From: fjohnson@gandalf.rutgers.edu (Ronin)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo
Subject: Allen's Wrench (part unknown)
Date: 8 Nov 92 22:22:11 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

Hello A.C.C.!

I didn't get to readjust Part 1 yet (couldn't find the modifications),
but I also discovered I've an interlude here, which should give some
insight on what I mean by "high-tech neo-Nazis".

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	"Darrin?"
	She was on the phone, talking with him because she was "in the mood 
for conversation". She asked him, "Do you think I'm a little silly?"
	"It happens to us all at one time or another. I'm sure *I've*
struck you as even sillier at times." He paused, musing over what had
brought her to worry so. "Talk to me, Kate."  
	"I--I got to thinking of you. I thought about how it feels to
be around you.  I thought about how it feels to be in your mind, and
the way you feel under my touch--" 
	"I know; I think of such things too."
	"Do you imagine us...really close...y'know...making love?"
	This caught him totally off guard.
	"Darrin?"
	He just sat there, stunned.
	"Are you there?"
	After about ten seconds, he stammered, "Th--the thought never crossed 
my mind."
	"It kind of came to me by surprise", she sighed. "I just
suddenly thought of us...together in the heat of passion." 
	He tried to imagine himself with her--was it really possible?
He was not really human, but he loved her. Even so, was he "ready"? 
	<Maybe I should tell her the truth.>
	"Kate?"
	"Hmm?"
	"Would you be interested in coming over? I mean just to talk."
Yes, this would be the thing; he'd also fill her in on his mysterious
adversaries.   
	"Maybe you'd come over here."
	<What's it matter?> he thought. "Give me a little time."
	"So you will be coming tonight?" Her voice seemed to have gained some 
enthusiasm.
	"Uh-huh."

	The trip across town was uneventful, until Darrin chanced into
a purple Cadillac about half a mile away from Kate's place. As far as
he was concerned, that was the weirdest paint job he'd ever seen.  
	It didn't occur to him, however, that at the helm of the car
was no ordinary driver. It was the Order's infiltrator, and had just
signaled the base that it had located its target, asking whether to strike.  
	"No", the Chief replied, "just give him the usual."
	The infiltrator looked at Darrin, who wheeled around. "You know what 
time it is?"
	Darrin replied, "It's about quarter to nine."
	The two met with a light. "No, I mean, what *time* it is", the
stranger retorted. "It's about *us*. Don't you think it's about time
we do something about the Man, like 'return the favor'?"  
	Darrin noticed this man was wearing a speckled bow tie, and
was familiar with the political rhetoric of people who, forty years
earlier, wore the same "uniform", and spouted the same lines as this
man. Looking him dead in the eye, he hissed, "If you're talking about
the kind of policy it sounds like you're talking about, 'I don't
*think* so'."   
	No sooner had he said this than did the light change, so he
floored his bike's engine, leaving a loud buzz in his wake. 
	"A Tom to the core", the Chief Minister muttered, having seen Darrin's 
dissing. "Track his ass."

	Darrin was sitting on the couch, awaiting Kate's return from
the kitchen. She emerged, bearing a pair of sodas in tall glasses. He
looked at her tall, curvy form, highlighted by the black biking shorts
she was wearing.    
	"Kate, I have something important to tell you. I'm not like
other guys." 
	"Michael Jackson, _Thriller_", she quipped, sitting next to
him. "Don't tell me *you* turn into a werewolf." 
	He lowered his head. "This isn't easy for me--I...I..."
	She took him by the shoulders, interjecting, "Spit it out!"
	Darrin tensed up, awaiting the impact of what he had to say. "I'm a 
cyborg."
	Kate's eyes met his with a look of disbelief. "You bullshitting me?" 
	She stopped in her tracks, apparently having made contact with his 
mind, and realizing he was deathly serious.
	"Oh my God."
	 "Yes, really." He stood up, as if preparing to illustrate his
point. "The outer shell of my skeleton is a titanium-calcium alloy, my
nervous system centers on a collection of biochips, and my muscles are
micromotor-enhanced."    
	"But--how come I can feel your thoughts, especially when they're about 
me? How is it that you've bonded with me so that I can do that?" She paused, 
gathering energy. "How come you can have emotions at all?"
	"I don't know," he replied, shaking his head. "Maybe my
'father' put that much thought into my operating system. Maybe it's
because my memory is  biochemical. All I know is that I love you, and
I had to get that out." 
	He relaxed. "There was a time when there was no way something
like this would have been allowed to work. I think we should both--" 
	"Whaddya mean not 'allowed to work'?"
	"American society was dead-set against interracial
relationships sixty years ago, but nowadays, they're a commonplace
thing." He sat next to her. "I think we should try to make this work;
it seems to have been doing well so far."    
	He extended a long, cable-like arm to her. She took it,
nodding her agreement. 
	"Tell me, are you capable of...getting physical?" She leaned into him, 
lustrous eyes locking on to his.
	"Yes, but you'll have to show me the way."
	With that, she took him into her arms, gently placing a long,
deep kiss on his lips.

	Darrin mounted his motorbike, reflecting on the previous night. <Now I 
have seen everything.>
	"Darrin?"
	He turned, finding Kate behind her. Instinctively, he coiled an arm 
around her, and kissed her.
	"About last night," she whispered, "thank you. You were good."
	"Thank you", he sighed.Out the corner of his eye, he saw the purple 
Caddy whose driver he insulted the previous evening.
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