Chapter 9
Ambrosia Townshend, otherwise known as the ProductionType 07A, fluttered her eyes open in the darkness of her quarters. Without moving she glanced to the side, seeing from the time on the clock that it was nearly time to wake.
Each morning she beat her alarm to waking her. It was not by any internal device that she managed it, only a sort of body awareness that spoke of her self control. She sat up in her bed, sheets falling into a pile around her. She swung her legs off the bed, sliding her feet into slippers she knew to be there. Her torso was bare, shrouded in the darkness of the room, the only clothes she wore were small bed shorts. These were less for her comfort and more in case of a potential emergency. She found sleeping in clothes constricting.
Her eyes, those of an augmented human being, saw easily without the help of light in the room. They made no sound as she adjusted to the morning and looked around, stretching her body with small, precise motions that would ease any tension that had formed in the night. Her eyes were pink, though they looked dark red without light reflecting off of them. Her eyes were mostly organic, with cybernetic augmentations, which separated her from her predecessors.
She stood, giving one last mighty soundless stretch, and dropped her sleep shorts. Her floor was carpeted but bare of any misplaced items. The room as a whole was meticulously kept. She walked into the bathroom and took her morning shower. The fluorescent light was the first she had seen since waking, making her eyes readjust while she shielded them briefly from the brightness. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, something she rarely did after first waking up. Her eyes remained half lidded and her mouth made a thin wide line across her face. She looked utterly bored, even as she walked nude around her apartment, her athletic build and well shaped small breasts more than enough to draw the lustful stares of anyone who would chance upon such a scene. The look on her face however clearly demonstrated how little she cared for a such a thought.
The shower she took was quick and efficient. Shampoo, clean body, rinse shampoo, condition, rinse body, rinse conditioner. She put her hair up in a towel and took another to quickly pat herself dry.
She had the appearance of a woman; the face and body, the smell even. Her movements betrayed something else, something mechanical about her. Not mechanical in the sense that she was physically robotic. Simply, her personality was not to be found in any of her actions. This was a sequence, a ritual to be performed without significant deviation. There was no point in her applying her personality to it.
She went to her dresser and pulled out appropriate underwear. She stepped into her panties and fastened the clasp of her bra in front, and then twisted it around to the back. Opening the closest, she saw the various suits of immaculate cut that were available to her, and picked one in sequence, putting forth no effort in choosing.
She dressed herself, leaving the suit jacket on the hanger, laying it flat on the bed. She returned to the bathroom and dried her hair, then applied makeup to her face. She lined and shadowed her eyes, applied a light shade of red lipstick, and looked unfeeling into the reflection of her in the mirror. Her attention dropped briefly to her left arm. Midway up her forearm was the connection for her prosthetic system. This differed from the Type 06 and 05 series whose prosthetic were connected at the shoulder by large, obvious interfaces. Ambrosia's was much more discrete, at the loss of a bit of effectiveness. It would appear to most to be a bangle of some sort.
She left the bathroom, deactivated the light, plunging the room back into complete darkness. Her eyes adjusted to it quickly. She took her suit jacket from the bed and put it on, buttoning it up the front. She went over to the door and grabbed the sword that sat propped in a corner next to it. Her eyes betrayed nothing as she put it over her shoulder and tightened the scabbard to herself.
She left the room and proceeded directly to the elevator, which would bring her up to Stephan Apex' office.
The time was 5:25 am.
---
The city looked lovely that morning. The sun came up behind several of the buildings as it rose to its place high in the sky. Apex rarely indulged in looking at the city. Normally he found it quite ugly. Lately, however, he found himself in a much more positive mood.
He realized it in himself through his unusually sunny outlook he had been taking as of late, and knew without a second thought the cause
'Ambrosia has surpassed my wildest expectations. I banked on success, but I've truly found a diamond in the rough. She is all a BioSuit should be and more.'
In the weeks since her activation she had served him as dutifully as he imagined the loyalest knight might have served a king in medieval England. She did what he asked unquestioningly, and her cunning in executing open ended orders astounded him. He had no worries over any performance expected of her.
It was not the first time, but Apex found himself wondering what had produced her startling disposition of loyalty and effectiveness. Previous BioSuits had, as a rule, been anything but. The Type 06 in particular became a case study in the abysmal failure of disposition previous BioSuits had possessed.
