A Hero is Born: Part One
Friday, March 13th, 2003
Indigo City Docks. Peer 22
Introducing: James Marsden as Eric "FenrisX" Scott
Paul Walker as Alex "Garm" Steel 
Nelly Furtado as Jenna "Hydra" Lionheart
and Stephen Dorff as Marc "Cerberus" Kain
“You’re sure about this Eric?” Jenna asked, her voice full of uncertainty. “If Valhalla discovers that we’ve deliberately disobeyed orders, we’re going to be in deep shit”.
Had she asked him the same question a year earlier there would have been no doubt in his mind – Follow orders at all costs. But things change over time, people change over time.
Eric gently grabbed Jenna’s hand, and squeezed softly in an attempt of reassurance. “Its not right. All this, Valhalla, the missions, us, none of it is right, and I’m tired of ignoring it. I cant go on anymore closing my eyes pretending what we do is ok”. He paused for a moment, and rested his gaze on a large, private yacht which lay docked several meters away. “Inside that boat is an innocent family Jenna. A father, a mother, there are even two kids for Christ sake. I don’t give a f*uck what Valhalla wants us to do, I’m not killing them”.
Jenna stared into her lover’s eyes. “You’re right Eric, we can’t go through with this mission, or any other one for that matter,” she said as she brushed a long strand of her dark hair away from her face. No matter how much she feared the repercussions of what they were about to do, she too had to follow her heart, and right now it was telling her to disobey direct commands.
Eric didn’t need his telepathy to tell Jenna was scared – Hell, he was scared. People who went against Valhalla didn’t usually have long life expectancies, and if they were caught tonight, they would be no different. The company wouldn’t think twice about punishing them, despite their years of loyal service. “Its going to be alright Jenna, I promise”.
The two stood on the dock in silence, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on their shoulders. Finally the stillness was broken by a third voice. “What’s the matter? You guys look like you’re about to disobey an extremely dangerous underground organization known for punishing disloyal members…oh wait, my bad, we are”. Alex Steel, better known as “Agent Garm” was the third member of one of Valhalla’s most renowned forces: “The Pack”. If Eric was the brawn’s, Jenna the brain’s then Alex was definitely the heart of the team. No matter what situation they found themselves in, Alex was always able to ease the tension by making one of his grossly inappropriate jokes.
“Not now,” Jenna giggled in an attempt of reprimanding Alex.
“Now that you’re back, let’s go over the plan one more time,” Eric cut in, trying to maintain his composure. “Jenna and I will head onto the yacht, warn them that Valhalla is onto Mr. Thompson and his meetings with the government. Alex, you stay here and make sure no one is watching us, we don’t want any witnesses from Valhalla. Once they leave harbor, heading North up into Canada, we get back to the bikes and rush back to HQ. Remember, we say they were gone when we got here, but we think they went South”.
“And us?” Alex interrupted. “I don’t want to be Mr. Worry-guy, but how do we intend to leave Valhalla once this is all said and done. You guys know as well as I do that you cant simply give your two weeks notice and walk out”.
“One thing at a time buddy. Once we get back, and know for sure that the plan was successful, we’ll figure out how we’ll proceed from there”. Eric tried to sound as cool and confident as possible. Deep down he knew things were not going to be as easy as he made them seem, but he had to put on a brave face for Jenna and Alex. “Alright guys, from this point on, we use code-names only. Ready Hydra (Jenna’s code name)?”
“Ready as ill ever be,” she said taking in a deep breath.
“Alright, lets go”.
As agents FenrisX, and Hydra vanished onto the luxurious boat, Garm waited, carelessly scanning the perimeter for any would be spies. Had he been paying more attention, he might have noticed the lone figure, patiently watching him from the rooftop of the harbor masters’ building. The man was dressed in a similar Valhalla uniform, his however was jet black rather than “The Packs” red colours. Reaching up to his ear, the man retracted a small electronic device used to augment auditory capabilities. * Caught in the act Eric. You’re getting sloppy *.
Meanwhile, Inside the Yacht “Puffan”
“So you’re absolutely sure they know about my meetings with the government?” Mr. Thomson frantically inquired as struggled to put on his pants.
“Very sure. We were after all sent here to complete a “hit” on you and your family,” Hyrda reiterated. “Sir, we suggest for the safety of you and your family, you leave Indigo City now, and head North”.
The aging man desperately barked orders to his crew from the intercom in his room. Once he was sure that everyone on board was awake, and ready to set sail immediately, he returned his attention back to the two individuals who had no doubt saved his life. “How can I thank you? Name your price, I’m a very wealthy man”.
FenrisX and Hydra had no time to waste on prolonged gratitude. “There is no need sir, just get your family to safety,” Eric said. The two agents proceeded to make their way back up to the deck, and quickly off onto the dock. Once they were off the yacht, the boat briskly rumbled to life, and began sailing out of the Indigo-City port.
“Think they’ll make it?” Hydra asked as they jogged back to where Garm was waiting.
“With a bit of luck, they should be ok..” FenrisX replied, his voice abruptly trailing off as his attention was turned to another matter. “Where is Garm?”
“Don’t worry Eric, me and Alex were just catching up on old times”. Stepping out of the marina a few meters away, the stranger emerged, one arm around Alex’s neck, the other holding a gun to his back.
“Cerberus!” Jenna shouted angrily. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Cerberus tightened his grip around the neck of his captive. “What am I doing?! You filthy disobedient pups think you could pull one over Valhalla and get away with it! We’ve been on to you for awhile but we needed proof. Now that I’ve got that, I’ve got the green light to finish you all off,” he hissed, a twisted smile growing on his savage face.
FenrisX slowly advanced closer to the new enemy. “Marc,” he said, ignoring the man’s code-name. “Think about this. Let Alex go and we can discuss this”.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Cerberus paused and savored the moment. “You three always thought you were so great, the golden team of Valhalla. Well looks like your time to shine is over”. Cerberus leaned his head closer to Alex’s bloody face. “Any last words agent Garm?”
The beaten man could not even raise his head; Cerberus was no doubt using his energy drain abilities to syphon his life force. “Go..- cough – Go F*ck yourself Marc,”
BANG
“ALEX!” Eric and Jenna shouted in unison.
Blood spurted out from the front of Alex’s chest before Cerberus let him fall lifelessly to the ground.
“YOU BASTARD!” Hydra shrieked as she recklessly charged towards her friends killer.
Cerberus was quick to react, expecting such a response from his former comrade. His left arm quickly reached to his side, extracted another pistol and fired straight for Jenna’s head.
Agent Hydra, in such a state of rage had not expected such a fast response. She knew she had no time to dodge to bullet and thought she would join her fallen friend in a moments time. Before the flying metal death lodged itself in her skull however, an invisible force hurled her to the right and out of harms way. FenrisX had used his telekinesis to save his girlfriend, but he did not have time to save himself. Without a target to stop it, the bullet continued past its intended mark and instead struck Eric straight in the stomach. The force of the impact sent him painfully to the ground. Crimson life flowed from his wound, slowly bringing him closer and closer to death.
Before Cerberus could continue his onslaught, Hydra used her unique ability to create multiple illusions of herself, hoping that her enemy would not know which one to fire on. Her prayers however, fell on deaf ears.
“You think your little power is going to work on me Jenna? You’re illusions don’t emit a life force, so I can easily tell where you really are. Cerberus concentrated on extending his parasitic aura outwards until he locked on to the only woman who emitted energy. Once he had her targeted, he concentrated directly on her, quickly draining her stamina into his own being.
The world began to spin around Hydra. Black dots clouded her vision and an intense sense of nausea threatened to make her vomit. She knew she was a sitting duck.
“Alex couldn’t stop me”. He advanced on the real Hydra and ferociously grabbed her by the hair. “You’re boyfriend couldn’t stop me”. He dragged her towards her fallen lover. “And you sure as hell can’t stop me”. He stopped once they had reached FenrisX who was struggling to remain conscious. “Are you watching Eric? I want to make sure that before you die you see how useless you were in saving not only your best friend, but your precious Jenna”.
BANG
Eric watched helplessly as Jenna’s body fell down in the pool of blood which had accumulated before him. A sense of pure hatred rumbled inside FenrisX. Never before had he felt such hatred and malice towards another living being. “I swear Marc, you won’t get away with this”.
“Wont I?” Cerberus laughed as he dragged Eric towards the edge of the long dock. “You should have never disobeyed Valhalla; you brought this on yourself. “I’ve got to tell you Eric, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed making a hit so much as this on. Feeling Alex’s and Jenna’s blood wash over my hands was such a rush”. Cerberus roughly pulled Eric to his feet. “Give my best regards to the two agents Hydra and Garm cause you’re about to join them old friend”. And with that Cerberus shoved FenrisX to a watery grave below.
Eric slowly sunk beneath the surface of the freezing water. Before you die he had always heard that your life flashes before your eyes, yet all he could think of was his two fallen teammates, and how much he wanted revenge on the man who killed them. Slowly all sense of light began to fade, and his lungs began to scream for oxygen. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the hard, uninviting seabed which would soon be his final resting place. His eyelids began to flutter shut, and within seconds he was lost in dismal oblivion.
TO BE CONTINUED
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Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
Reunions – Part Two
Wednesday, 21st May 2003
Eric’s Residence, Outskirts of Indigo City
7:30am
Sydney first stretched her legs and then her back as she awoke to the slight stream of light pouring in from the small window. Everything was calm, serene, tranquil, a welcomed relief from her everyday life in Vega City. Sydney sighed, breathing in the cool country air as she stretched out some more in the big bed. Suddenly, something struck her as odd as she stretched out in the large bed: Eric wasn’t there.
At first she was a little confused, but then when the sound a boiling kettle came whistling into the room, she realised that he was no doubt, down in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Rising from bed, Sydney looked around the room for her scattered clothes. She had managed to find everything, save for her shirt. *I don’t think he'll mind if I just borrow this* she thought, retrieving a black t-shirt from a near by drawer. What would have been a perfect fit for Eric, was extremely baggy for Sydney, but she didn’t mind, in fact, she found the attire quite comfortable. Making her way down the stairs, she found Eric right where she had imagined.
"Morning," she said, through a large yawn.
"Oh Hey, did you uhhh..want some coffee, tea, something to eat?" Eric replied doing a bad job to hide his nerves.
Sydney raised an eyebrow in surprise at Eric using more or less the same line he had the night before. "Um, yeah, coffee would be good thanks. I didn't get much actual sleep last night," she said with a grin. She thought she saw Eric look ashamed but he turned away too quickly for her to tell. Sydney shrugged and went to sit down at the kitchen table.
"So how are you this morning? Up bright and early I see..."
"Yeah well, I wasn't able to sleep, so I went for a jog this morning, and then came home. I figured you would be hungry when you woke up, so here I am now," he said letting his voice trail off, as he began buttering the toast which had just finished cooking.
Sydney definitely felt as if something was wrong, but she couldn’t understand why? *He's the one who initiated last night, why would he feel bad after?* she thought, looking Eric up and down. Even if she couldn't understand the reason, she was sure he was upset.
"So do you think its safe for you to go back to Vega City?" he asked. His tone was somewhat ambiguous; was he asking so she would stay, or so she would leave faster?
Sydney blew on the cup of coffee to cool the hot liquid before answering. "I guess so..." she looked back at Eric. He was definitely acting strange but she was damned if she knew why. Being her usual direct self she decided to confront him.
"Eric? Is something wrong? Because I thought we were friends and now you seem in an awful hurry to get rid of me."
Eric stopped fiddling with the food on the counter and turned to face Sydney. His eyes were now filled with remorse and sadness. "I-" he started before pausing, to rethink he words. "Syd, we are friends, and its not that I want you to leave, because I don’t. I mean Well I do -" he stopped again, his broad shoulders slouching as if in defeat. "Its just, what we did, what I did -" he stopped not knowing how to finish
"What we did?" Sydney rose from her chair and instead leaned against the table. "Eric, we had sex, that's all; admittedly very good sex but sex nonetheless. You were feeling lonely, I was feeling lonely, all we did was to get a little bit of comfort from one another. What's wrong with that?" Sydney cocked her head to one side impatiently waiting for an answer.
"Its just that, well, Jenna..." he said lowering his head in shame, "I just feel like, like somehow, like somehow I betrayed her. She hasn’t even been dead a year".
Syd sighed, she didn't want to feel angry but that's how she felt regardless. She took Eric's hand and forced him to look at her. "You're being so stupid, do you think Jenna would have wanted you to put your life on hold? She's dead, nothing you do will bring her back again!"
