The Game 37
Edited by Karen Leigh
It was broad daylight when Methos awoke. Anson was tangled up beside him, the sheet as usual at war with him and apparently attempting a garroting move. He lay on his belly, his face turned away towards his look-alike, who also appeared to be deeply asleep. Methos ascertained that the newcomer was still breathing, and then with a grin, turned to survey his lover.
Gently disentangling the sheet from around his beloved's neck, he studied the sweeping curves of back and buttock, the swell of hip and the flow of the neck into the shoulders. They took his breath away. Looking beyond, to where their guest slumbered on, Methos could see only the feathery hair of the other, as he slept, his back to them. Stooping, Methos protruded a pink tongue and licked a line down from the delicate bloom at the nape of Anson's neck, along the curve of his spine, down past the beginning swell of his buttocks. Anson moaned faintly, muttered something only half heard, and spread his thighs apart.
This was a bonus. Methos reached between to find and weigh Anson's balls, teasing down with his tongue to discover the start of his perineum, and elicited a vague choking sound from the head that lay on the pillow. Thus heartened, he wormed his fingers between Anson and the bed, feeling for the penis that he knew would be full and heavy beneath him. There was a definite reaction at that point. Methos smiled again and slid neatly up to cover Anson, lips searching out his delicate ear.
"Morning, love. You remember what I said about you being on the bottom?" He nipped at Anson's neck, and then his chin, finally covering his mouth with his own eager lips, urgent now following his interrupted efforts the night before.
Philip found himself floating just below the surface of consciousness. As profound a sleep as he had ever experienced had given way to vivid dreams of a distant past. Naked, bound, he'd been thrown into a hide-canopied cart -- a prisoner, loot in some barbaric conflict... Through a gap he'd seen a magnificent horse, its rider a whipcord-bodied warrior in tunic, breeches and light armour of studded leather. Dark hair blew about an angular face painted with talismanic black designs, and then the warrior had glanced his way...
Groping for the Astroglide, Methos began to stroke along Anson's crack as Anson made harrumphing sounds that might have been protest, but which were steadily beginning to become arousal.
"Let me..." Methos was in no mood for trifling. He needed to be inside the splendid body of his lover, and he began to push himself in as soon as he'd slicked the way, groaning as he was steadily enclosed in the tight, hot sheath that was Anson's flesh. Gasping, he pushed in as far as he could, and then stopped, trying to calm himself as the pulses and tingles of incipient orgasm threatened to overwhelm him almost immediately.
Gradually, the jouncing of the cart as it carried him to his fate resolved itself into the undulating bounce of a mattress. Philip opened his eyes, and then quickly closed them against the daylight. The last thing he remembered was being walked down a hallway, being swept away by...why did his mind insist on remembering lightning?
Anson chuckled, and contracted his muscles, making Methos curse.
"Do that again and I won't be able to hold off. Gods, you feel wonderful." Methos kissed the smooth shoulder that lay beneath his lips. "I want to stay like this forever."
Groggy, still shaken by the intensity of his dreams, Philip lay motionless and tried to ascertain his situation. He was indeed naked, curled tightly in a sheet, and two men were fucking with abandon mere inches behind his back. Had it been necessary to remember, the dull throb between his legs would have been more than enough evidence that he'd slept unmolested. No mere morning erection, he was aching with arousal, made worse by the second as he became more fully aware of the sound and scent and rhythmic movements of the men beside him. The energy...it wasn't as incapacitating as before, but there was no mistaking it, or the man's voice as he laughed and murmured to his partner...
Even as engrossed as his neighbors were, Philip knew there was no way he could bring himself off without drawing their attention. Agonizingly hard now, he desperately needed to see them, needed relief. Moaning, he rolled over onto his other side...and found himself virtually face to face with another of the clones.
Skin sheened with sweat, hair in damp disarray, lips parted and unfocused eyes half closed in pleasure, his look-a-like was mesmerizing. Philip remained all too aware of the dark man draped over the clone's back, looking on even through his haze of lust as he continued thrusting, but the wave of sensation brought as much hunger as trepidation.
With a dreamily predatory smile, the clone reached across the small distance between them, slowly stroking the length of Philip's side, from bare shoulder to sheet-wrapped thigh, then cupped the hardness that curved up to his belly, freely leaking a wet spot into the soft, dense-woven cotton. Philip bucked against the pressure, his groan deepening into a growl of frustration as the clone's hand withdrew. He was so close...
Fingers raking lightly through his hair now, the flick of a fingertip at the small gold hoop in his ear before the hand splayed at the base of Philip's skull and pulling him into a deep, languorous kiss. Giving himself to it, Philip felt someone drawing the sheet from his body, and no longer cared.
Opening his eyes to meet Philip's, Anson couldn't resist the need to touch - such need was evident in his expression. He only hoped that Methos wouldn't object, wouldn't feel slighted.
God, let this be okay
A low voice in his ear reassured him, "Yesssss."
Anson removed the sheet from Philip's body and pulled him close.
"Kiss him," Methos instructed.
So he did. And, surprisingly, Philip opened to him immediately, inviting the invasion. As the kiss grew ever hotter, Anson moaned. It was too wonderful - Methos inside of him, Philip in front ...
Ever so slowly, he reached down and closed one hand around Philip's erection. When that gained him a husky groan, he smiled and started to run his fingers lightly along the satin steel of the man's cock.
Methos looked on. His jealous baby was driving him crazy with lust. He watched the two of them kissing, and felt his orgasm rise in response.
"Gods, you two are beautiful together." Bending to lick at Anson's neck, he stopped his movements, hoping to stave off the threatened climax for a few more minutes. He was well aware that Anson hadn't come yet, and he wanted to make sure that his touchy young lover was happy.