'Is it the advancements in the brain via the man-machine interface? Have we returned something of her humanity by scaling down the size of the mechanical portion of her brain? Perhaps it is the new Artificial Intelligence that we developed for her purposes, the Lucretzia Drive. So different from the Dummy AI and Bill. Or is it merely the random elements of genetics and environment combined with all these features that have produced such a remarkable young woman? I'd be smart to keep her close, letting her loose only to complete the most important tasks. She's precious to me and the Underground already. If her successors in the Type 07 line are nearly as effective... I'll have more power than I imagined in my hands. Soon, very soon...'
As if summoned Ambrosia walked through the very large oak doors that lead into his office, striding across the expanse and taking her place behind him without a word. Apex smiled softly to himself.
"Are you ready for dinner tonight?"
---
Ambrosia fought the urge to comb her fingers down through her dark blue hair. Her hair style was somewhat aberrant, with her hair longer in the front and much shorter in the back. At its longest, it reached her collar bones, and on the back of her head where it was shorter, it still showed a bit of her neck above her collar.
She wore the same suit she had put on that morning, But Stephan Apex, who was sitting to her left in the limousine, had changed before they left from his office clothes into something more appropriate for the occasion. He looked silently out the windows, watching the glare of the street lamps fly past. Ambrosia kept her head perfectly centered, perfectly straight, looking into the black privacy window that separated the front of the vehicle from the back.
She shifted only her eyes, as she often did, to glanced at her watch, which was on her right wrist, her hands folded in her lap so as to keep that wrist on top. The time was 8:20 PM. They were making reasonable time, not that there was a chance that they would lose their reservation. Stephan Apex had if nothing else clout to those sorts of people.
Apex had commented on her hair earlier in the evening, when they walked through the underground parking lot from his private lift. The limo had been waiting.
"Your hair is very nice this evening, Ambrosia," and then he dipped his head and entered the vehicle. Ambrosia had hesitated and then followed, shutting the door behind herself.
'I wonder what goal he had in mind when he said that to me.'
It gave her a unconscious drive to comb her hair, the compliment serving to bring her attention to it regardless of what state it was in. She of course remained perfectly still, as was always the case unless she was called to action. Her eyes remained half open and disinterested, as they tended to.
---
The restaurant the pair arrived at, The Ambassador, was noted for its high prices, high profile, and high desirability. The Limo driver came around to open the door for Ambrosia. She inclined her head ever so slightly to him, indicating her appreciation, and stepped out, standing at attention while Apex climbed out. When he passed Ambrosia, the woman leaned in and whispered something into the driver's ear, who nodded and closed the door before returning to the driver's seat and driving off.
"I have told him to return by 9:30 at the latest, if he does not hear from us first."
"That's good." he said, looking over the somewhat gala like crowd that was mingling on the stairs leading into the building. Two great columns sat 20 feet from each other, giving the entrance a very large, though inviting appearance. The large staircase lead to an expansive front balcony, where a small get together were enjoying hor deouves and drinks.
The two ascended the stairs, Ambrosia behind as close as respectable distance allowed her to be from Apex. They passed through the party on the balcony, Ambrosia's strange hair gained a few glances. She felt just slightly naked, having left her sword in the limo at Apex' request. She took comfort in the fact that she was a living weapon, however, and expected if something occurred while they ate that she would be equipped to handle it.
'She lacks weapons, even a BLOCKSabre is too large, and she doesn't seem the type to carry a purse. Luckily she can kill with any part of her body. It is merely a dinner, anyway. If news of my identity circulated and came back to haunt me already I'd be in for more worries than simply being attacked in plain sight in a restaurant.'
Ambrosia kept a careful eye on their surroundings, remaining impeccably composed but her gaze constantly changing, looking for the possibilities of danger.
The two were taken to their table immediately. Ambrosia sat like a perfect model of lady-like composure, which amused Apex for some reason. Knowing her capabilities and what she would do at a command, it seemed almost silly that she would have good manners as well.
The sounds of conversation in the restaurant were low and intimate, the overall din quiet comfortable.
'That is better than it might be. I can hear well in this and identify potential threats.' Ambrosia thought.
Stephan was in an unusually good mood, despite what they would be doing after dinner. He had thought it before, but it was truly a marvel how well things had gone since.