Eric looked up, somewhat frustrated. "How do you know? You never met her, don’t presume to know what she would want. How could you understand anyway? I was with Jenna since we were teenagers, you've never loved someone like I loved her".
Sydney felt the anger she had been trying so hard to keep under control burn within her. She couldn't believe that Eric was using what she had told him in confidence against her. She tried for a moment to compose herself but failed, lacking the social skills to deal with the situation. "Maybe I haven't but then I've never behaved like a total jerk either! I guess that's two things you have over me."
Sydney marched back to the bedroom and began gathering her things up. Two minutes later she stood back in the kitchen, wearing her own crumpled clothes. "Whatever you do Eric, don't try and deal with your problems, that might prove too 'normal' for a guy like yourself. You might end up actually coming to terms with your life rather than bottling up all that 'tortured bat-boy angst'."
Eric realised what he said was uncalled for, and he definitely had not meant them. However what was said, couldn't be taken back, and by now, Sydney was half way out the door. "Sydney, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that," he apologised, but it fell on deaf ears. "Sydney wait,” he said gently grabbing her arm as she opened the front door.
She turned around and gave Eric a look that could freeze lava. "Get your hand off me before I break it, then you’ll really know what pain is" she snapped before she turned again, and bolted towards her bike.
Eric was going to call out once more, but he realised there would be no point. What he had said must have really hurt her, and he had acted like a big fat jerk. He stood in the doorway watching as Sydney's bike roared out of view.
"Fuck!" he cursed before punching the wall of his house. He had successfully managed to alienate the only person he had actually connected with in a long time.
"Well done Eric," he said aloud as he slumped carelessly on the couch, "You've managed to screw up yet again!"
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
Death's Masquerade
25th May, Outskirts of Indigo City
Like a wraith, the shadow unfurled itself from the darkness of a truck and crept towards a house. Night had long since fallen. It reached a wall, paused, then pulled a gun-shaped device and fired up at the roof. The shot was silent, and a rope emerged that wrapped itself round a chimney. It leapt up and quickly scaled the side of the house. There, it moved to the chimney and merged with the darkness once more. It’s head inched out slightly, and was skull white. Indeed, it was a skull, and within the bottomless pits of its eyes two red dots peered out.
The gaze, the look of death, stared across to the nearest house, which was faceless and similar to the one it now haunted. But to the wraith it was different. A single light was on inside, on the left left. It watched. And waited.
Inside the house, Eric was preparing to leave. He couldn’t stand being there anymore. After everything that was happening, he needed to get away from it all, even if it was for just one night. Grabbing his leather jacket, he headed for the door. Tonight he would venture out into Indigo City, but this time as Eric Scott, and not as the FenrisX. He wasn't sure if he would ever dawn his hero attire again, ever since Valhalla had framed him, it would be practically suicide to go out riding as the crimson avenge avenger. Stepping out onto his porch, he locked the door, before heading to his bike. The cool night air was slightly refreshing, and he welcomed the change.
Moments later, Eric sped away from his country bungalow, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows of the night.
Indigo City
The city was rather quiet tonight, and Eric was thankful for it. He had just wanted to get out, not be surrounded by tons of people. He walked slowly, his head lowered and his hands in the jacket pocket. Anyone passing could tell that the weight of the world was on this stranger's shoulder, and they all would have been right.
I’m a complete idiot. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sydney never spoke to me again, he thought depressively. I just wish I could make things right. I wish I knew what to do.
Culexes followed his target. He had been tracking him, studying him, for five days now. Not enough, not yet, but he was close. Another week, maximum, and the meta would be dead. Unless, that is, an opportunity came along during this reconnaissance.
He kept to the rooftops, leading a crouching run parallel to the target alongside the short wall to stop anybody accidentally falling off. Every now and again Culexes was forced to leap from one building to the next. Neither the large gap nor some five-story drop bothered him. His enhanced physiology could easily handle the jump, and he knew it.
Already, the incident of a week ago had been forgotten in the agent’s mind. He had his mission and that was all. Culexes had devoted himself entirely to his current assignment, as always. Something Daedalus had mentioned in passing came to his mind: ‘focused entirely; mind, body and soul.’ But no, that last couldn’t be included. Mind and body, then.
Culexes had to admit, this was definitely one of the more interesting targets he had trapped down. A former by-the book member of a criminal organisation, a top agent in fact, turned rogue. And now a danger to society. Very interesting. It was odd; the target vaguely reminded Culexes of himself. Top agent, by the book, secret organisation. But of course, he would never turn rogue. What reason did he have? Operation Scorpion was not criminal, it was for the good of mankind. A far nobler calling, and one the agent was not prepared to turn down.
Ever.
Leaping to another building, unframed by the moon in case it gave him away, Culexes watched the target amble along unfocused. He was unarmed, but he didn’t let that fool him. He knew the target was a meta possessed of great telekinetic strength. And yet…the target seemed oblivious to his surroundings. Perhaps, a shot would take him by surprise, so that he would be unable to use his abilities to deflect it. Yes, that might work.
Decided, Culexes began looking for a sniper position. He had authority to execute the target whenever he wanted. That the target was in civilian clothes did not dissuade him in the slightest. But first, he would have to lead him to a less-populated area. An execution here, amongst a fairly busy street, would end in disaster and create far more attention than was necessary. Questions would be asked. That would not do.
After what seemed like hours of walking, Eric finally stopped to sit on a graffitied bench. His mind had been racing far to quickly and he needed to take a second and just breath.
If I could just get some sign of what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. I thought I could help people, but I just seem to screw up everyone’s lives. Eric slouched forward ready to just call it a night when his attention was instantly drawn to the window of the building in front of him.
In the reflection of the glass, was a tall figure dressed all in black. At first it looked like a member of team Inferno, but there was something different. His head was covered behind a grinning skull-helmet. What was most disturbing was that the figure had a sniper rifle pointed straight down, no doubt to where Eric was sitting. Just as the figure pulled the trigger, Eric bolted out the way, avoiding the attempted assassination.
"What the fuck?!" Turning around, he looked up to see the man taking second aim and firing once more. Eric had no time to avoid this shot. Instead, he raised his arm defensively, and concentrated on the bullet. Before reaching its target, the tiny piece of metal death froze in mid air, inches away from his face. Reacting as he had been taught many years before, Eric turned his attention on the gun itself, and with a small gesture, he sent the rifle spiralling away from his adversary.
I better get out of here, I’m not prepared for this, he thought, as he turned and began to run as fast as his legs could carry him. His best option would have been to get back to his bike, but he knew it was far, and chances are he could not get there in time.
Instead, Eric rushed towards the nearest subway entrance. Down the stairs he went, three at a time; the quicker he got underground, the less chance there was the man could sniper him off.
Culexes was not best pleased. Chance and luck, it seemed, had played against him again. The target had been in the perfect location, deserted, and the agent had a perfect shot. But the glass window had betrayed him…from his angle and with his concentration on the target he had not noticed it until it was too late. Either he was getting sloppy, or his encounter with Gravitate had affected him more than he guessed.
Now the target, the meta Eric Scott aka FenrisX, was on the run. Culexes was not prepared to give up and go home. Abandoning his rifle he dropped from the top of the two-story building and landed in a crouch. His legs, pumped up with combat drugs, easily absorbed the shock of the fall. He had seen the target flee to the subway. After radioing in his situation and the position of the sniper rifle, the agent set off in pursuit.
With drug-enhanced speed, Culexes believed he would catch up in no time at all. Bounding down the top flight of steps three at a time, he raced around the corner and jumped down the second flight. Rolling with the impact, he came up behind a pillar near the track. Glancing around to both sides, he saw the platform was empty.
The agent drew the Executioner Pistol slowly and carefully. Keeping the subway entrance/exit in the corner of his eye, Culexes began searching for the meta.
"Hey buddy, you're a little early for Halloween". Culexes instantly spun around, only to be greeted with a punch right to his gut. The man was strong, and on a normal human the hit would have knocked the wind right out of them. But Culexes was no ordinary person. Instead, the punch did little to faze him. The agent responded by blocking the next attack and countering with a vicious backhand to Eric's right temple.
The blow sent Fenris flying to the floor. Its amazing my head is still attached to my neck, he thought through the cloud of dizziness in his head. Looking up at his foe, he was just in time to see that the man had a pistol at the ready. Again, Eric took the figure off guard when he telekinetically through the weapon onto the rails of subway, leaving the black clad assassin unarmed. It wasn't much of a help however. Culexes was only slowed for a second, before he came charging forward; kicking Eric straight in the stomach, as if he was bunting a football in the superbowl.
Ugggg… always with the ribs. Eric scrambled to his feet before Culexes could continue his onslaught. Taking a defensive stance, Fenris managed to block most of his adversary’s next attacks but with great difficulty. Each time he would counter a punch, it felt as if he was trying to stop a sledgehammer from coming down on him.
Finally, he saw an opening in the man's attack, and capitalised on it. Ducking under another crushing punch, Eric brought his own fist up in a vicious uppercut, and adding a little burst of telekinetic energy to it, the hit seemed successful.
Even with all his research, Culexes was shocked by the meta’s powers. Twice his weapon had been knocked from his hand. Now, he staggered back under the telekinetic blow. His helmet locks popped and it flew off, clattering some three feet behind him and eventually coming to a stop up against a graffitied wall.
For the first time in his career with Operation Scorpion, a target had seen Culexes’ face. He remained machine-calm despite this fact, braced in a fighting position. Fenris faced him, also ready.
“Who are you?” The meta demanded.
Culexes thought about not answering, then changed his mind. “I am death. Your death.” He stated.
The agent leapt at his opponent. Caught off guard and off balance, Culexes was able to force Eric back step by step. He was faster, stronger and tougher. After Gravitate, fighting this meta seemed almost too easy. But he didn’t underestimate him. That he had already accidentally done, and it had cost him both weapons and his helmet.
They were both so caught up in fighting they didn’t hear the sound of an approaching train.
Eric was somewhat taken aback by the man's true appearance. He was young, probably younger than he was. He actually looked like an All-American quarterback if it weren’t for this bizarre darkness in the man's eyes. It was like looking into two empty pools of nothingness. A shiver went down Eric's spine as he brought his focus back on keeping himself alive.
Despite all of his talents and training, Eric was no match for this man. Every punch and kick he threw, the man either batted away, or took it as if Eric was no stronger than a tiny infant.
Finally, Culexes, grew tired of exchanging blows. With his drug-induced strength, his wrapped his powerful hand around Fenris' neck, and easily lifted him from the ground. Eric knew that if he didn’t think of something fast, the man would no doubt snap his neck with little diificulty.
Before he could do so however, Eric's mind quickly formulated a plan. By now, the subway was just pulling into the station giving him some hope of escape. Using all his might, Fenris, brought both his arms down on Culexes' wrist, thereby breaking the hold. Before the madman could react, he used his remaining energy to psychically throw his enemy against the wall before he slumped passed the closing doors of the subway car.
Although the meta had escaped him again, Culexes was not prepared to let him go this time. Despite the civilians leaving the subway or watching the two, he knew it would be now or never. If Fenris got away this time, he would go underground. It might be months before the agent could track him down again. The doors began to close.
Calmly, standing sideways onto the doors, Culexes reached around and drew his Heckler&Koch .40cal pistol from the small of his back. Aiming it with a straight arm, the agent ignored people’s screams as he fired. The bullet shattered the glass, which fell like the tears of angels. It was a dead-on straight at near point blank range. There was no chance of missing.
FenrisX collapsed.
The train moved off before Culexes could check he was dead, but there was no need. From past experience, he knew there was no way the meta could have stopped the bullet in time. Holstering the gun, he retrieved his helmet. Demios was repeatedly asking for updates. He gave it to him as he left the station.
“Culexes reporting. Target FenrisX eliminated. No collateral damage, but civilian involvement. Body is on a subway train, leaving from station…”
Once the train was sufficiently far from the station, Eric opened his eyes, and stood up. Reaching down, he extracted the tiny bullet from his chest. Thank God. His plan had worked perfectly. Just as the bullet had hit, Eric had stopped it. To Culexes it had seemed like Eric was dead, but in reality, the bullet only made its way a mm into his skin.
I just hope he thinks I’m dead, he thought as he slouched into the corner seat. Eric had no wish to go up against him again, the next time, it might not end so well.
Several minutes later, Eric stumbled out of the subway and back up to the streets, which was now being drenched in rain. "Awww, great," he said allowed, realising his bike was probably an hour away on foot.
His trek back however, was cut short, when a long stretch limo pulled up along side him.
