Chapter Seven: Love and War

"Tell me about the Omnitrix."

Aching and sore, he leaned his head back with a little groan. The electrodes of the probe burned the tender skin on his temples and he could barely hear. "Find out for yourself."

"Very well."

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"Jeez, Dex, I don't think I'll ever get used to how big this place is."

"I need it this large."

"If you say so. Don't you ever get lonely down here?"

"Sometimes."

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"That's it! Think about the analysis you did of the Omnitrix! Show me!"

". . . n-no . . ."

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"What happened?"

"There was a surprise attack on some place called Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends last night. It was Camp Kidney all over again."

"Are there any survivors?"

Mandy made a face. "Just a handful. They weren't really in a position to retaliate. I doubt many Imaginary Friends are combat trained. The place was trashed. We haven't been able to get an accurate casualty count because it became an Infected Zone."

"And you called me up here to tell me this . . . why?"

"According to eyewitnesses the attack was lead by your latest Fusion twin."

He turned away to stare out the windows of his office - her office now - a small groan escaping him. He rubbed his suddenly aching head and said bitterly, "I thought he was reported destroyed."

"It was. It won't stay dead. Jack destroyed one, Blossom destroyed two, and Ben's destroyed one and seen another. Just thought you'd like to know Fusion is gunning for you big time."

"Wonderful."

"Hey!" Mandy left her chair to march across the room and glare up at him. She was a fierce little thing, whether she meant to be or not. "You are not responsible for what that thing does!"

He dropped his hand and looked at her, making no attempt to hide his emotions. "Tell that to his victims."

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"Would you mind if I joined you?"

He looked up in surprise to see a short, bald boy wearing dark glasses and commando gear standing next to his table in the dining hall. Hastily he put his own glasses on again so that he wouldn't squint at the newcomer. The boy was about Dexter's age and he carried himself with confidence. He had an accent Dexter couldn't quite place, but it gave him an assured air.

"Not at all." He gestured to the seat opposite him, setting aside his reading and asking, "Cocoa?"

"Yes, please. My name is Nigel, by the way. Code name Number One, with the Kids Next Door."

"I know. I've seen you before and I read all the reports from the field." He poured a mug of steaming cocoa from the carafe beside him and handed it to his guest before refilling his own mug. He held out his hand. "I'm Dexter."

Number One clasped his hand firmly. "Thank you. And yes, I know who you are. I . . . well, you probably get this a lot, but I'm quite a big fan of your research. I've read everything you published about neurotomics."

He smiled faintly, surprised. "Actually, no, I don't get that very often at all."

Number One returned the smile. "I won't claim I understood everything in your papers, but your work is fascinating. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Fire away, Number One."

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He gasped, yanked back to the agony of here-and-now. Dexter didn't know why the mind probe worked, but he understood how. His thoughts, his memories, everything he knew was subject to the insidious mechanism. The Ur-Dexter, though, was digging so greedily for just the Omnitrix that a wealth of information was slipping past him.

"Give me what I want and the pain will stop."

The longer he delayed, the better chance DeeDee would have. He clung to that with what little will was left him.

"No. No. That's . . . when it . . . will start."

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"Billy, just because an idea comes at you quickly doesn't automatically mean it's good or should be acted upon."

"Uh, Dexter, do you mean I shouldn't have tried that glowing green jam I found in your refrigerator on my toast this morning?"

"That wasn't jam. That was Fusion Matter."

"I thought it tasted really weird."

"Yes. Well. Now we'll be able to study the effects of Fusion Matter on the human digestive system."

"Oooh! Like a science project?"

"Ex-actly."

"I bet you've wanted to do that for ages, Dexter!"

"Um, actually, no, it never occurred to me."

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Dexter ducked down behind the fountain in Townsville Square, instinctively covering his head with his hands as sharp-edged shards of rock rained down from the shattered statue of the Mayor. He had gone to meet Professor Utonium, stopped to talk to one of his suppliers, and the next thing he knew a vicious copy of his friend's daughter was trying to do him in. When he looked up a moment later he was nose-to-nose with a strangely serene and contemplative boy in oversized clothes and a knitted cap. He was toting a null-void gun but seemed completely disinclined to use it.

