XIX

When Reed Weyland finally did arrive—by my rough estimate an hour later- I found myself presented with a man that looked absolutely nothing like I had pictured him as. He was of tall build, almost willowy in stature; I could see, after a moment of hard scrutiny, the family resemblance in the close set dark eyes and the hard line of the jaw. His hair, jet black in color, was worn in longish layers about his face, and the color was matched by the casual, tailored black suit he wore. Upon seeing me awake and sitting up, his unreadable expression lightened. "Ale--" he began, then caught himself. "Ms. Woods," he said warmly, "I'm glad to see you awake."

His demeanour confused me, though I had no idea why. Although I dearly wanted to question him, demand answers from him, I merely nodded and said. "Mr. Weyland—I don't know if the doctor told you, but I don't remember you …"

He nodded. "I know. That's...well. Where to start?" He seemed at a bit of a loss. "You've been through a lot, and I don't want to rush you. May I?" He indicated that he wanted to sit beside me on the bed.

I nodded, my heart suddenly thudding at the prospect that the things I couldn't remember, the very events that had landed me in the hospital, were about to be revealed. He gently lowered himself and took a moment before continuing.

"I suppose I should begin with what you do remember." He looked at his hands, not at me, as he talked. "How much do you know? Do you have any recollection of, say, the time before arriving here? Or of what happened after you led my father's party down the iceberg? Anything?"

"I remember getting the call from Stafford. And the Piper Maru—I remember arriving on board. I remember meeting your father and some others … but their names are gone. I can't recall the reason for the expedition, just that I would be leading a team to Bouvetoya … for scientific research?" I halted here, my brow furrowing as I struggled to regain some small bit of information that would tie all I had just said together. After a moment I sighed, and it wasn't a happy sound. I looked up at him and shrugged tiredly. "I don't know any more than that."

"Hmm." He, too, looked disappointed, though personally, as if he'd hoped I'd say I remembered more. "Let me fill you in a bit then. At least you know somewhat why you're here; maybe that will make the news easier to swallow." He met my eyes at last, and I was struck by their intensity. There was some emotion lurking behind them, something that could be concern, worry, determination--fear? "It was originally for scientific research," he went on grimly, "But there was much, much more." His gaze softened, and he hesitantly put a hand on my arm. "Lex, stop me if it becomes too much. I will not risk losing you again."

My first instinct had been to recoil from his touch; this reaction puzzled me as much as his last sentence did. Trying to ignore my discomfiture, I said, "Please keep going."

So I heard it all, from the descent to the discoveries to the deaths--he admitted he only had the reports to go by from the first foray, as he himself did not arrive til later--when his father died. Then there was the litany of everything that had happened afterward, how we went back down to recover his father's body, how we had been attacked by the black alien creatures, caught in the crossfire between those and their hunters. His voice broke twice: once when he talked about his father, and once when he talked about finding me after the explosion.

At the end, he fixed that gaze upon me once more, only this time, he stared angrily at a spot on my face. "We worked out what they wanted," he said, voice tight. His hand somehow had become entwined with mine, and now he gripped it as though I needed his strength. "Those monsters. They--god. I can't believe I got you out of there at all. They marked you, Lex." All traces of 'Ms. Woods' had disappeared, though I hadn't even noticed at the chill that went through me. "They marked you like an animal." His other hand came up, the thumb tracing lightly over my cheek. I was unprepared for the sudden tenderness, both in his gesture and that of my skin. He dragged his eyes back from whatever marked my face to look me in the eye at last. "They marked you as prey."

I couldn't hold his gaze for long; his words, as unfeasible, as unbelievable as they seemed, had struck a chord within me. And for one brief, fleeting moment something came to me, an image hazy and insubstantial but one that filled me with a myriad of emotions too tangled to sort through—

-standing before me was one of the hunters. As I completed my turn he raised the arm holding his sophisticated spear with deliberate, menacing slowness. The spear extended suddenly, noisily, and I couldn't help the frightened sound that left me. The hunter snarled at me; it was unmistakably threatening, and as he began to advance I threw both my arms out in a gesture of supplication—

"I can't …" I said, placing one hand on my forehead as though to catch hold of the memory even as it drifted from my grasp. I shook my head in utter disbelief; Reed's story sounded like something from a science fiction novel, but I had just remembered a creature that couldn't be real, could it? Or was he telling the truth, and his words were jostling my fragmented memory? I lifted my eyes to him again, unable to hide the fear and uncertainty that flowed through them. I said, "Tell me about them. Everything."

