This chapter's coming to you early because I'm super excited about it. You'll see why when you read it. Anyway, please enjoy.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. I turn on my heel and begin pacing the other way down the hall, starting over. One, two, three… There's a door on my left. Mom's sitting somewhere on the other side, waiting for whatever we intend to do with her. I haven't seen her in over a year, and now there are just a few inches of metal separating us. It's unnerving.
I freeze in place, staring at the door. I take a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I need to appear calm. I need her to see that I'm strong, that I'm not afraid of her, and that I know what I'm doing. And yet, for some reason, I can't seem to get myself to calm down. My breathing hasn't slowed since my fight with Boron, despite my best efforts. I can't seem to control it, or the splitting headache I've developed.
"Maybe you should let Nick handle this," Rho suggests, characteristic motherly concern in her voice.
"No," I say. "I can deal with her."
"Your pulse is racing, your blood pressure is dangerously high, and you've nearly tripped three times just pacing here in the hall," she argues. "You're in no condition to handle this negotiation. You need to go see Rhodi."
I don't feel like arguing this. "Log off," I order.
"No, I won't log off," Rho insists. "You can't just make me go away every time I'm right. You need help, Silver."
"Please?" I request tiredly. "I'm going to talk to her, and I… I need to do it alone."
Rho shifts her feet uncomfortably, looking like she doesn't want to listen. "Fine," she says eventually. "But you'd better wake me up the moment you finish. You and I need to have a talk." She sounds like a stern parent, and I can't help but smile at the fact.
"Whatever you say," I agree. There's a slight buzz in the back of my head, the only indicator that she still isn't happy with this course of action, before I feel her presence draw away from my mind. I sigh and pull her chip from the base of my skull. It's not that I don't trust her, but I really need to know that she isn't listening. Whatever happens, it needs to be between me and mom.
I face the door again, willing my face to show no emotion, except maybe a bit of anger. I don't think there's anything wrong with her knowing how much she's pissed us off. Once I think I'm ready, I type the door's code into the panel at its side. It slides open, and I step into the room.
Mom looks exactly like I remember. Her hair is in the same harsh grey bun she's had since I was a child, her eyes are just as sharp and critical as ever, her mouth is set in the same half frown of disappointment, and her hands are folded on the table in front of her like I've seen a thousand times before. Nothing's changed at all. It's mildly disappointing. I'd half expected her to look older, both from the stress of living on the run and, hopefully, from guilt for what she's done. I realize now that it was a fantasy. She'd never feel guilt or remorse for any of this, and she'd certainly never lose sleep over it.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and it almost looks like she's suppressing a smile. "I believe the accurate term for you, at this time, would be 'prodigal'," she comments as I sit across from her. Her eyes are fixed on me. I see past the fake smile she wears, recognizing her expression. She's analyzing something, though I can't guess what. It would appear she sees something entirely fascinating in my face.
My glare deepens at the words. "Don't try to be cute," I snap.
This time Dr. Han really does smile. "You're still angry about Silicon, aren't you?" she asks. "It's a shame, really. He actually had the potential to be a decent soldier, unlike many of you."
"Don't you dare talk about him," I say. "You don't have that right."
Dr. Han's face turns business like. "Then what shall we discuss?" she asks. "I'm sure you brought me here for a reason."
I hand her a holo-pad with a document already opened.
"What is this?" she asks, eyes already scanning the words.
"Your confession," I answer. "Every illegal thing you've ever done with this project, as well as everything you've ever forced us to do. You're going to sign it."
"And why would I do that?" A hint of amusement sneaks into her voice as she asks.
"Whether you do or not, nothing changes for you," I answer. "No matter what, we are going to turn you in. You will face justice for your crimes. We have enough evidence without your confession to get you put away for the rest of your life, if not outright executed. So, whether you sign or not, it's no different to you." I lean forward, locking my eyes to hers. "However, if you sign this, it will prove that the rest of us are innocent. We'll all be allowed to go free. I don't believe you're so evil as to force us all to die with you when there's no hope for you to escape."
Dr. Han sits back in her chair, putting some distance between us, and smiles again. "That's where you're wrong," she says in her 'I know more than you' voice. "I do have a chance to escape." She leans forward again, eyes darting between my own. "Your pupils are dilated," she observes. "And you're sweating."
This time it's my turn to lean back. I reach up and wipe some of the sweat from my forehead, wondering how it can be there when I feel so cold. I look down at my hands and see that they're shaking. Not now, I beg silently. I stand, clasping my hands behind my back to hide the tremors as I ignore the spinning in my head. I turn a glare to Dr. Han, who looks far too smug for my taste.
"Genetic degradation is a terrible way to die," she says, the sympathy in her voice so fake it makes me feel sick. "First there's the general exhaustion and dizzy spells, usually dragging out for months on end. Then there's the chance you'll lose muscle control. Of course all of this is nothing compared to the rather unpredictable way your organs will shut down. Most likely it will be your kidneys first, though it's also very possible you could lose your lungs or heart. All the while you're in excruciating agony, of course."
I want to tell her to be quiet, but I can't seem to make myself speak. It feels like there's something in my throat, stopping every breath from reaching my lungs. I place a hand on the table, hoping I look menacing and not like I'm about to fall over.
"Most often this would be when a subject dies, but I'm sure Yttrium and Rhodium would find some way to keep you alive. This could prolong the inevitable for a few months, but in the end you would still die a long, painful death." Dr. Han looks up into my eyes, though I have a hard time focusing on hers. The pain in my head's gotten worse, and I'm sure I'll lose my balance soon if the room keeps spinning like it is. "Of course, I could stop it," she continues. "I know how to stabilize your genetic structure, just like when you were a child, only this time it would be permanent. You don't have to die."
