Artwork courtesy of JensenAckles.Org

DISCLAIMER: All DARK ANGEL characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and DARK ANGEL itself belongs to FOX.

ARCHIVE: No

This is a stand-alone story in my DARK ALEC series. These stories are my version of Season 4, and incorporate elements not only of the television show DARK ANGEL, but of the novels SKIN GAME and AFTER THE DARK, the book THE EYES ONLY DOSSIER, and information revealed in various cast/writer/producer interviews, chats, and commentaries. -- author's note

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"Davis Stendahl's group has an antigen that could delay Max's progeria long enough for the baby to be safely born."

Alec and Max both stared at Colonel Donald Lydecker, then looked at each other, his words sinking in. Seated on wooden chairs in the drafty shack the Colonel used as his office -- feeling rather like unruly students called before their principal -- both knew the score. Like it or not, once in awhile their old CO still had the upper hand over them.

Alec swallowed hard, and his head swiveled back to the Colonel, hazel-green eyes zeroing in. "But in return for helping Max," he said, his voice deep and low,"Dr. Frankenstein's gonna want me. I'm the price."

"Exactly," Lydecker said grimly. "And have no doubt about it. Once Davis has you physically under his control, he will kill you. Oh, not your body ... but he'll destroy 'Alec,' leaving just the shell with its X5 strength and healing abilities for his reanimation cyborg experiments.

"I'm nearly seven months along," Max said tightly. "The baby could be taken now and probably still survive ... with the right care ..." But then she frowned. All three of them knew that the kind of intensive neonatal care a premie would need wasn't an option for the transgenics living on the isolated Wyoming base.

Alec viciously shoved the chair back and stood, paced a moment with hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, then leaned heavily against the east wall of the shanty, resting his forehead on an upraised arm, eyes closing as he tried to get himself under control. "Why the fuck does that bastard want me so bad?" he said hoarsely, pounding a fist against the wood. He looked back over his shoulder at the Colonel. "Why me? All this 'cause he thinks I can expose him as a traitor? I can't do that without condemning myself as well."

"I've wondered about Davis' true motives myself for quite some time now," Lydecker replied. "There are several dozen X5s still alive in the world, but the Major seems to have this incredible hard-on about you in particular. I've already searched the files ... your missions ... We assumed it was because of what you knew from that solo operation in Syria -- and I'm sure that's still part of it, Davis needing to cover his ass. But I'm also sensing more. Which leaves only one other logical possibility.

"Which is?" Max prompted.

"There's something in 494's genetics that Davis covets or hates, although for the life of me I can't imagine what that is." Sharp blue eyes flicked toward the door. "I'm wondering if a little research might not be in order."

"Research?" Max said.

"The genetic data base stored in the mountain," Alec said, understanding. "The main lab where they manufactured us was destroyed back in '21 by you, Zack, and your rugrat buddies, but the source material is still on file. We could find out who and what went into my cocktail, right, 'Deck?"

"Exactly."

*****

Number 43

"Your physical appearance -- facial features, hair and eye color, height, weight, etcetera -- came from an actor," Lydecker announced as he perused the data displayed on the computer terminal. "Number forty-three in the donor base."

"Surprise, surprise," Max said with a nasty little grin.

Alec made a face."An actor?" he said, sounding almost humorously stricken. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"He was apparently a kid who supplied DNA samples back in the late 1990's," the Colonel continued. "As I recall, the original Manticore gene gathering program approached a lot of models and Hollywood types soliciting material under the guise of creating a time capsule for the future -- the best and the brightest preserved and all that shit."

"While in reality those samples went straight to Sandeman," Max said with a sober smile. "And then got used in whipping up the Manticore soldiers."

"Hey, it was a good cover story for us," 'Deck defended his program, "and later allowed us to have a supply of cosmetically appealing DNA to choose from when we'd perfected our feline hybridization splicing and were ready to move on and give our products more eye appeal." The Colonel glanced up at Alec. "It's a documented psychological fact that good looking people have an easier time infiltrating or initiating relationships, be it with a group or an individual."

"In other words, our beauty was great camouflage for your assassins," Alec said dryly.

"I always knew you were a wolf sheeps' clothing," Max quipped, raking Alec with her eyes in a suggestive and appreciative way.

"What kind of actor?" Alec asked, that point still bothering him as he leaned forward to peer over the Colonel's shoulder at the picture of a kid barely out of his teens with facial features so much like his own it was uncanny. "Oh please tell me he wasn't gay."

"That cleft in his chin sure is yours," Max remarked as she, too, studied the photo. "The eye color...the hair... In fact, you could be his clone."

"I am his clone," Alec said sarcastically. "Or at least the outside of me is. Hey, maybe this guy could play an older version of me in that Hollywood movie about my life I'm gonna try'n sell someday."

"Soap opera," Lydecker said, spitting out the words as if they tasted bad in his mouth. "At least that's what your thespian double was doing at the time he donated his samples. Doubtful he was homosexual though -- that would have been picked up in initial screening and eliminated him from the gene pool. But of course one never knows for certain ... Sometimes that kind of thing is nurture and not nature."

"Was he at least a good actor?" Alec wondered, studying his own reflection in the stainless steel side of a computer case, tilting his head to admire his jaw line along with that 'cleft' in his chin Max had remarked on. "Tell me he won an Emmy or an Oscar or something equally impressive. I've never seen him in anything, though, and I'm a bit of a media buff, so he couldn't have been very famous."

"Wouldn't know about that," Lydecker said, his voice clipped. "This data base doesn't have tracking information on the donor subjects, After The Pulse, there wasn't much call for male models or hunks. Hollywood pretty much shut down except for the porn industry." The Colonel shrugged. "Of course this guy would be a bit 'long in the tooth' for that kind of career now -- if he's even still alive."

"X-rated to X-5," Alec remarked. "How poetic." He looked over at Max through narrowed eyes. "What? No remark about how it figures I'm the offspring of a possible porn star?"

"Nothing about you surprises me any more, Alec," Max said with an ornery twinkle in her eye. "Although, that would explain at least one big thing about you."

"What one big thing ... oh, that," Alec caught himself. "Yeah," he smirked. "I guess it would."

Lydecker was scowling at their banter. "Big things, aside, I wouldn't lose any sleep over the fact that pretty face of yours came from a boy toy who wore makeup for a living, soldier. Number Forty-three isn't who you really are. He only provided the superficial cosmetics. I'm relatively certain it's not who you look like that has Stendahl's panties in a wad, but rather who you act like. It's the person looking out at the world through your eyes that I think he wants to destroy."

"Explain," Max said.

Number 16

Lydecker tapped the keys and the head shot of the handsome young soap opera actor vanished, replaced by a picture of a man of around 20 with dark hair and eyes who -- although he didn't look a bit like Alec -- was as GQ handsome as they come.

"You saw your outsides," the Colonel said quietly. "Now meet your insides ... the foundation of your personality and intellect. The gene splicers of course embellished ... a touch of mathematics genius here, a few more I.Q. points there, eidetic memory, plus all the bells and whistles of your X5 functions. But this man, right here -- Number Sixteen -- was the primary donor for your core personality. I remember how we researched him fairly thoroughly when we were trying to find out what went wrong with your twin."

"Was Number Sixteen a dentist by any chance?" Alec asked, only half kidding as he closely studied the picture of the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his genetic father in all the ways that counted.

"He was originally Green Beret but recruited for black ops by the NSA," Lydecker said, reading the screen. "During his short but spectacular military career he was highly decorated for bravery yet not promoted through the ranks as one would expect due to discipline problems and subsequent sanctions. His speciality was deep cover espionage and infiltration."

"Sneak and creep," Alec said low under his breath as his eyes narrowed once more and he tried to picture in his mind who this guy had really been.

"Informal records indicate he was a real charmer with the ladies--"

"I bet he was," Max snorted.

"--engaging in a string of affairs although he never married or, to our knowledge, sired offspring. He also had a list of rules infractions against him as long as your arm -- everything from insubordination to disobeying an order to illegal fraternization and possession of contraband. Sound like anyone you know, 494?"

This time Max didn't even try to suppress her grunt of amusement.

Alec ignored her. "Is he still alive?" he wondered.

"No" the Colonel continued. Specimen Number Sixteen was executed for treason in 2007 at the tender age of twenty after refusing to obey a direct order that resulted in the failure of a critical mission -- something about an innocent girl being in the line of fire and him aborting rather than killing her along with the mark -- which in turn allowed a terrorist attack to happen resulting in over a hundred deaths."

A cold chill raced down Alec's spine. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree ... or would that be "Like father like son?"

"Then he wasn't such a bad guy after all," the X5 said quietly. I imagine he had a good reason for disobeyin' that order. If he was only twenty in 2007, that meant he was no more'n a child when his DNA samples were put in the gene bank." He looked toward the Colonel. "Which would explain why he wasn't culled out as defective after bein' court martialled and executed -- that horse had already left the gate as they say. Ben and me were already out of the oven. But why would Stendahl be concerned with this Number Sixteen and the fact part of him's apparently inside of me -- makin' me me. Or could it be the soap opera thing after all?"

"Because Number Sixteen's real name was Jack Edgar Stendahl," Lydecker said, squinting through his reading glasses at some of the more minuscule details in the footnotes. He raised his eyes to Alec's suddenly very wide ones. "He was Stendahl's son. And it says here that Davis was so ashamed of the boy's actions he refused to attend the kid's funeral. Afterwards, he had Jack's genetic material in the data base destroyed -- he had that kind of power even back before The Pulse. However, of course -- like you said -- you and Ben were already established in a Unit by then."

"I'm surprised he didn't try to have the children destroyed too," Max said softly.

"He did," Lydecker said, looking off into the distance. "I remember now. There was an edict issued in late 2007 ordering the destruction of twin-Units X5-493 and X5-494. I couldn't imagine why that should be since you and your brother, at the time, appeared to be everything we'd hoped for in our X5 class. I appealed the order, and it was rescinded by The Committee. Apparently Davis' pull didn't extend quite that high. Afterwards I always thought it had been some kind of clerical mistake and never thought much about it again."

"Stendahl hates what his son did so much he wants to wipe out all traces of his existence," Max said. "Makes sense, at least in the weird world of Manticore. So long as Alec's alive, Jack's genetics can be passed on to future generations. But by destroying 494's mind and most of his body in his cyborg factory that possibility will be eliminated forever, yet still allow the greedy bastard to make use of Alec's valuable X5 remains for his current pet program, not to mention eliminating forever the possibility you'll expose him as the traitor he really is. Talk about a hypocrite ..." Max shook her head at the irony of it all.

"Tell me something," Alec asked quietly in the silence that had suddenly fallen between the three following Max's stark analysis of the problem. "Did Jack Stendahl play the piano?"

Lydecker studied the information on the screen again, reading the donor's attributes in more detail. Finally, he looked up at 494. "Yes. He played piano and guitar ... at one point even had his own band. Musical talents are often associated with superb mathematics abilities so this was considered a plus."

Alec just nodded.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"Why couldn't I have had the actor's insides as well as his outsides?" Alec whined.

"Because then you'd have had the intelligence of a fruit fly and only been good for gigolo services or making sitcoms instead of kicking ass," Max snapped. "Cheer up. At least you don't look like Lydecker's wife. How do you think I feel livin' with that kind of burden? Be glad your cosmetic donor was just one more pretty boy face in the Hollywood crowd -- anonymous."

Raising one eyebrow, the X5 conceded that. Things could be worse ... Which brought up another point. "Max," Alec said. "You know, if Davis Stendahl was essentially partly my grandpa" -- he made a face at the uncomfortable thought -- "then wouldn't his wife have sort of been my grandmother?"

