Chapter Fifteen: Introductions

Slowly Logan looked around the room watching as the group slowly came to life around him. He turned around abruptly and headed back the way that he had come in. He reached the doors grabbing the handle and yanking on the door, finding quickly that he was locked in. Somehow he had expected that, but it did nothing to ease the frustration at finding himself in a different cage. He backed up a step and firmly kicked the door trying to unseat it from it's hinges, only it didn't budge sending a wave of pain up his exercise sore leg, "Damn it," He swore. Behind him he heard the low twitter of laughter at his attempt as if he should have realized they would do such a thing. His eyes moved restlessly over the metal reinforced entrance and then to the small narrow windows high up the walls all the way around the room. He backed up looking for a possible way up and over, a vent anything that would get him free of this place.

"Give it up man," He heard come from behind him, "There is no way out once they lock you in."

He felt someone approaching him and spun quickly back to face the crowd immediately their center of attention whether he wanted to be or not. The older one, one of the women intercepted him. He looked into her expectant face, and had to suppress his shocked reaction. Luckily over the years he had seen some pretty strange things in Max's company, so it was easier than if he had come into it blind.

Her face was long, extremely so, her eyes were sunken, and slanted. Her corneas were a bright shade of green, and her pupils were mere slits in the emerald green pools. Her nose was broad, textured, and gray, and her jaw jutted out ever so slightly. Her upper lip was cleft and he could see the very sharp feline teeth poorly hidden by it. Her chin sported a small tuft of gray fur. And now that he got a closer look he could see that her head was crowned with downy fur that blended into her nearly silver hair. She was tall, lean and graceful in her walk. He had to reassess her age though, she was not as old as he was, in fact she might have been younger than Max. The silver of her hair had thrown him a curve on that one. He quickly discovered that she was the most out going of those gathering around her and either had been elected or had volunteered to be their spokesperson.

She sniffed at him a moment, "You don't look special, nor do you smell special. You smell as if they have held you too long without bathing," she said with a slight lisp, waving a hand in front of her obviously sensitive nose. Logan suddenly felt self-conscious about what he was unable to control, "Why are you here, Caa-le?" her slit eyes intent on his own blue ones.

Logan looked down and ducked away from her gravitating toward the racks, he found one about midway down the right row that was unoccupied and moved to seat himself on it. The cat woman did not take the hint moving back near him. She stared at him intently, "Will you not do us, your unit mates, the courtesy of speaking to us?"

Logan looked back up into her face, "I have nothing to say to you," He whispered simply, looking away again and feeling uneasy. His radar gave him no signal of warning, no sign of danger from any of the people now loosely circled around him, but that did not exclude any kind of mechanical device on any one of their persons. Mechanicals, he had realized about two weeks after the rescue of Max from the base in Washington, were invisible to his extrasensory danger sense. That had been why he had been unable to pick up the trap that Manticore had set for the team when they had gone in to get Max out of the local Manticore base.

"So?" One of the younger men said crossing his arms and looking at Logan, "Bryn don't drop just anybody off with us. You have to be different or else you wouldn't be here."

"And just what qualifies you?" Logan quipped at the young man, who promptly shut up. He was young mid teens if Logan wasn't too far off his guess. He looked every bit the rebellious sort. He was shorter by maybe half a head, he was more of a medium build, but showed some promise for filling out later in life. His hair was brown with just a hint of red in it. His face had an Asian influence to it but was not nearly so round as the faces he had seen in Tima, Tinga and Bryn. It was more sharply featured with a strong nose and sharper cheekbones. His eyes were nearly as dark as his hair. He looked every bit a normal kid. If what he said was true there was a reason for him being here as well, and perhaps that was the reason for his own bad attitude

"Don' mind him," The cat woman lisped, "He is always bitter. My name is Shawnee, Shawnee Cross." She extended a hand, which Logan took. He noticed that her hands were soft with the same kind of down that framed her feline face, and her nails were slightly hooked.

Logan's innate curiosity got the better of him as he asked her, "Are you…Manticore?"

She smiled broadly at his question, "Oh so you know something of your captors?"

