Digby's Bluff

Slowly, the red giant began to rise above the planet's craggy horizon. Iridescent light filtered through the dome wall, indicating the beginning of a new day. On a deserted street, a haggard man lay slumped against a shop-front. As the light grew brighter he stirred, showing a few faint signs of life. The brainlock gradually re-activated Digby's consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and he grew accustomed to his new surroundings. The streets were empty, the shop fronts shuttered. Litter covered the street on which he lay.

A cool breeze started to blow, causing some of the trash to tumble down the footpath. A lone cat mewled loudly in the distance. Digby sat up, rubbing the arm that he had been lying on, slowly improving the circulation. Stretching, he glanced to his right and saw a data deck lying on the ground beside him. It stirred his memories. He stood up and shivered, pulling his jacket about him to keep warm. As he picked up the data deck, he recalled what he was supposed to do.

"Shit," he muttered and started walking.

Angrily, he kicked an empty can across the street.

"Why the hell does it have to be me?" he wondered.

The stopwatch of his life had just begun.

As Erstol's red giant rose over the horizon, the night lights dimmed in the domed city. The morning dew on the inside of the dome gradually evaporated. Shadows stretched eerily in the dark alley to which he had made his way. The alley way was a dead end, walled by high-rise buildings of an earlier period of construction. Fire escapes snaked up the sides of the buildings on either side of the narrow street. Droplets of water plinked against the grimy ground having escaped through corroded roof gutters. Uncollected trash lay in rancid heaps by the walls. A small, dark creature snaked by Digby's feet and hissed at him. Its eyes flashed past him in the darkness like two small moons. The fast moving lizard scurried off over a steaming sewer grill, angry that it had been disturbed from feeding on the juicy morsels.

Dark patches of sweat marked Digby's jump-suit with confessions of fear. Briefly, he stopped under a neon street lamp which over-looked the alley way. The light buzzed and flickered above him erratically. To compose himself, he lit a cigarette but found its taste too mild. He dragged hard on the cigarette and then let it fall free from his hand where it landed in a puddle of water. It hissed and died. From his vantage point, the tumble-down warehouse at the end of the alley was now visible. He felt uncomfortable, unused to the cloying dampness. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and walked towards it, remembering the team's instructions. "Shit," he muttered.

There were floaters parked outside the warehouse; large black ones whose engines were turning over, almost purring, as he approached. He stopped at the entrance to the warehouse; a white line marking the entry point. He stepped through the pressure curtain and felt a cold breeze roll against his back. He shivered and then scanned the dim confines of the warehouse. It was dark but he could discern shadows moving within the shadows, veiled by the darkness.

A thumb and index finger clicked together, snapping Digby to attention. Emerging from the shadows, a suited man wearing a clown's mask stood forward, straight backed. Casually, he flicked off the safety on his gun with a flick of his thumb. "You bring it?" asked the clown. Digby nodded and raised the data deck. Unexpectedly, another man appeared behind Digby, wearing a Werewolf mask and frisked him thoroughly. The Werewolf disappeared back into the shadows.

"Mister X wants to see you," said the clown. He waved Digby forward with his gun. A ripple of sweat dribbled down Digby's neck. In the warehouse, darkness shrouded him, covering his body like a veil of death. "That's far enough," said the clown. "Now put the merchandise down and take three steps back."

"What about the money?" asked Digby, flexing his jaw-line, feeling he was about to be had.

"You'll get the money when we verify the merchandise," said Mister X who was standing behind the clown. Digby hadn't seen him in the dim light. He too was wearing a mask; that of a joker. The clown took the data deck from the ground and gave it to Mister X who walked off to verify the contents. Moments of quiet inaction passed which seemed to last for hours. More ripples of sweat dribbled down Digby's face as the clown kept his gun trained on him. He tried to out-stare the gunman.

Suddenly, a sound hissed along the ground like a snake. A briefcase bumped against Digby's feet. "There's your money," said Mister X. "Enjoy it." He turned assuredly and walked away quickly with the clown. The sound of their footsteps echoed and faded away until all Digby could hear was his own breathing and the rushing of the blood in his ears.

"I intend to," muttered Digby, opening the case.

Outside the warehouse, the floaters lifted off gracefully and swung over the decaying buildings.