So he did. He described them to me, told me what they did, why they seemed to be here, what he knew of what had happened below the ice. There was hatred in his voice, in his rigid bearing, the coldness with which he recounted the brutal slaying of the entire drill team. They took trophies, they hunted humans and the black aliens alike. They used weapons both primitive and highly advanced, lasers and wicked claws, nets laced with acid. Each one wore a mask that identified it from the others, sometimes decorated with the blood of their kills.

"There's one more thing," he said, hesitantly, searching my face for some response, "And I will show you, later. I want you to know now, so there are no secrets between us, Lex." For the first time since the beginning of this interview, he actually looked uncomfortable. "We--we have one of them. It's alive, wounded, but we've managed to keep it under heavy sedation. Once you're up and about for real, I want to have you come see it in case it jogs any more of your memory." He had both of my hands now, his fingers wound in with mine.

Something deep inside me lurched when I heard that one of those creatures was here within this complex; whether it was fear or dismay I couldn't tell. I was quite suddenly overwhelmed by everything—the story, the flashback, Reed's hands on mine. I felt a headache burgeoning to life and closed my eyes against it, and when I opened them a second later I gently disentangled my fingers from his. "It's a lot to absorb," I said heavily by way of explanation.

He seemed genuinely hurt when I pulled away, though he covered it well. "I know," he replied, quietly. "I told you, I will not rush you on this. We seem to have a reprieve for now, which is certainly needed around here. Everyone is frightened and upset, and we've--" he paused and corrected himself, "I've--been worried about you in particular." He stood and moved toward the door. "Listen, Lex--when you're feeling better, or up for it, come talk to me again? I--" Once more he hesitated, so at odds with what I expected from him. "I need to talk to you about other things. They're not important right now, not until you get back on your feet. Just call me when you're ready?"

He had one hand on the doorknob when it occurred to me to ask him something else. "Anamaria Benson," I said, and he became still. "She was here today. She said I'm not safe and that she's not allowed to see me. Why?"

His eyes flashed to my face; I could feel him staring at the mark there. "Because I don't want anyone else to get hurt. I don't want to isolate you, but I will if it means keeping the risk of injury or death away from my team. I will talk with her. You both seemed to be on friendly terms before all this; she is likely as worried as I have been that you weren't going to make it. All the same, she has a little girl here with her. She has Cora to think about." Reed made as if to go, then stopped and picked up something from a side counter. "Here--this is why you're alone here. I want you to know what they did to you, why I can't allow anyone to see you just yet."

It was a small medical mirror. Reed placed it in my hand and curled my fingers around it. "Lex," he nearly breathed, tense, "I told you they marked you. I think they will try to come back for you. I will do all in my power--everything--to stop them if they do, but until then..." He trailed off and moved back. "I will check on you later, I promise. Think about all this."

As the door closed behind him I lifted the mirror, and as my own reflection stared back at me I saw the mark etched into my cheek immediately. It almost resembled a thunderbolt; two curved lines above and below each other that never met. I raised one finger to touch it, tracing the lines—

-with the wall suddenly at my back I found myself staring up at the acid tipped finger held ominously in his large, clawed hand—

I dropped the mirror as though burned, breathing fast as the vision faded. I knew now with cold, absolute certainty that Reed had spoken at least partial truth. The proof was in the flashes of memory that had assaulted me so recently and in the design that marred my flesh. I lifted my hand again to touch the lines that rose a minimal distance from the rest of my flesh, knowing instinctively that they had been burned into existence. Where they what Reed had said they were? Did they indeed mark me as prey to a race of hunters?

I didn't pick up the mirror again. Instead I laid back against the pillows and closed my eyes, trying not to listen to the thunder of my racing heart.

XIX

Author's Note: Chocobo Goddess has returned to play the role of Reed, intergalactic cretin extraordinaire. She'll be writing him throughout the entirety of this story. On a side note, thank you everyone for your support thus far; I'm sorry I made you wait so long.