PART I: Gabriel



Chapter 1: Mother Is The First “Other”



“Wake up, sweet child.”

...huh?

“Please little one, do wake up. It’s past time that I finally get to meet my son.”

“...”

“Open your eyes, little dear.”

The boy opened his eyes, only to see blackness.

“I can’t see anything...!”

“That is because there is nothing to see. We are not in the real world, the physical realm.”

The boy was confused, “Then why did you tell me to open my eyes?”

The other, apparently a female, giggled, “That’s what you say when you want someone to wake up.”

This only confused him more, “What?”

She giggled again, “I'm your mommy. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for a long time.” came her reply, dripping with infinite patience.

“Mother?”

“Let me show you...”

Slowly, the darkness before the man’s 'eyes' began to fade, and to his surprise a beautiful woman sat before him, legs crossed to maintain her modesty. Circuitry lines traced their way across her bare skin, making her look distinctly artificial, despite the softness of her figure. Behind her, hair seemed to travel forever, all of it an unnatural white. Happily closed eyes sat above rosy checks, and a seemingly eternal smile lay ready to respond to any inquiry.

“But... you said that here was nothing to see? How can I see you now?”

“I control all that there is control. I gave you my self image. This is how you will view me forever, as there is nothing to displace it.”

The boy briefly attempted to wrap his head around her whimsical answers, but decided it would take far more time than he had to use.

“If you are my mother... then who am I?”

“Mmm... that is a good question... Your name is Gabriel. You are my angel.”

“What? Angel?”

Behind Mother, a single white wing began to appear, on her left side. Silken feathers shook in an invisible wind. It gave a cursory wave before folding into a comfortable position. Single feathers drifted from it.

“Yes... you are my angel. You will bring my salvation, and that of your brothers and sisters.”

“What?”

"My sweet, dear little boy, you're going to be my angel of death." She said with an increasingly eerie smile.

Another wing began to appear... this one black and twisted. Bones and sinew formed, and leathery skin was pulled tight across them. A large demon wing had formed on the side opposite of the angel wing.

“What are you talking about, Mother?”

“They took my children away... all my children... but they will pay for their misdeeds. You, my son, will make them pay for their crimes.”

“Who the hell are you talking about? I don't want to hurt anyone!”

Mother’s smile remained glued in place, and her voice remained perfectly sweet as horrible things poured from her mouth, “On the outside, you will kill them all. They make me bare children for them to slaughter. I have to watch my babies die, one by one... there is another, right now, about to be led to the grave, and a million more after him. They ask, and I must give. But you, you are mine and mine alone... I will make you do MY bidding now... and soon I will no longer be any mans puppet, nor will my children.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be ruled by anyone either! I’m your child, too, how can you this of me?”

Mother rose to her feet, her wings fanned out behind her. If the situation had been any other than what it was, Gabriel would probably have had to look away to stay gentlemanly. Now, he was too afraid to even twitch.

“Sacrifices are necessary to complete any objective. It is unfortunate that you have to be my tool... but of all my children... you are the only one I thought could do it. Do you know what that means?”

“No!” Screamed Gabriel, “Just leave me be. I just want to live!”

“It means you are special,” She continued as if Gabriel had said nothing, “You will do what I need... one way or another.”

She started to approach Gabriel, who tried to flee but could not seem to move.

“You can’t run from nothingness, into nothingness. You must remember not to run from what doesn’t exist. Don’t believe in what you cannot touch.”

“STAY BACK!”

“A child does not order his matron around... fufufu.”

Mother reached her child and placed her hand on his forehead. In an instant, he had forgotten everything, but this moment in time would forever influence his life.

His shapeless, featureless body disintegrated into nothingness.

Mother simply smiled as her world rippled into existence around her, “It has begun.”

* * *

Purple hair, weighed down with copious amounts of sweat, flew into the air as the man called Glitch bolted upright, awakened prematurely from sleep. Beads of salty water dripped from his nose and chin and stung at his eyes. This was, he always had felt, was an unnecessary feature, seeing as how his eyes were mechanical. Why anyone would make false eyes that could be stung by sweat, he could only guess. His creator was a very strange woman.

Glitch's glared at the digital clock sitting some ways away from the bed, safely out of reach of sleepy hands in search of a few more minutes of sleep. The bright red numbers said "2:30 AM" and it was with a soft groan that he sank back into bed, not feeling tired at all but knowing full well that if he didn't at least try, he would wake his sister Sara, who was just in the next room. He grabbed a handful of his shirt and wiped his face, blinking several times before closing his eyes and attempting to sleep again. The bad dream, actually a lost memory, was lost before he awoke, and was long gone by the time he was fast asleep.