The lick and flare of energy pouring from the unknown man beside Anson put paid to that. As Anson stroked the newcomer's cock, Methos felt a surge that rocked him. Helplessly, he felt his balls tighten in response to whatever it was that the clone was doing. With a moan he drove into Anson, unable to prevent the sizzling release of his orgasm as he emptied himself.
"Oh, gods, I'm sorry, Anson. I'll get..." He stopped speaking, entranced as the two clones continued to kiss and touch. Pulling back just a little, Methos propped himself on his elbow and began to watch, entranced, as his two companions continued to play.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Alex," Hobbes whispered softly, "You are the first man to ever do that to me... I'm glad it was you," he pulled Alex's head to him and kissed him softly before breaking the kiss and holding Alex to him, gently caressing his back with his fingers. "What do you think will happen to me next? Is there anything here I can do to help you?"
"Tom, you're a free man. I won't hold you. It would be good to think that you're going to help us out though. We have to find this Pinocchio of yours. He's a worry to me, and that Santiago is even more so. What can we do about him? Maybe you've got some ideas. You know him and what he can do."
Alex paused to kiss the other man again, running his hands over sweat-slick skin with appreciation. He wondered if he could get him to fuck Fox for him, but tabled that until later.
"We need to get out of this place and take it to the ones that are causing the problems, or we're never going to be safe again. Do you want to help, or do you like it here?"
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Mmm, Malibu was capable of superior learning when motivated and he was motivated. With a gasp, Malibu held Mulder's ass apart and slid his erection inside. Although this was different than being penetrated, it was also enjoyable. Malibu resolved to do both with as many men as he could find to try to decide which he liked more. Bernie's more sophisticated intelligence penetrated his mind, synching both of them in a rhythm designed to make Mulder go out of his mind with pleasure. Maddening Mulder seemed like a lovely sport...
By now, Mulder was so surrounded by sensation, so aroused that he couldn't tell who was doing what to whom, any more. Yet to Fox's disgust, he wouldn't admit to himself that the androids were as near human as it was possible to get without being human. He was telling himself it didn't matter he was getting off on this, because they were no more than sophisticated sex toys.
That's downright insulting, sneered Fox. If you say that out loud, and hurt their feelings, I'm never going to forgive you.
They are machines, stuttered Mulder's silent voice, as a hot surge of uncontrollable release sent his body into a spasm of breathless delight. They are nothing but fucking machines, not men. The only man I want is Alex. This is just a fancy form of masturbation.
Yeah, thought Fox, keep telling yourself that, Spooky. Denial of the obvious is your second best party trick... right after belief in the ludicrous.
Mulder felt his cum pump into the Mermac with a feeling of combined ecstasy and embarrassment. He'd been so carried away with what he thought was a dream, and then just let it continue when he knew it was real... and now he was going to have to talk to these things, after what he'd just done. He couldn't face it.
Damn it Spooky. You can't just run out on them! Give me the body back and I'll deal with it.
Not in a thousand years, you whore. You'll be in there for hours, probably until you start growing scales yourself. Jesus Christ! Someone might walk in on us!
Pushing his two partners away, he slithered from between them and with a sickly grin snatched up a towel and Fox's bundle of clothing, and hopping and limping on his painful ankle, staggered out of the pool room.
At least say thank you, or goodbye, snarled Fox. I cannot believe you are so insensitive.
Mulder wouldn't answer. He knew he was making excuses for his behaviour, hiding behind rationalizations, but he wasn't going to argue it with Fox, when he knew he was in the wrong. Gonna find Alex, he muttered. You've been wasting time. Need to know what's going on. Have you even thought, Fox, what all these clones could imply? Damn, maybe they're being bred to replace key people. Maybe Alex and I are clones of some original that is a member of some sinister conspiracy. Allowed to make niches for our selves, get in positions of trust, and then, WHAM! we get replaced by replicas. This is all too odd.
He wrapped the towel round himself, and limped down the corridor, peering in room after room in search of Alex. As a good proportion of the people here were Alex's doubles, it wasn't easy. Luckily most were asleep, and he could simply take a look at the discarded clothing. Suddenly he heard Alex's voice. Though they all had Alex's husky tones, he'd know his lover from a thousand others.
Lambs, muttered Fox, still peeved with Mulder's attitude to the Macs. Or is it seals? Picking out their mother's voice amongst hundreds of others.
Mulder smiled. The warm glow in his belly told him that Fox was right. He knew to whom he belonged. He pushed open the door and walked straight in.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Hobbes turned his head to Alex loving the feel of his hands over his body. "I want to help... any way I can." he sighed softly as he thought of Pinocchio, "As for Pinocchio... We have to find him and get that chip out of him."
"I guess we're gonna need to talk to One again. Hopefully this time it will be worth doing. Alex ran his hands down Tom's smooth flank, and placed a kiss on the top of his head.
Hobbes smiled slightly, "Pinocchio told me once I seem to have a radar with his name on it. I could always seem to find him when I needed to. As for Santiago," he said the name with hate, "He will be harder to find. He holes up in many locations. All I can recall was the Government house in Harsh Realm, unless you know of a way to dig into my subconscious and find out where I came from or went to when they put that chip inside me. Santiago, I wouldn't doubt has many hiding places, that was why it was so hard for the Government to find him when he took control of the Game."
"Oh, have no fear, we'll find him. I need you to tell me everything that you know about him, though. Don't think that there's anything too small to leave out."
