Part XI
Bobby walked into the Official's office, not looking forward to telling the boss that they had cold-cocked and essentially kidnapped one of the top guys from the SWRB, then brought him back here to be shoved in the padded room until he regained consciousness. Bobby could feel his ears sizzling already.
Hobbes had no idea what Smith and the 'Fish were working on when he walked in, and he didn't really care. "Smith, vamoose," he said without preamble. He held the door open and gestured for Smith to leave.
The Official must have guessed something was up, so he simply nodded to Smith, who picked up the stack of files and left the room without a word. Bobby shut the door behind him and moved to stand in front of the Official's desk. "I like that one, quiet and obedient."
"Hobbes, cut the crap and tell me what the hell you screwed up this time." The Official sounded more than a bit worn out, which was unusual. He typically went to great lengths to hide anything he might be feeling from his agents, especially from Hobbes.
"Well, you remember the SWRB mook that was here earlier?" The Official just sat there, waiting for Hobbes to continue. "He's currently unconscious and locked in the padded room."
The glasses came off and the Official's hand came up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I did not just hear that. Because, if I had, I would be forced to kill you and display your head on the battlements of the building in order to save this Agency."
Hobbes didn't react. He'd known this wouldn't go over well. "Sorry, Chief, but he drugged the kid with something and tried to grab her. You want that to happen?"
"And how, pray tell, did Miss Silver get anywhere near him?" The tone was mild, almost curious, but Bobby could hear the undertone of exasperation and suppressed rage.
"Uh, she followed him and, since we didn't think she should confront him alone, we -- me and Fawkes, that is -- we followed her," Hobbes answered, not feeling the least bit guilty over it. If she had gone alone, the SWRB would now have her, and the Agency would probably never have seen her again.
"So you, like the complete and total fool that you are, thought it would be better to kidnap the Director of the SWRB and bring him back here. Brilliant. Just the kind of intelligent work I expect from you." The Official's voice slowly rose as he spoke, until he was bellowing the final words at the top of his lungs.
"Boss, just calm down and listen," Hobbes began, only to have the Official get to his feet and stalk around the desk at him. Somehow Hobbes kept his place without flinching; usually, having that much mass coming at him at that speed would make him dive for cover. Instead he yelled, "He said it was to control her! Is that what you want? To hold her here the same way you do Fawkes?"
That stopped the Official and cooled the rage that had overtaken his expression. "No, damn it. That's the last thing I want. Miss Silver...." He stopped and shook his head, lowering his voice "She holds the keys to her chains, not I." He leaned against the desk. "This is getting out of hand."
Hobbes waited while the Official thought some more about the situation. "Hobbes, watch him. Let me know when he regains consciousness. I need to make some calls."
"What about the kid?" Hobbes asked, wondering of the fat bastard had forgotten about her already.
"I'm sure the Keeper will inform me of her condition when she's ready." The Official moved back around the desk and sat down. "Hobbes...."
"Yeah, Chief. I'll keep him busy." Hobbes left the office and headed back down to see how their guest was doing.
* * *
Darien sighed and looked up at Claire from his position down on the floor. "Explain, please."
"We recovered a small sample of the drug from the dart gun he used. I'm not even sure what the hell it is, except that it's not an inhibitor." Claire did not look at all thrilled.
Darien shifted slightly, trying to get Alyx more comfortable. He wasn't very successful; she still had her eyes shut and her hands up over her ears. "Well, if you don't know what it is, do you at least know what it's doing?"
Claire shook her head. "Only vaguely. I'm hoping some more tests will answer that more precisely." She moved closer to the couple, wanting to see how Alyx was doing. "It appears that the drug has blocked her control." She held up the printouts for a moment before setting them on the chair.
"How?" Alyx got out in a barely audible voice.
"I wish I knew," Claire said softly. "I want to run an MRI and a CT scan. Maybe a PET scan as well." She paused, watching Alyx carefully. "It's almost as if they've overwritten your control programming. It's still there, you just can't access it."
"Claire, her control is the pineal gland right?" Claire nodded. "Isn't that also what controls her quicksilver?"