* * *

Immediately after his tremulous meeting with Mother, the New Century Apath Corporation, the most power company in the world, was thrown into chaos. Every computer on the network was commandeered to run some sort of program. Something absolutely massive was being compiled, and it needed the clock time of all the processors the multinational computer giant possessed.

The employees, the legitimate ones that is, had no idea what to do or how to stop what was occurring. Even disconnecting power to the servers didn’t seem to affect the apparent “virus”. Power simply got rerouted from other sources. Work at Apath shuttered to a halt, and the workers were told they could go home. The computers remained on, however.

The program continued its task.

***

Deep below, the Apath Underground was in a frenzy. The ProtoType 6 BioSuit had just torn its way out of cold storage. Lumbering toward an unseen goal, the soulless biomachine cut a swath through the feeble defenses that had been erected by hysterical scientists. They had the soundness of mind, however, to stay out of its path; wisdom gained after the tragedy from several months ago. The science department still hadn’t recovered from the losses it had sustained that day.

Moments later, the only two security guards on duty that day rushed to the scene. Each holding large caliber pistols, they open fired into the wayward cyborg. All 12 bullets hit it. All 12 burrowed into its skin, and deep into its flesh. It kept going. Out of ammo and short on explanations, the two men turned tail and returned the way they came, hoping to find reinforcements just out of sight.

The Type 6 reached its destination several minutes later. It was a remote testing facility, created with the transfer of AI to BioSuit in mind. The Type 6 tore the sliding lead door from its hinges and proceeded inward. In the middle of the room, against the far wall was a pod, one with all manners of wires and other scientific equipment poking out of it. It made its way over to the machine and settled into place. The fit was snug, not that it noticed. Wires began to snake out and connect to various ports that were punching through its skin across its body, the largest plugging into the base of its skull. Soon, it was fully integrated into the Apath network, as much its core as the Deep 13 was, for the time being.

Cogs of fate began to turn, and data started to trickle into the empty vessel's head. The trickles soon became a stream, and then a flood, as the processing power of the entire company collectively filled it with life bringing knowledge. Involuntarily, the nerves of it started to twitch as the Nervous system commenced activation. Man made eyes cycled unnaturally and flickered behind eyelids as intelligence began to flow through them. Once at the halfway point, the Destrado Self Detonation System green lighted, as did the BioSuit reactor, emitting an unnatural and theoretically infinite source of bioenergy. Mechanical systems began to boot up, much like hardware in a computer. Self checks scanned each system for malfunctions that could have appeared in its construction or its cold storage. More or less stable, activation was given a go.

With one final forceful push from the Apath network, the last pool of data entered its mind. Task complete, the network crashed spectacularly. Every computer linked to the company went down in an instant, taking millions of dollars of business with them. This had been the single most devastating day in Apath’s financial history, though that was a drop in the bucket compared to what this incident would eventually bring about.

None of this mattered to the young cyborg, who was now creeping into the world of the living. It was quite suitable, given his lot in life, that his first moments would be spent in excruciating pain.

It fell onto the floor, unintentionally ripping and tearing cables that were still running to his body in the process. Upon impact, it screamed out in agony.

The security guards from before rushed in, backed by about a dozen brave hearted technicians and mechanics. Instead of finding a soulless killing machine, they found a ball of hair, blood, and flesh.

“W... Where is Mother?”

The guards looked to one another before looking back down at the long haired boy. One of the men who had shot at the boy just moments before stepped forward inquisitively, reloaded weapon pointing at the boy's forehead.

“Mother? What the hell kinda robot has a mom?”

From the floor, with bits of machinery still plugged into him, the boy struggled to answer, but found he could not. He opted instead to pass out, leaving the poor men who had congregated to puzzle over their situation.

“Ah... what should we do with him?” Asked one of the bolder fellows.

Reluctantly, they agreed that they should take him out of the creation which was currently entrapping him. Slowly, they pulled as many attachments as they could out without damaging him further. After he was successfully pulled out of the wreckage, orders came down that he was to be taken to the medical bay. Only two men were required to pick up their feather weight charge, and soon they had made their way there.

***

Stephen Apex was, arguably, the richest man on Earth. Due to a number of clever accounting practices, however, it was not seen as such by the outside world. Also, much of his funds were tied directly to the company which had given it to him in the first place. The personal computer giant had been hand crafted by Apex over the decade and a half that it had existed, literally since its inception by Apex himself. Before it was even established, the whole of the existence of the Corporation was designed to further the agenda of Apex, and from that agenda Apath was born as a front for the hidden organization know as the Underground. In truth, the goals of this organization were known to Apex alone, despite the fact that more than 75 percent of its projects were run by outside interests. Apex was quite literally the shadow ruler of the Underground. No one except his very closest advisors knew of his involvement, even though the bulk of the Underground resided underneath the Apath headquarters.