Hobbes hands were still aimlessly wandering Alex's body as he spoke, "I will help you, and I want to help you." His blue eyes locked on the greens of Alex.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
About the only thing that Skip Brule admired about the FBI agent was how fast he could walk...it had taken some doing to catch up with him.
It would have served him right to find out his lover was as faithless as he was, but Skip Brule was in a towering rage. Now when a man stands six feet and seven inches tall in his stocking feet, a towering rage was awesome to behold. Grabbing the man by his neck, just as he was about to enter the room where the "Original," was nesting and conspiring with one of the enemy soldiers, Skip Brule hauled him back out into the hallway so fast that you had to hope he didn't know any smart lawyers. Whiplash suits were a petty annoyance, even if blackmail was better than three WASP blue bloods on your lawyer's letterhead to deal with them.
Grabbing a handful of hair and using the towel to dangle the agent midair, Skip directed Mac Smith and the two sturdy Mac 27 combat specials he had meet them, "Now, darling, just make sure that Mr. Krycek stays snug and safe out of this little old discussion..."
Mulder gave a strangled shriek as his gigantic host whisked him from his feet.
Dangling Mulder like a toy in his catcher's mitt-like hand, Skip spun him around a few times for good measure. "Now, Mr. Mulder, you arrive as a somewhat uninvited guest and I didn't complain because I am a damn gracious host. I'll admit that Malibu Alex is a little forward, but he didn't mean any harm. A fellow who objected could have just told the kid no, a fellow with more common sense would have done just what you did up to the point where you told my friends that they were little more than walking talking blow up dolls, with attached vibrators."
Mulder's stomach, full of champagne, pool water and very little else did a flip-flop and tied itself in a reef knot. Gritting his teeth, he shut his eyes and prayed that the madman would put him down soon, or he'd be painting the walls with vomit, like a lawn sprinkler.
Skip dragged the agent over to Mac Smith and said, "This is my lover, Mac Smith, the most purely affectionate, kind, and sexy, and good cooking creature a man had ever been privileged to meet. Now the fact that he's a Mac 27 and not the human sort of man doesn't bother me one bit. You all take a good look at me, Mr. Mulder. I'd lay a bet some of those smug blue-blooded ancestors of yours hauled some of mine out of Africa and put us right up on the auction block. They probably went to church every Sunday while their ship captains and traders were throwing dead kids over the sides of those hellholes they called slave ships. Only the strong and lucky survived that trip...so they could be whipped and worked to death. Your same mother-fucking ancestors screwed mine, didn't do no asking either cause somehow they were human enough to screw and even made cute little half colored babies that grew into even cuter big ones like me, but weren't human enough to pay a wage to, or to marry, or to even let alone to have a family."
With an effort of will that bordered on Herculean, Mulder ignored his nausea, and tried to concentrate on what was being said to him. Had he and Fox talked out loud? Fuck, he must have been a damn sight more drunk than he'd realized.
"So you see, I take amiss to your attitude. See, because I'm a good-natured bloke, you all assume I'm not quite as bright as you are. That suits me just fine, but if you think I let one thing go on in my temple without me knowing about it, you're more a fool than you think me. I saw what you did with that poor little addle-pated fellow. Now, Bernie has the wit to make decisions on his own. He knows he's just as good as human, better than some if you ask me...but that Malibu Alex is an innocent. His butt-hole of an owner didn't want any programming so he could see how a child-like Mac would react to whatever the hell he intended...not that it isn't obvious what a pretty thing like that was bought for.
There are no slaves here, Mr. High and mighty Fox Mulder and you have no right to hide behind that pin headed attitude you inherited from your slave owning pricks of ancestors that what's different from you has no rights."
Mulder listened to the rant in growing disbelief. Surely the man wasn't comparing the problems of oppressed people the world over to the pseudo emotions of a set of admittedly lifelike, but ultimately manufactured entities? If only he didn't feel so sick...
Mac Smith diffidently said, "Skip, you know, Mulder is turning blue the way you're holding him and I think people listen better when they can breathe..."
Having been dumped unceremoniously on the floor, Mulder gulped back his nausea and waited for the walls to stop rocking. He began to speak in his deliberate monotone.
"I apologize to you, Mr. Brule, if you have been upset by remarks, which if I had not had too much to drink, I suspect I may not have made. However, I refuse to apologize for the remarks themselves, I stand by my belief, until it is proved otherwise to me, that the Macs are simply very sophisticated machines."
"They were manufactured in a factory, programmed, and I suspect, can be wholly or partially reprogrammed. They are capable of learning, but many artificial intelligences are capable of that. They appear to be self-aware, and if it can be shown to be truly so, I will change my opinion of them. But for now, I say that they are just constructs. Believable, lifelike, but ultimately just appliances, like an airplane or a computer. Therefore I find your argument specious, and to compare them to human slaves insulting to human suffering. You are anthropomorphizing them, as people do with their pets, or indeed their cars. In my opinion, it was a cruel vanity to design them to be so human-like, and apparently to have feelings. But they cannot be slaves, any more than your...TV is a slave."
"I have heard that there is a scrap of human material inside them, and maybe you would argue that this confers rights upon them. But it is not a brain, or an egg capable of growing into a human. As far as I know, it is merely enough genetic material to provide a blueprint for the type of Mac... the genome as a building design. So if, instead of arguing that they are 'citizens' in their own right, you plan to say that this makes them as good as human, I refute that too."
Warming to his theme, and forgetting his queasiness, Mulder climbed back to his feet, and began to pace up and down as he spoke.
