Thankies and general information to the following:
Attention Erol fans: Krimzon 1 and Kyoto: you can keep him, and thanks for your reviews!
Orlandobloomfn, YunieYuna, Red Hawk K'sani, jess, dOMITUPSYK, Jaks-Girl, and the Amazing Miss Mandy: thanks for your reviews!
Soran Marlovic: thank you, please don't drool on me
Hellmouth2: This fic will not contain rape, as that is something I have serious problems with. Thanks for the review!
Contains one swear word! ("damn" and "hell" don't count, damnit) It's the first (English) swear word I've used in all my J&D fanfiction. Please keep in mind this is rated PG-13.
Gotta get some characterization out of the way before we get to the fun stuff. Enjoy!
"Hey Taetra. What's the glare for? What? I didn't pocket the DE. I put it into Recycle/Containment, just like the perfect assistant I am. ...fine! Don't believe me. Mar, you look like you grabbed the wrong end of a yakkow and milked it... We get paid today, right? I wanna hit the creep joint when we're done. That girl, Number 32, you know? She was a Doxy. Mmm, sweatmeat. Seein' that pretty thing go through the Squeezer made me hungry, heh. I can't wait to rip into one of those little bitches tonight... Okay, awkward silence. Hey, remember that time you told me to double the DE on Number 68's Eco Tolerance Test, even though I told you she wasn't ready yet, but then I accidentally quadrupled it, and her hair caught fire, and her skin melted off? And she screamed and screamed! HAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAA! That was so funny! Hahahaaaaaaaaa... ahhh. So. We got a new victim, huh? Where? Oh. Him? Forgive my impudence, Oh Brilliant Menacing One, but I do believe I eavesdropped on a conversation with a certain well-hated Commander wherein your life was put against this scrawny boy's ass, which, I may add, has a daisy's chance in Dead Town of surviving your DE treatments... you're making that face again."
"Slitter. Shut. Up."
"It can't be healthy to frown like that. You'll get wrinkles. Wrinkles are ugly."
"Vackting..." It's a good thing I like you so much, boy-o, or I'd put you through that damn Squeezer.
"Okay! Your death glare is psychologically damaging enough. Last thing I need is your metal foot in my crotch." Slitter shrugged and sank into a wheeled chair. He laced his fingers behind his neck and put his heels up onto Number 75's bed. His signature, wicked grin cut across his face. "So, we cookin' him tonight, or what?"
Taetra Müssala rubbed her forehead. She could still smell Erol in her clothes; that ghastly blend of pheromones and disgust. Slitter watched her expectantly, green eyes flashing. "You're a real cute boy-o," she said after a moment, touching one finger to his cheek. Slitter made a vulgar purring noise. "But shut up."
"Ouch." He put one hand over his heart.
"We'll do preliminary things tonight; fill out the basics, maybe begin the eco tolerance. The Commander," she spat the word, "has destroyed my usual interest in haste. Slitter," she looked at him, "this one is different. He will be the Dark Warrior. But we must go on carefully."
"Carefully. Gotcha."
"Get your damn feet off the bed!"
Slitter silently swung his legs down.
"Give me the ECF. Is it still on the new screen? Good." Müssala stood at the bedside. Slitter inched the wheeled chair over, restraining the urge to spin in it. "This time, I'll state the entry questions. I want to see how much you've learned."
"Whatever pleases you." Slitter snapped long black gloves on and ran his tongue over his filed teeth.
"He's been restrained in case the examination wakes him." Müssala waved her hands over the bed, metalthorn bracelets clinking. "Look at this sweet boy," the Taetra slapped his face. "His momma loved him, you can tell. You feel that, Slitter?"
The assistant made a growly noise.
"Course you don't. You're a skáhgadah, you know that? Cruel cruel, all the way through." If natz-licker Erol hadn't pissed me off, I'd be curling up against you right now. Müssala pulled the electronic pen from the side of the ECF screen. "Given Name?"
Slitter leaned back and thought. "You said he didn't have a voice."
"Good. We'll name him later. I have one in mind that I think will fit him." Müssala skipped down to the next line. "Gender?"
Slitter snorted. "Male."
"Race?"
"Hmm." Slitter stood and turned the overhead lights up. "He ain't dark meat," he said. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, he isn't. He doesn't look Perpetuan, either. Haven, I'd bet."
Müssala wrote it in. "Yes. And what does this mean?"
"Possible higher eco tolerance. Unlucky bastard."
"Right. His momma was from where?"
Slitter slid one hand under Number 75's bloody neck and tilted his head up. "Interesting zygomatic arches... judging by the wide eyes and slim body build, I'd say Perpetua descended. Probably Eastern."
"Why?"
"Conservative muscle structure with elongated hands and feet. He definitely does not display the bulging gut of a Western."
"Right." Müssala smiled sourly. "And his father?"
"The trickier one. Hmm..." Slitter studied Number 75's scalp, pushing the bloodiest strands aside. "Green roots and yellow shafts. Bicolored hair, that's somewhat uncommon." He pressed his thumbs into the subject's temples. Number 75 groaned, face twitching in pain. Slitter walked his gloved fingers down the jawbone and searched the throat for specific tendon placement. He frowned. "Damn. Got me. Mutt?"
"Right. In the future, don't press so hard on the larynx, you could damage the trachea." Müssala touched Slitter's arm. "Didn't you hear him gasping?"
"Yeah." He snickered.
Müssala shifted her feet, beaded skirt rustling. She scanned the ECF. "Physical examination, E Factor, Past Eco Experience, Toxicity..." She sighed. "Take fluids first." She took his chair and watched him retrieve the kit from across the room. The air filled with the smell of antiseptic. "You assemble a needle faster than anyone I ever saw."