"Bloody hell," Claire muttered. "Yes. The damn fool had no idea what he was playing with."
Darien snorted, which was too much for Alyx. She whimpered and tried to get away again, but he didn't allow her to, holding her still until she simply stopped fighting him. "He thinks she's just a telepath. Do you want to correct his impression?"
Claire chose to deal with Alyx's problem first. "Alyx, you can control your sight and hearing consciously. Stop letting it control you."
Alyx struggled free and forced herself to her feet with a snarl. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Keeper," she said with a hiss. "To you I'm nothing but a bunch of numbers and chemical formulas you can read on a computer screen. I'm surprised you're not cheering. They finally figured out a way to control me. What a shame it may also break me."
Darien had gotten to his feet by Alyx's second sentence and moved to stand beside her. She was shaking in place, though he couldn't be sure if it was from anger or the drug's side effects. "Don't do this, Alyx. Claire is doing what she can."
Alyx turned to glare at him. She had more than a bit of hysteria in her voice. "Oh, lovely, this coming from Mister stay the-hell-away-from-me himself. " She backed away from him, her hands coming up in front of her, until she bumped into the tank of piranha. She flinched, her eyes gone a bit wild again. "Oh gods, what's been done to me?"
"Alyx, that's what I want to find out." Claire showed her smarts once again by not moving an inch. Even she could tell Alyx was not all there anymore.
"Let her help," Darien said. "In this, I trust her. She'll do everything she can to fix it." For a change, it was true. Yeah, he was still angry about some things, but he trusted Claire to help in a crisis, to do anything and everything she could to resolve this and get things back to normal.
Alyx gave a quick nod and closed her eyes. As they watched, her countenance relaxed as she regulated her breathing. "All right, I've got control for now. Let's get this done before I lose it completely." Claire didn't say a word, and together the two women headed to the door of the lab.
"Claire..." Darien had no idea what to do now. Just sit here waiting?
"An hour, Darien, two at the most. Rest for a bit." Claire opened the door to the Keep. "Lab four, Alyx, the equipment is there."
"I know," Alyx commented. "I paid for the damn stuff."
The door shut on their voices, leaving Darien alone. The timing was excellent, as the back of his head burst into pain just then, driving him to his knees with his hands wrapped around the back of his skull. 'Don't fight it,' he reminded himself. 'Don't fight it.' But it wasn't easy. The tendrils of pain seemed to radiate out through his skull, triggering spasms throughout the rest of his body and making him groan aloud.
When it passed, finally, he found himself curled on the floor without quite remembering how he'd gotten there. Stretching out slowly, he rotated to lie on his back on the cool concrete floor of the Keep. He'd been ignoring the headache, figuring he still had plenty of time, and forgetting that he was no longer on the inhibitor. Looking at his wrist, he noted the three green segments remaining and wondered how he'd gotten that far without realizing it.
Thinking back, he tried to figure out where all his time had gone. Himself and wheelchair in the hallway, eavesdropping on the conversation between the Official and the Director, then Hobbes at the building, followed by himself and the wheelchair again until he could get close enough to take out the SWRB guy. Guess he had used it up. He argued with himself about telling Claire and getting a shot of counteragent, but chose to wait. There was the hint of something, an almost memory, that stopped him.
Pushing himself up off the floor, he walked over to the closest thing the lab had to a mirror -- a cheap paper towel dispenser -- and checked his eyes. He was pleased to see no obvious signs of the madness showing yet. Even so, he could hear it -- that mocking whisper in the back of his mind, that darker presence that he knew would soon be shouting at him to do things that he normally wouldn't be able to act upon.
He gave his head a shake, driving the whispers back, reestablishing his control of the situation, his life, and his choices. His life had taken a darker path in recent years. Sometimes it was simply easier to follow the suggestions that trickled from the gland, easy to let go, to allow himself to become what the quicksilver drove him to. With a sudden need to not be alone, to be around others who did not see him as the madman he could become, he grabbed the crutches and walked out of the Keep, headed for lab four to impose on the company of Claire.
He was disturbed to see the frown on Claire's face as he entered. "What's wrong?"