"More than I care to," Logan admitted nodding.

"No," she said smiling again, "I am from…another transgenic program…Russian actually, they had no fancy name for it, they just referred to it as Government Project 4509. I was traded to Manticore when they were on friendlier terms, back when I was about four, about 1998 I think. Russia led the way in genetic research at the time, having no ethical conscience when it came to experimentation on humans. As oddly the west seemed to possess," she frowned then, "I was one of their base units for the current groups, X-4 up to X-10, they used my genetic markers as a framework for the abilities those groups possess. Now the groups are self sufficient, but they keep me here for an occasional re-base of the genetic material. You know for when the genome wanders too far away from the blueprint." Logan nodded slowly and she glanced away from him pointing to the other woman who if Logan had to guess looked to be about twenty, "That is Mouse," the girl smiled broadly at him and signed something he recognized as American Sign Language. Unfortunately he knew none, but Shawnee kindly translated for him, "She says she is pleased to meet you." Logan looked at her for explanation, "She was born mute."

She then laid a hand on the shoulder of one of the youngest men, "This is Thomas, and behind him is Coo-tton. That is Hawker, and you have already met Caa-ge."

"None of you are Manticore?" Logan said not quite able to grasp that concept. All but Cage shook their head in the negative, "Then what are you doing here?"

"WE are here because we all possess something that these Manticore geeks want to see in their Frankensoldiers." Cage cut into the conversation again from behind the group. His tone was loud and it was angry, and Logan wondered just what had him tied up in such a knot, other than being in this cage. Cage pointed to each of his compatriots as he said, "Her feline DNA, Mouse's ability to fight off any disease, Hawker's ability to talk to animals, Cotton's extraordinary strength, Thomas's telepathy, and you, whatever ability it is they see in you. They suck up us freaks and cage us and then they want to extract it, study it, and then splice it into their 'perfect soldiers'," He raised his hands at his side saying sardonically, "Welcome to life as a guinea pig, Cale."

Logan did not miss the fact that Cage did not mention his reason for being here as the young man stormed back to his rack and flung himself upon it staring angrily at the ceiling. Logan's lips were tightly pressed together as he looked at the young man. In a lot of ways he saw himself in that boy. Slowly he shook his head and looked back up at Shawnee who was still in the same place and still staring at him.

"What?" Logan said wondering why her attention was still on him.

"You have not answered my question, Caa-le," She said drawing out his name again in that odd way.

Logan stood abruptly looking up into Shawnee's face again, "Look no offense, but I really would rather not talk about it right now."

She blinked slowly and shrugged, "Suit yourself, Caa-le, we have a lot of time to get the secret out of you."

Logan smiled slightly annoyed and turned back to his rack, intent on finding some toiletries and making use of the shower. He did not turn back to face Shawnee who still stood behind him, he could feel her in his radar. Opening the footlocker they had provided he found what he was looking for, almost as if they knew that he would choose this rack. He found several sets of uniforms the same size as those he was wearing and an additional set of running clothes, plus socks and underwear, not the kind he was used to wearing, but they would have to do. He pulled out the running clothes, packed them in a small cloth bag he found in the locker along with the soap and rag to wash with. He then stood brushing past Shawnee and her less than tactful curiosity and headed for the bathroom.

He stepped into the plainly tiled bathroom and stopped looking around for the showers, he found them off to his left and turned that way, opening the door and he froze again, "No way," Logan said out loud, and it echoed back at him from the empty space before him. He stood now in what constituted a changing area, black matting was on the floor to keep feet dry and the wall was lined with six hooks, he was peering now between the concrete walls that supported one shower rod with a clear curtain across the front. In the middle of the tan tiled space beyond the changing area stood two small pillars about four foot apart from each other each with four shower heads 90 degrees from each other. He turned back to look at the door for some sort of lock, there was none. That provided him with one hell of a dilemma, especially since there were two women present in this unit, community showers were going to be out of the question…Max seeing him was one thing, but not strangers and definitely not strange women.

