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    #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
    #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
    #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
    Ebook389 pages5 hours

    #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness

    By Kristie Lynn Higgins

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    About this ebook

    The Shades of Gray series follows the adventures of Kat and Kim. Start by reading the first book of this serial series and be introduced to this world of danger and mystery.

    Noir was a mega-city plagued by a sun blocking mass called Dry Clouds that had mysteriously appeared three decades earlier. The Dry Clouds covered half the planet and forced those living under them to live in endless night. On this world, corporations were in charge and breaking your contract with them could mean the termination of your life.

    Kimberly Griffin, a Life Closer (legal assassin) existed in a world of death. She Closed people for a living. It was a lonely demeaning existence, though she wouldn't admit it. There was nothing to drive her in the bleak reality until one day she ran into Kat.

    Kat, also known as the Pandora Project, was hunted by bio-mechas called Un-Men. She was an experiment of the Sphinx Corporation, and they were testing her to see if she could be the ultimate weapon. Kat refused to be a killer and tried to discover the truth behind her existence. Could she be a new form of bio-mechas?

    Kim discovered someone close to her had been murdered. Is Kat the key to finding out who did it? Or will her association with Kat only cause her more grief?

    Pandora of ancient times opened a box and let all good escape. Would Pandora be the hope the planet needed? Or would she destroy the world?

    **Shades of Gray Series **

    1. Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
    2. From Moscow, With Love
    3. Cerberus Versus Pandora
    4. Sisters

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKristie Lynn Higgins
    Release dateDec 27, 2011
    ISBN9781465705150
    #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness
    Author

    Kristie Lynn Higgins

    You can also check out my author page on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/author/kristielynnhiggins

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      #1 Shades of Gray- Noir, City Shrouded By Darkness - Kristie Lynn Higgins

      Prologue

      On a parallel Earth, thick puffy barriercumulus also known as Dry Clouds covered the sky; they prevented the glimmer of twilight from shining on the city of Noir. For three decades the polluted high-troposphere looming clouds covered half the planet and left part of the world to live in endless night. The mile-thick clouds yielded petroleum based contaminated water dubbed Tainted Rain and polluted the air; therefore, they were named Dry Clouds for leaving half the planet without drinkable water. At first, scientists believed pollution caused the great cloud barrier, but that theory proved to be false. What caused the Dry Clouds to form baffled scientists and how to reverse them eluded reason, and only technology’s constant battle with nature has kept the dark city alive.

      Man’s need for conquest expanded Noir to cover more than half a continent of what would have been called North America, and Noir became a Mega-city; it was the only one in the world. Over the last twenty years Transgenics and bio-mechas evolved at a breakneck pace. Transgenics were genetically modified organisms with an extra-genome and were mostly plants produced to survive without the sun. Bio-mechas were robots resembling living things.

      On this world, corporations not governments ruled the people, creating a society where profit set policy and dictated life. Those who resided in Noir were touched by darkness, and the light of goodness seemed a forgotten memory; they... they lived in the gray —Shades of Gray.

      Chapter One

      The Pandora Project

      Isaiah 5:30b

      If one looks to the land, behold, darkness and sorrow, even the light will be darkened by the clouds.

      The year 31 A.D.C. (After Dry Clouds)

      October 22...

      Thursday...

      4:44 A.M...

      Initiate the Pandora Project, a deep male voice ordered.

      Pandora has been awakened, a female replied.

      Good... Good..., the deep voice said.

      Are you sure the project is ready? a second male voice inquired. Maybe we should give it a few more weeks of conditioning.

      No, launch Pandora, the deep voice instructed. Let us see what it can do on its own.

      Releasing the project now, the female said, paused, and then added, Pandora is running as predicted.

      Good... Good... Let us begin the tests.

      6:04 P.M...

      Scattered streetlights partially lit an abandoned industrial district, and the wind howled, blowing through overgrown weeds and chilled the air of the blue gray night. Over the years, a few trees and plants adapted to the limited artificial light along with a large variety of weeds. Nocturnal creatures; rats, mice, owls, and cats ruled the alleys and parks of the mega-city of Noir.

