Chapter Nine: Life and Death
A lab. Cold. Dark. Sterile. Like and yet unlike Dexter's neatly ordered kingdom. The only lights came from a few computer panels and . . .
In rush of dust and debris, Jetray came to dead stop. In the center of the room was a thick-walled, sealed glass chamber that glowed with a sickly green light.
Dexter was in the chamber.
Icy fear seized Ben Tennyson down to his very soul at the sight of his friend collapsed against the wall of the cell. There was a smear of blood on the glass and the young scientist was absolutely still. His first and last thought was that Dexter was dead, and his alien heart quailed at his human emotions.
A slight, dark figure standing on the far side of the room looked up at him, seemingly unsurprised at his presence, completely uncaring for the suffering of his victim. The chamber's eerie light illuminated the green skin and red eyes of Dexter's Fusion twin. One glance told Ben everything he needed to know - this twisted puke was pure evil.
"Ben Tennyson," he said with primitive pleasure. The voice was deep and gravelly, and he focused on the black-and-green symbol of the Omnitrix on Jetray's chest with unmistakable lust. "You have something I want."
"So do you, you sick little creep!" Ben shot right back, staggered. This thing could talk? "Get him out of there!"
The Fusion smirked. "Get him yourself."
Dexter stirred slightly, and proof that his friend was still alive was all that Ben10 needed. He leaped to the air and flew around the lab twice, building speed before he launched himself at the glass compartment, a blur of orange and red. He had a fleeting glimpse of Dexter bleeding from the ears and nose and mouth, pale and dying, before the shock wave of his impact shattered the glass and threw the younger boy against the metal frame. The pressure chamber exploded outwards in a rush of glistening shards as atmosphere returned to the little room. Jetray was moving faster than the spray of glass and he swept past Dexter so quickly as to suck the debris away. The broken glass smacked into the far wall as he darted out of its path, leaving both of them untouched and the lab peppered with bits of sharp-edged shrapnel. Dexter lay where the momentum had thrown him against the back of the cell and did not move. There was not time to see if he was still breathing.
"Very impressive," said the Fusion, adjusting his glasses in a very Dexter-ish gesture. He deliberately pressed a button on the panel before him, and with a satisfied air he turned to confront the one person he had wanted most to see. His hands balled into fists and a slow smile twisted his thin green lips. "What else can you do?"
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The cell was cold, though not as bad as the refrigerator DeeDee had been kept in, and very dark. The KND team kept back from the door so as not to silhouette against the light from the corridor as Number Five edged close to the entrance.
"Yo, anyone in there?" she called, weapon at the ready. "Answer up!"
Silence, and then a small, faint voice asked, "Hello?"
"Who's there? Come on out, pal, and keep 'em where I can see 'em!"
There was a shuffling sound as someone moved to the door, and presently a small figure came hesitantly toward the light. He was filthy and pale and had a wild, frightened look about him.
"Who're you?" demanded Number Five, disappointed that it wasn't Dexter.
He blinked, and his eyes were devoid of any hope. "I'm Mac."
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He looked like Dexter. He moved like Dexter. He even glared like Dexter. It was the strangest thing for Ben to be contending with this inhuman creature that was so . . . human.
The fight was purely physical right now, pitting speed against strength, two alien beings that would never have met save that they battled for the same prize. Ben needed to stop him, to keep this doppleganger away from his helpless friend. Dexter was a wretched, immobile smear of white and red lying amidst the remains of the pressure chamber.
He'd fought these Fusion creatures before, but this one was different. Smarter, it almost seemed, more precise and ruthless if that was even possible. He was fast, too, almost as fast as Jetray.
But not quite.
Speed was everything now. The Fusion was stronger than an Aerophibian, and so Ben did everything to keep him off balance and get in strikes to try to cripple this thing long enough for him to grab Dexter and get away. They exchanged blows that Ben knew he would be feeling later, but he never let up for a moment. With a burst of velocity Ben streaked behind the copy of Dexter, lashing out with his tail as he passed. The doppleganger staggered not with pain, but at the sheer impact. Seeing his chance, Ben whirled at a pace dizzying even for him, going in for a second strike.
The Fusion caught his tail and held it, crushing tight, his fingers digging into the tough hide. Ben let out a howl of pain, yanking against the grip. There was murder in the Ur-Dexter's red eyes.
So Ben Tennyson did the first thing he thought of and whipped his wing straight across those eyes.
A cry of anger rang out and the Fusion staggered back and away. Ignoring the pain from the scratches in his tail, Ben poured on the speed, back and forth across the room at a terrific rate, thrashing the wicked copy with each pass. It was a good feeling to strike back at this thing that had caused so much agony. Foster's. Dexter. DeeDee. He did this for all of them, but most especially for his friend.
