CHAPTER TEN

Questions and Answers

"I'm telling you I'm not leaving here until you let me in – "

"Miss – "

"Don't "miss" me, I don't care what the rules say, I have to talk to him now!"

"Miss, no one is allowed without prior appointment. If you will provide your number so I can identify you – "

"I don't have one of your stupid numbers!"

"No number? Then there is really nothing I can do – "

The red-haired secretary paused. Dee Dee watched, trembling with impatience, as the woman listened to a loud message firing through the mic on her headset. After a moment her languid eyes shot open behind the lenses of her glasses. "Number One? Oh. Oh my. Yes, of course. Certainly sir, right away!"

The woman's fingers sped across the keyboard, pounding an urgent command into the computer. Dee Dee jumped back as the gigantic helpdesk slid aside on the floor to reveal a pair of pointed double-doors.

"I beg your pardon, miss," the head secretary stammered, face pale above the scarlet collar of her uniform. She motioned toward the entrance. "The Executive will see you now. Please, step right in."

Dee Dee was as astonished as all the other secretaries who sat gaping about the room, but she would die before revealing any indication that she hadn't expected her temper tantrum to work. Now she stood as straight as a princess and tried to look just as imposing. "Yeah, that's more like it," she sniffed, and walked elegantly into the office.

She knew exactly what she was going to say when she saw him. She'd planned it all throughout her sleepless night, and into the morning before she left Mom and Dad to their packing. I am not afraid of you, Mandark. You can spy on me, hurt me, do whatever you want, I don't care anymore. I'm not going to be beaten by a pathetic psycho like you. I am not going to let anyone keep me from my little brother.

She was horrified at the words that spilled from her mouth instead.

"Oh my gosh. Mandark, what's happened to you?"

He hurried from his seat when she entered the office. He was clearly unnerved by her visit, though that wasn't what made Dee Dee stare at him in shock. She stared because the man before her barely resembled the one she'd known just eight months ago. His olive skin looked gray and drawn. His eyes were bloodshot, the expression both empty and intense. He'd discarded the jacket to his designer suit, his pot belly displayed to full advantage, but a film of sweat coated his forehead. It looked like something was seriously wrong. Could he be sick? Is he doing some kind of dangerous rich-guy drugs?

He was not offended by her outburst. A crooked smile split his face, and he advanced upon her with open arms. "Dee Dee, my dear, what an unexpected – "

"Get away from me," she hissed, back on her guard at once. "Don't touch me, Mandark. I know what you've done."

"Oh. Yes. I see."

"You see? You've seen a whole lot, haven't you?" Dee Dee countered. "You weren't even man enough to face me, you had to use your perverted little gizmos instead. I don't know why I'm surprised. You've always been a coward."

She tensed, feet braced against the tile, as he took a step closer. Mandark put his hands in the air as though he would surrender.

She was having trouble interpreting the look on his face. It was almost embarrassment, but not quite.

"Yes, yes. I know what you must think of me." His voice was quiet and strained. "I warrant nothing less than your utmost contempt. I myself will be first to admit, Dee Dee, that my actions toward you have been horrendous. I have no excuse. I wished to make you suffer, as you have made me suffer without a second thought."

She hadn't predicted a confession. Dee Dee crossed her arms and met his gaze as he raised his eyes from the floor.

"But believe me when I tell you," Mandark insisted, "I gained no satisfaction from my villainous schemes. They were, instead, a thorn twisting in my flesh! To see your lovely face and form, day in and day out, with no hope that I might join you at your side, was a source of greatest torment to me, Dee Dee! Yes, I have been more than repaid for my wrongdoings, in a thousand different ways. It's true."

He took another step. She backed away. There was something in his hand.

"I realize now that I cannot be separated from your glowing happiness and honesty for a second longer. You see what I've become without you by my side! A monster! A mere shadow of myself!"

He dropped to his knees and Dee Dee felt sure she must be in a dream. No, a nightmare.

"Only you can make me whole again, my love. You'll have everything your heart can wish and more! Please, Dee Dee. Please. Say you'll be my Number One. Make me the happiest man on earth!"

The diamond was enormous, threatening to topple from the slender golden band. She could see her reflection trapped inside the stone, split into a hundred pieces by each perfect facet.

Mandark's eyes were glimmering behind his glasses. Not with hope, she saw, but expectation.

She looked into those black eyes and asked, "What have you done to Dexter?"

If a face could melt, at that moment Mandark's would have oozed right off his skull. His broad smile twisted into a grimace, wrinkles flaring around the nostrils of his sharp nose.

"For a moment I imagined that you cared. I might have known he would stand between us, even now."

He snapped the velvet box closed like a bite, and rose to his feet.