As quickly as he could, Logan showered, dried off and dressed fearing any moment that Mouse or Shawnee was going to walk in as see him in his Birthday suit. He sighed his relief as he pulled the shorts on, but was upset because he had been looking forward to a long hot shower to wash off the nearly two months worth of gunk they had allowed to build up on him.

He stepped back into the main area noticing that most of his fellow occupants had returned to their own pastimes. He looked over at Cage who was still staring at the ceiling, and the want to talk to the boy was strong in him. But it definitely did not seem the right time to broach his angry silence.

Shawnee moved back over again, looking at him with a quirking smile on her face. She must have seen his worried look as he had stepped out of the bathroom for she said, "The girls take first dibs, we are faster, because we are fewer, then the men have their time. We still manage to get done before we muster for breakfast. Don't look so put out, Caa-le, we do not all shower at once!" She finished with a hearty laugh and then turned and walked away, "Oh and reveille is at 0500."

Logan laid his things over on his rack and then gravitated toward the small lounge area toward the door of the barracks, where Shawnee had gone with a pad of paper and a pencil, "So just what is it we do?"

"At the moment not a lot of anything… we exercise, we eat, we sleep, and we go to the lab as needed for their experiments. We sometimes do work details in the galley, cleaning dishes and the like, but not often."

"Ok we're glamorized janitors," Logan said sarcastically, certainly not expecting that response, slowly sat down next to her, "You certainly seem OK with the idea of being poked and prodded constantly."

Her eyes were suddenly on him her slit pupils narrowing to almost nothing in her bright green eyes, "And what else would I do?" She asked sharply.

"Live a life?" Logan suggested.

Shawnee laughed wholeheartedly gaining everyone's attention in the room. Logan saw her pupils widen to near black moons with her mirth and felt his cheeks turn red at her response, "Of all the people in this room I am the least likely to be able to 'live a life' as you suggest. I have no delusions about the fact that my looks make me an outcast, even here among the Transgenics. I have known no other life, I have no desire to know another life. I am well treated here; they do not abuse me."

"I'm afraid I can't agree with that assessment," Logan replied with a shake of his head.

"And that is because you have lived your years on the outside as a 'free man', do not think that I have not heard this story before. Caa-ge was right about one thing, Manticore has abducted more than their share of misfits, and I have heard stories both happy and sad about lives that have come and gone from this very barracks. I am the constant here it seems."

"What happened to the others?" Logan asked getting a sinking feeling.

"Most die…from the experiments, from their own special traits or from trying to escape," She finished pointedly, "Do not try to run from here Caa-le," Logan looked up sharply at her, "You cannot hide it, I can see it in your eyes. But I warn you, I have seen more times than I care to mention what happens to those caught trying to escape here. The executions are public, and they are gruesome."

Logan looked down, nodding once sharply. He then looked over at the still fuming Cage and then back at Shawnee, "So what is the story with Cage?"

Her gaze moved over to the young man, "He…is another that wants to keep his secret, and I have been unable to while the story out of him, no matter how charming I am."

She looked back at him and they both smiled, "He has only been here about four months, when Bryn had brought him here he was in bad shape. Bryn is not kind when it comes to captures."

Logan looked down again nodding slowly, "That much I know."

She tilted her head again looking at him, the question clear to read on her face, "You do not look to be in bad shape."

"Not me," Logan said softly, "Someone else…a friend," He whispered trailing off catching himself before he explained the whole thing to Shawnee. Abruptly he stood up and left the table, feeling an overwhelming desire to be alone.

This time Shawnee did not follow him and feeling cold and even more alone then he had previously he curled up on top of his rack, covering in the scant wool blanket that they had provided him. He could not have said why, but he fell shortly into a deep sleep.

Torri stood at the window of her newest office watching the sun set behind the rugged mountains surrounding the base. She stood at a stiff parade rest watching the nearly lifeless track come alive as the temperatures went down. The days were too hot here, and even the Cadre Rojas, acclimatized to this oven like weather did not operate from noon to three in the afternoon. Bryn would not waste their talent by seeing them overcome by heat stroke.