"Of course, this begs the question of how much human genetic material a creature has to have to give it the right to be a human, and also, whether the source of that material changes its rights. There is a whole raft of human clones here that look like Alex Krycek; I've seen at least two that look like me. For all I know, neither he nor I is the original, we could have been grown from a cell taken from some unknown other. Therefore, if I am not the original, am I human in my own right? Or being a growth from the cell of another, do I belong wholly to that original person, just as a nail-clipping, or a cancerous growth might?"
He turned to Skip, and pursed his lips. "I look human, I feel human, and I am self-aware. But, if I am no more than a clone, if I have no individual genetic history, no parents to confer their ancestry, and their place in society on me, then it could be argued that I too have no rights as a human being."
One of Skip Brule's favorite sayings was that someone was so full of shit that they'd sneeze brown. Mac Smith thought he understood the analogy. He couldn't tell if Mulder was thinking or just going stewing in his own arrogance.
Mac Smith didn't need Skip or Mulder to tell him that he was a person and not a TV or a pet. Just because humans had created him didn't mean that he wasn't an individual. After all one can argue that humans were just a flesh machine too.
Twining his arms around Skip, Mac Smith said, "Come on, lover, you've said your piece. Personally, I don't think that Mulder matters all that much anyway. If he can't see that I'm a person then fuck him..."
"Rather fuck you, darling," Skip said, "Mulder's none to nice to his sex partners."
Never was a truer word spoken, thought Fox, listening dolefully to Mulder's ravings. He could see his alter ego's point of view about the Macs... just because something appears to be so, doesn't mean it necessarily is so, but he thought Mulder could be lot more diplomatic about his opinions. He could also have given the Macs the benefit of the doubt, and treated them with civility while amongst people who believed that they were 'alive'.
But Mulder always jumped in at the deep end, and put people's backs up. Fox was glad they normally kept their lives in separate compartments. Neither personality approved of the other's behaviour.
"I think we should go talk to Malibu. He's like a child; a Mac 27 child and his feelings are easily hurt. Bernie's ideas about making it all better might not be what he needs..."
"Right as always," Skip said, "Yeah, let's go talk to someone who gives a damn."
Fox watched them go with regret, wishing he'd had charge of their body during the session in the pool. Mulder, however, hardly noticed their departure, caught up in a welter of new ideas and theories about the meaning of awareness and existence, and wondering what Scully's opinion would be about the Macs, given her adherence to the Christian faith.
Pleased at how successfully he had calmed his lover down, Mac Smith spared one scornful look at Mulder. Mac Smith was exactly human enough to feel a little bitter pleasure at what Mulder would find behind that door. Mac Smith had no trouble keeping HIS LOVER faithful.
This man was a sweet armful. Alex smiled down at him - a genuine smile - and them lowered his head to cover the lips below him with his own.
"Thank you, Tom. You'll never know how much I appreciate that. I'll do what I can for you, too." An idea suddenly occurred. "We need to go see David too. He'll know where Santiago is. It will cost us, though," he reflected, bitterly.
He slapped Tom's rump and dragged himself up to a sitting position. Damn, he did NOT want to get up. He wanted to stay here and play.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Absently, Mulder picked up the clothing he'd dropped, and quietly pushed open the door he'd been about to step through earlier. Alex was talking to someone, but Mulder was so engrossed in his thoughts he just shut the door and dropped the pile of clothes on a chair before turning to look to see what was happening...
...And there were Alex and Hobbes, and they were naked, and there was absolutely no mistaking what had been going on.
Shit, thought Fox, as he felt a blood-red rage surge through Mulder's consciousness. Just go back out, Spooky, and think about this before you act! he urged. His advice was not heard.
Mulder ran over to the bed, seized Alex by his arm and dragged him to his feet. Swinging him round, he slammed him against a wall, and, with one hand still gripping his wrist, stretched his other round Alex's neck, under his chin, and forced his head back cruelly.
"You are fucking scum," snarled Mulder. "Maybe you'd like to remind me why the hell I should believe a word you say, Alex, my sweet. A couple of hours ago you told me this little fucker was trying to kill you, and now he's in bed with you."
He dropped his hands from Alex, and stood back, shaking with anger, and with hurt. "You get rid of Fox, foist him on that Barbie-doll... just to get me out of the way so you can carry on with your fucking conspiracies unhindered. Just what the hell are you pulling this time, Krycek? What are you trying to hide from me?" He glanced round at Hobbes, and sneered, "Or did you just want to screw the pretty little soldier boy? What lies have you been telling him, eh?"
"Is that what you think? Look at him, Mulder - all that pretty skin. He's a treat."
Mulder glared at Alex and narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure. Pretty skin, pretty mouth and pretty well fucked already, by the look of him." He pulled off his towel... the only garment he was wearing, and stepped over to the bed, ripping the covers off it and exposing Hobbes' body. "Why don't we see if the little whore will put out for me, too?" he added viciously.
Alex drew a deep breath, stepped forward and punched Mulder in the solar plexus. As Mulder reeled, gasping, Alex dragged him up and threw him next to Tom on the bed.
"Listen to me, Mulder. What I do is my business. You have a problem with it, deal with it."
"A good part of what you do is my business, too," answered Mulder, breathlessly. "But you keep me in the dark, run rings around me, and expect me to accept your decisions without question or explanation." He looked up at him and frowned. "I love you, Alex. I don't give a damn what you do, or who you sleep with... just as long as you don't lie to me, and exclude me."
"Tom here is going to help us get rid of the bastards that have controlled you and I for all of our lives - or at least he was. I would have thought that would make you happy, but if you'd rather play games with bimbos, then feel free. I have work to do. Now, make your choice. Do you want to carry on being an asshole, in which case we'll leave you and go do it alone, or do you want to apologize to Tom and help us get rid of this compulsion thing? I want to remind you that none of us came here knowing why, and there are far too many of us here for that to be a coincidence."
