The Sin and the Wicked Smile Book 2

continued from

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Book II

Vic looked at his reflection in the large window before him. His eyes were cold and tired now, not like they used to be. They were no longer strong and fascinated, but scarred and beaten down, pitiful to even glance at. They were a prisoner's eyes, a man who’s been punished for horrible things. With a deep, longing gaze he looked past his haunting reflection to see hundreds of tiny glowing dots moving about. They were but insignificant yellow specks, lost souls trapped in some deep, dark infinity. He always liked to watch the Fighters being deployed, they were beautiful to him. Even though they were weapons and had the blood of millions on their hands, he felt they were elegant from afar. He knew each one stood over a hundred feet tall and was over a hundred thirty tons in weight, but he felt as if he could hold them all within the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, took a long sigh, then turned away from his reflection and his own personal stars. He returned to his world, to his tragedy, to his mistake. Deafening sirens filled his ears and red, flashing lights went on and off, filling the area around him with chaos. He slowly walked down a hallway, finding comfort in his thoughts. The few people that remained scurried around frantically, only adding to the chaos. He walked down a long, lonely corridor with the sirens wailing and the lights alternating between shades of red. When he came to the end of the corridor, the door marked F73 opened and he came to where it all happened. The beginning and the end both happened in the same room. The doors closed behind him and it became silent.

In the Supervisor’s chair, which was levitated to oversee the workers, there sat the Supervisor. His white lab coat was stained red and a blank stare was permanently written on his face. He was dead. Vic walked to a flickering TV screen, and staring past the three bullet holes in it, he saw the time in the bottom corner. It was 1:26 am. He sat down on a bloodstained chair before the sporadically flashing screen, then leaned back and watched. He shifted his position once, then twice. Finally he sighed, leaned forward and put his head in his hands. There is no comfortable position for the damned. On the half broken screen before him were images of the Fighters leaving the ship. Their humanesque bodies and metallic armor seemed to glow so angelically in the light from the ship’s engines.
“So it’s all over now,” Vic whispered to himself through his fingers, “may God have mercy on my soul for the sin I have unleashed.”




         Seven days earlier.

         DAY ONE


Vic ran quickly through a well-lit hallway, the fluorescent lights reflecting off his dark brown eyes. He hurried past people that held stacks of files in their hands, knocking some of them to the floor.
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, half stopping to pick up some of the mess.
He grabbed three files in hand, but in his enthusiastic haste he forgot to hand them to the people who he had bumped into. He power walked down the hallway, bothering more burdened personnel, all the while ignoring the angry cries of the others after their now stolen files.

Vic eventually arrived at a big metal door with F73 written on it in large bold lettering.
“Hey,” Vic called out, looking up at the Supervisor’s chair, “oh, I mean, hello officer.”
“Careful,” the Supervisor replied, “I’m the guy that hands out the promotions. What’s that in your hand?”
“Oh, nothing,” Vic tossed the files to the floor.

The Supervisor was a middle-aged man with graying brown hair. He wore a white lab coat and had three tubes connecting the back of his neck to the chair he floated on. Two of the tubes were filled with fluids moving in opposite directions and the other had dull colored wires in it. He sat on a large, red padded chair that floated without use of engine or mechanical device. There was a constant mixture of chemicals in the chair, which caused it to levitate to the Supervisor’s will.

“How’s my girl doing?” Vic asked, tapping his finger against a clear piece of glass.
The glass was part of a large water filled container and behind it rested a young, light skinned woman. She wore a skintight black, rubbery suit that covered her entire body up to her neck and was attached to several gray tubes. Her eyes were closed and she floated, peacefully asleep, her blonde hair gently swaying back and forth in the water as her arms hung limply.

“Oh, she’s fine, healthy as ever,” the Supervisor answered, looking down on Vic. “The schematics are all loaded into the files, you can check on them.”
“Thanks,” Vic replied, stepping a few feet left to look at a small computer screen built into the wall.

After a few seconds of looking at the files, Vic suddenly jumped away from the computer screen.

“There’s an abnormality here,” Vic cried.
“You’re kidding, there weren’t any warnings. Johnny!” The Supervisor roared as if it were a curse word, “get in here!”
Immediately a young man with scraggly dark hair emerged from behind a computer screen.
“You were the last person to monitor specimen 2, you didn’t tell me there were any abnormalities.” The Supervisor talked excessively loud when angered, replacing words with screams.
“Uh, that’s because there weren’t any, Mr. Supervisor.”
“Well,” The Supervisor began, “it seems we have a conflict of information.”
“But look at it,” Vic cried, “her heart rate’s up; for twenty seven seconds everything sped up, her breathing, her pulse, her muscles tightened, why wasn’t there a special report made?”
“It’s the computer’s fault, sir,” Johnny protested. “It only records changes that last for more than a minute.”
“God damn it, Johnny…” Vic ‘s entire body shook, “The computer can’t think for you, it’s only a tool. Why should we keep you if you let a computer do your job? Maybe we’d be better off sending you back to boot camp and letting the computer have your job! Huh, how would you like that!”
“No sir, I’m sorry sir.”
“Get out of my sight…”

Johnny quickly stumbled away and hid behind a computer, pretending to be busy.
“I’m working with an incompetent here,” Vic grumbled to the Supervisor.
“Take it easy, Vic. You know you didn’t have to threaten him with boot camp. We can’t still do that, can we?”
“They revoked that power three months ago. And yea, I didn’t have to, but you know how pissed I get when people don’t take care of my baby.”
“I know. Hey, speaking of babies, we’re looking to get another assistant.”
“What, really?”
“Yea, it seems the army has a surplus of men, and since there’s not much action out there, they’re putting them into medical and research programs.”
“Do I get to pick who?”
“Nope. They pick who goes where,” the Supervisor spoke, pointing upward with his index finger. “Supposed to be some fancy covert ops soldier though.”
“When can I meet him?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Great,” Vic said sarcastically.

Vic returned to his computer screen and the more he looked at it, the more grumbles and swears escaped him.

After his work had ended, Vic walked through the city inside the dome. He liked taking strolls through the city, looking out of the dome. He walked around, a content and fascinated expression upon his face. This was a direct contrast to the faces of the others who he shared the streets with. They had glum expressions, the kind worn by someone focused more on the destination than the trip. They walked, aggravated looks on their downcast faces, ignoring Vic as he looked up at the shimmering buildings and the clear dome above their heads. His fascination with the world seemed to hold no bounds; buildings that were routine for him to walk by still filled him with such awe and wonder. Vic still found the dome fascinating; in the back of his mind he still thanked whoever built the dome as it kept everyone from being sucked into outer space.

The largest part of the space station was the dome and inside laid the gorgeous city, unofficially named Emerald city. Its official name was Dome 381, a slightly less evocative title. The dome stretched over a mile across and about a quarter mile high. Inside was an unnaturally clean city that knew no up or down outside of its tiny little barrier. In sunlight, the city would sparkle, and in darkness, it would glow. The dome rested on a gray, metallic colored space station whose looks were quite the opposite of the crystal like city it carted around. A few gray landing strips extended out of the station, looking like antennae from an insect. The massive hull of the ship seemed to have the exact dimensions of the dome, except it was opaque and on the opposing side of the dome, almost a shadow of it.

The city seemed to be preserved in a jar so that future generations could look in admiration at its beauty, it almost seemed frozen, a city whose inhabitants were immobilized by ice. The ship that it rested upon, however, was like that of a trusty old fishing boat; its ability to function was far more important that its looks. Dirt and scars and sloppy construction jobs gave proof to the stations travels as well as its misfortunes. The city inside the glass was crammed full of a quarter million people, each with their own problems, ideas and activities, turning the dome into a living, breathing extension of the people that dwelt within it. Outside of the dome, Vic could see darkness, freckled with a few dots of light. How easy it was for the people to forget that all that lay between them and the infinitely cold reaches of space was a clear barrier of glass and plastic. He had even taken the time to name the barrier he so owed his existence to, and so chose the name for obvious reasons. Styx.

Vic lay awake in his warm bed as he stared up at his glass ceiling, which looked out into space. He stared into the void.
“I wonder if it’ll all work out, if she’ll be ok,” Vic asked himself just before going to sleep.















         DAY TWO


The next morning Vic arrived half an hour early, but his new assistant arrived even earlier. He walked in to find a medium sized young man with fiery red hair sitting at Vic’s desk.
“You must be Mr. Finch,” Vic droned, sleep still in his eyes.
“Yea, Belial Finch, that’s me. I’m afraid they didn’t tell me your name.”
“That’s because my name’s classified.”
“Classified?”
“Yea, you can just call me Vic.”
“What’s the point in classifying a name?”
“It’s the army’s policy, not mine. Ok, let’s get started, what do you say?”
“Sure.”
“There are three main areas. The area you’re in is the dining area. I assume you know what it’s used for.”
“Yes, sir,” he smiled.
He had a brazen posture and the slightest hint of an accent that was somewhat reminiscent of Louisiana.
“Over here,” Vic explained as he entered the next area, which was occupied by a large computer screen, “is the research area. You can find anything in this area, classified or not, it’s all here.”
“That’s pretty handy.”
“And last, but most certainly not least, is the lab.”
“I don’t see that,” Mr. Finch glanced around him.
“Follow me.”

Vic walked to the nearest wall, placed his hand against the slick white barrier, and a door opened in it.
“It’s inside,” Vic motioned. “You see the lab, much like the procedures done within it, are classified.”
“I think I’m going to be hearing that word a lot, classified…”
“More than you’d like, believe me.”

As soon as Mr. Finch walked inside, he stood in awe at the lab.
“What kind of stuff do you do in here?” he asked, looking around at the billion-dollar machinery.
“Mostly it’s weapon building, but occasionally, I get to build-
“We,” the Supervisor bellowed from above, scaring Mr. Finch, “remember there’s two of us.”
“Sorry, I didn’t see you up there,” Vic called out, “this is my Supervisor, his name is also classified.”
“So what do I call him?” Mr. Finch asked.
“You’ll address me as sir or Supervisor until I say so.” He lowered down to conversation level
“Ok, sir.”
“Scares pretty easy for a soldier, huh?” Vic whispered to the Supervisor.
“Absolutely…I love it.”
“Now, as I was saying,” Vic spoke loudly, “occasionally we… get to build something great. Let me show you my pride and joy.”

Vic led Mr. Finch into the lab, weaving in and out of white machinery that didn’t seem to have a particular purpose or function. In the center of the lab was the glass case, in which the woman rested peacefully.
“It’s…it’s a woman,” Mr. Finch stuttered.
“Yes, I- we… created her in this lab.”
“My God, she’s beautiful, she- she’s gorgeous... Wait, so you cloned her?”

Vic smiled pretentiously and just as he was about to give a response, Mr. Finch spoke.

“Don’t you question your morals in doing this? I mean cloning, for quite a while has been considered, well, evil. Plus it’s highly illegal.”
A smug grin appeared on Vic’s face again as he prepared to give a response.
“No, I don’t question my morals because there’s nothing evil or illegal in what I’m doing. In fact, what I’ve done is so new, they won’t even think about making a law concerning it for another hundred years. You see, I didn’t clone her DNA, I didn’t borrow genes and modify them like some of the other more primitive scientists. I designed her DNA from scratch. I designed every aspect of her, she is what I allowed her to be. I’m sort of like her father in that aspect.”
“But…that’s so much worse.”
“What?” Vic’s eyes narrowed on his new assistant.
“Well, yea, I mean cloning is bad because it’s stolen genes and a built in identity crisis. But Jesus Christ, with this- she won’t even have a soul man. She won’t be able to love you like a father or even understand what love is. Sure, she’ll be able to mimic that stuff, but she won’t feel it.”
“Get out.”
“What?” Mr. Finch cocked his head to the side, confused by Vic’s reaction.
“Get…the fuck out. It’s not wrong, I’m right. What I’m doing is right! So get the hell out!”

Vic’s entire body shook with anger and his breath became quick and furious. Mr. Finch gave Vic a long, confused look then slowly turned and walked away. And just before he reached the exit, he gave one last odd look back, then exited the lab.

“I see you’re making new friends already,” the Supervisor taunted.
“Not now…”

* * * * *

At the end of each hallway in the station was a transporter. It would take a person to any other building in the space station, transporting them in a grand flash of light. Vic walked hastily out of the transporter toward his apartment. He walked deep in thought, feeling a little guilty about yelling at his new assistant. He ignored the door that swung open for him as he mechanically entered. His apartment was many times the size of an average living space on the station. It was about 1500 square feet, but he never really used it all. He entered his room and plopped down onto his comfortable bed. Most people in the station preferred to sleep with what were called sleepers; tiny machines that fitted around the head like a nightcap, and just like an alarm clock, they could set the time of their sleep. Vic hated those; he hated falling asleep in seconds. He wanted to think as he slept, wanted to have a real sleep, not a machine induced one. And like he always did, he looked up at the stars as he lay in bed, this almost always put him to sleep. That night, just out of the corner of his window, he could see Earth.


































         DAY THREE


Vic walked down the long, metallic hallway on his way to the lab. As he walked, two hallways came together and there, in the other hallway, was Mr. Finch. The assistant immediately appeared anxious as he saw Vic.
“It’s ok,” Vic said took a deep breath, “I’m willing to forget what happened yesterday if you are, alright?”
“Yes, sir,” he responded mechanically, without thought or emotion.
“Ok, I’m sure we’re going to get along just fine.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We can begin where we left off yesterday.”
“Yes, sir.”

The two entered the lab together, an awkward silence between them.
“Alright, now where we left off yesterday…” Vic began, standing next to the peacefully sleeping woman. “This is the AX2 or Michelle as we call her. I wasn’t able to go into full detail about her earlier, so I’ll do that now. She is extraordinarily special. This technology is centuries ahead of its time. So… I don’t expect you to understand it all. But I’ll try and explain. To put it most basically, she can commandeer any computer. She can take control of something as simple as a clock to something as complex as a Fighter.”
“Ok.”
“Even further, she has telekinetic abilities; she doesn’t even have to speak to communicate. And something even more spectacular is that her body can reproduce itself, so if she gets a wound, she’ll heal herself. Anything from a scratch to a fatal wound will be healed almost instantaneously. She’s near invincible and will never age, so she’ll never die of old age.
“What do you mean near invincible?”
“Well, inside this container, she’s actually quite vulnerable. She is really still a fetus, and cannot heal herself; any damage sustained in this state will be permanent. But, once she is born, as you might say, she will be an immortal. She will not age, and any damage will be almost immediately healed.”
“But she must have some weakness, I mean everything has a weakness.”
“Well, it’s nothing more than rumor really, but supposedly there’s a certain chemical that can hinder her healing abilities. I’ve found no proof of its existence though.”
“What about if she’s in the center of the sun, nothing could survive that.”
“Oh, but she could. Energy can’t be destroyed, right?”
Mr. Finch nodded.
“Well, the only way to kill Michelle is to destroy 100% of her body so there’s nothing left to reproduce, but one of the cells in her body is pure energy. She’s as extinguishable as energy itself.”
“How were you able to do that?”
“You can do anything when you don’t listen to the critics.”
Mr. Finch nodded with a fascinated little smile. His attempt at the silent treatment was failing miserably.