A cry of anger and defiance rang out, but from whose throat it came Ben could not say. At the next hit, delivered with all his strength, the Fusion destabilized. Oozing green slime, the copy of Dexter tumbled to the floor, broken. Ben would have loved to smear this little puke from here to Pittsburgh and back, but there was no time. He had to get Dexter out of here. Now.
But not in this form. He couldn't fly and carry Dexter as Jetray. Besides, without protective gear and oxygen, Jetray's speed would probably do Dexter in, given his present state. At his friend's side he powered off the Omnitrix, reverting back to human form for a moment. He leaned over Dexter, grimacing at the tacky, sticky feel of half-dried blood as he checked for a pulse. He was alive.
"Dex . . ."
There was a sound behind him. Ben whirled to see the Fusion laboriously trying to reform his body, drawing the spattered green goo back to him, watching with maniacal greed and hatred. Ben let out a hiss of alarm and activated the Omnitrix.
"Big Chill!"
He slapped his hand onto the control and gave himself over to the alien technology, changing, reforming, remaking him into the Necrofriggian. Wrapped in his wings, he turned to the broken copy of his friend and with his next breath he let out a blast of icy vapor to envelope the Fusion. The green-skinned Dexter's hiss of fury broke off as he was immobilized, a thick coat of frost covering him and the surrounding equipment. That would hold him, but past experience against these Fusion Matter dopplegangers told Ben that being turned into an ice cube wouldn't stop him for very long.
He threw his four wings wide and knelt by the wrecked pressure chamber. Carefully, as gently as he could while still making haste, he lifted Dexter into his arms. Even with his alien strength Ben was shocked at how little he weighed, and the younger boy was absolutely limp. He lingered long enough to be sure Dexter was still breathing, trying not to be horrified at the blood on his face and neck and hands and the dark stains on the front of his lab coat. Clasping him close and secure, wishing there was some way he could let his friend know that he was free, Ben ran to the door, his wings already beating the air.
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"Mac?" Number Five looked to her team and received only negative responses. The name meant nothing to them.
"I was at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. We were attacked," the ragged boy said quietly. He looked shaken and scared, but like DeeDee he was unhurt. "The Fusion Monsters brought me here . . . uh, I dunno how long ago."
Number Five stared, rocked by this revelation. This was the last thing in the world she had expected.
"You're coming with us," she replied. "Number Eighteen, keep an eye on him and DeeDee." She looked to the skinny blonde. "Dee, scream if you see any Fusions. Got it?"
"Got it," said DeeDee brightly, and taking a deep breath she let out a blood-curdling scream at the top of her lungs, pointing down the hall toward her old cell.
The commando team jumped a foot in the air and whirled about to see two Mechs moving toward them from out of the shadows. Their sensors glowed red in the gloom and their weapons were being brought to bear on the cluster of child soldiers.
"Fall back!" shouted Number Five, seizing DeeDee and yanking her along. "Move it!"
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He did not have time to seek out another, shorter route for fear of getting lost, nor could he use the Necrofriggian ability to phase through matter to reach the upper levels of the refinery. The intense cold would kill Dexter. Instead Big Chill was forced to fly through narrow corridors that barely allowed him to spread his wings fully, moving as fast as he was able and as he dared to get back to the surface. He constantly checked on the small form clutched to his chest, so warm and fragile in comparison to a Necrofriggian.
A rumbling vibration filled the air and he paused, hovering, his sensitive antennae quivering as he tired to get an idea of what was happening. The long-abandoned steel mill that the tracking beacon had lead them to was nestled in a river valley amidst the ubiquitous mountains that covered this region of Pennsylvania. The area was honeycombed with mines and dotted with heaps of slag and waste, and it had been mostly abandoned by people even before Fusion's arrival had driven out every living thing that remained.
Their arrival here was just a promise of things to come - it had been as hot a landing zone as Ben had ever seen. They had been met by half a dozen towering Fusion Monstor that looked like nightmarish dinosaurs gone completely wrong, and even before Number Five set The Princess down Jetray and Buttercup had exited the aeroship and attacked. He had broken off his assault on the monsters the moment he saw Number Five's team enter the plant in search of Dexter, leaving Buttercup and the crew of The Princess to handle things in the air while Samurai Jack led the assault from the ground. It was their job to engage the Monsters and the inevitable Mechs and buy the two infiltration teams time to get their friends and, if Mandy's hastily relayed information about the spy in headquarters was correct, destroy the Fusion Dexter. Ben was not worried about the assault squad. He had chosen them because they were proven to be capable, seasoned fighters and they knew their business well.
