Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy
By AntipodeanOpaleye
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Wow, Chapter Four. I apologize for the delay. First I want to thank Johan for looking over this chapter before it was posted, and giving me the suggestions I needed to get to work on this. Thank You SOOO Much!!! Also, to all of my reviewers, you are pretty much the only reason this went farther than another abandoned one chapter piece. You are all so awesome!
Anyway, this chapter is still leading up to more interesting things, so, if your bored, I promise more action in the upcoming chapters. I have more to say, but if I say it now, I'll give away parts of the chapter. So, read the AN at the bottom for some more explanations and such.
Anyway, hope you like it!
Chapter Four: Beyond Vague
"Hey boys, look what the cat drug in," Mole said with as much of a smile as he could achieve, being the pessimist he was, when Max strode into Command, Alec sauntering in behind her. "Sorry Max, uh, no pun intended," he added at the odd look she directed his way in response to the feline comparison.
"Hey Alec. Max," Dix said, looking up from his computer. Luke and Josh were absent from the group, Joshua having gone to help Gem with the baby, and Luke having tagged along to assist them.
"Dix, how's is going buddy?" Alec asked as he walked over to him a clapped on the shoulder.
"Pretty well, actually," Dix reported with a grin. "I've been looking up a lot of things pertaining to the cause," he shot a pointed look Alec's way when no one was looking, and Alec gave a discreet nod.
Dix knew that Alec didn't want Max, or anyone, for that matter, knowing about some of the things he'd asked Dix to look into for him. And Dix was happy to help. He really liked Alec. Alec respected him, as he did with all of the other transgenics in Terminal City. Not that he didn't like Max or some of the others, or that they didn't treat him well. It was just that there was something about Alec that was, different. He was so much more laid back, so much more sociable and friendly, and so much more appreciative of everyone and everything they did. Dix would even say that Alec was probably the most loyal and, ironic as it seemed, dependable transgenic he knew. Fate just didn't seem to favor him very much. Alec was definitely the most good-hearted person Dix knew, and he knew quite a wide variety of people.
"Great," Alec said in response to Dix's announcement. "I'll come by later and see what you've got so far."
"Sounds great," Dix replied knowingly, looking forward to sharing the information with Alec. He was quite proud of what he'd come up with, to say the least.
"Alec," Mole called him over to the other side of the room, away from Max, who had now taken Alec's place in speaking to Dix. Alec made his way over to him promptly.
"Yeah?" Alec asked the lizard-like man in front of him.
"Look, Dix was thinking about asking Max about this, but we didn't know if she could, uh, 'handle it'," Mole emphasized his last words, making it clear that he seriously doubted Max's ability to correctly take care of whatever situation was at hand.
"What is it?" Alec asked, pinning Mole with a strange glance.
"Well," Mole sighed in irritated exasperation, "Me and Josh were out this morning, you know, making supply deliveries and that type of thing. And we found the body of one of the Ordinaries outside some new outlet we found, after Joshua tracked the scent and all. We got the body out of sight before anyone saw it, as far as we know. Looked like there was only a small group manning the area. There were quite a few of them knocked out, too," Mole paused and Alec took the opportunity to add to the one sided conversation.
"Did they come around? Were they all right?" Alec somewhat asked urgently, feeling increasingly guilty for what he'd done to them, even though he'd had no choice. In Mole's opinion, Alec sounded a slight bit too urgent. Any other transgenic wouldn't have thought twice about such questions. Mole, on the other hand, wasn't any other transgenic. Mole didn't tolerate sympathy for the death or injury of Ordinaries, and he had his valid reasons, though what they were, few people were aware of. And so, when someone like Alec showed such an emotion, Mole was more than tempted to press the topic. But he let it slide, resolving to bring it up later in the discussion.
"Yeah, they did, eventually. With a little help. We got Dalton, you know, the X6 kid from Jam Pony?" Alec nodded and Mole continued.
"We got him to come over when they woke up, you know, told 'em that they got into some of those chemicals around here on accident and it knocked 'em out cold. Told 'em they might be delusional for a while. Well, I was right when I said Ordinaries will believe anything," Mole referred to one of him infamous assumptions of the humans, "'cause those guys bought it; hook, line, and sinker." Alec remembered Dalton having casually said that he'd excelled in persuasive techniques back and Manticore, which was to him obvious now. "Didn't take 'em long to leave after that. Why d'ya ask?" Mole questioned him curiously.
"No reason," Alec said, eyeing Mole almost dangerously, though not quite. Mole wasn't swayed.
"What was it? Why would you care about what happened with them?" Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Mole cut him off. "And don't go sayin' that shit about exposure and bad publicity for us. There's more to it than that. And I wanna know what that more is."
If it were any other pair in Terminal City, things would most likely have turned physically violent at this point. But Alec was the only person Mole seriously trusted in TC, and Alec had, for some strange reason, had taken a liking to Mole and his exaggerated 'wage war' attitude. And so, Alec sighed and prepared to explain what had happened to Mole. But Mole wasn't exactly a patient transgenic, and had already resumed his tirade, trying to convince Alec to spill his story.
"You know who did it, don't you? It was obviously the work of an X5," Mole prodded. "Someone you knew from back at Manticore, perhaps, one of your own unit?" Mole contemplated his next comment, hoping to push Alec just that slight bit too far in order to persuade him to tell. Deliver a blow that he was sure would shock Alec's manly pride. "One of your superiors, maybe? A Commanding Officer?"
Alec's head whipped around as he turned to face Mole head on. His eyes were angry, yet somehow, guilty. Almost desperate. But his voice was even, though cutting.
"There were no transgenics at the Manticore compound who were considered my superiors. Or at least, none that I was required to answer to. And I have no reason to cover for anyone anymore. Those kinds of things don't matter anymore."
Mole maintained eye contact with Alec, and could tell there was more to the situation than that. So, being the demanding type of person he was, he pushed on.
"That ain't it Alec. What are you turning on us? Sympathizing with the enemy?" Mole could've stopped there, and he was well aware of that. But Mole was one of those people who enjoy exaggerations and love to jump to conclusions. Drastic conclusions. And though Alec was the last person he would expect, he had to be sure. He needed to go in for the kill, even though he regretted what he'd need to say in order to do so.
"Maybe you've gone past sympathizing, Alec. Maybe you're with them. Maybe you're the traitor. I mean, it's bad enough Max trusts Cale so damn much. But it's a hell of a lot worse when you go beyond trusting. And you should know that we transgenics don't punish treason lightly."
That was the last straw for Alec. He spun around and grabbed Mole by the collar. "What the hell is your problem Alec?" Mole hissed, thought he was somewhat surprised at Alec's strength.
"Dammit, Mole!" Alec lashed back. "I took them out. I killed that guy. I did it!" Alec's breathing was erratic as he held Mole, his arm shaking slightly in rage. Then, he simply let go. Mole stumbled slightly as Alec's grip was released, watching Alec lean dependently on the nearby wall, throwing his head back against it. He closed his eyes and caught his breath while Mole simply continued to stand there and watch.
"What other transgenic would have taken the time not to simply kill those people? It takes some concentration and precision to be sure they woke up with some sort of memory loss instead of just tossing those weaklings around like a damn ragdoll," Alec said through clenched teeth. And then, in such a small voice that Mole had to strain to hear it. "This isn't me anymore."
"What?" Mole asked.
"Killing people. I mean, had they died, they would have deserved it. They shot at us first. But I didn't want to kill them. I don't want any more blood on my hands. There's too much there already," Alec's voice was quiet as he spoke.
"What if they threatened one of us?" Mole asked, wanting to know exactly where Alec stood in all of this, as long as he'd already gotten himself knee-deep into the subject. "What if they threatened Max?"
Alec looked up, his face set, his eyes determined. "I'd kill 'em without a second thought. Like the guy that was dead out there. He was a Familiar. And he died at my hand, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Mole said, somewhat surprised that Alec had taken out a Familiar single handedly that morning.
"This whole cause is my life now, Mole. I've learned better than to throw away something like that. I wouldn't betray this. I wouldn't have anything left." Alec was embarrassed at what he'd said, but there was nothing else that he could have said, and he knew that. But he still wasn't sure why the hell he'd come out and said something like that. Said it to Mole, no less. He sighed once more, waiting for Mole's undoubtedly sarcastically mocking reply. What he got was quite different.
"I, um, I'm," Mole sputtered uncharacteristically. "I'm, uh, sorry, Alec. I didn't know."
Alec looked strangely at Mole, wondering if Mole had a clone that had come and taken his place, because such a reaction was definitely not going to come from the Mole he knew. But, logically speaking, Alec seriously doubted that the anomalies would have been twinned, and so he moved away from the wall and approached Mole.
"It's all right," Alec said sincerely. And, having learned such an action from his friend Sketchy, bumped fists with Mole. Mole chuckled in his rough sort of way at the motion, but complied. "Oh, and do me a favor. Let's keep this between you and me, all right?" And with a nod, Mole turned to leave.
"And Mole?" Alec called at the lizard man's retreating back. "Do something with the body."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Garret. Garret. Garret, wake up. Garret!"
It was when his wife's singsong voice had turned harsh that he thought it wise to pull himself out of bed. Though he still wasn't happy about it.
"Ugh," Garret groaned irritably, refusing to open his eyes. He buried his head stubbornly into his pillow. "You do know that not all X5s are into wake up calls, right?"
"I happen to know for a fact that you never slept in back at Manticore," the female voice called from the bathroom across the room. "And besides, it's already 7:30. That isn't even remotely early."
"Maybe not for you!" Garret continued to complain. "Honestly, Brin. I haven't had a decent night sleep since we've been married!"
"But not entirely because I prefer that your lazy ass gets out of bed at a decent time, correct?" Brin stuck her head out of the bathroom, a wry grin on her face, which was only halfway made up, which gave her the amusing look of a very attractive clown. Garret fought the urge to laugh, knowing that if he did, he'd pay for it later.
"Of course not!" Garret replied, feigning offense. "But seriously, Bri. Just because you were Renfro's right hand woman and were up at all hours of the night doesn't mean the rest did the same."
"Don't remind me," Brin muttered, referring to her time at Manticore with Renfro. Garret knew how much it bothered her.