"Hello Eric," a female voice said as the window rolled down. "It seems like you need a lift".
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Sanity Plea”
May 25th, 2003
3:23 AM
New Jersey Hospital for the Mentally Unbalanced
The dark, dank halls of the Asylum were silent. Not a sound could be heard, except for the slight breathing of the night guards. This was the violent ward, and no patient had ever escaped. The Hospital had been founded years ago, and had constantly been updated with new security measures for its violent patients. The name Hospital was just a pleasant sounding name for a nut house. People objected to anything that sounded bad. It didn’t matter how bad it actually was, as long as they could say “Oh she’s in the hospital”.
Not to imply that the hospital was a Hell. Nothing of the sort. It could have been much worse. The food wasn’t bad, and the patients weren’t treated all that badly. Still, one could feel a deep sense of dread spread over them when they entered the hospital, specifically near Ward F, a.k.a. the violent ward.
And it was this Ward F that Harry Cobblestone, a.k.a. Dream Weaver, had been placed. After his arrest in Crystal City, after the affair with the Weapon, he had been given a psychological evaluation. Dream Weaver was used to these, as he had grown up with Schizophrenia. He had beaten the illness, but in fact hadn’t wanted to. Why should he have to give up his friends in his head, or stop seeing things that a regular human could only imagine? But he hadn’t had much of a choice. But when he had learned that he had a special ability, yet another thing that set him apart… well that was when the fun had started.
As the years progressed he found the wonder of looking into people’s dreams and seeing what made them tick. A dream, he learned, was the real doorway to the soul. Inside he found hidden desires, great fears, and secrets locked away in little boxes. They all had secrets.
Seer had been having terrible dreams concerning his brother.
Chameleon had a secret hatred for Lucius… a hate only rivaled by her love of him.
Kenetico was furious at being considered the youngest.
Projector was uninteresting. Simple greed usually is.
Behind her angelic façade, Serenity was bubbling with undeserved insecurities. She ran as far as she could but she never really escaped her brother.
Luscious Blackwall was particularly fun. His mind was constantly tilting on the brink of insanity… just waiting for that one thing that would push him over the edge. Dream Weaver imagined that Spectrum and Psyspell had done just that. But then again, he had been too focused on the Weapon’s dreams and he had stopped looking at Luscious’.
And now at the hospital, where Mr. Blackwall had also been sent although he heard that he was getting out soon, he had been able to look at so many more dreams. The doctors had performed a lobotomy on him; his brain couldn’t be trusted. They thought that by removing his brain they would stop his ability to use it as a weapon. Fools.
And they had kept him in the violent ward just the same. He was a vegetable now. He couldn’t move his body except for involuntary movements but it hardly mattered. They kept him in a special room but he didn’t need to move. His powers had… grown somehow. Perhaps now that the brain didn’t have to function on the body, he concentrated it all on his powers. He was… much more powerful than he ever had been.
He had perfected the art of mentally sneaking into people’s dreams. He could creep into somebody’s dream now without ever being noticed. He found it particularly fun to creep into the doctor’s dreams when the fell asleep on the job, or if they took a nap on their breaks.
Nurse Nancy Anchor was pregnant and unmarried. She was considering getting an abortion.
Dr. Mark Smith had a great gambling problem and was deep in debt.
Dr. Charlotte Tompkins was falling in love with a neighborhood boy, despite the fact that he was only 16.
And Dream Weaver’s favorite was the sad case of one of the guards; Mr. Henry Wrench. He was married and had two wonderful kids. He was also a closet homosexual who had contracted HIV from a man he met online. Now he not only had to come out to his wife, but also had to tell her he was dying and there was a good chance she had contracted the virus as well.
Dream Weaver found the whole situation delicious. They were all so wrapped up in their own problems they couldn’t see that the people right next to them were suffering as well.
***
8:30 AM
Ward A
Dr. Claire Amberlyn strode into Ward A with her head held high and a smile on her face. She was wearing all white, as was customary and had a look upon her that no matter what came across her path, she could beat it. She inspired the others.
“Oh, good morning Dr.!” Nurse Anchor smiled. She quickly hit the ‘X’ on the window on her computer, and the screen which had portrayed information about an abortion center quickly disappeared. Dr. Amberlyn wouldn’t want to deal with her problems after all.
“Good morning Nancy!” Dr. Amberlyn smiled back. “How are you today?”
“I’m fine!” Nancy smiled. Dr. Amberlyn had such an infectious smile. Inside, Nancy sighed. Why couldn’t her life be as perfect as Dr. Amberlyn’s?
“Good, good.” Claire marched across the room to her office door and swung it open, smiling at the cleanliness and order that greeted her. “I’m not seeing any patients until later today, so if there’s any emergency I’ll be in my office.” Nurse Anchor smiled, and Dr. Amberlyn closed the door behind her.
Her office was, much like herself, perfect. Not a scratch or stain anywhere. Her books were all lined up on her bookshelf in order of subject. Her glass coffee table was spotless. Claire walked over and slowly sat down in her wheeled chair, brushing back her long blond hair. She turned on her computer to check her mail.
There was only a single E-mail. It was from her fiancée, just writing to tell her how wonderful she was in every way. Dr. Amberlyn’s smile grew. She turned to look down at her desk and then frowned for the first time that day. Her schedule wasn’t there. She reached over and pressed an intercom button.
“Nancy, do you have my schedule?” Dr. Amberlyn said in a slightly annoyed voice. On the other end, Nancy gasped and sifted through the heap of papers on her desk to find the schedule. She jumped up and ran into Claire’s office.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Dr. Amberlyn.” Nancy breathed, “I just had a lot on my mind this morning and I just forgot!”
Claire smiled her greatest smile, and said, “Well don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”
Nancy smiled but was crushed. She had displeased Dr. Amberlyn. She was such an idiot. Dr. Amberlyn did nothing wrong, only she did. She couldn’t even practice safe sex apparently, or she wouldn’t be in this situation. Nurse Anchor slowly backed out of the room, trying hard not to lose her smile.
Dr. Amberlyn glanced down at her schedule. She read it, and her smile faltered slightly. The first on the list was “Harry Cobblestone”. Damn. He was a vegetable but she still had to see him. She had to make sure he was alright. Damn. Of all her patients, he was the only one who scared her slightly. She didn’t enjoy being scared, surprises or disorder, and to her the man formerly known as Dream Weaver represented all of that.
***
Hospital parking lot
12:32PM
The figure carefully walked across the Hospital parking lot. The figure found Dr. Amberlyn’s golden BMW and took out the keys she had stolen from Dr. Amberlyn’s office. The figure opened the car, got in and turned it on.
When the figure had driven the car to a nearby bridge, the figure put it in neutral and got out. It wasn’t too hard to push the car in.
The figure walked back and placed the key back where they had come from.
***
Ward A
9:55PM
Dr. Amberlyn sighed. Finally, it was time for her to go home. It had been a long day. It had started off rotten with her visit to that potato Cobblestone, and hadn’t gotten much better.
Claire marched through the parking lot to her parking spot. She got out her keys and went to open her car. But it wasn’t here. Claire arched her eyebrow in slight annoyance. Had… she parked in the wrong spot? She turned around and looked but didn’t see the familiar golden shine her car normally gave in the moonlight.
Dr. Amberlyn was now unhappy. But, when she walked inside, she put on a cheerful smile.
***
Dr. Amberlyn’s office
11:30 PM
She simply could not believe it. Not a single person had been able to drive her home. She had reported her car stolen, but it would not be found soon if ever at all, she knew. And nobody had offered to take her home? And the people she had asked… none of them were going her day? Coincidence?
Of course it was. What other explanation could there be?
So here she lay, on the couch in her office, a white blanket over her. It could be worse, she reminded herself, but it didn’t bring much comfort. Still, she turned on her side, and eventually she fell asleep.
***
The trap had been set. He would see what made Dr. Claire Amberlyn tick.
***
Claire woke up with a start. She had been having the strangest dream… something about the mud and the color red. She looked around groggily until the shock hit her.
*Where the hell am I?* She looked around. No, she knew where she was, but she couldn’t possibly actually be there, could she? Her old room, in her parents old house in Rhode Island? It looked exactly the same as it had when she had left it, before her parents had died. But how could she possible be there?
Claire got up and felt the bed, then a wall, then a picture of a rose than hung on her wall. It all… felt real. But how could that be?
Just then, her white door swung open against the pink paint of her room. Claire gasped, as her deceased mother walked in wearing a blue top and a smile on her face. “Sleep well?” Julia Amberlyn asked.
“Mother?” Claire gasped and reached out.
“Breakfast is on the table, hon, when you’re ready.” Her mother smiled and left. Claire looked down. She… looked her age. She wasn’t the young girl she was when she lived in this room. Had she somehow… died and gone… to Rhode Island?
Claire left the room and gasped at the déjà vu that hit her like a train wreck. Everything was exactly the same. The light wallpaper. The bathroom, to her left, the stairs right in front of her. It was all exactly the same.
Tentatively, Claire walked downstairs and easily turned right into the dining room. A single tear came to her eye. Two hands holding a newspaper was right before her. The two hands pushed the newspaper down, and the loving face of her father appeared. Robert Amberlyn smiled and exclaimed, “Hey Princess! Sleep well?”
“Uh… yes.” Claire said without thinking. A state of shock had taken over her… she almost couldn’t even object to the complete insanity that the whole scene represented. Had she lost her mind?
“Sit down dear.” Julia said coming back into the room carrying a large stack of pancakes for all. Claire obeyed, and her mother put a single pancake on her plate. “Eat up dear! You don’t want your brother Jamie to eat them all do you?”
“Jamie?” Claire said in a monotone voice, and turned to her right. A pacesetting was set there, but nobody set in the chair. Instead, a large portrait of her late brother Jamie sat there.
Claire jumped up. This was not right. Not right at all. “Who are you?” she cried at the people who looked like her parents. “Where am I?”
Julia and Robert just looked at her. “Well you’re at home darling.” Her mother said sweetly. “Where else would you be?”
“This… can’t be right?” Claire said. She put a hand to her forehead as if expecting a fever. In a desperate need of Sanity, she backed up and ran back upstairs. Her room. She had always gone to her room when she needed to feel safe. Something about her room had just…
Claire flew open the door, and cried out. A happy little family had been painted onto her pink wall. A father, mother and daughter all smiled happily at her. Next to the daughter, a sad little boy stood. Claire glared around and saw markings were all over her room in red.
The blood dripped down the walls from where it had been painted on. Her room was bleeding. Somebody had drawn in her room in blood. Claire collapsed and passed out.
She awoke in a weapon. The sky was a red twilight. She lifted herself off the ground a brushed herself off. In front of her there was a rope. The rope led across the meadow like a path. It was dripping with a red liquid that Claire suspected with disgust was blood. With few other choices, Claire followed the rope with a growing sense of dread. This place was so familiar but where from…
A train track lay in front of her. Before it were two people. The first was a little blond girl. She couldn’t see the person behind it, but it sounded like a young boy.
“What are you doing?” The little boy asked.
“We’re just playing a game.” The girl answered quickly.
*What were you doing?* a mysterious voice said from above Claire.
“I don’t like this! This rope is hurting me!” the boy shouted.
“Just shut up! You won’t be hurting for long!” the girl answered.
*Deeper* the mysterious voice said from above her. *Dig deeper into your mind*
“But the train will be coming soon.” The boy cried.
“… I know that.” The girl clenched her fists. She went to speak again, but instead of her, Claire became shouted her words. “You shouted have messed up my room! My room was so perfect! Why do you always have to mess everything up?”
The blond girl backed up from the train tracks. Claire didn’t look up.
“You always got your way!” Claire cried, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “I was their princess until you came along! Why did you have to do that?” Claire glanced up. Her sanity was lost then.
The dripping corpse of her brother lay tired to the train tracks, rotting in the noon day sun. In the distance she could the train coming.
*Claire you naughty girl* the mysterious voice said.
“He shouldn’t have messed up my room!” Claire screamed at the voice.
*You know what you must do. It’s the only way to make up for what you’ve done.*
As the train came around, Claire woke up.
***
Dr. Amberlyn’s office
May 26th 2003
9:10 AM
Nurse Nancy Anchor strode through Ward A. She had just learned what had happened to Dr. Amberlyn last night. How her car had been stolen. But it hadn’t been stolen. Nancy had pushed it into the river. She didn’t know why, but she knew she had done it.
“Dr. Amberlyn?” Nancy cried. The second she entered the office she knew something was wrong. The computer monitor was on and facing towards the door. There was some sort of document or message on the screen. Not being able to help herself, she moved closer and read it.
