ARCHIVE: No.

Once upon a time an X5 designated 493 was created by Manticore scientists. His genetics were manipulated and combined with feline DNA in vitro for optimum strength, speed, intelligence, and courage. Artistic talents were added to make the final product more refined, as was physical beauty. Their creation would be the ultimate soldier -- a killing machine with the face and body of a young god, all kept track of by a bar code on the back of his neck.

The scientists knew they had a good combination, a viable fragment of living tissue that, if it survived, would be one of their crowning achievements. In fact, so pleased were the scientists with this particular combination of DNA, they decided to take no chances with the outcome. A second embryo was created using the identical genetics and given the designation X5-494.

Both embryos were implanted in surrogate mothers they would never know. Both attempts resulted in successful pregnancies and live births. Both babies were raised in the Manticore nurseries. Yet neither ever knew the other existed -- until something went wrong.

When he was 10 years old X5-493 escaped into the civilian world along with several others in his unit. Although Manticore spent many years seeking those who fled, most, including 493, were never recaptured and went on to live independent lives on the outside. However, the Manticore children left behind were never allowed to forget the transgressions of their brothers and sisters.

X5-494 was watched closely for the remainder of his childhood -- allowed to participate in his unit's activities, but always observed, periodically pulled aside for extra psychological evaluation, never quite trusted even by his own unit siblings. After all, his twin was a rogue. The tendency might be genetic.

But 494 had been made well. He was a survivor. Almost as soon as he could talk, he learned to say what his handlers wanted him to say, and to at least appear to do what they wanted him to do. He was smarter than many of the others in his unit and lived a good life by Manticore standards, making friends easily, well fed, warm and dry, and most importantly of all, secure in the knowledge he had a purpose in life -- to grow up and become one of the best soldiers on the planet.

His unit became a shining example of what the X-5's could accomplish. By the time he was physically mature at 18 years old, 494 had already participated in missions all over the globe. He excelled in languages, and, although not as single-minded or brutal as they'd like, his skills were acceptable to his handlers, making up in intelligence what he lacked in viciousness. After all, it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the hunt and the kill. All of the X-5's relished the blood, their pack instinct, feline DNA, and Manticore brainwashing allowing for nothing less.

494 was relatively content, especially since Manticore granted their best soldiers extra pleasures such as R&R following missions. He learned to drink alcohol, discovering that even though his fast metabolism made getting drunk a near impossibility, three or four whiskeys produced an extremely pleasant buzz. And, after losing his virginity with a general's daughter while in Sweden, he realized his good looks, charm, and charisma meant he'd never lack for female companionship

There were other perks as well -- better food, more comfortable quarters, greater responsibility, not to mention the little deals he'd been making on the side since childhood, trafficking in steroid-laced vitamins, trading them to the guards for candy, cigars, and other items he could sell to his unit mates for cash. As long as he obeyed orders, life at Manticore wasn't really all that bad for 494 -- or so he thought.

In fact, X5-494 was so good at what he did he attracted the attention of his superiors. They evaluated his file, his performance, his psychological profile, and decided he'd be an excellent candidate for solo missions -- deep undercover operations and assassinations. The ultimate honor for a soldier.

Thus 494's training was fine tuned, his language skills honed, and he received a promotion. His initial mission was a complete success, as were the next three. Four times out, four targets dead. And then came his first long term assignment -- monitoring a Manticore subcontractor named Berrisford who's loyalty to the program was in question. For his cover 494 learned to play the piano at concert level -- a feat accomplished in one day -- something that astonished even his handlers. But then the geneticists had given him a 187 I.Q. and savant artistic abilities.

Murder was 494's way into Berrisford's life, garroting a young piano teacher by the name of Simon Lehane. 494 didn't know who the young man really was, didn't let himself care, merely followed orders to eliminate the boy and take his identity. Cover in place, he was invited into Berrisford's home where he met his "student," the man's daughter Rachel. And so began the end of 494's shining Manticore career.

His handlers should have spotted the flaw in his psychological profile. There was a little line at the bottom of his aggression report, a red flag. "Reluctant to kill unless provoked."