“So... how does it work?” Mr. Finch asked, starting to show some interest.
“Well, first of all, don't call her it; she's a person, not a thing. And I’m afraid it’s a little too hard to explain.” Vic spoke as if he were instructing a child.
“Ok...” Mr. Finch played off Vic’s demeaning tone. “So, when do I start working?”
“I’m glad you asked. You’re new here, and I want you to learn all about the machinery, so I want you to clean it all.”
“Ok, I’ll start up the cleaning program.”
“No, you don’t understand, I want you to clean it by hand.”
“By hand!” Mr. Finch cried, a look of terror across his face.
“Yes, that’s how you grow to understand the machines, you get acquainted with them, you touch them, and the best way to do that is to clean them. The first day I got here, I cleaned the entire lab by hand.”
“But that’s so primitive, you might as well ask me to use a key board or- or use a big stick instead of a gun!”
“Careful,” the Supervisor calmly intervened, “we don’t keep people with attitudes.”
“What do you mean?” Mr. Finch asked nervously.
“What I mean,” the Supervisor began, “is that Vic, Johnny, or myself need only to give the word, a single complaint to the military, and you’ll be sent back to boot camp for two weeks, where you’ll be reassigned to a lower level position. And furthermore a permanent mark will be left on your record, labeling you as incompetent, restricting your right to vote, to own a weapon and to certain free speech rights, and even worse, you’ll be put on probation. Which means, you’ll never get to go on one of your hot shot soldier missions ever again. You’ll be stuck in a place like this for the rest of your military career.”

A look of frustration and helplessness came over Mr. Finch.
“But…you can’t…” he whimpered.
“Get cleaning,” Vic said, “you’ll find a rag and some cleaning materials in the dining area, in the cabinet under the counter.”
Mr. Finch walked away, his hands clenched in fists.

Vic was about to return to his duties when suddenly he heard the Supervisor call for him.
“Vic, come here, take a look at this!”
“What is it?”
“It’s Michelle…she’s, well, look at her!”
Vic quickly turned and nearly fainted at what he saw. Recovering from the surprise, he looked from the Supervisor’s smiling face to the flashing computer screen next to the glass casing to Michelle’s frightened blue eyes, nervously trying to look in every direction.
“She’s awake!” Vic yelled, “She’s awake!”
“We did it,” the Supervisor laughed proudly.

Suddenly Johnny, in the middle of a yawn walked into the room. He looked around confused as to why they were yelling.
“You’re late,” Vic cried to Johnny, running to him, hugging him and lifting him off his feet.

Vic quickly dropped Johnny and ran back to Michelle.
“She’s awake,” Johnny rejoiced, “look, look- she’s up!”
Michelle rubbed her tired eyes, blinking repeatedly, and with a scared, confused expression, looked through the thick glass at the three men who were in hysterics. Vic kneeled before her and placed his palm against the glass. A wide grin appeared on his face and his quickened breath created perspiration on the glass. Michelle looked deep into Vic’s eyes for a few seconds, judging them, searching them, then with little emotion in her face she placed her palm against the glass, opposite his.

“I’m opening the casing now,” the Supervisor said, pushing a few buttons on his floating chair.
Michelle immediately ducked back into the corner of her casing as the glass separating her from the outside world was lifted. Water poured out onto the lab, running past Vic, but he didn’t care. He stepped into the glass chamber, still knee deep with draining water, and waded through it as it pushed past him. He lowered down to his knees and held out his hand toward Michelle. She seemed frozen, like a cat backed into a corner. She stared at Vic, her muscles tense as steal. Slowly she reached out her hand, to meet Vic’s. She extended her fingers and Vic took hold of them. He wrapped his fingers around her tiny, wet hand, being very gentle not to hurt or scare her.
“Hello,” Vic smiled, his entire face alight with joy.

He very carefully pulled her to her close to him, and on unsteady legs she walked out of the casing. They didn’t get three feet from the casing before Michelle stopped. She suddenly dropped to her knees, and Vic did the same, now drenched with water. Again, Vic said hello.

She gave no response, but just looked back at him, her eyes still judging him. She looked Vic deep into his eyes then opened her mouth slightly, about to give a response. She stayed that way for some time, frozen with mouth agape. But then she looked away and closed her eyes tight, as if in pain. She tilted her head back as far as it would go. Suddenly she fell to her side and simultaneously crushed Vic’s hand within hers. He ignored the extreme pain of his now broken hand and rushed to help her up. Immediately Michelle shook and shuddered, going into strong convulsions, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

Mr. Finch scrubbed the already shiny surface of a machine, grunting as he pushed down with all his force. Spit dripped from between his gritting teeth as his focused and enraged eyes glazed over, fading into a blank stare. His heavy breath moved in tune with the scrubbing of the cloth that he clenched between his white knuckled hands. A smile suddenly spread across his incensed face as he heard a mournful cry from Vic. His smile widened as he heard the panicked cries of the others form a chorus, then he just scrubbed as hard as he could, letting their cries comfort him.

* * * * *

Vic walked back to his apartment, the fluorescent lights somewhat dimmer and his head lowered, defeat written in his eyes. He walked through the hallways, his now bandaged hand guiding him along the railing. The bandage was a dirty white, one so typical of a second rate hospital. He reached the top of the stairs and walked the rest of the hallway to his apartment, deciding not to use the transporter. At the corner, where two dim, white hallways met, was a small brown door, which was a contrast to all the other blue doors. He placed his hand on the door and it opened for him automatically. He saw a figure moving out of the corner of his eye. He was about to turn to identify the mysterious silhouette, but decided he was too tired to care and entered his apartment. He closed the door behind him, preparing to lie down on the nearest couch. But suddenly he noticed that the door didn’t close.

He looked and saw that there was a foot in the doorway. He grumbled, slowly moving away from the couch and back to the door, dumbfounded by who might be bothering him at such a late hour. He opened the door, ready to give a lecture to some punk of a kid, but abruptly stopped and turned a pale white as he saw a face he had long ago tried to forget.

Bright red lips curved upward into a crooked, mischievous smile as dark, haunting eyes stared out from a gorgeous face partially hidden by strands of black hair. And her hair, it was that of demi-gods, of lusting she-devils and devious sirens that men at sea would die for only a glimpse of. It had shimmering curves in it that were as smooth and sensual as those of her body, which sizzled beneath a tight red dress. Her skin was a light mocha color and her exotic black eyes sparkled with such power and defiance that they were intimidating to look into. She stood, slanted with her shoulder against the wall, and her hand placed firmly on her hip while looking Vic up and down. He was about to speak when his voice seemed to be gone, silenced by this woman’s mere presence.

“Hello, Vic,” she spoke as though the words had been building up inside her.
Vic was frozen inside and out, nothing could respond to what he was presented with.
“What’s wrong, didn’t you miss me?” she asked, moving toward him, her walk filled with an unintended sensuality.
“I…you?”
“Well… aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Uh…yea, come in?”

Vic stumbled into a chair and she leaned against the wall.
“What happened to your hand?” she demanded more than asked.
“No, it’s just- nothing, just a fractured bone, why are you here?”
“I got bored, missed my home.”
“But you’re supposed to be with that company. They don’t let things like you walk away.”
“I’m not a thing, Vic, I’m a person,” her voice was like a bulwark, impermeable to persuasion.
“But…” Vic sighed, deciding it would be better to just give up the argument, “well what do you want from me?”
“I don’t know, some company, maybe a little fun…”
“Are they going to be coming after you?”
“Who?”
“The company, the God dam- ...the people that I sold you to.” Vic forced a calm voice and continued. “They paid a lot of money for you, and I doubt they would just let you slip through their fingers.”
“Oh, no they let me go.”
“They! -no they wouldn’t do that, no company would let an investment like you go.”
“That’s alright if you don’t believe me, I just need a place to stay.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t stay-
“Great, I’ll stay here,” She smiled.
“Look, I’m-
But before he could finish his sentence, the phone began to ring. She went to grab it, but Vic lurched forward and nearly fell as he grabbed it with his good hand.

“Hello!” He yelled into the phone, “I mean, hello?”
“Vic,” Johnny yelled into the phone, “she’s doing it again, Michelle’s getting all tense, I think she’s going to have a heart attack or something. The Supervisor’s out and Finch is somewhere else, so I need some help! Get down here now!”
“Oh my God,” Vic jumped out of his chair, “Lucy, I have to go, I have to go right now.”
“Lucy?” Johnny asked on the other end of the phone, but no one was there to hear it.

Vic gave a little wave to Lucy and sprinted out of his room and down the hallway. Lucy quickly followed him through the door. She moved silently, like a stealthy lion hunting its prey through an open plain.

* * * * *

Vic, out of breath, soon arrived at the lab and found Michelle in convulsions while Johnny tried to hold her down.

“What’s going on?” Vic yelled, looking on in horror.
“She just started it,” Johnny cried “her stats were on a slow rise for about an hour and half. But just a few minutes ago they were off the scale and a few seconds ago…well, you can see for yourself. It looked like she was about to wake up and then she started this.”
“Oh, no,” Vic shuddered, kneeling before Michelle, “I think she’s having a seizure.”

Suddenly Lucy entered the room and Michelle stopped, her eyes closed and her face resuming its peaceful expression.
“What happened,” Johnny asked, looking from person to person, “Lucy, is that you?”
“In the flesh,” Lucy grinned with her crooked, red lipped smile.
“She’s not breathing,” Vic cried.
“What do we do?” Johnny cried, forgetting about Lucy.
“Get her back in the casing, it will breathe for her.”

Johnny and Vic quickly moved Michelle into the glass casing while Lucy looked on. They closed the glass and as it filled with water the tubes reattached themselves to Michelle. Vic jumped to the computer screen next to the casing and watched it intently.

“She’s breathing,” Vic said as if relieved of every worry in the world.
“So this is the new one,” Lucy said, “I heard you were making a new one. But this one seems a little…substandard.”
“Not now,” Vic pleaded, “please, not now.”
“Why are you back here?” Johnny asked Lucy, but she paid no attention.

Mr. Finch suddenly entered the room and stopped as he saw Lucy.
“Who’s she?” His eyes glistened with lust.
“To you,” Vic began, “she’s the AR1, but-
“I’m Lucy,” she replied, giving Mr. Finch her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he responded, setting down the cleaning fluids, about to shake her hand.

Lucy very nonchalantly extended her hand with a roll of her eyes, when suddenly she caught sight of his hair and froze, the fear of God trapped in her gaze. She took a long, gaping look at his blood red hair, her extended hand as frozen as her eyes. But suddenly she broke free and shook her head dismissively, and eventually took hold of Mr. Finch’s hand.

She quickly turned as if insulted and stood by Vic.
“She’s the predecessor to Michelle,” Johnny whispered to Mr. Finch.
“I think she’ll be ok,” Vic said, “now I have to get out of here. I need to prepare my report to the generals.”
“I’ll take care of things in the lab,” Johnny said, disappearing behind a computer.

Vic walked from the lab, worry in his step. He turned down the hall, toward the transporter with Lucy following close behind.

* * * * *

“Just answer me on thing,” Vic began, now back at his apartment, “do you have a security clearance card?”
“Yes.”
“Now you’re sure?”
“Of course.”
“Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Vic’s voice filled with frustration.
“Because I don’t want you to see it, my picture on it is very embarrassing.”
“Ok, this isn’t going anywhere.”
“Nope,” she smiled, shaking her head.
“Ok, so you don’t have-
“Hey let’s go do something! I know a dance hall where I can get in free, come on let’s go.”
Her face filled with excitement as if her idea was the greatest thing she’d ever conceived.

“No, this is serious,” Vic argued.
“You’re so serious,” she said, imitating Vic in a deep voice.
“Can’t you be serious for one second? Please, just tell me truthfully; do you have a security clearance card?”
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“What?”
“If you go dancing with me I’ll tell you everything you need to know…and maybe a little more.”
“Oh, no, no. I don’t dance.”
“Then you don’t get any information."
“Come on Lucy, don’t do this.”
“Hey, I’m willing to compromise here, you dance and you’ll get information. It sounds very fair to me.”
“Ok, I'll...dance,” Vic grumbled.

Every part of her functioned with a hint of sensuality. Whether it was her speech or her walk or even how she smiled, every part of her was sensuous and every movement, from the blink of an eye to the flick of the wrist seemed to have a hidden motive behind it.

* * * * *

Vic sat silently on a stool, slightly hunched forward, leaning onto the bar. Strobe lights filled the medium sized room and some music that he had never heard before and would prefer to never hear again was blasting on the speakers. He sipped from his near vacant glass and placed it next to three empty ones as he watched Lucy out on the dance floor.

“Did you hear,” the bartender leaned on the counter to get close to Vic. “There’s some kinda supermodel out on the floor right now. You might want to get out there, wouldn’t want to miss your only chance.”
“Eh…” Vic groaned back.

He turned around and watched as men surrounded Lucy, each with an obvious interest. Every male in the area seemed drawn to her, all their eyes under her spell. There wasn’t a single female within three meters of her, it was all men. She waved her arms in the air while wildly shaking her hips in tune with the music, not bothered by a care in the world. A tall and handsome man tried to speak to her, but she put her hand to his face and quickly pushed him aside so that she could see Vic, smiling at him as she did so. She motioned with her index finger for him to come out on the dance floor but Vic quickly shook his head.

“Sorry, I can’t,” he said, but his words were drowned out by the music.
She signaled for him to come to her again.
“I can’t,” he yelled over the crowd, but again, his words were consumed by the music. Finally he walked over to her and just as he was about to repeat what he had been saying, Lucy grabbed him.
“You came over!” Lucy yelled, competing with the music. “I knew you would! Now dance with me.”
“I can’t, I- I really can’t,” Vic spoke shaking his head, standing still as a statue, while the others around him gyrated and danced, forming a sea of moving flesh.

Lucy grabbed Vic’s hands and raised them up.

“AAAHH!” Vic cried out, looking at his still bandaged hand.
“Sorry,” Lucy apologized quickly.
She gently slid her hands down to his wrists, keeping her eyes locked on his as she did so. A crooked little smile appeared on her face as the action took place.
“Better...” she silently mouthed the word.
Vic nodded with a grimace.

“I’m feeling rather uncomfortable right now,” Vic complained as Lucy gently pulled him from side to side.
“Come on. Just dance, please…”
Vic quickly shook his head, but as he continued to look into those beautiful dark eyes, he found it increasingly difficult to say no. She had perfected the art of persuasion, and could do so without saying a word.