Having checked the money, Digby emerged into the daylight and placed his arm over his eyes, adjusting to the brighter light. He relaxed when he realised that he was alone. He felt dizzy with delight. Unexpectedly, his ecstasy and joy turned to nausea. His stomach cramped up. Staggering over to the warehouse wall, he leaned against it for support and threw up. His stomach was empty but it retched anyway; spasming like a wet towel being squeezed dry. Gradually, the nausea subsided. Straightening himself up, he wiped his mouth.

He looked at his watch and broke into a trot as he exited the steamy alley way. He touched the black centre of his signet ring. A concealed floater lifted off a nearby roof and landed beside him.

"Destination?" inquired the floater as he hopped in.

"Gefferson's Square. Make it fast."

The square was crammed with people going about their daily business. Digby sought anonymity in the bustling crowd. Trying to look innocuous, he bought an ice-cream and sat on a bench by Gefferson's famous holographic water fountain. Despite his relaxed appearance, he was keeping his eyes peeled. A young boy walked up to him unexpectedly and thrust a note into his hand before darting off, diving back into the crowd.

Slowly, Digby unwrapped the neatly folded note and read the printed message. "Meet you for a drink by the bar in Don Vatros - Gumgum." Looking about the square, he saw the Cafe-cum-bar and stood up. He walked across the flagstones and stopped briefly beside a bedraggled tramp who was lying on a street corner. "I know what it feels like," said Digby, glancing at the gutter stains on his own clothes and gave the tramp the untouched ice-cream, dropping some money into his other hand.

There were people sitting outside the Cafe, chatting easily to one another, sipping their drinks. Digby entered and sat by the quiet bar.

"The usual?" said the barman. Digby nodded easily, trying to appear like he recognised the barman. Bastards wiped everything! he realised with dismay. He took a handful of bar snacks and sipped his drink. The beer tasted awful and he swallowed his first sip reluctantly, then pushed it away and glanced about him casually.

He looked at his hands and realised that they were shaking uncontrollably, then clenched the bar top tightly. Glancing to his right, he saw a dwarf walking his way. The small man with the large head and hefty over-coat climbed onto the stool and sat beside him. Digby frowned. "Beat it shortie. I'm waiting for someone," he said.

"Sundance," said the dwarf. The word triggered a memory and Digby suddenly recognised Gumgum.

"Ehm sorry, I didn't..." replied Digby.

"Were you followed?" interrupted the dwarf.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I did check."

Gumgum glanced about him. "Where is it?" he asked. Digby took the briefcase from his lap and placed it on the bar. "You checked it?" asked Gumgum.

Digby nodded. "Of course!"

The dwarf threw some money on the bar to pay for the beer. "Ok. Get a move on. The others are waiting." Gumgum hopped off the stool. Digby grabbed the briefcase from the counter and followed suit. Both men stopped in their tracks as three police floaters landed in front of the Cafe. "Shit!" muttered Digby. An officer got out of the first floater and looked their way. Gumgum reacted quickly and took hold of a weapon concealed beneath his over-coat. Digby wheeled around and immediately dived for cover. The dwarf began firing indiscriminately. Laser beams lanced through the air. In the Cafe, people dived for cover as the front windows gradually melted and cracked. The first officer who climbed out of the floater was gunned down, taking a laser blast in the face, leaving a steaming hole where there had once been a nose.

The other officers returned fire as they took cover.

Digby lurched backwards, crawling frantically to the back of the Cafe, having no weapon. The police began firing at him as he tried to make his escape. "Motherfuckers!" he shouted as drinking glasses splattered molten glass about him. "I'm not the one with the gun!" He crawled on his hands and knees across the floor, making his way past a family of wailing, terrified children. Momentarily, he glanced at them, fearing for their safety, then crawled on. Sparks flew everywhere and bottles of alcohol shattered, then burst into flames. The arm of his jacket caught fire and he stamped it out frantically.

At the front of the cafe, Gumgum fired another volley of shots through the Cafe's window. His superior fire power began to take its toll. Innocent bystanders were caught in the line of fire as they tried to hide and fell like nine-pins. Panicking, the other officers called for additional support and ducked behind their floaters.

