2015-08-21
388
As the standoff at Terminal City stretches out with no end in sight, a deadly incursion reminds the transgenics just how vulnerable they are. Friends -- and foes -- from Max's past resurface and form an unlikely alliance. And Max and Logan begin to forge a tentative new relationship in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds
PROLOGUE
Max and Original Cindy's Quarters - Thursday Night
Original Cindy entered to find her roommate pacing restlessly around the room. "You gonna wear a hole in this floor, you keep that up."
"I feel like moving around," Max answered distractedly. "We've been here a week and not much has changed."
"Gettin' claustrophobic?"
"I miss my bike."
Original Cindy looked at Max for a moment, her expression mixing amusement and sympathy. "I bet that ain't all you miss." She waited for Max to stop pacing and turn to her in wonder before continuing. "You said it's all good to the gracious with you and Logan, but I ain't seen you two together very much."
Max threw up her hands and sighed, turning to look out the window. "That's another thing. We've both been so busy. I've been trying to make some kinda order out of all the chaos around here...Logan's trying to figure out this Sandeman rune stuff, whenever he's not looking for equipment or helping out in Command...We're like two ships passing in the night."
"Speaking of that rune stuff, any new ones?"
"Not that I know of. Check my back, will you?" Max turned around and lifted the back of her shirt.
As she approached, Original Cindy commented, "Good thing a couple people went and fetched some of our clothes on a supply run. No way Original Cindy would touch ten-day-old clothes." She checked Max's back carefully, then shook her head and lowered the shirt. "Uh-uh. No new ones since we got here."
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"What the hell is up with these things, anyway?" Max whirled around to face Original Cindy and continued to pace in frustration. "A few quotes, something about the shroud of death, and then nothing! What kind of whack job was this guy?"
Original Cindy sat down on her bedroll, sticking her legs out just as Max circled by. Max gave her a look, but she didn't move. "Logan making any progress tracking the guy down?"
Max snorted. "No. We're all holed up in here, with hardly any equipment and about a thousand other things getting in the way."
"Sounds like you could use a break."
"What we could use is someone on the outside to help."
San Francisco
The alley was dark and wet from the earlier rain. The buildings were either abandoned or closed up for the night, and the few working lights cast shadows that made it very easy for Lydecker to keep out of sight to the side of one of the buildings.
He looked down at his watch, a concerned look on his face. Suddenly, his head snapped back up and his eyes cut to his left, toward the alley. He heard slow, cautious footsteps approaching him. He withdrew his gun from the holster at his back and leaned firmly against the wall.
A figure passed Lydecker's hiding place, so Lydecker stepped out behind him, gun aimed directly at the figure's head. He cocked the gun.
Click.
The sound echoed up and down the empty alley.
"Turn around, slowly," Lydecker ordered.
The figure stopped, raised his hands up over his head, and proceeded to turn around very slowly, as ordered.
Lydecker's eyes narrowed and his finger tightened around the trigger.
As the figure turned around to face Lydecker, his face was illuminated under a dim street light: Krit.
Relieved, Lydecker lowered the gun and placed it back in its holster. Krit lowered his hands.
"You're late."
"Sorry. It couldn't be helped," Krit replied, looking and sounding uneasy. "I..."
Lydecker abruptly cut him off. "And you failed to contact anyone about your delay, soldier."
"There were…complications. I tripped the alarm and ended up being chased. Must've lost my phone along the way," Krit shrugged.
"That sounds like an excuse, soldier. You know I don't tolerate excuses. Don't let it happen again."
"Or what, Colonel?" Krit shot back. "This isn't Manticore. Manticore's history. We're not afraid of you anymore. 'Fear accomplishes nothing', remember?"
"Remember?" He smiled and stepped closer to Krit. The smile disappeared. "How could I forget? I taught you kids everything you know. I also remember that it was you who reached out to me for help a few weeks ago." He got right in Krit's face. "We do this my way." He paused. "Now…did you complete your assignment?"
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Flustered and clearly uncomfortable, Krit spoke up. "Yeah, I got what you wanted." He held up a disc in his hand.
Lydecker reached out and took the disc, then turned around and began walking away. He put the disc in one jacket pocket, and out of another pocket retrieved a phone. He turned around and tossed it to Krit, who was still standing where Lydecker had left him. Krit caught the phone with one hand.
"Check in and let her know we're en route," Lydecker ordered.
ACT I
Terminal City - Friday afternoon
As she had done every day since they had arrived, Max walked the entire grounds of Terminal City.
Police and National Guard were still posted at the perimeter. She avoided going out in the open to check on them, instead creeping from outer building to outer building, using her heightened vision to peer through the broken, dirty windows. The guards were alert, but nonchalant. After a week of impasse, the tension had eased a bit.
"Guess they've finally figured out we're not gonna come out and eat them," she muttered.
Her perimeter check complete, Max toured the other buildings of the complex, walking the seven inner streets freely. The atmosphere was calm. A small group had arrived in the relative safety of the pre-dawn hours, and Max checked on them as she toured the buildings set aside as living quarters.
"You okay?"
One of the new arrivals answered with a sigh, "Yeah. We'd be better with a shower, though."
"This will have to do for now," Max declared sympathetically, pointing to a metal tub. "There's a couple of old labs around here that have decontamination showers. You can use those when you really need vertical water flow."
The walls of the rec center had been knocked down, and it now occupied the entire first floor of a small building. A radio boomed music over a large set of speakers. Several transgenics were gathered around the TV, arguing whether to watch the news or a rap video. In the corner, one guy stood watch over the limited supply of beer. Max smiled as she heard Sketchy fruitlessly trying to con him out of a bottle.
"Sketchy, you know we've only got so much of that stuff. We made a rule, remember…no booze before nightfall. You want us to run dry?"