Just as it seemed he might begin to consider her words, he felt a body hit his back hard. Half stunned, Vic fell to the floor and behind him, saw a drunken man in a fight with another.
“Are you ok?” Vic asked Lucy from the floor.
But she ignored him; she had other thoughts on her mind. She quickly grabbed the man who had fallen backwards and hit Vic.
“We were dancing,” Lucy said angrily into his dazed eyes, grabbing his shoulders and turning him toward her.
“Back off me, woman,” he cried, swinging his arms at her.
“Come on, let’s go,” Vic pulled at Lucy.
Suddenly the man who had run into Vic was hit over the head with a beer bottle. A large, stumbling man stepped back, a goofy smile on his dazed face as he laughed at what he had done. The drunk man, not knowing who had hit him looked around, and attacked the first face he saw, assuming it was his attacker. Without second thought he tackled Vic, and as he sat atop him he punched him once then pulled his fist back, about to strike again. Lucy suddenly grabbed his hand and crushed it within hers. She picked him up with an outstretched arm, holding his frail neck within her hand.
“You hurt him,” Lucy said slowly.

He was too surprised and confused to give a response. With the greatest of ease, Lucy threw the drunkard into the air, watching in satisfaction as he hit a wall. She leapt over the crowd and landed on his chest. Vic watched, holding his injured jaw, but he couldn’t see or hear a thing over the loud music. He quickly pushed his way past people in the crowd; then through the mass of moving bodies he saw Lucy’s fist fly back and strike the man. She stood up and saw Vic.
“Hey,” she yelled with a smile, waving her hand as the blood dripped down it, “this place is boring me, let’s go somewhere else.”
“Yea, let’s go,” Vic yelled, looking at the crowd forming around the man.

* * * * *

Vic walked down the street, his hands in his pockets as he watched Lucy. The weather simulation made fake snow fall all through out the space station. Lucy carelessly skipped along side him, trying to catch snow on her tongue. Her black serpentine hair stood out against the pure white snow. At the corner of every block, massive television screens blasted the citizens with news and information. They were all tuned to different stations and together created a whirlwind of useless noise and images.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Vic asked, looking past the snow flakes to Lucy’s face.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, still trying to catch snow flakes, “Does it really matter? Look, I got one! See?”
“Yes, I see.”
The snowflake flickered as it rested on her tongue.
“So, what do you want to do now?” she asked with the most heartfelt smile. “The night is young...”
“I want to go home and sleep.”
“Great!”
“Whoa, you say that as if you were coming with me.”
“Welll…”
“No, no, you can’t stay with me. I’ll get you a hotel.”
“Those things are so expensive, don’t waste your money.”
“You can’t stay with me.”
“Please…” She batted her eyes.
“No, I’m getting you a hotel.”
“You’re so boring, you know that.”
“That may be, but you’re still staying in a hotel.”
“Fine...”

They walked closely beside each other, and as they did, Lucy batted her eyes at Vic again.
“Stop that.”
“You know, I think you’re the only man alive who’s immune to that. Hope there aren’t more like you…”
“Yea, well I hope there aren’t more like you.”
“Yea, I guess that would be worse, wouldn’t it.”

* * * * *

“You weren’t at the lab today,” Vic spoke into the phone.
“I had a meeting with the generals,” the Supervisor responded, “it took three hours to get out of that damn chair and another hour to prepare my report.”
“How did it go?”
“It was ok, but they’re more interested in your report than mine.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Did you hear what happened at the lab?”
“Yes, Michelle had another seizure.”
“Anything else?”
“No, what’s this about?”
“It’s about Lucy, she’s back.”
“No, no that’s impossible. We sold her to that company, what was its name?”
“Omnicorpe.”
“Yea, a fake name if I ever heard one. But regardless, their CEO gave us a lot of money. There’s no way they would let her run around.”
“I know my own work, Kurt-
“Watch it, this line could be tapped.”
“I’m trying to stress a point. It was her, and no one knows better than I do.”
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Thank you. So how do you think she got back here?”
“I have no idea; the entire station is top secret, not in a single file on record. But if you’re right and she really is back…well that just wouldn’t make any sense. The very idea that they would let her free is striking and the idea that she would not only be able to find this place, but come back on her own accord, well that defies all reason, it just makes no sense.”
“Yea.”
“Ok, well you need sleep, so get some.”
“Yea, see you tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.

Vic lay there in silence, letting the stars form familiar shapes in his mind until he heard a scratching at his window. He dismissed it as a glitch in the security system, as it often made similar sounds. The scratching continued for another half a minute, until the window was abruptly shattered.

“Lights! Lights!” Vic screamed, leaping to his feet.
The room was quickly illuminated and while his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a blurred figure enter his room. He quickly reached under his bed for the standard issue handgun. It wasn’t until after he had fired it, until the smell of shot bullet had overtaken the room, that he realized it was Lucy.

“Oh my God…” The gun fell from Vic’s fingertips.
“You shot me?” Lucy looked at him as she touched her fingers to the bloody wound in the center of her chest.
“Oh my God!” Vic screamed. “I-
“Eh, it’s fine,” she smiled as the bullet fell to the floor.
“What- how?”
“Have you forgotten already?” Lucy looked at him, severe concern in her eyes. “You designed me very well. I can heal, remember? It just hurts like a bitch is all…”
“Oh my God,” Vic gave a relief filled sigh. “I am so sorry…”
Lucy just shrugged forgivingly. Vic could only grimace as he watched the blood seep down her yellow sundress.
“Where did you get that dress from? I didn’t see you with any luggage.”
“Oh, this?” She smiled, looking down at the now ruined dress. “People…like to give me things.”
Vic shook his head with a smile.
“But- what’re you doing here?”
“I…” Lucy lowered her eyes to the ground and dug the tip of her foot into the carpet. “I didn’t like the hotel. I got lonely.”
“But, my window… Lucy, what were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry…” She kept her eyes lowered, giving the perfect pouty face.
“You know you can’t stay here,” Vic said strictly.
“But where am I to go, all the hotels have closed for the night, nothing is open.”
Vic leaned his head back and sighed, forcing a frustrated smile across his face.
“You’ll sleep on the couch. There are some blankets in the bathroom.”
“Wow, you’re really old fashioned, using blankets and stuff.”
“Just sleep,” Vic commanded. “I don’t want to hear another peep out of you. I’m already probably going to have to explain to the police why my gun was fired.”
“Just say you had a bad dream, night terrors, maybe.”
“Sleep.”
“Yea, ok.”













         DAY FOUR


Vic awoke slowly, not wanting to get out of his comfortable bed. His eyes remained closed, as the lights outside were always bright and hurt his eyes in the morning. But he decided that he eventually had to get up. He finally decided he was ready to face the day, and opened his eyes. Suddenly he realized Lucy was standing over him, leaning in and looking into his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Vic asked, uncomfortably sitting up, covering himself with the covers.
“Waiting for you to wake up. I made breakfast,” Lucy held a tray with eggs, bacon and potatoes on it.
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“No, I got bored. It happens on lonely nights…”
“It’s cold,” Vic tasted the eggs, “good though.”
“Thank you; sorry it’s cold, but I made it about three hours ago.”
“But you got here…what, like four hours ago?” Vic looked to the clock next to his bed.
“I don’t sleep very much anymore.”
“You only need an hour?”
“Sometimes,” she spoke proudly.

* * * * *

“Well,” Vic set the fork down on his now clean plate, “thank you for the delicious food. Now, I’m going out for my walk.”
“Why?” She asked with the tenacity of a child.
“I have one more day before I report to the generals, I want to have a clear head when I do so.”
“Ok, I guess I’ll go too.”
“Alright,” Vic agreed, preferring not to leave her alone in his apartment.

They walked along the edge of the dome as Vic looked outside of it. There was so much going on inside the dome, so much life and activity and entertainment that it became easy for a person to forget that there was an entire universe outside, but not Vic. He always looked outside the tiny dome. He, on more than a few occasions had to do some fast apologizing for bumping into the wrong people. Once he even bumped into a general. Many thought he liked staring out into nothingness, but he found solace outside the dome.

At that moment he was watching a demonstration with the Fighters. It was a test that would decide who would get to be pilots and who would sit behind computers all day. Lucy quickly grabbed his arm within hers, locking at the elbows. She pressed herself against him and clung his arm tightly within hers, a content smile across her face.
“So…” she looked up to him with her big, dark eyes “What’re you doing?”
“I’m watching them.” Vic pointed to the distant Fighters.
“Oh, are those Fighters?”
“Yea, I like watching them.”
“Me too,” Lucy lied.

They both stopped and turned toward the scene in outer space. The test was for two pilots to have a dogfight in space. It was almost a game of tag. Each fighter had only one shot in their rifle and they had to hit the other, but the catch was that they had to hit the other Fighter when in a range of five hundred meters. Very few passed this test on the basis of their own skill; most passed just because the other guy messed up. It was the final test for new pilots.

Vic watched with eager eyes as two Fighters were deployed. Immediately they began the test. One chased the other as they spun and jumped and dodged with lightning speed, all the while trying to catch the other off guard.

“You know, there’s over four hundred thousand moving parts in each one of those Fighters,” Vic said in awe, not taking his eyes off the distant space battle.
“They aren’t that impressive,” Lucy said passively.
“Well, not compared to you, but still, they’re incredible.”
“Want to have some fun?” Lucy asked, looking up at Vic with a fiendish smile across her face.
“What are you talking about?”
Lucy turned back to the Fighters.
“Lucy, what are you talking about?” Vic asked again, still expecting an answer from her.

Suddenly he heard gasps and saw people around him pointing into outer space. Vic looked to Lucy, who seemed to glow with a particular sense of achievement. He looked outside the dome and saw that both Fighters were in each other’s arms in the middle of a waltz. They moved, perfectly synchronized, the only thing missing was the music. Lucy began to hum the tune for the waltz as she watched.
“Are you doing this?” Vic cried.
“Do you like it?” she asked with wide eyes and an anticipating smile.
“No, make them stop. Now. Stop it.”
“Perhaps you’re not much for the waltz,” Lucy spoke with excited eyes, “how about…the tango.”
“No! Now cut it…Wow, they’re actually doing the- Wait, no, no, you have to stop. Just stop it right now.”
“Ok.” Lucy sighed and gave her perfected sad face.

Immediately both Fighters regained control and jumped away from each other, but not before they each got one shot off.
“You’re no fun, you know that?”
“I didn’t give you that ability so you could entertain yourself,” Vic whispered, noticing the crowd forming.
“Then why did you?” Lucy asked, making a point not to whisper.
“To protect others,” Vic said quietly, “you put two pilots in danger just now.”
“Well hey, they both shot each other; they both passed the test. It looks like we’ll have two more Fighter pilots to protect the station. I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job, don’t you?”
“You have to be more careful, Lucy,” Vic whispered harshly.
“I hate caution. It makes you forget what it’s like to live. If you get too cautious, you just might spend your whole life in a little jar like this one. What a shame that would be.”
“Look, I have a meeting with some very powerful generals tomorrow and after that little incident I’m sure they’re going to have a lot of questions for me.”
“Oh, it’s fine."

Vic turned and walked, while Lucy followed close behind. He was nervous now, and everything from his walk to his face made it apparent. Lucy walked next to him, keeping his pace.

“Vic, could I ask you something?” Lucy asked, stopping and looking to him.
“It’s ok, I’ll make up something about that dancing Fighter thing, don’t worry,” Vic assured her. But suddenly he noticed Lucy’s very serious, almost troubled face, “What is it, is something wrong?”
“Why did you make me the way you did?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why am I who I am? Why do I look like this? Why do I have this face, this body, these breasts? You could have made me in any way, shape or form. You could have made me a- a fucking dog, but I look like this, why?”
“Well, the order called for an attractive woman.”
“But you could have made my hair red, you could have had my skin tone darker or lighter, why am I this way? You could have designed me to be shy and quiet, but I’m this way. Why?” She was now yelling more than asking.
“Don’t you like the way you are?”
“That’s not the point! I just want to know why. Throughout the entire span of their existence, a person will never get the opportunity to talk to their creator, they will never get to go up to their god, look him straight in the face and ask why the hell are things the way they are, but I can. I can look straight into the eyes of my creator and ask why.” Lucy spoke, peering sharply into Vic’s eyes. “And I want to know why.”
Vic sighed, paused and thought.

“I don’t know; I made you into someone I thought I would able to connect with, into someone I could be happy with. We were going to run away- But…that’s all changed now,” Vic spoke, gently touching his heart.
“Why did it change?”
“Look, I made you like that, because that’s what I needed at the time, simple as that. But times are different now; everything’s different now. So that’s why, ok?”
“You know I am sorry about what happened in the lab, when I…you know. It was an accident, honest to God. I’m different now too.” Lucy’s expression was no longer angered, but had sincere care written in her eyes.
“Look, it worked out fine. I think it all worked out great, don’t you?” Vic asked, trying to end the conversation.
“I don’t know…” her words trailed off.
“Good enough, so now we can get going, that’s enough talk with your creator.” Vic quickly walked away, leaving Lucy there, alone and staring off into space.
Suddenly she awoke from her little daydream, resumed her crooked smile and ran after Vic.

* * * * *

Hours passed and they had now traveled the circumference of the dome three times.

“Thank you for taking me out today,” Lucy smiled. “I like it here, it’s a very nice place.”
“Well, I’m glad you like my home. I take a lot of pride in it.”
Lucy suddenly leaned forward and quickly kissed the side of Vic’s cheek.
Vic immediately froze, his eyes staring forward, entirely petrified. Lucy froze too, staring blankly forward. They both stood beside each other, still and avoiding any eye contact, each waiting for the other to react.
“Let’s…let’s go home.” Vic played it off.


Lucy and Vic were now walking with several inches between them, but very slowly Lucy decreased the gap.

They passed through the impoverished area of the station, something that they had skipped before. There were several little stands strewn about, forming a tiny market where people sold what little goods they could offer. A hallway with makeshift rafters created a shaded pathway with beams of sunlight seeping through. Small children ran from stand to stand, chasing each other while the stand owners watched them intently. The sounds of laughter and friendly conversation filled the area.

“What is this place?” Lucy asked, a fascinated expression on her face.
“There were a lot of people on Earth who normally couldn’t afford to come up on a space station. This is the cheapest part of the station, where they stay. People here are mostly poor and work for the station, so they’re allowed to here. They don’t get paid for their work though, they’re just given room and board so a lot of them make items and then sell them for extra money. Like this.”
Vic picked up a small wooden trinket.

“You want?” the old woman behind the stand asked, “It brings good fortune, will make you very happy. Three dollars.”
There was shade covering half her face and all Vic could see of her was her wide, aged and wrinkled grin.
“Do you like it?” Vic asked.
“Yea, it’s beautiful,” Lucy said, looking at the wooden, spherical object.

