He wasn't really sure why he'd let Irma talk him into it. Maybe he was
hoping he wouldn't recognize himself when she was done, that he would be
able to look into a mirror for once and not feel like he was looking at a
familiar face. A familiar one, but not his own. Maybe he was hoping Spike's
shadow could be cut away as easily as the hair could. Maybe, like Irma
said, it was just time for a change. What ever the reason, though, he
wouldn't have done it, if he'd known how his old... how *Spike's* old
comrades were going to react to it.
He sighed now, as he looked into the bathroom mirror, and couldn't help but picture the shocked looks on their faces, mouths hanging to the ground, eyes the size of baseballs. He couldn't have felt more self- conscious if a second head had suddenly sprouted up on his shoulders. Faye especially. The look in her eyes... it was like he'd defiled something sacred.
Hell, it wasn't really like he could blame her. Not when he himself felt like he'd defiled something sacred. And it wasn't really much of an improvement. It may have been shorter, but it was no tamer than before, still managing to stick straight up as if it were immune to all laws of physics and nature. Unless, that is, he had it weighed down under a ton of styling gel. . . as he did now. But who had time to spend an hour a day fixing their hair?
He was fighting a losing battle.
He splashed some water on his face, and toweled it dry, scrubbing the terry cloth across his face until it stung, before throwing the towel onto the floor.
With a growl, he wrenched the door open, and headed down the hall to where the four of them had been reading for hours, trying to sift through the 'Good Doctor's' journal. That's why he'd had to go to the bathroom. . . well he hadn't needed to go to the bathroom, he'd just been desperate to do anything to get his circulation going. That, and he couldn't help but notice his companions looking up from their datapads every so often to check on him. As if his hair might magically re-appear if they kept looking. It was starting to get on his nerves.
"I don't know, I don't think it looked too bad," Jet tried to be the voice of reason.
"What do you mean, 'I don't think it looked too bad?'" Faye said, shakily sucking on a cigarette. "Did you see it? I can't believe he would do such a thing! It just feels wrong."
Jet shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "The kid just can't win with you, can he? What difference does it make to you if he cuts his hair? Listen, I was just as shocked as you, at first, but the fact of the matter is, it's his hair, not Spike's. The sooner you realize that, the better."
Faye blinked. The words stung like a physical slap. It was sort of funny to realize that it was true, that despite the fact that she told herself every second of every day that Corbin was not Spike, she still managed to forget. Well, maybe she didn't exactly *forget* but she didn't always remember either. Why?
Because even though he's not Spike, he still feels right, she answered herself. He fits.
She bit her lip, hating that statement, hating that it was true. He'd waltzed onto her ship, he'd waltzed into their lives, and proceeded to become part of the action without so much as missing a beat. And she hated him for it, because she was beginning to suspect. . .
She left the thought dangling there, broken off by the sudden entrance of Corbin himself. He looked around, noticing the glare Faye shot in his direction, but refusing to acknowledge it with so much as an eye twitch. He did it just to annoy her, and it worked. Always had.
The rest of her thought still hung in the air, though, unfinished, but almost tangible. She wasn't ready to wrap her mind around it quite yet, but it went something like this. . . she didn't hate him at all.
"So, where's Ed?"
"Catching a few Z's in Faye's room, she was up pretty late last night," Jet answered.
Corbin nodded, half smile on his face, and stretched his arms over his head in a manner that said "I can relate," more clearly than any verbalization, and Faye had to smile. They had worn themselves out pretty good last night.
'. . . I have to say, I didn't expect success so soon. When I first started working on the Eden project four months ago, I thought it would be years before my research reached the stages of practical testing, but I was very wrong. The state of the art technology the syndicate supplies has really cut down on the time. . . so much so, that our first 'child' was born today, though she isn't really much of a child, since all subjects are accelerated to a state of maturity before they are brought to life, so to speak.
'I call her Lillith, and she is the future. She is resistant to all forms of disease, and has a dizzying I.Q. and thanks to an information download process that I appropriated from another syndicate project, she has a head full of facts. . . The first thing she did upon drawing breath was to ask me a question about Einstein's theory of relativity.
