Zack awoke from another bad dream. At one time he had wondered what could possibly be worse than the 'I can't move' nightmares. He'd found out that waking up, and still not being able to move was worse. Things had gone down hill from there. As his condition stabilized, he and his life-support equipment were monitored less often. With no one moving around him, it was far too easy for him to lose track of time, space, and any sort of coherent thought. Now that he'd been moved to a new place, he thought they were only checking in once a day.
He stared up at the acoustic tile ceiling. Not even an insect or two for distraction. For the three thousand, four hundred and ninety-second time, he wondered about his sanity. He was sure of that number. "X-5s are good with details," he told himself. He thought about all the other things that X-5s were good at, none of which he could do while strapped down and connected to machines. He might as well be dead.
The sound of footsteps in the hall caught his attention. "Can't be the security guard. . . too slow . . . trying to be quiet." The steps paused, and the door creaked open.
"Oh Hell," said a familiar voice. The door closed again. Zack could hear the man's heart racing, and the soft sigh of air rushing into and out of the man's lungs as he moved around the room.
"Lydecker, you bastard!" Zack tried to scream. He wasn't even in control of his own breathing anymore, and plastic tubing was pressed against his vocal cords. No sound. "You left me here."
"They don't come by to chat much?" asked Lydecker, who's face moved into Zack's field of view. Zack's best guess was that the expression was pity.
Zack swiveled his eyes from left to right, the closest he could get to shaking his head 'no'. The older man's jaw tightened, and Zack recognized anger. Something was going to happen now.
"Max escaped," said Lydecker, who moved out of view again. "And the place burned down. It's a big mess, and lost and lonely X series kids are all over the place." There was a long pause, then from somewhere in what must be a far corner of the room. "Gorilla named White is in charge of cleaning up the mess, and he's been working on terminating the lot of them. I guess he just hasn't bothered with you yet."
Zack listened to the sound of fingers on a keyboard, and the scrape of plastic against a mouse pad. "Morse code," he thought. "My only hope for escape."
When Lydecker reappeared, Zack was ready. A long blink, a short, a long blink, pause, two short.... "K-I-L-L-M-E"
Lydecker blinked back in surprise. "No one has bothered to discuss your condition with you?"
Zack's eyes swiveled left and right. "K-I-L-L-M-E" he repeated. "P-U-L-L-P-L-U-G."
"You are an X-5," Lydecker replied, turning away. "It might not be that simple."
Zack relaxed as the sounds of machinery ceased, one by one. Soon it would all be over. Air wasn't being forced into his lungs. Blood wasn't being pumped through his veins. All the oxygen would be gone soon. He could die in peace and quiet. Lydecker was studying him carefully, but Zack didn't care anymore.
He gasped for air, by reflex, and realized that he'd just managed to suck in some oxygen that hadn't been through that stupid machine first. A small triumph, but the best he could hope for now. Just a matter of waiting for the end.
Zack was surprised to hear the familiar steps of one of the security guards in the hall. He tried to blink, to get Lydecker's attention, but the old man was looking at something else, over to the side where Zack couldn't see.
The door opened, and Lydecker vanished from Zack's view again. Zack remembered that tunnel vision was one of the signs of oxygen deprivation, and was strangely pleased to notice his field of view closing in.
"What are you doing here?" Zack realized he'd never heard the security guard's voice before. "This is a secure area."
"You can put the gun down, Son," said Lydecker calmly. "I was just telling stories to my old friend here." His voice and footsteps were moving away, towards the door, and Zack thought he heard the tip of a cane against the floor. "He's remarkably polite. Never interrupts."
"Hold it!" snapped the guard. Zack heard the cane clatter to the floor.
The gun shot felt like it was caving in his eardrums. The ringing in his ears made him wonder if he'd heard a body hit the floor or not, but he couldn't deny the sound of pain behind him. He could see bits of dust floating down from the ceiling, hanging in the air current.
Zack decided that he didn't really care how the wrestling match he was hearing came out. He was still breathing under his own power, but it was making him tired, and he could sleep. The sound of fracturing neck vertebrae surprised him, but it was followed by quiet.
"Max is OK, and I'm going to die peacefully in bed, sort of," thought Zack happily as his eyes closed.
"Six minutes, fifty-seven seconds," said Lydecker's voice, somewhere off to the right. The sounds of the machines came back, one by one. Zack was breathing filtered, forced air again.
"You are an amazing piece of engineering, Zack. Doppler ultrasound scans from two weeks ago show that you are growing a functioning heart." Zack was annoyed. His vision was clearing, and it was obvious that he was going to be stuck here, staring at the ceiling, forever.
"It's a long way from being full size, and it isn't strong enough to keep you going all by itself, yet. Trouble is, I can't get you out. I'm here by myself." Lydecker sighed. "I'll tell Max where you are, but once your keepers realize that we know, it's going to be a lot harder to get in and get you."
"I need to go. Someone had a really good try at killing me, and I can't escape and evade with the speed that the situation requires." His hand rested on Zack's shoulder for just a moment.