"You are nuts." Dee Dee's courage swelled with her anger. "Completely and totally bonkers. Do you really think I would ever marry you? I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!" She raised her voice as he walked away, heels clacking towards the desk. "I know you did something to him, Mandark. It's the reason he's disappeared. Tell me what you did! If you would be so mean to me, I know you would be a million times meaner to someone that you hated!"

Mandark rummaged in a drawer of his desk. "Ah, Dee Dee, your enthusiastic curiosity has always been one of your most charming qualities. I pray you never lose it." With one hand he pulled a small remote control out of the drawer – with the other he pressed a button beneath the desktop edge. Dee Dee looked up at the sound of mechanical creaking, and was surprised to find the panels of the ceiling move away as a television screen descended from above. It stopped when it reached eye level, glowing bloody red.

"Mandark, what is – "

"Find out and see." He tossed her the remote control and she caught it easily. It had only one large button, right in the middle.

She glanced at him, suspicious. For all she could tell the switch would trigger some kind of explosion that'd blow them all into outer space - she wouldn't put it past him. But Mandark was only balanced on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, looking bitter and disappointed.

She clenched her teeth and pushed the button.

The screen went from red to yellow. Nothing else happened. "Keep watching," Mandark directed. "You wanted to know."

And the room filled with screams.

"AAAAARRRGGGH!"

It was a cry of uncontrollable terror and anguish. A voice so familiar - a face she couldn't recognize, deformed by contortions of pain.

Then another voice. "Again!"

"AAAARGHHHH!"

Orange light slashed across the television, ripping over and over into colorless skin.

"Again!"

"AAAARRRGH!"

She reached for the screen. Static prickled against her fingertips. Blood spattered up onto the camera, making her draw away as though it had stained her.

"AGAIN!"

"AAAAARRRGGGGHHH!" That one was the loudest of all. The spindly figure lurched forward in undisguised agony, every piece of flesh bruised or battered or crossed with jagged dripping wounds, and she realized that his torture ended only because there was nothing left to ruin.

"Dexter?"

No. No, this wasn't Dexter, this was someone else. This couldn't be her brother, torn to shreds under a spotlight for everyone to see. This couldn't be her brother, strong and proud and brilliant. It couldn't be him, he would never give up or give in. It was all a lie.

When she saw him sag against his shackles, broken through and through – when a horrible, hideous laugh shattered the painful silence – then she knew it was real.

Then she was shrieking, pounding her fists into crisply starched cotton, tearing at the damp hands that gripped her by the wrists. "I hate you. I hate you! What have you done to him? What have you done?!" All the feeling went out of her muscles, all the spirit went out of her heart. Dee Dee sank to the ground, doubled over, unable even to sob.

"He brought this on himself. He deserves it, all of it! If you knew what he'd done, what his pride and selfishness has caused, even you must be forced to agree!" Mandark lowered his face to meet her own. "Yet even now," he whispered, his breath against her skin, "even now I will be generous. Even after all of his crimes, I am willing to let him go free. It is in your power, Dee Dee, yours alone. You can make all of this horror go away – I know it is your deepest desire – if only you will say one simple word."

"No." Her eyes were dry. Her throat was burning. "You planned this. You wanted this to happen."

"It hasn't sunk in yet. I understand."

He was on his feet again. He must have hit a button on the intercom, orders echoing through the speaker. "CM-334, CM-597, report to my office!" His words to her were smoother.

"I think you need to have a chat with your brother. Then, perhaps, you'll be convinced. But if you hope to save his future you must remember this, my darling. It's the first rule of business: you cannot get something for nothing."

-X-

The rigid metallic grasp of the Mandroids' claws opened up and Dee Dee fell to the floor, but immediately she was on her feet, running toward the figure huddled in the middle of the cold white room.

"Dexter!"

Her brother saw her and screamed, and she skidded to a stop a few feet away.

He put up his arm to ward her off, guarding his face with his other hand. "Please! Don't hurt me!"

"...I would never hurt you, Dexter."

Slowly, the young man dropped his arm to his side. He looked up with wide, questioning eyes. "D-d-d-Dexter?"

He didn't know his name. She should have guessed. Dee Dee approached him carefully, the way you tamed a skittish pony. He shuffled away a bit but she sat down next to him, pulling her knees to meet her chest. She pretended to smile. "Hi, Dexter."

He shook his head, a ghostly echo of his usual stubborn defiance. "N-no. I'm not Dexter. I'm Twelve."

"You are too Dexter. I should know. I'm your sister."

"M – m – my sister?"

Wasn't there just a little bit of the genius she knew, left within him somewhere? "What, you don't remember?" she challenged. "You must be kind of dumb, if you can't recognize your own flesh and blood."

He pushed his glasses onto his nose and blinked at her once. "I – I remember you."