Sensing his moment, Gumgum glanced above the bar, hopped on a bar stool and leapt over the bar. He ran to the back of the Cafe and Digby followed him into the Cafe's kitchen. "Everybody down!" shouted Gumgum, kicking open the service door. He fired into the roof and the cooks dived behind their ovens for cover. However, two police officers were waiting at the back entrance and they returned fire. Reacting quickly, Digby lunged behind a refrigerator. Gumgum was struck in the arm. He fell behind a cooker and immediately took a grenade out of his jacket. Angrily, he pulled the clip and threw it. "Stay down!" shouted Gumgum, looking at Digby.

"Tell me something I don't know!" replied Digby, clutching the case close to his chest.

The grenade arched over the kitchen and landed beside the back door, rolling to a halt. It exploded in a thunderous flash. The shuddering blast took out part of the back wall, killing the two officers. Billowing black smoke began to fill the air. Part of the ceiling had given way and a burst pipe showered the kitchen with water. Digby climbed onto his feet and touched his signet ring, summoning the floater. He wiped some splattered food from his hair. There was blood dripping from Gumgum's arm but he managed to stagger onto his feet nevertheless.

"Hurry up!" shouted Digby beside the tumble-down wall, glancing at Gumgum. He turned and looked down the back street through the dust and smoke. The floater approached on automatic as it wove its way up the narrow alley way at high speed.

Behind him, Gumgum was struck by a stun blast. The shot had come from the police in the Cafe who had advanced upon hearing the explosion. Gumgum spasmed and fell awkwardly to the ground; arms spread-eagle. The gun dropped out of his hand and skidded towards Digby who ran forward and picked it up.

Instantly, Digby fired at the service door to the kitchen and the police marksman retreated. "Come and get it!" he shouted and fired at the door again. Soon though, Digby knew the police would soon be coming through the door in force. Slowly, he aimed the weapon at the diminutive figure on the floor and paused very briefly. "Your luck's out. You know too much; I just wish I did," he said, grimacing and pulled the trigger, drilling a hole through the dwarf.

The floater arrived with its door open. Digby turned and jumped in.

"Go!" he shouted, slamming the door shut.

"Fasten your safety belt," replied the floater and it made a sudden, steep climb, pulling two Gs. Digby's stomach heaved.

The pre-programmed floater took him to the east side of the city where he was to lie low until the team made contact with him again. No eventuality had been over-looked. However, Digby slammed his fists angrily off the dashboard. For him, everything had suddenly fallen apart. His migraine had returned and he could feel the blood pounding in his skull.

"Course change," said Digby, levelling his temper.

"New destination?" inquired the floater.

"Take me to the largest bank in the city," he said decisively.

The floater swooped towards the commercial centre.

I've had enough of this duck shoot. From now on, I'm doing what I want, he thought.

In the bank, he tried to appear calm and relaxed as he opened a new account. His hands shook badly as he wrote his name on the terminal screen, producing handwriting as awkward as a child's. He ignored it. Compensating, he scrawled the rest of his name on the screen, trying to make it look deliberate. His retina was then scanned and he was issued with an account card which amongst other things gave him access to a safety deposit locker. Quickly, he opened the case and pocketed some of the money for his own use before locking it away. He felt the burden of carrying so much money around with him lift as he shut the door and withdrew his account card from the card reader. He slapped the door reassuringly.

As he exited the bank, he began to feel weak and dizzy again. The nausea had returned and he stood by the wall, leaning against it for support. This time though, Digby fought the queasiness in the rush hour crowd. He wiped his dry lips. Slowly, the sensation began to fade and the shaking subsided. "Come on, control it!" he told himself. Steadying himself, he stood up straight and crossed the road. The floater opened its door for him and he sat in.

"Destination?" inquired the floater.

"Give me a list of memory specialists," he said, slamming the door shut. The floater pulled off and Digby massaged his aching temples.

The shop-front was lit up with garish neon signs which flickered and buzzed haphazardly. Behind the consumer console attached to the shop-front, a hologram of a rotating human brain was displayed. A bullet-point list indicated what could be done by the memory specialist. Digby honed in on the Memory Recovery feature in the list.

"Just what the doctor ordered," he said.

He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the shop-front and was aghast at his haggard appearance. There were dark lines beneath his eyes. His once sharp features had sagged, ageing him perceptibly. The bastards owe me, he thought, clenching his fists angrily.