It was a smooth, wooden orb and on it, were several words in a foreign language Lucy had never seen before. There were drawings in the form of swirls that circled the ball, giving it the appearance of flames.
“What does it say?” Vic asked.
“Lonely duck more fortunate than friendly man,” the woman responded, “very old joke where I come from.”
“Interesting, I don't get it though,” Lucy said.
“I’ll take it,” Vic smiled, looking from the trinket, to the woman.
He watched with a certain horror as she leaned forward, out of the shadows and her two hollow, black eye sockets became visible.
“Thanks…” Lucy said, distracted by her blindness.
“You welcome,” the old woman responded, still showing off her aged smile.

* * * * *

Back at the lab there was an interrogation between the Supervisor and Johnny.
“And you’re sure it was Lucy?” the Supervisor asked Johnny, hovering high above him so that Johnny would have to tilt his head back to speak.
“I understand I was new here when you finished making her, but I know it was her. You never forget a face that pretty, not in a million years.”
“Ok, ok, Vic told me it was her too.”
“It was her, I’m telling you, it was!”
“Alright,” the Supervisor said, “get back to work.”
“Yes sir.”

Johnny walked back next to Mr. Finch who was eavesdropping.

“Hey, Johnny” Mr. Finch smiled. “Did you know that Vic’s real name is Oscar?”
“Yea, the first thing I did was look up his name too… You know what the Supervisor’s name is?”
“No, what?”
“Therman Kurt.”
“Ha ha- are you serious? What a loser.”
“Yea, I- oh, hello Mr. Supervisor.”
“Hello boys.” He lowered down upon them. “I think I’m going to put a limit on your access to the computer from now on.”
“Yes, sir…” the two men grumbled.







“I don’t really like how he pushes us around,” Mr. Finch whispered as the Supervisor floated in the opposite direction.
“No, they’re actually both pretty nice guys. It won’t be uncommon for them to buy you a round of beers after a good day’s work. Just don’t insult the specimen, and don’t let them hear you call her a specimen.”
“Man, at my last job, I was the king… Worked about half a dozen hours every month and got paid three thousand per hour.”
“Good God…”
“Yea, let’s just say I had to make a lot of people disappear to get that job.”
“Yea, I’d imagine. See, I could never be one of you badass soldier types, just couldn’t bring myself to kill anyone.”
“Well, see- there’s your first mistake. You never say ‘kill’ or ‘murder’ or ‘dead.’ You say ‘disappear’ or ‘is missing,’ and afterward, you say ‘taken care of.’ Makes the job a lot easier.”
“You ever say anything cool before you killed anyone?”
“Actually, I did. I, ha ha, I had this thing where I liked to-
“Would you assholes get back to work.” The Supervisor snuck up on them from behind. “I knew I shouldn’t have hired a second one. Get two of you together and you’re like little girls at a God damn tea party.”
“Yes, sir…”
“And Finch, don’t give him any ideas.”
“Yes, sir,” he smiled. “And I look forward to that round of beers, sir.”
“Yea, I bet you do.”

Mr. Finch followed the Supervisor as he floated back into the middle of the lab.
“So,” he began casually. “I heard you talking about this Lucy person. Who is she?”
“An old experiment.”
“And?”
“Look, it’s very complicated and very difficult to explain.”
“How can you expect me to learn anything if you won’t tell me anything?”
The Supervisor was about to snap at him when he suddenly paused.

“You’re right.” He half sighed. “I’ll tell you, just because it might make you act better around Vic.”
“Ok.”
“Lucy was the predecessor to Michelle, somewhat of a prototype. But Lucy isn’t supposed to exist. The military never gave clearance for her creation. But Vic was so gung ho about it all that he designed and created her anyway. The whole thing failed and we ended up selling her to the highest bidder.”
“What happened?”
“She attacked Vic almost immediately after waking. We blamed his injury on a lab accident so that the army wouldn’t discover her. They never do checks on reports so we just had to have a reasonable excuse. I still can’t believe he survived; it’s a real miracle, sad though. He loved her and that damn woman broke his heart.”
“I see, so is that why he snapped at me the other day?”
“Pretty much.”

“Hey, uh Supervisor,” Johnny yelled from the far corner of the lab, “the computer’s got something here.”
“Yea, I started a search a few minutes ago, let me see,” the Supervisor floating toward Johnny.

“Oh no,” he gasped, as he looked at the screen.
“This is some really depressing stuff you searched for, sir.” Johnny scanned the words with an expression of disgust.
“The search results... I was searching for the company that bought Lucy. I need to speak to Vic. Speaker phone, now, call Vic!”

* * * * *

Vic stared up at the glass ceiling and soon the stars began to form familiar shapes in his mind, eventually forming her face, Lucy’s. Despite his best efforts, memory slowly became reality and Vic found himself back in the lab where it all started. It was only a few years earlier and Lucy had just awoken. They removed her from her casing and her eyes were barely opening. Vic lovingly cradled her in his arms, then slowly, with the utmost gentleness and care set her down on the wet floor. He carefully brushed her wet hair out of her face and a smile appeared on his. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and the first thing they saw was Vic’s smiling face. Vic’s caring eyes stared into Lucy’s dark, beautiful eyes and for a quick second it seemed as if they were one in mind and spirit, as if they had known each other for many years and this was just another casual meeting between old friends. Vic felt he would do anything for those eyes. He would love them forever. He knelt over her and she rested her head on his arm, looking up to him. He made a big grin, so proud of her, and just as he felt Lucy might smile back, he felt the shard of glass stabbed into his heart. The few remaining seconds of consciousness were only a blur to him, but through his faded vision, as Vic’s blood coated Lucy, just before he passed out, he almost thought he saw her smile.

Vic suddenly sat up and violently shook his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to distract himself, to bury the memory in some deep dark crevice of his mind where he’d never have to think of it again. But such places in the mind could never retain those kinds of memories. He placed his hand over his heart, feeling the long, jagged scar left behind. He pulled the blankets over his head when suddenly he heard the phone ring. He grumbled at the nuisance.
“Speaker phone!” he yelled.
Suddenly the Supervisor’s voice filled the room.
“Vic, I just got some news.”
“What is it now?”
“It’s about the company that bought Lucy. They’re…dead.”
“What do you mean, dead?”
“The people who bought her are dead, but it’s not just the company, the entire city was destroyed.”
“Well, the people that bought her were fighting a war. They probably just blew each other up. Lucy didn’t have any part in it.”
“It’s not beyond her capabilities, Vic.”
“I doubt it was her, probably some religious nut.” Vic yawned.
“I don’t want her coming around the lab anymore. Tomorrow you need to block her access.”
“Yes sir,” Vic half yawned again.
“Now get some sleep, we can look into this further tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Vic said, “sleep tight.”
“I don’t sleep.”
“Good night...”
“Yea, whatever…”

* * * * *

Vic slowly tip-toed through his dark apartment, intent on a glass of water. He could hear a frantic murmuring coming from the couch. He slowly moved to it, finding Lucy, covered in sweat as she tossed and turned, a troubled expression across her face.
“Swing, swing low,” she mumbled. “No don’t swing! Bring him back, sweet chariot, bring him back!”

Vic paused as he stood above her. He lowered his injured hand upon her and with the most loving movements, he stroked her hair, his fingers gliding through the silky darkness.
“Shh…it’s ok,” he quietly hushed, and she became still.
A gentle moan escaped her and with eyes still closed, she tenderly placed her hand upon his. He lowered down and quickly kissed the back of her hand, watching her very serene expression to make sure her eyes hadn’t opened. He then brushed some strands of hair out of her face and gently kissed her forehead, a longer kiss than before. He watched her face very carefully, then moved down, hovering above her lips. He paused, his own lips shuddering and his breath quickened in anticipation. He slowly moved in. A smile appeared on her face, and just as he could feel her soft breath upon his lips and there was hardly a space between them, she squeezed his hand. Immediately a loud pop came from beneath the bandages and he yanked it away, mouthing out swear words in the silence.

“Mother fu…God da-”
Vic quickly stumbled away, holding his hand. He exited the door, headed for the infirmary. Lucy simply rolled onto her side as a quiet groan escaped her smiling lips.

         DAY FIVE


Vic awoke the next day, greeted by all the sunshine one could handle. He lifted his right hand and looked with confusion at the black cast that had now replaced the white bandages.
“Oh yea…” he slowly remembered.

* * * * *

Sweat dripped down Vic’s forehead as he stood awkwardly in a room full of uncomfortably seated generals, all dressed in their military uniform. There were three generals up front, which were the most important and the only ones who spoke. The rest were just there for show.

General McCarthy was a middle aged, smooth talking general, with gray, slicked back hair. He always seemed to have some form of subterfuge lurking in his motives. He had a kind exterior and a plastic smile, but his gentle disguise was usually penetrated after a single conversation.

General White was a cold, stone-faced man. He was fairly old and had a thick, neatly trimmed white mustache, which was the exact same color as his thinning hair. His will and determination seemed unshakable. Rumors were told about how he was captured by enemy soldiers in the last Great War, decades ago. They said he was tortured for information for seven days straight. The rumors said he drove his torturers to madness with his silence and incredible will. The scars that covered 40% of his body were proof of his dedication to the job.

General Bluff was a quick and concise general. He didn’t seem to harbor any respect for the feeling of others, nor for their lives. He was also made famous in the last Great War. He gave an order to attack an enemy ship that was using the surrounding peaceful ships as a shield. The attack obliterated the enemy ship as well as the surrounding ships. It was deemed a casualty of war. 300,000 innocent people died and it was said to have turned the tides of the war and General Bluff became a hero. It was said that he never hesitated, flinched, or showed any emotion when giving the order.

Vic stood in front of a large screen as pictures of Michelle were shown. This all took place within a tiny metallic room, void of any windows or carpet. The walls were covered with rust and green discolorations.

“This is the AX2,” Vic began as a picture of Michelle soundly asleep appeared on the screen, “and she will bring us into the next evolution of technology.”
“We already know what the little lady can do,” general McCarthy said.
“What we don’t know,” General Bluff began, “is if we really need such a thing.”
“What do you mean, if we need,” Vic said quickly, “I’ve already created her…with a lot of my own money. You can’t suddenly change your mind. I got signed clearance from each and every one of you, even the lower generals that no one cares about!”
“Easy Vic, take it easy,” General McCarthy said, talking down to him “we’re simply deciding how much power we should allow her to have, that’s all.”
“You know Vic,” General Bluff began “yesterday I saw something very interesting. I saw two Fighters dancing with each other. I have been involved with this military for over thirty-five years now and have been working with Fighters for even longer, and you know what, I’ve never seen them do that before. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that would you?”
Vic was silent for a few seconds as he quickly choose between truth and lie.
“No, sir, I have no idea how that happened; probably just pilots fooling around.”
“This whole thing makes me nervous,” General White began, “and that’s real hard to do.”
“I don’t understand why this should make you nervous.” Vic argued. “This will alleviate our vulnerability to any enemy war machine.”
“Bluff,” General White began, “would you please show him why this is making me nervous.”

General Bluff reached into a bag and removed a large file with the word ‘confidential’ in big bold letters written on it.
“Is that paper?” Vic asked, “I thought we only used computer files on this ship.”
“Computer files can be hacked,” General McCarthy barked, “paper is the best way to keep a secret.”
General Bluff tossed the file onto the ground before Vic. He watched the generals’ cold and stern eyes as he knelt down and grabbed the file. He picked it up, about to open the folder.
“Now you do realize,” General McCarthy began, “that by opening that file you thereby comply to military regulatory codes and you agree to uphold its code of secrecy.”
“Of course,” Vic said, flipping through the file.

There was a long silence left by the generals’ still mouths. The flipping of the paper could hardly fill the uncomfortable void.
“You’ve got a lot of mistakes in here, gentlemen,” Vic said, still looking at the file.
“What, a mistake?” General McCarthy mocked, “Where?”
“Well, you’ve mislabeled the weaponry.”
“I went over that file a hundred times, there are no mistakes…”
“Then you mean…” Vic looked with fear into the generals’ intimidating eyes.
All three generals nodded.
“Well that’s insane, none of these weapons should exist. Look here, you’ve got proton cannons on the shoulder portions of the Fighter. Those were outlawed under the second treaty of Mars. And here, you’ve got three weapons that use atomic energy; those were outlawed under the treaty of Tetra-solace. My God, you’ve got a rail gun, that’s insane, and- and an AGD canon. Do you know how dangerous this thing is? You’re crazy if you think you’ll ever be able to build this thing. You’ll all be put in jail for using illegal weaponry. And even worse, the other planets and territories, they’ll start a war over this.”
“How little faith you have in us,” General McCarthy began, “we already built it. We’ve already armed it and we’re ready to use it. Let them start their wars- we’re prepared
“But you can never let this thing see day light,” Vic cried. “You’ll all be imprisoned.”
“You do remember,” General Bluff spoke up, “the code of secrecy.”

Vic stared back at them, at their determined eyes and straight faces.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Quite serious,” General McCarthy replied, “You know as well as I that any breach in the code of confidentiality is cause for the most severe of repercussions.”
“Now,” General White began, “I think you can begin to see why this is making me nervous. If we have a machine that can control any Fighter, what’s to stop it from taking control of this one?”
“I assure you, gentlemen, the AX2 is a useful tool. It will protect us from-
“You didn’t answer the question,” General White yelled.
“I…” Vic began.
“You can’t assure us anything,” General McCarthy growled, “so please tell us why we should allow your AX2 to exist. If it takes control of our Fighter it could easily destroy our humble little home; and not only that, but help bring about that little war you just mentioned.”
“We also understand that you had a little mishap with your last creation, a prototype to the current one if I’m not mistaken.”
“What are you talking about?” Vic asked, looking frantically from General to General, finding not a hint of mercy in their eyes.
“Its name is AR1 or…Lucy if I remember correctly.”
“Where did you get this information from?”
“Sources. Now answer the question. Is this true?”
Vic stared on in silence.
“Now if the last prototype failed what is to stop the current one from failing?”
“I don’t know,” Vic spoke, defeat in his words. “What- what do you want me to say?”
“Nothing more,” General Bluff said victoriously, “we’ve made our decision.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I,” General McCarthy began, “am going to give the order to have both the AX2 and the AR1 destroyed.”

A terrible shock washed over Vic and he froze, unable to move or talk or act in any way. The generals began getting out of their chairs when Vic suddenly regained control over his body.
“No, I can’t let you.”
“It has to happen,” General Bluff began, “we can’t take the risk that it might turn our own Fighter against us. It’s either your creation or ours, and we’ve made our decision.”
“But…you can’t,” Vic cried, becoming short of breath.
“Don’t fight us on this, I will send some men to destroy the specimen. See you tomorrow, Vic.”

The generals quickly exited the room and Vic was alone. He sat down on the tiny, uncomfortable chair, unable to move or stand.