After the DNA database had been destroyed, Brin had been put in solitary for a week in punishment for allowing 452 to get away. And then, she'd been shipped off to join Renfro at the Seattle facility. She'd been stripped of her responsibilities to the Director and had been thrown into one of the Special Ops units, all of whom trained together, without interaction with the other X5s. Garret, or X5-841 as he was at the time, had been her Commanding Officer. And he'd been somewhat attracted to her from the moment she'd joined their group. But her reindoctrination had been harsh, and the loss of her status had been a tough blow for her. So when the facility had been compromised, Brin had resolved to stay behind. But Garret was about to have any of his unit's deaths on his hands, least of all Brin's. And so, after subduing the feisty X5, he escaped the flames with Brin in his arms. He'd gotten as far as a small, run down motel about ten klicks or so north, northeast from the Manticore site. He'd rented a room after knocking over one of the small general stores nearby. And there he'd waited for Brin to come around. He still remembered what had happened when she finally did.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What the hell are you doing?" Brin shrieked in anger at her Commanding Officer, who was taking a look at the large gash that marred her right leg.
"Yeah, good morning to you, too," 841 drawled sarcastically. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
Brin dismissed his comments. "Where the hell are we?"
"In Bora Bora, sweetheart. Ya better turn over, you're startin' to burn."
"Don't play smart ass," Brin shot back.
"Where does it look like we are?" 841 shouted at her. "We're in a motel. A shitty motel, at that. And you were injured on the way here, and I was taking a look at the wound. Is that a crime?"
"And if it is? I didn't want out. I should've gone down with command," she snapped back at him.
"Now I can see why Renfro didn't want you around. You're mentally unstable."
"Damn you!" Brin cried out as she leaped up, ready to smack her former CO. Well, at least, she attempted to leap, though due to injury, she stumbled back onto the bed with a small whimper.
"Careful," 841's voice was gentle, yet reprimanding. "We've only been here for a few hours. You'll be good as new in the morning."
"Whatever you say," Brin muttered irritatedly, knowing he was right.
"That's right. Whatever I say."
"Men," Brin rolled her eyes as she made the remark.
"We are fabulous creatures, aren't we?" 841's voice was audacious.
"Fabulously incompetent, fabulously annoying, shall I continue?"
"No, your voice is giving me a migraine," 841 rubbed his forehead.
"We're going to have to look for any signs of the reestablishment of command," Brin commented distractedly.
"What? They tried to kill us!"
"What are you talking about?" Brin countered. "They were trying to protect the site!"
"My ass," 841 retaliated. "They were blatantly shooting at us! Manticore isn't all roses without the thorns, 734! In fact, the bad often outweighs the good where they're concerned. And damn! You're an '09 escapee! Even your reindoctrination couldn't have wiped all of the obstinacy from that pretty little head!"
And Brin was silent. She appeared to have been stricken by his words. Her face went pale, her bottom lip began to tremble, and she began to sob uncontrollably. And, not knowing what else to do, 841 wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to him until the both fell asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
841, now Garret, in likeness to his mission alias, had taken care of Brin throughout her confusion. And, once she was able to stand on her own two feet, and able to recall the valid reasons for her escape in '09. And after she'd been able to hold her own once more as well as any transgenic could, he decided to leave her to herself.
But, ironically, Brin wasn't very fond of that idea.
And so, they'd stayed together and later married, settling just outside Spokane. And they'd been happy together. Except for the occasional minor breakdown on Brin's part, mostly due to her anguish over what she'd done to her family after she'd been recaptured by Manticore. It was because of this that she never attempted to find the siblings she escaped with so long ago.
Garret rolled over onto his side, searching blindly for the television remote control on the nightstand next to him. After locating it, he turned the news on.
The female reporter for Channel 8 News was just finishing up her account.
"For those of you only just tuning in to this Special Report," she droned, "we are here bringing you coverage of the Transgenic Siege at Terminal City."
"Brin," Garret called to her. "You should come in and see this." He'd heard bits and pieces about the transgenic situation in Seattle, but nothing solid. And honestly, he hadn't wanted to go to any trouble to try and find out anything more about it. He didn't want to get killed, to get Brin killed, any more than the next guy. But as far as he could tell, things were heating up dangerously. And he couldn't just abandon his own kind. And when it came down to it, he knew Brin felt the same way.
"What is." Brin began as she emerged from the bathroom, her makeup now complete. She stopped short as she saw the familiar scene the woman was reporting on.
"We're going to flash those photos again," the reporter informed her television audience. These two transgenics, X5s to be more specific, are believed to be heading the siege together."
And, as expected, the regular photos of Max and Alec appeared side by side on the screen.
"If you have any information on these two transgenics, you are encouraged to inform Sector Police immediately as this pair of X5s are considered to be highly dangerous."
Garret turned the television off abruptly, noticing the almost sick look on his wife's face.
"What's the matter, Brin?" he asked.
"That's Max, and, Ben. But Ben's dead."
"Max and Ben, as in, your siblings, Max and Ben?" Garret asked, disconcerting the fact that Ben was supposedly dead for the moment.
"Yeah," Brin replied in a breathless whispered, whatever color was left in her usually tanned skin disappearing.
"What are you going to do about it?" Garret asked bluntly.
"I don't know," Brin said, fear lacing her voice.
"Why are you so scared of them, Brin?" Garret asked. "They love you. It wasn't your fault that Manticore got you. You didn't have a choice in what they did to you. You can't be accountable for your actions while you were under their influence. They won't hold that against you."
And with her next words, Brin surprised her husband. "You're right."
"And?" Garret pushed her.
"We leave ASAP," Brin answered, determined. "We won't desert out kind. I won't do that again. Not again."
And with that, she went to her dresser to pack some of the necessary items she would take. Garret smiled at his wife and rose to do the same.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So," Jondy said after Zane had explained his plan. "You want me to come with you to Seattle in order to help save all of the wayward transgenics."
Zane smiled as he leaned back in his seat. "More or less."
They'd long since left the benches they'd occupied and had gone to a nearby coffee shop to grab a drink. At this point they were finishing the last of their almost flavorless purchases.
"It'll take a day or so with Sector Checkpoints and such," Jondy commented as she lifted her cup to her lips. "It's just going to be us, right?"
"Yeah," Zane replied quietly.
"What about the others?"
"I don't have a clue where they are," Zane whispered. "I mean, me and you hooked up, same with Krit and Syl. No one else knew, except,"
"Zack," they finished together. They sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on their CO, whom had done so much for them, but had paid so high a price.
"Maybe they'll have already gotten to Terminal City," Zane said hopefully.
"And what about those two shots they keep putting on the news, the supposed leaders of the transgenic nation or whatever," Jondy said. "Don't you think the look familiar?"
"They look like Max and Ben," Zane said slowly. "But Ben's," he didn't have to finish to have his point across.
"I know," Jondy whispered. "But you're right. We need to go. To at least see if we can do anything to help them. That's our people. We can't just desert them."
"I agree." Zane replied. "We have to go." He sighed. "When?"
"As soon as we can get out," Jondy shot back. "I don't have anything here. It's your call."
"I guess we should go shopping for a car," Zane said with a grin, not having hot-wired a car for quite some time.
Jondy smiled broadly as she stood from the booth and walked slowly toward the door. "Read my mind."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Krit!" Syl complained as she trudged behind him as they made their way through the woods along the highway. "What is your problem! We could've very easily stolen a car, or couple of bikes! But walk? All the way to Seattle? You've got to be kidding me!"
Krit sighed in exasperation. "Syl, how many times have I explained this to you? We don't know what kind of security or precautions they're taking against the transgenics up here. We can't risk it. We'll be there by sundown, if everything goes according to plan."
"Whatever, Krit." Syl spat out in disgust. "Whatever."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Senator McKinley, please," Ames White spoke into his cell phone.
"May I ask who's calling?" the young secretary asked automatically.
"Special Agent Ames White," he replied suavely. He kind of liked the way that sounded. Though the thought of when he'd last used the title brought back somewhat embarrassing memories for the youngish, male Familiar.
"One moment please, sir," the woman said as she forwarded him through to the Senator himself.
"McKinley," the middle aged senator answered the call stiffly.
"Fe'nos tol," White replied casually.
It was obvious in his voice that McKinley relaxed considerably upon the greeting. "Fe'nos tol."
"Tough day?" White inquired sarcastically.
McKinley chuckled slightly. "You could say that." Then, more seriously, "Dr. Sandeman certainly went out of his way to make trouble for us when he created these transgenics. They're going to give us a run for our money, Ames."
"Unfortunately," White replied.
"Will he talk? Have you gotten anything out of him about his time with the transgenics?" McKinley asked, referring to C.J.
"Nothing. I've tried everything I can think of. And we can't afford to kill him; the information he has is most likely indispensable." White answered disgustedly. "But we can't wait forever. We're running out of time."
"I know, Ames." McKinley said, exasperated. "But there is something you need to know."
White knew that whatever it was that McKinley was going to tell him, it was most likely far from good. "I'm listening."
"The transgenics haven't a clue about what awaits them in the future. Dr. Sandeman is the only we that we know of that is aware of the Coming in its entirety. As of as recently as last week, we had him pinpointed at a specific location where we had been keeping an eye on him from a distance. But as of last night, he was no where to be found at this location. We have no idea where he might be, though we assume that he will try to establish contact, whether in person or otherwise, with the transgenics. He's an intelligent man, Ames, and he has more knowledge on our cause than most, as well as an infinite supply of information on the transgenics. The Conclave is unsure whether we will be able to stop him should he attempt to warn the transgenics."
"Why do I sense a but coming here?" White asked sardonically.
"It is the opinion of The Conclave that regardless if we can deter Sandeman from successfully alerting the transgenics, we should at least be aware of what exactly he decides to divulge. And when. This is where you come in, Ames."
"They want you to send someone inside. They are to pose as a transgenic in as convincible a fashion as possible for as long as they can maintain the cover. They are to take no actions to expose themselves, and if they must destroy their own in the process, so be it. They are to inflict no harm on the transgenics inside, or Sandeman should he arrive. But it is imperative that once we formulate a plan of retaliation, your insider will need to be terminated."
"I'm not quite sure," White started, but was cut off.
"Neither am I, Ames. These orders came from high up. Even I am not sure about this motion is supposed to accomplish. But I do advise you to be prompt, and refrain from asking any further questions unless they absolutely necessary."
"I understand," Ames answered coldly, though somewhat dejectedly. If it weren't for his father, he would most likely already have a ranking in the The Conclave. But, as it was, he wasn't quite there yet. Someday, but not right then. He did have his position of succession secured, after all. At least he wasn't the rookie who was going to be doomed to pose as one of those pieces of transgenic filth. Now there was a comforting thought.
"Good. It is to your benefit that you do. To the benefit of us all."
"Fe'nos tol," White replied, ready to end the talk.
"I will be in contact with you Ames. Very soon. Fe' nes tol." And with that, the Senator cut the conversation off.
White closed his cell and slipped it back into the pocket of the jacket of his suit. He leaned back in his very comfortable office chair, swinging his legs up to rest on the desk in front of him. He threw his head back and sighed. This was not going as planned. Nothing was. First it was the transgenics. Then it was Wendy. Then Ray. And now this.