"I wish I knew," she muttered. "Look." She pressed a few keys and the monitor split, showing two separate images. "This is Alyx's normal readout," she pointed to the image on the right showing a colorful image of Alyx's brain, "and this is the current one." Claire didn't need to tap the monitor, the difference was obvious even to him, but he had no idea what it meant. "Her neurotransmitter level is still within the norms. Her norms." Claire amended. "But somehow the drug is interfering with the signals that control her abilities. Near as I can tell they should still work, she just can't access them. This drug was designed to target the pineal gland and alter how it functions. Somehow."
"So find out how." Darien thought it was the obvious thing to do.
"I would need the files on the project. How they created it. What they intended it to do. All of it. And somehow I doubt the SWRB would be willing to part with the information." Claire changed the screen back to the current information. The CT machine was still running, still gathering what information it could. "Alyx, try and quicksilver, would you?"
"No problem," Alyx snarled making it evident she was getting impatient with being stuck where she was.
As they watched the readouts, they could see the various areas of her brain flaring to life as she tried to trigger the quicksilver.
"That worked, but it was lots slower than normal," Alyx called out to them.
"Okay, now try and talk to Darien." Claire watched the monitor and saw no change. "Alyx, are you..." She was cut off.
"Yes, damn it. I am." Darien stepped over to where he could see Alyx. Her hands were balled into fists.
"Okay, Alyx. Just relax now. I'm nearly done." Claire looked at Darien, who was rubbing the back of his head in discomfort.
"Why not just give her the counter? She can beat on the guy for a while then." Okay, so he was letting the little voice in the back of his head make that suggestion, but he did kind of agree with it. At full power, Alyx could get pretty much anything they needed from the Director, even without having to read his mind. It's amazing how quickly some perps talked after just one little shock from her.
Claire tapped the desk with one fingernail. "I've considered it, but I think it would be a mistake."
"Huh? Why? He said it would counter the effects." Darien didn't like to think that Alyx might be forced to suffer through this till Claire solved the problem.
Claire pulled Darien further behind the wall separating the computers for the CT machine itself and lowered her voice. "We now know more about Alyx, thanks to Traci and what little information Michael tracked down. Remember when she came back, because of the quicksilver inhibitor?"
"Yeah, you just gave her a booster to get her levels back up." Darien remembered the incident vividly. Hard to forget a red-eyed Alyx collapsing on his doorstep.
"We now believe that was a mistake." Darien looked at her in confusion and she continued. "She was designed to adapt. By giving her the booster, we preempted what her body was trying to do on its own. We now think she would have corrected the problem on her own, eventually. Like with the catalyst." Claire frowned. "What we did has made her somewhat dependent on the QS booster in the event of a problem. We'd have to recreate the entire scenario in order to correct it, and that's not something I'm willing to do."
Darien thought about that for several minutes and felt the blood drain from his face when he realized what she meant. "You mean she'd end up like me. Dependent on her own counteragent for her sanity."
"Yes, Darien. It's ingenious, in a way. Near as I can tell, they would even be able to control how much she could do by varying the amount of drug they gave her. A full dose would give her full control at full power, but only for a limited time as she burned away the counter. With her reaction to being truly sense-blind, it would be very, very effective in controlling her." Claire was being frank, but there seemed to be an undertone of pleasure, like she was impressed with this creation that was slowly driving Alyx into a clinical madness. "Add in the effect of the sense-enhancement drug, and she would be effectively isolated and completely dependent on her Keeper for just about everything."
"Claire, you wouldn't...." Darien tried not to sound upset, but wasn't sure he succeeded.
"No, Darien. How could you even think that?" She truly sounded offended that he'd even hinted that she might try to control Alyx through drugs. "In fact, the Official wants me to solve this so that she has full control back. Even he doesn't want to force her to stay here, especially like this."
That surprised him. Considering everything the Official had done to get her here and the problems he'd had, what with her running off and all, the Phase III programming, the time it took to put her back together, for him to say he didn't want to control her was.... astonishing. "So, what do we do?"
Claire cleared her throat. "We do nothing, and hope she adapts like she's supposed to."
