Light Rays Coming Out of the Computer Ch. 04

//Within the context of this story, we have reached the point of crossover. We, the authors, strongly suggest that you, the reader, should read at least the first two chapters of The Huntress before continuing. Only two chapters of it are posted as of writing this. If you are coming to this story later, two chapters is sufficient and we do not recommend more than five. Also, Chasing the Dragon.//

"You want to leave so fucking bad? Go!!"

Kerr stepped backwards, shock written large on his features. Her gaze dripped with acid and frustration, and she twitched twice before shaking her head and looking back down at the Synth legs in front of her.

"Freeee-yaaa! You have a cus-tom-eeerrrrrrr!"

"Not Now, Fra-" Freya's eyes bugged open, and she slapped her hand over her mouth as she turned slowly to stare at the wall. To stare through the wall. With great reluctance and horror, she raised her arm and tapped the display button on her earpiece. Her eyes unfocused as she sat back and watched, through Frannie's eyes, as a tall blonde woman and her shorter male companion strode purposefully toward the front desk.

"Hello," said the woman, in a thick accent. "We were hoping speak to owner. She is... available now?" There was something behind the woman's patient smile that set Freya's teeth on edge.

"No," Freya whispered. Her body felt frozen in place.

"What's wro-" Kerr recoiled, cut short by her frantic waving.

"I'm sorry," Frannie said, smiling brightly, "but the owner is not currently available. How may I assist you today?"

"We know she's available," the young man said with a smirk.

"Ach, so rude!" The tall blonde shook her head and grimaced very purposefully at her shorter companion. "But, unfortunately, correct. She is here, and we will be speaking with her. Now."

Freya refocused her eyes in front of her, and the display faded to nothing. She looked around, eyes landing on a half dozen objects scattered about the room over the course of a half minute.

"Freya?" Kerr asked hesitantly.

She held up her index finger to him, and looked around for a few more seconds. "That table there," she said, pointing, "is not a table at all. Take the top off. It's a cart. Put this body, and those legs... and everything right here, and-" Her earpiece pinged. "Not a good time, Guy," she said, as she touched the broadcast button.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get out of there!"

"Is that... is that them?"

"It most certainly is," he said, with more anger than she had ever heard of any emotion from him. "Freya, I greatly appreciate your frantic efforts to get that Synth built for me, but you need to go."

Freya chewed on her lip for a moment. "Your associate is still on her way, right?"

***

"I'm sorry, madam, but the owner is not currently available."

"You keep using that phrase," Anya said. "I do not think it means what you think it means." The pretty blue-haired Synth continued to smile brightly at them, and Ashley shook his head as he took a step to the side. He had a feeling things were about to get-

"The owner will be right with you," the Synth said sweetly, as she continued to make alternating and comfortably precise lengths of eye contact.

Anya eased her arm back up onto the countertop and shrugged. "What is phrase?" she said, looking over at him. "Dogs ass on sunny day?"

"Yeah," Ashley snickered. "That's... that's it exactly."

Before Anya could reply, the door behind the customer service Synth opened, and a tall, thin woman with short purple hair stepped out. A few inches shorter than Anya, he thought, but still a head taller than himself. She wiped at her darkened eyes as she stepped up next to the infuriatingly-polite Synth. "I'm sorry. My name is..." She drifted off for a moment, but recovered with an exaggerated blink. "...is Freya Tollen, and I'm the owner of Midgard Custom Synthetics."

"A Division of the Charot Corporation," added the Synth.

"Thank you, Frannie," the owner said, through gritted teeth.

"Pleasure to meeting you. I am Anya Adamovna. My associate, Ashley," Anya said, smiling and gesturing to him. Freya nodded tiredly at him. "Apologies for intruding on busy schedule, but am following up on recent theft, and would like ask you few questions."

Freya squinted one darkened eye and recoiled slightly. "Are you peacekeepers?"

"No no," Anya said, waving her hand dismissively. "Merely concerned citizens." When she put her hand back down it rested on the butt of her Markov, which Ashley was sure Freya noticed despite a lack of outward acknowledgement. "Were hoping you answer few questions for us about customer of yours."

"I'm sorry, madam," the Synth interjected, smiling brightly, "but all customer information is confidential."

