at. "Did the nanite just eat that sugar?"

"It sure did.",  Kento said.

"So you turned it on?", Mark asked?

"Nope, it does it on it's own.  About ten times a day per nanite.  I'm going to need a new set of heads for the microscope.  I had it scanning constantly all night.  The nanites are huge compared to a single molecule."

"Wow.", Mark was truly impressed.  "Does it do anything else?"

"Not yet", Kento lamented, "But this is definatly signifigant."  

"Why?",  Marks brain was moving quickly.

"It means these nanites were meant to run indefinatly.", Kento looked somber.

"...and...", Mark was trying to think why he would nanites to run indefinatly.

"Not exactly the one time use emergancy oxygen suppliers they appeared to be in the hospital.", Kento was speaking patiently.

Mark was frustrtated with his own slow responses.  I'm not awake. "I think I need some tea.", Mark uttered aloud.

"How long can you swim under water if you don't need to breath?", Kento said "How much faster can you run if your heartrate accelerates half as fast?"

Mark looked a little afraid.

Kento looking a bit mad looked Mark in the eyes.  "How long can you be dead before it actually starts to hurt you?"

"Holy crap.", Mark's jaw was open.

"Well said", Kento turned to stare out the window.

They both stared into space for a while.  Shocked by the enormity of Joe's prize from his trip to hell and back.

Mark walked over to the electric teapot and filled it with water.  He focused on the simple task of preparing a mug while the back of his mind processesed the implications of such a find.

"Kento", Mark half shouted across the shop.  "You know whoever this belongs to is going to figure out we have it, soon or later."

Kento paused and said, "Mark, somthing this important can belong to noone.  We are all surely damned."

The door burst open as Lucy and Joe, and Finny shuffled inside.  Joe looked positivly catatonic.  But Nancy and her daughter seemed chipper and alive.

"Kento whats up.",  Lucy asked affectionatly.  She walked over to Kento and gave him a hug.  "You smell.", Nancy grinned.

"What kind of workshop doesn't have a hot shower?", Kento smiled.

"Yea you smell.", Finny chimed in.

Kento looked from side to side, pretentding he did know she was talking to him.

"Hey Joe" Kento yelled.  "You look like you need some coffee."

"uhhhhhhh.", Joe responded.  He trudged toward the coffee machine.  

Mark looking for somthing to do and began to prepare some coffee for Joe.  He was still reeling, thinking about whoever these nanites belonged to.  They would come looking for them.  What was Joe's aunt mixed up in.  What kind of shadowy underworld figures could sneak somthing this advanced around under the govermnents nose in a hospital none the less?

Mark watched as Lucy busied herself settling Angie into her play area.  I don't think I could handle that kind of responsibilty, he thought as he poured hot water in his mug.  He absent-mindedly grabbed a teabag out of it's box next to the kettle.

Lucy has got to see the fight, Mark thought.  Finally Mark had thought of somthing to do other than dwell on his immanant demise.  He walked over to Lucy.

"Did Joe tell you he and Kento were attacked?", Mark asked.

"Reluctantly yes.  I heard he almost got my van stolen.", Lucy did not sound amused.

"I have it on video.", Mark grinned.  "He was amazing."

"OK.", Lucy sighed. "Lets see it."

She followed Mark over to his workstation by the cyborg base.  He played the video for her, Mark smiled and grimiced but Lucy just kept a strait face.

At the end of the video, Lucy looked perplexed.

Mark, unsure, asked, "What did you think?"

"I think I know that guy."  

"The victim?", Mark was confused.

"The trucker.", Lucy responded.

"From where?  We have to thank this guy."

"I don't know.", Lucy was lost in thought.

Mark rewound the the video and stopped it on the best shot of the truckers face.  They both stared for a minute.

Mark broke the silence, "Kento found somthing out about the nanites last night."  

"Really.", Lucy seemed interested.

"They eat.", Mark said proudly.

"What?" Lucy asked.

"Glucose.", Mark said.

"He turned them on?", Lucy asked.

"Nope."

"Wow.", She still looked perplexed over the face of the trucker.

"Hey guys come over here.", Kento shouted.  "I need your input."

Joe strutted over in a fasion that convinced Mark that his coffee cup was actually holding him up.  Lucy lead the way as Mark followed. 
"For Joe and Lucy, we now have reason to believe that the nanites never actually power down." Kento said in a business like fashion. "The nanites continually feed on nearby glucose, a superflous funtion for machines meant to fail in a short time.  I have come to believe that these machines have been made with the intention of enhancing a human to give them super strength and endurance.  Sombody very powerful is behind the devlopment of these machines to keep them a secret throughout their develepment, and we are now racing the clock with our very lives."

"Great.", Joe said sarcastily.

Mark cracked a smile.  You have to love Joe's style.

"If we destroy all samples and data, we may have a chance at creating plausable deniability.  We would have to continue our lives as if we never encountered these.  Any chance we had of working in any kind of legitmate nanoresearch is gone."

"Fine with me", Lucy smiled.

"If we choose to continue down our current path, we must expidite and accelerate the discovery process as fast as we can.  Ultimatly, only instant simoltanous disclosure of funtioning plans in the very near future will protect us from swift extermination.", Kento eyes bugged a bit and he squinted.

Huh, terrorists aren't going to come crashing through the door in the next five minutes, Mark thought.  "Kento you've gone off the deep end.  I know sombody would be pissed about the reproduction of these things, but we're just looking, and how would they know."

"So you think we should try to reproduce these.", Kento said deadly serious.  "This is a one way fork in the road, we must make right now.  Your whole life will be very different from here on in if we continue.", Kentos voice was soothing and very powerful.

Even Finny stopped playing and looked on.

"So you think our future depends on ending this here.", Mark stated.  Mark hated the idea of stopping, but the whole ruined life thing was very compelling.  I guess Kento read me right, I don't really care what the future holds if I have to let this go.

Kento turned to Lucy, "Are you prepared to give up your daughter?  To go to jail and not see her?  To run from sombody every day for the rest of your life."

Lucy looked to her daughter, to reasure her.   Finny didn't look upset, trusting her mother completely.  Lucy didn't answer.

"How about you Joe? Aman is right, this is no game."

Joe tired eyes looked more open now.  He paused and said, "I chose when I took them."

That's what Mark always liked about Joe, he defenatly knew himself.

"What about Aman?", Joe asked, "Can we trust him?"

"I don't know.", Kento seemed sincere. "He is very angry."

No way am I letting them speak for Aman.  "He has been through enough terrible shit.", Mark looked surprised he even spoke.

Everybody turned and stared at Mark.  Mark hated the idea speaking for Aman when he wasn't present.  He stood there silent, looking back at everyone.  Aman wouldn't want them to know.  Joe doesn't need defending, he'd always choose the adventure.  I don't know Kento.  Oh wait damnit, I don't have a choise do I.  They need to know everything.  Lucy and Finny need to know everything.

Mark went to open his mouth but nothing came out.
\chapter{}
Nathen dwelled on the Chief's words. "confirm carnal knowledge."  Those seemed to fit with Scott's version of what happened in the meeting.  Now Nathen needed to test their new legal loophole against the spirit of the chief's words.

Actually technically they weren't going against orders, since technically they weren't enlisted or contracted to do any of this.  But to be safe, Scott wanted yet another level of protection for MIR and mainly himself.  Nathen was expected to use an unrelated violation of protocol between a general and Homeland Security's intelligence to confirm the state of Vallone's net search in a round about sort of way.  Sort of a bureaucratic blackmail.

It really was a beautiful manipulation legally speaking.  The system is so inefficient, Nathen thought, It's time for the Pentagon to finally acknowledge the truth.  MIR's specialists are just better equipped at modern warfare.  In the age of the nanite, troops were never more effective than the nanites defending them.  Soldiers are for show, it's the machines that do the work.  No MIR, no machines, no more effective US defense against global terrorism.

He squinted to see time on his watch in the darkened makeshift office.  Nathen picked up the phone and dialed the chief of military cybercrimes division of Homeland Security.  The phone rang three times and he heard a young man with a squeaky voice answer the phone.

"Hello, cyber-ferrensics, chiefs office, Lieutenant Douglas Franklin speaking."

"Hello, Lieutenant Franklin, I am Nathan Jones, core operations supervisor at Municipal Integrated Robotics, I need to speak to the Chief.", Nathan said, knowing that would be impossible.

"What is this in regards to..", 

"Security Protocol 5b-42.6.  I am requesting a secondary review of procedure H on Joeseph Vallone."

"Please hold.", the squeaky man uttered.  The phone went silent.

One minute later, "What case was procedure Hanna being reviewed for, and under who's authority?"

"The authority of the joint chiefs...", Nathan said with certainty.  That as the beauty of it, Nathan thought.  Done in by their own hand with their own authority.  It suited them to drown in their own legal mire.

"Please wait, while I verify MIR's security status and lock down your location."

Nathan heard some intermittent rustling and tapping on the other side of the phone.  "According to our records, Vallone has been handled appropriately for a low confidence status."

So Intelligence thought Mr Vallone was no risk.  It won't be so easy to convince Scott, he thought.

"So you're certain all transmission types are covered?"

"Sir, I need you to call back on a secure line to tell you that."

Nathan was suddenly flush,  "I thought you told me that Vallone was a low risk."

"Yes sir", uttered the nervous Franklin.

"Then what is the problem?,  What could possibly require a secure line?",  Jones felt his pulse race as he imagined his conversation with Scott about this.

"Sir, I can only grant you the grade status of the case under that security protocol.  You need to be in the secure grid to receive any further detail on that case."

"I know what you are doing.", Nathan's voice began to raise, "you're hiding something."  Nathan words were a bluff but his tone was fueled with fear.

"Sir, I will be filing a complaint about this, If you do not cease your accusations immediately!", the lieutenant spoke with a new vigor, but still squeaked.

"Then why not tell me now, you know that you'll have to soon, despite your protests.", Nathan was sinking fast, this was not in his plan.

"Sir, use of the security grid is in place for a reason as is the 5b request for case status.  Your lack of respect for procedure shows a clear lack of understanding of the need for accountability or the sensitivity of the information involved.", Lieutenant Franklin's tone leveled off.

"Goodbye Lieutenant, I will remember this gross lack of judgment.", Nathan was angry about being out-argued. 

"Goodbye sir.", Franklin hung up the phone.

Nathan began to rapidly sift through his papers, I need some good news.  I can't face Scott with the minimum acomplishment.  I need more. He suddenly stopped at a folder marked "Dr. Teressa Graceland" with red ink.  We can't be sure without state of the investigation.   I'll force her hand.  I get her to arrange a meeting with Vallone.  One interview and we'll able to hold him.  Nathan began to smile.  He wedged the phone between his shoulder and chin and dialed.  

He tapped a pen nervously on the desk as the phone rang.

"Hello, intensive care and radiology", an annoyed woman answered the phone.

"Dr. Graceland please, it's urgent." 

"It's always urgent from that area code, many I ask who's calling?", now the woman sounded very annoyed and a bit sassy.

"This is Nathan Jones from MIR.."

"Please hold.", the woman put him on hold before he could finish talking.

Nathan ran through his script of the conversation.  He was tapping his pen faster now.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Graceland, this is councilor Nathan Jones from MIR.  I believe you already know my superior, council Conner."

"Yes, how may I help you, council?", Teressa inquired.

"I need to set up an interview with you and you're nephew, Joe Vallone.", Nathan stated plainly.

"Out of the question.", Dr. Graceland said swiftly.  "He has nothing to do with the administration of the nanites.  My report should illustrate that."  

She is very defensive, Perhaps she's hiding somthing.  Nathen slowly cracked a crooked smile.  "I don't believe that we have a choice doctor.  National security is at stake." Nathan was grinning.

"I will not submit him to any interviews.  He was mostly dead when they were activated.  He is not a terrorist, he is a hemophiliac, and that is the end of it."

"If you prefer we can begin with you.", Nathan asked.  Nathen had an idea, we don't need Joe, he thought.  I had better keep her going or I'll look weak.

Teressa began fume, "Why don't you end with me instead.  He knows nothing about what was done to him."

"So you say.  You forget the needs of the people around you.  You, your hospital, MIR,  and Homeland Security have specific interests that this information does not come out yet.  Did you forget the waivers and contracts you signed?  Did you not apply for security clearance just to be a part of this project?  Your lack of respect for procedure shows a clear lack of understanding of the need for accountability or the sensitivity of the information involved."

Nathen paused, but heard nothing but breathing on the phone.  "I would like to meet you both tommorrow."

"I am in surgary all this week.  The first time I can meet you is next Wednesday.", Teressa sounded exasperated.

"That is not acceptable.", Nathen souned cold.  His confidence was growing.

"Fine, I am out of the study.  I'll turn in my withdrawal papers tomorrow."

No wait, I can't let her out of that contract, not yet.  Nathen felt his desperation growing and his toes curl, I have to take control. "We can do without Joe for Wednesday."

Dr Graceland held the line.

"I'll need all your trial data for this quarter as well, I'll meet you at eleven hundred hours, before you're shift begins.", Nathan's voice revealed little emotion.  Finally a day off, he thought.  Scott will have to appreciate my initiative.

Nathan heard a man's voice across the phone.  "Dr Graceland, you're needed in ER now."

"Good bye Council Jones. I must go now.", Teressa sounded cold.  She hung up the phone before he could respond.

Just wait till Wednesday he thought. Nathen cracked a smile.
\chapter{}
Lucy was miffed.

Where the hell is Mark?  He is completely focused on those nanites.  He has huge dreams, but he needs to think more about the now.  He's not all that bad, he'll be a money making machine one day when he gets more focused!  Right now he's all id, off this way and that, completely unfocused and inconsiderate.

"What is he thinking?",  Lucy asked aloud to Joe.  "You're here, still fixing the borg an hour before we're live and he's nowhere to be seen!"

Joe looked up from the a mass of wires inside the cyborgs head he was fiddling with.  He looked at Lucy blankly and shrugged his shoulders, "Ehh he's Mark."  Joe looked longer at Lucy trying to read her.  

"You need to worry more.", Lucy uttered.

"I'll finish it.", Joe looked her in the eye as he talked.

"He still need to control the arms!", Lucy was feeding her own remorse.

Joe grinned, "You can do it."

"Oh real funny.  I'll probably rip one arm off with the other."

"They love that stuff.", Joe was still grinning.

Lucy stomped up the aisle past the other teams noisy repair cubicles in the back room of the studio.  She adjusted her tight Team A shirt so the logo was strait.  She had reluctantly agreed to show off her breasts, for A team publicity.  Apparently it worked, she always had lots of cheers and fan mail.  Pigs!

I suppose I understand why Mark is so interested in the nanites.  Holding the fate of the world must sound great to him.  But I wish they had thought more about me.  That's why I'm really angry right now.  I had the chance to build an empire here, and they blew it.  I have a daughter, I don't want her to have to live without me.  They can't understand that.

I guess I might just be being selfish, she thought.  Joe would have died from that crash.  I would have done the same thing his Aunt did in a heartbeat.   How did she get involved in this web of lies?   She's a practical woman.  She must have seen the damage this kind of work could do to her successful life.  I guess her life seemed less meaningful after her sister died.  It's funny how much Joe's father and Teressa have changed since I've known them.

Lucy pushed open the fire door leading to parking lot.  Holding it open, she paused, staring outside in to the wintry gloom.  Lucy squinted at a car coming around the bend through her foggy breath.  Suddenly she heard a voice behind her.

"Lucy?", a voice asked.

Lucy jumped away from the voice, turning around.

"Sorry.", it was Kento. 

"That's OK.", Lucy said catching her breath, "I was lost in thought."

"You thinking about what I said in the shop?", Kento asked in a pensive tone.

Lucy paused, "I've realized that Teressa saw that this was bigger and more important than her.  I definitely know it's bigger than me, I just don't know if I care."

Kento looked at her, attentive but unemotional.  He said nothing.

Lucy was frustrated.  He doesn't understand, she thought.  "Kento... my daughter,  I can't land myself in jail.  I don't have a lawyer.  This isn't a game.  How long have we been hearing this anti-nanite crap on the radio.  I'm in no shape to fight this battle."

Kento remained silent.  Nodding his head in perfect tune to signal he had heard.

"I'm too old.  All my money is tied up in properties and businesses.  I have too much to lose in an adventure like this."

"So what kind of future do you think Filly will have?  She'll be a slave.", Kento grimaced,  "I don't see that you have a choice."

Lucy walked back inside the door way shivering.  The door swung shut behind her.  "I'll help you guys any way I can, but if the shit hits the fan I'm out.", Lucy paused lost in thought.  She mumbled to herself, "I'd hate to lose the A-team."

Kento looked resigned.  "You're especially at risk, any time you feel the need and we are gone.  You are getting the worst of both worlds."

"I hope not.  Look how I got rich, economics and politics can turn around quick."

Lucy and Kento walked back to the A team booth quiet and reflective.

As they arrived at the booth Kento turned to Lucy and said, "Oh, by the way, you're never too old."

Joe looked up from the innards of the RC controller he was tinkering with.  "Hi Kento.", Joe turned to Lucy smiling. "To old for what?"

"Joe.. Hello, on the floor in an hour???!", Lucy appeared flustered, not totally from frustration.

Joe stared at Lucy and his smile grew.  He looked positively boyish.

"Hi!", Mark voice cut in.

"AHhhh!", Lucy jumped again.

"Why does everybody do that?", Lucy was talking a little louder.  Her heart was pounding.

"Sorry", Mark couldn't stop grinning, "I did it!"

"What?", Lucy had no idea what he was talking about.

"I know.", Joe was grinning again.

"I got the nanites to talk to me.", Mark exclaimed.  

What the hell, we're all going to go to jail, Lucy thought.  "Mark keep you're voice down.", Lucy said rasping.

They leaned in as Mark started whispering, "Oh right, so I was running this password cracker and trying all these different protocols across different media types and I was running this modified rsh login over a shortened IP/UDP protocol with a random username and password and it answered.", Mark inhaled "At first I thought I lost the connection to the ultra sound panel because at that range the signal was so strong it spiked the meter. Once I turned down the sensitivity of the meter I could see it was responding to me in a consistant way but kept disconnecting without returning a coherant packet, so I thought maybe I should try crafting a packet", Mark gasped for air, "just with a similar timed set of responses and with a little tuning I was getting the same few beats back, so I used the alphabet of digits I learned so far with a standard atm frame size and began running the cracker with the new alphabet", Mark inhaled, "in random combinations and suddenly open sesame, I had a standard telnet prompt strait to a shell over semi-standard ATM no login, it was actually a secret knock all along." Mark sucked down some air and began breathing deeply.

They all stared at Mark wheezing.

Joe broke the silence. "Cool!"

Lucy chimed in with a furrowed brow, "What?"

Kento stared into space almost talking to himself,  "We made some progress.  I thought we were going to have to mail them all over the planet, I really didn't want to risk it yet."

"Thought they'd use encryption.", Joe said aloud to himself.

"Yea that is kind of weird.", Kento said.  "Maybe the CPU isn't fast enough?.. or not broad enough bandwidth. Mark what rate was it pulsing.?"

Lucy cut Kento off, "Kento mail them to whom?", her voice was a little too loud.  A tech from a nearby cubical looked up from his robot and eyed them.

Kento looked at her sideways and whispered, "You don't think we're smart enough to analyze all this data ourselves, do you?  These things probably took years to develop, design and test.  Even if we were the top molecular biologists with the best gear, there aren't enough of us to document every molecule in a year with the three of us, much less understand how they work."

Lucy looked a little scared.  She wasn't ready just yet to send them packing.  Lucy whispered, "Kento, why didn't you tell us about this before?  Who else knows about this?" 

Kento raised an eyebrow and said, "Scientists."

Mark looked a little concerned now, "Kento, how many scientists?" 

"Six hundred and thirty two.", Kento said casually.   Kento alone, appeared calm.  Even the usually sullen Joe curled his lip.

Oh Lord.  Finny is going to be in foster care.  I'm going to be some guards personal servant at Rikers Island. Oh wait, no they won't send me to Rikers, they'll execute me for being an terrorist...

Kento saw the twisted look on Lucy's face, "Lucy it's OK. I know everyone of these people.  They spent their whole lives building up to expertise in nanotech. If they hadn't been strongarmed out by the feds, they would have cured cancer by now."

Lucy started reviewing every second of her interaction with Kento since she met him in high school. She thought about the class they first talked in, meeting Joe through him, seeing the bullied kids he helped.  She remembered going to lunch with mutual friends and later writing a recommendation letter for him for college.  She remembered visiting him in college, and three different professors came up to him to talk in a ten minute span!

"At school, the faculty all knew you by name.", Lucy mumbled.

"Teaching kempo in school, it all started there.", Kento looked her in the eye.

Mark looked at Kento, "You've been planning this all along."

"If you mean since the day the DOJ sued the Foresight Institute out of existence on a trumped up trade secret charge. Yes."

"I thought they disbanded.", Lucy said.

"Where did you hear that?  The TV news?  They answer to the FCC now.",  Kento stated.

Joe grumbled, "It's true.  They lied."

Lucy recalled hearing the FCC asking the networks to delay a few broadcasts since the crunch, but everything gets out sooner or later.   Oh no, how much time has passed?  "Not to kill our fun.", Lucy said while looking at her watch, "but we're on camera in thirty minutes."

Mark eyes opened wide, "Oh crap."
\chapter{}
I can't think about this right now.  I have to focus on the competition.  No nanites, no million mile and hour jibberish comming out of Marks mouth.  Just the cammeras and the guys and Marksman.  Lucy stared at the monitor hanging from the wall on deck.  Pertending to watch the replays of the last match.

"Uh oh.", Joe looked worried.

"What's up Joe?"

"I forgot my clarks."

"Oh crap Joe. Stay here.", She turned to Mark as she jogged away. "This is you're fault you know."  

"What? I said I was sorry.", Mark said as she jogged off.

Lucy was joggging back towards the cubicle filled room toward their station.  She pushed the resturaunt style doors open and dashed through them.  I can't work up a sweat, or my makeup will run.

She scampered into Team A's cubical.  The Clarks weren't on the counter top.  She began ripping drawers open.  A movement caught the corner of Lucy's eye.   Lucy purposefully dropped somthing and crouched to pick it up.  Carefully looking, she noticed two large men in suits, one light and one dark talking to the tech from the next cubical.

Oh crap.  What the hell.  Those are cops!  They must be questioning that guy from the next cubical.  What's his name... Eric.  He's not supposed to be back stage.  There are no runnoff matches tonight, he should be on deck.

Oh my god, the're here for us.

Don't panic.  Just stay calm.  Oh shit they're looking over here.  Act casual.  Just keep doing what I am doing.  Just then Lucy spotted Joe's jacket on the floor. Mumbling to herself, she reached over to Joe's jacket and grabed the clarks.  Getting up and turning the same time, Lucy made sure not to make eye contact.

Lucy came bursting though the gray egg crate covered door waving the clarks in the air.  Joe had already strapped his PC to his arm.  The three of them were alone in the tiny room.

"Guys I've got the clarks!",  Lucy exclaimed.  "Listen..", Lucy took a breath "I was just in the mod room and.." Lucy took another breath.

"Here we go...", Mark looked excited pointing at the monitor.

A musical horn piece came on that sounded conspicously like the A-team theme.  Movie clips of the three of them shooting M16s and hitting nothing.  scrolled by.  Lucy's Black van rolled by and next they showed a few clips of them welding parts onto the Cyborg and finally of the cyborg in battle.  The announcer began to talk about their team's recent winning streak towards the end of the campy intro.

"Guys?  Guys?  Somthing to tell you?  Joe, I have your clarks..."

Nothing.

The guys watched intently barely clutching their rc controlers.  Lucy would have frustrated if she wasn't scared.  She stared intently at Joe.  I know how to get his attention, she thought.  She walked up behind him intentionally pushing her breast against his arm and back from behind.  She whispered in his ear, "There are cops in the mod questioning Eric, right now."

Joe looked down at her completely confused, with a glassy eyed look taking over his face.

The announcers raised his voice a little.  "By now, you have to know them, and when they come to your town you'd best look out."

Joe looked to Lucy for a clue, but it was to late.  They were out of time.  She handed Joe the Clarks, and they followed Mark out the door.

The announcer yelled, "The A team!!!" as they walked out on to the floor.  Lucy was worried sick, and Joe looked it too.  The crowd went wild.

Mark walked right up to the announcer, "Uh that's Team A." He said into the microphone.  

"Right OK", the announcer said on mic, grinning, "I always mix that up."

One more lawsuit avoided Lucy thought.

"So we're all curious what this new compartment is on the front of Marksman.  It looks like a complete cyborg, by the new rules, so what could it be?", the announcer held the microphone to Marks mouth.  

"You'll see.", Mark's smile turned to a grin.

The announcer turned to Lucy, "You're opponent tonight is Dark Knight, with three strait wins.  How do you think the boys will fair?"

Lucy felt a bit like a robot, but forced herself to perk up and act.  Her voice sounded more squeeky and distant than usual, "The winner is already chosen, Rick."  Lucy added rage to her fear, she furious with herself.  That sounded really dumb.

Joe looked pertified, lost in his own thoughts.  Rick turned to him next, "So Joe you look a little worried.. Second thoughts?  Cold feet?  Finally met your match?  Ready to throw the towel in?"

The announcer looked Joe right in the eye.  The studio was quiet.  Joe still looked lost.

Joe eyes went wide.  He began to smile.  He grabbed the mic and simply said, "Never. I, live, for, this..", and donned his Clarks.

The crowd went bonkers.  Lucy began to feel a little better.  She didn't even know why.

The announcer introduced the other team.  Joe and Mark walked down to their circle beside the plexiglass enclosure.

There it was.  Their complete robot, standing upright on giant traks. with complex multi-hydrolic arms.  Painted metallic mars-red with black accents, it's facimile of a head with a visor like strip of cammeras.  Nearly seven feet of pure intimidation.

Joe and Mark powered on their rc controlers, and arm computers.  The guys began set up the 3d overlayed view from the robots eyes, Lucy knew the arm gestures well. 

Lucy took in the competition.  The opposite robot also had small tracks for feet and was dressed up in black human style plate armor, hiding it's components.  She squinted to see through the awkard cardboard visors their teenage oponents where wearing.  It doesn't look like they are wearing clarks.  This should be quick, Lucy thought.

Marksman began to twitch and turn in it's small circle painted on the floor.  It stretched it's arms and flexed it's waist and shoulders.

After a minute, Dark Knight began to twitch in a meaningfull way.  The Dark Knights both gave a thumbs up.  The enemy cyborg awkwardly reached for a spiked ball and chain from it's belt.  Grasping it and slowly swinging it back and forth.

Lucy looked around scanning the exits for cops blocking them.  Nothing so far.  She spotted Kento in the guest area.  He saw her looking and waved.

Lucy looked to Mark and they gave her the thumbs up.  Lucy repeated the gesture for the judges table nearby.

Rick Winter counted from three and a whistle blasted.  The robots rolled toward each other.

The enemy cyborg turned and went the other way, Marksman gave chase.  The guys directed Marksman to chase Black Knight around the ring for a whole minute as the audience booed. They managed to stay just out of range.  Lucy didn't understand the Knight's strategy.  I can't tell if they are trying to run out the clock or they're doing a rope a dope.  Lucy thought about the the old Mohamad Alli trick and if it would work with cyborgs.  If they think they'll get tired didn't study the guys enough.  They don't get tired, not of this.

When Team A finally cornered Black Knight in front of a large pit in the floor.  It swung it's mace wildy, but to no avail the lighter, less armored Marksman easily dodged it's awkward attacks.  Mark and Joe leaned their RC controlers left and right, controling the lesser waist and shoulder sifting while Joe rapidly turned from track to track and left to right.

Then Marksman grabbed hold of Black Knights mace hand and it was all over. While grappling with Black Knight, Mark's hand slipped off his larger full motion joysticks and clicked an awkward button on the edge on the edge of the video game like RC controler.  Marksmans arms locked the enemy cyborgs arms in place as it writhed.  The new doors on Marksmans chest plate opened up and a second set of smaller arms reached out wedging open a crack in the knights plate armor. The small arms retracted, pulling out a red foam ball, disabling the wiggleing cyborg.

"He has his heart he's got the heart.", The anouncer yelled.  Everyone screamed and jumped.

Mark quickly reached up and flicked the switch on his controler again, and the smaller arms went slack and began to sloly retract.  Marksman's larger arms released the Black Knights arms and Marksman pushed it into the gaping whole.

The screaming was so loud Lucy's ears hurt.  She soon realized she was screaming too.  How can they arrest us now, Lucy thought, there will be a riot.

Mark and Joe gave each other a high five.

"What an unusual cyborg.  Four arms, folks I tell you now we've seen it all!",  Winter seemed to be loving it.

Lucy ran over and hugged the guys.  They jumped up and down in unison.  Lucy 
looked up at Joe...

"Oh wait,  I recvieving a letter from the judges. Man I hope they rule that was legal because it was great.",  a slim young woman handed the announcer an envelope.

As the anouncer read the piece of paper to himself his face began turning down.  The audience quickly hushed, as if on que.

Rick Winter walked down to team A's circle.  "Well apparently the judges think there was an oversight in the wording of the arm regulation, it looks like the extra arms will have to be taken off."  The audience sighed.   Winter put his hand on Marks shoulder.  Suddenly he turned to Joe and Lucy, "but this victory stands!"  The crowd went wild.  Winter played their emotions like a harp.

Posters of the A-team logo waved in the stands.  They did it again, they couldn't be beat.  They really were the best.

Joe leaned into Rick's microphone and said in an deep Italian accent, "I love it when a plan comes together."

Lucy wondered how many cops where waiting for them outside.
\chapter{}
"First the guy's at the shop and now this?", Mark looked disturbed.

"I thought for sure they were going to arrest us.",  Lucy added.

"Same guys from the shop?", Joe pondered.

"We don't even know if those cops were there for us.", Lucy commented.

"Cops at the shop?  When?", Kento wondered.

"A couple of guys in a Lincoln.", Joe remarked.

"Joe spotted them by the abandonded warehouse.  He ran over, and got there just in time to see them get into a Lincoln.   They kicked up so much dust he couldn't see the plate.", Mark volunteered.

Lucy squinted at Kento, holding back her emotion, "They were packing."

Joe looked at Lucy sympathetically, "Don't worry, lots of people carry now."

Lucy raised an eyebrow and said sarcastically to Joe, "Thanks Joe, I feel much better now." 

Joe turned red.

"It could be the same guys, but it's probably not for the nanites.  These tactics are too primitive for the company that owns them.  They have got to be pretty high up the ladder.  They could have just been taxi drivers.", Kento looked lost in thought as he talked.

"I thought of that.", Joe uttered, distracted.

They all stood silently in a circle, eyes at the ground or the sky.

"This might have something to do...", Mark looked up complete surprised stopping mid-sentence.  Everyone looked at Mark.

"With what?", Kento asked.

"Aman.", Joe looked right at Mark as he said it.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to.", Joe looked a little angry.

"What do you mean?"

"Why is an Iranian physicist working with us?",  Joe asked.  "What is he doing here?"

"You think he's a terrorist?", Mark asked looking confused.

"Maybe.", Joe said.

