Part Twelve: Illusionary freedom; damnation thy name is ego

'What are you gon do wit' the girl?'

'Hmm?'

Sinister looked up from the screen. Green and white lines of energy zig-zagged across looking like the read out from a medical heart monitor.

'The girl,' Sinister spears a cold red look towards Delilah's prone body, 'she is of no use to me; merely human. Her genetic pedigree is hardly remarkable even for a human.'

Delilah Van Meer lay on one of Sinister's metal operating tables, still in one piece. Sinister had removed Malice from the girl as soon as he'd 'broken her in' just like he'd broken me. Sinister had promised Malice a powerful mutant body to live in, in return for her service.

The lab is cold. It's that cold that comes from being around too much metal. I don't want to spend a second more in here than I have to, but I need to know what's going to happen to Delilah.

'Den you gon let her go?'

I'm chewing the inside of my bottom lip. I stop when I draw blood. Stupid, Lebeau, you know better than to show nerves like this.

Sinister flicks cold red eyes at me. 'She knows too much. Scalphunter will dispose of the girl.'

My fingers twitch. Sinister finally turns from the monitor and studies me. He's been doing a lot of that lately. He's waiting for me to make a break for it; watching for me to snap.

'You have something you want to say, Lebeau?'

He's playing with me. I know it. 'You don have to kill her.' I force myself to look him in the eyes.

'She don know anyt'ing. She been asleep de whole time she been here since you got Malice out of her. An' even if she saw you what dose dat matter, she's just a kid.'

Sinister smiles slightly, smugly, 'You wish to save this one's life? Feeling guilty again? I thought I had rid you of such pointless, ineffectual emotional responses.'

I flinch. I don't know what's happening to me. I hate this man – this monster - he's the one that should be guilty for what he did to me. I would never have taken Delilah if he didn't make me. So why does it bother me that he looks disappointed in me?

I am impressed Lebeau. You acquired Malice much sooner than I had anticipated. I was beginning to doubt that you were worth the time and resources I have put into your recovery. I am pleased to see I was not mistaken in choosing you.

That's what he said when I returned with Delilah/Malice in tow. He was pleased. His smile made me sick. What he did to get Malice to co-operate made me sick. The fact that his words made me feel good made me sick.

How long has it been since somebody said I was good?

I'm the best damn thief ever to come out of the Guilds, there is nobody better. I never got the praise I deserved from the Guild, from the Clans. All they did was keep secrets from me, use me up, and spit me out.

None of the thieves I grew up with could do what I did up in Vancouver. Sure they could have broke Van Meer's securities but any meat head can break into a place. It takes skill, style, chutzpah, to talk your way into a mark's house and be escorted straight to the vault!

Nobody in the Guild would ever have done what I did to Delilah, either. You bringing shame on the name Lebeau, on the Guilds, every minute you stay here, Remy, an' you know it.

'Let me take her someplace else. Leave her someplace people will be able to help her – far from here.'

'And what is to stop you from taking that opportunity to attempt an escape?' Sinister didn't sound angry, just amused.

Not trusting my eyes not to give me away I wander over to some of the tools and specimen cases lining the wall.

'Yeah, right. Escape where? Mos' of de American Guilds are gunning for me now, not to mention Interpol an' de FBI. I got nowhere to run an' nobody to run too.'

The thing with Interpol was still bugging me. The FBI didn't really know who I was; just some phantom thief that kinda, sorta, maybe, existed outside of rumours and hearsay. The fact that Interpol had my name on file – that bothered me. I think it was after that thing in Liverpool, England; or maybe Munich?

'I see you begin to appreciate your situation, Lebeau. Indeed all roads are closed to you, except those that Sinister leaves open.'

I smother a frown and straighten my back. I'm starting to feel tired and sick again. It's been bad lately.

I can't decide if it's because I haven't had a smoke in – lord knows how long – or because I've stopped taking the protein and vitamin supplements Sinister gave me. Don't know what was in those but I don't think it was just vitamins.

'A good t'ief knows when he's beaten, an' when it's time to fight.'

I mutter remembering what Jean-Luc used to say when I'd get into trouble for taking it to some punks that called me 'mutie' or 'freak'.

Know your enemy, Remy. You can't win ev'ryt'ing by lettin' fly wit dem fists, use your brain; t'ink your way out of t'ings.

I'm trapped and I can't fight my way out. Sinister is way out of my league; got to accept that. So I have to bide my time, watch, learn, figure out how to wriggle out of Sinister's control; got to make it look like I'm beaten, got to keep my brain sharp.

'What was that Lebeau?'

Sinister steps up behind me and I try real hard not to flinch. I think I fail because he smiles.

'You can't win against me, thief, you cannot conceive of my plans. The knowledge I have. You should feel privileged that I have chosen you to play some part in the betterment of mutantkind.'

'Don know what you mean, homme.' I'm pinned between Sinister and the stainless steel cabinets that hold all his macabre bits and pieces. 'Never had much int'rest in betterin' any kind; not like mutants are dat diff'rent from humans.' Side-stepping I get away and move towards the table where Delilah lays.

'Ridiculous.' Sinister scoffs.

'A human cannot do as you do. Cannot conceive of the power you possess. Just as you cannot conceive of my power, or the possibilities of your species; Mutantkind is the future and I intend to shepherd all mutants towards the destiny you were born for.'

Sinister talks like this sometimes. I think he was talking like this in the early days. The ones I don't want to remember; when I was fresh out of the Deprivation Tank and half out of my mind. I didn't like it then and I sure as hell don't like it now. I decide to change the subject.

