Unknown Motives

**Unknown Motives** is a series of books possibly written by Kevo-sama. It is the second longest book in The Nameless Mod, beat only by Twist.

## Text

### Prologue

-Kahlil Gibran

JC Denton pressed the button on the console. It was marked "engage". All three override switches had been thrown, ensuring that once Denton engaged the system it would overload, destroying Area 51, Helios, his nemesis Bob Page, and Aquinas, effectively destroying the global communications network and plunging the world into darkness. With the mere push of a button, civilization as he had known it would end.

What choice do I have? Mankind must start anew.

It took him a moment to remove his finger from the button once it had been depressed. There was a brief silence, and Denton looked over to the crumpled figure of the mechanic that had tried to stop him. Soon, he would become a casualty of the explosion that would tear through Area 51.

At least he won't be awake to feel it.

Alarm klaxons began to sound. A voice came out over the speakers:

"Warning. Warning. Critical power safeties have been disengaged. Please vacate the immediate area."

JC activated his augmented legs, amplifying his speed as he leaped down into the reactor area. Arcs of electricity lit the place up, but Denton simply ran through them. He couldn't take the time to dodge them with the reactors about to detonate. He became aware of Tracer Tong in his presence, speaking to him through his infolink.

*"J.C.... the net's going... the net's going black... J.C.... no more infolinks, transmissions of any kind... we'll start again... live in villages... if you receive this, if you survive, then find us... find us..."*"

"Helios! What's happening?"

"The safety interlocks for the power generator have been disengaged."

"Engage them! Immediately!"

"I cannot. My systems are not interfaced with the generator technology."

"No!..."

Sweat poured from Denton's face, but he knew he couldn't stop. What world lay before him in gratitude for his work here he had no idea. All he knew was that he had to live to see it.

*"Final safety warning. Nominal functional I-levels will be exceeded in three... two... one..."*"

### Chapter One

In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?"
-Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream

He trudged on into the night. It had been hours now. His legs were weak with the strain of running for so long. He had to escape. The lights had all gone out with no warning. Paris, the city of lights, had suddenly become extinguished. It wasn't long before panic set in. He wanted no part in the lootings, the burnings, or the aftermath. Everything was crashing down, and he wanted to be as far away from the impact as possible.

The gates in front of the mansion now towered over him. He drew up as much of his strength as still remained and scaled the iron bars. After sliding halfway down on the other side, his arms could hold out no more and he simply fell. He hit the pavement hard and rolled onto the lawn. The grass was wet, but he didn't care. It was the first time he'd been able to lie down for what felt like an eternity. After a long while, he pulled himself to his feet and forced himself to walk towards the house.

I made it this far. Mother Nature isn't going to finish me off!

The door was ajar. Someone had been here already. He began to wonder if he hadn't been the first person to stumble across this place. Maybe there was a pack of survivors waiting inside, keeping quiet as he approached. Or perhaps the house's owner was still around, searching for the cause of the power outage. Whatever the case, he wasn't about to surrender to an invisible enemy. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

*Nothing but his heart seemed to move, and it did so with much power. He scanned the room, then carefully began to walk down the steps at the front entrance. He leaned around the wall to his left and saw a small room enclosed in glass. There was no sign of any activity. To his right there was a small door that had been left open. Passing through it, he found himself inside a small dining room. Something in the next room caught his attention.*"

Probably got knocked out by the same thing that shut down power in the city.

One more thing he noticed was a strange canister on the floor in front of an opened case. The case seemed to be operated by a keypad mounted on its base. The canister appeared to contain some sort of glowing blue substance. He'd never seen anything quite like it. Stuffing the canister into his coat pocket, he left the wine cellar and continued his investigation of the house.

There was no sign of anyone inside, nor were there any signs that anyone had lived in this house for quite some time. It was quite clear, however, that someone had been through recently, as most of the doors had been left open and many of the house's fixtures had been disturbed. In the larger of the two bedrooms on the upstairs floor, a painting had been pulled up along the wall to reveal a secret compartment. A datacube was the only thing stored within, but its contents meant nothing to him.

Satisfied that he would have at least a few hours' peace in this place, he calmed down and went back to the smaller bedroom. It seemed more comfortable, and there was less of a chance that he would be discovered in there if anyone came by. The only thing unsettling about it was what appeared to be a human skull resting on top of the fireplace. He went to pick it up, but as he moved it the entire fireplace slid over to the left. The compartment concealed behind it was empty.

*After briefly studying the copy of Shakespeare's Richard III sitting next to the bed, he slipped under the covers and closed his eyes. Never before had he felt so exhausted. The comfort of the cleanly made bed was overwhelming, and he was asleep in a matter of minutes. Alone at last, he finally found his peace.*"

### Chapter Two

-Morpheus, The Matrix

He slept blissfully for several hours. It was well into the night before he began to experience nightmares. Every so often he'd open his eyes and see things. First, the dark, unfamiliar room bathed in moonlight. Then, a man standing over him, watching silently. Again he'd wink back into sleep, then his eyes would open once more and he'd be surrounded by men dressed in white coats. Then, machinery. He became aware of attachments connecting him to the machinery, but he could not feel them.

This can't be real. I must be dreaming. What was the old superstition about pinching oneself?

He found he no longer had control of his muscles. Panic overcame him.

Come on, wake up! What's happening?

The last thing he saw before his consciousness sank back into the dark abyss was a man in a white coat standing over him, watching intently.

Upon awakening, he found it incredibly difficult to open his eyes. He was dizzy, and everything seemed quite blurry. Unaware of how long he had lay in bed, he finally struggled to sit up. Promptly, he fell forward, fearful that the world had suddenly spun off balance and was attempting to fling him into some far off region of space. When at last he could see straight, his senses were suddenly overwhelmed by what seemed to be another presence inside his head. As the voice began to speak, he jolted himself upright.

*"Do not panic," the voice said. It was calm, calculating. A masculine voice, one that betrayed much intelligence. "You will recover shortly, I assure you. You will come to the master bedroom now. We must speak in person."*"

How long was I asleep? It can't still be night, that felt like an eternity...

The door to the other bedroom, the larger one, was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he found that this room had been moved as well, the most notable addition being a large sheet of Plexiglas sealing off the third of the room that contained the dumbwaiter. He jumped back when he saw the man standing behind the wall. It was the man in the white coat, the one from his nightmares. A speaker was positioned in the middle of the sheet, the only visible means of contact between the two men.

