Reality Check

By Rowe

Thankyou Mel for your wonderful betaeing and encouragement. Check out this and my other fics at The Broken World http://sorrow.hyperboards.com/index.cgi

Chapter 4: Things better kept hidden…

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It felt cramped in here. The smell of the fruit and vegetables was starting to really bother him too. It looked like he might have to jump ship at the next stop. Many years before he had realised that though he missed having company, he hated travelling in the company of others, or more specifically in the company of 'norms'. He had taken to stowing away in freight, whether it be truck or train. It meant he could relax, even sleep, knowing he wasn't being watched and the threat of exposure was minimal. He sighed heavily and tried to stretch all his muscles as best he could.

This time he had decided to try heading to a warmer climate, somewhere further south. Maybe a beach area where the people would be happier and far less grey and cold. He needed something to break him out of this self-reflection that was threatening to totally engulf him. His kit sat behind him and he leant back on it. It gave him a small amount of cushioning and also a little comfort. Inside was all he had left in this world.

The truck was jolting him more than he liked. Luckily he was tired enough that when he slept this wouldn't wake him. He focused his mind and gradually shut down. Still remaining alert enough to be ready for any unexplained threat, his body relaxed and let his thoughts rest. It gave him a brief chance to escape his pain; that was until the nightmares began. Filled with faces of his past. He stalked them, hunted them down, caught them and disposed of them with brutal efficiency. The worst was the one where his victim was Max.

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The sheer size of the complex astounded him as he approached the gate. It was a great reminder of the power this man must have as a place like this was not common in Post –pulse Seattle. Manticore was right to see him as a possible threat. He schooled his features and pressed the buzzer. At the request to identify, he announced himself as Simon Lehane. As the gate swung open to allow him entrance, he relaxed a little. He had made it past the first possible stumbling block, now to fully convince the occupants. He approached the large double doors and stepped into a world so different to the hard cold walls of Manticore.

Opulent. It was the only word he could find that fully encompassed the obvious money that surrounded him. The security man had allowed him entrance and lead him through to the music room. He recognised her immediately from her photo in the dossier, but her vivacity was unexpected. Keeping his focus on his job, he settled to begin the lesson with a professional aloofness that he was sure would be the 'norm'. She injected her animation into her playing. Her technique was good, but it was her emotional expression that made her playing better. Giving her the instruction to watch her dynamics made him sound like a real teacher. Well, he knew constructive criticism was essential.

With an infectious smile, she broke into a light rendition of a jaunty tune he didn't recognise. He scanned through his mind all the pieces they had made him listen to at Manticore. This definitely wasn't one of them. It was totally different, but he liked its fun playfulness. Smiling back at her, 494 told her so. Rachel's focus moved to the door, as he sensed the approaching man. This was going to be the real test of his cover. He shook the man's offered hand and introduced himself. He tensed slightly waiting for the response and relaxed when Berrisford replied. "Good to meet you son."

He watched as Berrisford moved to the piano and stroked his daughter's hair. The love between them was clearly evident. Displays of such affection were totally unfamiliar to him. He felt a little awkward but watched enthralled anyway. This world was beginning to feel very foreign to him.

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The warmth of his mother's hug helped. His father's firm shoulder grasp gave him more strength. Cain smiled back at them but they could clearly see that he was troubled. He didn't want them to know though. It would be too much to see the looks of disgust on their faces if he told them what he saw. This was something horrible he needed to keep hidden away inside him. Locked away so people could see that he had this sort of thing in his mind's imagination.

Home, the sheer normality of it all settled him further. This was where he belonged. He smiled more reassuringly at his parents, trying to convince them he was alright, that he was always alright when he was around them. "Bad day at the office." He tried to lighten the mood with a forced laugh. As they appeared to relax he felt better. This way they wouldn't push him to reveal a part of himself that scared him and would terrify them. The conversation turned to the daily grind as his mother moved off to get dinner ready. The domesticity of the act brought a genuine smile to his face. He loved it because it reminded him of how wonderful his childhood had been, wrapped up in the cocoon of love and security.

Behind his back, Cain never saw the looks of concern his parents exchanged. He didn't know that they feared far greater things than nightmares were his problem. They knew it was time, Manticore would need to know that things were changing. What they needed to know was what had triggered this haunted look in him? Had he begun to discover what he really was? His reluctance to share frightened them even more. Were they about to lose their son back into the hell that he had escaped from as a baby?

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Deck stared down at the photo of Max in his hand. This was the one he most wanted to find. Her and Zack would give him the best chance to retrieve X5-493. He knew that was not the only reason that he wanted to find her but it gave him an excuse for his emotional attachment. Those three had definitely been the driving force of the unit, the reason he so regretted their escape. The lost potential in those soldiers was a disaster. Now one of the ones with the most potential was self-destructing slowly leaving a trail of debris across the countryside that might bring them all down. Damn him for using the barcodes- it brought unwanted attention to them. The Manticore Committee was most unhappy about that fact and wanted him shut down now.

Using his own barcode was the puzzling part. It was a unique identifier, something was definitely troubled in the mind of this soldier. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and drank the now cold liquid. It was just another of the clues Ben seemed to be leaving, almost as though he hoped to be caught. It was like a giant game of Escape and Evade in which there were no geographical boundaries. Leaving little breadcrumbs along the way, he seemed to be urging them to catch him, to stop him. Lydecker shook his head, he really didn't want to have to get into the head of a psychotic killer, but 493 was issuing the invitation with every move he was making.