There should also have been another line in that profile, a line that was indeed added after 494's catastrophic failure. "Emotional instability, i.e. capable of falling in love." One of the most damning flaws an X-5 could exhibit, and grounds for physical termination.

Somewhere, somehow, something had gone terribly wrong with the perfect soldier DNA sequences inside X5-494's brain.

He failed in his mission ... failed to assassinate Berrisford because he fell in love with the daughter. Failed Manticore.

Life as 494 had always known it was over.

494 was dragged into the deepest, darkest depths of Manticore, tortured until his mind retreated into near madness, then subjected to days of horrendous and painful re-indoctrination procedures. Over and over again it was laser drilled into his mind -- images of love obliterated by visions of pain until the two were inextricably linked. Love meant only agony. Still, they couldn't make him forget everything, no matter how hard they tried. So instead, they attempted to make him not care about anything or anyone.

He was a difficult subject, stubborn, subconsciously unrepentant no matter what words he screamed. In spite of everything, his mind resisted re-indoctrination. His handlers almost had 494 relegated to the parts bank, his upper level brain functions erased, his physical body preserved in cryonic suspension so his organs could be used to repair more worthy X5's.

But the Berrisford incident had been 494's first and only failure, and because of that they were patient. 494 was, after all, a very valuable military asset -- far more so as a living, breathing, functioning unit as opposed to meat floating in a vat.

At long last the day arrived when 494 emerged from the darkness of Manticore's basements, to stand squinting in the sunlight, ready to rejoin his unit -- a team that no longer wanted him as a member.

494 didn't think he was capable of feeling emotional pain any more, but when his family rejected him he found out he was wrong. His comrades, his brothers and sisters, didn't trust him. He was a pariah. No one would work with him. He was excluded from every mission, confined to base, not allowed to venture into the outside world. Useless.

Not useless, his handlers said. They would find a place for 494, a job he could do that would make his existence worthwhile, someplace where he could prove himself all over again. Talent and intelligence such as his shouldn't be wasted.

And so, in between training sessions, 494 was put in charge of monitoring X6's, babysitting or "kiddie duty" as it was called. Mentoring the younger versions of himself and his X5 brothers and sisters. 494 thought he would hate his assignment. Instead, he began to like it. The kids looked up to him, especially after his rank was restored. They didn't know about his ignominious failure, but respected his experience and the fact they couldn't put anything over on him. His quick wit, sense of humor, and fair nature were an invaluable asset. They came to him with their problems and looked to him when uncertain. He was the one they trusted. And of course, he still had his little scams, the deals he knew how to manipulate so he always had cash in his pocket.

494 began to live again.

But one night they came for him in his cell. No one would tell him anything. He was simply dragged away. He thought they were going to kill him. Perhaps he'd been too easy on that kid who screwed up in field med the day before, or they'd found out he he'd failed to report X6-211 broke a training rifle while engaging in horseplay with another member of his unit. Maybe they thought he was a bad influence.

"What did I do?" he pleaded as the medics surrounded him with their needles. "What did I do?" he screamed.

When he woke up he was in a different kind of cell -- a padded one. And they finally told him what was happening. His clone, 493, the one who'd escaped so many years ago, had gone insane. They were afraid it was genetic. He was in psi-ops, and he was going to stay there for a long, long time.

However, 494 was still a survivor. He endured their questions, their tests, their endless psychological analysis. He talked for hours with shrinks and scientists, telling them whatever they wanted to hear. They thought they were turning his mind inside out, seeking tiny brain chemistry flaws pointing to a schizophrenic nodule on his DNA strand. But they never found what they were looking for. And, when six months later 494 emerged once more into the light, he discovered the time hadn't been totally wasted after all. He'd always been a good liar, but now he'd honed that skill to an art. And his ability to read people, to know what they really wanted or needed or felt, was uncanny. They'd taught him well in psi-ops, just not the curriculum they'd intended.

He went back to the kids, and to his dealings.But then the gene bank was destroyed, a new handler named Renfro took over the compound, and things changed again. He was assigned a breeding partner -- 452.

"Alec," Joshua said. "When did you first fall in love with Max?"