"You have some large ones.", Mark said.

"You need some.", Joe shot back.

"Guys, look you are both on same side of this.  He's just not sure about Aman.  Don't let him come in between you.  We can't be sure about anything yet."

"Especially Mark.", Joe's nose twitched.

Kento grabbed Joe by the shoulder and pulled him aside.  Lucy tried to listen in as they whispered but their voices were to low.  She looked over at Mark.  He looked uncharacteristically angry.  His nerdy look washed away.  We can't fall apart right now, she thought, there are too many loose ends.

"You should come to the shop tomorrow so you can show the guys what you did.", Lucy said trying to calm him down.

Mark looked surprised that Lucy was standing there. "Oh right, yea, that would be pretty good."

"You have been really mysterious about Aman, Mark.", Lucy said.  "Usually you are so open about everything."

"I made a promise not to talk about it.  Trust me, it's OK."

"Mark I trust you, but you can't know what he's thinking.", Lucy felt faint.

Mark looked less angry and more afraid.

Joe and Kento returned from their huddle, and Joe looked significantly calmer.  

"Mark I'm sorry.", Joe said.  

"It's alright. Me too.", Mark said trying not to look hurt. "I made a promise not to talk about it.  I swear he's alright."

Joe nodded his head.

"I need to get up in the morning to make some calls, Joe would you mind driving?",  Lucy was hoping to let the fragile peace set in.

"No problem."

"See you tomorrow." and Mark walked toward his car.  Kento split off toward his bike.

Joe got in on drivers side of Lucy's van packed with the teams equipment.  He took the Clarks out his jacket pocket, and tapped the lcd on his arm computer.  Lucy watched him as she climbed in the van.  She wondered if he was trying to hide his expression behind the faux glasses.  Not a good thing, Joe wrecked his car when he was wearing his Clarks.

"Do you really need those things?", Lucy wondered aloud.  She hoped he would talk about it.

"What, no.  I like them though.", Joe looked at her as he started the van, "Easy to spot cops."

"Are you planning to speed?"

"No, but it sounds fun.",  Joe smiled a little.  

Joe pulled away from their spot a little faster than he should have.   Lucy felt her stomach wretch.  At first she thought it was from Joe's aggressive driving, but he was pulling away more calmly now, and it didn't stop.  Kento's prophesy was gnawing at her.  Kento was all about reading into things, but something sounded a little more real this time.  As real as that awkward microscope taking up an entire workbench at the shop.  What would she have to sacrifice to be a part of this.  She didn't want to give up her business, but she wanted to give up the guys even less.  Lucy didn't have alot of friends outside her work.

She really didn't want to give up Joe.  She felt the tears welling up.

Holding back, she said.  "Joe how can this end well?"

"We don't get caught.", Joe predictably missed the rhetoric.  He sounded cool and distant.

Lucy's tears were lost, Joe clearly didn't understand she was upset.  Lucy sat back, brooding about all of the time's he spilled his guts to her.  He never sees it when I need him, she thought.  He's so self centered.  Lucy's face turned stony, as she imagined her whole life alone.

I just need to admit how I feel for Joe.

The words came slowly to Lucy's mind as they drove along the expressway.  She looked over at his face.  His rugged, almost angry look contrasted the boyish joker she had seen earlier tonight.   Shadows danced across his cheeks as he drove under orange street lights.  She wanted to reach out to him console him.  She knew just how fragile he was underneath.

No I can't.  I have to hold it together.  I can't be weak.  Joe is our star, Mark is good but he just can't build like Joe can.  No matter how broken the cyborg is he always finds a way to get it running.  I need to be in charge, I can't lose that.

Lucy turned to Joe, "Joe, was the cyborg damaged at all?"

"Yea a little.", Joe paused.  He nodded his head for a while and said, "Mostly sheet metal.  A few bullet holes from the mace."

Bullet holes.  Lucy started brooding about the man interviewing their cubical neighbor again.  Lucy grasped the door handle tightly as Joe got off at their exit.

She looked over at Joe as they drove under some broken street lamps.  Eerie blue and red lights reflected off of the inside of his glasses.  Lucy felt like she was going to wilt.  All she wanted to do is go home and hide under the covers.

They pulled up in front of her house.  Joe asked as he got out of the van, "Can I hitch a ride to the shop?" 

Joe walked around the front of the van and handed her the keys.  She could swear he glanced at her breasts.  Lucy looked in Joe's eyes, "No problem.  How about 11am. I want to enjoy my sleep tonight."  

"OK see you tomorrow.", Joe turned and started walking toward his house, oblivious to Lucy's attention.

"Joe.", Lucy called out to him.  Joe turned around and started walking back to her. "Please come in and stay with me a little while.  Have some coffee."

Joe stopped and looked a bit perplexed.  His eyebrows moved up and down as he contemplated her unusual request.  "Yea OK."

Joe followed Lucy inside, as she searched her brain for some kind of meaning.  Her stomach was in knots.  I thought I could handle anything, but I can't handle this.  My sanity is gone.   I am inviting Joe in at one a.m.  Even if I didn't catch him staring at me I know how he might take this.  Lucy reached across her shoulder to adjust her bra strap, her body felt more sensitive.

Joe sat down in the kitchen as Lucy walked toward the coffee machine.  She focused on the task of preparing coffee.  Why had she crossed this line?  I have to cut the team loose, that must be why.  I care about these guys, I don't want to do it.  Lucy flipped the switch on the front of the machine and it flipped a switch inside.  The tears welled up in her eyes and she started to cry.

"Lucy, what's wrong?", Joe sounded completely confused.  "Are you OK."  Joe walked across the kitchen to her.

Lucy threw her arms around him, and cried on his shoulder.  "Joe don't tell anyone, I'm so scared."  She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Lucy, I didn't think.", Joe looked ashamed.  Joe held onto her.

After a minute, Lucy pushed him away enough to look at him.  "How did we get here?",  Lucy asked.

Joe stared at her looking more scared than she had ever seen him.  He held his embrace loosely.  She realized how vulnerable he was, physically and emotionally.  She realized how much she loved him.

Lucy reached up and kissed him on the lips.  Gently touching his lips, feeling their warmth. 

Joe responded and kissed her back.  Sorrow turned to affection as his hands touched her neck.  He ran his fingers through the hair at the back of her neck, and his kiss deepened.  One of his hands ran down the small of her back and stoped at her theigh.  He pulled her waist closer too his.

I want him, Lucy thought, completely forgetting about their perilous future.  She reached up the sides of his shirt and grabbed the back of his muscular shoulders, massaging them.  Their noses brushed as they tried their kiss on the other side.  It felt just as right.  

The kissing aroused Lucy to the point that she wanted to try more.  She felt the heat from his excited bulge at her waist.  She pulled away from Joe without saying a word.  Seeing the terrified look of regret on his face when she pulled away, she grabbed him by the front of his jeans above the zipper and pulled him into her living room.  His expression changed to pure bliss.

When Joe realized where she was taking him, he spun around behind her and began kissing her neck.  He placed one hand on her thigh and the other cupped her breast as he kissed. She reached behind her head and grabbed a fold in the fabric of his shirt with both hands, pulling it over his head.  She spun and began to kiss his shoulder.  She gently ran her fingers along his back, careful not scratch him with her fingernails.

Joe had shown all the restraint he muster. He reached down and pulled her pants button open.  He pulled her close and kissed her as he unzipped her pants and slowly guided them off. 

Lucy pulled away from his kiss, and again he looked frightened, as if he had done something wrong.  She spoke very quietly but not quite in a whisper in his ear, "Joe have you ever done this before."   She pressed her waist close to his as if to reassure him.  

He started to kiss her neck again as he responded.  "Yes."

"How many times?", she asked between elongated breaths.

"Twice.", he worked his way up to her ear.

"I have so much to teach you.  You're almost a virgin.", she said as she ran her hand along his waist and down the front of his thigh.

Joe took her by surprise, gently lowering her down to the couch below.  He kissed her as he did it and she quivered with lust.  Trying to calm herself as much as Joe, she looked at him and smiled, "Slowly, we have all night."
\chapter{}
Daylight peeked in the room.  Joe woke up with a start.  Where am I?  I'm in Lucy's bed!  Joe recalled the night before.  Was Lucy just weak or was it something more, Joe wondered?  He had found Lucy attractive for years, but why did she accept him, no wait, invite him now?  What did I do?  Joe sat up with a start.   He heard her talking on the phone in the other room.  He grabbed his clothing off the floor and quietly dressed while he listened.

"No mom.  Mom their is a ton of work to do now.",  Lucy paused to listen.  "Mom I need you to watch Finny today, I'll be by to pick her up tonight.",  "I'll see you after eight."

What work did Lucy have to do now?  What was going on?  Joe quickly pulled his shirt over his head and walked into his sneakers.  Joe walked out into the hall towards Lucy's voice.

Lucy was naked except for a long pale blue T shirt.  Her dark hair was wet and looked jet black.  Lucy's back was turned to Joe.  Her heart shaped rear was obvious to Joe through the thin shirt.  Joe felt arousal enveloping his mind.

Lucy dialed the phone and walked to a table with the phone to her ear.  She spotted Joe and turned around smiling.  He was a little relieved.

Joe caught himself staring at her breasts.

"Machine."  Lucy said as she hung up the phone.  She walked over to Joe.  Joe felt his heart flutter.  

She walked up and touched Joe's arm.  Lucy looked him in the eye.  "Joe last night...", and she stopped.

Joe thought, I'm going to lose her friendship.  Joe felt his skin prickle.  He thought of many fun hours hanging out with Lucy and Finny.  "Lucy, whatever you say, I hope we're still friends.  I can't lose that."

"Joe we weren't drunk.  I wanted to do it too.", She reassured him.  Joe still felt like he had done something wrong.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the living room.  She lead him to a chair.  "Have a seat." 

Joe sat in a recliner.

"This is not easy for me to say."

His heart sank to the pit of his stomach.  

"I think I have to sell the team."

Joe's dread morphed into confusion, "Why, because of last night?  I'm so sorry."

"No Joe, it's the other way around.  I wanted last night to happen.  I let myself be with you because I had made up my mind about the team."

"Why?  The fans love you.", Joe look bewildered.

Lucy paused as if searching for words, "Joe, this nanotech stuff is too crazy for me.  I need to get out before it effects business."

Joe thought about Lucy's daughter. 

"I understand."  

He looked at the floor.

"Hey don't be bummed", Lucy crouched in front of Joe, "Somebody will buy the team!  You guys are on fire."

"What about us?", Joe asked. "Will we matter?" Joe cursed his poor articulation, "I mean, will this matter?"

Lucy looked him in the eye, "Whatever we want from each other, I won't let anything stand in the way.  I just ask one thing, whatever happens we need to have our stories strait, I had nothing to do with this.   I don't know about the nanites, I never heard about the nanites, and you guys told me that monstrosity on the bench is a borrowed chip building machine."

"You didn't ask for this.",  Joe said nodding his head.

Lucy reached out and held his hand.  "Outside of that, I'll help you guys however I can."

Joe recognised Lucy's lie.  He had heard her tell a lie like this a dozen times.  Really how can she help, Joe thought.  She just wants me to feel better.  Well at least she cares.  He looked up at Lucy with a big smile.

Lucy caught Joe smiling.  "What is it Joe?", Lucy inquired.

Joe had an idea.

"I have two tickets to the Olympic trials.", he grinned a crooked smile.

Lucy smiled.  "A date?  I'd love to come with you Joe.  When is it?"

"Next Tuesday.", Joe grumbled.

Joe felt his stomach churning. 

"If I can get a sitter for Finny, you're on.", Lucy kissed Joe's cheek.

Joe starred at Lucy wide eyed.

"What Joe."

"Do you have any food?"
\chapter{}
Joe took the van the long way to the shop to stop for breakfast.  Joe noticed a familiar looking truck in the adjacent parking lot of an abandoned gas station.  He pulled into the donut shop's parking lot.  "Lucy that's the truck."  

Lucy looked perplexed, "What truck?  I just see dirty windshield"

"That looks like the rig that night.", Joe looked lost in thought.

Lucy looked around for the truck and then at Joe, looking completely confused.

"The trucker, who saved us?", Joe eyes opened wide.

"Oh right, OK, yea him.", Lucy looked a little embarrassed. "How could you know?"

"It was white truck, like that."

"Right, OK.",  Lucy was mocking him.

Joe parked and they walked inside.  Joe looked around and didn't see the intervening driver.  He walked up to the counter disappointed.  I just wanted to say thank you, he thought.  Joe groggily ordered Lucy and his unhealthy breakfast sandwiches.

In a minute he was sipping his coffee.  He felt a tap on his shoulder.  He turned around and there he was, the mystery trucker.  He was six feet two inches and half as wide.  He had wild curly red hair and a red beard on the short side.  He was in good shape but had a small belly.  He looked about forty years old.  He shifted a couple of bags to his other hand.  He was smiling as he held out his large hand on the end of a larger forearm to Joe.

"So you're the Cyborg Wars champion.  Pleased to meet you.",  the large trucker said with a light southern twang.

"You know who I am?",  Joe looked perplexed.  He thought he had his audience figured out.  Joe reached out and shook his hand.  Joe hand felt nearly crushed.

"Of course. I look for stops with net TV.  I love the whole A-Team thing, I used to watch that show when I was young.", the trucker said smiling. 

"What I can't figure out is how this lovely young lady, Lucy was it?", he paused and turned to Lucy and she smiled, "Figured out how I was a fan?"

He doesn't know who I am.  He doesn't remember that night, Joe thought.  Oh wait he probably didn't see me, we had to zoom in on his best frame just to recognize him close up.  

Joe looked past the trucker to Lucy for some cue, she just shrugged her shoulders.

Joe was about to spew gratitude, when his instinct stopped him.  Joe remember the pride of his coworkers back at Sun Auto. I can't just blubber all over this guy, he'll leave as quick as he can.  Then Joe had an idea.

"Wasn't to come back to the shop? See the cyborg?", Joe inquired in a grumbly voice.

The trucker paused for a second.  "Any other season, I'd tell you no, but right now I don't have no work.  Sounds good."

"We're in the black van outside.", Lucy said, "We were going to take the expressway anyway."

The trucker looked outside at their van.  He started chuckling.  "That's great.  You've got the A-team van spoiler and all.  It's like a theme park."

Joe and Lucy smiled.

Suddenly the trucker's face turned sour.  "I am so rude, I can't believe my manners.  I'm Skyler Godslaw Truman, pleased to make you're acquittance.", his smile returned.

"Joe Vallone, this is Lucy Kane.", Joe realized he already knew their names.

"Oh wait, before I say yes, I gotta ask my wife.  She's gotta give the OK."

Lucy and Joe watched as Skyler walked to to his truck.  He got in and disappeared for a minute.  Joe thought about Lucy's good deed of finding Skyler.

"Lucy, are you OK with this?", Joe inquired.

"Yea, I'll tell the guys about the team later.  It probably won't actually happen for a couple of months."

"He doesn't know, does he?"

"I didn't tell him.  It strange, it's almost like he found us.", Lucy replied.

The shotgun trucker, climbed out of his cab and walked over to them briskly.  He looked a little excited.  "It shouldn't be a problem.  She doesn't have anything scheduled."

I wonder what schedule the wife of a trucker might have scheduled. "OK follow us.", Joe told him.

"Honk if there's a problem.", Lucy said.

"Got it.",  the trucker hustled back over to his rig.

Joe and Lucy made small talk as they lead the trucker to the nearby Team A warehouse.  Skyler pulled up outside the exterior fence.  He left the truck running and walked through the gate to greet them.  

"It's like a fortress, not what I pictured.",  Skyler looked around at the warehouse.

"I got them to throw in a fence as part of the deal.  Not the best zone up here.", Lucy paused. "Skyler, where's your wife.  She can come too."

Oh right, Joe forgot all about her.

"Oh she has work to do.", Skyler didn't elaborate.

As they opened the door, Lucy looked at Joe as Skyler walked through as if to say 'huh?'.

Joe didn't know either.  Maybe she was cleaning the truck?  He shrugged.
\chapter{}
Mark and Kento looked up from the microscopes screen as Skyler opened the door.  Kento revealed a controlled smile, and Mark was grinning from ear to ear.  Joe was certain that Mark was going to start gushing from the look on his face.  As he came into view, Joe put his index finger over his lips to signal Mark to be quiet.  Mark's face suddenly went glum.

The trucker walked right over to Mark and held out his hand, "I love you're show."

"You're a fan?", Mark looked excited again.

"Hell yea.", Skyler said. "I plan my stops around Cyborg Wars and Cycle Heaven.  I'm a trucker."  The trucker inadvertently over-explained.

Mark looked at Joe totally confused eyebrows raised.  He really wants to say something, Joe thought.

After a moment of awkward silence Lucy said, "Joe why don't you and Mark unload the van."

"Right, good.", Joe said awkwardly and quickly headed for the door.

"I'll help too.", Kento said too seemingly catching on.

"Skyler, do you want to see all our cyborgs from the past two years?"

"Absolutely.", Skyler was grinning.

Mark was left standing where he was as Skyler followed Lucy to less used far end of the shop.  He looked kind of miffed.  Joe waved to him and mouthed, "Come on."

Mark's eyebrows dipped to his eyelids as he shrugged his shoulders.  He mouthed "Why?"

"Come on, lazy bum.",  Joe said.  Mark reluctantly started outside.

As soon as the door closed Mark turned to Joe, "Is that the trucker?"

"Yep, he doesn't know it's us.", Joe said.

"Us who?", Said Mark

"Us the team?", Kento said smiling.

"Who's the team?", Mark said to Kento.

"Which team?", Kento said grinning.

"I'm asking you.", Mark said exasperated.

"Asking us what?", Joe asked catching on to the Joke.  He couldn't help but grin.

"Asking you.", Mark said a little red in the face.  He pointed at Joe.

"Asking me what?", Joe asked with a strait face.  He couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.  He fell on the concrete.

"What's so funny?  Why are you laughing.", Mark was almost yelling now.

That just made the guys laugh more.

After a full minute of laughter Kento was the first to compose himself.  He stood up and explained to a cross-armed Mark.  "I think what was going on was, Joe was afraid of you gushing all over the trucker.  You would scare him off."

Mark looked kind of embarrassed, his face turned red.

Joe scrapped himself off the ground, "He's a big Team A fan."

"I figured that out now.", Mark said still a little red.

"You are such a nerd.", Joe said.

"You're a grease monkey", Mark replied.

"Nerd", Joe repeated smiling.

"Grease monkey.", Mark replied.

"Guys, the van?", Kento looked them both over with a crooked smile.

"Right",  Joe walked over to the van and opened the back.

Mark and Kento started unloading toolboxes, computers and boxes of gear from the van.  Joe was staring off into space. It's too bad about Lucy, he thought.  She was a great boss.  Nice body too.  She was really good last night.  Joe was grinning.  It's not that bad that she's leaving.

The next time they were all outside, Kento interrupted their work.  "Mark figured them out."

Joe stopped in his tracks.  He immediately knew what Kento meant.  "How do they work?"

Mark was suddenly smiling again.  "I typed 'help'."

"Get out of here.", Kento said.  "I thought it was some elaborate hack."

"Nope.  There is zero security on this things once you know how to connect.  All you need is an ultrasound device and the know how.", Mark looked a little more glum.

"That could be dangerous on a battlefield.", Joe said.

"Definitely a prototype.", Kento remarked.

"Good thing too, I think we'd be nowhere right now if they weren't wide open.", Mark said.

"Where are we?  Can they do anything?", Joe asked?

"I don't know for sure but I examined an internal table."  Mark explained,  "I think I made a nanotech nutrient soup with the right ingredients.  It took 2 hours and a chemistry book along with that internal table to figure out how to add every needed atom and molecule and not make it not explode.  Kento was a big help with that."

"Explode?", Joe sounded confused.

"They require about 30 different elements in 50 different molecules in abundance in order build a new nanite.  Their design seems very complex and they only have a few tools each.", Kento stated.

"Holy crap", Joe look shocked. "They can reproduce?"

"I put about fifty of them in a tub of stuff and told them to build fifty thousand more of themselves.", Mark smiled, "So far so good. Who's the nerd now?"

"Uh, still you.", Joe replied.

"Right, OK.  I guess thats true.", Mark looked confused.

"If this works I have some colleges I need to mail these too.",  Kento casually stated.  Both Joe and Mark looked shocked.

"Hello?  Scourge of the earth? Tools of terrorists? Hundred thousand dollar reward?  Treason?  Any of this sound familiar from the radio and the TV?",  Mark sounded stressed out.

"Mark, do you believe any of it?   What are we trying to do here?  Keep these for ourselves so we can hold our breath underwater?  Think long term, do you think you are safe from the federal government without involving other people?  You think you can go it alone?"

"No, not really.", Mark sounded ashamed.

"Nor do I.  You have to trust someone sometime.  Now it's do or die.", Kento paused " "Anyway one hundred thousand ain't that much these days.", Kento smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Right.", Joe said sarcastically.  He turned back towards the door with the tool box he as carrying.  How long before they arrested him?  Would it happen on Tuesdays meeting at the hospital?  A week later?  A month?  I have to get Kento to show me some Kempo, I can't lose a fight in the joint.  I'll be dead.  Joe looked glum as he worked.

After a few minutes the gloomy trio, finished all the small stuff. Joe pulled Marksman's tread remote out of a cardboard box and guided it down the vans ramp and inside. Joe could have sworn he saw something move inside the truck as he drove the robot inside.  Joe resisted the urge to stare at the truck.  Was it SG's wife?  

Joe led the robot through the main door as Skyler watched mouth agape.

"Is this the new Cyborg?", Skyler asked.

"It's Marksman in the sheet metal.", Lucy said, a little proud.  "These guys are brilliant."

"Nah just lucky.", Joe said.  He winked at her.

They all walked over to Skyler and Lucy.  

"So Lucy's given me the grand tour.  I just have one question.  What is that?  Last years lunch?", Skyler pointed at a covered clear glass bowl with foamy muddy grayish water floating in it.  Duct tape held an ultrasound paddle to the makeshift cover and held the cover to the bowl.  The paddle was attached to a miniature pc with just a power cable plugged into it next to the bowl.  The tiny computer was on.

Joe didn't need an explanation to know what it was.  His heart jumped.  They all stared at Skyler as if he was a martian.  Great, Joe thought, the cat is out of the bag.  After our reaction he'll know something is up.  Joe wished his arm computer was on so he could send a message to the other guys.  What should I say?

"Skyler, I need to know something in earnest from you.", Kento started  "Do you trust the government?"

Joe stopped breathing as the trucker raised his eyebrows to answer.

"Hell no!  Not even a little.", Skyler said with extra twang.

"Do you ever break stupid laws?", Kento asked.

Lucy glared at Kento, "Bob!"

Joe looked at her, eyebrows raised.  I trust Kento, he's insane, but I trust him.

"Yea of course. Not that anyone would notice half the time.", Skyler smiled.

"They might notice us.  Those are government nanites.  Joe got them in his blood when he went the hospital.  He exposed the lie to us.",  Kento kept it simple.

"Aw come on you're kidden right?", Skyler's smile was fading.  "You're not kidding."

The group was silent.

"You all think I'm gonna turn you in don't you?  Well I'm thinking about it.  Why don't you tell me the whole story?",  Skyler sounded stern.

Lucy looked distraught, even frightened.  Like she might start to cry.

Joe jumped in first. "There was an accident.  Remember that month our matches were rescheduled?"

SG nodded.

Joe continued, "I wrecked my car and died."

Mark jumped in, "Nearly died.  Joe lost to much blood.  His aunt who is working on a research for this army company MUR or something."

Kento cut him off "M I R."

"Right", Mark said, "Anyway he was taken to her hospital.  She put them in him to save his life.  Joe heard he had nanites in his blood and stole a drop of blood."

"Stole his own blood?", Skyler sounded confused.  He was visibly thinking.

Joe jumped in, "She got in a lot of trouble, I have a lawyer meeting Tuesday."

Mark continued, "We borrowed a microscope and figured out how to control them."

Skyler's eyes widened, "Why didn't they just do a blood transfusion?"

Everyone looked at Joe, hesitant to reveal his sensitive secret.

Joe sighed, "I'm a hemophiliac.  More blood wouldn't help if wounds don't close."

"Oh", Skyler looked lost in thought again.

Kento took his turn, "We are reproducing the nanites so we can try them on Joe again.  We think we may be able to help people like him long term."

Skyler's face relaxed a little.  It looked as if they were making progress.  "Can I see the microscope?"

"Sure", Kento responded.

As they walked over to the microscope Joe noticed that Lucy just stood there silently crying.  He put his arm around her and held her to his shoulder.  She must be worried about Finny if he turns us in, Joe thought.

Skyler looked back at the couple and grimaced a little.  Joe led her over to the microscope.

Kento waited for Lucy and Joe to catch up.  "This was recorded a few days ago.  See the nanite.  That blob next to it is glucose.  Watch it eat it."

"Wow.",  was all Skyler could say.

Mark continued, "The weird thing is they use a variant of something called Propensky gate to eat.  About six years ago Dr. Propensky engineered a mechanism to mechanically imitate osmosis at the cellular scale for almost any molecule.  He disappeared and several rebuttals were published that are accepted as fact today.  Yet his theorys seem to be layed out right in front of us, used in these machines."

Joe said, "Somebody's lying at the top."

Skyler looked a little suspicious, "Why would they lie about it.  Why not just make a law."

Kento replied, "Because there is no way to enforce a prohibition.  Not as long as the Internet exists."

Mark brought up a text terminal on the computer next to the microscope.  "This is the login to one of the actual nanties.  We were able to figure out how to communicate through ultrasound.  It was actually pretty easy to access them."

Skyler's brow was furrowed, "Why so easy?"

"We don't think they had a choice.  The computer controlling each nanite is very slow and simple.  It barely supports a command interpreter.  They use a simple hardware addressing scheme to address network communications.  Lots of direct register manipulation and no memory protection.", Mark smiled.

SG looked confused. "Huh?"

Joe looked right at Mark, "Nerd."

"Grease monkey."

Kento jumped in, "They are very simple, like PC's running DOS in 1980."

"Oh OK, I remember DOS." Skyler's face lit up, and then sunk. "I'm getting old."

Skyler looked at Kento, "Who knows about this?"

"We have been trying to build a web of people we can trust.  We suspect that we can cure most disease with variants of these nanites."

Lucy looked furious.  She raised her voice over Kento's, "What is this we.  I told you I'm out of your crazy schemes.  I have a daughter to look after.  Skyler's going to go tell the cops and I'll never see my daughter again."  She started to cry again.

"Now wait, I didn't say that", Skyler looked offended.

They were all quiet while Lucy sobbed on Joe's shoulder.

SG broke the silence.  "Why trust me with this?  What good does it do you?"

Mark replied as he typed.  "We saw you in action. Look."

Mark played the video and blew up the shot of Skyler.

Skyler's jaw dropped again.

Joe had a strait face.  "You might have saved my life."

Kento chimed in. "It was a car-jacking trap. One guy was feigning death to draw us in."

"That was you guys.  Wow.  Not what I was expecting today.", Skyler looked a bit glazed over.  He pulled up a chair and sat down.  The chair creaked.

"I heard about those bastards on the CB."  Skyler stared into space as he talked.  "A buddy of mine saw the same thing in the Bronx."

The group was silent.  Joe wondered if they misjudged the trucker.

"What you did on the side of the Expressway that day was selfless.  I just can't believe the government would lie for so long about this.  Six years.  Stealing your own blood.",  the trucker was mumbling to himself.

Mark spoke up.  "I even gave you a name.", he held up a printout of the trucker's still.  With the words "Shotgun Trucker Hero.", written across the bottom.

SG looked up and smiled.  "Shotgun Trucker.  Heh it doesn't get better than that."

Suddenly Skyler looked up and grinned.  "It matches my Anagram, SGT.  Shot Gun Trucker.  I've got that on everything."  Skyler pointed at his large belt buckle.  

He sat for a minute and his face relaxed.  "It must be fate."  He stood up and stuck out his hand for Kento to shake.  "You've convinced me.  You're secret is safe on one condition.",  Skyler walked to the next workbench and grabbed a pen and paper.  "Here is my email, I want all the dirt on your team as it happens."

Kento smiled warmly, "Deal."  They shook.

That was a little scary, Joe though.

Lucy looked up at Skyler and then at Kento.  Her face as red with anger, "Here's the first rumor.  I'm selling the team."  Lucy broke away from Joe and ran to her small office by Finny's play area slamming the door.

Mark looked crushed.  He sat down.

Shotgun looked at Kento, "She doesn't trust me does she?"

"Me either.  She will.  Give her time.", Kento looked sad.

SGT shook everyones hand.  "Goodbye gentlemen, we will meet again.  Say goodbye to Lucy for me."

"Later.", Joe replied.

Skyler walked out of the shop.

I'm pretty sure Lucy doesn't really want to be alone, Joe thought.  He followed her into the office.

Mark just sat there shaking his head.
\chapter{}
Thank God Scott won't be there.  That idiot would tell him about the nanites and then sue him for listening.  MIR won't win this one.  Marcie will be forced to weasel us out of it to save her own hide.  Dr. Graceland gazed at the ceiling as she placed her hand on id scanner.  She read the small sign next to the door "Hyperresteptory Dysfunction Study.  Nuclear Materials, Access Restricted."  Teressa frowned, not even the janitor believes that.  Too out of the norm.

Teressa swiped her id card through the slot beside the door and walked into the two doored room known as a man trap.   The Whitewalled space was just big enough for a stretcher and two nurses, with one window.  The guard smiled and buzzed her through.  Dr. Graceland waved.

Teressa walked through the mostly empty wing to her inside office.  I hope Joe will make it on time.  This is causing more problems than he realizes.  Marcie has already threatened to fire me, and the study is practically shut down at this point.

She walked into her office and shut the door behind her.  She grabbed the receiver off her phone and she dialed as she walked around the desk.

"Hello", A deep gravely voice answered.

"Sergio", Teressa answered back, "How are you."  Teressa's heart fluttered a bit.

"Good good, it's wonderful to hear from you.",  Teressa could hear him smile.   "You don't visit enough."

"I've been really busy here at the glue factory.  The study has gotten a lot of funding and there's too much to do.", Dr. Graceland lied.  "I miss you guys."

"Are you looking for Joe?", Sergio asked.

"Yes, he's supposed to be here at one.  He has to be on time this time."

"He left a half hour ago, what's so important?",  Sergio inquired?

"He has an interview with MIR.  The company that makes that hyperrespertory goo needs to talk to him about what he felt when he woke up.", Teressa hated lying to Sergio like this.  It was for his protection.

"Oh. OK.  He's not in any trouble is he.  He's such a troublemaker."

"No not really, but he would be if he didn't show up.  Sergio I'll call you tonight."

"It's good to hear your voice.", Sergio said gently.

"You too.", Dr. Graceland forgot her troubles for just one second.

"Bye."

"Goodbye."

Teressa hung the phone up and felt the tears welling up in her eyes.  How much longer did he want them to wait.  "No, I must be more than human.", Teressa said to no one.  She put both hands on her desk to hold herself up.  It was to no avail she fell in her chair.  She sat a quietly sobbed as she thought about her sister and her widower, and herself.  She had been alone for five years.

