ARCHIVE: No

It was storming outside. Max waited until Lydecker was sleeping, then she slipped from beneath the covers and quietly went into the cheap hotel's bathroom. Closing the door, she knelt in front of the foul smelling toilet, lifted the lid, and, holding her long dark hair out of the way with one hand, vomited the contents of her stomach, purging her body in the only way she could. Finally, when she could taste only bile and the retching was over, she slid down onto the cold chipped, stained tile floor to lie curled in a fetal position, naked, shivering, feeling as if her soul as well as her body had just been raped.

Lightening flashed, reminding her painfully of another night just like this one, only her sexual partner that time had been someone she loved, even if she hadn't admitted it to herself yet. It had been the beginning of something beautiful. This ... this was just the beginning of the end.

"I suppose you'd like to kill me," the colonel said from behind her.

Max looked up, her brown eyes listless. "I wanted some privacy," she said tonelessly.

"Too bad," Lydecker replied matter-of-factly. He was naked as well, his hard lean body illuminated by the glow of the parking lot lights shining through the bathroom's single high window, his chest hair white against the tan of his skin.

The sight of his now flaccid cock made vomit rise again in Max's throat.

"If I don't report in by 0600," Lydecker said quietly, "the chief surgeon at New Manticore has orders."

"What orders?" she asked dully.

"Orders to put him down -- provided, of course, he survived the night. Killing me might feel good, Max. But you'll have lost him forever."

"I've lost him forever, anyway," she murmured, more to herself than to Lydecker, thinking how she could never go back to Alec now -- not after this horrible night ... not after what she'd done. He'd be so disgusted with her ...

"Not necessarily," Lydecker said, not unkindly. "At least you'll know he's alive. I'll even let you see him someday -- from afar of course."

Max realized what Lydecker was saying and her head shot up. "You're going to keep Alec?"

Lydecker chuckled. "Of course I'm going to keep him. Why else would I go to all the trouble of saving his rebellious X5 hide?"

"He's no good to you," Max said desperately. "He'll never be one of your soldiers again. He'll die rather than be caged. What use would he be?"

Again the knowing laugh. "Don't you realize by now, Max, that every one of you is worth a fortune, even if you're doing nothing more than breathing? Your kind are the most advanced, biological weapons systems on Earth. Rogue tendencies and failed re-indoctrination aside, none of the later series even came close to matching the physical and mental capabilities of the X5's. I'm sure, given time and the proper ... persuasions ... I can flip 494's soldier-mode switch back on. He's been programmed his entire life, you know -- ten years longer than you. That kind of conditioning can't be forgotten or suppressed forever. He'll be mine again. I just need to find the right buttons to push in his brain."

"Let Alec go," Max implored. "Let him come back to his people ... his family and--"

"And what?"

"And I'll stay with you," she whispered, the words almost impossible to get out. "I'll do whatever you want."

"You've already done everything I wanted," Lydecker said, a pleased smirk on his face. "You were just what I imagined and more." His eyes traveled over her nude body.

"But Alec's worth more to you than me, isn't he?" Max said, realizing she was fighting a losing battle, but getting to her feet anyway. "You wanted me for a night. But you want him for a lifetime."

"Exactly," Lydecker said. "Not that it wouldn't be advantageous to keep you as well. And I probably could, too -- with you knowing that your mate gets a needle full of poison in the neck if you ever step out of line. But I don't want a slave, Max -- at least not a sexual one. And our bargain was for one night. You're free to go."

Just then Lydecker's cell rang in the bedroom. Walking over to the chair by the window, he plucked the phone from his jacket, answered, and listened a moment. Max's heart constricted when she saw his face grow grim.

Ending the call, he turned to Max who was now standing in the bathroom doorway, supporting herself on the frame. Outside lightening flashed once more, casting sudden shadows in the otherwise dark room. "It looks like we won't be keeping 494 after all," he said softly.

Max just stared at him.

"That was our hospital chief of staff. X5-494 underwent open heart surgery at 0200, but went into cardiac arrest at 0525. They were unable to resuscitate. Superb physique not withstanding, his body just couldn't take any more." He regarded her a moment, his blue eyes once again surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry, Max," he said. "I know you loved him. And, in spite of that damnable attitude of his, he was one of the best specimens we ever created."

"So, all of this was for nothing," she said quietly. Her eyes met the colonel's, and a predatory, slightly insane smile formed on her lips. "At least now there's nothing to stop me from killing you."

"Except the fate of your people," Lydecker said.

Max tilted her head slightly, wondering what he meant.

"We failed 494, but that doesn't mean you won't need New Manticore resources in the future," Lydecker pointed out. "If you kill me, you'll never receive any help from us again. I'm your only access."

Much as she hated to admit it, Max knew the man was right. Killing him now would only hurt her family. And, besides, he still hadn't revealed the information about her mother ...

Lydecker was watching her closely. "Aren't you going to question if I'm lying about 494?" he asked.

"Why would you lie?"

"I could tell you he's dead, when he isn't. That way you'd never be looking for him, or trying to help him escape."