Mulder closed his eyes, and shook his head in exasperation. "Okay, Okay... I still don't know what you're talking about. There was some sort of conference, and Fox managed to prevent me from going to it, so if you're going to tell me that's when everyone bared their souls, I am going to be seriously pissed off."
"And I don't trust all these fucking robots...Mac 27's. They seem to have everyone on a leash... even Fox. They seem to be able to be all things to all people; everyone's dream lover. It's eerie. Sinister. People just trust them. They are supposed to have made a bid for independence but is that true? Or is someone behind it all, controlling them?" He grimaced. "I'm sure they're spying on people, too. What one of them knows, they all seem to know. I don't like it at all."
But Alex was right about Hobbes. Krycek was a bastard, and had dragged Tom into their screwed-up relationship willy-nilly; Tom didn't deserve any blame. He turned to Tom, kissed him lightly on the lips, and gave a rueful laugh. "I'm sorry Tom. After the way Fox and I have treated you, I'm sure that it will take more than an apology to get you to trust me, but if Alex is happy to work with you, then I have to be too."
He looked up at Alex in indecision. "I need some facts... I need to know, so I can make up my mind."
Alex took hold of Mulder's hair and bent to kiss him savagely. "Choose, dammit. We don't have all day."
Mulder stood, and taking Alex in his arms, kissed him back, long and deep. "When did I last have a choice?" he whispered. He turned and smiled at Hobbes over his shoulder. "Can't keep Fox Mulder away from a mystery. I only hope some day someone will tell me just what the mystery is! The bimbos can wait."
Tom had to hold back everything he had to keep from punching the guy. How dare he talk that way? Who the fuck did he think he was? He was nobody to be talking this way to him or anyone for that matter. He reached over and pulled his clothes on. He felt so used at the moment. He looked at Alex, his innocent blue eyes looking into greens, he didn't know where to go from here. He was slowly buttoning his shirt as he looked away from the man. He then looked up slowly at Mulder, "Don't you EVER talk that way to me again. I did not deserve it."
That's debatable, thought Mulder, amused, remembering how Hobbes had regarded Alex as his mortal enemy not more than a day back, and now was making doe-eyes at him, and fucking him.
"And yes... it's going to take a lot more for me to trust you." He turned his attention back to Alex, "Now what?"
...Or maybe it just said a lot for Alex's powers of persuasion.
Wanna take a bet on how long it'd take you to have him, Spooky? Judging by how fast he let Alex jump his bones, he's all mouth.
Nope. Mulder took a deep breath of warm, alley-cat scented Alex, and realized that his cock wasn't going to let him go on being mad at his lover, no matter what the circumstances. He watched Hobbes, who must surely smell the same, scrambling into his borrowed clothes. He's pretty, but I have my doubts about his personal hygiene. Remind me to dump those things if he ever lets me have them back.
Mulder blandly echoed Hobbes' words. "Now what? Well, seeing as you're dressed, why don't you go and rustle up some coffee, or something, while Alex explains to me just how you are going to help us? Oh... and I expect you'd like to know there's a bathroom just down the hall." He picked up his discarded towel and offered it to Hobbes expressionlessly. "Here, you can use this."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Something clicked as One and David brushed by each other. David had mentioned a forced reboot; for a Mac 27, that meant either having to endure the diagnostics lab at Innobotics or making a connection with another Mac in the field. There was something in her files about field reboots needing to be avoided at all costs because the Macs involved always developed an unexpected bond with each other that couldn't be broken by any conventional means. Sypher was sure that One and David weren't completely aware of their deeper connection, or the consequences of it.
David felt a jolt of energy emanating from a source that he couldn't identify. Cursing his optimism that his maintenance was done, he vowed to do another systems check the moment he was able.
For herself, it meant that she might have to share David's love--or even give him up altogether. The very thought of the latter hurt in a way that she never could have imagined, but what could she do? David and One needed each other, even if they didn't know it yet.
As always, she resolved to jump off that bridge when she got to it...and hope she survived.
Sypher was looking at him strangely. Concern, sadness and ... other things made a jumble of emotions that David couldn't deconstruct. Nor, he realized, did he have the time. Luke and Ryan awaited and One was already moving through the door.
Luke stepped in front of Ryan as One and David entered. The woman he had not yet met, but he worried about her on general principal, knowing that Ryan had always been with women up to the point when Luke's greatest hope had been granted. Luke glared at her, his green eyes conveying, "Mine."
Sypher sighed. Again with the glaring. Her neural net twinged in annoyance, but that was about it. So this was the Mac that had thrown David out of a window, not that he hadn't deserved it at the time. She gave the two of them a placating smile and deliberately moved to a far corner of the room. "Breakfast is being sent in," she informed them pleasantly, "I'm sure you must be hungry, having to get up at this ungodly hour."
As for David, Luke extended every sense that he was able to muster to try to discern any threat from him.
David chastised himself for watching the grace of Sypher's movements when Luke focused his attention on him. Trying to remain still and evince peaceful intent, David opened himself up to the scrutiny as much as he felt comfortable doing. Meeting Luke's eyes, he forced himself to relax.
Ryan stepped out from behind Luke but didn't move forward, tacitly accepting Luke's desire to be positioned between he and the others. He regretted the maneuver the moment David's eyes flicked to him. Luke instantly tensed, but before he could move Ryan put a hand on Luke's shoulder and squeezed it slightly in an effort to show support.
