She detoured to a small metallic receptacle on the grass verge. She scanned her wrist and waited for the dispenser to give her two metallic flasks. She shook them gently before she activated the button on the side. "There you go." She handed one over to Darmen while she drank from the second container.

"Thank you, child."

The flask went cold as the chemical reaction in the reservoir lining had the desired effect. The cool liquid was welcome as their walk continued along the shaded pathway. Birdsong could be heard from a nearby tree. Of course, it wasn't a real bird but an animatronic one. No one was allowed to keep live pets anymore. There was so little left of the old days after the Food Riots of fifty-three and the Oxygen War of sixty-seven, even affecting nature and the environment. Thousands of species had been starved into extinction, while many thousands more struggled to gain a foothold and flourish. It was happening even now, but it was a slow process.

That was when the world stood at the brink and stepped back. A world governing body, the Union, was formed to repair the damage done. Massive tree planting took place as they tried to replace the earth's lungs. It took many years before they could finally breathe a sigh of relief but it had been done. In the meantime, scientists manipulated the atmosphere to bring rain to regions that had none. Large tracts of land were converted for planting food and raising animals. It had taken near extermination for the world to realize what was really important. Tarris hoped they didn't forget that lesson too soon.

"So, Tarris, what sort of work do you do that allows you to go for an idle walk?"

"Computer input, what else?" she lied.

"I'm sure you could find something else if you wish to change your profession." Darmen seemed genuinely interested in her welfare.

"I don't really care one way or the other. It's a job and it pays the bills." She looked at her friend walking beside her. "And what about you?"

"Me? Well, as luck would have it, I repair them, my dear."

"Then what are you doing here?" She gave him a friendly smile as she asked the question to take the sting out of the inquiry.

"Sometimes I just appreciate here more than my job."

"And you still have a job? You have a very understanding boss." Tarris wished for a boss like that.

"You're looking at him," he said straight-faced.

"You're the boss?"

"Don't believe everything you see, Tarris." She looked at him with new eyes. He certainly didn't look like an executive. Then again, she didn't look like an assassin either.

"Amazing. Do I know the company?"

"Computronics. But shhh, don't tell anyone." He grinned at her.

"Holy hell!" She was standing next to the boss of one of the largest computer companies in the world. "I... I..."

"Tarris, now listen to me." Darmen stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm still the same man as I was last week. I don't want to lose the friendship we have. It's nice to be treated as a man and not an icon."

Tarris looked into those eyes of gray to see the old man from the park. She really did like him. He was a free spirit who sought freedom in a city, and a job, that allowed very little. "Darmen, I couldn't care less if you were from the Council itself or a lowly rubbish collector. You're a nice man, and I'm glad to call you friend." Friend... yeah, he was a nice friend.

"I feel the same, my dear. I always look forward to your visits. I hope that won't change." Uncertainty filled those eyes, and she could see that he was wondering if he had driven her away with his revelation.

She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. "No it won't... my friend." She had a friend, and a friend who wanted nothing from her but her company. For all of her life everyone she came in contact with wanted something, all except him.

"I wanted to give you something, but I wasn't sure how to do it. Now you know who I am, and it'll be easier."

"I don't want anything from you-"

Darmen held up his hand to stop her words. "It's something we've been working on, and I'd like you to have it. If it will make it easier to accept, think of it as an experiment. You're testing out a new piece of equipment for us. How about that?"

"Testing new technology, huh?" One dark eyebrow rose as Darmen presented a brightly wrapped box to her. "Funny looking official red tape," she said. He stood idly by as she unwrapped the present and opened the box. "Errr... okay." She had no idea what the small electronic box was.

"It's for finding bugs, monitoring devices, homing signals, and such. The ultimate bug detector."

Tarris laughed. "A bug detector? I hope you're not going to call it that."

"Well, its official title is SFGD-13279A, but somehow I don't think that will convince people to buy it, do you?"

