A/n: Once again, great reviews. Welcome new reviewers, RT4ever and shywr1ter, and welcome back, DABF, havn't seen you in a while. You guys are really sustaining me to keep writing this fic despite the massive amount of essays both my evil geography teachers are dropping on me.

Thanks, you're keeping me sane.

(Did you notice I rewrote the summary? Do you like the new version?)

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Chapter 8: Worth A Thousand Words.

White was meeting with the conclave's top computer expert outside the main lab. He was a short, middle aged, bearded geek called Hammet, with strange blue- black eyes and so many nervous tics they had to queue.

"Well? Is he any good?" White asked abruptly as he bustled up.

"Any good? He's the best I've ever seen. None of our people are a patch on this guy. He broke the first firewall in less than thirty minutes without tripping any alarms. Our lab's record for that is forty-six minutes and twelve seconds."

"So he could be telling the truth about hacking military special ops?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him. The man's a genius. The things he's doing with his programming are… incredible. No wonder the freaks were so keen to have his help."

"I see." White frowned. He'd been looking forward to proving Cale's story wrong and having an excuse to torture him. The guy annoyed the hell out of him, and he was certainly lying about his involvement with the transgenics. He decided to talk to him face to face, or rather, face to back as the prisoner was entirely focussed on his computer screen.

"How's the hacking going, Cale?"

"It's not, at the moment, Ames. I'm corrupting and rewriting a decryption program to get through the firewalls. Time consuming, but well worth the effort."

"Our techs are very impressed with your skills. Where did you learn all this?"

"I picked it up here and there. I was one of those anarchic teenage hackers, I'm afraid; first hacked into my dad's bank account at twelve years old."

"I doubt he was pleased about that. What did you do?"

"Transferred a hundred dollars to Amnesty International. I even figured out a way to cover my tracks so he wouldn't notice what I'd done."

"Why? What was the point?"

"Just to see if I could. And to piss him off, naturally. I'm sure you can understand that." White's jaw tightened as it always did at the mention of his father.

"You know about all that."

"Oh, yeah. Being Terminal City's chief tech lets you in on all kinds of things. I even got to take a look at all those runes that showed up on Max's skin. Very nice view, I can tell you."

"Did you manage to translate them?"

"Some. I was working on the rest when you people dropped a building on me. Something like 'when the shroud of death covers the face of the earth, the one whose power is hidden will deliver the helpless'. Whatever that means. Why your dad couldn't make his tattoos from within make sense I don't know. I mean what's the point in sending a vital message in an archaic alphabet no one's ever completely translated if it's so vague you can't understand it?"

"Beats me. He never could speak in plain English. So 452 doesn't know what the runes mean. Hmm. That could be to our advantage. How much longer will it take you to get into the Manticore files?"

"A couple of days, maybe, once I've got this program finished."

"Good. Get on with it. I'll stop by again when you're done."

Once he was outside, White turned to Hammet. "Watch him like a hawk. If he's this good with computers, he could cause chaos in our systems."

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Zack knocked on the door of Max's quarters before he entered. She wasn't there, so he took a look around while he waited. The place was Spartan even by her standards. There was a sleeping bag with a tiny pillow on the floor and a cardboard box to serve as a bedside table. The only other piece of furniture was an easel with a large painting on it, directly opposite the pillow.

Usually Zack didn't care for art unless he was fencing it; he considered himself too practical for such things. However, even he could appreciate the power of this picture. The portrait of Max and Logan just looking at each other showed exactly how much in love they were. If she had ever looked at him like that… but Zack knew that could never happen. The painting told him what no words could ever have communicated. Max loved Logan, and she always would. No future relationship – if they even had one – could ever mean as much to Max as Logan had.

And if there was one thing Zack could never deal with, it was being second best.

"What are you doing?" Alec had followed Zack in unnoticed.

"I was looking for Max. Do you know where she might be?"

"Depends on what you want to say to her."

"I… wanted to apologise. I guess I didn't understand how important Logan was, and not just to her."

"Few did. That was the thing with Logan, there was always something he wasn't telling you."

