Part I: Exposition

Lieutenant Jonathan Davis whistled the tune to a hymn from Old Earth, something that’d managed to filter down to him through all the generations, to fill the silence in the glass-walled elevator as it ascended the side of the shining office building in downtown Heimburg, he its only passenger at the moment. His thoughts turned to the summons he had received by courier from his superiors the previous day. It seemed that they had a mission for he and his unit, and they wanted to brief him in the upper floor of this office building. It seemed like an odd place to meet to Davis, since the building supposedly housed offices of Bauhausian bureaucrats, but he wasn’t paid to complain. He was still a little suspicious – almost as suspicious as the Bauhaus guard who had eyed him from behind the guard desk, as he was entering the building. The guard had gotten up to stop him as he came in, alerted by the obvious and numerous cybernetic enhancements that Davis bore. Davis showed him his credentials and the summons, and the guard reversed his attitude, apologizing profusely for detaining him, and showed him directly to the elevators. That hadn’t done anything to help Davis’ suspicion.

Davis was starting to get a sinking feeling about the whole idea of another assignment. He didn’t mind fighting much, after all, it didn’t involve the same mortal terror for him as for non-cybernetic troops. He could always be repaired, or so he believed. He was simply not ready for another important assignment so soon, and neither were his men. He and his platoon had recently been involved in a battle with the Brotherhood in which they had done exceedingly well. They had inflicted near 100% casualties, with only one enemy escaping, somehow using the Art to retreat unnoticed. He had only lost only two men (green recruits, at that) and a Machinator unit, and his superiors were pleased with him and his unit. They were so pleased that they gave him and his men time off, and they had been catching R&R here in Heimburg for about a week. Davis had expected, after the success of his latest assignment, that his services would be called upon by his superiors quickly should another important mission come up. This excited Davis because it meant the possibility for promotion, but he wasn’t too hot on the idea of plunging back into the fray so soon. He realized, though, that he didn’t have a lot of choice.

Davis was shaken from his reverie by the gentle ping of the elevator’s bell, and he turned away from looking out the window to the doors of the elevator, as they slid noiselessly open. He stepped through the elevator doors, onto the 22nd floor of the office building. He was now in a small foyer, which was occupied on one side by a receptionist’s desk, and on the other by a number of chairs surrounding a table with magazines spread over it, presumably for those waiting for an appointment. Davis approached the receptionist’s desk, behind which sat a young woman. Davis was surprised at this – usually such jobs were filled by automated receptionists, and you had to be pretty important to get a real human for a receptionist. This wasn’t because receptionist duties were menial, it was because people who had the intelligence and ability to be a good receptionist were most often diverted into jobs more needing of their talent, such as scientists and engineers. Receptionists in the employ of Cybertronic had to be extremely good with numbers. Machines, on the other hand, could be programmed to fulfill a receptionist’s duties, despite their difficulty, but lacked the "people skills" that made a human receptionist so valuable. Shrugging, Davis handed the receptionist his papers.

"I have an appointment at 1500," said Davis.

"Yes, I know," said the receptionist, whose name was Ms. Rinehart, according to the sign on the desk. Davis already disliked her and her snooty, condescending attitude. Then again, he imagined that he’d be a little nasty if he were cooped up in this foyer all day, too. Davis waited patiently while Ms. Rinehart spoke to her boss using the intercom.

"Sir, a Lieutenant Davis is here to see you," she said.

"One moment," said the man’s voice on the other end, "I’m still in conference."

Ms. Rinehart gestured to the seats on the other side of the foyer, and Davis took a seat to wait. He pulled up the time on his internal HUD, and saw that it was 1455. He looked over the magazines on the coffee table, hoping to find something interesting to read in order to pass the time. Unfortunately, pickings were slim. There were a couple of issues of "Cybertronic Today," one or two newspapers from Heimburg, a copy of "The Luna Chronicler," and four consecutive issues of "Wired". Davis picked up the copy of The Luna Chronicler, and read without aim, to pass the time. He had always wished that they wouldn’t have discontinued The Luna Chronicler, he had always liked its content and style.