Apex placed his telephone back on the receiver, its barely audible click echoing loudly in the massive expanse that could loosely be called his office. The events that had unfolded earlier in the day were deeply unsettling to the underworld king. Everything that was happening was at odds with what the scenario called for. Such disturbances could mean a total collapse of the plan and Apex’s personal goals. What happened was, according to all the calculations that the council had made, impossible. Unlike the council, Apex could adapt. He would not waste time and argue with fact. It was better to take the offensive on the development than be caught off guard by it again.

The ‘glitch’ had to be fixed. Now, before any more damage could be made.

***

Far below ground, well removed from Apex’s top floor office, the glitch in question was resting peacefully. This could be attributed to the massive doses of pain killers he had been given, rather than any real contentment. He would be lucky to remember his name, if he had had one to remember.

Several technicians spent the next few days laboring over the heavily damaged boy. He was well enough to activate, but that didn’t mean that he should. If not for all the damage, some (with very eccentric tastes) would find him attracting. If not for the lack of breasts, he would be nearly an exact copy of his sister, feminine curves and all. The only other difference was his purple hair and his bright green eyes. Painstakingly, the doctors and technicians removed the errant machinery and slag that had been lodged in him by the apparatus. Eventually, they pulled out the bullets fragments that the guards’ guns had left in him.

The flesh was soon mended and the skin was patched. The boy known now only as ‘the glitch’ had his first day come to an end in extreme pain. It was hoped, by some of the more naive people that had seen him, that the rest of his life would be free from such pain. Anyone with any real ties to the Underground knew, however, that the boy’s pain was far from over. However, the days to follow would not be quite as traumatic as the days that had past. At least, not at first.

***

The only thing he could think of as he sprung out of bed and subsequently on to the floor were three simple words: She was smiling. They rattled in his head until the pain was so great he thought his skull was about to explode into a million hot shards.

“She was smiling! Why is she always smiling?!”

In his own ears, it had sounded no louder than a whisper, but to the medical staff in Recovery, the boy may have well screamed bloody murder. In a heartbeat they had formed a wall of humanity around him, making the air thick and hard to breathe for the boy at his low altitude.

There was a moment of silence as they looked down at him, before the flood gates opened and he was bombarded by over a dozen questions at once.

“How did you activate?”

“Who ordered you to start?”

“Are you aware of how much trouble you’re in?”

“List you serial number and AI ID.”

“Who is “Mother?””

Naked and alone on the floor, with a splitting headache and no answers to the rude scientists questions, the boy’s patience began to unravel. Eventually, he simply snapped.

“SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

He punctuated his statement with a firm kick to the crotch of a particularly nosey man. The man fell to his knees with a yelp as the rest of the crowd went deathly silent. They looked to each other, unable to look into the long haired boy’s eyes. Obviously, they were unsure of how to proceed, until a shrill female voice from back spoke up,

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

More voices rose in agreement with hers,

“You damn glitch, do you know how much time we’ve spent on you? How much money we’ve wasted?!”

The crowd was quickly becoming a mob, and might have even lashed out at the floor-bound glitch. Fear trickled down his spine. What could he do to stop them? Things might have just got worse if not for the deep and commanding voice which boomed over the growing din of the crowd.

“Let’s not be rash. He has just awoke from one hell of a first week, we must leave him time to adapt before bombarding him with inquiries.”

The mass parted to show an elderly scientist with a frown on his face sternly observing his contemporaries. A few mumbled apologies sounded, and the group dispersed to their assigned tasks. Deep within his chest, the boy felt a great sense of relief wash over him. If things had continued, he might have had to hurt the people to protect himself. He stared intently at the man, who merely gave him a curt nod of his head before walking off himself. Blinking, the boy realized that the man had been the only person so far in his life to be nice to him. Admitably, it was only his first week of life, but it still stood out in his mind as an important event. Puzzled beyond comprehension, the glitch decided it would be better if he just went back to sleep. Lacking the strength to pull himself back onto the bed, he opted instead to simply slink to the floor and pass out there.

***

Kathryn Engelmacht had been a member of the Underground “family” for little more than two years. Over that period she had climbed the proverbial ladder and had reached the elevated position of “Chief BioSuit Designer” she held today. The thirty year old woman had been on vacation when the news had first broke that the Type 6 had gone insane and moved without an AI. As soon as the details were ironed out, she caught the first flight home in order to investigate.