Alec, about to bite into a slice of cold pizza, paused and looked oddly at his friend. It was near midnight and storming outside. The electric had gone a couple of hours earlier. None of them were sleepy and there wasn't much to do except sit around and talk. The question, however, had caught him by surprise.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that too," Max said, stretching on the couch beside him before resting her head once more on his shoulder. "When did you first realize I was it?"

"When did you realize you loved me?" Alec shot back at Max. "Let me take a wild guess. When you first laid eyes on me, right? I mean, I have that effect on women. One look and they have to have me. Ow!"

She'd poked him in the shoulder, hard. "When I first laid eyes on you I thought you were Ben, you idiot," she said. "And I was also in love with someone else at the time if you'll remember."

"How could I forget," Alec grumbled, still rubbing his shoulder.

Max was backing off. "Of course, I never made that mistake again, thinking you were your twin. Right away I could tell how different you were."

"Because I was so charming and intelligent?" Alec tried.

"No. Because you were so egotistical and full of yourself."

"So, it wasn't love at first sight?" Joshua said, sounding disappointed.

"Not at all," Alec said firmly. "I thought she was a first class bitch."

"Then why did you help her?" Joshua asked.

"I was his assignment," Max said. "He was ordered to, ugh, copulate with me. Then later he was ordered to follow me and kill Logan if the virus didn't."

"Then why Alec not kill Logan?"

"Yeah, why didn't you kill him?" Max said. "I always did kinda wonder about that. You had the chance, but you let him go."

"Because he was dyin' from the virus anyway, remember?" Alec said, not feeling the need even now to tell her just how close he came to putting a bullet in Logan's head. If Asha hadn't come in, giving him an excuse to not pull the trigger ... He shuddered now at the thought of what he'd almost done. Max never would have forgiven him and he wouldn't be with her now.

Max was looking at him strangely. "And, my heart wasn't exactly in it," he admitted. "I didn't think it was very fair, what Renfro had done to you and Logan. In fact, it was downright mean. She could have just had me follow you and I could have shot Logan in the head, but those weren't my orders. I was to help you get to him and then, once he had the virus, bring you back to the base. Her plan was sadistic. I was only to pull the trigger if you hadn't infected him. Then, of course, Manticore went inferno I didn't have to follow orders any more." He grinned at the memory.

"And why did you care?" Joshua asked.

Alec had to think about that for a minute. Finally, his voice slow, he said, "In all honesty, I didn't give a damn whether Logan lived or died. I just didn't feel like killin' someone that night."

"Again, we ask why?" Max said softly. "You were a good little Manticore soldier. You had your orders. And you always followed orders so well, didn't you? Why didn't you just kill Logan after I'd left and you got free? That's what most X5's would have done, and enjoyed themselves too. No one at Manticore would have blamed you."

"No," Alec said quietly. "No, actually I didn't always follow orders. And I purely hated Renfro. But I don't think Renfro knew that. She probably hadn't read my whole file when she assigned me to you. She only looked at the DNA profile and my recent record."

"But by then she didn't care about that," Max argued. "She really just wanted you to shadow me back to Logan, make sure the virus got transmitted."

"True," Alec said. "And I really just wanted to get the assignment over with and go home. The last thing I meant to do was get tangled up in your life."

"So, when did Alec first love Max?" Joshua repeated yet again.

Max waited. Joshua waited. Alec squirmed.

"I know when it was," Max finally said.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Alec challenged. "Bet you don't."

"Bet I do."

"When?"

"When you had me helpless on the ground and were about to plunge a knife into my heart. When you looked into my eyes and couldn't do it. When you decided you'd give up your own life rather than take mine. And to answer what you really want to know, it was that night in my apartment, when we talked about Ben, that I realized you were no longer the biggest jerk in the world but had turned into someone I had to be careful not to fall in love with."

There was a loud clap of thunder and the baby started crying in the bedroom. Max kissed Alec firmly on the lips, hopped off the couch, and went to tend to their son, leaving her mate and Joshua to ponder her words.

"She wasn't careful enough," Joshua finally said. "She did fall in love with you. Left Logan at altar."

"And that, my friend," Alec said with a smug smile. "Is another night's story."