         DAY SIX


Vic paced back and forth in his lab, a troubled look across his face.
“What’s going on, Vic?” Johnny asked, walking through the door, “There are some army guys outside.”
Vic simply sat down, leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
“They’re coming,” Vic said in a monotoned voice, his words muffled by fingers.
“Who?”
“The army, the military, the generals,” Vic cried, jumping out of his seat, “call them what you want, they’re coming for Michelle! They’re coming to destroy her.”
“Vic, maybe we should let them,” the Supervisor began, “I mean, if Lucy went nuts, what’s to stop Michelle from going crazy?”
“What! I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“Please, just think about it.”
“Wait,” Vic’s eyes lit, “I…I’ve heard that argument before.”
“What are you talking about?”
“From the generals, I heard that same argument from the generals.”
“The generals? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” the Supervisor argued defensively.
“Yea, and how did they know about Lucy and her attack?”
“I have no idea what-
“You told them! You told them everything!” Vic screamed at the Supervisor.

The Supervisor gave a long pause then spoke, lowering eye to eye with Vic.

“I’m so sorry… I did what I had to do.”
“You told them- you gave away Michelle and Lucy and me! You’ve doomed us all. What did they give you, what was your thirty pieces of silver?”
“My Goddamn Christian conscience! I told them because I had to, because the part of me that’s still human knew it was right. And anyone with half a brain knows it’s a big mistake to let these things run free!”
Vic was taken back by the Supervisor’s words. He was the last person Vic expected to hear those words from.

“You’re wrong,” Vic argued in a low voice.
“Have you thought about it though…maybe they’re right. If Lucy didn’t work out, what makes you think Michelle will?”
“You’re wrong…you didn’t have to give away Michelle or Lucy.”
“She would have gone insane, Vic. Look at Lucy, she’s a murderer. She killed the people that bought her, she killed off an entire city, and what makes you think she won’t kill again? Michelle attacked you, Vic; look at your hand, it's starting all over again! We would have just created another insane murderer if we let it live. It’s in their genes, Vic, part of who they are. They will always be murderers.”
“I changed Michelle, they’re two different people. My hand...it was an accident, she was just startled.”
"Don't rationalize this."
"I fixed the problem! I did everything right! I made Michelle better and I could've fixed Lucy! I just needed some time. I...I did everything right."
"You played God once and you lost!”
“No…” Vic mumbled, shaking his head.
“You paid the price then and you’ll pay again. We should have killed them both. But we still can, we can still right our wrongs. We only need to give in to the army. They will help us, they will liberate us of our sins.”
“You’re talking like a madman.”
“Let it end, let your mistakes go.”
“I won’t let you…I won’t let them. I’ll stop them somehow.”
“Then you have completed your sin. You have accepted your wrongdoing and refused redemption.”
”Don’t preach to me, you’re the one who betrayed me.”
“She deserves to die, Vic. You know it as well as I. If we don’t give them up, we assure our own doom.”
“I will not forsake everything I have worked on for the past decade. I have put too much of my time and my energy and my life into this to give up. I love them and I won’t let you or anyone else hurt them. That’s final. You can’t stop me.”

Lucy entered to find Vic and the Supervisor locked in a cold stare, an air of hatred between them. They ignored her as she entered.

“They’ll be here soon,” the Supervisor whispered, “you can’t run.”
“What’s going on,” Lucy asked.
“The Supervisor sold us out to the army. They’re coming to kill you and Michelle.”
“Well,” Lucy began, “Why don’t you just let them kill Michelle and that’ll be a diversion so you and I can escape.”
“What!” Vic yelled, “you’ve turned on me too?”
“No, no. I’m still on your side. It’s just that you created her once, so why can’t you just do it again?”
“You don’t understand. Michelle was a work of art, she was perfection; I can’t just duplicate that.”
“Well, if she’s so special,” Lucy spoke with a roll of the eyes “why don’t you just kill whoever’s trying to kill her? Hell, I’ll do it for you, just gimme their names.”
“No,” Vic paced back and forth, “this will end peacefully. It has to.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the door was opened and twelve soldiers entered, forming a human made hallway, six on each side, through which the three generals entered.
“I hope we didn’t come at a bad time,” General Bluff hissed, looking at the lab with an expression of disapproval.
“Step aside gentlemen,” General McCarthy ordered, “we’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
“Prepare to administer the poison,” General Bluff ordered the soldiers.

A silver suitcase was produced, out of which a large syringe emerged, filled with a red liquid.
“I know the technology seems old,” General McCarthy smiled, looking at the syringe, “but it was immune to almost all other methods of destruction.”

The twelve soldiers quickly surrounded Michelle’s glass container, pointing their weapons at different people in the lab. The three generals strolled to the glass casing as General White played with the syringe between his bear like hands.

“Please generals,” Vic begged, “you can’t do this.”
“But it must be done, for the safety of the station,” General McCarthy argued, “we must destroy the AX2, and after that, the AR1.”
“No, please,” Vic begged again, “anything, I’ll do anything. I’ll…I’ll start another project; I’ll make another weapon, please just say it. Anything!”
“We have all that we need,” General White said piously.
“And we know what we don’t need,” General Bluff finished his sentence, “this is one of those that we don’t need.”
“No more interruptions, do it,” General White ordered of his comrades.
General Bluff gave a defiant look to General White and removed the safety cap on the syringe.
“Please,” Vic threw himself at the feet of the three generals.
“You,” General McCarthy said pointing to two soldiers, “get rid of him, take him outside and if need be, subdue him.”

“Please, stop!” Vic yelled, but it was to no avail.
The two soldiers dragged Vic kicking and screaming out of the lab. Lucy watched as the doors closed behind them and just as the two doors came together she saw a tear stream down Vic’s cheek.

“They made Vic sad,” Lucy whispered without anyone hearing.
General White approached Michelle’s casing, holding the syringe in hand.
“You made Vic sad,” Lucy said, this time somewhat louder.
“What was that,” General Bluff asked.
“You made Vic sad!” Lucy boomed.
She grabbed a soldier and tore the weapon from his weapon.

Outside Vic waited. He could hear muffled words, frantically spoken, but couldn’t understand what was said. His entire body was covered in a layer of sweat, his hands shook and his expression became a pitiful one. The two soldiers looked down at Vic, who was so distraught that he couldn’t even stand. But when shots were heard, the two soldiers immediately returned to the lab. The doors only stayed open for a second and for that second Vic could only see one thing. He saw Johnny’s face. Johnny was running for the door and in the instant that the door was open, he saw a look of horror in his face. Sparks that seemed brighter than any star reflected off his terrified eyes and that was when he knew that it was all over. That was when Vic knew his work had been for nothing, that it would never work out as he had planned. His hope for the future, for Michelle, they would never be achieved. The two doors slammed shut, sealing Johnny as well as everyone else in the lab.

The sound of muffled gunshots resonated through the walls resembling something like that of rainfall and Vic knew that on the other side of those two inches of metal and plastic, unspeakable horrors were being committed.

In another minute the shots died down and soon there was only silence. Vic could hear nothing from outside the lab and he could only imagine what nightmares he would find behind the doors. He stood and quickly tried to enter, but his access had been denied. He heard distant, but approaching footsteps and as he put his ear to the door to hear better, the doors opened. The first thing Vic saw was Lucy’s innocently smiling face, spotted with blood, beaming at how she had brought justice to his enemies.

He entered, walking past Lucy and saw his now ruined lab. Machinery once worth billions was now nothing more than scrap metal. The computers and TV screens, once an integral part of the lab, were now holes in the wall that emitted sparks. A few parts of the lab were in flames and almost nothing remained intact. But he ignored all this and rushed straight to Michelle. He dodged flames and leapt over mutilated bodies, then kneeled before the glass case. Lucy watched him run to Michelle, an expression of disgust on her face.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he saw the glass casing was one of the few things to avoid being hit during the fight. Lucy looked on sadly, waiting for Vic to pay attention to her.

“Are you ok?” Vic turned to her.
“Yes,” Lucy smiled.
“What happened here…who attacked first?” Vic asked, surveying the damage.
“Well, they took you outside and I got one of their guns and we all starting shooting each other. See?” Lucy pointed to the healing bullet wounds in her stomach and arms. “But your precious Michelle is fine.”
“Good. Now where is he, the Supervisor?”
Lucy shrugged.
“Does it really matter?”
Vic looked around, expecting the Supervisor to lower down upon him, armed with lectures, surprising him like he always did. He even began to think up arguments defending why it was right to keep Lucy alive, preparing to fend off the jolly yet formidable arguments of his friend. But he never came. He looked up and down the lab, and there, frozen halfway between the floor and the ceiling was the Supervisor. He sat in his floating chair, a blank expression on his face as he stared out into eternity, and it must have stared back. His eyes were wide and there were three bullet holes in his chest.

“He’s gone,” Lucy said, apathetically.
“It…it shouldn’t have happened this way,” Vic stuttered, “I never wanted it to happen this way.”
“How else would you have it?”

The sound of distant sirens entered the room.
“What’s that?” Lucy asked.
“That’s…that’s the military siren. They’re calling for troops…they’re calling Fighters. Lucy, they know what happened here.”
Lucy looked around, at the soldier’s bodies strewn across the floor and she saw one putting a radio down.
“You!” Lucy jumped through the air and landed on him. “You called for help!”
“No,” Vic yelled, but it was too late.
His blood coated her hands.

“What? He deserved to die,” Lucy argued. “They all deserved to die.”
“What makes you think you can judge them, what makes you better than them!”
“You did! You made me their judge, you me better than all of them!”
“This can’t be happening,” Vic muttered, shaking his head.
“What’s wrong, you’re still alive, Michelle’s still here, and I’m still here; why the fuck are you still sad?! Why is it that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work and try to make you happy, it always makes you angry. I don’t get it.”
“Listen to me,” Vic began slowly, emphasizing a point, “you can’t kill people.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong, you’re wrong for doing it.”
“It’s not wrong, I’m right about this. I am better than them.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think, you can’t do it!”
“This isn’t a thought… I know this is true, 100%.”
“You can’t possibly-
“Whatever, agree to disagree,” she spoke ending the argument.
“No- yea…right,” Vic muttered.
“Well,” Lucy sat down and rested her chin in her hands, “they have that syrum that can kill me and Michelle. Do you suppose they have more?”
Vic nodded.
“I have no doubt they’re arming their soldiers with it right now. Only a large dose can kill you, small dose should just slow the healing process.”
“Ha, well the army’s after us now. And the odds are against us too, but hey, there’s no one else I’d rather be in this situation with then you. So what do you say, what’s our plan, we gonna fight them head on or,” she continued with a playful smile, “something more…sneaky?”

Vic was silent, and looked very convincingly as though he might throw up.

“Well,” she demanded, awaiting an answer from him, “what are we going to do. They’re coming for me right now- they know how to kill me. Can we fight them off, what do you think?”
“I can’t do this now. I need to go.”
“Ok, that’s fine, but let’s do this first.”
“I can’t.”
“What,” she yelled, jumping to her feet, “you’re not going to help me!”
“Listen Lucy,” Vic calmed his voice, “I can’t do this anymore. I…I made a mistake and I can’t keep on reliving that mistake. I have to stop helping you.”
“Please, just this last time.”
“No,” Vic said, “I’m leaving and you should do the same.”
“What…no!”

Vic exited the lab and quickly walked down the hallway toward the transporter.
“Please,” she begged, her eyes swelling with tears, “just come up with a plan, you’re the smart one here.”
“I’m sorry,” Vic stepped into the transporter.

Lucy reached out to grab him, but only touched air as he disappeared in a quick flash of light. She fell to the floor and lay there, crying, her hand still outstretched.

































         DAY SEVEN


Vic returned to the lab half an hour later, having taken time to set his head straight. Lucy had left and it was now empty save for the bodies. He stared at the console, as the clock in the corner of the screen flashed 1:26 am, and he could only repeat what he had been saying for the past few minutes,
“May God have mercy on my soul for the sin I have unleashed.”

Vic dropped down in his chair, his head resting in his arms, which were on the table in front of him. He remained motionless, even though he heard the door slide open and the single footstep that followed.
“Why are you here?” Vic asked with muffled words.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said quietly, as if interrupting a church's mass.
“You’ve done terrible things and now you must pay.” Vic mumbled, remaining motionless.
“I…I need your help.”
Words were not necessary for her to know Vic’s response.
“Please,” she begged loudly.
“He was right,” Vic trailed off, “that son of a bitch was right all along.”
“Please…”
“You just don’t understand,” Vic said slowly.
“Then tell me so I can understand. Tell me what I don’t understand, tell me what I can do to fix this, tell me why you won’t help me!”

Vic suddenly jumped up and looked deep into Lucy’s eyes. His trembling, waterlogged eyes looked into Lucy’s cold, exotic eyes. She flinched at the action, moving back, but her eyes remained just as strong; and for a second she seemed to understand, she seemed to comprehend what she had done and what was going to happen.
“I can’t help you… you’re a murderer.”
“I’m sorry for that,” Lucy apologized, looking away, “but I still need help and you’re the last person that can help me. They’re going to kill me, they- they found a way to do it. You saw the syringe! You were trying so hard to save me earlier, what changed?”
“You were a mistake.” Vic said coldly as he sat down. “I agree with them now. It’s all my fault, and now I can see that.”
“Please,” Lucy begged, getting on her knees before Vic.
She rested her head in Vic’s lap like a dog begging for the love of its master. Her long, silky black hair covered his thighs.
“Please,” she sobbed, shaking her head and crying.
“Lucy...”
“Yes,” she lifted her head, looking into Vic’s stern face.
“It’s time for you to leave.”
A look of shock came over her face.

“But…no, no, you have to help me.”
Vic got out of his chair, forcing her off him and turned away.
“I want you out of the lab. I’ll give you thirty seconds before I call the police with your whereabouts.”
“But, but…”
“Good bye, Lucy.”
“You have to help me!”
“You now have twenty-seven seconds.”
“But-
“Get out! Get out, just...go! Get out of my sight!”

Lucy turned away slowly and sadly, his words like daggers.

“I’m sorry I failed you,” she whimpered.
Vic remained as strong and silent as a statue, unforgiving and uncompromising. Lucy’s slow and even footsteps echoed off the metallic walls of the lab as she walked. She lowered her head, hiding her tears. And as she walked out, her left hand grazed the little wooden trinket Vic had bought for her. It was sitting on the edge of a desk. She stopped and turned her head to look at it. It was really quite magnificent, with craftsmanship unique to anything she had ever seen. She picked it up and gently ran her fingers along the wooden surface, feeling every crevice of the wood. She lovingly caressed it, letting the engraved curves and designs guide her fingers. Then without second thought, with the transformation of a dark room into a light one, she turned and threw it as hard as she could, her face one of contorted hatred as the trinket rolled off her fingers.

