From his point of view, it was a beautiful way to die.

John was designed to be the best detective he could be.  DNA coding at his conception
was proof of that.  All the experts agreed he had what took to be the best.  The problem
John had was that he was never allowed to be a detective.  At least that was what he
thought about his work.

The memory of his childhood was a blank, removed when the wet-wired implants were
given to him at the age of 18, so he could no longer recall any of his childhood.  That
was a strange feeling to John, as he stood in front of the "All I need to know I learned
in Kindergarten" poster.  Reading some of the lines made him think how simple life
would be if we would all follow these rules.  He could think of no one he knew that
followed any of these rules.

Cutthroats, backstabbers and thieves; these were the people he knew.  Although his
implants did wonderful things, like recording everything he experienced, getting the
data downloaded to an uncorrupted storage site, and keeping that data safe was the
problem.  John learned very early that in his world, there was no right or wrong, no
good or evil, just data to be manipulated.  He was trained from birth to be a detective, or
so they say, but he was really just a data collector.

He was the best at what he did, and for a while that was enough, until John realized
he was not helping anyone, not solving crimes or saving lives.  He came to this all too
harshly while reading a newspaper article of a crime he worked to solve.  The evidence
he gathered to prove the person innocent was somehow turned against that man, and
he was sentenced to death.

John knew the man was innocent, his evidence proved it.  He was sure of it!  But he no
longer had the data, wiped from his implant the moment he downloaded it to the secure
data station in the precinct office.

John went home that afternoon, and started to look through all the past case notes and
files he had, searching through the internet database of convicted criminals, and
comparing them to his notes on the ones he found innocent.  The images he saw on
the screen were shocking.  Every one of the people who he had thought were proved
innocent were in fact found guilty.

Even more shocking were the unexplained releases of repeat offenders, released on
the evidence he gathered, which he knew to be damning.  Not all were released, just a
select few, but those few were the worst of the bunch.  Rapists, pedophiles, murderers,
molesters, the list was not long, but it was the worst society had to fear.

John suddenly needed some air, some time to think, to get away.  Just as he stood up
to leave, his personal communicator beeped loudly indicating the 911 call from his
boss.  Emergency data recovery on the site of a brutal multiple homicide, and John was
the only one with enough experience and storage capacity.

"Now is not the time!" John thought, but his sense of duty overrode his desires, and he left
his apartment for the wrong side of town.

Arriving at the scene, it looked like the proverbial Custer's last stand.  At first glance, he
counted 10 bodies.  As he worked through the crime scene, there were a total of 13 he
found, all riddled with bullets, and all very dead.  No women, no children, just men, and
no one apparently over the age of 40.  Several of the faces looked familiar, and it
clicked!  Many of these people were criminals John had helped to put away, or so he
thought.

His training told him the size of the bullets used, but the sheer number of bullets was
what set him back.  Without formal autopsies, he counted over 400 bullet holes in the
thirteen bodies.  It was clear to him that many of the bullets had passed through one
body to strike another.

The most peculiar thing he found during his evidence gathering was that the bodies
were grouped together after they were shot, and shot again.  There was only one
person who left this kind of calling card, the missionary.

There have been three other times John has collected evidence for this madman's
work.  All three times, although the evidence clearly showed him to be the killer, he
walked away without any jail time.  "Not this time," John thought, "Not this time!"

John's normal routine after his evidence gathering was to check in at the station, file
his reports, and download the data to the main computer.  Any deviation could mean
John was tampering with the evidence.  John already knew the evidence was going to
be tampered with; he wanted to know who, without someone fingering him for the bad
guy.

It was really bothering him as to who it could be.  John quickly realized that if this had
been happening for many years now, there could easily be evidence linking him to the
tampering, and he would go down for the count.  He was sure that the people
responsible would have already made files on him ready in a moment's notice to be
leaked accusing him.  John could trust only one person right now, Mother.

Mother was an information dealer.  If you wanted someone or something found, Mother
would find it for you. "Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?" John thought.  Mother was
also good at hiding things, and it was that very talent John wanted to talk about tonight.

Mother lived on the Upper East Side of town.  Security was military grade or better.  
Mother trusted only one thing, information.  Money was a close second.  John placed
his fingers, and then his hand into the gel station at the entrance.  Why was it always
so cold?  Slight tingling all over his gel covered skin told him it was scanning his DNA.

The gel turned green, and he pulled his hand out and approached the door.  It opened
right before he walked into it.  John made the mistake once of stopping, thinking that
he was going to walk into the closed door, and found himself waiting for Mother to
come down and walk him in.