There was a soft knock on the solid oak door across the room. White removed his legs from the desktop and returned to a sitting position.
"Come in," he said in his characteristic voice that made him sound superior. And not a single person at the agency had questioned that implied superiority to date.
"Sir?" the young man asked as he eased open the door, though before entering the office.
"Otto," White said in a much more welcoming tone than he'd used before. Somehow, he'd taken a strange sort of liking to the young operative that had been assigned to the transgenic project under his supervision. "What exactly is it that I can do for you?"
Otto closed the door slowly behind him. "Well, sir. We've been searching for more of those Thermal Imagers you wanted, but production was shut down after The Pulse. We've been able to locate a few of the more primitive models, but the sensitivity rate is less than desirable. We're still checking into revamping them with the newer technology, but none of them are in particularly good shape. We have a few dealings in the works with some international agencies, none of which are proving to be highly reliable."
White reclined slightly in his chair and looked at the young agent in front of him. He rotated a pen in his hands distractedly. "And how do we plan on handling the situation?"
"Well sir, we've revoked all of the Imagers that we'd provided Sector Police with. Our total amounts to seventeen all together. Not nearly enough to equip all of the imperative checkpoints, plus a decent radius around Terminal City. And one without the other is simply useless. We have some personnel that are looking into replicating the Imagers, as well as updating the earlier versions we've uncovered. But without the right equipment, they can hardly begin to analyze them, let alone discover whether or not it is even possible to satisfy our demand. And I think you'll agree with me that such technology is going to be hard to come by, and more expensive than the government will be willing to put into this, especially if we aren't positive that it will benefit the cause."
"Otto, my friend, I believe you've got our government's inner workings figured out pretty well." White paused, apparently debating what their plan of action should be.
"Start a search for the equipment we're going to need. International, second hand, wherever you can find it. Look into the Black Market, there should be some dealers down there that can to least point us in the right direction. Give me a report by Friday." When Otto didn't reply, and simply continued to stand in front of the desk, Ames took the initiative to dismiss him.
"That gives you only a little over two days. I suggest you start now."
"Oh! Yes, sir." And with that, Otto left the office. White followed him to the door and locked it as soon as he was out. He walked back to his desk and collapsed into his chair once more.
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a large framed photo of himself, and his son Ray. He smiled solemnly and the picture, remembering the day it had been taken. It had been after he had taken Ray to Brookridge. They'd spent quite a bit of time together after he'd started there, and Ames had enjoyed every minute of it. He'd really never been much a family man before, but when family had presented itself to him in the form of his son Ray, he'd been unable to resist it. Which had made for a harsh blow when 452 had interfered. And because of her, he'd lost his only son. Was Ray even alive? Logically, no, he wasn't. But no real father would give up until they knew for sure. And technically, he wasn't a real father; he was more than that. And so, he would find Ray. If it killed him, he would find his son. And if anything had happened to Ray, he'd make sure 452 would pay.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gill Dallas sat at the small, run-down table in his small farmhouse in what had become the countryside near the boarder of Washington and Oregon. The evening sun was streaming in through the window, illuminating the room. He casually sipped his herbal tea as he read a rural newspaper.
"Gill," his wife Eileen called from the kitchen area, you have a telephone call.
"Be right there," he called back. The phone call bothered him slightly. No one ever bothered to call Gillard Ruffus Dallas, the middle aged farmer who'd been abandoned after the Pulse and had been wandering around with long term amnesia for years. The only reason someone would call would be if they knew who he really was. If they wanted to track him down. If they wanted him dead. But, then again, Donald Lydecker had become extremely paranoid after going into hiding with a new identity.
"Who is it?" he asked his wife quietly as he took the phone. She shrugged casually and walked out of the room to resume the sewing project she had deserted to answer the call.
"Hello?" Lydecker aka Gill spoke into the antique receiver.
"Hi there," a deep, male voice answers on the other end.
"Who is this?" Lydecker asked, somewhat apprehensive.
"Patience, patience. All in good time. As long as you cooperate, no one will get hurt."
"What are you talking about?" Donald asked.
"For the head of a secret government agency, you're pathetic at covering your tracks, Lydecker."
"Who the hell are you?" Lydecker hissed into the phone.
"As I said, all in good time, given you cooperate. Which I suggest you do. You of all people should know what we're capable of doing to ensure that you go along with what we have planned."
"What are you?" Lydecker growled again.
"I'm one of your precious little children, 'Deck. One of your crowning achievements. Your perfect creations. Your scientific mishaps. A child of Manticore. Come to The Olde Towne Motel at midnight. Alone. Wait outside next to the phone booth on the right. Make sure you don't confuse this with the booth on the left. Stay there, don't attract attention. I'll approach you. If you chose not to come, I think you can imagine my planned course of action should the time arrive. Tick tock."
And the line went dead.
Only a few miles away, in the phone booth to the right of The Olde Towne Motel, Zack hung up the phone and walked into the motel, preparing to take a room for the evening. He was ready, and waiting, to have a long impending chat with Donald Lydecker.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Dix," Alec called over to the transhuman, who was sitting behind a computer, later that evening. "Alec," Dix looked up from his work with a grin.
"Got a second?" Alec looked uncomfortably around, scanning the area for people. No one. Mole had gone to take care of that Familiar, Josh and Luke were still helping Gem, Max had gone down to see a few X5 females to talk about some 'girly topic;' children, via the breeding program, no doubt. All of stragglers that used the Command area as means of transport or other such intentions, were, for one reason or another, no where to be found. Which was for the best, because it was imperative that no one but Alec and Dix overheard the conversation.
"Of course," Dix replied, closing the many different windows littering the desktop of the screen. He clicked on multiple different icons, while Alec followed every move and committed it to memory. Each window popped up promptly, and in turn, requested a password for further access.
'tc150'
'trans5'
'chimera658'
'manticore874'
'gentics95'
'freak22'
'jp02'
'familiar78'
'psyops26' ' reindoc47'
"Real original passwords you got there," Alec commented in an undertone. Dix spin around in his chair. He was somewhat surprised that Alec had picked up the passwords, being that Dix took care not to allow such carelessness when dealing with any of the files. He knew what the transgenics were capable of picking up from which angles and at what distances, and he made sure that none of them were able to decipher his typing. But Alec wasn't just any transgenic. Not that it mattered, he would have given Alec the passwords had he asked without question.
"I change them every few days," Dix replied. "Sometimes more often."
Alec nodded approvingly.
"I've found quite a bit information on most of the topics you requested," Dix said as he typed away, never taking his eyes off of the screen, and Alec never looking away. "I've got some stuff from Manticore, hacked into old databases that were obviously transferred to a different server and were never disconnected. There was nothing specifically on The Coming, the runes, or any of Sandeman's personal accounts. Though, with quite a bit of luck, I was able to find most of the other files you wanted." Dix handed him a considerable stack of worm manila folders, each filled with reports from Manticore.
Alec sifted through them. X5-521. "Biggs." X5-599. "Zack." A number of other files were attached together. "The other '09 escapes." X5-452 was separate. "Max." As was X5-493. "Ben." And finally, the file for X5-494. "And me. Thanks Dix. You have no clue," Alec started, but Dix cut him off.
"It's no problem, Alec. Anything for a friend."
Alec smiled as Dix continued.
"I tried to find some things on the Breeding Cult, but I couldn't find anything. I did, however intercept a transmission from somewhere in DC to Senator McKinley. Which brings me to another one of things you asked about. The Familiars have been watching Sandeman for some time at the same location. But he just recently disappeared. That's all I know."
"Wonder where Sandeman's headed." Alec wondered aloud.
Dix nodded. "I got as much as I could of the Ancient Minoan translations as I could find. Here's what I got out of them, just slightly different from what you said Logan had."
Multiple images of Max's rune-filled skin flashed on the screen at high- speed, the runes rearranging themselves into what looked liked multiple sentences and phrases.
"And then you have the new runes." Dix said as he clicked on a small folder icon, revealing new photos, which flashed on the screen and added themselves to the string of meaningless symbols on the screen.
"Not all of the symbols had relevant meanings, or no meaning at all. In which cases I assumed the runes were written not in the tradition Minoan, but in a derivative of the original. So I looked up the translations of the runes in all of the other ancient Greek languages, and I found the most accurate transliteration. It makes for a much more consistent interpretation of the message." Dix clicked a green button on the middle- right of the screen. In an instant, the entire jumble of runes was transcribed into Modern English.
"When the shroud of death covers the face of the earth, the ones whose power is hidden will join together, and join as one to deliver the helpless." Alec read in a whisper. He gaped at Dix, shock written clearly on his features.
"So there's someone else. Max isn't the only one." Alec concluded.
"And my guess is that whoever this person is, they'll have the runes Max has, and those symbols will complete the message." Dix added.
"Do you have any guesses on who it could be?" Alec asked distractedly.
"Well," Dix said, "My guess is that Max is useless without this person. Not only does this person enable her to 'deliver the helpless' so to speak, I think that she depends on this person emotionally. I don't believe that Sandeman would try to force two complete stranger with no existing bond together in such a desperate situation. And I supposed a first guess would be one of her siblings. Maybe her blood brother. But though she cares for them deeply, loves them even, she doesn't depend on them, doesn't need them by her side. So, if you're asking me if I have any idea who this other someone is, I'd say it was you, Alec."
Alec looked dumbfounded at this. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. As realistic as it was, he hadn't thought that it was even remotely possible that *he* was the one Max depended on. That she needed. That he might just be half of the key to saving the world.
Alec picked up the files that he'd laid on a nearby desk and prepared to leave. His eyes darted around the still deserted Command area. He'd forgotten to check for intruders the entire time.
"Don't worry, Alec. No one came in." Dix assured him.
"Thanks Dix," Alec said sincerely, his eyes revealing his confusing, his fright, but also his childish excitement. Dix smiled.
"Anytime Alec. Anytime."
As Alec turned to leave, Dix called out to him.
"Oh. And Alec?"
He looked casually over his shoulder.
"You might be wanting these," Dix said as he threw a small set of keys to the X5. "We found an old studio down by Oak Street. It's in the Fulton Building, third floor, second door on the right."
Alec stopped and turned around, studying the keys in his hand, knowing immediately what was waiting in the room they unlocked. He grinned happily.
"Thank you Dix. I needed this."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Donald Lydecker flashed his Sector Pass distractedly at a passing officer. He was continuously looking over his shoulder, his paranoia getting the best of him. He walked slowly to the phone booth on the right, waiting next to it as he'd been instructed. He pulled the collar of his jacket up to ward off the chilling wind, though it was a futile motion.
He heard something move behind him, but after he'd turned, it was gone. He looked to his left, then to his right, but there was no one in sight.