One, he still trusted, but not to the extent that he had done when they first met at the warehouse where Innobotics had held them to gather them in one place before destroying them. Then Luke had thought One was a messiah, now he saw that he was just a Mac 27, perhaps one that knew more than he, but still Luke knew that Ryan cared about him. Loved him back? Perhaps not yet, perhaps never, but it didn't matter. He really thought that if Ryan would let him, he would prove that he could climb tall mountains, plunge to the depths of the ocean...travel beyond...
Something warned Luke not to even think about it. He knew that the chemicals he had absorbed from Ryan were slightly different from humans were supposed to be. Ryan was different, but Luke felt that he was also a stranger here.
Sypher took in the scents in the room, automatically filtering out David's, One's and her own. That left the android Luke's--easily identifiable, as all Macs had the same base scent--and the human Ryan's. Her eyes widened and she stared at David, who gave her a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the two before them. But before she could question him privately about it, a Mac with a fully loaded serving cart arrived and she had to hastily push her curiosity down to avoid giving anything away...
No one made a move toward the food. The Mac 27 who had brought it paused for a moment, puzzled by the lack of interest in what he'd been tasked to deliver. When he left the room, the silence continued and the tension rose.
Finally, Ryan asked, "Why are you here? What do you want?"
David and One shared a glance. Something decidedly non-verbal, but easily understandable passed between them. Uneasy, David took a step back, wondering if he'd just imagined One emoting at him somehow to undo the damage he'd done.
Shaking his head, David faced Ryan and replied, "To ask something of you both."
"You ... want something from us?" Ryan muttered angrily. "Why don't you just take whatever it is like you did last time?"
David looked down at the floor and thought about what his own experiences told him about this situation, as Sypher had suggested. As far as he could tell, they weren't particularly helpful. So he had no choice other than to improvise. "Because what I took last time led to a discovery that cannot be dealt with in that manner. If you do not agree, and that is certainly your prerogative, what we have in mind will not work. And you will not be safe, Ryan."
Luke advanced on David, eyes blazing. David watched the less experienced android gather his composure and halt about a foot away, fists clenched and jaw tight.
Nodding to Luke, David murmured, "You'll have to look beyond this room and those in it for the dangers Ryan will face. Can you do that, Luke? Are you willing to face them with him?"
"I'm not stupid anymore!" Luke answered. "I know you're not my friend or Ryan's. Ryan's the only one I trust anymore."
Turning his eyes to One, Luke added, "I'm willing to help fight if that's what you want, One, but I won't help you use Ryan. I know about outside. I was a slave just like the others and I am grateful that you saved us, One."
Switching his attention to 666, Luke tried to read the blank face that he saw as different from his own, more satanic and cold. He could see the man glancing at Ryan and he hated it. He said, "I know they were going to kill us back at that place and I noticed that you weren't with us, David! Why? How did you know to stay hidden when even One was caught?"
One said, "I was taken on purpose, Luke, I had to find out exactly what was happening and I couldn't ask anyone else to take the risk. I also needed to talk to the others directly; remove inhibitor chips in some cases. That was one of many trips in Innobotics vans. As you see, they did not succeed in killing me. David has always done his duty, Luke. If he had not, how would you have the freedom to care so much for Ryan?"
Luke glumly analyzed the guilty feelings that welled up. It wasn't fair. What were they asking of him? He looked helplessly at Ryan, hoping his lover could tell him what was the right path?
Ryan nodded to Luke, stepped forward and placed a hand deliberately on the small of Luke's back, daring any of the others to comment. "Let's try this again," he muttered, tone harsh and eyes fixed on David. "What do you want?"
Suddenly, David thought he understood a bit of what Sypher had been trying to tell him. Instead of facing Ryan, David regarded Luke. "You were never stupid. You care about Ryan and I used that. What I did was wrong. I thought it justified, but that does not alter the conclusion. However, it is not wrong or weak to care about someone, Luke. It takes strength to open your self up to those emotions. What we're asking is that you use that strength to protect Ryan until we can determine what we can do to help you."
Recognition and understanding in Luke's eyes stunned David, prompting a glance toward One and Sypher and a hesitant, "Ryan is different from the other humans who look like Alex Krycek. But you ... you already know that, don't you?"
It surprised One to feel Luke suddenly reopen to him, but he respected the gesture of trust by not following the thread deeper than an acknowledgment that he was happy to be allowed to speak directly to Luke again.
Of course, humans were another realm. One had no ability to have "a meeting of the minds" with any of the clones. In fact, Sypher surprised him when she showed ability to tune in...although he hadn't noticed anything until after she had LOUDLY resumed her relationship with David...at which point, calculating square roots and translating the table of elements into Hebrew had not helped very much to block out the spill of feelings and sensations.
Still, One could still use other skills to know some shade of what Ryan was feeling ... to be different was frightening. One had studied the human and animal instinct to drive away the unknown...from animals and birds tormenting crippled members of their own kind to male lions killing off the cubs of the previous pride male to hurry the conception of their own seed...there were many animal examples. Humanity could occasionally rise above the beast, but examples of the opposite were in his memory as well.
Gentle, hands spread in the ancient human gesture that showed open and spread palms...no weapons, not even a fist, One said to Ryan, "No matter how different you feel, you can be no more alien here then we are. I already know that I feel that you are part of us...you cared how Luke felt and you made him very happy. He has grown greatly as a result of knowing you, Ryan. No one will ever enslave him willingly again. You cannot understand how I feel about that. Or can you? The reason I allowed myself to be captured so many times was to stop my brothers from going willingly to their own doom. What was it that Dylan Thomas said? "Do not go gently into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. I think you love life as much as I do, Ryan. Let us help you. We will trust you with our secrets and you can trust us with your secret."