Max glanced over at him. They were walking side-by-side toward the barracks. The new quarters weren't finished yet, and they'd both become pretty much accustomed to the tight living space and lack of privacy. Still, she liked to take a nap in the late afternoon when there weren't any others in the building. Today, she was feeling extra tired for some reason ...

"Technically, yeah," Max agreed. "Why? You suddenly wanna go lookin' for your roots? I thought that was my thing."

"You always wanted to find your surrogate mother," Alec said. "The lady who gave birth to you. "Me, I'm more interested in who's responsible for my brilliant wit and manly charms."

"Oh, puh-lease," Max chided him. "You're making me feel sick. Get over yourself already."

Her mate held out his right hand, studying it in the slanting rays of the late day sun. "I wanna know who made me so I can play the piano," he said, "and who made me so I don't like the taste of lettuce." He flexed his fingers into a fist. "I wanna know why Ben went insane and I didn't." He looked at Max. "All of that's probably locked up in Jack Stendahl's genetics, and maybe in his parents' genetics too."

"You want some of your own advice, Alec?" Max said. "Leave well enough alone. That's what you told me when I was so hot to find my birth mother. And you know what? You were right. Leave this alone. If the price for Stendahl's help with my progeria is your life, we'll forget about it -- find another way. I don't like you even considering going further with this. That guy hates you with an inhuman passion. He doesn't just want to kill you, he wants to torture you ... keep you alive in a world of horror forever. He wants to--"

Alec put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "Shhh, Maxie," he said softly, kissing the top of her head. "I won't let that happen. Somehow, we'll get what we need with no one dyin' or gettin' tortured. Believe me, I've had enough pain lately to last six lifetimes. I sure as hell ain't gonna go lookin' for any more."

They'd reached the barracks, and -- as usual at this time of day -- it was empty. Max gratefully stretched out on the pushed-together bunks they shared, throwing an arm across her eyes. Alec sat down beside her and gently stroked her greying hair. She patted the blankets. "Stay with me," she said softly. "While I sleep."

Alec knew he had other places to be right now -- people waiting for him in the control center ... Lydecker probably itchin' to talk ... But he couldn't deny Max this little comfort, not when-- He stopped that thought. He absolutely wasn't going to go there ... wasn't going to think of her days with him as now numbered.

He searched for a safe topic of conversation ... something pleasant to lull his mate into slumber. "You know, sometimes I have dreams," he said as he stretched out beside her, turning his head on his pillow so he was facing her.

"I have them too," Max said, still shielding her eyes.

"No," Alec said. "Not about Manticore. Well, I have those dreams too -- nightmares really. I'm talkin' about another kind of dream, really vivid, in color, with tastes and smells, and voices where I'm in a place I know I can't have been but I'd swear I was. I'd think it was just a scene from a movie or TV show, but I've had them since I was a really little kid, long before I was ever around a boob tube."

Max peeked out at him, a dark eyebrow arching. "Tell me," she said.

Alec looked inward, the way he sometimes did when he was drifting off to sleep, knowing that the technique would draw out the incredible scenarios his brain for some reason had stored as if actual experiences.

"I'm with a group of people at a cabin in the woods," he said, the memory forming behind his eyes like a picture coming into focus. "Not log ... made of cedar planks ... built on the side of a hill ... on a level patch of ground. There's a looping gravel drive running down to a dirt road below, and trees rising behind above a steep bank. There's a low wooden fence on one side ... a lot of weeds, but it's been mowed occasionally ..."

"Where is it located?" Max asked, her voice stronger as her curiosity awakened. "Wyoming?"

Alec narrowed his eyes, then closed them, relaxing. "No," he said almost sleepily as his mind slowly drifted toward a beta pattern, an almost semi-hypnotic state ... the way he always used to recall whatever these impressions were. "It's hills, not mountains ... the Midwest maybe ..." He blinked. "Hickory Hill."

"Are you there alone?" Max asked, deliberately drawing him out as she played along with this new game.

"No," Alec murmured. "There's an old man -- a grandfather. He's lyin' in a hammock and playing with a fluffy little white dog, holdin' it on his chest." He grinned. "It pee-ed on him ... There's an old woman too. She's kind of heavy set and wearin' glasses and an apron with her hair in one of those bun things. She's scolding everyone, but no one seems to mind."

"A matriarch," Max breathed, becoming more fascinated by the second.. "Any others?"

"There's a younger woman -- middle-aged -- the old woman's daughter I think 'cause, even though she's thin, she looks kind of like her -- dark hair ... blue blouse ... She's wearing an apron too. Men are grilling hamburgers and hot dogs outside under this carport roof in the back of the cabin. There's a coal shed off to my right ..." He licked his lips. "Someone showed me how to roast a marshmallow over the coals. You put 'em on a sharp stick and toast 'em -- all melted and gooey in the middle and brown and crispy on the outside ..."

"Alec," Max said in a low voice. "This definitely isn't something from Manticore you're remembering."

"I know," he said, forcing his eyes open.

"How old were you?"

He shrugged. "Seven ... maybe eight years old? Before you guys ran away, though ... before Manticore came down hard on us twins ..."

"You suppose it could be some kind of genetic memory?" she wondered.

"From Jack Stendahl or that actor guy?" Alec said, somehow disturbed that the memory might not really be his own. He liked that memory ... took comfort in it sometimes at night. There was another one too ... similar, but in a different location although the people were the same.

"I can tell you the exact layout of that cabin," he added. "There was the back door in from the carport. You go up a couple of stone steps ... one time when I was there they found a snake behind 'em ... in a crack. It was a blue racer ..."

"Wait a minute!" Max said. "You were there more than once?"

Alec thought a moment. "Had to have been," he said. "I remember different seasons ... summer ... hot ... fall and the leaves all colorful with the air cool enough to be wearing a jacket ... never winter though. No snow ... Inside the back door was a mud room. They stored stuff like the hammock and the lawn chair on the left, and on the right, flat on the floor, was a door leading down to a stone cellar where there was a coal furnace. It had a ring that you used to lift it up. Everything inside was wood paneled ... You came from the mud room into the kitchen, stove on the left ... propane I think 'cause I remember a big tank sittin' in the weeks outside ... sink with a hand pump for water ... a pantry around a little corner, and a big table with two benches on the right where everyone sat down and ate hotdogs, hamburgers, corn on the cob, and watermelon. There was cake too ... Afterwards we played cards or Monopoly ..."

"Keep going," Max said.

"From the kitchen you went into a living room ... wood floor ... fireplace on the right flanked by book cases. One of the books was about birds ... There's a day bed with a forest green cover that has white piping just to my left, and a television in the left corner where the men sometimes watched football. They were always foolin' with a rabbit ear antenna. There was a front door leadin' out of the living room area, but it was boarded up from the inside. I guess the cabin wasn't used too often. A short hallway had a bedroom off of it, a bathroom at the end, a shower stall on the left and some kind of linen cupboard. There was another door leading to a screened porch, but I was only out there one time ... Everything always smelled kind of musty ..."

"Men?" Max said. "What men? The grandpa?"

"Younger," Alec said. "But not kids. I was always the only kid. The woman had two sisters, they had husbands and teenage children ... all girls, though. They thought I was cute ..."

"I bet they did," Max muttered. "Names," she said. "Alec ... did they have names?"

His brow furrowed, and he closed his eyes more tightly, shutting out her voice as the "memories" flowed. "Naomi," he said. "The younger woman -- who was the oldest daughter -- was Naomi. Her sisters were Jean and Dodo ... One of the husbands was Lee." He scowled. "There are more names, but I can't reach 'em right now."

"It's enough," Max said, sitting up in bed and grabbing hold of his hand. "Come on. We need to talk to Lydecker again."

"Why?" Alec asked. "It's just my imagination."

"Or not," Max said. "What if it's part of Jack's life you're remembering, Alec?"

"Then it would be incredibly creepy."

"But it might be a key to manipulating Davis Stendahl," she pointed out.

"How?"

"I don't know, Alec. But I do think we need to find out if those people and that place are real."

"Okay," he said, still uncomfortable with the idea that he might have someone else's memories locked in his brain, but he was willing to humor Max. Hell, at this point he was willing to do absolutely anything for Max -- and he did mean anything ...

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & Eyes Only

"That's impossible," Lydecker said curtly. Adjusting his reading glasses, the Colonel went back to studying the supply manifests on his desk, dismissing the two transgenics.

"So it's just a dream?" Alec pressed, putting both hands on the desktop and leaning into the man, refusing to give up so easily.

"Yes."

"Awfully detailed for a dream," Max said. "More like a memory."

"I said it's impossible," Lydecker repeated. Sighing heavily, he looked up at his two kids, the early evening sun slanting through the single window of the wooden shanty exagerrating the deep creases in his face.

Max isn't the only one who's aging fast, Alec thought as he studied the wily Colonel. "Impossible that it happened?" he asked quietly. "Or impossible that I can remember?"

Lydecker scrubbed rough fingers back through his greying hair. "The latter, if you have to know," he finally said, not trying to make his frustration.

"Another erased episode of my life?" Alec asked. "Like with the Syria mission?"

"Similar," the Colonel said. "And I still don't think it's possible you're actually remembering true events. The psy-ops boys were thorough when they dismantled that project, being careful to not leave a trace in the minds of the children."

"What project?" Max demanded, moving a step closer to Alec so her shoulder was touching his arm, the two X5s presenting a united front against the man they still sometimes perceived as their old enemy.

Lydecker shook his head -- and gave in. "In the summer of 2005," he said, "494 was one of half a dozen X5-Units chosen for an experiment. There was some concern among the psychologists monitoring the growth of the children that they weren't receiving enough intimate human contact while in the delicate personality-molding phase of their lives."

Alec scowled, not understanding. "What did they do to me?" he forced himself to ask, not certain he really wanted to know the answer. "Tie me down and train a monkey to cuddle me?"

"No," Lydecker said dryly. "What we did was allow you to spend time off base with a foster family under carefully monitored conditions. We wanted to acclimatize you to what it was like to be in a 'normal' environment, as if you'd been born a true human child."

"I don't remember any foster family," Alec said, shooting a look in Max's direction.

"You wouldn't," Lydecker said heavily, tossing down his pencil and looking away out the window. "The experiment was deemed a failure and great pains were taken to erase all memory of those excursions from your mind. Afterwards, the radical simplification you underwent following the '09 escape would have wiped out any remaining traces of those days you spent off base."

"Why?" Alec had to wonder. "Because you didn't want your precious assassin-in-the-making having fond memories of roasted marshmallows, playing in a pile of autumn leaves, and a really nice lady bandaging a skinned knee?"

"We didn't want you to have any memories of ever being loved," Lydecker said brutally. "We decided it would be a weakness instead of an asset."

Max took hold of Alec's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"What exactly do you remember, soldier?" the Colonel asked.

Alec described his dream, much the way he had to Max, and Lydecker's face paled. "Impossibilities aside," the Colonel said when 494 had finished, "we need to check the main data base. That name -- 'Naomi'..." He didn't finish the sentence.

"You think this memory has something to do with Jack Stendahl?" Alec asked.

"I think it has everything to do with Jack," Lydecker replied as they headed for the mountain. "And everything to do with Davis as well."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"Of course," Lydecker breathed as he read through the data. "I don't know how I missed this before."

"What is it?" Max asked, peering over the older man's shoulder. Alec was standing back, not particularly anxious to yank yet one more skeleton out of the closet of his sorry youth.

"Davis Stendahl's first wife's name was 'Naomi.' She was Jack's mother. She'd divorced Davis in 2007, after their son's execution, although they'd separated long before that."