She was interrupted by her phone.  Dr. Graceland picked it up. "Hello", she said meekly.  Oh know, she thought, what if it's Scott?

"Hi, Dr. Graceland you have a young visitor in the ER."

"Hi Louis.  I'll be right down.", Teressa felt a little better.  She checked her mascara in a small mirror on her desk.

Dr. Graceland made her way down two floors and across the hospital to the emergency room.

"Joe, hi. I was worried you'd be late.", Teressa reached out and hugged Joe.

"Hi aunt Teressa. Not this time, I know it's important."

"How do you know, wait don't tell me yet.  Come in here."  Dr Graceland grabbed his arm and pulled him into the staff lounge.  She roamed around the lounge making sure nobody as there with them.  Then she went to the door and locked it from the inside.  

"Ok Joe.  What do you remember?"

"About what?"

"OK that's a good answer for later, but now I need you to be honest.  What do you know about your week in recovery?"

"You put nanites in me.",  Joe replied.

"And, what else?"

"You used an ultra sound machine to talk to them."

"How did you know that?"

"I figured it out."

"And what else?"

"I saw little dots when I woke up."

"OK, Joe you never opened your eyes."

Joe paused for a second, he appeared to be thinking, "Aunt Teressa, what are you involved in?"

Teressa looked shocked.

"Isn't this stuff illegal and impossible?"

The maturity of Joe's comments shocked Teressa, "Joe listen to me, very carefully.  One day we maybe soon we can talk about this, but not right now.  Right now I need to get you through this hearing."

"Hearing?"

Teressa was talking faster now.  "MIR plans to bring legal action against you and me if you have any idea what was done to you.  They would ultimately loose that battle, but could use the transcripts to identify you as a national security threat.  They could throw you in a enemy combatant clink indefinitely."

"Hearing for what?"

"Patent infringement."

Joe's jaw dropped, "I'm not selling the stuff in the mall.  What the fuck?"  He was obviously stressed out.

"Joe watch your language.  That's not the point all they have to do is get you on the record saying that you know what was done to you."

"Unlawful knowledge?"

"Yes", Teressa did her best deadpan serious look.

"How much trouble are you in?",  Joe asked again.

"I can handle myself, so long as you don't admit to any knowledge.",  Teressa tried to believe her lie.

Somebody knocked at the door of the break room.  The sound echoed off the concrete walls.  Teressa quickly walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it just enough in one motion.  A male nurse was leaning against the wall outside.  

"We will be out in five minuets.", and Teressa closed the door re locking it.

Teresa turned around to find Joe leaning and staring at the side of cabinet.

"What's the matter, Joe?",  Teressa felt her heart sink.  Maybe I came on to strong, Joe is usually so upbeat and self-assured.

"Aunt Teressa, I need to tell you something.", Joe looked sullen.

"What Joe?"

The door knocked again.  A voice came through the door.  "Come on Doc I'm hungry, and I've only got 10 minutes."

Dr Graceland was a little annoyed.  Obviously Joe knew something else that he's rather keep his silence about.  I really don't need to interrupt him.  She stomped over the half refrigerator and grabbed the first soda she saw.  While grabbing a donut out of the box on the counter, she asked Joe, "Joe what do you have to tell me."

Joe continued to look sullen.  She knew that look meant some kind of guilt.

Teresa stared at him as she walked toward the door.  Opening it again, she shoved the donut and cola through a small crack in the door.  As she closed the door again, she asked Joe "Is there something I need to know?"

"Hey this donut is squished!", came the voice through the door.

"Deal with it Doug."  She yelled back through the door.

Just then Teressa's cell phone beeped.  She tapped a button on the belt hung phone and it and voice sounded aloud from it.  "Dr. Graceland, the MIR team is here.  They want to start now by the wing.  See you there.", it as Marcie's voice.

"Damn.",  Teressa said aloud. "Joe remember you know nothing and you don't remember waking up."

"Right."

"Afterwards I told you that I gave you a blood transfusion.  Got it?", Teressa asked.

"Got it."

"Lets Go.", She hoped he had it.
\chapter{}
"Dr Graceland, good to see you.", Nathan Jones smiled.

Nathan was a short but muscular man.  He wore a light gray fitted suit with a blue power tie.  He carried a simple leather briefcase. He was accompanied by another muscular tall man who looked young and distracted.  I bet you can't wait to eat Joe alive, Teressa thought.  "Hello Nathan. How are the wife and kids.", Teressa acted.  

"Good, I miss them.", Nathan seemed authentically distraught.  

"Nathan, Marcie, meet Joe Vallone."  Teressa smiled.

Joe stretched out his hand and smiled.

Nathan shook his hand firmly.  "Mr. Vallone so much adue over you.  You must be a little nervous."  

Joe stared into Nathan's eyes. "Not really.", Joe's voice was extra deep.

"This is my associate, Council Laurence.  He will be taking minuets for the meeting.", Nathan spoke.

Charles Laurence shook Joe's hand.  "Firm grip.", Laurence also locked eyes with Joe.

"I work with my hands.", Joe grumbled, looking stern.

"Gentlemen, Maam, shall we sit.", Nathan inquired.  As the group walked to the table Joe did not take his eyes off Nathan.

Teressa needed to break the uncomfortable silence.  Joe's socially awkward speech might land him in a military jail this time.  She asked the obvious question, "So gentlemen, what brings you here?"

"This is our attempt a civil discourse.", Nathan replied as matter of fact.  "We strongly suspect that a serious violation of patent law by manner of contract breach has occurred.  We would prefer not to discuss the case until the court reporter arrives.  We expect the the testimony today will be important to our case."

"Aren't we waiting for a judge as well?"  Teressa asked. 

Nathan continued, "This is not a formal hearing as no charges have been brought.  I would prefer to maximize the integrity of the information gathering stage."

Teressa was fuming.  She saw right through their euphemisms. Where do they get off dragging us in here when they don't know anything.  "So this is just a fishing expedition?" 

Marcie Keith chimed in, "Teressa that is not appropriate."

"No, it's not.", Joe reverberated through the carpeted room.

"What?" Nathan turned to Joe, "What is not appropriate?", crossing his arms.

Oh no, Joe shut up.  Don't be macho, that's just what he wants.

"To take time from doctors for legal games.",  Joe's pronunciation was unusually concise, he mimicked the lawyers tone.

Marcie spoke again.  "Joe, you don't understand the nature of our work." 

Joe was visably fighting brewing rage.  He turned to Dr. Keith "OK.  How am I wrong."

Joe that's my boss, Teressa worried.

Nathan stated, "She can't tell you Mr. Vallone."

"Why not?  What's the big secret?", Joe taunted Nathan.

Council Laurence chimed in, "It's a trade secret Mr. Vallone."

"I thought it was a patent case?",  Joe asked.  

"It's a contract case.", Nathan answered.  He was obviously frazzled by Joe's hostility.

"So it's whatever you feel like.", Joe was smirking a bit.

Teressa had to stop Joe before he said something dumb.  She reached over and grabbed his shoulder, and looked him in the eye.

The door opened.  A small twenty something woman with long brown hair walked in the door carrying a small case.  The group sat silent glaring at each other while the woman quickly set up her computer.  Her haste seemed sensitive to the tension.

You know, Joe might just be on to something.  Nathan looks positively pissed.  Good if he thinks he's not going to get anything, then maybe he won't.

"Hello, my name is Christina Douglas.", the slender woman broke the silence with far more indifference than her posture might suggest.  "I am ready when you are."

"Hello Ms. Douglas.", Nathan acknowledged her greeting.

The group sat silent while Joe stared between Charles and Nathan.  Men and their pissing contests, Terrisa thought.

Council Jones turned away from Joe loosing his scowl, "Ms. Douglas, my name is Council Nathan Jones, I represent MIR corp."

"My name is Council Charles Laurence. I am co-council for MIR corp."

"I am Marcie Keith, Supervising Doctor on the Hyperresperitory Dysfunction project."

"I am Joe Vallone, and I am a patient at this hospital."

"I am Teressa Graceland, and I was Joe's acting Doctor, and I am part of the project.  I am also his Aunt."

The reporter raised an eyebrow at her last comment.  "Is anyone representing Mr. Vallone, Dr. Graceland or Dr. Keith?"

"No need.", Nathan Jones smiled warmly.

Joe ears were turning red.

"The time is twelve fifty five.",  Christina looked at her watch.  "Please raise your right your right hand and say I do when I finish.  Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

The group spoke in unison, "I do."

"Dr. Keith, would you please repeat that, I didn't hear you."

"I do."

Nathan Jones glared at Joe and rifled through his brief case for a few minutes.  Rustling papers cut the silence.  Joe's return stare gave him the look of a hungry wolf.  Teressa worried about Joe loosing his cool.  He's only twenty.  Any proceedings under oath are practically built to be the undoing of angry twenty year olds.

"Mr Vallone, what relationship do you have with Dr. Graceland?"

"Can I plead the fifth?", Joe smirked, pleased with himself.

"You may at your own peril.", Council Laurence forced a return smile.

"She's my aunt."

"Interesting that she is you aunt to you before your doctor.  I wonder if the that relationship is mirrored in the other direction."

Joe and Teressa talked over each other. 

"Of course, he's my nephew." became muddled with Joe's "No it's not."

"What?", the reporter asked.

"I said, of course he's my nephew.  It would be be impossible for me to ignore my blood relationship with him."

Nathan Jones smiled. "I'm more interested in what Joe said", he rasped sarcastically.

"No, it's not.", Joe replied deep and cold.

"Not, what?", Nathan replied, still smirking.

"Not interesting, it's a dumb question.", Joe replied.

Teressa grabbed Joe shoulder again.  Restraining herself form digging her nails in.  Why was Joe so angry?  Did he know more than we talked about?

Nathan's smile cracked just a little.

"I, nor the court am aware of the state of your relationship with Dr. Graceland.  You're hostility is unwarranted."

"Is it?", Joe inquired.

"It is.", replied Charles.  "We are assessing the integrity of our trade secret.  Background on the private lives of the parties involved are fair game according to our NDA."

"Non-Disclosure Agreement.", Dr Keith chimed in.

"I didn't sign anything.", Joe remarked.

"You're aunt did.", Nathan replied slightly flushed.  "This talking out of turn would not be tolerated in a courtroom."

I can't believe he took the bait, Teressa thought.  These guys obviously don't have much experience as trial lawyers.  She caught herself smiling slightly.

"So?"

"So what?", Nathan asked exasperated.

"Exactly.", Joe responded grinning.

Charles tried to regain control of the situation, "Mr. Vallone this is no laughing matter.  We believe you were unlawfully administered our patented hyperesperatory formula.  This could have serious implications for your Aunt's standing on this project, her fiscal status, and her license to practice medicine.", his adult tone didn't match his young face.

Terrisa was stewing. Joe don't fall for it, she thought, it was my decision.

Joe looked at his aunt.  She nodded solemnly.  She almost regretted doing so, she was having so much fun.

Joe sat quietly letting his smile fade.

"I know this is important.", Joe paused looking for the words, "But I was uncontentious."

"OK, that is good start", Council Lawrence continued, "Tell us everything you know in order."

Joe looked right at Nathan who was still visibly fuming.  Then he looked to his aunt who gave him a gentle nod.

"I have hemophilia.  I got into a bad car accident when my lower control arm broke in my Camaro.  I woke up after the car rolled and I was bleeding alot, I thought I was going to die.  I woke up four days later in this hospital.  My aunt told me the next day after I woke up, I almost died and she had to give me several blood transfusions."

Pens scribbled away as Joe spoke.

"That's why it's crazy that my aunt's in trouble.  She saved my life, I'd be dead."

"Joe why is it that you think your Aunt saved you?"

"Because she gave me that goo you make."

Pens scribbled even faster.

Oh Joe, what did you say.

"Mr. Vallone, you just said she told you that you received multiple blood transfusions."

"It's obvious.", Joe replied stumbling a little.  "It's obvious that she wouldn't be in trouble, unless she gave me your stuff."

"Why do you say that?",  Nathan chimed back in.

"I'm here.", Joe said innocently.

He can lie pretty well, Teressa thought.  I'm glad we kept on him all these years.

"Dr. Graceland is this true?  Did you administer the hyperresperatory formula to your nephew?", Nathan was asking the questions again.  He looked calmer now.

"Yes."

"What justification can you offer for your contractual breach?", Nathan asked, in tone that rang just a little snotty.

"It was life and death.  Joe was missing 3 pints of blood when he arrived.  His blood pressure was nearing 60 over 40, brain death levels.  He was bleeding too fast,  We couldn't give him any blood protein, cardiac arrest or stroke would have been instant since the blood was moving so slowly.  Blood transfusions weren't making any headway because his injuries were too numerous and the bleeding too rapid.  The only clear non-fatal path was increasing the blood density, a side effect of the formula."

Teressa felt terrible as she told the story.

The lawyers paused and scribbled more notes.

"How did you get the formula, didn't you have to transverse the lock down room and the distance of this wing to get the formula and the activation and mixture tuning equipment?  It must take five minuets to drag all that stuff to the ER.",  Nathan seemed to be enjoying his task.

"I got the call from the EMT's", Teressa started to sniffle, "I made the decision before he arrived."

"I have the call record right here.", Nathan said shuffling through more papers. He pulled a folder out and slammed it down on the table.   "I believe the ambulance tech used the words, "'Slowly deteriorating condition' not exactly a death sentence."

Joe growled a little.

Teressa could hold it in any longer she started to cry.  "I'm sorry, he was going to die.  I couldn't let him die too."  Through the sounds of her sorrow, Teressa heard Joe's sneaker squeak as it twisted on the floor.  She was sure it meant he was angry.  I don't want him to see me like this, she thought.  She tried to hold back, but that just made her cry more.

"Die too?  Who died before?", Nathan asked.

"Mr. Jones", Marcie chimed in, "Her sister, Joe's mother passed away some years ago."

"Oh.", Nathan was no long so sure of himself.

"Council Jones, I was privy to that call"  Marcie said, devoid of emotion. "I made a judgment call."

Nathan looked surprised.  "Really.", now he was clearly caught off guard.

Marcie continued, "Based on our experience with this technician, and the timber of his voice this was a warning of the most serious condition possible.  In hindsight, it turns out my judgment was correct."

Teressa looked up at Marcie's expressionless face through her tear soaked eyes. She couldn't believe her ears.  Marcie just lied for me under oath.  She felt Joe put his arm around her, she started to cry again.  He's alive.  That's all that matters.
\chapter{}
He could taste the bile in throat.  Rage against his embarrassment coursed through his veins like fire, flexing his muscles.  Any thoughts of his loving family drifted from his conscious mind.  I have been humiliated by a sick child, Nathan thought.  He mocks me, just out of reach, certain he cannot be hurt.  He is weaker than I, and will be punished and made an example of.

He knows about the nanites.  He risks everything I stand for, for his foolish pride.  He laughs and smirks and thinks this is some kind of game.  People will kill us for these, all of us.  They hate us.  They hate him and he doesn't even know it, the fool.  If Vallone thinks they won't just slit his thought and throw him in an icy river for a drop of blood, he is mistaken.  We will all pay for that mistake unless I stop him.

Nathan stared with bloodshot eyes at his scibbled note pad.  I don't see how to get him.  I must face Scott and tell him Vallone knows.  Trembling with anger, Nathan sprung up from the bed in his hotel room and reached for the phone.

"Hello.", a familiar twang rang out across the line.

"Hello Scott, it's Nathan.", Nathan clenched his fists.

"Well, Mr. Jones.  What is your assessment.", Scott Conner unusually flat and calm.

Nathan felt his face pull taught and his gut wrench as he spoke his mind. "He knows."

"By God, good thing we caught him.  Did you send him to Guantanamo?", Scott's voice lifted a little, and his twang returned.

"No."

"What?!"

"No, sir.  Charlie and I could not find even one inference in the transcripts."

"What in the hell are you talking about?  Failure is not an option Sargent Jones.  Did you just tell me that he knows and we can't jail him?"

Nathan was back in boot camp, "He didn't admit anything sir."

"Then how do you know he knows?", Conner was calming down.

"His tone sir, I think he was mocking me."

"Oh this is too much.  You let him mock you?  Did he hurt your feelings?  I don't need to remind you, of all people, just how high the stakes are here." 

Now Scott mocked him as well.  Nathan felt his blood boil. Nathan tried to clear his head, I have to to think right now.

"Mr. Vallone was miffed about somthing from the start.  He was angry when he walked in the door."

"I see.",  Scott trailed off.  

"Our consipiricy strategy failed when Marcie Keith vouched for Dr. Graceland's interpetation of the EMT's commentary on his near fatal state.  Sir we were unprepared for her intervention on Dr. Graceland's behalf."

"It appears Dr. Keith has forgotten who owns her toys.", Scott was thinking out loud.

"Nathen, you will, fax those transcripts to the office at the first opportunity. Somebody will find somthin here.", Scott's accent was almost unintelligible.  "Pack your bags, you're with me on the big show. See your black ass at oh eight hundred at my office for a breakfast and a prep."

"Yes Sir"

"Call me Scott, Nathan.  We're on the same side."

"Yes Scott."

I know somebody at MIR will find his mistake, I know I'm right.  Vallone's arrogence would undue America's future.  Council Jones smiled, the US would be a different place without Scott, he thought, he makes it happen.
\chapter{}
"Mommy, why are you sad?"

Damn she noticed.  How stupid of me how could she not.  Lucy hung her head.

"I'm not sad honey, just thinking."

"No you're not", Finny crossed her arms and leaned against her mothers desk sealing the file drawer behind her with a clank.  "You're sad."

She must have seen me crying this morning.

"Darling, I'm not sure what to do."

"About what?"

How can I simplify this for her, I don't want to hurt her fragile ego.

"We may have to leave, because Joe may have to leave."

"Joe's leaving?",  Finny's eyes opened wide.

"I don't see how he can't."

"Why?"

"Some people are mad at him."

"Why?"

"Because he asks why, and how to much."

"Really?"

Lucy never quite put it that way before.  The whole thing was horrible.  How could Joe let himself get involved in such craziness.  Was the pain of his disease so terrible?  Lucy started to cry.

"I love you mommy, don't cry.", Finny ran over to her mother and hugged her leg.  She started to cry too.

"I like Joe. He's nice.", Finny sniffled.

"Me too.", Lucy felt more than she admited.  She hugged her daughter a little tighter.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Hold on.", Lucy yelled through the door.  She grabbed some kleenex and blew her nose, while wiping her eyes with her forearm.  

"Hold on." Finny said as she imitated Lucy and wiped her eyes on her sleve the same way.

Lucy smiled.

"Come in."

The smells of industrial lubricants swept in as Mark opened the door.

"Hi, Lucy.  Sorry to bother you.  Do you have a minute."

"Sure, Mark."

Mark walked in a closed the door.  He fumbled as he pushed his clarks up on his head.

"It's about the shop, should Finny stay for this?", Mark asked.

Not missing a beat Finny chimed in.

"Yes!", she said crossing her arms.  "I'm mom's helper."

Mark looked at Lucy.

He didn't seem to let on that he noticed her smudged mascara.  Perhaps I can pull it together after all, Lucy thought.  I think she can stay, I'm sure we can speak in euphimisims.  Mark isn't that dense.

Lucy shrugged and smiled.  "You heard her."

Finny nodded smuggly.

He started right in, "Lucy, please don't sell the shop."

"Mark I have to now.  I can't afford the risks.  I have too many roots to rapidly relocate like you guys can.", Lucy tried to talk above Finny's head.

"I guess I see that.", Mark said hanging his head. "You're the best boss I've ever had, and really important to the team.  I don't think we can do it without you."

Lucy looked deadpan.  "Mark. I'm only you're second boss ever."

Finny giggled.

"Oh, yea well I guess that's true, but you're still the best." Mark paused, "Well you never know where this can go."

Lucy cut him off. "Yes I do, and it makes me really nervous."

"OK, maybe I can work for you later if this all works out."

"If it does, I would like that."

"Deal?"

"Deal.", Lucy reached out and shook his hand.  

"Oh I just picked up three smaller ultrasound pannels. They'll fit real good on."

Lucy cut him off again.  "Mark, I don't want us to know."

"Oh. Right. OK. I'll be in the shop.", Mark started backing out of the office.

"OK." Lucy smiled 

"Working."

"OK."

"On the cyborg."

Finny giggled

"Right, the cyborg.", Lucy repeated.

The door swung shut.  Lucy knew he wasn't really going to work on the cyborg.  Thank god he finally gets it, she thought.  

"Come on Finny.  Lets set you up in your playroom.  Mommy has to make some phone calls."

"OK.", Finny seemed to believe her mother this time.  Lucy held her hand as they walked to her playroom beside the office.

Lucy closed the gate behind her and folded the japanese style folding divider up on the side of the playroom.  The guys probably wouldn't be welding or using the air tools today.  Finny liked to talk to them and watch when it was safe.

"Mommy, is Joe comming today?",  Finny asked seizing the opportunity.

"I don't know.", Lucy thought trailing off.

She thought of Joe's smooth hands running down her naked back.  She shivered.  I hope he gets away with it.  I want him to stay here with me.  I want him to hold me every night and love me every day.  If he could just come to his senses, recognise everything he is giving up.  I could love him in ways he doesn't even imagine yet.

Thunk.  The door slammed open.  Cold air rushed in.

"Joe, how did it go?", Mark saw Joe past the door first.

Lucy stood staring entranced by her daydream.  Desire and shock swirling together.  He slammed that door pretty hard, she thought.

"I'll tell you."

Joe came into view.  His face was twisted with anger.  Lucy felt her stomach wrench.

"Everything Kento said is true."

"What?", Mark easily picked up on Joe's foul mood.

Joe sounded off, "They hate what I know. They hate who I am. They don't love the law, they love power."

Lucy put her hand over her mouth.

"Sound's pretty bad."

"No, it was good.  I saw my enemy.  He blinked."

Mark stood mouth agape.  Lucy was frozen in her tracks.

"I don't think they even know how it works.  We have to expose these guys.  We go all the way."

"OK.", Mark nodded.  "I've never heard you say so many words in one hour.  I'm in!"  
Lucy's trance was broken.  All those months of waiting for secret desires, for nothing.  Joe would get away.

Mark looked excited, "OK here's what I found out yesterday."

I can't believe how long I waited.  I should have asked him sooner.  One way or another, in a few days he'll be gone.  I'll never see him again.

Mark continued, "It seems they are tuned to you're blood type with this variable.", Mark pointed to the screen.

Lucy was still frozen where she stood.  He doesn't even see me.  He's already moved on.  She couldn't hold it in anymore.  Her eyes started to cry.  Why can't I stop crying.  Lucy hid her face and ran back into the office.

This is crazy.  What am I doing.  He's just a kid.  The door closed behind Lucy.  Of course he picked some adventure over an older woman.  She started sobbing.

Lucy felt a hand on her shoulder.  She turned around and there he was.  She tried to push him away, and he pulled himself back to her.

"Lucy I'm sorry.  I didn't know you were there."

"I don't even know why I care so much.", Lucy sniffled looking down.

"I didn't how I felt about you, until now.",  Joe mumbled.

"Why not stop?  It's so cruel."

"I can't."

"I wish we had started sooner.  Why do I feel this way now.", Lucy looked up into his eyes.

Joe turned away and stared into space.  "I love people when it's too late."

It hit Lucy like a ton of bricks.  He's thinking about his mother.  I'm being so selfish, I thought it was just me losing out.

"Joe, It's not just you.  I didn't know either.", Lucy held him close.
\chapter{}
Joe's eyes watered as he stared at the computer screen.  His eyes scanned over the lines of text Mark had input into the computer.  He was methodically testing the nanites with slight variations on each command.

The amber text jumbled along the left margin of the monitor.  Long rows of sequentially incrementing strings briefly followed by flurries of what looked to be less systematic text.  That must be where he found a different response, Joe thought.  The only constant in the terminal was a large number in the upper right hand corner of the screen.  That number must this nanite's address, Joe thought.  Nice hack, Mark.

Joe pressed the down arrow as he perused the lengthy history of Mark's all night session at the computer.  I don't have any idea what any of this means, Joe thought.

"Hey Mark.", Joe nudged him.

Mark put his hand up to signal stop, and pushed his Clarks up on his head.  

Joe wasn't offended, he knew that the motion was meant for his clarks.  

"I don't understand what you are doing.  What can't these things do?"

"Oh lets see.  There's about 2 megs of storage in each nanite, so you can do anything you can fit in two megs of 7 bit."

Joe stared at him blankly.

"Basically it seems like there is a simple high level robotic language and a simpler pseudo command shell.  Most data needs to be separately coded into a simple hex database which seems to be a straightforward 128 bit character set with a simple linked list.  The 128 bit stuff threw me, international letters didn't seem a concern in the character map.  It's only memory though, all communications are a variant of ascii."

"Uh, secret US government military project.", Joe sounded sarcastic.  

"Oh right, I guess they wouldn't care would they.", Mark nodded his head and open his eyes wide.  "So it seems Propensky gate has been expanded from the famed failed design.  It now can suck in or spit out not only carbon atoms but hydrogen, oxygen, and two more I haven't figured out yet."

"So Propensky was right?"

"Definitely, and he is smarter than people originally thought.  These nanites actually logically string up too 32 Propensky gates together so you can set up a lock for a particular molecules key.  It already has builtin routines for glucose, adrenaline, and dopamine."

"Right, glucose, cool."

"Joe think about it."

"What?"

"You don't see?"

"Don't see what?"

"It's so obvious!", Mark sounded a bit smug.

"What!", Joe was getting agitated.

"Joe these things can cure you!  Right now."

The hairs on the back of Joe's neck stood strait out.  No more build gadgets just to fix other things.  No more joint pain.  No more days of frantic worrying every time I bump into something too hard.

I don't have to be the sick man anymore.

"You're kidding.", Joe's face lit up like a ten year old at Christmas.

"Think about it, your problem is your body can't produce any of a certain type of protein.  Those protiens are just groups of molecules.  If I create a file describing a grouping of 32 unique atoms describing only that protien, nanites in your blood can absorb all the clotting protein like a very absorbent sponge."

What was Mark thinking?  "Uh that would make it worse."

Mark looked indignant.  "They could release them at the same rate your body could produce them.  You could get a shot once a year and be perfectly normal."

The gears in Joe's mind were grinding away.  "Wait how about other things like it?"

"Diabetics with no pancreatic activity could live ordinary lives.  Liver failure a joke. Sickle cell anemia, respiratory disease, any Bactria or virus, clogged arteries.  A few hours of programming for each, well maybe a few more for AIDS."

"Why not sell them?"  How long has MIR been sitting on this, Joe wondered.

"You could tell them to absorb pieces of healthy tissue too.  They'd make a great weapon since they can survive room temperature."

"Terrorism."

"Probably."

"Maybe they were trying to release a more fragile version?"

Mark sounded sarcastic, "Right that's why the first programs they wrote were adrenaline and dopamine.  Just what every ailing grandma needs."

Joe stared into the space.  He tried to imagine what boosted adrenaline, oxygen and dopamine would do to his physiology.  I'd be strong, angry, complacent, and you could hurt me and I'd live.  The grim picture lit up Joe's brain.

He mumbled a single word, "Supersoldiers."

Mark paused.  "So we have to blow this open wide open.", he looked unusually angry.

"We have to test it first.", Joe smiled.

"How?", Mark looked befuddled.

Joe surprised himself.  "On me."

"Joe that's crazy, what if there is a side effect.  If it goes wrong and we bring you to a hospital, you'll wake up in a jail cell."

"We could call my aunt."

"She'll go along with it?"

"It can't get worse for her."

Mark face reflected his skepticism, "Uh yes it can, hello jail?"

"She'll go there if we blow this open."

Mark looked remorseful, "Oh, sorry. I just thought.", and he trailed off.  Visably thinking.

Joe wondered if his aunt had thought about who she was helping.  Maybe she knows.   Maybe she thinks this will cure me?   What if she's in on it?   Even worse what if she doesn't know?  Why would she work with people like this?  I know, and I need to tell her to get out, now.

Joe cut him off, "You're right, people need the truth."  Joe wasn't so sure he believed the truth was more important than his aunt.  

"So what do we do?", Mark looked concerned.

"How many nanites have we grown?"

"About 100 million."

Joe looked surprised, "How many do we need to inject me like before"

Mark pulled his clarks over his eyes, and motioned in the air,  "Lets see That drop of blood had about 10000 nanites, times 1440 drops per pint times 5 pints times 10000 nanites.  We need 72 million nanites.  Our goo is about 20 percent nanites at this point and we have about 3 pints of it divided by twenty percent is about two giant horse needles full of nanites."

Joe winced.

"One small problem."

"What?"

"They are floating in the chemical equivalent of cyanide drain cleaner right now."

Joe was confused, "What is cyanide drain cleaner?"

Mark just shook his head, "Nothing we can inject you with grease monkey, That's all that matters."

Joe realized Mark wasn't being literal he turned a little red, "Nerd."

Mark smiled.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter because they might just kill you.  What if I set something wrong."

"Then don't change anything."

Mark looked confused, "Huh?"

"Copy the info from mine, they were already in me."

"I still need to seperate the nanite's from their birthing fluid."

"Ewww.", Joe made a face.

"I need another pair of eyes.  I need to call my cousin."

Joe winced and looked down his nose at Mark.  "Remember, he doesn't like us?"

"No he thinks we're young and foolish, it's different."

"Kento doesn't."

Mark stared into space.  He turned to Joe shaking his head, "Do you ever complete a sentence?"

"No."
\chapter{}
Kento could not even hear Joe breathing hard over their footfalls.  I can see his cheeks are flushed.  His lips are slightly open and I see his breath.   But he doesn't seem tired at all.  Kento slowed his jog from Joe's pace and examined the 20 year old's posture.  He's slouching to much but his feet are falling evenly.   He seems to be completely unfazed by the exercise.
Kento switched his half broom stick to his left hand and ran out in front of Joe as he spoke.  "Joe, watch me."  Kento pointed to Joe's right hand.  "You are bending your wrist too much on 8.  Imagine your sword is trapped between two parallel boards.  You've only got 2 inches in the third dimension.  Right now you hand would be raw meat covered in splinters."

Joe began to swing his half broomstick more evenly.

"That's good, but you are still slouching. You change the shape of your back when you slouch."

Joe straitened up.  He looked at the A-Team van as they jogged by the front gate.

"Were you looking at the van or at your sword.  You just sliced your thigh open to look at a van you just jogged by one hundered times."

Joe looked as sheepish as he could running and swinging a stick.

Kento switched the stick back to his right and began to count aloud in tune to his hand motions.

"One, Two, Three."

As they jogged around the old warehouse, Kento tried to keep his mind focused on counting aloud and performing the basic sword exercise flawlessly.

Joe spoke to Kento as they ran and swung.  "So what did you do to separate the nanites?"  Joe's stick began to wobble along it path as he spoke.

"Focus Joe.", Kento warned his student.  "I have to warn you, I do not have a complete filtering technique down yet.  This may take some time."  Unlike Joe, Kento's stick seemed to operate independently from his mouth.  

"Mark said you were almost done.", Joe uttered between breaths staring forward.

