Author's Note: Okay, WOW… That is, I believe, what we would call an "overwhelming response." I can't tell you how overjoyed I am to see the presence of some of my favorite writers on this review list… I'm amazed, surprised, and glad. (May I also add to The Inimitable Pooh_Bah: your works on the so-often-ignored Chimera are consistently AMAZING, and I practically jumped out of my seat with the praise you gave this story… thanks.) In response to all of this, I've gotten the courage to give my one-shot a go as a chaptered story. (I really, honestly HAVE a storyline worked out in ADVANCE this time… ^_^;) Chapters, for the next month or so, will come out maybe once a week, but they will get more frequent after school ends and the story will be finished by the end of summer.
This story is now rated R, later on, there may be hints at f/f relationships, but it's mostly smoke and mirrors, severe language, violence, bloodshed and frank mentions of sex will all be a part of this story. Be prepared. This is your warning.
All of this is after AJBAC, this will be totally in the realm of fandom, because, once the season starts again, all of this will be completely out of the realm of possibility.
I don't any part of Dark Angel, as much as I wish they would cast me or as much as I wish I had Michael Weatherly, neither option seems a possibility. So don't sue, I don't have any money anyway. The character "Eve" in this story has nothing to do with "Eva," in fact, they've never even seen each other.
One last note: (in upcoming installments, I won't write NEARLY so many notes, sorry…) As per my usual style, a main character in this story is NOT AT ALL in the series. In fact, she's going to star directly opposite Max. This is NOT a Mary-Jane. She is the plot line, and if there is a sequel, she will be the main character (I'm already planning). Please don't stop reading after this chapter, thinking this is going to be self-insertest nonsense. It's not.
But don't take my word for it…
Judge for yourself…
Chapter 1, Part I: Name
In the beginning, he was Gene.
It made sense to us, as much as anything made sense to us in this place.
He was Gene, and I was Genevieve, because I had to have a name like his, had to be just like him, in every way, always.
Ours were the most complicated names, when they had to be justified, but once we started discussing our own genetics, everyone was confused anyway, so they left it alone. The others were simple, in comparison. Mandy, Cory and Cordelia were all derivatives from the word "Manticore." Eve was biblical.
When they found out about our names, I thought the name "Eve" would make Renfro angriest, but I was wrong, for some reason. She was amused, maybe even touched, by our little joke.
She was angry at Gene and I, though, maybe because we were so small to know so much. She tended to get very angry when we out-spoke her…
…I remember when they found out about our names.
We had been playing "Escape & Evade" and, looking for Eve, I had made the mistake of calling out her name into the darkness.
"Eve!" I cried, clutching my gun to my chest, "EVE!"
My breath came in quick little gasps, but it wasn't because I had just covered a quarter mile in less then a minute. That part was simple.
I was short of bretah because I was terrified; I couldn't find my sister.
Sister… We had only just learned that word, they thought words like that were dangerous, I would sense it. It was only now at eight years old, at a college intellect, that they could trust us to learn about the world outside our fence.
What were they worried about, anyway? Who would want to go there? Into the dark, into the cold, into the chill…
"Eve!" I sobbed out, my sensitive ears picking up a thousand tiny sounds, all of them threatening.
In the distance, maybe a mile away, someone exploded a wolvesbane bomb. Even from so far away, the smell carried, and I had to sit down for a minute.
"Eve?" I asked, shuddering on the forest floor. I needed Gene with me, he was my bond-mate, the one they had chosen to be with me always. I needed him here to protect me…
"Ge—"
"X6-735?" A voice intruded out of the darkness. Out of my memory, where each individual voice I'd ever heard was stored, I conjured a name.
"Yes, Ma'am!?" I leapt to my feet, immediately attentive, my fear dispelled by her commanding presence. I hadn't even heard her approach, so great was my terror.
"What were you just calling, soldier?"
"A name, Director Renfro, Ma'am!"
"Whose name, 735?"
"Eve's name, ma'am!"
"Who is Eve?" Renfro responded, obviously agitated. Immediately, I strove to correct myself.
"X6-866, Director Renfro, Ma'am!"
"We are going to have a discussion, X6-735."
I looked down at my feet, clearly visible even in the complete darkness, "I understand, Ma'am."
"I can't hear you." She said sharply.
"I UNDERSTAND, MA'AM!"
"Fine. Back to the compound, immediately. You've been compromised. This was a very sorry performance."
Head down, the distant smell of wolvesbane burning in my nostrils, I ran silently back to the barracks, beating her Jeep by two minutes and fifteen seconds, tears dry.
How we had gotten scolded for that…
But that was their first mistake. If they had been kind, and allowed us to keep our names, the names that represented something about Manticore, they would have won. We would have adored them for that. But they could never understand control that was not absolute, and that would be their downfall.
