Chapter Twenty-Nine: Predators

"Just so I'm not, you know, left out of the loop again, what's the plan when we get to the mine?"

He was trying his best not to sound as if he was complaining (mostly because Ben wasn't), but Rex really did want to be in the know this time. The Catskill Mountains were passing swiftly below as Big Chill, moving faster than a plane, flew tirelessly through the night like some gigantic raptor. Rex had asked and Ben had explained that the Necrofriggian, used to higher gravity and more extreme temperatures than could be found on earth, was in no way fatigued by the long flight down from New England. The battery in the Omnitrix would wear out before Big Chill did in this situation, and since he was holding one form and remained tangible, he didn't expect the Omnitrix to fail. Computress called now and then to adjust their course by a few degrees, but for the most part they were quiet. Ben was focused on reaching Pittston as quickly as possible and Rex didn't want to break his concentration since it was his fault Ben couldn't swap shapes to go faster.

Used as he was to flying, Rex wasn't particularly impressed with the view, just the speed and the fact that this was the second alien he'd gone flying with in a night. It was still fairly early and there were cars on the roads below and lights on in buildings and towns. The moon started to rise as the miles vanished behind them, casting the dramatic landscape into strange shadows as they raced to reach a tiny mining town in the coal region of Pennsylvania.

"Get there, get Dexter, get out. Extra points if we beat up the bad guys, but they're not a priority."

"If everyone else gets there, we should have plenty of fire power to spare."

"I don't think so. Not against Dexter's Fusion."

"What makes him so special?" called Rex over the rush of wind.

"He's not like the others," rasped the moth. "He was made differently, for starters, and he's the only one we know that can think completely independent of Fuse. We think he did that on his own, but since he's a copy of Dexter, it's not so surprising."

He felt the cold, thin arms braced against his torso tighten and he knew some sick maneuver was about to commence. Sure enough, the Necrofriggian dove down, following a silvery ribbon of water winding through the mountains and taking advantage of the wind moving along the river.

"I thought they were all Fuse drones!" Rex called, completing his thought when they had stabilized again.

"Not quite. Fusion Monsters and Mechs are more like drones – they'll fight until they're destroyed. The Fusions are more like generals in charge of the drones. The Ur-Dexter is a rogue."

"Free agent Fusion?"

"Pretty much. He's got his own agenda."

"I asked Dex what his Fusion wanted with him and he said everything."

A small hiss escaped Big Chill, his alien equivalent of a growl. "That's about right. His Fusion is obsessed with emotions. It wants to understand love and it's decided Dexter is the only one who can teach him. The problem comes with expressing themselves. Fusions show emotions physically, usually by smashing something. The Ur-Dexter wants to learn what love is all about."

"Oh." Rex gave it some thought. "Ew."

"Yeah. Ew," agreed Ben savagely, putting on a burst of speed.

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"I'll admit to a certain degree of concern for Van Kleiss' interest in Rex, Doctor."

In the bathroom attached to Holiday's lab, Rex paused at the sound of his name, shirt in hand. He had finished his usual post-mission examination and nanite download a few minutes ago and had been dawdling as he got dressed again. Certain that Six's presence would erase his from Holiday's mind, Rex stilled, listening intently and opening the door a crack to see.

Six's back was to him, but he could see the doctor clearly. Holiday paused, her hand poised over the equipment she was calibrating, and tension seemed to drain out of her like water poured from a glass. She let out a sigh as she looked up at the green-suited man standing on the other side of the table. "To be honest, Six, I'm glad to hear you say that. I wasn't sure if I was reading too much into the reports."

"You're not. At least, no more than I have. I haven't been able to find out anything about Van Kleiss beyond his accomplishments on the Nanite Project, and even then information is sketchy. I haven't found anything about his personality . . . or tastes."

Leave it to the ninja to find an eloquent way to state the case. Rex frowned, wishing both adults would speak a bit plainer.

"The boy, Noah. He seemed have a better grasp on Van Kleiss' intent than Rex. At least, the transcript of his debriefing indicated as much."