"Not to worry, Max," Alec assured her, not looking up from the magazine he was reading. "Nate's making a run for some more tonight."
"Just make sure he gets the other stuff first." Max pulled the magazine down from Alec's eyes to make sure he was paying attention. "We need food. Plus blankets, ammo, toilet paper…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Alec yanked the magazine out of Max's hand. "Just about everything."
"Beer can wait."
"Says you," Sketchy muttered on his way out.
Max rolled her eyes and moved on. A lone female transgenic stood watch at the bank of TV monitors in the Command Center. Max checked over the weapons supply in an adjacent room, and Dix entered to find her critically eyeing the ammunition stored there.
"We need more," she said, arms crossed. "That's all there is to it. We're okay for this standoff, but if anything goes down…Nate'll have to buy some tonight."
After a moment's hesitation, Dix replied, "Maybe he better wait on these and get the essentials. He'll be using the last of the money you scored last week, before we got locked up in here."
"What?! Already?"
"We've been going through it like water. Stocking up isn't cheap."
Max smiled. "Guess we'll just have to relieve some more bad guys of their cash."
Terminal City
Walking down one of the inner streets with her daughter, Gem noticed Joshua sitting in a small grassy area, nose in a rosebush. "Hi, Joshua."
Surprised by the sudden voice, Joshua quickly backed out of the flowers, scratching his nose on a thorn. "Ow!" He rubbed it and stood up, breaking into a smile. "Hey, Gem. Hey, Elfie."
"This used to be an industrial area," Gem commented, looking around. "I didn't expect to find a yard with flowers in it."
"Some people have lived here for months now. Spruced it up."
"So I see. I'm glad I came exploring." The baby squirmed, and Gem caught Joshua looking at the child with a smile on his face. "Want to hold her?"
His eyes opened wide and he took a step back. "What? I…No…Don't think I should."
"You'll be fine. Come on, my arms are killing me anyway." She held out her daughter. After a moment's hesitation, Joshua took her awkwardly, and Gem showed him how to hold her. She spoke softly to the baby for a moment, then looked up at Joshua, who was clearly enchanted. "Look how happy she is. She must really like you."
"I like her too." As soon as he spoke the words, Joshua's face saddened.
"What's wrong?"
"Memories." He said nothing for a few moments, gazing back at the rosebush. "I met a girl…before all this happened. Annie. She loved roses. But I had to let her go and…she died."
"I'm sorry." Gem was quiet, watching Joshua as he absent-mindedly rocked the baby. "But you know…at least you got to know her while she was around."
"I loved her."
"Even better. You had love for a while, Joshua. I never have." She stroked the baby's hair, smoothing it out, then placing a kiss on her cheek. "Elfie needs a father."
"You'll find someone someday." Joshua smiled, turning back to her with bright eyes.
"Someday we'll both have someones." Her reply was firm. Then her tone lightened as she joked, "Hey, how hard can it be?"
Secondary Kitchen
Logan stood staring at what must have once been a cafeteria kitchen. A mismatched assortment of old pots and pans hung from hooks on the walls, cracked china dishes cluttered the counters, and a few cases of bottled water lay under the scratched stainless-steel sink.
"Not exactly what I hear you've been used to." Luke was next to Logan in the doorway.
"Not quite," Logan agreed, attempting to turn one of the handles at the sink, "but I'll live." He managed to turn it through the rust, eliciting from it a screech as it moved, but no water came out of the faucet.
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"We haven't been pumping water or running power into this building," Luke explained. "The mess hall we've set up in another building does the job, so we don't spend much time in this one."
Logan grimaced. "It shows."
"Anyway, I heard Max say you're pretty good at cooking; thought maybe you'd be itching to do some. Plus the other ordinaries would probably appreciate something besides Manticore-style field rations. What do you think?"
Smiling at the mention of Max's name, Logan nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
Promising to route power and water into the kitchen, Luke walked out, leaving Logan to poke around.
While Logan was opening cupboards and sorting through cans, his cell phone rang, and he dug into his jacket pocket to answer it. "Hello?"
"Logan! You're all right! Thank God."
"Asha? What's up?"
"I went to your place after the S1W and I got back from our trip to Spokane. Your place was all trashed! I didn't know what to think. What happened?"
"It's dangerous working for the good guys," Logan answered with a rueful half-smile. "You know that as well as I do."
"So where are you now?"
Logan filled her in on the crisis at Jam Pony and subsequent flight into Terminal City. "Listen, Asha, do you think you could do me a favor? I didn't grab any of my stuff from Joshua's house…"
"Of course not," Asha agreed, chuckling. "You didn't expect to be holed up across town."
"Right. And that means I'm without ID. Plus I'm worried the same guys who took out my place might find their way to Joshua's."
"I got you covered. Just tell me what you need and I'll get it to you."
They arranged to meet the next day in sector 9. Max entered the kitchen doorway behind Logan as he said, "Thanks, Asha. I really appreciate this." Hearing her footsteps as he hung up, Logan turned and smiled widely at her. "Hey."
A smile grew on her own face. "Hey. Too bad I didn't catch you a few minutes sooner…coulda asked Asha to see if she could get her hands on some ammo for us."
"Makes sense. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow when I meet her to get my ID and spare glasses."
Max's brow knitted in concern. "I don't like the thought of you crossing that perimeter."
"I'll be fine," Logan reassured her, eyes following a rat crossing the kitchen floor. "Anyway, I might as well. Need to pick up some fresh food for this place. I'm getting sick of canned goods and nonperishable leftovers."
"Can't have Logan Cale going without his fresh vegetables, can we?"
Logan saw the joking look on her face, so rare these days, and matched it with one of his own. "Well, we could. But then you'd have to listen to me complain all the time."