"-which is why," Anya continued, "we hoped talk to owner. Few questions, matter solved, we move on." Freya blinked slowly and nodded. "Excellent. We have information that man named... er..." She snapped her fingers and looked over at Ashley.

"Kerr Shaughnessy," he said.

"Yes, thank you. This man, he purchase Synth from you?"

Freya nodded and tapped at her wrist. "Damndest thing too. Here." The space above the countertop alighted as a hologram of the ordered Synth appeared, arms and legs outstretched, next to a listing of requested specifications. Ashley frowned as he leaned forward, his jaw dropping slightly. "I know. I know." Freya yawned and scratched the side of her head. "Freaky, right?"

"That is... uncanny," Anya said, and he didn't think she was faking any of her awe. "Is drooling image. Explains why you meet description of accomplice. This man, did he... know you before he order this?"

"We'd met once, but I don't think he remembers it."

"Did he know he ordered your twin from you?"

"I don't think so," Freya said, shaking her head slightly. "We never spoke directly."

"May I?" Ashley asked, gesturing to the holographic interface, and Freya nodded slowly. He leaned forward and tapped away at a few menus.

"What, um... what was stolen?"

"Collector's item, modest value," Anya answered, as she slid further down the countertop. Freya moved with her, but kept Ashley in the corner of her eye. "More sentimental than anything."

"Here's the recording of him ordering the Synth... aaaaaaaaand..." Freya's eyes widened, and Ashley furrowed his brow as he continued. "... and picking up the Synth two days ago... Huh."

"Do you... um..." she stammered. "Do you have any leads?" Tiny beads of sweat appeared on the edges of her brow.

"Criminals deployed thing called... eh... washer?"

"Wiper," Ashley corrected.

"Tech thing. Is his department," Anya said, pointing at him. "Contaminates organic evidence. Hair follicle, skin cell, Deoxyribonucleic acid. All gone. Makes job much harder."

"I'm... sorry to hear that..."

Anya shrugged. "Cannot control. So this... eh..."

"Shaughnessy," he chimed in.

"Yes. You have had no contact with him since he order this robot?"

"No," Freya said sharply. "And it's a Synth."

Anya put up her hands defensively. "Apologies. English is not strong suit. Ashley?"

"Her system shows the order, the use of parts and reduction in inventory. I've gooot... security footage of her here working..." He winced and shook his head. "... just... brutal hours." Freya smiled weakly and nodded. "Completion of the unit... customer contact, pickup, and... more security footage of her working. Doesn't look like you've left here in days, Ma'am."

"Yeah, I... uh... work a lot."

"You are only employee?"

Freya blinked and opened her mouth to respond, but Ashley beat her to it. "I'm not seeing anyone else on the security footage, and she's the only one on the payroll." Freya swallowed hard and nodded in confirmation.

"Must be stressful. You have outlet for stress?" Freya again blinked in confusion. Anya grinned and nodded toward Ashley. "He is quite good."

"I... um. I'm sure that he is," Freya said cautiously.

"If are having dry spell, I let you borrow him maybe little while."

"Hey!" Ashley shouted.

Anya continued in a whisper he was clearly meant to hear. "He always complain little at first, but very enthusiastic by end."

"Hey!"

Freya raised her hands slowly as the conversation bounced back and forth, finally interjecting "Um, thank you, but no. You seem very nice, Mr. Ashley, but you're... you're not exactly my type."

Anya grinned and leaned further over the counter. "You want someone maybe little taller? Dark hair? Broad shoulder?"

"Uh... yerk-" Freya cut off with a tight squawk as Anya produced, from a compartment on the back of her jacket, a single red-heeled shoe. Anya tilted her head and grinned, taking in Freya's tightly controlled-albeit-present shock. "I... uh..."

Ashley snickered as he continued to pore through the security footage. He knew it most of it was forged, although he was in awe of the level of detail. Whoever did this is very good, he thought. Anya kept her hands poised and on the countertop as Freya leaned forward and looked inside. "Snapdragon? Never heard of that brand."

Ostensibly, Ashley was watching the interface as he tried to find digital evidence to back up what they already knew. There were very few hackers with the skill to forge video footage, as well as a mountain of anecdotal evidence, well enough to fool him. In reality though, he was watching Freya and Anya as the air seemed to thicken around them and seconds slowed, stretched. And then, something began to tickle his senses.

