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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Author's Note: Writing this story is starting to get so fun…
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VIII – Chapter 8"Should I even bother to ask where you've been?" Logan asked as Set walked into the office.
"Probably not," the transgenic answered gruffly.
"Well I think I'm going to, anyway," Logan retorted. He felt he'd been more than understanding of Set's penchant for disappearing just when Logan most wanted him around. This crap's getting old, he seethed.
"I was meeting with several of my contacts," Set told him.
"That's it?" Set was completely unreadable, but Logan still felt he had a distinct advantage – instinct. And his instincts told him that there was far more going on than he was being told.
"No," Set admitted with a disinterested tone. For the first time since accepting Set's assistance, Logan was struck with the fear that he might have been better off without the Slinger. Sure, he's been an incredible asset, he acknowledged. He's a one-man strike team, he has a seemingly bottomless bank account, and he's got contacts up the whazoo . . . but I don't know where his loyalties really lie. I don't know if I can control him. That realization hit Logan hard, and he found himself wishing that Syl was in the room with him instead of sulking in the guest bedroom. His head was suddenly filled with the admonitions of folk wisdom and philosophers, warnings against playing with fire and looking into the abyss.
Logan found himself faced with two alternatives – he could square off against Set right then and there, engaging him in a contest of wills that would determine without question who was in control of their alliance, or he could just let it slide. Again. Enough of this, Logan decided. "I want to know where you were," he told his guest. "I want to know who you met with, and what you found out."
Set looked at him with a curious stare, as if he was trying to make sense of the words he had just heard. Logan was forced to wonder if anyone had ever stood up to Set before. "I'll tell you what I can," Set said, seeming to offer a compromise between full disclosure and absolute secrecy. Logan nodded, deciding that for the time being it would do to hear the high points. He felt he still needed Set, at least for a little while longer. It really isn't tactically advisable to give him any ultimatums right now.
"Most of my contacts have sworn me to secrecy out of fear that, if captured, you'd give them up in a heartbeat if you knew their identities," Set explained. "I know that isn't the case; or, to be more precise, I know you would never willingly give them up. Of course, I can't make any kind of informed judgment on your ability to withstand torture or resist any one of a number of drugs and interrogation techniques."
"I get the point," Logan assured his lieutenant. "What can you tell me without revealing the names of your sources?"
"Zack is on the verge of taking his war to the next level," Set reported. "He's decided that the government is about to sanction his activities against the Familiars, and he's using that as a recruitment pitch. He's had roughly a dozen new recruits in the last week, some of them from your own ranks."
"I thought so," Logan admitted, remembering reports that seven of his people had gone missing recently, none of them in a combat-related situation.
"That blast at the Willard Building was his work, too," Set added. "He deliberately aimed to include civilian casualties as a message to the Familiars. He wanted them to know that they wouldn't be able to shield their facilities with innocent bystanders."
"I see," Logan muttered, part of him revolted that even Zack would do such a thing, and part of him disgustedly admitting that Zack's decision might help save countless innocents down the road. Tactically sound but morally repugnant, he decided, coming to the same conclusion about Zack's commands that he so often did. He may get results, but he's still more terrorist than soldier, Logan reminded himself, once again vowing to walk the high road. He would never allow himself to walk Zack's path, where his obsession with his goals clouded his ability to differentiate right from wrong.
"I also spoke to Senator McElroy," Set said, surprising Logan with that revelation.
"Why?"
"He had things he wished to discuss," Set responded with a shrug. "Turns out McElroy is the one that came up with the Slinger program, so he knew all about me. He's got a lot of people in the NSA who owe him favors, and he had them track me down. He was very interested to find out that I work for Kilroy."
"He knows?" That definitely caught Logan off-guard.
"He asked me what I'd been up to since the escape, and I told him I worked for Kilroy," Set clarified.
"Why?" Logan asked. This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about with him, he realized. All this loose cannon shit, private agendas, illicit funds . . . I'll bet he even has a strike team he hasn't told me about.
"I was under the impression it would be useful to let the senator know," Set answered simply. A coy smirk passed across his face for a brief moment, and then vanished. "Was I mistaken?"
"No," Logan said hurriedly. "Not at all. I think you're right; it'll be easier to control things now." Logan's eyes pored over Set as he searched for . . . something. Not even Logan knew what he expected to find. He's known all along what I plan to do, he decided. And if he's already figured out my endgame, there's no telling what he's come up with to complement it. Or interfere with it.
"Is that all?" Set asked.
"Where do your loyalties lie, Set?" Logan asked. He hadn't planned to be so blunt; he thought he could be far more clever. But when it came time to ask the question, some part of Logan's brain prevented him from engaging in a verbal sparring match and just cut to the chase.
"The future," Set answered enigmatically, his amused eyes daring Logan to draw his 10mm and demand a more satisfactory answer.