"I'm glad to see you can walk again, Tiberius," said the man in white. He didn't know how to react, so he said the first thing that came to mind:

"That's not my name," he said. Forcing the words out proved to be a difficult process, and he wasn't sure that the man in white understood.

"Really? Would you care to enlighten me, then, as to what your name actually is?"

"It's...I..." he stumbled on, unable to bring the thought to his awareness. It was then that panic set in once more.

Who am I?

He looked down, acutely aware of the fact that the clothes he was now wearing were not his own. Beyond that, he knew nothing. His name, date of birth, occupation, relatives, phone number...he simply drew a blank.

*"Look, you're going through a lot right now, and it will take some time before the shock wears off," said the man in the white coat. He spoke in an aloof tone, as a doctor would when he must tell a patient for whom he cares little that he is dying. Every word was pronounced. "Now, listen carefully, because there is a lot I have to tell you and I'm afraid that we don't have much time to waste here.*"

"I understand that this is a lot to take in right now," said Carson. "I wish I had the time to properly ease you into this, but I don't. The surgery took longer than expected."

"How long have I been here?" He had been positive that no more than a day had passed since he'd arrived. Then again, his memory was no longer to be trusted.

"Weeks, I'm afraid. The world situation has only deteriorated. Were you aware, Tiberius, that the whole of global communications has become entirely centralized?" Tiberius shook his head. "The hub linking it all together was known as Aquinas. It was located in the United States, in a military installation called Area 51. J.C. Denton destroyed the Aquinas hub. The fallout was cataclysmic.

"You see, every major communications system in the world was part of a global network wired through Aquinas. When the entire network went down, well, nothing worked anymore. Power systems, lights, public transit lines, everything. It all ceased to function." Carson gestured around him. "This is one of the few places on Earth that has any electricity at all. We've built our own network, and none too soon. We knew of the possibility that J.C. Denton would do something like this. We were prepared."

"Where do I come into all this? I mean, I've never even heard of any of this. Why do you need me?"

*"Denton's actions constitute a grave error in judgment. We seek to undo this mistake. Denton acted in order to halt the conspiracy's leader, Bob Page, from merging with an artificial intelligence that would have ruled the world." The name Bob Page triggered a memory in Tiberius's mind. "Wary of Page's plan, we spent years working in the shadows, constructing our own A.I. Now, the time has come that it is necessary to activate it, to restore the global communications network. Unfortunately, our unit is incomplete. We were unable to complete construction before the network went down, and the only way we can finish now is with scavenged parts and equipment."*"

"Ah," said Carson, who suddenly sounded rather impressed. "Some of your memory is still intact. I'm surprised, but pleasantly. This means that the process was more successful than we'd anticipated."

"But why erase my memory? What difference does it make if I know who I am or not?"

Carson became quite serious again. "It was necessary to remove your attachments to the world of yesterday. It would have caused some...complications."

"How so?" Tiberius was finally gaining a clear head, and though very little of what Doctor Carson was telling him made much sense, he was able to focus again on the things he did understand.

"The world you knew before is gone. Whatever happens now, things will never again be the same. I anticipated this, and have been preparing for it for some time now. You, on the other hand, have been thrust into this ‘dark age' with no warning. The shock of realizing what it is you've lost would have taken far too much time for you to overcome. This sounds cold, I know, but it is paramount to the survival of human civilization that we succeed, and we cannot do so without you."

"But...who was I?"

"Don't you see? It doesn't matter!" Carson was becoming irritated, and had trouble suppressing it. "Your old life is gone. I need you to focus, Tiberius. There's too much at stake here."

"Would it hurt that much just to tell me a little? What was my name, what did I do for a living? Something..."

*"All right," said Carson. He paused a moment and collected himself. When he spoke again it was in a much calmer tone. "If it matters that much to you, you were a businessman. A faceless, obedient, oblivious office worker. A nobody. You're valuable to us because of your physical attributes, and your military training. That was helpful to us in selecting the final candidate."*"

"No, no kids. You weren't even married. You were in Paris on business when Denton blew the Aquinas router. It was our good luck that we didn't have to travel halfway across the world to find you."

"What was my name?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not? I can't go around calling myself Tiberius! People will think I'm a weirdo!"

"That's a code name, it's as much for my benefit as it is for yours. For the purposes of our operations I will refer to you as Agent Tiberius. Your real name is unimportant. Something generic, worthless. It's a part of your past life, one that you're going to have to leave behind. Besides, I couldn't tell you if I wanted to. I only know you by your case number."

"Isn't there anything else I should know?"

"The only thing you're doing right now is stalling, Tiberius. Information will be provided as necessary, but right now you must focus on your new assignment. I'm sending you to Japan. There are areas within that country that were not part of the centralized communications network, and we happen to have an equipment broker in Tokyo that may be able to help us. I need you to make contact with him. A translator will accompany you, and he will have a list of equipment needed for purchase."

"You've turned me into a nano-augmented errand boy?"

"It's not as simple as it sounds. Certain groups within the city are not friendly towards us. It will be difficult to reach your contact, but I think this is a good place to start with your training. We'll get a good idea of what you can do."

"And if I refuse?"

*"I kill you."*"

"How? I thought you said I was enhanced," Tiberius said, trying to muster up the courage to face down Carson.

"The nanites inside of you can be sent a signal that will turn them aggressive. This signal is called a kill-switch. Once I activate it, you will be dead within twenty-four hours. The choice is yours."

Tiberius thought for a moment. He still wasn't sure that Carson was telling the truth, but he didn't really want to risk it at this point. Besides, cooperating with Carson seemed to be the only way to pull the world out of its current situation.

"All right," he said. "How do I get to Tokyo?"
"We have a helicopter that can transport you," said Carson. "On board, you will be provided a few basic armaments to ensure that you will be able to deal with any opposition you encounter once you are on the ground. Once in the city, you will make contact with a man named Mr. Omatsu. You may need to go through a few of his lower-level friends in order to reach him. Once there, your guide will commence with the negotiations. It's really a pretty straightforward escort assignment."

"Where's the helicopter?" Tiberius was not very happy with his new profession, but it made no difference. If he died in Tokyo, it would be a quick execution, rather than a protracted, internal decay.

"Just outside the front door. Do you know where you are, Tiberius?" Tiberius shook his head. "This is the Chateau DuClare. The former residence of Beth DuClare, a famous Illuminati sympathizer. A fitting birthplace for our association. Anyway, good luck." Tiberius turned to leave, but Carson stopped him before he reached the door. "Oh, Tiberius? I forgot to mention: Do you remember that canister you found in the wine cellar when you first arrived?"

"Yes."

