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.
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Author's Note: Last chapter… at least until the increasingly likely sequel.
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XIII – Explanations and Preparations"They took it better than I thought they would," Max muttered weakly, keeping her eyes directed toward the floor, purposely avoiding everyone's gaze. The people in the storeroom with her – Logan, Alec, Joshua, Syl, Cindy, and Ashley – had all known about Max's departure before she left, but that didn't make Max feel any less duplicitous at the moment. She had hated leaving, not only because she was obviously abandoning her responsibilities, but because she'd used Ashley to deceive her own people. She had lied, and had expected everyone to hate her for that. But they didn't, she marveled. Then again, I guess it makes sense, she decided. Everyone in Terminal City had escaped from Manticore only months earlier, having been raised to accept that people in decision-making positions didn't always let their underlings know everything that was going on. Transgenics lived in a world where everything operated on a need-to-know basis, and they all accepted that when Max had left, they didn't need to know. It was a tactical decision, and was clearly not personal. And besides, I did come back.
"So, you gonna tell us or what?" Alec finally asked, bringing them all back to the topic that Max had dreaded since she had finished her conversation with Set. She'd put them off as best she could, first forcing them to return to Terminal City to make sure everything was all right, and then insisting that she tell the other transgenics that she'd left without letting them know, but that she was now back to stay. And maybe I hoped one of them would kill me for my deceit, she pondered silently. For whatever good that would do them, anyway. I've been all but dead twice now, only to find that my entrance to Heaven is a revolving door instead of a gate. She tried to chase that thought away, only to find that it had apparently taken on a life of its own, and wouldn't leave until it was done haunting her. What's more messianic than dying for the cause? she remembered thinking just before she lost consciousness back at Megiddo. There's one thing, she silently decided. Coming back from the dead… yep, it doesn't get much more messianic than that.
"Fine," Max finally said, accepting that she had to tell her inner circle everything… or at least as much as she herself knew, no matter how much she hated even thinking about it. And why are you so weird about this, anyway? she asked herself. It isn't your fault or anything. This is what some crazy old geneticist did to you.
"All I know is what Set told me," Max began hesitantly, "and all he knew is what Lydecker told him. Seems the colonel didn't exactly have a lot of confidence in coming back from Megiddo, so he made some contingency plans and spread around his information." For the briefest of moments Max thought she saw a flicker of something – understanding? paranoia? satisfaction? – pass across Logan's face, but it vanished before she could even be certain it had been there at all. Being around transgenics has made him very good at hiding his thoughts, she noted.
"And of course, Lydecker only knew as much as he'd been able to uncover on his own," Logan added.
"Yeah," Max confirmed. "Well, I guess the best place to start is with the obvious – I'm apparently not an X5."
"What?" Alec asked in surprise. "Of course you are."
"No, I'm not," Max retorted. "The X5's are the fifth model in the X-series; they have the same set of non-human genetic enhancements, all the same strengths and weaknesses. For the most part, I share in those modifications because they were the best that the Manticore program had to offer at the time I was put together. But like you know, I also have no junk DNA. X5's, as loaded up as they are with extra genetic information, don't develop rune-shaped pigmentation under their skin. They also don't naturally produce an antigen to the Familiars' plague.
"I was created and implanted in a surrogate mother at the same time as the X5's, but I'm not one of them. Lydecker's information led him to conclude that I'm the prototype for what Sandeman referred to as the Omega-series. Seems there were supposed to be a lot of me running around, each one producing the antigen, making it all but impossible for the Familiars to initiate The Coming."
"Not that it mattered in the end, anyway, since Lydecker figured it all out in time," Logan commented.
"As far as we can tell," Alec responded. "All we know for certain is that we stopped them at Megiddo, and that the Israelis have almost certainly secured the area. If any Israeli soldiers went inside and died, the government probably just blew up the entire underground complex. But just because the Familiars can't release the plague there doesn't mean they can't go somewhere else."
"I know," Max muttered, "and that's the one thought that's been worrying me ever since I woke up. I think it's the thought that kept worrying Sandeman, too, because my ability to regenerate my blood – and the antigen in it – is far beyond the rest of the X5's."
"Yeah, we all noticed that," Alec commented. "So what's the deal with that, anyway?"
