Part 9 – Tell me
November 2nd, 2011


1 : Michael

2:53pm
T minus 1 hour, 7 minutes

"It took me no small amount of time, bribery, and deception," Christy was saying while she served herself a second cup of coffee, the smell of burnt cookies fading. For the past twenty minutes she'd been telling him her credentials as an investigative reporter, how bright Daniel was, and how devastated she had been when he had disappeared six years ago. And how much skill one person needed to find Dave's past.

The great thing about someone with an ego as big as hers was that she actually couldn't stop talking. Somewhere in her mind she had decided that Dave's information was off limits if it was about now, but his past was worthy of a lengthy novel.

So far, however, things had yet to get interesting. Her beloved brother Daniel was a genius with computer codes, like everyone who was a Network Keeper needed to be. He'd been sixteen when he had found Dave. Seventeen when Dave had found him.

"Dave had to have a past, that's the first thing you know about everyone," she said, finally getting to what Michael really wanted to hear. He politely nodded, wondering if Christy could figure out his past when it was on a far away planet at best, buried in a pod in the desert at worst.

"His parents were radical human rights activists in Africa," she began, as Michael braced himself for some sordid story. Human rights activists was not exactly how he had pictured it starting. "His father was a freelance photographer for National Geographic, an English guy who fell in love with a very outspoken Islamic woman. Neither of Dave's parents kept ties with their families and, as far as I've been able to follow, Dave was never interested in searching for any relatives."

"They are dead, right? His parents?" Michael pointed out. The pieces of the puzzle that they had were few, and now Michael was eager to determine if all those little clues Dave had left behind had been truthful or not.

"Yeah. Landmine. I don't think they would have made it too far with the kind of uproar they wanted to make, if you ask me. But we're getting a little ahead. Dave was actually named David Cole, born in some really weird circumstances at the US Embassy in Algiers. He was riding the same car his parents were when they hit the landmine. Dave was six."

"So he was orphaned. Where did he go?"

"To the US embassy, of course. Dave's parents had wanted him to attend a school for the 'gifted' and had sent applications to a variety of schools and programs. Tests were sent, Dave scored the highest they had ever seen, so they had arranged for Dave to visit some of those school and be retested. Those results traveled fast, and once little, orphaned David was identified, the US claimed him as a citizen. With no one to contest custody, they got away with it."

Michael frowned. "He's always hinted at… more than just a little disdain towards the US government."

"Of course he has. He was working for them by the time he was seven."

It wasn't hard for Michael to imagine himself, freshly hatched from his pod, in a room full of people wondering how he could be used. "With that kind of IQ, I can see why."

She nodded her agreement as she sipped her coffee.

"It was the middle of the cold war, mind you. But most significant is the fact that it was the place where Dave met Jake."

"A partnership made in hell," Michael whispered.

"I couldn't really find much about the place, actually. Most of what I found was related to a US secret project named 'Alpha', where they put to good use the brightest, youngest minds in America. They thought children's creativity along with their brainpower would result in out-of-the-box solutions. Dave was good with codes, so most of his time was spent deciphering and creating them. Jake had a talent with chemistry, bio weapons, that sort of thing."

"But… Jake was like, what? Eleven?" Michael asked. He wasn't the doctor's best cheerleader, but he liked Jake well enough to endure the endless questions and star-struck eyes.

"He was six himself when he started. When Dave arrived, Jake was twelve."

"What about Jake's parents? All the kids were super geniuses without anyone to claim them?" Wouldn't that be just a little too convenient?

"Not really. Most of the kids were there with their parents' consent. Not only did the government pay them well, they were being patriotic. Working for the National Defense is hardly child abuse. Dave and Jake and a handful of others were orphans, but they were the exception."

"So it doesn't sound like a horrible place, and they were probably treated decently? Dave didn't come out very patriotic…"

She thought it through. "That's something I have not uncovered. Except for a handful of paper trails, all I managed to find was that they escaped. They have been chased for more than thirty years, so there must be something those two know that is still valuable 'til this day."

She sighed, maybe thinking telling him all this was not such a great idea after all. "It's never easy with Dave. Half of the things I got are incomplete at best, but it seems like Dave was… difficult, when he arrived. So the man in charge of the division asked Jake to supervise Dave. Get him to work. I bet McKay kicked himself into the middle of the next week when the match he made figured out a way to escape. He was the supervisor of the project at the time," she explained at Michael's raised eyebrow.