      A black sedan slowly rolled down the street, and its headlights lit up the dark road; the vehicle stopped at the curb a few hundred yards away from Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse. The four doors of the vehicle opened, and five men in brown suits exited the car. Each of them wore polarized spectacles with black mirror-like lenses, and the spectacles hid more than their eyes. Four of them removed a silver Beretta from their shoulder holster; the fifth wore a Coffin Handled Bowie tucked in a belt, and the man tapped the hilt eager to draw the knife. Eerily in one accord, they turned their heads and stared at the rusted toy building as they awaited orders. A parking lot stood between them and their target.

      In another part of the city...

      In a secret location known as the Sanctum...

      Fifty, large, flat screen monitors covered three walls and lit up a dark inner room called the Chamber, and data filled their screens in scrolling masses. Two dozen analysts scrutinized the influx of information coming across the monitors as they typed at their workstations. The men and women toiled, compiling a range of intelligence from several projects and experiments.

      All right people, let’s stay focused, a male supervisor shouted.

      He and a female supervisor walked up and down the line of workstations. They received updated reports from the analysts and kept their employers current on the projects and experiments.

      He added, This is the day we’ve been waiting for!

      The analysts wore indigo jumpsuits with white stripes on the sides, and the supervisors wore crimson jumpsuits with white stripes. Both the analysts and supervisors wore a wireless earpiece to communicate with operatives in the field. The hum of equipment and the chatter of the workers filled the area.

      In the center of the Chamber, two men and a woman sat at a long table; each of them wore a black business suit and had a laptop in front of them as shadows concealed their eyes, leaving only their mouths visible in the computer-blue illumination. The three known as the Council scanned reports as they were delivered to them by the supervisors on Hand Held Computers; the standard size for a H.H.C. was two and a half inches by four and a half inches.

      Has the project been located? Mr. Morta asked in a deep voice as he twirled a gold ring on his dark brown finger; he sat at the end of the table with the woman to his right and the other man to his left.

      Yes, one of our best operatives, Argus is watching Pandora, the smaller man, Mr. Decuma answered as he smoothed his hand down a bright orange tie.

      Good... Good... Mr. Morta said. What does the operative have to report?

      Some distance from Etna Toys...

      A man with shoulder length blond hair wearing a black trench coat peered through specialized binoculars. Argus had positioned himself in an alley a block from the abandoned toy warehouse to watch Pandora; he noted the sedan across the street, the five men, and reported them over a cell phone.

      Within the Chamber...

      The male supervisor handed a H.H.C. to the third member of the Council.

      Ms. Nona frowned as she looked over it, thinning her cherry-red lips which contrasted her powdery white skin. Her frame was the smallest of the members. We have received a second report from our operative. She scanned the report a second time, disconcerted over the news. Argus has spotted five bio-mechas; they are not Proto-Androids but a new model called Un-Men.

      Un-Men? Mr. Morta rubbed his chin, not as surprised as his female counterpart. Only one department within the corporation is developing this line of bio-mechas. Disappointed over the untimely intrusion, he exhaled loudly and then stated, The Factory has started their Un-Men tests; I had hoped they would wait.

      You knew it might happen? Mr. Decuma questioned as he rubbed his finger over a silver tie pin of the word Fate.

      Mr. Morta nodded as he replied, Yes, it was only a matter of time, but it means...

      It means– Ms. Nona interrupted. –that the Factory has decided to go against the wishes of the Council.

      How dare they! Mr. Decuma slammed his palms on the table as he stood. We must do something!

      But what? Ms. Nona questioned.

      More importantly, Mr. Morta started. What are their plans for Pandora?

      Back at Etna Toys...

      The wind kicked up sand and debris as the five men, the Un-Men stood by the sedan. Their Internal Link or I-Link, not only connected them to the Factory but to each other and with the I-Link, they could think and move as one. They shut the sedan’s doors and simultaneously walked toward the warehouse across the parking lot; the one with the Bowie paused and turned, spotting a heat signature. The heat signature was of a human hiding in the darkness of an alley that was across the street from it, and the Un-Man could tell the human was watching them. The Un-Man's I-Link blazed orange through the right lens of its polarized spectacles as it processed the data.