"And if she doesn't adapt? If she goes insane instead? What then?" There was a touch of anger in his voice.
"I don't know, Darien. I don't know." They stared at each other in silence until the computer signaled it was done.
Bobby frowned at the Director as he paced back and forth in the padded room. At least the guy had stopped shouting and demanding to be released, but Bobby left the speakers off anyway. There was nothing to hear and nothing he wanted to say. When he'd informed the Official that the Director was awake, there had been little to say. At a guess, the Official was still trying to pull whatever strings he could to prevent the Agency from being dismantled over this little fiasco. Two super-secret agencies battling behind the scenes, calling in favors left and right to get control of a single agent, who was not very fond of being controlled to begin with.
Claire came into the viewing room then, carrying a small bag as well as paper and a pen.
"Hey, Keepy, how's the kid?" It had been several hours since the kid had been brought in and he hadn't heard word one about her.
"Not good, Bobby, and she's going to get worse." Claire moved closer to the window, watching the man on the other side. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, and blood from a small cut on his cheek had dried, leaving dark red streaks across his face. "I need to speak with him."
"I don't know, Keepy. This guy is dangerous." Bobby wouldn't allow Claire to put herself in danger. She was too important to both the kid and Fawkes, never mind to himself. Without her, the quicksilver project might very well fall apart.
Claire turned to look it him. "No choice, Bobby. He has the information I need."
Bobby nodded in reluctant agreement. "Not alone, though." When she nodded in acquiescence, he moved to the intercom and called for a couple extra agents, telling them to arm themselves with shock sticks. No matter how much he might want this SWRB guy dead, he knew it had better not happen, or a lot more than his ass would be on the line.
So it was four of them who walked through the door to the padded room. The Director turned to face them and knew instantly they were not there to release him. The Official was actually going to continue with this farce, thinking it might sway him or his agency into backing off on the matter.
Bobby spoke. "Sit. The Doc here wants to check you over."
The Director considered for a moment, and decided to go along with it for now. Sitting carefully on the padded bed in the center of the room, he followed the brisk directions of the Keeper -- yes he did know who she really was -- as she examined him and cleaned the cut Fawkes had made on his cheek when he'd pistol-whipped him.
The fact that the girl had stopped Fawkes from pulling the trigger with just a few quiet words made him realize another mistake had been made. It was obvious now that the two were more then just partners -- lovers, most likely, and probably with the Official's approval. While Fawkes' talent was artificial, it was entirely possible that the girl's could be passed on to her children.
That would be an interesting experiment, and the SWRB wouldn't need much, just a few of her eggs to play with. They could even implant the embryos in a few of the females they already had, and see what the results would be. Maybe even add a few of their own additions, and possibly succeed in those genetic experiments that had been giving several agencies trouble over the years.
His focus swung back to the present when Hobbes poked him with the non-functional end of a shock stick to get his attention. "What?" he snapped.
"The doc asked you a question. I suggest you answer her," Hobbes said with a frown. They should have the upper hand in this matter, but the mook was acting like he was still in charge.
The Director's focus swung to Claire. "I'm afraid you'll need to repeat your question."
Claire eyed the man, not trusting him for a second. "I want you to tell me exactly what you were trying to achieve with the drug you shot Alyx with, aside from control, that is. I need the breakdown of how it works, chemical components, everything."
He looked at her, stunned at her audacity for a moment, and then chuckled. "To begin with, though I may be in charge, I have no reason or interest in memorizing every detail of how our... experiments work." He pushed himself to his feet, causing Claire to back away a couple steps and Bobby to move closer, to protect her if necessary. "I think perhaps we could come to an arrangement. I have something you want... you have something I want. Tell your Official I'd even be willing to have the job done on neutral territory to guarantee her safety." He walked into the far corner, the one spot that could not be seen from the viewing room. "I would recommend haste. There will come a point when even the counteragent I provided will have little effect and more drastic measures will be needed."
The Official's voice was suddenly in the room. "What do you want?"
