=  Someone tried to tell me something
        Don't let the world bring you down
        Nothing will do me in before I do myself
        So save it for your own and the ones you can help
            ("Blow Up The Outside World"; Soundgarden)
 

The Scalpel's Edge was an odd, subdued-looking bar sitting right at the edges of the recreation sector. Modestly sized, it attracted its share of the bar-roving crowd. The people who frequented the Scalpel's Edge -- or at least, most of those who spent their money there -- were well-to-do. They were the hardworking executives who needed a way to unwind after a stressed day at their offices. These were the most visible patrons, with their smart-looking suits and briefcases of the highest quality artificial leather. Miles paid them little attention.

The Hunter walked quickly into the establishment, pausing long enough to brush away some of the rain from her long overcoat, and made her way to a small corner table, currently occupied by two men who looked nothing like the executive sort. They studied her closely as she approached. One of them sighed.

"You're not going to cause us any trouble like you did last time, are you?" he asked wearily.

Miles smiled disarmingly.

"Wait here," he said a moment later, getting to his feet. Leaving her with his friend, he disappeared into the crowd.

She sat and waited in silence. It didn't take very long for another man to join them.

"Good evening, Hunter Miles," he greeted. "What can this humble doctor do for you this time?"

She inclined a head toward the man seated beside her.

Doc Hartford chuckled and, with a gesture, dismissed him. Once the man was out of earshot, he said, "I don't get why you're so suspicious of everyone."

"Everyone here, you mean," Miles said. "I know better than to talk business in front of your friends."

Doc feigned a look of disappointment. "I'm crushed! I assure you, we take pride in keeping secrets here."

"Until someone's willing to pay you enough," she said drily.

He shrugged. "Business is business. Speaking of which, what brings you to my office at this time of night?"

Miles leaned forward. "A week ago, one of our people got gunned down in a warehouse out in the 28th sector."

Doc nodded. "How is Hunter Parker, by the way?"

"Alive," she replied, belatedly remembering that she'd been meaning to visit the woman for several days now. "I expect you've already heard more than a few choice details about the incident."

"Well," Doc said, actually managing to look modest, "that goes without saying. Anything in particular you're thinking of?"

Force of habit had Miles wait a bit before replying, throwing her gaze around to make sure no one was listening in. For a moment, she wondered why she even bothered since she was pretty sure that Doc had the whole place bugged anyway. "Our police scanners caught no trace of the SuperTrooper who got Parker."

"That is surprising, isn't it," he remarked, pokerfaced.

"No useable clues of any kind, either," she went on. Other than a small note of apology.

He waited.

"You've got eyes and ears in the strangest places. I was wondering if any of your friends in the 28th's gangs might have heard something about it." The corners of her mouth twisted upwards in a faint smile. "Of course, we are willing to pay you well enough if the information is good."

"I've got no doubts about that," he said. "You Hunters may be a little too dour and serious for your own collective good sometimes, but at least you tend to keep your promises." He turned away slightly and activated the privacy field.

A shimmering holographic veil immediately enveloped the table, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the bar. The privacy veil depicted an underwater vista of deep blue and turquoise. The pseudo-texture of the water was presented with amazing detail, complete with the occasional refractions of light beams streaming in from the imaginary ocean surface and swirling bubbles. Hidden speakers even carried to their ears a distant, muffled rumble of the underwater currents. Doc hadn't bothered to add in fish and other sea life, which Miles was slightly grateful for. She once found that having schools of marine creatures swim past in front of her nose was too distracting for her tastes. She kept having to quash the urge to swat the things away.

"Nice?" Doc asked, noting her study of the veil.

She nodded. "What happened to your older design -- that blood thing?"

He chuckled. "I only use that when I feel like having a bit of fun with my clients. For tonight, though, I'm going for the soothing and romantic feel," he added, winking.

Miles recalled the first time she dealt under the veil with Doc when he was in one of his playful moods and silently gave thanks that he was being partially serious this time. Being surrounded by pulsing red arterial walls and fast-flowing blood corpuscles was infinitely worse than fish.

"Now, I might have something interesting for you regarding the incident you mentioned," Doc said, drawing her mind back to the business at hand.