'Was it since I decided to design the Type 07? That may be over simplifying it. In terms of functional loses, things began to improve for the organization around the time...
'Ah yes, it would have been when the Type 05B activated. We referred to his loss, the injuries to the Type 06, and his growing instability as failure, and yet they finally forced our hand. Now I have Ambrosia and a dozen more like her on the way. Many of our theories have been proven. If nothing else, things have finally fallen into place.'
Their waiter approached and took their drink orders, and when he returned took their meal orders. Stephan decided to have a steak, medium rare, with a baked potato and a soup to start. Ambrosia ordered a marinaded chicken breast and a salad. Apex sipped the whiskey the Waiter had brought and looked at Ambrosia.
'She's a very attractive woman. I created her, so obviously I put a bit of my taste into her. Still, her personality is like a veil across her face. It's hard to know how much of her is exposed and how much is submerged beneath the surface.'
"Ambrosia, I'm curious, why do you follow me so diligently? I've noticed you take extreme care with everything you do. I've seen men paid millions and millions of dollars who show less attention in their work."
Ambrosia let her eyes return to his face.
'What is he asking me? I suppose he wants me to indulge him in conversation.'
"There are several factors to examine there, but I find satisfaction in performing my job well. That is my purpose, that is what I was created for. Beyond that, I am charged with protecting you. The Underground's goals will not proceed without you."
"Oh, so you use me sort of like a tool, something to keep safe until it is needed?"
"I am here to keep you safe. I do not use you. But I recognize your value. We have value as a result of your existence. If you are killed, everyone in the Underground loses their value."
"Is value important?"
"It it the currency of importance. If I had no value you would not need me. I probably would not exist."
Stephan desisted. She had a point there, and he was only baiting her anyway. Her eyes regarded him curiously, but with a bit of irritation.
'She's not a very emotional person. That means she's not very good at hiding them when she has them. I'm sure she doesn't even realize what she's doing.' He chuckled with amusement, feeling the gold liquid on his tongue, swallowing, letting it burn a trail down his throat, then warm his belly.
"Ambrosia, what do you do on your off time, when you are not looking after me?"
She seemed to sag, almost imperceptibly.
'She's not much of a talker, but that didn't take much to figure out.'
"When I am not on duty, I often find myself either reading or exercising in the the gym."
"Exercising?" This surprised Apex quite a bit, "you have a perfect body capable of feats of strength, endurance, and speed that no human could ever hope to achieve. I'm not sure you'll find much benefit in exercise."
"I know that. I find my self restless at times so I go there to exhaust myself. It helps me..." she trailed off without finishing her thought. Apex noticed she made no attempt to finish it after having abandoned it.
'I think she meant to say relax but she's the type who doesn't want it to be known she lets her guard down.'
"Hmm, I see. What do you read, then?"
"I read about the BioSuits that came before me."
The matter of fact way she said this stuck with Apex, who placed his whiskey down to really look at her.
'What would she do that for? She has high level access, she probably knows most of the truth about the various failures that we've suffered before her birth.'
"Why's that?"
"It is interesting. I know I am not a human being, yet I have this desire to understand where I come from. They are less than 10 years old, the lot of them, but I still am curious about my," she paused this time, searching for a word, "Ancestors."
Apex was struck hard by this particular word, 'Not predecessors, ancestors. It's not obvious but she has a human heart as well as mind. She feels some amount of closeness with those failures that moved us to the point where she was possible. They are not just people she surpassed to her, they're family members who came before, who made her possible.'
Their food came at last, and the meal was completed more or less in silence.
---
A BioSuit, as a matter of design, has a two hundred year non-extendable life span. They are from birth designed to die immediately at the point their bodies have lived to that age. They will not age physically, and by all accounts their bodies will be in perfect condition at the time of their death.
There are many reasons for this. Apex, when he began considering his plan, never wanted to make immortals out of men. Human being were fragile, that is what he detested, but an immortal human would only breed filth, as eternal boredom took over, and great and greater acts of depravity had to be given birth to for the purpose of pleasure. Human beings too must evolve, and to do so the world cannot be choked with exponential generations of eternal human beings.
There was also the question of power. A BioSuit is after all powered primarily by a micro fusion reactor lodged in their belly. This can take the place of eating, drinking, and sleeping, though the BioSuit is designed to enjoy these things as well. The power from this reactor keeps the cells youthful until their forced termination.