"Something about you personally seems to have attracted the attention of the Fusion Powerpuff Girls," the boy said in a rapid monologue. "I would guess that for some reason they've decided that you pose a considerable threat to their attempted hostile takeover of Townsville."

Dexter gaped at him. Philosophy. In the heat of battle, this idiot was trying to determine the motivations of the Fusion Blossom for doing everything in her very considerable powers to kill him.

"You aren't even armed, leading me to conclude that -"

"Give me your gun."

"I don't think you'd know enough abou-"

"I designed it! Give me that, you idiot." He wrestled the weapon out of the boy's grasp and checked the settings. With one savage twist he ramped the gun to maximum power. This was an old design and at this level it would be good for only four or five shots, if that, but against the Fusion Blossom they had no other hope than to disrupt her structure and get out of here before she restored herself and got back to the task of trying to eradicate Dexter.

"That's not -"

"Double D! Incoming!" screamed a voice from across the street. The idiot raised his head and looked about with interest, giving them away and giving Dexter the chance he needed.

He twisted around. The first shot missed - the gun's sights were off and it kicked like a mule - but the next four were right on target as the ur-Blossom dove down at them from above. The last shot shattered her form, spattering them with green, gooey Fusion Matter. He wiped off his glasses in disgust as he stood up.

"Thanks." He tossed the empty gun back. "Learn how to use this thing."

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He slumped forward with a groan. Too thin. The air in here was getting too thin to breathe. His lungs were burning for more oxygen. He gasped, unable to scream, his vision going black and sparkly on the edges.

"The Omnitrix," droned the ur-Dexter, goading, digging, testing for weakness. Where none was to be found, the mind probe created weakness with merciless cunning and relentless pain. "Tell me of the Omnitrix."

Anything but that. He had to think of anything but the alien device . . .

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"Wait! How much did you say?"

Dexter folded his arms and indulged in a smug and arrogant smile at Mandark's expense, but it was Mandy, busy signing the last round of paperwork, who replied.

"The lease is for one dollar, payable upon the successful completion of this war." She came dangerously close to smiling. "I'll even foot the bill myself."

"That's insanity!" cried Mandark. He turned to face his much shorter rival in order to rail at him in true miserly fashion. "This facility is worth millions!"

"Billions," corrected Dexter.

"And you're just going to hand it over to a pack of kids to use to fight a war?"

"You're catching on."

Mandy handed the paperwork to the host of dark-suited lawyers standing nearby so that they could check she'd signed in all the right places. "Earth's Combined Forces gets DexLabs headquarters, its holdings, DexCorp, vehicles, labs, all facilities, manufacturing plants, and grounds, etc., and . . ." Here she paused and gloated as the lawyers laid the papers out on the desk. "Its owner."

Mandark whirled on him, equally scandalized and confounded that Dexter could sell himself so cheaply. "You leased yourself to this war, Dexter? What kind of moronic move is that?"

He took the gold pen offered and began to sign page after page of legal documents, talking all the while.

"I can't speak for you, Mandark, nor can I imagine wanting to, but I for one am willing to do anything it takes to avert this invasion. This is not about money. It's about victory. After careful analysis, I have determined this is the best course of action to ensure Earth's survival. But don't worry for DexLabs. I keep all patents and copyrights I produce and will not pay for any upgrades to my facility. Allowing Earth's Forces to use this place will be excellent PR. Oh, and best of all, I'll be in the middle of everything and you'll be . . . across the street."

That last jab brought a blaze of fury and jealousy to Mandark's eyes. "I'll make a counter offer!"

"Too late." Dexter signed the last page with a flourish and handed the lawyer back his pen.

"We good?" demanded Mandy.

"Everything is in order and iron clad," said the lawyer, shuffling the papers.

"Good. Since this is now my office, you can take your ego fest outside, gentlemen. I've got work to do."

Dexter blinked in mild surprise, but he had just signed up for this and he was in too good a mood to argue. He turned to go. For a moment Mandark gaped, thrilled to see a girl pushing Dexter around. He threw back his head and began to laugh dramatically, his clawed hands raised towards the heavens.

"Ah-ha-ha! Ah-ha -"

"Shut up," ordered Mandy, halting him mid-laugh. "Get out."