"I'm listening."

"One of my associates may have some reliably good firsthand knowledge about Parker's case," he said.

Miles blinked. "A witness?" she hazarded, and Doc nodded. Once again, she felt the stab of uncertainty. As far as she could see, the scan records had shown no indication of any witnesses at the scene. To have SuperTroopers foil the police scanners was disturbing and inconvenient, but somewhat excusable given the type of work they do and the rate of mutations they undergo every time their biodefenses activated. After all, it could be possible that the rogues lifted a few choice things from the military during their escape and put together some kind of personal cloaking device. Miles was even reluctantly willing to concede the possibility that newer generations of SuperTroopers might somehow sport some kind of biodefensive response which kept them safe from being spied upon. She found it highly unlikely that Doc's source was a SuperTrooper, though. "This associate of yours...," she said slowly, "... where was he while Parker and the SuperTrooper were having it out? Inside the building itself?"

Doc paused a moment, then replied, "He was within the building confines, but not very close to the action." The look on his face showed that he had a pretty good idea about the thoughts that were racing around in Miles' head.

"He saw everything?" she asked.

Again, Doc nodded.

Grimly, she went on. "What did he see?"

"Parker tracked a SuperTrooper to the warehouse and shot him. She searched the body after it'd reverted. Unfortunately, she then got shot by someone else while she wasn't paying attention," he said simply, watching her closely.

Miles' eyebrows beetled closer. "That's all?" she asked. "Did he catch a glimpse of the shooter, or anything else?"

The man shook his head. "It was dark," he told her, a small, wry smile twisting his mouth.

She hid a sigh. "What else then, after Parker was down?"

"The shooter searched Parker's body, then the dead SuperTrooper's. Fiddled with something from Parker's body, then left."

Searched and maybe took -- or left -- something, sent for the medics through Parker's scanner, and then exited the scene..., Miles thought. "That doesn't tell me anything new, Doc," she said.

He agreed, but added, "The story doesn't end there, though."

She cocked her head to one side, indicating that he continue, but he held up a hand.

"This one's going to cost you a little extra," he said.

She frowned. "How much extra?"

"A couple of favours," he replied.

"What kind of favours?"

"First, whatever I tell you, you won't bring my associate in for his part in what's to come."

She felt a tiny bit of dread emerge at his tone of voice. She had a bad feeling that she knew where this was headed. This time, she allowed her exasperation to show slightly. "Don't tell me he tampered with the scene...," she sighed. When Doc said nothing, she growled, "God damn it, Doc, what the hell was he thinking? I've got every right to shoot him for doing a stupid thing like that."

"Exactly why I'm asking that you lay off him." He sounded very amused at her reaction. Seeing her increasing ire, he quickly said, "Look, Miles, he's just a young kid who didn't know better. Leave him to me and I can make sure it never happens again."

She inwardly seethed, but it took a bit of time before she finally saw his point. Even if his methods of dealing with the person in question were probably more easygoing and less terminal than hers, Doc would keep his end of the bargain. Besides, despite her anger, she was curious to hear what it was that Doc had to offer. Taking a slow breath, she nodded. "What else?"

Doc seemed to relax slightly. "The second one will be named later. I may need your help in some other matter at a future date, and I want to know if I can collect when I need to."

This was exactly the kind of thing that Miles personally disliked. She may not have been the most experienced of Hunters, but even in her greener days, she knew better than to promise unnamed favours to people like Doc. He and his people had a tendency to deal with activities that skirted the edges of legality, and they often crossed the line altogether. It seemed that Doc was not going to make this night an easy one for her. And I thought that SuperTroopers were big enough trouble...

"Don't worry," he said, reassuringly, "I won't ask you to do anything that'll jeopardize your job. I like you too much to be putting you in that kind of risk."

"I'm flattered," Miles said, but found that his smile did not really put her at ease. Still, faced with the choice, she relented. "All right," she said reluctantly.

Doc put out a hand and Miles took it with only a slight hesitation on her part. "This is a surprise," she remarked, trying to put aside her uneasiness. "I didn't think you'd be the type of person who seals a deal with a handshake."