Ashley had been on his fair share of jobs. Less than half, maybe, but more than one in three. Not that he was counting. What was important, though, was that he'd been on enough jobs to have felt a tickle. A slight raising of his hairs when nothing he can see or hear should be causing it. Anya had been impressed the first time he told her about it. Even more importantly, he'd been on enough jobs where he'd felt the tickle, ignored it, and barely lived to regret it.

He took a deep breath and, though careful to keep his eyes directed at the hologram, let his attention span widen. The glass display case to his side gave a weak reflection of the room behind him, and nothing seemed out of place. Anya was relishing the final moment before the kill, which Freya seemed utterly unaware of. The Synth was smiling...

...differently. Not brightly. It was a blank sort of smile, involving only the lips. He risked glancing in it's direction and cursed as it turned and looked at him. As it turned and looked at him with dead eyes and a smile. "Frell," he repeated, as he took one staggered step backwards.

"Someone's in troooouuuuble," the Synth said, it's voice wavering up and down in a spine-chilling sing-song fashion. Ashley's hand slid toward his hip, toward his stun baton, and it leapt into action. It's open palm struck him hard in the solar plexus, crumpling him before his baton could even clear it's holster. Anya was in motion before he hit the ground, her stun baton slicing a line through the hologram and crashing through the Pureglass display case below, but the Synth retracted it's arm before she could hit it too. Freya shrieked as she backed away, her arms awkwardly held out in a defensive posture even Ashley was embarrassed by. Anya cursed and swung horizontally across the countertop but the Synth vaulted over both the swing and the counter on it's way after him.

"Chertov der'mo," Anya shouted, grabbing the Synth by the back of the neatly folded collar of her shirt. It tried to snake it's arm back around Anya's prosthetic one to free itself, and quirked it's lips when it couldn't overpower the larger Russian. "Do not," she cried, striking the Synth square in the nose. "Hit," she cried, her fist landing again. "Mouse!" The third, final, and hardest blow sent the Synth reeling backwards.

"Kinda... fuck," Ashley gritted, as he rolled onto his hands and knees. "...kinda surprised you didn't catch that she used a code word." Several feet away, the blue-haired Synth was struggling to do the same.

"At least machine knows code word," she roared. "Is more than can say for you!" Freya screamed behind them as the door beside her burst open from the other side. Anya snarled, as much for the new Synths darting through the opening as for the purple-haired woman retreating through it.

***

Freya whimpered as she looked around. She could barely remember a time when her workspace was so empty. "No no no," she muttered, looking back over her shoulder briefly.

"No?" Kerr asked, sweeping his arm across a countertop and shoveling a load of parts she'd pointed out into the cart.

"No! I mean... Fuck! Keep going!" She scratched feverishly at her scalp as she stared at the disembodied Synth head lying on the floor. "Can't take everyone."

"You're... you're taking me, right?"

"Yes," she shouted at Kerr. "God!" She leapt across the room, having suddenly rediscovered her legs, and began pulling at a large server rack. The door frame hidden behind the rack slowly came into view.

"Do you want-"

"Yes," she said, frantically. "Switch!" They stepped past each other, and the room filled with the shrill sound of metal framework scraping across a tile floor. Freya agonized over her decisions as she filled up the last little bit of space on the cart, and screamed as her earpiece pinged. "What?!"

"Just hang on, Freya. Help is almost there."

"Good," she said shakily, "but we're not-" She cut off in another scream as one of her unfinished Synths flew through the open doorway and crashed into the wall next to her, and she turned around. Her eyes widened, and lips trembled, as Anya stepped into the back room.

"Not... what?" Anya said, in her thick Russian accent. "Leaving?" She paused and tilted her head. "Wasting more of time?" Her dark blonde hair was matted with sweat, and Freya leaned away as the taller woman pointed at her with a crackling stun baton. "Orders are you come back alive, but am thinking maybe you too much trouble." A single thin trail of blood ran down from her nose to her lip.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Kerr said, holding his hand out as if to stop her, "but this is an employees-only area."

"Ah, Mister..."

"Shaughnessey," Ashley said, limping through the door a moment later. He sulked as he took up position behind Anya.