"Yeah, who wants that?" Max's eyes drifted toward the scattered pots and pans.
"Planning to cook, huh?"
"Trying to."
Her next words were quiet and wistful. "Feels like forever since you cooked me dinner."
Logan stared at her for a moment. "It hasn't been for lack of trying."
Max glanced at him briefly, then dropped her gaze to the floor.
Logan's tone softened as he continued. "I know we still have the virus to worry about. But you need to trust me." He opened his bare hand briefly, then closed it again and looked around. Moments later, he was pulling on an old oven mitt and holding out the now-covered hand.
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She covered her hesitation with a nervous laugh. "That's a lot more porous than the latex."
"Max…"
After a look into Logan's eyes and a glance at her own gloves, she put her hand in his. Nothing happened, other than Logan breaking into a smile, so she did the same.
A few moments later, a can that had been teetering on the edge of the cupboard fell on Logan's foot. "Ouch," he said as his grin widened, and he reached down with his free hand to pick up the can. This time he made sure all the cans on the shelf were stable.
By the time he turned back to Max, her smile had faded back into concern. "I want you to take someone with you," she said. "An X-series."
"Sure," Logan agreed, giving her hand a squeeze.
He was about to add something, but instead looked over Max's shoulder. She turned to see Sketchy poke his head in the doorway. "Uh, Max, I don't mean to alarm you, but there is a very large transgenic dude demanding to know who's in charge around here. Since so far it seems to be you…"
Max sighed and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Can't a girl get any peace?"
"I'd say this is peace nowadays." Logan smiled. "You're not playing escape-and-evade and you're not busy kicking anybody's ass."
"Yet." Max's grin remained as she reluctantly let go of Logan's hand. "Gotta jet. See ya later."
Seattle Waterfront
White checked his watch as he paced beside his car. By the time he checked his watch again, a second car was pulling up next to him. The priestess climbed out, closed the door, and peered intently at White.
"Fe'nos tol," she said, her face expressionless.
He responded in kind. For a moment they were tense and silent, until finally White spoke. "I'm arranging for a way to incapacitate all the transgenics inside Terminal City. Once that's done, we'll go in and destroy them."
"The same way you destroyed 452 last week?" the priestess replied, raising one eyebrow.
White opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "You've had plenty of chances, Ames. The Conclave doubts your ability to carry out this assignment."
"I think I've proven myself enough in the past," said White, crossing his arms. "And might I add that 452 is…"
"Enough excuses, Ames." A second voice came from the car as a male figure stepped out of it. The man who had been present at Ray's initiation ceremony closed his car door and approached the pair. "This job needs to be done, soon. If you can't handle it, someone else will."
White looked from one to the other, glaring petulantly. "It'll get done."
"See that it is." The priestess' tone left no doubt as to the threat implied in that statement. "452 is our primary target. What if she's not eliminated?"
White looked out at the harbor for a moment. "I've traced the ownership records of that penthouse Eyes Only was broadcasting from. It took a little digging, but eventually some poor slob coughed up the name…with the right motivation."
"Eyes Only is off the air. He's no longer trying to win the public over to the transgenics' cause."
"No, but 452 seems awfully fond of his presence," White said wryly. "Those records we traced included his driver's license. The photo matches a man who's been with her half the times I've encountered her. He was part of the fight last week." With a snarl, he added, "He helped her take my son."
"Ames…"
"I think the bastard knows what happened to Ray. I want to find out. I get this guy, 452 comes after him, 'cause she can't bear to see anything happen to him," White sneered sarcastically. "He'll be her undoing."
"If not, this will be yours," the other man told him. "We can't have any more slip-ups."
The man walked back around the car and climbed in. The priestess took one more hard look at White before doing the same. "Fe'nos tol."
"Fe'nos tol," White was left to mutter as the car drove away.
Command Center - Friday Evening
Logan sat with Virgil at the bank of computers, his laptop open on the desk in front of him. "Way I see it, these sewers here are off-limits," he said, pointing at the grid on his screen, "now that the perimeter guard's aware they could be used as transportation routes. We'll have to take a different route, use tunnels they're not guarding."
Virgil nodded at this, then nodded a greeting to Max as she entered the Command Center. Max caught Logan's eye from across the room and exchanged grins with him before continuing over to the TV to check the news.
"As the standoff at Terminal City enters its second week, sources confirm that more and more transgenics are managing to filter into the area, evading the National Guard and police stationed at the perimeter. According to some reports, there have even been several instances when transgenics have come out and slipped back in, undetected. As a result, police are keeping a close eye on the activities of all citizens…"
"I'm really starting to get tired of that Channel 3 reporter," Alec remarked as he ambled into the Command Center, joining Max at the TV.
"You and me both," Max snorted, clicking off the TV and turning to him. "I want you to go with Logan to his meet with Asha tomorrow."
"What? Oh, no," Alec argued, hands raised in front of him. "No, no, no. The guy's still pissed at me for playing along with your little game. I'm not taking a field trip with him."
"Grow up. You're not in kindergarten." Max's tone blended exasperation with annoyance. "This is serious…it's dangerous out there. He shouldn't go out alone."
"Logan can take care of himself, Max. And, you know, even if he does need to take someone along, there are hundreds of soldiers here. Why's it have to be me?"
Max's face contorted with her sarcastic reply. "Because ya tried to kill him once and you still haven't worked it off."
Alec exhaled, rolling his eyes and looking away for a moment, then turned back to Max. "If you think I'm gonna be the one to tell him, you're crazy."
Max looked over at Logan, then climbed the steps to the platform. Logan greeted her from his seat in front of his computer. "Hey, Max. Virgil and I are planning our route out of here."