"I only do it to people I trust," he said with an oily smoothness that had so far never failed to put Miles on guard.

"Now I'm really flattered. So tell me about what it is about Parker's Troopers that merits all this good will."

Doc sat back. "There was an item in the dead SuperTrooper's possession that the shooter left behind. Without mincing words, my associate went over after the shooter had left and took it for himself."

Just as she thought; but it wouldn't do her any good to get angry now. "You have the item now, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah. He decided to give it to me for safekeeping after he suffered an... attack of conscience," the hacker said by way of explanation, but the self-amused look in his eyes suggested that Doc himself had something to do with the sudden repentance of his associate.

"What is it?" she asked.

He pulled out a little case and opened it for her to see. Inside, a small, black datachip gleamed from within the holographic illumination. Miles looked at Doc in askance and he nodded. She took the chip out of the case and turned it over. It was badly damaged; most of its outer shell was either caved in or gone, and she doubted that the contents of the chip itself fared any better.

"That's how he found it," Doc told her as she examined it.

"We're not going to get much from this," Miles said. She frowned suddenly as she caught sight of a small, dark logo on one side of the chip. It was hard to see, and needed to be angled against the light, but it was unmistakable: WolfDen Corp.

"These things are tough," said Doc in reply to her concerned remark, "especially datachips from WolfDen itself. I'm sure your people will be able to recover a few interesting things from that."

Doc was an innately good actor. Nothing in his voice or his body language broadcasted anything, but then, Miles had just enough experience in dealing with him to trust her hunches. She locked eyes with his good-natured gaze. "You've seen what's in it."

"Like you said, you won't be able to get much from the chip," he went on, "but there's a good chance that a few things in there remained intact."

We certainly hope so. Miles looked contemplative. "Why did the 'Trooper leave this there, though...?" she wondered.

Doc's expression remained easy, though he did raise a well-tended eyebrow a tiny notch. "Miles, how sure are you that the shooter was a SuperTrooper?"

The Hunter kept her puzzlement carefully hidden. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious."

She took a deep breath. "We're reasonably sure that a SuperTrooper did it. There aren't many non-Troopers we know of who'd want to shoot Parker."

"Then you're not really buying into the idea of sympathisers within the city helping the SuperTroopers...?"

Miles shrugged. "Oh, we know that there are a few who'd help them on their way, but those people mostly stay in the background. They know they've got too much to lose if they're caught." She watched Doc closely as she talked. He was listening, but something in his manner suggested that he already knew what she was going to say. When she asked him to elaborate on the reasons for his curiousity, though, he waved it aside and abruptly changed the subject. Knowing the limits of her influence on Doc just like she knew her limits on Foxx, she grudgingly let it slide. Still, she filed the matter in the back of her mind and made a mental note to look into it. After all, she wanted to know why Doc was 'curious' enough to lead her into that line of questioning in the first place.

She grunted. Putting the chip back into its case, she asked, "Anything else?"

"About Parker's shooting? Nothing much after that. My associate heard the police sirens coming close and hightailed it out of the warehouse after taking the chip. End of story. I will keep a lookout for anything that might catch your fancy."

Miles pocketed the case. "I'd appreciate that."

"All right." He smiled. "Now that we're done, how about some refreshments?"

She shook her head. "I don't drink while I'm at work."

"You're done for the day, aren't you?" She nodded. "So what's the harm in a little drink? Come on," he insisted. "It's on the house."

She raised an eyebrow and he frowned slightly.

"Now, don't look at me like that, Miles. I have been known to give a few things away for free from time to time," he muttered.

"Nothing you do is for free, Doc," she said, "and I actually prefer to keep it that way."

He sighed wistfully. "You're a cold lady when you have to be." Flashing her a wide grin, he added, "It's just one of those charming mannerisms of yours that drive me crazy."

"Good night, Doc," she said, getting to her feet. Neither Doc nor the veil gave any resistance to her exit.

*****

He found a note on the windscreen of his car, held there by the wet, rain-drenched surface. Glancing at its contents, he looked up and spotted her watching him from her seat at a little sheltered outdoor bar across the street. She waved. He took the note off the car and made his way over.