"And she'd applied at Manticore two years before that to be a foster mother to her son's psychological clone?" Alec snorted, finding that hard to believe, both that the woman would want anything to do with him and that Manticore would have allowed such contact.

"Naomi Stendahl was at one time a researcher for one of Manticore's subcontractors," Lydecker said, reading more of her file to them. "She had a fair amount of pull with the X5 project, as well as access to genetic records. She apparently had so much faith in the experiment she even added her own child's DNA to the data base. But she retired early, in 2004, separating from Jack and moving moved to Ohio to live with her two sisters."

"Dodo and Jean," Alec said.

"Doris, actually," Lydecker said, continuing to scan the information. "Naomi then applied to be a foster mother for one of our young X5-Units when the program became available."

"Obviously she had some influence left," Max said. "She picked Alec -- her own son's clone -- out of the bunch."

"What about Ben?" Alec wondered. "Why didn't she go after him, too?"

"Ben wasn't in the group," Lydecker said. "He was the control -- one big advantage of having twins to use as lab rats."

Alec winced at the brutal, but true, words. As usual, the Colonel wasn't sugarcoating the facts.

"So, Alec got a dose of tender loving care during his formative years, and Ben didn't," Max said quietly, both of the X5s thinking the same thing ... that maybe 493 wouldn't have turned killer if he'd also had a chance to taste roasted marshmallows and play games as a child with people who at least seemed to care about him.

One more piece of the puzzle of my life falling into place, Alec thought with some satisfaction. It wasn't much ... but it was better than the nothing he'd started out with three years ago.

"Naomi played with her grand-clone, divorced old Davis, and probably stood by her son, Jack, to the bitter end," Alec said, putting it all into a nutshell. "But how is this gonna help our negotiations with Dr. Frankenstein? If anything, it'll make him more pissed than ever at me."

"I don't know how it will help," Lydecker admitted. "But the information certainly can't hurt."

"Is she still alive?" Max asked. "Naomi?"

"No way to know," the Colonel said.

"I think I know how to maybe find out," Alec offered. "Is there a home town in Ohio listed for her?"

"Yes," Lydecker said, checking the data. "Chillicothe."

"There's a house there, on Union Street," Alec said, a picture forming crystal clear in his mind. "We always went there after coming back from the cabin and had ice cream with chocolate sauce."

"That would have been the pick-up point," Lydecker said. "Where our liaison met the civilians to take possession of our Unit." He grinned humorlessly. "That ice cream would have been drugged -- laced with a fast-acting sedative. You'd go to sleep, probably sitting at the kitchen table, and when you woke up you'd be back in your bunk here at Gillette."

Alec clenched his teeth. What had been done to that little boy ... to him ... was beyond cruel -- manipulated and passed around like a piece of equipment. He had feeling he'd really liked being with Naomi. Those dreams ... memories ... were some of the most precious things in his life.

"How the hell are you able to remember all of that, soldier?" Lydecker said, shaking his head in amazement. "But then again, you resisted reindoctrination not once, but twice." He cocked an eyebrow. "Manticore didn't do that for you, you know -- give you such stubbornness. Hell, it's what we were trying to avoid. We wanted malleable Units, not hard-nosed loose canons. Jack Stendahl's responsible for that particular genetic flaw in your cocktail. It's what got him killed, after all -- refusing to obey a direct order. Davis was right to have his son's sample destroyed in the gene bank. Soldiers with minds of their own are an army's worst nightmare."

"Too bad I can't ever thank Jack for donating his flawed genes to me," Alec said sarcastically.

"That is too bad," Max said. "But maybe you can still thank his mother ... your grandmother."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

Alec disagreed -- vehemently. "We don't have time to waste lookin' for a woman who's probably already dead," he said to Lydecker. "Max needs help now!"

"Anything we can get that can be used against Stendahl is worth having," Max argued. "We need to know if Naomi can add any information to this whole mess ... give us something new to work with."

"Does it matter?" Alec shouted, gesturing with his hands as he once more paced Lydecker's office. "What could she tell us anyway? That the bastard snores? That he had a mistress? Hell, I can already prove he's a traitor to his country, just like his son was. Isn't that enough? We're not gonna change Stendahl's mind about me. He wants a straight trade -- me for antigen that will keep you alive long enough so our son can be born. There's no way around that, Max."

"What do you think?" Max said, her eyes piercing Lydecker's.

"I think we need to go to Ohio," the Colonel said in a carefully controlled tone of voice as he warily watched the agitated X5 male. "Diplomacy was never my cup of tea, but in a pinch I've been known to talk people into -- and out of -- the damnedest things. Give me enough ammunition, and I can at least make a run at Stendahl ... try and talk him out of slaughtering your man."

"We. Don't. Have. Time," Alec said through gritted teeth. "Max, have you looked in a mirror lately?"

She hadn't -- deliberately -- but at his words her hands flew to her face. She could feel the dry skin ... the wrinkles that hadn't been there the day before.

"One day," Lydecker said to Alec. "It will just take one day to gather the intel in Ohio, and then we go straight to Stendahl. He's already sent coordinates. We won't be far. They're in West Virginia."

"No! We go to West Virginia today," Alec said firmly. "If I'm gonna--" He stopped talking, swallowed hard, and rammed a fist into the wall, the suddenness of the act making both of the others jump. "If I'm gonna be torn apart and have my soul killed I'd just as soon get it over with," he finished, speaking with his lips close to the wood.

"You're in an awful big hurry to die, son," Lydecker said quietly.

"Wrong," Alec snapped, turning his head so he was looking back over his shoulder at the Colonel, his eyes anguished. "I'm in an awful big hurry to save my family."

"Idiot," Max breathed, the word uttered as an endearment. "My baby needs his father, Alec. So, do what the man says. I know it's a slim chance, but if Naomi is still alive, and if she can give us useful information, then you've got to talk to her before turning yourself over."

"And every minute we stand here arguing is a minute wasted for Max," Lydecker pointed out. He took a set of keys out of his pocket. "It's about 12 hours to Ohio. Do you want to drive first shift, or should I?"

"No!" Alec shouted. "I'm turnin' myself in -- now!" Then, in a smaller voice, "While I still can ... Before I give it up and just run or kill myself ..."

So that was it, Max thought, her heart aching for her lover. Alec was scared to death and finding it incredibly hard to do -- what he thought -- was the right thing. "Valiant" wasn't a word she'd usually use to describe X5-494, but in this case it fit almost as well as what she'd just called him. She reached out and touched his bare forearm, the heat of his body flowing like an electric current into hers ... giving her strength ... connecting them ...

"I won't get that much worse over the next two days," she said softly. "Or, if I do, then the progeria is progressing so rapidly even what Stendahl has probably won't do any good. Do what 'Deck says, Alec. Go with him to Ohio. Find Naomi if you can. Get her to tell you about Jack. If you have all the facts you'll be in a lot better bargaining position. You're a salesman at heart. Certainly you know that."

"She's got you," Lydecker said gruffly. He held out the keys again. "Pack a change of clothes. I'll get us some food from the mess hall to take along."

Alec sniffed loudly and finally turned to look at Max through bleary eyes. "How do we get past McKinley's' road block at the perimeter?" he said, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

Max relaxed. She'd won.

"There's a Jeep trail up and over the south mountain range accessible from the back of the base grounds," Lydecker said. Pine trees shield it from orbital photos. I doubt it's guarded."

Alec pressed his lips together and nodded. Once again Lydecker's vast knowledge of their home was coming in handy. Then he turned to Max and just looked at her.

Like a physical blow, it struck 452 that his might very well be the last time she would ever see Alec -- the father of her child and the true love of her life.

"I'll leave you two kids alone," Lydecker said, for once in his sour life being sensitive to a situation. "Meet me in the motorpool in fifteen minutes," he added to his X5.

"It's been good, Max," Alec said, speaking first after the Colonel was gone. "All good. No regrets."

"No regrets," she repeated with a little smile. And really, what more was there to say? "I love you," she whispered as he swept her into his arms and hugged her for what both knew would probably have to last them forever.

"I love you, too," he murmured, his voice deep and rich and sexy in that way that always sent shivers up her spine. Then his lips found hers and they shared a kiss.

Max wanted more of him ... all of him ... would have demanded it ... But Lydecker was waiting.

A minute passed ... two ... "Damn it," Alec whispered hoarsely as he finally pulled away, burying his face now against her shoulder and clinging to her like a little child. "Why can't I stay with you ... with my family? Why can't I stay?"

Max had no answer for that. If it had been just her life on the line she'd never have let him sacrifice himself like this. But this wasn't for her ... it was for their child ... for the only future they had ...

"Go!" she said harshly, suddenly pushing him away, unable to bear the pain any longer.

Alec staggered back, his hazel-green eyes bright with tears as he gazed at her for the final time.

Max turned her back on him then, not wanting him to remember her looking like this ... like an old woman ... "Go!" she commanded, crossing arms over her chest. "Go now!"

"Tell him about me," Alec said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Tell him who his father was. Please ... don't forget me."

And then he was gone, and the emptiness left behind in the room ... in Max's life and heart ... was unbearable, the pain so intense she couldn't even cry.

A small part of her even hated Alec then ... hated him for making her love him with a passion so great ... hated him for making her vulnerable to the agony of his loss ... hated him for brightening her life for an instant, only to plunge her back into darkness like the unreliable jerk he was ...

She smiled at that last thought, smiled through the tears that were finally wetting her cheeks.

Smart ass ... smart aleck ... Alec ...

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"Why not Ben?" Alec suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had become almost palpable since their last pit stop on US296 (and a ridiculously vicious argument over the only remaining Krispy Kreme doughnut in the QuickiMart's pastry case). The tension between the two men had been mounting ever since they'd left Gillette, both loathing what they had to do, but both also knowing it was their only option -- amass all the ammo they could find against Stendahl, give the butcher the X5 he'd been craving all these months, collect the cure for Max, and then pray.

Lydecker, who was taking his turn at driving, glanced over at the younger man in the passenger's seat. "Why not Ben what?"

"Why wasn't Ben picked for your normalization program? Why send me out into the real world for tender loving care and ice cream instead of my brother?"

The Colonel smiled slightly. "That one's easy," he said. "I picked you because Ben was the better Unit ... the one with more potential."

Alec did a doubletake.

"If the experiment had failed," Lydecker continued, "... if it was determined that exposing the young Units to regular society had irrevocably tainted their minds, then all of the children used for the test would have been put down."

"Put down?" Alec repeated the words, although he knew exactly what Lydecker was saying. Still he couldn't quite believe that even Manticore would--

"There was a fifty-fifty chance you would have ended up euthanized with your organs harvested," Lydecker clarified bluntly. "We weren't at all certain of the outcome of the experiment, nor were we certain we'd be able to reverse any negative side effects." He shrugged. "As things turned out, the psy-ops boys seemed to think you weren't fatally contaminated ... that you could be made to forget your little forays into the world of humans and be redeemed for our purposes."

Alec didn't ask about the other children in the experiment -- if they'd been redeemed as well. He honestly didn't want to know. "So I was more expendable than Ben," he said quietly.

"I wasn't about to risk 493," Lydecker said. "Hell, I'd hand-picked him for my own special Unit, along with Max ... Zack ... Jace ... Jondy and the others. They were the best of the X5s so far as physical abilities, intelligence, courage ..."

"And what were the rest of us then?" Alec snapped. "Chopped liver?"

"Not at all," the Colonel said more gently. "But you weren't the best ... at least not back then. And I was willing to sacrifice you if the experiment failed."

"What did you see in Ben that you didn't see in me?" Alec pressed -- picking at it like a scab -- figuring that at this point in his probably soon-to-be-ended life he had nothing to lose by hearing the truth.