"That was an augmentation canister, to be used to install a new enhancement. That particular unit contained the nanite programming for what is called the Aggressive Defense System, or ADS. If someone comes at you with an explosive, activate it."

"How?"

*"You'll learn."*"

### Chapter Three

Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole"
-Radiohead, Street Spirit (Fade Out)

When the ground made contact with his foot, it was the most that Tiberius had felt since waking up inside the Chateau DuClare. His energy had mostly been restored, which was hardly surprising considering the amount of time he'd spent sleeping, even if it was drug-induced. In general, he actually did feel stronger, possibly as a result of the surgery. Physically, at any rate. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the events and conversation he'd just experienced.

I've been violated. Drugged, opened up, altered. Or "enhanced", as Doctor Carson liked to say...

"Agent Tiberius," came Carson's voice. Tiberius nearly jumped out of his skin. "I see you've arrived in Tokyo. You're hearing me through one of the augmentations that we've installed. It's called the Infolink. I can see what you see and communicate freely with you. Your associate should be able to help you get around. Remember, the man you're looking for is named Omatsu. See if anyone in town knows anything about him."

The helicopter lifted up gently, then swept up into the sky. After a few minutes, there was no sign of it. Tiberius and his comrade stood alone in the cracked street. A single light penetrated this area, casting everything in an eerie shade of gray. Not a single sign of life was visible, and in the distance the visible lights were scattered sporadically among the buildings. This was not the Tokyo of yesterday.

*On board the helicopter, Tiberius had been issued a 10 millimeter pistol and a few clips. A dark blue overcoat with the sign of Sagittarius emblazoned on the back was thrown over his light armor. He also carried with him a collapsible baton and a canister of pepper spray. The translator had been provided with two medical kits for use in emergencies.*"

"Put that away," said the translator. "If people see you with a gun in your hand, you will not survive long!"

He wasn't sure that he was overly fond of the translator. The dark-haired little man spoke in short, snappy sentences and seemed to be constantly irritated by something. Tiberius wondered briefly if he was feeling the same sense of discomfort. Whatever the case, it made the task at hand much more difficult to deal with.

Without saying much more, the translator began leading the way up the street, passing into the shadows cast by the monstrous, yet lifeless buildings that flanked their passage. It was difficult to see anything, and the moon cast only a vague light in the more open areas, which were few and far between.

Tiberius thought he saw movement on one of the sidewalks. Straining to see, he began to wonder why Carson hadn't outfitted him with some sort of flashlight. As Tiberius stopped, the translator turned around impatiently and muttered something about promptness. He ignored his guide and focused on the spot where he thought he had seen something. His head was suddenly overcome by some sort of crawling sensation under his skin. At first he began to panic, brushing at his face with his hands, but to no avail. After only a few seconds, a beam of light appeared in front of him, illuminating a small cone in front of him. He looked over to the translator, shining the light on him as he did so.

"What is that?" The translator's eyes went wide and he simply stared at Tiberius in wonder. "That cannot be natural!" Tiberius was inclined to agree, and started shaking his head, trying to extinguish the light. He tried to focus on putting it out, but nothing he tried worked. It stayed on and kept following his vision.

*"Ah, I see you've found another one of your augmentations," said Doctor Carson through the infolink. Tiberius screamed when he heard the voice, tripping over backwards and landing on the pavement. He sat up and pushed himself back on his hands. "Don't worry, it's just me. The light uses up bioelectric energy, so use it sparingly. I have no biocells to spare."*"

"I have said nothing," said the translator, who stood back and stared bewildered at Agent Tiberius. "Who are you talking to?"

"Carson...In my head...There's..." he trailed off, not quite knowing how to explain his current state of mind.

"Focus, Agent. Concentrate," said the voice. "The light can be turned on and off at your will, like a light bulb with a chain. You just have to know what chain to pull."

Tiberius gathered his wits together and concentrated once more on the light. He closed his eyes and thought of the darkness, of seeing nothing. He focused on his normal vision, and the crawling sensation died down. When it had passed, he opened his eyes and saw that the light had gone out.

"Good, Agent. You've turned it off," said Carson. "It is difficult now, but in time you will learn how to activate and deactivate your augmentations at will. They all work along the same lines. Practice and patience are your friends here."

Tiberius looked up at the translator. Neither spoke for some time. After a moment, Tiberius pulled himself up to his feet and brushed himself off a little. He merely nodded to the translator, who could not even begin to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Once he finally gave up trying to speak, the two began to walk. Whatever it was that had moved, it was gone now.

*A long time passed before another word was spoken. Tiberius felt that they must have been traveling deeper into the city, since now there were people about, though not that many at such a late hour. Some were keeping warm by standing around barrels that contained burning debris. Others seemed lost, dressed as though they belonged in a boardroom or five-star hotel, but had found themselves on the streets instead. Every so often there was a single streetlight illuminated. Tiberius jumped a bit when Carson explained this to him.*"

Carson simply went quiet after that. Tiberius couldn't figure out how to send a response through the infolink, or even if he could respond. Eventually, he accepted that Carson did not require a response from him and stopped trying to send one. When they had arrived in a small group of people, Tiberius pulled the translator aside.

"Do you think one of these people knows anything about Omatsu?" he asked.

"His name runs in many circles here," replied the translator. "It is likely that someone here knows something. I have dealt with these people before. Perhaps I will recognize one. It won't help if you try to light them up with your eyes."

"I think I've got that pretty much under control now."

Tiberius looked around suspiciously for a bit while his charge started asking questions. Sure enough, someone was familiar with Mr. Omatsu.

"This man says he knows where Omatsu is, but that he is under siege right now." The man in question, a skinny, gray-haired individual dressed in old rags, spoke a very slow, raspy Japanese. The translator continued. "When power was lost, rival gangs moved in. Scavengers are after Omatsu and his empire. Now that things don't work, Omatsu has become a dangerous man to become associated with, because the gangs will go to great lengths to obtain what he controls."

*"We're not much more than scavengers ourselves, though, are we?"*"

"Where is Omatsu?"

"He is on the fifteenth floor of an abandoned office building to the north. The sign over its entrance is in Japanese, so I will indicate it to you once we find it. Much fighting surrounds the building. Around it is where Omatsu's empire used to occupy. Now they have been pushed back and are fighting desperately to keep control of what they have left."

The man continued in Japanese. Tiberius reflected on what he had just been told. Fingering the pistol he had been issued, he realized that Carson had probably been correct. Destroying the global communications grid had pushed humanity over the edge of sanity. It was a hard reality to face.

