"Are we there yet?" Ray asked from his seat. They were eating in the "Cafe Car" of the train.
"No Ray." answered his father. "What did I tell you?"
Ray rolled his eyes, "When the little hand is on the three and the big hand on the nine." he dutifully repeated.
"That's right buddy."
"He's precious. Isn't he Richard?" said the woman seated right next to them.
Max had noticed the older couple when they entered the wagon. The woman reminded Max of Katherine, Logan's great aunt on his father's side. Entitled, snotty, patronizing and always going on and on about the good old days. She had dismissed the woman after a few seconds but now that she was talking to Ray, Max paid attention to her again.
"How old are you young man?" she continued.
"How old are you old woman?" Ray replied.
The woman sputtered and left in a huff. The man Richard winked at Ray and followed her out of the car.
"Whad did I do?" her little man said innocently. The mirth in his eyes betrayed his amusement.
"Enough fun for you young man." He kissed Max, leaving her to clean their table and leading his son to their bedroom/cabin, two cars down the locomotive.
"I hate the train." Max muttered in french as she joined them in the bedroom car. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu as choisi le train. J'ai l'impression d'être une cible facile." (I don't understand why you choose the train. I feel like a sitting duck) she complained. "If you were willing to spend so much money for the tickets, why not a car. I mean you'd pay the same amount in gas!" she whispered loudly.
"Je te l'ai dit, je voulais voyager dans le comfort. Et tu dois admettre que c'est le dernier endroit où ils viendraient nous chercher." (I told you, I wanted to travel in comfort. And you have to admit this is the last place they would search us.) he replied. They had had the same argument several times.
"Ils ne sont pas en train de nous chercher!" (They are not searching for us.) She was sulking.
"Well it never hurts to take some precautions does it?" he answered calmly.
She didn't argue that one. She watched him looking at Ray. She was like that sometimes too, trying to commit the little boy's features in her memories. She knew it was for Ray that he choose the train, it was faster than if they had travel by car, and thanks to the ammenities, he got to tuck Ray in bed, for the two nights they were spending on board the train.
He had taken the decision that he was going to send Ray away when the fight would started. He had no idea where or with who. It was necessary that Max fight, she wasn't the type to stay on the sideline and for them to have slim chance of winning, she actually had to fight. Her fighting, meant that he would too. As 494 would put it, he had her back. But most of the transgenics were going to fight and the few that he trusted – if it could actually be called trust – were all going to fight. That left him with no contingency plan and wondering what was he going to do about his son when the war broke out? Leave him to his own father?
What they were planning to do would cripple the familiar but that would only be on this side of the Atlantic but only if their plan work. And, if they could prevent a retaliation from the other convenants in Europe, Asia and Africa, block their entry on American soil, they had a chance to live in relative peace. He didn't like their odds, he felt like there was too many things riding on chance and the transgenics and wether or not, Max could "pull the trigger" at the right moment.
She hadn't realized yet what he was going to do, because she didn't understand yet what she could do. She didn't understand what she was, who she was.
It was Cameron who welcomed them at the train station. From his pursed lips, Max gathered that he wasn't happy. Although, she thought that he would have positively been livid if it was Andrea. During the last leg of their travel, there was an uneasiness about Ames. And though they were comfortable enough to see each other naked, their lack of formality also made her unsure of where she stood with him and with Ray. He wasn't the kind of guy who stopped and talked about his feelings, and she had a lifetime of keeping to herself to overcome. Moreover she was not going to ask what was wrong. She was, in the end, very new at the relationship game and they both needed to learn more about each other.
The fact that he wasn't happy that Cameron came to get them didn't exactly surprise her. Old habits died hard, and he was taught to hate everything about his father. And the rebels were all about his father.
She, on the other end, kinda liked Cameron. She wouldn't jump in his arms in joy, but his dark blond hair, and laid back attitude reminded her of Alec, so she had warmed up to him, almost immediately.
