Digimon: Digi-Defenders
There was no natural source of light.
Other
sources of light came from control panels >that displayed various readouts.
A woman in a military uniform, known only as "The >Commander" sat at her
command station.
Control panels were around her and >operators sat at those panels.
"Commander," a voice called out. "Anomaly detected."
"Where?" She asked with a voice that held no emotion.
"Tokyo, Japan."
"On screen." The people in the control room turned to face the main view >screen >positioned right in front of the Commander's control station.
It showed a blue shaft of >light rising into the sky.
"It begins."
"Crossover detected," a technician announced. "Ontario, Canada. Coming on >screen."
The screen split. On the left was the anomaly in Japan. On the right,
flashes of numbers appeared.
They were mostly 0s and 1s. Suddenly the
numbers became a >form. It looked like a large white polar bear.
The Commander gripped something around her neck.
"So, they have started."
"Yes, Commander, GPS is tracking it. It's heading South-East... towards
New York >City."
"Commander," one of the younger operators spoke up. "Are you going to
handle it."
The Commander gripped the object around her neck even harder.
Some of the other >operators scowled at him
for making such a rude question.
"No," she replied. "I think it's time we initiate the DD project."
"Yes, ma'am," the control room echoed. They began reprogramming their >terminals just >like they did during practice drills.
"Prepare the digiports.
Target them towards different
sections of the globe. I want >the retrievals datalinked here as soon as
they receive them."
"Ma'am, what about cards?" A technician asked.
"That," the Commander replied. "Will be up to them."
"Datastream established," one officer called out.
"Read out exit points," the Commander instructed.
"Yes, ma'am. New York, Brazil, Paris, Moscow, Ethiopia, China, Japan, and
Australia."
"Eight," the Commander murmured almost to herself. "Seems appropriate.
Okay, >begin datalink."
"Datalink started."
The Commander sighed. "Let's hope these are more receptive to the
situation."
"Victory!
Veedramon digivolves to Aero Veedramon and using his V-Wing
Blade, >blows Unimon away!"
Albert cursed.
"Why didn't I see that coming? I should've digivolved
when I had the >chance."
"I guess you're not as good a player as you boasted," Stephen smirked.
"Oh yeah, we'll just see about that. I want a rematch."
"Another one? Al, that's the third rematch you've asked for in a row.
Just admit defeat >so we can all move on."
"No, I know I can win this time. All I needed was a chip card and..."
"Give it a rest, Al. It's not the cards, it's the player." Stephen and
Albert turned to see
the boy lying against an air duct, eyes closed.
"But Rick, I was just ready to DNA-digivolve."
"You're just a sore loser," Stephen argued.
"Hey, why don't you and Rick play. Rick's an excellent Digimon player."
Rick scowled and got up. "I didn't bring my deck."
"You can use my deck," Albert argued.
"You mean the loser deck," Stephen joked.
Rick just got up and left the rooftop where he and his friends usually
played Digimon >after school. He didn't want to tell the others, but he >wasn't as confident about playing >the game as they might've thought.
He didn't have the
instinct that most Digimon >players had. He reached into his pocket and
took out a card, his best card. A Betamon >card.
Rick walked down eighth avenue passing an electronics store. As he stopped
to look at >a display computer, he noticed the screen glowing abnormally.
Suddenly his name >popped up on the screen. Rick
looked around to make sure nobody was around. >Nobody was, in fact, not
even the store's clerk noticed it.
Quietly, Rick snuck inside, thankful to the fates that there wasn't a bell.
He turned the >monitor around. Energy shot out and formed a strange
device in his hand.
It was >shaped like a
watch but it had buttons and a small video screen on it. There was also
two slots. A large one on the side and a small one on the back.
"Cool," Rick commented as he put it on. "I wonder if I can get cable on
this thing." He >started pushing buttons.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing?" Rick swished around to see the clerk
scowling at him.
"If you wanted to see the display model, you should've asked. I swear, you >kids, you think everything you can touch is yours..." As the clerk
complained about "today's delinquents,"
Rich's hand with the strange device on it touched the
monitor.
Numbers >began flashing on the
screen of the device.
"You have two seconds to get out of here before I decide to call the
poli..." Out of >nowhere, energy emitted from the monitor and swallowed
Rick.
"Huh? Where'd he go?"