The whole world is in shambles and he wants me to fix it. Whoever I was before, I'm sure "messiah" wasn't on my resume.

The signs of violence became more apparent as the two moved northward. Bullets had torn into just about every building, signpost, and streetlight around. Scorch marks and holes in the pavement demonstrated just how sophisticated the weaponry available to the gangs had become. The translator moved quickly, glancing every which way as he continued on. Tiberius began shaking, his discomfort becoming more and more unbearable.

*It wasn't long before his fears became justified. The pair was stopped by a man standing a short distance away taking aim with an assault rifle. He yelled something in Japanese and the translator froze. Tiberius reacted instinctively, pulling out the pistol and disarming the safety. He couldn't recall ever using a weapon like this, but once he had it in his hand the motions were extremely familiar. The man shouted at them again, making aggressive gestures with his gun. At this point Tiberius already had the pistol level with his eyesight. He aimed low and pulled the trigger. The recoil and the noise shook him back to reality, but he found himself unable to move.*"

I just...what have I done?

The translator looked back and forth between Tiberius and the corpse. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wanted to say something to Tiberius, but couldn't get the words out. Very slowly, the agent lowered his weapon and continued to stare. It was Carson that finally broke the silence.

"You're in hostile territory, Agent. Gawking will get you killed."

Tiberius blinked and shook his head quickly, then looked at the translator. After exchanging glances for a moment they both ran over to the body. In the man's holster was a 10 millimeter pistol similar to Tiberius's. He scavenged the clip and also a flare. Since they were finished with the body, the two got up to continue on. The translator started walking just in time to miss being shot in the head with a 30.06 rifle round.

Tiberius jumped back, and panicked again. Inadvertently, he activated an augmentation again, but this time the crawling sensation was in a different part of his head.

This really is not a good time!

*The translator ducked his head into his arms and ran for the nearest cover. Tiberius grabbed the assault rifle from the corpse, ignoring the sensation for a minute. Another shot came down and struck the pavement. Tiberius looked up and saw that it had come from the third-floor window of a decaying building. He pointed the assault rifle at it and sprayed two bursts of bullets at it. The recoil and the odd angle threw his aim off entirely, but the shooter withdrew anyway, taking cover behind a table inside as the window frame and wall were torn up.*"

A few bits of buckshot from the blast dug their way into Tiberius's flesh, most of them going astray as the thug tried to avoid the opposing gunfire. Tiberius, fed up with the assault rifle's clumsiness, tossed it aside and again drew his pistol. By the time the gang member had his shotgun ready for another shot, he was knocked off his feet by two 10 millimeter rounds. Tiberius fired five times in actuality, but could not keep the weapon level enough to make them all hit.

The second thug was back on his feet and ready to close with the shotgun. Tiberius ran towards him and prepared to fire, but was suddenly overwhelmed by a beeping noise sounding all around him. It was impossible to find its source, but the targeting reticule that appeared towards the far right of his vision led him to believe that it was inside of his own head. Unable to concentrate, Tiberius fell forward and landed on his knees. He felt the rifle round sweep past him, just above his head, right before it impacted with the goon's chest. Surrounded by three fallen gang members, Tiberius staggered over to the window sill where the translator was cowering. The beeping noise had stopped after the reticule and a bunch of numbers had passed through his vision.

"That sniper's still up there," he said. "I'm going to have to go up through the building and take him head-on. Can you distract him for me?"

The translator nodded carefully, then ran frantically into the street. Tiberius crouched, and made his way up the stairs as quickly as possible. Twice he heard the sound of a silenced firearm being discharged, like a soda can being opened. With his pistol at the ready, he burst his way through the door to where the sounds were coming from. The sniper barely had time to be startled before Tiberius took him out. He shot him three times: twice in the back, and once in the head. The rifle fell forward and dropped out of the window. Tiberius looked out and saw a small man disappear into the shadows.

He took a deep breath and backed away slowly. Everything that he'd done had felt so natural, as if he were putting on a pair of shoes that he hadn't worn in ten years to find out that they still fit perfectly.

*Carson mentioned military training. Maybe I know more than we thought...*"

### Chapter Four

-Franz Kafka, An Old Leaf

He sat very still as the translator carefully removed the bits of lead that had burrowed their way into Tiberius's skin. The medical kit contained a few basic implements, but luckily there hadn't been any major wounds inflicted. Unfortunately, there wasn't much in the way of anesthetic either.

"Ow! Damn it, could you be a little more careful!"

"I cannot," replied the translator. "I am doing the best I can with the equipment I have, but there isn't very much that I can do to reduce the pain. The bleeding is quite minimal, and the wounds should be better in a few days, provided there is no infection."

"What are you, a doctor?" Tiberius winced again.

"Yes. Though it has been some time since my services in that area have actually been called on." He pulled the last piece from his patient's side. "You are very lucky that those men were not good shots."

"They were pretty slow on the draw, too. It was the sniper that worried me the most."

"It is surprising that a gang in this area has even been able to get its hands on a rifle like that. The report that Doctor Carson had made regarding this city and its dangers suggested that the gangs were very limited by a shortage of money."

*"With the power going out sporadically, they've probably been doing some looting. How does Carson know so much about Tokyo, anyway?"*"

They moved on, continuing towards the building where Mr. Omatsu could be found. Tiberius decided that a stealth approach was preferable, and took advantage of the shadows whenever danger seemed afoot. As they moved Carson made an interjection.

"That was a good question to ask, Agent," he said through the Infolink, spooking Tiberius again. "In the past, I was able to make the trip to Tokyo myself in order to negotiate a weapons or equipment deal. I hate to have to go through underground sources, but the nature of my work makes it an unfortunate necessity. With things the way they are, it is simply too dangerous for me to go, which is part of the reason I had you augmented for this mission. It is vital to the rest of the world that we get this AI operational."

The sounds of gunfire became audible as the pair approached the building in which Omatsu had secured himself. Every so often, they would duck aside to avoid more gang members running towards the scene. Creeping their way up an alley, they gradually got close enough to have a look at what was unfolding outside the office building.

The fighting was done mostly with sawed-off shotguns and pistols, but occasionally an assault rifle was clumsily fired off. Although a few weak lights were turned on inside the building, the street outside was almost entirely bathed in darkness. Muzzle flashes illuminated a tangled mass of armed thugs running between each other and trying to shoot the right people. Tiberius found it impossible to determine who was fighting who.

Such chaos...What is the point of it all?