'I'm so excited, and I have a feeling that my discoveries will change the world'- March 16, 2070
'. . . Lillith is progressing wonderfully, she's actually taking on the role of an assistant to me, helping me when I work late in the lab, and giving me ideas. It's terrific working with her. She's so kind and caring, and it's just good to know that after dealing with those syndicate officials, I can come back to the lab and be with her. She always calms me down. . .' - December 2, 2070
'. . . I have broken my code of ethics today, and I don't even care! Lillith is so wonderful, I know I'm in love with her, and that she loves me too, and that makes it all worth it, doesn't it?
'There's no way that Dimitri, the man who runs this facility, will let us leave, so we're going to have to run away, but we'll at least be together. We will be leaving in a week, and starting a new life.
'I can't wait to marry her.'- May 29, 2071
'We were so close. . . so close.
'They showed up today, to tell me that my project was put on a back burner, and that they had something special for me to work on in the meantime. They said that given my area of expertise, I'd be perfect for the job.
'It's was just an excuse, though. the truth is that they are afraid of my work!
'I tried to reason with them, but they just wouldn't listen. . . they confiscated everything. EVERYTHING! Even Lillith. To them she is just another piece of research, just another lab rat. . . it makes me sick to think what they're doing to her. . . in a cage somewhere, when she should be in my arms right now, far away from this place. I don't know what I'm going to do. . .' -June 1, 2071
'She's growing. I've hidden her away in a locked room, where no one will find her. No one will even bother looking. I put her in the room that they kept Lillith in, but she's gone now. . . long gone. . . oh my darling, if only you could see our daughter, she is beautiful.
'She will help us get our revenge. She will help bring down those who hurt us. She is not like you, my darling, she is different. She is strong. Strong enough to make them pay for what they did to you. . . I can still see your body, the way that I found you. Dissected like a frog. They were afraid of you, my Lillith, that's why they pulled the plug on our project. Dumb, insecure little mortals, afraid of God, so they have to destroy Eden. But the time will come when they all bow before my creations.
'I know it can't bring you back, but I will have my vengeance on the human race.
'Our daughter is but the beginning of my plans. . .' February 15, 2072
Corbin put down the datapad, rubbed his eyes, and re-read the last passage. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The doctor had obviously gone insane. And the daughter he mentioned could be none other than Eve. Finally, it looked like they were getting somewhere.
"Hey, guys," he said, his voice grittier than usual against his parched throat, "have either of you gotten to February 2072 yet?"
Jet mumbled an "umf", to indicate a negative, and Faye shook her head and yawned.
"Well, then, you might want skip ahead a little bit. He mentions a 'daughter' in one of these entries, probably Eve." He gave them a minute to scroll down the page to the proper passages, before continuing. "Do you see it? February 15, he's gone nutty!"
"Hmm. . ." Faye said, half a minute later.
"What?" Corbin asked. He wasn't sure he liked her tone.
"You might want to read a little further on."
'. . . those syndicate elders, such fools! Did they really think that they could stop progress, that they could stop me from doing God's work? I AM GOD'S HANDS! And it is time for a cleansing. The revolution is upon us.
'I've been borrowing equipment, and I've been working on my troops. My creations will rule the world.
'It won't be long now, I have my queen, but I'm still working on a mate, someone who will be her equal, not like the drones I've created in the sub- standard lab I set up for myself away from prying syndicate eyes... the subjects are showing great progress. Stupid, stupid elders... did you think I wouldn't find a way to continue my work? It was tricky though, the genetic structure couldn't be noticeably different from that of the primary donor. . . initially, that is. I think I have that worked out now, though. Soon, I will have my revenge, and then. . . the dawning of a new age is upon us.'- November 22, 2072
November 22, 2072. . . roughly 2 months before Corbin's 'birth'.
He thought his throat was dry before. He heaved himself out of the armchair, and went into the kitchen without saying another word. He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and slammed it onto the counter.
"What's wrong?" Faye. Wasn't it pretty fucking obvious?
"What do you mean?" he asked, gruffly, not really inviting an answer. He opened another cupboard, and slammed it shut again almost immediately. "Don't you have any alcohol?" he closed his eyes, and leaned his hands on the counter. He would not be overwhelmed... he would not. He just wouldn't think about it.
