A/N: Thanks to IWillNeverStopFangirling and ChChi-O for reviewing, and also thank you to the people who added this story to alerts and favorites. Enjoy the next chapter. Questions, feedback, comments? Review or PM me.
all the kids come home with foreign limbs
The compound is in an uproar by the time Khan and Dr. Singh return. No one can speak of anything but the fight, so that no matter where Khan goes seeking some measure of respite, he cannot escape the whispers. He cannot escape the other trainees and their dissections of the day's events. His own name invariably pops up - everyone knows that he will replace Chalice - but there is speculation now, because he will need a second position and no one knows who it will be.
Midway, one of the oldest trainees, obviously thinks he does. He gives Khan a furtive grin as they pass in the hall, and Khan has to work hard not to strangle him; the idea of anyone, especially Midway, benefiting from what happened to Chalice is repulsive. Worse, though, are those trainees who clap Khan on the back and offer their congratulations on his sudden advancement. If one more person tells Khan to give them - whoever they may be - hell, he's going to make sure that the person who said it arrives there sooner than scheduled.
Khan's mood only worsens when his request to meet Chalice's plane at the airport is denied, and this time, he really does lose his temper, lifting up a table from the mess hall and hurling it through a window. Beneath his rage, though, is worry. Chalice may have survived the fight, but the government has no use for a crippled champion, and he's afraid that they will quietly get rid of her. He would not put it past them. He's seen too many weak trainees disappear with no explanation. If not for Chalice's help, he might have been one of them, and that makes him even more determined to save her.
On the walk to Dr. Singh's office, Khan goes over his arguments for keeping Chalice alive in his head, knowing that persuasion is a delicate art and that someone's life hangs in the balance. He cannot appear nervous or overconfident. Khan is so busy thinking through possible objections to his points that he nearly collides with someone else on their way down the hall.
"Midway," he acknowledges the other trainee.
Midway smiles at him easily, friendly as always. Khan knows that out of the two of them, Midway is the more likeable, but the fights are not a popularity contest, and Khan knows which is most important. "Hey, Khan. What brings you down this way?"
"I need to speak with Dr. Singh," Khan says. "What are you doing here, Midway? Dr. Balanchine's office is the other way."
"Balanchine's talking to Singh right now," Midway says, "and she asked me to come up with her. I guess Singh wanted to talk in private, so they sent me back. They'll probably be done by the time you get there."
Khan nods and maneuvers around Midway, moving quickly, but not quickly enough to outpace the inevitable. "Hey, Khan," Midway calls after him as he disappears around the corner, "congratulations."
Khan barely responds, too busy considering the latest development. He'd forgotten that Midway is not the only one who stands to gain from Chalice's injury; Balanchine, the doctor who designed Midway's genetic modifications, does, too. Her status in the project would rise immensely if Midway gained second position. With that in mind, he stops outside the closed door of Dr. Singh's office and cautiously places an ear against the wall, listening in.
Balanchine's voice is the first one he hears. "For the last time, Ravi, this will not work."
"We have to keep up," Dr. Singh says. He adds more, but his inflection drops in the middle of the sentence and Khan is only able to catch the last few words. "…cannot afford to fall behind. Not after today."
"Today was an isolated incident." Khan can hear Balanchine's heels clicking on the floor as she paces.
"I do not believe it was," Dr. Singh contradicts her. "Earlier, Khan postulated that Baikal ordered Taiga to kill, but I think that the continued attempts on the part of the government to enhance her intelligence drove her insane. Every other country that fields champions has adopted that strategy. This will happen again, and we need to be ready."
"It's ridiculous," Balanchine says. "First of all, she is too old."
She? There are no female trainees in the pipeline. Chalice was the last; although Singh advocated for more females, Balanchine ignored his advice and proceeded to train only men. Khan edges closer to the door.
"The course of enhancements I have designed will not damage her," Dr. Singh says. The note of pride in his voice is unmistakable, and with it comes a sting of rebuke; Khan knows that Balanchine has killed more trainees during the enhancement stage than any other scientist. "You must admit, Antonia, that the base material is very strong."
"It is," Balanchine says reluctantly, "but even if she does survive, there is no way she will be ready in time."
"She will be ready, I assure you," Dr. Singh says. "If you have no other objections, Antonia, then I must -"
"I certainly do have more objections," Balanchine snaps. "You know who your subject is, don't you? When Nadezhda finds out what you've done, she'll tear you to shreds."