"Errr... I don't think so."

"We're working on something a bit more... snappy."

"I don't know what to say, Darmen." Tarris looked at him. "Darmen? Is that your real name?"

"No, but I'd like you to call me that. It's a name especially for you."

"For me?" Tarris could see he was smitten with her. "You're not making a pass at me are you?"

Shyly, he looked at her. "Maybe."

"Look, Darmen..."

"Okay, enough said."

She reached for him. "You are a very special man, Darmen, but it would never work. I think you know that."

"Yeah I know, dammit."

"We have a very special friendship, and I will work very hard at protecting that." She meant that, especially considering he was the only real friend she had. The crestfallen look on his face tore at her. "Tell you what. How about we meet back here in a few days, and we'll organize dinner. Does that sound good?"

Darmen smiled. "Yes... yes it does. I'm sorry, Tarris. It was just a foolish old man's dream, you know?"

"I'm flattered, Darmen, I really am. And I don't think you're foolish. My life is sort of... complicated at the moment, so I don't have much of a social life. I do look forward to these walks though. Why do you think I come here so often?"

"Oh... ohhh."

She knew she had said something right when his smile widened to a grin. They were two lonely people in search of company for a short while.

"Now, tell me about this box," she said.

Tarris hadn't intended to be in the park for such a long time, but she and Darmen got talking and the hours had flown by. Now at home, she was paying for it. Her upper back was sore from supporting the body suit, and she was sunburned. Not only did the holographic sun give light and warmth, but it also delivered those ultraviolet rays that her skin had an aversion to.

She found a small aerosol bottle and sprayed herself with it. The chemical mist solidified into a fine layer over her skin. By tomorrow morning, the sunburn would be a distant memory.

She gave the medipatch under her skin a gentle tap to release enough painkiller to dull the nagging ache. It was so easy these days to dull whatever ailed you. One patch to sleep, one patch to kill the pain, one patch for this and one patch for that. All of life's challenges were solved with a touch of the skin.

She studied the small present from Darmen. It was such a sweet thought, given without expectation of receiving something in return. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she already had one, courtesy of Administrator Derille, so a second one was superfluous. Maybe she would take it with her when she visited this mediprac, then she could say she had used it without feeling guilty.

She placed the electronic bug in her hiding place, along with the other devices, while she contemplated what the meeting with the mediprac would reveal. Would there be a chance of recovery? Would there even be a chance to try? Would she give up her dream to walk again if this avenue failed? The last question was something she really didn't want to face. To accept that this was how she would be for the rest of her life was depressing, and as long as she didn't make that decision, there was always hope. So she made none, as usual, and convinced herself that it was not time to give up just yet. She always reached that conclusion, because without hope, she was lost.

However, the mediprac was going to have to wait. The big operation tomorrow night took precedence over her life, and she had a feeling she was going to need all her wits about her for this one. She sighed as she wheeled herself into her bathroom to perform one of life's major obstacles, at least for her.

Chapter 3.

Tarris stared off into space while her dinner reconstituted itself. Her skin had been dutifully scrubbed clean, and her damp hair hung limply down her back. It had been a long day, and she was bone tired. Despite her apartment being full of things to keep her occupied, none of them appealed to her. In resignation she retired for the night right after dinner and let the medicated drug claim her and drag her down to somnolence.

"Tarris! Stop! Stop it! You're killing him!"

The words barely touched her consciousness as Rya pounded in her head. Waves of energy sprung from her and spread out like rippled water. Parson was within the grip of her power, and she wasn't letting him go anytime soon.

"Tarris!" She no longer feared her educator. Tarris had been growing away from the Institute, and her departure was imminent. They had tried everything to entice her to stay, but as far as she was concerned, all they were worried about was their loss of control of their most precious asset. There was no fairness here, so she had no choice but to dispense her own brand of justice. Parson was slowly losing his battle with her and was within seconds of losing his life.