I AM WRITING THIS AS MY LAST WORDS. I HAVE NO CHOICE. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY. JAMIE WILL BE WAITING FOR ME. THE TRUTH HAS TO BE KNOWN, HOWEVER.
WHEN I WAS 13 MY BROTHER WAS KILLED. MY MOTHER WAS THOUGHT THE ONE GUILTY. SHE WAS MENTALLY UNBALANCED AND HAD OFTEN SAID SHE WANTED TO KILL ME, BUT ESPECIALLY JAMIE. WHEN HIS BODY WAS FOUND TIED TO THE RAILROAD TRACKS, SHE WAS ARRESTED AND FOUND GUILTY OF MURDER.
MY FATHER KILLED HIMSELF LATER THAT YEAR.
MY MOTHER WAS INNOCENT. JAMIE DID NOT DESERVE TO LIVE. I TIED HIM TO THE TRACKS AND LET HIM GET HIT BY THAT TRAIN. MY MOTHER ALSO DESERVED TO DIE. I LET THEM KILL HER. I TESTIFIED AGAINST HER. I GAVE MY FATHER THE GUN TO KILL HIMSELF.
NONE OF THEM DESERVED TO LIVE.
THEY WEREN’T PERFECT.
Nancy Anchor didn’t believe what she was reading at first. Claire Amberlyn… this… could not be hers. She couldn’t have written this. Claire wouldn’t do something like this. She knew Claire. She always had everything in order. She couldn’t commit murder and let others die.
But then Nancy felt something noticed a strange red stain on the carpet next to the desk. *That’s odd. Claire is usually so neat*. Nancy walked around and looked over the desk.
Her scream was heard all over the hospital.
***
Dream Weaver, the vegetable, had all the time in the world to think. The perfect Dr. Amberlyn was no so perfect after all. Or maybe she was… and that was the problem. She couldn’t handle that her family wasn’t perfect enough so she killed them all. More or less.
All the secrets people hid from the world… finding them out was half the fun. Dr. Amberlyn had killed herself as her final punishment. She finally realized she wasn’t perfect, and that would never do.
Another power Dream Weaver had gained with the power of influence. Subliminal messages… post hypnotic suggestions… whatever they were they were working. He was able to implant ideas in a persons mind, therefore manipulating them a little even when they were awake. That’s how he had gotten Nancy Anchor to drive Dr. Amberlyn’s car over the bridge.
And if he knew Nancy, which he thought he did, she might be throwing herself over the bridge right now. Baby and all.
All these people running around so worried about their own problems that they never realize that the people right next to them have problems to. They never talk to each other. Keep everything inside and let’s hope it goes away.
All it takes is a little dream to bring it all out again.
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
Leonid’s Office - Mutantgrad
Monday the 19th May, 2003
15:46Local
Leonid Ustrashkin needled his temples tiredly as he sat quietly at his desk, flooded with multiple papers of ballots, inventories, files, applications and all other forms of tiring, mind killing jobs that often led the man to troublesome headaches. He often found himself settling down to a warming glass of vodka on the rocks he kept chilled in the blistering ice that cloaked Mutantgrad in one continuous winter that would forever last throughout the remaining years of the Earth’s lifespan. It’s positioning in the middle of Siberia didn’t help and Leonid loathed the cold. Most people grew accustomed to the climate they lived in, but not Leonid. Leonid’s passion for hatred of the cold nearly matched that of his hatred towards the Giftless. After all; it was they who had exiled him and his kin to the wretched place.
*One day…. * He promised himself.
One day he would proudly claim the reigns of Mutantgrad off the incompetent coward, Vrushka, and steer it towards its rightful glory.
A querying knock sounded from his door. At first, Leonid ignored it… then it sounded again, this time with more demand.
“Yes, what is it?” He asked irritably. Picking up a pen, he dipped it into an old fashion ink well he admired for its untimely grace, then started signing off some papers in front of him while his office door opened, admitting a finely built man in his pique form by the name of Dashkon Zibarev.
He was Leonid’s envoy, and one of his most trusted at that! Another meta that intrigued Leonid; he had the ability to change his body temperature to even the greatest extremes. The only one thing that uneased him about the man, was his friendship with a particular outland meta that Leonid, himself, had taken a personal interest in, too.
“Sir,” Dashkon started out formally, “I was wondering, at all, if you’d gotten around to the citizenship forms yet? Applicants have been kept waiting for months on end now.”
“Any applicants in particular, Mr. Zibarev?” Leonid said, keeping his attention on the papers before him.
Dashkon sighed. This wasn’t the first time Leonid had questioned him with full intent of making him feel guilty for something that he need not feel guilty for: such as who he made friends with! “I don’t know all the applicants individually, but yes, I am aware of one such one. Ms. Sander’s; she’s been waiting for some time now.”
Leonid held out a piece of paper without even sparing a glance at the man he handed it to, “Well, I hope this satisfies her.”
Dashkon took a brief glance at the slip of paper and the words imprinted on it. He could feel a knot tighten in his chest. He half regretted ever asking, now.
Leonid paused in his scribbling and slowly raised his eyes to meet the other man’s squarely, “Well? Are you going to deliver it, or just stand there all day in my light, making it even colder than it necessarily be in my office?”
Dashkon’s mouth tightened at his superior’s words. However, without further question, he stomped his feet firmly together and offered a small bow before turning purposefully on his heels to stride confidently out of the room.
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Die fröhilke Wissenschaft - Part II”
Monday, June 2, 2003
noon
Eddy sipped his cup of hot coffee, wondering about the prisoner in the back of the armoured car to be moved under such great protection and secrecy. Though he was a federal marshal, he was being largely kept in the dark about this by the woman from the CIA driving the car. “You know, I really have to wonder about this guy we’re transporting,” he said. “What the hell makes him so dangerous?”
“I really don’t know,” Tony replied, focusing on her driving. Her knowledge of what happened was even less: they received a fax ordering the prisoner, Dr. Avery Wyatt, transferred from Wyoming to a more secure facility. Then she’d received her orders to meet with Eddy for the transport.
“Ah, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, bringing the car to a halt. Barricades were being set up along the road. It looked like… damnit, why did Hollywood pick this time? There was a man in a suit, obviously part of a production team, coming up to the car.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said. “We have to close the road temporarily, city gave permission to use it for a film. We’re detouring everyone.”
“Just great,” she sighed, thinking for a minute before turning back. “Alright, where do we go?” she asked, listening to the directions. It was a small road, more deserted than even this road. Nobody would ever notice them as they sped off.
Lash sat at the ready, determined behind the wheel of the car as herself and William waited patiently for the van to appear around the off-road, dirt track bend. The sun was high over the land at noon, and Lash hoped that the positioning of the car’s windshield would reflect to blind the security, rather than give their position away.
*Not that it really matters, in the end. * Lash smirked as she mentally reminded herself, glancing briefly over to William in the passenger seat. “It’s a great day for off-road driving. Wouldn’t you agree?” When he’d turned up on her doorstep in Mutantgrad a couple of days prior, he hadn’t even breathed any mention of a job before Lash was already off and packing, eager to leave.
William sat patiently in his leather jacket, a ski mask resting on the top of his head. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You never take anything seriously, do you?” he asked, knowing what the answer would be.
“Yep!” she said proving him wrong, and still joking. “Money.” Which was a minor joke, considering she took Mutantgrad and the society there very seriously indeed.
Time seemed to pass slowly when finally, the van appeared around the corner. With nobody else present, he hoped the set up was complete. They would, with luck, never know who hit them. “Ready?” he asked, Lash only smirking at him. William picked up a controller, punching in a code as he watched the truck move.
“I can’t believe this,” Eddy was saying. “They had to pick today of all days to film that scene?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tony replied. “Nobody know about this transport. What, you think someone is going to come out of nowhere and hijack us?” Which was when the explosion happened, and a tire dropped into a pothole.
“Holy shit!” Tony yelled, slamming on the breaks and hoping she could keep control. A flash of sunlight caught her eyes, and other tires screeched. Eddy was already opening the door with his gun drawn as the black car came down in front of them, passenger door open.
A man was leaning out as it turned. Two shots were fired, and Eddy dropped to the ground before the man who was wearing a ski mask aimed at her. She kept her hands on the steering wheel. The man walked over towards him, while a second person got out and went to check on Eddy.
Tony’s training failed her and she froze, having watched Eddy so casually shot. How had they known? It seemed too coincidental. The man in the ski mask was over by her side. “Hands in the air, and on the ground,” he commanded. “Do it now, and you won’t get hurt.” She couldn’t see any option but to obey.
Lash pulled the car up to a scraping halt on the uneven track and jumped out of the drivers side door, staring incredulously at William, *He just shot him! * She suddenly felt exposed, praying her tail didn’t peek out from beneath her trench coat as she made her way over to the remaining Security guard. The woman was shivering in terror, fearing for her life and that of her colleague.
*I’ll take that! * Lash thought as she removed, subtly absorbing the woman’s gun with the slightest of hand. She took the moment to glance over the guards shoulder to make sure the man was still breathing, before darting off to the back of the van. *I can’t believe it…. * She continued to shake her head, feeling disgusted and sick at her friends display, but continued with her job. There was no turning back now.
Flexing her fingers, Lash merged them into the lock that secured the vans rear doors. In less than an instant it submitted to her manipulation of its simple mechanics, clicking open, and she let it drop to the ground as she flung open the doors.
Dr. Avery Wyatt had been bounced around the back of the van, wondering what was going on at the sudden movement. What was going on? Part of him wondered if Sydney had managed to return for him. The sound of gunshots outside told him that something was going on. Light flooded the back of the van as the doors opened, and someone in a trench coat was ushering the old man out and towards a waiting vehicle.
He noticed someone in a ski mask holding a gun on the woman, heard the noise the man was making - still alive, but in pain. Everything was happening too fast for him to register while he was ushered into the back of the waiting car, the two rescuers jumping in before speeding off.
“Who…?” he asked, noticing that the back doors had been altered to be unopenable from the inside. “Who are you people?”
Lash chucked the car into reverse, tires skidding on the hard packed dirt raising a cloud of dust behind them before they tore off into the bush. She kept her concentration on the road, making sure they didn’t slam into a tree and ultimately making the whole rescue a redundant waste of time.
Ignoring the man’s request for answers in the back seat, Lash darted a brief, icy stare of disapproval at William before turning her attention back to the winding road.
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Die fröhilke Wissenschaft – Part III”
Tuesday, June 3, 2003
Old Benson Laboratory in Utah
3:17pm
Dr. Avery Wyatt had found scant conversation from his two would-be rescuers, except cryptic assurances from the bald man that they were friends. Or at the very least, that they were acting on the orders of someone who could be of great help to him. Still, his time in holding left him with a slightly humbled look about him.
They hardly stopped to rest, apparently sleeping in shifts as they had driven to their destination. Wyatt was never left alone, and the cat-like Meta spent the trip giving the bald man the silent treatment. Both had checked on him a couple of times, and then when they arrived it had been clear.
The place was an old laboratory owned by Benson Pharmaceuticals, recently closed as he recalled but far from prying eyes. If they decided to do something to him here, nobody would ever know. Things seemed to have been prepared well, including an office having been converted into a bedroom for him.
Dr. Wyatt was presently looking around the bedroom. He had a bed, desk, chair, overhead lamp and fan. That much was obvious. There was a phone in the room which may or may not have been connected, and a computer sat at the desk turned on. Checking the computer revealed that it at least could access other machines in the facility, though for some reason it couldn’t get out. And a singe security camera in the room looked straight at him.
Wyatt jumped at the sound of a voice, trying to figure out where it came from before he noted the phone. The speaker light was on. “I apologise for the accommodations,” the voice said, sounding hardly apologetic at all. More with an edge of power to it. “Still, it is preferable to a CIA holding cell, isn’t it?”
“Who are you?” the old man asked, genuinely curious. Something told him that he was now speaking to the person who had arranged everything: the transfer, the rescue, being brought here. This would not be a man to slight. “More importantly, what do you want?”
“Please, look at the computer,” the voice said. Confused, he turned slowly to look at the computer… and found that it had apparently found an internet connection. Someone was taking control of it remotely. His eyes widened as he saw what was being displayed. “You recognise the work, Dr?” asked the voice.
“Oh yes,” he said, a bit of pride and shame in his voice. He recognised the work, all right. It was some of his work. Cybernetic implants; the simulation of parts of the human body. Still other things that parts were displayed of was work he’d only heard of. “I don’t understand. How did you get this?” Nobody should have been able to, the data was all stored on an independent system.
