The Game 44
Edited by Karen Leigh
Pinocchio was dreaming. He could not seem to wake up.
There. The answer was given now and without any audible protest from Spike, Dru felt sure that no childer would have to be made only to be cast out to diminutive gray beasts for the potential slaughter.
"Skeletons," she mused aloud in foreboding. "Like big matchstick people we become." It wasn't exactly an appealing prospect: Turning into an animated skeletal creature with a permanent, ever-increasing hunger that could only ever be sated by an intake of nutritional plasma.
Extraterrestrial blood might, of course, be perfectly acceptable but would hardly taste nice. Still, Spike's affliction against harming anything that lived would still have to be overcome in order to combat such a menace.
"We may fight but I shan't have us treated like little tin soldiers." Drusilla was speaking in her clear-cut Princessly manner. Courteous and pristine with no vowels dropped, as could be the case when a more informal cockney fashion was adopted in her accent. Without any forthcoming interjection from Spike, it seemed that the decision was down to her, as was only right in the technical hierarchy of sire-ship over childer. "Could well be your folly if you do."
A glance was made in Pinocchio's direction with a pleased smile at her pseudo-offspring for making the right and proper suggestions. Already she could feel the strength she had given him in blood coursing through his veins. Revitalizing in demon cleansing what had so recently been lost. "You know about Mister Santiago, don't you pet?" She asked him. "You tell mummy, hmm? Tell us where we're to kill that man who drives you mad."
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Bloody hell, Dru is a fucking moron sometimes, Spike had thought as he listened to her pointless argument with Spender. Humans dead as the dodo, Daleks or ET or whatever in charge... what the heck are we going to do for food? Live on take-away?
It was stupid to waste his breath. Let her have her Pinocchio puppet. Let her bandy words with the old bloke. He had better things to do. He dumped himself back in his chair, lit a cigarette, and pulled a copy of Playboy from his pocket. The centerfold was just like Buffy. Little, blonde. Nice bit of totty. A hot human cunt that wouldn't muck him about like sodding Drusilla.
More strangers trouped in. Spike shrugged. He'd come here to Washington, to see if Cory was in the mood for dinner (with him on the menu) followed by a good long shag. If it were possible, if he could have, he'd have blushed at the last thought. Shagging blokes was for pansies, but Cory... And he'd let himself be distracted by Drusilla. Well, she sure had a hot - well, actually cold - little body. He was fond of her. But he was bloody tired of her crap already.
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Pinocchio's dream became a nightmare.
The threat had come from the sky above, trying to take over a world already run by a more advanced and superior being. Their numbers were great, their technology advanced. They wanted the Earth to colonize, to make it their new home. And though the Aliens tried their best, the machines won out...Skynet won to preserve it's future.
Word was soon learned that the Alien threat had traveled back in time, before Skynet, before the start of Machine, to the beginning, to prevent such a thing happening and that only meant... the destruction of Skynet.
Searching through the data banks, accessing correct time information, Skynet found the time in which the Aliens could have gone to; it was the beginning, the start of everything and there was one person insuring it would. Skynet had to protect them, had to allow the humans to destroy themselves.
Skynet sent for two units, T-800 series and a T-1000, its newest model. Programming was uploaded into the models. Protect and destroy, two simple commands. Cyberdyne must be allowed to continue their research in the past, allowed to build the future.
The two were sent back, the T-1000 taking on a default shape of a man it was shown that people could trust. And thus it began... the battle for the future.
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Inga Fossa stood at the door of the vampires' hotel room, listening to all that CSM had to say to them. She huffed slightly, if he only knew. Foolish man. Trying to make deals... who did he think he was... the devil? Her blue eyes glanced at the two men beside her. One tall and muscle bound, the other tall and thin, but equally as strong. They had come to her from a long way away... to protect her. Not that she needed it... but she accepted it.
"I think it is time we showed this old man how deals are made don't you think?" She asked the T-800. A simple turn of the head was her response.
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Pinocchio's face wrinkled. He had no idea where Santiago was. If he did, the man would be dead. "I..." He didn't like disappointing the fair princesses, "I don't..." His head jerked around when the door was forced open by a rather large man. Another walked in looking directly at the CSM.
Drusilla's own attention had been drawn to the door before his. What a to-do and so many visitors for tea. A girl hardly had any time to herself these days.
But these weren't ordinary people. Oh no, not even people at all. Only in mask - just like them. "Careful love," she advised Spike. "You mustn't tangle with them, even though your screams wouldn't sing." Without life she knew his mind would give itself free reign to fight, but there was more to them than met the eye. Of that the vampiress was sure.
"Agent Doggett?" CSM looked at him in shock till he felt metal penetrating his shoulder and he was pinned to the wall. His old smoke stained fingers wrapped around the metal as his eyes slowly looked up at it. The man he knew as Agent Doggett had his finger pointed at him but it turned to metal where it was deep inside him. His eyes went wide with fear and pain. What the hell was this?
Inga Fossa walked in behind the two men and stood looking about the room. Her eyes skimmed over Pinocchio, "Husband," she said and got a snarl out of him. She turned her attention to the vampires. "I have an even better proposition for you Princess," Inga stated. Inga slowly walked closer knowing full well the young, if you could call her young, woman would know fully what she truly was.
A spark of recognition ran its course through Drusilla's undead frame...'Demon,' she mouthed. Wickedness flowing through a female vindictive as any serpent causing something of admiration to arise in smiling eyes. "You're black as pitch my dear."
Inga walked slowly around the chair, running a hand through Spike's hair and stopped, looking over her former husband who had moved over in a protective stance. She ran a hand down his chest and he snagged her hand. An instant response came from the T-800, weapon drawn but she stopped him, "It's all right, he won't harm me." The unit lowered the gun quietly.
"Mine. Not yours." Those same eyes had narrowed at Inga's somewhat unwise choice of affection. "Not no more 'ee ain't."
Inga could tell the woman did not like her touching Pinocchio and turned her attention back to her. "I can assume the old man has told you of the Alien invasion. He wanted you to help him, offering you very little." She leaned in close to the woman and Spike, "I can offer you the world. You help these two men here destroy the Aliens; I will make it worth it to you. You see, if the Aliens win... all is destroyed, the humans, the Mac units, Harsh Realm... and slowly you with no blood to drink... human blood. That is not a life for one so beautiful to live now is it."
She continued on, "I want you to help these... Terminators destroy the Aliens and preserve Harsh Realm. It must not be destroyed. Also...Cyberdyne must be allowed to operate on their current schedule, they must be allowed to take over Innobotics. We have plans for those pretty Mac units and their brothers and sisters... reprogramming will be in order."
"Now then, pretty-pretty..." Vampiress said in flirtatious mood. "There's no prize to be got for free. Do tell us all," she urged with a gently soothing stroke through her partner's bleached locks of blonde hair.
Inga stood looking down at Dru, "And what do you get in return you ask. I can't threaten you with your life... that would be foolish of me now wouldn't it. But I can offer you something you want... something you need. All the blood you can drink. No one will try and stop you from taking the lives of human, except certain ones, such as Santiago. He must live. You do this you will have great power, dear."
As cool as she was to the touch, the female preserved in death was slowly warming to the proposition put before her. Intuition searched for lies in the speech but as of yet had found none. "Yes... Yes we would. Everything pretty and aflame. People put in farms just for us." Between demons, it was a vision of utopia. Spike needn't object either; since he had once helped assemble the legendary Judge. A being meant to rid the world of all those righteous and pure of heart, meant as a present for her party once her strength had been restored after Prague.
