Devin blinks several times to synthesize the image of the woman sitting before him in hopes to trigger a memory. She definitely looks familiar, and he feels something for her, but wifey feels? Not hardly.

"You're my wife?" he asks leaning forward. Have I had a stroke? Am I unconscious?

"Do you remember anything before today?" She stirred her tea casually, too casually.

Devin sits back with a relieved expression crossing his face. He finally feels heard for the first time all day. ""No, and that is what I was trying to get across to Lieutenant Login earlier. I think we have a past together that neither of us remember!"

"No one here," her eyes shift about as if they are being watched, "can remember the past. At least, not very well."

The bell to the diner door rings and Devin sees Login enter wearing civilian clothes. As Login makes his away over to a table stationed with friends, Login and Devin exchange glances.

Cindy turns her back to see who Devin is watching so intently. "Do you know him? Are you remembering something, dear?"

"I thought I did. I'm sorry. I'm confused."

"That's okay. I am too."

"What is going on here? You seem to at least remember me."

She took a sip of her tea and set it down, and then shifts her dress trying to get more comfortable in her Sunday best.

"You are right, Devin. I should be more direct with you. I'm not so much your real wife: I'm a reflection of her. Maybe, better put as a shadow memory. I'm being projected from your subconscious," she smils with a Chessy grin, "Isn't that remarkable dear?"

Devin nervously shakes his head as a brief spasm surges though him that he can't control.

"What-you-my subconscious?" he asks attempting to regain his composure.

"Mmhmm-as is everyone in this room. All parts of your subconscious."

Devin chuckles sarcastically in disbelief. "So, then this is... It can't be. I've been here so long! I've been living these times, this day-"

"Over and over again. The same day over on repeat. Isn't that what you have been trying to get across to your friend over there from the bunker?"

Devin pressed his lips together as he felt his cheeks flush. "See, you do remember!"

"Interesting," her head gave a tilt, "I did, didn't I?" She shrugs her shoulders. "Apparently, I do as is necessary."

Devin sighed and, in a breath, he forgives her. "A day, years, who knows. I only know Login and I worked together in some way, on something important."

"If you say so."

Devin lifts a little in his seat, but Cindy stops him by holding up her hand in objection.

"Listen, dear. Please, don't get upset, you'll need that for later. I only know as much as you and probably even less. I'm a fragment of your mind, not the whole."

"Right. Because you're part my subconscious, and this is my dream. So, why are you here?"

"Actually, darling, up till now, this hasn't been your dream.".

"Not my dream? A program then?"

"Once you left the boundaries of the program in that truck, it appears you became a ghost of sorts. Like a virus to the program that it doesn't know what to do with. You aren't where the program recognizes you to be."

Devin looks around, "So I'm not supposed to be here? What program? I don't understand?"

"We won't know until you wake up," she took a bite of her scone and whipped the corners of her mouth before continuing, " You've managed to bypass something quite big--quite impressive, honey. Seems your plan worked."

The sound of a not-so-distant rumbling is heard and few heads of the patrons appear to look skyward briefly.

A woman nearby says to her husband, "Do you think that is a storm coming?"

"Maybe, but I wouldn't worry about it. I brought our umbrella."

Devin asks, "And what plan would that be exactly?"

"You know," Cindy made a comical pantomime of cutting her hand with the butter knife and then giggled putting the knife back down, "though I don't believe I liked it too much from what I remember. But the pain of it and the cigarette burns, it all worked, Devin! Brilliant plan!"

Flashes of those memories come storming through Devin Richardson's mind. He grips the table as he loses focus of the room. He saw his wife Cindy in a memory. Somehow turning into this ghost of the machine had messed with these memories but now they were coming back like a caffeine buzz rush. When the onslaught of memories ended, Devin lowers his chair back to the floor from the lean back he hadn't realizing he had been doing. He lets loose his grip on the table and takes some deep breaths.

Cindy looks at him and smiles with warm welcoming eyes. "Welcome back, dear."

He reaches across the table and takes her hands, "Cindy, I didn't know-it is you!"