As he entered the empty shop, a holographic face appeared above him. "Welcome. Please take a seat. You will be served shortly." The hologram fizzled away and Dibgy looked about him. Tatty posters of the human brain littered the wall. A grimy mannequin with a sliced away skull, lay awkwardly against the back wall. In the waiting room, a shabby entertainment console buzzed and flickered, in need of some maintenance.

The shop was empty. It was badly situated, too far away from the main shopping districts which was why Digby had chosen it. Once more a hologram appeared in front of him. This time however, a hologram of a doctor's head appeared. The projection peered at the man in the waiting room.

"You here for a check-up?" the doctor asked.

"No. I've lost my memory," he replied.

The physician looked distastefully at the unkempt state of the man in his office.

"I'll pay whatever it costs," said Digby, rubbing his sweat laden hair back from his face. He pulled a wad of notes out of his pocket, then waved them at the hologram bluntly.

"This is a reputable practice, I don't take cash," continued the doctor, but Digby could see his patent avarice.

He pulled out another wad of notes. "This enough?" he asked nonchalantly and the physician overcame his caution.

"All right," replied the doctor. "Come on upstairs and I'll see what I can do for you." The hologram fizzled away and the locked door to the surgery clicked open. Before going upstairs, Digby checked the gun in the back of his trousers, making sure it was well concealed.

In the upstairs surgery, the doctor sat Digby into a comfortable chair and stood opposite his patient.

"Can you remember anything at all?" asked the physician. He took out a portable card chart and opened up a new record.

"No," replied Digby. "All I know is that I woke up in an alley this morning with no memories. Before that, you know as much as I do." He began to feel weak and dizzy and he blinked rapidly, wiping his sweaty brow. His hands had begun to start shaking again.

The doctor frowned and lifted his patient's sweaty chin, noting his sudden discomfort. He pulled his eyelid down, and peered in at the bloodshot skin, then released it. He noted the unusual discoloration on his patient's sclera. He looked for contusions on his scalp, possibly indicating a mugging, but found none.

"You feel nauseous?" queried the physician while taking his blood pressure.

Digby nodded.

"Much?" queried the doctor.

"Occasionally," he replied, wiping his lips. "It comes and goes."

"Do you break into cold sweats at the same time?"

"Yes," replied Digby. "Is it something to do with my memory loss?"

"Just one more question," said the doctor. "Do you get cravings as well?"

He nodded, beginning to grow impatient. "What's wrong with me?"

"It could be Thysenol dependency but I can't be sure." He proceeded to look at Digby's gums and teeth, checking for any tell-tale discoloration. "I specialise in the brain but I'd hazard a guess that you're experiencing some kind of drug induced symptoms," he said.

"Thysenol?"

"Yes, it's a common-place designer drug. Can have quite nasty side effects though if taken in too high a quantity. Still, I've never heard of it causing memory loss before so let's look at that problem shall we?" continued the doctor. "Lie back please. I'm going to do a quick scan of your brain. Won't hurt at all. You might feel a light tingling sensation on your scalp but nothing worse than that. Please close your eyes."

Digby relaxed and the doctor placed a DataSQUID helmet over his skull. It began scanning his brain and he slipped into a trance-like sleep. The doctor calibrated the machine as it built up a holographic image of his patient's brain on a work-bench opposite them. The physician raised his eyes as the neural-net configuration assembled. "Interesting," he muttered, looking at the unusual brain activity and chewed on his pen. He played with the data deck settings in order to enhance the resolution.

A buzzer hummed in the office, distracting the doctor. He turned to his holoview screen. Two new customers were standing in the waiting room.

"You here for a check up?" he asked.

The doctor's surgery was air conditioned. The filtration fan thrummed harmonically, stirring the soothing wind chimes. A flickering neon light shone into the neat room, casting slatted shadows through the venetian blinds. Digby lay back in the green, leather upholstered seat close to the window. A cool breeze crept across his face. His breathing was deep and regular. The brain scan was over but he still remained in a light sleep.

Suddenly, there was another noise in the room which was followed by sounds of a struggle. The doctor let out a muffled cry. The brain scanner was raised from Digby's head and he slowly came to. His heavy eyes fluttered open, focusing on the room. A wedge of light from the venetian blinds covered his face. Digby rubbed his eyes and looked at the doctor who was sitting across from him.