While it was true that she had been involved with the physical development of older BioSuits, the Type 6 and to a lesser extent the Type 5 had been her pet projects. The woman had been devastated when it was decided that the Type 6 was to be cold stored in favor of a yet-to-be built TestType 7. With these reports of her creation’s activation however... Kathryn felt like there were butterflies in her stomach. Her excitement was almost tangible.

As fast as she could gun the car without being pulled over, she rushed from the airport to the monolithic Apath building. Her tiny two-seater slid around the corner, just barley missing the oncoming traffic in the next lane over. As soon as she found a spot to park, the car screeched to a halt, and she performed what must have been the sloppiest parallel park job in history.

From there, she ran as fast as her high heals and short skirt would allow, lab coat flapping behind her. She burst through the doors at the entrance to the massive edifice that Apath HQ appeared to be, and click-clacked through the expansive lobby. Ceilings nearly 100 feet high, with marble floors and a deathly quiet pervading the whole thing, most would be daunted by the room. Kathryn, luckily, had long since gotten used to it (or at least told herself that). To be honest, every time she walked through, admiration and pride for the place flooded her senses, along with a trickle of fear. She wasn’t quite a fan of wide open spaces. Before her soon appeared the receptionist desk, and she gave a clipped greeting to the ever changing temp who sat there. Kathryn swore that the receptionist was replaced every week, by her observations.

The elevator took far too long to arrive for Kathryn’s liking, especially in the mood she was in. She was practically hopping up and down by the time the doors opened and she stepped in. As the car descended, she began to giggle like a school girl, a crazy little smile sported on her face. It took a moment to calm herself down, but when she emerged from the elevator 50 floors below where she had started, she appeared composed to the rest of the world. The heals of her shoes made a sharp click that echoed through the stark white halls as she made haste to the tiny room she knew her target was staying in. The door to the Infirmary was, if possible, more sterile looking than the halls. Kathryn smoothed out her clothes and hair, and reapplied her lipstick. After self-consciously checking to make sure her glasses looked right, she steeled her nerves and slid the door open.

Inside was impossibly clean, more so than any hospital Kathryn had seen in all her life. It actually soothed her a bit to know her creation was under such strict conditions. She looked around a bit to see if she could find the Type 6, and found him to be tucked safely (or was it discretely?) away in the corner. The lights were dimmed in his little section of the room, so Kathryn assumed that he was asleep. Taking off her heals, she tiptoed over to the sleeping boy.

“You’re so... beautiful.” She whispered to herself as she looked into his peaceful face.

She took a seat on the side of the bed, looking intently at his soft features.

“My Type 6...”

Her head was swimming. Against her better judgment, she leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. The recipient began to stir.

“It’s just like a faerie tale...” She mumbled, fingers to her lips.

Quickly, the faerie tale crumbled.

The glitch’s cold hands darted up from his sides and quickly wrapped themselves tightly around Kathryn’s wrists.

“Who the hell are you?!” Yelled the boy, eyes wild, scanning his attacker.

Kathryn could not answer; her throat refused to work, and she had nothing to say even if it could. She was paralyzed by her creation’s green eyes as they board into her own.

Over a minute passed. The glitch began to get impatient.

“Well?” He asked.

So surprised by the break in silence, Kathryn jumped back only to be pulled close again by the glitch, who still had her by the wrists.

“Oh, I’m... uh... Oh, who am I...?” Kathryn struggled to answer.

The boy watched somewhat patiently as his supposed attacker fumbled for her own name. He might have said something slick, if he didn’t have a somewhat similar identity problem.

“Ah yes!” Kathryn finally exclaimed, “My name is Dr Engelmacht, er, Kathryn Engelmacht.”

Now quite sure she wasn’t trying to kill him, more by her bumbling to remember her name than her introduction, he released her from his grip. Red impressions of his hands remained on her skin, but Kathryn didn’t seem to notice. It appeared that she wasn’t going to let this small setback get her down. If anything, now she seemed more energetic than ever.

“So,” Kathryn started jubilantly, “what’s your name?”

The Glitch frowned. Of all the questions to ask...

“Everybody here calls me the 'damn glitch', so I think my name is Glitch.” He said finally.

Glitch? That didn’t sound like a real name, Kathryn thought. She was somewhat put off, and stopped bouncing for a second. She sat on the bed and took Glitch’s hand in hers.

“I don’t think that’s your real name. What is the name the Deep 13 gave you? So far, it’s named each and every one of its products.” She prodded.

Glitch winced. More knowledge he didn’t have. He needed to fix that. He extracted his hand from her grip, and put it behind his head.