Reaching the main entrance to the office building required navigating the mob of confusion. Tiberius scanned the street for other options. The only alternative that he could see was a sewer entrance just outside of the alley. He wasn't entirely sure he knew what the reaction would be if he went out into the open like that. He pulled the translator aside and spoke to him in a low voice.

*"Do you have any idea what's inside?"*"

"I have an idea, but it's a dangerous one. We need to get through that manhole."

"We can't do that. We'll have no cover. They'll shoot us as soon as they see us."

"It's either that or make a mad dash for the main entrance. From here there aren't any other ways in that don't involve a long circling of the building. The longer we spend deliberating, the sooner they'll find us."

The translator thought on this for a minute, then nodded reluctantly.

"All right, but I hope you know what you're doing."

Me too.

"OK, here's the plan. I'll send off a flare and keep their attention away from the grate. Then I'll run out and secure the area around it. When I give you the signal, you run out and open the manhole, then get down inside. I'll cover you until you're safe, then follow."

"What if you're shot?"

"Pull me in if you can, but remember that one of us has to reach Omatsu. You need me here, but you're the critical one when we get inside. If I go down, you'll just have to complete the mission without me."

Tiberius wondered why Carson hadn't said anything regarding this idea. It didn't seem like he would approve of taking such a risk here, but Tiberius used his silence as confirmation.

*This is the real deal. No second chances.*"

A gang member with one of the assault rifles saw the duel and sent a volley at Tiberius. He ducked and dodged, feeling the wind of the bullets as they flew past him. Lining up his aim as best as he could he fired three times at the goon, hitting him at least once and taking him down. After doing a quick sweep, he gestured for the translator to proceed. With a bit of effort, the cover lifted off, revealing an entrance to the sewer below.

A shotgun blast went off near the translator, who quickly ducked his head and climbed down into the sewer. Tiberius kept his pistol at the ready and moved towards the entrance. He paused for a moment to make sure he knew where he was going, and a pistol round struck his shoulder. He found his hand covered in blood and his arm stinging from pain as he clutched the wound and dropped to a crouch.

Wearily, he made his way onto the ladder leading under the street. When he was low enough, he simply dropped off of it and sat on the stone walkway, holding his bleeding shoulder and wincing from the pain it caused. The translator quickly climbed up and pulled the cover over the entrance. He then went over to Tiberius and pulled out the medical kit.

"You'll have to move your hand so I can get a look at the wound." Tiberius complied and nodded with clenched teeth. After examining it carefully, the translator again spoke in a grave tone. "Fortunately, there is no serious damage. I will need to stop the bleeding and this may hurt quite a bit. The bullet is inside and I do not want to remove it for risk of more serious bleeding. The shoulder will have to be touched up for now, but once we leave you will need to have the wound treated in a hospital."

*"Won't that be difficult with the power out all over the world?" Tiberius rasped.*"

"I guess that's as good as it's going to get, then."

The translator treated the wound and dressed it tightly. The stinging sensation was still there, but Tiberius was able to function again, if quite a bit more painfully. They moved on a bit down the sewer. It was mostly dark, so Tiberius again activated the light in his head. While the stench was overpowering, they had little trouble making their way towards the building's generator room.

The outer door was accessible by keypad only, but the door had been left open. The corpse of the last person who had tried to enter was lying on top of one of the pieces of machinery. Tiberius and the translator simply continued on. A ladder led up into the building's first floor. Almost immediately, Tiberius found himself the target of automatic weapon fire.

It stopped after a moment once Tiberius had ducked his head. He turned to the translator, who pushed him aside to climb the ladder himself. Near the top he started shouting something in Japanese. Tiberius was surprised to hear someone reply in a very nervous tone. The translator cautiously climbed the ladder and made his way out, and he followed. The gun did not fire. Looking around, he could see that it was mounted on the ceiling just near where the ladder came up. A man nearby was working with a fold-out computer console on the wall with one hand, and pointing a sawed-off shotgun at the two intruders with the other. The translator traded a few words with him in Japanese, then turned to Tiberius.

"I told him we need to see Omatsu, and mentioned Doctor Carson. He says the elevator is rigged, but he can escort us up the stairs. There are many traps so we must be on constant guard."

*"Well that's awfully nice of him. Let's get it over with."*"

The room itself was dimly lit, and most of the furnishings were of a dark blue color. Various plants were set around, and the floor was covered in blue carpet. At the far end stood a large wooden desk that was kept very neat in appearance. A couple of sheets of paper and a pen were all that lay on top. A mid-sized, somewhat plump man stood behind it with a gruff expression on his face. He said something in Japanese. The translator replied, bowed, then gestured for Tiberius to do the same.

"I have introduced us as representatives of Doctor Carson and expressed a wish to do business with Mr. Omatsu for the needed equipment to complete our construction. Now begins the negotiations. I can handle this part, but I will translate if you wish."

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," said Tiberius. He looked around briefly. "I thought this guy was a gang leader, part of the underground. What's he doing in a fancy executive office like this?"

"He is a business man," said the translator. Tiberius walked over towards the window that covered most of the outer wall as the two began their discussion. It started out fairly tense, but rapidly began to dissolve into more of an argument than anything else. He began to wonder if the entire trip had even been worth it. Carson echoed his feelings over the Infolink.

"I'm afraid Mr. Omatsu isn't being as generous as he has been in the past. It seems like he's demanding a price that I can't pay and won't budge on it. I need those parts. If he won't sell them to us we'll have to find another way..."

Tiberius felt rather frustrated at this whole affair. After everything he'd been through, it suddenly seemed as if the night had only just gotten started.

*What have I been pulled into here?*"

The translator and Mr. Omatsu's voices rose higher and higher. They had passed any point where they would reach an agreement. Tiberius ignored this however, along with the pain in his shoulder. All he could do was focus. Suddenly, there was a very rapid movement from across the street. A large projectile was flying at him fast. All at once, the targeting reticule and numbered display inside his vision returned. The reticule followed the rocket's approach, never losing it. It was almost at the building when it suddenly exploded, shattering the window and throwing Tiberius off his feet. He was pushed off the floor and landed a few feet back, rolling over as the bits of glass came down on him.

Omatsu and the translator stopped abruptly and hurried over to see what had happened. Omatsu drew a sniper rifle from behind his desk and went to the window. He fired a single shot, then turned around. The translator helped Tiberius back to his feet. Both looked at each other, then at Omatsu. Omatsu spoke first.