Max liked the compound well enough strange as that was because in its structures, it was like Manticore. She didn't know what to expect, just not a farm with a secret underground facility spreading for miles. The entirety of the compound was underground, so it wasn't the weather that reminded her of the Wyoming facilities. It was the grey walls, the messhall, the training equipments. But here, she heard children running in the hallways, people talked, joked, in the messhall, if they decided to eat, in the messhall. There was no schedule, at least not by the Manticore definition. It was not Manticore, but it was the walls were not painted with the word DUTY; DISCIPLINE; ORDER. Here there was art. There was even a piece that she had lifted from the Belgium National Museum. There was even a spa for Christsake! This was a glimpse of how her mutant family could be. Here no one reprimanded the children for laughing, for making images with their hands, for not waking up at 0600, or for not doing good enough. She felt happines, joy, and life in these walls. Maybe it was because this place wasn't haunted by dead children, torture and other kinds of abuse. Here the rebels had thrived. Their insouciance made her almost forget why she was here in the first place.
There were seven levels. The top two were mainly attributed the security of the military base: monitors and guards. Not that anyone had bothered to give her the grand tour, she had helped herself to the blueprint and checking every level. Cameron had just dropped them in one of the unit/house in level 5 when they arrived and that was it. They were given their pass and they had been told that they could access any level, so she explored the grounds each moment she got and since she avoided – for the time being – the training level, she had a lot of free time. In her old life, she always had something or other to do, wether it was for Logan, for herself, for Jampony or helping Sketchy, and in the last year, for TC. Here, in the compound, all she was asked to do was take care of herself and train. Her aimlessness was new to her, and as far as she could remember, she never just sit still. She could stay perched on the roof of building for hours on end, but her stillness had an aim: obtain information, cash or anything that was useful for her. This was sort of unsettling. She knew that she was supposed to do something, she just didn't know what. Also, she didn't like the way some of the rebels looked at her: As if she was some kind of savior. She was afraid that she was going to fail them all. Failing the rebels wouldn't be, as Andrea put it, so daunting if it didn't mean failing her Manticore family, failing Ray, failing Ames, failing the unborn child in her womb. She put her hand on her stomach reflexively.
She should be at level three, in room 213, training. But she failed at all the tests Doctor Hanley had given her. She was reluctant and she didn't really understand why. Maybe she was more messed up than she thought. Afterall, she had spent more time in the Psy Ops unit during her last stay in dear Old Manticore than any other X to date. Or did Alec's stint superseded hers. She didn't know.
She was idle, and she didn't like to be idle. It made her nervous and edgy and she didn't like being this nervous and edgy: it gave her too much time to think. Think about the fact that she was a big coward. Nevertheless, she couldn't mutter the force of will to turn around, take the elevator or the stairs and meet doctor Hanley as she had promised.
She turned the corner, and thanks to her agility avoided a colision with Cameron. Despite his patronizing attitude – fortunately for him he wasn't like that with her, but that might have more to do with the fact that he was still curious about her "race" as he called the transgenics – she reminded him of Alec and Zach put together. He raised his eyes indicating that he knew she was not supposed to be wandering alone on the level seven, but he wasn't going to say anything.
"Wanna go punch something?" he simply asked. That right there, was the reason she liked Cameron.
The rebel was good sparing partner for her. He didn't pull his punch and he didn't act like he couldn't learn anything from her. He was observing her during their together and she returned the favor. Watching Cameron and Ames was a good insight in Familiar society. In the Manticore hierarchy, he would be an alpha, but here, he was like any other rebel. Not that there wasn't a hierachy in the rebel society, but it was not as marked as within the transgenic. When she had remarked upon it, two days ago, Cameron had looked at her with seriousness and said: "I wouldn't have ever described it the same way as you did but, I understand what you mean. Here, I don't need to be an alpha, as you say. I guess, we have learn in the last decades to hate our former selves, to hate our familiar brothers. And hierarchy is everything for a familiar." As they entered the training grounds, Max looked at her left toward the rooms 213.