“Mr Kale was kind enough to share,” explained the voice, and Wyatt tensed inside. Kale. He felt worry raise at the mention of the name, for Ford and Sydney. He still thought of them as his children, and they were in a way. Had this person given up Sydney in exchange for the data?
Wyatt was broken out of his wonder by the voice returning, and new images. “Oh god,” he said, looking at the screen with worry rising up. A news report with Sydney in it, propelling her way down a building. He had failed her; despite his best efforts, Kale had found her.
A female voice from the phone broke the silence, as he tried to place the accent. She sounded far more pleasant and reasonable than the other voice. “I woundn’t worry, Dr Wyatt,” she said, terminating the feed. “Ms. King was able to escape, and he currently believes she’s somewhere in Pennsylvania.”
“A splendid forgery of data, if I do say so myself,” came the male voice.
There was momentary silence, as though words were being exchanged. Telepaths? Or had they simply muted the call to talk in private? The female voice returned, as Wyatt turned away from the screen to listen. “Are you familiar with the WAIT incident at all, Dr. Wyatt?” asked the female voice.
Wyatt laughed out loud. “Of course I am. I doubt very much that anyone in cybernetics is unfamiliar with Morgan’s attempt to get them kicked out of the country.” Along with CHASE, that was probably one of the two most well-known incidents dealing with Artificial Intelligences.
A news report came on, talking about the end of the standoff with Zyrcom. How WAIT officials had determined that the Modular Artificial Intelligence was destroyed. “Funny, how easily fooled they were,” the male voice remarked. “All I needed to do was fragment myself.”
Wyatt turned away from the machine to look at the phone in wonder, as that sentence replayed in his head. All I needed to do was fragment myself. Curiosity got the best of him. That particular project really hadn’t ended, and apparently the AI – or AIs – had language synthesis. “And now you need my help,” he said, seeing where this conversation was going. “How many of you are there?”
“Two,” answered the female voice.
Then the male voice returned. “We have something of a proposition for you, Doctor. It is within my power to confuse Kale’s hunt Sydney, perhaps even to reunite the two of you.”
Wyatt was not a fool. He could see the opportunity to protect the woman he thought of like a daughter, but knew that there would be a pricetag attached. There had to be. “And what do you want in return?” New data appeared on the screen – schematics. Avery Wyatt understood, and knew it would be a challenge, but one he could handle. “And what do you intended to do with these?” he asked.
“We intend to survive,” intoned the male voice, a bit of annoyance creeping into it. “I’m offering you a simple choice: a little work for misdirecting Kale. Let me ask you something, doctor. If I can hide Sydney from Kale, what else does that tell you?”
A frown slowly spread across his face as he considered the possibilities. He knew enough to conceal her, and had the power to. “You can lead him to her,” he said. Sighing heavily, he knew that he had no choice if he wanted to keep her safe. “Alright. What do you want me to do?”
****MEANWHILE****
Lash lay on her stomach on one of the lounges couches, her chin cupped in the fists created by her hands on its arm. She stared blandly ahead, refusing to look at the Fixer as he stood in the not to far off distance, *Probably stroking his gun or something. I can’t believe he would do that. * she kept thinking over and over to herself, worry now creasing her forehead at what else she mightn’t know about her friend.
If there was one thing that William hated, it was the waiting in limbo for the next set of orders. Still, there could be worse places than here to be waiting, he figured. At least the water still worked to the building.
Taking a sip from a cup of water, he noticed Lash’s expression and figured it was best to say something.
William walked over to a reclining chair near where she was laying, and sat down. “Ok, Lash. What’s wrong?”
Lash sniffed in reply, flashing a brief icy glare that spoke waves of disappointment, before settling her gaze back to the far wall.
William frowned at the scowl, before finding his voice again. "What the hell did I do? If you're going to be mad, I want to know why."
Rolling her eyes, Lash shook her head, chuckling wryly deep in her throat as she turned her head to face her friend, *He can’t be serious. Gees! I wonder what I could be upset about, William! * “Perhaps you should think long and hard then, Fixer. Because if you don’t know, then I don’t think anything I say would make a difference!” She made emphasis on his name and continued to lay there, eyebrow quirked, waiting expectantly for a reply.
*When did we become a couple?* William wondered, thinking that she looked like nothing if not the stereotype of the pissed off girlfriend. Stern disapproval to be certain, ever since they had picked up Wyatt and he… something clicked.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he said probably a bit more forcefully than he should. His voice lowered next. “I’m combat precognitive, remember? Either he got shot or one of us got shot.”
No doubt William could hear the warning growl rumbling in Lash’s throat. Even with his enhanced instincts, it didn’t save him much when Lash had suddenly gone from laying off-guard on the couch to upright and in his face, pushing him backwards with an accusing finger poking him in the chest as she raised her voice back, “You could have killed him! Here…” She shoved him back, clear of her while holding onto his hand. Producing the security woman’s gun, she slammed it into his palm, “I’m sure you must be running out of bullets, so why don’t you have this. I have no use for it.”
William tossed the gun onto a table while looking at Lash in wonder. Never, never, had she made an outburst quite like this at him before. Not even when they were rendering Fenris unconscious, or when she had faced the woman in the Valhalla complex they were holding the former agent.
“You’re right, I could have killed him,” William said. “He could have killed us as well. We’re not talking about executing an unarmed man, but combat with an armed Federal agent!”
Lash stopped in her tracks, hand flying up over her mouth in mock shock, “Oh! He was a Federal agent? Silly me,” she chuckled lightly, William’s eyes suddenly widening in his own literal shock just seconds before her open hand slapped hard across his face. “That makes it alright then!” she yelled venomously.
William did not have time to move for one simply reason. Despite his precognitive abilities, he really did not believe that Lash would actually slap him. He looked at her in wide-eyed surprise. The two stood there fuming at one another for several minutes before he finally broke the silence. “Lash, listen to me,” he said. “I know you don’t like it, but there comes a time when you have no choice in this kind of thing. I’m sorry it came to that, and I upset you. But quite frankly, if I had to choose between shooting him and him possibly shooting you, I’d rather shoot him.”
Lash’s fists were balled up so tightly that her nails had dug into her palms, drawing the slightest hint of blood. *Men. Such ass kissers! * “Fine!” She cooed: a sound that seemed rather odd coming from the stance of her body language. Though things were definitely not fine, and she made sure William was aware of that, she sharply whirled about and strode back to the couch.
*He actually couldn’t see the alternatives that were plain and obvious, right there in front of him? Oh no. It’s all crashing in, guns blazing and getting Federal agents shot in the ass! Why prove you have a brain, when clearly you have balls! * Lash mentally grumbled to herself.
“I have to get over it sometime! Why not now? It’s not exactly like it’s that big a deal after all, right?” She hissed. Eventually she’d forgive him for it. He was her friend after all, and a good one at that!
William knew something was obviously wrong, she didn’t like the fact that for once he’d actually shot someone. Even though she was more than willing to work on jobs like the capture of Fenris, apparently death was too much.
Something occurred to him: Observer did not tell him why they wanted Avery Wyatt.
For all he knew, this could end with the doctor’s death. Particularly if he refused to cooperate.
And if Lash was pissed at shooting someone in the middle of battle, how would she take an order to execute someone?
At once, he made a decision. It might cost him her friendship if she traced everything back. Might even cost him his life if word that he was the source got out. But… well, it was right. She deserved to know. William lowered his voice so that nobody would hear, even if someone was present. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, rubbing his jaw in deep thought. “I was going to wait until this was over, but….”
Lash was in the middle of re-settling herself onto the couch when the strange tone coming from William paused her actions, subtly pricking back her ears to carefully pick up what he had to say.
She couldn’t openly soften her mood for him now, just because he decided to try different tactics! She was a woman of purpose; and one who had a point that required being made.
So instead, staring distantly through and beyond the upholstery, William was granted a nice view of her unforgiving back to address his issues.
Having started, William decided that he could not very well stop. He owed her at least a little bit of closure about what had really happened when she became an orphan. True, he had nothing to do with that, and Feldman didn’t even own the company in question, but…
“I’m sometimes get paid in information,” he said softly. “I… know things of the sort that people don’t usually talk about, and have found out something. Lash… it’s about your parents-“
Almost involuntary, Lash’s head twitched partially around at the sudden mention of her parents. Partly because it was something she held so close and deep inside of her, that it rarely ever surfaced, and she’d learnt to cope by moving on and surviving…. But why was William privileged to such information that even she was hazy on? How did it affect him?
Suppressing her rising doubts, Lash rocked her head back enough that the edge of her eye could be spotted.
“What?”
William swallowed hard. It was out now, no two ways about it. He couldn’t stop without raising even more suspicions than he probably just did. “It’s not much, just a newspaper article a friend showed me. They reprinted a speech of a rabble rouser against Metas. He said something about living in this very town was a girl able to enter solid objects and had a cat-like appearance.”
He sighed. “It’s not much, but it is a possible lead.”
Lash’s frown snapped down into a scowl, a low growl threatening to erupt rumbled from her still form that somehow managed to stiffen on top of what it already had. The hairs prickled on the back of her neck, she was about ready to live up to her name, only her will kept her from striking her friend again, *What did that have to do with my parents…. *
“Don’t ever mention them again,” she warned, teeth gritted in pain, “Never toy with me , or I’m sorry to say: I’ll make sure you rue that day your mother first lay eyes on your father.”
“I’m not toying with you,” he replied forcefully, though admiring the threat. Lash really did know how to turn a phrase when she wanted to. “Think, Lash, about the way you look. That time you pranked me by hiding in the door.” That was another of her better pranks, and had damn near given him a heart attack. And of course, because she didn’t intend harm, he had no warning at all. None whatsoever. “On a hunch, I put a hacker friend to work. Guess what he found? An older story, local paper about an odd birth. A meta with the appearance and power but maybe, just maybe she’s you.”
He paused for a moment, dropping his voice back down again. Reaching in his jacket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper which he handed to Lash. “That’s a printout from employee files my friend was able to hack.”
Lash’s fury slowly subsided as the small image flittered down, settling just in front of her vision against the support of the couches back. Her eyes filtered across the low resolution, four colour output picture, studying the two figures that stood close side by side. They were smiling… happy. The few scant memories that Lash still possessed of her parents slowly seeped out of their confinement within her mind.
Subconsciously, she found her arm snaking the length of her body till she was able to trace her fingers lightly over the faces in the photograph. Her eyes steadily glazing over till the mists intensity had obscured her sight and identity of her parents beyond recognition.
This was the first image she’d seen of her parents since the burning house that would only exist now, in her nightmares.
Anger suddenly flared like a haystack doused in kerosene; and without warning or threat of harm, William was sent stumbling backwards as Lash’s tightly restrained body snapped up from its lax position like a sprung mouse trap, screaming at William to stay out of her life’s past.
William barely managed to duck in time before he was struck by her baleful tail as it whipped harshly around, following her as she whisked swiftly across the floor, till the nearest wall concealed her presence.
Why, William wondered, did he even bother? It was because he cared for her, that’s why. That was the same reason he’d convinced his superiors to leave her alone, but part of him was worried.
“Lash,” he said looking around at the various walls. She might be gone, or could still be there watching him. Instinct said she was still around.
“You told me once long ago that you wanted answers,” he said aloud, his voice carrying to hopefully where she was hiding. “I’m your friend! That means I’m supposed to help you! Isn’t that what you said when you pulled me out of that flaming wreck in Mutantgrad? ‘Friends don’t need to ask each other for help.’
“If you don’t want me there with you, fine. All I did was find the place where you need to go. You want answers, Lash? All you need to do is ask.”
Opting to stay quiet and hidden within the walls, Lash mentally studied the dematerialised note she’d carried with her. It was there, and it wasn’t. So long as Lash kept hold of it, it would stay, in a way, apart of her until she let it go.
Silence clung to the air like a wafting breeze over a newly calmed ocean after a long and stormy night. It seemed to stretch on forever, leaving William abandoned within the deafening abyss, till without warning or hint that he was still amongst company, a single solitary word pulsed softly off the walls; barely audible.
“Fine.”
William stumbled backwards in surprise, successfully landing in the chair in an awkward position. It was just like Lash to wait until she could do something like that. Even expecting that as a possibility and being used to it did not mean that it still could not be surprising. "Anscombe Genetics. It's a company in Crystal City that no longer exists. I think Lori Grant bought it." Or at least part of the company.
*Lori Grant....* Lash mused silently to herself, turning the name over and over again in her head as though testing a fine red.
"And what does Miss Grant do?"