It was only after the fact that he realized that he should have thought to look upward.
It happened in a split second. There was no warning, no time to think. A figured leaped from above and landed in a catlike position, dangerously close to having crushed Lydecker in its deplaning. It remained in the same feline position for a few moments, a low, angry growl coming from the being as it straightened itself.
"Well, well, well," the male transgenic said in a low, threatening tone. "Looks like Donald Lydecker isn't as formidable as he once was."
"You're an X5," Lydecker responded knowingly, having deduced so by the landing.
"No shit, Sherlock," the man retorted. He stepped forward, revealing himself to the elder of the pair.
"559." Lydecker said in a whisper, a mixture of wonder, fright, and anger lacing his voice.
"Took you long enough," Zack said sarcastically.
"What do you want from me?" Lydecker asked, his voice betraying the hostility he was experiencing. Zack smirked.
"Revenge. Payback. Compensation. Not that you would ever be able to give back what you've taken from us. Your whole life isn't even worth that."
"What are you talking about, 599?" Lydecker demanded condescendingly. He soon realized that was a mistake.
In the blink of an eye, Zack had Lydecker by the neck, holding him powerfully up against the side of the phone booth.
"My name is Zack," he hissed. "Not 599. Not Adam. Zack. See that you remember that." And he let Lydecker fall from his grasp, crumpling to the ground.
"You know what's happening. To us. Our kind. And it's all your fault. All of it. And you're going to help us, whether you like it or not." Zack's eyes burned into Lydecker, so intense it was almost painful.
"I tried to help you," Lydecker choked. "It was the."
"I don't care what you tried to do. The point is that after the fact, you hid. You were a coward, and you know it. And I think that you should accept the chance to redeem yourself that I'm offering."
"What did you have in mind?" Lydecker asked.
"Terminal City need supplies. They need as much help as they can get. They need information on Manticore, and on a whole hell of a lot else. I have a feeling you can help with that."
"They need leadership first," Lydecker pointed out.
"They already have leadership," Zack spat.
"Who?" Lydecker asked, genuinely curious.
"Max and Alec," the names rolled confidently of the X5's tongue.
"Alec?" Lydecker asked, dumbfounded.
"Alec is," Zack tried to remember something about the X5. "Ben's twin."
"X5-494?" Lydecker asked incredulously.
"We aren't numbers, 'Deck." Zack said warningly.
"No matter," Lydecker replied distractedly. "494 and 493 were the only ones with that same genetic sequence. He was," Lydecker began, but Zack cut him off.
"That doesn't matter. You're coming to Seattle, no questions asked. Hey, you might be somewhat valuable to them. I don't know. All I do know is that we can't afford to have you going off and associating with the enemy. If you're just another disposable Ordinary, well, I think you can guess what'll come of that. So I suggest you come along, and keep quiet, while you think of some impressive information to divulge."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alec found the Fulton Building with little trouble; he'd been there once or twice before. The nearby area was pretty much deserted, besides the small group of Xs that were housed a few streets down. It was getting late anyway. The Xs down this way were young, they'd all be out prowling the night at this time.
Alec opened the rusted door of the building slowly, looking around as he walked in. He climbed the old staircase gradually, as if frightened they might cave in. However, he made it safely to the third floor. He walked almost apprehensively to the second door on the right, digging the keys out of his pocket. He jammed one of the identical keys into the lock and turned. He pulled the key back out and reached out to turn the handle. He paused briefly, the pushed the door open.
He took in everything about the room, which had obviously been fixed up recently. He grinned slightly at the thought of Luke, Dix, and Mole cleaning the small room. It had undoubtedly been a studio at one time; the design was definitely meant to cater to dynamics. But none of that could surpass what sat in the middle of the room: a very expensive looking baby grand. It had to be years old, but it didn't look it. And besides, a piano was a piano.
Alec sat down on the black bench, running his fingers lightly over the cold, smooth keys. They brought back so many memories, both good and bad. He positioned his finger appropriately and began to play.
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata. Rachel had always loved it when he'd played it. It was the first one he'd learned for the mission, and one of his personal favorites. All twenty four pages of it.
He knew the music like the back of his hand, and it was obvious that the talent came naturally to him, even more so than any other son or daughter of Manticore. He finished the piece in good time, savoring the beauty of the composition for as long as possible. He'd always had a certain appreciation for music. When he'd completed the sonata, he decided to play the only other appropriate piece that came to mind.
The only appropriate piece to ever play on a piano.
The only appropriate piece to tear his heart to shreds.
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3.
He played so gracefully, his fingers seemed to glide across the keys as the music flowed beautifully through the room. But to Alec, there was no music. Just the pain cutting through him, the memories. And the pain.
After he'd finished the piece, he stood and knelt next to the bench he'd previously been sitting on. There had to be something in there. Something to distract him from his thoughts. He opened the small hinged lid, revealing multiple books of music, all from before the Pulse. He grabbed one of the first books that he found. 'Famous Ballads of the Century'. Good enough. He turned to the first page of printed music and read the title.
Aerosmith. One of those pre-Pulse rock bands that had just stuck around forever. Alec had heard some of their tracks on his missions, and quite a bit more of them after Manticore had gone down. When he'd been learning piano back before the Berrisford Mission, his superiors wanted his teaching to be diverse. He remembered the one that one of the supervisors had suggested. It was one of Aerosmith's love songs, from a movie, if Alec's memory served him correctly. I Don't Want To Miss A Thing. He placed his fingers accordingly and began to play.
After finishing the older ballad, he paused briefly, staring at the keys. Memories flooded his mind, but he shook his violently to free himself from their murderous holds. He quickly turned the page of the thick piano book to the next song.
Lifehouse. What kind of name is that? It wasn't even a word, he was sure of that. But as he began to play the song printed in the volume in front of him, he began to think that even if they couldn't name themselves something that actually had a logical meaning, they could at least put together a decent love song. This piece 'Breathing' was pretty good. But these decent love songs were starting to get to Alec. The memories of his past were beginning to blur his thoughts. He considered looking for a different genre of music to play, but instead violently batted at the pages of the book, revealing the next song.
Interesting. It was a Japanese song, he'd learned the language back at Manticore, and you didn't see much of them in the States anymore. Suteki Da Ne. Again, Alec could swear it was featured in a movie, or a video game, or something. He played it with just as much proficiency as the previous songs, though being as it was written at a slower tempo, and with more classical dynamics, it seemed somewhat longer than some of the other 'ballads.' He flipped the page once again.
Now this was old, but no less appealing. The Beetles, to be exact. Let It Be. It was more of an upbeat sort of song, though too slow for his liking. So, he took the liberty of speeding it up a few notches. It ended up sounded much more jazz like than the original, but still a true work of genius. It wasn't long before he'd ended his modified version of the traditional work. He turned the page once again.
Hmm. Linkin Park. An alternative rock band of sorts, if he wasn't mistaken. He'd actually benefited from some of their insightful music. But this was one he hadn't heard before. My December. Interesting choice of title. But fitting, Alec thought as he scanned the lyrics printed below the varying notes. Very Fitting. And so, he decided that it was worth his time to play. It was a slow, almost melancholy piece; the kind that was so simply haunting that it sent chills up your spine, though Alec, being trained and bred to control his actions, was able to stop such a motion. The song surely live up to its name, it was so cold, so possessive, though meaningful. And easy to relate to. But it wasn't long before Alec found himself looking at the next piece in the book.
Goo Goo Dolls. Iris. It was a vague title, but Alec wasn't distracted enough not to catch the underlying meaning. And he liked that element of vagueness. And the name of the group was amusing enough. He had time to waste. No one was around. No would hear little old Alec playing him piano long into the night. Why not play a few more? And so, he played through the song.
'One last song,' he thought to himself, looking out the window at the continuously darkening sky. He didn't want to push his luck in discretion too far. So he flipped one last page for the night, to a very fitting title.
Alec grinned upon scanning the piece. Journey. One of those classic rock bands. Don't Stop Believing. A sort of symbolic song he supposed, for their situation. Corny, yeah, but still significant. He knew the song; he'd swiped a few CDs on one of his early heists after the destruction of Manticore, Journey's Escape having been one of them. As he began to play, he unconsciously started to sing along.
Just a small town girl, Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere
Just a city boy, Born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night
Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
He smiled slightly as he finished, somewhat satisfied that he was so well versed in music that he knew every word to such a classic song. And that, in his opinion, he sounded half-ways decent in singing it.
He reached up to close the book in front of him and return it to its place when he was caught off guard by a barely audible whisper coming from behind him.
"Journey, right? Nice choice."
A/N: Yes, I realize the conversation between Alec and Mole was somewhat scripted, and I apologize. If you have any ideas on how I could make it more natural, please feel free to let me know what you're thinking. Also, yes, the way I write the characters differ from other authors, and I hope this doesn't confuse you. It's just the way that I picture them, and I also believe that it's enjoyable to read a new take on things once in a while.
Anyway, all of the songs featured in this chapter in the piano scene were ideas from my friends and also a few authors on here. If you get confused by some of the references here, I apologize. So here we go:
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata was for Emily and Elizabeth (The Twins); you are too cool. Thank you for letting me borrow the piano music until I got my own copy, you guys are great!
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3. Was based from the music from Berrisford Agenda, and also one of my new pieces for piano, so that's the reasoning for that.
Aerosmith's I Don't Want To Miss A Thing was for Samantha and Shannon, my two wonderful cousins, who went crazy for that song along with me when the movie Armageddon came out. Love Ya!
Lifehouse's Breathing was for all of my 'guy' friends, especially 'Boeschy', many of whom I've danced with to this song. You're all great!
The Japanese 'Suteki Da Ne' was for Caralyn, Vinny, Dan, and Nathan. You asked, I complied. I hope this is a decent fix for your Anime Obsession, which I still don't understand! LOL! And this is from Final Fantasy X, the PlayStation 2 Video Game, if you're wondering.
The Beetles' Let It Be was, in short, for me. It was my first concert piano solo piece, and I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who put up with listening to it for so long! LOL! Heck, even those of you who had no clue about The Beetles' leaned the whole song!
Linkin Park's My December was for Amanda. Eminem really never wrote an appropriate love song, so this will have to be acceptable! LOL!
Goo Goo Doll's Iris was Brin's idea; thank you so much! BTW, great new chapter; if you haven't read her stuff, go read! It's awesome!
And Journey's Don't Stop Believing was 1.) for Emily, cause she actually knew it! 2.) because it's one of my favorite 'classic', if you want to call it that, rock song, and 3.) because I was watching the Wedding Singer while I was writing.
Ok, done now.
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!