"I think you should take Alec instead," Max said in a rush.
Logan stiffened. "Max…"
"Said on the news they're cracking down on all movement in the city. Alec's gotten pretty good at sliming away from the law." Max looked down at him, eyes tender despite her 'no arguments' demeanor. "Besides, Asha trusts him. For some reason."
Logan closed his eyes briefly, setting his jaw. When he opened them again, he stood up and met her gaze, speaking in a tightly controlled voice. "Fine. I'll take Alec. But for the record, I don't think it's a good idea."
"Noted," she said, voice still hard but shoulders relaxing.
He looked over her shoulder down at Alec, who was still standing on the lower level. "We're leaving at eight tomorrow morning," he snapped. "Don't be late."
Alec gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir." Logan stepped around Max and left the room, and Alec laughed. "Wouldn't want to piss him off even more, now, would I?"
"Shut up," Max told him.
ACT II
San Francisco Waterfront
In an abandoned warehouse, Syl sat in front of one of several tables of various types of electronic and computer equipment. Her attention was focused on one computer screen in particular, when suddenly she jumped to her feet, gun in her hand, and pointed it toward one of the doors. The doorknob turned, and Syl hopped behind the tables and took cover.
The door opened slowly. Krit saw Syl crouched behind a table with her gun out, pointed at him. Krit and Lydecker stopped in their tracks.
"Geez, Syl, it's us. Take it easy and put that gun down," he said as he walked in. "I'm getting tired of people pointing guns at me today."
Syl lowered her gun and placed it on a table.
"It's about damn time you got back," she exclaimed.
Lydecker ignored them and walked over to one of the computers. He grabbed a chair, sat down, and slid the disc he had gotten from Krit into the computer.
"Maybe if you do your job right next time, there won't be any guns pointed at you," Syl teased.
"Stop being a smartass," Krit returned. "I got what we needed."
"Yeah, but you still screwed up. By the way," Syl raised her voice. "Seattle was on the news again. They're still trying to round up the transgenics. Seems they've called in the National Guard."
Lydecker turned around in his chair and looked at Syl.
"Any news on Max?" he asked.
"No. They showed her picture again, but that's about it. Why?"
"Were you able to contact any more of your team?" Lydecker asked, ignoring Syl's last question.
"Yeah. Zane and Jondy," Syl replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. "You're always asking about her. You gonna answer my question about what's up with you and Max?"
"No." He looked directly at Syl. "And I advise you not to pursue that line of questioning again."
A heavy silence filled the room.
"Whatever," Syl replied, rolling her eyes. "Keep your little secret for now. See if I care."
Still staring at Syl, Lydecker asked, "The other two…when will they get here?"
"Hey, I never said they were coming. They aren't exactly thrilled with the idea of working with you, and I can't say I blame them. Besides, they think we should be heading to Seattle."
"Fine, then, we proceed without them."
Syl's jaw tightened, and she shot Lydecker a look, but kept her mouth shut.
Krit spoke up. "What is it with you and this Sandeman anyway? If you worked together, why didn't you stay in touch?"
"We had differing opinions."
"But you need him now…" Krit countered.
Lydecker folded his arms and, with a hint of amusement in his voice, corrected Krit, "Actually, it's Max who needs him."
"All right, so Max needs him," Syl conceded. "Zane and Jondy were right, we should go to Seattle."
"Sandeman's not in Seattle."
"He can't do Max any good if she gets caught," Syl reasoned. "The National Guard has everyone surrounded."
A series of beeps sounded from the computer behind Lydecker. Reaching into a jacket pocket, he pulled out his glasses and put them on. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Syl and Krit one last look before he turned around and began typing on the keyboard.
"Max is very capable of handling that for now," Lydecker stated. "First we deal with the good doctor, then Seattle."
Living Quarters, Terminal City - Saturday Morning
Gem tried to ignore the crying baby as she sat hunched over a worktable, doing her best to splice together two razor-thin wires. A frustrated look crossed her face as she peered closer at the tarnished copper.
"You know, Elfie," she said, using the baby as a sounding board while trying to quiet her, "I knew there was a reason I specialized in undercover ops and not surveillance. Mole must've been smoking a different kind of cigar when he thought we could use these old wires in our communications grid."
After picking unsuccessfully at the rubber that encased one of the strands, Gem used the scalpel lying on the table to peel away the material. At that moment, the baby let out a horrific shriek, in an attempt to get her mother's attention. All she succeeded in doing, however, was distracting Gem just enough for her to slice a deep cut in her thumb.
Swearing, she dropped the scalpel and jumped up to grab a rag lying on her bed to wrap around her finger. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she went over and yanked open the door to reveal Joshua, who had his hand on the knob. He jumped in surprise.
"Joshua." Gem breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, I just cut my thumb. Gotta go see Aveta. Can you stay with Elfie till I get back?" She looked back nervously at the beat-up wooden desk drawer that served as a crib.
"Me? You want Joshua to…to baby sit?" Joshua had heard Original Cindy use the term, but it rolled awkwardly off his lips, and Gem smiled hesitantly.
"Uh, yeah. It'll just be for a little while. I think this…" she waved her wrapped hand in the air, "…needs stitches."
Joshua shuffled from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair. "Okay…okay, Gem. Joshua can baby sit. Don't know how to change diapers, though."
"That's okay, big guy. Elfie's just sleepy. Maybe you can pick her up and rock her to sleep. I'll be back as soon as I can." Reaching up to pat Joshua on the shoulder with her good hand, Gem smiled again and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Joshua to stare in apprehension at the drawer in the corner of the room, from which a loud wail emerged.
The Sewers Underneath Seattle
Alec pushed open the heavy iron manhole cover at the top of the ladder and peeked out, checking for signs of life or hoverdrones. Satisfied, he ducked back in and looked down at Logan. "Okay, let's do this."
