July 11th, 2011 – Day 1732 and counting

It's not unusual for me to come "home" from my missions alone. It allows me time to decompress… To rearrange my thoughts and be okay with carrying out my orders, being them to spy, steal, destroy, or kill.

For the millionth time, I tell myself this won't last long. I'm almost at the end. It's been five days since I saw those videos, and part of me wants to believe John is out there just to help me out. It's a part of me that is growing every day…

I park on my usual spot just to realize that Maggs's car is also parked on her usual spot. I know there's trouble. I wasn't off when I told Parker that I wouldn't be coming for a few nights, but maybe I should have added a couple of weeks.

There's only one reason for Maggs to be here. And it always involves me under a lot of stress, so buried in physical tests I'd wish I were plotting someone else's demise.

Chapter Twenty-Five
Summer Time

"I just got wind of this two hours ago," Frank said as he paced back and forth, while Maggs sipped her coffee and Max felt like turning around, getting his jeep, and disappear—drugs be damned. "Summers will be here at 6:00 a.m. with a new battery of tests he says will get you further."

Leave it to Frank's extended grapevine to tell him when trouble was coming. Sure, Summers had tight schedules to coordinate with Max's very tight schedules, so surprise visits were… nonexistent. That Summers had decided to just pop out of nowhere was a matter of concern.

You are this close to leaving, just play along, he told himself as Frank told him pretty much the same thing: "if you follow his instructions, chances are he'll get tired to wait for you to magically produce a new trick."

As I said, play along.

"Why does Summers think Max can do something else is beyond me," Maggs said with exasperation. "He knows he has to submit any tests to us first, and we get the final word on allowing them to go through."

Frank nodded. Max watched them debating their joint strategy, as they usually did whenever Summers was scheduled, or anything major was about to happen in his life.

Like being born.

They lied to me. They have lied to me since the moment I came out of that pod. So why were they fighting for him? Why did they despise Summers as much as he did? Were they the enemy or not?

It won't matter once I'm out.

He fervently hoped it wouldn't.

"Well, whatever he's thinking, he has another thought coming," Frank said, stopping. "We can go ahead and re-schedule Max's six month evaluation."

"You think Summers won't care to reschedule our reschedule?" Maggs interrupted, going for another cup of coffee. She was addicted to it the same way Max was addicted to checking on Parker. "What kind of strings he must have pulled to land on us like this…?"

"At least we can win a day or two to regroup."

"Why don't we just give in?" Max asked, for the first time getting a say on his own future. Frank and Maggs looked at him as if he'd said he was pregnant. "I mean, he always wins. You might delay it, you might change some of his tests, but he always wins. This way at least he'll leave sooner rather than later."

"Because we're giving him power," Maggs answered firmly, her coffee forgotten on the table. "Is no secret to you that Summers thinks we are too soft on you, and that you should be accomplishing more. When Frank and I run interference, it isn't because we think we can spare you, though we certainly try. It is so he knows he can't barge in and use you."

Funny, it felt as if everyone wanted to use him these days.

He didn't sleep much that night. He hadn't been for the past weeks, and although his powers fixed the dark circles under his eyes, his concentration was off. And an off concentration meant his flashes started to multiply like bunnies.

The bright side about having seen Parker not a week ago was that he hadn't gotten any ill flashes from her. Or actually, any flashes at all. He'd been too nervous to get them. Too anxious about her having rattled him out that he had forgotten all about getting a flash, and had started thinking about just getting out of the base.

Just like Frank had promised, someone knocked on his door before 6:30 a.m. The request to get ready and come out had not really been a request, but an order. The messenger hadn't been from around there, either, so it was obvious that Summers hadn't come alone.

Great, just great. Audiences didn't make him nervous, but they made him feel self-conscious. Yes, he was different, yes, he was special. And yes, he could do nice tricks. But the stares that he would invariable get from those new to his powers were unnerving.

Haunting.

It didn't matter. Before the clock had hit 7:00 a.m., Max stood in front of Summers, who looked at him with a rather predatory eye.

