16. Theater of the Absurd

The boxy, dark blue van was so obviously a surveillance operation, that Alec laughed out loud. He would never betray Max's position. Max was the one who had set him free. He had been a dedicated soldier until Manticore had tried to burn him alive. Now, it was time to beat the bastards at their own game, and have a little fun in the process. Casually, he sauntered toward the vehicle. When he reached the rear tires, he bent to tie an imaginary shoelace. He withdrew a Ka-Bar knife from one of his wrist sheaths, and flipped it experimentally, enjoying the heft. It felt good to have a knife in hand, just like old times. He drove the blade sideways, into the tire.

When he stood, the knife was in his sleeve. The whole operation had taken a couple of seconds. A normal person would never have seen the blade. He walked away, laughing softly. Follow me now, suckers, he thought.



"You can't just drop a bomb on me and then walk out of here," said Logan. "If Alec is going to become dangerous, we need to do something about it."

"I let him loose in the world, Logan. He's my responsibility."

Logan sighed. "Max, I agree with you."

"Alec and Ben were twinned, Logan. I don't know why I'm surprised. Ben had a dangerous flaw in his make-up. It's only logical to assume that Alec could have the same problem."

"That's not a scientific certainty, Max. Didn't Manticore test him six ways to Sunday?"

Max had returned to the living room, and now she paced back and forth. "Manticore gave him a six-month vacation in PSYOPS after Ben freaked out. I guess they thought they had him under control. But they weren't God Logan, no matter how much they played at it with their freaky little experiments."

"Besides," said Logan, "exactly how sane do you want your pet assassin to be?"

"There's that, too," said Max. She sighed harshly. "Oh Logan, he's already a killer. That's why Manticore built him."

"Max," said Logan. He took a deep breath. "After you left, he totally flipped out. He put his fist through the wall."

"What?" said Max. She looked around. She went over to the new poster and pulled it down. There was a fist sized hole driven deep into the wall. The hole was about the height of a tall man sitting in a wheelchair. She looked at Logan. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Max."

"But did he try to hurt you?" she asked shrilly. "He hurt Cindy."

"What!" said Logan. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," he said. He hadn't known what the hell to tell her.

"Cindy said he was totally fixated on me." Since they were going to be forthcoming, might as well go the distance.

Logan was badly shaken. That was what he had suspected. "I think he's having a psychotic break," he said. "I think he's disturbed. I know I am."



The Seattle Bell repairman descended from an office in Block-D, toolbox in hand. He walked over to his van, slid open the door, and tossed his tools inside. He stepped back and regarded his ride; it wasn't sitting level. He saw the flat, and groaned. "Stupid kids!" he said out loud.



To be continued. . .