"She will not find out," Dr. Singh says. "And if she does, it will be too late. But I do not believe she will discover us. She is concerned at the moment with…other matters."
"Such as the funeral arrangements for her only daughter," Balanchine says. "That was inventive, Ravi."
"Thank you," Dr. Singh responds. Khan can hear the coldness in his tone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Antonia, I have to meet with the team concerning my injured champion."
Khan hears them moving toward the door and he bolts, disappearing around the corner and then walking calmly back toward the doctors as they emerge from the office.
Dr. Singh does not look surprised to see him. "Khan, what is it?"
"I would like to speak to you, Dr. Singh," Khan says, forcing every iota of respect he can muster into the words. There can be no mistakes today. He glances at Balanchine. "Alone."
"All right," Dr. Singh says, ushering Khan into the office. "Antonia, later." He closes the door. "Make it quick, Khan. I have a meeting to attend."
"Do you have any news on Chalice's condition?" Khan says. This question is crucial; he will have to formulate his argument entirely around the answer.
Dr. Singh sighs. "Her doctors tell me that the damage to her spinal cord was severe. She may walk again, but she will never fight. What is it, Khan? I am sure you didn't come here to speak simply about Chalice's condition."
"I want to know what is going to happen to her."
Dr. Singh watches him with dark eyes. There is no cruelty in his expression, but there is no kindness, either. "You know what the directors will recommend. You are old enough to remember Liberty."
Say hello to Liberty when you see her in hell, would you? That was what Taiga had said, and Khan remembers all too well what happened to Liberty. The first American champion killed Taiga's older sister, back in the days when the arena bouts were fought to the death. And when Liberty was badly injured, the project terminated her and sent out the word that she had died of natural causes. Khan fights down the fear that rises inside him. "I know that, and I would like to suggest an alternative."
"What is it?"
"Let Chalice live," Khan says. "Fix her spine, allow her to walk again, and use her to train the other champions."
"We have professional trainers for that," Dr. Singh says, but he is listening, at least, and Khan knows there is still hope. He keeps talking.
"Those same professional trainers could do nothing for me," Khan says, "and yet here I stand before you, about to enter the arena. I am where I am today because Chalice trained me, and I believe she could do the same for others. Who knows how many trainees could do just as well as I have with her help?"
Dr. Singh nods, conceding Khan's point, but he stays silent. Waiting. Khan keeps talking. "In addition, Chalice could provide insight that no professional trainer, however skillful, could offer; the truth about what it is like in the arena. To lose her at this stage would be to lose a valuable asset."
Dr. Singh goes to his desk and sits down. He steeples his fingers and rests his chin on them. "Do you know what Resolution 72-A is, Khan?"
"Of course," Khan says. It is a U.N. resolution relating to the arena bouts; the doubles rule, which would allow each country to field two champions who will fight as a pair in high-stakes battles. "It will never pass the General Assembly."
"It is expected to pass by next year," Dr. Singh says, and Khan blinks, surprised. "Russia has thrown its weight behind the resolution, knowing it will put us at a disadvantage, and they have managed to secure the Contras' cooperation by offering them another champion. The Far Eastern countries will support it because they have no reason not to. They have the votes to push it through, Khan, meaning that, starting next year, we must field two champions instead of one."
Khan wants desperately to get back to the issue at hand, but he plays along, knowing that to disrespect the doctor at this stage would be fatal. "So Midway will be advanced as well?"
"No," Dr. Singh says. "Midway will serve as your second position. An entirely new champion will be created to serve as your partner in the doubles fights. The process has already begun; her memories are being erased as we speak and the enhancements will begin tomorrow."
"And you expect to have a new champion ready to fight in a year?" Khan says.
"With Chalice training her, it is possible," Dr. Singh says, and Khan breathes a sigh of relief. Chalice will be spared after all. "We will have to work quickly."
"But why not Midway?" Khan persists. The project is nothing if not efficient, and creating a new champion from scratch is as wasteful as it gets.
"Because to survive in the doubles fights, under the rules Russia will set, you need a partner who complements you, who is strong where you are weak."
"I am not weak," Khan snaps.
"You are not perfect, either," Dr. Singh says, unruffled. "As I was saying, you and your partner must be a team, and you must understand that neither of you are expendable. You would let Midway die in a second. And that is why we are creating a new champion."