      Argus moved his hand to the M4 assault rifle strapped over his shoulder; he tensed, not knowing what it would do. Argus had encountered a Proto-android before and it had nearly killed him, but he had no idea what this new model was capable of. He decided to stay on the safe side and make it clear he wouldn't interfere with their mission and moved his hand away from the assault rifle and waited for its reaction. The Un-Man smirked at him, continued toward Etna, and joined its brethren. Argus was relieved it worked and grabbed a hold of the M4 as he moved across the street to continue the surveillance of the project.

      Within the Chamber...

      The matter is confirmed. The Factory– Ms. Nona emphasized the next word, "–has gone against our wishes. She looked to the larger man. What is our next move?"

      Analyze and record, Mr. Morta answered. Our agenda has not changed. The Un-Men will test Pandora for us.

      Within the dark Etna Toys Plant and Warehouse and among boxes of discarded toys and debris, a cot had been set up; a lamp on a round end table stood beside it and lit up the area in a dim glow. A woman in her early thirties slept on the cot; she had a shaven head, and a gash on her forehead bled. The trickle of blood flowed past her brow, ran down the side of her face, and dripped to a pillow. The crimson liquid spotted the white cotton case. No other bedding covered the old and worn mattress.

      The woman wore a white V neck T-shirt, gray-black pants, and black hiking shoes. Her eyes rapidly moved underneath her closed eyelids as she dreamed, and her lips moved as she talked within the dream, but there was no sound. The woman’s inaudible narration continued until she spoke out loud, A love that will not die. Her breathing increased, and her arms and legs jerked in mock movement as she envisioned herself running. Sweat speckled her forehead and her face grimaced in determination as her mind replayed a memory; it was one that would mark her future with sorrow. Three shots rang out in the dream, then the horrible recollection caused her to scream, and she sat up and franticly searched the building as a panicked feeling urged her to flee. Her heart thundered in her chest as she noticed she was alone and not in any immediate danger, so she calmed down a bit and remembered part of the dream. She was running, but there was something she couldn't remember. Whatever it was, she thought it was important enough to recall and strained her mind to grasp at the fleeting images, but it was too late; they were gone.

      Her head hurt, she was very thirsty, and she felt a little queasy as she examined the old empty building more closely. She noticed parts of teddy bears scattered about a stack of boxes and a layer of dust clung to everything like the building and machinery hadn't been used in years. The woman remembered more of the dream, not the images but the urgency she felt within it and a sense that there was something she was supposed to do; something she believed her life depended on. The remnants of the dream faded, and she mentally tried to grasp for a clue, but it was like trying to capture a dark phantom. The sensations of fear and anxiety remained with her along with the sound of the three shots, but nothing else of the dream remained and that bothered her. Was she pursuing someone or was someone chasing her? Was she the predator or the prey?

      She sat there a little longer, hoping something would resurface and tell her...

      She put a hand to her mouth as she realized something that unsettled her, and the revelation frightened her more than not knowing what had happened in the dream. She realized she didn't know who she was; she couldn't remember anything past the moment she awoke in the warehouse on the cot. Smothering terror oozed over her like the Blob from the classic horror movie, and its gelatinous glob ate away at her presents of mind, adding her frightened essence to itself. It would do her no good to panic, and she mentally sprayed frigid air on the growing Blob, taking back her sanity from its frozen and cracked form.

      Her head continued to hurt so she touched her temple, felt a warm wet substance, and examined her bloody fingers. She wondered if she had hit her head or if someone had hurt her, and the thought that someone might have hurt her made her a little on edge. She moved to the side of the cot, thinking of going to a hospital when she noticed a second table; it was square and small and had a few items on it. She picked up a business card with an image of a flaming bird, flipped it over, and found a barcode on its back. She set it down, picked up a note, and read it aloud.