Niko was smiling as she took in his wet and bedraggled appearance. "Apparently, being a Hunter doesn't necessarily mean having the sense to carry an umbrella when you're out walking in the rain," she remarked.

"How long were you waiting?" he asked, taking the place beside her.

"I was about to leave the hospital when I saw you come in. Just thought it'd be nice to have a little chat with you later," she replied. "Visiting a friend?"

He nodded. The automatic bartender came over and took his order, producing his drink within moments. Niko waved his hand away as he made to pay for it and deposited her own card for the robot to scan. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked when the bartender, having deducted the cost of his drink from her card, trundled off.

She shrugged. "I was thinking that it'd be nice to find out a bit more about the man behind the 'mean Hunter' facade."

He favoured her with a steady look that said volumes and she laughed softly. "Now, don't be suspicious, Hunter. I'm not forcing you to say anything. I'm just curious."

"What should you be so curious about?"

"Opposing views, of course," she replied. "I work for the largest and most prominent manufacturer of genetically modified super soldiers who keep the League of Planets safe from being overrun by the Queen of the Crown. You, on the other hand..."

"... make a career out of taking down said soldiers?" he finished flatly, his eyes narrowed.

"An admittedly impolite way of putting it, but yes."

"That's a pretty heavy-handed way of describing our jobs." Especially mine, he thought.

"That's the common view that we at WolfDen usually subscribe to," she said, "and it's precisely why I wanted to talk to you. I'm sure that you've got your own views about this subject."

Do I ever... "Digging for dirt?" he asked.

She looked slightly insulted by that. "Certainly not. Look, I'm not twisting your arm or anything, Hunter Foxx. If you don't want to talk about that, okay. If you don't even want to say anything at all, it's fine with me."

He put up his hands in a vaguely defensive gesture. "Okay, okay. I didn't mean to get your hackles up."

She nodded, apparently mollified, but went on. "If you want to leave, I'm not going to stop you. I have to warn you, though...," she leaned in closer, "... if you're about to walk out on me like that, I'm going to have to insist that you pay me back for that drink."

He chuckled, unable to help himself. "God forbid," he muttered. He picked up the glass and finally took a mouthful. Almost immediately, he felt a rush of warmth as the strong beverage made its way down. He carefully put the glass back on the table.

Niko watched him. "So, does that mean we are going to have a nice, decent conversation?" she asked with humour in her voice.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly upwards at that. "As nice and decent a conversation as two people from the Hunters and WolfDen are ever going to have with each other, I suppose. Where would you suggest we start from?"

She looked pleased. "Well, how do you feel about SuperTroopers?" she asked.

He gave a noncommittal kind of shrug, hardly surprised at her question.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"On the whole, I guess I have nothing against them," he said.

"I sense a 'but' lurking around that statement somewhere..."

"... until they break the law," he went on. "I don't go out looking for trouble against SuperTroopers who don't make any."

"You don't seem to like them much, in any case," she remarked.

"Not... really," he admitted slowly. "I don't hate them, if that's what you were wondering." He looked at her. "How about you, then?"

"Me?" She laughed. "I like the SuperTroopers."

He made a wry face. "That's a typical WolfDen answer."

"It's not just because I happen to work in WoflDen," she said. "I find them challenging. Interesting people to be around with."

Remembering Miles' account of her talk with Nagata, Foxx found her sincerity a little amazing but for some reason, he couldn't dispute it. She doesn't just like the 'Troopers they make there, he realised, studying her face and recalling the way she spoke. She cares about them.

"You've got a surprised look on your face," she stated.

"There are a lot of people in WolfDen who'd be surprised to hear you speak that way," he retorted. "You're a rarity. Hell, even your company's profiles refer to the 'Troopers as 'products of engineering'."

She smiled sadly. "I won't deny that. But you were asking about me; how I felt. My opinions aren't in the majority, unfortunately, but then I'm not the only one who feels like this, as well."

"You sympathise."

"You could say that. I've been working with two generations of SuperTroopers already. They first come to me when they're three months out of the tubes, and by the time they reach their first year, they're taken to the training facilities. After that, they're sent out to fight." She took a slow, quiet breath. "That's hardly the kind of life anyone would want for themselves. It's hard not to feel for them."

