8B2

Chapter 1

I didn't even need to look at my comrades to know what we needed to do. I sat, the stretchy black pants I wore flexing with the metal legs hidden in layers of skin. I took hold of the bar above my head and faced the window, lifting myself easily and kicking through the glass.
For six precarious seconds my feet in black boots dangled over the side of the silver train as it tilted left. I could see the cross walks below and when I looked up my reflection shone from the midday sun on the glass skyscrapers surrounding me.

I could see my rose gold sweatshirt -something General Lydia Regan thought made me look more human. Then I swung my legs back and forth, core silently whirring before flipping backwards onto the roof, letting go of the bar before my arms were dented and landing to face the head of the train.

The sky was blue, fluffy cumulus clouds coasting over the glass and metal skyline. I could see Dr. Iveki's destination rising in the distance, the towering mass of glass that controlled Aforica's capital, Ayria's skyline. If I walked to the right and stuck my arm out it would brush against the glass of another skyscraper's window. My fingers would be worn to nubs by the speed of the train, of course.

I faced the assailant of the train, dark boots planted on the metal roof. She wore a skin tight black suit, no doubt bullet proof, with several guns at her side. Her skin was a warm chocolate brown, her brown hair shaved to extend her forehead and show the little horns implanted there. Her septum was pierced with gold metal and her eyes were an angry gray. Beneath her eyes were the tattoos of blood tears dripping from her eyes.

She lifted her hands, a gun clasped in them, before pulling the trigger at close range. The shot rattled through my ears, my brain listing statistics and facts before I moved at inhuman speed and dodged the bullet.

My brain logged her face into the closed network only available for us robots.

Name: Addison Opkowlski

Relatives: Parents? Deceased. Brothers? 0 Sisters: 1 Grace Opkowlski

Crimes: Pickpocketing.

Residence? Unknown

Age? 20

Of course I knew who this woman was, everybody knew of the Seelie Twins, gun wielding sisters partial to alter egos and myths long pass expiration. They dodged the system for many years, their crimes and associations failing to be recorded. Addison called herself Unseelie, her sister, Grace, was Seelie.

I took a step, my body not faltering against the speed of the train as she pulled the trigger again. It hit my torso, tearing through the sweatshirt and ricocheting down with a bat of my arm into the train below.

I drew my gun, the one in a special pocket between my pants and skin and aimed it at her forehead. She shot me a toothy grin, her smile wider than one for a woman about to gain an extra hole through her brain. My finger ran over the trigger of the preloaded gun and a gunshot sounded.

My head swung forward, gears clicking against their will. Vision sparked for .001 second shooting red, black, blue, and green, fading to gray static then flashing back.

8B2 has been shot in the back of the head.

I felt my body send the message through the airwaves alerting 7C3 and 981. I heard nothing from them, they were intact.

In less than 1.0 second my head was up and I pulled the trigger at Unseelie's head. Her toothy grin never faltered as she slammed my hand, the bullet shooting into the sky, a move quite perfectly calculated.

In three gentle strokes, my gun was down, left arm reloading then lifted, pointing at Seelie's matching toothy grin where she stood behind me.