The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. – Edmund Burke

Prologue:

"No. No, please. Please don't."

The grime coated man shakily kicked his heels into the ground, shuffling his hands on the harsh cement floor as he scurried into a corner.

"Please, don't do this-"

He gasped as a cold vice gripped his throat and felt himself being picked up off the floor.

"I don't-"

The last thing the man felt was being thrown through the air like a ragdoll.

His head hit a cement wall and his skull imploded on impact.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

Chapter 1:

"You've called Vornan's AC installation and consultancy. All operators are currently busy but will return your call shorty."

Beeeep.

"Hey, it's Hoz. I've lost your personal mobile number, but I was wondering if you'd like to catch up for lunch this week. I've found a place that does the best coffee. Let me know."

End of messages.

Six carefully removed his latex gloves and tossed them into the garbage bin. The latex began to bubble and distort as it was heated, removing any trace of his fingerprints.

The number was one he gave to his informants. He hadn't removed the ChaoSonic GPS tracker in the mobile instead programming a proxy signal that would always show it pinging at an address several kilometers away. At the real Vornan's AC.

Four months ago, Six was assigned a rescue mission to recover multiple hostages who were kidnapped and forced into designing killer soldier bots. The hostages were experts in their field, from AI programming to robotic engineering. Hoz had been one of those hostages and insisted he be able to contact Six in the event he had information to pass on. In his words, he wanted to help the Deck's cause after all they had done for him. Six had given him his informants phone number along with instructions on code words to use. Lunch meant it was urgent. The best coffee meant new information.

Six walked down a corridor to his training room.

"Harry."

"Good morning Agent Six of Hearts. Do you wish to go over last night's training drills?"

Two silvery eyes met Six's as the bot turned its attention on him. Harry was the product of the hostages' enslavement. An incredibly lethal soldier bot made more lethal by its advanced AI programming. Programming that allowed it to not just function but learn.

"No. I want you to send an encrypted message to Hoz. Tell him I'll meet him at Madame Wu's Tea House at 1130HRS."

"It is done."

Well, that was fast, thought Six.

"I will be back in a few hours. Occupy yourself but don't leave the house."

"As you wish."

Six turned on his heel and walked back down the corridor. He swore he could feel silvery eyes boring into his back.

Grabbing his long black coat, Six stepped out the front door and was engulfed by thick grey fog.

Six joined the masses of people making their way through City Square. Constant background noise assaulted him from all directions. He tried to drown it out and focus on a single source at a time. A GM food salesman was spruiking to passer-by's at the far end of the square while a religious speaker preached at the other end. Advertisements projected onto the surfaces of surrounding buildings produced flashes of colour on the stark grey walls. 'Escape the Fake' one projection read displaying images of a manmade island East of the Seawall. Six wondered if anyone was dumb enough to buy into that as he joined a mob of people entering a mall off the Square.

The reddish clay tiles disappeared from under his feet replaced with crumbling black bitumen. He sidestepped suddenly as a kid in a Wanderer sped through the space he previously occupied. If I had a normal person's reflexes, she would have crashed straight into me. Lucky her.

To his right, a small set of stairs lead down to a recessed, basement level entrance. A pale woman in an oriental silk robe was painted in pastel colours on the door. Six suspected that the painting once held bright red, blue and green pigments that had slowly been stained dull due to the heavy polluted fog of the City. He put his palm on the door and pushed it open.

Six stepped through into the busy Tea House. He could barely walk without brushing against another patron. Voices ricocheted off the walls along with the rattling of china. This was the reason Six elected this business as the meeting place with Hoz. The constant background noise greatly decreased the chances of their conversation being overheard or recorded, the constant movement of people meant he could easily evade anyone who tried to follow him and identify anyone who was watching.

A man in his early thirties with black hair and pale, greenish eyes sat in a booth tucked away in the corner of the room. Six made his way over to him.

Hoz had been imprisoned for 18 months when Six first met him. Now four months since his rescue, Hoz appeared less pale and gangly but there was still an air of anxiety about him. He had his hands wrapped around a small teacup which Six imagined was solely to stop his hands shaking.