-AntipodeanOpaleye
By AntipodeanOpaleye
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Wow, Chapter Four. I apologize for the delay. First I want to thank Johan for looking over this chapter before it was posted, and giving me the suggestions I needed to get to work on this. Thank You SOOO Much!!! Also, to all of my reviewers, you are pretty much the only reason this went farther than another abandoned one chapter piece. You are all so awesome!
Anyway, this chapter is still leading up to more interesting things, so, if your bored, I promise more action in the upcoming chapters. I have more to say, but if I say it now, I'll give away parts of the chapter. So, read the AN at the bottom for some more explanations and such.
Anyway, hope you like it!
Chapter Four: Beyond Vague
"Hey boys, look what the cat drug in," Mole said with as much of a smile as he could achieve, being the pessimist he was, when Max strode into Command, Alec sauntering in behind her. "Sorry Max, uh, no pun intended," he added at the odd look she directed his way in response to the feline comparison.
"Hey Alec. Max," Dix said, looking up from his computer. Luke and Josh were absent from the group, Joshua having gone to help Gem with the baby, and Luke having tagged along to assist them.
"Dix, how's is going buddy?" Alec asked as he walked over to him a clapped on the shoulder.
"Pretty well, actually," Dix reported with a grin. "I've been looking up a lot of things pertaining to the cause," he shot a pointed look Alec's way when no one was looking, and Alec gave a discreet nod.
Dix knew that Alec didn't want Max, or anyone, for that matter, knowing about some of the things he'd asked Dix to look into for him. And Dix was happy to help. He really liked Alec. Alec respected him, as he did with all of the other transgenics in Terminal City. Not that he didn't like Max or some of the others, or that they didn't treat him well. It was just that there was something about Alec that was, different. He was so much more laid back, so much more sociable and friendly, and so much more appreciative of everyone and everything they did. Dix would even say that Alec was probably the most loyal and, ironic as it seemed, dependable transgenic he knew. Fate just didn't seem to favor him very much. Alec was definitely the most good-hearted person Dix knew, and he knew quite a wide variety of people.
"Great," Alec said in response to Dix's announcement. "I'll come by later and see what you've got so far."
"Sounds great," Dix replied knowingly, looking forward to sharing the information with Alec. He was quite proud of what he'd come up with, to say the least.
"Alec," Mole called him over to the other side of the room, away from Max, who had now taken Alec's place in speaking to Dix. Alec made his way over to him promptly.
"Yeah?" Alec asked the lizard-like man in front of him.
"Look, Dix was thinking about asking Max about this, but we didn't know if she could, uh, 'handle it'," Mole emphasized his last words, making it clear that he seriously doubted Max's ability to correctly take care of whatever situation was at hand.
"What is it?" Alec asked, pinning Mole with a strange glance.
"Well," Mole sighed in irritated exasperation, "Me and Josh were out this morning, you know, making supply deliveries and that type of thing. And we found the body of one of the Ordinaries outside some new outlet we found, after Joshua tracked the scent and all. We got the body out of sight before anyone saw it, as far as we know. Looked like there was only a small group manning the area. There were quite a few of them knocked out, too," Mole paused and Alec took the opportunity to add to the one sided conversation.
"Did they come around? Were they all right?" Alec somewhat asked urgently, feeling increasingly guilty for what he'd done to them, even though he'd had no choice. In Mole's opinion, Alec sounded a slight bit too urgent. Any other transgenic wouldn't have thought twice about such questions. Mole, on the other hand, wasn't any other transgenic. Mole didn't tolerate sympathy for the death or injury of Ordinaries, and he had his valid reasons, though what they were, few people were aware of. And so, when someone like Alec showed such an emotion, Mole was more than tempted to press the topic. But he let it slide, resolving to bring it up later in the discussion.
"Yeah, they did, eventually. With a little help. We got Dalton, you know, the X6 kid from Jam Pony?" Alec nodded and Mole continued.
"We got him to come over when they woke up, you know, told 'em that they got into some of those chemicals around here on accident and it knocked 'em out cold. Told 'em they might be delusional for a while. Well, I was right when I said Ordinaries will believe anything," Mole referred to one of him infamous assumptions of the humans, "'cause those guys bought it; hook, line, and sinker." Alec remembered Dalton having casually said that he'd excelled in persuasive techniques back and Manticore, which was to him obvious now. "Didn't take 'em long to leave after that. Why d'ya ask?" Mole questioned him curiously.
"No reason," Alec said, eyeing Mole almost dangerously, though not quite. Mole wasn't swayed.
"What was it? Why would you care about what happened with them?" Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Mole cut him off. "And don't go sayin' that shit about exposure and bad publicity for us. There's more to it than that. And I wanna know what that more is."
If it were any other pair in Terminal City, things would most likely have turned physically violent at this point. But Alec was the only person Mole seriously trusted in TC, and Alec had, for some strange reason, had taken a liking to Mole and his exaggerated 'wage war' attitude. And so, Alec sighed and prepared to explain what had happened to Mole. But Mole wasn't exactly a patient transgenic, and had already resumed his tirade, trying to convince Alec to spill his story.
"You know who did it, don't you? It was obviously the work of an X5," Mole prodded. "Someone you knew from back at Manticore, perhaps, one of your own unit?" Mole contemplated his next comment, hoping to push Alec just that slight bit too far in order to persuade him to tell. Deliver a blow that he was sure would shock Alec's manly pride. "One of your superiors, maybe? A Commanding Officer?"
Alec's head whipped around as he turned to face Mole head on. His eyes were angry, yet somehow, guilty. Almost desperate. But his voice was even, though cutting.
"There were no transgenics at the Manticore compound who were considered my superiors. Or at least, none that I was required to answer to. And I have no reason to cover for anyone anymore. Those kinds of things don't matter anymore."
Mole maintained eye contact with Alec, and could tell there was more to the situation than that. So, being the demanding type of person he was, he pushed on.
"That ain't it Alec. What are you turning on us? Sympathizing with the enemy?" Mole could've stopped there, and he was well aware of that. But Mole was one of those people who enjoy exaggerations and love to jump to conclusions. Drastic conclusions. And though Alec was the last person he would expect, he had to be sure. He needed to go in for the kill, even though he regretted what he'd need to say in order to do so.
"Maybe you've gone past sympathizing, Alec. Maybe you're with them. Maybe you're the traitor. I mean, it's bad enough Max trusts Cale so damn much. But it's a hell of a lot worse when you go beyond trusting. And you should know that we transgenics don't punish treason lightly."
That was the last straw for Alec. He spun around and grabbed Mole by the collar. "What the hell is your problem Alec?" Mole hissed, thought he was somewhat surprised at Alec's strength.
"Dammit, Mole!" Alec lashed back. "I took them out. I killed that guy. I did it!" Alec's breathing was erratic as he held Mole, his arm shaking slightly in rage. Then, he simply let go. Mole stumbled slightly as Alec's grip was released, watching Alec lean dependently on the nearby wall, throwing his head back against it. He closed his eyes and caught his breath while Mole simply continued to stand there and watch.
"What other transgenic would have taken the time not to simply kill those people? It takes some concentration and precision to be sure they woke up with some sort of memory loss instead of just tossing those weaklings around like a damn ragdoll," Alec said through clenched teeth. And then, in such a small voice that Mole had to strain to hear it. "This isn't me anymore."
"What?" Mole asked.
"Killing people. I mean, had they died, they would have deserved it. They shot at us first. But I didn't want to kill them. I don't want any more blood on my hands. There's too much there already," Alec's voice was quiet as he spoke.
"What if they threatened one of us?" Mole asked, wanting to know exactly where Alec stood in all of this, as long as he'd already gotten himself knee-deep into the subject. "What if they threatened Max?"
Alec looked up, his face set, his eyes determined. "I'd kill 'em without a second thought. Like the guy that was dead out there. He was a Familiar. And he died at my hand, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Mole said, somewhat surprised that Alec had taken out a Familiar single handedly that morning.
"This whole cause is my life now, Mole. I've learned better than to throw away something like that. I wouldn't betray this. I wouldn't have anything left." Alec was embarrassed at what he'd said, but there was nothing else that he could have said, and he knew that. But he still wasn't sure why the hell he'd come out and said something like that. Said it to Mole, no less. He sighed once more, waiting for Mole's undoubtedly sarcastically mocking reply. What he got was quite different.
"I, um, I'm," Mole sputtered uncharacteristically. "I'm, uh, sorry, Alec. I didn't know."
Alec looked strangely at Mole, wondering if Mole had a clone that had come and taken his place, because such a reaction was definitely not going to come from the Mole he knew. But, logically speaking, Alec seriously doubted that the anomalies would have been twinned, and so he moved away from the wall and approached Mole.
"It's all right," Alec said sincerely. And, having learned such an action from his friend Sketchy, bumped fists with Mole. Mole chuckled in his rough sort of way at the motion, but complied. "Oh, and do me a favor. Let's keep this between you and me, all right?" And with a nod, Mole turned to leave.
"And Mole?" Alec called at the lizard man's retreating back. "Do something with the body."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Garret. Garret. Garret, wake up. Garret!"
It was when his wife's singsong voice had turned harsh that he thought it wise to pull himself out of bed. Though he still wasn't happy about it.
"Ugh," Garret groaned irritably, refusing to open his eyes. He buried his head stubbornly into his pillow. "You do know that not all X5s are into wake up calls, right?"
"I happen to know for a fact that you never slept in back at Manticore," the female voice called from the bathroom across the room. "And besides, it's already 7:30. That isn't even remotely early."
"Maybe not for you!" Garret continued to complain. "Honestly, Brin. I haven't had a decent night sleep since we've been married!"
"But not entirely because I prefer that your lazy ass gets out of bed at a decent time, correct?" Brin stuck her head out of the bathroom, a wry grin on her face, which was only halfway made up, which gave her the amusing look of a very attractive clown. Garret fought the urge to laugh, knowing that if he did, he'd pay for it later.
"Of course not!" Garret replied, feigning offense. "But seriously, Bri. Just because you were Renfro's right hand woman and were up at all hours of the night doesn't mean the rest did the same."
"Don't remind me," Brin muttered, referring to her time at Manticore with Renfro. Garret knew how much it bothered her.