"These doors are set to only let one person in at a time," Mother explained.  "If you
change your mind, you are locked out.  Don't hesitate, don't think, just walk."

There were all sorts of other security devices that only Mother knew about.  For
his safety, and John's, those remained unknown.

Breathing deeply, the air in Mother's building was always a treat.  It was so clean and
crisp, like the mountain air he smelled in the Pacific Northwest.  He instantly felt at
ease, which bothered John a little, since he was nowhere near calm just thinking
about the trouble he might get into, or the trouble he was going to brew up when he
leaked his story to the press.  The calming air soon overtook his trepidation, and John
walked towards the elevator.

He remembered Mother telling him about the atmospheric processors in the building;
something about injecting the air with oxygen or fragrances to ease the mind, and
change your mood for the better.  In fact, John could recall no time that he didn't feel
better entering this building.

Walking to the only door other than the entrance, John did not hesitate and never
stopped, and the door opened.  It was an elevator, but without the security system
recognizing him, it would be just an empty closet.

The door closed, and the familiar hum of the hydraulic machinery took over.  He felt the
car rise, and knew he was being taken to Mother.  Mother told him that this car was also
set up to crush anyone who he felt was a threat to him.  Just a flick of a switch, and the
elevator turned into a death ride for anyone crazy enough to try and sneak into
Mother's domain.  Up was good, very good.

As he left the elevator at an unknown floor, John felt a strange tingling all over his
body.  He knew it was another safety scan, and he knew it was safe since he had been
through this many times before, but it was never a good feeling to have these scans
wandering all over his body.  After the scan, a female voice invited him into the next
room, and he hoped Mother would be there.

"There you are!" exclaimed Mother. "How have you been detective?"

"Not well lately," John said. "I feel used, like an old hand puppet tossed away into the
dark reaches of some kid's closet when the fancy new electronic toy comes at
Christmas."

"Wow, that's bad!" said Mother. "How can I make you feel better? Coffee? Whiskey? An
open window to throw yourself out of?"

"Funny!" said John, "No, I need you to make a copy of what's in my head, and keep it
safe for me.  Hide it where no one can get it until I give you reason to let the papers
know about it."

"I am sure someone is manipulating the data I am uploading, making innocent people
guilty, and setting guilty people free.  I want to find out who before more innocents die
and before anyone can pin these manipulations on me."

"Make a copy without anyone knowing you were there, or I'm dead." John said
grievously.

Mother was no longer happy.  John could see the turmoil on his face.  He could almost
read his thoughts.  Just when John thought he was going to get thrown out, Mother
smiled at him and gestured towards a big comfy chair.

"What you ask of me is beyond friendship, money or your life, John," said Mother. "We
are talking about tampering at government levels most civilians only see in their
nightmares.  You want me to somehow not only copy the evidence you have in your
head, but leave no footprints behind that the Agency could find.  We are talking about
the blackest ice and the deepest encryption tax payers can buy."

"Why are you giving me a history lesson instead of helping me, Mother?  I already
know this, that's why I came to you.  You always said information was the only thing
you trusted, and I trust you.  That's why I am here.  But if you can't help me, then I am
just going to download it to the internet, right to all the news feeds, and let them sort it
out.  I'll be dead, but at least everyone will know about the corruption."

"Or so you think!" said Mother. "What you are not taking into consideration is that the
government already controls the internet, every connection, every node is monitored.  
What you upload will not even last a nanosecond before it is swallowed up and your
news wires will never get a kilobit of information.  There's only one way to send that
kind of information out, and you know it isn't easy or cheap.  But there's no way the
government can stop it.  The question is are you willing to die over something that isn't
even your fight?"

"I'm dead if I don't get this information out to the public.  I'll be killed, and they will do the
data extraction on the autopsy table.  Just being here is killing me!"

"Me too!" said Mother. "You think you are pleasant to be around?  Look at you!  When's
the last time you slept?  Been home?  Taken a shower?"

Mother pressed a button on his wrist communicator, and a beautiful woman entered
the room from a door John never saw open.

"Melina," said Mother, "take John downstairs and clean him up.  Dinner's in two hours,
I want him ready by then."