Max conceded the point. "So," she said with a shrug. "Show me his body." Visions of what had happened to Zack haunted her -- how Manticore scientists had turned that wonderful, brave young man into a nightmare cyborg experiment -- a Frankenstein monster. What if they were planning something grotesque like that for Alec?

"He's already been harvested."

Max winced, the bile once more rising in her throat. "I don't care," she said firmly. "I need to see him."

"All right," Lydecker said. "I'll make the call and take you to the base."

"Where you'll make me a prisoner, too?" Max snapped.

"No," Lydecker promised. "Not this time. You've held up your end of the bargain, Max." He glanced over at the rumpled bed with its semen stained sheets. "Now, I'll hold up mine. It's the least I can do since you went through all this and he died anyway. Get dressed. I'll take you to him."

*****

The helicopter trip was four hours long. She wasn't sure what state they were in. North Dakota maybe from the looks of the mountains? The New Manticore base had been built using the same plans as the old one in Wyoming, the building and grounds almost identical, right down to the 12-foot concertina wire-topped fences around the perimeter, patrolled by X7s Lydecker informed her. It made Max shudder just to look at the place.

Flashing his badge at various checkpoints along the way, Lydecker escorted her deep into the main facility, down several flights of stairs, and along a dark echoing hallway to the hospital morgue. There, a bloody body lay stretched on an autopsy table. The lab techs hadn't even bothered with the dignity of a sheet for what, to them, was simply a piece of meat. Naked, his skin tinged blue, Alec had been gutted like a fish, his torso sliced open from sternum to pubic bone, all of his organs removed.

They'd even gouged out his beautiful hazel eyes ...

Gagging, her fingers over her mouth to suppress a scream, the dizziness hit Max in a wave, her world spinning then darkening as she grabbed the doorframe. Lydecker's hand beneath her arm made her skin crawl, but she didn't have the strength to shake him off.

"Max?" he said, seemingly from very far away. "Are you all right? I thought you knew what to expect. I told you he'd been harvested."

"Just ... just bury him," she choked out, turning away from the horrific site of her butchered lover. And then she fainted.

*****

An hour later -- after the helicopter had left taking an extremely shaken 452 back to Seattle, Lydecker stood in the New Manticore hospital wing, watching an X5 soldier lying in a bed. The young transgenic was hooked up to numerous monitors, I.V.s, and oxygen lines, but his breathing was normal, the beat of his repaired heart strong.

"Your plan was clever," a woman's voice said from behind the colonel.

Lydecker turned and faced Melissa Brown, New Manticore's chief financial backer and CEO of the Committee. The blue beret with pink feather's she sported (a perfect match for her Armani jacket and skirt) was actually one of Ms. Brown's more modest millinery creations. In Lydecker's experience, her hats were usually a bit more ... bizarre.

"452 won't bother us any more," she continued. "Now that she's convinced her lover's dead." She walked to the bedside of the critically injured, but recovering, X5, her hand trailing possessively along one lean hard sheet-covered leg, stopping when she reached a certain point, her fingers lingering. "And even if 494 can't be reconditioned to be used for field work--" She looked up at Lydecker, smiling, her too perfect white teeth glowing in the darkened hospital room. "--there's still the breeding program. His spunk alone is worth a million dollars an ounce."

Lydecker cleared his throat, trying to ignore Ms. Brown's lascivious behavior and words. "I always knew Ben's body would be useful someday," he said. "That's why I ordered his carcass preserved rather than buried. Max was totally convinced that was 494 in the morgue."

"As I said," Ms. Brown repeated. "I don't believe we need to worry any more about 452. And now ..." Her strange blue eyes once more raked the young man lying in the bed. "Now, I finally have him."

"He won't be easy to handle," Lydecker warned. "Not once he recovers. Even though he's hard core Manticore, this one's always had an attitude problem ... a rebellious streak, plus he's been on the outside for twenty months."

"Let him heal," Ms. Brown said. "Let him regain his strength. Then--" Her voice hardened. "Break him. Do whatever you have to do, but break him. I want him compliant ... malleable ... docile and obedient."

"And if he won't break?" Lydecker asked. "494's already been through reindoctrination twice and it never made a damn bit of difference. A rogue alpha X5 could be a real liability on base. Especially one who'll be trying to escape all the time -- get back to someone he loves."

"Then we'll lobotomize him and keep him solely for breeding," Ms. Brown said coldly. "But hopefully ..." She reached up, ran long red-nailed fingers fondly through Alec's soft dark blonde hair, and sighed. "Hopefully, it won't come to that. Hopefully, you'll find a way to persuade his cooperation."

Lydecker nodded. He had an idea just where to start.

*****

He noticed the smell first: antiseptic ... sterile ... the whiff of something pungent and nasty. And he was cold -- his feet felt like ice, his hands too. He tried to move his arm, wanting to curl up for warmth, but he couldn't. Something was wrapped around his wrist.

And that's when Alec opened his eyes.

No! Please no! Silently he pleaded with ... something. Please not this again! Why did the powers of creation hate him so much?