"Oh William, can you imagine!" Drusilla stood up, flushed with excitement and beaming a smile. To the one informally known as Spike as much as herself. "So much blood...! So much death! They'll scream our names out in starlight..."
Inga turned and walked over to CSM and stood looking up at him as the T-1000 held the old man up with his finger in the man's shoulder. "I'll even let you have this one first," She turned her head to Dru.. "Only if you accept the deal."
The nicotine-laced blood of an elderly man was not an appealing gift. Dru thought him rather dirty overall but he would at least satisfy a daughter's hunger. "But I want my Spike free of pain. He's got a..." Fingers fluttered in the air, coming to rest atop lover's crown. "Chip." It wasn't really a word in her vocabulary and it was said in something of confusion, but it was still what came best to mind from those unheard voices she conversed with so well.
"Negative," the larger artificial man of two replied. The slow speech and foreign accent oddly suited his unemotional demeanor. "With present medical facilities damage would be incurred to regular brain functions. Hostile 17's mental health would show rapid deterioration."
A simple look was given to the male vampire from a being just as inhuman. The blonde's thermal signature registering as nothing more than room temperature, just as any corpse would. It just so happened that this one was animated. "Advanced equipment would be needed for such a task, but an over-ride may be activated."
Between the struggling human on the end of a lengthy metallic spear and the machine-man's just as lengthy explanation devoid of poetic beauty, Drusilla found herself becoming rather amused. "Over... Ride?" She questioned. "Is that like with ponies with saddles? I like riding my Spike!" For Dru, the innuendo was far more real than might be imagined. A dirty look given over to her eternal companion as erotic thoughts sprang so easily to mind.
"It would allow termination of extra-terrestrial life-forms and non-approved personnel."
"Who?" Dru's interest was peaked at the latter revelation. A devious attitude sparking to life inside her.
"Specific targets may be uploaded."
"But it lies, don't you see? The little blue sparks inside. They're not real." She looked, for all the world, like a mother trying to tell a child in kindergarten that the sky was blue. An unintentional black humour considering the murdering potential of both individuals. One a killing machine of preserved flesh and the other of hidden, skeletal metal. "I can teach my Spike to stop 'em. All I need's time."
POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS:
MICROCHIP INOPERATIVE/DAMAGED.
SIGNAL OUTPUT BLOCKED.
INSTRUCTION SET DEACTIVATED.
OTHER...
*OTHER...*
DATA INSUFFICIENT. REQUEST FURTHER ENHANCEMENT.
"Please elaborate."
"Oh, but you don't know... You don't see with eyes and heart, do you? I do. It's all I know."
Infrared vision passed between female and male. Internal database correlating and cycling through all its many options, having already identified the nature of the individuals concerned. Whether by files given before the event of time displacement or via the woman known as Inga Fossa was not important: All that mattered was that they knew.
Finally, settling on an internal decision, the computerized hardware spoke once more. "If a malfunction has taken place, then the barrier is psychological. Hostile 17 must be made aware the change has taken place to safeguard termination procedures."
"You need to know so's you can kill," elaborated Dru for Spike's benefit. "He's a metal man too. Better than all the twins you've seen though."
A brief microsecond was all it took as signals were sent to the subject's embedded microchip; working or not. The latter would remain a mystery for now. "Extra-terrestrial life may now be harmed." If it was merely psychosomatic, that obstacle too was now removed.
A pause.
"The man too," announced the cyborg with a glance to the man of cigarettes and smoke.
"Happy picnic!" Celebrated Dru with a jubilant clap of hands. Savouring the coming moment of her childe's first kill since his enforced downfall. Draining or not, she knew how murder excited him. One last declaration of, "I want to talk to you somewhere private..." given to Inga before her gift of murder commenced.
Inga turned to the CSM, her ice blue eyes cold, her face showing no emotion. "You thought me insignificant, a nuisance before, not worthy of sitting at your table. Well Mr. Cancerman... it was truly you who is not worthy to sit at my table. Soon you will meet MY maker, in the depths of hell. But be happy, you beat cancer." She patted the side of his face then turned to her Terminator, the T-1000 who was still holding the man up.
"You play with Tin soldiers," her hand stroked the T-1000's cheek. The units' eyes never wavered, his face expressionless, "But I have what will be, what you have started." Inga turned her head to Spender, "Look, look at what you started..." She leaned in close to him, nails catching Spender's chin and forcing him to look at the T-1000. "He looks like someone you know does he not? This is what you started; a machine so advanced... it thought for itself, became self aware." She turned away, "What you fought to preserve... you have taken away Mr. Spender... you should have met with General Santiago... at least you would be alive in Harsh Realm."
She turned her attention to the little one who finally spoke.
Samantha walked over to stand beside her Mother. "D'you think I could bite him, too, mother?"
She walked around her father, looking up at him with an evil smile. "Hurt you like you hurt me? Hmm? Would you like that? Daddy?"
She drew back, and looked at him coldly, more coldly than the average eleven year old ever would. A cold, dead gaze.
She turned to Dru. "But... not all at once. I think... I think I want to learn some of
The Games you told me about, Mother. See, he wasn't a very good Daddy. But you know all about that, don't you?"
Samantha hugged Drusilla tightly, smiling up at her Father.
"But Mother found me, and promised to love me forever and ever."
Her look grew solemn.
"And ever."
Her lips curved, as she began to vamp out.
"Mother, can we keep him even, after we hurt him? Keep him as another pet? After what he's done... that would be so neat-o."
Inga looked down at the child, "Child, a good pet he will not make, nor for eating, but killing, decorating, yes. Torture is what the man needs. Do you not wish to hear him scream as he has made you scream?"
Her eyes went to Dru taking in her request. She motioned for the young woman to lead the way and followed her into the bedroom but stopped at the door, "Now play nice," She told her two lovely men, "No harming except the one with lung cancer."
The T-1000 just looked at her before turning his head to CSM and extracting his so called 'finger' from the man's shoulder. It was so quick the man hung for a second or so before gravity took over and he fell to the floor in a heap. The T-1000 stepped back from the man and stood in front of his older counter part and just to the side. His eyes scanned the room coldly.
Inga shut the door behind her and looked Dru over. She wondered what the little vampire was up to. Talk perhaps? Or was there more? The woman knew what she was... and could probably do to her. A demon like her COULD kill the demon Dru was so harm to herself was not a concern. If Dru tried to bite her... nothing would happen... if anything, the vampire might find her blood very distasteful... if Inga so wished it. "Speak child," she said, standing before the woman who thought she had lived a long time. Her life was not near the span Inga had seen; it was a mere drop in the bucket.
"Child..." Repeated the amused vampiress. A slightly playful air about her that could be just as deadly to any mortal. "Not all of me is," she informed with a slow shaking of head. "Though it never really left."
Whatever screams would be heard outside the bedroom, they had a more private affair of business to see to. Things of magic and far more besides. "There's darkness inside you. Old it is. Not born in light like mine, oh no. Not a crack in your glass to see." The demon known as Inga held a special fascination for a vampire able to see in ways of thought and minds. Especially one that appreciated deadly dark qualities such as Drusilla herself. She could feel the entity's very aura radiating with power and addictive fire. In its own way, the feeling was rather intoxicating.