"Yes sir!" said Melina, and walked, or rather sauntered over to John, gently taking his
arm in hers, and led him to the wall that Melina walked through. They walked through
the wall and John realized it was a nano-door.  Technology he read about a few years
ago in Japan.  The door has the ability to become like vapor, allowing anyone to walk
through it, but when energized, the door solidifies, and is virtually impenetrable.
When the door changed back to solid, there was no noise from the door's closing, and
no sound from the other room.  John was in awe as he was led to the center of a
glowing spot on the floor.  "Stand still," said Melina, as she pushed an area on her
ample bra, and they were lowered smoothly to the next floor.  John looked up, and
could see no mechanism, and no opening in the floor they just passed through, so he
simply accepted it as another adaptation of the Nano-Door tech.

For the next hour and 50 minutes, John was in Heaven.  Bathed and towel dried by
hand with lovely hands attached to lovely bodies, rubbed down, massaged and oiled,
and finally lead to an adjoining room filled with nothing but closets.  Every shape and
size of men's clothing was here.  From athletic wear to formal wear, to evening attire,
and even pajama's, anything he would possibly need to wear was at his fingertips.
John was wondering where the women would get their clothes for the evening, and as
if she was reading his mind, Melina pressed a button on the wall, and the racks
changed to women's clothing in all the same varieties.

John dressed for dinner, never reaching for anything; it was already in their hands as
the women gathered all the necessary items John needed.  Everything fit perfectly as
the women took care in dressing him.  John asked about this, and Melina told him he
was scanned while on the massage table. "If there was anything bad found, say for
instance, a hidden weapon, or other devious device, the scan would have made it
inoperable, or if need be, she would have been alerted, and you would already be
dead, killed on the table and disposed of in tomorrow's trash."

John looked into Melina's eyes, and the coldness he saw in her beautiful eyes made
him shiver involuntarily. "Don't worry," said Melina, "you're harmless! You are safe with
me!"

"Safe from what?" John wondered, and he shivered again.

Back up through the hole in the floor that wasn't really a hole, Melina led John through
the complex twists and turns of the hallways into the grand ballroom, which was empty,
and through that into a small formal dining room where Mother was already seated.  
Mother stood as they approached, smiled, reached out and shook John's hand, and
asked how he felt.

"Much better, thank you," John said as Melina left his side and took a seat at the table.
"I understand now how you are able to stay so relaxed!"

Mother laughed, and saying through a big grin, "Only the best for me and my friends!"

Mother gestured, and John took a seat directly to the left of Mother, which he
understood was an act of respect for John.  Mother sat at the head of the table.  
Everyone else was seated further away, but close enough so that there was no need to
shout.

As the dinner progressed through its courses, John and Mother talked.  It seemed to
John this was not the first time Mother was asked to do something like this, and Mother
had several plans to carry out John's request, but no way to insure the data would be
stored safely.

Getting into the implants and out again undetected was the easy part, a sonic scanner
would be used to create an echo of the data, which could then be loaded into a storage
device, reassembled into coherent information, and encrypted for safety.  "But where to
store it safely without detection," Mother wondered aloud to no one in particular.

It was Melina who came up with the solution.  Simply mail it back to John again.  The
data would be stored in a chip imbedded into a stamp; simple, effective, and
undetectable unless you actually knew the letter in your hand had a stamp to scan.  This
was the safest plan they could come up with.

"So," John asked, "when can we scan the implants and get the data into the stamp?"

"Already done my friend!" said Mother. "While you were on the massage table, the
information was copied, and stored into the stamp.  I was just testing you to see if you
had any recollection of the procedure.  Since you did not, then no one else would find
anything scanning you for tampering."

"Alright then," John said, "I guess this is the end of a wonderful evening."

"I hope you found the meal agreeable?" Mother smiled as he rose to wish John a safe
trip, and said, "You are late to the office, but not too late.  I have already made up the
manifest for the car troubles you had, and made the necessary arrangements to make it
look like it was repaired.  You are safe for now, John.  What happens after you leave
here is another matter.  I suggest you do not deviate from your normal routine.  Do not
contact me, I will find you when the time is right."

Turning to Melina, John smiled and bowed slightly, all the thanks Melina needed.  She
returned the smile, but remained seated.  Glancing at the other women at the table, he
met each of their gazes in turn, and smiled to them all.  One last smile to Mother, and
he turned to walk away, stopping when he realized there was no way he could find his
way out.  Turning towards Mother, Melina was already there, reaching out to take his
arm and lead him to the elevator door where he first entered Mother's home.

Reaching the door, Melina stopped, and smiled at John saying, "You'll be fine, just do
as Mother says and everything will work out, you'll see!"

John smiled back, and reached up, touching her cheek lightly, soft as a feather he
thought as his fingers touched her skin.  Saying thank you again, he turned to enter
the elevator.