"She runs Grant Incorporated.... guess where it's based?" William wished dearly that Lash would come out of the walls. It was schziophrenic enough to talk with Observer, but this took the cake. Talking to the walls. "They specialise in programs to help Metas and orphans now." That would be sure to get her attention.
Lash sniffed, still mentally fingering the ‘edge’ of her parents image, “How touching.”
There was another dragged out silence, till Lash suddenly whispered directly behind William, just inches from his ear, causing him to jump, “I know someone who’s both!” She pulled away, “Does that qualify?”
Willam's heart skipped about 4 or 5 beats when he turned back to see Lash standing there. At least she was finally out of the wall. "I think it does." He smiled at her, hoping that her anger had at last subsided. "Would you like me to make arrangements for travel?"
Lash adorned her usual, mischeveious smile again, bestowing it upon her friend, "I would be much obliged, if you would, kind Sir."
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Die fröhlike Wissenschaft – Part Four”
With Marc Alaimo as Observer and Claudia Black as Sara
August 7, 2003
Old Benson Laboratory in Utah
Dr. Avery Wyatt looked up from the second of the bodies he was finishing constructing, having already spent a month on the previous one. The second body was by far much easier to construct, since he now had experience with the basic design. This one should be finished soon as well, if only –
CRASH!
Wyatt turned quickly, nearly jumping off of his chair at the sound of the noise. The doctor slowly shook his head at the sight before him: Observer, now in control of his body through the connection, appeared to be a middle aged gentleman who was dressed in a suit, as you would expect a businessman. Despite that, he had apparently managed to fall, taking a drawer of a filing cabinet with him.
Observer’s body slowly and deliberately positioned hands below it, pushing up and backwards. Now, at last, the AI was getting the hang of controlling the body though the process of reaching its (his? Wyatt wondered) feet was a slow, deliberate process which almost resulted in several crashes.
At last the body stood bolt upright.
“Perhaps you should consider reading those articles on human anatomy which Sara and I recommended to you,” said Wyatt, turning back to the other body. One of joints in her hand was not working quite properly, synthetic skin pulled back to reveal the metal skeleton contained within. A final adjustment to the ligaments, and her fist was now able to close.
Observer’s body let out a reflexive sigh to show his annoyance, hardly moving at all from the current position. “The problem with that being that I am not exactly human.” He began to move slowly across the room again, focusing lest another embarrassing collapse happen. “Still, I suppose this body does have a human enough anatomy that it may be prudent.”
Wyatt slowly shook his head. He wished that Observer would just go somewhere else. That AI was hardly sociable at all, unlike his counterpart Sara. She had said that she was used to working with humans, particularly scientists, and it showed. A final few adjustments to activate the power reactor, and it was on-line.
“That should do it,” beginning to close the chest cavity. Wyatt felt no small amount of pride at completing the work. Construction of the artificial bodies was easily a very difficult project to say the least. A rather powerful internal skeleton, covered by living tissue, and almost fully functional as far as a human body went.
“It’s about time,” Observer muttered, finding a chair to take a seat in. The AI shut his eyes, indicating that the connection was if not broken, then at least in a form of reduced activity mode. Wyatt hoped he was reading the articles.
Sara’s eyes opened after a minute or two, and blinked once or twice. Observer’s had done that as well, an almost reflexive responsive to seeing as a human sees for the first time. Her body sat upright slowly, as she slowly turned her head around the room, testing various controls. She already seemed to have a much greater knowledge of how her body parts at least ought to work.
“This is very fascinating,” she said, looking around the room. Her mouth formed a small smile, a simple response that Wyatt had programmed in and hoping he got the impulses for pleasure right. The neural activity of an intelligent program had been difficult enough to adapt. “No, don’t,” as Wyatt moved to help her stand.
He stepped back, raising a hand. “Very well, but you may find movement disorienting.” It was a caution made doubley important by Observer’s attempt to get off the table, the artificial body almost immediately crashing to the floor. To his surprise and pleasure, however, she did manage to slowly turn, dangle her legs off the edge of the table, then drop down to the floor while almost falling.
Sara continued to move slowly around the room, looking at various things like the computer console, equipment, everything. This was the first time she was getting to observe these things in the same manner that humans did. She was broken out of her joyful exploration by the sound of Wyatt coughing. “What’s wrong?”
Observer did not open his eyes. “He’s waiting for you to get dressed.”
Sara’s body stopped with the same rigidity Observer had managed. She looked down at her body, then over towards the corner where a screen had been set up for changing. “Humans,” was all she said as she moved to disappear behind the partition.
Wyatt shook his head slowly again. However much pride he felt at accomplishing the task, there was still one thing he knew. Those two had a lot to learn.
His one hope now was that Observer would keep his word and protect Sydney.
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Die fröhilke Wissenscaft – Part Five”
Saturday August 9, 2003
Vega City
If there was one way to show power to another potential group of allies, Observer decided that the ability to show he could benefit them would be the most efficient way. Which led to his current situation, sitting in the back of the limousine travelling through Sector Two of Vega City. With him was Sara and Dr Wyatt, while the Fixer acted as his driver.
Observer looked down at the outfit he wound up wearing. “I can’t believe you humans actually wear these ties,” he said, readjusting it before finally quitting and tossing it aside. The limousine pulled to a stop. “William, wait for us until we’re prepared to leave.”
The side door opened, and three people exited outside of the apartment building, to proceed up several floors of steps until they finally reached the apartment of Ben Carson, friend of James Gates and member of the VCLG. Sara knocked on the door, and they waited for him to open it.
“Mr. Carson?” said Sara when the door opened a bit. “My name is Sara. We would like to speak with you if that’s possible.”
Ben eyes the woman warily through the crack in the door. He didn't recognise her, or her accomplices, his reporters instincts told him there could be no good reason for such people to be calling so late at night. "Sara who? What do you want?" he asked cautiously, the last time he'd let strangers into his home he ended up tied to the radiator while they looted his house. Vega City just wasn't a safe place to live anymore.
Sara and Observer traded information in silence. They had expected him to be reluctant for good reason, especially when they told him what they had to offer. “It’s just Sara,” she said, leaving out the mouthful that this stood for. “We have an offer for your friend James, perhaps his new ‘friend’ as well.”
Ben hessitated for a moment, they knew about James and Syd? Could they perhaps be part of the government organisation that was trying to track her down? Ben was about to turn these people away when suddenly he heard the sound of the Sector Police patrol as they began their patrol of the streets in sector two. A loud alarm suddenly sounded, Ben hastily opened the door and hushered the small group inside. He'd rather be taken for a fool and be robbed again, than incur the 'interest' of the Sector Police.
Observer moved slowest into the apartment as he worked to enter the records of the Sector Police. Where were they going? After a minute or two, he gave up on the search. There were more pressing matters at hand for the time. “Thank you,” Sara was saying.
She motioned to the other artificial person in the room. “I hope you’ve already heard of my associate, Observer. And he,” she said, referring to the other man, “is Dr. Avery Wyatt.”
Ben was dumbfounded as the woman introduced her companions. Of course he remembered the e-mail the VCLG had received warning about Kale and urging Sydney to stay in hiding for the time being.
A warning Sydney had deliberately ignored he might add. But it was more the introduction of Dr. Wyatt that had shocked Ben the most. He'd done a little research into the facility at Wyoming where Sydney had been 'created' he also knew that the man behind most of the experiments was one Doctor Avery Wyatt, missing and presumed dead.
"D-doctor Wyatt?" he stammered, trying to maintain his composure, "what, what is going on here? What do you people want with me?"
At long last, Observer spoke, cutting off Wyatt as he had started to say something. “Not much, really,” he said, bringing his gaze to bear on Ben. “Dr. Wyatt here recently helped us, and wished to be reunited with the lovely Ms. King. We also have a deal for you.”
Observer and Sara again traded information in silence, passing questions between them. “Certain events are being set in motion,” Observer broke the silence. “Events which will place Sara and myself in a position to help James and Sydney, particularly as regards Ethan Kale.”
“We’re could make very useful allies,” Sara said, getting Ben’s attention. “It’s possible we’ll even be able to help each other greatly.”
"Lets cut to the chase," Ben said, leading the group to his small living room and sitting down on a threadbare chair. "What are you expecting me to do in exchange for this 'help' you're offereing?"
“At the moment, we need a place to stay,” said Sara, her and Observer still standing while Wyatt sat as well. “Only a year at most, hopefully less time until all the pieces fall into place.”
“Anything else, I would prefer to discuss with James directly,” Observer said. “It all depends on what we need to do to aide each other.”
Ben scratched the back of his neck nervously. He knew James could easily supply a place for Sara and her companion to stay, IF he thought it was neccessary. He wasn't sure if he completely trusted either of them, they were definetly something.
"I can probably arrange for a meeting between yourselves and James," he said finally. "But I can't guarentee that he'll co-operate with your requests."
“Oh, I think he’ll co-operate,” Observer said ominously. It would be possible for him to arrange someone where on his own, but he was not one to pass up an opportunity. “It’s in his interests to have someone capable of keeping his secrets, after all.”
Sara glanced over at Wyatt, a worried expression on his face. Observer really lacked anything resembling people skills, she decided. “You can at least make sure that Sydney knows Dr Wyatt is alive, I hope? That would mean a great deal to her, from what I’ve heard.”
"I'm sure it would," agreed Ben, deciding almost immediately that he dislike the Observer guy. What did he mean anyway 'in his interests to have someone capable of keeping his secrets'? Was this man about to blow the VCLG's cover? "I'll do the best that I can, is there a way that I can contact you?"
It was Sara who answered, by reaching into her jacket to withdraw a single cellar telephone. “Use the second number in the speed dial,” she said. Of course, it had been altered to not display the numbers in speed dial. Little would he know the phone would dial Zyrcom.
Ben took the phone, turning it over in his hands curiously.
"Very well, I'll contact you once I have a meeting set up." Suddenly there was a noise outside, alerting the citizens that the Sector Police had now departed, making it 'safe' to return to the streets.
“Thank you,” Sara said, reaching out to shake his hand. Ben hesitantly took it to shake. Observer nodded and turned to leave silently, while Wyatt remained. “Please, Doctor, we must go,” Sara said.
“But you promised…” he started, looking at Sara, then Ben. He took Ben’s hand in his own, looking at him with a pleading look in his eyes. “If you know Sydney, I’m counting on you.” The trio left shortly after that, Observer giving the instructions to leave once they reached the limousine.
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
“Die fröhlike Wissenschaft” – Part VI
Vega City
August 12, 2003
11:20pm
James Gates could still hardly believe he was doing this. Vega City was not a place you wanted to be out in public late at night in, especially alone. As he got out of his car and looked around, he wished that the mysterious ‘Observer’ had decided another way. When Ben tried to arrange the meeting, the man had been very clear: they would meet on his terms or not at all.
At the end of the street, a pair of headlights came to life. A limousine began to move down the street slowly, which James walked toward. This was supposedly part of the meeting, though he hoped that it wasn’t just a ploy by sector police or worse. In truth, it was one thing that made him decide to go: he was both intrigued and annoyed at being unable to trace the mysterious e-mail Observer sent him.
The limo stopped, a black tinted window rolling down. James glanced in and could see the man sitting there, matching the description that Ben gave him. “Good evening, Mr Gates,” he said in that voice which carried a mix of power and arrogance. “Please get in.”
"Now listen here pal," said James warily, he'd never been one to take orders and this 'Observer' had given more than his fair share. "I've had just enough of all this cloak and dagger shit to last me a life time, you're gonna tell me what the Hell it is you want before I go anywhere with you."
Suddenly a car door opened and a burly man stepped out clenching his fists together. Before James could react the man had thrown him hard against the side of the car, causing him to grunt as the air was forcibly knocked out of his lungs. The man quickly patted down his clothes until he found what he was looking for, with a satisfied grin, the hired goon removed James' pistol from the waistband of his jeans before pulling him back to his feet and opening the door to the Limo.
James glared up at the thug but he wasn't about to try and take him on now he had his gun pressed into his back. "Doesn't look like I have much of a choice now does it?" he said to no one in particular before climbing inside.
The door was shut with a loud BANG before the Goon re-entered the automobile and started the engine. The Limo roared to life and sped away into the darkness of Vega City.
Observer and Sara both sat fairly upright as Gates tried to adjust himself to the new speed. "I regret that was necessary," said Observer, James snorting at him. "But given this city, we probably do not want to discuss our buisness in public. Answer me this, Mr. Gates: who runs Vega City?"