One moment Tarris had been consumed by the anger and need for revenge that she and Rya had for this boy. She fed Rya's need just as Rya fed hers, leaving her a nuclear explosion waiting to happen. Her next recollection was the fall down the stairs, her body twisted, broken, and in pain with each collision of flesh against rock. The agony was slowly swallowing her whole as it tore away every defense she had to protect herself. When blessed unconsciousness came, she was grateful.

The darkness of her room held little comfort as Tarris awoke with a start. Her heart pounded, and a light sheen of sweat covered her skin. "Light... low," she murmured. She waited for the overhead glow to dim to an acceptable level. Tonight it was no help, and she was forced to darken her eyes. The headache that was pounding in her head was probably causing her intolerance to the light. Her limbs remembered the pain of that fall, the excruciating agony as muscle was torn from bone, the snapping of bones in her legs, and skin being ripped off her body.

A shudder flowed through her as her mind refused to let the past go. She tapped her wrist for the meds and prayed for relief. As the drug flowed through her body, she relaxed and allowed it to work. Why was she bringing all this up now? It had taken her quite a few years to put the accident behind her, but now her memory decided to punish her some more.

Life was hell in the ensuing months after the fall, and many times she wished for a quick death. The medipracs lost count of the number of broken bones she had, so instead concentrated their efforts on her broken back. What should have been a simple spinal fusion turned out to be a never-ending series of failing operations, each one trying to correct the mistakes of the one before it. It was at that point that the medipatches were inserted, and she was taught the dangers and benefits of self-medication. Finally, she gave up and just asked to be left alone.

Her mother had been by her side through it all, and it took its toll on her. She aged before her daughter's eyes. Tarris knew she had worried her, but she was not in a position to change anything. Tarris was helpless in the hospital until such time as the medipracs would release her. In a way, it was probably better that she was there and not at home. At least she wasn't a physical burden on her mother.

What had surprised her was that her mother left not long after her discharge, placing her care in the hands of the Institute. Numerous explanations were made, and while she understood some of them, it didn't take away the pain that her mother would give up her child. There was no way the woman could afford to attend to her "special needs," as the people at the Institute had called it, whereas they felt an obligation to look after her. Their obligation didn't keep her warm at night.

Now, sixteen years later, she had located her mother, but they still weren't together. Many times she wondered whether her mother's presence at the small working community was in exchange for the Institute paying for her medical care, but no amount of encouragement would bring her mother to the metropolis. And she was still alone.

Tarris lifted her arms and put her hands behind her head. She gazed at the ceiling while she contemplated her life. By the time they had given her the means to end her life, she no longer seriously considered it. There were the bad times, of course, where the thought passed fleetingly across her mind, but even in the worst circumstances, she willed herself to continue on. She was a fighter, she knew that, and her fighter's spirit, Rya, wouldn't let her take the easy way out. She'd been determined to prove she was still a valuable addition to the community.

When she was able, the Institute intensified her training, not only to build her shadow's ability but her own body as well. The power suit she wore was one of many gifts that made her life easier. In fact, now that she thought about it, the Institute's generosity was more than acceptable; it was an overabundance. Why was that? Tarris didn't consider herself anything special. Maybe it was a guilty conscience. While they constantly denied it was anything but an accident, maybe they were trying to make up for what was taken away on their premises. Not that they would ever admit it.

She turned her attention to the dream and tried to figure out why she was taunting herself with it now. The thought of this mediprac being able to help her had brought this all about. Yes, that was it. Her subconscious was making the connection between the fall and the researcher.

Tarris moved her hand to her face so her wrist was in her line of sight. The patch formed a faint lump where it sat under her skin. It had been there so long she didn't notice it anymore. The tattooed barcode, however, had been a recent improvement. Well, in her lifetime and since her accident. There had been a hue and cry about its introduction, freedom lobbyists bemoaning the possible abuse of the system. Considering what was happening now, they were very insightful indeed. That barcode was used to track suspected troublemakers. The "big brother syndrome," as it had been nicknamed about a century ago, had come to be. Those freedom lobbyists were the first ones to be silenced in the name of unity and cohesion. If they were to survive against the other mega-dominions, there could be no dissension, or so the governing party told them.

