Walking Wounded 9/?
Title: Walking Wounded 9/?
Author: miashay
Characters: Season 2 Dark Angel cast
Ratings/Warnings: R overall for violent imagery and sensitive topics
Word Count: 2608
Summary: Lydecker explains Alec's violent reactions, Max gets involved.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Debrief
Max stayed with Original Cindy in the infirmary until mid-afternoon. They caught up on the past two weeks of their lives, discussed the negotiations with the government (“Like trying to cuddle a python, lots of hissing and squirming”), and Cindy’s newest honey (a redhead named Sharlotte; “sharp as a tack, with legs for days”). They talked about Logan (“I hear one ‘we’re not like that’ slip past that tongue, and you’ll be wishing you never left Manticore”) and Lydecker (“You sure that man’s not part cat, cause he’s got nine lives, at least”), but avoided any more discussion about Alec.
OC was just catching her up on the crew at Jampony, when Doctor Shankar stepped into the room, looking harassed. She began filling a small bag with first aid supplies, including an ice pack, suture kit, ace bandage and sling. Max glanced at OC, still tender and aching from Alec’s rough handling, and tried to swallow down her sense of foreboding.
“What’s up, doc?” she asked warily.
“Alec woke up again,” the doctor replied while she worked, “Apparently, there were some difficulties.”
“Lydecker?” Cindy asked from her stretcher.
Doctor Shankar bit out a ‘yes’, zipped up the bag, and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Max called to her before she could step into the hall, “what happened exactly?”
“I’m not sure, Max. Alec was the only one injured, and Mole’s certain that he broke something. Probably looking at another head injury, as well.”
“Where are they? Lydecker and Mole?”
“Headed for command, last I heard. I’m surprised I didn’t pass them on the way here.”
The doctor took one last perfunctory look at her patient’s head and wrist, and was gone. Original Cindy waited no more than thirty seconds before coughing pointedly in Max’s direction, and motioning for the door.
“Well, get a move on.”
“OC,” Max started. Cindy narrowed her eyes, and gave a firm shake of her head.
“Nuh uh. Social hour is over, boo. Now you buzz outta here, and find out about our boy,” she ordered. Max bit down on a smile, before giving OC a concerned once over.
“I can wait till Shankar gets back,” she offered, “or get Luke down here, or Joshua.”
“Luke’s out hunting for Dalton, Joshua’s at the mess hall, and Original Cindy can damn well look after herself,” Cindy replied, “You’ve been hiding from this Alec situation for too long. You gotta step up and show these transgenics why you’re the big boss lady around here.”
“What if I can’t?” Max asked, “What if I’m not cut out for this.”
“You gotta stop trying to talk yourself outta this,” Cindy admonished, “You and Mole got that whole joint-leadership dealio all dialed in, and you got a whole slew of people ready to back you up. Just try to curb those ass kicking tendencies of yours, and you’ll do just fine.”
“No ass kicking?”
“Anybody gives you trouble, you just remember all those stress relief exercises Herbal taught us.”
Max smiled at the reminder of her old friend, “I’m not sure lighting up in our command center is the best way to assert my authority.”
“Max Guevara, did you just make a joke at me? Here I thought you’d lost your sense of humor, hanging out with all those bureaucrats,” OC smiled at her kindly, and waved her good arm at toward the door, “Now you best go and snap those boys into line.”
Max reached forward to squeeze her friend’s shoulder, made promises to come check on her soon, and headed out.
------------------------------------------
She arrived at Command in time to see Mole and Luke arguing, flanked by Agent Gottlieb and Logan on one side, and Colonel Lydecker and Dix on the other. She counted roughly ten transgenics eavesdropping from various places around the room, along with Sketchy and Melissa Bycroft, who were watching the men curiously from behind their section of the room, which had been cordoned off for interviews.
Max took a deep breath, counted to ten, and kept walking. She sidestepped the small group, and headed toward the room they had designated for conferences and brainstorming sessions. She propped open the door, checked to confirm the room was empty, turned back toward the fighting men, and whistled harshly in their direction.
Eighteen heads spun to look at her; Max simply turned again, entered the room, and sat down. Six sets of feet soon followed. Once everyone was inside, she motioned for Mole to shut the door, and counted to ten again.
“There’s a reason we have this room,” she finally spoke, “who can tell me?”
The men exchanged sheepish glances, but didn’t bother to answer. Even Lydecker, whose neck was decorated with a suspicious ring of mottled bruises, looked chagrined. Max took another deep breath.