      Katharine... She studied the name. Is that me? She thought about it, and it didn't sound familiar; she continued reading, Katharine, you must not fail; this is your last chance to redeem yourself. I know you can complete your mission, my dearest Kat. I am counting on you. The note was signed by R.G.

      Kat's view...

      I fold the paper then along with the card, I stuff them in my back pocket and decide I need to find help for the wound on my head in case it's serious. I spot a door and start to stand and head for it when a flash of a violent memory makes me turn my attention back to a metal case on the table. Why did I ignore this item? I stretch my hand for it. Why does my heart pound in dread when I reach for it? I pause before grabbing it as a sinking feeling sweeps over me, and I pull my hand back and decide it's best to ignore the enigma. I look to the last object on the table and pick it up; it's a small silver box shaped like a treasure chest and has a small raised star the size of a dime on its lid. I examine the box then carefully open it, and a tune sweetly rings in my ears; it reminds me of the opening of a classical piece but whose? Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart come to mind, but the piece doesn't seem to belong to either of them, then I realize I'm wrong; it has elements from each like it's a mixture of several openings playing on top of each other. I close my eyes, letting the music sink in as a calming solace sweeps over me, and the urgency to leave the building slips away as I focus on the tune. While I'm in this state of relaxation and before I'm completely engulfed by it, I wonder about a few things. How do I know the composers' names and that the piece is Ginn L. Irynkissgthie's Unfinished Melody? Why do I know some things but my own name's lost to me?

      Unfinished Melody is short; it plays about thirty seconds, and then it starts over and plays over and over in a hypnotic flow. I gaze at the music box, hearing nothing but the haunting arrangement of compound sounds. My fear and anxiety vanish, and my body relaxes to an absolute state of nirvana as the tune lulls me into a trance. I slowly closed my eyes and enter a peaceful place within my mind; it's a subconscious oasis to the confusion and dread I experienced before the melody. The tune has a calming effect on me and as I sit there in an ecstatic state, sounds outside of the building become louder and clearer. The wind howls, rustling the leaves of trees and overgrown bushes. A moth repeatedly taps the glass of a street light drawn to the artificial flame as four car doors slam. A cricket chirps, and an owl swoops, landing on a squeaking mouse.

      lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

      I open my eyes as my heart thumps so loud I can hear it and I experience an overwhelming sense of hysteria; I put a hand to my chest, not in pain but in horror as I realize something's wrong. I close the music box, place it in my left thigh pocket, and search the building; it's still empty. I know I'm in danger, but from what? I glance at the case I ignored, and a deep dread lifts in me like a leviathan rising from the ocean's abyss. I freeze as I stare at the metal container; it's like I know what's inside, but my mind refuses to grasp the knowledge, instead I want to run away from it like it's a maniac chasing me. I disregard my apprehension about the case and turn my attention back to my pounding heart and the urgency screaming at me to leave. The longer I wait to act, the more anxious and terrified I become. I feel like a deer standing in an open meadow, sensing a predator prowling towards me through the tall grass, and I fear I'll be attacked at any moment and from any direction. I get off the cot and start to run when the lamp beside me shatters, and the surrounding area plunges into darkness as pieces of the lamp ping to the concrete floor. I shriek, realizing someone shot at me, and I dive as more bullets whizz overhead. I turn the table over for cover; the case falls, knocking itself open and a metal object slides from it.

      Far from the cot, light from the street dimly shows through Etna’s dusty windows. The light provides limited illumination within the building and within its radius, I see a black gun. I gasp, staring at the instrument of death that's an arm's length away. The weapon's familiar to me, and yet it seems like some horrendous alien creature that has traveled from a distant planet to wreak havoc on my world. The monster will devour me if it gets a chance, so I scoot a few feet away from the gun. I would escape its psychological jaws trying to sink their terror inducing teeth into me, but there are other things in the building I have to worry about, and I slowly peek over the table and spot two armed men.

      Kat didn’t know they were bio-mechas; as far as she knew, they were ordinary men trying to kill her. They prepared to fire again, and her heart thumped harder as if it would tear through her chest.

      lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

      Unknown to her, the muscle coursed artificial adrenaline through her blood, and the synthetic hormone reacted with her body by increasing her heart rate, dilating her pupils, and elevating her blood sugar. Horrified by what was going on within her body and the men shooting at her, she put her hand to her chest again, realizing her heart wasn't acting naturally. She wondered if she was having a heart attack.

