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 (and would really be sorta whacked, given some of the events and persons depicted herein).
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III – A Rock and a Hard Place"If you would turn on the lights?" the large man asked from the doorway where he waited patiently, obviously unwilling to engage in any of the psychological games most of Lillith's visitors were forced into.
"Of course," Lillith replied smoothly, turning a dial on the underside of her mahogany desk, brightening the room and banishing the shadows that had been dancing at the edge of the orange light cast from her fireplace. Her visitor then strode forward quickly, confidently, his eyes focused on Lillith as he approached, pointedly ignoring the whistling emitted from the nightingale boards. Lillith wondered whether she should open the conversation with some small talk, but quickly decided against it. Trying to make chitchat would only make me seem anxious, she realized. I don't care who's visiting me – I damn well won't appear uncomfortable in my own office.
"I suppose we should just get right down to it," the man suggested. "You may call me Mr. Johnson. I assume you know why I'm here." Lillith nodded. Mr. Johnson's visit had been inevitable after her recent decisions resulted in less than absolute success. Her superiors were displeased, and she'd known a review would occur. "I first need to know exactly what your role has been in recent months."
"In regards to?" Lillith asked, trying to give herself a framework she could work with. The last thing she wanted to do was offer more information than was required.
"I want to know everything," Mr. Johnson told her. Lillith fought to suppress a scowl. He's planning on giving me more than enough rope to hang myself with, she decided.
"I suppose I should start with The Coming?" Mr. Johnson didn't move a muscle in response, and Lillith tried not to squirm under his probing gaze. "The Coming was not my decision," she began. "Others besides myself determined it was time to initiate it."
"Did you oppose them?" Mr. Johnson asked, the corners of his mouth crinkling slightly in what Lillith was certain was a sneer.
"No," she replied. "I agreed it was the proper time. Prophecy had indicated as much. Besides, there were other factors to consider."
"The transgenics," Mr. Johnson added with an understanding nod.
"Yes. Sandeman and his followers had created a huge problem for us," Lillith explained, though she was certain she was saying nothing that Mr. Johnson didn't already know. "The one called Max was Sandeman's aim all along – creating her was the goal of his research, and his success threatened everything we'd strove for centuries to create."
"The problem was under control," Mr. Johnson muttered. "We had White tracking the girl down. He'd succeeded in exterminating dozens of transgenics, and eventually he would have terminated her, as well."
"We didn't have time for him to do it eventually," Lillith countered. "The girl knew about us. I don't know how, but she knew about Sandeman, too. That damned Colonel Lydecker had also been poking around. Son of a bitch used to be Military Intelligence, Covert Ops. He had contacts that not even our best placed moles knew about; he had access to information that we thought had been destroyed decades ago."
"So you endorsed the idea to rush ahead?"
"Yes," Lillith confirmed once more. "And I would do it again. It was the right decision."
"Obviously it was not," Mr. Johnson growled. "The Coming was averted. Some of our best people were killed at Megiddo. You are at least partially responsible."
"If anything, our failure was in not acting sooner," Lillith retorted. "Had our people been at Megiddo just one day earlier, they would have been able to act without the transgenics' interference. Instead it was people like you, arguing for restraint rather than action, that destroyed an opportunity to work within a favorable timeframe."
Mr. Johnson simply smiled in response, not bothering to engage in a debate over the merits of the plan to initiate The Coming. Lillith couldn't decide whether or not she would have preferred a response. As it was, she was already regretting her outburst. Such careless displays of emotion and disrespect would only hurt her case. "And The Rapture?" Mr. Johnson inquired.
"That was my decision," Lillith admitted.
"Do you understand that support for that action amongst your superiors was . . . scarce?"
"Yes," Lillith replied without hesitation, unconcerned with getting unanimous support. "But scarce does not mean nonexistent. I had enough support to go ahead with the plan."
"A plan that all but ended any hope we have of wiping out the ordinaries any time in the near future," Mr. Johnson remarked a little too casually. "You've placed us between a rock and a hard place, Lillith. We cannot take any further direct action without seriously endangering the secrecy of our people, but we likewise we cannot remain inactive for fear of the transgenics exposing what they already know."
"That is the same position we were in before The Rapture," Lillith shot back. "We had no other alternative. It's too late to attempt to remain hidden. We face two threats – the transgenics and the ordinaries. The Rapture would certainly have killed the ordinaries, and could possibly have killed all or some of the transgenics. Had it succeeded you would be here lauding me with praise."
"Perhaps," Mr. Johnson replied. "But the fact remains that The Rapture failed. The Venetian Contingency – centuries in the making – was our best backup plan. You wasted it."
Lillith remained silent as she leaned back in her chair, trying to appear far more confident than she actually was. She was on extremely thin ice, and she knew it. A wrong word now could get her killed, so she instead waited for her guest to add something new to the conversation.
"And what of the Caine woman?"
"Our intelligence indicates that she was captured," Lillith reported.
"By the transgenics," Mr. Johnson spat. "That woman was our best bio-geneticist. She has information on all of our programs. God only knows how much she's given up to her captors. Can you explain to me what possessed you to keep her stationed on Crab Island without a sizable security detail?"
"My superiors – your peers – had insisted that the location was secure," Lillith retorted caustically. "Don't think for a moment that you'll lay that failure at my door. Had anyone even indicated that there was the slightest possibility of a security breach, I would likely have brought Dr. Caine back to the mainland. I wouldn't even have taken a chance on securing the island."