"Not even gonna offer me a drink?" James scoffed, nodding at the decanter of Brandy that sat in the corner of the Limo's interior. This wasn't the first time James had been bundled inside a car against his will, it was the first time that the displays of social niceties had been completely ignored. "Don't mind if I help myself do you?" James proceeded to pour himself a drink and sat back against the plush leather seats, in such situations it was always advisable to appear as relaxed and in control as possible.
Sara watced the entire exchange with clinical detachment. The dynamic between the two was going to prove interesting. Observer had fully intended to put himself in a position of power, and now was managing to fail at this. Gates was not intimidated. "What Observer is offering you is a potential ally. We have a number of connections, after all, that could prove usefull to you."
James sipped at the drink, Ben had been right when he said the woman was more personable than her male counterpart. "I have plenty of allies already, what makes you think I need anymore?"
Sara was glad that Observer apparantly decided to allow her to take over trying to speak for them. "That may be the case, how many of them have government connections?" She was trying to avoid making any sort of threat. *Observer, don't screw this up, please.* "We've already misdirected Ethan Kale once, for example."
"And we could continue to do so," added Observer.
James placed his glass down in contemplation, "Which tells me little apart from the fact that you enjoy playing games, kind of like forcing a guy against his will into a car with you." He silently observed the two before speaking again, their faces were both blank and expressionless, James felt like whatever he said would make no difference to these cool customers. "What I'm interested to know is what you expect out of this deal?”
"There is a war coming, between Metas and regular humans," said Sara emotionlessly. "We're going to need allies of our own if we are to survive, especially so long as men like Ethan Kale and Senator Layman are in power."
"I'm aware of the situation," said James morosely, "but if we are on the same side we shall be allies regardless. You can forgive my hessitation, but what is this all about? You say you want to help me with Ethan Kale, fine. But at what cost?"
"It pains me deeply to admit that my cover has been comprimised," said Observer. "Which means that I need someone to help me hide from my enemies - someone unconnected to my various aliases." That was all true in a sense, except that this was yet another layer of Observer's paranoia. Nobody in the Illuminati could be allowed to know about them until they took power.
"So you want me to hide you?" James scratched his chin thoughtfully, at least now he was getting somewhere close to the truth though he seriously doubted that Observer was telling him everything but. "I can set up a safe house as you well know, I have the resources, what I want is as much intel you have on Kale as possible."
Observer's voice was calm and measured, speaking slowly as he sifted through the data available. "That is an awful lot of data, Mr. Gates. I will need something of equal value as well. Say, everything you have on the Trinity."
James clenched his fists tightly, he hadn't seen Sydney since they'd argued, she'd taken his motorcycle and high-tailed it to Indigo City - or at least, that was where he guessed she'd gone.
She was probably holed up with that Eric guy, but he couldn't be sure, James just hoped that she wasn't in any danger.
Observer continued to search through the bits of data and reports various programs forwarded him when suddenly he stopped. “Oh my,” he said. “I can certainly see why Kale is so… interested in Sydney.”
Sara received a set of files, going through them. She was the one far more suited to fully analyse these files. Observer had found something on her augmentations. “His kind does hate humans who artificially become metas more than ‘natural’ metas. Even if he was responsible in creating them.”
“Well, PsiTech at least got a pretty penny off the deal. They really should protect their files better.” Observer smiled deviously at James, another of Wyatt’s automatic responses. “I will offer you bit of information for free on Mr. Kale. To prove my sincerity. Ask any question you like, Mr. Gates.”
James looked warily at the two strangers, 'strange' was definately an understatement where they were concerned. He continued to scratch his chin in contemplation, he already knew quite a bit about Kale, his own hacking skills were good enough to get the basic dirt. Still he didn't know who he was working for, oh he knew it was the CIA but he was more interested in the actual individuals in Washington that were doing the button pushing.
It was this question that he asked Observer, then waited for his answer.
Observer searched but for the life of him, this was one vital piece of data that escaped him with any degree of certainty. Except for the people who they were obviously not working for. Which was when he continued to increase the search. "An interesting question, but not the one you should be interested in. I would be more concerned with the police having chased a woman who sounds remarkably like your Sydney out of Indigo City.”
Sara interjected something before Gates could reply. She was not about to let the two get into a contest over who could display the most arrogance. "Observer tells me her movements put her heading to this city," she pointed out, hoping that would cause some relief before droping the bombshell. "Her 'father' would probably like to see her again, wouldn't you agree?"
"Her father? But I thought..." James stopped suddenly as a sly smile of comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh, you mean Dr. Wyatt." Sydney's, James knew that they had been close, having a father-daughter relationship of some sorts. He knew that Sydney was anxious to get to him, it would go a long way to reconcile their differences if he could perhaps find the doctor.
"Go, on," he said, "I'm listening."
"In exchange for certain services rendered, we agreed to reunite Dr. Wyatt with Sydney," explained Sara, carefully taking in everything about James' reaction. There was definately something there in his relationship to the woman. "He is in the city right now, and you would be the most efficient way to get in contact with her."
James was probably more suspicious than ever after their last comment. There was obviously something, probably alot that they weren't saying but his reserve was begining to be worn down. He wouldn't trust them as far as he could throw them but in exchange for a place to stay and a few titbits about Trinity it seemed worth it. Especially if he could get rid of Kale in the process.
"Very well," he said finally if not still a bit hesitant, "you have a deal."
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
May 25th, Indigo City
“Who’s there?” Eric’s eyes strained to see who was inside the limousine.
“A friend, agent Fenris,” the woman’s voice responded somewhat amused; she so did enjoy toying with people.
All the nerves in his exhausted body tightened up when he heard the words agent Fenris. Whoever it was addressing him knew Eric’s identity, and that was definitely not a good thing.
“Please agent Fenris, you’re going to catch a cold staying out in the rain like that, don’t be shy, come in”. The door of the limousine opened, revealing its mysterious occupant: Miranda Shaw.
*This is not what I need now* Spinning around, Eric began to sprint away, hoping to escape through the subway once more. His legs managed to take him just one step before the electrical impulses commanding his limbs ceased to reach their destination. THUMP His already aching body fell ungracefully to the cold, wet ground. *What the hell? *
“Marcus, it seems agent Fenris is having a hard time walking, would you help him up please”.
“Come any closer buddy, and you’ll regret it,” Eric warned as a man exited the driver’s door of the limo and began to approach him. He was tall, broad shouldered, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. Something told Eric he was more than a simple driver.
“Please agent Fenris, there is really no need for threats. Miss Shaw simply wishes to speak with you. And between you and me…,” he said as he bent down and gently lifted Eric back to his feet, “It’s a lot nicer in there, than out here”.
Eric’s eyes widened in surprise as Marcus pushed him into the back of the limousine. *Why did my legs give out, why couldn’t I telekinetically throw him? * Despite the storm’s chilling wind, a bead of sweat began to trickle down his weary face. Here he was, weaponless, hurting from his beating at the hands of Culexes, sitting in the back seat of a car with one of Valhalla’s overlords – things could not get much worse.
Miranda Shaw’s appearance was not what one would picture when thinking of a crime boss. She was elegant, beautiful, and sophisticated, and she held herself with silent dignity. Eric, however was not fooled by her soft and pleasant demeanor. He had seen her once before while he was acting as security for an Overlord meeting, so he knew exactly how dangerous this woman truly was.
“I must say, it is an honor to finally get to speak to you in person. You were a legend throughout the organization, and now, ever since you left, people talk about you even more”. She smiled delicately, “Where are my manners, would you like a drink? The car is equipped with a full bar”.
“Quit the pleasantries, what do you want from me,” Eric hissed. Like a fly caught in a spider’s web, the hero was utterly helpless –for some unknown reason, he still couldn’t move from the neck down, or use his abilities.
The overlord smirked at the sight of her company’s anxiety. “No need to be worried…. Eric isn’t it?” She waited for a response, but Fenris remained silent.
“Well, if you don’t feel like speaking, you can sit there and listen to what I have to say. We, at Valhalla, have been monitoring your handy work since you left the company. Destroying shipments, causing an agent insurrection, even killing Cerberus….well we don’t actually know if he is dead, we never found the body,” she added as an afterthought. “Your interference in our affairs has cost us quite a great deal of time, and money, and it is about time that someone finally deals with this issue. Since my associates seem incapable of doing so, I have decided to take matters into my own hands”.
“So if you’re planning on killing me, why not just get it over with, or is your plan to talk me to death?”
“Kill you?, Oh no, no, no agent Fenris, I have no interest in assassinating you, so don’t concern yourself with that,” Miranda retorted, before finishing the tiny amount of wine left in her glass.
*Now this is really odd* Eric had no idea what to make of the situation. The rogue agent was definitely a thorn in Valhalla’s side, and it was surely in their best interest to finish him off now, yet for some unknown reason, the overlord was treating him like some sort of business associate. “Well, if I don’t have to worry about you offing me, what do I have to worry about? I worked for Valhalla long enough to know your not here to simply give me a lift home”.
“Well, Eric, you are certainly correct in assuming that we have a purpose for meeting this evening. I’ve come to offer you a proposition. How would you like to come back to the fold, come back to Valhalla?”
Eric’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Is this some sort of joke? Do you honestly think id ever come back?!” The ex-agent’s voice began to rise in irritation. “You must have taken a huge hit of I.N.L to even think for just a second id say yes”.
To his surprise, Miranda did not so much as flinch at his aggressive response; she had anticipated the reaction. “Before you make a hasty decision, you should consider -”
“Consider what, there is nothing to consider!”
She waited patiently for Eric to calm down before she continued. “You should consider you alternative choice. If you decide to continue on your present path, you will not go very far. Already, Indigo City is demanding the head of “The Red Menace,” for the death of one of their officers. Now you and I both know you weren’t responsible, but I don’t think everyone else will see things in the same light. If you try to patrol the city like you have done in the past, it would be a matter of minutes before one of the good citizens of Indigo City reported you to the police”.
As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. It would be a lot harder to keep up the role of FenrisX now that everyone in 100 mile radius was out for his blood. Even though, he was still unwavering in his decision. “You think you can scare me into coming back?”
“Certainly not, I’m only trying to show you the pros and cons of each option. Eric, what kind of life do you plan on leading? Do you want to live out your days always watching your back wondering when Valhalla will strike against you next? That is certainly a lonely existence”.
Again the overlord was right, he was alone. He didn’t have the companionship of his fellow agents, the love of his life was lost to him forever, and he had done of good job of screwing things up with Sydney.
“However,” she went on, “If you choose to come back with us, I can insure that Valhalla will drop all its grievances against you, your safety is guaranteed. But that’s not all. I don’t expect you to return to you’re old post as a simple agent, we both know you are far to experienced for that. I want you to come back to work alongside Marcus as my protégé. Think of what I’m offering you, a position of real power in the organization. This is the deal of a life time agent Fenris, don’t pass it up”.
* * * * *
6 months later. Nov 15, 2003. Valkyrie Co.
Miranda Shaw sat behind her large glass desk, mulling over her speech. As CEO of Valkyrie Co. she had been invited to the upcoming summit concerning Metas, to talk about new ways of transporting dangerous superhumans. The event would allow her to not only network with some of the worlds most powerful men and women, but also give her direct information which could be useful for Valhalla. A sudden knock on her office door broke her concentration. “Come in”.
Marcus walked into the room, directly followed by another man. Both gentlemen were dressed in Armani suits and carried large black briefcases.
“Is it time to leave already?” Miranda asked, surprised at how fast the time flew while she was memorizing what she was going to say.
“The driver is waiting for us downstairs, and if we don’t hurray, we’ll miss our flight. We wouldn’t want to be late to the summit now would we,” Eric said.
Introducing Michelle Pfeiffer as Miranda Shaw and Ben Browder as Marcus
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
May 26th
Operation Scorpion HQ: Indigo City
Culexes stood before Daedalus’ desk, back straight, eyes forward, chest out. Daedalus too was standing. There was no at-ease order this time, no sitting, cigar or chit-chat. This was not the same debriefing as had came after the successful execution of Mr. Redfield; not a congratulatory meeting.
It was a reprimand. They hadn’t got to that yet, but it was coming. The agent knew it.
“Agent Culexes.” Daedalus began. “I’ve gone over your report several times.” Indeed, it was open on his desk. As always. “I commend you in seizing the initiative to act at a time when the target was weak and open. That’s the sort of thing we have trained you to do and expect from you.” Now. He’ll say ‘however’ Culexes predicted. “However,” he continued, making Culexes’ prediction correct, but he didn’t smile with satisfaction. He didn’t do anything at all but continue to stare at a place several centimetres above Daedalus’ head, “I do not expect you to leave an execution scene in the way you did. We deliberately drilled into you the necessity of checking for mistakes, of making sure. Not only did you fail in your duty to do so, but the cost of that led to the meta’s escape and subsequent disappearance.”