"Mark is very excited.", Kento couldn't help but smile.

"How long?", Joe asked slipping out of his routine.

Kento glanced at Joe,  "Well it all depends on the programs we wrote this morning."

"What did you write?"

"Joe, watch your extension on five.", Kento breathed.

"OK."

"We actually wrote two routines.  First we ran the soup through coffee filters.  The nanites pass right through.  We had to replace the filters many times though, they kept melting."

"Mmm soup.", Joe gasped a little.

"Then we spun the whole batch through the centrifuge.  We had to run it a couple dozen times."

"OK."

"Now the nanites are back in the bowl, mostly decontaminated" 

"OK"

"About one percent have been programed to push all non water molecules and atoms into large blobs",  Kento took a deep breath and looked at Joe, "Switch"  Kento switched his stick to his left hand.

Joe grabbed the stick with his other hand.

"What about the other ninety nine?", Joe inquired.

"Joe, counterclockwise first with the left hand." 

"Oh.", Joe awkwardly switched directions.  He turned a little red.

Kento noticed the change and complemented Joe, "You're swinging a deadly weapon while jogging for twenty minutes and holding a conversation. You're doing fine."

"Sure.", Joe was beginning to even out his pattern again.

"The other ninety nine percent are programed to absorb all glucose they can find, and swim away from the other one percent.",  Kento breathed.

"We are hoping that after enough time, all contaminants will be collected into visible floating blobs."

"How long."

"Today maybe, perhaps as long as a week away.  We'll keep checking a sample every few hours in the Microscope."

Kento simply said, "Slouching!"

"OK.", Joe stood up strait as he ran.

"How do they swim?", Joe breathed.

"They seem to have some jet system, but we can't see how the inside works. Stuff goes in holes in one end and out the other.  I don't really understand how they don't get jammed."

Kento grimaced as he jogged.  I have to tell Joe, he thought.  He may not realize how different things will be now. "Joe I'm going to mail some nanites around today."

Joe's broomstick made a smacking noise as he crashed it into his thigh.  Joe stopped running dead, eyes wide.

"What?", Joe asked rubbing his leg with an absent mind. 

"You OK?",  Kento hopped he hadn't bruised himself.

"Yea, shouldn't we hide first?", Joe asked ignoring his question.

Kento kept jogging in place, no longer practicing his forms, "I understand most people don't think like me, but we need as many people as possible to know about this.  So far we have the only hard evidence of a military cover up, a fraudulent government agency, a bogus study paid for by a mysterious budget, failed scientific analysis of a valid theory, and a secretly developed mature technology that could cure disease but is instead being tailored to build supersoldiers."

"The second they know, we know, we will either disappear or die.  Unless, we can tell enough people that they can't jail them all, this secret will die with us."

"Shit!", Joe yelled.

Joe began jogging again, faster than before.  Swinging his arm through motions that Kento taught him earlier that day.

Kento sped to catch up.  He saw the fear and anger in Joe's motions.

"Joe, sometimes it's better to hold back." 

Joe ran faster.

"You need to save that energy for the people for deserve it.",  Don't let it go now.

Joe stopped and faced Kento.

"Kento?  How can we fight them?"

"We can't alone, but if the news gets out there is a chance."

"If this gets out my aunt goes to jail."

"Who's to say that wouldn't happen anyway.  Joe in total sincerity do you believe she is a smart woman?"

"Of course."

"Why would she want to get involved in this?"

"I don't know."

"Joe, she did it to help you."

Joe stood silently, clutching his stick.

"I bet she was working on a cure for you just like us.  The difference is, she tried to work with MIR, but we see her collaborators for what they are. This is why I'm telling you to save you rage.  It's righteous, and you will need that power in the near future.  Justice is to reason, as strength is to victory.  Do not waste the power your sense of injustice affords you on fury with no good end."

"I need to talk to her."

"Now that is a good place to start. I think we are done for today.", Kento bowed forward, "You did well with the sword.",  Kento started walking but then turned, "Joe, when you talk to her you should get alot more medicine, who know when you will have health insurance or even a normal doctor again."

Joe nodded.  Looking back at Kento, Joe asked, "How long until your soup test?"

"Should be another hour."

Joe was walking fast now, he turned back to Kento as he opened the gate to the parking lot.  He looks distant, a little more adult right now, Kento thought.

"Thanks for the lesson.", Joe half smiled.

"My pleasure.", Kento smiled back and waved.

Kento noticed a familiar car at the far end of the parking lot.   It was Aman's.Somthing doesn't add up with Aman.  How does an nucular scientist even get out of Iran alive, much less into the United States?  

What are the odds of Aman finding us by chance?  Kento wondered.  I had better get those packages out soon.  Too many variables, too much left to chance.
\chapter{}
Teressa was alone in her office staring at her laptop, the faint hum of florescent lights the only noise.  The whole wing has been practically abandoned since Joe was injured.  A shrill ring pierced the silence. Teressa jumped out of her seat.   I'm really on edge, she thought.  I have to put this behind me.

"Hello, Dr. Graceland speaking."

"Aunt Teressa.", it was Joe's voice on the phone.

"Joe, you were supposed to call me yesterday."

"I'm sorry.  I was tired after the meeting.", Joe mumbled.

"How did you know I was here?  It's Sunday.  You I don't usually work today."

"I tried your house.", Several voices were audible behind Joe.  "I need to get more medicine."

Strange, he's not due for three more months, Teressa thought.   I shouldn't mention it.  This is a perfect opportunity to talk to Joe away from others ears.

"Joe, I'm on my way home I can meet you there.", Teressa lied, she wasn't planning on going home for three more hours.

Teressa heard loud voices through the phone.

"Joe, who is that?  Where are you?".

"I'm sorry Aunt Teressa.  I can't meet you today."

Oh great who knows how little protein Joe had left.  "Joe if you need more clotting protein, you should meet me today."

Teressa heard yelling in the background.  She could swear she heard an Arab accent say the words, "Stupid children, you're playing with fire."

"I'm sorry I can't.  How about tomorrow night?", Joe's pitch rose with the noise behind him.

"Stop taking chances then!", the accented voice yelled again.  Teressa realized her hands were ice cold.  

"Joe what is that yelling?"

"I'm at work.", Joe was yelling over the ruckus.  "Some argument over hydraulics."

Teressa didn't believe him.  Those people where pissed.  It sounded more like an ER than a robot shop.

"Are you sure everything is OK?"

"I have to go. See you tomorrow night.  At your house."

Click.  Teressa held the phone to her ear long enough to hear dial tone.  

Joe has never hung up on me.  Somethings not right.  Teressa pressed a button on her phone.  He called from the warehouse, she thought, pressing the call back button.

The phone rang eight times.  He was just there she thought.  She dialed his cell phone number.  It rang four times and his voice mail answered.

"Hey aunt Teressa, I'll call you soon. Leave a message."  She didn't.

Damn.  What if he hurt himself?  What if he is on his way here?

Teressa dialed again.

"Hello.",  A gruff voice answered.

"Sergio.  Somethings wrong with Joe."

"Oh no, not again.", Sergio's voice lifted and octave with stress.

"He called asking for more medicine, and there was some sort of argument going on at the robot garage."

"He has two months worth here.", Sergio reported.

Teressa paused to think.  "Maybe he hurt himself?" She wondered aloud.  "He might have been trying to go my place because it's the closest."

A risky injury would explain the admonishment she heard.

"Are you there now?  Is he coming over?"  Sergio asked.  "I'll be right there."

"No wait", Teressa said.  "He knows I'm at work, so if he has protein there, he'll come home to get them.  That's the next closest place.  I want to make sure he is not really hurt.  I'll be right over."

It will good to see Sergio again.  And even if Joe is not hurt, I'll have a chance to talk to him.   Find out what just what he knows and who he's told.

"I'll see you soon.  I'll try Mark's cell.", Sergio suggested.

"Keep him there, Sergio.  I won't be long."
\chapter{}
Kento looked Aman in the eye as he spoke.  "OK forget the governments and terrorists.  What would you do then?  Would you use the Nantes to heal yourself?  Or would you just throw them away?"

Aman just stared back at Kento.  Joe could swear he saw him twitch.

"OK, so then why are you here.  Why are you helping us?  Why did you even show up that first day?"

"To stop my cousin from hurting himself."

Mark shifted in his seat.  Kento raised an eyebrow.  "So blood is what's important to you.  OK.  What if you're son was dying?  What if you're son could die from something unless you had them handy to save him?"

"It's not worth the risk.  They would be taken from me.  Allah's armies cannot be stopped until they are all dead.  They answer to a higher calling."

Joe eyes opened wide and his stomach churned.  He had never heard the Iranian mention Allah before.  Joe looked at Mark and he looked unfazed.  Joe was angry and confused.

Kento continued his cool questioning of Aman. "Of course they could be stopped.  If everybody knew about nanites and how they worked, the fanatics could be stopped.  It would be just another arms race and the better economics would win."

Aman responded bitterly, "The US government is not the best economy anymore.  All of Islam would win that arms race. Americans are dumb idealists.  They don't actually know how anything works."

"You can't know that, so instead of fighting this battle yourself, you put your faith in elites that exclude you and everyone else.  You are the one who is arrogant.  So certain you can judge people to handle your affairs for you.  Assuming that the people around you are incompetent, and people you don't know more wise.", Kento sounded more driven as he talked.

"I will not listen to this any longer.", Aman threw his chair down as he got up.  He grabbed his notes off the table. 

"No, they stay here.", Kento said motioning to Aman's notes.  "I don't trust you."

Joe started walking toward Aman.  Damned if I'm going to let him get away.

Mark looked stunned.

Aman looked at Joe, "What are you going to do sick fool?  I only have to hit you once."  He scowled as he talked.

Kento reached across the table next to him and grabbed his sword.  "I'd be more worried about me."

Aman blinked.  He dropped the papers on the floor and walked to the door.  "You will regret this day the rest of your lives.", he yelled.

Aman slammed the door behind him.  Joe felt his blood boiling.

Mark's head was in his hands.  His cell phone was ringing, but he ignored it.

"That was inevitable.", Joe said.

"Unfortunately, I think you may be right.", Kento said.

"What will he do?", Joe wondered aloud.

"I don't think there is much he can do.  We don't know enough about how they are built."

"What if he has some nanites already?", Mark looked unusually pale.

"I don't think it changes anything.", Kento said.  "It just means we need to get more people involved.  I'm mailing those samples tonight."

Mark looked nervous, "Tonight? I guess we had better get packing."

"I'll have to mail the nanites that are still in their soup.",  Kento looked distant as he spoke, "Could one of you stay and finish filtering the rest?"

Joe looked at Mark.  Mark was sitting with his head in his hands, oblivious to Kento.  He looks completely destroyed, Joe thought.  Here was his cousin claiming to protect him and acting like a terrorist in the same breath.  He probably can't do a good job tonight.  It's up to me.

"I'll stay", Joe volunteered.  "I'll crash here."

"Thank you Joe.",  Kento smiled.  "Mark can show you how."

Joe looked to Mark.  Mark looked up and nodded his head.

Kento walked over to the diminished bowl of toxic nanite soup.  He spoke as he walked "If anything happens, if we get separated, we should meet at my dojo in Queens."

Mark looked up and Mark and Joe nodded in agreement.

"Say at the 8s.  8am or 8pm Whatever is next."

"OK.", Mark eyes looked bloodshot.

Kento picked up a box of Joes syringes.  He pulled a colorfull stack of stamped, labeled letters from his pocket.  Joe could see there where no return addresses.
\chapter{}
Terrisa reached though the door into Sergio's darkened living room.  She put her arms around him.  "I missed you so much this week." 

Teressa held on with all her might.  She smelled Sergio's Musky smell and realized it was only mixed with a little alcohol.  He's not totally drunk.  Teressa smiled.  Teressa held Sergio's hand and led him to his couch. 

She sat him down and turned his face by his chin.  Staring into his eyes, she asked, "Sergio how are you doing?  Are you OK?"

Sergio Blinked, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure."

"Yes.  I'm worried about Joe.  He's always getting hurt."

Terrisa thought Sergio's italian accent was light.  It usually gets worse when he gets drunk.

"Have you heard from him?"

"No.", his eyes widened.

"We should wait for him.",  Teressa said.  

She paused to look into his eyes.  How this kind gentle man end up with such a raw deal, she wondered.  His wife dead at young age.  His son detached and sick.  His career in ruins in a country with no more opportunity.  Worst of all, I know he loves me.

"Sergio, I am involved in some very serious stuff at the hospital, and now Joe is too."

"How?"  Sergio looked worried.

"I signed up for a opaque government program to do nantotech research.  Once I did all the paperwork an was indoctrinated I realized what a mistake I had made."

Sergio's eyes were wide.

"Sergio, they have fully functional working nanites.  They've had them several years.  They claim they want to control the technology and keep it from terrorist hands.  I'm not sure I believe that anymore.  Thats just the beginning."

Teressa's eyes where welling up.  She started to bawl.

"Oh god I'm so sorry Sergio.", Teressa sobbed, "They're coming after Joe.  I just know it.

"What have you done?", Sergio grabbed her shoulders. Sergio's face changed.

"Sergio, you don't understand.  They kept telling me 'We'll announce to the public soon.' I knew the great things these robots can do."

"Who cares.", Sergio was getting more angry.  Teressa could barely talk she was crying so loud.

Sergio knows I love Joe too, he doesn't get it.

"They can, be programed, to cure Joe.", Teressa's makeup was running.

Sergio's face went blank.

"I thought if I was on the inside I could make the release happen faster. These things can cure or ease the pain of many diseases with only a little work."

Sergio stared at Teressa, he looked ashamed.

"I don't think they were ever serious about releasing the nanites to the public.  They keep complaining about not having fast enough CPU's in them to do serious encryption."

"Meanwhile people die.", Sergio stated flatly staring into space.

"Exactly.", Teressa sniffled.  "I'm beginning to wonder if they will ever be fast enough. All they care about is their 'property'."

"I'm sorry I got angry.", Sergio looked down.

"How is Joe mixed up in this?"

"I put nanites in him to save him after the accident."

"Oh that's just crap!  They can't touch him."

"I think they can.  A doctor on the project disappeared a few months ago."  All investigation has been pushed up to at least the FBI, who has discovered nothing.  There is a rumor coming out of Guantanamo that he's there.  I don't know if he's there, but even if he is it may be legal anyway."

"Why would they put a patient in jail?"

"If he knows what happened to him, if he knows about the nanites, he's a terrorist."

They both stared at each other.

"He knows.", Sergio sounded sure of himself.

"He does."  Teressa said.  "He told me so at the hospital, but I couldn't find out how or who else knows.  Our meeting with MIR interfered. I'm so sorry."

"Your decisions saved his life.", Sergio reassured her.

"They've risked it too now."

"Do you think this has anything to do with call about the protein."

"I don't think so.", Teressa pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped away her running mascara.

"I haven't been so confused since my sister died."

"I miss Monica.", Sergio looked broken up.

Seven years ago Sergio had always been there for her.  I trust him, like I trust noone else, Terrisa thought.

"I was destroyed and you always talked to me as long as it took, until I felt better.", Terrisa smiled warmly.

"I couldn't have gone on without your help.  I would have died too.", Sergio's eyes wrinkled as he smiled.

Teressa had to get through to him.  Now was the time.  He almost drank himself to death when Monica died.  If anything happens to Joe, even for only a little while, I don't think he can handle it.  I may lose him forever.

I need him.  I love everything about him.

Teressa grabbed Sergio by his shoulders and looked into his eyes again.  "Do you really think she wanted you to be alone?  I don't.  I love you.  I want you in my life.  It kills me to see you hurting yourself for something that isn't your fault."

Teressa leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

She whispered in his ear, "We don't have to be alone.  Joe is grown.  It's OK now."

He stared into space.  He looks totally lost, Terrisa worried.  I can't help it I need him now.  I need to be closer to him.  I can't stand the lonelyness.

Sergio broke his trance.  He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.  

Teressa started to cry.

"Oh no, I'm sorry",  Sergio looked terrified.

Teressa grabbed his arms playfully. She smiled warmly. 

"No no it's OK. It's good.", she looked him in the eye, "I forgot what hope felt like."
\chapter{}
Joe's hand hurt.  It feels like a zipper pushing against it, he thought.  Joe opened his eyes and stared at the glare peeking in the crevices of the pillow.  He awkwardly pulled his hand free from the zipper on his leather jacket.  He lifted his head and knew where he was before his eyes could see.  He could smell the hydraulic oil.

I'm at the shop.  I must have passed out.

Joe heard typing.  Only Mark types that fast.  What is he working on?

Suddenly Joe realized, I never finished last night.  He sat up with a start, nearly falling off of the shops cheap cot like bed.

Mark looked up from a computer at the disheveled Joe.

"Hi Joe,  I went home last night and I couldn't sleep.  So I came back here and found you passed out.  So I finished filtering and grouping the nanites."

"Wow, you're done?", Joe went strait for the coffee machine.

"That's it they are ready to go.", Mark pointed at a pair of syringes on the table.  On top of the syringes was Joe's arm PC, its indicator lights blinking like crazy.

"What are you doing to them."

"Originally I started a routine for nanites to collect extra clotting proteins and disperse them as they get low.  I couldn't figure out which were type eight or nine clotting proteins with the nanites, so I had to give up on it."

"Oh.", Joe was hiding his disappointment.

Mark Smiled.

"But, I stumbled across a something better. I programmed nanites to identify when they are caught in a zone of platelet build up, and they relay it to other nanites.  I set the nanites to chain together to form two cell thick nearly impermeable flexible surfaces.  There are a hundred different ways the six Propensky gates can be opened into a male and female configuration to connect together.  I even set it up so nanites can communicate upstream so they are ready connect when they come flooding by." 

Joe was in awe.

"Mark you cured me in a day."

"Not really, the real problem is your body doesn't make enough clotting protein, it still won't.  Your genetics are still the same, but the nanites can block holes in your injured vessels for you.  The key is to use the platelet scabbing mesh as a roadmap for where to chain.  Actually you may even scab and heal faster than ordinary people.  Well assuming it doesn't make an accidental clot worse." 

Joe wondered if his cure would give him a stroke.  I'm as good as dead if it doesn't work.  

Joe interrupted Mark, "Mark."

Mark kept talking, "Hey, I could use my protein redistrabution code to cure Diabeties."

"Mark."

"You would just need to absorb glucose and store it as blood sugar went up."

"Mark." 

"Oh wait you could probably just modify the glucose fueling subroutine to just touch the glucose and."

Joe had heard enough, "Mark!", He yelled.

Mark looked stunned and a little angry.

"Mark, could this ever block an artery?"

Mark's anger washed away.  He looked a little embarrassed, "I don't know."

"OK, turn clotting off.  Until we test it."

Mark was completely thrown, "Yea yea OK, I think your right."

Tiny hairs all over Joe's body were standing on end.  He felt his stomach churn.

Joe rummaged around in a small freezer under the table.  He pulled out a frozen pizza unwrapped it and scanned it's bar code into the microwave.  Joe noticed the clock read 11:30, damn I was out for 8 hours.

I wonder if my stomach is queasy because of hunger or fear.

The door opened, and sunlight poured into the shop as Kento walked in. 

"Good news!", Kento exclaimed.

"What is it?", Joe asked, hoping to distract himself from his well of fear.

"We have someplace to go.  When I wrote to one of the labs I sent the nanites to, they permanently invited us to stay."

"Yea in the basement.", Mark grimaced.

"For a week.  Till they turn us in.", Joe added.

Kento shrugged, "I think it's for real.  I received a voice file from the director of the lab.  That file could easily put him on the hook as well."

"Where is it?", Mark asked.

"Rural Canada.  The whole lab has been told en masse, so we could probably travel the building freely.",  Kento paused, "Assuming it's still open when we get there."

"How will we get there?",  Joe asked.

"I don't know.", Kento replied, "I'd say as quickly as possible.  Those letters should start arriving in a couple of days."

I have to say goodbye, Joe thought. Oh no.  I forgot about my aunt last night.  I have to go see her tonight and warn her.  Joe thought about Lucy crying on his shoulder.  What could it have been?  Will I ever see Finny again?  How about my father?

"I need to sleep a couple of hours.  Please wake me at two O'Clock.", Kento walked toward the cot.

"You didn't sleep?", Mark asked.

"No I was riding all night.  I had letters to mail."

"Huh?", Mark was confused.

"I wanted to be certain so I mailed two copies to each location.  I mailed one copy from random mailboxes around here and rode to Jersey, Pennsylvania, upstate and Connecticut to mail the second copy."

Both Joe and Mark's eyes were wide.  Joe smelled Kento's body odor as he walked by.

"They would have to stop all northeast mail delivery today to stop every letter. I even used different style envelopes.  With luck that won't happen.  I even overnighted a few to be safe.", Kento sat down on the cot and took his boots off.

"That must have been cold.  You could have used the van.", Joe remarked wide eyed.

"It's OK I have good gear, and gas is too expensive.  We need every dollar."

Man he is tough, Joe thought.

"Kento, it's done. The nanites are ready for me."

"Interesting choice of words.", Kento raised and eyebrow.  "You sure you want to do this?"

"Yea. If I'm going to die in jail, I want to be cured for a day."

"You won't go to prison.  We will get out of the US.  I have guaranteed the cat is out of the bag, so I'm responsible for your safety.", Kento's voice was a little hoarce.

"I thought you said you could trust your contacts.", Mark reminded Kento.

"I thought you said we could trust your cousin.", Joe said to Mark.

"No I said I can trust him.  He didn't threaten me last night."

"Likewise, I said we can trust my contacts.", Kento said  "I have no idea about their coworkers, or their families, mail departments or their IT people.  I mailed hundreds of samples last night and sent encrypted messages to as many people.  Somebody somewhere will go to the police."

"That's better than airmailing nanites to one eight hundred terrorist.", Joe remarked.

"Aman hates those religious fanatics.", Mark's Indian accent got thicker, "If he did anything, he probably went to the cops."

"He told you he hates religious nuts?," Joe asked.

Mark sat silently.

"If he went to the cops last night we'd already be in jail.", Joe grumbled.

Mark did not respond, obviously brewing.

Joe knew Aman was up to no good.  He knew that the only reason he had not spread mayhem yet was a lack of opportunity.  Joe had seen that pride in men before.  Last nights demonstration was bravado, and that never ended well.

Mark broke the silence, "Your dad called me last night looking for you."

Joe sighed, "Thanks."

They sat silently with their heads down, thinking.  Kento started to snore.
\chapter{}
"OK Joe, just like the last one."  Mark's voice was tense.

Mark pushed the plunger down on the syringe in Joe's arm.  Joe had propped his arm up on the table. 

What if this doesn't work?  I've killed my friend and sent us to jail.  My family will questioned and endlessly shamed.  I'll be mistaken for a Muslim fanatic in jail.

What the hell am I doing?

Mark felt as if he were a prisoner of his own body.  All his logical faculties were overwhelmed by one loud persistent thought.  

I must know how these work.

At least Kento is an accomplice.

"I'm not sure exactly what is going to happen when I activate these.  I suspect that you will actually feel short of breath for a while as they recharge.   It seems that after they are some percentage full of oxygen atoms, they will start releasing oxygen to your cells as needed."

"How long till I'm better and not worse?",  Joe grumbled.

"I'm not sure but I'd guess a couple of hours."

Mark pulled the empty syringe from Joe's arm.  He gave Joe a cotton ball to hold on his bleeding arm.

"You said you had a shot recently right?", Mark asked. 

"Yea a few days ago I've still got at least two weeks."

"Hold that tight.", Mark pointed to the cotton ball.

Mark grabbed Joe's arm computer.  Mark strapped the computer onto Joe's arm, and handed Joe his clarks.

"I've set up a shortcut for you.  Just draw a circle with your finger on the computers LCD and tap it once to turn the nanites on.  Same thing toggles them off.  It will take some time for all the nanites to go on or off line as they only get the signal as they pass by the ultra sound panel behind your computer as they are pumped through your blood stream."

"Cool.", Joe looked a little nervous.

"So go ahead turn them on.", Kento smiled.

"Here goes nothing.", Joe boomed.

He tapped the nanites on.

"Put your clarks on.", Mark instructed Joe.

Joe obeyed.

"See that little zero in your upper right hand corner.  That's the percentage of nanites that have received the command to collect and redistribute oxygen."

"There are two zeros.",  Joe observed.

"The number in the upper left hand side is the percentage responsive to the platelet redirection command."

Joe and Kento stared at Mark eyebrows raised.

"It's off don't worry, but don't do the circle and a double tap.  That toggles the protien simulation on and off."

Joe's jaw dropped.

"That is the dumbest interface ever.", Joe shook his head.

Mark was insulted.  "What do you mean?"

"I'm one wrong twitch from death?"

"Oh yea."  "I forgot to fix that." "I guess that's pretty bad."

Great thinking genius, Mark insulted himself.

"OK I can fix it tonight.  But I don't want to take any chances yet.  It will have to wait until, until I'm sure the nanites are getting the right signal."

They were still staring at Mark.

"The ultra sound driver is really unstable.  I hacked it to work with our model.  If I change anything it may lose contact with the passing nanites.  I need to watch what is going on."

"It just changed to one percent.", Joe suddenly looked less worried.

"See nothing to worry about.",  Mark felt flush with fear.  He walked back to his desktop computer.

"How do you feel?", Kento asked.

"My blood pressures up, I can feel it."

"Should we shut down the test?",  Kento asked.

Mark looked at his screen and squinted,  "Everything looks just as I expected here.  It's probably just stress."

Joe nodded his head.  "Probably."  

"I need to walk around.", Joe got up from his chair.

"OK just don't leave wireless range, I need to watch your arm.", Mark warned.

I hope Joe isn't giddy from the extra oxygen.  Maybe I could check and see the red blood cell content, Mark thought.

Mark got up from his chair and grabbed the second used syringe.  

Now I have a blood sample.  Lets get that little bit of blood into the microscope, Mark thought.  Mark jumped, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Kento whispered, "Mark what are you doing?"

"Well now I have a fresh blood sample to work with.  I thought I try to find a way to test the oxygen content of his red blood cells."

"Why?"

"I don't really know if there is a chance of euphoria from over oxygenation."

"Isn't there another way to test that?"

"Yes, see if he gets giddy"

"Don't you think you should be focused on watching the data you are already collecting."

It dawned on Mark.  I'm out of control.  Five minutes and I've totally forgotten about Joe.

Mark started to whisper, "Yea I guess you're right."

"Try to work with the data you already have."

"Sorry."

"There will be plenty of time to play with this stuff in just a few days.  The lab will have everything you need."

"Right." Mark hung his head, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I just want to keep our ginny pig alive.",  Kento smiled.
\chapter{}
"You just asked me.", Joe hung his head forward.  "I'm fine."

"Sorry, I just want to be really sure.  We're at one hundred percent.  There might be some sort numeric identity bug."

"I do feel one thing."

"What?", Mark looked worried.

"Annoyed."

Mark leaned back and crossed his arms.

Actually I feel kind of sharp, Joe thought.  I think I like this.  Joe cracked a smile.

"It's been a half an hour at one hundred. How about we try a test.", Kento suggested.  
"You want to bleed Joe?  What if it doesn't work?", Mark looked shocked.

Kento smiled, "Joe why don't you hold your breath."

"Oh.", Mark turned red.

Somtimes it really scares me how Mark thinks, Joe thought.

Joe began to hold his breath and stuck his thumb up in air.

Mark shuffled over to his computer to watch the numbers.

"It's like watching the grass grow.", Mark commented.  "No change here."

Kento looked at his watch.  "Fourty five seconds, fifty, fifty five, one minute."
Kento looked up from his watch.  "Joe can you normally hold your breath this long?"

Joe shook his head.

"How do you feel?", Mark asked.  

Joe shruged and stuck his thumb up again.  

"One minute fifteen seconds." 

"Still one hundred percent."

Kento looked up at the motionless mechanic.   "Try moving around.",  Kento suggested.

Joe started to do the twist.

Mark and Kento shook their heads.

"How about jumping jacks?", Kento asked sarchasticly.

Joe shrugged again.  He began jumping jacks.

"One minute fourty seconds."

Joe resisted the urge to move his diaphram in tune with his body.  The air in his lungs felt hot.

"Two minutes.", Kento's eyes widened.  "That's my meditation record."

"You didn't breath for two minutes?", Mark sounded impressed.  "The most I can do is thirty seconds, and I meditate all the time."

Joe stopped doing jumping jacks.  He gasped for air.

"Wow. Two minutes and twenty seconds with jumping jacks.",  Kento smiled.

"I wasn't dizzy or out of breath.", Joe was breathing a little heavy, "It just,"  Joe hesitated, "I had to breath."

"Maybe this is the wrong kind of test.", Kento wondered aloud.  

"Why did you stop?  It didn't register on the ultrasound.",  Mark sounded peturbed.

"It was like a reflex.", Joe said.

"Perhaps we need to give you air without oxygen.", Kento wondered.

Joe imagined himself sufficating in a black trash bag while Mark cheered him on.  Joe shuttered.

"I could run.", Joe suggested.

"You're used to running, that might work better.", Kento agreed.

"Do laps around the building so I don't loose contact.", Mark suggested nervously.

Mark grabbed a lcd tablet and touched it to his PC which summerally beeped.  The contents of his computers screen and a small graphical keyboard appeared on his tablet as he followed Joe and Kento outside.

I wonder how fast I can run?  Joe felt his heart beating a little faster.  My fastest sprint in school was about an 11 second 100. Can I beat it now or will this just let me run longer?  Maybe it won't have any effect at all.

"Nice night for a run.  I can barelly see my breath.", Kento breathed deeply.  "Joe take it easy.  We don't want you getting a heart attack because your blood is to heavy or somthing crazy like that."

"Right.", Joe wasn't planning on restraining himself.

Joe walked up to the gate surrounding the parking lot.  Purple light from the sunset reflected off of the endless gray concrete and steel.  Now this I'm built for, Joe thought smiling.  He pulled his clarks from head and put them on.

"Do a walking lap first.", Kento shouted.

Joe wasn't listening.  He started jogging clockwise around the building.   Within half a minute he reappeared on the opposite side.  Kento gave him the thumbs up.

As Joe passed the gate, he thought time to finally test these things.  Joe picked up speed into a total sprint.  Joe felt his legs strain as he pushed forard as fast as as his muscles allowed.

Ten seconds later he barreled around the building again.

As Joe came around the building a third time, he realized he wasn't even breathing heavy.  He was having trouble keeping his balance, so he began following a larger circle.

Will they give me some kind of signal if I go out of range, Joe thought.  

The percent full indicator in Joe's Clarks changed to 99.

Joe looked over to see Mark and Kento jumping up and down just as he turned the corner.  Realizing he was slowing down, Joe began to strain his theighs again.  The blurry backside of the building drifted by as Joe kept up his sprint.

Joe rounded the corner and noticed Kento was at his motorcyle.  Mark was yelling somthing but a gust of wind filled his ears.  He felt his tendons throb as he zipped by the gate.

Joe heard Kento's motorcycle start as they slipped out of sight again.  Joe was starting to tune out the pain in muscles as he worked to stay upright on his tiny track.  I seem to be going as fast as I ever did, he thought.