“We have it so that every transgenic, every reporter within hearing distance can’t listen in on every conversation we have. If we didn’t plan on using it, then we shouldn’t have spent so much time making it soundproof. Now, what’s got you two all up in arms five feet from two of Seattle’s most determined journalists?” she asked, fixing her glare on Luke and Mole, in turn.
“The Colonel here has got a theory about Alec’s little freak outs,” Mole answered.
Max shook her head, confused. “Well, that seems like a good thing. Why…”
“He wants to share privileged information, information that wasn’t even in Alec’s file, and just…he wants to just tell…like they’re not Alec’s secrets,” Luke interrupted, stuttering as he spoke, “It’s not right. Alec wouldn’t want it.”
The anomaly slumped in his chair. Max took note of the defeated look on his face. She counted to ten, took a few breaths, and counted once more.
“Luke,” she addressed him directly, “if Lydecker knows something we can use, we need to know it. I’m all for privacy, but Alec needs help.”
“I know,” he replied, and stood, “and I understand, Max, but I can’t be a part of it.”
With that Luke walked out, leaving the room’s six remaining occupants shifting in their seats.
“Things didn’t go well with Dalton,” Dix said once the door was shut, “he just needs some time.”
Max closed her eyes, and turned to Lydecker.
“Is this the only way to help him?” she asked.
“I can’t to tell you that, Max,” he replied, “but it will help.”
Max pointed at Agent Gottlieb and Logan.
“Do they need to be here?”
“Can’t hurt.” Mole retorted.
The situation made Max uneasy. She tried to imagine the five men watching her intently from across the table, human and transgenic alike, pouring over her history at Manticore. The thought made her shudder. Logan must have caught the involuntary reaction, as he whispered her name, and nodded encouragingly. Max sent him a smile of thanks, and gestured for Mole to continue.
“Our buddy Lydecker here seems to think the boy’s time in Psy Ops has got something to do with these fits he’s been having.”
“Right,” Lydecker agreed, “Max, are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Quit your hedging, Colonel,” Mole growled, “If the little lady doesn’t want to hear it, she’s more than welcome to leave. Now, Psy Ops.”
Max watched the two men, and was surprised to find a glint of respect in Lydecker’s eyes as he acknowledged Mole’s comments. She filed the look away, and centered all of her attention on the Colonel.
“You should know, 494 was always a bit of a special case.”
Mole cocked his head and asked, “Cause of the twin, er, clone thing?”
“Partially,” Lydecker answered, “494 was first taken to Psy Ops after the escape in ’09, for reindoctrination. He had some complications.”
“What kind of complications?” Agent Gottlieb asked.
He looked nervous and concerned, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and leaning forward in his chair. Max observed him from across the table with interest.
The revelation of Otto Gottlieb and Alec’s alliance on the day of White’s attack had surprised Max more than she wanted to admit. In truth, it was the trust and loyalty Alec had managed to inspire in the agent, in such a short span of time, that baffled her. It was a quality Max would have never attributed to the X5 before then. After spending the past month fielding questions about Alec’s welfare, from what seemed like every transgenic in Terminal City, she had been forced to open her eyes to the uncanny influence Alec had over people.
“He suffered a massive seizure during the procedure,” Lydecker responded, drawing Max back to the conversation at hand.
“During reindoctrination?” Dix asked, his voice frail.
“Yes. We had been aware of the seizures for quite some time by then, and were trying to find a solution. We’d already had several of our X5s die from them, your brother, for one,” he said, motioning to Max.
She nodded dumbly, still trying to comprehend the horror Alec must have felt, showing that kind of weakness in front of Lydecker and a room full of Manticore scientists. Thankfully, Lydecker seemed to understand and kept talking.
“The seizures were getting worse, and something needed to be done.”
“What did you do to him?” Mole asked, noticeably struggling to keep his anger in check.
“We needed a live subject so, for six months, we had one.”
“Jesus,” Logan said softly, “six months of experimentation? On a child?”
Lydecker was opening his mouth to reply, when Dix stood abruptly.
“Luke was right. We shouldn’t be hearing this,” the transhuman stated. He stepped away from the group and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. No one else moved.
“What happened next?” Max prompted.
“Nothing,” the Colonel replied, acknowledging the return to the subject at hand, “When the research was finished, he went back to training. It wasn’t until afterwards that we began to notice small changes in his attitude; flippancy toward authority, hesitancy to submit to orders, particularly ones that called for excessive or deadly force. He seemed…more aware.”