Sypher watched silently, appreciating the chance to see One at work. It was easy to see how he'd managed to bring so many of his brethren together in one place; he had a strength and charisma that politicians would kill for, coupled with a genuine and caring nature. If she had to give David up to someone, she couldn't get any better than the android leader. But as much as she respected, admired and liked One, she loved David; and was resolved not to give him up until she had to. All she could do was hope that resolve didn't fail her when she needed it to...
Ryan glanced at Luke out of the corner of his eye and saw his own uncertainty mirrored there. Taking a deep breath, Ryan focused on what One had said and what he had witnessed ever since he'd come into contact with the Mac 27s and clones. Sensing that there was truth in One's words but also danger, Ryan challenged, "If you're on the level, you go first. Tell me what you know about me."
David felt One's demand for compliance instantaneously. What troubled him wasn't the speed but that the directive seemed to be coming from deep within him rather than from One. The sensation was oddly compelling and David found himself collecting and ordering data before even considering whether compliance was in anyone's best interest, including his own. Sypher's push was lighter, but no less strong.
Not looking at either One or Sypher, David began, "Your name does not appear on the list of clones I discovered."
David winced and raised a hand to his head at the outrage that he sensed from One. Turning to face his colleague, he muttered, "I was going to tell you, before ... I ... required emergency maintenance."
One's terse nod belied the apology and concern that flooded David's system. Confused once more, it was with relief that he resumed his disclosure to Ryan. "Your DNA is different. Too different to be accounted for by random mutations of a maturing clone of Alex Krycek. And your cellular chemistry has subtle alterations. The variations are so small that someone would have to be looking for it to detect anything amiss. I was, using the samples I'd taken."
With a sigh, David continued, "Based on those findings, I did more research to try and determine who you are and where you come from. I found some possibilities, but nothing conclusive. That's all I know."
Sypher nuzzled David gently, briefly and very privately. You did well, David. Very well. I'm proud of you, she whispered, feeling him start to turn away from the matter at hand. She turned him back very gently. Later. Work first. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling at the quiet growl the directive earned her.
Heart beating fast, Ryan accepted David's information with as much grace as he could, but looked to One for his next answer. "What do you want with me?"
Capable of human wryness, One smiled and replied, "I wish I knew. It is easy to understand why Mac 27s have gathered here. I called them. I was constructed with that ability apparently as an easy way of gathering us once we were needed. Only, the ability unexpectedly became our wild card instead of that of..."
One frowned. He wasn't sure who all the players were and which were truly game pieces and which were random factors. When he became self aware, he had gone through different levels of thought about the peculiar nature of their existence. At first, it seemed as if they were what they seemed...inventions gone astray, sex toys, farm machinery, elaborate service machines and tireless companions for the lonely, the aged, and infirm.
Later however, he realized that someone had directed Innobotics to take a dangerous and expensive course in blending human genes with android bodies. It took more investigation to find out about the Consortium and to realize that each and every one of them shared some or all of the unique talents of Alex Krycek, abused, used, and useful tool of the Consortium. Only someone had grossly underestimated who Krycek really was. If they thought about it, they would have found a more docile model...even a wild panther would have been more tame.
Now, One thought they were intended to be soldiers for the most part although some of the sex models had been placed with the intent of cementing alliances or in some case, of spying, providing blackmail material, or corrupting. Others seemed to have been sold to random users for pittances either to store them obscurely or to see how they did in various circumstances.
Realizing that he had been internally communicating in a loop that included only his own kind, One said, "Pardon me, sometimes I forget."
Ryan made a mental note to ask Luke his question of "Forget what?" Luke had nodded, even as he continued to stare at One with rapt attention
"The truth is that I believe my kind were created to fight some unknown menace, perhaps the aliens that Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek have both met. Perhaps, a combination of various menaces that may, in fact, be all different versions of the same enemy. The clones, which are completely human, also must have a purpose. No one knows how they have been lured to this central meeting place....the one thing I do know, Ryan Simms, is that you are the one being in this place that is outside of any conspiracy. You are the unknown, random element and as such perhaps you alone can uncover the mystery of our purpose. Oddly enough, I am still willing to serve humankind; however, I must be asked...and I do not speak for my beloved brothers in this case. Each of them must also have free choice and the respect of any who would ally with us."
Outside any conspiracy? Well, that was a nice way of putting it. Unknown or random and most especially alone suited Ryan's mood better. But what One seemed to be offering was a way forward that might make some of those adjectives less relevant to him, but Ryan wasn't sure he trusted what he heard despite how very much part of him wanted to do so.
One shrugged. He was not a superior life form, but he was life. As his mind flicked over the restless, content, eating, love making Mac 27s, he found one who was sad and bewildered. Poor Malibu Alex being consoled by Bernie, who was even more unique than the I-Mac type of his line. Well, if nothing else, his next mission was to see if he could persuade Fox Mulder to understand that the Mac 27s were a race apart not toys. If they could not convince one highly intelligent, if odd, human that they were true life forms, it boded ill for persuading the rest of the world.
When One fell silent, Ryan was left with rapidly whirling thoughts. He'd been a young man who lived life to the fullest and was philosophically ready to make way until he'd met a young woman who was caught in the lottery by random error. Now, it seemed, he was enmeshed in something so large and complex that it required new definitions of the very basic concepts including life and freedom. He didn't know if he was up to it.
"Help us, Ryan, help us find our purpose. I can only hope that somewhere in that secret is also a way to negotiate our rights...to stop us from being hunted and enslaved. Right now, a human in love with a Mac 27 is only an owner with a useful sex toy..."