He stiffened when he felt Faye pressed against his back, and opened his eyes wide in shock. She was standing on her tip-toes, and reaching over his shoulder to open the cupboard. He cheek brushed his as she stretched further, and he tried to ignore the heat of her body, but her nearness was discomforting. He inhaled sharply, as she lunged forward slightly, causing his hip to dig into the counter, he frowned, what was she playing at?
He realized soon enough, when she pushed aside a bag of flour, and grabbed the bottle behind it, pulling it down, and filling his glass without a word. He slipped his hand around it, but she pulled it from his nerveless fingers, downing it herself, before placing it back on the counter, and re- filling it. Corbin shuddered as she pulled away from him, it felt like she was pulling some part of himself along with her, leaving him hollow.
He smirked, nothing better to fill his void than bourbon and cigarette smoke. He drew a cigarette out of his pack, and lit it, welcoming the black smoke into his lungs, and slamming back his glass before turning to face Faye.
She had retreated to the kitchen table, and was busy pulling comfort from a tube, just like him.
"He's fucking crazy," he answered abruptly.
Faye blinked, and looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, but we'd sort of guessed that already."
"He's planning a revolution, with me at the fucking head! The guys not just crazy, he's stupid." He laughed, humorlessly, the harsh sounds bouncing off the walls, reverberating back into his ears. "I can't believe this."
"He's going to have to be stopped," Jet's voice from the doorway. How long had he been standing there?
"Why? He can't do anything without me, and he can't make another 'mate' for his little girl now that the lab's been trashed. He's harmless."
Jet shook his head, "you know that isn't true. He has his own lab. . . not quite the facility he had in Lansing-Medcalf, but he said himself, it was good enough for him to make his 'troops' in. He's had years to work at this. . . who knows how many there are. Besides, how many people would jump at the chance to fund his research? I think even Kataki would be drooling at the prospect of Dr. VanHausen on the payroll. Besides, there's always Eve, she'll pursue you relentlessly as long as Dominic lives. You fancy a life of running?"
A flash. Shock in his joints as his feet pounded the pavement, the heavy reassurance of a gun in his hand. He fired off two shots, then threw himself behind a parked car. He could see a silver haired man in the side mirror of the car in front of him, and was overcome byt the urge to run. This was life. But not his life.
Corbin bit his lip. Spike was the runner, not him. He would face this thing head on.
He sighed now, as he looked into the bathroom mirror, and couldn't help but picture the shocked looks on their faces, mouths hanging to the ground, eyes the size of baseballs. He couldn't have felt more self- conscious if a second head had suddenly sprouted up on his shoulders. Faye especially. The look in her eyes... it was like he'd defiled something sacred.
Hell, it wasn't really like he could blame her. Not when he himself felt like he'd defiled something sacred. And it wasn't really much of an improvement. It may have been shorter, but it was no tamer than before, still managing to stick straight up as if it were immune to all laws of physics and nature. Unless, that is, he had it weighed down under a ton of styling gel. . . as he did now. But who had time to spend an hour a day fixing their hair?
He was fighting a losing battle.
He splashed some water on his face, and toweled it dry, scrubbing the terry cloth across his face until it stung, before throwing the towel onto the floor.
With a growl, he wrenched the door open, and headed down the hall to where the four of them had been reading for hours, trying to sift through the 'Good Doctor's' journal. That's why he'd had to go to the bathroom. . . well he hadn't needed to go to the bathroom, he'd just been desperate to do anything to get his circulation going. That, and he couldn't help but notice his companions looking up from their datapads every so often to check on him. As if his hair might magically re-appear if they kept looking. It was starting to get on his nerves.
"I don't know, I don't think it looked too bad," Jet tried to be the voice of reason.
"What do you mean, 'I don't think it looked too bad?'" Faye said, shakily sucking on a cigarette. "Did you see it? I can't believe he would do such a thing! It just feels wrong."
Jet shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "The kid just can't win with you, can he? What difference does it make to you if he cuts his hair? Listen, I was just as shocked as you, at first, but the fact of the matter is, it's his hair, not Spike's. The sooner you realize that, the better."