"How old were they?" Michael asked, intrigued. Michael didn't have to be very creative to know why would Dave be valuable thirty years later: his mind. Just like Michael knew that thirty years down the road he would still be valuable for just his powers.

"Jake was eighteen. Dave was twelve. With all they knew, I imagine the Defense Department wanted them back, and quick. It was 1977, and the next logical step for them would have been to go to the Russians."

"But they didn't?"

"I don't really know… There's hardly any evidence of what they did. Dave faked his own death when he was nineteen. By the time he was twenty-six, he'd already started his own small company. He bought and sold information around the world. He was three steps ahead of everyone from what I've gathered. By 1991, the world was moving into the internet, his very own domain, and Dave didn't waste time."

Michael thought about it for a minute, while Christy went to check her second cookie tray. Standing up, he followed her a moment later. "So why is Dave so desperate to keep his identity secret? They already know who he is."

"You mean, besides the fact that he's supposed to be dead?" she reminded him from the kitchen. "A man in his position doesn't want to be found, whether you think he's alive or not."

"He's made a lot of enemies," Michael concluded as he stopped by the sink.

"He's Dave. Of course he has. But McKay never stopped looking for Jake. Dave has done a lot of things to screw them up over the years, too. That's how Danny found something important enough to make Dave leave him alone."

"I thought he'd gotten into Level Six codes?" Michael asked, taken aback.

"He did. Half of what I've told you was there. Danny threatened to go to McKay and give him the Level Six encrypted files. Dave let him go the next day."

"I don't get it, why wouldn't' Dave make him disappear?" Michael asked, confused. There was a twenty-four year old man out there holding the key to Dave's empire, and he was still alive?

Christy looked at him equally confused. "I thought you said you work for him…?" she slowly said.

"For the past eight years and then some…" Michael admitted with an annoyed tone.

"Then you haven't been paying attention. Dave never kills. He lets your problems kill you. He sees that as some sort of poetic justice."

How long do you think the Unit will take to catch you once you are out of here? Dave's words echoed in Michael's ears. Dave never made the threat about himself. He always made it about the Unit. A Unit that he had slowly but efficiently disbanded. Or was Dave just keeping track? There had been nothing indicating that Dave had done it himself. It really didn't make sense: with no Unit, Dave had no leverage to keep them in check. On the other hand, only the agents from 2000 were dead. The Unit was still out there. Michael had checked it out himself.

"And because Daniel had no enemies willing to kill him…" Michael trailed off, mentally adding, no one was there to finish the job.

"Danny is not an idiot. He has too many files that people in high places would be more than willing to kill him for. So he keeps to himself. He doesn't tell me where he is, or what he's doing, and I don't ask."

She opened the oven and took the cookies out. This time, they weren't burnt. "So whatever you want from Dave, you're pretty much on your own here."

Michael was about to argue his case, when something more urgent and desperate came to his attention. Maria's fear. It hit him like a ton of bricks, and Michael had to brace himself against the sink so he wouldn't fall.

"Are you all right?" Christy asked, going to his aid.

"No… Yes," he corrected. "I just remembered something I need to look into. Can you tell Daniel to contact me?"

"He won't do it," she simply said.

"Just try. Here is my contact information," Michael said as he gave her a card. "Thank you for all you've told me."

"Sure," she said with a small smile. He turned to leave. "Michael?" she said before he stepped out of the kitchen, making him turn to look at her, "Don't come back."

Two minutes later, he was in the elevator descending to street level, trying to get a hold of Maria.


2 : Jesse

2: 57pm
T minus 1 hour, 3 minutes

"More coffee?" the waitress asked politely him as he was finishing the last remnants of his tiramisu cake. Susseth had left ten minutes before, and all he had to do now was wait for Isabel to show up. She wasn't near—that much he could tell—which would make her unusually late, and although Jesse had tried to call her, his phone was refusing to make any calls. She hadn't texted him either, but she probably was not going to be that late. The traffic was reason enough for such delay. Plus, she hadn't seen Max and Michael for some alone time in months, so they were probably still catching up.