Logan nodded tensely and grabbed the next rung of the ladder. They quickly and carefully climbed out into the sunlight, making sure to fit the cover back on the drainpipe securely so as not to alert passersby or sector cops.
"Hey, how's my barcode?" Alec asked, pulling down his turned-up collar.
"Fine. You know, you might want to check that little detail before we leave next time," Logan said curtly.
"Yeah, well, not much I can do about it, anyway," Alec muttered. "Forgot to bring my laser with me when we hightailed it into Hades."
In silence, they walked down the trash-littered alley. Logan strode purposefully toward the market just ahead. They could hear people moving along the sidewalk and vendors calling out.
Alec looked nervously over at Logan, then stopped, grabbing his sleeve. Logan stopped and turned almost violently, with an irritated look on his face. "What? We don't have a lot of time here."
"Yeah, listen, Logan, I know you know and you know I know, so let's just clear the air, huh? I'm not used to getting death glares from anyone but Max, and I'd rather keep it that way," Alec said with a hint of a joking smile on his face.
Logan breathed a frustrated sigh. "Okay, you want to know what I think, Alec? I think I've defended you to Max since the day you walked into my apartment and almost killed me. So I'm wondering why you didn't tell me the truth that day at Joshua's."
Alec opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again contritely, appearing to think before he spoke. "You're right. Hey, man, I went there to tell you. But…then I just figured it should come from her, not me." He grinned again. "And you were stomping firewood into little bits at the time, you know."
Logan sighed angrily, turned away, then stopped and whirled around. "Here's a tip, Alec. Real life isn't like Manticore. Out here you make friends by earning their trust, not by blindly following orders. Just for future reference." Although his face was hard, his tone had relented.
"Hey, it was your Manticore alum that dragged me into your twisted little soap opera and then forced me to go along with it. Come on, Logan, I know you've forgiven Max. Isn't it time to let it go? I know, I'll do your latrine duty for a week, whaddya say? Huh?"
Logan impassively regarded the younger man. After a moment, he sighed again and gave a resigned laugh as he turned away. "Come on. I wanted to pick up something at the market before we meet Asha."
Living Quarters, Terminal City
Joshua edged closer to the drawer where Elfie was sleeping, with a hopeful expression on his face. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and he sighed in relief. Then, somewhere down the hall, a door slammed loudly, and instantly the baby began to cry again. Joshua jumped in fear and backed away from the crib. He began to pace up and down in the small bunkroom.
"What can Joshua do? Not good with babies." He continued mumbling to himself, then suddenly stopped in front of the crib. Slowly, carefully, he sniffed the air using his acute canine olfactory sense. Startled, he sniffed again, grimacing, then looked down at the baby with a horrified expression on his face.
"Oh, no…" he breathed.
A few minutes later, Original Cindy came down the hall, accompanied by a teenage X6 male. Her face was scrunched into a disgusted sneer, obviously unhappy with her current condition. She was wearing long, thick, black rubber gloves, carrying a mop in one hand and a bucket filled with cleaning supplies in the other. "That's the last time Original Cindy trips on a damn fine lickety-boo who's trying to sweet talk her into givin' up her cushy mess hall duty so she can scrub some medieval toilet," she muttered as much to herself as to the young soldier walking a half step behind.
"Um, ma'am? It's called a latrine," the X6 said hesitantly. "And…what's a lickety-boo?" the kid repeated in a confused voice. "I never heard that term at Manticore."
"Ask me when you're legal," Cindy retorted saucily. "And don't be callin' me 'ma'am'. Original Cindy ain't catchin' none o' that." They stopped in front of a closet and eagerly unloaded their supplies.
Hearing a commotion from the bunkroom behind them, Original Cindy recognized Joshua's grunting and whining, and rolled her eyes at the X6 before she stepped across the hall. "I got this, baby. You just go ten-hut the guys keeping tabs so they know we done our good deed for the day."
She waited till he was gone, then pushed open the door to see Joshua holding a carton of cornstarch, which Gem had been using as baby powder. He had managed to douse himself with it, and was furiously shaking his head and growling. The baby was lying on one of the cots, gurgling happily. She was stark naked, a dirty diaper rolled into a bundle off to the side.
Original Cindy cracked up laughing, and Joshua jumped again, realizing someone was in the room. "Cindy! You have to help Joshua. Gem cut her finger, had to go see Aveta. She said no diapers, baby just sleeping, but then Joshua smelled it and…" He scrunched up his nose and glanced over helplessly at the baby, then back at his friend, his eyes imploring her to help.
"Don't look at me. Original Cindy don't know nothin' 'bout changin' no diapers. One of the reasons I play for the all-girl team, all that typical male pressure to pop out a crying little mini-me." But the tender look on her face as she walked over to the child belied her harsh words. She turned to Joshua and held out her hand. "Gimme that. That stuff goes on her butt, not on your face."
Together they managed to arrange a fresh cloth diaper on her tiny body, and soon Elfie was fast asleep in Original Cindy's arms. Joshua sat timidly next to her and stared at her over the sheet she was wrapped in.
"Those people…out there," Joshua began, looking out the small, grimy window in the back of the room. "They don't see how we're just like them. Babies are just like them."
"Nah, boo, it don't matter to them how much like them you are. You were made in a lab, that's all they see. Scares 'em."
"Doesn't scare you," Joshua pointed out.
"True, but Original Cindy got the lowdown on you. None of them knows any of you, and people are scared of what they don't know."
"I know, I know." Joshua sighed.
Original Cindy looked at Joshua sympathetically. "Hey, you're the one s'pposed to be doin' the babysitting here." At that, she stood and placed the baby in Joshua's hulking arms. "You're an uncle, boo," she declared.