A few minutes later, Davis’ internal sensors set off bells and whistles inside his head. He pulled up the status report, and it seemed that his internal Scanner had picked up a massive energy jump within a hundred yards. Davis punched a few of the buttons on the panel in his forearm, and noted that the system didn’t seem to be malfunctioning. Then he remembered that his diagnostics couldn’t diagnose any problems with the Scanner, it being a separate add-on system. Either someone had just turned on a big source of power on a nearby floor, or his Scanner was broken. Davis figured it was just a malfunction.

Just as he resolved this problem, the intercom buzzed and the man on the other end told Ms. Rinehart to show Davis in. Davis stood as Ms. Rinehart walked over to open the door for him. She pulled one of the double metal doors, inscribed with the Cybertronic emblem, open and he entered the large office beyond, mumbling something about the "infernal Mishima scanners."

Davis took a few steps into the office, and stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping open. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The room he had entered was very large. The walls to his left and right, the ceiling, and the far wall looked like something out of the movies. They were covered in twisting pieces of metal, consoles, conduits, jacks, and monitors. It was beautiful, in its own way, so perfect in its mechanical creation. Lights blinked from hollows all over, and symbols flashed across some of the monitors, while pictures played across others. This was all spectacular, and novel even for Davis, but it wasn’t what really surprised him. Behind the desk in the center of the room sat Charles Sykes.

Sykes stood up, and walked over to greet Davis. He offered him is hand, and Davis shook it absentmindedly.

"Welcome, Lt. Davis," said Sykes in a soft, snakelike voice, "to my office. I don’t often occupy this one, but it just so happens that I’m here now. Largely because of you."

Davis looked confused.

"Well, here, have a seat," said Sykes, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. "I’ll explain."

Davis sat down, no longer thunderstruck by Sykes’ presence. Davis was rarely caught by surprise, and when he was, characteristically recovered from the shock rather quickly.

"As was indicated in the summons you received, your corporation is in need of the excellent services you and your men can provide. We’re sorry to take you off your vacation so quickly, but a mission of some importance has come to our attention, and we thought you and your men would be perfect for the job. It seems that a small factory near Cyberport has been taken over by Capitol, along with some of the land surrounding it. Cybertronic wants the factory back. Badly. Some prototype designs are contained in the memory of its computers, as it houses a secret underground research facility, and it’s imperative that those designs are recovered. Should you successfully assault the factory, clearing out all Capitol opposition, you and your men will be rewarded with great favor in the eyes of your superiors, including myself. Doubtless, there would be a promotion involved for you as well, Davis.

"Here are the schematics of the factory, along with various other details," said Sykes, handing Davis an envelope that, like so many Davis had received in the past, probably contained a datadisc with the information on it. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave for other business affairs," concluded Sykes, gesturing toward the door, as he stepped towards another door in a side wall.

Davis rose, and headed for the door to the office, as Ms. Rinehart opened it from the other side to let him pass. He heard the click of the other door closing as Sykes disappeared into the room beyond. Davis walked to the elevator, pressed the button, and stepped into the elevator as it arrived, sighing in wonderment at the unexpected events of his meeting. He still found it odd that Sykes himself gave Davis his orders, but then, you never really know what’s around the next corner when you live a life like his. He also noticed that his Scanner was no longer registering high energy readings. "It’s definitely on the fritz," he said to himself. He’d have to have the good doctor look it over. Davis watched the brilliant sunset over the city as he descended in the elevator, to return to the quarters where his unit was housed. He’d have to look over the hard copy briefing that night, and brief his platoon in the morning.

Rinehart nodded in compliance, and disappeared through a second door in the room marked ‘Exit’. Kent stood, picked up his copy of the Book of Law, and prayed for a minute before gathering his things to depart...