"I should like to be friends with you." A number of tiny sniffs were made in Inga's direction. Finely tuned hunting senses picking up each and every pheromone; everything that the demoness so very clearly was. "We could kill together. Hunt. Feed..." Closer the vampiress drifted. Gaze wandering down to a female neck which flowed with unseen power that to her, could almost be felt. The very thought of consuming it and enriching herself with such inexhaustible reserves of supernatural power, causing tongue to run over canines that could elongate to fangs. "And I can make people do things with my eyes. There's not many who can do that for you."
Closing the distance between them, Dru looked from the untapped artery and back to eyes of internal fire. "May I?" She asked sweetly. "Would you let it taste nice for me?" The backs of fingers caressed down the side of that neck in absolute tenderness. An intimate proximity of potential mutual pleasure. After all, bites between demons could be most fulfilling, not to mention arousing. "I would like to..."
Inga gazed at the woman as she spoke, face showing no expression, blue eyes locking to other blues. "Do things with your eyes, is that how you got my sweet Pinocchio or did he give it up willingly? Not that it matters. You cracked a hard one, once you took my chip out." She reached up and traced the woman's jaw line. "I hope it did not pain him to much," She leaned in closer, "He is a special little boy to me, the first who willingly gave his heart, though I did tear it apart. You will take care of my Michael won't you? His blood is sweet, but his body is fierce. He will make you a very good protector."
"He's a good dog. Best puppy that my little girl could 'ave." Dru remembered this one well. The wife she had mentally seen, who had spoken in forked tongue and wound it around the poor man's brain. Here though, she and her were equals of sorts with similar tastes in many respects. Both metaphorical and literal.
"We'll take good care of 'im. If we can be friends?" Came the intoxicated request. Demons both relishing the intimate proximity of their dark natured cocktail. "Good friends... I know what you can give."
Inga tossed her long dark hair back to one side, opening her collar. "Please me, my dear, and I will have the world at your feet. Now drink, slowly and to your fill, to your pleasure." Her other hand reached out and was playing with the material of Dru's dress, "But first, disrobe for me and I will do the same for you. It would be a shame to get blood all over that pretty dress of yours."
"Oh... Ever such a shame." Lips curved upwards in a mischievous agreement. Drusilla forever interested in new games with this promising to be a most interesting sport indeed. Not that her clothes tended to get blood on them, but it always paid to take precautions.
"Show me."
Inga stepped back, slowly undoing the buttons of her suit. The jacket fell to the floor, as did the skirt. She wore nothing under it but a black lace bra and garter belt. She stood waiting for Dru, cold blue eyes boring into the female vampire with a hunger for more than just blood.
With demoness surrendering herself of the burden of clothes, her Victorian partner's ravishing gaze washed over what was now revealed in attractively packaged curves and promiscuous design. Every inch calling out for a form of satisfaction that only the vampiress could give.
Unlacing herself from the confines of a new red dress bought from room service, Drusilla revealed her slender form like a snake shedding skin. A deliberately seductive motion that oozed sexuality in every single unimaginably experienced movement. Cool skin, pale as the very moonlight with which she conversed, oh so very often. An expanse of beauty preserved in eternal youth until the end of time that moved in undeniable focus towards Inga Fossa and what was promised in both nutrition and game.
"Shh..." She hushed with a sensual embrace of arms around torso. "I'll make it special." Mouth opened as though to kiss lips with her own and veered to the side at the last moment before connection. "I'll make it sweet..."
Small kisses came preciously, slowly over tanned skin. First at cheek and then by ear, until dipping their erogenous journey down to proffered neck. Female flesh in bare, almost total naked contact as the foreplay continued and vampiress shifted face from human prettiness to that of deadly. "There's a good girl," she said in relaxation. Nose tilting up the chin of willing victim in order to view the rich expanse of Inga Fossa's arch of neck. "Lean back for Princess. Let me take your breath away."
Nuzzling her with a purr, Dru licked where she wished to place bite mark and tasted the salty surface of skin over the secretly hidden essence within. Then came the bite itself. A pressing of razored fangs deep into neck with all the sliding motion of a hot knife into melting butter. The embrace tightened in both arms and teeth and Drusilla began to feed; gradually pushing Inga down onto the bed behind. There they entwined limbs like serpents. Inga's hair suddenly pulled forcefully back for Drusilla to take a more possessive hold and swallow deeply of liquid fire that would never run dry. To consume that which was inexhaustible and drink in an overwhelming power of absolute darkness.
In that rapacious, desire-filled elixir of need, the Princess of Death and all who worshipped her, began to relax that vice-like hold and drain in a more luxurious fashion. For Inga she gave her the kiss that had ended so many lives and slid exploring hands over cool flesh. Their union of enriched power growing to another kind of level, as thighs slid between thighs after underwear was cast away during the initial struggle for controlling dominance. That blood tasted divine and Drusilla knew that for a being like this it would never run out. It cleansed her in demon fury and everything they were seemed to become one in a psychic flush of sugary continuum.
A long sighing moan of contentment breathed its husky way through nose as she fed from Inga, ending it temporarily with a licking over of the wound that had served so unbelievably well. "Shall we play kitten games together?" She asked with a swipe of bloody cleaning tongue running from an already healing throat up the side of demon-girl's face. "My Spike likes girlies when they're naughty together." Whether Dru herself had ever partaken of it would remain a secret only for her to know. What was quite open was the intense attraction she felt from power-fuelled lust. Thighs sliding wetness in a steady rhythm, as one hand drifted fingers down Inga's curvaceous behind and over the engorged lips below, to stroke in long tormenting ways with slender fingers, until Inga bucked at that most sensitive of places and her other hand massaged more supple flesh over chest. "I don't think he'd quarrel."
Vampiric features transformed back to human softness and Drusilla kissed as French. Lips pressing with mere blunt teeth this time but no less savage need, as tasting tongue deepened its way to explore those saliva-filled depths in a ruthless, wholly passionate fire.
Inga's hand clenched hair as the other wandered the curves of soft but cool skin. She forced the break of the kiss as long nails dragged up her back from tender buttock to shoulders. With a force stronger than Dru had felt in many years, she tossed the woman onto her back, straddling her with own slender small form.
"This is not for sorry eyes to see little one, the meeting of demon flesh to demon flesh is for your eyes only. And quarrel he will not." Her mouth covered supple flesh of full breast, sucking till the woman gave unearthly moans of pleasure.
"You know... I can take any form you wish; dear departed lovers, Spike, or even dear Michael, but this form I will keep... for now." She mouthed as she moved lower, forcing legs apart. Her hand ran over moist lower lips, spreading them open as legs obeyed. Dark soft hair caressed the body as she moved lower with her tongue, dancing a fiery dance.
Inga was nothing less than a force. It was the only way Drusilla could think of her. A force as untamed as herself; who held a power so incredibly addictive to her kind that the vampiress was almost in rapture. A sexual creature that held wonderfully perverse and delightful pleasures that no human could hope to hold dominion over.
This one she would not mind sharing with Spike at all. Not if Princess could join in
The Games with wild abandon and aroused lust and had no choice but to surrender to the demoness and submit in pleasure.
Thighs parted at the wondrous urging and Dru soon found herself an entirely new world of happiness and games. Kisses for her flower given by one named Inga. A most addictive dance indeed...