"Well, Set told me that the gunshot wound sent me into torpor," Max said, returning to the uncomfortable task of telling her friends just what she was.
"Like hibernation?" Logan asked.
"Sort of, I guess," Max answered. "Torpor is the generic word for a slowing of physical processes in response to some set of stimuli. If torpor sets in because of decreased daylight and colder temperatures, it's called hibernation. If it sets in to avoid scarce water supplies, like some amphibians and reptiles do in a desert's dry season, the process is called estivation. For me, it seems that the stimulus is my body going into shock. By going into shock, my body is already starting to shut down; my genetic encoding simply takes the process a few steps farther, slowing my metabolism to about a hundredth of its usual rate. Some information Lydecker recovered indicated that the thinking behind this is that if I'm injured, my body should stay alive, at least barely, until the physical damage is repaired and I'm brought out of torpor through the addition of fresh transgenic blood and all the wonderful stem cells in it."
"And that's what Set did," Logan guessed. "That's why he was in the back for so long… he was putting you back together."
"Yeah," Max confirmed. "Then he transfused as much of his blood into me as he could. In fact, he probably gave me a little too much – he almost died, himself."
"Then he should have told me what he was doing," Alec interjected. "I would have been happy to donate some blood for the cause."
"But you were flying the plane," Max pointed out. "We couldn't take the chance that you'd give too much blood and black out while we were thirty-thousand feet up."
"Set could have flown it in an emergency," Alec retorted.
"Unless he blacked out, too," Logan said. "If I were the only one left conscious, we'd be dead."
"Fine," Alec said evenly, sitting back and taking his eyes off of Max. She wondered why he seemed so offended at not having been included, why he appeared to take it all so personally. Even Logan is pretty much cool with Set having kept it all a secret, and he and I… Max shook her head, wondering if she was more disturbed by the thought of what she and Logan shared, or what she was suddenly fearing that Alec might feel.
"So just how much damage can your body sustain before dying?" Logan asked.
"The same as most anyone else," Max answered. "It'll just take longer." She thought of a simple way to put it, so that Logan and Cindy would be able to follow along easily. "It's like pressing the slow-motion button on a video," she explained. "Imagine there's a scene where someone gets shot in the heart, like I did. Most people get from the wound to death at a certain rate. My body goes into torpor, so I get there more slowly, but the end result is the same. It's not like I'm healing at my normal rate while everything else is shut down – it just doesn't work that way. My body still requires medical assistance in serious circumstances; I'm simply designed to prolong the inevitable."
"So, like you said, there's more time for someone to treat you," Cindy concluded.
"Exactly."
"Then why not put you together before we left?" Logan asked. "It seems like time was of the essence. Why wait until we were airborne?"
"Because Set had his orders," Max answered, not bothering to hide her disgust at Set's rigid adherence to the directives of someone who was dead by that time. "If he had just been completely straightforward everything would have been easier. He could have treated my wounds and transfused some blood from him and Alec, and we would have been all right within twelve hours. But Lydecker had ordered him to get me back to Seattle as quickly as possible, to help prevent the situation here from getting out of control. I guess Deck figured I'd hold on long enough if I had to, just like I would have back at Gillette after I was recaptured a year ago. Stupid doctors thought I was dying on the table, but I was just going into torpor then, too. They were probably actually hurting me by trying to revive me; they weren't letting my body shut down like it was designed to. That's why Set made everybody think that I was dead – so that you wouldn't try to revive me."
"He should've said something," Alec growled. "We would have understood."
Sure you would have, Max thought silently, finally willing to admit that she saw some kind of affection that went beyond friendship in Alec's eyes. She ignored it, however. This was neither the time nor the place for personal concerns. "Maybe you would have understood, but you still would have gone about trying to treat me," Max countered. "Set had his orders. I personally don't agree with his actions, but I understand them. The goal was to stop The Coming and then get back here as quickly as possible, so that we could deal with the threat from the ordinaries once we had faced the Familiars. As it turned out, we made it back sooner than expected. If you had waited until I was treated, we'd still be in Israel right now. That would be unacceptable."
"Fine," Alec muttered, apparently unwilling to debate the matter any further.
