As he pierced his flesh to insert the first electrode, he thought again of the image he had had all those years ago - a city - flashing before his eyes. In the split second that it took to appear and then vanish Tomas had made out a metropolis bathed in yellow light, thousands of wires overhead passing through a myriad of hexagonal metal grids and the sound of fluttering metallic wings. Beings moving on vast conveyer belts at great speed, bright tubes of glass carrying what seemed like vehicles of some kind, buildings irredescent in a neon glow; a teeming mass of movement and speed - but with an orderliness; a utopia of sanity and madness, but achieving a kind of balance. He could sense all this in that instant, it had all seemed correct. Something within his soul told him 'this was his future - his destiny'.

It was enough to dizzy him slightly, the recollection, it's power- but then the sight of his own blood trickling from the incision quickly brought him to his senses. He hated the sight of blood, particularly his own - the smell of it - and he knew that the giddiness would take time to leave him, it always did. Insane really, he thought, the amount of bloodshed he was about to inflict upon himself in the next 48 hrs was almost too much to bear, but it had to be done.

He looked up at he clock on the cabin wall, 8:36 am. Still early.

As he soldered the first wire into the neural interface box he reflected how it had been a busy morning and the anticipation of the day's events had greatly excited him since waking. He had had to force himself to calm down...

...'Breathe slowly and deeply, that would help', he thought as he drove through the Avoh valley. 'You will be useless unless you are composed, detached. Don't get over-emotional, it is not good'...

...and soon, the sight of the woods and small streams along his journey away from the city began to ease him, particularly the little waterfall in Avoh where, as a child, he had spent a wonderful summer camping with his cousins and his Aunt Emilia. The sound of the rushing water, the smell of the grass and fields, the purity of nature; untouched - campfires and songs, singing songs together, the feeling of music inside his body, from his chest, up through his throat and echoing quietly around the small lake. This blissful easy time was before everything had been wrenched away from him, from his life, so suddenly the next year. He berated himself for thinking about that now, at this important time, it would only distract him further. He had enough to be concerned about without that, 'composed, detached'....

Tomas' country retreat was where he had decided it would all begin, all the destruction. He had moved all his equipment to the rented cabin over a period of many weeks. At night loading his car with various computer parts, implant technologies, screeds of wiring or bionic limbs signed out in false names from the hospital, where he worked as a research assistant in prosthetics, and travelling the 25 minutes out of the city to the small cottage by the lake before unloading his car quietly in the dark, unseen.

But it had taken him many years to collect all the necessary items he would need, and so many parts! Stealing most of them from his work or searching through office remainder sales, by chance finding broken electronic devices abandoned on the street, skips and tips - even an old disused boat in the bay beside his house gave up some useful materials. Stored in his flat in town, his rooms were full of electronics and gadgets. Had he had any friends they would have surely wondered what he was up to. Luckily, thought Tomas, this was not the case. Friends were unnecessary, they only caused more pain. And he was obsessive with the lists he had created, detailing every last item he would need. His file was over 1,000 pages, meticulously typed and kept in a black leather case with the letters K.B. indulgently embossed in gold on the front. It also contained the detailed drawings and written plans for the neuromuscular stimulation system; the detail was overwhelming -

11/02/2067 - Implant architecture: Subsection 9 - Process 12.03 - The chip is placed in the pathway of the surgically severed nerve. The regenerating nerve grows through a matrix of holes in the chip, while the regenerating tissue surrounding it anchors the device in place. The cell growth accelerator enables the regrowth of tissue at 44 times the average human rate making connection times much faster...

It was his summer holiday period. He had 2 weeks off; just enough time, he thought, if things went well. It would take much longer though to fully complete his task and he would need to rest of course, but hopefully the initial programming would be complete by then and it would continue to work by itself while he slept, the dream coordinator programme would allow him to do this.

A machine-grafted human - his ultimate dream would finally be realised. It had taken him 13 years to get to the position where his work could commence; much of the theory and learning had been done in his spare time and followed by a thorough setting up of each section of the plan. Much time had been spent practising meditations of various kinds to achieve the necessary concentration and mind manipulation power needed to direct his systems with the merest thought. He had even taken courses in ethics and political science too; he was so much more than a basement neurohacker he though to himself. He was a true visionary.

Of all his discoveries Tomas was most proud of a non-toxic chip that could not be degraded by his biological system. The human body has formidable defences against invading hardware. This had not been easy to create, but he had been taught well having spent his post-graduate years at the Advanced Communications Technology Lab where his tutor was Professor Jean Cournoyer whom many called the century's first real 'neuronaut'. At the end of one lecture Cournoyer had broken from his topic...

'There are some here among us who have the latent ability to do something far reaching', he fixed Tomas with his gaze and carried on, 'but it cannot be done with science alone, no, it must be achieved with the spirit and the mind combined. The technology is still young and it must be brought to it's maturity through great depth of thought and a compassionate morality. It is this that will provide the spark - nature is powerful, more so than mankind, you must remember this, but the power to harness it to a benevolent will is within us'....