The physician's face was pale white and he wore a necktie of blood where his throat had been cut open from ear to ear. The incision had been smooth and clean, almost surgical. Digby's eyes first froze on the corpse and then snapped to the two people standing beside it.

The memoryform blade dissolved in the assassin's hand and reformed, turning into an innocuous looking cigarette lighter. He dropped it into his pocket and wiped his bloody hands against the doctor's white overcoat. Finally, he massaged the fold of artificial skin which covered his neck, back into place.

Android, thought Digby. He realised the skin must have been clawed at by the struggling doctor before his death. The android walked quickly over to the brain scanner and flicked it off. The image fizzled away. He picked up the portable card chart and snapped it in two effortlessly. Digby tried to get up while the two people had their backs to him but found himself unable to. His hands had been strapped firmly to the arms of the chair.

The woman immediately turned around as Digby tried to make his escape. She glared at him; her expression one of repressed anger. She flicked her long blond hair over her shoulder and walked toward him. She had eyes like two pale sapphires.

"He's awake," she said and stood over Digby, placing her hands by her side accusingly, legs spread wide.

The android turned around and stood alongside her.

"You stupid bastard, a few more minutes and he would have reported an illegal brainlock." She clenched her fists. "Where's the money?" she shouted furiously.

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Digby.

She tried to hit Digby but the android caught her hand.

"Remember, he doesn't know who we are," said the android, calmly. Reluctantly, the woman pulled her hand away.

"He knew enough to try and get his memories back without us!"

"The meet with Gumgum fell through. He panicked, that's all. Survival is man's strongest instinct. It's quite an understandable human reaction in light of the circumstances." The android turned to face Digby. "Do you know who I am?" he asked calmly. Digby looked away, ignoring the android. "Do you know who she is?" he continued.

"My fairy Godmother," replied Digby.

"Remember the street this morning? We put you there," said the android but Digby was still unresponsive. "Cassidy," said the android.

Digby felt the ground spin beneath him. His head reeled and he grabbed hold of the arm chair for support. His breathing slowed and he suddenly recognised the face in front of him. It was Thackeray.

"Who's half-brained idea was it to do the exchange this way!" demanded Digby.

"Yours, half-brain," replied the woman harshly.

Thackeray tapped Digby on the shoulder. "You made it; that's all that counts," he replied.

"Gumgum didn't. I had to drill him before the cops got to him," muttered Digby. "What's your trigger?" he asked, looking at the woman.

"Butch," she muttered, still scowling.

"Figures," muttered Digby. Once more, the brainlock unravelled and he recognised the face. Fay, he thought.

"You recognise me now?" she said, walking over to him.

He nodded. "How could I ever forget," he grinned, remembering his passionate love making with her.

"You remember your promises of loyalty to me - to us all?" She leaned down towards him until their lips nearly met. Digby's eyes closed and he waited for one of her soft welcoming kisses.

"You lying bastard!" she shouted and head butted him.

In his semiconscious state, Digby remembered the theft. A wet weathercontrolled mist had clung to the land that day. A page of history repeated itself...

Fat drops of rainwater slid lethargically down the plastic windows in the operations room. It was hot and stuffy. The stench of stale sweat and coffee saturated the oppressive airways. Strewn about the assembled team was a plethora of networked computer equipment. Cables were attached to the back of Thackeray's head. He acted as the server, connecting the Cyberchambers to Citynet. Methodically, Thackeray tracked the network, looking for a way in.

Suddenly, a small red light flashed on the console, indicating that contact had been established. Everybody took their places.

"Confidence is high people. Take your places," said Gumgum

Digby lay down in his Cyberchamber.

"Jump signal on channel 7, locking in," said Thackeray.

Fay spoke up painfully. "Thack, there's signal distortion." Her nose began to bleed.

"Fix it Thack!" shouted Digby before connecting.

Thackeray compensated immediately and Fay sighed easily.

"Networking is clean. Server is now giving us pure analogue," he responded. "Spinal linkup on subnet four. Neuralnet coupling established with Citynet. We're in the pipe."

Digby let out a light moan as he jacked in. Thackeray stayed in the real world, acting as a homing beacon for the return journey from the matrix.

"Consensual neuralnet A-OK," said Thackeray.

Music to my ears, thought Digby, unable to speak any more, caught in a Cyberspace limbo.