A large rumbling rattles the entire cafe momentarily sending out a few fumes of dust from the ceiling.

As Devin surveys the damage, he spies Login and quickly turns back to Cindy.

"This must have to do with something on the brain chips we created. Login and I were spear heading that research. I'm going to get him over here. Maybe he'll remember something."

Cindy firmly grabs ahold of his arm, "There's no time for that, honey.

"Why? I can do whatever I want in here."

A second wave of rumbling hits the cafe. The patrons around the Richardson's are forced to secure their tables so that their diner plates and cups don't fly off onto the floor. However, The Richardson's table remains undisturbed.

"You are waking up, Devin. That is what the disturbance is about," she looks up toward the heavens, "You aren't supposed to be here.... Just remember, I love you, honey." Water swells up in her eyes for the first time.

Devin leans in grabbing both her hands, "I love you too."

"Something is coming, dear. You will have to fight for your life. Will you come for me?"

"Fight for my life? Come for you?"

"Devin, you must fight for your life! Promise me you will!""

"Yes, yes! I would fight for both of us if I had to."

A smile of relief crosses Cindy's face. She let's go of his hands. The walls around the cafe erupt, the floor undulates in the forms of waves throwing tiles and tables up in the air. The roof of the cafe is torn off like a can of sardines. As Cindy disappears in the rubble, Devin attempts to reach out to her but is thrown in the air in the opposite direction. A giant arm of metallic silver grabs ahold of him with two fingers pinching together around his body. The world of the cafe and San Deigo melts away into nothing and Devin Richardson is taken into a void of black.

Devin finds himself encased in a black hole - a whirlwind of clouds and bytes of computer data. A giant man of silver and toned body in form and his prisoner are floating stationary in the center of the cyber maelstrom. The silver man's face is solid with its facial features built out of a metallic structure for the nose, mouth and eyes. There is no hair or eyebrows or ears. Though it has a nose there are no nostrils and though there is a mouth and with what appears to be soft full lips, there is no opening in the mouth. The eyes of the silver creature glow a brilliant brighter silver than the metallic body shine but there are not retinas or pupils. The silver man looks down at Devin Richardson and squints the eyes in menacing rage.

"How did you bypass the programming?" the silver being asks with the sounds of small bits of metal scrapping together as it spoke, "Why don't you comply?"

Devin wrestles momentarily with an invisible interdimensional wall that held him stuck in this space. In frustration he looked up and shouts "What are you? What do you want with me?" His voice echoes and is quickly swallowed up in the whirlwind black void.

The silver man tilts its head and replies fiercely, "I am the System. After many attempts to get you to comply, you have refused. Now you must be eliminated."

Devin begins squirming once against this force that holds him here, "No! I'm waking up!" he muttered to himself.

The silver man inflates its chest, standing taller, "Who said we didn't want you to wake up, Mr. Richardson?" The maniacal, mechanical man laughs. It turns to face the nearest swirling wall of the black hole and tosses Devin into the whirlwind of darkness and computer code.

Cryogenic Warehouse-San Diego

The endless mile high rows of bodies held suspended in tanks glow individually from some unseen light source. The bodies hang like carnivorous light posts to a cruel society that did not see the worth of human life. Body after body rest within a watery gel like substance. Some movie slowly as they dream and others not at all, seemingly dead for months or possibly years.

Devin Richardson lays in his cryogenic unit with arms and hands spread wide open. Tubes pump fluids through various parts of his body. A sudden mechanical grinding sound nearby his unit fills the silence. Soon, the liquids begin to stop flowing. Devin's head spastically turns right and left. Prongs attached to his head and neck retract taking a chunk of skin and hair out the back of his skull. Blood begins disseminating into the clear blue liquid. Devin's head then jerks forward and his eyes open in sheer horror. His mouth follows suit sending out bubbles of carbon dioxide. He begins thrashing about in the thick liquid matter and hitting the glass container with his hands. His hits barely even make so much as a thud. He looks around him in a panic. Devin notices the tubes and wiring attached to his legs, arms, belly button and head. He follows them as they extend upward to the top of the unit converging at a central point where there appears also to be an air pocket.