Joshua looked frightened, but then relaxed a little and smiled at Cindy. He looked down at the baby, and laughed. "An uncle," he repeated happily, then looked up at her in confusion. "What's an uncle?"
Cindy just laughed and rolled her eyes.
Outdoor Market, Sector 9
They'd almost reached the agreed upon meeting place when Logan caught sight of Asha's tall, slender build and blonde hair. He grabbed Alec's shirt to stop him. "Okay, there she is. You stay here and play lookout. I'll just be a minute."
"Fine by me. Asha's not my biggest fan right now, anyway," Alec muttered. Logan gave him a strange look and started to ask, but then just shrugged and turned away. Alec halfway turned to the stall closest to him and pretended to pick through the fake Rolex watches, all the while keeping his senses on high alert.
"Asha," Logan said in a low voice as he approached, and she turned, startled.
"Oh, Logan, it's so good to see you. I'm so glad you're okay," Asha said, throwing her arms around him. Logan stiffened involuntarily.
Asha backed off. Logan gave her a quick smile then flicked his eyes nervously off to the left to see if Alec had seen them. Asha followed the movement and saw the transgenic watching them. Alec's eyebrows jumped at her and he smiled. "What's he doing here?" she asked Logan, sounding irritated.
"Chaperone," he replied shortly. "So you were able to get my stuff?"
"Oh, yeah." Remembering, Asha twisted around to pull a thick envelope out of her backpack, then handed it to him. "Good as new."
Logan took it and stuck it quickly inside his own backpack. "Thanks, Asha. I really appreciate it. Did it look like anybody had been in there?"
"Nobody other than you," she replied.
"Okay. Listen, I have another favor to ask. It's big."
"You know I'll do what I can. But Logan, why are you still in there? Terminal City is…they're saying on the news that it's toxic. And…it's dangerous. This thing can't end well."
"I know but…I have to do what I can. Max and I…we're…"
Logan trailed off, but Asha understood what he was trying to gently tell her, and she nodded, forcing a smile. "I told you she'd come around," she said quietly. She dropped her eyes to the ground, and suddenly looked back up at him, her eyes meeting his in confusion. "You're…where's the exoskeleton?"
Logan looked down then, too, and shrugged. "Long story. Joshua's blood, the transfusion, repaired my spinal cord."
"Wow, that's great, Logan. I'm happy for you."
"Thanks. Listen, about that favor. Need you to get hold of some things for us." Logan handed her a list, which she scanned. She looked up at him with a skeptical expression.
"I can try, but some of this stuff is really expensive, even with the S1W's contacts," Asha admitted.
"There's an address there where I have some art in storage, and the customer ID number so they'll let you in. Take whatever you need and fence it."
Asha nodded. "Like I said, I'll try. And I'll need some time. Tell me how to get into Terminal City and I'll bring it to you."
Logan shook his head. "Too risky. Besides, like you said, it's pretty messy in there. If you can get the stuff by tomorrow, I can meet you again. Same time, same place."
"Okay. I'll call you if I have any trouble." Asha looked up at him. "Tell Max 'hi' for me. And Logan, take care."
He nodded and she disappeared into the crowd as Alec approached him, keeping his head down. "Sector cop at two o'clock," he said in a low voice, right near Logan's ear. "Let's do a little more shopping before we head back, give this guy a chance to find the nearest doughnut stall."
"Yeah." The two men strolled casually from stall to stall, pretending not to notice the cop who was standing on the corner, surveying the scene, baton in hand. Finally, he started moving in their direction. Alec and Logan both held their breath and tensed, ready to run at the slightest sign of recognition, but the cop passed within feet of them and continued on his way. As soon as he turned the corner, they looked around and headed back toward the alley and the sewer pipe that would take them back to Terminal City.
Police Headquarters, Detective Clemente's Office
"Ah, Agent White, so good to see you again…I hope that duct tape didn't burn too much when you ripped it off," the detective said with a mocking grin. From the way White glared at him in return, it was clear there was little love lost between the two men. "I'm sure you've heard the mayor's put me in charge of the situation, with the full support of the governor." He emphasized the last word, remembering how smug White had been showing him the governor's letter at the Jam Pony hostage situation. Now the tables were turned. "There something I can help you with?"
"Actually, I'm here to help you." Ames White forced the words out despite the intense dislike clogging his throat. He dropped a manila folder onto the detective's desk, where it landed with a loud thump.
"What's this?" Clemente picked it up and flipped through it, then looked back up at the man in the expensive suit and trench coat standing in front of him with a barely disguised disdainful sneer. "How'd you get this information?"
"That's none of your concern," White snapped. "This man fired a weapon at law enforcement officers, then fought alongside the transgenics to overcome my team and escape with the hostages. I've brought you proof of that so you can put his picture on every lamppost in the city. We're bringing federal charges against him. I'll expect you to let me know as soon as you have him in custody."
Clemente regarded him stonily. Then he nodded shortly. "Thank you, Special Agent White. I'll look into it." His tone was dismissive.
White seemed ready to say something else, but decided against it. He almost bumped into Matt Sung as he strode out of the detective's office. They exchanged passing glances, as White continued on his way, brushing roughly past Sung.
"What was he doing here?"
Clemente silently handed him the folder, and Matt flipped through, trying to disguise his shock and anger. Clear pictures of Logan jumping onto the police car, gun in hand, aiming at the snipers in the building above. Driver's license, credit record, newspaper articles about Cale Industries, even blueprints of his apartment. Articles he'd written over the years for various underground publications, harshly criticizing the military government, uncovering embarrassing scandals.
Matt's voice was tight. "The press will have a field day with this."