Pale blue eyes narrowed in the oncoming headlights of a car. It was beginning to rain, and the droplets on the windshield cast freckled shadows on his weathered face making the Colonel look more harsh caricature than a man. "493 was always more focused," he finally said, his gravelly voice holding no apology. "He didn't constantly push the envelope, the rules, the way you did ... was more obedient ... He wasn't always trying to get away with something."

"Max said Ben used to ask about what was on the outside," Alec pointed out. "She said he wondered a lot about things. Sounds like he was a curious kid to me, and I bet he pushed that 'envelope' plenty."

"Ah," Lydecker said. "But there's the difference. Ben kept his questions to himself, or asked them only at the appropriate time, or in the quiet of the darkened barracks. You, on the other hand, were constantly mouthing off to your superiors. You had an attitude that just wouldn't quit ... a streak of independence and rebellion the psych-boys found a bit alarming. We didn't really think you were stupid -- the way you kept bringing punishment down on yourself for insubordination and the like -- but we had to wonder about the psychological makeup of a soldier who was so constantly in disciplinary trouble."

"When I'm pushed, I push back," Alec said quietly in his own defense.

The Colonel nodded. "You were actually the more aggressive of the two," he said. "Ben was more passive. Normally, I would have wanted the twin with the most fire, but not when that fire wasn't tempered with common sense and dependability."

"But I--"

"You're unpredictable, 494. You were then, and you still are today. I wanted reliable soldiers in my special Unit, not loose canons."

Alec popped a peanut M&M into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then drawled sarcastically, "Well, we all know how well brother Ben turned out, don't we?"

Lydecker sighed heavily. "The psychosis was an unforeseen phenomenon that might well have been avoided if 493 hadn't been separated from his handlers at such a young age."

"Or if he'd had a chance to experience the love of a family, like his brother did," Alec added.

"That shouldn't have been a factor," the Colonel argued. "At least not according to psy-ops."

"And psy-ops is is just so infallible," Alec sneered. "Hell, it's not as if the lab boys ever make mistakes. I mean, once a Unit is re-indoctrinated or programmed to forget, that's the end of the story, right?"

"Point taken," Lydecker replied quietly, his eyes riveted on the dark wet road ahead. "The very trait I thought was a flaw in you turned out to be your salvation." He smiled grimly. "Funny how things work out sometimes ..."

"Yeah, it's fuckin' hilarious," Alec agreed, popping another candy into his mouth before settling back against the car seat and closing his eyes to try and get some much needed sleep.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

They rolled into the dying farm town of Chillicothe, Ohio just after dawn, Alec yawning and stretching in his grey-leather jacket as he blinked in the light of the rising sun, and wondering why Lydecker hadn't kicked him awake hours ago to take over the driving. As things were, his stomach was growling with hunger and he had to pee. "There," he said through another yawn, nodding at a gas station up ahead. "Pit stop."

"Agreed," the Colonel said, shrugging obviously stiff shoulders and probably wishing he'd switched off with the X5 earlier as well.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Alec asked as they parked by a gas pump and headed for the small dilapidated convenience store.

"Strategy," Lydecker said. "If only one of us can be in peak operating condition, it should be you."

Alec blinked at that. "Thank you ... I guess," he said. "Although, you know I can go four days without sleep if I have to. You, on the other hand, look like shit."

"I doesn't matter," Lydecker said.

Alec opened his mouth to argue that, then realized the absurdity of it all -- him worried about the well-being of the man who'd made his life a living hell for almost 20 years. "If you say so," he tossed off instead, then headed for the restrooms behind the building.

The urinal was filthy, and the toilet in the stall hadn't been flushed in what looked like days. The stench of the small enclosed place had Alec's stomach roiling by the time he zipped his jeans and got out of there. Of course there was no running water ... "You're, uh, men's room needs tending to," he lightly informed the clerk behind the counter as he lay down five dollars for a bag of pork rinds and a can of Bolt soda.

So sue me, the sullen glare he received in return said.

"Breakfast of champions?" Lydecker inquired, noticing Alec's food choice. "Too bad there aren't any doughnuts for us to argue about," he added, gesturing to a pastry shelf that, sadly, had nothing left in it but crumbs.

However, Alec had just spotted a rack of maps. Walking over to the wire stand, he selected one of the city.

"That'll be ten bucks," the clerk sniped. Alec raised his head. The kid was a nasty looking teenager with greasy brown hair, pimply face, and squinty dark eyes who, from the size of his girth, had probably been the one who'd emptied the doughnut bin. With his best sarcastic smile, the X5 paid for the map as well.

"I'm goin' to the john," Lydecker said.

"You'll be sorry," Alec commented under his breath.

"Find out destination on the map," the Colonel ordered. "You say you remember the street and the house which is more than I do."

Alec nodded, then headed back to the car where he sat in the driver's seat with the door open and his long legs stretched out, studying the map and eating his breakfast while waiting for Lydecker to finish his morning business. It was a fairly long wait. Fifteen minutes later his former CO finally emerged from the filthy restroom appearing ... relieved. Smiling faintly, the X5 was careful to still be looking at the map when the Colonel arrived at the car.

"Did you find it?" Lydecker barked.

Alec tapped a place on the map. "Union Street ... right there plain as day."

"You got a house number?"

"No, but I'll recognize the place when I see it."

"You think this is where Naomi Stendahl lived?" he asked. "That she really took you to her home when you were with her as a boy? She's not listed in the phone book. I checked at the pay-phone while I was around back."

Alec shrugged. "I don't know who's house it was, but I remember bein' there a couple of times. I can tell you every room in the place, just like at the cabin, right down to describin' the paintings on the walls."

"Eidetic memory," Lydecker said, nodding with approval. "Looks like the lab boys did at least one thing right where you were concerned, 494. Let's just hope those memories are accurate."

Accepting the back-handed compliment with good humor that masked the real fear haunting him, Alec tossed a pork rind into his mouth, swigged some soda, then scooted over to once again ride shot-gun while the Colonel took the wheel.

*****

Naomi Stendahl

The house looked just like he remembered from his dream -- white clapboard, green trim, a broad front porch like they didn't build anymore with two sets of steps, one leading to a formal front door and the other to a side entrance ... Even the large ancient oak trees were familiar, shading the cracked uneven sidewalk that ran parallel to the street in front of the late 19th century home.

"One thirty one East Union Street," Alec said to himself, his vision telescoping in on the numbers above the front door as Lydecker parked the car.

The Colonel headed for the main entrance, but Alec's hand on the man's arm brought him to a stop. The X5 nodded to the side door. "This way," he said. "They never used the front."

There was an electronic buzzer to the left, but Alec chose to twist the old fashioned "ringer" located in the center of the beautiful wood door. Then the two men simply stood and waited.

Footsteps ... a dog barking somewhere out back where Alec suddenly recalled there was a formal goldfish pond -- a delightful discovery for a little boy exploring in the tiny flower-filled, shaded yard.

"Can I help you?" a small grey-haired woman with bright blue eyes asked as she swung open the door.

Alec's heart had been beating hard and fast, but suddenly it slowed.

"Naomi Stendahl?" Lydecker asked politely.

"No," the elderly lady replied. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong house."

The Colonel shot Alec a look. "Sorry to have bothered you ma'am. Excuse the intrusion." He started to turn around.

"My sister lives out on Springhollow Road," the woman said. "Only she's Naomi Miller now."

Alec felt as if an electric shock had just jolted his limbs. "Your sister's Naomi Stendahl?"

"Why yes," the woman replied with a smile. "Only, like I said, it's Miller now."

"You're Dodo?" the X5 said. "I mean Doris?"

"Doris Helgenberger." Keen light eyes narrowed. "Do I know you, young man?"

"From a long time ago," Alec said truthfully. "We met a few times when I was a little boy. I used to visit Naomi."

Understanding dawned. "You're the child she helped through the Outreach Program," she said. "You spent part of one summer with Naomi back in ..." She squinted, trying to remember.

"Back in '05," Lydecker supplied for her.

She nodded with satisfaction. "Your name's Dodger." She studied him a moment, looking into Alec's face. "I remember your eyes," she added ... they're a beautiful color ... and that blond hair, grown out a bit now from that buzz cut ... You were so quiet at first, but then you were so talkative ...

"High verbal," Alec said with a little smile, acknowledging the assessment. "My real name's Alec," he added with a defiant look at Lydecker who remained silent. "I need to talk to Naomi. Do you think she'd mind if we went out to her house?"

"You don't need to," Doris said. "She's coming here shortly to help get dinner ready. The two of us often eat together in the evening now that our husbands are gone and the younger ones have scattered." She stepped back. "I'm not being a very good hostess. Come in ... Alec ... and you are?" She was looking at Lydecker.

"Donald," the Colonel said with a pleasant smile, offering her his hand to shake. "Donald Lydecker. I'm a friend of Alec's who came along to help him find Naomi."

Alec felt incredibly weird, sitting on the couch in the parlor chewing on a finger and looking around at one of his "dreams" come to life. He remembered so much about this house ... the old fireplace ... the oval braid rug on the floor ... the carved wooden sliding doors leading to the living room with its built-in book cases and piano. Behind him was an archway opening into a formal dining room complete with china cupboard ... beyond that the kitchen ... He knew the layout of the upstairs too for some reason ... a long hallway, three bedrooms, and a fourth to the back that had at one time been a small apartment ... a back staircase leading down to the garden ... a spooky attic that smelled of ancient secrets ... All discovered by a curious exploring little boy? Know the lay of the land Manticore had always preached.

His eyes snagged on a portrait displayed above the fireplace -- two lovely teenage girls dressed in formal wear ... Doris' daughters, painted in the mid 1970's, but for the life of him he couldn't remember their names even though they'd held his hand when they walked in the woods at Hickory Hill. Manticore had jumbled so much in his mind ...

Doris brought hot tea which tasted surprisingly good to the X5. She laughed when she saw him put two sugars in the cup.

"You always liked sweets," she said. "You used to eat cake and ice cream as if you'd never tasted it before."

Alec cocked an eyebrow at Lydecker who was studying another portrait on the wall, thinking how surprised Doris would be if she knew how literally true that was.

"What brings you looking for Naomi after all these years?" the woman asked.

"We were just passing through the area," Alec said, ready for this question, "and I decided it would be nice to look up some old friends. Do you still go out to the cabin?"

Doris' mouth turned down in a frown. "No. Over time, as the kids grew up and away, we used it less and less. There were break-in problems ... vandalism ... and the whole area went so downhill after The Pulse ... trashy trailers and shantys springing up everywhere, ruining the landscape and the woods. We finally sold it."

"At least you have the memories," Alec said, all too familiar with how nothing good could last forever.

She stood, moved to one of the built-in book case, pulled down a photo album, flipped several pages, then handed it to Alec. "Like I said, you were a very handsome little boy."

Alec looked down at a picture of a child in jeans and a grey t-shirt with buzz cut hair and extremely big green-gold eyes standing in the middle of a group of teenagers. Surprisingly, he seemed quite at home in that setting ... smiling ... happy ... as if he belonged there ...

Lydecker, looking over his shoulder at the photo, paled visibly, and it occurred to Alec that photographing the X5 lab rats on their little outings had probably been strictly forbidden. Even after all these years the Colonel appeared about to have a stroke over the breach of rules.

"It doesn't matter now," Alec said quietly.

"No," the Colonel replied heavily. "I suppose it doesn't."

Alec smiled cockily at Doris, and was about to make a darkly witty remark regarding lethal good looks when he heard footsteps on the porch. His head swiveled toward the door as the dog barked again in the back yard. Lydecker rose to his feet. Putting down his cup of tea, the X5 followed suit, suddenly aware that the palms of his hands were sweating.