Reaching the ground floor without incident, John remembered the doors in this
building didn't like hesitant people and walked straight through the now open door into
the city air.  He heard the door slide shut, and didn't bother to turn around, he knew
Melina would not be there.

John walked to his car.  It recognized his approach and John found it already running
and ready for travel.  The onboard computer set all environmental controls to his liking.  
His seat reshaped itself for his body, the controls moved towards him to be at the
perfect reach and the video screens all came to life.  John closed the door, and
speaking into the air, asked the car to take him to the station.

As commanded, the car drove John without incident to his destination.  He was
puzzled a little by that feeling he gets when trouble is coming for him.  You know, that
hair standing up on the back of your neck feeling.  But there was no incident, no
delays, not even a red light he had to wait for.

Arriving at the station, the car parked itself and released John from his restraints,
opening the door at the same time.  John was sure that there was something wrong, he
could feel it in the pit of his stomach, but no matter how many times he looked around,
he could find nothing out of place.

No garbage cans overflowing, no birds chirping, no wind, no other people.

Wait a minute! No other people. That's it.  Where were the other officers and the yelling
criminals screaming "I'll have your badge!" "Wait until my lawyer get's here!" "I'm
innocent!"  There was just John.

It was at that moment he saw the flash, not unlike the distant flash of lightning before a
bad storm.  Then another flash, brighter and closer than the first, struck the ground
near him.  John made for the precinct door, running for his life, but he never got close.  
The third flash hit him right in the chest, throwing him 40 feet into the air and slamming
him into his car.

When John slid off his car, there wasn't even a scratch on it.  He was sure the
windshield broke upon impact; there was a cut on his arm to prove it!  He looked down
where the wound should have been, and there wasn't even a red mark.

Staggering to his feet, John made for the precinct door again, and this time simply fell
down as if someone reached out and tripped him.  The ground should have hurt.  He
purposely turned his body head first to smash his face into the sidewalk.  He never
touched the ground.  His body stopped inches from impact and hovered.

Slowly, things started to get dark, as if he was being swallowed up.  John started to
make out machine noises and flashing LED's all around him.  Trying to get up proved
useless, he was strapped face down on the massage table, his head resting in the face
hole.

Realizing he was trapped, he struggled with all his might, and got nowhere.  That
familiar female voice, the one from the elevator spoke to him, trying to reassure John
everything would be alright.  He turned his head towards the voice, and saw Melina, or
at least the woman he called Melina in his dream.

Realizing he was going to ask a bunch of questions she could not answer, Melina
simply asked John to lie back down and to remain calm.  She explained how
everything was going to be alright.  He was strapped down because the procedure of
mapping implants tends to awaken the motor functions, and that's all we needed was
for you to be tossing and turning.  We didn't want to fry your brain while we were
extracting the data.  That would be most unfortunate!

So John lay on the table, waiting for Melina to release him.  She did not.  So, he asked
her when he would be released.  No answer.  Looking around, he saw no one in the
room.  Struggling in terror now, John heard Mother talking to him, so he stopped
struggling to hear what Mother was saying.

"The procedure of extraction is complete, John, but I am afraid I cannot let you go.  You
see, I am the one doing the manipulating, and it took me 5 years to get you to come to
me with raw data.  Data I can manipulate at the source, without having to be so stealthy
about it.  You were right to be afraid about having a file made up about your
manipulations.  I have it right here, quite inventive if I do say so myself.  This will be
submitted to the proper authorities if you do not cooperate with me.  I want you to go
and upload this data just as you always do, but this time the data has an embedded
virus to give me back door access to every computer on the security network.  I will be
free to obtain or manipulate any information I want on any criminal, agent, or officer I
choose.  It's a brilliant plan!"

John, furious now, screamed, "Screw you, Mother!  I told you I needed your help, I
trusted you, and this is how you repay my trust?  I want no part of your plan.  I will not
help you, and I will tell anyone that will listen about you and your plans."

"That's too bad, John," Mother said, "I thought we could have made a great team.  But
alas, no, it is not to be."

Mother said in a vicious tone, "Melina, turn on the scanner, and put him back into the
massage program.  Let it run until his brain is fried.  Burn him out!"

Frantic, John started pleading for his life to Melina, who just stared back at him with
those cold eyes.  She reached up to adjust the scanner, and John began to see the
massage room coming back into focus.  No longer struggling, the last thought running
through John's brain was, "At least it was a beautiful way to die."