Clemente sighed. "I know. And I know he's guilty of aiding and abetting, and probably assaulting an officer, but damned if I wouldn't have done the same thing in his shoes. Those guys were going to shoot randomly. No way they could know which were the transgenics."
Matt managed a smile. "Most of them, anyway."
The two men looked at each other for a few moments. "Put our men on alert, distribute his picture to the National Guard and the sector police, beat cops. We only want him for questioning at this point. No need to get somebody riled up, ready to shoot first and ask questions later. And no press. We don't want any more vigilantism, especially against a regular citizen."
Matt let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "I…" He trailed off, trying to decide whether or not to continue. "I'll get on this right now." He made an about-face and headed to the door.
"Detective Sung," the detective's bass voice rang out, and Matt stopped in his tracks. "Is there something else you wanted to say?"
Matt took a breath but didn't turn around. His face showed indecision and guilt and he knew it. "No, sir." He forced a small smile and turned.
Clemente regarded him much as he had Agent White a few minutes before. "Let me know what else you can dig up on our friend, Mr. Cale."
Sung nodded briefly and closed the door on the way out.
ACT III
S1W Headquarters - Lunchtime Saturday
Asha entered and closed the door carefully behind her, to the greetings of her fellow S1W members. She turned around, removed a thick envelope from its position next to the gun in her holster, and plopped it on the coffee table. The other members stared at it, then at her.
"Asha, what's going on? Why'd you call us here?" one of them asked.
"We need to get some ammo," she answered, choosing to remain standing rather than sit down with them. "I promised Logan we'd get hold of some for him. This money's his."
"What does Logan need with the amount of ammo this will buy?" said a brown-haired guy. "As I recall, he just carries a pistol."
"He asked me for a favor and I agreed to it," Asha answered. "Isn't that enough?"
"Doing him a favor sure didn't help us any earlier this year," he argued, standing up to tower over her. "We spent months in hiding because of that little stunt he had us pull at the VA office. If that White guy hadn't gone on TV in front of the Senate and outed the transgenics, we'd still be running with our tails between our legs. Or have you forgotten that?"
"Of course not," she snapped. "I also haven't forgotten all the times he's helped us, including when we got arrested and he bailed us out. Not to mention all the stuff he's given to Eyes Only for us. We're lucky to work so closely with an Eyes Only operative and you know it."
"Eyes Only," a blonde guy snorted. "I bet he's one of those transgenics anyway."
Asha whirled to face him incredulously. "What?"
"Think about it, Asha. The guy never shows his face. He spends all his time defending them, and then he disappears during the hearings, just before they're outed? What does that tell you?"
"It tells me I'm going to be getting that ammo myself," she snorted, grabbing the envelope and heading for the door. "Anybody who's still got a head on their shoulders is welcome to join me."
Seattle Street
Later, while walking toward their car on their way to purchase ammunition, Asha and a couple of her colleagues passed by a group of police. "Keep an eye out for this guy," the leader of the group was telling the other cops, showing them a piece of paper. "Logan Cale."
Asha's eyes widened. She whispered to her colleagues that she'd catch up later, then casually slowed her pace and circled back, pretending to look into a shop window.
The cop continued, "…aiding and abetting. It's not supposed to be publicized, so no 'wanted' posters. If news catches word and you're interviewed, you got no comment. We just want him for questioning."
Asha remained frozen in place until the group of cops dispersed, then caught up to her own group as quickly and as inconspicuously as she could. "Plans have changed," she told them. "They got wind of Logan's underground action. I'm going to have to take this stuff to him tonight."
Terminal City - Saturday Afternoon
Max was walking down one of Terminal City's inner streets. It was raining steadily, and she was soaked through, her hair now clinging to her ears and shoulders. A low rumble of thunder sounded as she spotted a figure leaving a building nearby.
"Logan!" she called out to him.
Logan looked over and left the shelter of the building's overhang. He was carrying some computer parts, doing his best to keep them covered with part of his jacket. "Hey, Max," he greeted her when he got close enough for conversation.
"Hey. I see you made it back all right." Logan had his collar upturned and was hunching a bit in an unconscious but vain attempt to stay dry. Max had long ago given up, and stood unflinching in the rain.
"Yep. Sure did."
"Did Alec? I mean, you didn't drown him on the way or anything?"
Logan chuckled. "Alec's okay. But let's just say there's a reason I'm not doing latrine duty right now."
"Ye reap what ye sow," Max said with a grin, and gestured to the bulge under Logan's jacket. "What's all this?"
"Just some extra hardware I found…" As Logan reached up and removed his fogged-up glasses, a piece of equipment slipped out of his grasp and dropped to the wet ground. He and Max simultaneously bent down and reached for it. They came within inches of each other, Logan's bare hand nearly touching the part of Max's hand not covered by her gloves. As soon as Max realized what had nearly happened, she jumped back in horror, leaving Logan to pick up the part.
"What are you doing?!" she demanded. "Where are your gloves?"
"Back in my room," he answered a bit testily, rearranging the items under his jacket to get a better grip. "Can't wear 'em all the time."
"You'd be safer."
"Max, notwithstanding the fact that human hands were not designed to be covered in powder and latex 24/7, I gave the majority of my supply to Aveta. Supplies are low. She and her techs need them more than I do."
"What?" Max's voice was incredulous and laced with annoyance. "You could end up in a pine box without them! You don't call that need?"
"Much as I would like to hold you right now, I don't think it's right for me to let other people die for it," Logan hissed, his voice low. A flash of lightning overtook the sky, emphasizing the fire in his eyes. Her face took on the half-smile, half-sneer she often used when firing one of her inevitable sarcastic replies.
"I'm sure they're thanking God for your sense of justice as they lie in mortal danger from a paper cut."