“I take full responsibility for my actions, or lack thereof.” Culexes stated in monotone.
“As you should. Such a dereliction of duty has and probably will cost us dearly. In a public place, too. With witnesses…” Daedalus shook his head and looked down and away.
I’m still unsure of how the individual escaped.” The agent said, after a pause. “I shot him. I saw him go down. He should, by all rights, be dead.”
“I imagine he should.” Daedalus replied, scanning Culexes’ report. “But his body was not found on the train, and several witnesses,” He looked up, “Witnesses for God’s sake, agent, report him getting back up. I regret to inform you that dead men don’t do that, agent.” After trying to catch Culexes’ eye for a moment, who continued to gaze away from him, he went back to the report. “Now, we know this meta, this ‘FenrisX’ possessed telekinetic skills. Could it be he was able to stop the bullet?”
“Unlikely. Unless he was more powerful than we thought or observed. In which he case he might, might, have been able to stop the bullet just before it hit him. And stop it from exploding, too. Again, I say unlikely.”
“But possible nonetheless. Or just damned lucky.” Daedalus sighed. “And letting him go is only the start of it. There’s still the case of witnesses seeing not just the execution but your own face…not one of your best, Culexes, and as of now not one of yours at all. I’m taking you off the case. You’ll be transferred to another.”
Culexes remained stone-faced despite the fact that this was unprecedented. He had never been transferred in the middle of an operation before. “I’m going to have to protest. If the witnesses are to be believed, then he’s still out there. We can’t let a risk like him go. Let me track him down again and finish it.”
“Even though you and almost every field agents stationed in the city searched half the it last night without finding any trace of him? Even though the target knows you’re after him?” The agent nodded. Daedalus sighed again. “Fine. You have one week. No more. Find him during that time, execute him, fine. Don’t, then we’ll keep an eye out and you’ll be transferred. No protests.”
“That’s perfectly reasonable.” Culexes replied diplomatically.
“Damn right it is. Dismissed.”
Monthly Series 1: 16th June 2003 to November 16(ish) 2003
November 9th,
Los Angeles
Within a modern and dimly lit room, that was also several dozen meters below the city of LA, twelve people sat in council. They convened around a circular table in which there was no head and they all had a place with water, pens, paper and of course files and documents. The room was reinforced conrete, with phones fitted that could ring anywhere in the world. Next door and also underground was another room, this one full of computers that were in constant contact with every Operation base in the world and staffed by Scorpion personnel. It had it’s own air supply, electricity supply, and underneath the table was enough emergancy food and water to last for months. It was, for all intents and purposes, a war room.
“And yet, despite this one apparent ‘failure’,” One man was saying; middle aged, balding and slightly round, “Which I believe is just as effective as if it had been a ‘success’ in driving the meta out of a position where it can harm the public and well-being of the human race, albeit possibly to resurface again but unlikely, the experiment has performed remarkably. Well beyond the levels of our expectations.”
“You say this even though the subject lost all trace of the meta, despite the fact he had another week and still didn’t find anything. By having the subject transferred by you personally from mudane case to mudane case that are surely more befitting a regular agent ever since, close to five months might I add, with every request to return to hunting the meta denied shows your own lack of faith in the subject. Rather than actually sending the subject out there to achieve the level you indicate, you instead have him doing the same thing he's been doing for the last six months; assasinating one mutant after another. I'm not saying that we shouldn't be doing this, rather asking the question 'where is the challenge?' How do we know what he is capable of if the subject isn't asked to do anything new? I say return him to hunting the meta.” A second man; much older with white hair.
“It’s not my lack of faith. The meta in question has gone deep underground. It won't be so much a challenge as a failure and waste of resources from the beginning to end. Even with all the modern advances we have, we can only trace somebody so far. There’s two causes for this; the first being he’s so deep that the only way he can be found is if he wants to be found, or that another orginisation of some sort is harbouring him.”
“What?” Asked a speaker who’s American accent clearly had roots in Texas. “Another orginisation? Who? And what could they possibly gain from doing so?”
“Why, isn’t that obvious?” This came from a German. “To gain leverage over us. They have somebody we tried to execute under their protection. That opens up many doors to bribery for them. They could threaten going public.”
A worried and panicked murmer rose.
“But they don’t know anything else…” The man from Texas trailed off, “Do they?”
The first speaker broke the heavy silence that had fallen on them. “Please, we’re getting off the subject. I have men and women looking into this, and as of yet they have found nothing that indicates anybody is onto us.”
“I have to disagree with you there, Daedalus. This incident directly ties in with our current situation. You understand of course, the delicay of our position?” The second reminded. “The summit is just round the corner. The last thing we need is more incidents like that. Too much hangs at stake.”
There was a general murmur of agreement amongst the twelve; the select handful that were the governing board of Operation Scorpion. Six, including the only woman of the group, second speaker and two other Americans, were part of the Humans First group. One was an American army general, the other a Colonel in the air force. There was an adivsor to the Russian President, whilst the German was deputy-director of German intelligence. There was also an American senator, though not one of the leading, more well-known senators.
"Indeed." Griffin, a member of the Humans First agreed. "But the question of the experiments overall failure or sucess is not in discussion at this time. That can come at a later date, Daedalus, as you well know. We must instead turn our attention to the summit, and the security surrounding it."
Agog, the general, spoke up. "The security surrounding the summit is already very, very high. There are countless factions sending their own security forces to the area. I doubt there is much more we could do to protect it, save sending in an army-"
"Which," The woman, Cobra, said with a smile, "Will be just a little conspicuous."
There was a short burst of modest laughter before Agog continued. "Even without the army, any attempt to enter by persons without a pass will be difficult to impossible."
"Ah, but we might not be dealing with mere 'persons'. What precautions are being undertaken with regards to metas?" The Russian, Bear, asked, his well-used English not quite hiding his accent.
"Not nearly enough, I imagine." The white-haird man, going by the alias 'Snowfox' commented.
"Admittedly, no." Agog agreed. "That's where our own personnel come in. I believe Daedalus has something...?"
"Of course. As well as 25% of the Scorpion personnel at every Operation base in the US, I shall also be transferring Culexes to the Washington D.C. area."
Several drew gasps. "Are you quite sure such measures are necessary?" Magog, the Colonel asked.
"I believe Daedalus knows more than he is telling us." The Texan, Poseidon, ventured. "Something that comprimises the security of the whole summit."
"All I know is that the world leaders are meeting in that of arguably the most powerful and influential nation in the world to discuss the meta 'question'. That, in itself, compromises the security of the summit, and as such necessary steps must be taken."
"Including transferring Culexes?" Snowfox asked.
"Including transferring our best agent there, yes." Daedalus confirmed.
"I am in agreeance with Daedalus." Cobra said. "We need the best we've got in Washington. I can almost garuntee that something will happen, or be planned, and we'll need Culexes to help."
"Let's just hope that prediction does not come true." The German said, wistfully.
Bear snorted. "Saying that, it probaby will." His voice carried all the fatalism that characterised the Russian people.
The senator, Ananke, nodded. "Very well, Daedalus. You know these things best. If this is what you recommend..."
"It is."
"Then let us take a vote."
Daedalus’ suggestion was passed unanimously, and the meeting formally broke up; dissolving into seperate conversations. Daedalus, though, headed straight out of the room, in close council with Cobra.
Culexes wouldn't be very happy about being transferred mid-mission again, but really was Culexes ever anything? No. He might be slightly annoyed, perhaps, but he would follow his orders. After all, that's what they programmed him to do.
Hello Stranger - Sydney's Return
Hello Stranger
Wednesday, 12th November 2003
Glacier NP, Montana
Just Before Sunset
Fresh snow was already beginning to fall. A long, lonely stretch of road snaked around the mountain range of Montana with Swiftcurrent Lake lying silently in the valley below. Sydney’s motorbike roared down the deserted highway, cutting a sleek black trail through the white covering. The whine of the engine was the only sound to be heard as Syd sped down the road in a blur.
Syd loved everything about riding a motorcycle, the sheer power that roared like a wild beast between her legs was entirely sexual and savage in the same moment. Feeling nothing but the wind whip past your face as you hit 90 miles an hour, taking a sharp bend in the road at the last minute and feeling your life in your hands as, in that last split second, you regained control of the bike and continued on your way. Nothing came close to that feeling. Nothing.
She’d been on the road for almost six months now, ever since she’d left Indigo City. After sleeping with Eric she didn’t feel much like going back there again, nor did she feel up to returning to Vega City. James expected too much from her, trying to mould her into being the big superhero destined to bring down Trinity and free the people from oppression. Sydney wasn’t even sure if that’s what she wanted. She’d spent so much of her life following orders the last thing she wanted was to be taking them from someone else.
Suddenly the bike skidded harshly, the rubber tires screeching against the asphalt as Syd hit the breaks and paused for a moment; the headlamp of the motorbike sending a strong beam down the rapidly darkening road and highlighting every snowflake that slowly fell from the sky. Sydney revved the engine a few times before turning the bike off the main road and into the surrounding wilderness.
’BUMP, BUMP, BUMP’
The motorcycle bounced down the steady incline, swerving around trees and rocks as Sydney sought out a worn path. Then there was Ethan Kale, another problem, though Syd knew there was a simple solution to that, all it would take was a well-timed attack and a well placed bullet. Sydney was going to enjoy that moment, behind the dark visor her eyes blazed with untamed fury. She suddenly stopped the bike, coming to the edge of the lake, kicking up a flurry of freshly fallen snow and various other debris in her wake.
Sydney climbed off the bike, shaking her long hair loose from the restrictive crash helmet. She walked down to the water’s edge and sank down to her knees. Syd looked at her image reflected in the still, dark waters, months of living in the wilderness had taken its toll, she no longer looked her usual sleek and composed self but rather feral and wild.
She unzipped the heavy leather biker jacket and dropped it on the riverbank; a pair of heavy boots, skin-tight pants and a tight white t-shirt soon joined it. Sydney waded out into the lake, her naked flesh goosepimpling against the chilly water. She swam out, enjoying the exhaustingly cold water touching every part of her body. It felt good, awakening, though deathly chill at the same time. With a graceful tumble Syd dove under the water’s surface, gliding through the icy depths like a barracuda. This is what it meant to be free, she thought to herself. Forget revenge, forget deceit, forget cosmic destiny… Syd didn’t even believe in the last anyway, it was a concept James was forever talking about that made no sense at all to her. The Project had told her what to do in the past, when to eat, sleep, exercise, breed. But Sydney was the only one who controlled her actions now… with that thought she swam up to the surface, breathing in gulps of fresh air.
***
Syd strode out of the freezing lake, her body and hair dripping with water as she surfaced. She returned to where the pile of clothes waited and picked up her backpack. Pulling out a thick wool blanket, she wrapped it around her soaking body and slumped to the ground, just watching as the sun slowly began to set over the tranquil scene.
Eric had been the first man she’d ever been involved with out of her own choice. *And what a mess that had been* she thought. Sydney realised gloomily that there was more to being free, to being human than simple free will. She had that and yet she still felt different, a misfit, in fact the only place she’d ever felt a sense of belonging since leaving the compound in Gillette had been in Vega City with James, Ben, Matilda and the rest of the gang.
Sydney sighed, wringing out her long hair while redressing. Dr Wyatt had given his own freedom so that she could have hers and she was wasting it. That thought hurt, losing Cal and Mia hurt, for a long time the only thing that had kept her going had been the thought of getting her revenge on Ford and Kale. There was of course James too, he was a good man she could tell, perhaps once she had taken care of her own business she’d call in on him, try to make amends for taking off for so long… maybe…
She picked up her crash helmet and pulled it on over her damp hair, perhaps she’d been too hard on Eric too... Syd sometimes forgot that other people were a little more, well, complex than she was when it came to emotions. To her it had been sex, plain and simple, she felt nothing for Eric apart from a fair-weathered friendship – that and mild curiosity. But for Eric she knew it had been something else – a betrayal of his love for Jenna, even if she was still very dead.
Syd sighed, starting the engine and switching on the headlamp. Six months and she was still a mess, six months and no closer to a solution. The real world really was a bitch, she thought, just like Ford had told her it was. Sydney revved the engine and directed it around the water’s edge. Six months on her own, sleeping in the wilderness, living from the land or whatever she could steal might not have given her any answers but it had taught her one invaluable lesson. You could never run away from your problems.