"Why?" he countered. "They're only doing what they're made for."

Niko didn't take any offense at his remark. Instead, she said, "Yes, they are. But as for me, working with the young 'Troopers... Well, it's very eye-opening. I wish things didn't have to be the way they are all the time. Despite what most people tend to think about SuperTroopers, they're so much like us, I guess you could say that it's scary."

Foxx thought about biodefenses and then of the files he had read about the rogues earlier that day. He wondered just how common such unmentioned offensive abilities were among the SuperTroopers. "It's even scarier when you think about how much unlike us they can be," he muttered.

"Do you mean their biodefenses?" she asked, catching him by surprise. He didn't think that she'd have heard his comment. After a little pause, he nodded. She said, "The biodefenses don't function too differently from any normal human immune system... in principle. Some of us even like to call it a superhuman immune system."

"When that immune system is under control and applied correctly, I wouldn't argue your point," Foxx said. "But there are reports about unstable biodefenses. Cases of the activated biodefenses scavenging every molecule within range of the SuperTrooper who activated it. You might have seen what the results of that kind of superhuman response are like from some of WolfDen's files."

"That only happens in extreme cases," she said quietly.

And these can be extreme times. Especially out there, where the fighting is. He looked at her closely but decided not to press the point. "Just how effective are the biodefenses?" he asked, taking a slight detour of subject. "Say... if the SuperTrooper was properly trained, and he had enough skill and experience with handling them."

She gave a little shrug. "I'm not an authority on what the biodefenses can or can't be capable of, but I suppose that the possibilities are endless. I imagine it'll also depend on how creative the 'Trooper is."

"You seen the biodefenses in action before?"

She nodded. "But only in simulated combat a couple of times. We were giving a small demonstration to some TAF officers about the biodefensive capabilities," she explained.

He nodded. "When was this?"

"Slightly more than two years ago," she replied.

"So that was with the new batch of sixth generation 'Troopers," he said.

"That's right." She looked away for a moment. "I wonder how they feel when they change like that."

"I wouldn't know. Why don't you ask them?" he suggested.

She finally picked up her own glass, but held it both her hands instead of taking a drink. "I did ask for a while after that demonstration. I never got an answer."

"Why's that?" Now he was curious.

"I don't know. None of the SuperTroopers wanted to say anything. It was like some deep, playground secret that only certain people were allowed to know." The expression on her face was sad, yet tinged with a bit of amusement. "Or like a secret club that said 'SuperTroopers Only'."

'No Normals Allowed', he thought, looking at her. They change from one form to another... One element to another... He suddenly wondered why he himself had never asked about it before. How would that feel? "How involved are you with the SuperTroopers here?" he asked, after a brief silence.

"How do you mean?"

"Do you see every single 'Trooper before they get sent to the training bases?"

She shook her head. "Hardly. I'm not the only working in the psi division, after all." She grinned. "There're plenty of others like me out there in the world, you know."

"And does psi division here get to see every 'Trooper that's made?"

Again, she shook her head. "WolfDen's got branches all over the system. A good portion of the batches we make here are sent out to those others." She gave him a look. "That's hardly a big secret, you know."

"Just making sure," he said.

She leaned in. "So, I didn't give anything of interest away?" she whispered jokingly.

"You've worked with the first batch of the sixth gen 'Troopers?" he asked.

If she was put out that he didn't reciprocate in a similar bantering tone, she didn't show it. She nodded. "And also with the final two batches of the fifth generation SuperTroopers."

"Generally, how well developed are the 'Troopers when you first see them?"

"You've done the tests on pre-born batches before, right?" He replied an affirmative. "Well you already know just how developed they are before they're even out of the tubes. By the time I get to see them..."

"...at three months old..."

"At three months old," she agreed, "they're physically comparable to an average four or five year old human child. A lot smarter than the average five year-old, though." She smiled again. "Some would say that they're smarter then than the average adult human being, as well. By the time they leave for training," she went on, "they're about equivalent to a twelve year-old human in terms of physical build."