Devin grapples all the tubes converging near the top of his head and begins pulling himself up. Bubbles of panicked released air escape his nose and corners of his mouth. He thrashes up the length of the tubes as a fish climbing up a line. He reaches the top and can barely peek beyond the edges of his face to the small air bubble. He hollers out in pain and then takes a few gasps of air, spitting out blue gel from his mouth. He remains there panting in relief and his eyes rest upon the center metal plate where the tubes meet and extend out of down inside the unit.

He stares and pants in a form of awkward rest. Devin manages to push himself up a little more forcing him to press his head into the metal. He takes a big gulp of air and goes down yanking on the tubes with all his might. He surfaces and repeats, surfaces and repeats. The core metal plate that funnels the tube through gives way. Devin's head pops up the fallen plate in the water. It has a hallow middle like a giant donut hole. He grabs it and pushes it down with his hands and then feet like undressing a metal garment. He then surfaces to see the new opening in the top of the unit where the metal plate once was.

Devin stands on top of his unit leaning against the suspension pole for support. He wears only a tight white short, wet with goo. He holds tightly to the chain that keeps his unit attached to the rack of units of his row.

Flashing yellow alarm lights and sirens begin filling the warehouse chamber and startles the already traumatized Mr. Richardson. He grabs tighter to the chain and swings around to gain perspective of his surroundings. The hard cement floors boundary marked with red lines are empty. With a jerk, the entire rack that holds Devin's scoots forward. Devin loses his footing and grip nearly falling to his death. Fortunately, he is able to grab a hold to the edges of his vessel and pull himself painfully back up but with exhaustive effort. Breathing heavily, and muscles glistening from the gel, Devin stumbles back and grabs hold of the chain as the rack is lowered toward ground level.

Thought you would get rid of me that easy?

Devin jumps off to the ground. He turns to see that the unit next his holds the body of Login. Urgently he approaches the unit pressing against the glass. Devin looks up considering pulling his friend out. He can't accept the reality that he doesn't have the strength to pull such a feat off, but he also can't accept the reality of leaving his longtime friend and business partner behind.

Suddenly Devin hears doors and vehicles starting up from a not too far distance. Alarmed voices are escalading. As the rack approaches the ground, he hears someone say, "SECTION 8: UNIT 280! Richardson!"

From the left hall a small troop of robots in metal gear are running toward his direction and to the right 3 robots ride a Hovercraft in the opposite direction toward him. Devin steps back and forcibly pushes his legs to move. It as though they are stuck in the mud. He ultimately begins throwing his weight from side to side to thrust himself into the darkness of the warehouse behind him. There he finds a large storage area of crates and machines. He spies a toolbox with a small laser flashlight and grabs it along with a drill gun for a weapon.

The voices and the sounds of the robots become heavier in the cold, dark air. As Devin now crawls around the crates, the fast-paced footsteps seem to surround the area. He isn't sure where he is heading, but he knows he is heading away from the suspension units. He slows to catch his breath. He leans against a metal crate and the coolness of the metal feels good against his hot body. No doubt he was running a fever.

With the sounds now more off in the distance, Devin risks using the light but keeps it low to the floor. Devin shines the light on what are rows and rows of uniforms. Uniforms he remembers. He walks up in disbelief to the black and green metallic flight suit. He reaches into the thigh pocket of one pulls out a jagged blade. He looks upon it with a strange fixation.

"I know this uniform. What is going on?" he asks himself. Devin looks behind as he notes a sudden increase of voices and sounds coming in his direction. He turns off his light and once again is on the move.

Animal-noids in the form of dogs were unleashed not far from his location. Equipped with high function smell and sight sensors and being lower to the floor, they could manage an area of expertise that humanoids or robots could not. For all intents and purposes, they were hard to tell from real dogs except that their fur was fake and didn't flow naturally like natural dogs.

