Chapter 02: 080

A tall, gaunt looking man wearing a white doctor's coat, sat in Ayumi's office looking at the blood test results on Ayumi's datapad. The tiredness of his features was apparent by the dark circles that seemed to live beneath his eyes on a permanent basis, while the faint shakiness of his hands seemed to indicate an almost unhealthy addiction to coffee. "This is the girl I was telling you about, Hikaru." Ayumi said quietly. He stood behind the man's back with his arms crossed. "The genetic structure. I've never seen anything like this," The man muttered, staring at the holographic model that slowly spun before his eyes. "Twenty-four chromosonal pairs? What on earth could this twenty-fourth pair be for?" Aymui shook his head. "You got me. I wasn't sure if I should have called you or called the University." "It was a rhetorical question, Ayumi." Hikaru stared at the data that scrolled by beneath the rotating three-dimensional image. "This gene pair contains no information." "What do you mean?" "I mean it's empty. Blank. No chemical bonds other than the base pair." Hikaru pondered for a moment, then turned to face Ayumi. "Is she intact?" Ayumi looked confused for a moment. "Intact?" "Both arms, both legs, etc?" "Oh!" Ayumi mentally slapped himself, "She's mostly intact. She doesn't have a uterus anymore, but beyond that, everything else is there." Ayumi thought for a moment. "She still has her ovaries, though. So I guess test-tube fertilization and using a surrogate could always be an option in the future..." he trailed off at the look from Hikaru's face. Hikaru turned to look at the datapad's 3D display again. Then he pulled out his vid-phone. "Did you register her DNA sequence in the national database?" "Not yet, but I'm required to." Hikaru nodded. "Fine then. Just register the normal string and omit the extras," Hikaru said as he dialed, "I want to move her tonight. You know what to do."

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Ringing. It invaded what had been originally a somewhat nice dream. Invaded by spiralling down the dark corridors of his sleep addled mind, piercing his consciousness with an alarming clarity. His naturally intuitive thought processes slowly began to cycle up, and produced the most appropriate mental query to that sharp sound. What the HELL is that ringing?? Kazuma reached out and slapped his alarm. The ringing didn't go away. "Kazi-chan," Iriko whispered to him sleepily, "that's the phone." Kazuma blearily opened his eyes and focused on the time displayed holographically from his alarm clock's base. Two AM. He reached out and grabbed the phone. "Someone better be dead or burning," Kazuma growled as he activated the display, "It's Christmas morning, for chrissakes." He winced as he was blinded from the light, and switched the phone to audio mode only. "Hello?" "Lieutenant Kazuma Ishimaru?" the female voice on the other end sounded hesitant. "This is him. What is it?" "My name is Aoyoma, I'm a nurse at St. Lukes. We have you listed as the emergency contact for Yumiko Takajima." Kazuma immediately sat up, wide awake. "What is it?" Iriko asked from next to him. "Did something happen?" Kazuma demanded. The voice on the phone seemed taken aback by Kazuma's tone. "I, uh, regret to inform you," Aoyoma said slowly, "that Yumiko Takajima passed away approximately twenty minutes ago." Kazuma sat stunned, feeling his heart crash in his chest. He gulped before saying anything. "What did she die of?" Kazuma asked. Iriko sat straight up, wide awake as well. "Preliminaries seem to indicate that it may have been heart failure." Aoyoma paused for a moment, "Lieutenant, according to the file, you applied for guardianship of Yumiko. Since it hadn't been granted yet, do you want Child Welfare to take care of final arrangements?" "No, no." Kazuma rubbed his eyes, "I'll take care of those. Thanks." He hung up. Iriko wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Kazi-chan, what happened?" Kazuma shrugged, continuing to rub his eyes. They were burning. He looked at his fingertips and wondered why they were wet. Then he saw the drips of moisture onto the blanket in front of him. It was awhile before Lieutenant Kazuma Ishimaru, known hard-ass of the Tokyo MPD, got his crying under control.

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Floating. She was floating. Was this still the hospital? Yumiko wanted to open her eyes, but they were still mostly swollen, and she was afraid of what she would see. Her lower abdomen still hurt. The place between her legs still hurt. Her face and eyes felt swollen and painful. Her small body was awash in a dull, throbbing pain. Did the scary men come back? Despite the fear, she felt as if she was floating. Submerged, actually. Am I being reborn? Did I die? There was something in her mouth and nose. Something that was giving her air. The wires in her jaw were gone. Fear began to claw at her heart, making her want to panic. She felt helpless, unable to move. Yumiko could hear faint, muffled voices. Was it THEM? The thought made her want to curl into a ball and hide. Her limbs were stretched. When Yumiko tried to move, she felt sharp pains from her broken arm and leg. The steel stabilizers that had immobilized the bones were gone. Why were they hurting her like this? Why did they hurt mama? She wanted to cry, but she was unable to summon the tears. Then the real pain began. It started as a tingle at her wrists that seemed to travel up her arms. As it made it's way past her elbows, the tingle turned into a burning agony that slowly spread through her shoulders and down through her chest until it encapsulated every part of her body. Yumiko's previous aches vanished in the onslaught of this murderous agony. She tried to scream, but she only succeeded in hyperventilating. Her head felt like it was pounding itself apart. The pain was washing away her sanity. What was happening? Why are they doing this to me?? Yumiko's eyes snapped open and she finally saw where she was. It was some sort of tank. Beyond the glass were dark silhouettes that moved around. The burning agony seemed to sink down into her very bones and she writhed in place, no longer feeling her broken bones grinding together. What was this place?? Where was Mister Kazuma?? Why wasn't he there?? Yumiko plummetted into blissful darkness. Yumiko opened her eyes. She was laying in a white hospital bed, but it wasn't her bed at St. Lukes. The room surrounding her was white. Her body wasn't hurting anymore, but it felt strange. Tight. As if she was wearing another person's skin. Her face felt hot while the rest of her body felt cold. Yumiko raised her hand to her face. Wait, the arm, it wasn't broken anymore! She tried to move her leg, and found it was also cooperating. She felt her face. The bandages were gone. The cuts were gone. She let her arm fall back on the bed. It had felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