"Yes. You, sir, very late for work." Kerr's prohibitive stance slackened, and it was clear he was shaken up at being identified so quickly. "We are past posturing, yes?" Freya nodded in response, her eyes still fixed on the blue halo dancing around the end of Anya's stun baton. "You have stupid box?"

"We have box," Freya mocked, her lip curling derisively.

Anya's nostrils flared. "You..." She took one menacing step forward and stopped herself, quivering. "You very stupid. Maybe very smart. Cannot tell. Either way you pushing down painful-" Anya turned quickly, and her eyes widening just before another Synth body came flying, upside down, through the doorway. It crashed into the Russian, and they fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs. A moment later, a wild-eyed, dark-haired young woman stepped through the door and smiled down at the much taller one.

"Roxie?!" Freya shouted incredulously. Roxie smirked as she looked at Freya, her hands pulling back her knee length trench coat to reveal two large pistols. Ashley's tongue caught in his throat, and Roxie's head swiveled.

"Beez?" Roxie said, incredulously. Ashley's head quirked, and he took a step backwards as Roxie stared at him disbelievingly. The mass of hands and feet on the floor began to rumble. Roxie had a pistol drawn and pointed in a flash, and the rumbling slowed.

"If she not pointing pistol at you, myshka, you should..." Without breaking her stare at Ashley, Roxie smoothly drew her other handgun and leveled it at him. Anya grunted. "We talk later about missed opportunities."

"D- Do you know her?" Kerr whimpered.

"I thought I did," Freya said, a little in awe.

Roxie's gaze intensified and fixated on the shaking blonde boy. She lowered her pistol until it pointed at his groin, and pressed it there as she stepped closer to him. A second step brought her face within inches of his, and her smile softened as she looked down at him. "Beez," she said softly. She struck like a snake, head darting forward, muffling Ashley's cries of protest with a hungry kiss. The room was reduced to a stunned silence except for Ashley's stifled cries for help.

Freya stared down at her crotch wide eyed. "I totally would too..."

Kerr nodded. "Very unexpected."

Roxie grunted, and was suddenly knocked from her feet as a hydrospanner connected with the side of her head. One of her guns went off as she spun, but Freya couldn't tell which one. As quickly as one went down, the other was on her feet. Anya loomed over the downed Synth, fuming. "Nobody. Touches. Myshka!" She retrieved the wrench from the floor and raised it high with a snarl.

One of the Roxie's's hands shot up, catching the downward stroke against her palm. Anya grunted, and had to step to the side as Roxie raised one of her guns. She managed to get a shot off despite the Russian grabbing the barrel, but it went wide, ricocheting off an exposed pipe and disappearing into the ceiling. The two of them stared at each other a moment longer as they strained, broken only when Roxie planted her foot between the big blonde's legs in a hard kick. Anya winced in pain as she stumbled backwards, and Roxie rolled to the side to avoid Ashley's first swing. The boy's stun baton made a deafening crack as it connected with the tile floor.

"Come on," Freya urged, grabbing Kerr's sleeve as she dragged the cart toward the rear exit.

"But, what about-"

"We have to go!" Kerr took one last look, watching as Roxie rolled to her feet and positioned herself between the bounty hunters and their fleeing marks. Out of the corner of her eye, Freya saw the four holoframes displayed on the wall, one for each of her Master's degrees.

The rear exit of Freya's shop led into a drab concrete passageway, lit at even intervals in both directions. Pools of water beneath leaking pipes were the most remarkable feature. Freya grunted as the cart careened into the wall. As soon as he was through the door, Kerr sprinted past her and dragged the cart along from the front. Behind them, they could hear intermittent grunts and shouts, but no one stepped into the hall to give chase. Twice they heard gunshots, and both times Freya was sure she peed herself just a little.

Two hundred yards down, Freya led him around a turn, heading even farther away from her store. This side hallway ran on for several hundred feet, and lacked even puddles to break up the constant pattern of concrete, light fixtures, and the rear exits of her neighbors. They burst through the door at the end of the side hallway and into a milling crowd on the main thoroughfare on this floor of the galleria. Freya bit her lip in a panic, looking back and forth, before pointing to her right, and they took off at top speed, cart in tow. Their frantic pell mell was completely at odds with the throng they split in their wake, who were generally enjoying a pleasant Saturday afternoon in the Premier retail district.