James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.
VIII
. . . Therefore when armies are raised and issues joined it is he who does not delight in war that wins. – Tao Te Ching.
A loud knocking from the front door woke Logan with a start, and he gazed with groggy eyes at the computer screen in front of him. Once again he had fallen asleep in his chair in the middle of work. It was becoming a nasty habit. "Hold on," Logan muttered as he undid the brakes that had locked him in place. The knocking resounded through the apartment once again. "I said hold on," he yelled, far more loudly.
He wheeled himself through the apartment quickly, making full use of the dim pre-dawn light that was filtering in through the windows. He could hardly guess at who was at his door. Usually, at such an early hour, he would only have ever expected Max, but she would never have bothered to knock. He finally reached the door and swung it open slowly, immediately hearing Original Cindy's voice.
"It's about time you got your ass in motion and opened that door," she said evenly.
"I was asleep," Logan explained, no hint of an apology in his tone. "What can I do for you?"
"It's about Max," Cindy explained. "Though I figured you woulda guessed that much by now."
"That much I did. Specifically, what is it that made you come here at sunrise?"
"My girl's got some issues goin' on right now," she said, walking casually over toward the kitchen. "You happen to have any coffee?"
"Yeah, in the silver canister," Logan directed. "So what do you think is going on?"
"Dunno for sure," Cindy replied, opening the canister and searching for the coffeemaker. "She just seems a little... darker, or something. I think that's the only way to explain it."
"Yeah, I noticed," Logan said, his stomach starting to tighten up. Part of him had wanted to believe that the changes he saw in Max were actually a figment of his own imagination, brought on by his ever-increasing anxiety. His conversation with Max the night before had done a lot to ease his nerves and quell his suspicions, but now he was faced with Max's only other close friend in the world raising similar concerns. "What exactly is it that sticks out ion your mind?" he asked, fidgeting in his wheelchair to get comfortable.
"Well, we were at Crash last night, and she completely put the smack down on some uppity jackass," Cindy explained. "Now I know it's not unusual for her to get a little rough from time to time, but I've never seen her threaten a guy with castration."
"She what?"
"Oh, and my girl meant it, too," Cindy added. "No doubt about it. There was a strange look in her eye, Logan. I figured you might know something about what's goin' on."
"I don't know anything for sure," Logan said, "but I have some suspicions."
"Such as?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Logan muttered in reply. Silence followed for a long while as Logan sat completely motionless and Cindy began brewing a pot of coffee. When it was ready, Cindy poured herself a cup and stood leaning against a counter, staring at her host.
"She's in trouble, isn't she?" Cindy finally asked, breaking the stillness with a suddenness that startled Logan.
"I think so," he confirmed. "I don't know if either of us can help her, though. There's just something inside her that she has to deal with on her own."
"You mean like her own inner demons or somethin'?"
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Logan answered.
"Sorry if this is too personal or anything, but what exactly is it between the two of you?"
"I don't know," Logan admitted. "I used to think I had a clue, but I don't anymore. I really have no idea. I can't even be sure what Max is." His heart sank as he said the words he had kept bottled up since his conversation with Cesar. Once again his instinct had risen up within him and declared that Max was Justice. He knew better than to second-guess himself. So what if Max was all normal and stuff when I talked to her last night? he asked himself. If she's the one that's been going around causing all this chaos, then I truly don't know her anymore. Then a disturbing new thought occurred to him – do I report on her? I am Eyes Only, after all. Justice is a person worthy of a story. Can I honestly keep this under wraps just because I happen to have feelings for the subject of my report? How could I do that and still claim journalistic integrity?
Logan's mind began to swim with the problem. If he held back the report, he would wonder if he did so because Max was a friend. On the other hand, if he did the report, was it because it was a worthwhile story, or because he simply had to prove to himself that he would report on anything that had an impact on the city, whether or not there was a personal tie. This is all irrelevant, anyway. I don't know for sure, with objective evidence, that this really is Max. All I have now is gut instinct, and that's not good enough for Eyes Only to step in yet.
"Are you ok, Logan?" Cindy asked.
"Yeah, sure," he replied. "I have some work to do, ok? You can let yourself out whenever you're ready to go."
"Thanks," Cindy replied. "Oh, and Logan-"
"Yeah?"
"Let me know if you need any help with Max, aiight? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to her."
"Sure," Logan said. "Oh, and leave at least one cup of coffee for Bling, ok?"
"No problem," she shot back coolly. "Original Cindy ain't about drinkin' all her friend's sugar daddy's Joe." Logan could only smile in response, despite the confusion and misery in his head. He couldn't help but wonder, though, about just what it was that Max was up to, and what she would do when this new day ended, and the next night began.
To be continued.............................