Faye blinked. The words stung like a physical slap. It was sort of funny to realize that it was true, that despite the fact that she told herself every second of every day that Corbin was not Spike, she still managed to forget. Well, maybe she didn't exactly *forget* but she didn't always remember either. Why?
Because even though he's not Spike, he still feels right, she answered herself. He fits.
She bit her lip, hating that statement, hating that it was true. He'd waltzed onto her ship, he'd waltzed into their lives, and proceeded to become part of the action without so much as missing a beat. And she hated him for it, because she was beginning to suspect. . .
She left the thought dangling there, broken off by the sudden entrance of Corbin himself. He looked around, noticing the glare Faye shot in his direction, but refusing to acknowledge it with so much as an eye twitch. He did it just to annoy her, and it worked. Always had.
The rest of her thought still hung in the air, though, unfinished, but almost tangible. She wasn't ready to wrap her mind around it quite yet, but it went something like this. . . she didn't hate him at all.
"So, where's Ed?"
"Catching a few Z's in Faye's room, she was up pretty late last night," Jet answered.
Corbin nodded, half smile on his face, and stretched his arms over his head in a manner that said "I can relate," more clearly than any verbalization, and Faye had to smile. They had worn themselves out pretty good last night.
'. . . I have to say, I didn't expect success so soon. When I first started working on the Eden project four months ago, I thought it would be years before my research reached the stages of practical testing, but I was very wrong. The state of the art technology the syndicate supplies has really cut down on the time. . . so much so, that our first 'child' was born today, though she isn't really much of a child, since all subjects are accelerated to a state of maturity before they are brought to life, so to speak.
'I call her Lillith, and she is the future. She is resistant to all forms of disease, and has a dizzying I.Q. and thanks to an information download process that I appropriated from another syndicate project, she has a head full of facts. . . The first thing she did upon drawing breath was to ask me a question about Einstein's theory of relativity.
'I'm so excited, and I have a feeling that my discoveries will change the world'- March 16, 2070
'. . . Lillith is progressing wonderfully, she's actually taking on the role of an assistant to me, helping me when I work late in the lab, and giving me ideas. It's terrific working with her. She's so kind and caring, and it's just good to know that after dealing with those syndicate officials, I can come back to the lab and be with her. She always calms me down. . .' - December 2, 2070
'. . . I have broken my code of ethics today, and I don't even care! Lillith is so wonderful, I know I'm in love with her, and that she loves me too, and that makes it all worth it, doesn't it?
'There's no way that Dimitri, the man who runs this facility, will let us leave, so we're going to have to run away, but we'll at least be together. We will be leaving in a week, and starting a new life.
'I can't wait to marry her.'- May 29, 2071
'We were so close. . . so close.
'They showed up today, to tell me that my project was put on a back burner, and that they had something special for me to work on in the meantime. They said that given my area of expertise, I'd be perfect for the job.
'It's was just an excuse, though. the truth is that they are afraid of my work!
'I tried to reason with them, but they just wouldn't listen. . . they confiscated everything. EVERYTHING! Even Lillith. To them she is just another piece of research, just another lab rat. . . it makes me sick to think what they're doing to her. . . in a cage somewhere, when she should be in my arms right now, far away from this place. I don't know what I'm going to do. . .' -June 1, 2071
'She's growing. I've hidden her away in a locked room, where no one will find her. No one will even bother looking. I put her in the room that they kept Lillith in, but she's gone now. . . long gone. . . oh my darling, if only you could see our daughter, she is beautiful.
'She will help us get our revenge. She will help bring down those who hurt us. She is not like you, my darling, she is different. She is strong. Strong enough to make them pay for what they did to you. . . I can still see your body, the way that I found you. Dissected like a frog. They were afraid of you, my Lillith, that's why they pulled the plug on our project. Dumb, insecure little mortals, afraid of God, so they have to destroy Eden. But the time will come when they all bow before my creations.
'I know it can't bring you back, but I will have my vengeance on the human race.
'Our daughter is but the beginning of my plans. . .' February 15, 2072
Corbin put down the datapad, rubbed his eyes, and re-read the last passage. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The doctor had obviously gone insane. And the daughter he mentioned could be none other than Eve. Finally, it looked like they were getting somewhere.
"Hey, guys," he said, his voice grittier than usual against his parched throat, "have either of you gotten to February 2072 yet?"