He was so thin. A skeleton almost. Dee Dee could see his collarbone and wrists protruding through his skin. His lab coat, an old one, hung in baggy folds off his body. Stains covered the dingy white cloth, and she saw big rusty blotches on the back where his wounds had seeped through the bandages.

And he wasn't wearing his gloves.

"Oh, Dexter!" She couldn't stand it anymore. She rushed to grab him in her arms - and was stunned to find he did not resist. Dexter collapsed against her shoulder as though he'd been cut at every joint, yielding so completely she struggled to keep him upright. She almost didn't dare to breathe. She thought he might fall to pieces if she did.

He lay still for a moment, bones sinking into the softness of her chest. "I remember you," he murmured in a weak voice. He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself. "But...what is your number?"

"I don't have one."

"Mine is Twelve. You must have a number. Everyone has a number." His accent was missing. Dee Dee thought that might be scarier than anything else.

"I think mine is...Number One," she admitted sadly.

Dexter sat up. "Oh my. Number One. That's a very good number. Why, that must mean – "

It broke her heart to see the fear fly into his face. "Oh, oh no, please don't hurt me – "

"I'm not going to hurt you, Dexter! I'm your sister – Dee Dee – and I love you! When someone loves you they never hurt you, not on purpose! Don't you get that?"

"Dee Dee." At the sound of her name, recognition finally flickered across his features, but his terror only grew stronger. "Dee Dee, you need to get out of here! It is dangerous!"

"No, Dexter. I am not leaving you. Not this time." She reached out and covered his bare hand with hers. "Why did the Executive put you here? What happened? Please, tell me."

"I was bad," came the instant reply.

"No you weren't. I don't believe you. You used to be bossy and mean, but you weren't bad."

He nodded vigorously, the most active she'd seen him yet. "Yes, I was bad. Very bad. I made the Executive do bad things, too."

"Is that what he told you?" Dee Dee cried.

"Y-yes - "

"Then he lied to you! Everything Mandark – " He winced as though she'd struck him. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I mean everything your boss did, he did because he wanted to. Or because his brain told him to." He still didn't believe her. "The Executive did bad things to me, too. Do you think I'm bad?"

"No! Y-you don't understand! I deserved it!" He was half-fierce, half-desperate. "I was late for work! I broke things! I was useless, weak and s-stupid! I've ruined everything, everything! It is all my fault!"

"I do understand, Dexter," she softly replied. "It is not your fault. You only wanted what was right, this wasn't supposed to happen. And I'm so, so sorry."

Dexter gazed at her, completely bewildered. She didn't want him to see her cry. So, she hid her face in his collar and pulled him tight.

His chin was resting on her shoulder when he whispered in her ear. "He'll never find it."

"Never find what?" she asked, absently stroking his hair.

"He'll never find it," Dexter whispered again. Maybe she was imagining things, but she thought she detected a bit of a Russian lilt. "No matter how many times he hits me. It is very bad, very dangerous, and I'll never tell where I hid it."

"What's bad, Dexter?" Dee Dee wondered.

"T-the core."

"The core?" What could he mean?

"Y-yes. The core. It is a secret." He leaned in closer. "Do not tell. It is in my cubicle."

He spluttered as Dee Dee turned her head, pigtails slapping him in the face. "The Neurotomic Protocore? Is that what this is all about? Why he's done this to you?"

"He can't have it!" Dexter protested.

"I know - "

"It is very dangerous. Very dangerous. It must be destroyed. But – " He shivered violently. "He's always watching."

"Dexter, please, listen. What will happen if Man – the Executive gets the core?"

His answer was another whisper. "Darkness."

What did he mean? What was he talking about? She could see he was getting agitated, fingers tapping rapidly on his leg, and she was too afraid to ask.

Instead Dee Dee grabbed his gloveless hand and laced her fingers into his. "Listen to me, little brother. I am going to get you out of here and we will be a team again. We've fought ghosts, and destroyed giant monsters, and kept Mom's muffins away from Dad and gotten in all kind of adventures. We're in this together, Dexter, just like always. We are going to make things right. I promise."

"P – p – promise?"

She couldn't answer. Heavy metal clamped down onto each arm and Dee Dee found herself dragged backwards, hauled toward the open door.

"NO!" she shrieked. Dexter let out a strangled little shout as her fingers tightened around his. "No! Stop! We need more time!"

Dee Dee hammered at the robotic arms, screamed and thrashed against their grasp, but the Mandroids were as heartless as the man who had made them. She felt a sickening pop in her shoulder that bolted down her arm, fingers flying open to brush against Dexter's outstretched hand as they tore her away.

"DEE DEE!"

"Dexter!"

It was all too much. The last thing she remembered was the sight of her brother, whimpering and crying, before falling away into the black.