The question of fuel became an issue. Because of the abundance of energy that normal operation of a BioSuit reactor creates, only a small amount of nuclear material was needed for each BioSuit. This was a boon, because in the event of a catastrophe, a BioSuit would not become a radioactive source. It also meant that replicating the abilities of BioSuits is difficult at best, particularly for governments that hinged their image on legitimacy and environmental accountability.
Apex had managed to purchase a small quantity in the range of 20 pounds of nuclear material from terrorist from Liberia. A large portion of that 20 pounds became the reactor that would replace the Deep 13s power supply, allowing it to work autonomously from the power grid.
The rest had gone to the BioSuits. Apex realized with the success of the Type 07 series that they would need to purchase more nuclear material to power future models. And of course, when mass production became possible, they would need gigantic quantities compared to the paltry sum he had gotten a hold of in 2007.
Ambrosia found herself very nervous after their dinner. She would have liked to have been the one driving the car; she could not trust the driver because she was not the driver. Apex seemed confident enough. This was mostly for Ambrosia's benefit, however. He was seeking nuclear material personally for his conspiracy against the world. It had the distinct possibility of going very wrong.
The driver pulled into an alley on the seedier side of town. It was the location Apex' contact had told him to come. With a slight nod Apex instructed Ambrosia. She didn't make a return nod of confirmation; he knew already that she understood. She opened the door, exited the limo, and closed the door again. Her sword was on her back now, a comforting weight even to a weapon like her.
She approached the stoop, her eyes scanning but her face a mask. She rapt on the door with the back of her hand.
"Who is here?"
"The buyer is here."
"What does he want."
"You know already what he wants."
"Show me."
Ambrosia walked back to the car, where the back window lowered. A large metal suitcase came through the window. Ambrosia took it in one hand and returned to the man at the door.
She opened it.
Inside were gold bars, unstamped, untraceable. Several million dollars worth. The man swallowed, his eyes wide. He regained his composure quickly, and brought out a large case. Ambrosia examined it. The outside was metal, the inside had been lined with lead. She could detect over 100 pounds of nuclear material in the case.
She glanced up at the man. "The transaction is complete. You may take your money. This never happened."
The man seemed to be getting misgivings but took the case and retreated into the building. Ambrosia lifted the massive case without a problem, sliding it into the trunk of the car which lowered considerably on its shocks. She turned and saw movement on the skyline. She almost dismissed it but it was obvious that something or someone had been watching what just took place. Her heart began to beat furiously and she tensed. She shut the trunk and went to Apex' window.
"I think we were seen. Return to the Underground. I will investigate and report my findings."
Apex felt a seizing of terror in his chest but managed to contain it after several deep breaths.
'These kinds of risks are necessary. We have what we came for. Let the girl do her job.'
"Ambrosia go. Do not make a scene. If you have to kill them, destroy the evidence."
Ambrosia nodded once and concentrated for only a moment before her wings burst through her jacket, strong and flapping. The driver said nothing and the car speed off, taking a round about route through the city before returning to the Underground. Ambrosia took off into the air, her massive wings beating, displacing the air around her.
She realized with a peripheral thought that this was the first time she had actually used her wings, the first time she'd flown outside of a Dive Machine. She did not take the time to enjoy the experience. She cut through the night sky in search of the person who had witnessed the transaction.
It was not hard to track them. She saw them dashing across rooftops like mad man. He was silhouetted in the night sky, but it was obvious he was desperate to get away. He had not planned on getting caught, but he was foolish enough not to have a quick escape planned. That told her he had not snuck in through one of the buildings at least. It's simple enough to assume that if he had, he could have disappeared without her being able to identify him.
'He is an amateur. But how did he know to find us there? What did he intend to gain. Is he working for the men we made the exchange with?'
She flew over head seeing him clearly. She folded her wings against her back and dropped into a free fall straight at him, slicing through the air like a bullet. At the last moment she extended her wings again, using them like built in air brakes that spun her around her prey. She looked into his eyes and saw with a start that she had seen this man before.
'Ah, that explains it. But everything I read told me he was not here. I suppose I could take the time to update the records. Apex will want to hear about this.'
The man took a step backward but had obviously not expected to escape her again. She could tell from his body language, he was poised for a counter attack. He wore the green uniform of the Underground, his prosthetic hanging limply but low, ready to be swung like a metal serpent.