"Group privileges set. Trojan defence operating. Backdoor failsafe on predicate DROPOUT," continued Thackeray in his methodical fashion.

Easy for you to say. You won't be the one who'll be landing without a parachute, thought Digby.

"Citynet procops functional. Happy hunting!" finished Thackeray.

They entered the Cyberspace matrix and the android's voice disappeared. Digby watched the bigbang. A beam of electrons shot out from a vanishing point to construct the city below them. Citynet assembled before Digby's eyes. He gasped. Digby felt himself falling out of known space and spiralled into innerspace. Fay grasped his arms and they spiralled downward together. "Love you," she whispered to him and Digby clasped her hands tighter.

"LZ dust off and prep in tminus 5 secs, people. Look sharp," said Gumgum as the ground drew closer...

As Digby woke up, the memory began to fade away. It seemed so long since the theft of the information about the Citynet director. Nightmarishly, his mind's eye focused on the bawdy streets of Erstol. He saw Fay and Thackeray walking slowly towards him with outstretched hands, urging him to come over to them. He felt cold and afraid; distrustful of them in this place and wondered why?

The cold water flicked against Digby's face woke him up. Expertly, Thackeray checked the bones in Digby's neck for any signs of damage. There were none. However, a large bruise had formed on Digby's forehead and the android touched it gently. "Easy!" he complained.

Concluding his examination, Thackeray estimated that the probability of life threatening damage from the collision of heads at one-point-two-seven percent.

"I don't want to hear it," replied Fay. She was angry and irritable enough as it was. Thackeray told her to sit down and he began massaging her back. He informed her that it would decrease her metabolic rate and chances of stress related illnesses. Fay didn't complain.

"How did you find me?" asked Digby, touching his bruised head.

"I established a comms-link with your floater and it told me," replied Thackeray.

"Where's the money?" interrupted Fay.

"It's in a safety box," replied Digby. He was beginning to feel weak again. "Why the fuck are my hands always shaking?" he shouted angrily. The team members glanced at each other.

"It's a side-effect of the brainlock," said Thackeray. "Don't worry, it will pass."

"When?" he asked irritably, rubbing the back of his sore neck.

"Tomorrow, no later," answered Thackeray.

"Good," muttered Digby. He glanced at the corpse on the floor which had been covered over with a white sheet. "Why did you kill the doctor? He didn't know anything."

"Why did you come here in the first place!" interrupted Fay. "Why didn't you go to the east side instead? What happened to him is all your fault," she accused.

"To hell with you!" replied Digby, standing up. "I stuck my neck out for both of you. You've programmed me to act like a machine. Well, I'm not a fucking machine! If you'd wanted one, why didn't you send Thack instead?!" Digby kicked over a table and the instruments crashed onto the floor. "I ought to kill the both of you for what you did to me!" he snorted and sat back down, feeling his migraine intensify, rubbing his eyes as flashes of white light appeared in front of them.

"Look, you pulled the short straw. It could have been me," replied Fay, moving beside him.

Digby pulled away from her, recalling her previous treatment of him, but she leaned forward and kissed him fleetingly on the lips this time. "Don't worry, you'll be back to yourself in no time. Once we get the money, we'll recover your memories," she said but her voice faltered as she finished the sentence. She stood up and walked over to the surgery window where she looked through the venetian blinds, hiding the expression in her eyes. She seemed lost in her thoughts as the light cast slatted shadows across her face.

"OK. Let's get the money," said Digby, breaking the pensive silence.

I want my life back, he thought, touching his bruised head. After that, you can both go to hell.

In the bank, Digby withdrew the briefcase from his locker and exited the building. Fay and Thackeray waited for him in their floater. As Digby emerged from the building, they stared greedily at the briefcase in his hand. Immediately, the floater door opened and Digby sat in the front seat beside Fay.

"Open it!" she ordered. Digby did so, revealing the untraceable money. She reached out to touch her new wealth but Digby snapped the briefcase shut.

"Later," he replied, containing her avarice. "You'll get it when I get my memories back. Drive."

Fay nodded and glanced at Thackeray in her rear-view mirror.

Erstol's sun slowly descended behind mount Karakai. On the surface, the city was quiet but electronically it was a hive of activity. The sodium vapour lights slowly flickered on in the dome; dyeing the myriad streets and buildings as if with a monochromatic stain.