Alec had always scoffed at religion, considering Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, and other sects at best interesting fables based on vague, exaggerated historic facts, and at worst cults that ordinaries used as crutches because they were emotionally too weak to exist on their own. His personal ego was way too big to entertain the possibility of a higher being controlling his destiny. However, that had been before his heart had stopped beating and his eyes had stared sightlessly into another plane of existence. That had been before he'd died.

He'd been so warm and safe, floating in-- He couldn't describe the feeling. There just weren't words for it. But all of his worries and fears had been gone. He'd been surrounded by (people? beings?) who loved him unconditionally, and he knew he'd never have to be alone again.

But something had kept intruding on his Paradise -- tugging, nagging, pulling him back, like a voice calling him from very far away that had gotten closer and closer.

And then suddenly he'd been -- here.

Alec looked down at his wrist with bleary eyes, and saw the cuff leashing him to the solid steel bed frame. His other hand, as well as his ankles, were similarly restrained.

Shit.

Concentrating, he tried to remember. It took a few moments for his abused brain synapses to find their electrical paths again -- everything seemed strangely blank -- but at last his keen mind began to clear. In flashes he recalled Steelheads opening fire on TC's market. From the feel of his aching chest and his difficulty breathing, he deduced he'd been shot, apparently badly so. Without moving his head, Alec let his eyes roam around the room, taking in the elaborate monitors and medical equipment, the thin linen sheet covering the lower half of his body, the empty white walls ... This certainly wasn't TC's infirmary, nor was it likely to be a Seattle hospital. They ... Max probably ... had brought him--"

"Welcome back, 494," a chillingly familiar voice said from the doorway.

Alec quickly closed his eyes, wishing it was within his power to simply die again. But Heaven was already fading from his memory like a wispy, elusive dream leaving only the cold harsh reality of Manticore.

Lydecker sauntered into the room. Leaning over the bed, his lips mere inches from Alec's face, he softly said, "You're mine again now, soldier. Just like I always said you'd be." With a thin cold smile that matched the sadistic twinkle in his icy blue eyes he added, "And don't think you're going to lie your way out of this one, 494. I'm well aware of that preternatural charisma and charm the geneticists gifted you with. And it won't work on me. As far as I'm concerned, every word out of your mouth is suspect. If you don't cooperate, you'll be tortured. If you pretend to cooperate, you'll be tortured. And if you truly do cooperate -- well, I'm afraid you'll be tortured then too because you see, 494, I'll never be able to trust you.

"If you can never trust me, then what good am I to you?" Alec rasped, his throat so dry and sore he could barely get the words out. "Why even keep me alive?" He coughed, and the deep pain stabbing his chest brought tears to his eyes.

Lydecker shrugged. "Stud purposes if nothing else. I've already told you your genetics are an irreplaceable asset to our New Manticore genome base. Of course you don't really need much of a mind to be able to fuck the brood mares, so I'd be careful if I were you, 494." The colonel held up a small slender scalpel, its razor sharp edge glittering in the dim light of the white room. "Our neurosurgeons, I'm sure, will be more than willing to cut that rebellious nature right out of your brain if I deem it necessary."

Alec closed his eyes. Once more, he only wanted to die.

"By the way," Lydecker said. "In case you're wondering, you took a bullet to the heart."

Hazel-green eyes flew open once more, their depths brimming with fear.

"Oh, don't worry," the colonel continued. "You're still all you. No artificial organs or transplants. Not so much as a nanocyte or a cyber limb. Our surgeons are the best. They put over twelve hours into repairing you. As a result, your heart will heal. In three or four months, with your genetic abilities, you won't have so much as a scar." His voice tapered off as he studied his captive, and his captive stared silently back.

Suddenly, Lydecker reached over and picked up what looked like a remote control from the stainless steel bedside table. "One last thing, 494," he said. "Just in case you've got an idea in that handsome head of yours that she's going to come to your rescue." He thumbed on a closed circuit television monitor that was mounted on the wall.

Alec turned his head away, terrified of what he was going to see. If Lydecker had killed Max ... But then, compelled by that same deep fear, he had to look -- he had to know.

However, when the set brightened and the image on it cleared, he saw that it wasn't Max's death Lydecker was going to taunt him with. It was something far more ugly.

There, on the screen in living color, was the image of the colonel and Max naked on a bed together.

Alec's breath caught in his throat even as his damaged heart contracted painfully in his chest. "No," he whispered, feeling as if he was going to be sick. His eyes went to Lydecker, pleading. "Tell me this is some kind of trick. That you didn't make her--"

"It was the price for your life," Lydecker replied evenly. "But it doesn't really matter," he added, "considering she's convinced that you're dead now anyway thanks to your twin brother's remains that I'd had kept in cryo storage. She broke down, you know -- when she saw her lover's body all cut up on an autopsy table."

"You filthy bastard!" Alec snarled.

The colonel turned to go.

"Damn it! At least turn it off!" he cried, indicating the x-rated video.

Lydecker just smiled, and left.

"Turn it off!" Alec screamed.