As much as Tarris felt uneasy about the government control, she wasn't stupid enough to say anything.

Rule Five in her Survival Handbook: Never reveal your political leanings... to anyone.

That rule was a big one as far as she was concerned, and it was one that could see her on the hit list that was so judiciously kept by the Prime, Roden Sholter. She wasn't part of the cause; she was part of the solution.

When had the government converted from democracy to totalitarianism? It had been a subtle and well-crafted move on the part of the Prime and his ministers. World politics had been favorable, and the Prime used the excuse of defense and unity to slowly shift power. Before anyone realized what had happened, new laws had been passed and put in place. Some of the opposition still believed they had a say in the running of the state. Not that Tarris was privy to such information. Much of it was hearsay. Whatever the government had in mind was a well-guarded secret.

All this deep thought was feeding her headache, and precious sleep was eluding her. Tarris looked at her wrist again. She knew very well that she was addicted to the drugs, but she was not going to sleep on her own. She rubbed her wrist gently, slowly releasing the sedative into her system. As her eyelids began their descent, she murmured "Light off." She hoped she would be allowed some peace of mind.

The next afternoon, Tarris found herself standing in front of the Archive building. She had spent many hours here immersed in the past, which seemed a much nicer place than the present.

"Ah, Trooper Waite. Back again so soon?" The plexiglass screen was blank, as it always was with its greeting.

"Yes, Archiver. What's showing today?"

"One of the classics from a hundred years ago. We had a number of requests for a re-screening."

Don't say it. Don't say it. Tarris cringed as she awaited the words she had come to abhor.

"Bill and Till's Excellent Adventure!" the robot announced.

Damn... and the day had started so promisingly.

"Not to your liking, Trooper?"

"I was in the mood for one of the older ones."

"How old?"

"Fifty years before that. Something like... like...." She hadn't come to the Archive with any specific film in mind, just something to remove her thoughts from the mission ahead. "How about The Wizard of Oz?" Her trip to the park yesterday had brought the film to mind.

"That one is out on loan." The words came out flat, as if expressing an opinion.

"Damn, I was in the mood for that."

"There is a screening of The African Queen in Room 32-908."

"Fine. And I would like to book The Maltese Falcon and... and... Gigi." She rather liked the musicals, much to the disgust of the Archiver. Maybe she did it just to annoy the grumpy piece of circuitry who tried to discourage her taste in such films.

"It will be ready for pickup when you emerge, Trooper."

"Thank you." She had been here often enough to know her way around the myriad of floors and doors quite comfortably and found the room she wanted at the far end of corridor 32. Barely a handful of people were present for the screening, all sitting and waiting for the film to start. As always, Tarris took a seat at the back.

Rule Six in her Survival Handbook: Always keep your enemies in front of you to avoid getting stabbed in the back.

No one stabbed anymore. More efficient ways of doing that were available. Still, the sentiment was the same. The holoscreen went black as the titles came up, and Tarris lost herself in the fantasy for a while. She enjoyed watching the old color 3-D films in their natural state. It made her feel more human.

The film was barely halfway through when her wrist computer tapped her. The tiny illuminated screen delivered its message and switched off, returning the room to semidarkness. Tarris frowned. She really hated leaving in the middle of a screening, but she had no choice. The Monitor had called an emergency meeting.

She arrived at the monotone building with little trouble. The sun had finally been given a reprieve and was valiantly trying to dry out the mass of puddles that dotted the city. The cool air hit her as she walked through the front door, and she sighed in relief. Her leather coat was not the best piece of clothing to wear when the sun was out.