After the DNA database had been destroyed, Brin had been put in solitary for a week in punishment for allowing 452 to get away. And then, she'd been shipped off to join Renfro at the Seattle facility. She'd been stripped of her responsibilities to the Director and had been thrown into one of the Special Ops units, all of whom trained together, without interaction with the other X5s. Garret, or X5-841 as he was at the time, had been her Commanding Officer. And he'd been somewhat attracted to her from the moment she'd joined their group. But her reindoctrination had been harsh, and the loss of her status had been a tough blow for her. So when the facility had been compromised, Brin had resolved to stay behind. But Garret was about to have any of his unit's deaths on his hands, least of all Brin's. And so, after subduing the feisty X5, he escaped the flames with Brin in his arms. He'd gotten as far as a small, run down motel about ten klicks or so north, northeast from the Manticore site. He'd rented a room after knocking over one of the small general stores nearby. And there he'd waited for Brin to come around. He still remembered what had happened when she finally did.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What the hell are you doing?" Brin shrieked in anger at her Commanding Officer, who was taking a look at the large gash that marred her right leg.
"Yeah, good morning to you, too," 841 drawled sarcastically. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
Brin dismissed his comments. "Where the hell are we?"
"In Bora Bora, sweetheart. Ya better turn over, you're startin' to burn."
"Don't play smart ass," Brin shot back.
"Where does it look like we are?" 841 shouted at her. "We're in a motel. A shitty motel, at that. And you were injured on the way here, and I was taking a look at the wound. Is that a crime?"
"And if it is? I didn't want out. I should've gone down with command," she snapped back at him.
"Now I can see why Renfro didn't want you around. You're mentally unstable."
"Damn you!" Brin cried out as she leaped up, ready to smack her former CO. Well, at least, she attempted to leap, though due to injury, she stumbled back onto the bed with a small whimper.
"Careful," 841's voice was gentle, yet reprimanding. "We've only been here for a few hours. You'll be good as new in the morning."
"Whatever you say," Brin muttered irritatedly, knowing he was right.
"That's right. Whatever I say."
"Men," Brin rolled her eyes as she made the remark.
"We are fabulous creatures, aren't we?" 841's voice was audacious.
"Fabulously incompetent, fabulously annoying, shall I continue?"
"No, your voice is giving me a migraine," 841 rubbed his forehead.
"We're going to have to look for any signs of the reestablishment of command," Brin commented distractedly.
"What? They tried to kill us!"
"What are you talking about?" Brin countered. "They were trying to protect the site!"
"My ass," 841 retaliated. "They were blatantly shooting at us! Manticore isn't all roses without the thorns, 734! In fact, the bad often outweighs the good where they're concerned. And damn! You're an '09 escapee! Even your reindoctrination couldn't have wiped all of the obstinacy from that pretty little head!"
And Brin was silent. She appeared to have been stricken by his words. Her face went pale, her bottom lip began to tremble, and she began to sob uncontrollably. And, not knowing what else to do, 841 wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to him until the both fell asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
841, now Garret, in likeness to his mission alias, had taken care of Brin throughout her confusion. And, once she was able to stand on her own two feet, and able to recall the valid reasons for her escape in '09. And after she'd been able to hold her own once more as well as any transgenic could, he decided to leave her to herself.
But, ironically, Brin wasn't very fond of that idea.
And so, they'd stayed together and later married, settling just outside Spokane. And they'd been happy together. Except for the occasional minor breakdown on Brin's part, mostly due to her anguish over what she'd done to her family after she'd been recaptured by Manticore. It was because of this that she never attempted to find the siblings she escaped with so long ago.
Garret rolled over onto his side, searching blindly for the television remote control on the nightstand next to him. After locating it, he turned the news on.
The female reporter for Channel 8 News was just finishing up her account.
"For those of you only just tuning in to this Special Report," she droned, "we are here bringing you coverage of the Transgenic Siege at Terminal City."
"Brin," Garret called to her. "You should come in and see this." He'd heard bits and pieces about the transgenic situation in Seattle, but nothing solid. And honestly, he hadn't wanted to go to any trouble to try and find out anything more about it. He didn't want to get killed, to get Brin killed, any more than the next guy. But as far as he could tell, things were heating up dangerously. And he couldn't just abandon his own kind. And when it came down to it, he knew Brin felt the same way.
"What is." Brin began as she emerged from the bathroom, her makeup now complete. She stopped short as she saw the familiar scene the woman was reporting on.
"We're going to flash those photos again," the reporter informed her television audience. These two transgenics, X5s to be more specific, are believed to be heading the siege together."
And, as expected, the regular photos of Max and Alec appeared side by side on the screen.
"If you have any information on these two transgenics, you are encouraged to inform Sector Police immediately as this pair of X5s are considered to be highly dangerous."
Garret turned the television off abruptly, noticing the almost sick look on his wife's face.
"What's the matter, Brin?" he asked.
"That's Max, and, Ben. But Ben's dead."
"Max and Ben, as in, your siblings, Max and Ben?" Garret asked, disconcerting the fact that Ben was supposedly dead for the moment.
"Yeah," Brin replied in a breathless whispered, whatever color was left in her usually tanned skin disappearing.
"What are you going to do about it?" Garret asked bluntly.
"I don't know," Brin said, fear lacing her voice.
"Why are you so scared of them, Brin?" Garret asked. "They love you. It wasn't your fault that Manticore got you. You didn't have a choice in what they did to you. You can't be accountable for your actions while you were under their influence. They won't hold that against you."
And with her next words, Brin surprised her husband. "You're right."
"And?" Garret pushed her.
"We leave ASAP," Brin answered, determined. "We won't desert out kind. I won't do that again. Not again."
And with that, she went to her dresser to pack some of the necessary items she would take. Garret smiled at his wife and rose to do the same.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So," Jondy said after Zane had explained his plan. "You want me to come with you to Seattle in order to help save all of the wayward transgenics."
Zane smiled as he leaned back in his seat. "More or less."
They'd long since left the benches they'd occupied and had gone to a nearby coffee shop to grab a drink. At this point they were finishing the last of their almost flavorless purchases.
"It'll take a day or so with Sector Checkpoints and such," Jondy commented as she lifted her cup to her lips. "It's just going to be us, right?"
"Yeah," Zane replied quietly.
"What about the others?"
"I don't have a clue where they are," Zane whispered. "I mean, me and you hooked up, same with Krit and Syl. No one else knew, except,"
"Zack," they finished together. They sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on their CO, whom had done so much for them, but had paid so high a price.
"Maybe they'll have already gotten to Terminal City," Zane said hopefully.
"And what about those two shots they keep putting on the news, the supposed leaders of the transgenic nation or whatever," Jondy said. "Don't you think the look familiar?"
"They look like Max and Ben," Zane said slowly. "But Ben's," he didn't have to finish to have his point across.
"I know," Jondy whispered. "But you're right. We need to go. To at least see if we can do anything to help them. That's our people. We can't just desert them."
"I agree." Zane replied. "We have to go." He sighed. "When?"
"As soon as we can get out," Jondy shot back. "I don't have anything here. It's your call."
"I guess we should go shopping for a car," Zane said with a grin, not having hot-wired a car for quite some time.
Jondy smiled broadly as she stood from the booth and walked slowly toward the door. "Read my mind."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Krit!" Syl complained as she trudged behind him as they made their way through the woods along the highway. "What is your problem! We could've very easily stolen a car, or couple of bikes! But walk? All the way to Seattle? You've got to be kidding me!"
Krit sighed in exasperation. "Syl, how many times have I explained this to you? We don't know what kind of security or precautions they're taking against the transgenics up here. We can't risk it. We'll be there by sundown, if everything goes according to plan."
"Whatever, Krit." Syl spat out in disgust. "Whatever."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Senator McKinley, please," Ames White spoke into his cell phone.
"May I ask who's calling?" the young secretary asked automatically.
"Special Agent Ames White," he replied suavely. He kind of liked the way that sounded. Though the thought of when he'd last used the title brought back somewhat embarrassing memories for the youngish, male Familiar.
"One moment please, sir," the woman said as she forwarded him through to the Senator himself.
"McKinley," the middle aged senator answered the call stiffly.
"Fe'nos tol," White replied casually.
It was obvious in his voice that McKinley relaxed considerably upon the greeting. "Fe'nos tol."
"Tough day?" White inquired sarcastically.
McKinley chuckled slightly. "You could say that." Then, more seriously, "Dr. Sandeman certainly went out of his way to make trouble for us when he created these transgenics. They're going to give us a run for our money, Ames."
"Unfortunately," White replied.
"Will he talk? Have you gotten anything out of him about his time with the transgenics?" McKinley asked, referring to C.J.
"Nothing. I've tried everything I can think of. And we can't afford to kill him; the information he has is most likely indispensable." White answered disgustedly. "But we can't wait forever. We're running out of time."
"I know, Ames." McKinley said, exasperated. "But there is something you need to know."
White knew that whatever it was that McKinley was going to tell him, it was most likely far from good. "I'm listening."
"The transgenics haven't a clue about what awaits them in the future. Dr. Sandeman is the only we that we know of that is aware of the Coming in its entirety. As of as recently as last week, we had him pinpointed at a specific location where we had been keeping an eye on him from a distance. But as of last night, he was no where to be found at this location. We have no idea where he might be, though we assume that he will try to establish contact, whether in person or otherwise, with the transgenics. He's an intelligent man, Ames, and he has more knowledge on our cause than most, as well as an infinite supply of information on the transgenics. The Conclave is unsure whether we will be able to stop him should he attempt to warn the transgenics."
"Why do I sense a but coming here?" White asked sardonically.
"It is the opinion of The Conclave that regardless if we can deter Sandeman from successfully alerting the transgenics, we should at least be aware of what exactly he decides to divulge. And when. This is where you come in, Ames."
"They want you to send someone inside. They are to pose as a transgenic in as convincible a fashion as possible for as long as they can maintain the cover. They are to take no actions to expose themselves, and if they must destroy their own in the process, so be it. They are to inflict no harm on the transgenics inside, or Sandeman should he arrive. But it is imperative that once we formulate a plan of retaliation, your insider will need to be terminated."
"I'm not quite sure," White started, but was cut off.
"Neither am I, Ames. These orders came from high up. Even I am not sure about this motion is supposed to accomplish. But I do advise you to be prompt, and refrain from asking any further questions unless they absolutely necessary."
"I understand," Ames answered coldly, though somewhat dejectedly. If it weren't for his father, he would most likely already have a ranking in the The Conclave. But, as it was, he wasn't quite there yet. Someday, but not right then. He did have his position of succession secured, after all. At least he wasn't the rookie who was going to be doomed to pose as one of those pieces of transgenic filth. Now there was a comforting thought.
"Good. It is to your benefit that you do. To the benefit of us all."
"Fe'nos tol," White replied, ready to end the talk.
"I will be in contact with you Ames. Very soon. Fe' nes tol." And with that, the Senator cut the conversation off.
White closed his cell and slipped it back into the pocket of the jacket of his suit. He leaned back in his very comfortable office chair, swinging his legs up to rest on the desk in front of him. He threw his head back and sighed. This was not going as planned. Nothing was. First it was the transgenics. Then it was Wendy. Then Ray. And now this.