Waves of orange light, emanating from the overhead street lamps, swept past the fast moving floater. On either side of the automobile were massive corporation buildings. Fay lowered her floater window and let the cool air pass through her hair, allowing it to flow wildly. Now that they had the money, she was calmer. Thackeray sat in the back seat, mute but observant.

Fay glanced at Digby and he smiled back at her. He noted the way that the light caught her proud features.

"You stare more than normal," she commented, keeping her eyes on the road. She pulled off the main road and took a float tube, leading into the industrial sector.

"Where are we going?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

Fay rolled up the floater window with a flick of a button and smoothed her hair. "To the place where you were brainlocked. It's time to get your memories back."

A tense atmosphere slowly settled in the floater as they flew through the industrial sector. Though Fay smiled at him when they arrived at the pre-arranged floater station, he felt that she was not someone he could rely upon. How long has it been since we were lovers, Fay? he wondered as he stepped out of the floater. Long enough for you to form new allegiances; to betray me?? Digby glanced at Thackeray as they walked towards the station elevator. Did both of you make a deal after I was brainlocked? he wondered.

"Where now?" asked Digby.

"To the basement," replied Thackeray. "I have the memory recovery equipment down there."

Digby nodded and glanced at Thackeray as they stood into the elevator. Why didn't we send you instead? You would have been the perfect choice.

The elevator began to descend smoothly. Fay glanced at Thackeray, appearing relaxed. He determined Fay and Thackeray's position in relation to himself in the elevator. He clenched his hand firmly about the briefcase handle until the whites of his knuckles showed through.

The lift doors opened and Thackeray walked out ahead of Digby. The basement was shrouded by a pall of darkness. Seizing his moment, Digby swung his briefcase in a vicious sideways arc. The case impacted with Fay's midriff and she doubled over in pain. Her face met with Digby's up-swinging foot which smashed into her face. She crumpled to the ground. Digby followed the movement through by slamming the case into Thackeray's back. The android toppled onto the ground, skidding forward.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Thackeray, slowly standing up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter. The memoryform gradually reconstructed itself into a weapon. Digby reached for the concealed gun in the back of his trousers and pulled it out.

"You can't predict everything, Thack," said Digby, noting the look of shock on the android's normally composed face. The memoryform was only partially complete. Digby let off a shot which struck the android in the chest, vaporising his power unit.

Thackeray collapsed and the power gradually drained out of his damaged body. Digby stood over him and watched an electrical fire consume the android.

"What are my chances of survival now?" asked Digby, kicking the android.

"Less than... than you think," replied Thackeray before he died.

Digby picked up the memoryform and watched the partially formed gun turn back into a lighter. He held onto it.

Digby had already turned on the lights in the basement when Fay slowly came to. He had found no memory recovery machine, just a large freshly dug pit, hidden away in the corner of the basement, ready to be covered back in.

My grave, Digby had thought upon seeing it.

He stood over Fay, looking at her with cold, emotionless eyes. She looked back up at him pitifully, coughing up a mouthful of blood. He thought she looked crestfallen.

"You said you'd never hurt me. You told me you loved me," she said.

Digby nodded. "I still love you, I suppose, but I don't feel anything when I say it. Love is just a word now, like all the others - empty. I can act without remorse or guilt, thanks to Thackeray's brainlock. I can be as cold and heartless he was," he replied, casually tossing the lighter into the air and catching it again.

"You're wrong," she replied. "You were always like that." She looked about her as if for help. "You were never anything more than a cold blooded murderer! That's why we picked you for the meet!"

"Bye Fay. Love you," said Digby, growing tired of her talking. He shot her, feeling nothing. "You did me a favour by brainlocking me."

He quickly disposed of the two bodies. He took some satisfaction in the fact that Fay and Thackeray were buried in the spot arranged for him. Satisfied, Digby nodded to himself and stepped back into the lift. He pressed the ground floor button. He realised that he would never be able to recover his memories fully. The elevator neared the ground floor. Though the feeling of nausea had returned, he fought it and smiled, feeling as if he were being reborn. He was in a mood to celebrate.

The elevator doors opened.

A man loomed in front of him, holding a gun in his hand.

"Hi there," he sneered, "I'm Digby."

The briefcase dropped onto the floor of the elevator.

A shot rang out.