"Gabriel Mason, you should not have returned to this city."
Each morning she beat her alarm to waking her. It was not by any internal device that she managed it, only a sort of body awareness that spoke of her self control. She sat up in her bed, sheets falling into a pile around her. She swung her legs off the bed, sliding her feet into slippers she knew to be there. Her torso was bare, shrouded in the darkness of the room, the only clothes she wore were small bed shorts. These were less for her comfort and more in case of a potential emergency. She found sleeping in clothes constricting.
Her eyes, those of an augmented human being, saw easily without the help of light in the room. They made no sound as she adjusted to the morning and looked around, stretching her body with small, precise motions that would ease any tension that had formed in the night. Her eyes were pink, though they looked dark red without light reflecting off of them. Her eyes were mostly organic, with cybernetic augmentations, which separated her from her predecessors.
She stood, giving one last mighty soundless stretch, and dropped her sleep shorts. Her floor was carpeted but bare of any misplaced items. The room as a whole was meticulously kept. She walked into the bathroom and took her morning shower. The fluorescent light was the first she had seen since waking, making her eyes readjust while she shielded them briefly from the brightness. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, something she rarely did after first waking up. Her eyes remained half lidded and her mouth made a thin wide line across her face. She looked utterly bored, even as she walked nude around her apartment, her athletic build and well shaped small breasts more than enough to draw the lustful stares of anyone who would chance upon such a scene. The look on her face however clearly demonstrated how little she cared for a such a thought.
The shower she took was quick and efficient. Shampoo, clean body, rinse shampoo, condition, rinse body, rinse conditioner. She put her hair up in a towel and took another to quickly pat herself dry.
She had the appearance of a woman; the face and body, the smell even. Her movements betrayed something else, something mechanical about her. Not mechanical in the sense that she was physically robotic. Simply, her personality was not to be found in any of her actions. This was a sequence, a ritual to be performed without significant deviation. There was no point in her applying her personality to it.
She went to her dresser and pulled out appropriate underwear. She stepped into her panties and fastened the clasp of her bra in front, and then twisted it around to the back. Opening the closest, she saw the various suits of immaculate cut that were available to her, and picked one in sequence, putting forth no effort in choosing.
She dressed herself, leaving the suit jacket on the hanger, laying it flat on the bed. She returned to the bathroom and dried her hair, then applied makeup to her face. She lined and shadowed her eyes, applied a light shade of red lipstick, and looked unfeeling into the reflection of her in the mirror. Her attention dropped briefly to her left arm. Midway up her forearm was the connection for her prosthetic system. This differed from the Type 06 and 05 series whose prosthetic were connected at the shoulder by large, obvious interfaces. Ambrosia's was much more discrete, at the loss of a bit of effectiveness. It would appear to most to be a bangle of some sort.
She left the bathroom, deactivated the light, plunging the room back into complete darkness. Her eyes adjusted to it quickly. She took her suit jacket from the bed and put it on, buttoning it up the front. She went over to the door and grabbed the sword that sat propped in a corner next to it. Her eyes betrayed nothing as she put it over her shoulder and tightened the scabbard to herself.
She left the room and proceeded directly to the elevator, which would bring her up to Stephan Apex' office.
The time was 5:25 am.
---
The city looked lovely that morning. The sun came up behind several of the buildings as it rose to its place high in the sky. Apex rarely indulged in looking at the city. Normally he found it quite ugly. Lately, however, he found himself in a much more positive mood.
He realized it in himself through his unusually sunny outlook he had been taking as of late, and knew without a second thought the cause
'Ambrosia has surpassed my wildest expectations. I banked on success, but I've truly found a diamond in the rough. She is all a BioSuit should be and more.'
In the weeks since her activation she had served him as dutifully as he imagined the loyalest knight might have served a king in medieval England. She did what he asked unquestioningly, and her cunning in executing open ended orders astounded him. He had no worries over any performance expected of her.
It was not the first time, but Apex found himself wondering what had produced her startling disposition of loyalty and effectiveness. Previous BioSuits had, as a rule, been anything but. The Type 06 in particular became a case study in the abysmal failure of disposition previous BioSuits had possessed.