"What is it that you're afraid Maxine?"
"Don't call me that! Nobody calls me that." her answer lacked any bite so that Cameron knew she wasn't really annoyed about the name. But she was annoyed at him. Tough break, he thought. She was losing valuable time. If he was in her shoes, he would be with the Doc 24 hours a day. But he wasn't her, and he had a good grasps of what made her tick. She gave her back to the hallway and climbed the boxing ring.
"Come on Cameron. This time I might let you win." she mocked.
"It's your funeral." he answered good naturedly.
There was nothing really dangerous in their sparing matches: both of them were wearing gloves, both of them were holding their punch. This was just to blow of some steam, and for Cameron to try and get Max to see the Doc.
As he got her in a choke hold, she braced herself and pushed herself back, landing on his back and having him in a choke hold, and her legs around him. Cameron reacted by throwning her away, just as Ames was wallking to the door. Max landed easily on her feet, but Ames already had his hand on Cameron's throat.
"Stop." she yelled. "Ames stop! I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine."
Ames didn't immediately release the rebel and more and more people started to gather around them.
"She is pregnant you moron." he spat at Cameron.
The rebel was going to answer but Max shook her head.
"I'm fine White." she knew he liked that she called him that. Especially among this community who insisted on calling him Sandeman. "I'm fine."
Finally, with a huff, Ames released Cameron and walked out of the door.
"He doesn't hate you." she whispered to the rebel.
Cameron turned and looked at her. "Really? Doesn't feel like it."
Max smiled and added, "Sarcasm doesn't become you Cam." Shrugging, she added, "so you're not his favorite person in the world, it's not personal. He would..." she hesitated choosing her words carefully. "act the same way to any man that he feels replaced him in his father's eye."
"First of all, he hates his father. Second of all, I didn't replace him."
Max looked pensively in the direction Ames had disappeared.
"One thing I've learned, we are all human even though we try very much to deny it. Afterall, it was because of his sons that Sandeman created me. So as any other human being, we all have our daddy issues."
"You, my dear, need to spend more time training and less time idling."
"Idling? Is that even a word?" she mocked.
"What are you afraid of Max?" he repeated his previous question.
Failing she said to herself. She blushed in shame.
"I'm gonna go talk to him." she muttered.
"You make me lose control Max." As usual with them, he had felt her presence before he could see her. "You make me lose control and I don't like it."
"Ditto." she replied.
"I'm afraid for you and I don't like it."
She felt uncomfortable and felt that he was too. It was only fair that what she felt, he felt too. But this was the first serious conversation that they were having: about them and their feelings.
"Doctor Hanley said that you didn't come by his office today." he continued after a moment.
"I don't want to talk about that." she was turning to go.
"Oh we have too!" in less than a second in was right in front of her. "I gave up everything for you when I brought you here. For me there is no turning back. For Ray either." He was looking straight into her eyes.
"So I have to repay you? I didn't ask you to do that!" she shouted back immediately regretting the words. She understood exactly what he had given up when he said that they were going to the Rebels.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." his lips were pinched, his forehead in his 'Special Agent White' frown.
He looked at the set of her stubborn chin. She knew she was wrong, but she was not going to apologize. He almost smiled. In someways, they were so alike, and in other so different. He understood commitment and duty, and she was more adept had shirking her duties that fullfiling them.
"You have to see the Doc. He knows how to help you."
"Why can't you do it?" she whispered. In that moment, he saw how young she was. Was he making a mistake? No.
"I can't." he took her wrist in his hands, rubbing the new tatoos. "He is one of three people who can help you with these. Unless you want to be taught by Sandeman."
She frowned.
"So will you see him?"
She nodded. "Might as well go now. If I lose my nerve, I might not go at all." she half-joked. It was time for her to face the music as they say.
Whatever Hanley told her, she was at least, in a sense home, with Ames.