He stands up and walks to the door, holding it open, a clear dismissal. "Go, Khan. I will send for you when Chalice is out of surgery."
Khan is presented to the world in a simple ceremony that very night. He is flown to Washington, D.C. in a private plane belonging to some minor dignitary, and once there, he's stashed in a small, carpeted room in the White House to wait. He's not sure what he's waiting for, but then he turns on the small TV and understands; the Russians are presenting their new champion, and the government wants to make sure that the coverage does not overlap.
Russia's new fighter is not Alexei. It is a slim, blonde woman named Viktoria, who stares into the cameras in terror. Khan is only half sure it's an act. Russia was planning to reveal Alexei first, but with Taiga's death, they had to change plans to avoid looking weak. For his part, Khan thinks that Russia spends too much time trying not to look weak and too little time actually becoming strong. He preoccupies himself with watching Viktoria, cataloguing her mannerisms, knowing that he will eventually face her in the arena.
After Russia's broadcast, the news networks move to the story that always comes out after a champion's injury; the ethics of the arena fights. Khan snorts. Ethics. Of course kidnapping children, brainwashing them, and training them to fight each other is wrong, but is the alternative truly any better? The arena fights were created to prevent a world war with an unimaginable loss of life, and they do their job well. The news networks should think of that.
But no, they're all crowded around someone's house, waiting for them to emerge so they can be questioned. The camera focuses on one reporter. "We're here outside the house of Dr. Nadezhda Peres, the woman who pioneered gene extraction. Dr. Peres has since disavowed her research and condemned both the eugenics movement the practice of champion creation."
Nadezhda. It's a strange name, and it takes Khan less than a second to figure out where he's heard it before; in the conversation between Drs. Singh and Balanchine. When she finds out what you've done, she'll tear you to shreds, Balanchine had said of this Nadezhda. What did Dr. Singh do that would infuriate this woman so much, this woman who's hiding out in her house to avoid the reporters?
The reporter touches her earpiece, then looks into the camera again. "We've just received word that Dr. Peres's daughter was killed in a car accident this afternoon."
Khan turns of the television in disgust. As he stares at the dark screen, something occurs to him, and all the pieces come together in a flash. Dr. Singh hasn't taken just anyone to create Khan's partner; he's taken the daughter of the woman whose research gave birth to the eugenics movement. Khan can't muster any enthusiasm or interest in his new partner, not today, but he feels a hollow sort of sadness for both of them, the doctor and her daughter. Neither of them asked for Dr. Singh's meddling in their lives.
An aide pokes his head into the room. "Khan? It's time."
Khan stands, stretches his limbs, and follows the man through hallways into the Oval Office, where the President and a cadre of advisors wait. Khan is at least five inches taller than the leader of the free world, and as he shakes the man's hand, he can't help but think how frail the man is. How weak. How unsuited to command people like Khan.
"This is a sad occasion for the United States," the President says with Khan standing beside him. "Our greatest champion, Chalice, has been gravely injured, and we are as yet unsure if she will survive. We thank her for her service to her country."
The President bows his head, and all the others do so as well. Khan looks downward, thinking about Chalice, wondering when he'll be allowed in to see her. Maybe by the time he gets back, she'll be out of surgery, and he can talk to her at last. He wonders if they've told her about their bizarre plan. Then he chides himself. He should not be calling their plan bizarre; it's that very plan that is saving Chalice's life.
"It is at times like these, days like these, when we must look forward," the President says. He puts up a hand and claps Khan on the shoulder. "For this reason, I am proud to introduce to you, America, your newest champion; Khan!"
Khan steps forward and listens to the clapping and cheers. He feels the flashing lights of the camera on his face. He does not smile - a true champion remains aloof - but he inclines his head, accepting the accolades. But his mind is back in the compound, where Chalice sleeps; where, somewhere in the deeps of the facility, Nadezhda Peres' daughter is having her memory wiped clean; where Dr. Singh reaches for the stars and Dr. Balanchine plots to win. Khan had always imagined this moment as being happy, but he isn't happy, only determined. Chalice has kept him alive long enough. Now, it is his turn to return the favor.
Once the cameras and reporters are shooed away, he steps out of the light and turns to the aide who brought him here. "I'm going back to the compound. There's someone I need to see."
On his way up to the hospital, Khan collides with Dr. Singh. "Is Chalice all right? May I speak to her?"