Sometimes that made him feel like such an outsider. Isabel, Max and Michael shared something Jesse would never be able to understand, and although he loved her, her whole self, he was always more inclined to pretend what she could do didn't matter. She was a formidable lawyer, and she did far more with her way of working with the law than with changing molecular structures, so it was easy for him to forget that his wife had a non-human side.

She hardly ever talked about it, about what she could do, about her past life, which made him think he shouldn't talk about it either. It worked for both of them. This was their life, this was their reality.

He was no fool though. If Isabel wanted to talk about it, he would have to swallow his fears, his questions, and listen to the woman who had stolen his heart one July afternoon ten years ago. He knew what it was like to not have her in his life, and no amount of weirdness would ever make him stand aside and watch her leave him again.

He kept staring at the entrance. He had gained only a little information about Dave and Susseth's first encounter, but everything was important for their mental files. Once they knew they had enough to disappear, all six of them would. The only wild card now was Kyle.

Finishing his cake, he decided it was time to leave the table. He wanted to secure the paperwork in his room's safe, and change out of his business suit. Taking his briefcase, he made sure nothing was left behind on his table, and headed toward the lobby in search of the elevators. Before he reached them, he was intercepted.

"Jesse!" the enthusiastic voice called from his right.

"Liz!" he greeted his sister-in-law. He had not seen Liz for almost a year now, and she had changed little, if at all. They hugged. "I thought you were coming tomorrow," he said.

"Yeah. I was freed up early so, why not? You can never get tired of New York."

"You bet. Where's Max?"

"Waiting for me around the corner, in an hour. I was hoping I could sneak a peek at one of the stores in front of the hotel. Get a head start on Maria and Isabel."

They both smiled. Liz might be a good shopper, but the title was always being disputed by both blonds whenever they were in the same city.

"You haven't seen my wife, have you?" he asked.

Liz's shook her head. "They were supposed to be here by now, right? Didn't she arrive with you?"

"Yes, but I had a meeting with Susseth and she wanted to have a talk with Michael and Max. You know, one of those secret meetings they think we don't know about?" Jesse joked, though the truth was very close to the surface.

"Yeah, Max tries to… be discreet. You know they are only trying to spare our feelings, right? They've done this bonding thing since they were kids." Leave it to Liz to explain it in a rational and logical way. It still stung.

"Anyway, what are you planning to do? Just hang around?" Liz asked, looking at the lobby.

"I'm waiting for Isabel, actually. She's supposed to meet me right now, but I can tell she's nowhere nearby." He frowned a little. Even if Liz understood perfectly well what he was saying and how that felt, it was still weird to talk about it, openly, in a public space.

"She's probably with Max," she reasoned, not missing a beat. "Since they are both heading in this direction, maybe she'll come with him."

Well, if she was already late, it made sense. She didn't get to spend too much alone time with Max and Michael. That would leave him with enough time to go up, take a shower, and change his clothes into something more vacation-ish. If Isabel did come, she would surely ring his room.

"That sounds right, but I haven't been able to get any messages through to her. If you happen to see her when you meet up with Max, can you tell her I'm waiting for her? To call the room if she doesn't see me?"

"Sure. I'll keep it in mind." She smiled, already eyeing the door and the stores beyond that.

Giving her a light hug, he said, "Guess we'll see each other at dinner then." She nodded with a smile, and then went on her way. Jesse kept looking at the doors until she was out of sight, hoping he was wrong and Isabel would come through them. Finally letting it go, he turned towards the elevators, in search of hot water and comfy clothing.

He didn't know it, but dinner was going to be a late, late affair for him that night.


3 : Max

3:03pm
T minus 57 minutes

He'd been preparing for this day for a long time, but it didn't feel any easier now that he had to tell her the truth than it had been when he'd chosen not to tell her. Although hiding secrets from Liz was killing a part of his soul, the idea that Liz would doubt him—that she would think he was Zan and not Max—had always paralyzed him.

He hadn't meant to wait eight years, though.

He'd told Michael and Isabel the first time he'd gotten a vision, but he hadn't known how to break it to Liz. He'd thought there was a real chance that he would become Zan, and as Zan, he wouldn't care about her. So, as long as he was still Max, he would spend as much time with his wife as he could, always dreading the moment where he would disappear. That's what he'd told himself. The real fear, however, was that he'd been dreading that Liz would reject him. Liz knew Max, not Zan. She was in love with the small town boy, not the alien king of an entire planet.