*"You...saved...my life," he said, in very careful English. It was obvious he was having a tremendous amount of difficulty finding the words. "We...make deal now."*"

### Chapter Five

-Philip K. Dick, A Scanner Darkly

Little was spoken as Agent Tiberius was loaded onto the helicopter on the roof of the office building. Carson's soldiers kept an eye out with their assault rifles, but the warfare from the streets had died down, and no one took much interest in the airlift. The helicopter merely lifted off and set out for some distant point as yet unknown to its wounded passenger.

The translator and one of Carson's engineers stayed behind to complete the business arrangements with Mr. Omatsu. Tiberius still had no idea of how close to completion the artificial intelligence was. "Need-to-know" basis did not yet apply to him within this group. Still, Tiberius would've appreciated a simple "thank you" over the infolink instead of the silent treatment prescribed to him.

The doctors that greeted the nano-augmented agent upon his arrival at the makeshift hospital were equally stoic. While he was being escorted down the carpeted, softly-lit corridors, Tiberius realized that he was in a hotel. Medical equipment had been hauled in and set up in some of the rooms. To his amazement, he saw that he was not the only patient here.

"Who are all these people?" he asked the first doctor. The single-word response "patients" didn't really answer his question. "I mean, are they other agents, unfortunate scientists...Why does Carson need a hospital, and if he has so many connections, why can't he secure a real one?"

"Sit down here," replied the doctor as they arrived at the room. "Try to remain still. This is not a lengthy procedure so we'd better get it over with."

"Why the rush?"

*"Just stay calm, and we'll have that bullet out in no time. Looks like you need to be patched up some more anyway."*"

He received no further response from either doctor. They worked efficiently, if somewhat carelessly, then left with barely a word between them. Bewildered, Tiberius took a moment to examine the hotel room. The bed had been removed and replaced with a gurney surrounded by various machines and instruments. Not many had been put to use in this case. A medical robot moved about at a snail's pace, occasionally making some mechanical noises as it did so. The room was lightly furnished, its most striking feature being a holoprojector at the far end from the gurney. Tiberius got up and walked towards it, and to his great surprise it activated itself.

"I would have liked to be able to debrief you in person, but I suppose this will have to do," said a ghostly image of Arthur Carson. "So much more personal than that damned infolink."

"What's going on here?" asked Tiberius. "No one seems to want to tell me anything."

"They're under orders, I'm afraid," said Carson. "My orders. I do apologize, but this will work much more efficiently if you report directly to me. You're a new addition to my group, but make no mistake: you are perhaps the most important person under my authority."

"What authority? If I'm so important, then why can't you elaborate just a little bit? I don't see how I can work efficiently with you constantly keeping me in the dark."

"Easy, Agent. Let's not allow our emotions to get the better of us. Remember who controls the killswitch."

So cold...

"Well, what can you tell me?" Tiberius took a few breaths and tried to calm himself down.

It's been a long night. Maybe he's right.

*"Just this: we are nearing completion. The Zeus AI will be fully operational within a week provided everything works out with Omatsu, which has always been the case with him."*"

"Aside from the help we'll need from you when the rebuilding begins, we are still quite far from that point. Remember, we are trying to restore the entire global communications grid. It will take more than just an AI to do this. Had we been able to complete construction before the collapse, the process would have been a lot smoother. Unfortunately, distancing ourselves from Savage and X-51 brought us no closer to a government contract."

"What do you need to finish the job?"

"Zeus needs a personality, so to speak. Aquinas, Echelon and Internet 3 worked because there was an AI presence to consciously interact with it. A regulating force. Originally, this AI was known as Daedalus, but it was too idealistic for Majestic 12's purposes. When it got out of their—"

"Majestic 12? What are you talking about?" Tiberius was too tired to deal with another information overload, but he didn't know when he'd have another chance to ask before being whisked away again to some chaotic mission.

"The conspirators I told you about before. You've heard of the Illuminati?"

"A little bit, yeah. I never paid much attention to it, though." He felt uneasy after saying this. Something was stirring up in his head. An image, some echoes of voices speaking long ago. Bits and pieces came to mind, but none of them were able to fuse together. He tried to make sense of it all, but the dots simply would not connect.

"...and have been in control ever since. We can go into the history later, but...Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, sorry." He snapped out of his confusion and paid attention to Carson again.

*"Anyway, MJ12 was unable to control the Daedalus AI, and it got away from them. They designed a new AI that was programmed to be more obedient, this time dubbed Icarus. Icarus kept the network functioning as it was meant to. Unfortunately, both of the AIs were lost when JC Denton destroyed Area 51."*"

"The abilities of these entities were dependent on their understanding and awareness of the entire network as well as humanity. Naturally, since the network does not currently exist, it is impossible for us to allow Zeus access to it in order to learn and evolve to the same level of function."

"So how do we deal with this?" Tiberius asked, exhausted. He was slumped forward, his elbows resting on his legs and his eyes staring widely at the projector.

"The archives and backup systems still exist at the laboratory where Daedalus and Icarus were created. We simply need to take the most recent version and perform an imprint onto the new AI's consciousness."

"So you're going to send me in there to grab both backups while the new AI goes online? Don't tell me you need them right away."

"Obviously I wouldn't send you right this moment. And we don't need both AIs. There would be too much overlap for it to be worth it. We only need the Icarus AI for the imprint. It should be more up-to-date and easier to work with once the imprint is complete."

"And this facility is in the United States? That means I won't need a translator..."

"Actually, from this point on I will be assigning another agent to work with you. The nature of your objective makes it far too risky to send you in alone."

"Someone else—" Tiberius yawned. "Someone who's augmented like me?"

*"No," said Carson, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not. Augmented agents are in very short supply given the rarity of the physical traits that allow the human body to accept the nanites. It was no small miracle that we were able to find you."*"

"Anyway, that can all wait until tomorrow," Carson continued. "You need rest, and also there is a decision for you to sleep on. In the cabinet by the bed is another augmentation canister, just like the one you found in the DuClare mansion. It contains two optional enhancements for your arms. One is known as the "Microfibral Muscle." This will amplify your lifting power, allowing you to move very heavy objects with relative ease. The other is "Combat Strength." This one will give you an edge over any adversary in hand-to-hand or melee combat situations."

"Don't you or your scientists need to install it?"

"No, not really. We installed the first one with the regular systems simply because it was on hand and allowed us to test out your tolerance for the nanites quickly. Just take the canister to the medical bot and tell it to install it. You'll have the option of Microfibral Muscle or Combat Strength, but you may only choose one. Be careful."

"I've got a pistol. Am I really going to need to punch anyone out?"

