Mine

Christian

Christian had been fading in and out of consciousness all night, and was barely aware of anything happening when he was actually conscious.

The vertigo began to wear off after a few hours, but keeping his mind off the pain was something he'd have to work on.

Groaning as he came to again, he tried to push himself up.

Nope. Still strapped down.

Blakesley

"So, how are you feeling this morning?" Blakesley asked pleasantly.

"Let's see if you can talk or not. An unfortunate side effect that can sometimes occur in operations of this nature is loss of muscular control, especially of facial muscles...somewhat like a stroke."

Christian

Christian grunted a little, still trying to move.

"Congratulations for completing phase one of taking my life away from me," he hissed through his teeth as the pain suddenly rocketed through him again.

Blakesley

"I wonder how long it will take you to realise that the pain will be worse the longer you persist in that type of attitude," Blakesley observed.

"Of course, if you become amneable...things will look quite a bit better. Allow me to demonstrate. This is what you can expect if you disobey the programming of the chip now residing inside your cerebral cortex."

Blakesley pressed a button on a small remote, knowing the resulting pain from the chip firing would be extreme, beyond even what it had felt like to have him cut through to place it there in the first place.

"And this what you can expect if you become more...domesticated."

He pressed a different button, knowing the pleasure would be just as strong as the pain.

Christian

Christian had to cry out at the amount of pain that suddenly coarsed through him.

The second feeling he got - to him - was almost as bad. Just knowing where it was coming from.

Blakesley

"Well, should we take a small walk?" Blakesley asked with a twisted smile.

"I must say though I didn't much like my cousin...she did have some very nice toys."

Christian

"I hope she's rotting in hell, where you'll join her," Christian cursed.

He forced himself to open his eyes and look up and around.

Blakesley

"There is no hell."

Blakesley started to undo one of the straps around Christian's wrists.

"Death is...nothingness."

Christian

"Than what the f**k does Queenie and her entourage threaten everyone with?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, but soon opened them again.

Blakesley

"That, only works on people who believe in it. Otherwise, so I am informed, minds simply vanish."

Blakesley moved onto the other wrist, slim surgeon's fingers working quickly.

Christian

Christian leant on the one hand that was free, mostly in the hope of getting some feeling back into it.

"You can believe whatever you want for all I care," he said, before cringing at the pain of the stitches again.

Blakesley

"Ah yes, your sharp tongue shows itself again."

Blakesley moved onto one of Christian's ankles.

"Best make sure someone doesn't decide it looks better cut out of your mouth."

Christian

"Thanks for the warning," Christian said sarcastically with a wince.

"There was nothing sharp about that, I just said believe what you want. As it happens I have similar beliefs."

Blakelsey

Blakesley smiled slightly as he undid the final strap around Christian's middle and stood back. Almost hoping the alien would make the mistake of attacking him.

Christian

Christian rolled over onto his back and wrapped his left arm around his waist as he coughed for a moment.

"What do you want?" he demanded, eyes to the ceiling.

Blakesley

"To see how well this has worked," Blakesley said.

"What any scientist would want to know of an experiment."

Christian

Christian glanced at him, then returned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Great," he remarked dryly, "and if it hasn't?"

Blakesley

"Well, I could shoot you," Blakesley said.

"My father does want to eat you."

Christian

"So does Varian," Christian raised his eyebrows, closing his eyes.

"Something about my blood is seriously f**ked."

Blakesley

"Nothing to do with me, I assure you."

Blakesley smiled faintly.

"Now, let's see you walk."

Knowing that if Christian did not soon comply, a burst of electricity would go rocketing through his brain.

Christian

Christian's eyes opened again, before he managed to sit up.

"Don't even know if I can yet," he admitted, before beginning to feel another slight headache coming on.

His look turned to one of concentration, before his left hand flew to his forehead.

"S**T!" he exclaimed, before sliding from the table to the floor.

When he took few steps back toward the wall, the headache ceased.

"Holy s**t," he breathed, leaning back against it - still holding his head.

Blakesley

"Quite enterprising, isn't it?" Blakesley said.

"Of course, the original prototypes were tested on vampires. My cousin had such limited scope."

Christian

Christian looked up at him for a second, then returned his eyes to the table in front of him.

That had hurt. A lot. And it was too quick to control with his amount of experience yet.

Gulping only slightly, he leant his body back against the wall and slid to the ground.

"S**t."

Blakesley

"Shall we go?" Blakesley said pleasantly.

"I did wish to show you the training classes in session."

Christian

Christian stared at him for a moment, before he recieved the warning sign that another headache was on the way.

He put his hands against the wall and managed to push himself up.

"For what purpose, exactly?" one eye narrowed.

Blakesley

"To show you how effective the two pieces of technology buried in your skull are?" Blakesley said softly.

"Though I should take you to Kass to show you that. The clones have the chips inserted very soon after decantation, when the skull is still soft."

Christian

Christian looked toward the door for a moment, then back at Blakesley.

"So lead the way," he shrugged.