The Cadre Rojas was the equivalent to the officer's mess, it had its prestige and it had its privileges. The entire Cadre was Manticore Transgenics, and all of them were charged with their own unit or platoon depending on what class they had "graduated" from, the less the number the more responsibility was placed on your shoulders as Bryn had explained it to her. Bryn was in charge of the base and of the Cadre because she was X-5 and the oldest one deployed on the base. She was backed by another X-5 who was one year her junior and her executive officer. There were about four X-6's, eight X-7's, and thirteen of her fellow X-8's. She had been happy to see them, not knowing what had happened to most of them when Manticore had deemed them suitable for deployment and separated the group. They seemed different from what she remembered though, more reserved, grim and single minded. Most did not seem to recognize her, or if they did they had acted as if they were above her somehow. She thought that odd, Manticore did not forget the people they came up in the ranks with, it was impossible. They were taught to be a team by months upon months of team builder training, learning to rely heavily on one another even as you were taught to think independently and make good decisions to eventually become a leader. She had been taken aback by their reaction. And her thoughts returned to Bryn on that note, sure that she had something if not everything to do with the drastic changes she saw in her comrades, but unable to prove her theory.

The Cadre Rojas were given the best of the best, all of them, each had a one man room. That room contained a double bed with two pillows a dresser larger than anything that she had previously been allotted. She had not nearly the amount of clothing it would require to fill it. The most staggering thing she had seen was that the room had it's own bathroom. Never in her life had she showered by herself, there had always been whatever unit she had been assigned to sharing the limited shower time. Add to that the fact that she did nothing to care for that room, nothing. There was a staff of maids and janitors on duty full time to keep up after the Cadre.

Another privilege was the separate messing hall for the Cadre, with nice furniture and even better food. If she was not careful she was going to turn into a fat balloon. Never had she been exposed to such luxury, and she found herself completely at odds with the manner in which she was now living, it almost felt like a dream, only she had never really known this kind of luxury existed and therefore she wouldn't know to dream about it. This was some kind of twisted reality.

The base also housed several hundred regular troops, loyal followers of Manticore, and the people the Cadre were charged with leading into any war. The people that Bryn hoped, with the help of this Cale's unique DNA change, to turn into cheap easily attainable supersoldiers by just transfusing them with Manticore blood. Part of Torri wanted to see that succeed and another part of her, the part that saw their talent and ability as a divine gift, did not want to sully the Manticore name by making half-assed possibly defective soldiers from Norms.

She loathed saying it out loud but she missed Washington and she missed her old commander. She wondered why, yet again, Bryn had requested her transferred to this dry well of a base. The worst came to mind right off the bat, that Bryn was punishing her for being so invaluable to Lydecker for so many years. Torri saw the jealousy under the older woman's smiling face. Almost as if Lydecker had cast her out at some point deeming Bryn unworthy of continuing to work with him, and now she was getting some sort of bent revenge on her for taking that spot away.

But in some twisted way Bryn seemed sincere about her appreciation of Torri's leadership ability and her ability to get the job done. The past few weeks Bryn had been "Taking her under her wing" so to speak showing her how business was run, and what exactly happened on the base.

This base served as the staging grounds for nearly fifty different surveillance operations as well as covert attacks on targets all over the western United States. As it turned out this was the premier testing facility for Manticore using Norms that showed usable genetic anomalies to strengthen the Manticore DNA banks and create new and more viable specimens in different environments. The unit that Bryn had just assigned her in fact was the most recent group of raw genetic material for the Laboratory to process to see what they could use in the next generation of Manticore Transgenics.

Torri moved back over to the desk remembering her conversation from that morning regarding her new and highly unusual assignment. She looked down at their records grimacing, she had a group of varying ages and backgrounds, none of which were military, and Bryn had given her strict orders to keep them in shape and teach them how to fight. These despite her own protest about none of them being what she would deem soldier material. Bryn had just reiterated her order and told her it was with good reason. Torri had taken the hint and promised to do her utmost to see that the orders were carried out, but she honestly wondered if Bryn understood the task that she had handed Torri. She also wondered if Bryn would give her the necessary time to carry out the task…some how she doubted it.