"Same thing as before. I need that information; she can get it. You know the other methods have failed." He didn't move from his spot out of sight in the corner. He did watch both Agent Hobbes and the good doctor carefully, but they gave nothing away, their expressions neutral. When there was no response, he pushed a bit harder. "Do you really think you'll hold onto Fawkes if you lose her?"
Bobby took two steps towards the Director with a look of dark anger on his face, but the Official's voice stopped him. "Hobbes, back off."
Bobby's head snapped around to look at the mirrored glass. "Chief, just a little beating? It might make him more cooperative."
The Director laughed.
"Clear the room, Hobbes," the Official snapped. After a moment to grind his teeth in frustration, Bobby, with a light hand on Claire's back, left the room, followed by the two agents, leaving the Director alone again. Going into the viewing room, he looked questioningly at the Official.
"Doctor, how badly do you need that information?"
Claire shrugged. "How badly do you want Alyx functional?"
The Official nodded and turned back to the microphone. "I will consider your offer."
"Not for too long, I would hope." The Director moved to stand before the window. "I suspect time is swiftly running away from you." Then he turned his back on the glass and moved back out of view.
Turning off the microphone the Official spoke to Claire. "You suggested she might get through this on her own; how likely is that to happen?"
Bobby could tell the Keeper wasn't very confident even before she answered.
"She may very well regain full functionality on her own. Whether or not she'll still be sane when it happens is the real question," Claire answered honestly. They all knew how fragile Alyx's psyche could be, and this was definitely not one of those things she could handle well.
"What about that counteragent he had?" Bobby suggested.
Claire shook her head. "Not unless there is no other choice. And in truth, I think she'd rather go insane than become dependent on a drug for her sanity."
Bobby didn't like the sound of that. "You mean she'd become like Fawkes? Needing a shot every week or so to stay sane?"
"More often than that, I believe. Every two to three days, at a guess. She'd build up a tolerance in a matter of months, and we'd be right back where we are now." Claire ran a hand through her hair in frustration.
"No," the Official stated. "If what we think we know about her is true, she'll adapt. Do what is necessary to get her through this, but the SWRB's counteragent is not an option."
Claire nodded while Bobby hid his surprise. He'd half-expected the Official to be glad to find a control that worked on the kid, and was oddly pleased to hear the Official say he wanted no part of it. "We'll do what we can, Chief."
"Good. Now I have to go sell my soul to resolve this issue." The Official glanced one last time into the padded room before leaving to go pull more strings to get out of this corner they'd been backed into.
Claire sighed and leaned against the wall. She looked exhausted and Bobby wished he could do more to help. "Claire, you need to get some rest. Go crash in the kid's office, if nothing else. She won't mind." He moved closer to her, one of his hands sneaking into hers and squeezing gently. "Maybe I'll join you in a bit."
That earned him a small smile. "I still have things to do, but... maybe. Give me an hour and I'll let you know. All right?" She sounded unsure, both of herself and his reaction.
"Keepy, if you join me, I can guarantee you'll relax for a while." He gave her that wicked smile that he knew could break down her resolve on almost anything, and threw in an eyebrow wiggle for comedic value. It was effective and she laughed, some of the tension already easing from the lines of her body. He stepped closer and kissed her lightly, feeling her relax even more, responding to the slow movement of his lips against hers as well as the hand that had snaked behind her neck to draw her closer. When he released her and backed away, she stared at him in astonishment and obvious desire. That very nearly drove him to kiss her again, but being at work and all kept him reluctantly in place. He loved it when that veneer of scientific objectivity melted away and revealed the woman beneath.
"Bobby," she got out a bit breathlessly.
"Work, Claire. The kid. Fawkes. Remember?" he teased and she smiled again.
"Yes, of course. I'll talk to you later, Bobby." She freed her hand from his with great reluctance and gathered her things before leaving the viewing room.
"Ummm, yeah, Keepy. We'll 'talk' later," Bobby muttered to himself as he turned to look back into the padded room. Flipping a switch, he started the recorder just in case the bastard had anything he wanted to say for posterity. He could have dimmed the lights, but, even though he was pretty sure the guy was torture-resistant, he left them on just to annoy him. Maybe lack of sleep would make him a bit more cooperative. As he left, he made sure the agents who'd be guarding the room were prepared for just about any contingency, and knew to contact him and not the Official if there was a problem.