"So what do we do now?" Cindy asked. "I guess the Familiars are out of the picture for the time bein', but we're still surrounded by a butt-ton of National Guard troops. If they come in here, Boo…"
"I know," Max assured her. "I think I have a plan; it's just gonna take some time. I'm gonna make another speech, I guess, and then Ashley's gonna get Logan out to do the Eyes Only thing. We still need public opinion on our side to make this work, and that sure ain't gonna happen as long as we're cooped up in here, stayin' completely silent." Max was surprised to find herself sad to see her clone go, but Ashley had done her part. She still had a normal life to return to, and a family to take care of. She had already done more than Max had ever hoped.
"And then what?" Alec asked. "You think they're just gonna let us leave here, to go on our merry way?"
"That's exactly what I think," Max assured him. "We just have to find a way to make it worthwhile for someone in power to take that step, to give us a fair shake."
"Fine," Alec grumbled, though he was obviously dubious about their chances for success. Max thought she could almost see Alec mentally designing the tombstone he figured he'd need within the next few days.
"And what about White?" Joshua asked. "He killed Annie, Max. I won't let him go." For the first time, Max saw in Joshua's eyes a burning rage that frightened her. When she had left for Israel, she'd noticed how much her friend had increased his confidence. Now he appeared willing to demand a place for his own agenda in the grand scheme. I'll have to tread lightly, she knew. She couldn't allow him to simply kill anyone, no matter how heinous that individual's crimes might be. But she also wanted White's head on a platter, herself.
"We'll deal with White," Max promised. "Help me take care of everyone else, and I promise I'll go to the ends of the Earth with you if that what it takes to get justice." Joshua smiled in satisfaction, though his eyes still glowed with a fierce intensity.
"I'll help you, too, big fella," Alec suddenly promised, drawing a surprised stare from Logan. Max knew what Logan was thinking – he was surprised that Alec displayed an interest in helping anyone other than himself. And if we can get Alec to be a team player, we can do anything, Max told herself. This just might work out, after all.
XIV – Epilogue
Logan stood passively, soaking in the scene as 'Max' once again took the makeshift stage before her people. This time, however, it was truly her. Ashley, overjoyed to be free of the burden of leadership, had joined the ranks of her people, noticeably the only one distinctly disinterested in what her clone was saying.
"I know all of you are scared," Max stated, her voice holding far more strength than the rest of her body appeared to. Logan knew that Max was still badly injured and needed time to heal. Time was not a luxury that any of them had, though. "We've been barricaded in here for over a week, now," she continued, "and we may be in here for far longer. I know many of you are wondering why we're doing this, what we hope to accomplish, or even whether you would have a chance of slipping out of here as I did, though you aren't planning on coming back later. We're staying here because this is the best chance we will ever have to bring our case before humanity. A majority of the surviving transgenics are here, and we pose a definite risk to our nation's security – the government has no choice but to deal with us right now.
"We're all soldiers, and as soldiers we know that there's strength in numbers and in unity of purpose. Now we'll demonstrate this fact to the ordinaries, and we'll let them know our purpose. It's simple, really – we want to live in peace. That's really not too much to ask. We want to be free to leave here if we want, or stay if that's what we prefer. I know we won't fail – it's our destiny."
"Damn right," a newly arrived transgenic muttered, drawing a smile from Logan. He had to admit that he was very impressed with Max's rapidly developing ability to work a room.
Logan found himself entranced by Max's words, swept off his feet by a charisma he had never seen in her before. So often she had sought privacy and freedom from responsibility, but now, here, he saw Max in a new light. She had truly developed into a leader and a visionary. If anyone will ever lead the transgenics to peace, it'll be her, he knew. And if it's at all possible to do it peacefully, she'll find a way. He was suddenly knocked out of his reverie by the vibration of his cell phone. Taking another few steps to his right, seeking the concealing shroud of a nearby shadow and hoping he wouldn't disrupt Max's speech, Logan answered the call even as he tried to figure out who it could be. "Hello?" he asked uncertainly.
"Kilroy?" a young voice asked. "I was told that at this number I would be able to reach someone called Kilroy. It's my understanding that your true identity is to remain classified."
"Umm… okay," Logan replied hesitantly. "Who's this?"