The vector triangles displayed in Joe's clarks jumped to Kento on his motorcycle waiting at the gate.  Joe started to slow down.  Kento waved him on franticly.

"Keep going, keep going.", Kento yelled over his racer.

Kento pulled away and rode next to Joe.

Joe's clarks read back 98 percent.  Joe stared at the thin film on his lenses trying to see past his own footfalls.

Joe looked over at Kento.

"Eighteen miles an hour.", Kento yelled over his exaust.

Joe smiled, nineteen was his record.

Kento pointed strait with his left hand as he rode.  "Run strait as fast as you can."

Kento must have seen Joes battle to stay upright in the sandy parking lot.

Joe broke away and ran from the shop.  He searched for somthing to drive his legs faster.  Joe cycled through high school bullies and shady relitives.  Joe imagined their parkway atackers.  Playing the scene through his mind like a movie.

They would kill me for a car.

Then Joe remembered his meeting with Nathan Jones.

He would kill us all for pleasure.

Joe felt his adrenial gland pouring fire into his veins.  Joe legs no longer felt strained.

Joe sped up.  He heard Kento's engine rev as he switched gears.  He thought he saw his indicator click down again, but Joe couldn't tell for sure.  His legs were numb.  He watched the ground for potholes as he ran.  Joe's chest was heaving, but he didn't feel out of breath.  He never ran his fastest without contiously thinking about breathing.

Joe saw the entrance to the industrial park comming up fast.  How fast am I running, he wondered.  I've walked this, it takes fifteen minutes.  Joe felt fear and exaustion come over his body as he burned his adreniline away.

Joe slowed his pace to a jog. 

Kento stared at Joe, his motorcycle coasting, mouth agape.

"What?", Joe had to ask.

"Twenty five miles an hour.  You just ran a two and a half minute mile.", Kento looked around  "I'm sure that's a record."

"I wonder if anyone saw.", Joe wondered.

"I hope not", Kento replied.
\chapter{}
"Mr. Byrd why do you think I picked you for our team?", Scott Conner asked.

"Because I understand the mission sir.", Byrd glanced down away from Scott's gaze.

"What is that mission?", Scott looked skeptical.

"To, um to build.", Marcus Byrd stuttered.

Scott leaned forward and spoke quietly, "To protect.  To protect our patriotic scientists.  To protect our way of life.  To protect people from themselves."

"Yes sir.",  Marcus exclaimed.

Marcus knew what to say now.  Scott smiled to himself.  Here I am, in case he forgets his place.

"We didn't push technology to this point.  We don't organize to threaten legitimate governments.  But we need to keep the law on the side of the people."

"Yes sir"

"Do you know why I'm telling you this?", Scott still spoke quietly.

"You are teaching me sir."

"Not exactly,  I am honing your focus.  You will be confronted by many people who have no foresight.  They question your motives and accuse you of a thirst for power.  We have thought it through and they have not."

"Yes sir we have."

"Have you been told about your first mission yet?", Scott asked with his twang.

"No sir."

"Your first year here will be spent working with the patent office.  You will be given full access to all of the superior technologies at Datahold and expected to use your knowledge to identify potential leaks. Do you know how you will do that?"

"No sir"

"You along with a dozen other lawyers from MIR will pose as patent officers and review all pertinent applications.  You will forward a copy of all potentials back to us and intercept all applications clearly in violation."

"Has anything leaked from MIR before?", the young apprentice looked worried. "I hadn't heard anything about this."

"We have an understanding with the DOD and Joint Chiefs of Staff.   Betraying MIR is akin to treason and handled in a secret war trial."

Scott paused and stared at his younger subordinate.

"Are you comfortable with that Mr. Byrd."

Marcus looked down.

"Yes sir."

"In that case you are a fine man.  I knew you were the best candidate when I saw your service record and your final paper from Yale law.  MIR and the United States are lucky to have you helping fight terrorists and terrorist states.  The rule of law will prevail."

"Yes sir.",  Council Byrd was grinning.

"How soon until you take your bar exam?" 

The phone on Scott's desk interrupted, buzzing once.  "Council Conner, Nathan Jones is here to see you."

Scott pressed a button on his substantial phone.  "Send him in."

Nathan has been failing at pinning down Vallone.  He had better have some handle on the situation, Scott thought.

The Mahogany door swung open as Nathan Jones strode in the room.

"Council Jones, this is Council Byrd our latest addition to Datahold.  Council Jones is our top lawyer at MIR on criminal action, and war crimes.

Nathan Jones shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you.  Welcome aboard team DH.", Nathan smiled weakly.  

Nathan looked right at Scott.

"Mr Byrd our time is up please see Abagail, and she will guide you through the next step."

"Sir it was a pleasure.", Marcus Byrd smiled shaking his hand.

"The pleasure is ours.", Scott smiled thinly.

The men watched intently as Marcus walked to the exit.

"Nathan, what the hell are you doing."

"Scott."

"We know Vallone knows about the nanites, we know he hates you and MIR and we can't stop him?"

"The laws in.", Nathan was cut off.

"I don't care what the law says, we will find evidence when we search!  It won't matter anymore then.", Scott was yelling. 

Nathan stared at Scott.

You better not be glaring at me boy, I'll put you in a coffin, Scott thought.

"I came here to tell you, I think I've got him.", Nathan paused, "I'm pretty sure we can get the warrant now.  It's premise is weak legally, but it should be enough for a raid."

"What's your angle Jones?",  Scott said, seething.

"There was a couple of phone conversations.  Joe was asking for more protein for his hemophilia ahead of schedule.  We know Joe got a shot two weeks ago. Dr Graceland went to his fathers house to wait for him but he never showed."

"So?"

"Dr Graceland wouldn't get involved unless he was sick.  Vallone has full medical insurance though his aunt."

"So?"

"So why didn't he go to the hospital?  Maybe he still has nanites in him."

Scott raised his eyebrows, "He doesn't have still have nanites in him, he wouldn't know where to start."

"But with his aunt involved in it he might, and the court doesn't understand that anyway."

Scott's face lit up.  "It might just be enough.  In case it's true we'll need a full swat team at his house, Graceland's house, and that shop."

"Yes sir."

"Don't let this be a cluster-fuck like that Greenly idiot.", Scott spat.

"Greenly?", Nathan looked confused.

"He's that dumb fuck who let the UNC carbon servo patent though.  Now we're two patents off from a working public nanite.  We have people there, we could have stopped it."

"I didn't hear about that sir.", Nathan grit his teeth.

"Of course you didn't, because you're nobody."

Nathan looked furious, "Sir maybe if you let people go home for a weekend and see their family, people wouldn't make dumb mistakes."

Scott got red in the face as he yelled in southern slang.  "Who the hell do you think you are council.  The fate of the world is at stake.  We can't maintain superiority, and all you can think about is what video you're going to rent this weekend?  We need a commitment from you or there will be nobody left to rent it to you, much less to watch it with.  You get down to the courthouse now and get that warrant."

Say no, I dare you.  Scott's thought, adrenaline flowing freely.

"Yes sir.", Nathan was rigid as a board.

"Now get to work and earn your exorbitant pay."

"Yes sir."
\chapter{}
Lucy was stroking Joe's hair and kissing his ear.  Her soft sheets covered his nude body.  Joe felt the small hairs stand up on the back of his neck as she laid her head on his chest.  He looked deeply into her brown eyes and felt his heart skip a beat.  Could this be love?  It was more than just his boyish yearning, much more.

Thump.  Joe had walked right into a sign post.

That was some daydream, he thought.  I nearly smashed my Clarks.

Joe's cell phone rang.  He looked at the number, it was Kento's cell.

"Hello?", Joe kept walking as he talked.

"Hey Joe, we're here.  We ran into a little delay so I'd say it will be an hour and a half before we can meet you back at the shop.", Kento's voice faded in and out.

They must be having trouble sneaking the microscope back in to storage at the lab.

"OK I'll see you at midnight."

"Don't be late.  You can plan your backpack while you wait for us." 

"I won't.", Joe stuttered, "Be late I mean."

"I knew what you meant Joe.", Kento was smiling.

Joe hung up. 

What will I tell my dad, Joe wondered.  He's going to be disappointed.  He'll be so lonely, I may never see him again.  
What about my aunt, she will be destroyed. 

Joe felt the shame of his actions wash over his body.  His nearly teenage mind and body couldn't cope with the weight of how this would change her life.

Joe decided to think about Lucy and Finny instead.  He walked in a daze, thinking about the quiet family life he secretly wanted.  Like his parents would never have it.  I love Finny so much, Joe thought, she is such a sweetheart. I could be a good step-dad.  I know I could.

Joe strode on in a mindless morose, on the verge of tears.

As he approached the shops industrial park, he could swear he could see their building in the distance, and a light was on.  Joe pulled his Clarks off and rubbed the budding tears from his eyes.

All the lights were on.

"What the hell.", Joe said to no one.

Joe slapped his Clarks back on and tapped his arm computer.  His Clarks HUD came into view.  Joe began to run across the stretches of moonlit parking lot.

A figure hurried out of the shop with an armful of stuff.  Joe broke into the fastest sprint he could.  I have to hold back in case there is a fight, Joe thought.  I wish I hadn't eaten so much dinner.

The figure climbed into a small red car.  Joe recognized him.  It was Aman.

Damn that bastard.  Now it's on.

Aman started his car and began to drive out of the shop gate.  Joe doubled his pace, it's now or never, he thought.

His oxygen gauge ticked down.

Joe ears were filled by the sound of the air rushing by them.  He ran so fast he felt as if his thigh muscles felt as if they were ripping in two.  The length of green arrow displayed in Joe's Clarks representing Amans speed vector continued to grow.

He was losing Joe.

Joe slowed to a jog.

Damn, what is Aman up to, he wondered.  He turned around and jogged back to the shop.

He was shocked when he ran through the door.  The shop was turned upside down.

Amman's notes.  All their slides with nanite samples.  The ultrasound equipment.  The computers.  Even the bowls the nanites were grown in were all gone.  Every light was on.  Every door opened.  Every drawer was emptied on to the floor.

Oh my god, Joe thought.  The lawyer was right.  The extremists will stop at nothing.  His stomach sank to the floor.  It's my fault.  Who knows what he'll do with it.  How many people will die.

Joe was starting to sweat.

OK Joe keep your cool where did he go?  

Joe started rummaging through the contents of the empty drawers.  What am I doing?  Joe thought.  What am I looking for.

How long has Aman been planning this?

Joe reached for his phone.  He dialed Mark.  

"Hello?"

"Mark, Aman broke in.  He took everything."

"What?! When?"

"When I walked to town to get dinner.", Joe started rummaging through the piles again.

"Did he take my computers?"

"Everything."

"Oh god."

"Exactly."

"Do you know where he'll go?"

"I", Mark paused, "don't know."  Mark trailed off in fear.

Kento's voice came on the phone, "Joe what happened?"

"Aman robbed us.", Joe walked in circles kicking through piles of papers, wires and silicon circuit boards.

"How do you know?"

"The shop is trashed."

"I mean how do you know it was Aman?", Kento's voice was cool and even.

"I saw him leave."

"Did he see you?", Kento asked.

Joe paused and raised and eyebrow, "No he didn't."

"Do you know where he is going?"

Joe recognized a pile as the contents of his personal drawer.  My roll of cash is missing.  Where are my tickets, Joe wondered.

"Joe, stay with me."

Joe hunched over and sifted through the pile.  Throwing things across the room.

Joe throught felt dry.  Guilt washed over him.  In seconds Joe's guilt turned into fear and then rage.  How can I be in this situation, he thought.  His mind raced searching for anything outside himself.  The whole thing is not logical, Joe thought, how can curiosity lead to somthing so terrible.

"Joe?"

"The Olympic trials.", Joe's blood boiled as he spoke.

"How do you know?"

"I'm missing my tickets. They start tonight."

Joe sounded excited, "Kento how far are you?"

"I'm not sure, maybe an hour.", Kento raised his voice a little, "Joe don't jump to conclusions."

Joe trotted over to the key table by the door.  One set of keys lay beside Kento's motorcycle helmet.

"Kento, I need your bike."

"Joe you don't know how to ride it."

"I'd rode once," Joe paused, "in a parking lot."

"Riding around the parking lot does not prepare you to chase down a car on a parkway.  No you'll get hurt and arrested.  You'll be shipped off to Guantanamo for life.  We'll never see again.", The sound of Kento's voice changed as he changed to speaker-phone mode.

"I have to try."

Kento sounded parental, "Joe you don't know he going to attack anyone.  How could he make them into a weapon in a half an hour?"

Mark chimed in, his Indian accent thick with stress, "What if he planned this?  From the beginning?  He'd have the same time we did.  He could even draw on our progress and add to it."

Kento said, "That's possible.  But why strike so soon?"

"Surprise.", Joe said flatly.

"Nobody even knows nanites exist yet.  He could destroy trust in the government.  The Feds couldn't protect people from a nanite attack without telling them the truth.  Total chaos would ensue.",  Mark trailed off again.

"How did he know about the tickets?   Why didn't he take them sooner?", Kento inquired.

"Surprise.  He could have found them when I brought them here.", Joe voice trembled slightly.

"Somthing's not right.", Kento was thinking out loud.

"I'm so sorry.", Mark sounded ashamed.

Joe was convinced.  He grabbed Kento's helmet and keys.  He flicked the lights and pulled the door shut behind him. Joe paused and remmebered the night Lucy quit.  Like the shop mattered anymore, he thought cynically.
\chapter{}
I've ridden a motorcycle a little.  I test drove a 454 in a foot of snow for Sun Auto.  I can do this.

"Kento, I need your bike."

"Joe don't. That bike is dangerous.  It really is a crotch rocket."

"He must be stopped."

"Joe what will you do if you catch up to him.  How can you stop him?", Kento was starting to sound worried.

"I'll think of something."

"Joe riding a bike in first gear in the parking lot is different than weaving through New York traffic."

"Clutch, shifter, brake, gas.  Same as a car."

Joe was hunting around for where to insert the key as he talked.

The phone was silent. 

"OK Joe listen to me very carefully first."

Joe tried to clear his mind.  It didn't work.

"On the left you have a shifter and clutch.  The clutch is the bicycle style lever on the left handle bar.  Held down it's out of gear released it's in gear.  Try it now with the bike off."

Joe grabbed the clutch and released it.

"OK."

"That is the most important control on the bike.  It is a wet clutch, you won't wear it out.  Accelerate and decelerate with the clutch, not the throttle.  If you forget, you will launch the bike into the air.  To control the bike, control the clutch.  If you launch the bike into the air it will land on your head.  If you must crash, lean the bike over and lay it down.  Do you understand?"  

"Yes"

"On the lower left is the shifter. Down is down, and up is up.  Neutral is between first and second gear.  You should only let go of the clutch when the stopped bike is in neutral.  On the right the pedal is the rear brake and the lever is the front brake.  The right handle grip is the throttle. Do you understand?"

"Yes"

"There is an emergency stop switch which is currently off.  You'll need to press it.  It's a red button."

"OK."  Joe pushed the button. 

"Can you repeat that for me?"

Joe's mind was buzzing.

"No."  

"The most important thing is?"

"Baby the clutch."

"Right.", Kento sounded encouraged.

Joe turned the ignition key.  The bike's paint faded from yellow to black and red and yellow flame graphics started dancing across it's tank fairing and fenders.  The motorcycle looked alive.

"Nice flame job.", Joe was impressed.

"I leave it off.  You pressed the wrong switch.  The switch at the center of handlebars toggles the graphics, the kill switch is on the right."

Marks voice chimed in.  "He's going to die isn't he."

Joe sounded exasperated. "I'm not going to die."

Joe pushed the button on the right.

"Wish me luck.", Joe smiled.

"Keep your cool.  And try to wait till he parks before you try anything.  Call for help if you track him down."

"Later.", Joe hung up the phone and put it in his back pocket.

Joe donned the helmet and gloves inside it and climbed on the flickering bike.  Joe put his foot on the brake and his hand on the clutch and turned the ignition key.

His heart stopped, but nothing happened.  Eventually Joe's heart started beating again.

He pushed the foggy visor up and adjusted his Clarks.  Joe's eyes floated around landing under the kill switch.

"Oh." Joe said aloud shaking his head cartoonishly, "The start button."

The engine roared as Joe revved the throttle way to far.

OK, ease the throttle and slowly back off the clutch. 

The bike went nowhere.

What the hell is it now, Joe wondered.   He looked at his watch, ten minutes had passed and he hadn't driven a foot.

Joe noticed a green "N" lit up in his speedometer.

Oh, it's in neutral.  OK I'm stupid.  Maybe this whole thing is stupid, he thought.

Joe clicked the gear shift down with his left foot.  He slowly eased into the throttle and the clutch.  The engine slowed a little as the gear started to catch.  Joe compensated with more throttle.  He felt his heart starting to beat faster.

The rear tire squealed, the kickstand clanked into place under the bike, and Joe took off into the night like he was shot from gun.
\chapter{}
Sergio had a look of pure bliss on his face.  Monica Vallone was sitting beside him on the couch stroking his hair.  He was upset about something just one minute ago, but it didn't seem to matter now.  He was happy.

Joe wanted to be happy too.  He ran from the stairs to them.  He wanted to make his father smile.  He wanted to be touched and loved by his mother.  Joe imagined himself as a boy running to them.  I can seem to reach them, Joe thought.

A horn honked.

Joe was riding Kento's motorcycle on the Grand Central Parkway.  Joe snapped back to reality, ashamed of his childish longing for comfort.

I'm so cold, he thought.  Joe shivered.

I don't know where Aman is.  I don't see his car, I think I know where he is going, but can I get there before him.  I had better start passing in between cars, if I want to catch him.

This guy doesn't know what he is doing, Joe thought.  A green triangle pointed towards Joe's lane, indicating a change of direction.  I'd better swerve around him.

The motorcycle drifted into the breakdown lane as it accelerated.

Joe noticed three cars lined up pacing each other up ahead.  He decided to pass in between the left and middle lane.  Those two aren't paying attention.  Joe felt the front wheel lift a little as he pushed it up to ninety.

Joe spooked one of the drivers, a blue compact twitched as Joe passed.

This is seriously dangerous, Joe thought, I hope I can stop him. Joe's heart was pounding.

Joe saw a blue triangle headed right for him, with a quick glance he swerved into the middle lane.  Then just like that the triangle was gone.  Joe checked his mirrors.  Nothing.  No cop, no car at all.  Am I tired?  Joe paced the traffic around him as he wiggled his toes and fingers as he rode. They were cold, but not numb yet.

Joe felt adrenaline shoot through his veins.  That wasn't the Clarks, but the bike.  My eyes were tricked by the flames.  Joe reached his hand forward through the wind and hit the graphics button.  The bike turned yellow and black.

Now I can trust myself a little more, Joe thought.

Joe looked up from the motorcycle's body and saw a flash of red light to his left.  He immediately swerved into the right lane of traffic.  Joe was staring at the brake lights of a blue Volvo.  Joe Reached for the front brake and felt some loss of control as he slowed.  His foot reached down for the back brake. 

The rear tire locked up.

Joe's mind screamed in fear as the bike screeched to the left and the right.  Joe struggled to control the sliding bike.   He took his foot of the rear brake and motorcycle began to whipsaw.  Joe felt the bike lurch, and he had sudden memories of the Camero going end over end.

Joe leaned the bike onto it's side, and slid.

Joe tried to hold his leg to the underside of the bike as he slid along the road.  He shifted his weight onto his shoulder where his leather jacket covered him.  Joe's Clarks lost understanding of the now sideways road and all vector marks turned to X's just like his last accident.

Joe saw the red light as he slid.  It was a transparent graphic audio analyzer LCD film on a red Nissan's rear window, just like his Clarks and the bike. I must have seen the Nissan's bass booming, he thought. 

Damn it, what a stupid way to die.

Joe slid to a stop on the shoulder.  He immediately reached for his cell phone.  It's in my pocket, Joe thought.  At least I can tell them to leave without me.

Joe climbed out from under the bike and was relieved to see it was still running and in gear.

Several cars stopped as Joe pulled his gloves and helmet off.  His right leg was bleeding where his jeans ripped.  He could feel the soreness in his right shoulder under the leather.  Joe walked over and pressed the emergency stop button.  The engine shut down, and the rear wheel stopped spinning. 

So that's what it's for, he thought.

"Are you OK? One woman asked getting out of her car."

Joe was confused.  Usually he wouldn't be OK.  He was bleeding pretty bad from his leg and he was sure his shoulder was hurt too.  Joe rubbed it.

A man shut his car off and asked as well, "Son, do you need help?"

I am OK, Joe thought.  I don't even think I'm woozy.

"I think so.", Joe grinned. 

Joe felt his meekness drain away.

"In that case, you where driving like an asshole back there.  Somebody gunna die?  What's the big idea buddy."

Joe recognized the twitchy drivers car.

The man started walking toward Joe.  "What could be so fucking important that you have to swerve through us like that."

Joe spoke without thinking, "Terrorists.", he paused, "are going to blow up the Olympic trials."

"Then call the cops.  Why be a hero?"

Great now what do I say.

Joe continued his confession, "They will arrest me."

"Are you telling me you are a terrorist?"  The large forearmed man approached Joe.

"I'm calling the police.", The woman shouted from a distance.  She got back in her car.

Oh great, that helps alot lady, Joe thought.  Joe's mind was racing.

"I am not a terrorist."

"How do I know that?", The man was red in the face.  He was inches from Joe.

Joe's felt almost panicked.  I don't have time to tell him the truth.  He wouldn't understand even if I did. 

Joe felt a strange calm come over his body.  This is bigger than me, he thought.  I know what I have to do.  A thousand, no ten thousand lives depend on me.  I must do this.  Joe flexed his muscles to ready himself. 

Joe's phone rang.

"Hello."  Joe stared into the man's eyes as he picked up his phone.  Joe felt his hot breath on his face.

"Joe, I know where Aman is.", Mark was yelling, "He just stopped at my dad's apartment ranting about my last chance to get out."

"Is he still there?"

"No he just left.  He's probably not even on the parkway yet.", Mark sound like he wanted to cry.

The man started to back away with fear on his face.  He seemed to realize Joe was serious.  Joe figured he heard.

"I'm on my way."

Joe hung up the phone.  Joe lifted up the bike and looked it over.  The bike was gray where the LCD film was scraped away, but it didn't seem to be leaking anywhere.  The damage seemed superficial.

Joe felt a tickle on his wrist.  Joe looked at his hand as drop of blood ran into his palm.  How long will I last before the nanites don't help anymore.  Joe looked down and his ripped blue jeans leg was soaked with blood.

If I loose conciseness I'm as good as dead.

Joe sighed to himself. I guess I have to trust you Mark, don't let me down.  He reached his right arm across his body and performed a circle and double tap motion on his arm computer.

Joe put his helmet back on and slid his Clarks into it.

The second HUD read four percent.

I wonder what that means, Joe thought.

Joe started the damaged bike and launched back onto the parkway.
\chapter{}
Nathan Jones was standing backstage just out of sight of Scott's audience.  He was sure Scott saw him.  Just a few minutes ago he looked strait at him and gave him a wink.  Nathan peered around the curtain at the audience of fifty top ranking Generals and Admirals, all in full dress.  They sat under a red white and blue banner on the far wall that read "Welcome to the MIR Age."

Nathan needed to talk Scott right now.  He thought about interrupting the whispering speech reciter behind him, but imagined Conner repeating his warnings about Vallone verbatim.  I've seen what happens when Scott's teleprompter goes dead, and it isn't pretty.  Nathan smiled to himself.

All Nathan could do was wait and listen.

Scott's spoke with a pronounced twang, "Traditional rules of warfare no longer apply.  American soldiers wearing our exceptional armor and fully populated with our latest blood enhancement serum is no mere chemistry, but a directed machine capable of enduring heavy small arms fire for weeks, injured with no supplies.  Severely injured men will be able hibernate for three hours with no heartbeat until help arrives, and with Datahold's latest developments men could fight in an enhanced physiological state without drinking fresh water for three days and not eating for two weeks."

Scott paused while the crowd murmured.  Nathan swore he heard someone laugh out loud.

Scott continued, talking over the murmurs, "Gentlemen, the United States armed forces will be unstoppable.  It will be as if the lord himself will guide our bullets and cast our many enemies aside."

Nathan wondered what God really thought of Scott and MIR.  He shuttered and forgot it.

"In just a few short months I will call upon you to each volunteer some of your best men to train in the new techniques required to realize the full potential of the enhancement serum.  In the meantime I must remind you this is top secret and repeating anything you heard here tonight to the uncleared is akin to treason."  

Scott looked as stern as he could muster.

"Once again, thank you for agreeing to push this meeting up. I still expect to meet at our original time in a few weeks to begin planning initial testing, and to fill you in on some of the details I have omitted as a courtesy to your time.  Please extend my apologies to your families for any disruption and inconvenience this may have caused, but as you can see this can be a deadly tool in the hands of the enemy.  Good night and safe travel home."

Scott smiled and waved as he walked off stage.  His audience applauded.

As soon as he had walked past the curtain the smile dropped of Scott's face.  He grabbed Nathan's arm and began pulling him away from the stage. 

"You tell me the reckless son of a bitch that caused me to wake up every four star General in the world is dead or in jail."

"Close enough sir.  We've got a panicked call to Vallone about an Iranian named Aman."

"What?", Scott looked intrigued.

"I did some digging, It seems Mark Mavdavi, has an Iranian cousin."

"Go on.", Scott was smiling.

"Aman Ibrahim is a political refugee.  He was a nuclear scientist for the Iranians.  He cut a deal with the US for political asylum.  He was practically a slave in Terran.  Vallone and Mavdavi seem to think he's is some kind of terrorist threat."

Scott was grinning now, "Is he?"

"Most likely no.  This is a man without a country, the Iranians hate him.  He needs the US more than we need him.  He has had access to a couple of CIA honeypots after all ties were cut and did nothing.  He probably panicked when he realized what they were involved in.  I'm checking now to see if he has turned himself in yet."

Scott whispered letting his language slip, "Just wonderin, how'd ya find him?"

"Aman stands out like a sore thumb on the list, once I had his name."

"Well done Jones.  Get up there and kick some doors in.", Scott turned to leave, paused and turned back, "No wait, get the locals on it now and catch up later.  When the dust settles, take a week of R and R."

"Sir, what if they are using the nanites?  They could be a threat."

"Don't be an idiot Jones.  A mechanic?  They don't have the balls or the brains.  Never believe your own bullshit Jones."

Nathen nodded.

Nathen, split off from Scott walking further backstage.  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed.  "Laurence, bag them all.  Oh and make sure you make 'armed and dangerous' crystal clear."
\chapter{}
Lucy was sitting behind her computer, squinting at the ledger on her desk.  She was determined to leave with pile of money.  I can't leave at a loss, she thought.  Finny was supposed to go to kindergarten next year, Lucy thought.  I wonder where we will be.  Can I send her to school or will she need a tutor?

The doorbell rang.  Damn it they'll wake Finny.  Lucy hustled to the front door trying not to loose a slipper.  Conscious of her somewhat sheer nightgown, she peered through the peephole.  Mark and Kento stood on the front porch looking shifty.

She opened the front door.

Kento raised one hand and gave her an awkward wave eyebrows raised.  Mark ogled at her breasts.

Lucy felt tiny arms wrap around her leg.

Somebody was missing.

"Where's Joe?", Lucy asked.

Both Kento and Mark began to speak, but Mark got the jump.

"We're not really sure.", Mark said talking to her breasts.

Kento shot him a look.  Mark looked up and started blushing, eyes wide.

That was too awkward, Lucy knew something was wrong.  She felt weak, but held herself up by the doorframe.

"Can we come in.", Kento inquired.

"Sure.", Lucy calmed her breathing.

Lucy picked up her sleepy daughter and slung her over her shoulder.

"Have a seat", she pointed at the living room.

Lucy carried Finny to her bed and tucked her in.

"Mommy, where's Joe?"

"I don't know."

"Is he OK?", Finny asked.

This girl has sixth sense, Lucy thought.  She shuttered.

"I'm sure he is.", she lied.

"Goodnight.", Lucy kissed her forehead.

Lucy was very careful to close the door as quietly as she could.

She turned to Kento and Mark.  "Would you guys like anything to drink?", trying to feel them out.

"Do you have cola?",  Mark smiled awkwardly.

"Sure.", Lucy smiled.

She heard Kento whispering behind her as she walked into the kitchen, "We don't have time for a drink."

Lucy came back with Mark's cola.  "Thanks.", He said sheepishly.

Kento broke the quiet.  "Lucy we need your help.  We need a ride to my dojo."

"Kento, why didn't you follow Mark like you planned.", Lucy inquired.

"Joe has my bike."

Lucy felt faint again.

"So an accident prone, macho, hemophiliac, that doesn't know how to ride a motorcycle, is at large with your sport bike?"

Lucy felt surprisingly calm as she said it.

Kento replied, "Yes."

"Actually we know where he is.  He's tying to chase down Aman on Grand Central Parkway.", Mark volunteered.

Kento just shook his head.

Lucy could see there was more.

"Oh no, go on.",  Lucy could feel the tears welling up.

With tired eyes, Kento continued, "Aman ransacked the shop.  Joe saw him leaving with everything he could stuff in his car.  Joe thinks he's going to the Olympic trials to perform some sort of nanite terrorist attack."

"What do you think?", Lucy asked not really caring.

"It's too soon for Aman to launch an effective attack.  I think Joe's just feeling guilty."

He's feeling guilty about me, Lucy thought.  Tears were flowing down her cheeks.

Mark hung his head.  Kento watched Lucy, brow furrowed, as she started to cry.

Mark's phone rang.  He looked stunned.  He pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the number.

"Is it Joe?", Lucy asked.

Mark didn't answer, looking stupefied.

Lucy grabbed the phone from Mark.  "Joe is that you."

"Lucy."

"What stupid thing are you doing now."

"I'm at the stadium.  I think I see Aman's car in the parking lot."

"Forget it.  Leave.  Even if you stop him you'll get caught doing it."

"Lucy, I can't let him kill these people."

"You can't stop him either."

"I can."

"Joe what about us.", Lucy started sobbing.

The phone was silent.

"Joe if you don't turn around right now, we're though."

Kento's and Mark's jaws were open.

"Lucy, it's my fault."

Lucy cared for Joe now more than ever.

"Fine, then we're through."

Lucy hung up the phone.

The room was silent as Lucy fell to the floor and sobbed.

Eventually she stopped crying, and handed Mark's cell phone back to him.

Kento spoke up, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"Kento, it's OK we already talked about this.  My priorities are still the same.", Lucy lied.

Mark looked terrified, as if he saw a ghost.  "You and Joe, and you broke it off just like that."

Lucy wiped her eyes, "That's what I need the cops to think."

A moment of recognition blinked across Mark's face, "Oh."  He stared at his phone in a new light.

Lucy knew her tears were real.  She worried about how strongly Joe made her feel.

Lucy wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath. "We had better get going if you don't want to be arrested where you sit."
\chapter{}
Joe put his cell phone in his pocket and crouched down next to Kento's bike.  He held his gloved hands next to the bike's exhaust pipes, rubbing them furiously.  Joe's hands were stiff with numbness, and he was sure he would need them to work. 