“Aware?”
“He was never insubordinate, but he drew a fine line.”
“How about we get back to Psy Ops,” Mole directed.
“Where the other twins successfully completed reindoctrination and simplification, our efforts with 494 failed. Incidentally, this failure led to his next significant trip to Psy Ops.”
“After the Berrisford mission,” Logan supplied. Max noticed Agent Gottlieb nodding in understanding, and wondered when the man had been filled in on the specifics of that part of Alec’s life.
“Because of his reaction to our previous attempts, we were hesitant to try again.”
“Afraid of triggering another seizure, were you? You wanna tell me you didn’t try anyway?” Mole questioned, edging forward in his chair.
“We did. He didn’t have a seizure, but he didn’t react well, either,” Lydecker answered through pursed lips, “He went completely catatonic; we almost had to put him down.”
“Catatonic like he’s been for the last month?”
“Worse.”
“Were you ever planning on telling us all this, or were you just going to wait it out?” Logan asked, voice curious.
“You heard Luke and Dix,” Mole replied, “the boy wouldn’t want us poking around in his past if there were any other options. Wait and see’s a good a plan as any. What happened next?”
“He woke up eventually, claimed to have no memory of anything after being given Berrisford. Kid asked if he still needed to complete his assignment. But the higher ups weren’t happy, recommended him for euthanization. It was Sandoval, in the end, who suggested an alternate form of treatment.”
“What kind of treatment?”
Lydecker sighed, “494 was a risk, a disobedient soldier. He needed motivation to follow orders, so we provided it.”
“What kind of treatment?” Mole asked for a second time, rising from his chair. He leaned forward on the table and growled menacingly, “What did you people put him through?”
“Manticore had a group of transgenics specifically bred for work in Psy Ops,” Lydecker replied blandly.
“Like Mia,” Max recalled the slightly unsettling transgenic, “We ran into her a couple of months ago; she used telecoercion.”
“We needed 494 to believe there would be consequences for his disobedience outside of himself. One of our operatives specialized in hypnosis, and was particularly adept at implanting memories and images.”
Mole sprang across the table, grabbed for Lydecker’s collar, and pulled the man forward.
“His unit isn’t dead, are they?” the transhuman snarled, “You put fake memories of his entire unit dying to keep him in line.”
“They were going to kill him,” Lydecker gasped, as he pushed Mole away, “We were going to kill him. Steps had to be taken. Anyway, the unit was…494 hasn’t been a part of a regular unit since the escape in ‘09.”
Max widened her eyes and stood to her feet, but remained silent.
“So who were they about,” Logan asked, “the memories?”
“No one. 494’s memories of his unit were as fabricated as their ‘deaths’.”
“That’s supposed to be better? You make up some dead trannies, damn well traumatize the boy,” Mole shook his head, and fell back into his seat, “and they put you in there too, didn’t they? That’s why he’s so eager to take you down. You’re swimming around in there, along with Sandoval, and Alec’s fake, dead unit. Oh yeah, and the blood. Don’t forget the goddamn blood.”
Lydecker nodded and sat back down. Max swayed on her feet and quickly took in the reactions of the two ordinaries in the room. Agent Gottlieb looked pale and slightly green around the edges, while Logan had fallen forward, and was holding his head in his hands.
“But Biggs. They were always talking about missions and…” Max stuttered off, confused.
“494 was a Specialist,” Lydecker said, “brought in when he was needed. He didn’t have a regular unit, but would be assigned a temporary one on missions, and whenever he was back at Manticore for training or evaluation. Never for longer than a few months at a time, and rarely the same one twice.”
Mole let out a loud, bitter laugh, causing Logan’s head to jerk up in surprise.
“Bet that pissed you off, huh, Colonel. All that trouble you went through to keep him from softening up, forming ‘human relationships’, and the boy turns out to be some goddamn social butterfly.”
“Like I said,” Lydecker replied, smiling slightly, “494 always was a special case. Even the guards were…fond of him. We had to modify the rotation whenever he was home.”
“He was selling them his supplements,” Max said, eager to prolong the abrupt change of atmosphere in the small room, “had some kind of racket going on.”
“That sounds like Alec,” Logan agreed.
He seemed steadier, and Max noticed the agent was quickly regaining his color. Mole had relaxed back in his seat, looking pensive, but no longer angry, while Lydecker looked thoughtful and sad, of all things. Max waited several minutes before breaking the quiet.
“How do we help him?” she asked.
“We can’t,” Lydecker responded, “but I think I know someone who can.”