There was nothing to do but obey, and Dexter smirked all the way to the lift. Mandark swept his cape around his lanky frame and followed, highly offended at being cut off in the midst of his patented evil laugh. They did not look at each other and the elevator ride to the lobby was silent until the doors opened.

"Tell me this, Dexter: why did you sign on to take orders from that obnoxious girl?"

"Because I'm much smarter than you are, Susan. Are you coming to the luncheon?"

"NO!"

"DeeDee will be there."

Mandark harrumped.

"Noon. My private dining room. An escort will meet you at the door."

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"What are these things? You value them. You suffer for them. What are they that you should protect them?"

Air. Blessed air. Dexter sucked in a deep breath and coughed violently, groaning as the reflex brought pain to his throat and ears and chest. The electrodes at his temples burned and throbbed at each beat of his heart. Opening his eyes a crack, he was surprised to see the blurry form of his Fusion counterpart just outside the thick glass walls of the chamber.

"They are my friends," he whispered.

"What does that mean?"

His tongue was thick in his mouth and he could taste blood. "That means I will fight for them . . . and they for me."

"Why?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "There is no love on Planet Fusion, is there?"

"No."

"What then?"

"There is only hunger."

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"Dex-ter! Oh, Dexter! Dex- oh."

DeeDee went from bubbly to concerned in less than a second at the sight of her little brother so dejected . . . again. School was neither simple nor easy for him she knew, and his genius robbed him of a peer group. Without friends, he was a target.

"Oh, Dexter, were they teasing you?"

He didn't answer, too ashamed and distraught to trust himself to speak. He just stared at the ground and tried very, very hard not to cry . . . again. DeeDee understood, and did not press.

"Come on." She took his small hand in hers. "Let's go home."

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"What is love?"

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"Who is that?"

Mandy shook her head and sighed, rolling her eyes and turning away as the chunky, nerdy, bespeckled boy blew her kiss after sloppy kiss. Clearly this was a one-sided love affair. From the central atrium he waved up at her office window all the way down the stairs in the entrance hall before tripping on Billy's cat and tumbling down the last dozen steps to land in a sprawled heap.

"Irwin," she said, her disgust as absolute as the Laws of Physics.

He ducked his head, trying desperately hard not to laugh out loud. Mandy's fury, impotent for once, only set him off as she snapped,

"Shut up! Go blow up something in your lab. Preferably yourself."

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"What does this button do, Dexter?"

"Not now, DeeDee, please."

"What's wrong?"

"This fuel mix isn't working. It should be working. I checked and double checked my calculations! I don't understand."

"Maybe you need a break. How long have you been at it?"

"I don't need a break! I need to figure this out!" He slammed his hand down with a bang.

"You didn't answer my question. How long have you working on this?"

"What's today?" he demanded shortly.

She ignored his temper. "Friday."

He blinked, surprised. "You're sure?"

"Yee-es. It's pizza day at the canteen."

"Oh." He pursed his lips, sorry for having raised his voice. He'd been working this problem non-stop since Wednesday morning. Taking a deep breath, he sat back in his chair. "Perhaps you're right. Pizza, you said?"

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Yup! Come on!"

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Dexter shook his head, confused by this change of pace and too exhausted and hurt and cold to rally his defenses. He rested his head on the glass, his words a mere whisper. "You've probed my memories. You've seen it expressed. Love is an emotion. You don't know it to recognize it."

"You love your sister?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because she is part of me."

The Fusion tilted his head, pondering this. "I am part of you."

Dexter did not dare to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see in this unnatural thing's expression. He had nothing left. No strength, no will, no resistance. He could feel himself fading. Given the chance, he would sleep forever. "You are not part of me. You are a shadow."

"Shadows prove the light."

"But they have no substance."

"Can love give substance?"

"It can make many things . . . worthwhile."

"Like pain?"

"Yes."

"And suffering?"

He swallowed, and his ears erupted in so much pain that he gasped. The pressure was increasing again.

"Yes," he rasped.

The Ur-creature's voice dropped to a whisper. "Does love make dying worthwhile?"

"I suppose I'll find out," he slurred, his voice all but gone. His nose was bleeding again. He didn't have the strength to stem the flow.

"The Omnitrix."

Despite all his efforts, all his defenses, his mind flashed back to that moment . . .

. . . No . . .

. . . and the truth - and Dexter - were laid bare.

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"Don't you ever get lonely down here?"