Doris met her sister at the entrance. "Look who's come to visit," she said cheerfully, nodding toward her two guests as a thin, slightly stooped woman with pure white hair arranged in a tight bun carefully stepped over the threshold. Straightening, Naomi Stendahl ... or rather Naomi Miller ... looked over the two men. Alec, she didn't seem to recognize, but when her eyes fell on the Colonel they widened with what the X5 recognized as fear.

"Naomi," Lydecker said softly, offering one of his most ruthless smiles.

A cold knot was forming in Alec's stomach. Something was going on here that he didn't understand.

"Donald," Naomi said carefully, setting down the grocery sack she was carrying on a nearby table along with her purse.

Dressed in a blue blouse and slacks, she actually looked much the same as Alec remembered even though almost ten years had passed. All that was missing was the apron ...

"Look who else is here!" Doris exclaimed -- oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's little Dodger, the boy from the Outreach Program who spent part of that summer with us. Hasn't he grown up to be just the handsomest young man?"

"What are you doing here?" Naomi said, the look on her face anything but welcoming. She advanced a step toward Lydecker. "I haven't done anything! I never told a soul! You promised me if I kept quiet I'd be in no danger!"

Doris looked in bewilderment from the men to her sister. "What--?"

"Don't ask!" Naomi exclaimed, holding out a hand so silence the other woman. "Go to the kitchen," she ordered. "Now!"

"Naomi, what's wrong?" Doris argued.

"There's ice cream in the bag that needs to go in the freezer," her sister said, with effort tearing her eyes away from the man she was obviously terrified of. "And the chicken needs to go in the oven. Please, see to it while I speak with our ... guests."

Shaking her head in wonder, Doris did as Naomi asked, rescuing the bag of groceries from the table and vanishing through the archway to the dining room and kitchen beyond.

Naomi waited until the other woman was out of earshot then ... "Are you here to kill me?"

"No!" The word burst from Alec's lips before Lydecker could respond.

"You told me that if I ever saw you again, it would be because you'd come to eliminate me," Naomi said, ignoring the X5. "You told me it would be because I'd betrayed my confidentiality agreement. Well, I've never betrayed you, Donald. I've never told a living soul about--" Suddenly she was staring at Alec in a way that made him feel like something dirty. "--about this," she finished. She eyed Alec critically from head to toe. "You're really him, aren't you? That little boy who should never have been born?"

"Apparently so," Alec said dryly, the lump in his throat fading as his pride asserted itself. "Or at least I'm the little boy who's hand you held while we walked in the woods, and who you let lick the frosting off the beaters when I sat in the kitchen watching you make a cake."

She couldn't meet his eyes.

"When did I become a 'thing,' Naomi?" he asked softly.

"You told me he wouldn't remember," she said stiffly, speaking again to Lydecker. "You promised it would be over, that he'd be--"

"Simplified," the Colonel finished the sentence. "The memories erased." He glanced at his man. "He was reindoctrinated, Naomi -- twice. But he remembers anyway, and now that doesn't matter. In fact, it could be a good thing. You know, don't you, that Manticore's gone and the experiments scattered."

"I know people are still dying because of that place," the woman said bitterly. "And because of the monsters you created."

Again Alec flinched. He wanted to tell her he wasn't a monster -- but he couldn't because, in a way, what she said was true.

"Did he grow up to be a good killer, Donald?" she asked, once more raking Alec with a scathing eye. "Did you teach that little boy how to be an elite assassin?"

"Yes," the Colonel said. "494 grew up to be all that, and more. But then you always knew he'd be one of the successful ones, Naomi. After all, it was your son, Jack, who was the template."

"Don't remind me!" Naomi shouted, her small gnarled hands balling into fists at her sides. "Don't remind me how my only son's DNA was used to create a perversion!"

"Enough with the name calling, lady," Alec said, his voice deepening in that way it did when he was becoming truly angry. "Yes, I'm a transgenic, but I'm no more a monster than your precious Jack was."

"You are what they made you!" she spat at him. "I've read about the things the X5s did ... the atrocities they're responsible for. Why, one of you killed the Pope. I know ... I know from reading the accounts in the newspaper. It had to have been one of you! Shame!"

"Yes, one of my kids killed the Pope," Lydecker conceded. "But it wasn't Alec ... Dodger."

"But you have killed, right?" Naomi challenged, looking directly into Alec's eyes.

"Of course I have," Alec replied quietly. "Like you said, it's what I was bred to do. But now ... now everything is different. I'm a free man -- sort of. And I need your help."

She did a doubletake. "My help? How on earth could I help you? More importantly, why would I?"

"You would because -- as much as you hate what Manticore created using your son's genes -- you hate your ex-husband even more," Lydecker said bluntly. "Davis wants to destroy Alec, and we think it has something to do with the fact Jack's DNA was used in his cocktail." He put a hand on Naomi's bony shoulder, and she let it stay there. "Anything you could tell us about Jack would be helpful, Naomi. What was the root of the hatred between him and his father? Why didn't Davis even attend his own son's funeral? Why did he once before try to destroy the twin boys who contained Jack's genes?"

The Colonel nodded at a chair, and the old woman sat down heavily, her grey eyes no longer looking quite so sharp as the shock of the situation began to hit home. "You worked on the X series program, Naomi," Lydecker pressed. "You know what Manticore was trying to do, and at one time you were proud to have Jack's DNA in the gene pool. I pulled a lot of strings that summer to have your son's donor recipient put into your care so you could get to know your 'grandchild' as you called him back then."

"But then you ended the visitation program," Naomi said, the bitterness back. "You told me I could never see that little boy again, so I tried to put him out of my mind. And then I found out that you were turning those children into cold blooded, soulless killers ..." She looked to Alec once more. "I'd hoped all these years that you were dead ... that you'd been one of the X5s deemed unworthy of existence, or that you'd died of the seizure disorder. Instead ..." She gave a nasty little laugh. "Here you are, right on my doorstep like a shameful skeleton popping out of the family closet."

An apt analogy, Alec supposed ... "Naomi," he tried, launching into the passionate speech he'd been silently practicing. "You don't know me, not as an adult. It sounds cliched to say I've changed, but I have. I'm not Manticore any more ... at least not all of me. I live with my people ... my family ... out in Gillette, Wyoming. I have a mate, and she's going to have my son. Davis Stendahl has something that Max -- the woman I love more than life itself -- needs to survive, and he'll only turn it over if I give myself up to him. He wants to cut me into little pieces, Naomi ... turn me into a cyborg ... destroy my mind and my soul as well as my body. He's been after me for years, and right now I really, really need to know all of the reasons why."

He knelt on the floor in front of her then and took her cold thin hands into his own big warm ones, turning on all the charm and persuasion Manticore had gifted him with. Looking directly into her eyes, X5-494 then did something he'd never done before in his life. He begged. "Please," he said softly. "Tell me about my father. Tell me about Jack, and why I'm going to have to die because of him."

Tears were sparkling in those grey depths. Sliding one hand out from between Alec's, Naomi reached up and gently caressed his beard stubbled cheek ... his hair. "You really aren't a 'thing' are you child?" she said. "You're just a boy ..."

Lydecker cleared his throat. "If you need my permission to tell him what you know, you have it," he said. "No repercussions. I promise. Manticore's over and done with." He smiled chillingly. "I work for the good guys now."

Alec raised an eyebrow at that, not certain he totally agreed, but he wisely didn't let loose the smart aleck remark poised on the tip of his tongue.

"There's a lot of Jack in your eyes, you know," Naomi said, still stroking Alec's hair with her hand as he knelt before her. "Oh, not the color, but the light in them ... the spirit ... so mischievous and knowing ..."

Jack's and a soap opera queen's, Alec thought to himself, not really caring at that moment who's eyes he had. "Why did Stendahl hate his son so much?" he asked, his sense of empathy telling him the time was now or never with Naomi. "Was it because of the execution? Was that the only reason?"

"Jack's so-called treason was just the final catalyst," Naomi said slowly, sliding her hand back between Alec's where he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Davis hated my son, practically from the moment he was born, although of course he denied it for years. But I could see ... A mother knows these things, when her child is in danger ..."

"Hated him since he was born?" Lydecker spoke up. "Why? It was his only son, for God's sake."

"Not really," Naomi said, her eyes growing keen again as a long-held dark secret saw the light of day at last. "You see, Davis wasn't Jack's father. I'd had an affair with a man I loved more than him ... far more than him ..."

Lydecker was looking almost frightened. "If Davis wasn't Jack's sire, then who the hell was, Naomi? When you entered Jack into the gene bank ... allowed his samples to be collected ... you filled out paperwork swearing as to his parentage. Are you telling me both of you lied?"

"I'm the only one who lied, Donald," Naomi said. "Jack was just a child, and he didn't know the truth back then. It was only later that I told him."

"Who then?" Lydecker challenged her. "Who's DNA does this Unit have in his cocktail if not yours and Davis Stendahl's through Jack?"

"Oh, I think you know, Donald," Naomi said with a smug little smile. "I think you, of all people, know."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

On the one hand, Alec was actually relieved that old Davis wasn't his genetic granddaddy. On the other hand, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop -- and from the look on 'Deck's face he had a feeling it was gonna be a loud thud.

"Oh, don't tell me," Alec said. "Please, God, no tell me it's not--"

"It wasn't me," Lydecker snapped.

Naomi snorted at that. "Of course not," she confirmed. Then she tilted her chin. "But you remember, don't you, Donald? That summer the year before Jack was born and you and Davis went off to fight in the Middle East? We were all just kids really ... barely more than teenagers, but we thought we knew everything."

Alec did the math in his head and realized Naomi Stendahl Miller wasn't as old as he'd first thought. She was really Lydecker's age, in her mid fifties. But her hair was white and she looked a lot older -- then again, The Pulse and its harsh aftermath had done that to a lot of people ...

Lydecker was just staring at her.

"That's right, Donald," the woman said, looking straight at him. "Your precious X5 Unit has your own brother's DNA inside of him somewhere."

Almost as bad, Alec thought as a cold sweat broke out all over his body, and his grip on Naomi's hands tightened.

"No," Lydecker breathed. "You mean to say you and Danny ..."

"Were lovers," Naomi said. "For one brief, glorious month we were the light of each other's lives while you and Davis were off fighting Arabs or whatever they were. I got pregnant right before the two of you returned. Davis knew, of course -- Jack looked far too much like Danny. He hated the boy so much ... and the court martial was the last straw."

"I gotta sell my story to Hollywood," Alec muttered, as usual fighting the fears of his reality with humor. "It's worth a fortune. Trouble is, no one would believe it so it'd hafta be a scifi flick."

"Shut up," Lydecker said.

"Your wish is my command, uncle," Alec snarked. "Or technically, would that be great-uncle?"

"If you ever call me that again, soldier, I will kill you."

"Yeah, yeah." Alec glanced around the old fashioned room. "Is brother Danny now gonna pop outta the woodwork to join our little soap opera here?"

"Danny died a long time ago," Naomi said. "He was a soldier too, you know -- a good man worthy of passing on his genetics more than Davis. I'm glad he was Jack's father, and Manticore was lucky to have part of his DNA in their gene bank."

The Colonel was remaining strangely silent.

"Why'd you use Jack's DNA at such a young age?" Alec had to ask.

"Because I was one of the senior technicians in the original gene-gathering program," Naomi said, smiling again now. "Like all mothers, I thought my son was exceptional, so I added his material to the collection." She regarded Alec with a critical eye. "When I found out later his sample had been used and viable children produced I began attempting to monitor those Units. When the so-called Outreach Project was initiated, I recognized 494 as being one of Jack's progeny and petitioned to be a foster mother." She eyed Lydecker. "Strings were pulled of course. It went against protocol for a quasi-relative to be fraternizing with one of the Units, but I managed it anyway. We had several good outings together, you and I, then the project was terminated and I was told I'd never see you again."