"You can call me Mercutio," the young boy said. "I'm the head of TRC-913 Gamma Orion. Colonel Lydecker's death has been confirmed, and I'm following established protocol and checking in."
"Excuse me?" Logan asked awkwardly. "You're the head of what?"
"TRC-913 Gamma Orion," Mercutio repeated. "You know, Transgenic Resistance Cell designation 9-1-3 Gamma Orion," he explained. "I was under the impression that the colonel had given you a certain piece of microfilm."
"Ah yes, that," Logan said, finally understanding. He remembered Lydecker's words, "There's lots of fighting to go, and in the end the ordinaries will have to deal with the fact that one of their own is leading the Manticore transgenics." Logan knew it was true. If there was to be an organized resistance, it would have to be headed by an ordinary. But do I want to be the ordinary that runs it? he asked himself, his mind racing along even as he wondered if he was taking too long to say anything else to his mysterious caller. It has to be me, he suddenly decided in a moment of clarity, feeling a sense of the rightness of the situation pass over him. He remembered the dream on the plane, when he had already dealt with this situation and made this decision. It was my subconscious telling me something, he knew. This is what I was meant to be. There's no sense in running. "So what do we do from here?" Logan asked uncertainly.
"I wasn't told whether or not your base of operations has been established," Mercutio said. "Once you're up and running, contact me. All of the necessary contact information should be on the microfilm."
"Okay," Logan said. "I'll be in touch." He folded up his phone and put it in his pocket, turning back to Max as she was finishing her speech. Kilroy? he thought with amusement. Yeah, I don't know much about Lydecker, but it seemed like he had some kind of witty sense of humor like that.
"So that's the plan," Max said, her voice rising in pitch as she reached the climax of her address. "And I have to remind you all once again that we're here for the good of the whole. At some point, every single one of you will likely hold the fates of the rest of us in your hands. I know trust is something hard to give away. I know it's not really something that we were trained for. But be that as it may, I'm asking you to trust me when I speak with the ordinaries outside, just as I trust every one of you to stay here with me, and to perform your duties flawlessly.
"We're all transgenics," she said with a sweeping gaze. "And while perfection may be our goal, it's a goal that is certainly attainable for us."
Logan looked at Max, hardly aware that a small tear had formed in the corner of his eye. I'm so sorry Max, he thought silently. He could see that Max had finally embraced her destiny – the messianic fate that Sandeman had planned for her from the beginning. Set was right, Logan realized miserably. Humanity will never just give in and accept transgenics. There's too much fear, too much inclination toward persecution and violence. They'll do everything they can to wipe out anyone that's different, from the transgenics to the Familiars, and someone's going to have to make sure that doesn't happen. It's sad, it's deplorable… and it's necessary. I'll hate myself forever for doing this, but Lydecker was right, it has to be me. I'm the only one he could trust, and I'm the only one that would move heaven and earth to keep Max safe.
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"Every one of my concerns was ignored," Ames White complained to the thin, alluring figure that kept to the shadows. She was a woman known only as Lillith, and White's limbs were rattling nervously just being in the same room with her. "I warned my superiors months ago that the transgenics were a threat. They ignored everything I said, and now they've ruined everything."
"Not everything," Lillith cooed. "The Coming may have been temporarily averted, but it may yet be unleashed on the world."
"How?" White asked. "The Israelis destroyed the Well of the Seas. Without that--"
"We'll simply have to come up with something else," the woman interrupted. "Surely the son of Sandeman is not so completely wrapped up by prophecy and ritual that he can't see other possibilities."
"But the antigen in that damned transgenic's body is going to prove an insurmountable obstacle," White pointed out. "We can only assume that she's alive out there somewhere, and that if she knew about the Well that she also knows about the pathogen… and how she can stop it. Even if we released all of the stored blood we have remaining, it certainly won't be enough to initiate The Coming before humanity would be able to start culturing her body's antigen."
"The transgenic woman is irrelevant," Lillith shot back, her voice making it clear that she was not going to debate the issue. "She did what she was apparently designed to do, and her success meant our failure. There's no point in wasting our precious resources by concerning ourselves with her any longer. Sandeman was good, but he didn't have enough time to come up with ways to stymie all of our contingency plans."