"She's awake," Dr. Singh says. "I informed her of her new position and responsibilities, and also briefed her on the condition of both of her protégés. She's quite proud of you, Khan."
"Can I see her?"
Dr. Singh waves a hand impatiently. "Yes, yes, go up and see her."
He's barely finished the sentence before Khan bolts past him up the stairs.
Chalice is lying bed in the middle of the hospital, monitors hooked up to her chest, her eyes half-closed. Her dark skin has a gray cast. As Khan moves toward her, he sees that the far end of the infirmary is curtained off, but from inside the area he can hear the beeping of a heart monitor, out of rhythm with the one attached to Chalice. He ignores the sound, pulls a chair up beside Chalice's bed, and waits.
She smiles a little. "So, how's the newest champion in the world?"
"I am fine," Khan says earnestly. It is good to see Chalice alive and safe. "How are you feeling, Chalice? Are you all right?"
"They say I'm going to walk again," she says, and a small, sad smile crosses her face. Her voice turns bitter. "I'll never fight, but I'm going to walk again. Aren't I lucky?"
Khan isn't sure what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He hesitates, then says, "Better your profession than your life."
Chalice looks at him, and he worries that he's hurt her feelings; then she laughs like her old self and he knows she's all right. "Oh, who am I kidding? It's you we've got to worry about now. You…and her."
She jerks a thumb at the curtained-off area. "Singh's designed some strange enhancements for this one."
"Like what?" Khan says, his interest piqued at last. The exact genetic enhancements for each trainee are supposed to be secret, but everyone finds out anyway. What does Singh have in mind for his new champion, Khan's battle partner?
"They're leaving her intelligence where it is," Chalice says, "but they're boosting her immune system into the stratosphere. Hearing and eyesight as well. The regular strength enhancements, extra speed boosts, and they're adjusting her dexterity. They think it'll help with the weapons training."
"I wasn't aware that they could identify dexterity," Khan says. A thought occurs to him and he smiles. "Maybe if they had known it when Midway was in training, he'd be able to hold onto his trident."
Chalice laughs again. Khan can't describe how good it is to see her alive, after the terror of the fight and the hours of uncertainty. "Poor Midway. He came up to see me, you know, all excited that he'd been moved to second position."
"He doesn't know any better," Khan mutters. Balanchine is of the belief that a champion doesn't need to be a genius to win. Khan thinks that while you may not need to be a genius, having above-average intelligence might help. Midway is good, yes, but Khan is better, has always been better, and no outrage on the part of Balanchine will change that. "Have you seen Balanchine? How is she taking it?"
Chalice snorts. "How do you think she's taking it? She's mad as a half-drowned cat and not likely to get better anytime soon. Midway's promotion was going to be her big break and now she's stuck behind two of Singh's champions again. Watch out for her, Khan. She's going to be out to get you, and she'll be after the new champion as well."
"The new girl makes an easier target, I think," Khan says. He's not unduly worried about Balanchine's manipulations. "You didn't tell me about the rest of the enhancements."
Chalice glances at the curtained-off area, a little frown creasing her lips. "That's it, actually."
"Really?" Khan frowns. Usually, trainees' emotional centers are adjusted for less logic and more instinct, more savagery and less compassion. "Everyone else's is."
"No, actually, not everybody," Chalice says. "Not me, and not you. Singh doesn't believe in emotional adjustment; he thinks it creates psychopaths, and the crazies that keep coming out of Russia don't exactly disprove it. They never messed with your emotions - they only let you think they did. It had pretty much the same effect."
"But why?" Khan says. "The Russian champions are successful. No one can argue that."
Chalice sighs. "Dr. Singh is looking at the long game. The arena fights aren't a perfect fix. At some point, there will be war, and once that happens, Balanchine's killing machines won't be such a hot commodity. The government will need commanders, leaders, people who can make others follow them. That's why they need me, and you, and now her. Anyway, he gave specific orders that they were to leave her emotions alone."
She yawns, lifts one hand to rub her eyes, and Khan realizes that he should leave her be. "I'll come see you tomorrow."
"You will if the Russians don't challenge you right away," Chalice says. "Rumor is, Baikal and Taiga had a thing going. He might come after you."
"Let him try," Khan says. He gets up and replaces the chair, bidding Chalice good night before leaving the hospital and heading back to his own room. He doubts the Russians will challenge him. Their grievance is with Chalice, and by his measure, she's paid for what she did in full.