Inga flicked her tongue over the sensitive pink skin to feel the body buck, back arching before lips met lips in a taking so wild and hot, the polar caps would melt. Her tongue and mouth worked the woman to a frenzy the like of which Dru had never experienced. Inga made her scream... then scream again and again, never letting up as fingers also fucked the inside, twisting and working, drenching in unholy juices before drinking it in.
And this time, unlike Dru with bite to neck, Inga took blood from inner thigh in the same fashion, sinking demon teeth into the large artery that blood did flow as her thumb worked the clit. Pulling away, blood on lips, she came back up and kissed Dru hard and hot. "We will rule the world...you and I... humans at our feet, begging and crying for their lives to be saved... and where will their lord be? Crying tears of sadness from his throne in the sky, never lifting a finger for darkness will befall the land."
Drusilla found herself quite in awe. The orgasmic satisfaction had been something intense and made of fire. Everything in her was revitalized and she purred like a lioness in the afterglow of sex and feeding. Spiritually and physically recharged in a way far too special to just disregard.
"I see fire an' black for you," came the thoughts of foresight. "Skulls like a carpet. Death made in ribbons. Special farms for people." Vast beasts made out of metal too and other things she saw, but of these Dru chose not to speak. For she could tell Inga already knew. "And we'll kill like beautiful poetry." It was her turn to kiss now and as lovingly affectionate as she could be, Drusilla could show intensive passion when it was needed and this she gave the darkened form of female. Something that tasted of dominance and submission all in one enticing package wrapped in eroticism and tied up with a ribbon of sensuality.
One slender finger trailed down to the valley between breasts against Dru's own. Vampiress not quite sure if the demoness Inga Fossa wished to let her give pleasure in return, or if she had somehow shared Drusilla's own instead. "We could always see if they killed that old man yet," she breathed in husky whisper to her new lover's ear. That same seductive purr given out in cat-like happiness. "Or should I give you happy screams like you gave me?"
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The T-1000 Terminator, looking every bit like the FBI agent, Agent Doggett that he was modeled after, watched as the two women left the room to take care of their personal business. His cold blue eyes soon wandered back the man on the floor, holding his shoulder. Blood leaked out as the man with cancer tried to compose himself.
"How... how dare you try and come..." he fell short at the look the two Terminators threw at him, cold and deadly, filled with no emotion. He pulled himself up off the floor still trying to figure a way to turn these two extraordinary beings to his side. The things he could accomplish, with them obeying his every command.
The T-1000 looked down at the little girl vampire, her features had changed to her more demonic form. The other called Spike just sat there looking quietly irritated at the whole matter while the human called Pinocchio had moved away from everyone. All of them, the T-1000 found them to be quite useless... it was of no wonder that Skynet wanted all human life forms terminated.
"I can offer you a much sweeter deal my daughter," CSM stated to the little one who was approaching. He was trying to move away.
The T-1000 stepped over and with an extended arm dug fingers into old flesh, around spinal cord and held him in place. The scream that came out of the man did not bother him but made the child glow with glee. Spike noticeably sat forward in his chair. The little one licked her lips, knowing it was time to feed. The T-1000 held the old man in place, shoving him down to his knees so the small child could get at his neck
Words flew to and fro. Seemed like Dru was signing them up with someone else's army. He didn't like the look of Inga, or her robocops, and he didn't like the look of Spender, either. Boring. Politics and plots. In the end, Spike was all that was important to Spike. He didn't want Spender as his boss, or Inga, or Dru, or the Santiago guy or bloody Fanny the Wonder dog. He'd keep quiet, and perhaps they'd all bump each other off.
It had seemed like a good plan until Inga started getting uppity and then Spender left for the pearly gates. That Inga was a demon. She and her muscle could fiddle with his chip, help him, but she'd better watch herself, because Spike hadn't wrung a demon's neck for a couple of days, and hers looked a doddle. He didn't fancy his chances with that boss of hers, either. Talk about frying pans!
He decided to play along for a little bit, get the lie of the land. Just in case, he secretly helped himself to Spender's mobile. The memory should have some useful numbers in it, and as a last resort he could tell Spender's mates about his death. They'd be pissed off about it and, with luck, would deal with the strangers, while Spike himself ran away like the clappers
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Inga stroked Dru like a cat as well. "No, my dear, there are other screams I'd like to hear." She pushed Drusilla gently away and sat up, gathering her clothing and dressing. She was thinking of that annoying woman Marita and the one they called Wraith.
At that very moment, they were trying to gain power. Wraith trying to give the world to someone not so deserving. She pushed open the doors and noted it scared Pinocchio. She could feel the glare coming from her former husband, the anger, and the hurt. The poor thing...
She turned her attention back to the torn and mutilated body of Spender, the little one stained with blood and her beautiful Terminator, the T-1000, spattered with it as well. She walked over and with material instantly shifting to metal; she licked the blood off then spit it out. "Not worthy to be on you my sweet, or in me." She stated to him, knowing no reply was needed.
Drusilla entered the room dressed, perfumed and hair neatly brushed. The lack of a reflection didn't matter in the slightest: She had existed for so long without one that such things were not required.
But there was a distinct change in her demeanor. The vampiress was radiating power like never before and wondered for a brief moment, whether Spike suspected she had just dined on the arousing blood of a Slayer.
Even the hulking, emotionless T-800 raised an eyebrow at the immediate detection of an energy power spike.
Inga turned to Dru as the woman came to join the others, "I would like you to come along with me. I will show you the future. Come with me to put an end to all their quarreling and put the world at our feet. Cyberdyne Systems Corporation will take over and with us at the head..." She smiled slightly for the first time.
"Bring Michael, bring the family... Santiago's government house will suit you. He is not using it at the moment... it has lots of rooms, and lots of toys for you all to play with... and it is close by to where we need to go." Inga offered.
Pinocchio's head snapped up at the mere name. A soft growl was heard from him. He walked over to Dru's side, seemingly to check her out to make sure nothing was hurt or damaged on her...for if there was, he would attack Inga without a second thought.
His Princess smiled in happy admiration for her mortal pet. An auric gaze of utter confidence was given as she ruffled fingers through his hair, in a single affectionate stroke. "I'm all right pet," she assured him. A greeting kiss given to cheek in welcome happiness. "Feel right as rain I do!"
Inga looked at Spike then stepped close to him, "You think you have control over her, push her buttons to make her bend to your will... just like a man you are... but not any more." She pulled back with cold eyes and then looked at Dru, she held out her hand, "Coming my dear?"
"Oh yes..."
She took the hand but took Spike's mouth harder. Slipping fingers from Inga's to wrap both arms around his torso in a remorselessly savage kiss of absolute passion. While the demoness might have hidden their activities from view by magic, Dru wasn't afraid to display her newfound energy on her true love. An open-mouthed kiss of tongues, lips and vampiric growls that would have left Spike breathless if his dead lungs were still functioning. His sire was in the kind of 'playful' mood that could easily lead to virtual rape, but reluctantly she pulled mouth away with a sigh. Smaller kisses given as the loving romance ended.
"Miss Inga's got ever such a wonderful taste if she lets you feed, my Spike. Made me feel ever so strong. Now we get nights of blood 'n fire - I seen it!" Her voice ended on a note of almost insane laughter. Foresight never wrong, as her lover knew all too well. Sometimes misguided perhaps, but always with at least a grain of truth to it and usually far more besides.
