8:48 A.M. . . .

On the outskirts of Hellenistic Sector, Topa’s Estate stood in the midst of an apple orchard. Sunlamps lit up the imported trees as a gentle wind swept through the orchard’s green leaves. The lamps were on sixteen hours and off eight hours. Without them, the non-Transgenic trees would starve in the endless night.

“You will pay,” a solitary figure thought, walking up a winding path from the darkness of the day. “I swear, you will pay!”

The path led to the square mile estate. The past year’s nonstop hunts, what the Council called tests, took their toll on Kat (the Pandora Project) mentally and physically. Her pants and shoes, those she had on when she awoke in Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse, were worn. A gray-black athletic jacket covered her dingy white t-shirt and protected her from the cool breezy air. She removed a single strap backpack, unzipped the jacket, took it off, and put on a black Ravlek Vest. Ravlek was an experimental material like Kevlar, but generations ahead. Months ago, Kat acquired the body armor from an assassin, who died from a fall. She set the gray and black backpack and the jacket beside a dead gnarled oak, a remnant from the sun era.

Kat raked her fingers through her lengthening short brown hair. Seven months ago, she decided to let it grow out. Her way of rebelling against the powers who plagued her life, those who called her the Pandora Project. Those who thought they owned her. Those who would try to control her. Her way of saying NO!

Focused and determined, Kat continued up the path toward the objective. The constant struggle between her and the Un-Men seemed to persist for ages. Always the prey, always running . . . hiding . . . But not this time. Her foes, the Council who sent human assassins, and those behind the bio-mechas the Factory, remained in the shadows, remained beyond her reach.

“Today is different,” Kat thought. “I know one of their names, one of their places of safety.” She gripped the Beretta in her right palm, and in her left hand, she carried a white bible smeared by blood. “Topa, you will pay!” Rage fueled her exhausted body, revenge fixated her mind, and anguish ripped at her soul. “You will die this day. I swear it!” She stared at the bible, her hazel eyes saddening, but not watering, never able to cry. “For Preacher, I will kill you.”

Four men, armed with hand guns, stood beside a brick guardhouse just inside an iron gate, the East of four entrances through the fifteen foot high wall of stone surrounding the estate. Three of them wore a Winnow Mask type B or WM-B that covered their mouth and nose. The air filter permitted those not used to the Dark Half of the planet to work outside in the Dry Clouds’ pollution.

One guard pressed a button on the side of his WM-B and shouted through the mask’s intercom, “Halt! State your name and business here!”

Consumed with rage, she didn’t respond, but continued her march to the gate.

The four men aimed their weapons at her as the one shouted, “She’s wearing a vest. Switch to A.P.Rs (Armor Piercing Rounds).”

The four men ejected their 9 mm clips, replacing them with the A.P.Rs. as the one declared, “We will open fire if you don’t state your name and business here!”

“My name?!” Kat questioned. “My name?! I am Sorrow! I am Emptiness!”

“She has a gun!” the one shouted.

The four men shot at her, hitting Kat in the chest. She lurched back with the impacts, cried out in pain, and fell face down to the path. Fireflies danced about her and the surrounding area, paying no heed it was morning. Two of the men stepped out of the gate, scanned the surrounding darkness, and approached the woman. One rolled her over, and Kat moaned. Blood covered her dingy white shirt underneath the vest.

“She’s good as gone.” The first guard reached down, took her black Beretta, locked the safety, tucked the weapon in the front waistband of his pants, and grabbed the bible. “This book could be valuable.” He looked around the area. “See anyone else?”

“No. Take her arms. The orchard could use more fertilizer.” The second guard, with the help from the first, dragged the woman inside the gate, and dropped her on the dirt path.

“What’s that?” the third man asked. Native of Noir, he wore no Winnow Mask.

The first examined the bible. “A book covered in blood.”

“A book you say. Is it legal?” the third asked.