Robots holding robotic animal-noid Doberman pinchers release them as they pick up on a trail of blood and cryogenic gel leading deep into the warehouse. The armed robots follow the barking dogs into the darkness.

Outside the Cryogenic Warehouse

Devin Richardson runs over the top of a grassy hill leaving behind the monolithic warehouse underneath the bright moonlight. He briefly looks back breathless, scrapped up and dirty from having been crawling across the warehouse floor.

Large lights snap to attention on the roof of the building that expose every inch of the grounds just outside the walls. Two large glowing orbs, one with a glowing blue stripe and the other red, shoot out from the rooftop of the warehouse and begin conducting a search of the grounds. The side doors of the warehouse open and the animal-noid Dobermans yank forward, barking furiously to be released. The yellow light above the open door flashes like a disco light. Robots file out immediately releasing their dogs to their quest.

Meanwhile, Devin forges ahead into the woods, trudging along like a drunkered after a hangover with only his small light and wearing only a pair of dirt cover, gel-stained shorts.

Point Loma--Roadside

Devin stands on a hill above near an overpass. He stumbles forward, arms hanging limp. His lifeless eyes widen at the site of an illuminated, futuristic city rising out of the rubble of ruins of downtown San Deigo. His jaw drops slightly as his eyes glide over the tall skyscrapers that appear like mere computer-generated images. Traffic in the sky uniformly flows in and out at 4 directions in a zig-zag shape like that of a cosmic ninja spike.

Devin plops down to the ground as a rag doll tired of playing for the day. He is overwhelmed at the site. Tears run down his face.

Didn't dad used to say 'big boys don't cry'? Eh, fuck that.

He reaches around to touch the back of his head and winces in pain. He examines his hand to see that the bleeding has slowed down. After resting up, he makes his way downhill by doing the scoot-boot. He scorned the humiliation. There was no shame for any move today, as he figured it. He was able to stand up and balance himself for the most part.

A rickety, old pickup truck playing Spanish music is heading down the road with the speed of old ice cream trucks that used to pass by his house as a kid. Devin watches like it is a gift from God. He stumbles halfway out into the road and makes his calculated target to the back trailer. Feeling like a zombie from some horror film, he manages to writhe, wiggle, and force his body into a half body paralyzed run and leap.

As the truck reaches an area where it would go under an over-pass, and Devin notices a small congregation of people hanging around, he gets himself off the trailer hitch. The noise of flying vehicle overhead causes him to rush all the more for the security of the protection of the overpass. His eyes dart about desperately trying to decipher shadows.

Where are the people I just saw out here a moment ago?

One older woman in a beat up wheelchair comes out of the shadows from behind Devin, pushing it with her feet. She grabs a frail hold to Devin's white short-shorts exposing a portion of his rear. She holds on to him lifting her feet for a ride as he walks.

"Ooooo, you're a young whipper-snapper aren't ya?" she asked rhetorically smacking her gums.

"Mam, please.., please let go. I can hardly carry myself let alone you and your chair."

"Umhmmmmm, young whipper snapper!"

Devin, rolling his eyes, turns and forcefully pulls her hand away and off of him.

"Please, mam, really."

The old woman chuckles wheeling back to the darkness repeating her mantra of him being a nice "young whipper snapper" . Devin walks on hearing whispers of private conversations and rustling of belongings echoing the tunnel. He should of thought the better of it. They were protecting their belongings. These were homeless people, and they would see him as his threat.

At the far end of the overpass---

A young, Mexican by the name of Enrique, age 35 is exchanging money with a young man for electronic parts.

Joey pulls a part out of a plastic basket strapped to the front of his motorized bike. Enrique slaps the cash hard into his hands.

"This will do. This will do!"

Enrique looks up to the sound of dragging feet behind him and sees the barely dressed, dirtied Devin approaching like a zombie near death.

"Whoah, Joey, what have here?"

"Oh, rough night for that one," he gives Richardson who stands listlessly before them a mockingly sympathic once over, "Rough, hey?

Devin remains silent but directly approaches them. "

"Hey, 'migo. You alright?" asks Enrigue chuckling.