She stood up, bringing Alec up with her from his knees, still holding onto both of his hands. "Later, I found out what the X5s were really being trained to do ... what was being done to make you into killers. I couldn't stand the thought of that bright, happy child I'd played games with and baked cookies for being brainwashed and tortured into becoming a soulless murderer, so I quit the program ... quit my position at Manticore. And then I simply ran away, back here to my home, divorced Davis, remarried, tried to forget ... Then, of course Jack was court martialled for doing the right thing ... the moral thing ..."

Alec knew how that felt. "Did Jack ever know about me?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I never told him he had a partially cloned son."

"Probably better that way," Alec said quietly, putting himself in that young man's shoes and knowing he, himself, would rather have not known such a fact, especially when there wouldn't have been a damn thing he could have done to rescue the child ... his son.

"Do you blame me for abandoning you, Dodger?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Of course not," Alec said vehemently. "I'm just glad Manticore didn't kill you for what you knew about me and the research. Believe it or not, you were one of the lucky ones -- to have survived. Oh, by the way, I go by Alec now."

"Alec?" she said. Then she smiled again. "It suits you somehow. How did you come up with the name?"

"It was a gift," he said softly, looking Naomi straight in the eyes again. "From someone who loves me. It's who I am now."

Lydecker just nodded.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

They had what they'd come for. Naomi Miller, of course, pleaded with them to not go to her ex-husband. After all, she'd just found her long lost "grandson" and didn't want to lose him again.

"Max's life depends on this," Alec said as he and the Colonel stood taking their leave on the porch. It was growing dark. If the brewing rainstorms held off they'd arrive at Stendahl's West Virginia base of operations before midnight, and theoretically Lydecker could have Max's lifesaving treatment back to Gillette within another day.

She hugged him then, weeping for the little boy who was a part of her, and Alec's eyes had filled with tears as well as he kissed her once on the cheek. Then -- like the soldier he was -- X5-494 gently set his grandmother aside, turned his back, and walked away.

Alec wasn't very hungry on this leg of the journey. He rode silently beside the Colonel who wasn't talkative either, even though Daniel Lydecker's presence loomed between them like the proverbial elephant in the room.

"They say cat's have nine lives," Alec finally said as they turned onto the ramp leading off of Route 23 and onto the road that would take them to the obscure little town located just south of Charleston called -- of all things -- "Comfort." It was where Stendahl had told them to come via Lydecker's contacts. "You suppose I have any of 'em left?"

"Maybe," Lydecker said gruffly. "Don't give up yet, son. I'm not going to. Especially not after last winter when I lost part of my own family to save your sorry ass from this maniac. I'm not about to just hand you over to him now."

"You got a plan?" Alec wondered, because he sure as heck was fresh out of them.

"I've got two," Lydecker said. "The first one is we somehow talk Davis into giving us Max's treatment and also letting you go, maybe by using what we found out from Naomi and making the bastard see that his vendetta against you is an act of insanity."

Alec sighed heavily at that pie-in-the-sky idea. "And number two?"

The Colonel grew quiet again.

"'Deck, what is it?"

"You'll have to put that nine lives theory to the test I'm afraid." He reached into the pocket of his flight jacket and pulled out a small flat metal case which he handed to Alec.

"What's this?" the X5 asked, examining the odd little box.

"Open it," Lydecker said. "But don't touch what's inside."

Cocking an eyebrow, Alec did as he was told, opening the compact to see a thin clear gelatinous object about the size of a quarter. Curious, he sniffed the contents and detected a faint odor of almonds.

"It's a cyanide patch," the Colonel said quietly, his eyes remaining carefully riveted on the rainy road ahead and the oncoming headlights. "You put that on the roof of your mouth. All you have to do is press it hard with your tongue and the poison's released." He finally turned his head to look at his companion. "A human will be dead in forty seconds. An X5 will take a bit longer ... a minute and a half maybe."

Alec swallowed hard, his eyes also carefully fixed on the slick black asphalt, his hands resting quietly on his knees. "Will it hurt?"

"Yes," Lydecker replied bluntly. "A lot. But it will be relatively quick, and once it's over ... it's really over. Stendahl or even God himself won't be able to resuscitate you. Your organs and other body parts will be useless as well ... contaminated."

"Guess that would be the ninth life over," Alec said in a very small voice as he glanced down at the deadly device in his hands, and wondering briefly if there were any more "Book of the Dead's" lying around in the world.

"Guess it would be."

"Thank you," 494 said. Then he snapped the case shut and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. The rest of the ride to Comfort, West Virginia was made in utter silence.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

Stendahl's big secret headquarters were a lot less impressive than Alec had thought they'd be. No mansion or Medieval-style castle ... no military complex bristling with barbed wire and gun turrets ... just a plain single-story white building sitting back off a dead-end road in one of West Virginia's mountain hollows. If it weren't for the stylized Manticore symbol emblazoned below "Technologies for the Future" on the sign by the front door, he'd have thought they were in the wrong place.

A shiver raced down Alec's spine at the site of that lion/eagle creature, an emblem that had both encompassed and overshadowed his entire life, representing not only his makers and training, but his body itself.

Davis Stendahl met them at the door, blue eyes bright and smiling broadly as he opened it. Dressed in a casual tweed suit with open collar and no tie, he portrayed the host greeting welcome and expected guests to his home. Alec, hanging slightly back from Lydecker, wrinkled his nose at the smell wafting through the opening -- antiseptic, like a hospital, and something else ... Formaldehyde? Blood? His gut clenched, and he had to physically fight the urge to turn and flee. Self preservation was a hard instinct to ignore, especially for an X5.

"I see you've brought my property," Stendahl said, looking Alec over as if he were livestock. His smile broadened. "And I trust that, this time, the Unit won't be mysteriously spirited away from my operating table."

"Not if you hold up your end of the bargain, Davis," Lydecker said gruffly. "As far as I'm concerned, it's this Unit's life in trade for what you have that will save X5-452 from her advancing progeria."

This Unit's life ...

The words rang in Alec's ears, overwhelming all else in his mind. He was going to die, and very soon. This wasn't like in Egypt when the knife in his heart had come swiftly and with such unexpectedness he hadn't had time to be afraid. This was far, far worse ... the waiting ... and the fact he'd be committing suicide. The faint taste of almonds caressed his tongue ...

But it wasn't quite time yet -- not until Max's life had been insured.

"I'll have her one day, too, you know," Stendahl chuckled. "For use as a breeder. That's mostly what we keep the females for, you know -- to produce males for the cybernetic implants. Males hold up to the surgery better -- make better material -- but we still need X5 ova."

Tears were pricking Alec's eyes. What this monster was doing was beyond horrible. How could people like this exist in the world?

Stendahl motioned two of his cyborgs forward to take charge of the new "material" and Alec tensed, looking at Lydecker like a desperate child appealing to a father for protection.

"Not yet!" the Colonel said sharply, holding out his arm to bar the automatons' way. "Not until I have Max's cure in my hand."

"Oh, very well," Stendahl sighed, reaching into the pocket of his tweed jacket. He pulled out a vial of clear liquid. "It's a catalyst," he said. "We use it to induce partial stasis in the cyborg units while they're undergoing the most radical surgical procedures. It slows the metabolism yet still allows them to heal. We've already had two X5 specimens lapse into progeria during the past year. This stopped the onslaught almost immediately ... even reversed some of the symptoms, buying us time to do the DNA rebuild necessary to finish the cure."

"What about the baby?" Alec had to ask. And then he was sorry because it brought Stendahl's inhumanly cold gaze down on top of him.

"It's never been used on a pregnant female," the man said. "But there's no reason it should cause any side effects. Our scientists don't believe it will cross the placenta. That much has been studied."

Lydecker pocketed the vial, then turned and looked at his soldier. "I'll give you five million dollars for him," he said quietly, speaking to Stendahl but still with his eyes on Alec. "Let him come home with me now and payment can be arranged within twenty-four hours."

Alec's chin rose a fraction. Five million dollars was a lot of money, and he had no idea where on Earth 'Deck thought he'd get that kind of dough. But what really astounded him was to hear the Colonel offer that in return for the life of one of his most flawed soldiers.

For just a second, Stendahl hesitated, and Alec's heart leaped with hope.

"I am running short of cash," the Major said, chewing on his lower lip as he thought this new proposition over. Once more he scathingly looked Alec over. "But I'm running even shorter on flesh to use in building my creations, and I've been after this piece of meat for a long time. As you well know, and were wise to not mention, I have a personal interest in this as well." He shook his head. "No deal."

"Six million," Lydecker said. "That's more than even the Reds would pay for a bio weapons system like Alec."

"Ten," Stendahl shot back. "Ten million dollars and you can take your boy toy back home with you." He held up his hand before the other man could answer. "And think of this before you turn me down. That handsome face of 494's won't be handsome after I get through with him. Good looks aren't high on my list of priorities for my cyborgs. Functionality and obedience are all that really count, not high cheekbones and pouty lips. Those pretty colored eyes might be attractive to the females, but they're of no use to me. They'll be gouged from their sockets and replaced with mechanical laser-sight orbs. His head will be shaved, his scalp removed, and pieces of his skull cut out with a bone saw to make way for diode connections and metal plating. Those pearly white teeth will be yanked, replaced by easier to maintain aluminum stubs. Need I describe more, Donald? Like how the first procedure he'll undergo will be castration, strapped down, unanesthetized, fully conscious and knowing exactly what's happening to him my doctors will geld him -- one of many procedures and tortures he'll undergo to extinguish that flame of independence the Manticore lab boys put into your precious X5 kids. He'll be broken, Donald -- body, mind, and spirit utterly destroyed."

"Hey!" Alec said, his voice deep and dangerous, and with only a hint of a quiver. "I'm standing right here."

Stendahl didn't even look at him, but continued to speak of his prize in the third person -- as if he were truly a thing. "Of course he might not mind castration as much as you'd think, since the nanocytes will already have been injected into his blood stream, and will be busily eating away at his brain, a precursor to the transorbital lobotomy he'll undergo -- also without anesthetic -- that will make him compliant and pliable for reprogramming." He winked at Alec then. "They say it's agony worse than anything you could ever imagine, but afterwards you'll be a clean slate for me to write on -- physically as well as psychologically."

Alec took aim on the sadistic madman, muscles coiling, knowing that if he never did another thing in his life, he had to kill this perverted creature. But he'd underestimated the intuition of Stendahl's cyborgs.

Even as he launched himself through the air, he saw them move out of the corner of his eye, blurring. And then fingers of literal raw steel were digging into his arms, tearing his flesh and holding him as helpless as a baby. Cold red eyes stared into his, mere inches away, and blue-tinged lips parted to show a row of shiny metal teeth.

Briefly, Alec wondered what X5 this horror had once been, and whether he might have known him. No way to tell since the bone structure of its face had been smashed beyond recognition and replaced with metal plates ...

He was tempted at that moment to take the poison, but Lydecker hadn't gotten safely away yet, so Alec knew he had to wait. Stifling a whimper because his right arm was slowly being broken, he bit down on his tongue instead and waited, panting lightly, knowing his breaths were numbered.

Lydecker's face was now as white as a sheet's. "Ten it is," he said roughly. "But I'll need a couple of days. I don't have that much anywhere to wire into an account. I may even need some of my kids to pull a job." He looked away from Alec to Stendahl. "But I swear, Davis. I'll get it for you. I'll take the antidote to Max, and be back within three days. Just ... just don't do anything to this Unit in the meantime, because if you so much as touch a hair on his head the deal will be off."