The lab, for a split second, for a brief existence in time became quiet and still. Everything froze; there were no fires and no bodies, no walls or machines, just Lucy and Vic. There existed only two beings in the entire universe, and for that half a second that was all that mattered, all that there was and would ever be. In that split second Vic saw Lucy for what she really was, and realized he still loved her. He still loved her eyes no matter how cold they could be. Then, through the stillness, that dead silence in the frozen air, a single whisper…

“Oh no…”

Vic crumpled to the ground, a single groan escaping him as he lay there. The wooden trinket now cracked, rolled away from Vic and hit Lucy’s foot. Her horrified gaze met the broken trinket and followed the thin trail of blood it left all the way back to Vic’s head. Lucy stepped back, gasping in terror at what she had done.

Her eyes widened as she froze in a blank stare, struck dumb by what she’d done. It was as if what just happened was so atrocious, so disgustingly awful that there was no way her mind could possibly register it as reality. Then suddenly it hit her; like a bullet to the throat, it hit her. Her face quietly wrenched, teeming with all the painful loss in the world and she screamed. It was a terrible, blood-curdling scream, a long, primal shriek thick with such horror that it hung in the lab long after it was silent. And she dropped to her knees, shaking her head and screamed again and again and again, until she fell to the floor, kicking and attacking it as she lay there. Tears ran like rivers then and in the consuming darkness- echoing screams of agony and loss were all that existed in the world.

Lucy was now alone in the destroyed lab. Distant sparks and the sound of flames were her only comfort. Death and sadness surrounded her, destruction above her and a forlorn love below her.

She slowly walked toward Vic, half expecting him to awake any second, to complain, to whine, to yell, to scream and curse at her. She knelt down beside him, her now dry eyes looking at him in disbelief.
“Good bye,” she gently whispered, leaning over Vic’s face, “I- I’ll miss you…”
She lowered herself upon him, kissing his still warm lips. Tears suddenly streamed down her face as she finally got the kiss she had always wanted. She stayed there, her dark eyes and her red lips hovering over Vic, waiting for him to wake. She stayed, waiting to feel his breath on her face, to see his eyes flutter, to feel his arms embrace her one last time. She waited for anything, any sign of life. But nothing happened. Finally, she moved away, eyes lowered, face no longer in a smile. Lucy stood up, looking for an exit with her now lifeless, dispirited eyes.

“They’re going to kill me,” Lucy muttered to herself, trying to make herself care, “…have to…have to do something.”

She moved around the lab, avoiding Vic's body, not really caring what she bumped in to or broke. Suddenly she heard the officer’s metallic boots hitting the hollow plastic floor in the hallway outside the lab. She could hear them kicking in the door down the hall, searching every room one at a time.

All of a sudden the life returned to her, and she realized she had to survive. Lucy frantically looked around the lab, panic in her every move. Her hands shook and sweat dripped down her forehead. Her heart beat quickly and out of her control. Her breath quickened and suddenly she felt it. Her entire body wrenched forward, throwing her to the ground, and vomit spewed from her mouth. And as she lay there on all fours, spitting the last of the contents of her stomach out of her mouth, she saw it. It was clutched tightly in one of the general’s hands. It was as if were meant for her, like an unopened present, a gift just for her.

She placed her hand on the file marked confidential in big bold letters, and gently pried it from his cold, dead hands. She opened it, and as she moved her hands through the papers, her distressed expression disappeared, replaced by wide eyes and a mischievous crooked smile that fit her so well. Lucy looked to the door as the sound of the footsteps outside permeated through it. She quickly searched for an escape. Just as she saw the tiny window in the far end of the lab, the door was kicked in.

Four armored police officers entered the doorway, each aiming their rifles at her.
“Get on the ground and put your hands behind your back,” one officer ordered.
“Don’t worry, love.” Lucy whispered to Vic’s body, lowering to the ground while eyeing the officers, “I’ll make them pay. I’ll make them all pay for what they did to you, every fucking one of them…but not now.”
“Oh my God,” another officer exclaimed, walking into the room.
The officer that just arrived, removed her mask and threw up in the doorway. Lucy took the chance of distraction and made a sprint toward the window. After two quick steps, the lab erupted in a flurry of destruction as the officers fired their weapons. Lucy jumped for the window, rolled into the fetal position and crashed through it. The officers ran to the broken window and saw Lucy limping through the busy streets three stories below them, a thick trail of blood behind her.

One officer quickly took aim, about to fire, but another placed his hand on the gun.
“No, too many bystanders,” he said through his mask, “we’ll catch her later.”
The officer was reluctant to lower his weapon, but did so eventually. Lucy quickly hobbled away, taking one last glance at the broken window that now seemed a world away.

* * * * *

Gray, artificial rain poured down from man made storm clouds, falling onto the people of the dome. It always made the city appear lifeless and drab. The artificial rain washed what was in the streets into the darkness of the drains. She sat in a metallic gray alley, huddled over herself, shivering as the cold rain poured down on her. A dark red puddle surrounded her and as the rain continued to rush past her, the blood and the water became one, filling the entire alley floor with a long, thin streak of red. She sniffeled, her tears flowing like the rain, saliva dripping from her distraught mouth. She clutched the folder against her chest, ignoring the fact that nearly half the papers were covered in her blood that ceased to stop flowing. As she sat on the unforgiving floor of the alley, she whispered to herself in a delusional tone, her voice fading in an out through tears.
“I tried to help Vic, tried to make him happy, tried to be a good girl, but everyone dies. I don’t understand why… I- I mean everyone dies; everyone just always dies. But now I know, I finally get it, I understand my purpose in this world.”

She suddenly forced her tears to stop. Shortly afterward, she opened the bloodstained folder with shaking, anticipating hands, and as the rain beat down upon her relentlessly, she found the location of the Fighter. She stood, tossing the folder aside. And as her eyes became cold and her tears swept away, she walked down the street, a single gray silhouette caught in the rain.

* * * * *

Lucy walked through the military facility. No one gave her trouble; anyone who could was out patrolling the streets. She passed through unguarded metal doors until she soon arrived at the two doors she was looking for. With the three generals dead, there was no longer any stability in the military, no one knew what they were supposed to do. It was like taking candy from a baby.

The large doors slowly opened as the motors behind them hummed. Lucy tilted her head back, looking at the Fighter as it came into view. The Fighter stood 30 stories tall, its black armor shimmering in the light. Dark red curvatures ran up and down its body, giving it the appearance of flames. The head portion of the Fighter had a large, wicked smile painted on it, which made it look very similar to the iniquitous grin on Lucy’s own face. Two neon blue, triangular slits illuminated and were like eyes that stared down on Lucy.

“Very good,” Lucy coaxed, “now bow…”
The hangar filled with echoing sounds of twisting, screeching metal as the Fighter lowered on both knees before Lucy. She could only smile at the action.

* * * * *

Lucy stared out from the Fighter’s cockpit. The dome of the space station was now miles away and no more than the size of a fist. But there were magnified images on a screen before her, zooming in on the people of the dome. She sat back in the chair of the cockpit, the seatbelt holding her in against the absence of gravity. Her hair floated beside her, and she was like medusa with a thousand black serpents moving and bending to their own individual will. She leaned forward as the screen before her zoomed in more.

“I had a perfect life once...” she muttered to herself. “I wasn’t alone, wasn’t burdened with this purpose; I had people who loved me. I was…I was happy, wasn’t I? Now look what it’s become. I’d trade anything... I’d give anything to get them back: Vic, Annabel, Frank, even Richard… I did love you, Richard; in those last seconds, I really did love you. I wish…I wish I could be like you now, Richard, and die. But what about my purpose, who’ll do it if I’m gone?”

She zoomed in further, spying on each individual person.

“Look at them,” she hissed, her eyes scanning the people on the screen before her, “so busy living their perfect little lives. I bet they complain about what they have. I bet their women complain about their husbands. And the men, I bet they envy so many others, not realizing what they really have. Disgusting… No, normal, that’s what they are, normal.
Almost, ha, almost, kind of wish I was like them… Almost wish I was- normal; you’re not alone when you’re normal. I wonder what it would be like, if I was a normal girl. Maybe I could’ve gotten a little boyfriend and an apartment somewhere. I could’ve gotten a job at a lemonade stand. They have those, right? He- he would propose to me a year after we met. It was beautiful, a candle lit dinner in the backyard, wine and caviar, the whole nine yards; though I never really cared for those things- but it was such a nice gesture, the envy of all my friends. Of course I said yes. I quit my job at the lemonade stand; though it was lucrative enough I wanted to stay home with the kids. A beautiful girl and two rowdy little boys. They were constantly getting into trouble, my two little men, but then again, boys will be boys. I worried about the girl though, always playing by herself, fussing over her looks, poor dear couldn’t hang onto any friends. She was always so snooty, what with her perfect little face and all, thought she was just the best thing God ever created. I fixed her though, took her into the kitchen one day and cut her face up with a cleaver, never had to deal with her vanity again.”

Lucy suddenly lifted her head and looked at her reflection in a monitor. There were eight deep, vertical gashes beginning just under her eyes and ending at her chin. She looked down to her hands and caught under each fingernail, were folds of removed flesh dripping with blood. She looked back to the monitor and the gashes were gone, replaced by a perfect face, placid and unbothered.

“That’s the difference, isn’t it…” she spoke, staring at her reflection. “Their pain stays on their bodies. Beatings and burns, fists and fingernails…their scars stay. I want… I want scars…”
A slow chuckle emanated from her as she hunched over herself, putting her hands to her face. She dragged her fingernails over her face again, gently feeling where the gashes had been, feeling only perfectly smooth skin where blood and scars should be. She left thin red trails from the blood that was already on her fingernails.
She laughed louder and louder as she touched her face, until she was violently rocking back and forth, struggling against her seat restraints, screaming instead of laughing. Then suddenly she froze, pupils darting back and forth untrustingly, her eyes as wide as they would go.
“What’s happening to me…” she asked, fully expecting an answer.
“Am I going to go crazy again? Like before? I…I killed a lot of people back then. I, well…I became evil. Not again… No, no, I’m fine- I’ll be fine. Just need to fulfill my purpose, then I’ll be ok.”

Her composure returned as she watched the people on the screen. She studied them like an artist does a muse, leaning in close to look at each person’s facial features. She looked absorbedly at the scenes as she spoke to the computer, allowing their lives to distract and calm her.

“Prepare yourself, machine, we’re gonna go to work soon.”
“Preparing to arm system.” The computer’s voice responded.

Lucy looked back to the scenes before her.

On a park bench a young woman sat with her head in her hands, crying, as an older man and a younger man screamed at each other before her.


“Auto Aim Armed.”


A mother held her son’s hand as they walked down a sidewalk. A homeless man jumped out from behind a corner, hands forming a bowl and mouth moving fast. The mother quickly turned and walked the other way, her nose turned upward with child close by her side.


“Shoulder canons armed.”


A group of school children were uniformly escorted across the street. An old man waved to an adorable little, dark haired girl in the group. She vigorously waved back with a smile that shined like Christmas.


“Missiles armed.”


Two boys threw a young girl to the ground and to her protest, stole her backpack. A third boy, without a second thought, tackled the one holding the backpack and a fight ensued.


“Electromagnetic radiation armed.”


A scruffy looking man and woman sat on a park bench. The man leaned in with a devious grin, whispering something, when suddenly the woman reared back and slapped him. An old lady passing closely enough to hear slapped him as well.


“AGD Canon armed.”


A large crowd had formed in the middle of a park with instruments playing off to the side. In a corner sectioned off by beautiful pink and white rope, two superbly dressed people danced, leaving everyone else to stare, either in awe or envy.


“Rail gun armed.”


A young girl hysterically wept in the street over the crushed carcass of her pet dog. The driver of a car, a man in suit and tie, handed her one twenty dollar bill after another, but couldn’t even get her attention


“Coil gun armed.”


An attractive young couple with light tan skin, dark hair and dark eyes moved down the street. With hands embraced and eyes entranced by each other’s, they ignored their set path. The two bumped into another couple and suddenly all was of smiles, familiar hugs and hearty handshakes.


“Level 7 biochemical weapons armed.”


Lucy stared forward, face intensely serious, and eyes locked, unwavering as they held back so many tears.


“System fully armed.”


She continued to look at the people and suddenly she broke down. Tears streamed from her eyes entirely uncontrolled, floating off in every direction. She cried out loudly, screaming and wailing, choking on her tears, putting her trembling hands to her face.

“I didn’t want this!!” She screamed, eyes closed tight and mouth open wide as it would go. The same monitor she saw her reflection in suddenly cracked and shattered. “I never asked to lose my fucking conscience, to have power over machines, to be able to rip a man in two! I never asked for it… I- I don’t want it! I don’t want to be different! I don’t want these powers, this purpose! Not if it means being alone forever, killing everyone I love! But- but look at them,” her tears began slowing now, “they’re just like me, aren’t they? They’re sad; they have emotions and they question them. They have their own conflicts and problems. They- they know pain and death and loss. I-maybe I was wrong… maybe they’re not so bad after all. I mean, we’re the same…the same thing, aren’t we? …They- they don’t have to die. No one has to die ever again, no one has to be alone ever a- NO!” Lucy suddenly looked at the young couple again. “They are nothing like me. They’re not hopelessly alone. None of them will ever know the burden of having to destroy everything they love. They know nothing… They are nothing! I’m better than them… Vic made me better than them. They’re vermin compared to me, parasites! So what if I’ll be alone, at least I won’t be one of them!”

Lucy shook off the tears and quickly dried her eyes.

“Fuck it, fire everything.”

* * * * *

Michelle was violently awoken when a large series of cracks ran up and down her glass casing. A fierce tremor went through the entire ship and everything she knew shattered. Her entire body was thrown through the glass casing and she landed on her stomach in the middle of the now dark lab as glass fell around her. She opened her bright blue eyes, frantically peering into the darkness. Brushing the glass off with her hands, her wounds healed before any blood could even escape. She pushed her weak body to her hands and knees, crawling over bodies and debris. One light in the distance stayed on and would only flicker every few seconds, allowing her the horror of knowing who she was crawling over.

She crawled for several seconds in the darkness, then suddenly froze, eyes wide and jaw slowly dropping. She saw Vic lying perfectly still, frozen in time with the flickering shadows playing off his terrified facial features. She forced herself to her feet and ran to him, legs moving out of synch, and arms doing their best to keep her balance. She stopped above him and dropped to her knees. She pushed herself closer to him, her eyes watering as they took in the gravity of it all. Michelle sat up straight and moved his fractured head in her lap. Lovingly, she cradled Vic’s head as she ran her fingers through his blood soaked hair, petting him as her tears ran down, onto his face.
“It’s ok,” she whispered, gently stroking his head.
She carefully crossed his arms over his chest, closed his horrified eyes, and laid him on his back, making him look as peaceful as he ever had. She leaned forward and softly kissed his forehead, hovered there for a few seconds, then stood. Vic’s blood had stained the entire front of her body. She moved to the door and stopped just before arriving to it, and slowly turned around, taking one last look at Vic’s final resting place.
“Farewell father.”