Huh? What did Noah know that he didn't? Besides how to play basket ball. Rex felt a stab of petty annoyance and pettier jealousy that vanished the instant Holiday spoke.

"That shouldn't come as any surprise, given that Rex's memories only date back to when you found him and he's been sheltered from the real world all these years. He doesn't know how to recognize all the predators that are after him."

Predators? What? He needed to get his hands on Noah's debriefing.

Six nodded. "I'll speak to him. Put him on his guard." He caught her expression. "I know how you feel, Doctor. I want to keep him safe, too."

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"Did Dex ever tell you about being kidnapped by Van Kleiss?"

They had picked up a respectable tailwind as they passed over the Catskills into Pennsylvania that propelled them along almost as fast as Jetray had flown over the Atlantic. Perhaps it was the warmer air this far inland or the Necrofriggian's tendency to fly at a low altitude, but Rex was having considerably less trouble dealing with this brand of speed versus that of an Aerophibian.

"No," said Ben. "I'd heard rumors, not much else. DexLabs kept a super-tight lid on that. I'm guessing they didn't want any copycats trying to nab Dexter. It sure explains a lot about him, though."

"He told me he's got a lot of, uh, I think he said disorders," Rex said in an attempt to be diplomatic about Dexter's obvious phobias.

"He does. He hides it really well. Most of the time," he added quietly, so many things about Dexter falling into sharp focus. "I didn't know Van Kleiss was to blame for him being so phobic."

"Hey preys on people," Rex replied. "Van Kleiss, I mean. And he doesn't care how long it takes to get what he wants."

"yeah, well, he's not the only hunter at this party," swore Ben10.

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"You're going."

It was as much a statement as a question, and it was filled with dread. Ben looked at Dexter with a bit of concern over the flat tone of voice that was very uncharacteristic for the Boy Genius. They were sitting in a row on the open steps of the family's suite - Dexter, Ben, and Einstein - watching as Utonium took care of a few last-minute preparations for his trip. Ben was employed in petting the cat, afraid of being swiped at if he dared stop without permission. Dexter was just thoroughly miserable.

Professor Utonium nodded, smiling gently. "Yes. I'll just be away for a week, Dexter. It's a tremendous honor."

"I know," whispered Dexter faintly. He glanced at the packed suitcase as if it might somehow bite him, his breaths gradually coming faster as he tried to control the panic seizing him. An invitation from the Nobel Committee to present this year's award for chemistry was taking the Professor to Stockholm. Dexter, who was just on his feet after a nasty bout with strep throat, had rather hoped his guardian would forget or the Baltic Sea would rise up and engulf Stockholm's airport or he'd develop some exotic (though curable) variation on strep throat to keep the Professor here. It wasn't fair or reasonable to entertain such hopes, but a week of high fever and poor rest had eroded Dexter's sensibilities and reawakened his fear of being out of sight and touch with the person he loved the most.

"Dexter . . ."

He sniffed, trembling, and Utonium handed over his handkerchief in anticipation of an emotional breakdown. Clutching the square of cloth tightly, the Boy Genius would not raise his head even when the Professor brushed his hair back and rested his hand on Dexter's pale cheek.

"What if he comes back?" whispered Dexter, his eyes focused on the handkerchief. He spoke quickly, his words punctuated by small gasps and gulps. "What if he comes back and hurts you again or takes you away from me? What will I do? What – what if-"

"Shh," soothed Patrick Utonium, sitting beside his son and wrapping him in a tight, loving embrace. Dexter seized on to his father's suit with both hands, a small whine of fear rising up from his throat. Slowly rocking, the Professor stroked Dexter's hair and back as he calmed the panic attack. "That won't happen. I'll have Sgt. Lee with me and Chief Barnes. They'll be with me the whole time."

Thoroughly confused, Ben gave Utonium a questioning look. He'd never seen his friend fall apart like this. Leaning close, the dark-haired scientist softly whispered, "Separation anxiety. Long story."

"Fusions?" asked Ben just as low, knowing there was a lot more to this and wondering who could instill this much fear into the likes of Dexter.

"Not this time." To Dexter he said, "Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," whispered Dexter.