He rubbed and blew on his hands for another minute before hiding the scraped up bike and his helmet behind a dumpster.  He crotched down near the alley's exit and examined the stadium.  The parking lot was surrounded by a 15 ft fence.  A security guard in a red pickup truck was driving up and down the lanes of the lot.  There were many parked cars, but few people walking around.  The trials must be almost over by now Joe thought.

Joe stood up and casually walked toward the fence.  He once again crouched down, this time between a double parked car and a van.  Joe layed on the cold ground and watched the security truck cruise toward him under the van.  Joe felt the weight of exhaustion as he stared at the truck.  Joe ran Lucy's words through his mind as he waited.  "It's over."

Damn it Joe, focus.  He was furious with his longing for Lucy's forgiveness.  You don't get to be distracted, not you.  Joe imagined himself more fragile than he was.  He remembered fighting exhaustion at Sun auto and thinking to himself 'You're not like the other mechanics. You don't get to be tired.  You don't get to make mistakes.'  

The meet has got to be nearly over by now, Joe thought.  So when Aman gets here he won't waste any time.  Joe peered around both sides of the van into the vast parking lot.  I don't see his car.  There is still another quarter of the lot I can't see.

The truck was driving away from him.  Joe decided it was now or never.

He jumped on the fence and quickly scaled it.  He hopped over the top and practically fell to the ground.  Joe walked casually toward the far end of the parking lot.  He donned his clarks as he walked.  Careful to tuck their wire into his leather jacket.  They usually confiscate cameras at these things, he thought.

Joe surveyed the lot as he walked searching for blue paint among the black white and gray cars.  Joe noticed he was now walking toward another security truck.

I'm going to get caught out here, Joe thought.  I need to take a look inside in case he is already here.  Joe changed direction while still examining the sea of cars.  

Joe came across a secondary gate on the side of the stadium.  A single gaunt security guard was asleep in a chair, next to a row of turnstiles.  Rather than counting his blessings Joe cursed the guards slumber.  That's just great, he thought sarcastically.  Aman didn't even need the tickets, he could have walked right in.

Joe slowly opened the door as little as possible as not to let a cool breeze blow over the slumped man.  Joe snuck past the man's folding chair and hopped the turnstile.

"Hey!"

Joe's heart skipped a beat.

"Hey you! No camera's! Come back here!"

Joe felt the adrenaline flow through his veins.  Sprinting away from the man was practically instinct for him.  Joe ran through the doors and up the main corridor.  No guards were in sight.  He has no idea how fast I am, Joe smiled to himself.  The guard's protests trailed off quickly as Joe ran past the first seating gate he saw.  He opened the door to the next gate he found inside the round exterior hallway.

It's good I didn't break a sweat, Joe thought.  Two ushers stood in the doorway as Joe walked through.  They largely ignored him, focused on their tunneled view of the lanky runners making their way around the track.  Joe veered left and casually walked up the stairs to higher seating.

Joe emerged on the sparsely populated second level and sat down.  He noticed a few empty seats on the first level.  They probably won't even look for me up here, he thought.  Anyone filming would want a seat on the first level.  It's amazing how a guard can care so much about a camera.  The real danger was far beyond him.

Joe read at the number printed on his arm rest, R-2E.  I'm not sure what seat, but I remember I was in H on the second level, he thought.  Maybe Aman is there.

He signaled for his keyboard HUD, and began rummaging through his files.  Filenames scrolled down his HUD obstructing his view of the track as Joe typed in the air.  Apparently satisfied Joe typed stereomag and pressed his pinky down.   The semi transparent view of the track was obstructed by a blurry HUDless magnified view.

Joe held his head very steady and the view improved.  He found the section marked with a giant "H" and panned slowly over the second level.  He examined every empty seat, no Aman.

Joe examined the entire "H" section, no Aman.  He had just moved on to "I" when Joe noticed a hand reaching toward his side with his right eye.  Joe jumped out of his seat sideways and sliced his hand horizontally through the air to clear his clarks.  Two guards were awkwardly lunging toward him.  Joe jumped over the empty seat in front of him handily dodging them.

These guards were wearing holstered guns.  Joe wondered if the guard at the gate was as well.  He couldn't remember.  Joe jogged up the isle, away from them, and toward the far staircase for the "R" section.

"Stop", the guards were drowned out by the cheering crowd.

Joe tried not to smile.  It sounded so desperate.  He flew down the stairs and casually followed the inner hallway behind the second level seating.  At "B" Joe climbed down the stairs to the first level.  There were no guards blocking "B" off and checking tickets, like many of the other lower levels.  Maybe they were all on the other side looking for me, Joe thought.

Joe found an empty seat on the isle in the second row.  I can't turn stereomag back on, Joe thought.  I can't see what's coming.  Joe started looking through the audience around him for Aman.  This is like finding a needle in a haystack, Joe thought.  Couldn't Aman wear a turbine and robes instead of a T-shirt, oh wait that the Hindi's that do that.  Or is it the Muslims also?  I don't know.  Joe absentmindedly reached under his jacket to scratch his injured arm. 

The scab was hard as a rock.  No wonder I'm itchy, Joe thought.  This scab is pulling my skin taught.  It feels like strips of steel are welded to me.

Joe scanned behind him and notice the guard had returned to the "B" entrance he had used.  No make that two, and three more on the other side.  Crap, I'm cornered, Joe thought.

Joe subtlety signaled for his keyboard again.  More commands scrolled by the screen and Joe's nanite HUD returned.  Then vector arrows appeared on the outside edge of each lens.  Indicating the guards speed and direction.  Then the edges of clarks lenses blacked out, and Joe could see their wide angle images though the clarks peripheral cameras.

They were five rows back.  Four.  Three.  Joe was beginning to worry.

Joe jumped up just as they reached the row behind him.

"Get him!", a distant guard yelled.

It seemed to Joe like time slowed. Joe squirmed out of reach as he jumped out of his seat.  He sprinted forward and leaped in the only direction left to go, over the three foot wall and onto the track.

"Freeze", as Joe ran he saw their distorted images aiming their guns behind him.

Joe heard a guard cock his guns.  How did I hear that, Joe thought.  Things seemed to move in slow motion as he started to run.  He noticed there was something missing.  Joe realized the stadium had gone dead silent.

Joe jumped on the track next to the Olympic hopefuls.  They did their best to ignore Joe's strange participation in the race.  Realizing the only reason he hadn't been shot was his proximity to the runners, Joe accelerated to a sprint.

Joe's heart was pounding.

He spotted the main entrance to the track floor dead ahead.  There were no guards in sight ahead of him.   Joe heard the runners breathing, and their shoes lightly scuffing the track as they raced next to him.  They seemed to be accelerating.  They seemed to be trying to get away from Joe, the best way they could, by running from him.  I can't let them get ahead, Joe thought.

I have to get to that exit before it's blocked, or I'm dead.  The realization sent a chill of fear down his spine.

Joe's oxygen HUD blipped down to 99%  Joe picked up his pace as fast as he could.

His thighs began to strain against his blue jeans as they pumped.  His calves felt unnaturally restrained, bulging in their cotton covering.  Joe began to push himself harder than he ever had.  He struggled just to keep his back strait and his body balanced as the speed pitched his body toward the ground.

Joe's diaphragm ached from exertion.  Barley able to breath, Joe saw some very surprised Olympians from the back of the pack in the side of his clarks.

Joe felt adrenaline flow through his blood like fire.  For every two steps the hopefuls took, Joe took three.  A giant grin swept across Joe's face.

I'm beating them.

The stadium was dead silent as Joe tore past the runners, and toward the large exit off the stadium floor.  He could swear there was a second when he was open to a clean shot from the guards as he broke away from the runners.  Joe waited for the desperate shot, but it never came.  He imagined the stupefied guards staring at Joe with their mouths open.

Joe smiled again.

Joe worked his legs as he tried to slow down.  He half stumbled down ramps and through a mostly empty mens locker room.  A few half dressed athletes stared as Joe ran by in his scratched leather jacket and ripped bloodied jeans.  Great, I really blend, Joe thought.  The cops must have been called.  I need to get out off here, now.

Joe ran down a couple of nondescript hallways and stopped short as he started to round a corner.  A New York City cop was talking on a radio.  He was facing down a parallel hallway to Joe's.  He was guarding a double door with an emergency exit sign.

A way out, Joe thought. He must not think I could have gotten this far yet, or his gun would be pulled out, like the others.  Joe's stomach churned with fear as he started toward the cop.  A NYC will shoot me, he thought, that's no security guard.

Joe was hurdling towards the door behind the distracted man.  I'm going to run right behind him, Joe thought.  One of Joe's feet stumbled a little.  One sneaker squeaked.  The cop turned just as Joe was in arms reach.  The cop dropped the radio as he reached for Joe.  Joe twisted in mid air sliding just out of his grasp.

"Ooofff.", Joe slammed into the bar in the middle of the emergency door, opening it.  The over extended officer fell to the ground.  Falling back into a run, Joe darted up the stairs.  He heard rustling and the saftey of the cops gun click back, but Joe was already out of sight up the stairs.  

"Freeze!", the cops order was already trailing off in the distance.

Joe ran up two flights of stairs and came to a fire door, where he paused.  If I go out this door the alarm will sound and they will know where I am, but the stadium will empty out and give me cover.

Joe caught his breath, reared back, and kicked the fire door open.  He broke into a sprint in the open parking lot.  Joe could swear he heard the air he displaced whoosh as he ran by the isle of cars.

No alarm, Joe thought.  I guess they trap it before they send out the evacuation signal.  Damn.  Joe heard screeching tires in the far side of the parking lot.  He glanced at the rearview displayed at the edge of his clarks.  A tiny red pickup truck was growing larger fast.  Vector marks appeared with sharp angles, indicating the truck would catch up soon.  Joe's oxygen count blipped down to 92%.

Joe suddenly felt very tired.  I can't give in.  I have to keep going.  Joe felt one of his legs start to cramp up.  Joe saw a second red pickup coming from the other side of the stadium.  Speeding toward him as well.

Joe slowed to a jog.  The cramp in his right leg was getting worse now.  I've got to keep running.  I wonder if I was hurt in the motorcycle wreck.  It had been years since I cramped up before I was winded.

"Hey, you stop!", A tall black cop was running toward Joe from his side about 100 yards away.  His gun was drawn, but Joe was pretty sure he couldn't hit a billboard at that range.

A loud noise pierced the night.  Screeching tires ended in a hideous crash.  Foregoing his display, Joe turned his head as he jogged.

The trucks had crashed into each other.  It seemed obvious what happened.  They could both see Joe running, but their view of each other was blocked.

"Yes!", Joe grumbled aloud.

Inspired, Joe's pain melted away.  He pushed himself up to a run.  He was nearing the tall fence and putting distance between himself and the cop.  Joe jumped five feet up on the fence and climbed to the top in two seconds.

At the top of the fence, Joe hesitated.  A lifetime of his fragile nature overshadowing ability, had conditioned Joe to think twice.

Joe jumped from the top of the fence to the ground, landing on his hands and pulling into a roll on the concrete sidewalk.  Joe sprang to his feet and ran to the ally where the bike was stashed.

Joe saw the tiny cop in the side of his now crooked clarks as he ran across the street and into the ally.  Now Joe had fifty yards and a fifteen foot fence between them.  He never had a chance, Joe thought.  Joe smiled a crooked grin.
\chapter{}
Joe was sitting alone in the badly lit parking lot behind Kento's Dojo.  There was almost no background noise, pretty strange in metro NY.  The motorcycle was parked on it's kickstand next to him.  The long shadows would be eerie if Joe didn't welcome the cover so much.  The cops had to be looking for him now.  Joe hoped they didn't spot Kento's license plate on his way here.  If not there was no connection he could think of to look for him at the Dojo.

Joe was leaning against the Dojo's steel back door.  He had given the secret knock to no avail.  Kento and Mark never arrived.

Where was everyone?

Aman wasn't at the stadium, and Joe was sure he intended to betray them in the biggest way he could.  Somebody would die this week because of Aman, Joe was sure of it.  He'd be there to stop it if he just knew where to look.

Where was Kento and Mark?  We were supposed to be skipping town tomorrow.  They should have been here hours ago.

Joe pulled his phone from his pocket.  He called Mark's phone for the twentieth time since he arrived.  It rang four times and went to voicemail.  

"Hello, this is Mark.  You must be one of my many fans."

Joe hung up.

Joe's cell phone beeped twice, indicating a message.  The phone's LCD read, "Sergio Vallone called."  It was four in the morning, what could my dad want, Joe wondered.

Joe called his voicemail.

"Hello, Joe", only Joe's father's voice grumbled like that.  "I need to talk with you.  It's, well it's about your aunt and I.  Please understand, I love you and I miss your mother."

Joe stomach dropped.  His dad sounded very drunk.

"Joseph, your aunt and I love each other.  Please come and see me. I need to talk to you.  Please be my son.  We need you."

Joe pretended not to understand what the message meant, while the news sunk in.

A cheerful voice taunted Joe.  "Press 7 to delete this message.  Press 4 to save this message.  Press 5 to."

Joe stared into space as he pressed the button to hang up the phone.

For a second Joe felt happy for them.  Then he hated himself for it.

I never want to talk to my dad again.  Joe was breathing heavily.  Why did he do this? Why is he doing this to me.  Why would he wait all this time just to torture me with this?

It dawned on Joe.

What if they where waiting all this time, just to tell me now?  How long did my dad feel this way?  Why didn't he tell me?

Joe stood up and started pacing.

Can't they find someone else?  Why didn't aunt Teressa and dad date other people all along?

Joe stopped dead.

Did dad just marry my mom to get to her sister?  That dumb drunk!

Joe punched the door.

"Fuck!"

Joe reached for the helmet and gloves.

That's it, I'm going over there.

Joe shook with anger as he setup and started the bike.

As Joe tore out of the parking lot, he saw Lucy driving the team van around the corner. 

Joe saw her eyes light up as he whizzed by her.  Joe's rage and the bike's throttle ebbed for just a moment.  Joe almost hit the brakes, instead he shook his head and nailed the throttle.
\chapter{}
Joe pulled up to the boarded up house where he had given the begger fifty dollars, just a couple weeks ago.  Joe wondered if the man was sleeping in the house tonight.  Joe shut the bike off and pushed the motorcycle through a broken fence into the backyard.  He pushed it behind an overgrown bush and tossed the scrapped up helmet behind it.

Joe heard a siren and peered through the bush at the road.  A state trooper raced by.  What is a state trooper doing around here, Joe wondered.  County cops handle the local stuff.

Joe decided to play it safe and traveled though backyards rather than walk on the open sidewalk.  Joe hopped the fence into the next yard.  He slipped on his clarks as he trotted thought the yard.   His HUD read 100% 98%.  Joe suspected that meant two percent of the nanites were used up in his bizarre high tech scabs, but he couldn't be sure.

Joe glanced at his ripped bloody jeans as he walked thought the dark backyard.  What would his dad think of his obvious injuries?  Could Joe calm him without fully explaining?

Who cares.  He won't even notice when I'm done with him.  Joe was furious with himself for feeling any concern.

Joe snuck from yard to yard as he made his way to his fathers house.   He only had to double back once when an attentive dog started barking through the back door at him.  Surprisingly, no one woke up despite setting a half dozen motion lights off.

Joe thought to himself.  The motion lights don't help if you don't wake up.  He smiled a little.   His ten minute journey reminded him of sneaking home after all night drinking binges in high school.  Nothing ever really changes, Joe thought comforting himself.  He smiled a little broader.

Joe noticed the flashing lights a couple of blocks away.  The red and blue light reflecting off the the trees were still visible against the near dawn sky.  Joe sped up as he darted across the street to his block.  He craned his neck and stood on his toes, but couldn't see over the tall fences in the neighboring back yard.

I have to find out what is happening.  I have to get closer. 

Joe hopped the neighboring fence into corner house's back yard.  He followed a winding path along the back of the house and ducked behind a shrub on it's side.

Across the street were ten cop cars and a swat van in front of his dad's house.  Fifteen different cops were crouched behind patrol cars pointing guns at the front door.  Glowing spotlights highlighted every crack in the houses aging paint.  Joe counted four visible swat team members crouched on the side of the house.

A man with a megaphone stood up enough to clear the police cars hood.  "Joseph Vallone, this is the police, come out slowly with your hands up."

Nobody called Joe, Joseph, and now twice in one day.  Weird.  Joe was relieved to hear his name.  At least dad didn't do anything stupid when he was drunk.

A minute passed as Sergio came to.  His progress though the house was obvious, as the trail of lit windows slowly wandered down to the front door.

Twenty guns adjusted their aim as the wooden front door opened.  Sergio looked totally disheveled.  His hair was practically standing on end.   His shirt was buttoned cock-eyed.  He blinked twice in the blinding light.  He was stumbling a bit.  He was still drunk.

"Sir we need to see your hands right now."

Sergio pushed the screen door open with his right hand.  He lifted his left hand to shield his eyes from the spotlights.  It was holding a bottle.

It seemed like all twenty guns shot him three times each.

Joe stood up screaming, "NO, DAD!" Joes voice thundered up and down the street like the voice of god.

Blood sprayed everywhere from Sergio's wounds.  Joe could swear he looked toward his voice before his head fell.

Joe was frozen in place while his brain rewired itself, trying to cope with the bizarre horror.

The police stared at Joe with strange recognition.

Once distant officer yelled out, "That's him."

Joe's tear stained eyes blinked to life with purpose, just as the guns all turned toward him.

"Halt!"

"Don't move!"

"Police"

The voices overlapped each other.  Joe didn't care what they said.  They were just pawns, of no consequence.

Just like his dad.

Joe turned around with a start an began to run.

Guns started to fire from the crowded roadblock.  Joe heard bullets hitting trees and cars. 

Blood sprayed from Joe's left shoulder.  A bullet had passed right though it.  It didn't matter.  Joe was really good at one thing in battle, running.

I'll just run until they kill me.  That's how I'll die with honor.

Joe's wound was pouring blood down his chest.  He picked the pace.

Joe's clarks, still configured with the wide angle rear cameras, showed Joe had run out of their sight.  The gunshots promptly stopped.

Joe pounded the pavement, he heard parked cars whoosh by as he ran.  Joe heard squealing tires.  A patrol car came flying around the corner.

Joe darted into a backyard on the next block.  The car screeched to a stop in front of the house.  The doors opened as two cops got out and ran after him.

"Freeeezeee!"

Any second the shock will hit me, and I'll fall over dead, Joe thought.  Joe hurdled the chain link fence separating the yards guiding his jump with his hurt arm.  He noticed it was very stiff.  I shouldn't have used that arm.  That was dumb.

Joe focused back on running.  The cops were falling behind.

Joe bolted down the strange driveway and flew up the street.  Cover is important, but speed is my advantage.  I need to use it, Joe thought.

Joe was surprised that he didn't see any cops for that entire block.  Joe looked at his wound as he ran.  The blood soaked the top of his jeans, but seemed to have stopped there.

Joe's clarks read 91% 67%.  That can't be good.

Joe heard sirens in the distance.  I have more distance than they could imagine.  I need more cover.  Joe ran up another driveway.  Kicking a rickety wooden fence open, splintering it.

Joe sprinted across the yard.  As he cleared the house a pit bull chased him.  This was the house with the dog, Joe remembered.  The dog never got closer than ten feet.  Joe leaned on his right arm as he hopped the fence.  He had trouble moving his left arm for balance.

The bike was only two blocks away.  Joe was in a haze as he ran.  He felt numb.

Joe heard a man cursing and a gunshot followed by a yelp.  The police had found the dog and probably killed it in self defense.

Joe looked down at the pavement behind him for droplets of blood as he ran.  There were none.  My clothes seemed to have soaked it all up.  If I'm lucky, the cops won't even know which way I ran, Joe thought.

Joe stumbled over the final fence.  Joe felt cold from the lost blood and stumbled a little as he bent over to pick up the helmet.  Joe backed the bike up a little and decided to start it in the backyard.  He was to weak to push it any further.

Joe sluggishly climbed on the motorcycle.  He went to reach for the clutch and found he couldn't lift his arm.  He felt his muscles straining but it would only move an inch from his side.

The bullet wound had scabbed immobilizing his shoulder.  Joe leaned forward so he could start the bike with his forearm bent up to the clutch.

Joe started the bike and clicked it into first gear with his foot.  Joe revved the engine and simply let go of the clutch.  The bike spun it's back wheel kicking dirt and four foot grass up.  It slowly inched up forcing Joe in the seat.  Finally the rear wheel caught and Joe almost fell off the bike as he backed off the throttle.

Joe pulled out of the backyard and the adjoining parking lot, and clicked the bike into second without even touching the clutch.  It was not a subtle clunk as the whining motor had it's rotation speed cut in half, but it worked.  Joe hunched over as far forward as he could and realized he could work the clutch so long as he was moving.

Joe's head was pounding as he headed for the parkway.  His clarks read 84% 56%.  He tasted blood.  Joe hoped it wasn't from his lungs.

Joe zoned in and out of conciseness as he rode the speed bike home in the early dawn.  He fought hard against the urge to sleep, enhanced by the wretched shivering coldness that pierced him to the bone.  When Joe felt especially weak, he replayed the image of his father being gunned down, triggering his diminishing adrenal gland like a switch.

 When he arrived at the dojo a couple of Kento's students were standing outside the front entrance in their sparring gi.  Joe knew he would be safe if he could just fall on the small patch of grass in front of the karate studio.  The students would run in and tell Kento, and he would find Joe.  Joe rolled the bike up on the sidewalk and hit the kill switch with his good hand.  The silent bike tipped over on the grass at it lost momentum.  Joe didn't even remember hitting the ground.
\chapter{}
Joe was laying on a simple cot pale and sweating.  Kento tilted Joe's unconscious head up and poured a small disposable cup of water into his mouth.  He gently lowered Joe's head.  Kento's mind raced as he stood up and looked around at the badly lit storage room.

My students have pledged their lives to the government as a proxy for the people.  Now that the government has failed, they need to understand that distinction.  Kento's brow furrowed with distress.  Miscommunication will end our journey right here, but more importantly it will be fatal for more than just us three.  MIR has the upper hand in their ultimate goal of self promotion.

Kento walked out of the Dojo's storage room past his office and toward the exercise room in the front.  He walked past Mark moving like a blind man, furiously hacking on the hid arm computers HUD from behind now opaque Clarks.  He could smell Marks sweat.

Kento's Tuesday morning students milled about nervously bathed in easternly sunlight.  Men and women of every race and age where there for a early morning workout.  Kento walked to the front of the white padded exercise room.

"Class take your places.", Kento spoke with an unusual authority for someone his age. 
Kento waited for a minute while his unnerved students settled into their places.  He watched their faces and hands for ques.  At this point it can't hurt to try, he thought.

Kento paced sequentially up and down the rows of students as he spoke,  "People are eminently practical which is good, but they easily swayed."

"One of societies oldest roles, is to stop attacks on life.  When in doubt, people err on the side of caution, for things they can not take back.  This born of a practical limitation, that of worldly justice.  People simply do no have all the facts and therefore cannot judge with certainty."

Kento felt breeze on his body hair, a young student behind him stirred.

"Sometimes a group of people can put the cart before the horse.  Sensing opportunity, the group convinces society that their value on life is born from ideology not a practical limitation.  When they succeed, life's value becomes subject to rhetoric.  Lives are revalued like those of slaves or livestock, and blood is shed."

Kento saw the shadow of a kneeling man dip. Kento worked his way back to front of the room.  

"Be cautious.  You are surrounded by people who do not understand injustice.  You can identify them by their arrogant conviction and willingness to judge.  Seek humility as you would seek shelter in a growing storm."

Kento turned to the students as he talked.  A half dozen students with blank faces changed their posture.  The stationary students looked dismayed.

"The man in the back room is a fugitive.  In his quest for knowledge his talent has offended those who would turn loyalty to an ideology, into their own engine of destruction.  I only ask that you forget what you have seen today.  When you weigh the virtues of honoring my request you only have your knowledge of my honor and sense of purpose to sway you.  If you do not trust my sincerity at that level, may I humbly suggest that rather than immediately acting, that you postpone judgment until he can again speak for himself.  Then you may ask him."

The dipping man crossed his arms as Kento spoke.  Damn, Kento thought, so much for that.

One middle aged white woman asked, "Sensi, when will he be well again?"

Kento paused reading her expression, "I am not certain, but you may stop each day at this time if you like."

A teenage boy asked, "What is he accused of?"

Kento bowed his head slightly.  "He will be accused of treason.  But he simply benefited from a crime his aunt committed."

"What crime is that?", the boy asked.

He seemed sincerely concerned, Kento thought.

"Copyright infringement, through breach of contract."

The crowd murmured, the dipping man laughed.  "Did she download a song?  They shot him for that?"

"I had better let him tell you the details."

Kento waited a few seconds for more questions.  "It has truly been an honor being your teacher.  You have taught me much as well.  I may not be able to continue, so please know my thoughts are with you.  Any debts owed to me are forgiven.  Please see in my office now for any debts owed to you."

Kento bowed deeply.  He turned and walked to his office.  He watched his students reflections in the office window glass as he walked.  They mostly stayed seated, clearly overwhelmed with what to do next.  Mark was waiting for him by the door.

"Kento what the hell were you doing telling them all that.", Mark's accent was strong. He sounded angry and afraid.

Kento turned in the doorway and watched his students file out of the Dojo as he spoke, "Mark, the police will not find you here without help.  They will need someone to tell them where you are.  My students, without understanding what they are doing would defiantly reveal what they knew, although perhaps indirectly.  You would expect and explanation in return for the burden of a secret like that, why shouldn't they?"

Mark harrumphed.

A petite Chinese girl walked past Kento and though the office door. 

"Sensi Robert, can we help you."

A second slightly taller Chinese girl walked into the office as well.

"Anything you need master."

"Mark this is Dong.", Kento opened his palm to the first girl.  Kento moved into the office as he spoke.  He glanced toward the office window as he walked.

The girl smiled warmly and said, "I prefer dragon."

Mark nodded his head.  His eyes were open wide.

"And this is Lin.", She smiled as well.

Kento noticed the dipping man glance back at him.  Kento hung his head, and turned to Mark. 

"They are my best two students."

"Oh.", Mark seemed surprised.  He turned to Dong, "Does your name mean dragon?"

"No, but it should.", Dragon smiled with confidence.

Lin scowled.

Kento turned to his students.  "We will be leaving the Dojo in a few minutes.  Lin, Douglas trusts you.  Go stall him."

Dragon and Mark looked surprised.  Lin was stonefaced.

Kento calmly elaborated to Lin, "He will betray us.  He has no doubt."

Lin turned and ran after Douglas.

"I thought you said we would be safe here.", Mark sounded worried.

"I was wrong.", Kento looked disappointed, "First, I thought Joe would be well.  Second I believed that I would be able to pretend that we were not here, hiding you two in the back room.  Joe's announced arrival and new found fame made staying nearly impossible.  I hoped that I had built up a report with my students in that they would trust me above the law on this."

Everyone stood quietly in the office, engrossed in their own thoughts.

Kento spoke up, "We can't stay here.  We have to move Joe."

"Where would you go?", Dragon inquired.

"We can go to my apartment.", Kento offered.

"Uh what will that buy us, a half an hour?", Mark asked sarcastically.

"Nothing points to my apartment.  All my mail and paperwork are sent here.  Nobody knows where I live."

Dragon looked very pleased.

Mark's face relaxed a little.  He looked at Dong, "Do you drive?  Does Lin?  We don't have a car."

"I can borrow my parents minivan.", Dong offered.

"No.  To out of the ordinary.",  Kento looked pensive.

The group was silent again as they thought.

Mark suddenly spoke up. "We can call a cab!", he exclaimed.

Kento raised his eyebrows.  Mark seemed to have no volume control.  He looked though the glass.  No one seems to have heard that, Kento thought.

"That seems like a really bad idea.", Dragon scowled.

"You don't understand.", Mark seemed proud of himself, "My uncle co-owns the three sixes cab company."

Fate has been kind to us today, Kento thought.

"Call him.", Kento raised his eyebrows.

Mark picked up his cell phone from the office desk and walked toward the back room where Joe was.

"Sensi, can we come with you.", Dragon asked her voice more flat than usual.  "Your purpose seems greater than anything I can imagine doing here."

"You should finish school.", Kento said reluctantly.  "Coming with me at your age would be reckless.  You can see that we may all die."

"Not me.", Dragon raised her eyebrows.

Mark walked back in the room.  "It's done.  They will be here in twenty minutes.  They are going to meet us around back."

Kento looked at Dong.  "We will talk about this more later.", Kento scowled.

Kento grabbed a pad and wrote an address and a grocery list on the paper.  He ripped it off and handed it to Dragon.  

"A case of baby food?  Three glass bowls?  Four bottles of Drano?  This is very weird stuff."

"You and Lin meet us at my place with all these items.  Knock once hard and twice lightly.", Kento opened his wallet and gave them money.

Kento noticed Dragon's hesitation.  She looked awestruck and dreamy.

"Do not let anyone follow you.  We have powerful enemies."
\chapter{}
Scott stared at his trophy case from his desk, he took a sip of his coffee.

This coffee is old, thought Scott.  How dare Melinda, she mocks me.

"Melinda, you idiot, this coffee is from this morning."

"Yes sir.", A Hispanic woman in a formal blazer and skirt walked in the room.

"Fresh coffee.  Now!"

"Yes sir.  Sorry sir.", Melinda took the mug and carried it out with her.

Scott pressed his fingers into his temple, hard.  He rubbed his head until Melinda returned.

She placed the mug on the desk without saying a word.  The phone rang in the waiting room.

"I'll get that.", Melinda scampered out of the room.

Of course you will, who else would you idiot.  The phone on Scott's desk rang, he felt a chill of frustration shoot up his spine.

"Yes, Melinda.",  Scott spoke through his teeth.

"Sir, it's the Secretary of Defense."

Scott's anger was sucked out of him.  Total fear overwhelmed him.

In a tiny voice he said, "Give me twenty seconds, then put him through."

That little twit was was ruining everything.  My plans, they were perfect.

Scott eyes were wide, he looked crazed.

The phone rang.  A wash of calm overtook Scott's features as he picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Scott Conner."

"Hello Conner, this is Jackson."

"Hi Lenny, long time no."

Secretary Jackson cut him off, "Don't Lenny me."

"Sir what's wrong.", Scott was immersed in his lie.

"I just heard from the chairman of the Joint Chiefs.  You know what he told me.  He told that you gave the entire senior ranks of the military a sneak preview of the nanites MIR has been developing.  Do you know whats wrong with that?"

"No sir."  Scott was in the army again.

"That means that you have been developing nanites behind my back.  As far as you are concerned I am the president.  The leader of the free world.  Do you get that?  And you just pissed me off, big time."

"Sorry sir."

"You know what I heard.  I heard that a public blood testing facility had a small problem with a routine test.  It turns our they were unable to record the genetics of this, this, blood sample because of some contaminants." Lenny stuttered,  "Do you know what those contaminants where?"

Scott's heart sank to his stomach again. "No sir."

"They were full blown nanites. We had to shut the whole town down."