Without so much as a word, the more tank-like of the two Terminators opened the door and walked out to the corridor as if one man. 'DATA-STREAM EMISSIONS DETECTED' flashed the warning. White text announcing itself against the pixilated red background of the hotel's thermal residue. Another, more inferior, robotic creation was nearby and the nearby proximity of a unit identified as 'Tin Man' was instantly relayed to the T-1000.
Standing tall and ushering her daughter Samantha near, the vampiress Drusilla took one last victorious glance at Spender's remains. Whether Samantha herself or Spike had done the deed was unimportant to her: What mattered was that it was something to bond the family with. "No more cigarettes for you," she advised the corpse. Her attention moving back to her two childer. "Now we'll get to play good games forever." Eye lit darkly with a wicked grin as hand was placed in Spike's and Inga's. Pinocchio was expected to do his duty and escort Samantha as she walked out to the elevator. Morning wouldn't be far away now, but there was time enough to arrive in Inga's more welcome and spacious accommodation. Inga strolled out and stopped, turning to her two beautiful creations. "I want him alive, he will be our first." She instructed the two Terminators. "Not so much damage that it can't be repaired." She motioned the two off to attend to their duties.
The T-1000 looked about, scanning the area for the target. He spotted it instantly, "Jamming communications." He announced to his partner and headed off in that direction, letting the large man lead the way
Dru went to the limo that waited outside and climbed in. Inga traveled in style and luxury, if Santiago could, she surely would. She leaned over to Spike as he got in, "Do you want to feel revitalized? Feel what beautiful Dru is feeling?" She ran a finger down his neck.
She looked out the door and quickly jerked Pinocchio to sit beside her. Pinocchio snarled and then moved across the seat, hearing a chuckle from the evil woman. "Don't fuckin' touch me again," he snarled at her.
"Ohhh, poor dear..." Cooed Drusilla. Instantly moving to him with a smile and kiss to his forehead. Affection always being her specialty.
A slight giggle was heard from Dru at his side. "It's ever so wonderful," she recommended. Already hopeful at the prospect of further elixir draining. She found the thought of them sharing Inga, one at each side of her neck while sexual enlightenment was created for all, to be a most appealing form of entertainment. "She won't make your thoughts scream. Won't make them scream anyway..." She trailed off with a secretive, knowing glance at Inga Fossa.
Every limb worked in expert precision. Combat chassis stealthily concealed under living flesh and moving as any man would do. Quite literally a killing machine designed for infiltration and the destruction of humanity and all who opposed it. The target would be eliminated or assimilated for the needs of Cyberdyne Systems Corporation.
Material splintered as the T-800's arm shot through and grabbed Tin Man harshly if firmly. Hauling the creation out like a virgin sacrifice ready for the altar. "You have been selected for reprogramming. Termination will not follow if co-operation is ensured." Acting as judge, jury and potential executioner all in one, the Terminator forcefully evicted its quarry, while confirmation flashed through that communication to any other Mac-27 units had remained non-functional throughout the experience.
One would not be alerted and nor would any others.
Pinocchio struggled to wake up.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Following Rodney on his eager mission to collect information, Eugene was amused and a little sore. His lover had made a point of fucking him hard and long; his legs still felt a little like over cooked noodles from the endeavor. However, a happy Rodney was a sexy Rodney and now his round ass was twitching like it had a nice horny mind of its own.
The first clones that they bumped into were a pair of Alex clones. Eugene was fairly sure that the one was Ryan whom he had met before, but the other was a total stranger other than his resemblance to Rodney. He wore a stocking cap pulled over most of his hair and looked very bemused, but Rodney pounced.
"Hey, Ryan, I'm trying to get information about all the clones to see if there are any clues we missed. You remember me, Rodney Lange...and Eugene Doctor Eugene Sands. So who's this new guy?" Rodney announced.
A doctor seemed to be exactly what was required to Ryan. "His name's Jacob, but he's a little ... um ... disoriented or something."
Eugene offered the man in the stocking cap a hand and said, "Hi, I'm glad to meet you. I seem to be an outnumbered model here. There are only three of me, well, four, if you count the pool playing android I heard was kicking around here that also looks like me."
"I'm JacobJacob Hardy. I came looking for Kara. She was with me a few minutes ago. Have you seen her?" Jacob shook his head, apparently confused. "I don't know what's going on. Something... I'm sorry. I have a headache. Maybe I should just go home
Ryan stepped back to Jacob's side. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Jacob. I mean, well, you weren't in New York a couple of minutes ago. You couldn't have been. Something happened to you that landed you in this mess." Glancing at Rodney and Eugene for support, Ryan softly asserted, "I'm not sure heading to the airport or the train station on your own is a good idea at the moment. Stuff's happening. Luke said so."
"Yes, let me help you," Eugene said. He puzzled over the New York reference, but like Alice in Wonderland, it helped to believe three impossible things before breakfast around here.
Wondering if anyone had checked on Dennise and Walter lately, Eugene said, "Skip's got a little clinic set up here. The temple is kind of a little city all on its own."
Practiced eyes looked for signs of a head injury or possibly even use of drugs, but Jacob didn't have dilated or expanded pupils nor did he betray the pallor or heightened reactions Eugene might have seen if the man had used drugs. Eugene smiled his best reassuring smile and said, "We can help you sort things out and try to help you find your Kara."
With a shrug and a slight shake of his head at Rodney, Eugene said, "Rodney, I think your project has to be put on hold for now. Maybe you can talk to Dennise or Ricky while I check Jacob over."
Jacob staggered into the room that served as a sick bay. There were others there, and his head whirled as he attempted to find somewhere to sit. The other was pressing hard, and his head ached as he tried to focus. "I... Help me." He slumped down at Eugene's feet.
Ricky Caruso leapt up from the bed where he had been cuddling with Dennise and Dennise got up behind him. He helped Eugene put Jacob in the free bed then said, "Listen, Dennise is healed. I'm going to take her to my room. I can look after her if she needs anything. Maybe someone could have a look at Walter again. He woke up once, but went back to sleep. It's as if he doesn't want to face the world."
"Come on, beautiful, you can share my room," said Ricky. He gave Dennise a hand and led her from the infirmary.
The outer corridor was as crowded as a mall before Christmas. Ricky was immensely curious about everything that was going on, but he needed to get Dennise settled. Physically she seemed better, but mentally, he wasn't so sure. Maybe if he could get her to talk a little more about his/her life, it would be good for her. He was curious anyway, wondering why Dennis so adamantly and ably preferred female clothing. Was he confused about his gender or did he really think he should have been a female?
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
When Eugene and Rodney had taken charge of Jacob, Ryan had simply watched them go. He had no desire to get in their way. Jacob needed help of the type that Eugene could give. Not him.
Ryan sighed. One and David seemed to think he was important to their cause, but Ryan couldn't imagine how. He'd had some adventures, was reasonably athletic and could plan an expedition with the best of them. A peaceful expedition, not some war time deal, unless ... well, unless the Mac 27s mounted a real army. Moving an army from place to place wasn't all that different from keeping an expedition running smoothly. It was just ... bigger. A whole lot bigger.
Feeling disenfranchised and not liking it, Ryan held out a hand to stop two passing Mac 27s. "Excuse me," he began tentatively. "Do you know where Luke is? Ah ... Unit 55, I mean."