"What contingency plans?" Ames asked.
"Agent White, surely you weren't foolish enough to believe that we spent millennia planning the end of the world, only to leave ourselves with but one option," Lillith said, her voice suddenly cold but holding a disturbing hint of amusement. "There are other ways to destroy humanity, no matter how inefficient they may be. True, The Coming could have been brought about instantly through the Well of the Seas, but we'll yet prevail. Give us time, Ames."
"And the transgenics?" White pressed.
"Be gone," Lillith's voice bellowed. "I told you – forget them. Until you have absorbed that most simple of directives, you will bother me no more."
Ames White did as he was told, turning on his heel and walking quickly from Lillith's chambers. They're all wrong, he seethed. The transgenics were designed to stop us. Not just to prevent The Coming, but to face us on equal terms and protect humanity. My father may have been many things, but he was certainly not foolish or inattentive to detail. My superiors have absolutely no idea what kind of threat they're facing, and they're too damned self-important to listen to any conflicting opinions. White's pace began to quicken as new thoughts raced through his head.
There are others in our ranks who have faced the transgenics, who must know that we are no longer unquestionably the top of the evolutionary ladder in this world. I'll find more who know what I know. If my superiors wish to ignore the truth, they're welcome to… but I won't. I'll do what needs to be done. I'll destroy every single one of the transgenics. And I'll start with 452.
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Set walked through the shot-up apartment, ignoring the stiff wind that blew a light mist in through the window. It was indicative of the depressed economy that Foggle Towers had yet to find a new tenant for Logan's old apartment. Well, until now, that is, Set thought.
The penthouse was certainly large enough to fit his needs, he simply wondered at the wisdom of returning their forces to Logan's original homestead. He accepted the idea that White and his Familiars were unlikely to return to a place they had already all but destroyed, but something about the decision still seemed too risky. But this is what the boss wants, he reminded himself. You swore an oath to obey him come what may. I'm not going to start questioning his orders on the first day.
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Zack sat quietly, poring over the data he had been able to decode from one of Lydecker's captured logs. The guy was certainly paranoid, the X5 noted. All of the information had been broken up into small files, each of which had a twenty-character decryption code, including not only numbers, but also several languages. Each of the twenty characters could be any one of over a hundred possibilities. I don't know that I'll ever get more than a few of these opened, Zack finally admitted, thankful that he had at least been able to get the main file open. It contained the highlights of Lydecker's research, as well as the location of a prep school that the Familiars ran in Connecticut.
"Lucius," Zack said as he pushed down the com button in front of him. "Gather up your team and report to the briefing room."
"Aye, sir," Lucius answered.
At least we have someplace to start, Zack decided. With any luck we'll be able to find enough information at that prep school to lead us to at least one more worthwhile target. And then one more after that, and another after that… The transgenic's thoughts continued along that line, thinking through his simple strategy for finding Familiar targets and destroying them. It's a war, he reminded himself. And maybe Max has her heart set on peaceful coexistence, but it'll never work. She'll figure that out eventually, but until then, I'll take care of business. My mission still hasn't changed – I will protect my soldiers. Whether they want me to or not.
Fin
Author's First Endnote: Hope I was effectively able to convey what the whole thing was with Max. I did my best to spell it all out, but maybe I didn't do well enough. If you have any thoughts on that topic, let me know. Maybe I'll end up modifying this chapter a wee bit.
Author's Second Endnote: Well, now that it's all over (sort of), let me know what you thought. I'll pay attention to your comments (in a totally non-George Lucas type of way) and see if I can use any comments/criticisms/complaints/suggestions in the sequel (currently titled Introducing the Serpent). Until that's ready to start getting posted, feel free to check out some of my older Dark Angel stories (yeah, I know, that's a really shameless self-plug). Finally, a big thank you to all of you that took the time to write any reviews/suggestions/criticisms – all y'all rule. And at the risk of irking anyone by missing any names, I want to especially thank Cait, RagingConfusion, JoJo, coolbeans, Deb, Becky, cheetahluke, and of course, True Blue Healer. The continued reviews really helped keep me going. If I missed anyone, I'm really, really sorry. Feel free to email me and chew me out ruthlessly.