      The two Un-Men moved toward her position after calculating the best way to kill her. They aimed their weapons at her position with only one goal in mind.

      One of them stated in a monotone voice, Target acquired, moving forward with termination.

      Chapter Two

      The Rogue

      6:43 P.M...

      The Sanctum...

      Within the dark Chamber...

      Desk lamps lit up the faces of the analysts and the supervisors as they observed Pandora's data with interest. The project was very important to the Council, so it was very important to them.

      Lower the center screen, Mr. Morta commanded from the middle of the room.

      A screen four by eight foot lowered long ways from the ceiling, and it positioned above the Council and in the center of their table. The screen could be viewed from both sides, and it displayed an outline of a female body. Each of the major organs were visible on the screen and had bio-data streaming beside them, and the heart had such a large amount of information streaming beside it that the data overlapped the other organs. An alarm sounded within the Chamber and stopped, and in bold red letters at the top of the bio-screen blinked First Evolvement Achieved. Prattle between the analysts started as charged enthusiasm filled the Chamber, and the supervisors quickly quieted the frivolous talk, knowing their employers would be irritated with them.

      Good... Good... Mr. Morta said. Pandora has achieved Ginn's Alpha Phase.

      You mean Arcamedes' First Evolvement, Mr. Decuma corrected.

      Mr. Morta questioned, Does it matter by which name we call it? It is the same thing; it is still the beginning of Pandora’s metamorphosis.

      True, but will Pandora take the path Ginn laid out or will Pandora take Arcamedes'? Ms. Nona asked. What Pandora decides to do will determine which name the stages go by.

      Until the path is clear– Mr. Morta started, –both men's descriptions can be used. He studied the center screen's data on his laptop. Pandora's first stage is the ability to sense the presence of bio-mechas as predicted by both men, and Pandora’s body is preparing itself to combat the Un-Men. Look at the subject’s bio-electricity. The levels are high enough to trigger the Beta Phase."

      Yes, Ms. Nona said. The genetically altered epinephrine hormone we created for Pandora dubbed Ultra-Epi acts as a supercharged neurotransmitter. If Pandora can reach the next stage, it should have no difficulty dispatching the Un-Men.

      "If is the keyword. Mr. Decuma tapped across a H.H.C. touch screen and pulled up reports from their operative. Argus details Pandora has not responded to the Un-Men’s presence. Mr. Decuma turned to his laptop. Can Pandora achieve the Second Evolvement? He typed on the keyboard, pulling up more reports. Pandora seems to be withstanding the conditioning. He stated with concern, If it does not react soon, the subject will die and the Pandora Project will end."

      Patience, Mr. Morta said. We did not blindly pick the subject. Wait.

      Back at Etna Toys...

      Kat's view...

      My heart revs like the pistons in a race car as I hide behind the overturned table. Why are the men trying to kill me? Did I do something to them? I glance at the gun lying on the floor beside its open case not too far from me. Or am I a wanted person?

      The Un-Men fire again, one of the bullets grazes my left shoulder, and the pain triggers a latent instinct within me. I scurry over to the gun, grab a magazine sitting in its case, and insert it into the Beretta with mechanical precision as if I had been programed to do so without conscious thought. I pull the sliding block, it makes a metal clicking sound, and then I wildly fire six shots over the cot and miss. I freeze at hearing the men’s guns cocking and then something inside me clicks like a switch.

      The e-field (electrical field) of her body changed, and the impulses that normally traveled down the optic nerve surged and caused a split feed. Part of this electricity rushed across her irises, giving her eyes a blue-electrical glow and as if she had been born with a gun in her hand, Kat fired four times and hit one man in the forehead and throat and the other one in the heart and lung. It was like a trained soldier had taken over her body, and she didn't realize what she was doing until it was over. The one she shot in the head collapsed to his knees and fell back as the other one fired at her.