'Is it the advancements in the brain via the man-machine interface? Have we returned something of her humanity by scaling down the size of the mechanical portion of her brain? Perhaps it is the new Artificial Intelligence that we developed for her purposes, the Lucretzia Drive. So different from the Dummy AI and Bill. Or is it merely the random elements of genetics and environment combined with all these features that have produced such a remarkable young woman? I'd be smart to keep her close, letting her loose only to complete the most important tasks. She's precious to me and the Underground already. If her successors in the Type 07 line are nearly as effective... I'll have more power than I imagined in my hands. Soon, very soon...'
As if summoned Ambrosia walked through the very large oak doors that lead into his office, striding across the expanse and taking her place behind him without a word. Apex smiled softly to himself.
"Are you ready for dinner tonight?"
---
Ambrosia fought the urge to comb her fingers down through her dark blue hair. Her hair style was somewhat aberrant, with her hair longer in the front and much shorter in the back. At its longest, it reached her collar bones, and on the back of her head where it was shorter, it still showed a bit of her neck above her collar.
She wore the same suit she had put on that morning, But Stephan Apex, who was sitting to her left in the limousine, had changed before they left from his office clothes into something more appropriate for the occasion. He looked silently out the windows, watching the glare of the street lamps fly past. Ambrosia kept her head perfectly centered, perfectly straight, looking into the black privacy window that separated the front of the vehicle from the back.
She shifted only her eyes, as she often did, to glanced at her watch, which was on her right wrist, her hands folded in her lap so as to keep that wrist on top. The time was 8:20 PM. They were making reasonable time, not that there was a chance that they would lose their reservation. Stephan Apex had if nothing else clout to those sorts of people.
Apex had commented on her hair earlier in the evening, when they walked through the underground parking lot from his private lift. The limo had been waiting.
"Your hair is very nice this evening, Ambrosia," and then he dipped his head and entered the vehicle. Ambrosia had hesitated and then followed, shutting the door behind herself.
'I wonder what goal he had in mind when he said that to me.'
It gave her a unconscious drive to comb her hair, the compliment serving to bring her attention to it regardless of what state it was in. She of course remained perfectly still, as was always the case unless she was called to action. Her eyes remained half open and disinterested, as they tended to.
---
The restaurant the pair arrived at, The Ambassador, was noted for its high prices, high profile, and high desirability. The Limo driver came around to open the door for Ambrosia. She inclined her head ever so slightly to him, indicating her appreciation, and stepped out, standing at attention while Apex climbed out. When he passed Ambrosia, the woman leaned in and whispered something into the driver's ear, who nodded and closed the door before returning to the driver's seat and driving off.
"I have told him to return by 9:30 at the latest, if he does not hear from us first."
"That's good." he said, looking over the somewhat gala like crowd that was mingling on the stairs leading into the building. Two great columns sat 20 feet from each other, giving the entrance a very large, though inviting appearance. The large staircase lead to an expansive front balcony, where a small get together were enjoying hor deouves and drinks.
The two ascended the stairs, Ambrosia behind as close as respectable distance allowed her to be from Apex. They passed through the party on the balcony, Ambrosia's strange hair gained a few glances. She felt just slightly naked, having left her sword in the limo at Apex' request. She took comfort in the fact that she was a living weapon, however, and expected if something occurred while they ate that she would be equipped to handle it.
'She lacks weapons, even a BLOCKSabre is too large, and she doesn't seem the type to carry a purse. Luckily she can kill with any part of her body. It is merely a dinner, anyway. If news of my identity circulated and came back to haunt me already I'd be in for more worries than simply being attacked in plain sight in a restaurant.'
Ambrosia kept a careful eye on their surroundings, remaining impeccably composed but her gaze constantly changing, looking for the possibilities of danger.
The two were taken to their table immediately. Ambrosia sat like a perfect model of lady-like composure, which amused Apex for some reason. Knowing her capabilities and what she would do at a command, it seemed almost silly that she would have good manners as well.
The sounds of conversation in the restaurant were low and intimate, the overall din quiet comfortable.
'That is better than it might be. I can hear well in this and identify potential threats.' Ambrosia thought.
Stephan was in an unusually good mood, despite what they would be doing after dinner. He had thought it before, but it was truly a marvel how well things had gone since.
'Was it since I decided to design the Type 07? That may be over simplifying it. In terms of functional loses, things began to improve for the organization around the time...