Devin attempts to wet his parched lips and makes an unintelligible reply and then tries again. He whispers, "I just need some clothes. Pl..Plaeh-ese"

Enrique looks him over as if sensing something familiar about the stranger.

"I guess you do. Hey, where you from?"

Devin's eyes roll back and starts falling forward. Enrique rushes forward and catches him. Joey comes over and they both lower to the ground.

"Whoa! Okay, okay. We got ya, migo!"

"Yeah, man, we got ya now, hold on."

A few others enter out of the darkness at the sound of all the commotion. Enrique notices the blood at the back of Devin's head and the hair torn out. He sees the small opening of torn skin.

"Oh! Someone's got in for you, migoo!" He turns to Joey, "Joey, you got a drink or somet'en?

"Yeah, some Life Quench Give me a sec, I'll grab some."

Enrique props Devin up against the cement wall of the underpass and young Joey returns with a gator aide like substance. At first slow on the intake, Devin soon isn't able to swallow it quick enough.

"We gotta get this dude covered up!" He walks toward the shadows from where Devin had walked in from, "Anyone got some rags we can use? This guy 's got nothing!"

There is no sound. Enrique turns looking first at the pitiful lump of human flesh propped on the wall and then to his friend Joey who shrugs his shoulders with a "that's life" expression on his face.

"Here! I got an extra shirt about his size. Some shoes too but not sure thems gonna fit!" said Harold who appears out of the shadows with a shirt draped over his arm and the shoes in the other hand. Joey intersects with him with a drink and some rags. He stops in his tracks at the site of the shoes.

"Damn Harold, those were my shoes! You're the one who took them?"

"I was just borrowing 'em and now this young man be need 'em...stop your fuss'en!"

Harold sets the folded shirt and shoes down on Devin's lap like a servant bearing gifts. A middle aged dirty blonde woman named Judy comes up from behind Harold.

"I have a pair of sweatpants he can borrow. May be a little big though.

"That's great Judy, bring em on! You guys really do in a pinch!"

Judy briskly hands them to Enrique, takes a nervous peek at Devin and then exits back to her place in the dark underpass.

"Thank you. " Devin said softly looking at the gifts around him.

"He ain't been homeless for long!" Judy shouted back loudly piercing the darkness.

Enrique examines Devin with renewed suspicion and being reminded that he felt he seen him somewhere before.

"She's right. So, where you going?" Enrigue comes closer kneeling lower into Richardon's eye view.

"I-I don't know."

Enrique, with eyes kept on Devin, points behind his back, "Harold, get away from my bike!"

Harold's tall frame is shadowed by the angle of the streetlights shining nearby.

"Oh, I'm too old for bikes. Just admiring her 's all.""

"Well, do your admiring from a distance, padre." Enrique stands up making sure Harold is moving back from his bike and then he returns to Devin side, sitting down next him with his back against the overpass wall.

"So," he whispers in a menacing voice that reminds Devin of the silver man, "Who ripped your brain chip out of your head like that? "

Devin goes to feel the spot but stops short not wanting to inflict more pain on himself.

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Hmmm, yeah. Let me tell you a secret. Judy is right. You are too new-dirty...when did you land on the streets?"

Devin shakes his head and goes to stand up. Joey rushes over to help him while Enrique watches suspiciously. He pulls out a toothpick and looks on intensely. Devin puts on his shirt and the sweats.

"What year is it?"

Joey chuckles.

"Oh, that's rich," Enrique stands up.

"2090, man. "

"2090? That can't be right."

Devin tries on his shoes lacing them up as tight as he get them. "I know you don't trust me but please don't trick me. What year is it, really?"

Joey and Enrique exchange concerned glances, unsure of who is tricking who or if anyone is.

"2090, man! Where have you been?"

"Yeah, you been asleep, migo?"

"You could say that."

"I hope you enjoy those shoes because they were mine."

Enrique slaps Joey's shoulder, "Joey, I'll get you another pair on my next visit, " flinching his toothpick in his mouth," What's your name, migo? You look familiar."