He remembered the weeks of studying he'd had to do about SuperTroopers before qualifying to become a Hunter. What Niko had recounted agreed with the information he'd digested years ago from those huge collections of files.

"Do you see them again once their training's done?"

"Not usually. A couple of them do return to WolfDen main here, but only to oversee the physical and combative development of the newer batches. Most of them get shipped straight out to the front lines."

"Do they change much after the training?" he wondered aloud.

"Of course they do," she replied, but somehow managed to make it sound not so patronising an answer. "If anything, they're even more secretive about themselves."

"Mmm." He sighed silently to himself.

"My turn to ask the questions now," she announced.

"Go right ahead."

"All right." She paused, thinking. "Why are you with the Hunters?"

"It's work," he said simply. He felt slightly amused at her puzzled look. "I didn't join because of some life philosophy or for revenge."

"Hmm. Are you saying that most other Hunters are around for those reasons?"

"Some are," he said softly, thinking of Miles.

"And the rest?"

"For the glamour, the romantic image, and maybe the chance to play the role of a misunderstood hero."

"Were those your reasons?" she asked.

"Before I came into the Hunter units, yes," he admitted, somewhat embarrassed at voicing aloud the memory. "Those kinds of ideas don't last very long in this day and age. Things happened and changed, and before I knew it, I needed to be somewhere. The Hunters were... convenient at the time."

Niko was watching him closely and he downed the remainder of his drink to avoid having to meet her piercing stare. A vague sense of discomfort seemed to take hold of him and once again, just like in WolfDen, he felt the urge to move away from her. As if she noticed his unease, her gaze seemed to soften. "Are they still convenient now?" she asked him.
 
 

I decided that I wanted to die.

That was what Miles had told him a long time ago. He understood what she meant; no mean feat since he had been feeling the same way. Since that rainy night, there was an unspoken agreement between the two. This understanding was just one of the main reasons why he found working with her to be so effortless compared to the others.

After all, just because they were suicidal didn't mean that they were willing to kill themselves. Better to let someone else do it and concern themselves only with being in the right place at the right time to catch the opportunity.
 
 

"Hunter?" she called softly, jerking his mind back to the present. Her eyes, though gentle, were still very unsettling. They caught the flash of lights from the bar's sign and seemed to glow; he had a fleeting impression that those green orbs held an all-seeing element about them.

He blinked, looked down quickly and gave a small cough in an effort to dispel his sudden rush of memory. "S-sorry," he murmured, trying not to stammer. "I was just thinking of something else." He inhaled slowly, feeling slightly remorseful that his glass was already empty. "What were you saying earlier?"

Her voice was coaxing. "Do you like it there?"

Foxx thought about it, using the silence to steady his thoughts. "It's comfortable for me there," he said finally. Then, with a twitch of his lips that might have passed as a smile, he added, "Like I said: I needed to be somewhere and that was the only place that would take me in after..." He broke off abruptly, chagrined at his near slip. "I'm babbling." He sighed, looking at the empty glass as if it could point out what he should say next.

Niko shook her head. "That's all right," she told him. "Would you like another one?" She gestured towards the remains of his drink.

"No." He placed it on the table. "I think that one was a little too strong for me." He wondered at that. He was never much of a drinker, but he usually had a better tolerance for alcohol than this.

"You should take it easy, Hunter," Niko said. "You look like you haven't been sleeping well."

He grunted. Maybe I am just feeling a little tired..., he thought. Just as he was thinking of excusing himself, Niko finished off her own drink and pulled out a different, smaller card from her jacket pocket. She held it out to him.

The look on his face must have been comical, because she broke out laughing a moment later. "Just take it," she told him. He did so.

It was a simple thing, with her name and a string of numbers written on it.

"In case you feel the need to pick my brain about WolfDen later on," she said in reply to his unspoken question. "Or if you just want to have someone buy you a drink."

He stared at her as she stood and lifted her umbrella, the card still held in his hand. He was still staring when she started walking away into the rainy night.

Talk about one strange lady.

Niko paused, then turned around to wave goodnight. The smile on her face made Foxx think that she was enjoying a private joke at his expense.

* * * * *