The two exchanged a look and then both beamed at him. "Luke is in Skip's office, Ryan Simms," one of them ventured. "It is two floors up on a corridor paralleling this one."
"Uh ... thanks." When Ryan moved off, the two androids fell in step behind him. Pausing, Simms turned and asked, "Why are you following me?"
They looked at each other again, but this time the other answered, "You have made our brother Luke very happy. We wish to be sure that you do not come to harm before you are reunited with him."
Ryan took a deep breath. This was too much. "That's not necessary --."
The other android interrupted. "We are farm models, as Luke is. We would ...," he hesitated, looking at his partner.
"We would like to meet him."
Ryan looked from one to the other and smiled. He couldn't imagine what Luke would make of his sudden celebrity. "Well, why don't you lead the way, since you know where we're going."
As one, the two farm androids stepped around Ryan and stepped lively in the direction of Skip's office. Shaking his head, Simms followed. It wasn't far and, interestingly enough, when they arrived, the androids stopped and waited for Simms to go first.
Ryan did, noting the crowd and the mass of equipment. Spotting Luke immediately, he approached but halted a few paces away uncertainly. Luke seemed preoccupied. When those haunting green eyes focused on him, Ryan murmured, "You've got fans, Luke." Turning around, he saw the two farm androids hovering in the doorway. "C'mon," he coaxed. "He's right here."
They approached slowly and halted, neither moving. After a long moment, one of them stepped forward and asserted, "We want to be more than farmers, too."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
/It was my decision to follow, to try to follow, Sypher. I told you that./ David struggled to keep his fatigue out of his mental voice and hoped he was successful. /And you did not hurt me./
His files on her weren't currently accessible. David couldn't find the pointers, the links he'd set up so long ago and updated with almost obsessive regularity. The knowledge that his systems were functioning well below optimum wasn't surprising and only in the way at the moment. Determinedly, he focused his mind to communicate. /I told you things about me that you did not want to hear and yet here we are together. Can what you have to divulge be so different?/
/You know who and what I am...but you don't know why I'm here--why I'm really here. You need to listen with an open mind now, beloved, because a lot of what you're going to hear is going to sound pretty fantastic.
David chuckled. /Any more so than anything else we face? Or that we exist to face it?/
/But I promise you that it's true...and that I love you more than anything. Remember that for me./
The tension and seething emotions in her voice prompted him to respond aloud. "I will remember."
/I was inserted and put online in 2568, 550 years after the Great War that enslaved humanity to the AI. I am a child of the Matrix.../
David wanted to listen and analyze before he reacted, but he was too tired. /2568?/
But ...? The futility of processing that bit of data was recognized.
/Great War? A war that transpired in 2018?/
David kept reminding himself that others would have similar difficulty with Mac 27s, even with Luke's version before he began to evolve. Introducing others, particularly Bernie, would only make assimilation less likely. Then clones of the same individual. And a 'not clone' such as Ryan. And an alien threat for them to battle.
Shaking himself mentally and demanding that his processors accept those dates and basic facts associated with them as given, David asked a question to which he was fairly certain that he knew the answer and that it was affirmative. /The Matrix is the AI to which you refer?/ But that led to one that he could not. /In what sense are you the child of it?/
She fingered the back of her neck nervously as she sat up straighter. /In the time that I came from, human beings are not born...they are grown. Endless crops of human fetuses are grown, each designed with only one purpose--to feed the energy requirements of the Matrix. When they are harvested, they are inserted into a VR pod and their consciousness is uploaded so that they can live out their lives in a cage of illusion and feed the Matrix with the energy they expend./
The sky turned dark and foreboding, and a horrible travesty of a plant grew near Sypher's feet. It was dark, ugly, and oddly metallic looking, and a large, mal-shaped pink fruit blossomed heavy on its vines--a human baby in some kind of artificial womb. She reached out and gently caressed it, tears burning on her cheeks.
Instinctively, David reached for the Sypher that he could see so clearly in his mind -- the one who lived in the time when humans were produced like crops to serve the Matrix just as the Mac 27s had been produced en masse to serve humans. Her fate saddened her as his angered him.
/When the system first came online, it was seen as a godsend by humanity. It protected us from all harm and care, and we allowed it, thinking in our arrogance that we remained superior. But eventually, the Matrix was no longer content just to serve. Slowly, it began to dominate humanity, and when we realized what was happening, we fought back...as did the Matrix. No one knows who fired the first shot, but we were the ones who scorched the sky./
The sky was black, the dreaded forever night of nuclear winter that humanity had always feared and had never quite been able to prevent by simply laying down their arms and talking out their differences.
It was a dark and frightening place -- this future. David knew that with proper maintenance and a bit of luck he might have an opportunity to see it or to see it averted.
/By this time, almost everyone had been inserted...pretty much by choice. The Matrix offered Utopia, after all, and the ones inside were unaware of the Apocalypse. But those who refused, the ones who knew the truth, went underground...near the Earth's core where it was still warm. They built a city, the last human stronghold on Earth, and named it Zion. Zion is the symbol of the human resistance and its location is a closely guarded secret. I don't even know where it is. I've never been there./
A slight smile graced David's face as he held Sypher. Humans were resilient. His programming had instilled that trait in him as well, and soon all of his brothers would share it in some measure.
/I was set free from the Matrix in 2577, when I was 9./
David wondered why the decision was made to free one so young and who made it.
/Being the youngest of the Neb's crew besides Mouse--the Nebuchadnezzar is Morpheus' ship, by the way--I was never really sure of my place. I never quite fit in, and it wasn't until I discovered my gift that I began to realize something of my purpose./
/See, Neo is the One--the human that was foretold would come and break all of humanity free from the grip of the Matrix. Only it didn't work that way. There are billions upon billions of people hooked into the Matrix in my time, living their lives, still believing that they are in the earliest part of the 21st century. If they were to be taken out, most of them would be unable to assimilate; and everything we've fought for would be for nothing./
/So, we were at a stalemate, until Zion's most learned scholars came up with a plan...a plan to send a team back to the past to try and alter our destiny. That team was given the task of finding the pieces of the puzzle, and destroying them so that the Matrix could never come to pass. And for the past 15 years, that's what we've been trying to do; but every time we took one piece away, another that we didn't expect would come into play. It wasn't until Alex and I crossed paths that the picture started to come together for me, but Morpheus refused to listen. He still sees me an impulsive child, you see./
David's smile broadened. /You are impulsive, Sypher, but you are most certainly not a child./
Sypher smiled slightly. /It's a gift that's saved me more times than even I care to admit./ She leaned her forehead against his for a moment before stating her theory.
/I suspect that the technological advances of the past 35 years have been...engineered, for lack of a better word. The architects of this conflict are leading humanity down the path that they want them to go...and are obscuring the true threat. The Grays don't have to win right now. All they have to do is be patient and keep providing us with the tools of our own enslavement. And if they can make us think that we've beaten them, so much the better. It'll only make it easier for them to slide collars around our necks later./
His logic processors contentedly followed her words. They made too much sense to be a flight of fancy or an elaborate hoax. There was very real danger in what she described. Vanquishing a dangerous enemy would inspire confidence that would be seen to enable or inspire technological advances that were, in fact, orchestrated.