Jet mumbled an "umf", to indicate a negative, and Faye shook her head and yawned.
"Well, then, you might want skip ahead a little bit. He mentions a 'daughter' in one of these entries, probably Eve." He gave them a minute to scroll down the page to the proper passages, before continuing. "Do you see it? February 15, he's gone nutty!"
"Hmm. . ." Faye said, half a minute later.
"What?" Corbin asked. He wasn't sure he liked her tone.
"You might want to read a little further on."
'. . . those syndicate elders, such fools! Did they really think that they could stop progress, that they could stop me from doing God's work? I AM GOD'S HANDS! And it is time for a cleansing. The revolution is upon us.
'I've been borrowing equipment, and I've been working on my troops. My creations will rule the world.
'It won't be long now, I have my queen, but I'm still working on a mate, someone who will be her equal, not like the drones I've created in the sub- standard lab I set up for myself away from prying syndicate eyes... the subjects are showing great progress. Stupid, stupid elders... did you think I wouldn't find a way to continue my work? It was tricky though, the genetic structure couldn't be noticeably different from that of the primary donor. . . initially, that is. I think I have that worked out now, though. Soon, I will have my revenge, and then. . . the dawning of a new age is upon us.'- November 22, 2072
November 22, 2072. . . roughly 2 months before Corbin's 'birth'.
He thought his throat was dry before. He heaved himself out of the armchair, and went into the kitchen without saying another word. He pulled a cup out of the cupboard and slammed it onto the counter.
"What's wrong?" Faye. Wasn't it pretty fucking obvious?
"What do you mean?" he asked, gruffly, not really inviting an answer. He opened another cupboard, and slammed it shut again almost immediately. "Don't you have any alcohol?" he closed his eyes, and leaned his hands on the counter. He would not be overwhelmed... he would not. He just wouldn't think about it.
He stiffened when he felt Faye pressed against his back, and opened his eyes wide in shock. She was standing on her tip-toes, and reaching over his shoulder to open the cupboard. He cheek brushed his as she stretched further, and he tried to ignore the heat of her body, but her nearness was discomforting. He inhaled sharply, as she lunged forward slightly, causing his hip to dig into the counter, he frowned, what was she playing at?
He realized soon enough, when she pushed aside a bag of flour, and grabbed the bottle behind it, pulling it down, and filling his glass without a word. He slipped his hand around it, but she pulled it from his nerveless fingers, downing it herself, before placing it back on the counter, and re- filling it. Corbin shuddered as she pulled away from him, it felt like she was pulling some part of himself along with her, leaving him hollow.
He smirked, nothing better to fill his void than bourbon and cigarette smoke. He drew a cigarette out of his pack, and lit it, welcoming the black smoke into his lungs, and slamming back his glass before turning to face Faye.
She had retreated to the kitchen table, and was busy pulling comfort from a tube, just like him.
"He's fucking crazy," he answered abruptly.
Faye blinked, and looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, but we'd sort of guessed that already."
"He's planning a revolution, with me at the fucking head! The guys not just crazy, he's stupid." He laughed, humorlessly, the harsh sounds bouncing off the walls, reverberating back into his ears. "I can't believe this."
"He's going to have to be stopped," Jet's voice from the doorway. How long had he been standing there?
"Why? He can't do anything without me, and he can't make another 'mate' for his little girl now that the lab's been trashed. He's harmless."
Jet shook his head, "you know that isn't true. He has his own lab. . . not quite the facility he had in Lansing-Medcalf, but he said himself, it was good enough for him to make his 'troops' in. He's had years to work at this. . . who knows how many there are. Besides, how many people would jump at the chance to fund his research? I think even Kataki would be drooling at the prospect of Dr. VanHausen on the payroll. Besides, there's always Eve, she'll pursue you relentlessly as long as Dominic lives. You fancy a life of running?"
A flash. Shock in his joints as his feet pounded the pavement, the heavy reassurance of a gun in his hand. He fired off two shots, then threw himself behind a parked car. He could see a silver haired man in the side mirror of the car in front of him, and was overcome byt the urge to run. This was life. But not his life.
Corbin bit his lip. Spike was the runner, not him. He would face this thing head on.