      Kat's view...

      I move back to the overturned table, wondering if the one man's wearing a bulletproof vest. I take a deep breath, rise, and return fire; the bullet hits the second man in the head, and he also falls to the floor. Silence follows, and it's a maddening silence that clears my head, lets me think, and lets me realize. My fear turns to uncertainty and uncertainty to self loathing. I slump to the floor, lean against the table, and bow my head. Disbelieving I'm the one who committed the violent actions against the men, I stare at the gun on my lap, trying to distance myself from the incident and fail. Why am I good at killing? Why did I feel nothing for the men I murdered? I put a hand to my mouth as a bit of bile comes up. I swallow, forcing the bile back down my throat, and it burns all the way, searing my guilt into my soul. Is this the kind of person I am? Am I an emotionless killer?

      Within the Chamber...

      Mr. Morta cheered, There!

      Analysts and supervisors high-fived each other.

      Mr. Morta looked to the center screen as Second Evolvement Achieved brightly flashed from it. The Beta Phase of Pandora's metamorphosis has successfully been reached. He reviewed a report from Argus. Our operative has seen Pandora’s extraordinary shooting ability, and he believes Pandora when it is in the Beta Phase cannot miss. It has far exceeded our expectations for the Beta Phase. We believed Pandora would have an aptness for terminating bio-mechas, but this...

      Yes, Ms. Nona agreed. It will be a useful skill.

      Mr. Decuma interjected, If it is true.

      The data supports it, and Argus witnessed it, Mr. Morta stated and then inquired, What more do you need to believe?

      Mr. Decuma replied, More data perhaps or...

      Excited, Ms. Nona interrupted with a question, Do you think Pandora can reach the Gamma Phase today?

      I believe we are jumping ahead, Mr. Morta replied. There are still three Un-Men remaining.

      Yes and does Pandora have skill or is it merely luck? Mr. Decuma asked. More than half of the Un-Men remain. Can it defeat them as easily as the first two?

      At Etna Toys...

      Leaves and other debris blew in through the open front door. Still feeling queasy, Kat stood and made her way on shaky legs to the men she gunned down. Her eyes crackled with cobalt current in the darkness of the warehouse and when she reached the men’s side, she found a black oil like liquid oozing from the hole in their heads. They weren't human, they were... She removed the polarized spectacles of one, revealing not fleshy eyes but glassy robotic ones. The colored orbs shuddered as power surged through its body, the spheres bugged out, and the Un-Man's hands gnarled with the mechanical pangs of death. Kat stared at its eyes. The red rings with black centers showed no spark of life; they were merely windows to the soulless.

      Kat's view...

      Relief pours over me as I realize they aren't human; I didn’t kill anyone, and I'm not a murderer, but... Did I know it before I shot them? Or am I still a cold-blooded killer? My queasiness eases up a bit, but my confusion remains as I realize they're bio-mechas, model Un-Men. Why do I know this fact when I can't remember the simplest thing like my name? I search them, find a spare magazine on each of them, and place the ammo in my right thigh pocket.

      lub-DUB... lub-DUB...

      I sense more bio-mechas and this time I know their location. Three of them walk the grounds outside less than fifteen feet away from me. I franticly search the plant for an escape as the Un-Men split up, and one of them walks through a side entrance. The Un-Man fires at me as I run and take cover behind a row of machinery. Sparks fly as bullets ricochet off of metal, and I cover my head. During the attack, I lose my concentration and the position of the other two, so I blindly dash for the front door as more bullets whizz by. I return fire and hit my mark then continue for the door. I glance back at the third Un-Man as it lies face down. The last two Un-Men suddenly appear in the doorway in front of me, and I run into one and fall backwards; with uncanny speed, I fire twice before landing on my side. I strike the floor hard and knock the wind from me. The first shot disables the Un-Man with the gun, but the one with the Bowie side steps my second shot with electrical speed as if the Un-Man anticipated my actions before I took them. I inhale, sucking in needed air as I hold my hurting ribs. The Un-Man draws its large knife and stares at me curiously; none of the others had done that. The dot of light

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