'Ah yes, it would have been when the Type 05B activated. We referred to his loss, the injuries to the Type 06, and his growing instability as failure, and yet they finally forced our hand. Now I have Ambrosia and a dozen more like her on the way. Many of our theories have been proven. If nothing else, things have finally fallen into place.'
Their waiter approached and took their drink orders, and when he returned took their meal orders. Stephan decided to have a steak, medium rare, with a baked potato and a soup to start. Ambrosia ordered a marinaded chicken breast and a salad. Apex sipped the whiskey the Waiter had brought and looked at Ambrosia.
'She's a very attractive woman. I created her, so obviously I put a bit of my taste into her. Still, her personality is like a veil across her face. It's hard to know how much of her is exposed and how much is submerged beneath the surface.'
"Ambrosia, I'm curious, why do you follow me so diligently? I've noticed you take extreme care with everything you do. I've seen men paid millions and millions of dollars who show less attention in their work."
Ambrosia let her eyes return to his face.
'What is he asking me? I suppose he wants me to indulge him in conversation.'
"There are several factors to examine there, but I find satisfaction in performing my job well. That is my purpose, that is what I was created for. Beyond that, I am charged with protecting you. The Underground's goals will not proceed without you."
"Oh, so you use me sort of like a tool, something to keep safe until it is needed?"
"I am here to keep you safe. I do not use you. But I recognize your value. We have value as a result of your existence. If you are killed, everyone in the Underground loses their value."
"Is value important?"
"It it the currency of importance. If I had no value you would not need me. I probably would not exist."
Stephan desisted. She had a point there, and he was only baiting her anyway. Her eyes regarded him curiously, but with a bit of irritation.
'She's not a very emotional person. That means she's not very good at hiding them when she has them. I'm sure she doesn't even realize what she's doing.' He chuckled with amusement, feeling the gold liquid on his tongue, swallowing, letting it burn a trail down his throat, then warm his belly.
"Ambrosia, what do you do on your off time, when you are not looking after me?"
She seemed to sag, almost imperceptibly.
'She's not much of a talker, but that didn't take much to figure out.'
"When I am not on duty, I often find myself either reading or exercising in the the gym."
"Exercising?" This surprised Apex quite a bit, "you have a perfect body capable of feats of strength, endurance, and speed that no human could ever hope to achieve. I'm not sure you'll find much benefit in exercise."
"I know that. I find my self restless at times so I go there to exhaust myself. It helps me..." she trailed off without finishing her thought. Apex noticed she made no attempt to finish it after having abandoned it.
'I think she meant to say relax but she's the type who doesn't want it to be known she lets her guard down.'
"Hmm, I see. What do you read, then?"
"I read about the BioSuits that came before me."
The matter of fact way she said this stuck with Apex, who placed his whiskey down to really look at her.
'What would she do that for? She has high level access, she probably knows most of the truth about the various failures that we've suffered before her birth.'
"Why's that?"
"It is interesting. I know I am not a human being, yet I have this desire to understand where I come from. They are less than 10 years old, the lot of them, but I still am curious about my," she paused this time, searching for a word, "Ancestors."
Apex was struck hard by this particular word, 'Not predecessors, ancestors. It's not obvious but she has a human heart as well as mind. She feels some amount of closeness with those failures that moved us to the point where she was possible. They are not just people she surpassed to her, they're family members who came before, who made her possible.'
Their food came at last, and the meal was completed more or less in silence.
---
A BioSuit, as a matter of design, has a two hundred year non-extendable life span. They are from birth designed to die immediately at the point their bodies have lived to that age. They will not age physically, and by all accounts their bodies will be in perfect condition at the time of their death.
There are many reasons for this. Apex, when he began considering his plan, never wanted to make immortals out of men. Human being were fragile, that is what he detested, but an immortal human would only breed filth, as eternal boredom took over, and great and greater acts of depravity had to be given birth to for the purpose of pleasure. Human beings too must evolve, and to do so the world cannot be choked with exponential generations of eternal human beings.
There was also the question of power. A BioSuit is after all powered primarily by a micro fusion reactor lodged in their belly. This can take the place of eating, drinking, and sleeping, though the BioSuit is designed to enjoy these things as well. The power from this reactor keeps the cells youthful until their forced termination.