"Ten million?" Stendahl said, his blue eyes widening with something akin to astonishment. "This ..." He flicked a finger at Alec as he stood hanging in the grip of the cyborgs, "... this thing is worth that much money to you? Why, Donald? You never used to be so sentimental."

"Let's just say I recently found out that 494's a bit of a long lost relative of mine," the Colonel said cagily.

"Of course," Stendahl said, grinning. "Which is another reason I need to see his DNA contained and his personality destroyed. Jack never should have been born, let alone had his DNA preserved in the likes of an X5. But then I suppose the X5s are really all made out of little bits of many people, aren't they?"

He motioned the cyborgs to let Alec put his feet on the ground, and the young transgenic sighed with relief as the pressure came off his arms. However, blood was running in rivulets down over his wrists, and it felt as if his right shoulder might be dislocated.

"You really don't look like Jack," Stendahl remarked offhandedly.

Alec wisely said nothing.

"You hate your wife's son that much?" Lydecker said softly as it started to rain, the fine drops coming down in a mist on the group of men and man-machines, God weeping.

"Yes," Stendahl said. He motioned to the cyborgs. "Take this piece of meat inside, strip it down, and secure it in a holding room. You know the procedure. Also, it's to have no food or water unless I say so." Then, to Lydecker, "I'll give you seventy-two hours to bring me the ten million dollars. Not one minute longer." He checked his watch. "After that, your kid's going to lose his balls, his brains, and his limbs -- in that order. His semen will be banked, and his organs will be sold on the black market. They pay a pretty penny overseas for transgenic hearts, livers, kidneys, and lungs you know, not to mention testicles -- I've heard transgenic gonads are considered some sort of super aphrodisiac in the far East. All that will really remain of your precious "Alec" is his spinal cord, pelvis, basic brain function, and some skin. Even his ribs will be replaced with a metal brace."

"Is that all this boy is to you?" Lydecker said. "He's worth more to you in pieces than he is whole?"

"Exactly," Stendahl chuckled. He tapped his watch. "Tick, tick," he chided, the gesture reminding Alec of another time in his life that a really bad guy had said that same thing to him. "Time's wasting, and I imagine 452 is growing older as we speak."

The Colonel looked as if he wanted to say something to him, and Alec held onto his eyes for a very long moment hoping for ... what he didn't know. A promise of some kind? But then Lydecker simply nodded at him once, turned, and headed for the car.

Tell Max I love her! Alec wanted to shout.

But Stendahl was staring at him now, and he wasn't going to give the bastard that satisfaction.

"Take him to the lab and have him prepped," the Major quietly ordered his men. He advanced and took Alec's chin in his hand while the claws once again clamped down on his biceps and a needle pierced his skin.

"Don't fight me," the X5 heard the madman say as the drug he'd just been injected with began to take effect. "Fight me and I can make the horror last forever."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & Eyes Only

"So," Max said with surprising calmness, "we have to pay the Devil his due."

"That about sums it up," Lydecker said wearily. "Although where we'll get another four million dollars in forty-eight hours I have no idea." He'd driven like a mad man with no regard to posted speed limits straight through to Gillette, making the trip in a little under 12 hours. Talking to Max on his cell phone numerous times during the trip, the two of them had already tried to come up with a way to raise so much cash on such short notice. Now, the grey beard stubble on his craggy face made the Colonel look far older than his 56 years, as did the beaten weary look in his watery blue eyes.

Max sat up in her bed ... the one she usually shared with Alec (his scent was still on the sheets). She'd been injected with Stendahl's catalyst as soon as 'Deck put it into Luke's hand, but so far she didn't feel any different ... hadn't noticed any change. Glancing at the mirror on the small bureau she saw her hair was still as grey as it had been the day before.

What if they'd all been duped? What if she'd sacrificed her lover for nothing?

But Lydecker's news that Stendahl was willing to sell her man back to her had been heartening, even though the price was so steep. Now, Alec had a chance -- just like she and their baby hopefully did.

Four million, Max thought to herself. Oddly, it was the same amount she'd been told to raise after Logan Cale's kidnapping two years before. She didn't even want to know where Lydecker had gotten his hands on the other six -- or why he was willing to spend it all on one of his supposedly most disappointing kids.

"I'll get my men on it," she said. "Mole ... Joshua ... they'll rob Fort Knox if they have to if it means saving Alec.

"I'll need to have it by this time tomorrow," Lydecker said. "If I'm to make the deadline."

"But you've already got the six?" Max questioned.

The Colonel nodded.

"You've been holding out on us," Max said with a little smile. "But then that's about what I'd expect from you."

"Hey," the older man said. "I'm willing to spend it on him. Isn't that enough to finally prove to you I'm no longer the enemy, Max?"

"You'll always be the enemy to me, Donald," Max said softly, her voice deadly. "Don't think this is going to change anything, because it won't. I'll never trust you, and I'll never forgive you for what you did to us as children."

Lydecker simply looked at her, his eyes not showing any emotion at all.

"But I will thank you," Max added more gently. "For saving my life, my baby's, and hopefully Alec's -- or at least for trying."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

Alec did fight ... fought the numbness of the thorazine he'd been injected with that turned his limbs to water ... fought the brutal hands ripping off his clothes ... fought the shackles and the probing fingers and his chest and belly being wiped down in stingingly cold alcohol. Finally -- prepped for surgery as ordered except for the shaving -- he was left lying on an icy linoleum floor in a room so glaringly white it was blinding. Curled in a fetal position with his eyes tightly closed, X5-494 lay just breathing, trying to still the shaking in his limbs as panic wormed its way around the mind-numbing drug and threatened to overwhelm his sanity.

Lydecker would be back with the money. He'd be rescued, and Max and the baby would be fine. There was hope ...

There was also the cyanide.

He blessed the Colonel for that ... for giving him an escape if all else failed. It was a comfort to him, that faint taste of bitter almonds and the knowledge that all he had to do was press his tongue hard to the roof of his mouth and he'd be beyond Stendahl's reach forever.

Time passed -- he had no idea how much. No one gave him any food or water, and his mouth went from dry to parched to pure cotton. But he could still taste the almonds ...

He slept ... awakened ... crawled to a corner and urinated, then curled up against the back wall, hugging himself, his revved up metabolism the only thing keeping his teeth from chattering as the fine hairs on his body stood on end in a primitive attempt to preserve warmth.

Then finally -- after what seemed both an eternity and only a few minutes -- the door creaked, metal on hinges, opening, warmer air tempering the chilly room. Alec closed his eyes more tightly, clenching teeth, willing whoever it was to go away. Was he out of time? Should he use his escape? The tip of his tongue touched the cyanide patch. A minute and a half Lydecker had said ... 90 seconds of agony followed by an eternity of nothingness ... There were worse fates he knew ...

His transgenic senses, even dulled as they were with the thorazine, told the X5 that a single entity had entered the cell. He could hear faint breathing as someone stood over him ... looked down at him ...

"Alec?" a man's voice said, uttering his human name in a surprisingly gentle way.

Not Lydecker, Alec thought, nostrils flaring slightly. It doesn't smell like Lydecker ...

Fingers brushed his bare shoulder, and the animal in the X5 reacted, an arm as strong as three men's lashing out to grab his perceived molester by the throat. Only then did brilliant golden green eyes snap open to glare with pure unadulterated hatred into another pair of eyes that Alec -- impossible as it was -- knew.

For a long breath the two men looked into each other's souls through those eyes, each as captivated as the other by this incredible moment the Fates had decreed. Father and ... son? Meeting at last?

But Jack Stendahl's dead.

"Who the fuck are you?" 494 growled.

The dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a three-days growth of beard smiled through the choke hold he was unsuccessfully trying to break. "She said you had my attitude," he gasped with difficulty. "That you were as bad ass as me."

"She?" Alec mumbled, shaking his head, still not comprehending, even as his grip loosened.

"I'll explain later," the stranger who wasn't really a stranger said. "Right now we've got to get you out of here before the old man finishes sharpening his knives. You're scheduled for the butcher's table in less than an hour. I barely made it here in time. I'm Jack by the way, your long lost daddy -- so to speak -- come back to life."

"How ...?" Alec tried.

"No time for that now," Jack said, gripping Alec beneath the arm and pulling him to his feet. "Can you walk? Old Davis shot you up with enough thorazine to drop a tiger, but according to your chart that was awhile ago so it should be wearing off."

Alec let himself lean on the other man as he tried to make his feet move. His legs were tingling from lack of circulation and lying clenched for so long on the frigid floor.

"Here," Jack said, handing him a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. "Put these on. We'll worry about shoes later."

Still supported by that caring hand, Alec struggled into the jeans (that were a size too big and so long he had to roll up the legs), and tugged the shirt over his head.

"Now, we get you out of here, son," Jack said, pulling a gun from the waistband of his own khakis and zipping tighter the olive flight jacket he was wearing, "before they come for you."

Alec wasn't all that surprised to see an unconscious (or dead?) human guard outside the holding room door. Jack had, after all, been Black Ops.

"Naomi told you about me," the X5 said quietly as they slipped down a long dark hallway -- a statement, not a question.

"She was on the phone to me minutes after you left Chillicothe," Jack said. "She knew what Davis would do to you, out of revenge over me."

Alec glanced at the man who's DNA made up a large part of his "cocktail." "You were only twelve when Naomi tossed your genes into the pool," he said. "Pretty bold of her."

"You mean egotistical," Jack chuckled, dark brown eyes twinkling with humor. "Mom always did think I was special, and when she had a chance to contribute to the data bank ..." He shrugged. "Why not?"

"And look what popped outta the oven with your ingredients in it," Alec said.

Jack's face darkened. "I understand your twin brother had problems that got him killed."

"Ben?" Alec said. "Yeah. He got kind of broken -- maybe 'cause he never had your mother's tender loving care as a kid. Guess, in spite of everything, I was the lucky one there."

"I don't believe in luck," the older man said. "But I do believe in Destiny."

Another thing -- besides our genes -- we have in common, Alec thought.

They'd reached the end of the corridor. Alec was feeling better by the minute, his head clearing as he moved, and hope giving him strength. There was a cyborg behind a desk just in front of the door up ahead. Jack pulled out his gun, but Alec's hand on his wrist stayed the man. "They'll hear," the X5 said. "Let me handle it."

"You can't take down a machine like that, Alec."

The X5 smiled for the first time. "No? Just watch me."

Jack still had hold of his arm. "I didn't come all this way to see you get yourself killed."

Alec regarded his rescuer through slightly narrowed eyes. "You really don't know what an X5 is, do you?" he said quietly. "What we're capable of."

"I've heard the stories," Jack said. "Not that I believed all of them."

"Well believe," Alec shot back. Then he turned and, in a single graceful move, leaped the 15 feet from their hiding place to land on top of the desk, catching the Unit totally by surprise. Stendahl's little lecture about rearranging his own anatomy had been intended to terrify -- but it had also served to let Alec know quite a bit about cyborg physiology. They had weak points.

His bare foot lashed out in a blurred side kick, catching the slower creature directly on the throat, pushing through, and snapping its neck. Without a sound, the pieces of X5 and machinery dropped like a sack of kindling to the floor. Still standing on top of the desk, 494 flashed a triumphant grin at his genetic donor, then gave a thumb's up sign. "And that's what I'm talkin' about," he said easily.

Which is when the alarm began to sound.

"Let's go! Jack shouted, dashing for the door.

Alec jumped down from the desk and followed his "dad" into the back parking lot of the Manticore factory. It helped that it was night time, although how late Alec wasn't certain. Racing across the tarmac, they headed into the woods where a short distance away Jack had parked a wicked looking black Ninja motorcycle not unlike Max's bike.