"Think you could be just a little clearer?" Logan asked, resisting the urge to introduce firearms to the conversation.
"I mean what I said," Set answered. "I mean it quite literally. I'm not talking about some kind of ideal future where transgenics and ordinaries live in peace. I don't mean a future where only my kind, or your kind, or White's kind, or any group in particular inherits the Earth for itself. I mean the future. Out at Megiddo the Familiars planned to unleash The Coming. It would have wiped out humanity. And if the pathogen mutated, which isn't a very far-fetched possibility, it may have also wiped out the Familiars and every other life form on the planet. Not that I wouldn't enjoy the irony of the Familiars being hoisted on their own petards, as it were, but the idea of everything being destroyed was not entirely pleasant. So I fought to preserve the future, whatever it may be."
"So you're gonna stand there and expect me to believe that you have absolutely no interest in what shape the future takes?"
"Would you believe me if I said yes?"
"No."
"Then you're a wise enough man," Set said with a disturbing grimace that Logan thought was supposed to be an amused smile. He could only conclude that smiling was something so alien to Set that the transgenic had never learned to do it properly.
"So there're things you aren't telling me," Logan surmised.
"Of course there are," Set admitted. "I already told you that much on the plane ride back from Megiddo. So yes, there are things I'm not telling you, just as there are things you aren't telling me. Or Max. Or Syl. Though I'm disappointed that neither of them has put it all together yet. Especially Syl." He shook his head, almost sadly, and then abruptly changed the topic. "Perhaps it's best if we redefine our relationship."
"How so?" Logan asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"We're allies, you and me," he explained. "Or, more to the point, Kilroy and I are allies. I think Eyes Only is an associate, and Logan and I . . . well, I'd like to think Logan and I may actually be friends." It caught Logan off-guard to hear Set speak of him as three different people, though he also had to admit that it made sense. Each of his three identities had very different agendas, and Set couldn't be expected to feel the same way about all of them.
"Would you?" Logan asked, amused at the idea of Set having friends. It just didn't seem right, like the idea of having a crocodile as a tub toy. He was just too dangerous and self-involved to ever treat anyone as an equal.
"I'll be there for you when no one else is," Set promised coldly, forcing Logan to wonder if that was, in fact, a good thing. "When the others abandon you, condemn you, or are simply cut off from you, I'm the one that will be there for you. At your side, making certain everything goes as planned." A chill went down Logan's spine as he listened to Set speak, but he was strangely grateful, nonetheless.
"Thank you," Logan said.
"Don't mention it," Set said evenly as he turned and made a move to leave Logan's office. "If you don't mind, I haven't eaten in three days. I'd like to get a quick meal if that's not a problem."
"Mi casa es su casa," Logan replied. As Set left, Syl walked in.
"Hey," she muttered to Logan as she half-turned to watch Set walk out of view. "You told me this morning you needed me to meet with someone for you tonight."
"Yeah, it's someone who does work for Eyes Only," Logan told her, finally getting up the nerve to introduce Syl to one of his better contacts. The only other person he had ever trusted with this kind of responsibility was Max, and despite the fact that he trusted Syl with his life, he had trouble taking this big step. But if not her, then who?
"Really?" Syl asked. "You sure you want this? I thought you tried to keep them all a secret."
"I trust you with this," Logan assured her. "The meeting is down at the old Space Needle. Here's a picture," he added, passing over a worn photograph of a middle-aged man in a far-outdated suit. "His name is Kevin Corben. He was my mentor, the man who got me into cyber-journalism in the first place. He's got some information about the police commissioner; apparently, he's ripping off some of the supplies from the National Guard troops around Terminal City and selling them to line his own pockets."
"Predictable," Syl muttered. "But wouldn't this Corben guy be more comfortable with you instead of me?"
"No, I mentioned you a couple of weeks ago, and he's the one who actually suggested this meeting," Logan answered. "It'll be just fine."
"So . . . there anything else?" Syl asked. Her tone caught Logan off-guard, as if she was expecting another topic of conversation. And of course, I have lots more to say, he admitted silently. But I don't know if now is the time. He pondered the decision for a moment, and then resisted the urge to turn back to his computer and pretend he was too busy to talk any more. I have to do this, he told himself. Putting it off will only make it worse.
"Well, one other thing," Logan muttered. "If you've got a minute, that is."
"I have lots of minutes," Syl assured him. "Whadda ya need?"
"We have to talk," Logan told her in 'that voice.' It was the voice that always assured impending doom for any relationship, and just from looking at Syl he knew her experiences outside Manticore had prepared her for what was to come.
"You don't have to say it," Syl said, her weight leaning to her left just enough to let Logan know she was aching for a chance to leave. Despite what he wanted, he couldn't let her do that yet.