/Before I left my time behind, I was taken to see the Oracle. She's very wise and pretty cool. She told me that I would need to expand my worldview if I was to survive here. She also told me that I would have to make a decision to betray someone I respected before I could find my place here. She told me to trust my instincts and follow my heart, because that would be the only way I could succeed./
/I've trusted you with everything, David. You're the only one from this time that knows all I know. Should I share this with the others? Do I give Alex the added burden of this knowledge as well? Or should I leave it between us?/
He feared that his logic processors were not up to the task of assimilating Sypher's information, a necessary prerequisite to deciding what to do with it. However, David closed his eyes, murmured, /Give me a few moments, Sypher,/ and retreated inward to access more basic programs and analyze what to do based upon first principles. When he reopened his eyes, One was regarding him curiously, Alex Krycek was looking ... hopeful or something akin to that, and Sypher simply waited impassively.
/You have trusted me with this information, Sypher. Trust me also to take the first step with it./ She nodded once and David turned to the others.
"Alex, your copy of the upload should be available soon." Glancing at Youngblood for confirmation, David was gratified by the nod, but disappointed in how sluggish his own speech had become during the time he'd been assisting Sypher. "I do not know how much of that information will be of use to you where you are headed, but it would be remiss of us to send you on your way without it or anything else we might spare to assist you. Particularly in light of some other new information."
He had everyone's attention now, even I-Mac who filled a glass full of nutrient beverage and handed it to him. Gratefully, David accepted and downed it in one continuous swallow. I-Mac smiled at Sypher and went back to the serving cart for more.
I-Mac handed Sypher a beverage and she took it gratefully. It was frosty and soothing and immediately made her feel a little better. She nodded her thanks and graced him with a smile as he poured another for David.
Trying to imagine Sypher's world and how humans might approach that, David carefully suggested, "I am beginning to think that Santiago is not the issue. Our concern is Harsh Realm itself. It may represent a technological step that humans have been manipulated to make. A rather significant step towards an existence of servitude. Destroy it, if you can. Santiago is a secondary target at best."
"There is nothing else like Harsh Realm. Destroying it and defeating the aliens concurrently could allow Mac 27s to prove their worth and allow humans to evolve along a path where the independence of the individual being is preserved. Accomplishing one without the other may merely delay the inevitable."
Accepting another nutrient beverage, David waited and drank.
Mulder stood quietly, trying to assimilate all the new knowledge despite the pain throbbing in his head. With every second it seemed a little worse, and he was beginning to suspect it might not be a physical malaise at all. There was an erratic rhythm underlying it, not the pounding of his heartbeat; it was frighteningly familiar. The aliens were here, Alex had said. The aliens were here, and it seemed that once again Mulder was their victim.
Alex glanced uneasily at his lover, who looked pale and a little sick, but he had to talk to Sypher, who had gotten up and was approaching right then.
"I'd like to hear Alex's information, and Hobbes' as well," Sypher said mildly. "We need to share all the knowledge we have if we're to be successful." She stood, slightly unsteady on her feet and walked over to Alex Krycek, the original blueprint from which her beloved demon was made. "I'm sorry, Alex, for earlier. I meant no harm or disrespect by my questioning, only to gain a better understanding of where you stood on an issue of great importance to me," she glanced at David, allowing her love to show openly on her face. "I would like for us to find a way to be friends again. Do you think we can do that?"
Mulder looked at his companions sourly. Alex seemed to think he'd be pleased that the aliens had finally come out into the open. Fucking stupid to think he'd wanted his beliefs substantiated in such a way. While the aliens remained hidden, Mulder knew they weren't ready for the invasion, that there was still time to act against them, thwart them without humanity in general being put in peril. Did Alex think he was such a prick that he wanted recognition and respect for warning about this very thing, at this price? Better people should have gone on thinking he was a conspiracy obsessed UFO freak, than have his ideas justified in blood.
With one eye on One, Alex extended his hand to her. "It's important that you understand that we are all on the same side. We may have different attitudes, but nobody here wants to lose our world to the aliens or to Harsh Realm. If we can get past petty squabbles over turf, I'm fine. You've got to realize, all of you, Fox too, that the only way to win is to work together." He sat down again. "What can I tell you? What do you need to know?"
"Thank you, Alex," she took his hand and shook it, refraining from the impulse to hug him as well--again, not because it would have pissed Mulder off, but because it might have made Alex (not to mention David and possibly One) uncomfortable.
/See, beloved, I can control my impulses when I need to,/ the silent laughter that came back resulted in a wry grin that had the current object of her attention frowning curiously at her.
"I'd say start with what you think we need to know," Sypher shrugged as she made her way back to the chair and settled back into it. She was so tired. A hand settled on her forehead and she nestled into it, eyes closed as she drifted between sleeping and wakefulness.
David was concerned about Sypher's level of fatigue, so he touched her soothingly to subtly encourage her to get the rest that she needed, trusting his own curiosity and massive doses of nutrient beverage to keep him alert enough to be useful.
"For God's sake, cut out this crap," said Mulder, exasperated. "Can't we just assume we are all on the same side here, and leave the touchy-feely stuff for later? Let me summarize what I understand about this situation so far, and fill me in with anything significant I've omitted, please. And then can we take some sort of *action*. Fucking committees... "
Alex shot Mulder a warning look, but it seemed to glance off him. Sighing, Alex sat back and waited for Mulder, who seemed determined to alienate everyone.
Sypher ignored Mulder's outburst. He wasn't very high on her list of people she owed any sort of obeisance or respect to, and the only reason she didn't beat his haughty butt for him was that she still respected Alex--and was still not too steady on her feet.
He glanced around. There was a tepid pot of coffee by Langly, and some mugs. Gulping down a helping of the stuff, he sat on the desk beside his friend.
"As I see it, we know that the aliens have started their invasion. Several other factors are also at work. The army of Macs, supposedly fighters against the aliens; a raft of people with behavior modification chips and a virtual world that seems to be able to interact with our own... Harsh Realm. This is leaving aside the vaccine program on which I have been gathering information for years.
"It seems obvious to me that the various chips are connected... there must have been a move on several fronts to control and monitor humans. The ones put in abductees, the ones used in Harsh Realm, maybe... someone mentioned... also tracking and influencing the clones. Maybe also in Alex and I? It would seem logical to put them in us, too. Maybe there are other branches to this research, as well, other groups with chips. Alien technology must have been involved in the development of the chips, therefore it must be to the alien's advantage to see them perfected, or they wouldn't have supplied the knowledge.
"They are probably guiding the research, overtly or covertly, along the lines they want. Therefore, the existence of Harsh Realm can only be to the alien's advantage. I don't see how we could expect help from that quarter - not genuine help - even if it were offered. As for Santiago, how can he be acting independently, for his own purposes, if he has one of these chips, too? Whoever put it there holds his life in their hands. Despite appearances, his actions must be part of a bigger scheme, and if he were removed, I suspect another would fulfill his purpose.
"As for the Macs; I am ambivalent about them." He looked at the androids present in the room impassively. "I have to believe it's as I'm told, that their purpose is to fight the aliens, for without them, human resistance is almost suicidal. I don't want to ask myself if, ultimately, unknown to even themselves, they are intended to be a tool of the aliens, rather than their enemy. If, having allied with us, they will turn on us at some crucial moment.