"Thank-you for coming." Hoz said as Six slid into the booth next to him.

"No problem. What do you have?"

Six saw Hoz glance around the room uneasily.

"It might be nothing, or it might be everything." He took a deep breath. "I've kept in touch with a number of those who I was imprisoned with. They are too scared to come forward themselves, so they confided in me. Do you know about a branch of ChaoSonic called Gear?"

"Yes," Six replied. "They make androids for manual labour tasks. Like the ones Shuji had building her soldier bots."

Six thought he saw Hoz shudder slightly at the mention of Shuji's name.

"Yes, that's them….about a month ago, Gear approached me with an employment opportunity in computer programming. It involved the programming of robotics to respond to certain stimuli."

Six nodded slightly to encourage Hoz.

"It wasn't anything nearly as complex as the AI programming which I was…uh…asked to do for Dr. Shuji. I have had quite enough programming to last a lifetime I think." Hoz chuckled mirthlessly.

"I declined the offer." He met Six's eye. "But some of my former colleagues accepted due to financial stresses.

"The programming that they are being asked to create, well, it's not something I have ever come across before. It's difficult to explain but the programs being created receive data from extremely complex electrical signals."

"How is that different to a normal computer run AI?" Six asked.

"That's it, there's no AI…well there is no AI or computer substitute that I or the others have been able to discern."

Six was beginning to think that meeting Hoz had been a waste of his time. Hoz had provided no key details or any evidence that the Deck could use. He had no doubt that Gear was up to something suspicious, but so was at least half of ChaoSonic's branches.

"Look, I know it's not much, but I don't know what other information your agency has on them. And this is out of character for Gear. They normally only require simple coding programs for their androids. I'll keep you up to date with any other information I receive."

"Thank-you, that would be appreciated." Six got up to leave.

"Wait!" Hoz grabbed the sleeve of Six's coat and Six felt himself tense. "Before you leave, I have something to show you."

Six followed Hoz out into the dingy alleyway behind Madame Wu's. Unbeknownst to Hoz, Six had subtly jammed the door they exited through, lest they be followed.

The alleyway was mostly deserted save for a man hurling garbage into a skip bin, rats clambering over themselves to see what it contained.

Hoz approached a dark silhouette on the road which Six saw was engulfed by a ChaoSonic Carcoon. The Carcoon was essentially a soft-metal based, electrified blanket which was designed to incapacitate would be thieves. Hoz entered a code into his smartwatch and threw the Carcoon to the ground revealing a sleek black motorcycle unlike any model Six had seen before.

"She was the fastest production motorcycle ever built pre-Takeover. She possibly still is the fastest production motorcycle."

Six eyed the bike as Hoz stepped around the vehicle, eyes shining. It was obviously a sports bike, Six could tell from the smooth tapered fairings and the subtlety hidden low centre of gravity. The curved lines of the motorcycle gave it an almost alien appearance.

"She's an antique," Hoz continued, "refined and perfected by the challenges of opposing companies before ChaoSonic had complete control. She's capable of 0-60 in less than 2.5 seconds and has a top speed in excess of 300 kilometres per hour."

Six's gazed travelled to what he recognised as a Kanji symbol painted in silver on the shoulder of the motorcycle. He pointed at it to Hoz.

"What does that mean?"

"It means Hayabusa in Japanese…a long dead language. It translates to falcon, well, specifically peregrine falcon."

Six's eyes snapped up to Hoz. But Hoz was continuing his monologue.

Hoz traced his fingers over the bike. "I want you to have her."

"No," Six said, "I can't."

"Please." Hoz turned to face Six now. "I want to thank you for what you did for me, for what you did for all of us. Please allow me to give you this."

Six had come a long way in the recent months when it came to understanding human emotions. But it still puzzled him the concept of indebtedness that seemed to plague a good portion of people.

"This bike obviously means a lot to you."

"Yes, it does. And what you did for me means even more. Please, I want you to have her."

"Fine," Six sighed, "but at least allow me to give you a lift back."

"Of course," Hoz grinned.

I'll have Harry scan it for bugs when I get home, Six thought as he swung a leg over the motorcycle.