OVER THE SILVER SKY TO THE WORLD OF NEVER : Part 143 - The Leap Of Faith.

As I carelessly revealed yesterday I own my mind business. Of course there are major tax implications. Owning a mind business is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Not as hard as acting of course, but pretty close. I'm trying to think of an occupation that's equally as hard as owning your mind business, but I can't make one up just yet. That's the trouble when you own your own mind business. There's all those imaginary employees relying on you for a start. The day to day decisions that affect them, fill a lot of my time. This imaginary business has many imaginary obligations. There are all those suppliers, many of which aren't imaginary. Only their invoices are. I don't know if you've ever gone through a pile of imaginary invoices before. It's very stressful, that's all I can say. I should have imagined an accounts department, so it's my own fault. Now my imaginary accountants are demanding the numbers for my imaginary tax returns. You cannot imagine how much imaginary money I've made or how little imaginary tax I've paid on it. I know I can't. I should have kept more imaginary records. It looks like I might have to lay off many of my imaginary staff who have been with me for an imaginary number of years. Most of them have imaginary families to. Their imaginary suffering is giving me sleepless nights. Nobody said this was going to make sense.

(The copyright to this image is the property of Psychreg.)

Every faction in Palamar had a fortress. A place of refuge when things became a bit tense. The constant bickering between the families, the merchants and the artificers often resulted in bloodshed. Nothing major for well over two hundred years. This was about to change. The stresses in their society had been building up for all that time. Recently an arms race had developed. The artificers had never been busier. They had some smaller rivals in the production of weapons and machinery. From whom they often stole new tech. It was the way of Palamar. The little ones couldn't complain, so they accepted their lowly positions in the pyramid of power. As the pressures built some had headed out into the lush fecund countryside. There were risks of course. Out there you had to look after yourself. The artificers would still come looking for you every so often. On the plus side there was far more freedom. And interested members of the other factions would drop by to see what new wonder these entrepreneurs had come up with. Now there were a few hundred small settlements out in the wilds. Each with their own projectors to enable the use and development of technology.

The designs of these citadels varied. Some resembled castles. Others, like that of the Artificers, were designed purely to intimidate. A statement of unadorned power with no attempt at architectural grace or beauty. Utilitarian blocks of stone in the center of large featureless spaces. Outside things had calmed since the arrival of that package. Inside things were far less serene. Questions were being asked. Who was that man? Why did they have no information on him? Where had he come from? Why couldn't their equipment obtain clear images of him? Most importantly of all, what was he? The artificers had their own weapons made from men and women. Pale imitations compared to the apparent power of this individual. Like those on the earth Jake had entered The Never from, they'd experimented with cyborgs. The same problems occurred. They either became psychotic or suicidal. As much a danger to their designers and themselves as to anyone else. More such work was being done now. Nothing like him was even being optimistically projected.

Those troops they'd sent were the best of the best. Half a dozen sailors had made mincemeat of them. A near 60% casualty rate for a simple kidnapping. He, whatever he was, hadn't even taken part in that debacle. He knew things he shouldn't have known. Was it a mistake to allow their allies the Assassin's to send along their man? Analysis showed this not to be the case. Whichever way they ran the algorithms the result would have been the same. In one sense his presence had revealed this new opponent. One they had no data on. Unaware that it is impossible to have data on a nobody, from nowhere, who'd done nothing.

The mission had been accomplished. At great cost. Far from a mortal wound. What would their backers think? Those mysterious people who they'd never met. All these questions and no answers. Only speculation. There it was in front of Strobo, Chancellor of the Artificers. The holographic image of a trained killer pinned to a wall in an alley. Breathing his last. It would take time to grow him a new body. More to upload his personality and memories into it. A back up had been made before the mission. The assassin being one of the favored few. He'd also had the upgrades. The final moments of his life being simultaneously recorded as he lived them. They always did this. It was a teaching tool as much as anything else. So that everything could be learned from each success and failure. The scarecrow died at last. His face a rictus of terror. On a man with no fear.

"He knew my name." Strobo yelled. "Yours to commander. It almost looked as though he were staring right at me."
The staff in the central control room, deep inside the fortress, were used to the bellows. They kept their heads down. Concentrating on the 3 dimensional holographic displays in front of them.
"It's worrying. A full investigation has been initiated. If there is a leak we will find it Chancellor." The commander stated stiffly.
"Threat assessment?" His leader demanded.
"He has some unique abilities. They are concerning. Ultimately irrelevant. Based on numbers alone they don't stand a chance in a battle against us. They bested my people in this instance, yet we still acquired our target. I'd call it a lesson learned. I think we can ignore his ultimatum. What's he going to do? His uncanny strength, speed and aim aren't going to be of much use against 4 meters of plasticrete and 30 cm thick doors."
The elevator opened at the other end of the control center.
"Speaking of the target, here she is. Perhaps she can enlighten us. Bring her to me." He beckoned the three troopers peremptorily.
They guided the trolley they'd brought. One was limping. Another had a badly contused right eye. Closed and swollen.
"Where's the medic?" The commander asked brusquely.
"She killed him sir. Broken neck. We told him not to release any of her bindings."
"Why wasn't she sedated as ordered?"
"She was sir. The medic undid the straps to give her another dose. A struggle ensued. That's when she killed him and our injuries resulted sir. Corporal Targur has a crushed testicle sir. Can he be given permission to stand down and seek treatment?"
"No, not yet. How many doses has she had?"
"Before she killed the medic, three sir. We did our best once we had her restrained again, but we aren't medics. So three and a bit is our best estimate."
"She should be comatose." The commander stated, in disbelief.
"Yes sir. She doesn't seem to know that though. Got a lot of fight in her this one."
The trooper received a sharp look. He stiffened staring straight ahead. Expressionless.
"Even if we tortured her she wouldn't feel a thing now." The officer bemoaned.
Strobo had moved up beside him.
"That's out of the question. She must remain unharmed. We might be able to get something out of her though. Solamine can loosen the tongue. Bring her over here."
The trolley carrying Scarlet was wheeled over to the central console where the Chancellor oversaw everything. The hologram was still on display and paused. Strobo signaled impatiently at the soldiers, to raise her up. They did so. Tilting the bed until it was only a few degrees from vertical her head lolled forward onto her chest. The commander reached out to lift her chin,. Jerked just in time to avoid his fingers being bitten. Scarlet giggled her head rising shakily.