"Perhaps you're right," Mr. Johnson mused, shocking Lillith with his sudden reconsideration of the situation. "As you say, there was no indication that our facility on the island had been discovered. And I don't know that it's entirely fair to blame you for the failure of The Rapture."
"So why are you here?" Lillith demanded, not waiting for Mr. Johnson to reverse his line of thought again. She planned to immediately place him on the defensive.
"A scapegoat is required," Mr. Johnson answered simply. "Millennia of planning has been wasted; the fanatical beliefs of our people have been called into question. Surely you can see how that could pose some problems."
"Finding a scapegoat will only provide spin control," Lillith commented. "It will help put our people's minds at ease, but it will do nothing to address the very real threat we're facing. We must fix the problem, not the blame."
"I agree, of course," Mr. Johnson assured her. "But you must know that I was sent here for the very reason that I do not like you or your methods. I won't lie to you, Lillith – I think your decisions have been at best careless, and at worst foolhardy. Either way, you obviously do not deserve the responsibilities that we've given to you."
"So I'm to take the fall because an unknown party detonated nuclear weapons in the Jordan River Valley, thus vaporizing the micro-organisms with which we were going to wipe out all life on the planet?" Lillith spat.
"Unless you can come up with a ready solution that will save our people," Mr. Johnson offered.
"Our two major plans have been thwarted," Lillith said, thinking out loud. "There's no ready contingency plan waiting in the wings. The only alternative I see is to go to ground."
"Unacceptable," Mr. Johnson said immediately. "Going to ground will require secrecy. We'll need to be divided into cells, so that discovery of some of us will not lead to discovery of others. Compartmentalizing us in such a way will destroy our greatest virtue – unity of purpose. We'll run the risk of fractionalization. That's unacceptable."
"You're assuming people will be looking for us," Lillith countered.
"To do otherwise would be foolish," Mr. Johnson responded. "The transgenics know about us. That knowledge is the one ace they have up their sleeves. Exposing us could lead to panic, the creation of a threat that's far greater than anything they pose. We've already tried to wipe out humanity. Twice. Evidence of that will get us all killed."
"Only if anyone believes them," Lillith purred. "They're freaks, animals in human bodies. No one will listen to them."
"But they'll listen to Senator McElroy," Mr. Johnson muttered.
"What?" Lillith gasped. "No."
"Our people in the Capitol have uncovered evidence that leads them to believe a senator has been slowly amassing information about us," Mr. Johnson explained. "We don't know who, for certain, but McElroy hasn't bothered to hide the fact that he's been in contact with the transgenics. Four hours ago we sent one of our assassins to eliminate the threat. It turned out that the senator had a transgenic bodyguard. The hit failed, and he has since been moved to a secure, undisclosed location. Even worse, we've received word that he's purchased time on national television for a prime-time speech."
"And you think the speech will be about us?"
"Us and his plans to run for president," Mr. Johnson said. "If he's protected by the transgenics, we may not be able to get at him. I don't think I need to explain the danger that poses."
"Of course not."
"So, as I indicated, any plans to go to ground will necessitate arrangement of our people into cells."
"Our only remaining alternatives seem to be fight and flight," Lillith muttered, amazed that their failures had been so complete as to bring them to this unfathomable place. "Unless…" she said in a whisper, considering a new possibility.
"Unless?"
"We could surrender," Lillith suggested.
"You're mad," Mr. Johnson retorted. "We will not surrender our people, our way of life, to the ordinaries. I'd die first."
"And you will die if we don't take action," Lillith pointed out.
"But surrender?" Mr. Johnson asked. "It's inconceivable."
"I'm not talking about an overt surrender," Lillith explained. "What I'm suggesting is more of a strategic cutting of our losses."
"Explain," Mr. Johnson prompted as he leaned forward in his chair.
"The solution is simple, although it doubtless hasn't occurred to you or your associates because of our belief that none of our people are expendable."
"I see," her guest nodded. "We'll arrange to have certain information uncovered, information that would reveal the identities of some of our people."
"Names and locations," Lillith agreed. "Some of the transgenics are partaking in a rather vigorous war against us. We should take advantage of that fact. We could give them the information they're looking for. We have very few cards left to play, but the greatest is the fact that no one outside of our own upper ranks knows how many of us there actually are. We could give up hundreds of our people, enough to make it seem as if our enemies had achieved victory…"
"But enough to retain a viable gene pool," Mr. Johnson finished for her. "A promising idea. Our information indicates that with one notable exception, none of the transgenics have passed on their enhanced traits to their progeny. It's reasonable to assume that within a few generations they'll be all but extinct."
"Leaving the ordinaries alone against us once more," Lillith commented. "With bio-technology as advanced a it is, we could very likely recreate the effects of The Coming's bio-toxin within a few years. As long as the ordinaries are convinced that we've been defeated, they'll stop looking for us. We'll be left alone to continue with our plans."
"And in less than a hundred years we would once again be able to initiate The Coming," Mr. Johnson said. "Yes, it's an admirable plan. I'll need to discuss this with my associates."
"Of course," Lillith said with a satisfied grin.
"And yes, Lillith, I will give credit where credit is due," he assured her. "You may very well have escaped the proverbial noose with this scheme."
"I only live to serve," Lillith replied smoothly, attempting to conceal her relief while also downplaying her own crucial role. She doubted Mr. Johnson was one to approve of grandstanding.
To be continued………………………………