Vallone still had nanites. Graceland is dead.  Scott scribbled "destroy Graceland" on a notepad on his desk.

"We have two hundred lab techs in DOD facilities for interrogation.  Do you have any idea what that costs.  What are we going to do with techs that saw those nanites firsthand?"

The phone was silent.

"Conner you there? I'm not done with you yet."

"Yes sir.",  Scott grit his teeth.

"You purpose, Datahold's purpose, is to grind nano research to a halt by any means necessary.  Your own research is included in that.  That is the will of the people.  That is the will of the president."

"We spend billions on anti-nano messages every year."

"Conner how do I spell this out for you.  I should never have to call you first.  That indicates surprise.  If I thought that you were developing nanites, the secret service would be in on it.  The CIA would be in on it.  The NSA would be in on it. Not your shadowy pet project.  How do I know you don't aim to take the presidents job from him?"

Scott twitched, that hit a little close to home.

"Now. God help me if you lie to me.  Is MIR developing nanites on it's own?"

Scott had lost control.

"Sir all the pieces were right there.  It was too easy.  You need to understand.."

"What you are charged with insulating and protecting the intellectual property of the United States. You have failed that."

Scott recalled his years of scraping and sucking up to unworthy sycophants.  That's it, Scott thought, I own this from now on.  I have nothing else to lose.

"Sir, you have been deceived."

"What?"

"Intellectual property doesn't work any more that Keynesian economics.  Who fed you that crap.  Did you learn that in public school?  I thought you were ivy league?"

"What that hell are you talking about?"

"Sir do you think the Chinese give a crap who owns the patent?  What scientist thought of it first?  For a gentleman's game you need gentlemen.  Who are you kidding.  This is war just waiting to happen."

The defense secretary was silent.

"The bottom line the only way to force people to play this game is guns and lawyers.  Consider us both.  You not have realized it at the time, but when you commissioned Datahold you were admitting our weakness, the weakness of the United States.  You asked for new three letter agency to deal with the threat and you got it, MIR.  Now get out of the way and let us get it done.",  Scott's drawl was stronger now.

"I don't like your tone."

"And I don't like your convenient denial.  I'm doing this for America, no amount of silly patent rules and silly secret databases will protect us from foreign nanite warfare. The only thing that will do that is other nanites, superior nanites.  Now we are a step ahead, and this leak is only bump in the road."

"And who says you are the best man for the job?"

"You did.  And now you have to live with me, since it takes years just to learn how to operate these things."

"I need to speak to the president about this."

"You do that, you'll let me know.  I'm ready to serve, if you'll let me."

Scott hung up the phone.

Scott grinned like he hadn't in twenty years.  It made his face hurt.
\chapter{}
Joe hurt all over.  His head was pounding.  He felt a cold sweat dripping down his forehead.  His shoulder throbbed and ached.

My dad.

Joe lay awake for an hour listening to strange voices and typing.  Kento and Mark's voices were familiar in the sea of sublte noise fading in and out.  Joe couldn't face anyone yet.  His eyes just kept playing the horror of watching his dad die in front of him.  No not in front of him, because of him.  In his place.

What did he want to say to me?  How long had Dad hidden his feelings for aunt Teressa?  What would I have said to him?  To aunt Teressa?  What would he say about nearly being cured?  What would he say about stealing the nanites?  About aunt Teressa's sacrifice?  Would this have pulled him out of his slump?

"No dad!", Joe closed eyes were tearing and his teeth were clenched.

"Joe.", Kento was kneeling over him, "I'm so sorry."

It was him that bastard.  That monster made me take those nanites.  He knows it too. Kento knows he put that gun to Sergio's head.

Joe felt the rage drain out of him.  That's crazy.  It wasn't Kento, Kento was trying to help me.  My curiosity was to blame.  I had to know how they worked.  I had to feel healthy again, like that day in the hospital.  Building robots on TV wasn't good enough for me.  I had to be a part of something bigger.  Dad had to die for my giant ego.

Joe fingers felt numb to the knuckles from clutching his bedding.

My pride, bigger than anything.  Bigger than Aunt Teressa.  Bigger than Robert.  Bigger than my love for Lucy and Finny.  Bigger than Mark.  Bigger than dad.  Bigger than Nathan Jones.  Bigger than Scott Conner.

Joe remember Nathan's mocking sneer at their meeting.  Or Scott's condescending tone toward Joe's Aunt.  Their lack of regard for my life.  No, not caring about the lives my aunt was working with them to save is as bad as it gets.

If I'm evil, those guys are Satan.

Joe's felt a surge of adrenilin, his eyes opened wide.

"Joe, you're back.", Mark sounded relieved.

Joe just stared at him blankly from the bed.  Rage brewing under the surface.

"Are you OK?", Kento was pensive.

Joe turned his head to look around.  They were in a simple studio apartment with as many milk crates and bean bags as legitimate pieces of furniture.  Muted daylight streamed in through uneven blinds.  Two oriental women sat with a young boy with light brown hair at a simple kitchen table, and turned to watch Joe quietly.  Ten blinking beige PCs lined up in a row were attached to a single monitor.  Mark sat in front of them, with a wireless keyboard in his lap.  An ancient TV adorned with rabbit ears sat in the middle of the room.  Joe noticed three large glass bowls with familiar colored goo.

Joe just looked at Kento.  I'm still clutching the bedding, Joe realized.

"It's not much, but it doesn't leak.", Kento was speaking quietly.  Joe suspected he was trying to be sensitive.

"We heard about your dad on TV.", Mark looked sad.   It must be bad,  Joe thought, Mark is not exactly sensitive.

Kento looked back at Mark, eyebrows raised.

Good old Mark, never follows the plan.  Joe tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.  He heard rain hitting the window.  Joe wondered if it just started or if he just noticed.

The whole room was silent.  Joe was enjoying the awkward silence, until he thought of his aunt.

Joe looked up, he felt a jolt of pain in his shoulder.

Joe grimaced as he talked, "Aunt Teressa?"

"We're pretty sure she's in jail.  She doesn't answer any of her phones.", Kento spoke slowly.

Maybe she was protecting me by avoiding my calls, Joe kidded himself.  Scott, that voice from the hospital, dragged her off to some secret prison. Joe was sure of it.

"They're all gone.", Joe grumbled, voice shaking.

"Well technically she's not dead like your dad.  We know where she is, well I mean, we don't know exactly where, but she's still alive.",  Mark sounded upset.

"Mark that's enough.", Kento stared at him now.

"No, it's not.", Joe was enjoying Mark's childish innocence for a change.

Kento looked at Joe blankly.

"Rob, you don't even sound upset.", Joe tried to drag some kind of emotion out of Kento.

"I am.  We need to keep level heads.", Kento didn't waver from his soft spoken, even tone.

"You can't know, what I feel.",  Joe said as coldly as he could.

"No, but I lost my father too."

Emboldened, Mark pursued Kento's confession, "What happened?"

"He abandoned my mother, to honor her I abandoned him."

Joe wondered if Kento's revelations were driven by guilt or his cause. 

The room was quiet, except for a faint noise of the rain.

Joe turned his head to Kento, and then to the three quiet figures sitting around the table.  His shoulder ached as he leaned up.

"I'm sorry.  My father just died."

Kento spoke up, "Joe, this is Dragon"

"Hi."

"Lin"

"Hello"

"and John."  

"Hi"

"They are my best students."

Lin spoke up, "Sensi, we should go.  We are intruding."

She moved as if to get up.

Kento began to respond, but Joe cut in.

"No, it's OK.  It's not your fault."

Joe was more angry than ever, but not at them.  His shoulder gave and he was forced to lay down.

"They have been running errands for us.  We'd already be out of food and supplies.  That reminds me.", Kento got up and walked to the kitchen area.  He pulled a Tupperware container out of the cabinet.

"Lucy gave this to you."

Kento extended the container to Joe.  Joe reached out for it with his stiff arm and immediately pulled it back.  It was more mobile but a jolt of pain shot up it.

"It hurts to move it?", Mark asked.

"Alot."

"We think the bullet may have grazed a nerve.  You're lucky you can feel it."

"Not really.", Joe wasn't feeling lucky nor did he want to feel it.

Kento put the container on the floor next the low bed.

"It's scab is weird.", Joe said.

"It's nanites attaching to each other.  It seems to have worked perfectly except I didn't set up any flexibility between their bonds.  Your scab is harder than most steel."

"Not very comfortable.", Joe felt tired from the pain.

"Sorry, I didn't think that through.  The nanites are still alive and active and capable of breaking the bond on the command.  I used the ultrasound panel to dissolve about two thirds of the cast based on signal strength.  You know, based on the proximity.",  Mark hesitated.  "But then you started bleeding.  We think your body is totally out of that clotting protein it needs.  So we can't shut them off until you totally heal."

"Oh.", Joe felt as if the room was spinning.  Mark sure talks alot.

"How long has it been?",  Joe asked closing his eyes.

"Two days.", Kento said.

Joe never heard the answer.  The room dissolved away as he dreamed of his aunt.  She was wearing prison orange.
\chapter{}
Joe started to fall over sideways, he woke up just in time to catch himself.  A jolt of pain shot up his bad arm into his shoulder when he leaned on it.

I must have fell asleep again, Joe thought. 

He was sitting on a simple futon in front of the the fifteen inch analog TV on the floor in the middle of the room.  He looked at the digital clock on the HDTV converter box.  It was his last shot to watch the evening news.  He had fallen asleep the past two times.

Joe could swear he smelled the iron from blood in his nose.  He put his finger under his nose and looked at it.  No blood, at least not yet.

Joe looked at the bowls on the counter.  Clouds of nanites were swimming from toxic clumps floating in their birthing fluid.  I'd give all three up for a shot of blood protein, Joe thought.  They all agreed that Mark's clotting hack was impressive, saved Joe's life, and was way too dangerous to use any more than necessary.

The catchy jingle came on to signal the beginning of the evening news.  Joe clicked the volume up with a simple remote.

The reporter looked serious as he spoke, "Our top story today, the White House held a press conference about the recent bioterrorism scare."

A clip was shown of a tired press secretary, "In response to new threats to the welfare of the American people, a new agency specialized in biotech counter intelligence and emergency response department will be formed to help coordinate federal and local officials."

The serious looking reporter came back on screen.  "Sources say, the new agency MIR, was originally a private corporation, working in conjunction with the DOD to develop new vaccines against bioterror attacks." 

"Bullshit.", Joe grumbled out loud.

"They are the parent company of a better known organization Datahold, a patent clearinghouse and the current contract holder of the recently outsourced patent office."

The image of Scott Conner standing behind a podium came on the screen.  Joe could hear Mark inhale as his name came on the screen.

Scott spoke in a heavy down to earth type drawl, "MIR is dedicated to protecting the armed forces and citizens of the United States.  We are specialized in dealing with biotech when designed to be used as a weapon, something the CDC has not had the resources or expertise for thus far.  In a short while America will be much better prepared to face the eminent biological threat.", Scott leaned forward, "Especially now that we have information that Iran may be involved in this attempted attack."

The serious reporter reappeared behind his desk.

"Oh come on.  Ask him questions damn it.", Mark was standing next to Joe.

"I wonder why it's eminent.", Joe grumbled.

"The Association for Modern Medicine and the American Medical Association filed suit in federal court against the White House in response to the adoption of MIR as a high level intelligence agency.  They claim it gives one private corporation unprecedented powers.  AMM president Ralph Lorenz stated simply, 'we've been expecting this for a while.'"

"Judge Harryharma ruled no other information will available on the sealed court proceedings until a decision has been reached."

The camera panned over to an angry woman news anchor. "In other news the terror suspects are still believed to be at large in the metro area.  WBLA news now has information that there may be a third suspect may be involved in the incident at the Olympic trials.  Robert Greenblatt."

A picture of Kento filled the screen.  He looked about seventeen and had dark hair and a dress shirt on.  It looked like a high school yearbook photo.

"May be with Joe Vallone, and Markus Mahdavi."

Mark looked at Kento, "You're Jewish?"

Joe hushed him.

"Joe Vallone was last seen in Nassau county, four nights ago during the now infamous shootout."

"Shootout? I didn't shoot!", Joe was turning red.

"You're hair is brown?", Mark was still staring at Kento.

"Anybody with with information about these three men should call our anti-crime phone line."

The screen panned out to show two much more accurate pictures of Joe and Mark from their Cyborg Wars photos.

"These men are considered armed and very dangerous.  You should not approach them yourselves but instead immediately contact the authorities."

The three young men starred at the TV with slackened jaws.

"In our latest coverage of the war on urban violence, what should you do if a homeless person attacks you?"

Kento clicked the TV off.

"What if there is something about about Lucy and Finny? or aunt Teressa?", Joe sounded annoyed.

Mark sounded remorsefully, "There won't be.  I watched the same thing an hour ago."

"Nothing?"

"Not even a story about Aman.", Kento said. "The Iranian thing was the first I heard of it."

"Who cares.", Joe was distant.

"I care.", Mark sounded incensed.

"They have both been buried alive in some military prison.",  Kento looked horrified.

Kento didn't look horrified much, Joe thought.  He felt his stomach sink.

"We have to do something.", Joe said.

"There's nothing we can do.", Kento shook his head.

"We're leaving tomorrow.", Mark looked down. "Skyler is going to help us."

"Can we even trust him?", Joe wondered aloud.

"I think we can.", Kento paused,  "We have no choice."

"We know he can stick his neck out for people.", Mark said with a weak smile.

"My experience has taught me when you get into real trouble, that many people are an explanation away from sticking their neck out for you.", Kento raised an eyebrow.

"What?", Mark inquired a little excited.

"What what?", Joe asked Mark, confused.

"He has an idea.  I can see it.",  Mark looked excited.

"If we could only", Kento paused, "Get Joe's story out.  It would take some of the pressure of the manhunt, and help Lucy and Teressa."

Mark looked gloomy again, Joe felt gloomy.

Kento went on lost in thought, "If the public was asking to many questions to keep them hidden away.  The truth would resolve itself."

"Did you see that?", Joe pointed at the TV, "It's a dead end.", Joe looked at Kento.

"Joe's right, the TV news won't pick up our story. Right now, they just read the press releases back at us. I emailed the TV stations and two dozen papers, and nobody picked it up.  I contacted some people over and NYN but they have been silent.  There's probably a Fed in every NYN building waiting for us now.  I've emailed a few news groups but the posts disapear as quick as they appear.",  Mark looked lost in thought, staring at the floor.

"I think they chose not to cover it.",  Kento looked at Joe, "We sent WBLA a picture of Mark with the newspaper yesterday.  What do they expect from wanted men?"

"It's pretty unbelivable.", Joe said, "We must sound nuts."

"It's not like they can confirm anything with MIR.", Kento echoed, "Maybe I can convince one of the forign researchers to go to their press with the nanites."

"Don't do that, the world needs them.  Even if they don't get in any trouble themselves, MIR may figure out that you sent out all those nanites.  You can forget about anything getting cured then.", Mark trailed off.

The group was quiet.

Joe asked Kento, "Where are we meeting Shotgun?"

Mark cut him off yelling, "I've got it!"

"Shhhhhh", Kento and Joe both hushed Mark.

"Got what?", Joe asked.

"Joe I need you to tell your story one last time.  Mark put his clarks on, and looked around.  "Stand over there by that empty wall."

"What have you got in mind?", Kento asked.

"I bet you a hundred bucks Lucy will be free in a week.", Mark smiled smugly.

"I think I have ten bucks.", Joe shook his head.

"You haven't opened that package Lucy left for you yet.", Mark grinned.

"You did?"

Joe was sure Mark's curiosity would be the death of him.
\chapter{}
Kento walked up beside Mark.  His shadow blocked the light from the colorful sunset outside.

Mark didn't look up.

"I have a confession to make.", Kento's voice sounded strained. "I am weak.", Kento spoke sheepishly as Mark stuffed some clothes into a think plastic bag.

Mark looked up.  He couldn't imagine what Kento was going to confess to him. "You are everything I'm not", Mark smiled, "Disciplined, balanced, motivated."

"I'm claustrophobic.", Kento hung his head.

"Claustrophobic.", Mark continued.

"I don't think I can get in the trunk.", Kento said eyes darting side to side.

"Did you wait until Joe went to bathroom?", Mark asked amused.

"I don't think he can handle this.  He's very angry right now."

"Not at you.", Mark scoffed.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

The toilet flushed, and Joe emerged looking grim.

Mark shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey you ready Joe?", Mark asked  

"Yea sure.  Your jeans don't fit right.", Joe grumbled, tightening his belt.

Mark turned to Kento and smiled.

Kento's eyes grew wide.

"Kento would you ride shotgun.  My uncle's friend is in denial about his eyes.  He might not make a good lookout."

Kento paused, "Sure. It should be hard to recognize me with that photo circulating."

Mark turned to Joe, "Is Kento really a blond?"

Joe shook his head yes. 

"You're Jewish?", Mark was smirking.

"My grandfather, if I'm anything I'm a Taoist."

Kento is starting to make more sense, Mark thought.

Joe finished strapping on his arm computer.  He picked up a laptop in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other.  He checked his head for his Clarks.  

"I'm ready", Joe announced.

"Hold on.", Mark lowered his clarks over his eyes.  He logged into Kento's cluster and checked on his hard drive scrubbing routine.  It was on it's third pass.  Mark checked the wireless network between their three arm computers and their three laptops.

"Kento, turn your computer on."

Kento grabbed his streamlined armband off the counter and tapped it's readout.

A red light blipped to yellow and then green in a sea of lights and numbers in Mark's clarks.

Mark pushed the clarks on top of his head.

Kento was strapping a sword to his back.

"You're not going to bring that are you?", Mark asked, "Not exactly subtle."

Joe grinned a crooked grin.

"If someone sees me, it will because I wanted them too.", Kento was deadpan serious.

"OK, ok.", Mark butted out.

Mark grabbed his backpack and shopping bag.

"Joe, how are you feeling.  Is the new batch OK?", Kento turned to Joe.

"Much better, now that I'm fixed up.", Joe didn't smile.

Mark felt a chill run down his spine, Joe sounded just like a junkie.  I'm sure he's kidding, Mark thought.

Kento pulled an envelope from his pocket and taped it to a blank wall with a note.  It read, "Outstanding Rent. Thank you.  Sorry for the trouble."

Mark sighed.

"Let's do it.", Joe scowled.

The trio left the apartment and walked downstairs.  Mark was relieved when they didn't see anyone in the stairwell.  They walked to the back of the building through a sixties style hallway.  Mark was thankful for it's state of disrepair.  The lowest wattage bulbs were used to hide the broken tiles and stained walls.

A couple of people passed by as they waited in the shadows by the back door for their black towncar.  Nobody turned to get a second look.  Mark hoped that meant they were scott free so to speak.  Mark smiled at the joke in his head.

The car pulled up in the back parking lot under a broken light.  He flashed his headlights twice in the twilight.  The group swiftly walked out in the parking lot.  Kento got in the front seat while Joe and Mark climbed in the popped trunk.  They pulled the trunk closed on top of them.

"Hey there is a glow in the dark handle, cool.", Mark thought out loud in the blackness.

The car started to move.

Joe, broke the silence, "What's the plan."

"Oh right you fell asleep."

Mark realized that Joe might not be to proud of his mediocre health after he said it.  He put his hand on his forehead in the dark.

"We went over your video, from the coliseum and from your Dad's house."

"OK."

"It's actually pretty good.  We were able to stabilize the the bouncing from running alot.  That new new video autocrop thing is a lot better than the last version.  It doesn't seem to to cut out as much of the picture.  I think it does some kind of estimation for objects on the edge of the frames."

"Mark, the short version.", Joe cut him off.

Mark could make out Joe's features by the light from his clarks.  His eyebrows were raised.

"Right. Sorry.  A friend of mine is an engineer at NYN.  He used to work over at WBLA.  He's always complaining about how bad their security is.  So I wrote him and told him the whole story and showed him the videos."

"Oh.", Mark could hear Joe smiling.

"He was pretty pissed about how slanted their coverage has been.  So we talked about their security for a while, and he told me all their broadcast gear is HDTV now and their is some sort of flaw in the distributed filesystem authentication on their internal network."

Joe's dim face stared at Mark blankly.

"Distributed file system?  People use them for unusually large data that needs to be redundant fast and affordable?  That's where they store their movies?",  Mark sounded exasperated.

Recognition came to Joe's face, he nodded.

"They wrote it in house, but then they tried to write their own encryption algorithm for access to it or something dumb like that."

"Sounds dumb."

"That's not the half of it.  There wasn't enough time for me to learn the details so he agreed to break in for us and play the video."

"What did you offer him?", Joe inquired.

"Nothing he said it would be an honor.", Mark smiled.  

I've got great friends, Mark thought.

"So where are we going?"

"We need to break in through their wireless network.  I did a little digging, there are several open wireless points accessible in the park across the street.  I am going to bridge the Internet and your and Kento's laptops from there. Once I'm on I'm going to send him a few packets so he can find me and he's going to break in for us.  Apparently there is some sort of race condition if two access points are connected to simultaneously they allow access to the internal network."

Joe smiled devilishly, "You'd think they'd be more careful."

"He tried to explain it to his boss, but he didn't get it."

"So what do I do?", Joe inquired.

"Simple.  I've set up this laptop with two network cards.  One internal and one in the slot.  It has a login for Buddy."

Joe cut him off. "You're friends name is Buddy?"

"And?"

"You have a buddy named Buddy."

Mark stared blankly.

"OK.  Nevermind.  Go on."

"So the laptop has a local copy of some scripts to generate the attack and the movie of you explaining what happened."

"You're using that video you took?, Joe sounded surprised.

"What did you think we were going to do?"

"I looked terrible."

"You say you've been shot."

"I thought you were just using audio."

"Joe out of all of us you're the celebrity."

"I'm all pale."

"You're always pale. I'll tell them to skip Manhattan if you want.", Mark hoped Joe wasn't seriously upset.

The duo was silent.

Joe broke the silence, "So what do I do?"

Mark breathed again.

"Simple, carry the laptop to the middle of the ally we drop you in.  Move it around until the external network card glows green.  Then hide, put your clarks on and wait for the word that we are ready to roll."

"That's pretty easy."

"It's important, it needs to work.  Lucy and Dr. Graceland need us."

"Oh and Joe, make sure to grab the laptop on the way out.  These guys actually have a wardriving security team ready to go.  As soon as that video starts playing, they'll be looking to find it, and then Buddy."

Joe smiled.

They waited in the dark listening to noises all around them.  The pavement changed it's pitch as they rolled over the bridge.  The driver blew his horn a couple of times.  He locked the brakes up one of them.

Joe looked solemn.  At one point he picked up a spray can bonking him on the head and held it up to the light of his clarks.   Satisfied, he put it in his leather jacket.

What's that all about, Mark wondered.

The car came to an abrupt halt.  The trunk popped.  Joe followed Mark into the blinding artificial light.  Mark pointed toward an ally.  Joe flipped his clarks down and ran toward it with laptop in hand.  Mark ran toward the park across the street.  A quick glance around revealed two mounted police who seemed to have little interest in Mark.  Mark did notice a dozen triple six towncars idling around the WBLA building.

I wonder if my uncle sent all those cars here, Mark thought.

Mark found the park bench he was looking for.  It happened to be marked with a white "X"  He sat down and powered his laptop on.  Mark thought he saw the tip of a samurai sword and a sneaker fly down an ally when his eyes snapped back to the cab.

I guess he wanted me to see him, Mark thought sarcasticly.  Mark wondered how much of Kento was for real and how much was talk.
\chapter{}
Scott should have been fired, not promoted.  MIR should be under any of a dozen different lawyers and Scott should be sitting in front of a congressional committee.  Just sending that swat team to his fathers house in the middle of the night without confirming that Vallone was nanite free was gross incompetence.  

Nathan Jones was sneering.

Instead I'm in NY after the fact trying to clean up his mess.  At the least the joint chiefs should have seen his recklessness.  They should called up the Secretary Jackson and set him strait.  They should have dragged the president into the war room and not let him out until he saw the truth.  Joe Vallone is the most dangerous man alive.  He could melt people from the inside in minutes.  He could extract Uranium from seawater and enrich it or deplete it as he saw fit.  He could make Kevlar from dirt or turn every vehicle in this city into a time bomb that no one could hear tick.

Nathan stared at the Mayor's top aide, two police sargents, a lieutenant from the New York National Guard, an FBI rookie, and a couple of Hazmat guys.

The stupidity is boundless, Nathan thought.

"Council Jones?", A New York City Police Sergeant.

Nathan stared at the crowd milling about their makeshift command center and shook his head.  I always suspected, but now I know, Nathan thought.  Scott is not up for this job.  For something this important, it should never come down to luck.

"Do you think we should call it a night?", The first Hazmat officer asked, "We haven't slept in three nights and we can bearly stay awake."

Nathan ignored his question.

"So the forensics team ran the matter from the karate studio's toilet."

"Yes sir", the police Sargent, "No matches against the database so far.  Just the students we sampled."

"And none of the students ever saw a picture."

"No sir.", The young FBI man answered.

"How about the taxi?  Did anyone see what company it was?"

"No sir, a newish black towncar was the best description.", the second Sargent answered.

"Any luck with the dispatch interviews?", Nathan asked growing impatient.

"No, it may not even matter though, because it could have been a private vehicle.", the FBI rookie answered.

"When are we going to get some answers?  This is life and death.", Nathan's voice was a little hoarse.

"When are we going to get some answers.", the second Hazmat officer asked, "We don't have any information on the pathogens involved.  We might be able to trace some part of them."

"When it's cleared.", Nathan stalled.

"How can we prepare for an epidemic when you give us zero information?", the first Hazmat officer stood up and kicked his chair away.  "No specimens.  No background.  No models.  It could be the fucking rhino virus for all I know.  I'm beginning to think you made it up."

"It's very real.", Nathan stood up too.

The second Hazmat officer stood up, "Look, we honestly don't care how we get started since most vaccines take years to gear up production for, but common sense tells you that we at least need a quarantine and or an evacuation plan."

"We can't evacuate, the trail will go cold.  He'll get away.", Nathan sneered, "Then no one will be safe."

Years of practice only go so far.  Three days without more than an hour of sleep is too much.  Damn it Scott, I'm painted into a corner here, declassify something.  Nathan's rational thinking was breaking down.

The mayor's aide spoke up.  "Mr Jones, the Mayor concurs with Hazmat and the CDC, the trail has gone cold.  It's time for models."

"The CDC has no power here."

"No but they do have sense and experience.", the aide looked exasperated.

The door burst open.  A plain clothes detective looked around and reached for a remote control on the table.

Nathan lost his temper, "Who are you, get out!"

The detective glared at Nathan and turned a TV hanging from the wall on.

Joe Vallone was on the TV.  "car accident.  It should have killed me."

Holy shit.

"I'll have their license.  What station.",  Nathan stared at the detective.

"B.L.A."

"Call them.  Tell them to shut down."

"Off the air?", the mayor's aide asked, surprised.

"They were all told, no interviews."

Nathan felt like a cornered animal.  

"Where is it?", Council Jones was on the verge of panic.

"BLA's about 12 blocks north of here. On 41rst."

Nathan pointed at the first Sargent.  "You, give me a squad car now!"

The detective tossed him his keys, "You break it, you bought it."

"Which car?"  Nathan blurted out waiting by the door.  

The detective spoke slowly, "The brown Impala, it's out front."

Nathan was already out the door.  The mayor's aide and the second Sargeant followed his quick strides.

"Should I send any local cars there?", The officer huffed.

"No.  He might be there.  They're not ready.", Nathan growled practically running.

"How many officers should I send with you?", he inquired.

"As many as you can spare.", Nathan smiled.

"You realize he may not be there?  This may have been pre-recorded.", the mayors aide was keep stride.

"I'm not an idiot.  I know that.", Nathan snarled.

"Sidearm?", the chief offered his unholstered semi-automatic pistol.

Without thinking, Nathan turned it away.

The two men dropped off as Nathan picked up the pace.

Nathan broke into a full sprint down the stairs.  He heard several men running behind him.  I assume that they are coming too, Nathan thought.  I doubt they can keep up.

Nathan was a soldier again.  His vision began to tunnel as barreled down the six flights of stairs.  His blood was boiling.

Nathan burst through the front doors of the precinct and immediately spotted the brown undercover car.  He hit the remote start button on the keychain.  The car started and loudish mufflers let out a grumble.

He flung the door open put it in drive.  The door quickly closed itself as the tires squealed and then caught.  Nathan saw the confused laggards just finding the front door.

Weaklings.  No drive.

Nathan fumbled around for a siren first on the roof and then by the radio.  It squelched and started howling.

He yanked the cell phone out of his pocket, nearly throwing it across the car.  Nathan pulled a forty mile an hour power slide through a red light.  A women crossing the street dove for cover.

Nathan pushed a button on the phone.  "Conner, speaker." He yelled into it.

The phone rang out loud.  A voice mail in a women's voice picked up.  "You have reached the office of Scott Conner."

"Crap."

Nathan slammed on the brake.  The intersection ahead was blocked.

"Hangup" Nathan yelled.

The message stopped. 

Nobody was moving out of Nathan's way.  I hate New York, he thought.  Nathan spotted a single small car blocking a path trough a small park.  Nathan drove the Impala right up against it's bumper and pushed it's dismayed driver right out of the way.  It's brake lights were still glowing as he scraped past it.

Nathan pushed the button on his phone again as he sped down the dog walk in the little park.  

"Laurence, speaker.",  Nathan barked.

The phone rang once. "Hello Scott.", Council Laurence sounded serene.

"Call the FCC, shut down WBLA, now.", Nathan yelled over the sirens at the cell phone in his lap.

"Whats going on?", Laurence's voice cracked a little.

"They're interviewing Vallone right now."  The tires squealed as the Impala slid back onto the street.

"Oh shit."

"Send a decontamination team to WBLA on 41rst."

"How many?"

"Everyone!"

Nathan yelled, "Hangup" as he pummeled someone's grocery cart.

Nathan read the street sign.  37th, three more streets and you're mine sick man.

Nathan's car came to a screaming halt behind two other squad cars parked in front of the BLA building.

Four other officers were squatting behind their cars, guns drawn.  They look ridiculous Nathan thought.

Nathan introduced himself, "Nathan Jones, number two at MIR."  Nathan towered over the hiding men.

"We heard.", One crouching cop said.

"Come on, you wimps, he won't shoot you from the window.", Nathan mocked them.  He started walking toward the building.

"Sir he's not inside.  He's in the ally."

Got him.

"You didn't engage him", Nathan breathed deeply.

"No sir. He hasn't seen us yet." 

"You two go around the back, so he doesn't escape.", Nathan pointed the the two far officers, "You two with me."

Nathan jogged toward the ally with the two NYC cops in tow.  They rounded the corner and Nathan immediately recognized Vallone's silhouette.

Vallone was holding a wick lighter.  It was lit.  He tossed it to the ground and ran.

One of the cops yelled, "Freeze"

A three foot flame erupted from the ground.  Both cops hit the deck.  Nathan Jones flinched but new better.  He ran toward the flame.

"Sergio" was written in flames the width of the ally.

Vallone had already darted around the corner.