"Sometimes."

"Well . . . then what do you do?"

"I leave."

Ben sighed and shook his head. He'd walked right into that one. "Anyone ever tell you you're a smart alec?"

"Not lately. Smart, but not a smart alec."

"So. Think it worked?"

"Let's see. Computress! Play back the last hour of security recordings for the dining hall."

"There are six cameras in the dining hall," the computer's voice responded. "Would you like six screens?"

"To start," he responded. "We can narrow them down as we go."

Six huge screens appeared in the air around and above them, showing the comings and goings of personnel as they ate and relaxed in their headquarters.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked when Dexter made a little sound of vexation.

"I'm even shorter than I think I am."

"Yeah, well, you're young. There's hope."

"Thank you, Benjamin. Look! They're back."

"Again. That's the third time. Gee. Think they're looking for someone? Ah-ha." He pointed. "We've been spotted. Jeez! Good thing looks can't kill! You'd be leaving in a basket, Dex."

"Hmm. Perhaps he's confused me with my Fusion. Computress, zero in on screen three, upper right quadrant. Audible on this screen only."

They listened to their own conversation of minutes before and the chatter of the surrounding tables.

"Well?"

Ben folded his arms, unhappy. "Good little actor. I can't say he's guilty, but he's sure not innocent."

"The timing is right."

"We'll need a lot more than that to point fingers."

"Agreed. I'll have Computress monitor their movements."

"I'll stick close and I'll fill Mandy in when I see her next."

"Thank you. I probably won't see her until next week unless something happens."

Ben loosened the strap on his wrist. "So, this glitch . . ."

Dexter held out his hand and snatched the digital watch Ben dangled before him. He made a face of pure contempt as he held the timepiece up much the same way he would have held a rat by the tail. Dexter muttered under his breath.

"Hey! My grandfather gave me that!"

"Oh, I thought you got it out of a cereal box."

"Is that Mensa humor, Dex? Disappointed?"

"Completely!" He settled into a better mood a moment later. "The risk is too high for me to do more than look at that thing. I probably shouldn't even do that much." He waved his hand at the Omnitrix before he sighed and shook his head. He turned his attention to the watch, by now positively depressed. "I told you to wear this on your right arm. Whatever powers the Omnitrix disrupts a lithium battery."

Ben chuckled, well aware of how badly Dexter wanted to get his cold clammies on the device he wore. "Listen, Dex, I don't care what the Plumbers say. Once we kick Fuse's butt and get rid of Planet Fusion, I'll give you as much time alone with the Omnitrix as you want. You can test it, analyze it, wine it, dine it, do whatever makes you happy."

"Can I try it on?"

"Except that."

He cast a final, longing look at the Omnitrix, then averted his eyes, walking away to physically remove himself from temptation. "I'll hold you to that promise, Tennyson."

"I expect you to."

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"NO!" hissed the green-skinned copy. He slammed his fist onto the panel before him, denting it in his fury. "NO!"

Dexter hadn't lied. There had been no analysis of the Omnitrix, nor would there ever be. His spy had been wrong. All this time, effort – a waste.

He collected himself, staring at his helpless prisoner. Not a complete waste. He still had Dexter. He could still destroy him. With a glare and a sneer he adjusted the controls on the glass chamber, increasing the atmospheric pressure. As much as he could enjoy anything, he would enjoy watching his Earth counterpart die.

Alarms suddenly sounded. He looked up, unaffected by the knowledge that Earth's Forces had arrived. This was not entirely unexpected, though they had tracked down this location very quickly. No matter. He was done. Dexter would die. DeeDee . . . He considered the girl for a moment. DeeDee he would keep. The concepts of love and family intrigued him deeply, and she would be a valuable component in his studies. As for the other . . .

He turned to the waiting Fusion Mechs behind him. "Take the female in Cell 1 to the transport and prepare for departure. She is not to be harmed. Kill the other male prisoner in Cell 2. Prepare to repel an attack by Earth Forces. Go."

They filed out and he returned his attentions to his prisoner. With a twist of his wrist he increased the pressure almost to maximum. A harsh, agonized sound escaped Dexter, proving he was not unconscious after all. Not yet. He tossed his head, trying to escape the building pain. The green-skinned boy smirked.

Fascinating.