Michelle emerged at the dome. She exited the space station and came to a world of destruction. Buildings that once stood so tall were now rubble. Shops and friendly stores were now smoldering debris. Light poles were melted and bent, contorted into odd shapes. The dome had been decimated and the entire station had been deserted, save for that of corpses. She looked around, confused at her surroundings and saw it was no longer in space.

The station had fallen and now floated on the ocean. She looked at her surroundings, seeing what she had never seen before, Earth. She saw perpetual water in every direction and a sky that hung so carefully above her. She saw bright red and orange clouds with the fading sun illuminating them from behind. The water sparkled in the dimming sunlight and she felt a cool ocean breeze run through her light golden hair. Then, through the gentle sounds of the ocean, the waves, and the wind, she heard a loud boom like that of God’s vengeful footstep, followed by the screaming of a jet engine so powerful that it muted everything else. She looked up to see a streak of white smoke left behind as a large, black Fighter flew through the clouds. It flew down toward the ocean with unfathomable speed, going so fast that it created large waves in its wake yet staying over a mile from the ocean surface. The space station rocked back and forth as the large waves struck it. The Fighter performed a dazzling spiral then stopped a few hundred meters before Michelle and levitated there, staring at her.

Micelle stood without fear, her eyes focused on the Fighter above her.
“Why did you do this?” Michelle asked telepathically.
Lucy leaned back in the cockpit and responded not with words, but by charging the Fighter’s plasma canon. Lucy took aim and rested her finger on the trigger.
“You’re trying to scare me,” Michelle said, once again using her mind to do so.
“You should be,” Lucy used the speakers on the Fighter. “Oh, and it was purpose, that’s why I did it; you disappear without that, you know.”
“I used to be scared of you,” Michelle began, disregarding Lucy’s words. “That’s why I didn’t want to wake up; I just wanted to stay in the dark place, all alone. I always forced my body to have a seizure when I awoke, that way they would always put me back to sleep. I wanted to stay that way, forever…
“I always knew you were a coward.”
“Let me finish,” Michelle demanded coldly, “I wanted to sleep and pretend you didn’t exist. But you wouldn’t let me, you got too out of hand, killing everyone and everything on some kind of power trip, calling it your damn purpose; so now I have to stop you. I can’t sleep anymore, not until you’re stopped. I won’t be ignorant to your destruction anymore. You killed Vic, my only family, you’re gonna pay, bitch.”
“Oh, Ha ha… bring it on!”

Michelle stared back at the Fighter’s wicked grin as Lucy smiled wide and pulled the trigger. The force of the weapon threw Lucy’s Fighter back nearly half a mile. A bright blast of light stormed down onto Michelle, but with a simple wave of the hand, she took control of the Fighter’s guidance systems and sent the blast toward the sky and off into space.
“You’re cheating,” Lucy mocked, still smiling.
“Stop this, you’re not a child.”
“Stop? I thought you were going to make me pay, or was that whole bitch thing just your mouth getting you into more trouble than you can handle?”
“I’d rather do this as peacefully as possible.”
“Peacefully!? Then why do you oppose me? You can’t stop me without fighting me. And how can you fight me without hurting me? How do you call me a bitch and then tell me I’m going to pay one second, then ask to resolve things peacefully next?”
“Don’t make me hurt you, Lucy.”
“You’re prohibited from stopping me by your perceptions that say hurting is wrong. It’s so unbelievably stupid, it makes no sense whatsoever- it’s just like Vic’s want to save everyone, it’s impossible.”
“Quit making excuses and stop this right now.”
“Make me.”
“Then I’ve no choice.”
“I guess not…”

Michelle raised her hands toward the sky, summoning up all the strength she possessed. The space station beneath her began to rasp and creak. Deep within the station, the bowels screeched and groaned like that of a starving giant. And slowly the entire station began to shake. It shook to the point where the remaining glass portions of the station cracked under the pressure and the water became choppy and violent, and then it abruptly stopped.
“That’s it?” Lucy mocked.
Suddenly one of the station’s quarter mile landing docks rose out from the ocean and plummeted down on Lucy’s Fighter. It came down like a flyswatter of the gods, creating a storm in the water that flooded half the station. The Fighter hardly flinched before it was crushed.

The turmoil in the water began to calm and the waves soon died. Michelle looked through the dark blue, debris spotted water, hoping that it would be over, comforted at having some peace restored around her, however temporary it might be.

It was proven more temporary than she had expected, as almost immediately, a series of violent bubbles appeared half a mile from the station. The area around the bubbles turned bright yellow and Lucy’s Fighter burst out of the water. It soared high into the sky, glistening in the sunlight. Lucy’s Fighter roared through the atmosphere, disappearing as a speck in the clouds within seconds; and when it was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds red and orange, thousands of little yellow bullets flew down from the sky. Michelle did nothing, she simply let the onslaught strike her. When the smoke cleared, she was completely unharmed.
“You can’t hurt me,” Michelle spoke confidently.
“Yea, yea, we both heal, I know the story.”
“I do much more than that.”

Michelle outstretched her hands and the few remaining buildings were suddenly uprooted and given flight. They soared into the sky with speed matching Lucy’s Fighter, and suddenly they were battering rams. Lucy fired turning them to dust.
“What else you got, sister?” Lucy laughed.
“Don’t call me that…”
“Fine! We won’t even talk then!!”

A thunderous rumbling permeated through the sky again as Lucy’s Fighter soared down from the clouds preparing for another attack. The reverberating noise of engines came from deep within the station and for miles around, the ocean became choppy with waves. And slowly, the space station began to rise, lifting itself out of the water. The engines beneath the station struggled as they raised the metal behemoth above the ocean. The intense roaring of Lucy’s engines was but a squeak compared to the overpowering sounds produced by the station.

Lucy flew circles around the station, constantly firing at it, creating thousand of tiny little explosions and making large pieces fall back into the ocean. Michelle sent chunks of the station off as projectiles aimed at Lucy, who dodged and spun in beautiful twists and turns that looked so much like her hair in the wind; but even if the makeshift weapons hit, it was to no avail. The armor on the Fighter seemed impermeable to almost any attack. Michelle raised her arms and created what seemed to be an earthquake as a large split appeared beneath her feet. She sent the schism throughout the entire station. The crack widened under the pressure Michelle was putting on it, until eventually, she split the station in two. There were now two parts of the station floating separately in the air, hundreds of feet above the ocean. Lucy continued to fly around the two parts of the station, constantly firing, destroying it bit by bit, causing tons of metal and debris to fall to the ocean.

Michelle waited for Lucy to show off, she waited for her to do what her careless nature ensured would happen. It would only be a matter of time. Michelle watched, taking some cover from the fire until it happened. Lucy spun and soared into the sky like some angelic acrobat; then when she was over a mile above the station, she dove down toward it, firing on it. With her weapons blazing, and the Fighter spinning and spiraling, she flew in between the two parts of the station and Michelle took action. Michelle forced both parts of the station back together with Lucy in between them. The sound of metal crashing against metal with the force of massive 50 ton engines behind them filled the air, creating a sound like that of a thousand train derailments. Michelle, covering her ears, leapt off the station and looked back at the dying wonder. While falling toward the ocean, she activated the self-destruct and the entire thing exploded. As Michelle hit the water, she looked up and from under the surface, and saw the most brilliant flash of colors she had ever seen. First the entire sky and all the ocean below it filled with a great light blue, so strong and pure it could convince anyone that no other color in the world existed. It was followed by long, stringy lines of yellow that set in slow, but quickly widened and devoured the blue. Then finally a dark red took over, a sickening bloody crimson that in the course of seconds transformed into every shade of red imaginable. And as the last of the ship exploded, everything turned a bright white, bright as clouds on a clear day, bright as sunshine.

Michelle swam down, deeper into the ocean as large chunks of metal fell from the sky. The flaming debris fell like rain, and as it hit the ocean it disappeared, creating steaming waves in its wake.

The main core of the station could be seen through the falling wreckage. It was a neon blue orb that had a diameter of about twenty feet. It fell sluggishly, as if time had been slowed somehow. As the last of the station had hit the ocean, the core touched the water, boiling much of the surface in an instant. But it too disappeared beneath the mysterious shifting blue waves of the ocean and was forgotten like a bad dream. Michelle floated on the now warm water as small waves pushed her back and forth. Parts of the station that were buoyant and still intact, floated to the surface. She grabbed onto part of a couch that floated nearby.

Then in the sky, before the flaming red clouds, she saw it. It was only a tiny speck, but it fell like a stone. Lucy’s Fighter, now mostly destroyed, dropped from the sky. It hit the ocean surface and at first seemed to struggle against it, but it became still as the waves rocked it back and forth. The chest cavity of the Fighter floated while the detached limbs sank into darkness. Michelle swam toward the Fighter, weaving her way in and out of the floating obstacles before her. It was a few minutes before she reached it, and she could hardly be sure what she’d find inside. She climbed up the side of the destroyed Fighter and sat on top of it as it swayed, caught in the current of the ocean. She turned the melted, charcoal black surface of the Fighter into her throne, hugging her legs against her chest, comfortably resting her chin on her knees as she looked out to the sea. She sat quietly, contemplation written in her eyes. She considered if it was right to destroy the ship, probably killing any remaining survivors, or if it was right to get into a conflict with Lucy. But there were no answers, no rights and wrongs, what was simply was.

Her silent thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an airlock being broken. A loud wisp of air flowing out of the Fighter was heard as a small hatch opened. Michelle watched as Lucy’s partially burnt and furiously shaking hand reached out of the Fighter and slowly pulled herself up. Michelle didn’t move, she sat there, still hugging her legs, intently watching the distant sunset. She heard Lucy’s heavy breathing as she rose from the Fighter; she could hear the rage on her breath, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see the metal pipes that jutted out from her torso. Most of her body was hideously crisped and black as charred ashes. She struggled to stand as she held a three-foot metal pipe in her hand, using it for support to make up for her severed right leg. A frightening anger appeared on Lucy’s black, mutilated face as she pulled the pipe back. Just as she was about to swing it against Michelle’s head, Lucy fell and the pipe hit the Fighter making a loud clang then rolled off the side into the ocean. Lucy dropped beside Michelle with a loud cry as her wounds began to heal themselves. They healed sluggishly, painfully slow. She made a loud groan as she forced herself up and sat beside Michelle. She was about to attack her again, still ignoring the debris that jutted out of her body, but saw that Michelle didn’t care, she just sat quietly, looking out to sea. Lucy looked on in surprise at how she really didn't care that she might be attacked any second. Lucy slowly turned her head and looked to the scene that Michelle seemed so focused on.

“So, what happens now?” Lucy asked, casually pulling a thin piece of metal from her left eye socket “Do we fight again?”
Lucy held the jagged metal tightly in her fist, awaiting Michelle’s decision.
“No, no we won’t do that, not now.”
“Ok.” Lucy relaxed and laid back, tossing the jagged metal over the side as she pulled more debris from her flesh. Black flakes fell from her burnt body as her skin repaired itself, exposing the beautiful woman that she really was. She looked at Michelle who held a small piece of shrapnel in her hand. She delicately twisted and turned it over with her fingers, not really looking at it.

“Then what do we do?” Lucy asked, “I was pretty fixed on the whole fighting thing.”
“I don’t know what we do…”

There was a pause between them as the sounds of the waves hitting the destroyed Fighter filled the air. Michelle turned to Lucy, her eyes calmly locking onto her, unwavering in their study of her.

“What?” Lucy asked, nervously.
“Nothing,” Michelle spoke quietly, her eyes not flinching.

Michelle had blues eyes brightened with all the innocent fascination of a child. They would look around, constantly seeking, searching for invisible answers that only she could see. Her eyes were intimidating in this way, there was no hint of internal conflict; they looked outward and didn’t care what onlookers thought. One could look at her and not feel threatened, but feel as if studied, as if she were reading and looking through a person’s gaze, looking into their heart and soul, seeing past all emotional barriers. To look into her eyes was to allow one’s flaws and fears to become real and reflected back in her bright cerulean eyes so that a person could look into them and see their real self, who they truly were inside and out.

“What?” Lucy demanded again, growing tense within Michelle’s gaze.
Michelle turned away, looking back to the ocean.
“Nothing…”

There was a silence again. Lucy looked back and forth between Micelle and the ocean, confused at what had just happened. However, the curiosity was overridden by need for conversation.
“That was a nice little strategy you had there,” Lucy complimented.
“Thank you,” Michelle replied modestly.

Michelle and Lucy sat back, enjoying the scenery and the silence. Lucy leaned forward, now entirely healed, her dark hair moving like a shadow in the wind, and spoke.

“I heard a story once, from this friendly old man. He said there was a scientist and a nun in the middle of the desert. And they’re walking and it’s hot as hell out and there’s no one around and they have no water. So the nun starts to lose it and she starts hallucinating and she sees Jesus and she sees God, and she cries out ‘Oh Lord, save me from this desert.’ So she runs out into the desert chasing after her Lord. The scientist on the other hand stays because he wants to conserve his energy and he knows that a ship will find him. Well, he waits and he waits and two days pass and he’s nearing death and just as he expected, a ship comes down from the heavens and saves him. So as it lifts the scientist up over hundreds of miles of desert, he sees the nun in the distance, lying face down, dead. The moral of the story is this. These illusions we bind ourselves to, religious beliefs, God, right and wrong, they will conflict us and drag us down into our graves. It is best that we live by what we know and not that which is illusionary. Because these beliefs, these illusions show us what we want to see, not what is real.”
“I see…” Michelle smiled.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because it’s funny. It’s bullshit, but it’s funny.”
“What are you talking about?” Lucy demanded.
“You could have changed that story any way you wanted, because it’s a story, and because the story is so adjustable, it doesn't reflect any truths. Maybe in my version of the story, the nun runs away and finds an oasis and the scientist dies, and that says that there is a god and that only faith will save you, thus changing the entire meaning. Would that have shown as much truth as your story? It could go either way, and would that change your entire method of thought? You can change the entire reality of your universe based on what stories you believe.”
“I would be gullible,” Lucy began with a little smile, “to have a philosophy that changed so easily.”
Michelle gave no response, and simply ignored Lucy. She seemed content looking out to sea when Lucy spoke again for fear of the silence.

“You know when they were creating us, the Supervisor didn’t want us to live eternally. He felt that we would have a greater respect for life if we lived a normal life span. I did a lot of research in these past few years.”

Michelle gave a slight nod.
“You see, they say I kill because I can’t die from their ‘natural causes’ and therefore can’t understand their concepts of life and death. But they’re wrong, I understand death, I kill because I refuse to bind myself to their illusions, their false concepts and perceptions of life.”
“You're lying,” Michelle spoke quietly.
“What are you talking about?” Lucy asked, seemingly offended.
“You're lying to yourself,” Michelle talked quietly, “The only illusion is your excuse, it makes you see life the way you want to see it. It's not a philosophy; it's just a pretext, because you don't want to see the world as it really is. Your excuse for not being moral is that you say it is unfounded and wrong, so you’re unmoral. You don't believe morals are wrong, but you tell yourself you do to justify your actions. You've bound yourself to your own illusion. It can blind you... when you live your life by an excuse and an illusion.”