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The man known only as Mr. Rourke, turned to Dr. Hikaru Toshinden. The two men stood behind the one-way glass observing the small girl lying there on the bed. To Mr. Rourke, the girl looked weak and puny. Weak and puny was not what he needed. "How long before she reaches the level of 079?" Rourke asked. Toshinden gazed out at his small patient. He had already decided to withold the information about the girl's twenty-fourth pair. "Her body accepted the nanites better than 079's, but I would still estimate at least a few years before you have what you wanted." Rourke was a big man, although broader than tall. His face and bearing bespoke of a American mid-western upbringing. He even spoke Japanese with a subtle twang. He bit off one end of a thick cigar that he produced from his pocket and proceeded to light it up with a silver, zippo lighter with the US Navy SEALs insignia accented in gold on one side. Toshinden regarded Rourke with mild distaste. "I'd appreciate you putting that out, Mr. Rourke." Rourke eyed Toshinden with an insolent grin on his clean-shaven face. "Be glad to put it out, once I finish with it." There was a look in Rourke's green eyes. A look of madness and mirth mixed together, as if he silently hoped Toshinden would make an issue of his cigar. An issue that Rourke could resolve in a manner that suited his personality. Toshinden saw the look and backed off. Rourke always made him feel uncomfortable. Rourke stuck the cigar between his teeth and chuckled. "You got a year, Doc. I will be back to check on your progress. If I'm not satisfied with how far she's advanced, I'm gonna cut your funding. 079 was good, real good. But I don't want another fucking train wreck. You savvy?" "I understand." Rourke took the cigar from his teeth and tapped the ashes to the white-tiled floor. "Also," Rourke said, "I expect some decent ashtrays next year." He turned and strode from the room. A couple of armed soldiers fell in behind Rourke, his organization's insignia on their shoulders. Outside, Rourke climbed into a private personnel carrier. It was specially outfitted to his tastes with black leather upholstery and a built-in humidor where he stored his fine Cuban cigars. As Rourke settled in, the other occupant of the carrier spoke to him. "How is she?" Rourke grinned at the other man. "She's definitely seen better days, but the good doctor thinks that the nanite treatments will help deal with that. He also thought he was slick in not telling me about her genetic profile." The other man was silent for a moment. "You didn't tell me you were going to kill Ren. Or what those...those BASTARDS would do to my little girl." Rourke lit up a fresh cigar and took a puff on it, letting the smoke drift lazily from his mouth. "The permanent damage was unfortunate. I intend on speaking to Mr. Takamoto regarding his choice in contracters. She could have been the mother of a whole new race." Rourke shrugged, "I suppose we could harvest some eggs. It's my understanding that her ovaries are still intact. Besides, there still are the others. As for Ren..." he took another puff from the cigar, "she knew better than to refuse. She was part of the program from the beginning." "But to do such a thing... to Yumiko..." The other man clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth. Rourke shook and admonishing finger at his guest. "Let's get this clear DOCTOR Takajima. She NEVER was your little girl. You've come too far and done too much to suddenly have an attack of conscience. After all, you ARE dead. Now she is too." Yukio Takajima put his face in his hands and quietly cried as Rourke began to laugh.

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Yumiko was jolted awake from her light doze by a tall, skinny man in a white coat. He looked like a doctor of some sort. The man sat down next to the bed with a datapad in his hands. "My name," the man began, "is Dr. Toshinden. Do you know who you are?" "Y-Y-Yumiko," she said in a small, trembling voice, "Yumiko T-t-takajima." Dr. Toshinden made a mark on his datapad. "You are incorrect." he said without looking up, "Whoever you were before all this is no longer relevant. Your designation will be 080." He looked up, his hazel eyes boring into the girl's brown ones. "That is how you will be addressed from now on. Do you understand?" Yumiko stared at him, wide-eyed. "B-b-but where am I? What happened to me??" Toshinden put his datapad down for a moment. "You have no more family. Your mother is dead. Your father is dead. You are, for all legal purposes, dead. You are now the property of the Kuroyama Foundation. Property does not have real names. Therefore your designation is 080. Do you NOW understand?" Every word Toshinden uttered, hammered a small spike into the little girl's empty heart. Mama was dead. Papa was already dead. Mister Kazuma was gone. She was alone. She had no one else. Nothing else. She didn't even have her name anymore. She felt lost, like her soul had been swallowed up whole. She couldn't even bring herself to cry anymore. Her designation was 080. Yumiko Takajima was dead. "I understand." 080 replied.