He was crying again. The young soldier stood still, watching Zack's sleeping form in his cot, watching his tiny chest rise and fall, trying to remember her orders, ignore – but she couldn't. Her eyes flicked to Georgie's bed on the other side of the nursery, with the other carers'. The other X3 was still fast asleep.
'She shouldn't be,' the girl thought, 'A good carer wouldn't be.'
Quietly she slipped in between the rows of cots until she stood in front of the source of the noise … Ben. Tenderly she lifted the wailing infant into her arms and rocked him softly. Soothing him. Her enhanced sense of smell had already confirmed that he was still dry, but it had been a while since he'd been fed. She guessed he was merely hungry.
Before she had even realised what she was doing, her spare hand undid the top of her hospital gown and slipped out of the sleeve so that it hung loosely off one shoulder like a roman toga.
Checking that Georgie was still undisturbed, she lifted the child delicately to her newly exposed teat. He knew what to do immediately. The twelve-year-old girl almost sighed with relief as the pent-up store of milk flowed from her aching body.
Kitty awoke in her bed, shivering. It had been a long time since she had had a dream like that, but she knew why they had come back. She pulled the blanket over her head, trying to get back to sleep, but she couldn't block out the thoughts.
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The night-staff at Sunderman Labs were also wishing they could catch some 'z's, but someone had to take care of the laboratories at night and, to earn some hard cash in this god-awful depression, they were the someones stupid enough to sign away their chance of a normal sleeping-pattern. So here they were at some god-forsaken hour of the morning, drowning tons of coffee or trying to avoid being caught dozing in a corner.
Alan Midway had belonged to this lifeless group of layabouts for nearly four years now, but the pale man in his early fifties had yet to make any real friends here. He rarely bothered speaking to the six other lab-techs, night-watchmen, cleaners and so on that got stuck in the building once the sun went down. He preferred it this way, no friends, no family, no complications … it was safer.
The man heard glass smash behind him in the lab. Well, he thought he did, but when he turned around to check there was no one there … he must be imagining things.
Alan turned back to the experiment he was meant to be monitoring. It was a tank full of water, hardly the most exciting thing, but apparently they had done something to the fish in there. Actually, he knew exactly what. They had switched their genes with jellyfish to make them glow when they were agitated. He even knew which genes they had switched; the … he checked the thought quickly. He was a lab-tech, remember, he didn't know anything about this stuff. It was all part of the mysteries of science that were above totally his meagre comprehension. Was that somebody behind him?
Spinning around, he raised his fists … there was no one there. Taking no chances he inspected the entire lab. He checked under the benches, behind the door, even in the large cupboard pushed in its dusty corner … Nothing.
Alan sank down on a bench stool, raising one pale hand to his clammy forehead. He was beginning to get paranoid. All that business a couple of years back with that place … which had burned down now anyway … still it was driving him crazy, maybe he should go on a vacation. Somewhere warm. After all it had burned down … it ought to be safe.
That was when he spotted the smashed beaker on the floor.
Before he could react, a hand gripped his throat. Sharp nails dug into his skin. He tried to scream – he couldn't breathe. Something was pulling him backwards, away from the bench, his arms flailed uselessly about him. He could feel the ragged breath of some creature at his neck. Was it going to eat him?
"This is for my sister," a horse voice whispered close to his ear.
"W-whha …" he managed to gasp – and then he was plunged headfirst into the tank of water. Gradually his struggling frame grew weaker, before finally going limp all together.
It wasn't until the start of the next shift that he was discovered, lying in a puddle on the floor, dead eyes staring glazedly at the tank from which he had been allowed to slip once he had gone limp – the occupants of which, incidentally, were all glowing bright orange.
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"This had better be good, Logan!" Max called as she strolled into the older man's apartment.
"It's not, Max." Logan had a serious look on his face, as he turned away from his computer, "There's been another murder."
"Another! Sixth one this month, isn't it?"
"Yep - and it looks like there's gonna be more. The police still haven't come up with anything. People are really scared out there and – in case you haven't noticed - the media isn't exactly doing much to help matters."
"Serial killer makes great air-time," Max sighed, "Big chance for every news correspondent, come crime specialist to get their face on the screen."
"Uh-huh,"
"So …" Max smiled, letting herself fall on the sofa, "What does the great Eyes-Only need his favourite cat-burglar to for him?"
"Oh please!" a voice groaned from the doorway.
She shot up immediately, eyes wide in shock, "Alec! What are you doing here?"
"I asked him to come," Logan explained, turning back to his computer, "Thought you could use some back-up."
"Thank you Logan," Max muttered, her voice seething with indignation, "I can decide whether I need someone to come back up my ass for myself you know!"
"Hey!" Alec yelled, "I didn't volunteer for that! – Not that I mind though..." His eyes lowered to the area in question - Max kicked him.