She'd told him that herself, a lifetime ago. She was afraid he would choose that life over this. Tess over her. And although those dark times were gone, he couldn't deny the lasting effect those words had had on him.

Now he knew better. Now he knew who he was, what he wanted. So why was his stomach tying itself in painful knots, then? Because no matter what I do, or how I do it, I'll end up hurting her…

Walking alone in Central Park was barely helping him get a grip on his thoughts. Although the flashes were scattered by now, he'd still gained half of Zan's memories back. And often, when he was thinking things through the way Zan used to do, he did wonder if Jake had been right: if Zan was a valuable long-distance ally after all.

Except that, for this little dilemma, Zan didn't have an answer.

He sighed. Soon someone from Antar would come, bringing news from home. Soon he would need to fight for his right to be Max. And sooner than that he would attempt to explain to his wife how exactly it felt to have someone else's life at the back of his mind.

He could talk about Zan almost as well as he could talk about Michael, except Zan was more like a guest who had arrived unannounced and had never really left. It didn't mean he was Zan any more than he was Michael, and Max had certainly never looked at the mirror and thought of himself as Zan.

He'd learned things, yes, he couldn't deny that. He'd learned about self-confidence and authority; about overcoming fears and hiding insecurities. About walking a little bit straighter, talking a little bit more confidently. But that was as far as Max would go. Everything else Zan had cared about, was not what Max cared about. Not the throne, not politics, not Ava. That was all Zan's.

Sometimes, Max did dream about Antar. Those days, when he was waking up, he couldn't tell which one had been the dream and which reality. It was only for a heartbeat, but it was such a painful, endless heartbeat, in which he always knew which life he wanted more: this one, with Liz. To doubt, even for a second, that she was just a dream was hell. It would mean he would wake up to royal duties, spending a lifetime of knowing his soulmate was just dream.

His heart ached at that. This isn't a dream, he told himself, the cold November wind playing with his hair. His connection felt muted, somehow, as if Liz was taking a nap. He didn't like having to go to Dave now, not when Liz was across the city waiting for him. Keeping allies, though, was equally important, and Dave would not call him on a whim. Whatever this was, it had to be important.

Leaving behind his worries about telling the truth, Max focused on the task at hand: Getting to the Empire State Building on time.


4 : Jake

3:07pm
T minus 53 minutes

Rochelle's car roared to life, but Jake was hardly aware. He had been able to talk to Ray through his "daughter's" cell phone, one that was not connected to the network, and found that Dave was still not answering calls, and no one had seen or heard from him since early morning. In other words, he was still missing.

For the past week, their friendship had been strained almost to the breaking point. Dave had lied to him. Lied. For eight long years, Dave had been playing a dangerous game—dangerous not only to himself but to the kids as well, and had dragged Jake into it without his consent. Without trusting him.

But… if he could see past the indignation and the hurt, he understood what was at stake. It had taken a week for Jake to finally calm down, and when he had tried to reach Dave after seven days of silence, his friend was not answering. Dave was too eager for Jake's thoughts to have not answered. When he'd spotted the three men following him, Jake hadn't been really surprised. Scared, sure, but certainly not surprised.

One week ago, when they had met, Dave had finally given in. He'd been hanging up his cell phone when Jake had found him in his penthouse, standing like a statue looking down at the sea of lights that was the city.

They're coming, he'd whispered, looking out the window as the rain fell with no mercy that night.

Jake wished he hadn't asked who. For the first time he wished Dave had not been honest with him. Why didn't you keep lying? Jake somberly thought as streets and cars became a blur on his passenger window. Jake already knew the answer: Dave could no longer bear the burden on his shoulders alone. And that night a week ago, as he had turned to look at Jake, Dave´s eyes had told him he knew what he was about to say would not be easily forgiven.

"Here's your new cell phone until the network is back," Rochelle said as she waited at a red light. They were heading for the hotel where the kids were staying for their long-awaited vacation. Kids. They are no longer kids, Jake thought as he accepted the new device. He hadn't wanted to spoil this time for them. Between what he knew about the hybrids' memory recovery and what Dave had told him, he knew they had on their hands a volcano ready to erupt.