"Hey boys. Why don't you loosen this bondage gear? It's a bit too tight for us to have fun." She winked at the corporal, who winced.
The trolley was turned.
"Look at this. Tell me who that is." Strobo ordered.
The clip played from beginning to end. Halting at the point where Jake had issued his last ultimatum. The Captain of the Harlot started to shake. This caused first concern and then anger as they realized she was laughing at them.
"You don't even know what you've done. That's my baby that is. In a few hours he's going to be coming through here like a military drone through a kindergarten. Say your goodbyes. Tell your mother you love her."
"Don't be ridiculous." The commander retorted scornfully. We have over two thousand men we can call on. Besides he won't even make it past the Scallum harbor gate. My men are already there. As they hurry to save their comrade. The fools don't know what they're walking into." He brought up a close up of the mortally wounded Poppy. "See. Your friend hasn't got long for this world. The others will die to."
"Uh oh. That's bad." Scarlet moaned mournfully.
"Yes isn't it." Strobo grinned.
"You dumb prick. Not for them. For you. If Poppy dies, he'll level this entire fucking city. You won't die quick and clean. He'll peal all of you like apples. Every last man. Leaving you until last."
Strobo fought to keep himself from striking her. She giggled at his ire and the threatening fist so near her face.
"Take her back to her cell." Kantar commanded.
Strobo clasped his arm with an evil grin.
"No. Leave her there. She can watch them die. At least that will be some punishment for her."

The transporter sped through the streets of Palamar. Dust and debris flying from its spinning wheels. Fetu at the controls. He looked back at Morag.

"Keep your eyes on the road Fetu. The slightest delay... I don't think she's going to make it." her voice cracked. "We're going to lose her."
"Not if I have anything to do with it. I'll be getting off here." Jake advised.
"We can't stop. Every second is vital.. What are we going to tell Norbert? He's in bits."
"We won't be stopping." He stood up his body swaying as they turned left and right between the other vehicles. "Major Kayzee are you in position?"
"Roger that. When should we make our move."
"You'll know when major. Thank you. I will never forget this. Fetu when you reach the gate drive straight through. We will have cleared the way."
With that he opened the rear doors of the van and swung up onto its roof. Pengelly, Sade, Alain and Ellie watched him. Craning their necks at the windows.
"How the hell is he doing that?" Ellie gasped. "It's like he can fly. I think we might make it."

Hand over hand, up the wall he had leaped to, Jake climbed smoothly. As soon as he reached the top he sprinted at superhuman speed leaping the fifteen meters across the street below. Landing, still with his legs pumping, he reached the opposite side in under a second. Without the slightest pause or hesitation he jumped. Hitting the ground with enough force to shatter anyone's legs. Anyone's except those of Nemesis that is. The startled guards swung their weapons towards the interloper. Then died by bullet and blade. The last of the bodies hadn't hit the ground before he was at the smaller opening in the much larger main gates. The rattle of automatic gunfire accompanying his steps. Major Kayzee saluted him.

"That was a hell of an entrance." She gasped. "We've taken out the others. The team with the cutters is on its way. We should have these down in short order."
"There isn't time. They'll be here in under thirty seconds. Stand back. Clear a path to the dockside. Do it quick."
She was on her way. Shoving people and shouting to her constables to remove all pedestrians. Jake reached for the thick bars to either side. Straining. Reaching deep into Nemesis again. They grated. Squeaked and squealed as he tore them from the surrounding arch. Three rapid strides and the steel was sent spinning into the water.
"Holy shit." Kayzee gasped. "That's not possible. No human body could take that strain. Even if you had the strength it would destroy you first."
He dusted off his hands.
"It's not me. It's her Major. I'm doing very little apart from holding her in. This is nothing compared to what she can do."
The officer removed her helmet, tucking it under one arm.
"It's Kayzee please. I'll call you Jake if I may." He nodded. She held out her hand. "Please don't crush it. I think I'm going to need the use of it."
The transporter hurtled past, leaning over at a precarious angle as it turned towards the ship. He shook.
"Well Kayzee. We did our best. Now all we can do is hope. And while we're doing that, we'll start planning. because up to now this has all been hit and hope."