The sun was just about setting over the Arc d'Triumph. 13 year old Marisa >LeChon >leaned against the side of the large structure, within eye distance >from the Eiffel Tower >and Versailles Palace.
She was delibrately waiting for the sun
to go down. Not to see >the sunset, but todrive her mom crazy. Normally,
she would be home by 3:30 (Paris >time),
but after her mother gave her a scolding due to staying out too
late, especially on >weeknights, she started staying out just long enough
to make her parents worry. But she >was about to be thrown a curve ball.
"Marisa!" Marisa gasped and turned to see her mother coming out in
trenchcoat and high-heels.
"There you are. So this is where
you've been sneaking off to."
"Mom..."
"Don't give me any excuses, young lady, you're already in deep trouble as
it is."
"I wasn't going to give you an excuse," Mari snapped.
"Don't snap at me, you little... This is the fifteenth time you've been out >late. You think >I'm running a hotel here?"
"With the number of boyfriends you bring home per week? Yeah, I think
you're running >a hotel, or at least a brothel."
"How dare you! Get to your room now!" Mari thumbed her nose at her mother
but >went to her room.
She could hear her mother complaining on the
phone, complaining >about "how could I have produced such a little brat. I >don't know where I went wrong."
With contempt in her, Mari booted up her computer and logged onto the >Internet.
She >was just about
to explore her favorite web sites when the screen began to glow.
"Now what?" She asked exasperated. "This better not be one of those lousy >pop-up >ads."
The screen deposited a strange watch-type device into Mari's lap.
"Yuck."
Mari picked up the device and stared at it. "It isn't even
my color. What is >this..."
Her computer monitor began to flash digital numbers. Her device also
flashed numbers. >Mari was sucked into the screen.
"This is Nicole Chavez reporting live from Rio de Janero, Brazil. Behind
me, you can >see what remains of Flight 239 to Cancoon, Mexico.
The plane crashed in an area of >the rain forest just outside of
Rio de Janero. Over 100 of the 250 passengers and crew >on board Flight
239 died on impact, an additional thirty are already being air lifted to
Bermuda for treatment. Although the engine didn't explode because theplane turned >upside down when it crashed..."
Behind the tightly-dressed reporter, children frolicked not caring that
they were getting >more attention from the media-watching public than the >reporter was.
One child however wasn't as giddy as the others were. He sat against the
side of a >building
with his knees pulled up against his small chest.
A woman came up to him. "Jorge, are you all right?"
"Yes, Senora Hernandez, I am all right. I am just sorry for the plane
crash."
"So am I, Jorgito, it is always sad when people die."
"Do you think this will cause an international incident?"
"What do you know of international incident?"
"It does not take a genious to realize that one country will blame another >and we will be
caught in the middle."
Senora Hernandez smiled and rubbed his head. "Jorge, you are too young to >worry >about such a thing. You must learn to relax."
And
Senora Hernandez returned to her >house.
Jorge got up and took a walk around his neighborhood. He noticed that the >reporter set >up a laptop with satellite uplink so she could communicate
with her news agency. The >curiosity of a ten year old overpowered Jorge's >elder-like mind and he went up to it.
Suddenly the screen started to glow. A watch-like device fell into Jorge's >hands.
"What the... what is this thing? How did..." The computer screen glowed
again and sucked Jorge into it.
Moscow was immersed in darkness, but to certain people, it was day 24-7.
One of >those people was
Nikolai Pavelnik, of the Northern region of Moscow. He was the type >of
kid who took nothingfrom anybody. And when people did something that
ticked him >off, he replied whether it as his business or not. As a pair
of would-be-rapers were >about to find out.
"No, stop, let me go!"
"Shut up, you little tramp, or we'll cut your throat!" Nikolai turned to
see a woman >between two men. One of them was holding her arms back while
the other was trying >to rip off her blouse.
"Stop it! For God's sake, stop it!"
"God will save you only after we're done with you."
"The lady asked you to stop it." Nikolai appeared behind the trio.
"Hey, Ron, look at this, kid's trying to be a hero."
"Shouldn't you be in school, kid?"
"Shouldn't you have white makeup, rubber nose, and be in the circus."
"Kid's a real comedian," Ron commented. "Tell you what, kid, I like you,
so I'll let you >off. We'll even let you watch as we screw this little
piece of flesh."