He had often discussed the concept of 'man dominating nature' with his peers at university and of all his contemporaries no one was quite so brilliant as Francois Larochelle. Larochelle came from an upper class background, privileged beyond his classmates wildest dreams, had been to the most expensive private schools (his manners were impeccable) and he could make what would be considered cruel conduct by anybody's standards else appear positively polite.

Tomas remembered one of their heated debates, in his mind's eye he saw Francois' black hair flaming madly around his handsome face as Larochelle began a counter-attack to some deliberately controversial statement Tomas had made...

'Thomas, my dear friend', he would begin, 'it's really an insane thought that mankind could be equalled or even surpassed by technology. Most scientists dream of this, but it isn't possible. It is understandable that people want to imitate the human mind with computers, but there are no computerised transmissions that could ever equal those of the human brain, even if they are faster. What makes us so slow is not our brain, rather our consciousness with which we approach the problem. The brain is inconceivably fast.'

Tomas laughed inwardly, 'Fool!', he thought as he snorted softly, his lips curling at the edges. 'Such a limited view of the ability-augmenting technologies, so parochial, so... historical, he has no vision!'

'Then Larochelle', he retorted, 'we must work to create a revolution of the consciousness. We must achieve a liquidity of thought to match that of the system structures. But it has to happen from within. The physical abilities of an organism are limited so it is in the mind that the work needs to be done; mentally, we need to extend our memory and intelligence as well - this is the key! Then later, manipulators and effectors will be completely under our control, working with the thought process as if they were our own limbs... they will become extensions of our will, our being - they will become part of our souls, but only through mind expansion!

'You, my friend, are mad', Francois replied, 'but, you know this already don't you?'. He had looked at Tomas and smiled.

Brilliant as Larochelle was he didn't have the imagination that Tomas had. He knew this and the envy showed in his eyes despite the fact that he was smiling.Tomas could see the affect he had on his friend, and smiled back.

'And you, my friend, are a son-of-a-bitch!!'

They both laughed....

Tomas cut off from his reminiscence and found that work had progressed quickly. He was pleased. There were several problems arising from the sensitivity of Tomas' neuromagnetic stimulation design but these were minor and soon the system had begun it's first self-replication phase. The centra l beam arms had created themselves successfully and the bionic mandibles had been tested and were now ready for the next phase. As his system grew outwardly so his internal control turned inward. His brain signals were amplified many thousands of times via the mind screen interlock and the merest thought would send a signal to the arms or some other module allowing him unparalleled and complete control. His command gestures became smaller and more refined as Tomas' body learnt quickly allowing things to progress faster than he had at first imagined.

The beam arms and mandibles had begun the primary tunnelling phase as a hole in the cabin floor had begun to be opened up. The machinery worked quickly, lights flashing, the whirring of the digging implements was noisy but not distracting, in fact, he enjoyed the hubbub; it was comforting, the whirring sound. It reminded him of being close to someone, a heartbeat, warmth... his thoughts turned again to his childhood days - 'Don't think of her', he told himself, but this time he couldn't switch off his train of thought. A small tear grew at the corner of his eye as he thought of his poor mother. The bees, they wouldn't stop! No matter what his father did they kept coming, stinging her flesh. Tomas had stood frozen, he couldn't move. But the swarm had avoided him. Why? He had always wondered why they hadn't touched him, and now he felt he knew - they were scared of him. Yes! that was it! Tomas had become feverish. The vision! It all made sense and now he was living out his manifest destiny. It would be over soon, everything would be under his control. His father was stung several times, yet she was the one with the allergic reaction - and nothing could have been done for her. 'Mother', Tomas whimpered....

Time passed quickly. After covering the entire underground network of the city, the replicated beam arms were at last in position and giving the final nod of his head the metal devices shot up through the ground emitting a terrible piercing sound as they ripped through the earth. Long shafts of steel penetrated through the streets, shooting up through the concrete and tarmac as long translucent wings shot out of the tips enveloping any life forms nearby. Once they were cocooned the machinery invaded their bodies from the brain downwards. Heading straight for the sexual organs the machines began to transform them to the prescribed control pattern.

Watching the whole scene through the mind-screen he saw the cruel destruction and chaos he was causing - and felt happy. How Tomas laughed!...

* *

1 Year Later.....

.. As he stepped back from the vast panoramic window of his room he looked out over the city. The hive had finally been completed. It was just as he imagined it would be; stretching outwards from his tower as far as his eyes could see. It was all perfect, a mirror image of his vision all those years ago - the yellow light, the wires, the hexagonal chambers only the sound of the metallic wings was different to how he had originally imagined - a continuous droning sound. But it wasn't disturbing, no, on the contrary, it was comforting, almost womb-like in its warm ambience...

Tomas folded his wings around his body and felt safe in the sanctuary of his chamber. Nature, the force that had robbed him of what he had loved the most, was now under his control. With his kingdom complete, his reign could begin...