The question of fuel became an issue. Because of the abundance of energy that normal operation of a BioSuit reactor creates, only a small amount of nuclear material was needed for each BioSuit. This was a boon, because in the event of a catastrophe, a BioSuit would not become a radioactive source. It also meant that replicating the abilities of BioSuits is difficult at best, particularly for governments that hinged their image on legitimacy and environmental accountability.
Apex had managed to purchase a small quantity in the range of 20 pounds of nuclear material from terrorist from Liberia. A large portion of that 20 pounds became the reactor that would replace the Deep 13s power supply, allowing it to work autonomously from the power grid.
The rest had gone to the BioSuits. Apex realized with the success of the Type 07 series that they would need to purchase more nuclear material to power future models. And of course, when mass production became possible, they would need gigantic quantities compared to the paltry sum he had gotten a hold of in 2007.
Ambrosia found herself very nervous after their dinner. She would have liked to have been the one driving the car; she could not trust the driver because she was not the driver. Apex seemed confident enough. This was mostly for Ambrosia's benefit, however. He was seeking nuclear material personally for his conspiracy against the world. It had the distinct possibility of going very wrong.
The driver pulled into an alley on the seedier side of town. It was the location Apex' contact had told him to come. With a slight nod Apex instructed Ambrosia. She didn't make a return nod of confirmation; he knew already that she understood. She opened the door, exited the limo, and closed the door again. Her sword was on her back now, a comforting weight even to a weapon like her.
She approached the stoop, her eyes scanning but her face a mask. She rapt on the door with the back of her hand.
"Who is here?"
"The buyer is here."
"What does he want."
"You know already what he wants."
"Show me."
Ambrosia walked back to the car, where the back window lowered. A large metal suitcase came through the window. Ambrosia took it in one hand and returned to the man at the door.
She opened it.
Inside were gold bars, unstamped, untraceable. Several million dollars worth. The man swallowed, his eyes wide. He regained his composure quickly, and brought out a large case. Ambrosia examined it. The outside was metal, the inside had been lined with lead. She could detect over 100 pounds of nuclear material in the case.
She glanced up at the man. "The transaction is complete. You may take your money. This never happened."
The man seemed to be getting misgivings but took the case and retreated into the building. Ambrosia lifted the massive case without a problem, sliding it into the trunk of the car which lowered considerably on its shocks. She turned and saw movement on the skyline. She almost dismissed it but it was obvious that something or someone had been watching what just took place. Her heart began to beat furiously and she tensed. She shut the trunk and went to Apex' window.
"I think we were seen. Return to the Underground. I will investigate and report my findings."
Apex felt a seizing of terror in his chest but managed to contain it after several deep breaths.
'These kinds of risks are necessary. We have what we came for. Let the girl do her job.'
"Ambrosia go. Do not make a scene. If you have to kill them, destroy the evidence."
Ambrosia nodded once and concentrated for only a moment before her wings burst through her jacket, strong and flapping. The driver said nothing and the car speed off, taking a round about route through the city before returning to the Underground. Ambrosia took off into the air, her massive wings beating, displacing the air around her.
She realized with a peripheral thought that this was the first time she had actually used her wings, the first time she'd flown outside of a Dive Machine. She did not take the time to enjoy the experience. She cut through the night sky in search of the person who had witnessed the transaction.
It was not hard to track them. She saw them dashing across rooftops like mad man. He was silhouetted in the night sky, but it was obvious he was desperate to get away. He had not planned on getting caught, but he was foolish enough not to have a quick escape planned. That told her he had not snuck in through one of the buildings at least. It's simple enough to assume that if he had, he could have disappeared without her being able to identify him.
'He is an amateur. But how did he know to find us there? What did he intend to gain. Is he working for the men we made the exchange with?'
She flew over head seeing him clearly. She folded her wings against her back and dropped into a free fall straight at him, slicing through the air like a bullet. At the last moment she extended her wings again, using them like built in air brakes that spun her around her prey. She looked into his eyes and saw with a start that she had seen this man before.
'Ah, that explains it. But everything I read told me he was not here. I suppose I could take the time to update the records. Apex will want to hear about this.'
The man took a step backward but had obviously not expected to escape her again. She could tell from his body language, he was poised for a counter attack. He wore the green uniform of the Underground, his prosthetic hanging limply but low, ready to be swung like a metal serpent.
"Gabriel Mason, you should not have returned to this city."