Chapter 1, Part II: Rank
I sat in the office, resisting the desire to smooth my newly pressed pants under my palms one more time.
I was always nervous about Renfro, unlike the guards and technicians and military personnel that clogged Manticore, she always insisted on appearing… nice. In this setting, it was garishly fake; a terrible, stupid lie. Under her perfect makeup, and cloying smile was a great capacity for cruelty.
I understood that, but she was my superior, and if she had the slightest indication of what I really thought, I was done for.
As a result of my paranoia, I strived to remain in her good graces, and was rewarded my status as Renfro's favorite. It was useful, but it made me skittish, even with how easily I lied.
I heard her footsteps as she rounded the corner, into the corridor, so I was on my feet, facing the door and at attention, when she walked in.
"X6-735, you're a sight for sore eyes." She smiled at me as I saluted, but the emotion fell short of her eyes.
I made a pretense of frowning slightly, "If I understood what context you were using that phrase in, Ma'am, I would say thank-you. Anything that I can help with?"
Renfro smiled gently as she sat down, looking tired and resentful, "Not anymore. I could have used you four hours ago, though."
Ahh… The situation with X5-599 and X5-452 in the infirmary--that was regrettable. But either way, only one of them would have survived. Good for me, two would have been a bit much to handle.
"Why?" I asked politely, feigning ignorance.
She had been in the process of raising her hands to her temples, but at the sound of my voice, the motion ceased, and she looked through her splayed fingers to gaze at me.
"Your first assignment came in this evening." She told me, smiling ruefully, "Actually, this morning, I believe." Turning, she picked up a remote on her desk and aimed it at the wall screen.
After pressing a series of buttons, a screen appeared with the Manticore logo—a stylized Chimera on top of an "M"—and it announced, "Voice identification necessary."
She spared me a cursory glance, then continued, "Agent Renfro, code: chickadee."
The screen blanked for only an instant before showing a menu, "Infirmary." She informed the wall, "0347 hours."
The tape of this mornings' events began to play and, though I knew the entire tableau by heart, I leaned forward in my seat and strained to see the details, the way the blond-haired boy leaned over her, the way his body slumped, the medics rushing to transplant his heart—
"1107 hours."
Bu-bump…
I watched, entranced, reading everything about the girl's posture, her gestures, her face. Saw the way she deflated after Renfro left the room, heard every word she said, noted the inflection, the tears not yet dried on her pillow as she drifted off to sleep.
"She'll be a challenge." I declared, smiling widely, "Good training."
Renfro offered me a patronizing smirk, "You think so?"
"Ma'am," I inclined my head in her direction, still smiling, "I know so." I could smell blood. I had an assignment… and it was magnificent.
Straightening, Renfro returned to being all business, "Are you sure you're ready? After the… affair with X6-736?"
I smarted at the choice of words, and I gave her the pleasure of seeing my dismay, "Affair?" I snarled, pouring as much disdain into my voice as I could, "736 is—was—an abomination. I have come to realize—no, I always knew that it didn't belong here. And if 736 wanted to spare us the trial of its presence by leaving, well, then, by all means--" I stopped, looking as if I were uncomfortably aware of my outburst. I made a show of collecting myself, "I would rather, of course, have my first assignment in reprogramming 736. I still look forward to it." I declared heatedly, "But this one—452—looks to be a delightful challenge." I shifted my position so my perfect posture looked even more rigid and military, "It would be an honor to do this for you as my first assignment."
A smile spread across her face, a genuine smile, and those smiles were more frightening then any other kind, "In that case—I assume you've been briefed this morning on the '09 escape?"
Again, I frowned, "Yes, Ma'am."
She studied my face, and I immediately composed myself, "You look troubled, 735, what is the matter?"
"I just—I simply don't understand it, that's all, Ma'am."
"That's alright. We don't expect you to understand the nature of these events. The people, on the other hand…" She trailed off deliberately.
I grinned earnestly, "I've gone through their files—they had an excellent psych team, fantastic observation skills, all of them—exceptional organization, every bit of it. I've got practically everything I need."
Renfro grinned with delight, "Then why delay further? This is what you've spent your life preparing for. The subject should be awake in about fifteen minutes. Tell Wesson whatever you need, within reason, and it's yours. I'm expecting a debrief from you at 2100 hours, detailing your schedule, however loose it might be, and desired implements. X5-452 will need to be under medical observation for another week, and then—" Renfro made a gesture, "All yours."
My eyes lit up as I stood, "Thank-you, Ma'am." I saluted crisply, and turned on my heel with an audible click.
I won't let you down…
Chapter 1, Part III: Serial Number
This is a streaming freedom video bulletin.