"I wouldn't become too dependent on your ranged weapons. Sometimes a silent takedown is preferable. With the combat strength you'll be able to totally clobber someone with that baton, saving you some ammunition. On the other hand, if you're extracting equipment for us, it would be a major advantage if you were able to lift it yourself without pulling a muscle."

"Didn't you say something about a limited power supply?"

"Yes, I did. You'll have to watch your bioelectric energy expenditures carefully while using any of your augmentations. Certain maintenance robots are capable of replenishing it for you, but you will not encounter them very often. A portable recharging solution, called a biocell, is available, but my supply on them is very short. Your new partner has a couple to spare, and they can be found readily at any laboratory, as they have quite a variety of uses."

*Tiberius blinked, and it took a long time for his eyes to open again.*"

### Chapter Six

-Ayn Rand, Anthem

He woke to an empty room. Carson had told him that someone would wake him up, but there was no sign of anyone. Everything was still, even the medical bot.

What time is it?

He searched in vain for a clock, trying to recover from a decent sleep on a very uncomfortable surface. Not caring to alert anyone to his awakening, he went to the cabinet and removed the augmentation canister. With his head now cleared, he realized that the decision was not all that difficult.

If Tokyo was just the beginning, then I must be prepared.

It was the first time since he had watched the lights go out in Paris that he had been prepared to accept the new life he had been forced into. If Carson hadn't found him and pulled him into his plan, Tiberius doubted that he would have found a will or a way to survive in this strange new world. He stepped over to the medical bot and inserted the canister. He selected "Combat Strength" and allowed the machine to do its job.

When the doctor finally arrived, the bot was removing the final implement from Tiberius's arm. Emotionless as usual, he entered the room without knocking and motioned for Tiberius to exit.

"Where are we going?" asked Tiberius.

*"Outside," the doctor replied. "Your mission awaits."*"

"I hope you slept well," he said. The Infolink no longer spooked Tiberius the way it used to. He had started to grow accustomed to people having access to his head. "There is soy food in the van, it'll have to do for breakfast. You're leaving the Columbus Sea Hotel in Genoa, Italy. At this time, we lack a central base of operations, but we were able to establish something in the Columbus Sea that is a little more comforting than the Paris warehouse in which Zeus is being constructed.

"Your new partner is in Genoa on assignment currently. It's an espionage mission that is nearly complete. The conclusion of this assignment is an assassination, and I will tell you up front that it will be a difficult one. That is why it is being handed over to you. The agent on the scene lacks the capabilities that you possess. It is an unfortunate fact of human nature that not everyone will agree with my objectives, and some of them choose to express this conviction violently. The individual in question is very dangerous, and resourceful to a point where I cannot yet disclose his identity to you for fear that you will attract unwanted attention in seeking him. Your partner will brief you in regards to his whereabouts."

Tiberius could feel the van speeding along through the city streets. He wondered how many people actually drove right now. The collapse of the global network had likely crippled the fuel supply. He wished for a window or some way in which to see what was happening outside.

What will I encounter when that door opens up?

*He had his answer long before he wanted it. The van cruised along for quite some time while he consumed his meager and rather tasteless meal. When at last it came to a stop and the door was opened, he was greeted by a sight beyond belief.*"

At least, this was before the clouds, the destruction, and the destitute citizens were added to the image. The sun that Tiberius had seen had forced its way out through the overcast sky, and disappeared very quickly. The buildings lining the avenue had been torn into by what appeared to be bullets, and in some cases explosions. Soldiers in black garb were removing bodies from the street as helpless, frantic onlookers moved to avoid them.

Tiberius took a look at his driver and saw that he too was outfitted with the black armor, uniform, and helmet of the soldiers here. He held an assault rifle in his hand. As a crowd began to form around the van he fired several rounds into the air and the people scattered. Sealing the vehicle up tight, he led Tiberius towards a group of soldiers and terrified civilians.

"What's the situation here?" he asked. One of the soldiers stepped away from the body removal and addressed him.

"Everything's blacked out. We've lost all contact with the other units and resorted to martial law as soon as people started panicking." He tightened his grip on his assault shotgun as he said this. "Everything's pretty well under control right now, after our rapid show of force. There was a lot of initial resistance, but nothing we couldn't deal with. The Captain thinks there might have been sabotage to prepare for an uprising, but they didn't plan ahead too well."

"It was sabotage all right, but not the way you're thinking," said the driver. "The whole global network came crashing down, Area 51's toast." The soldier's eyes went wide.

*"Impossible! The whole net's gone black?"*"

"I'll pass the word on to the Captain."

"What caused those explosions?" Tiberius interjected, pointing towards a hole in one of the nearby buildings.

"The bots went haywire," said the soldier, sighing. "As soon as everything started to go dark, they started shooting at anything that moved. They cut down civilians, soldiers, even attacked each other. We lost a lot of good men that night. We fought back with LAW and GEP weapons, and eventually brought them down. But the damage is done."

"I'll need to be leaving now," said the driver. "The agent will not be in the city for very long."

"I understand. If there's nothing more you need, I have more work to do."

Tiberius shook his head and watched the soldier rejoin his comrades. The driver returned to the van without another word and drove off. Looking around, he wondered how many of the bullet holes were from bots and how many were from the soldiers. As soon as he began to wonder where exactly he was supposed to go from here, the infolink activated.

*"Hopefully, our little deception will buy you some time while you're in Genoa. The MJ12 Captain there is a vicious man. Don't approach him. I'd have you deal with the occupation if I could, but we simply don't have the time or the resources right now. The only reason they didn't shoot you on sight was because of your escort, a defector who we've been lucky to have with us. Now, your contact's name is Allison Long. She is currently waiting for you in the Onda Blu. I will contact you again after your briefing."*"

He stumbled over a giant leg and nearly fell over. The leg was made of metal and looked as if it could withstand just about anything. But that wasn't what scared him. It was the thing's arm pointing directly at his face, looking as if it would shred him into oblivion with its machine gun or possibly just reduce him to tiny bits with its rocket launcher.

So this must be one of the bots they were referring to...

Once he overcame the initial shock and accepted that the beast was dead, he backed up and stepped around the metallic corpse. It had apparently been knocked back by a pair of small rockets and a barrage of bullets. Its downfall had come at a high price: surrounding the wreckage was a swarm of bodies. Blood caked the streets, supplied by men, women, and children alike. Some of them wore the black uniforms of Majestic 12 soldiers.

Tiberius bent over one of the bodies. The sight was beyond words. A small child, his body ripped into by a machine gun, lay next to a man torn almost in half. He was beyond words. For a long while he sat there, on his knees, fighting back tears. The only thing that brought him back was Carson's cold voice in his head reminding him of his meeting. Before he stood up, Tiberius took one last look at the man and the boy. Examining the wounds, he made a startling realization.