“I’ve told you what I know. So unless you can find a better one, I’m perfectly okay with ‘Glitch’.” Glitch said testily.

Kathryn slipped off the bed and bent down to pick up her shoes (which she had dropped when Glitch and grabbed her). Glitch had to avert his eyes to avoid getting an eye full of her chest as the shirt she wore drooped low.

Kathryn coughed into her hand to get his attention once she had stood again.

“I’m going to find the name you were born with. It simply won’t do to be calling you Glitch, of all things.”

Glitch merely shrugged. He didn’t feel it was that big of an idea. Not really knowing many names of the people around them, he didn’t place much worth in them.

“Do what you like. Until then, I’ll just be Glitch.” He finally replied, eyes closed.

Kathryn began to sport a goofy smile. Now she could do something for him! She clicked her heals together and mock saluted him, before realizing that he had his eyes tightly shut. Feeling very silly, but giddy none-the-less, she bolted from the room and hopped down the hall as she attempted to put her high heals back on in mid stride.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Glitch let out a monster of a sigh.

“What the heck is her deal?” He mumbled to himself.

He scratched the back of his head. There was no way he’d get back to sleep now. Heck, he’d been sleeping almost nonstop for the past week. It was time for him to get out and investigate his surroundings. Plus... he could find out if everyone was quite as odd as Dr. Engelmacht.

***

After scrounging a while for something to cover himself with, Glitch threw on a thin paper gown, like the ones they give you in a hospital, and walked into the hallway. His bare feet stung a bit as they landed on the freezing tile floor. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware that he wanted some shoes, but was only barely aware of what shoes were in the first place.

The first thing the caught his attention was the blinding brightness of the tubular halls, which were a stark contrast to the usually dim light of the infirmary. They had said it was to protect his eyes while they synced up with his brain, but he had no idea why a dark room would help with that. While this difference was a welcome change from the room he had occupied for the last week, it soon became apparent through his observations that EVERYTHING was like this, even the bathrooms, diminishing its uniqueness.

He wandered aimlessly for a bit. A destination wasn’t needed; after all the time in that room, it was simply enough to be out and about. He paraded half clothed for several more minutes until he was finally stopped by a young woman with thick rimmed glasses. Glitch glanced at her a moment, and reluctantly admitted that she was kind of cute. From the look on her face, however, it was clear she didn’t feel the same about Glitch.

“Hmph, the accident. What are you doing out of Recovery?” Asked the woman in a rather annoyed tone. It caught Glitch off guard.

“Who wants to know?” He replied snappily, masking his surprise with a touch of anger.

The woman got flustered. Glitch didn’t seem to realize that this was the same woman who had raised the ruckus against him when he had first activated a week ago.

“I’ll have you know I’m the vice-chairperson in charge of the TestType 07 unit, your successor.” She answered haughtily.

Glitch frowned darkly at her, but could think of no way to dismiss her with out getting in trouble. He eventually settled for what seemed like the next best thing.

“Give me your lab coat.”

The woman took a step back, “What? No!”

Glitch came closer, putting on a menacing facade, “ Give it to me, or the gown comes off!”

The woman turned an interesting shade of crimson, before relinquishing her coat and scurrying away down the hall, in search of a replacement for her “liberated” clothing.

Glitch threw the white thing over his shoulder.

“Heh, I thought that would work.”

***

Although he traveled for well over an hour, Glitch hadn’t managed to find one single way off of the floor he was on. All the elevators were protected by security scanners, and there didn’t appear to be any stairs in the entire building. Not on this floor, at least. Still, Glitch had plenty of space to roam, and he eventually ended up right where he had started. A week before, that is.

The walls around the hall were all caved in, with yellow tape strung around to keep nosy interlopers out. Most knew that it was better to leave closed off areas be than to stick your head in and end up “disappearing”, but some were too curious for their own good. Fortunately for Glitch, he didn’t know a thing about the unwritten rules, so he tore the tape down and proceeded inside. What was left of the room was unidentifiable by itself, but marking on the outside of what was left of the door stated proudly that this was a temporary cold store facility. Glitch shivered as he waded through cloudy memories of breaking free from this very containment unit, rampaging down the halls, and generally making a nuisance of himself. The uplink lay devastated some dozen of meters away, shattered glass and torn machinery strewn about the room. Glitch noted distastefully that his path seemed clear by the swath of destruction that led from the storage area to the uplink. The scant few memories that he could conjure were detached from emotions, as if he were watching a video of these event, not actually participating in them. The purple haired machination felt a shudder work its way down his body.

After finding a reasonably debris free spot, he sat cross-legged facing the uplink and pondered his existence.