Nikolai looked around and spotted a trash can lid. He picked it up. "I'd
be surprised if >this actually worked."
He threw the lid like a frisbee. It hit
dead target on Ron's friend >and he went down.
"Son of a..." Ron rushed at Nikolai. Right before the older man was about
to pound the >kid into submission, Nikolai ramed his foot in Ron's stomach.
Not stopping, Nikolai >pivoted on the ball of his foot and introduced
Ron's head with the heel of his other foot. >The guy landed in a heep by
his already knocked out friend.
Nikolai wiped his forehead and took a breath, he then turned to the woman, >who was >already buttoning the three buttons that the two would-be rapers >managed to get undone >before Nikolai intervened.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
The woman smiled. "Yeah.
Hey, thanks, kid, you're
all right."
"Thank you. I guess I forgot to warn them I'm two-time city-wide
Kickboxing >champion."
"Well I better get going." Before she left, she turned to him and gave him
a wink. "The name's Pamela. Maybe I'll pay you back sometimes." And then
she left.
Nikolai turned to look at the two thrashed rapers but noticed something
else. A suitcase >laying on the ground. Nikolai figured it belonged to >Pamela.
The case itself had no tag, >but maybe something
inside it did.
Nikolai unzipped the case and opened it up. A laptop laid in there,
strapped in by velcrow.
"Sweet," Nikolai commented. "Hope it's got a full battery." Nikolai hit
the power >button.
"Hope there's no password." But sure enough, the first screen he
came to had >the command: ENTER PASSWORD... Nikolai was about to type in >anything when the >password screen disappeared and an Internet screen >appeared. But instead of a web >site, Nikolai's name appeared.
"Huh? Why would my name be on the Internet?"
The screen started to glow and >something fell onto the keyboard of the
laptop, a watch-type device with three buttons >and two slots.
"For me?" The screen glowed digital numbers and sucked Nikolai up. In
four seconds, >the only things in the alleyway were some trash cans, two >K-Oed rapers, and an open >laptop.
The village was nicknamed The Pit Fall (a rough translation of the native >tongue). But >officially, it was referred to as "Adeis Adeba." There
weren't many people who lived >there, and those who did were part of an >extreme minority, the parishoners of a >long-forgotten religion.
The boy had no roots, no true identity. The citizens called him Eli. The >others insisted >that he was part of the village despite the mystery of his >origin, but he certainly didn't >feel like a part. His only comfort was in
a strange sun-like symbol that was carved into >a huge rock.
"Praying again, Eli?" Sanjara walked up to him.
"Yes," he replied. "Hopefully, the gods can help me in my quest.
"Eli, the past is in the past, you must concentrate on the present."
Sanjara shook her >head. "I don't know what
we're going to do with you."
"I'm sorry, San. I am being obsessive again, aren't I."
"You are only human, Eli. Come to bed."
"I'll be there in a minute, I just want to take a walk."
"Well don't be too long." Sanjara threw her long coiled hair back behind
her shoulder >and went away.
Eli got up and went to the outskirts of the village. It was very quiet,
just the way he >liked it.
Suddenly, he stepped on something that didn't feel natural. Eli looked
down and came >face-to-face with a skull. Eli screamed and staggered back.
It was a full skeleton.
"A... a skeleton. Wh... what happened?"
He asked
the empty air. He looked around >and discovered something. A small gray >screen laid near the skeleton's hip bone. Ever >so gingerly, Eli picked it >up. The writing was in English. Eli had picked up some of the >language
when the United Nations Humanitarian Relief people came by last month.
"Log... on...l...ine. Log online. Is that what it says? Why does it
say..."
The palm pilot >that he held began to
glow as it connected to the Internet vie a satellite uplink. The >glowing >screen deposited a strange watch-type device onto his feet.
Eli staggered back with fear. What was this strange device that literally >popped out of >nowhere?
"Sanjara," Eli called silently, but nervously. But none heard his call.
Eli picked up a >stick and poked the watch-device with it.
Nothing
happened. Eli poked it a few more >times before deciding it was safe to
pick up. It felt cool to the touch. Eli touched the >device to the palm >pilot, he was sucked into it.
"Commander," an officer called. "Over half of the retrievals have been >acquired. We're >still waiting for China, Japan, and Australia."
"Good, keep it up."
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