"And I suppose you'd do this out of the goodness of your heart?" I say sarcastically, the words slurring together slightly. Rho was right. I'm in no condition to be here. I can see that now.
Dr. Han laughs, a short, quick note lacking any humor. "You know me too well for that," she answers. "No, I'm proposing a deal; my life for yours. You let me go, and I'll cure you before I leave." She leans back and folds her hands in her lap. "We both win."
My eyes narrow as I try my best to focus on her face. "No deal," I hiss.
"Don't be stubborn," she snaps, her tone scolding like when I was a child. "I know you're afraid to die. But it doesn't have to be like this. Neither of us needs to lose our lives."
"If I let you go, it's a death sentence for my family," I say. "I won't allow that. I'll gladly accept my death to keep them safe." I can't stay here any longer. My symptoms have never felt this bad before. I need to get out of here; need to get to Rhodium.
Dr. Han laughs humorously as I turn to leave. "We really are very much alike," she says as I stumble to the door. "You're just as stubborn as me."
I stop at the door, pressing a hand against it to help keep my balance. There's one last thing I need to say to her before I leave. "Just tell me one thing," I request. "Did you ever truly care about us? You told us to call you mom. You told us you were our mother. Did you ever love us at all?"
There's a pause and I wonder what she must be thinking, whether she's weighing the possibility that her answer could influence her future. Then, she finally speaks. "How could I ever love failed experiments?" she asks with true confusion in her voice. I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself it doesn't hurt as I finally step out of the room.
I close the door behind me, cutting off whatever she might have said next. I take quick, shallow breaths, growing more lightheaded by the second. I need to get to Rhodi. He's prepared for this. It's the only clear thought in my head as I stumble down the hall toward the infirmary, one hand dragging along the wall to hold me up. I only make it a few feet before sliding to the floor, vision blurring. I smell blood, and a swipe of fingers under my nose proves it's mine. I barely make out the shape of someone down the hall before my vision goes completely dark.
Wash walks through one of the many halls in the new base, carefully counting the different doorways and passages he passes. "Fourth right, then the third door on your left," he mutters, trying to remember Nickel's directions. Part of him wants to turn back around. He's still not sure where he stands with Silver. She might not even want him there. Still, he knows she's going to talk to Dr. Han. He assumes that'll be a difficult thing. She might want someone there.
Wash sighs. "You are absolutely hopeless," he whispers to himself. He stops then, nearly turning around and rejoining the rest of his team in the cafeteria. When he left they'd been messing with Grif after the Hawaiian had freaked out upon hearing of the bat creature he and Silver had battled. It'd been fun sitting around and laughing with a group like that. Wash wouldn't mind being there. Of course, he also wouldn't mind helping Silver, if she'd let him.
He knows he should leave her alone. She doesn't care about him, at least not the way he wished she would. That doesn't stop him from caring about her, though, or stop him from wanting to help.
"It'll be fine," he tells himself. "Worst case scenario is that you end up standing in the corner looking intimidating while Silver interrogates her crazy mother. What could possibly go wrong?" He forces himself to keep moving forward until he reaches the turn he'd been looking for.
Wash sees Silver standing near the end of the hall. He raises a hand to wave but stops when something seems off. He notices the way she seems to be pressing against the wall as she walks, as though she can't support herself without it. He rushes forward when she falls to her knees.
"Silver!" he says worriedly. She's already unconscious by the time he reaches her, and there's blood on her upper lip. He presses two fingers to her neck gently, his mind instinctively falling back on past training to compensate for his panic. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds a pulse, though it's so faint he barely feels it and fast enough he'd think she just ran a mile. Her skin's also abnormally cold to the touch.
"This is not good," Wash whispers to himself. He doesn't recognize the symptoms, but he can recognize in combination that they're bad. He picks her up carefully, letting her head roll onto his chest while her legs fold over his arm. "I've got to get you to Doc," he says, talking himself through the plan to keep focused.
He wants to run. He wants to get her to Doc or Rhodi or someone who can tell him what's wrong as soon as possible. Still, he doesn't want to risk hurting her further. Wash settles for a brisk jog as he carries Silver through the halls.
He finally reaches a more heavily populated section of the base. The first person he runs into is Donut.
"Hey, Wash!" Donut greets cheerfully, before he notices the unconscious woman. "Is she okay?" he asks, his usual jovial attitude quickly morphing into concern.
"I don't know," Wash answers. "I found her like this. I'm taking her to the infirmary. Run ahead and tell Doc and Rhodi." Donut nods wordlessly before sprinting away down the halls, Wash trailing behind.
When he finally reaches the infirmary Rhodi's already ready for him, ordering Wash to place Silver on one of the beds without so much as a greeting. The teenager begins hooking her up to various machines and IVs of fluids Wash has never seen before.
"What's wrong with her?" he asks, hovering nervously to one side of the hospital bed.
"Go get Nick," Rhodi orders mechanically, studying the readings on one of the machines.
"Rhodi, tell me if she'll be okay," Wash insists.
"I can't," Rhodium snaps. "I cannot tell you anything, Agent Washington. Not even if I want to. Now go get Nick." He turns away from the stunned former agent once he's finished, frantically scanning the machinery. "There isn't enough fucking time," he hisses under his breath. "This is too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen this way."
Wash watches the kid mutter to himself for a little while longer and then walks to the door. He's right, of course. Whatever's going on, Nick should know. He'll probably want to be here. Wash stops in the doorway, glancing back at the pale figure on the bed. "Just don't die," he whispers feebly before finally leaving.