Lucy sat there, her eyes narrowing on Michelle.
“I'm not wrong, am I...” Michelle playfully teased, a tiny smile appearing on her face, a perfectly symmetrical smile, gleaming with all the lustful beauty of a Greek Goddess.

Lucy was silent, unable to decide if she should react with anger or passiveness. She stayed silent, then leaned back and continued to smile.

“But there is so little difference between illusion and philosophy,” Lucy chuckled, reassuring herself.

Michelle gave a slight nod, then turned her head, focusing on the waves before her, which seemed far more interesting than what Lucy might say.

“You know the Supervisor was always afraid of us,” Lucy began again, her fear of silence overcoming her. “Maybe in the back of his mind he knew he would be killed in that lab someday.”
“He was never afraid for himself though,” Michelle quietly interrupted, “he was always afraid for others.”
“How do you know that?”
“I read his mind,” Michelle didn’t take her eyes off the ocean.
“So you can read any mind,” An excited grin appearing on Lucy’s face.
“Yes.”
“Ok, then I have a question.”
“What…”
“Those three ridiculous generals, what were they thinking just before they died?”

Michelle shuddered and her eyes watered as she remembered the incidents in the lab.
“Well?” Lucy asked, rushing her.
“So much hatred,” Michelle whispered, a tear running down her cheek.
“What was that?”
“General McCarthy was thinking of how he’d never see his two daughters again, General White was thinking of a way he could stop you, save his men, then get all the glory, and general Bluff-
“Let me guess, he wasn’t thinking at all!” Lucy watched Michelle, waiting for her to laugh.
“No,” Michelle continued in a somber tone, “he was thinking about what he was going to do after surviving your attack. It’s sad, he wasn’t able to accept his fate, even when it was right in front of him.”
“I see… So can you read my mind then?”
“Yes.”
“Ok,” Lucy began after a few seconds of thought, “what am I thinking right now?”
“I can read your mind but I won’t.”
“Why?”
“There’s a great deal of darkness within you. I fear that if I viewed your thoughts the darkness might invade my mind as well. There is nothing more frightful than that, losing one’s self darkness.”

A look of horror suddenly came over Lucy, but she quickly covered it up with a look of forced confusion.

“That doesn’t make any sense, I don’t understand,” Lucy quickly lied.
”If you don’t understand then you’ll have to trust me.”
Lucy faked a big sigh.
“I'll never understand you.”

The two looked off into the ocean for some time, sitting in silence as they floated on.
The sun had moved closer to the horizon as the end of a day was coming upon them. Without warning Michelle moved closer to Lucy.
“What are you doing?” Lucy demanded.
Michelle stopped less than a foot from Lucy and looked her straight in the eyes.
“I need to speak to you.”
“Ok…uh, about what?” Lucy asked with more than a hint of suspicion.
“Well, it’s just that I never really got to know you. I mean I’m your little sister, technically. You’d think we’d be closer, that we might actually like each other.”
“Wait- what’s this all about? You said you had to stop me. You said that…you gave the impression that you hated me.”
“I only said I had to stop you. I couldn’t let you man that Fighter, I couldn’t let you kill anyone else. But that doesn’t mean I have to constantly fight you. Look, I think I’m like your family, and I think that puts a certain responsibility on us. I mean now that Vic’s gone, you’re all that I have left. And I’m all you have. We’re supposed to take care of each other, we’re supposed to be there for each other, you know, like sisters.”
“You want to be there for me?”
“Look, I know what happened to you when Vic sold you to Richard. I know everything, what Richard did to you, how he hurt you. I know it’s not your fault that you’re the way you are.”
“What, you…you know?”

Lucy’s face lit with emotion, a tear streaming down her cheek as she listened. Her eyes, for the first time in a long time had real emotion within them.
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry” Michelle spoke softly. “…For every undeserved thing that’s ever happened to you. I’m sorry you killed him…I know you loved Vic, really, I do. And I’m sorry you had to suffer, to watch the people you cared for die. I’m sorry you were so alone. I- I’m sorry for it all.”
“Thank you…” Lucy whispered, her crying eyes lit with a hopeful amazement, “I…I’m sorry too. I really am sorry for all the things I’ve done, for all the people I hurt. I know I hurt you and…I’m sorry.”
“Come here,” Michelle softly requested, opening her arms to Lucy.
Lucy moved forward, eyes closed, about to hug Michelle, when she suddenly felt the cold betrayal stabbed into her neck. Her body went into shock and suddenly the world turned into its opposite, pain became numb, up became down, love became hate; and all that Lucy ever believed abruptly turned to lies making the world a cold, harsh place, barren of anything good.

Lucy opened her eyes and with a traumatized face of disbelief, she turned a shivering, unsteady head to the metal shard that was in the top, center of her chest. She looked at the warm blood that flowed over Michelle’s hand, which secured the shard in place. Her gaze ran up Michelle’s flexing arm, past her shoulder, through her dangling blonde hair, to see two blue approving eyes, tainted with a malevolence and hatred unlike any she had ever seen before. Michelle lifted her head, pushed back her bangs, and as she did, Lucy saw the smile on her face. It was not the shy and reserved smile that was her own, but a grand, wide smile gleaming with all the evils of the world. And as she smiled, she turned the jagged metal, making Lucy scream from the pain, taking a certain glee from the sound.
“We all have the power to blind our creeds with illusions,” Michelle growled, her teeth grinding against one another.

They sat there, staring into each other’s faces for some time. Michelle’s face was frozen, immobilized by hatred, and Lucy’s was blank. Her face was not angry or pain written or devastated, though she must have been overwhelmed by all of these emotions. She just stared forward emptily, as if she were dead inside, as if there were no more reason to fight, no reason to stay alive because now there was no difference between life and death. Hope and love and happiness were elements of dreams now, not meant for the real world.

After some time of silence Lucy spoke softly, more out of obligation than actual want to communicate. Her voice was low now, damaged more in an emotional sense than a physical one.
“This won’t kill me…”
Michelle’s smile widened as it took on a sense of insanity.
“I know,” she retorted happily, her eyes bulging, “but there are other methods.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy asked in a raspy voice, the life returning to her face.
“Blood…life destroying life,” Michelle spoke in a quiet, fascinated tone. “Vic never intended on us meeting, he thought he was through with you by the time he started working on me. And because of this he made a part of us that was entirely incompatible. Do you know what that is?”
“Fuck you…”
“Blood. Mine takes away the healing properties of yours. My blood eats away at your blood, turns it into that of a regular mortal, meaning any wounds given will not be healed. You’re going to be everything you thought you were superior to.”
Lucy looked back angrily, her eyes as defiant and domineering as they ever were. Her mouth suddenly curved in the exotic, crooked smile that was hers alone and she cried out.

“You don’t know me…” Lucy sneered, “What I’ve been through... I’ve survived tanks and machine guns, grenades as well as all your fury. I’ve survived years of darkness, a rebel war and I’ve demolished two metropolitan cities! I’ve killed countless men and women, caused, witnessed and experienced suffering unlike any you could ever imagine. I have been closer to both heaven and hell than you ever will! Who the fuck are you to think you could ever kill me! I am immortal! I am God!”
“You dimwit…” Michelle spoke with a quiet anger, like a tiger about to pounce, “you’re connected with computers, with human life and touch and technology. What you fail to understand is that I am more than human. I am not only connected with man and machine, I am connected with life!”
And as these words escaped her infuriated lips, the sea suddenly erupted in violent storms, the waters fading into turmoil and the darkening skies lit by such a booming, cyclone sized lighting strike that it lit the entire horizon, leaving a stifling darkness in its wake. And Michelle kneeled dominantly over the defeated Lucy, satisfied at her display of power. Michelle looked down into her eyes as dark clouds continued to collect overhead.
Lucy glared back angrily, about to respond with a witty answer, about to argue, about to say something hurtful, to do anything that proved she wasn’t weak, but she couldn’t.

Michelle suddenly removed the shard and with surprising quickness cut a horizontal gash into Lucy’s neck. And as the blood tainted everything, she cut her own wrist, putting the two open cuts together.

“Don’t” Lucy grunted, pushing her away.
“It’ll be over soon,” Michelle growled.
“Stop it!” Lucy screamed, shoving her sister. “I’ll be good! I’ll be good!”
Michelle pushed back, securing her to the ground, struggling to hold the two gashes together. She violently wrapped her good arm around Lucy’s back and held her in a tight, unyielding grip as she knelt over her. Saliva dripped from Michelle’s gritting teeth as her wide, primal eyes took Lucy in their gaze. Lucy squirmed left and right, forward and back, and Michelle gripped harder. Lucy cursed and pushed with both arms, struggling for each breath as she fought with everything she had and Michelle squeezed harder. Lucy forced her hand into Michelle’s face, viciously gouging her fingers deep into Michelle’s eyes, plunging coarse nails into soft skin, turning soft beauty into a gore, but Michelle only squeezed harder. Lucy cried out and began kicking like a frightened child, fighting for every inch and Michelle squeezed harder. Finally Lucy gave up and helplessly wept as she realized she was held in a grasp beyond her control and Michelle squeezed as hard as she could, her muscles quivering and her eyes lighting with a particular sense of satisfaction. And then as Lucy’s adrenaline fueled heartbeat began to fade and death suddenly became a reality, her lips silently worded a sentence.
“It’s not fair.”

Then Lucy stopped. She stopped crying and fighting, stopped everything. Her face became calm, more dead than relaxed. Michelle released her grip, her breath still violent and uncontrolled. She watched as Lucy lay there, her now frozen eyes set in a blank stare.

Michelle stood, wiping the saliva from her mouth and chin. She grabbed Lucy by her long, beautiful black hair with its shimmering waves and enticing contours and she squeezed it tightly in her grip. She pulled it hard, her knuckles white as they held onto the silky black strands. Then with more force than care, she dragged her limp body to the edge of the floating vessel. She tossed Lucy’s body into the water and held onto her hair, keeping her close as she floated there. She looked down at Lucy, holding back the pity in her eyes, stifling her tears.

“And I’m not sorry,” Michelle spoke harshly, a tear streaming down the side of her cheek. “It’s an existential world, and you’re responsible for your own mistakes. You have to live and die with them.”

She released her tight grip on Lucy’s hair and cut open her bowels, causing her to sink. Lucy descended, swallowed into darkness with her deadened gaze looking up, taking a haunting appearance to it. Michelle watched her sink, looking into eyes that stared back, emptiness overrunning them. Lucy sank slowly, her long hair forming a dark halo around her face and her body slowly vanishing, piece by piece given back to the darkness. Michelle watched Lucy until she disappeared beyond the depths of light then moved away from the water, sat back and wept.






         4 million years later.


In a fallen city composed of rusted, mostly dilapidated buildings with vines and wildlife grown amuck, a single building stood untouched. This friendless tower stood in the center of the dead city, and nothing would grow near it. All the plant life stopped twenty meters before the building. Not even rust was welcome on the tower. Even by day, the structure was a mixture of darkness and shadows. Creaks, groans and silent whispers caught in the wind came from the structure. So forbidding was it that not even the birds and critters and insects would approach. Time stopped for that tower, and neither life nor death was welcome. High atop it, in the point closest to the sky was a single space. Inside were ancient items, too old and ruined to identify, but in the center, was a gray cylindrical container standing eight feet tall. And on the ground before it, lying still as if under the foot of some determined ghost, was a single note. And on it, written in the most perfect, black handwriting was a message from long ago, with a signature at the bottom, with the name, Michelle.

It read…

I now look back on those distant events that seem so recent. So painful were they that I have spent a great number of ages trying to forget, to detach myself from the agonizing recollections. But such horrid events never disappear; never vanish quietly into the night as I so often wished they would. I’ve tried to distract myself by doing both good deeds and bad ones, all in fruitless attempts though. They have become a part of me now, who I am, and like it or not, I must accept it. And so I have.

But one thing keeps bothering me more than anything else. One certain idea troubles me more than any of the pain I had to endure. In all the things Lucy said, she did make one good point. “It’s not fair.” I sit in silence and I keep hearing her last words again and again, and every time I hear them they become more true. Because it is true; I don’t think anything about that entire ordeal was fair. Was it fair how much Lucy had to suffer? No. Was it fair that everything she ever loved, she destroyed? Maybe…maybe not. Was it fair that those three generals, those transitory mortals blinded by foolishness had the power to order a being such as Lucy into existence? No. Was it fair what Richard did to her? Absolutely not. Was it fair that I would be solely responsible for terminating my own sister, who I did love with all my heart? No. But then again, who ever said life was fair? I almost wish someone would, just so I could have something to blame, something to get angry at when things don’t go my way.

But I stray from my point, which is this. In my recent deciphering of the events, I finally realized who was at fault; I established a point of blame. I was quite surprised to discover the mastermind behind it all, the one who let it happen, but I am not wrong in my conclusion. And now that I have discovered the one responsible, I find it difficult to go on; for you see the scoundrel, the villain, the demon that oversaw everything… was myself.

The man known as Vic created my mind far superior to Lucy’s or his own. He created mine so powerful that even in the fetus state, I could hear and comprehend…read the thoughts of others. My mind, like a thief in the night, without any will of its own, crept into other minds. For four years I sat asleep in that test tube listening to anyone who would think. I saw their flaws, and their strengths, their hopes and fears, even their nightmares. I knew everything they did. I soon saw the danger in Lucy; I was surprised it didn’t happen sooner. And even though I saw the impending threat, I did nothing. I didn’t wake because I was scared. I was afraid that the hatred in all those minds would turn toward me if I intervened, so I stayed asleep. One might say that stopping Lucy’s destruction was my purpose and I failed at that. I let so many people down because I didn’t act. And now…so much pain and suffering, so much beauty in this world tainted because I stood idly by. My own soul has been permanently blemished not only by my hesitation to act, but also by my giving in to curiosity. I did read Lucy’s mind on that last day of her existence and, a certain darkness did infiltrate my psyche. I sacrificed a small part of who I was to darkness when I did. I don’t think I would have been able to act, to fulfill my purpose, had I not done that; I was too weak. And now, because of my failure, my sin, I know I don’t deserve to live and while it is possible for me to die, I can’t kill myself; it's just part of my genetic code, something my creator made in me that I cannot deny. But if I cannot die, then I will sleep, and thus, will become closer to death. So I will sleep a cold, restless slumber, for it is not a sleep of rest, but one of atonement. I will be awoken in another time and place, far from here, because no sleep is eternal. Whether the demons will be gone when I wake, I cannot say. Until then, I will sleep in my sorrows; I only pray that I will not dream. Perhaps when enough eons have gone by and enough scars have imprinted themselves on my soul, I will see clearly enough to truly live.