No. It was Dexter that had him sick with anxiety. In the past Ben had witnessed for himself what Fuse's dopplegangers were capable of doing to a person in an hour. Minutes. Seconds.
And Dexter and DeeDee had been captives here for days. Betrayed, seized, and tortured, Ben realized bitterly that the fusion had used his friend as much for information as for bait to draw in him and the Omnitrix. He held the sad results of that betrayal in his hands right now. Anxiously he checked Dexter again. Unconscious, but alive.
At first he had been rather astonished at how resourceful his friend had proven to be. A tracking beacon in his glasses had been a stroke of genius - but then, what did he expect from a genius? As Mandy had said in the lab, "This is Dexter." He shouldn't have been surprised, but he couldn't help but wish that Dexter had not parted with the glasses. Of course he would entrust them to DeeDee, though. Helpless as he was, Dexter had again put himself between his sister and Fusion.
Another low, echoing roar reached his senses. The rumble was not from outside where Earth's Forces faced the Fusion Monsters. It came from beneath him. Big Chill paused, straining his antennae. He could sense Dexter's uneven breaths, the sound of the air past his wings, and . . .
A hissing sound, almost like a wave breaking on sand, reached his senses. He turned to face this new development, bracing the small body of his friend against his chest, bracing himself for the worst.
Or so he thought.
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It was very evident within a minute of fighting the smaller Mechs that they had two very distinct goals in mind: Mac's demise and DeeDee's capture. Why they should be trying for either kid Number Five had no idea, nor did she care. It was enough that the Mechs were gunning for both of their former prisoners. They were too small a unit to take on three of these things at once, especially since they had two shaken and mostly useless civilians to protect (though DeeDee was doing an excellent job as an early warning system, having spotted – and screamed at – three more Fusion Mechs).
Three of the seven KND commandos laid down cover fire as they retreated down the hall, back to the machine shop entrance where they had entered. They could hear the sounds of the battle going on outside, see the flash of weapons and energy beams against the dark sky. For a moment bright green light poured through the broken windows and skylights. They knew that Buttercup had just flown past the shop at breakneck speed.
"We gotta get outside pronto!" called Number Five. They wound through the gloomy remains of equipment and work tables to the door, but even when she put her shoulder into it the door would not budge.
Number 431 jumped onto a table, straining on tip-toe to see out the grimy windows. She was too short, so she pressed her eye to a crack in the wall by the door frame.
"Blocked," she announced. "Looks like something plowed up the ground in front of the entrance, but this way's no good." She looked to the windows, but they were too high to reach.
"This way!" called Number Eighteen, waving at them from the other side of the room. He shoved the heavy door open.
"Wait!" cried Number Five, too late. A green mechanical claw snatched him through the door, into the darkness beyond, and his howl of surprise was cut off abruptly. He didn't have a chance and a moment later more of the Mechs – small but numerous – forced their way through.
"Number Four, we need backup!" Five shouted into her communicator as the KND team drew back towards the blocked doors of the shop.
"We're kinda pinned down!" came his choppy reply.
"Get kinda unpinned or we're toast! The door's blocked!" she shot right back, taking aim with her null-void caster. They soldiers were firing fast and furious at the advancing Fusion Mechs, but there were too many for the concentrated fire necessary to do real damage.
A piercing scream ran out, echoing against the metal walls as one of the Mechs seized DeeDee. Panicked, she struggled as it lifted her bodily and began to withdraw, back the way they had come. Number 431 shoved Mac behind a huge drill press, letting the old equipment shield him since he drew so much fire before she made a try to free DeeDee. One blow from the hulking Mech sent her flying, and she crashed to the floor.
"We need help now!" screamed Number Five into her comm unit. She dodged and took cover, seizing 431 by the ankle to haul her limp form out of the line of fire. "Watch her!" she ordered Mac, laying hold of the commando's gun. She brought both weapons to bear on an advancing Mech that looked like a cross between a gargoyle and a robot and fired at almost point-blank range. The creature spattered green slime and another round of twin shots brought it down.
"Keep at it!" shouted Five.
The room was hot and stank of ozone and Fusion Matter. The flashes of lasers from other side gave the large room into a weird, disjointed strobe effect. DeeDee was screaming desperately, pounding on the Mech with her bare hands. There were too many Mechs to fight. They were being overwhelmed. Mac let out a shout of alarm as his cover was yanked away and he and 431 were exposed to the Fusion Monsters. He tried to scramble out of the way and dropped to the ground with his hands over his head as the Mech loomed tall and menacing over him.
"Heads up, Number Five!"