Next
Author: miashay
Characters: Season 2 Dark Angel cast
Ratings/Warnings: R overall for violent imagery and sensitive topics
Word Count: 2608
Summary: Lydecker explains Alec's violent reactions, Max gets involved.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Debrief
Max stayed with Original Cindy in the infirmary until mid-afternoon. They caught up on the past two weeks of their lives, discussed the negotiations with the government (“Like trying to cuddle a python, lots of hissing and squirming”), and Cindy’s newest honey (a redhead named Sharlotte; “sharp as a tack, with legs for days”). They talked about Logan (“I hear one ‘we’re not like that’ slip past that tongue, and you’ll be wishing you never left Manticore”) and Lydecker (“You sure that man’s not part cat, cause he’s got nine lives, at least”), but avoided any more discussion about Alec.
OC was just catching her up on the crew at Jampony, when Doctor Shankar stepped into the room, looking harassed. She began filling a small bag with first aid supplies, including an ice pack, suture kit, ace bandage and sling. Max glanced at OC, still tender and aching from Alec’s rough handling, and tried to swallow down her sense of foreboding.
“What’s up, doc?” she asked warily.
“Alec woke up again,” the doctor replied while she worked, “Apparently, there were some difficulties.”
“Lydecker?” Cindy asked from her stretcher.
Doctor Shankar bit out a ‘yes’, zipped up the bag, and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Max called to her before she could step into the hall, “what happened exactly?”
“I’m not sure, Max. Alec was the only one injured, and Mole’s certain that he broke something. Probably looking at another head injury, as well.”
“Where are they? Lydecker and Mole?”
“Headed for command, last I heard. I’m surprised I didn’t pass them on the way here.”
The doctor took one last perfunctory look at her patient’s head and wrist, and was gone. Original Cindy waited no more than thirty seconds before coughing pointedly in Max’s direction, and motioning for the door.
“Well, get a move on.”
“OC,” Max started. Cindy narrowed her eyes, and gave a firm shake of her head.
“Nuh uh. Social hour is over, boo. Now you buzz outta here, and find out about our boy,” she ordered. Max bit down on a smile, before giving OC a concerned once over.
“I can wait till Shankar gets back,” she offered, “or get Luke down here, or Joshua.”
“Luke’s out hunting for Dalton, Joshua’s at the mess hall, and Original Cindy can damn well look after herself,” Cindy replied, “You’ve been hiding from this Alec situation for too long. You gotta step up and show these transgenics why you’re the big boss lady around here.”
“What if I can’t?” Max asked, “What if I’m not cut out for this.”
“You gotta stop trying to talk yourself outta this,” Cindy admonished, “You and Mole got that whole joint-leadership dealio all dialed in, and you got a whole slew of people ready to back you up. Just try to curb those ass kicking tendencies of yours, and you’ll do just fine.”
“No ass kicking?”
“Anybody gives you trouble, you just remember all those stress relief exercises Herbal taught us.”
Max smiled at the reminder of her old friend, “I’m not sure lighting up in our command center is the best way to assert my authority.”
“Max Guevara, did you just make a joke at me? Here I thought you’d lost your sense of humor, hanging out with all those bureaucrats,” OC smiled at her kindly, and waved her good arm at toward the door, “Now you best go and snap those boys into line.”
Max reached forward to squeeze her friend’s shoulder, made promises to come check on her soon, and headed out.
------------------------------------------
She arrived at Command in time to see Mole and Luke arguing, flanked by Agent Gottlieb and Logan on one side, and Colonel Lydecker and Dix on the other. She counted roughly ten transgenics eavesdropping from various places around the room, along with Sketchy and Melissa Bycroft, who were watching the men curiously from behind their section of the room, which had been cordoned off for interviews.
Max took a deep breath, counted to ten, and kept walking. She sidestepped the small group, and headed toward the room they had designated for conferences and brainstorming sessions. She propped open the door, checked to confirm the room was empty, turned back toward the fighting men, and whistled harshly in their direction.
Eighteen heads spun to look at her; Max simply turned again, entered the room, and sat down. Six sets of feet soon followed. Once everyone was inside, she motioned for Mole to shut the door, and counted to ten again.
“There’s a reason we have this room,” she finally spoke, “who can tell me?”
The men exchanged sheepish glances, but didn’t bother to answer. Even Lydecker, whose neck was decorated with a suspicious ring of mottled bruises, looked chagrined. Max took another deep breath.