Max's eyes darted anxiously around the room, after countless attempts, it was obvious that none of the medical personnel would listen to her—or even acknowledge her presence—her stitches itched, and every single moment that crept by made her more and apprehensive.
It cannot be traced.
One of the medics leaned over a table of chemicals that he was measuring out. Max had tried to make sport of startling him and making him drop his work, but her voice couldn't make any sounds much louder then hoarse whisper, so it wasn't much sport. She gave up when it became obvious he was oblivious.
It cannot be stopped.
Every single detail of the room had been memorized, every single possible escape route planned and memorized. She had moved onto what she was going to do to that blond whore—the one who'd been patronizing her--when she got her hands on the bitch. That had been the woman who'd killed Tinga—she'd managed to realize this when she'd woken up the second time with a clear head.
It is the only free voice left in this city.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a girl walked in.
Not just any girl, but a teenager so impossibly beautiful that the physical appearance of her made Max forget herself for a few minutes—a nearly impossible feat, given the circumstances. Her eyes were an improbable shade of gray next to her darkly tanned skin, and they were fixed on Max.
Immediately, Max tried to shrink away, cursing herself as she did so, "What did they put in my system," she thought, "That is making me feel so—"
"Good morning, Max." The girl dragged the stool next to the heart monitor over near the bed and sat down on it.
There is a monstrous evil on the loose in Gilette, Wyoming.
Max forced her screaming muscles to relax, and remained silent, staring impassively at this newcomers face, trying not to be overjoyed at the prospect of someone acknowledging her existence.
Funded by the American government, a military outpost known as "Manticore" has been creating and breeding a new species of superhuman for over two decades now.
"It's alright to tell me 'hello,' Max, I'm not your enemy here." The girl smiled, displaying rows of perfect white teeth. Max searched for an imperfection, any flaw she could, to hold onto, to defend herself against the onslaught of her physical presence, but could find nothing.
"What's your name?" Max asked, visibly hostile.
The girl only smiled, "I'm X6-735."
They have been dealt a crushing blow, but only through…
She stuck out her hand, as if to shake, but her eyes darted back down to the restraints, "Uh…" She smiled, "Heh." She put her hand back in her lap. Immediately, Max was suspicious.
"They gave us perfect memory, the vision of an eagle and the metal capacities of the world's finest. No way in hell sister cover-girl over here misses the fact that I'm tied up like a mental patient. What's she trying to pull?" Max mused, eyes narrowed.
Only through—a devastating sacrifice.
X6-735 noticed that a life outside Manticore was not beneficial at all to reinforcing training—though that wasn't exactly counterintuitive—subject 452/'Max Guevara' didn't even try to conceal her disdain.
"Dammit." X6-735 thought, "Give me something to work with, at least…"
They must be stopped.
"How are you feeling?" X6-735 asked politely.
Max glared up at her, "Pinhead." She declared, "How the fuck do you think I'm feeling?" she hissed, "You ass-wipes killed my brother, took me back to the one place I would rather die then remain in, force me to live—I have more complaints, but I'm not giving you any more fodder." Max tugged against one of her restraints, the binding made a hollow sound against the bars of the bed, "So I ask you again, how the fuck do you think I'm feeling?" Her chest ached and she was having a little trouble breathing, but it felt good to rant. It would have felt nicer if she'd been able to scream, but that wasn't going to be a possibility for a good, long time. It felt even better to know that, in the midst of her ranting, she'd kept enough control to keep information away from "X6-735."
Information the little bitch wouldn't have already known, anyway…
This is a plea to the government to protect the people it has long abandoned and shelter them from terrifying experiments such as these, which have held captive and tormented—or, as they would call it, "trained"—groups of young children.
X6-735 smiled gently, "You don't like me very much, do you?"
Max fixed her with her most menacing glare, "And what the hell would give you that idea?"
The girl's smile grew wider, "Call it woman's intuition."
Max looked away.
The girl stood, "You'll come to see my point of view."
The time has come to end it all.
X6-735 turned to leave. Panic bubbled and seethed inside Max, "No! Don't leave me alone! Just…" She pleaded silently, "Damn—no. I won't. I refuse to do this. Go ahead. Leave. I'll…"
X6-735 paused by the door and raised her hand in a gesture of farewell. Max said nothing, only remained mute and watched, a thousand voices in her head screaming conflicting thoughts at her. "Stop her! Stop her! …get out of bed, c'mon, break that damn—"
The door shut gently.
"Logan."
The word bounced around in her head until it became meaningless.
Then it bounced around some more and became another word: "Alone."
By herself, Max began to cry.
This has been a streaming freedom video from the Eyes Only informant net. … Out.