She barely heard Number Four calling her over the comm unit strapped to her wrist. A moment later there came the sound of shattering glass and the white-robed form of Samurai Jack came leaping down through one of the skylights. He landed lightly amidst the Mechs, giving them pause, and a moment later his sword leaped from is sheath and he began to cut a swath through the hideous creatures. More glass rained down, followed by ropes, and Juniper Lee led a handful of KND commandos into the shop. They rappelled down to the shop floor, catching some of the Mechs in a cross-fire, and they leaped into the thick of the fight. Juniper landed on one of the shop tables and jumped to the floor, standing over the prone form of 431 and defending the downed operative. She gestured broadly, gritting her teeth, and the Te Xuan Ze sent the advancing Mechs stumbling back away from Mac. With a frightened shout he hurried to get behind her.
"Jack! Get DeeDee!" ordered Number Five, waving him to the far end of the room.
The samurai turned, took in the situation instantly, and crossed the shop in a series of bounding lunges and jumps that brought him over abandoned equipment and fusion Mechs alike. He landed in front of the armored creature holding DeeDee, blocking the way out, his steely gaze as intense as any laser beam. DeeDee stared in mute astonishment, choking on her scream, her blue eyes wide.
Then Samurai Jack was a blur of motion, the curved katana moving gracefully through the air at a speed too fast to follow. Abruptly he stopped, satisfied, waiting and watching, and after a moment he stamped his foot.
The tall, insect-like Fusion creation shifted, and then slid to the floor in neat slices all around DeeDee. She was dropped down to her feet as it collapsed around her, and with a little squeak of "Oh!" she stepped free of the slimy puddle of goo.
"Thank you, Jack," she whispered.
He nodded his head in return, and then crouched down, pulling her arms around his neck in a tight hold as he prepared to return to the fray. With her wry dancer's strength she clung to him, letting out a happy and inappropriate "Wee!" as he leaped back across the room. He set her down beside Mac and immediately returned to the battle.
A few minutes later, it was done. Panting, gasping, the exhausted Earth troops looked to each other and their wounded.
"We . . . we gotta get out of here," gulped Number Five, hanging her head for a moment. Her arm was bleeding and she didn't even feel it. "Who's hurt? We lose anyone besides Eighteen?"
Before anyone could respond their comm units sprang to life.
"Number Five!"
It was Number Four. He sounded more alarmed than usual. She looked at Juniper and immediately the Protector activated her communicator. "This is June. Go for Five."
"The Princess heard from Ben! We've got trouble!"
Juniper and Number Five exchanged an incredulous look.
"What did we have just now?" wondered Juniper.
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A glow, faint and ominous, filled the darkness behind him. He stared, needing to know what was coming.
Then he saw it, creeping along every surface like some diseased mist, filling the air with a sickly glow and the stench of Infection.
This was why the Ur-Dexter had been so satisfied. He'd released Fuse's answer to mustard gas.
He wheeled around and flew as fast as he could, away from the spreading alien virus. In this state the Infection would suck the life out of them both, destroy the very structure of the mill, poison the land and river as far as it could spread. Everything it touched would be undone, reduced to so much more raw Fusion Matter, so much more ammunition to be thrown against them. It would go on and on, consuming and refining itself, breaking down the terrestrial matter at a molecular level until it was condensed to the familiar stuff that made the Mechs and Monsters and dopplegangers.
Suddenly he swept to a halt, hovering mid-air. The glow was now coming from before him as well. There was no forward, no back. Big Chill looked up, and without hesitation blew a blast of arctic air at the ceiling above. The metal gave way, collapsing with a phenomenal crash, and he angled his wings close to dart through the opening he'd made. Another hall like the one below, another blast of freezing breath and this time he had to kick the frozen metal to get it to budge. The icy swath of ceiling came down in noisy, dusty sections and he wrapped his wings tightly around himself and the boy he carried to protect them both from the falling debris.
A swift glance back showed him the glowing, almost glittering green Infection spreading up through his opening from the level below. He leaped to the air, soaring into the open plant floor above. It was a huge space, two or three stories high, and in its heyday had been used for producing steel. Through the dim windows he could see streaks of color and light as the battle raged outside. Behind him the lower levels of the complex began to collapse, consumed. He looked down. The Infection was spreading, oozing through the steel mill from the regions below, spreading like mold.
He keyed his communicator. The rest of the team needed to know they were being threatened from below.
"Princess! This is Ben! Come in!"
There was a delay and a crackle and then a young and excited voice called, "Ben! Report! Did you find him?"
"I got Dexter. He's in bad shape. The Fusion is still down there but he's released an Infection. Repeat, he's released an Infection! It's spreading through the complex. We've got to get out of here now!"
"Infection?" squawked the comm officer. "I'll signal a recall. Do you need help?"
Then he realized that something was wrong, terribly wrong, beyond the onset of the Infection.
"Dexter!"
He wasn't breathing.
"I've got a man down!"