“We have it so that every transgenic, every reporter within hearing distance can’t listen in on every conversation we have. If we didn’t plan on using it, then we shouldn’t have spent so much time making it soundproof. Now, what’s got you two all up in arms five feet from two of Seattle’s most determined journalists?” she asked, fixing her glare on Luke and Mole, in turn.
“The Colonel here has got a theory about Alec’s little freak outs,” Mole answered.
Max shook her head, confused. “Well, that seems like a good thing. Why…”
“He wants to share privileged information, information that wasn’t even in Alec’s file, and just…he wants to just tell…like they’re not Alec’s secrets,” Luke interrupted, stuttering as he spoke, “It’s not right. Alec wouldn’t want it.”
The anomaly slumped in his chair. Max took note of the defeated look on his face. She counted to ten, took a few breaths, and counted once more.
“Luke,” she addressed him directly, “if Lydecker knows something we can use, we need to know it. I’m all for privacy, but Alec needs help.”
“I know,” he replied, and stood, “and I understand, Max, but I can’t be a part of it.”
With that Luke walked out, leaving the room’s six remaining occupants shifting in their seats.
“Things didn’t go well with Dalton,” Dix said once the door was shut, “he just needs some time.”
Max closed her eyes, and turned to Lydecker.
“Is this the only way to help him?” she asked.
“I can’t to tell you that, Max,” he replied, “but it will help.”
Max pointed at Agent Gottlieb and Logan.
“Do they need to be here?”
“Can’t hurt.” Mole retorted.
The situation made Max uneasy. She tried to imagine the five men watching her intently from across the table, human and transgenic alike, pouring over her history at Manticore. The thought made her shudder. Logan must have caught the involuntary reaction, as he whispered her name, and nodded encouragingly. Max sent him a smile of thanks, and gestured for Mole to continue.
“Our buddy Lydecker here seems to think the boy’s time in Psy Ops has got something to do with these fits he’s been having.”
“Right,” Lydecker agreed, “Max, are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Quit your hedging, Colonel,” Mole growled, “If the little lady doesn’t want to hear it, she’s more than welcome to leave. Now, Psy Ops.”
Max watched the two men, and was surprised to find a glint of respect in Lydecker’s eyes as he acknowledged Mole’s comments. She filed the look away, and centered all of her attention on the Colonel.
“You should know, 494 was always a bit of a special case.”
Mole cocked his head and asked, “Cause of the twin, er, clone thing?”
“Partially,” Lydecker answered, “494 was first taken to Psy Ops after the escape in ’09, for reindoctrination. He had some complications.”
“What kind of complications?” Agent Gottlieb asked.
He looked nervous and concerned, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and leaning forward in his chair. Max observed him from across the table with interest.
The revelation of Otto Gottlieb and Alec’s alliance on the day of White’s attack had surprised Max more than she wanted to admit. In truth, it was the trust and loyalty Alec had managed to inspire in the agent, in such a short span of time, that baffled her. It was a quality Max would have never attributed to the X5 before then. After spending the past month fielding questions about Alec’s welfare, from what seemed like every transgenic in Terminal City, she had been forced to open her eyes to the uncanny influence Alec had over people.
“He suffered a massive seizure during the procedure,” Lydecker responded, drawing Max back to the conversation at hand.
“During reindoctrination?” Dix asked, his voice frail.
“Yes. We had been aware of the seizures for quite some time by then, and were trying to find a solution. We’d already had several of our X5s die from them, your brother, for one,” he said, motioning to Max.
She nodded dumbly, still trying to comprehend the horror Alec must have felt, showing that kind of weakness in front of Lydecker and a room full of Manticore scientists. Thankfully, Lydecker seemed to understand and kept talking.
“The seizures were getting worse, and something needed to be done.”
“What did you do to him?” Mole asked, noticeably struggling to keep his anger in check.
“We needed a live subject so, for six months, we had one.”
“Jesus,” Logan said softly, “six months of experimentation? On a child?”
Lydecker was opening his mouth to reply, when Dix stood abruptly.
“Luke was right. We shouldn’t be hearing this,” the transhuman stated. He stepped away from the group and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. No one else moved.
“What happened next?” Max prompted.
“Nothing,” the Colonel replied, acknowledging the return to the subject at hand, “When the research was finished, he went back to training. It wasn’t until afterwards that we began to notice small changes in his attitude; flippancy toward authority, hesitancy to submit to orders, particularly ones that called for excessive or deadly force. He seemed…more aware.”
“Aware?”