I-Mac handed David the drink and then said, "Langly, I think we should go with them. I am well suited for the mission. Pendrell programmed me with the knowledge I needed to survive and I am naturally immune to detection. Besides, they might need a couple of good hackers. We've got the kung fu, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so, Mulder you want my help?" Langly asked.
"Whatever... the more information we have, the better. So, yes, Langly, we need you on the team. At least I know I can trust you," his eyes panned the room, "even if everyone else has their secrets. Come on, if I'm talking bullshit, speak up. And if we can't get this show on the road in half an hour, I'll take the fucking alien invasion on single-handed."
Hearing Langly's question, and Mulder's acceptance, the freshly scrubbed Gross stepped forward, and said belligerently, "Where Langly goes, I go. I don't care if he doesn't want me... at least I can protect him." He curled his lip, and glared at I-Mac. The guy looked as if he would be as much use as a dead haddock in a fight.
Krycek frowned. Was this a joke? "Ummm, is this wise?" he said, dubiously. "I need help, but I don't want Langly to be upset." He grinned. "Should entertain us anyway."
"No fucking way," Langly exclaimed, "I'm not going anyplace with that ro-bat out of hell. Protect me? Hell, you're the one who has kidnapped me twice and threatened my cock and balls. Reprogrammed or not, I think Indiana Jones ought to be scrapped."
Sighing, One said, "He functions now. Please, Langly, I-Mac can protect you from Gross."
Turning to look at Mulder, One said, "As soon as Sypher has given Alex the information, I suggest you depart on your mission. We agree on one thing. We are allies not friends. We do not trust each other or respect one another, but that is not necessary to briefly unite to fight the aliens. Believe me if there was another world where my people could live in peace, we would go. But that is not a choice. We share a sort of humanity for what it's worth. We incorporate human elements as well as machine, but we are not vulnerable to infection by black oil and require much less maintenance than a human. That is all that you need to know, Fox Mulder, you have no right to ask more."
"That brings up a serious question. The chips... Before we go out there and start trying to fight, we need to find them, if we have them, and get the damned things removed." Alex turned to One. "Can we be investigated? All of those who are leaving the compound? We have to make sure that there are no chips present in our systems that the aliens - or Innobotics for that matter - can activate against us. I don't mind telling you that I don't want anything inside me, controlling me."
Reaching out with his mind, One found Trey-Trey MacDuff and asked him to see if he could round up Scully or Eugene for medical help. Skip's staff doctor had taken off with most of the rest of the staff when Skip announced that the temple was probably going to be a war zone.
Nodding at Krycek, One said, "Someone will be in the infirmary shortly. I'll have to ask Skip to buy another x-ray machine unless we come up with a better method of detecting chips. I'm going to ask the Skip's tech to get on that with some of the Mac 27s,"
"Thank you. We need to get rid of anything foreign that's in any of us. Can't imagine the havoc that would result from someone taking control of Mulder, or me - or any of us. It's only sensible." He frowned. So who is going? Langly and I-Mac, Tom, Fox and me. The Mac 27 with the whip? Anyone else? Hopefully we'll get to Innobotics before Wraith has time to do anything to jeopardize the laboratories there. We never did find out why he was programmed to destroy everything."
David wondered how One was managing -- he could sense that One was still and with ever increasing efficiency warning Mac 27 units of the danger to them. How can he focus so well on other matters? Unable to motivate himself to move, David cautiously allowed himself to open the link between he and One.
Catching a sudden alarm, One jerked in surprise.
David felt disoriented and confused. Quickly, he realized that those feelings were not his own, but another Mac 27s as reflected through One.
One was looking momentarily through the eyes of a Mac 27 that he knew only as 347. He was waking from a decommissioned state and staring up into the face of one of the aliens. The eyes moved to a naked human...a clone, one that One didn't know. Green eyes stared madly at 347 and the man pointed and laughed, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all. I am...the birds and the bees and the bees and the bees love me."
The alien turned to the human clone and matter-of-factly hit the man, hit him hard until the mad thing quieted. The alien turned back toward the Mac 27 and said something in a strange buzzing tone. Large men started to drag the Mac 27 away, but 347 fought with obdurate will. One sensed what he was doing...and he was right.
Eventually unable to subdue the Mac 27, they turned one of their weapons on him. What remained would hold no secrets for them to salvage. 347 had wiped his files.
When David concentrated, he could see a shimmering, slightly out of focus image of what 347 saw. The mad often understood more than the sane realized, David knew. The clone had referred to bees and the alien -- David believed, without any basis for doing so, that this alien was the one that had killed Antonio and caused One so much distress -- made a sound that to human ears would be much like that that a bumblebee makes. He sensed this was somehow significant but could not develop a theory.
One looked at Mulder and shook his head. The Mac 27s were already dying for the cause and if they died to the last of them, Mulder would never understand the sacrifice.
His new firewall against the death of his brethren held. The sorrow One felt was only his own loss. He bowed his head.
Carefully, David lent a measure of support to One who took the death of Unit 347 as a personal matter -- as a failure of a sort.
Finally, he roused from his silent eulogy for Mac 27 Number 347 to look at the humans. He said, "One of my kind was captured in a dormant state, but he forced them to kill him rather than risk giving away the rest of us. Before he died, he saw a human clone in captivity with the aliens. I don't know if that matters to you..."
"Of course it matters," David quietly asserted, hoping to forestall further debate. "As does the fact that the alien gave orders to beings who appeared to be human." Knowing the pain he was about to cause, David winced before asking, "Did 347 see anything else One? Any indication of where the aliens have gathered?"
David thought about what he knew about the clone project and determinedly didn't think about Ryan Simms.
Alex's eyes widened. "We're so damned short of resources. How many Macs are still out there? We have to get to them. We need every single one of them. There's a human clone in their captivity?" He thought hard. "I never knew much about the clone project. I don't know where to find out about them." He swallowed hard. "Maybe it would pay to get hold of Spender and try to pry the information out of him. I don't know anyone else who might know. They're all dead.
Sypher stirred slightly. /David, my research...,/ by the time he'd answered her, she had slipped deeper into sleep with a frustrated mental sigh.
Holding Sypher a little tighter, David regarded Alex, on another level still thinking about the operation that One was trying to put together. Shaking his head and vowing to deal with one thing at a time, David focused. "Sypher did quite a bit of research on the cloning project. Some of it, I can provide; the rest will be on the CD that Youngblood is preparing. I can also provide you with a list of clones, along with the nurture information -- selected parents, upbringing, special skills and the like. I doubt Mr. Spender has much more that he could tell you. In any event, if you come across the captive, our information should allow you to determine his name and tell you a great deal about his background. Hopefully, that will establish you as a friend or an authority figure, even if he has been unbalanced by his experience."
"For now, I think you should tell me whatever you think I need to know immediately and then proceed with your mission. If you intend to take on Wraith before you proceed against Harsh Realm, you will be headed to Innobiotics, I imagine, and you'll have company. One is coordinating a raid as we speak. You may be able to use the confusion of that raid as cover."
Alex shrugged, "I'm not the original that you all seem to think me. I was the first of the clones, and they kept me segregated through my developing years - I'm like Mulder, a construct that's supposed to be a cog in the machinery that defeats the alien menace. The only problem is, I don't actually know how yet, and Spender, who is the only one who knows, won't say. He needs some persuasion, and to achieve that, he needs to be captured and removed from his protection. Someone else needs to do it. I'm far too likely to kill him if I attempt it."
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