"Were you close to him?"

"I… was the annoying younger brother who had to be bailed out of trouble every five minutes. And he always came through on that. Even at the end."

"Max said you were with him when he died."

"No. I was the one who found him, trapped under a ten ton girder, broken, trying to stay conscious long enough to see Max again. I was the one who chickened out when he asked me to finish him quickly and left him to die alone and in pain."

"He did all that for Max?"

"Logan saved her life, by spending thirty hours straight hacking into the National Guard's comms. We knew the attack was coming thanks to him, and it gave us time to get away while he tried to stall them. He saved all our lives, at the cost of his own. Like I said before, he was our brother."

"An honorary transgenic; they must be pretty rare."

"They're extinct. Max is probably on the top of the dam. She goes up there to think, to grieve for Logan."

"Thanks, Alec. I'll go look there. He turned to go."

"Oh, and Zack? Make sure she hears you coming. You don't want to walk in on a private conversation."

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Logan sighed as White left. For a selectively bred superior human, he really was stupid. Still, he wasn't complaining; White's meeting with Hammet had kept the computer expert from looking over his shoulder long enough that he could write and send the email to Sebastian. Of course he'd been showing off his abilities to them, trying to convince White his story had been the truth.

Hang on Max, he thought, I'm coming home to you soon.

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"God, Logan, I don't know if I can do this without you. Even when we couldn't touch, just knowing you had my back made me feel so safe. I hope you know that. Now Zack's back he's going to try and take over like he always does, undermine my authority, and your memory. What if the others start to support him, or Mole, or one of the others? The only ones I can really count on are Joshua, Alec and Jondy. At least I hope I can."

"What I wouldn't give to go back in time and be with you again. Just be safe and warm in your arms, listening to your heart beat, your breathing, smelling your unique scent. 'The world is grown cold, knowing you've gone away.' I get what that song meant now. The only colour left anywhere is in Joshua's painting, in your beautiful eyes. If I still had my heart, it would have stopped beating when yours did, and then at least we'd be together."

"I miss you so much. I think about you every second of every day. I'm sleeping way more than usual right now, because every time I sleep I dream about you. There was a really good one last night involving your six-pack and a bottle of maple syrup, but I won't go into that."

"When you thought you'd lost me, did you feel like this? How did you cope? I mean did you just throw yourself into your work like when you were shot? Would that work for me? I doubt it, somehow. Maybe it was the thought of revenge that kept you going. Maybe watching White beg for his selectively bred neck before I break it will make me feel better. Next time I stop Joshua killing him, it'll be so I can do it myself. "

Max's sensitive hearing picked up a twig snapping in the forest below her.

"Who's there? Show yourself."

"It's only me, Max. Alec said you might be up here."

"What do you want, Zack?"

"I want to say… sorry. You're right, I have been a pain in the ass. I can see how much pain you're in, and there's nothing I can say or do that will make it better."

"Wow, the mighty Zack admitting he's in the wrong? Are you sure you're not a clone?"

"Come on, Max, there's only one guy who can be as big an asshole as I can. I want to help you, in any way I can. So, I'm leaving first thing tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to collect the rest of the class of '09 and bring them here. If you're going to take on this cult thing, you're gonna need all the help you can get."

"Oh, Zack." Max hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

"Hey, what are brothers for if not backup."

"Brothers?"

"Brothers, Max. If you'll still have an overprotective GI Joe like me in the family, that is."

Of course I still want you in the family, Zack, I've never not wanted that.

I'm sorry, Max, for everything. I guess Logan wasn't so bad.

Zack just held his sister as she cried on his shoulder, not knowing what else to do. When her sobs eventually subsided, he tentatively let go of her.

Thanks, Zack. I needed that. Come on. Alec and Jondy will be wondering where we are.

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So did you like?

Not as much Logan as I planned, but I thought I needed to get the whole Zack thing out of the way before I developed that part of the story.

The song lyric I quoted was from the brilliant 'Gone Away' by the Offspring, listen to it and you'll understand.