“He was never insubordinate, but he drew a fine line.”
“How about we get back to Psy Ops,” Mole directed.
“Where the other twins successfully completed reindoctrination and simplification, our efforts with 494 failed. Incidentally, this failure led to his next significant trip to Psy Ops.”
“After the Berrisford mission,” Logan supplied. Max noticed Agent Gottlieb nodding in understanding, and wondered when the man had been filled in on the specifics of that part of Alec’s life.
“Because of his reaction to our previous attempts, we were hesitant to try again.”
“Afraid of triggering another seizure, were you? You wanna tell me you didn’t try anyway?” Mole questioned, edging forward in his chair.
“We did. He didn’t have a seizure, but he didn’t react well, either,” Lydecker answered through pursed lips, “He went completely catatonic; we almost had to put him down.”
“Catatonic like he’s been for the last month?”
“Worse.”
“Were you ever planning on telling us all this, or were you just going to wait it out?” Logan asked, voice curious.
“You heard Luke and Dix,” Mole replied, “the boy wouldn’t want us poking around in his past if there were any other options. Wait and see’s a good a plan as any. What happened next?”
“He woke up eventually, claimed to have no memory of anything after being given Berrisford. Kid asked if he still needed to complete his assignment. But the higher ups weren’t happy, recommended him for euthanization. It was Sandoval, in the end, who suggested an alternate form of treatment.”
“What kind of treatment?”
Lydecker sighed, “494 was a risk, a disobedient soldier. He needed motivation to follow orders, so we provided it.”
“What kind of treatment?” Mole asked for a second time, rising from his chair. He leaned forward on the table and growled menacingly, “What did you people put him through?”
“Manticore had a group of transgenics specifically bred for work in Psy Ops,” Lydecker replied blandly.
“Like Mia,” Max recalled the slightly unsettling transgenic, “We ran into her a couple of months ago; she used telecoercion.”
“We needed 494 to believe there would be consequences for his disobedience outside of himself. One of our operatives specialized in hypnosis, and was particularly adept at implanting memories and images.”
Mole sprang across the table, grabbed for Lydecker’s collar, and pulled the man forward.
“His unit isn’t dead, are they?” the transhuman snarled, “You put fake memories of his entire unit dying to keep him in line.”
“They were going to kill him,” Lydecker gasped, as he pushed Mole away, “We were going to kill him. Steps had to be taken. Anyway, the unit was…494 hasn’t been a part of a regular unit since the escape in ‘09.”
Max widened her eyes and stood to her feet, but remained silent.
“So who were they about,” Logan asked, “the memories?”
“No one. 494’s memories of his unit were as fabricated as their ‘deaths’.”
“That’s supposed to be better? You make up some dead trannies, damn well traumatize the boy,” Mole shook his head, and fell back into his seat, “and they put you in there too, didn’t they? That’s why he’s so eager to take you down. You’re swimming around in there, along with Sandoval, and Alec’s fake, dead unit. Oh yeah, and the blood. Don’t forget the goddamn blood.”
Lydecker nodded and sat back down. Max swayed on her feet and quickly took in the reactions of the two ordinaries in the room. Agent Gottlieb looked pale and slightly green around the edges, while Logan had fallen forward, and was holding his head in his hands.
“But Biggs. They were always talking about missions and…” Max stuttered off, confused.
“494 was a Specialist,” Lydecker said, “brought in when he was needed. He didn’t have a regular unit, but would be assigned a temporary one on missions, and whenever he was back at Manticore for training or evaluation. Never for longer than a few months at a time, and rarely the same one twice.”
Mole let out a loud, bitter laugh, causing Logan’s head to jerk up in surprise.
“Bet that pissed you off, huh, Colonel. All that trouble you went through to keep him from softening up, forming ‘human relationships’, and the boy turns out to be some goddamn social butterfly.”
“Like I said,” Lydecker replied, smiling slightly, “494 always was a special case. Even the guards were…fond of him. We had to modify the rotation whenever he was home.”
“He was selling them his supplements,” Max said, eager to prolong the abrupt change of atmosphere in the small room, “had some kind of racket going on.”
“That sounds like Alec,” Logan agreed.
He seemed steadier, and Max noticed the agent was quickly regaining his color. Mole had relaxed back in his seat, looking pensive, but no longer angry, while Lydecker looked thoughtful and sad, of all things. Max waited several minutes before breaking the quiet.
“How do we help him?” she asked.
“We can’t,” Lydecker responded, “but I think I know someone who can.”
Next