The first opened the cover and peered at a paper tucked in a clear plastic pocket. “Yeah, it’s legal. Here’s its registration.” He read the top. “The bible’s registered to one Norman Odin.”

“A bible?” The third walked over, grabbed the book, and flipped through it. He handed it back to the first and walked over to the woman. “Throw that archaic thing away before you get some disease.” The third snarled his nose up at the woman. “She looks like she’s from Wayfaring Lane.” He spat on her. “Bums, the lot of ‘em.”

“I thought I might get some money for the book off the black market.”

The third folded his arms and shook his head. “Not from that thing you won’t. It’s trash.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder. “Toss it!”

The first nodded and tossed the bible on top of the garbage that sat in a trash can outside the guardhouse.

“Better radio this in.” The third guard, the one without the mask, started to bring a radio up to his mouth.

“I wouldn’t do that just yet.” Kat grabbed a hand full of dirt, stood, and threw it into the face of the third guard.

He cried out, covering his eyes with his hands. “I can’t see!”

“How is she standing?” the fourth man shouted, drawing his gun. “The A.P.Rs. should have killed her.”

“I thought she was dying.” The first aimed his weapon. “She’s covered in blood.”

Kat held her chest in pain from the four bullet impacts that struck her Ravlek Vest. “It’s not my blood.” She leaped up, spin kicked the maskless guard in the temple, and yelled, “Why do you think I’m here?”

The second man fell to the ground out cold as the first and fourth shot at Kat. She rolled with uncanny speed, evading their fire, and raced to the fourth guard as he shot again. The bullet nicked her earlobe. Kat grabbed the man’s wavy hair, slammed the side of his head into the brick guardhouse, and side kicked the other in the stomach. The guard with the wavy hair slid down the brick wall, landing in a heap. Blood covered his forehead. The first guard bent over in pain as Kat calmly approached him, took the gun from his waistband, pulled his mask down, and punched him in the face.

“I can’t see,” the maskless guard screamed again. “What’s going on?”

Kat marched over to the man, placed the barrel of the gun against his jaw, and took his weapon. “Where’s Topa?”

“I won’t tell you.”

With calm resolve, she leaned to him, whispering, “I’m only here to kill him.” She put her hand on his back, pulling herself close to his ear. “Tell me, and I’ll let you live.”

Sweat beaded his forehead, and a salty droplet ran down his face, landing on her barrel. He squinted, looking to the fallen guards, but saw only blurred images. “Live like the others?”

She glanced at one as the guard moaned. “They are alive. Now . . . Where’s Topa?”

“I won’t . . .”

She cocked the gun. “Last chance.”

“He’s . . . He’s in his office. Don’t kill me!”

Kat uncocked the gun, then using the man’s own weapon, struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out. She tossed his gun, searched the other men, took their 9 mm ammo, and what A.P.Rs. they had, put the clips in her right thigh pocket, and tossed their guns and masks into the bushes. Kat walked to the guardhouse. She retrieved the bible from the trash can, brushed debris from its blood dried cover, and held it close to her heart. “Why did they kill you? Was it because of me? Was it another test?” Anguish ripped at her heart, and her lips trembled. “Am I the reason you’re dead, Preacher?”

Those thoughts caused her great sorrow, so much so, it was hard to breathe. Kat went this long grueling year without killing anyone, taking careful steps not to take a life. Finding other ways to defeat the human assassins and bounty hunters the Council sent after her. “Still,” she thought. “If I’m the reason Preacher’s dead . . .”

Kat shook her head, then breathed as deeply as she could, trying to rid herself of the suffocating feelings. “I can’t think about that now.” She started down the dirt path that led to the center of the estate where the main house and Topa’s office stood. “I must make him pay.” Hatred seeped into her soul, saturating it. “Topa must pay!” Kat rushed to her target, evading the rest of the guards. She wouldn’t have much time before the four at the gate were discovered.