"Gotta love what you do," said Slitter, poking the tip of it into Number 75's elbow. "Ooh, look at that draw." They both watched the blood seep into the vial. "He doesn't like that very much, does he? Heh."
Number 75 blinked a few times and struggled to move his arms. The bed he lay on was cold, and the lights above bright. He turned his head, looking side to side frantically with wide eyes.
"Hello, Number 75," said Müssala, bending close to him. Her necklace scraped across his face and he tried to press himself further into the bed. "Don't like my jewellery?" She held it up. "Baby fingers and Metal Head canines woven together, a potent power amplifier. But you have so many other things to worry about now." She smiled. Number 75 goggled at her metal-laced teeth. "Blue-eyed boy, can you speak?"
"Ahh, ahh," Number 75 looked from the black woman to the grinning man, who rubbed blood between his gloved palms. His breathing quickened. He kicked his legs, trying to free them from the restraints. He whimpered.
"I think he likes us!" Slitter grabbed a swab. "Open wide." He forced Number 75's mouth open, smearing blood all over his face. "Just need a quick- stop gagging!"
Number 75 choked and coughed, arching his back. Müssala put a hand on his chest and pushed him down. "Now that he's awake I can really feel it. He has a frightening axis. Do you feel it?"
Slitter yanked his fingers back. "The bastard bit me!" He sneered and jabbed a thicker needle into Number 75's throat.
"Hnnnnn..." the boy's breathing steadied and his eyes glazed over. Drool seeped from the corner of his mouth. Slitter raised one arm to smash him across the face, but Müssala grabbed his wrist.
"What did I say about this one?" she asked darkly, tightening her grip.
Slitter grit his teeth. "Be careful."
"That's right," Müssala watched his eyes for a moment before releasing him. "No superfluous damage."
Slitter hissed and shook his hand. "I'll process this right away," he said, snatching the kit. "Back in a second, my Sadistic Lady."
Müssala watched him leave, still feeling the warmth of his arm in her flexed fingers. What a wretched Taetra you've become, seduced by a stupid boy. But I can feel his emotions, his disturbing desires... They crawl into my skin. Pure skáhgadah. I want to touch that stupid boy's face. I want to rip my hands through his black hair. I want to hear his voice in the dark... It would be so easy to just take him. Ensnare him. Drag him back with me and show him what happens when you give in... She chuckled uneasily. Or if he won't give in, force... But that's what Erol wanted from me. She huffed. Vackting Slitter.
"Oh great. That face again." He stood with his arms crossed. "Pray tell, Venomous One, what are you thinking?"
Müssala smirked. "You do not want to know."
"There's nothing a sinister mind can think that I don't want to know," he said.
"Do the physical examination."
"Aww, c'mon. That wasn't it. I know it wasn't."
"Begin with the upper extremities." Müssala motioned to Number 75 with the ECF.
"Are you afraid to tell me, Taetra?" He sidled up to her. "What's in that metal lined skull? You got secrets?" He grinned and grinned.
She was terribly aware of his closeness. The hair on her scalp prickled. He smelled like blood and disinfectant. "Of course I do. Move."
Slitter studied her for a minute. "Okay," he said finally, backing up to the bed. He cut Number 75's clothing off and threw it into the incinerator. "Freakin' peasant," he spat, eyeing the homespun sandals suspiciously. "If I see one louse, I'm spraying him with hydrochloric acid."
"You'll do no such thing," said Müssala. "Look at those eco lines!"
"Hmm..." Slitter cast a disapproving eye along Number 75's torso. "Looks like he's been playing with colors for a while. Is that a white eco burn?!"
Müssala nodded, dumbfounded. "He must be a channeler," she said. She ran one finger along the thick scar. "This is the Axis. It goes from mid-chest to navel. Within it run quite a few distinct eco lines. Red, blue, yellow, green; he's had experience with all. I can feel," she shut her eyes and concentrated. "Yes. By Sesslurak Alone! He will be the Dark Warrior."
Slitter continued the examination, shouting out random insults and medical terms alike. Müssala recorded the more pertinent details, Erol's words gnawing at the back of her mind.
I know your language... pleasure from pain... you better hope that one's different...
"-ssala? Hey! You didn't laugh at my last witty comment."
"Oh?"
"I said, 'with the way I'm workin' it down here you'd think he couldn't inhibit his cyclic GMP degradation. His guanylyl cyclase must be pretty damn lonely.'"
"Yes. Very mature."
"I'd die if Little Slitter didn't get his nitric oxide signals."
"Silence!" Müssala squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance. "Get out of here, Slitter."
"Aww, we're not gonna toast him?"
"No. Not after you stuck him with the sedative."
Slitter laughed and peeled the black gloves off. "Right, whatever gets me out of here early. Til tomorrow, Lady Dementia."
Müssala watched him saunter out, alternating between the desire to stick a scalpel into his spine and to chain him to a bed. "Moron," she said at last.
GN: ?
G: M
R: Haven
Mother: EP?
Father: mutt
PE: Complete
E-F: most probably high
EE: mp high
T: Pending
Tx: Pending
RDs: Pending
Müssala updated the file into the Dark Warrior Program. She pulled the curtains around Number 75's bed. "I'll see you tomorrow evening," she said wryly.
On the way out of the lab, she punched a hole in the wall and felt somewhat better.
Krin: Okay, that's done now. Please review!Thrinaxia: You just know they're going to ask... I might as well explain it to them. Attention all tiny-minded mammals who wish to know such things, and have wretched access to science: Viagra works by blocking the degradation of cyclic GMP, prolonging the nitric oxide signal. Figure out the rest yourselves.
Krin: O.O I don't know why I write you.
Thrinaxia: Because I appeal to your superiority complex.
Krin: Oh. Okay.