"Well," Alec took the position Max had vacated on the coach, rubbing his shin, "Could be worse, Maxie, your boyfriend over there could have decided we're not worthy again and got those damn X3s to run the show for us!"
"We're not even like that!" the girl snapped, in automatic response to the boyfriend reference.
Logan, however, suddenly had a rather guilty look on his face. The two transgenics shoot each other a worried look.
"Tell me you didn't." Max gasped.
… and then the doorbell rang.
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Five minutes later a sulking Max and an indignant Alec were seated on the opposite side of the dining-room table from the two X3s, whom Logan had finally induced as Nick and Kitty, and who – actually looked quite calm and relaxed. Quite remarkable, considering the looks the two X5s were giving them.
"So what do need us to do?" the female, Kitty, asked once Logan had poured her cup of tea – she didn't drink coffee apparently.
Logan shot Max a look that made her swallow her own response to that question and began, "Well, I guess you guys have heard about the murders …"
Nick nodded, "Kinda hard to miss. Every time you happen to pass a TV or a newsstand it's 'Vicious Serial Killer Lose In Seattle! Police Still Have No Clue As To Identity!'"
"Yeah," Logan smiled, "Thing is, they've got a new head of the Seattle Police and it turns out he's a pretty smart one too."
Max snorted, "Huh! Compliment from the great Eyes Only – wish he knew how honoured he was,"
Logan shot her an angry glance. She paled, "Oh My God! Did I just say that?"
Kitty almost grinned, "That's okay, Max, we knew anyway. Took one look at your boy's eyes and our genetically enhanced retina recognition systems went hotwire. "
"He's not my boy," Max muttered uncomfortably.
"That's not what the pheromone level in this room is telling me," Nick retorted.
"Enhanced sense of smell too, " Kitty explained.
"Anyway!" Logan interrupted, wondering if they would ever get to the point, "The new chief's put all the data from the murder case onto his home computer with no internet connection – and he only uses classified paper files around the office – which makes the whole thing pretty darn impossible to hack into."
"So you need us to go grab one of these classified paper files from the office, right?" Max interrupted, "You know, I could have done that on my own!"
"Unfortunately he only seems to distribute information on a need-to-know basis, which means that all of those files are incomplete."
"So you need us to go download the data from the home computer," Kitty finished.
"Basically … yes."
Nick finished his cup of coffee in one gulp. "Got a map of the facility?"
Logan disappeared for minute, before re-emerging from his computer with a rolled up sheet of paper, which he then spread out on the tabletop.
"Huh! This guy sure does like security," Kitty sounded impressed.
"The place's a lock-box!" Max cried in dismay, "And this is just what we know about! How're we gonna get in there?"
Nick looked up, "First problems the guards and the motion sensors in the grounds. If you and Alec take out the guards here by the guardhouse – that'll give me and Kitsey time to disable the sensors."
"Then," Kitty went on, "You two can enter into the Control Room, using the window here, if you're fast enough that will give you time to disable the alarms before they go off. It'll probably be something like the red button on a big metal box on the wall. These systems are terribly old-fashioned – still damn effective though."
"While you're doing that," Nick continued, "Kitty-Cat and I will take out the guard-dogs here and enter the computer room to retrieve the data here. You should be able to monitor us on the surveillance system."
"When you see us leave the room," Kitty finished, "You can get the hell out of there. If all four of us split up and we make our way individually back here – to Logan's – that'll cut down the chances of us being followed. All agreed?"
"Huh?" Max looked up surprised.
"Do you agree with our plan," Kitty asked, "Or would you like to suggest one of your own?" Oddly enough, she managed to say that without sounding patronising.
"Yours is fine," Alec murmured quickly.
"So when are we gonna do this?" Logan asked, a glow of excitement on his face. He was the only one in the room who looked anything close to that.
"I'd say tonight," Kitty said.
"Fine!" Max snapped.
"Max," Kitty sounded surprised, "I'm not giving an order, I'm only asking."
"Sounds more like your deciding for us – where I come from, that's called ordering," Max muttered.
Kitty shook her head, "I only think that if we leave it, at the rate of these murders, somebody could die before we even get there. That's all – I'm not trying to be your CO."
Max shrugged her shoulders. "Tonight," she finally agreed.
Nick sighed, still gazing at the map, "I don't like it."
A shocked silence filled the room. Don't like it? From the guy who'd just made most of the plan?
"I mean – the Seattle police have always been notoriously incompetent since the pulse. Why this sudden change in the system? It smells of a trap." He scratched his head helplessly.
"I don't like it either, but we don't have a choice," Kitty retorted, "This killer has to be stopped!"
Logan and Max exchanged wary glances. They could both remember a very similar conversation not so long ago, before a different mission – one that had ended in disaster.
"Lets go home and get changed or whatever," Kitty said, "Meet you guys in twenty minutes in front of the target house." And with that they left.