He exhaled, still adamant. "Fine. But you know as well as I do we're low on antibiotics and God knows what else. Any little infection could get big in a hurry. Better safe than sorry."
"Now you get it!" Max snapped.
Logan looked taken aback. He stood silent for a few moments, his anger suddenly gone, as rain cascaded off his ears and the end of his nose.
Her point made, Max dropped her shoulders and spoke in a much softer tone. "I just don't want you to die on me."
"Trust me," Logan quietly promised, looking into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."
Rec Center
Late that afternoon, an X-series entered and headed straight for the beer fridge. He pulled out a beer and had it open before the spiny female transgenic who had been keeping an eye on the fridge could stop him.
"Hey," she objected, yanking the beer out of the man's hand. "Does it look like sundown to you?"
"Does it look like I care?" the male retorted. "I just spent six hours setting up more living quarters and water lines, not to mention ripping out old toilets. You guys sure didn't have much concern for creature comforts before we came along. I'm having a beer."
The spiny transgenic blocked the way to the fridge with her large body and snarled. "That's easy for you to say. Before this siege started, you were able to go wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted. You ask me, it's made you spoiled."
"You're calling me spoiled? I've spent the last ten months living hand to mouth out there."
"Boo-hoo. We've had to sneak around to get what we needed, or else make do with what we've got. Now we gotta share it with you creeps, who are too arrogant to understand that you're living in our space?"
"Now wait a minute." The X-series drew himself up to his full height, eyes flashing and looking up at her. "Terminal City is open to any transgenic who needs it."
"Wrong," the beer guard hissed, contempt oozing from her voice. "You Xs are staying here because we freaks are letting you. And as long as you're here, you follow the rules. Back off!"
By this time, the two were standing nose-to-nose, glaring at each other, and the other occupants of the rec center had gathered round. Some had chosen sides, Xs standing behind the male and inhuman-looking transgenics standing behind the female.
It was through this crowd that Joshua's loud voice boomed, "Enough!"
The subsequent wailing of a baby was the only sound as the small crowd parted to let him through. The X-series and the spiny transgenic both stared at the large man now standing in front of them, holding an infant to his shoulder and patting her on the back. He began to speak in a quiet but emphatic voice.
"Enough fighting. It doesn't matter, X or freak. We're people. She's people." At this he indicated the still crying child. "She doesn't need to grow up hearing this…this arguing."
"Kid's gonna learn about it sometime or another," the X-series muttered, chastised, kicking a stray penny on the floor.
"But we don't have to show her." Joshua's voice grew calmer and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Original Cindy, standing unnoticed in the doorway, smiled as well. "Manticore didn't give us childhoods. They taught us to have enemies. But we can get along."
"I hope you're right," the spiny transgenic said, her voice still harsh but her fingers gently stroking the baby's cheek. Then she headed out of the rec center, walking backward to finish what she was saying with a concerned nod toward the perimeter. "I hope they let us."
San Francisco - A warehouse on the waterfront
Lydecker was seated in front of the computer, still busy working with the information on the disc. The only disturbance was the whispers coming from Krit and Syl, who were seated on the opposite side of the room.
"How much longer do you think he'll be working on that?" Krit asked, nodding his head over in Lydecker's direction.
"Beats me," Syl shrugged, as she filed her fingernails. "Why don't you go ask him?"
Krit shook his head. "I don't think so," he answered, all kidding aside.
Syl laughed. "Don't let him get to you," she said, looking over at Lydecker who was still perched in front of the computer. She turned her attention back to her nails. "He thrives on that."
"Yeah, I know," Krit mumbled. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "But you got to admit, the man gets to you."
Their conversation was interrupted when Lydecker got up from his chair and headed in their direction. They both watched him as he walked over.
"Speak of the devil," Syl muttered under her breath.
"Well?" Krit asked as Lydecker approached.
The look on Lydecker's face was not a happy one. He stopped a good five feet away from them, and his gaze fell upon Krit. He took off his glasses.
"The information is going to be helpful to a certain extent," Lydecker began. He played with his glasses, which he now held in his hands. "It wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it will have to do."
"It sure as hell 'better do'," Syl interrupted, raising her voice. "You said it would have what you needed."
"Yeah, I got shot at for that information," Krit replied, pointing over at the computers. "So, why don't you tell us what's on the disc? We're getting tired of being kept in the dark."
Lydecker sighed. He glared at Krit for a moment before turning his back on both of them. He took a few steps away from them before speaking.
"The information you got is only one piece of the puzzle. I'm still putting all of this together. This kind of operation takes time if it's to be done right," he paused before continuing. "You'll be filled in at the appropriate time."
"We're wasting time playing your games, Lydecker. So, you say Sandeman has some answers we need. Great. Fine. I'm sure he's seen the news about the transgenics in Seattle. Let him come to us," Syl exclaimed.
"It doesn't work that way," Lydecker reasoned.
"Well, then, we'll make it work that way. Hell, we could have been in Seattle by now where we could really be helping!" Syl yelled.
Lydecker turned around, his anger evident by the look on his face, but he spoke calmly. "Doing what? Taking turns playing sentry while the other one tries to figure out how long the supply of rodents will last?"
Syl was out of her chair and heading for Lydecker, intent on knocking him across the room. Krit was caught off guard by her sudden move, but managed to catch up to her before she got to Lydecker.
Lydecker didn't move. He didn't flinch at all as Syl was bearing down on him, standing his ground the whole time.
Krit reached forward and grabbed Syl by the arm, pulling her back a few feet away from Lydecker.
The warehouse fell silent except for the whirr of electronic equipment in the background. Lydecker stared at the two of them. The seconds seemed to stretch into hours.
Lydecker broke the silence. "You'd better keep those emotions in che