Ten years ago on a plane to Japan I made a deal… I put my nose where it wasn't supposed to be, and I ended up in the middle of another planet's conflict one sunny afternoon. Dave had looked… relieved in some strange way. Also resigned, Jake thought, knowing this was the end of the game. Jake had stared at him, feeling something cold taking residence in his heart. Not you, not them, he'd wanted to say, but had stood there, just listening.

They wanted Zan to come back. But Zan was a seventeen-year-old who could barely rein in his merry band. When Jake had first met Dave, all those long years ago, neither of them had had any friends. It had been an easy friendship. Granted, Jake had been assigned to make sure David understood that what he was doing was important, was for the good of the free world. Jake hadn't wanted to babysit David, but Jake had wanted to get out of there. How strange that thirty-four years later, it had been Dave who had dragged him into the abyss.

And I thought… the fate of the world hangs in the balance of a teenager's view of the world? Who is he? What is he going to do with all that power? Does he even consider himself human? McKay had never understood David. Jake didn't fear the General, because Jake had learned how to play the game. How to bury what his gifted mind understood: what his contribution to science would do to a human body. But David… David would always rebel against it, against the notion of war, cold or otherwise, and the idea that bad people existed was against everything his parents had taught him. He'd tried to deny them the use of his mind, and Jake had been all too eager to tell him he was doing the right thing.

So I told them, 'I'll keep him safe. When he remembers his old self, then Zan can claim his throne.' They didn't trust me. They said Zan was being hunted like an animal. Hunted by people like me. You have no idea how much I begged them to give me a chance. Jake had figured out how things worked by paying attention, being a nice kid, and talking to the adults in the program. Kids with parents didn't stay more than a couple of days at a time. But those kids—and those parents— were never given too much sensitive information. The handful that lived there, on the other hand… The program had had barely started when Jake had joined at the tender age of six. But by the time David arrived, Jake had already seen the older kids disappear. The ones who didn't have parents. The ones who knew too much. The ones who did special projects. So he could either go ahead and try to play it nice and not disappear, or he could disappear on his own terms.

By the time they finally granted me guardianship, the kids had barely escaped their own graduation ceremony. Their leader? He was furious… I don't know what kept him from retaliating, but I'm glad it did. Jake… if anything happens to Max, to any of them, Earth is doomed. He´s already wiped out the entire Unit that captured Max as justice for crimes committed against his king… What do you think will happen if his king dies by human hands? He had convinced David to escape before David had turned eight, but David was still a kid, and at fourteen, so was Jake. Yet Jake worked hard, made plans. By the time he was eighteen, he would run for it. David would be twelve. Not exactly a teen, but definitely not a defenseless child. Then, once David was settled in the world, Jake would follow his own path.

One look at them… at Max… And I knew I had to do something. I had to make sure that Earth would stand a chance. That no matter what else had happened, Earth was their home planet. That they would love it as they might love Antar. That they would stand by it. Defend it as their own. The night before the escape, Jake had looked into David's determinate eyes and asked him, seriously asked him, if he knew what it meant to be out. It means I would stand a chance, he had solemnly said. Jake had wholeheartedly agreed.

And now they are coming for Zan. Except Zan is nowhere to be found, because Max despises that side of himself. What are they going to do when they realize their king is not here? I can no longer protect them. This is a test they will fail. They had run all the way to the interstate, and panting, David had looked straight ahead. "Don't call me David again… Okay? I don't want to ever remember how he used to say my name. Ever."

Watching by the window in silence, Jake's mind repeated that, again and again. Jake had never told Dave that Max did remember Zan a great deal. And he was fairly sure Michael and Isabel did too, though they had never approached him. Because he had been hurt. Because Dave had kept this from them, knowing full well this was in store for them somewhere down the line. Because no matter what Dave thought, Jake had told him, Max would rise to the occasion. He just hadn't explained himself beyond that.

"You couldn't tell me that?" he softly whispered as the tall buildings loomed in the horizon. The city he had been ready to leave was impossible to abandon, it would seem.

I couldn't risk you! Goddamn it Jake, if those people even suspect you know half of this, they'll kill you!

"If you can't contact Ray, you should contact me. The numbers are already programmed in," Rochelle said as she effortlessly drove through the lanes heading for the hotel where the kids were staying. Ray wanted them all in the same place. And fast. Goddamn it Dave! Please tell me they didn't kill you.


T minus 47 minutes


AN: So, anyone had the right theory?