Don't flinch. Don't flinch. Don't even think about flinching…

"Sorry for the early rise, Max. But I think I might have some good ideas of how to spend your morning."

Summers's smile barely qualified as such. Don't flinch, Don't— He flinched, and covered it with a cough.

"You're not coming down with something, are you?" Summers said, standing up, taking a folder with several papers inside.

Max shook his head. He'd never gotten sick in his life. He'd gotten pain, and had felt nauseous and dizzy from drugs and tests. But a flu? A run of the mill cold? Those were as alien to him as… well, they were just alien. Things he read about that he never got to experience, like vacation time, and a drug-free life.

Unlike all the other times, Summers didn't explain what the tests were about. He didn't even introduce his two aids. Worse, Frank and Maggs were nowhere to be found.

The next twenty minutes were business as usual. He got undressed, put on some pants, and let them stick as many electrodes to his body as they wished. Soon, the hum of monitors joined their quiet task. He was used to hearing his heartbeat going up as he raced or exerted himself, and he was used to hear it going slow if he was coming down and relaxing. That usually involved Maggs, and with her out of the picture, so was a quiet morning.

His heartrate leveled out at 72 bpm, and he took a deep breath. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen soon.

"It's been brought to our attention that you have been a bit… distracted," Summers started, getting his folder open. Max's heartrate started to raise, and Max hastily concentrated on getting it down. Lying to polygraphs had been part of his training ages ago, and this was no different than that. Just a big, happy lie detector, he thought as he looked straight at Summers as the man stood up, the folder on his hand.

"Why do you think it happens?" he asked off handily. Max swallowed for a moment, his eyes never wandering off Summers's.

"I've been in a lot more missions lately. I tried to deal with them, but it's hard sometimes… if I don't get out much, I get a bit angsty."

"Is that so?" Summers asked, leaning on the examination table in front of Max.

"Distractions can be dangerous," he sneered a moment later. "What's so interesting about Starbucks?"

He couldn't stop the monitors from picking his jump in cardiac rhythm. He willed it back hastily, but the damage had already been done.

"What does it have to do with training?" Max asked, trying to sound curios and confused.

"Why Starbucks?" Summers repeated, like a dog that wouldn't let his bone go.

"It's near, it's cheap, and people mingle. I don't stand out, I don't spend much, and I don't go far. It was the logical destination."

"Hm…" Summers said. He barely inclined his head once, indicating the aid behind Max to do something. And that something was to heavily place his hand on Max's shoulder.

The flash came instantly. And so did his bio-readings, the monitors picking up his reaction.

"What did you see?" Summers asked in a deadly tone. Max barely heard him, as an image of the aid as an eight-year old almost drowning on a pool passed through his mind. He coughed on reflex, shaking his head once to dispel the sensation.

"I—" Nothing was not an option. The monitors had picked the changes in his body. And Summers knew.

I don't care what you did with yours!

Frank's words echoed in his mind. Summers had trained John, or at the very least, had supervised him.

"I don't—"

Distractions… how had Summers learned about his distractions? Starbucks was actually an easy one: he reported about it all the time. He came back to the base with a cup all the time. Had he gotten careless? Had John rattled him out?

"I don't know…" he finally admitted, a compromise between how much he had mastered his power and how much Summers wanted to know.

"Since when are you getting them? The images?"

"About… I don't know, maybe three weeks?"

"Try harder," Summers intoned, leaning so close to Max, that Max almost backed off. Almost.

"I don't know. At first I didn't know they were happening. They have been keeping me awake for some time now. It's hard to sleep… my attention has been… off."

"And you failed to report that to Frank because…?"

This time, he couldn't will the monitors to show his heartbeat hadn't increased. Lying was one thing. Lying at this level, under Summers steely eyes, was plain impossible.

"I… I was waiting to understand it."

"Well, what do you know? That's exactly what I want."

This was his worst nightmare: a new power, Summers, and no way out.

And it was only starting.