There was a soft knock on the solid oak door across the room. White removed his legs from the desktop and returned to a sitting position.
"Come in," he said in his characteristic voice that made him sound superior. And not a single person at the agency had questioned that implied superiority to date.
"Sir?" the young man asked as he eased open the door, though before entering the office.
"Otto," White said in a much more welcoming tone than he'd used before. Somehow, he'd taken a strange sort of liking to the young operative that had been assigned to the transgenic project under his supervision. "What exactly is it that I can do for you?"
Otto closed the door slowly behind him. "Well, sir. We've been searching for more of those Thermal Imagers you wanted, but production was shut down after The Pulse. We've been able to locate a few of the more primitive models, but the sensitivity rate is less than desirable. We're still checking into revamping them with the newer technology, but none of them are in particularly good shape. We have a few dealings in the works with some international agencies, none of which are proving to be highly reliable."
White reclined slightly in his chair and looked at the young agent in front of him. He rotated a pen in his hands distractedly. "And how do we plan on handling the situation?"
"Well sir, we've revoked all of the Imagers that we'd provided Sector Police with. Our total amounts to seventeen all together. Not nearly enough to equip all of the imperative checkpoints, plus a decent radius around Terminal City. And one without the other is simply useless. We have some personnel that are looking into replicating the Imagers, as well as updating the earlier versions we've uncovered. But without the right equipment, they can hardly begin to analyze them, let alone discover whether or not it is even possible to satisfy our demand. And I think you'll agree with me that such technology is going to be hard to come by, and more expensive than the government will be willing to put into this, especially if we aren't positive that it will benefit the cause."
"Otto, my friend, I believe you've got our government's inner workings figured out pretty well." White paused, apparently debating what their plan of action should be.
"Start a search for the equipment we're going to need. International, second hand, wherever you can find it. Look into the Black Market, there should be some dealers down there that can to least point us in the right direction. Give me a report by Friday." When Otto didn't reply, and simply continued to stand in front of the desk, Ames took the initiative to dismiss him.
"That gives you only a little over two days. I suggest you start now."
"Oh! Yes, sir." And with that, Otto left the office. White followed him to the door and locked it as soon as he was out. He walked back to his desk and collapsed into his chair once more.
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a large framed photo of himself, and his son Ray. He smiled solemnly and the picture, remembering the day it had been taken. It had been after he had taken Ray to Brookridge. They'd spent quite a bit of time together after he'd started there, and Ames had enjoyed every minute of it. He'd really never been much a family man before, but when family had presented itself to him in the form of his son Ray, he'd been unable to resist it. Which had made for a harsh blow when 452 had interfered. And because of her, he'd lost his only son. Was Ray even alive? Logically, no, he wasn't. But no real father would give up until they knew for sure. And technically, he wasn't a real father; he was more than that. And so, he would find Ray. If it killed him, he would find his son. And if anything had happened to Ray, he'd make sure 452 would pay.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gill Dallas sat at the small, run-down table in his small farmhouse in what had become the countryside near the boarder of Washington and Oregon. The evening sun was streaming in through the window, illuminating the room. He casually sipped his herbal tea as he read a rural newspaper.
"Gill," his wife Eileen called from the kitchen area, you have a telephone call.
"Be right there," he called back. The phone call bothered him slightly. No one ever bothered to call Gillard Ruffus Dallas, the middle aged farmer who'd been abandoned after the Pulse and had been wandering around with long term amnesia for years. The only reason someone would call would be if they knew who he really was. If they wanted to track him down. If they wanted him dead. But, then again, Donald Lydecker had become extremely paranoid after going into hiding with a new identity.
"Who is it?" he asked his wife quietly as he took the phone. She shrugged casually and walked out of the room to resume the sewing project she had deserted to answer the call.
"Hello?" Lydecker aka Gill spoke into the antique receiver.
"Hi there," a deep, male voice answers on the other end.
"Who is this?" Lydecker asked, somewhat apprehensive.
"Patience, patience. All in good time. As long as you cooperate, no one will get hurt."
"What are you talking about?" Donald asked.
"For the head of a secret government agency, you're pathetic at covering your tracks, Lydecker."
"Who the hell are you?" Lydecker hissed into the phone.
"As I said, all in good time, given you cooperate. Which I suggest you do. You of all people should know what we're capable of doing to ensure that you go along with what we have planned."
"What are you?" Lydecker growled again.
"I'm one of your precious little children, 'Deck. One of your crowning achievements. Your perfect creations. Your scientific mishaps. A child of Manticore. Come to The Olde Towne Motel at midnight. Alone. Wait outside next to the phone booth on the right. Make sure you don't confuse this with the booth on the left. Stay there, don't attract attention. I'll approach you. If you chose not to come, I think you can imagine my planned course of action should the time arrive. Tick tock."
And the line went dead.
Only a few miles away, in the phone booth to the right of The Olde Towne Motel, Zack hung up the phone and walked into the motel, preparing to take a room for the evening. He was ready, and waiting, to have a long impending chat with Donald Lydecker.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Dix," Alec called over to the transhuman, who was sitting behind a computer, later that evening. "Alec," Dix looked up from his work with a grin.
"Got a second?" Alec looked uncomfortably around, scanning the area for people. No one. Mole had gone to take care of that Familiar, Josh and Luke were still helping Gem, Max had gone down to see a few X5 females to talk about some 'girly topic;' children, via the breeding program, no doubt. All of stragglers that used the Command area as means of transport or other such intentions, were, for one reason or another, no where to be found. Which was for the best, because it was imperative that no one but Alec and Dix overheard the conversation.
"Of course," Dix replied, closing the many different windows littering the desktop of the screen. He clicked on multiple different icons, while Alec followed every move and committed it to memory. Each window popped up promptly, and in turn, requested a password for further access.
'tc150'
'trans5'
'chimera658'
'manticore874'
'gentics95'
'freak22'
'jp02'
'familiar78'
'psyops26' ' reindoc47'
"Real original passwords you got there," Alec commented in an undertone. Dix spin around in his chair. He was somewhat surprised that Alec had picked up the passwords, being that Dix took care not to allow such carelessness when dealing with any of the files. He knew what the transgenics were capable of picking up from which angles and at what distances, and he made sure that none of them were able to decipher his typing. But Alec wasn't just any transgenic. Not that it mattered, he would have given Alec the passwords had he asked without question.
"I change them every few days," Dix replied. "Sometimes more often."
Alec nodded approvingly.
"I've found quite a bit information on most of the topics you requested," Dix said as he typed away, never taking his eyes off of the screen, and Alec never looking away. "I've got some stuff from Manticore, hacked into old databases that were obviously transferred to a different server and were never disconnected. There was nothing specifically on The Coming, the runes, or any of Sandeman's personal accounts. Though, with quite a bit of luck, I was able to find most of the other files you wanted." Dix handed him a considerable stack of worm manila folders, each filled with reports from Manticore.
Alec sifted through them. X5-521. "Biggs." X5-599. "Zack." A number of other files were attached together. "The other '09 escapes." X5-452 was separate. "Max." As was X5-493. "Ben." And finally, the file for X5-494. "And me. Thanks Dix. You have no clue," Alec started, but Dix cut him off.
"It's no problem, Alec. Anything for a friend."
Alec smiled as Dix continued.
"I tried to find some things on the Breeding Cult, but I couldn't find anything. I did, however intercept a transmission from somewhere in DC to Senator McKinley. Which brings me to another one of things you asked about. The Familiars have been watching Sandeman for some time at the same location. But he just recently disappeared. That's all I know."
"Wonder where Sandeman's headed." Alec wondered aloud.
Dix nodded. "I got as much as I could of the Ancient Minoan translations as I could find. Here's what I got out of them, just slightly different from what you said Logan had."
Multiple images of Max's rune-filled skin flashed on the screen at high- speed, the runes rearranging themselves into what looked liked multiple sentences and phrases.
"And then you have the new runes." Dix said as he clicked on a small folder icon, revealing new photos, which flashed on the screen and added themselves to the string of meaningless symbols on the screen.
"Not all of the symbols had relevant meanings, or no meaning at all. In which cases I assumed the runes were written not in the tradition Minoan, but in a derivative of the original. So I looked up the translations of the runes in all of the other ancient Greek languages, and I found the most accurate transliteration. It makes for a much more consistent interpretation of the message." Dix clicked a green button on the middle- right of the screen. In an instant, the entire jumble of runes was transcribed into Modern English.
"When the shroud of death covers the face of the earth, the ones whose power is hidden will join together, and join as one to deliver the helpless." Alec read in a whisper. He gaped at Dix, shock written clearly on his features.
"So there's someone else. Max isn't the only one." Alec concluded.
"And my guess is that whoever this person is, they'll have the runes Max has, and those symbols will complete the message." Dix added.
"Do you have any guesses on who it could be?" Alec asked distractedly.
"Well," Dix said, "My guess is that Max is useless without this person. Not only does this person enable her to 'deliver the helpless' so to speak, I think that she depends on this person emotionally. I don't believe that Sandeman would try to force two complete stranger with no existing bond together in such a desperate situation. And I supposed a first guess would be one of her siblings. Maybe her blood brother. But though she cares for them deeply, loves them even, she doesn't depend on them, doesn't need them by her side. So, if you're asking me if I have any idea who this other someone is, I'd say it was you, Alec."
Alec looked dumbfounded at this. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. As realistic as it was, he hadn't thought that it was even remotely possible that *he* was the one Max depended on. That she needed. That he might just be half of the key to saving the world.
Alec picked up the files that he'd laid on a nearby desk and prepared to leave. His eyes darted around the still deserted Command area. He'd forgotten to check for intruders the entire time.
"Don't worry, Alec. No one came in." Dix assured him.
"Thanks Dix," Alec said sincerely, his eyes revealing his confusing, his fright, but also his childish excitement. Dix smiled.
"Anytime Alec. Anytime."
As Alec turned to leave, Dix called out to him.
"Oh. And Alec?"
He looked casually over his shoulder.
"You might be wanting these," Dix said as he threw a small set of keys to the X5. "We found an old studio down by Oak Street. It's in the Fulton Building, third floor, second door on the right."
Alec stopped and turned around, studying the keys in his hand, knowing immediately what was waiting in the room they unlocked. He grinned happily.
"Thank you Dix. I needed this."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Donald Lydecker flashed his Sector Pass distractedly at a passing officer. He was continuously looking over his shoulder, his paranoia getting the best of him. He walked slowly to the phone booth on the right, waiting next to it as he'd been instructed. He pulled the collar of his jacket up to ward off the chilling wind, though it was a futile motion.
He heard something move behind him, but after he'd turned, it was gone. He looked to his left, then to his right, but there was no one in sight.