"Do you want me to go?"

"Yes," admitted the distraught genius, knowing how badly his father wanted to attend this gathering and loath to bar him from it just because his unreasonable fear of being left behind.

Utonium smiled, and it was clear he could not love the boy more. He crushed Dexter close and kissed him atop his red hair. "I can cut the trip short a few days. Ben and Roy will be with you here in the suite with you and the girls will be home every night. I'll be back. Don't worry. Nothing and no one can keep me from coming back to you. I promise, Dexter."

Dexter nodded against his chest, swallowing hard. "I hate this," he said in a shuddering voice.

"I know," was the gentle reply, and Utonium's voice was thick with emotion. He closed his eyes and held him tighter still. "So do I. But I'm just so glad I have you."

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"Computress, how much further?"

"Approximately fifty miles. Adjust your course a point south. The C-57D should join you soon after you arrive. The Martian Maggot is about twenty minutes behind them, but catching up fast."

"Has Mr. Green pinpointed the right mine yet?"

"He believes so," said the super computer. "Based on the information available, he believes Gat to be in the first of the mines to close, Pernell."

"Pernell. Remember that, Rex. Pernell. Okay. Anything seismic?"

"Not at this point, though up until the last moment there were no readings when the Ur-Dexter tunneled into the lab this summer."

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He sat with the Professor in the meeting room, nursing a smoothie and avoiding looking at the papers clutched in the scientist's hand. He neither wanted nor needed to read a single word of what Utonium held – it was a sure guarantee that an outburst was soon to follow and Ben would get every detail hurled his way from an irate, offended, distraught father. It wasn't a perfect system, but Ben would not read of his friend's torture (having seen enough in that steel mill and dealt with the aftermath) and the Professor needed someone to rant and rage at. Since a grand total of four people had clearance to access these reports – including one who refused to do so and the one who had written them - the Professor's choice of sounding boards was extremely limited.

A sound of disgust rose up from Utonium's throat as his eyes moved across the paper. There were things Dexter could not bring himself to say aloud, but could only write, such as the time he'd spent with his Fusion doppleganger. The details of what had happened were coming back to him in spurts, and no matter how painful to remember or read, Dexter was relaying everything that had happened.

His hand holding the report dropped limply to the table and the Professor leaned his head on his other hand. Instead of anger, Ben saw only fury and defeat.

"I was afraid of this," he finally admitted, staring at nothing.

He didn't want to know, but he needed to. Dexter's safety was more important than his or Ben's sense of shame or embarrassment. With supreme effort, Ben asked, "What happened?"

He sighed, gesturing at the report. "That thing . . . It wanted to know about love."

Ben waited, fear gripping him. "Fusions can't love," he stated quietly.

Through gritted teeth, Patrick Utonium said, "This one wants to learn. From my son."

He shuddered at the images that rose unbidden to his mind – revolting thoughts, the stuff of nightmares, and he mentally kicked himself for jumping to such extreme and violent conclusions. Suddenly the room seemed very hot and close and his stomach was a knot of anxiety. Dexter was so small – even his Fusion was a bit taller – and compared to that alien creature he was so weak and fragile. He stared at the Professor's profile, willing the man to tell him he was dead wrong. He did not want to know. He had to know. He did not want-

"It kissed him," Utonium finally said. "If anything else happened, he doesn't remember right now."

Ben let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and suddenly he was dizzy with more than relief. A kiss from a monster. A perversion of affection. Disturbing and distressing though it was, the violation could have been so much worse . . .

"But I know," the scientist began, fixing weary gray eyes on Ben, "and you know, that thing won't stop there."

He was right. The Ur-Dexter had the same intensity and focus as Dexter. Ben had seen how relentlessly it had pursued him and Dexter through the steel mill just outside of Pittsburgh. It had been frightening in every way. That creature was a horror.

"It will if we stop him," Ben replied, meaning every word. The Professor gazed at him, taking in his fierce tone and his determination and refusal to see his friend go through anything like this again. Slowly he nodded, trusting this young man to be true to his word and silently adding his own support to that call to arms.