matapam (pamuphoff) wrote,
matapam
pamuphoff

_Agent of the 300_ addition to Ch. 1

Because some up coming scenes need a little foreshadowing otherwise they will be a surprise in a bad way.


His boss finally shrugged. "Go home. I'll contact you . . . when I have something for you to do."

Axel nodded, and turned for the stairs. It wouldn't do for my family to know what I do in my spare time.

A quick stop at his locker in the basement gym for a change into the local styles—the Russian/German that would have gotten him killed on Neu Frankfort. Leave the AV--its memory would be completely drained--and put on the watch. Transfer the two matching pens to the new shirt pocket.

"So are those Secret Agent pens?"

Axel looked around. "Hey, Murph. Yep. I'm specially trained in making a style of scribbling called letters. I can make letters in patterns on paper, or walls, or anything, really. And other people with the same training can do this thing called reading . . ."

He ducked a friendly swat. Murph was a large, strong, well trained Cyborg. A soldier of the Imperium. Probably a "Leader" variety of the military Cyborgs. One didn't ask for specifics.

"And you didn't bring us along to have some fun?"

"I regret to say there was nothing to bash, smash, shoot, or blow up. It was boring."

"Ah, poor old bored Igor." Murphy made a patting motion over his head, and walked on, grinning. He and his team of very efficient destroyers of anything or anyone they were pointed at, had the usual identification numbers of Cyborgs, but since those could be traced, they all used nicknames. Just like me.

And they're probably half the reason I hate the civilian Cyborg mod that interferes with intelligence, creativity and mentalist talent. And the servant and wife chips. The Pleasure girl and boy chips are horrors I prefer to not think about.

And it's all so unnecessary. Historically, it was all supposed to be like the Executive chips. Added memory, calculations, a data bank . . . Helpful; boosting us superior Mentalists to greater heights. Not enslaving and controlling the other ninety percent of the population.

It was dark out, here in northern Africa. Always an adjustment when coming in from across, although Neu Frankfort's capital city in the center of the North American Continent wasn't quite the worst World to adjust back from.

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