It was only after the fact that he realized that he should have thought to look upward.
It happened in a split second. There was no warning, no time to think. A figured leaped from above and landed in a catlike position, dangerously close to having crushed Lydecker in its deplaning. It remained in the same feline position for a few moments, a low, angry growl coming from the being as it straightened itself.
"Well, well, well," the male transgenic said in a low, threatening tone. "Looks like Donald Lydecker isn't as formidable as he once was."
"You're an X5," Lydecker responded knowingly, having deduced so by the landing.
"No shit, Sherlock," the man retorted. He stepped forward, revealing himself to the elder of the pair.
"559." Lydecker said in a whisper, a mixture of wonder, fright, and anger lacing his voice.
"Took you long enough," Zack said sarcastically.
"What do you want from me?" Lydecker asked, his voice betraying the hostility he was experiencing. Zack smirked.
"Revenge. Payback. Compensation. Not that you would ever be able to give back what you've taken from us. Your whole life isn't even worth that."
"What are you talking about, 599?" Lydecker demanded condescendingly. He soon realized that was a mistake.
In the blink of an eye, Zack had Lydecker by the neck, holding him powerfully up against the side of the phone booth.
"My name is Zack," he hissed. "Not 599. Not Adam. Zack. See that you remember that." And he let Lydecker fall from his grasp, crumpling to the ground.
"You know what's happening. To us. Our kind. And it's all your fault. All of it. And you're going to help us, whether you like it or not." Zack's eyes burned into Lydecker, so intense it was almost painful.
"I tried to help you," Lydecker choked. "It was the."
"I don't care what you tried to do. The point is that after the fact, you hid. You were a coward, and you know it. And I think that you should accept the chance to redeem yourself that I'm offering."
"What did you have in mind?" Lydecker asked.
"Terminal City need supplies. They need as much help as they can get. They need information on Manticore, and on a whole hell of a lot else. I have a feeling you can help with that."
"They need leadership first," Lydecker pointed out.
"They already have leadership," Zack spat.
"Who?" Lydecker asked, genuinely curious.
"Max and Alec," the names rolled confidently of the X5's tongue.
"Alec?" Lydecker asked, dumbfounded.
"Alec is," Zack tried to remember something about the X5. "Ben's twin."
"X5-494?" Lydecker asked incredulously.
"We aren't numbers, 'Deck." Zack said warningly.
"No matter," Lydecker replied distractedly. "494 and 493 were the only ones with that same genetic sequence. He was," Lydecker began, but Zack cut him off.
"That doesn't matter. You're coming to Seattle, no questions asked. Hey, you might be somewhat valuable to them. I don't know. All I do know is that we can't afford to have you going off and associating with the enemy. If you're just another disposable Ordinary, well, I think you can guess what'll come of that. So I suggest you come along, and keep quiet, while you think of some impressive information to divulge."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alec found the Fulton Building with little trouble; he'd been there once or twice before. The nearby area was pretty much deserted, besides the small group of Xs that were housed a few streets down. It was getting late anyway. The Xs down this way were young, they'd all be out prowling the night at this time.
Alec opened the rusted door of the building slowly, looking around as he walked in. He climbed the old staircase gradually, as if frightened they might cave in. However, he made it safely to the third floor. He walked almost apprehensively to the second door on the right, digging the keys out of his pocket. He jammed one of the identical keys into the lock and turned. He pulled the key back out and reached out to turn the handle. He paused briefly, the pushed the door open.
He took in everything about the room, which had obviously been fixed up recently. He grinned slightly at the thought of Luke, Dix, and Mole cleaning the small room. It had undoubtedly been a studio at one time; the design was definitely meant to cater to dynamics. But none of that could surpass what sat in the middle of the room: a very expensive looking baby grand. It had to be years old, but it didn't look it. And besides, a piano was a piano.
Alec sat down on the black bench, running his fingers lightly over the cold, smooth keys. They brought back so many memories, both good and bad. He positioned his finger appropriately and began to play.
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata. Rachel had always loved it when he'd played it. It was the first one he'd learned for the mission, and one of his personal favorites. All twenty four pages of it.
He knew the music like the back of his hand, and it was obvious that the talent came naturally to him, even more so than any other son or daughter of Manticore. He finished the piece in good time, savoring the beauty of the composition for as long as possible. He'd always had a certain appreciation for music. When he'd completed the sonata, he decided to play the only other appropriate piece that came to mind.
The only appropriate piece to ever play on a piano.
The only appropriate piece to tear his heart to shreds.
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3.
He played so gracefully, his fingers seemed to glide across the keys as the music flowed beautifully through the room. But to Alec, there was no music. Just the pain cutting through him, the memories. And the pain.
After he'd finished the piece, he stood and knelt next to the bench he'd previously been sitting on. There had to be something in there. Something to distract him from his thoughts. He opened the small hinged lid, revealing multiple books of music, all from before the Pulse. He grabbed one of the first books that he found. 'Famous Ballads of the Century'. Good enough. He turned to the first page of printed music and read the title.
Aerosmith. One of those pre-Pulse rock bands that had just stuck around forever. Alec had heard some of their tracks on his missions, and quite a bit more of them after Manticore had gone down. When he'd been learning piano back before the Berrisford Mission, his superiors wanted his teaching to be diverse. He remembered the one that one of the supervisors had suggested. It was one of Aerosmith's love songs, from a movie, if Alec's memory served him correctly. I Don't Want To Miss A Thing. He placed his fingers accordingly and began to play.
After finishing the older ballad, he paused briefly, staring at the keys. Memories flooded his mind, but he shook his violently to free himself from their murderous holds. He quickly turned the page of the thick piano book to the next song.
Lifehouse. What kind of name is that? It wasn't even a word, he was sure of that. But as he began to play the song printed in the volume in front of him, he began to think that even if they couldn't name themselves something that actually had a logical meaning, they could at least put together a decent love song. This piece 'Breathing' was pretty good. But these decent love songs were starting to get to Alec. The memories of his past were beginning to blur his thoughts. He considered looking for a different genre of music to play, but instead violently batted at the pages of the book, revealing the next song.
Interesting. It was a Japanese song, he'd learned the language back at Manticore, and you didn't see much of them in the States anymore. Suteki Da Ne. Again, Alec could swear it was featured in a movie, or a video game, or something. He played it with just as much proficiency as the previous songs, though being as it was written at a slower tempo, and with more classical dynamics, it seemed somewhat longer than some of the other 'ballads.' He flipped the page once again.
Now this was old, but no less appealing. The Beetles, to be exact. Let It Be. It was more of an upbeat sort of song, though too slow for his liking. So, he took the liberty of speeding it up a few notches. It ended up sounded much more jazz like than the original, but still a true work of genius. It wasn't long before he'd ended his modified version of the traditional work. He turned the page once again.
Hmm. Linkin Park. An alternative rock band of sorts, if he wasn't mistaken. He'd actually benefited from some of their insightful music. But this was one he hadn't heard before. My December. Interesting choice of title. But fitting, Alec thought as he scanned the lyrics printed below the varying notes. Very Fitting. And so, he decided that it was worth his time to play. It was a slow, almost melancholy piece; the kind that was so simply haunting that it sent chills up your spine, though Alec, being trained and bred to control his actions, was able to stop such a motion. The song surely live up to its name, it was so cold, so possessive, though meaningful. And easy to relate to. But it wasn't long before Alec found himself looking at the next piece in the book.
Goo Goo Dolls. Iris. It was a vague title, but Alec wasn't distracted enough not to catch the underlying meaning. And he liked that element of vagueness. And the name of the group was amusing enough. He had time to waste. No one was around. No would hear little old Alec playing him piano long into the night. Why not play a few more? And so, he played through the song.
'One last song,' he thought to himself, looking out the window at the continuously darkening sky. He didn't want to push his luck in discretion too far. So he flipped one last page for the night, to a very fitting title.
Alec grinned upon scanning the piece. Journey. One of those classic rock bands. Don't Stop Believing. A sort of symbolic song he supposed, for their situation. Corny, yeah, but still significant. He knew the song; he'd swiped a few CDs on one of his early heists after the destruction of Manticore, Journey's Escape having been one of them. As he began to play, he unconsciously started to sing along.
Just a small town girl, Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere
Just a city boy, Born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night
Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on
Streetlights, people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights, people
He smiled slightly as he finished, somewhat satisfied that he was so well versed in music that he knew every word to such a classic song. And that, in his opinion, he sounded half-ways decent in singing it.
He reached up to close the book in front of him and return it to its place when he was caught off guard by a barely audible whisper coming from behind him.
"Journey, right? Nice choice."
A/N: Yes, I realize the conversation between Alec and Mole was somewhat scripted, and I apologize. If you have any ideas on how I could make it more natural, please feel free to let me know what you're thinking. Also, yes, the way I write the characters differ from other authors, and I hope this doesn't confuse you. It's just the way that I picture them, and I also believe that it's enjoyable to read a new take on things once in a while.
Anyway, all of the songs featured in this chapter in the piano scene were ideas from my friends and also a few authors on here. If you get confused by some of the references here, I apologize. So here we go:
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata was for Emily and Elizabeth (The Twins); you are too cool. Thank you for letting me borrow the piano music until I got my own copy, you guys are great!
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3. Was based from the music from Berrisford Agenda, and also one of my new pieces for piano, so that's the reasoning for that.
Aerosmith's I Don't Want To Miss A Thing was for Samantha and Shannon, my two wonderful cousins, who went crazy for that song along with me when the movie Armageddon came out. Love Ya!
Lifehouse's Breathing was for all of my 'guy' friends, especially 'Boeschy', many of whom I've danced with to this song. You're all great!
The Japanese 'Suteki Da Ne' was for Caralyn, Vinny, Dan, and Nathan. You asked, I complied. I hope this is a decent fix for your Anime Obsession, which I still don't understand! LOL! And this is from Final Fantasy X, the PlayStation 2 Video Game, if you're wondering.
The Beetles' Let It Be was, in short, for me. It was my first concert piano solo piece, and I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who put up with listening to it for so long! LOL! Heck, even those of you who had no clue about The Beetles' leaned the whole song!
Linkin Park's My December was for Amanda. Eminem really never wrote an appropriate love song, so this will have to be acceptable! LOL!
Goo Goo Doll's Iris was Brin's idea; thank you so much! BTW, great new chapter; if you haven't read her stuff, go read! It's awesome!
And Journey's Don't Stop Believing was 1.) for Emily, cause she actually knew it! 2.) because it's one of my favorite 'classic', if you want to call it that, rock song, and 3.) because I was watching the Wedding Singer while I was writing.
Ok, done now.
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!
-AntipodeanOpaleye