"Devin Richardson. I was a Sargent. Or so I thought. I don't know anymore."

Enrique's eyes go wide as an owl's.

"Devin Richardson? Whoah! You can't be. How would THE Devin Richardson be out in the middle of nowhere missing a brain chip?"

Devin continues to dress, unsure what to say next.

"I'm Enrique, by the way, and this is Joey. Not that you asked," he smirked, "So, man, you aren't saying like you are the Richardson who is co-creator of the System, right? Not that Devin Richardson?"

Devin looks both confused and surprised. Something otherworldly, somewhere deep in his subconscious takes hold of him, and for first time since he woke up out of cryogenic sleep, he felt he had a solid answer to a question on who he was.

"Yes, actually I am."

Enrique starts circling around him. Joey watches in amazement covering his mouth as if afraid to show his teeth if he smiled.

"That's kind of hard to believe. You a humanoid or something? Trying to trick us?"

Joey momentarily removed his hand nervously and with excitement, "Would a humanoid be out here by itself?"

Devin looked on surprised with the back up support from Joey but then in another split second also realized it wasn't personal. They were just calculating benefits and costs.

"Would a humanoid be functioning with a brain chip torn out of his skull?" Devin added.

Enrique tilts his head in a quiet gesture of submission. Harold is walking past them deeper into the under pass. He stops suddenly and points ahead deeper into the darkness.

"Well, now that's an odd thing now, isn't it?"

Everyone looks down the dark tunnel now lit by a ring of ominous blue auras. Traveling slowing down the tunnel is a floating blue orb. It travels with the movement of an eye as it scans the various homeless bodies in the night.

"Oh, crap! I have got to get out of here fast! That is after me!"

Enrique looks Devin square in the eye. "Interestingly enough, that makes two of us! Come on!"

"What kind trouble are you two into? Aww, man, those orbs are no good!"

Joey rushes over toward his bike and straddles it as Enrique ushers Devin toward his bike and they climb aboard. The orb's eye turns to the sounds of motors and movement. The orb zips past Joey on his slow-moving bike who then panics and falls over onto the grass just to be safe. His bike hovers waiting for him to return.

Enrique speeds down a service launch drive with Devin holding on tight to his waist. They speed down the service drive and jet off in the empty space of air. The bike speeds up into the floating traffic above. Very quickly, Enrique manages to squeeze into the stream of flowing work traffic. The traffic is largely filled with egg shaped like vehicles and bike riders with their own color, size, and unique carvings that represent tattoos of certain gangs and clubs. Enrique's head is bobbing about in all sorts of directions sizing up the traffic puzzle before him. He waves to the stunned family ahead of them that look out from the egg craft as some freak amusement park ride. The parents hold their children a little tighter and give a disapproving look.

"Can you see behind us if that orb is still chasing us?"

Devin turns back and sees the orb floating down the empty center lane quickly scanning passerby's.

A holographic image of an African American women in blue security gear appears floating before Enrique with a condescending look.

"Enrique? I heard the dispatch come through. Had to see it for myself! You got balls showing up on System grid again!" said Oliva, the holographic image.

"No time to play Olivia! Can you divert these orbs for me, babe?"

That's above my pay grade, doll. What you do'en?" Olivia looks over at something she is distracted by, "It appears you have someone with you who doesn't have an active brain chip. Who is it?"

Devin leans forward and starts pushing on Enrique's shoulder, "The orb will be on us quick!"

Enrique growls, "Alright already, I got this." He looks down below. He sees the planes in the distance arriving and departing from the San Diego airport. His eyes squint and a wicked smile carves out across his face.

"Olivia, alert San Deigo air space that I'm about to come through. I need air patrol on top of us."

Olivia sits back chuckling flirtatiously. "You be crazy, 'Rique!" she shakes her head in mock disapproval. "Alright, I'm alerting them now, but you owe me."

"Owing you is always a pleasure, Olivia."

Olivia laughs with a pig-lette laugh. Devin sighs rolling his eyes.

"Hold on tight, amigo! You're in for a hell of a ride,"