"I think I do," he responded. "You and I can't be like we are anymore," he said, finally coming to grips with what he felt was the situation. I don't care that Max and I had a fight a month ago, and I don't care that she ran away tonight for no apparent reason whatsoever. That kiss sealed it – she's the one I want to be with.
"I know," Syl told him. "I knew as soon as I walked in the room, before you even said anything, though the tone of your voice left no doubt."
"And?" Logan asked, hoping Syl would forgive him, that she would say she understood and didn't hold any ill will toward him.
"And what?" Syl replied. "I don't want it this way, but I understand, all right? Is that what you wanted to hear, that I've actually fallen for you?"
"Syl…"
"No, shut up for once, Logan," Syl growled. "I know what I said to you in the beginning, that you shouldn't think of me as anything special, that I only wanted to feel comforted, just like you. I know I've insisted that you keep a safe emotional distance, and I'm glad you listened to me. Just don't assume I heeded my own advice."
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Logan pleaded. This is not going as well as I'd planned…
"I know you didn't mean it," Syl told him, "and I know this is probably tearing you up inside almost as much as it is me. That's what I love about you Logan – you care. You honestly care. Do you know how rare that is? Do you realize that no one has ever really cared about me before, that no one's made feel as special as you do?"
"I'm sorry."
"I know!" Syl responded through gritted teeth. "But that only makes it worse. If you'd really just been using me, or if you treated me like shit, or if you cheated on me . . . then this would be far easier to take, just like it always was in the past. But that's not the way it was. You treated me like gold.
"Do you remember back when we hit Gillette?" she asked. Logan nodded. "Well, while you and Deck were getting the satellite hack set up, I asked Max what she was doing with you. I wanted to know what could possibly attract her to someone who was so obviously inferior. No offense."
"None taken," Logan assured her. He kept silent the fact that he'd often wondered the same thing himself – on many occasions – and now he couldn't wait to hear an answer.
"Max told me that you were incredibly easy to fall in love with," Syl told him. "In fact, she said it was impossible not to. You were not only caring and idealistic, but you were also willing to put yourself on the line to fight for what you believed, unlike so many other people out there. And you treated her well, expecting nothing in return. She knew you had feelings for her for a long time, but that you never tried to force anything, that you were always willing to let her decide on a relationship for herself. You were the first person in her life that treated her with real warmth and didn't try to use her for something."
"That's not really true," Logan objected. "She did a lot of work for me, for Eyes Only."
"And you and I both know you would have treated her just the same if she hadn't helped out," Syl countered. "You made her feel safe, and wanted, and as if she belonged."
"She did belong," Logan said.
"I know," Syl admitted. "And she still does. She belongs with you right now. You already know that, Logan. I mean, you two couldn't keep your hands off each other in the ten minutes she was here."
"You were spying on us?"
"No, I can smell her on you," Syl told him.
"What?" Logan asked, feeling his stomach lurch as he came to an unpleasant realization. Oh no, she couldn't have…
"I can smell Max's perfume on you," Syl told him. "She was wearing the same old Tommy Girl she always wears."
"She only gave me a couple of hugs, just for a few seconds," Logan replied nervously. "You can smell her after only that?"
"Yeah," Syl muttered, taking a step toward the doorway. "From all the way over here."
"Can I ask you something?" I don't want to ask, but I have to know…
"Sure."
"Do you think she could have, you know, smelled you on me?"
Syl's eyes went wide with surprise. "Damn," she whispered. "After last night… almost certainly." After last night, Logan thought miserably. After our marathon session in the bedroom. And the shower. And back in the bedroom. Oh crap. "Is that why she ran out so quickly?"
"I think so," Logan answered.
"She didn't say anything?"
"No."
"Maybe I should talk to her," Syl offered. "I could try to explain that --"
"No." Logan stood up from his chair and crossed to his bodyguard. "I'll take care of it, one way or another."
"Okay. But do you want some advice?"
"Sure," Logan said. Can't hurt, might help.
"Don't wait too long," Syl told him. "Right now her mind is probably racing along, wondering how long this has been going on between you and me, wondering why you did it, and what I have that she doesn't. I doubt she'll understand what it was without having you explain."
"Would you understand if you were in her position?"
"I'm not in her position," Syl answered caustically. "I'm rebound girl, not true love girl."
"Don't say that," Logan objected. "Don't minimize what you mean to me."
"And don't you say anything more than that," Syl grumbled. "Just let it be, okay?" Logan nodded. "Just don't talk about it."
"Okay," Logan muttered. Syl turned to leave, to go to a meeting that Logan had arranged when everything had still been fine between them. All of five minutes ago, Logan thought glumly. It already seems like it was a lifetime ago. Syl took a step, but Logan felt he needed to say something else. "You do know I genuinely care, right?"
"Yeah, I know," Syl assured him. "And that's why it hurts so much."
To be continued………………………………