Heading to the Keep, he thought he'd see how Fawkes was doing in person. He found his partner pacing back and forth on a pair of crutches, while Claire cajoled Alyx into allowing another blood sample to be drawn. "Hey, partner. Why the big secret about the upright thing?" he asked, hoping to distract Fawkes from his worried pacing.
Darien stopped and lowered himself into the nearest chair, as his legs weren't in the mood to hold him for much longer. He was getting very tired, and his headache was beginning to seriously steal his focus. "I wanted to do it on my own. That's all." Well, it was a partial truth at least.
"Maybe not the best move, Fawkes. You had the kid so worried she's been snooping around the SWRB to find anything she can to keep them away from you." Bobby kept his voice low and hoped Alyx wouldn't overhear. "You gave her back the ring and then tossed her aside. Not the most brilliant of tactics to keep a woman."
Darien rubbed the back of his neck and took a moment to calm down, instead of getting to his feet and shouting at Bobby, which is what he wanted to do. He was having a hard time hiding his irritation from everyone, but luckily they were so worried about Alyx at this point they'd probably log any lapses off to his being upset instead of thinking it might be the gland. "And what could she have done to help, Bobby? Walked for me?" That came out harsher than he'd intended. "She had work to do, with you."
Bobby took a step back. "Fawkes, you all right? 'Cause if I didn't know better I'd say you were in need of a shot right about now." He looked his partner over carefully, but when there was no witty or snarky comeback to his commentary, he let it slide. Fawkes was probably feeling a bit guilty about keeping the kid away, as well as being worried about her now. Not the best combination to induce calm, rational discussion. "Look, it's done, over with, water under the bridge.... You aren't planning on letting her get away, are you?"
"No, Bobby, not so long as she'll put up with me. I had to figure out a few things is all," Darien answered quietly. True enough, though he had found it very difficult to go through everything alone. Claire had been as supportive as she could be, but she was also his doctor. She'd been the one putting him through the ringer, just so he could manage to walk a few steps unassisted after only a couple of weeks. She was the one who'd strapped the electrodes to his legs, zapping him with electricity to teach him how to walk again. The one who had listened to him bitch and groan about how much it hurt, even while he was silently thanking her for putting up with him. She had told no one, at his request, except maybe the 'Fish, though he'd expected that. She had also come over several nights a week to run him through even more torture, so that he could walk that much sooner. And all so that he'd be able to face Alyx and apologize for everything while standing on his own two feet, and so that there was, maybe, a chance he could stop whatever was coming.
Well, it was looking like he'd failed all the way around. Instead of keeping his distance so that he could regain some confidence, he should have just accepted her help, allowed her to comfort him, and perhaps comforted her a bit as well. When she had stopped by to see him, or talked to him here at work, he'd made a point of being very noncommittal about anything, acting like he didn't desperately want her by his side, like he didn't want her help, or even her. And now look at what had happened -- she had worked herself so hard that she'd put herself in harm's way to protect him, and now she was the one who needed help.
"Crap," he muttered mostly to himself. "I hate when I screw up."
"Fawkes, you should be used to it by now," Bobby said with a straight face. "The rest of us are."
"Gee, thanks, partner," Darien gave him a smile, even as he tried to ignore the pounding of his head. "Claire, you done with her yet?"
There was the sound of glass shattering and the gurney suddenly rolled at them. Bobby caught it before it could crash into the row of computers lining the table. He turned to look at Darien. "I think she's done."
Claire came out then, looking flustered. "Quite done. I want her to stay here. I'm going to run a few more tests." She looked back over her shoulder as something else was slammed rather violently and noisily by Alyx.
"I'll stay with her." Darien didn't bother waiting for her to ask. "Though sustenance would be nice."
"I'll handle the food," Bobby offered. "I need to baby-sit our friend from the SWRB, anyhow." He rubbed his forehead. "It's gonna be a long night."
Alyx stepped out where they could see her. "You have no idea, Bobby. No idea at all."