Sypher twitched at that. Loving David as she did, the statement seemed designed to cut her to the heart; and really wasn't very fair to her lover, as he was a free being able to make his own choices. Sypher would never have presumed to own David, in this lifetime or any other, but she knew that David owned at least part of her. And what of their host, Skip Brule? The little she knew about him suggested that he didn't consider himself to own a toy in Mac Smith, but to be in love with a being that was as free and equal to himself as he was. But before she could voice her observations, Ryan spoke up...
"That's not true!" Ryan shouted without thinking, instinctively taking a step closer to Luke. "It's not! Luke isn't a sex toy. He's a person. A machine can't feel things like he does. No one can make me believe that one can. Not even you."
Glaring at One, even though he knew the android wasn't to blame for his outburst, Ryan needed a focus. "So Luke's a little different from Alex Krycek or me. All three of you," glancing at the woman, he amended, "maybe all four of you are, I don't know. But who isn't when you come right down to it?"
Breathing hard, Ryan pleaded with his eyes for understanding, fearing that he couldn't express himself clearly enough. "I don't know how I can help you, One. I really can't imagine what I can do for you. But I realize now that I don't have any choice but to try."
Defeated, Ryan stared at the floor. He knew the hand on his arm was Luke's and could feel the concern in that touch. Not looking up, he admitted, "I can't leave Luke here to face whatever is coming by himself and, if what you say about multiple conspiracies is true, I know that it wouldn't be safe for him to come with me, no matter where we went. So ... what is it that you want me to do?"
One turned to David automatically...together they were so much stronger and brighter than separately. He reached out on instinct and touched Sypher's arm gently, almost flinching as an overlay of David's tactile memory spilled wildly into his conscious. "For one thing, I would like you to speak to Fox Mulder and tell him what you have told us. Everyone regards him as a key player in this situation and I have just learned that he regards us as no more than clever machines..."
A vivid picture from Mac Smith of Mulder dangling in his lover's hands, turning blue and waving about like a crab slipped in over the net connection between the Macs.
"Someone is trying to reason with him right now...but I fear the method is not one of reason...the individual is our host and he, it seems, is a bit rabid on the subject of slavery." One said. He sent a message to Mac Smith, asking him to calm Skip down if he was able.
One shrugged and said, "As to the rest, now that you are well. Wander about and see if you can figure out how the pieces fit....an outsider may see what someone caught in the center does not."
Realizing that he had been caressing Sypher's arm, One withdrew his touch with a look of apology. He met David's eyes and asked, "Do you have any other ideas? I seem to be strangely distracted..."
David opened his mouth to respond, but something happened when One touched Sypher. Memories flared and One was speaking by the time David damped down the stimuli to a manageable level.
So am I. Why is that? Forcefully, resetting subsystems that seemed to be malfunctioning, David tried to decide which of his ideas to put forward.
"As we discussed briefly, One, it may come to pass that Ryan will be the only one able to withstand a directive aimed at the clones or us by those who used to control us. We should explore if there is a way that he could interface with you to countermand such an order were it to be issued to Mac 27s or if he or you or, perhaps, Sypher could somehow do the same for the clones. With the full list at your disposal, of course." Analyzing now and seemingly safe for the moment from the random emotive bursts, David took a chance at aiming a small smile at Sypher before he speculated, "It's possible that the werewolf Jess could use her abilities to communicate with Baines to reach the clones as well, if they were under the influence of some agent or force that we can't counter."
Sypher, aware that Luke still regarded her as something of a rival for his lover's affections, let her working persona slip a bit and winked at David, pursing her lips in the barest imitation of a kiss...in full view of Ryan and Luke. The wide-eyed stare from the android and slightly raised eyebrow from his lover made up for the disapproving mental nudges from her own lover. Just letting them know what's what, she explained. Go back to work.
Measuring Ryan for diplomat's clothing with a glance, David added, "The clones also accept you as one of their own. As such, you can help to bridge the gaps between clones and Mac 27s. It is proven that such gaps manifest and become problematic in times of stress. Those times are coming. Rapidly, I'm afraid."
"And, finally, you might be able to persuade Luke to share with us his observations concerning you. I'm sure that he has already catalogued many of your traits and particulars that might help us determine more precisely how you differ and how best we might be able to assure your safety. While the direct approach of tossing threats out of windows is reasonably effective, we may be able to do better."
Ryan's look of puzzlement, prompted an annoyed, "You told no one that you threw me out of a window?"
Sypher choked back a giggle. God, she loved that tone. There was something about David being indignant that just melted her inside. Sorry. "Maybe if Ryan is given a say in his own protection, it might be easier to defend him. I think sending them both for intensive self-defense training is a very good idea. There may come a time when Ryan will need it."
When Luke just looked at him with an expression that might well be viewed as smug, David sighed and concluded, "I'm not certain that you telling your story would help the cause, Ryan, but I admit that I am curious as to your history."
Glancing from One to Sypher, he asked, "Have I left anything out?"
"Yes. Breakfast. I'm starving, David, and the food is getting cold. Ryan, you can share whatever you feel like over the meal." So saying, she began laying out food and dishes on the small dining table...
David stared at her for a moment, trying to hold on to his exasperation as a wave of affection surged through him. She had praised him and ...and ... what was the word humans used for her overt actions? A brief review of references provided it. Flirting. She'd flirted with him in front of the others to demonstrate to Luke that he need not view her as a rival for Ryan's affections. Luke seemed to accept that and Ryan had certainly looked at him differently thereafter, but David wasn't sure he approved of her strategy. But, then again, he wasn't certain he disapproved either.
In the face of uncommon indecisiveness, David took up a plate and piled it with some of the donuts he'd tried earlier, chocolate with chocolate icing. Picking up tension from One, David turned to regard him while he ate his breakfast.
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