Nathan ran after him.  He rounded the corner and looked after Joe to the left, and then to the right.

Nathan felt himself break into a cold sweat as he ran around from car to car looking inside.  He was stopping black cars and yelling at their drivers.

The cops followed him from the ally and did the same.  No Vallone.

Nathen banged on the window of a towncar, "Did you see a man running?"

The middle eastern man started rolling down the window.  

"What is the big commotion.  He went that way.  He got in a cab."

Nathen saw a cab rounding the corner on the other side of the park.  He couldn't make out the plate, it was too far.

The far cops ran around the corner.  Nathan looked over at them and realized there were a hundred black livery cars in every direction.  And they were all driving away.

"Fuck!  I had him.", Nathan fell to his knees.

Nathen felt like crying.
\chapter{}
A couple seconds of static and a good picture with poor color flicked on interupting WBLAs current sitcom.  A pale and sickly Joe Vallone looked angry and frustrated. 

"Well here it goes."

"My name is Joe Vallone.  You might know me from Cyborg Wars on NYN.   Probably more recently from the supposed bio-terror attack.  I need you to know that not for me, but for my team owner and friend Lucy Kane.  I need you to know that for my Aunt Teressa, who's only crime was helping her sick nephew.  They have both completely disappeared since the so called attack.  Lucy did not even know the nanites existed."

Joe stared to the side of the camera for a second and nodded.

"This started three weeks ago when I was in a car accident.  It should have killed me.  I am a hemophiliac and was badly cut up.  I was an inch from death when I arrived at the hospital my aunt, Dr. Graceland works at.  To save my life she injected me with blood-borne nanites that she has been secretly helping MIR to develop.  They helped get extra oxygen to my brain while my body repaired itself."

Joe swallowed.  He lifted a piece of notebook paper into view and started reading.

"That is where her part ended.  Mark and I started fiddling with nanites we extracted from my blood.  We got them to reproduce.  We injected me with them to test them."

"Nanites may be illegal, but they are real now.  MIR has been lying."

The video cut from Joe to a recording from Joe's clarks at the Olympic trials.

"Here is what you didn't see from the "terrorist" attack at the Olympic trials.  I was looking for a terrorist myself.  I believed Marks Iranian cousin Aman, may have planned on attacking the trials."

The video showed Joe running jumping the railing and running from the guards drawn guns.  He clearly outran the athletes on the track.

"That same night, I went to see my father."

The video cut to Joe hiding in the shrubs at his fathers house.

"MIR had told the police I was armed and dangerous.",  Joe's tone changed, "My father was drunk and was shot down for having a bottle in his hand."

The video clearly showed the roadblock from Joe's view and the front door opening.

Just then WBLA clicked off the air.
\chapter{}
Skyler puffed on his cigar to keep from gritting his teeth.  The cold grave he was sitting on was starting to tire him out.  A light coat of snow covered the small bear trees scattered throughout the Kingsland Cemetery.

I should have left my treestand and cammo here on my last run.  I'd be lounging in comfort from the woods.  Skyler looked back longingly at the tree line behind him.

Skyler Truman stood up and held his rifle in front of him and scanned for traffic thought it's magnified scope.  He instinctively thumbed the safety as he trained the gun on a passing truck.

No A Team.  Just another rig.

Frustrated, Skyler sat back down on his grave.  He was hidden from the view of the road by a mausoleum.

We going to miss our window, and then things are going to get weird.  We've got three more hours tops.

Skyler racked his brain to come up with a viable plan C.  His thoughts returned to longing for his hunting camouflage.

Who am I kidding, Skyler thought, I'd be asleep up in the tree.

The radio on his hip squelched lightly.  A woman's voice with a southern accent echoed softly. "SG you there?"  

Skyler unhooked it from his belt and tapped the button.

"No CB, I'm asleep in a tree.", Skyler retorted.

"You're going to miss your window.", the women's voice was a little sarcastic.

"I know what I'm doing.", Skyler replied.

The radio was silent for a few seconds.  Skyler stared at field of snow covered graves some of them more than a hundred years old.  Skyler thought about the many enemies of the United States he had dispatched with machine like precision.   A cold breeze sent a shiver down his spine.

"Maybe I don't know exactly what I'm doing.  The TV?  Maybe they're not ritious, just dumb.", Skyler said sheepishly.  Skyler wondered if he was being vauge enough even fortheir illigitimate frequency.

"You're doing fine hunny bunny.", The women's voice, "You know the right thing when you see it.  If anything they made it easier for you.  You're not the only suspicious one now." the woman replied.

"Yea right.  People could care less.", Skyler replied, "I'm watching for the eagle, you'll see him when he lands."

"Everybody uses that for everything.", the woman replied.

"Exactly.", Skyler grinned.

Skyler clipped the radio back on his belt, and lifted the shogun to scan another passing truck.

It was a cop car.

What would a cop be doing all the way out here.  You'd be lucky to get one in a half hour if you called them.  Relax Skyler, he thought.  Somebody must have started a brawl at the bar.  He unclipped the radio from his belt.

"CB, you there?"

"I'm here sugar."

"What's doing at the hornets nest."

"They seem pretty calm, a little ruckus out front, nothing new.",

"A big TY."

"I love you SG.", the woman purred.

"I love you CB.", Skyler replied.

Skyler clipped the radio back on his belt, and lifted the long rifle to scan another passing truck.

A new set of headlights crested the distant ridge.  Skyler stood up and scanned the road through his sight.

It was a black Lincoln Town car.  That has got to be them.  Nobody up here has that kind of money.

Skyler watched as the Lincoln suddenly slowed down by the side of the road.  They must have just realized they were here.  The trunk popped and Joe and Mark climbed out, small bags in tow.  A third man got of the passenger side door.  Robert's face became clear as he trotted around the car.  Skyler watched as he slung his sword across his back.

The rifle's sight trained on the horizon again.  No trucks yet.

Robert tugged Joe's jacket an the two of them started walking quickly toward the middle graveyard.  Skyler noticed the light shadows from their footprints in the moonlight.

No clouds, fucking snow and their all wearing dark colors,  Skyler thought.  I'd pay fifty grand for light fog.  If we're interrupted, I'm going to have start shooting people or leave them here.

Skyler growled under his breath and resisted the urge to flick off the safety.

Skyler trained back on Mark and the Towncar.  Come on dummy, he thought, you're in the open.

Mark shook the drivers hand and started jogging toward the others.

Not up the middle, this is all wrong.

Skyler's radio squelched.  

"SG, baby, the exterminator has come and gone, he's headed your way."

Oh crap.

Skyler glanced at the not so distant tree break on the west side of the highway.  He saw headlights reflecting off the furthest trees.

Not just headlights, sirens.  We' ve got ten seconds, he thought. 

Skyler scanned over to the taxi.  He was just finishing a three point turn and beginning to accelerate east.

Skyler pointed his sight toward the boys. They weren't walking fast anymore.  They were casually reading gravestones as they strolled along.

I told them the back of the graveyard.  So much for the plan.

Skyler stepped out from behind the mausoleum.  The boys didn't see him.

How do they not see me?

I have no choice.  Skyler yelled to them.

"Hit the dirt, five oh.", His voice echoed across the graveyard.

Joe immediately jumped to the ground.  Robert dragged a confused looking Mark to the ground behind a small grave.

"Baby you read me?", The women's voice resonated.

Skyler crouched down behind the mausoleum again and watched the cop whiz by with his lights on.  He saw on coming headlights as the cop disappeared.

He scanned the boy's positions and saw Mark start to get up.

"Wait!", Skyler yelled.

A truck approached and zipped by going the other direction.

Skyler crouched next to the edifce, and scanned the both the east and the west though his sight.  Satisfied he stood up.

"Get up and get back here now."

He saw them get up and start trotting.

"Run, this ain't no game."

They broke into a sprint.

Satisfied, Skyler unclipped his radio.

"The eagle has landed."

"I was wondering.", the woman answered.

The trio ran up to Skyler and he waved them behind the Mausoleum.  Skyler towered over them.  Their light urban jackets and smaller shoulders made them seem small compared to Skyler in his quilted nylon winter coat.  Mark was panting.

"So glad you could make it.", Skyler smiled and shook their hands.

"Thank you.", they all said in turn.

"Not a big one.", Skyler lied.

"What's that for.",  Mark pointed to the rifle placed on the mausoleum's ledge.

"That's the best pair of binoculars I own.", Skyler lied again.

"Nice belt.", Joe grumbled.  He pointed to the shinny cross on Skyler's belt buckle.

"Thank you, it's my second favorite.", Skyler smiled.

"You a Christian?", Joe inquired.

The smile dropped off Skyler's face.

"Why you asking?", Skyler looked mean.

Joe looked a little scared.  "Sorry, it doesn't matter."

Skyler looked Joe's face and realized he had caught him completely off guard.  Skyler's anger drained away.

Skyler replied, "Sorry. It's just every time somebody wants to know what I think about God, they're trying to tell me what God thinks.  They don't know of course, they're just trying to manipulate me."

"We wouldn't dream of it.", Mark smiled nervously.

Skyler thought about who he was talking to.  Scared kids make mistakes, I had better calm them down.

"Let's go.", Skyler said, trying to beat back the awkward silence.

He started walking into the woods perpendicular to the road, the boys followed sheepishly.

"I was a Baptist, but I'm not sure what I am now.  I can't imagine they'd take me back.", Skyler continued the conversation.

"Why not?", Joe inquired still hesitant.

"Cause I don't take no shit.", the trucker grinned.  Skyler ducked and pushed some small branches out off his red curly hair.

"How about you Joe?  You're Italian right?  So you're probably Catholic.", Skyler stomped some low brush.

"No, not really.", Joe replied.

"Catholic?"

"No, Italian. If I was Italian, I could run to Italy.  They might have stuck up for my dad, but not me.", Joe paused, "Like it or not I'm American."  Joe gritted his teeth.

"I know the feeling.", Skyler nodded.

The group of four where silent except for the snapping of twigs and crunching of snow as they walked.  Joe and Mark were shivering and Robert was a little blue.  They approached a lit clearing which turned out to be a large parking lot.  There were dozens of eighteen wheelers and truck cabs parked behind a homey looking bar.

Skyler motioned down with a flat hand, palm down.  They got the message and kept low.  Skyler's truck pulled up in front of them blocking the view of the parking lot.  They climbed the chrome monogrammed step into the near white cab.  Skyler tossed his cigar in the snow as he climbed aboard. 

A black woman with long wavy hair sat in the drivers seat.  She was wearing a T shirt and shorts and nothing else it seemed.  Mark immediately started staring at her protruding breasts.  Robert tapped his shoulder and gave him a look.

She smiled a wicked smile.  Skyler guessed she might have giggled had she been just a bit younger.

"That's OK Robert, he can't help looking.", Skyler into his wife's eyes, "I tried to come as close as humanly possible to the girl on the mudflaps."

"Oh stop it, Skyler.", She clearly didn't really want him to.

Skyler patted Mark on the back hard enough to make his head shake.  He hung his rifle on a rack with two shotguns.

"Boys, meet my wife, Anna Belle Truman."

"It's a pleasure.", Robert held out his hand.  Anna Belle shook it.

"Hi.", Joe shook her hand as well.

Joe is a man of many words, Skyler smiled.

"Hello.  Nice to meet you.", Mark said still wavering a little.

"We love your show", Anna Belle said to Mark with extra twang.  "What part of the cyborgs do you build?"

"The control sisters", Mark stuttered, "I mean systems."

"So you're a computer geek?", she asked.

"Yes, and an outlaw.", Mark smiled.

Joe laughed out loud.

"OK all you folks get to the back, we've got a schedule to keep if we want to actually get you boys across the border."

Skyler smacked Anna Belle's butt as she climbed into the back part of the cab.  She knew exactly what Mark did, she was playing with him.  He shook his head and smiled.

"CB, did you switch the crystal back?", Skyler called behind the curtain seperating the front and the back of the cab.

"No baby, I was sleeping in the back.", She taunted Skyler.

Skyler pressed a button and picked up the receiver on the CB radio.

"SGT calling Little Fish over.", Skyler shifted the truck into first as he talked.

The radio was silent for a few seconds.

"Hey SGT, it's Little Fish."

"Get ready for us, cause we're a commin."

"That's a ten four."
\chapter{}
The truck had made a left two rights and another left.  Kento tried to imagine a map of upstate NY.  It was getting light out now, and sunrise was about thirty minutes later here this time of year.  Driving at sixty miles an hour on the most direct route, we would of passed the border into Canada by now.  We must be traveling parallel to the border, Kento thought, or we could be driving back to the city for all I know.

Kento wished he could have peaked though the curtain to see what road they were on.  Instead he was sitting on a bench facing the back of the truck in the corner of the rear compartment.

Joe was snoozing on the upper bunk in the back of the cab. Mark absent mindedly typed in the air as he stared longingly through his translucent clarks at Skyler's wife on the other side of their shared bunk.  Kento wondered if he had ever seen a woman before, well before Lucy that is.  In any case Mark had made up his mind he likes them.

Skyler's wife watched a movie on the cab wall with headphones, about an abused child coming of age.  Kento didn't recall the title.

Skyler pulled the curtain back and talked into the back, "OK we're going to be there in about five minutes.", he turned to look at the road and turned back again, "What ever you need to do so you don't need to breath, you had better start it up."

Mark immediately started rummaging through his bag.

"Skyler, what are you talking about?", Kento slurred a little from exhaustion.

"Mark said the nanites meant you could be sealed up tight.  You don't need to breath for a while.", Skyler turned his head, "So we're going to smuggle you out all sealed up in some drums."

The back of the truck started spinning, Kento thought he might vomit.

"I wasn't sure what I would be hauling, so this was the only way I knew would work."

Kento held onto a handle bolted to the wall of the cab.  Kento imagined the lid being closed on top of him sealing him in a drum.  His heart was pounding.  Kento managed to lift his head and look at Mark.

Mark shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, "I didn't know.", while shaking his head.

Kento put his fist over his mouth to try to hide his heavy breathing.

Shotgun hit the brakes as the truck bumped over a small curb.  They were obviously here.  

Maybe I can cross on foot, Kento thought to himself.  I'm sure I'm tough enough.  I'd need to get Skyler to lend me that puffy jacket though.  It's too cold out.

"So where are we?", Kento asked voice wavering.

"We're here.", Skyler answered smugly.

Can I ask again without seeming desperate, Kento wondered.

Joe's head craned down from the top bunk.

Mark pulled three large needles from a protective case.  They were already prepared with nanite solution.

Mark talked as he worked, "We'll need about twenty minutes of fresh air to get these guys to 100 percent, barring physical exertion."

He looked right at Kento as he spoke.

Mark depressed the plunger on a needle labeled "me" and flicked it to get a small bubble out.  He plunged it into his own arm.

Mark talked as he injected himself, "I'm not certain I've set them correctly for out blood types, immune system profile, etc, there is a chance Kento or I could have bad reaction.  If our vitals get to bad I've written a simple program that will randomly change a factor per nanite every ten minutes.  This is combined with a simple proximity election system where unmolested nanites advertise their configuration."

"That sounds crazy.", Joe had bags under his eyes.

"It will avoid certain death.", Mark smiled.

Kento could barely follow the conversation.  I thought those nanites were for emergencies, he thought.  Kento felt his eyes cross a little.

"Replacing it with what?" Skyler poked his head in the back.

"Potential death?", Mark smiled more weakly.

Everybody stared at Mark.

"Great.", Joe jumped down from the top bunk and held out his arm.

"When you are dead.", Joe looked at Mark and Kento, "Will they know me at the school?"

"We won't be dead.  We are all networked together.  I'll be watching your vitals and Kento's.  You be watching mine and Kento's and Kento will be watching ours."

I won't be watching anything after you seal me up in a tuna can, Kento struggled to act rationally.  I'm not going to die.  I'm not going to die.  I'm going to live.  I can't act weak.

"OK Kento, give me your arm.", Mark said paternally.

Kento extended his arm so Mark could inject him.

Mark put a cotton ball in Kento's left hand and placed the arm on his right hand.

Kento felt like he was swimming in fear.

"Coast is clear", Skyler waved them into the sunless dawn.

The three young men trotted through the cold up a ramp next the loading dock Skyler had backed up to.  A lanky Native American in a flannel and a baseball cap greeted them.

"Hi, I'm little fish."

Skyler walked in a moment later.

"Guys this is little fish.  The most trusting man alive.", Skyler smiled a gigantic smile.

"You don't need to advertise it.", Little fish grinned.

"I'm going to unload the truck."

"We've got a half an hour.", Little Fish looked at his watch.

"At least an hour.", Skyler smiled.

Kento saw a rolling chair near a desk by the entrance.  He grabbed it and sat down before he fell down.

"Make yourself at home.", Little Fish raised his eyebrows.  He was standing over Kento.

Skyler zoomed around in the background driving a tiny forklift.  He looked far to big for it.

"He may not be well, we just injected him with nanites.",  Mark seemed to cover for Kento.

"That's right, you guys are some kind of terrorists."

"If you count curing cancer and aids as treason then yes.", Joe spoke with authority.

"Well technically.", Mark started to correct Joe.

Joe shot Mark a look that could kill.

Little fish saw Joe's look and asked, "Why would they do that?"

"They're to lazy to do more security work.", Joe words rung out with anger.

"So they are to lazy to secure the cure for cancer?", Little Fish frowned.

"Or incompetent.", Joe growled.

"Hmmm, government lazy and incompetent.", Little fish paused thinking, "I'll buy that."  He smiled.

"Hey were are the pallets.",  Skyler's voice yelled to Little Fish from behind a wall of boxes.

"On the side.", He started walking to Shotgun.

Mark came over to Kento offering him a hand up.  Kento took it.  They all followed Little Fish.

Kento felt his heart pound harder with every step.

When they got to the pallets.  Kento nearly fell over, catching himself on the nearest skiff.

"I'd better check his vitals.", Joe flipped his Clarks down off his head.

"No he's fine I just checked him.", Mark covered for Kento again.

Joe looked at pallets stacked with looseleaf paper and pens.

"Where?", Joe asked simply.

Little fish pointed at the top.  Joe climbed up and winced when leaned on his bad arm.At the top, Joe's frown changed to a smile of recognition.

"It's a big drum in the middle.", Joe said finally.

Mark flipped his Clarks down on his head.  And typed in the air. 

"We've got to wait about ten more minutes.  We're just about at fifty percent."

I'm not going to last that long, Kento thought.

"Did I hear you say you're networked?"  Skyler asked.

"Yea.", Joe replied.

"You have to shut it off.  They scan for radio signals at the border encrypted or not, for bombs and the like."

"Can we just pull the drums shut when we get there?  We need to watch Kento.", Mark said.

"Nope.  Sometimes they have dogs.  We've got to seal you up here.", Skyler looked at Mark.

"Look at him.", Joe pointed at Kento, "He's a mess, he could die."

"Look twenty five minutes after the truck leaves the bay, we'll be at the border.  When you feel me jerk the brakes three times shut em off."

"OK.", Joe seemed satisfied.

Little fish and Skyler walked to the back of the warehouse, discussing some drunken exploits at someplace called Horny Henry's.

Joe wandered off toward a very cold looking bathroom.

"Mark, I can't handle it.", Kento looked unraveled.

"We don't have a choice.", Mark frowned.

"I do.  I'm going to pass out once I'm in there.  I know how to force myself.", Kento eyes were wide.

"I understand.  Don't worry I won't think you dead."

"What about Joe?", Kento asked.  

Mark smiled, "I wrote the program, he'll see what I want him to see."

"Thank you.", Kento wheezed.

It felt like a year as Kento waited in silence for the most terrifying experience of his life.  He imagined himself restrained and suffocating when he closed his eyes.  Instead he stared blankly at the pallets barely able to stand.  Kento stopped himself from hyperventilating several times.

"OK we have to go now.", Skyler yelled as he strode up.

"Eighty eight percent on Kento."

"It will have to do.", Skyler was approaching fast.

The room started to spin again.

Mark and Joe climbed up on the pallets and stood up in their drums, bags in hand.

Kento just watched.

"Hey this is bigger than I imagined", Mark said probably trying to help Kento.  

"Those are one hundred ten gallon drums.", Little Fish said, "Useless for anything but terrorists and toxic waste."

"I kinda like it.", Joe smiled darkly.

Kento hung to every word.

Everybody was looking at Kento's pale shaking form.  

I have to do this, Kento thought to himself.  He climbed up the pallet backwards and stood up tall in the center of the large drum.  He looked around at the perplexed audience.

"OK down you go.", Skyler went to close Kento's lid first.

Kento felt like a cornered dog.  He found himself rearing around to punch Skyler but redirected the swing to the inside of the drum at the last second.  Kento winced at the loud thud.  His legs gave and he fell over backwards as the lid came down, eclipsing the florecent light from the warehouse.  Kento wanted to scream but instead bit down on his hand.  He tasted blood as the rapid breaths left him.  He bearly saw the inside of the barrel go dark.
\chapter{}
Terror. 
 
Skyler could not let these kids get caught.  I don't want to kill a bunch of border guards either.  He pulled a handgun out from under his seat and tucked it in the back of his pants and pulled his shirt over it.  Skyler squinted to blur the empty road.  White snowy trees blurred into streaking lines in the light of the early dawn.

Shotgun recognized the last Billboard before their border.  He gave the brakes three distinct pushes.

OK here we go.

Anna Belle looked as Skyler.  "You OK SG?  You look a little worried."

"We've never done this before.  Who knows what we didn't think of."

"We smuggled this way before.", Anna Belle looked serious and ten years older.

"Yea, heart medicine.", Skyler shook his head, "A few less consequences if we got caught."

"CG, you didn't read that link I sent you did you?", Mrs Truman asked rhetorically, "Unless they execute you, you would have spent longer in jail for the cloned pills."

Skyler smiled a crooked smile, "Unless they execute me."

Skyler slowly steered the truck to the commercial side of the border guard house.  Skyler lined his window up perfectly with the shivering guard.  He handed him some papers.

The guard rubbed his gloved hands as he read the crinkled paper.   "You're a couple of hours late."

"I had a few drinks down at Horny Harry's, I needed to sleep it off.", Skyler felt his heart beating faster as he lied.

The guard typed at his computer terminal in a small booth.  He watched the screen for a minute and shook his head.

"Well, now your going to run even later. Your numbers up.", a second guard walked up on the passengers side.  Hand on his holstered gun.

"Please step out of the truck slowly."

Skyler felt fear wash over him.  I know these guys, I don't want to have to hurt them, he thought.

Skyler opened the door and pulled his jacket on as he stepped down.

"Does my wife have to get dressed.", Skyler asked shrugging his shoulders.

The guard looked at Skyler's T-shirt clad wife in the passenger seat.

"No, I think you'll do.", he smiled.

Good, I still have control of the situation.

"OK, we need you to open the trailer up for us."

Uh oh that's not routine.  Skyler thought of the Monopoly "go to jail" card.  "Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Really, do we need too?"

"Sorry Skyler, the alert level was raised."

Skyler walked to the back of the truck.

I hope Anna Belle is watching, he thought.

Skyler unlocked the back swinging doors and opened them, revealing the line of pallets within.

Skyler felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as a third officer emerged from the glare of the morning sunrise.  He was walking a German Shepard.  He resisted the urge to pull his handgun.

Skyler couldn't see Anna Belle, but he knew she was ready now too.

Skyler looked on as the dog hopped up inside the trailer, and began sniffing around the pallets.  Skyler's chest heaved as he tried to look bored and sleepy.

The dog paused on Joe's pallet and squeaked a little but kept searching.

Skyler prayed the dog was not tired.  If he sat down, people would die today.

When the dog reached the back of the trailer, his officer turned around and lead him back out by the short leash.  I must have have passed, Shotgun thought.

"OK Skyler, sorry about that.  Just sign here and we'll see you again soon."

Shotgun's hand shook as he leaned down and signed the clipboard.  He was grateful for the cold, it hid his fear well.
\chapter{}
"Council Frank, do you think your needs supersede the interests of the United States Government?"  The judge looked annoyed.  

"Not his, Dr. Teressa Graceland's.", Lucy yelled out.  She looked furious.

"Lucy be quiet, it's not your turn to speak.", Lucy's lawyer Lewis Frank turned to her.

The judge spoke, "You would be wise to listen to your lawyer.  Unless you want to donate your bail money to New York state."

"Your honor, I think what she is trying to say is while I have been retained by Miss Jones, I am not acting as her lawyer, but as Teressa Graceland's."

"Well you should tell your client that some very important people need to speak to her, and she should turn herself into the nearest police precinct immediately."

"That's the problem, your honor.  We don't know where she is." 

"It sounds like we agree."

"We have reason to believe she is being held in violation of her rights at a prison normally reserved for enemy combatants."

"Those are serious accusations, being levied,", the judge paused, "Being levied against somebody somewhere."

A few people in the back of the packed courtroom chuckled.

"Except for the police report that says ten NYC police officers where assigned to a special task force that participated in a raid a week ago, and were indeed witnessed apprehending her.",  Council Lewis pulled a paper out of his briefcase.

The judge waved him up to her bench.

Frank Lewis walked the paper up to her.

The judge scanned the paper.  "OK so the precinct should be able to tell you who has custody of Dr Graceland."

"They deny having arrested her.  According to staff Sargent Tollhouse the police there were just serving as bodyguards for federal agents making the arrests.", Frank Lewis looked stern.  The report listed three FBI agents by name and two unamed MIR lawyers."

"I see that.", the judge was reading more carefully now, "So did you contact the FBI officers?  They must have performed the arrest."

"Yes I did your honor, but all three deny performing the arrest."

"Really do you have that in writing?"

"No.  I was told I will get it in the mail in two days.  That was five days ago."

"This is pretty serious council Frank, but I have one question for you.", the judge pulled her reading glasses off, "Why me?"

The courtroom laughed again.

"If any charges were actually brought, against Teressa Graceland, she would have been charged in this Federal circuit.  Likewise any kidnapping case would be tried here as well."

"Why do you think she is in a military prison?"

"At great personal expense Lucy Kane obtained the flight plan of the private plane that the unnamed MIR lawyers used.  She originally received a bogus flight plan which did not check out at the destination.  Only by offering to pay an anonymous airport official did she get the real plan.", Lewis Kane pulled another paper out of his briefcase, "The plane's next stop was Cuba."

Council Frank brought the new papers to the judges bench.

"I think I see where you are going with this.", the judge put her glasses back on and squinted at the paper.

Members of the press were scribbling furiously in the benches.

"This court orders staff Sargent Tollhouse to appear Monday.  We are adjourned until then"

Lucy grinned.
\chapter{}
When Aman opened his eyes, a dark figure in robes towered over Aman.  Aman couldn't make out his face in the dim light.  

"You know the woman doctor was here for a day.", the man's voice was calm and confident.  He had a middle eastern accent, possibly Iranian.

Aman braced himself for a fight.  In a weeks time, he had only seen guards, soldiers and lawyers.  Something wasn't right.  How did he get here.

"For one day she was just like us.  She ate the food.  She breathed the foul air.  She slept on the urine soaked bedding we sleep on.  For a day she led the life of a noble man."

"Who are you?", Aman inquired.  He slowly extended his legs across the cot to the wall of his prison cell.  He felt his muscles tense as his feet found the wall.

The man continued ignoring Aman's question.

"She has known privilege few women could know.  She wields power over men.  Not the nurturing love, but a commanding power."

Aman was in serious trouble.  He tried to keep a strait face,  but he could not sure his fear was not seeping through.

"Even the men you cower before ultimately bow to her will.  They answer to her whims.  They've already sent her back home.  She makes them dance as if they were puppets."

"Guard! Guard!", Aman would not live out his life here for murder, nor did he want to die.

"Islam demands you follow Allah's will, and not only do you not walk the path, you've stopped all others.  See what trusting the infidels does for you?   Where are you now?  Without God, who can save you?"

The man lunged at Aman.  He pulled a shank from his robes.

Aman grabbed the man's hand with both of his.  The larger man struggled to overpower Aman.  Realizing Aman was braced against the wall, he shifted around to lean over him.

Aman sensed his opportunity.  He lunged away from the wall with his legs easily clearing the narrow cot.  The man, clinging onto the shank, spun around and fell on top of him.

The six inch shank sunk deep into the man's stomach.  He screeched as he impaled himself.

Aman recognized the man from his meetings in Tehran.  He was an Iranian minister.  He must have heard the great betrayer was here, Aman thought.

Aman scowled and looked deep in the dying mans eyes, "You tell me you know the path?  Do you even know what a nanite is?  You have to comprehend Allah's will to serve it.  You serve only death."

Aman heard the guards coming now that a death cry echoed through the halls.  How convenient, he thought sarcastically.

"Infidel!  Traitor.", The man coughed in Farci spattering blood in Amans face.

"You betrayed Iran, Islam, and mankind Abdul.  Apocalypse was not yours to start."

Two guards pulled Abdul's bloody limp body off Aman.  Two more soldiers pulled Aman up on his feet and punched him in the stomach.

Aman tried not to laugh at the guards, he had endured much worse.  Abdul was right though, Aman thought as the guards dragged him off.  Holy men, politicians, even friends ultimately serve their own ends.  Only a family can share the kind of love that overcomes all.  

I hope Mark never regrets abandoning me, but I know he will.
\chapter{}
Joe's ears were hot.  He could feel the blood boiling under his skin.  Joe sneered as he rocked back and forth in his toxic waste tomb.  Joe held himself as he rocked, trying to soothe his rage.  Maybe it was the constant noise in his ears of the truck grinding over the decaying Canadian roads.  Maybe it was persistent vibration every time his head knocked into the inside wall of the barrel.

Maybe it was because it was his first time alone since his father had been murdered.

Those bastards.  First her and now him too, Joe thought.  Those bastards, I could have fixed it.  I could have talked with my sober father again.  I could have told him about how wrong it has all gone.  How much I love Lucy and Finny.  Maybe I would have forgiven him for loving my mothers sister.

Now I can't.  I can't strut around and pretend to be angry at him.  I can't tell him how much I miss mom.  They took that from me.  You only get one insane screwed up family and they took that from me.  You greedy, short sighted, power hungry monsters.  They were mine!

Joe wiped his nose with his hand and realized it was wet.  He hadn't even noticed he was crying.

Why did this happen to me?  Because I'm sick?  Because my body doesn't make some fucking protein?  Because I was curious about how a robot that was floating around in my own blood?  Because my aunt wanted to cure immune disease?  That bitch!

Joe kicked the inside of the barrel denting it slightly with a loud bong noise.  His shoulder throbbed with the movement.

I'll kill them.  I'll kill them all.  I don't care if I have to dedicate my whole life to it.  I'll do whatever it takes.  They killed my family.  They wrecked the A-team.  They took Lucy and any friends I knew from me.  They shot me.  They should have aimed for the head.  Big mistake.  

Joe stared wide eyed into the pitch black.
  
I'll be done when Nathan Jones, no wait, I can't die until Scott Conner is dead.  There can be no other, no greater purpose.  You can lie to everyone else, but not me.

You're either with me or against me, Joe thought.  

As Joe rocked himself, he felt himself choke.  I can't even go to his funeral, he thought.

"Oh God dad.", Joe moaned.

Joe sobbed and wept aloud.