"Three months," thought Zack. "Gets me a heart that's good for six minutes and fifty-seven seconds worth of oxygen." He realized he could start planning an escape now. It would take a long time to plan, but sanity wasn't going to be a problem anymore.
Zack had a mission.
He stared up at the acoustic tile ceiling. Not even an insect or two for distraction. For the three thousand, four hundred and ninety-second time, he wondered about his sanity. He was sure of that number. "X-5s are good with details," he told himself. He thought about all the other things that X-5s were good at, none of which he could do while strapped down and connected to machines. He might as well be dead.
The sound of footsteps in the hall caught his attention. "Can't be the security guard. . . too slow . . . trying to be quiet." The steps paused, and the door creaked open.
"Oh Hell," said a familiar voice. The door closed again. Zack could hear the man's heart racing, and the soft sigh of air rushing into and out of the man's lungs as he moved around the room.
"Lydecker, you bastard!" Zack tried to scream. He wasn't even in control of his own breathing anymore, and plastic tubing was pressed against his vocal cords. No sound. "You left me here."
"They don't come by to chat much?" asked Lydecker, who's face moved into Zack's field of view. Zack's best guess was that the expression was pity.
Zack swiveled his eyes from left to right, the closest he could get to shaking his head 'no'. The older man's jaw tightened, and Zack recognized anger. Something was going to happen now.
"Max escaped," said Lydecker, who moved out of view again. "And the place burned down. It's a big mess, and lost and lonely X series kids are all over the place." There was a long pause, then from somewhere in what must be a far corner of the room. "Gorilla named White is in charge of cleaning up the mess, and he's been working on terminating the lot of them. I guess he just hasn't bothered with you yet."
Zack listened to the sound of fingers on a keyboard, and the scrape of plastic against a mouse pad. "Morse code," he thought. "My only hope for escape."
When Lydecker reappeared, Zack was ready. A long blink, a short, a long blink, pause, two short.... "K-I-L-L-M-E"
Lydecker blinked back in surprise. "No one has bothered to discuss your condition with you?"
Zack's eyes swiveled left and right. "K-I-L-L-M-E" he repeated. "P-U-L-L-P-L-U-G."
"You are an X-5," Lydecker replied, turning away. "It might not be that simple."
Zack relaxed as the sounds of machinery ceased, one by one. Soon it would all be over. Air wasn't being forced into his lungs. Blood wasn't being pumped through his veins. All the oxygen would be gone soon. He could die in peace and quiet. Lydecker was studying him carefully, but Zack didn't care anymore.
He gasped for air, by reflex, and realized that he'd just managed to suck in some oxygen that hadn't been through that stupid machine first. A small triumph, but the best he could hope for now. Just a matter of waiting for the end.
Zack was surprised to hear the familiar steps of one of the security guards in the hall. He tried to blink, to get Lydecker's attention, but the old man was looking at something else, over to the side where Zack couldn't see.
The door opened, and Lydecker vanished from Zack's view again. Zack remembered that tunnel vision was one of the signs of oxygen deprivation, and was strangely pleased to notice his field of view closing in.
"What are you doing here?" Zack realized he'd never heard the security guard's voice before. "This is a secure area."
"You can put the gun down, Son," said Lydecker calmly. "I was just telling stories to my old friend here." His voice and footsteps were moving away, towards the door, and Zack thought he heard the tip of a cane against the floor. "He's remarkably polite. Never interrupts."
"Hold it!" snapped the guard. Zack heard the cane clatter to the floor.
The gun shot felt like it was caving in his eardrums. The ringing in his ears made him wonder if he'd heard a body hit the floor or not, but he couldn't deny the sound of pain behind him. He could see bits of dust floating down from the ceiling, hanging in the air current.
Zack decided that he didn't really care how the wrestling match he was hearing came out. He was still breathing under his own power, but it was making him tired, and he could sleep. The sound of fracturing neck vertebrae surprised him, but it was followed by quiet.
"Max is OK, and I'm going to die peacefully in bed, sort of," thought Zack happily as his eyes closed.
"Six minutes, fifty-seven seconds," said Lydecker's voice, somewhere off to the right. The sounds of the machines came back, one by one. Zack was breathing filtered, forced air again.
"You are an amazing piece of engineering, Zack. Doppler ultrasound scans from two weeks ago show that you are growing a functioning heart." Zack was annoyed. His vision was clearing, and it was obvious that he was going to be stuck here, staring at the ceiling, forever.
"It's a long way from being full size, and it isn't strong enough to keep you going all by itself, yet. Trouble is, I can't get you out. I'm here by myself." Lydecker sighed. "I'll tell Max where you are, but once your keepers realize that we know, it's going to be a lot harder to get in and get you."
"I need to go. Someone had a really good try at killing me, and I can't escape and evade with the speed that the situation requires." His hand rested on Zack's shoulder for just a moment.
"Three months," thought Zack. "Gets me a heart that's good for six minutes and fifty-seven seconds worth of oxygen." He realized he could start planning an escape now. It would take a long time to plan, but sanity wasn't going to be a problem anymore.
Zack had a mission.