"Man's got good taste," Alec commented as he hopped on behind his savior and wrapped arms around the guy's waist.

Jack already had the engine purring, and as guards and cyborgs poured out of "Technologies of the Future," they sped off into the night.

*****

Jack Stendahl

"I gather Lydecker couldn't come up with the money," Alec said. They'd stopped in a small town off the main road about 50 miles from Comfort, heading indirectly west.

"What money?" Jack asked as he rummaged through the saddle bags on the Ninja. When his fellow rider didn't answer, he looked back at the younger man to see Alec carefully removing something from his mouth. "And what's that?" he added.

"Old 'Deck was tryin' to raise ten million dollars to buy me back from your Mom's ex, and this--" Alec held up a clear piece of soft plastic. "--was gonna be my ticket to freedom if everything fell through."

At first Jack didn't understand, and dark brows drew down. But then he did-- "What is it?" he asked quietly. "Strychnine? Cyanide?"

"Cyanide," Alec confirmed, thinking to himself that it would be a long time before he took swallowing for granted again having been so damn careful all these hours not to accidentally ingest the poison.

"Courtesy of your friend Colonel Donald Lydecker?"

"Don't you mean courtesy of your uncle?"

"You know about that?" Jack said, sounding surprised. "That my father was really Lydecker's brother?"

"Your mother told us," Alec said. "She thought it might be useful information when we confronted the Major."

"Who still thinks of me as not only a bastard, but as a traitor."

"Not to mention dead," Alec said dryly. "How'd you manage to pull that off anyway?"

"Not too hard to do," Jack said as he dusted his hands off on his khakis then climbed back on board the bike. "I had some friends in high places who helped me fake my execution." He looked off into the distance. "Sometimes I still feel guilty about that ... that someone else died in my place ... I went into hiding then, and after The Pulse it was even easier to cover my tracks. Old Davis never knew."

"There were video cameras in that lab," Alec said. "He'll know now, and probably be gunnin' for both of us."

The dark-haired man's lips tightened, accenting the sharp planes of his handsome face. Although 12 years older than the X5, as well as slightly taller and darker complected, anyone looking at Jack Stendahl at that moment just might have seen a ghost of a resemblance to the child created from his genes -- not in the physicality, but in the demeanor. "Let him come then," he said. "I'll get you safely back to your transgenic conclave, then I can return to hiding. I have lots of friends and places to drop out of sight." He cocked an eye at his companion. "By the way, that was pretty impressive back there, how you took out that cyborg. I've read about the transgenics and the X5s and your feline DNA ... pretty much know your story ... but I always thought the scientists were exaggerating about your abilities."

Alec shrugged. "What can I say? I'm faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Oh, and did I mention ravishing dozens of willing damsels in my spare time?"

"One more thing we have in common then," Jack grinned.

"The speeding bullet and leaping thing, or the ravishing damsels thing?" Alec asked with a smirk of his own.

"Mom said you were a smart ass, just like me," Jack said, shaking his head. "The damsel thing. Now, come on. We've got a long ride to Gillette and I imagine your people are worried sick about you. It's too dangerous to call -- could be traced. By the way, I understand I'm about to become an uncle myself ..."

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"What the hell do you mean I'm too late!" Donald Lydecker roared, throwing the bearer bond for 10 million dollars down on the desk in front of Major Davis Stendahl. "We had a deal! I've still got an hour before my time is up! I want my boy, and I want him now!"

"He tried to escape," Stendahl replied in a tone as calm as the Colonel's was rabid. "In my opinion, that negated our deal. He was processed five hours ago. But I knew you'd want something for your trouble so, I decided to not sell these after all." He reached down beside his desk and picked up a large plastic garbage bag which he then upended. Human organs tumbled out, bloody, oozing, making a total mess of the paperwork on the desktop. There were gonads ... a heart ... kidneys ... a pair of hands ... eyeballs ... feet ...

Colonel Donald Lydecker -- monster of Manticore -- closed his eyes at the horrible site of his kid's remains, then turned around and spewed vomit all over the floor.

*****

Davis Stendahl waited until his nemesis had been escorted out of the building and off the grounds. Lydecker had, surprisingly, accepted the remains of the X5 Unit that had been sacrificed to make the charade complete. He doubted any DNA testing would be done, but there was still the problem that X5-494, in the flesh, was free and undoubtedly making a beeline for home along with--

"Have you identified the intruder?" he asked his sergeant.

"No, sir," the human soldier replied, his tone more fearful than apologetic. "His face isn't in our data base."

"Let me see the photograph," Stendahl snapped.

"Yes, sir," the boy said, handing his superior the enhanced digital photo of the man who'd helped the X5 prisoner escape the day before.

Stendahl stared for a very long time at the face of the dark-haired man in the photo. Then--

"Call off the Wyoming interception," he said quietly.

"But sir--"

"I said call it off!" he shouted. Then, more calmly, "This will be handled another way. There's no use attempting to re-capture the Unit right now. He's got too much help and will only elude us ... be made more wary. What we do is bide our time, and sooner or later 494 and his accomplice will become careless. I don't care if it takes months or years, but someday I'll be in the perfect position to take possession of my property, as well as to punish my--"

"Your what, sir?"

"Never mind, sergeant. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

*****

Max was feeling better -- just in time to want to die. Lydecker had returned, his mission a failure. Alec -- to all intents and purposes -- was dead. Lobotomized ... castrated ... vivisected ... violated in the worst way ... torn limb from limb with only bits of his brain, flesh, and nervous system still existing ...

She honestly didn't know whether to bury the pieces Lydecker had brought back or not ... whether to have a funeral or to try and stage a rescue of the "thing" her lover now was.

"I thought you said he had a way out!" she'd screamed at Lydecker when he'd broken the horrible news to her. "The cyanide--"

"Something must have gone wrong," the Colonel had said heavily. "Maybe he waited too long to use it ..."

They'd never know.

Throwing herself down on her bed, Max buried her face against her arm and let herself sob for the man she'd never have beside her again.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"Company coming," Dix said, his voice lacking its usual crispness. He glanced at the video camera covering the mountain path that led into the back of the base grounds and adjusted the focus. "Single motorcycle ... two riders."

"Probably lost dirt bikers," Mole said with utter disinterest from where he sat with his chair leaning back against a wall and his feet propped on the conference table.

Luke, his eyes red with tears, didn't even bother responding. Surprisingly, of all the core group of transgenics, the ditch digger/medic had taken the news of Alec's death the hardest. Mole, for his part, was already planning revenge with Dix as his cohort. Joshua was painting furiously over in the mess hall, dedicating a new mural to his murdered brother, working out his sorrow through his artistry. But it was the little albino nomalie Luke who was was mourning the most openly. He'd been crying for hours, not wanting Max to see, but unable to keep his sorrow inside. In his own way he'd worshipped the smart aleck "Alec," and realized perhaps better than all the others how 494 could never be replaced in any of their hearts.

"Well, they're heading for the main gate," Dix informed the group. "You might want to go down and point them in the right direction, as in anywhere but here.

Mole sighed heavily, picked up the short-muzzled shotgun that had been Alec's favorite weapon, and with a nod headed for the door. His X5 partner might be dead, but that didn't mean he could shirk his duties.

The dude driving the bike was Caucasian with black hair, cool sunglasses, and an Army jacket that looked like the real deal. Seeing the lizard man approaching the 12-foot high chain link fence that surrounded the Gillette base proper, the rider smiled broadly in a way that brought a shiver to Mole's spine.

That smile reminded him of Alec for some reason, as did the easy attitude and carefree slouch of the guy as he sat waiting with feet planted on the ground on either side of the Ninja. "Knock, knock, anyone home?" their visitor called out.

"They are if they know what's good for 'em," the man riding behind him said.

Mole stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of that voice, the cigar in his mouth dropping to the ground as he raised the shotgun. "Get off the bike!" he barked. "Slow and easy with your hands in the air!" Then he watched while both men did as he said, easing off the motorcycle seat, the one in back moving in a familiar way that made the lizard man's heart ache. But it couldn't be, because he wasn't coming home ever again. He was just imagining things ... wishful thinking ...

The second man -- slightly shorter than the first -- was also wearing sunglasses. Wind tousled long strands of dark blond hair.

"Nah!" Mole said, backing up a step but still keeping the gun aimed on the intruders. "It can't be. You're not--"

"Mole," Alec said sharply, smiling easily and slowly taking off the shades. "It's all right. It's really me. I don't know what Stendahl told Lydecker -- probably that I was dead -- but I got away. I'm all right."

"How do I know it's really you?" the lizard man challenged, his hands starting to shake on the weapon both out of fear and because he so much wanted this to be true. "You could be a clone, or worse, one of those cyborg things with my brother's body."

The driver was wisely standing silently, waiting for this to play out.

"Ask me somethin'," Alec said. "Anything."

Mole thought furiously, then-- "Back in Seattle, when Logan Cale was kidnapped, where did you and me wait for that gang to bring him."

"The Fremont Troll," Alec said without hesitation. "I fell asleep. You stood guard until Max called. Then we went to Lakeview Cemetery and found a slaughter."

"God. Damn," Mole breathed, lowering the gun. "It really is you."

"Really, really," Alec said, his voice tightening a bit. "Now let me in, 'cause I need to see Max."

Mole was already busy unlocking the gates. "Who's the ordinary?" the lizard man growled as they walked the motorcycle into the compound.

"Mole," Alec said. "Meet Jack Stendahl, my long lost, uh, DNA donor back from the dead."

"Resurrection must run in the family," Mole commented dryly.

"That and attitude," Jack added under his breath.

"Max in the barracks?" Alec asked.

Mole nodded. They were approaching the main buildings and a small crowd was gathering. Dix must have seen what was happening on the monitor.

"Take care of my friend," Alec said, reaching down to rub his aching foot. The boots they'd stolen at a rest area several hundred miles back were a size too small for him and he had blisters that were killing him.

"Alec," Mole said, reaching out and putting a hand firmly on his friend's shoulder. "She thinks you're dead. We all thought so. It was ... brutal ... what that bastard Stendahl put us through. There were remains ..."

Alec held up his hand, not wanting to hear more. But he did ask, "Lydecker?"

"We got the money, Alec, and he delivered it, but that piece of shit told us we were too late."

The X5 looked knowingly over at the human, then nodded. "I'll be back in a bit," he said to no one in particular.

*****

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.Org

"It wasn't me," he said softly from the doorway of their quarters, speaking to Max's silent back as she lay face down on the bunk.

She stirred, raised her head ...

"It wasn't me, Max. The bastard lied."

She rolled over then, and stared at him with eyes as wide as he'd ever seen them.

"I'm not a ghost," he continued, holding out his hand, showing her it was solid. "Max, I got away and Stendahl just wanted to torture you ... hurt you ... us ..."

She was studying him now, silent in a way that frightened him, although at the same time Alec realized she was looking better than when they'd parted ... fewer lines on her face ... her hair at least no greyer ... Max touched her belly, and the expression on her face told him the baby had just kicked. Everything was all right ...

"You came back to me," she finally said. "I prayed ... and you came back to me."

"With a little help," Alec said. "Hell, with a lot of help."

"But Stendahl sent us--"

Alec held up his hand. "I know what he sent. Mole told me. It wasn't me, but some poor X5 bastard wasn't so lucky."

"We'll bury him anyway," Max said quietly, her eyes still not quite focusing.

"We'll do that," Alec agreed. "But first, there's someone I need you to meet."

"No," she said, standing up and walking toward him. "First, we need to do this."

And then she kissed him.

The End