'I'll take Delilah an' dump her on some church doorstep or somet'ing. What's she gon be able to say? Dat somebody claiming to be de devil made her kill her papa? Any cop dat listen to her gon t'ink she's crazy. She sure won't be able to bring any heat down on you.'

Sinister waves a hand, like he can just wave away my best argument, ignoring what I say like I try and ignore him.

'A costly waste of time and resources when I am close to enacting my plans; you are needed on other tasks. It is simpler by far to kill the girl, some of her organs may be of use in my research.'

Bile rises in my throat and I clench my teeth. My head throbs and everything I look at in this lab takes on a reddish tint. This is way more than just nicotine withdrawal.

'Dat what you are den homme; jus' anot'er butcher? Thought you were a scientist. De great shepherd of mutantkind. Guess you just anot'er psycho wit delusions of grandeur, eh?' I make my tone light and reach out to stroke Delilah's dark hair spilling out underneath her head.

Sinister looks – angry; hot damn, I think I've hit a nerve. 'You dare question me; you, a cowering thief?' He turns on me but I stand my ground (for once.)

I won't let him kill this girl. I can't. If I do then I'm no better than Scalphunter. Jean-Luc's words in my head again. Remember the seriousness in his eyes as he tried to explain to the crazy, wild ten year old I was about the way a Thief should behave.

If you got no choice, if your life or a clansman's life is on de line, den Guild Law says a t'ief can kill; but only when dere be no other choice, Remy. An' never, ever kill because it's easy. You do dat you not only no longer a T'ief, you not'ing more den a coward.

'Sticks an' stones, homme,' I smirk, keeping my balance on the balls of my feet, 'I'm not de one talkin' bout slicing an' dicing chillen for my science fair experiment.'

I manage my best lazy grin, which I'm proud of because my feet are two inches off the ground and Sinister is throttling me by the neck.

Sinister is sneering at me, teeth bared like a rapid dog and he flings me, one handed, across the lab like I'm used Kleenex. I tuck and roll and manage to avoid major internal injuries. I get to my feet laughing.

'What's de matter Essex, don like it when your puppets talk back, dat it?' I stagger to my feet.

Damn but I'm woozy. Head's about ready to explode. Feel sick. Still I'm winning. Sinister, the big, bad evil genius, he cracked first. I double over and spit up blood, still laughing.

'Lebeau.' The word is deadly. I don't care. What the hell can he do to me that he hasn't already done, huh? Kill me; like I care.

'Mebbe you should build yoursel' a Frankenstein monster instead of recruiting, den mebbe you get de help you want, no?'

I look up at him and only then realise I've fallen down. I can't see straight and everything is red and black spots. I don't feel well at all.

'Lebeau?' Sinister sounds wary not angry.

'Oui?' Sweet Mary Mother of Christ what the hell is wrong with me? I didn't hit my head when he threw me, did I?

'Lebeau?' Sinister is right in front of me; his red eyes filling my vision.

'Lebeau!' He's shaking me. I don't like that.

'How long ago did you stop taking the power stabiliser?'

'De what?' I think I'm dying. Glory Halleluiah I'm free.

'The drugs, Lebeau, the supplements,' Sinister sounds, not worried, but peeved. I smile. So I was right. He was controlling me through those 'vitamin and protein supplements.'

'Din't t'ink I'd fall for dat, did you, homme? T'ink I'm some junkie dat gon do whatever you want for a fix.'

'Imbecile,' Sinister hisses. 'Those drugs are the only reason you still have full motor control. The drugs were stabilising your powers after the surgery I performed.'

'Too bad.'

I laugh. I can't see a thing. I'm blind and going deaf. Hellfire or Choirs of angels here I come.

'Guess you gon have to find another cowering t'ief to do your dirty work.'

Something sharp, cold and liquid runs through my veins. It's like an infusion of ice water and my eyes snap open. I can see again. Hear. Damn it. I'm cured.

Sinister is holding a pneumatic syringe in one hand and looking pissed. I smile.

'Guess you need me, huh, Essex? Guess I'm not jus' some expendable 'cowerin' t'ief' after all, eh? Mebbe you should let me take de girl, seeing as how I asked nicely an all, an' I'm so useful to you.'

Sinister's eyes widen. 'You tricked me? You did all this to win an argument?'

I pick myself up off the floor. 'Dis is what you paying me for right?' I slap a hand to my forehead. 'Oh, dat's right, you ain't payin' me.'

I look at him coldly wiping off my pants. Going cold turkey to prove a point is no way to have fun.

'I'm not askin' you to let me take de girl, Essex, I'm tellin' you dat dat's what I'm gon do.' I meet his eyes. 'I got no choice but to steal for you, Essex, but I don belong to you - an' I never will.'

Sinister surprises me when he starts clapping, not blasting me with energy beams, but a slow applause. He's grinning like he's the one that just got the upper hand in this.

'Excellent, Lebeau; a masterful feat of duplicity, I am impressed again with your capacity for deceit. I can see that I have chosen well in you.'

I'm not smiling now. Walking, stiffly because I'm still not one hundred per cent after that stunt I just pulled, I pick up Delilah from the table.

'Dat's what you t'ink homme, one o' dese days I'm gon be too expensive for even you to afford me; won't be your slave forever.'

Sinister watches me as I carry Delilah out of the lab. 'By all means, Lebeau, keep believing that if it pleases you. But mark my words, thief. Sinister has claimed you as his own and you will be free of me only when I say you are free.'