These were not made by the same weapon.

*The man's body had clearly been savaged by something of a very large caliber. Each shot had gone clear through his entire body and taken large amounts of flesh with it. On the boy, this was not the case. Tiberius's mind did not want to make the logical conclusion until he happened to see an assault rifle in one of the hands of one of the fallen soldiers.*"

As he stood transfixed, a chilling metallic voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Running search pattern," it said. Tiberius nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked in the direction of the voice and found himself face-to-face with something out of a nightmare. What looked to be a man, outfitted in all black, heavy-duty armor, and with two giant weapons mounted on his arms. They looked like somewhat smaller versions of the autocannon and rocket launcher from the bot's weapon mount. His face was entirely concealed by a black helmet that had installed in it some sort of optical unit, like a pair of binoculars. It looked at Tiberius with an entire lack of emotion.

"Who are you?" Tiberius asked. He was breathing heavily, trying hard to remain calm.

"Clean-up squad, overseer status." The microphone that the armor's owner was speaking into failed to convey anything at all human. "You're the special agent assigned here. This area must be evacuated of all living people, including you."

"I was just on my way. Can I ask you a few questions first?"

Carson cut in quickly. "Whoa, Agent. Be careful. That's an MJ12 Commando. You may be augmented, but I doubt you'd stand up to a rocket. It's very possible that he took down that military bot himself."

"Make it quick," said the commando.

"Why were the soldiers here firing on civilians?"

"Martial law was in effect. Civilians violating curfew in a dangerous area walk the streets at their own risk."

"Were you on the scene when this massacre happened?"

*"I do not recall. Genoan citizens have been confrontational lately. You must go now."*"

"I am not obligated to answer your questions. There is work to be done. Good day, Agent."

Tiberius thought about challenging him some more, but reconsidered. There was something very unnerving about being in the presence of the commando. Moving on, he had to stop twice to ask for directions to the Onda Blu. The first person spoke in broken English and was not particularly fond of foreigners. The bar itself turned out to be only a short distance from where he was. Finding a small, worn building with a few tables outside, Tiberius felt a little uneasy.

Doesn't seem like much of a meeting place...

He entered and found a very dreary-looking room. A tiny handful of patrons sat around, talking little. Tiberius approached the counter and waited for someone to come help him. A tall man with thinning blonde hair came to his assistance.

"Benvenuto al Onda blu. Che cosa posso ottenere per voi?" he said. After a moment, it became obvious that his new guest did not speak Italian. "Sorry, mate. Force of habit." Much to Tiberius's surprise, the man's accent was British.

"That's Okay," he replied. "I wasn't expecting to be here, anyway."

"I see. You're a Yank, right?" Tiberius nodded. "Finally paid your dues to the U.N., now you want them to turn you back on." Tiberius was silent for a moment. He didn't quite know how to respond. "Or are you here to take back your bloody soldiers now that you've made a whole mess of the place? Please tell me it's the latter."

"I've got nothing to do with the soldiers. I just need--"

*"That's what they all say. It's not your problem, they're not trashing your city. Why should you care? Do you want some coffee or what? Prices are through the roof, but I'm not about to apologize to you. I know you're in with these soldiers, word gets around."*"

"You know what the problem with you Americans is?" the bartender continued. "You think everything belongs to you, free for the taking. You just walk in here like you own the place and expect me to walk you around. You can find her yourself!"

"What happened here was ghastly," Tiberius said, taking a deep breath. "I've seen it. I can only assure you—"

"Don't start. You haven't seen the half of it. Maybe you're telling the truth, and you've got nothing to do with this whole thing. Either way, it's no comfort to me what your assurances are." He seemed to be calming down a bit. "Just do what you need to do, and leave me be. I've no time for the likes of you."

With that, Tiberius turned around and walked away from the counter. Surveying the bar, he quickly settled his eyes on a brown-haired woman dressed in a dark suit seated at the corner table. She had been watching him with her inquisitive green eyes since he entered.

"Agent Long, I presume." He walked over to the table and offered his hand.

"You must be Agent Tiberius," she said, shaking his hand. "I was expecting someone in a toga." He laughed a little, but it was obvious to her that the joke was lost on him.

"You're an American," he said. She nodded.

"Have a seat. Apparently Art wants us working together. He's having me brief you for your next mission." He nodded quietly. Allison Long had a very calm demeanor, and her voice was somewhat deep, very smooth. "We're headed for Virginia."

*"Virginia?" Tiberius was a little surprised. "I thought you were on an espionage mission that I was to complete."*"

"I'm not going with you?"

"Not initially. The assassination is supposed to be a quick job, something you can take care of while the primary mission gets under way."

"So what do I do?"

"I will be leaving shortly for the Mount Weather facility in Virginia. The Icarus consciousness imprint is being stored there, and it will be your mission to retrieve it. My objective will be to secure the area and allow you to enter the facility, then to offer support once you've arrived."

"Why can't you retrieve it yourself?"

"It's not safe for an agent to go in alone. I can only go so far before I need your assistance, and since you've been augmented, I'll need your help in penetrating the deepest parts of Mount Weather."

"Sounds difficult. Why do we need to go in separately? Wouldn't it make more sense for us to finish the mission at hand, and then move in together?"

"Not really. Secrecy is essential here, and I have already been identified. That's why this mission is being handed over to you. I am already prepared and outfitted for my new assignment. You, on the other hand, are not."

"What do you mean?"

*"You have two augmentations currently outfitted, at their lowest level of enhancement. Carson wants you in the field more, getting used to your augs, and then he wants you upgraded before you leave for Virginia."*"

"I know what I'm up against." She pulled out a laptop from underneath the table. "I'll be in touch with Carson through this, but it has a very nifty feature in addition." She punched in something, then turned the computer around to show Tiberius the screen. He saw the scene in front of him repeating into infinity. "I have access to your Infolink." He shuddered.

So she'll be inside my head, too. This is beyond ‘Big Brother'...

She turned the screen away from him and powered down the laptop. After she put it away she finished off her coffee.

*"This will take some getting used to, and I'm sure you're tired of hearing that," said Agent Long. "But that's why I'm here. Having a partner should make things a little easier. At least you can vent to someone, anyway." They shared a brief smile, and Tiberius realized that it had been a long time since he'd actually been able feel happy about anything. The moment wasn't meant to last, but he savored it as much as he could.*"