Blakesley

Blakesley inclined his head slightly and left the room, door open behind him.

"Do hurry along, Christian."

Christian

Christian sighed slightly and followed Blakesley through the door.

He wrapped the same arm around his bandaged hip area again and rubbed his other arm with that hand as he looked around curiously. These labs were pretty more advanced than the one that had been in Houston... the one that he and Christina had trashed.

Blakesley

"Morning," a pleasant faced man said as he passed Blakesley.

"New subject for the behavioural chips? Just noticing the shaven head."

"Yes, he is," Blakesley said.

"Useful things, those chips," the other man commented before moving on.

One of the N series clones swayed past, arms full of bloody clothes and a head, face serious and fixed as she concentrated on her duties. Soon enough, Blakesley stopped before a wall of one way glass. Faint child's voices could be heard behind it.

"We are soldiers. We do not feel pain. We do not feel fear. We are honoured to die under orders. The orders are good. We obey our orders, for we are soldiers. Those who do not, die. Those who are weak, die. We are not deserters or traiters. We are not cowards. We are not weak. We are soldiers..."

The group of about twenty five year old girls chanted in unison, heads shaven and wearing drab grey uniforms. Utmost sincerity in their voices.

Christian

Christian watched for a moment, before stepping back slightly.

"There's nothing special about that. It's called brainwashing," he concluded.

Blakesley

"They were decanted...two days ago," Blakesley said after reading one of the sheets of paper by the door.

One of the girls fell to the floor in convulsions and the others drew away from her, gasping in horror. The soldier standing at the front of the class moved forward, drew his AK47 and fired one shot through her skull.

"Nomaly..." the dreaded word whispered through the class as the small limp body was removed.

"And if any of us are to be found to be weak, we are to be destroyed. Immediately. Anomalies in the genetic code will not be tolerated," they picked up their lesson again.

Blood stain on the floor.

Christian

Christian held back a snort.

"Well you f**ked up one of them."

His eyes flew around the room, picking out the necessary features.

Blakesley

"Every run has a few...complications."

Blakesley smiled, watching his creations.

"I am working to fix them."

Christian

"What's the point behind this particular line of soldiers?" Christian looked confused.

"I mean once the Sentinels are finished you shouldn't need them."

Blakesley

"Well, the Sentinels are a strictly American project."

Blakesley watched the girls as they started to go through a series of martial arts exercises.

"These, however, are not."

Christian

Christian folded his arms and frowned slightly, regarding the clones.

"Ashtoreth's doing?" he asked finally.

Blakesley

"I was involved in this type of thing before she came along," Blakesley said.

"But she was far more willing to spend money to see it done properly."

Christian

Christian hesitated, then shrugged.

"So why are you still producting them? What's the point?"

Watching the girls train began to remind him of some his own earlier training...

Blakesley

"The ideal of perfection..."

Blakesley's eyes went distant.

"But ideals aside, can you imagine what men will pay for a perfectly trained soldier, who can also be used in subversive activities such as espionage and assassination? Let alone an army of them?"

Christian

"Ah," Christian nodded, a smile forming on his face.

"Military forces. Now I see where you're coming from. That's not a bad idea at all."

Blakesley

"Telepathic. Empathic. Magic resistant. Shape shifters."

Blakesley smiled.

"The original form was apparently more gifted."

Christian

"You don't really need much more than that for an army though," Christian shrugged with a sniff.

"Just gotta make sure you keep them trained right, and you'll be fine. How do you think you'll go with sustaining the numbers?"

Blakesley

"That would be more what I'm working on."

Blakesley glanced at Christian, looking mildly amused.

"Why? Planning on a purchase?"

Christian

Christian almost snorted.

"As if you'd be interested," he mused, his eyes on a couple of the girls.

And up sprang the unwanted memories from a much rather forgotten part of his childhood.

He stared at them for a moment, before shaking himself out of it.

"I'm not blind enough to think you'd let me have anything to do with this. This is your operation after all."

Blakesley

"Prove to me that there is more to be gained in setting you loose, then keeping you here, and I may consider it," Blakesley said softly.

The girls turned as one to the front and bowed.

"Our training will save us from our opponents. Use any means nessecary to survive to complete a mission. Do anything. Be anything. The orders are everything that is important."

Christian

Christian turned his head to face him and stared at him for a moment as if sizing him up. He looked to his feet, then to his face again, before returning his attention to the girls.

"I was almost a slave once," he said conversationally, seeming to change the subject.

"They considered me to be a soldier, but disregarded the idea when some asshole pointed out my mind was too developed for the rest of my body. When I got away from them, Craig promised I could be a soldier. I turned to him."

He rubbed his chin, scratching at the slight growth.

"I guess I've always been in the mindset. I grew up with kids like those. You'll lose a lot more than a few anomalies."

Blakesley

"None of the ones we've sent out into the world have defected," Blakesley said.

"Heavens, you've met one of them."

Christian

"They haven't defected as far as you know," Christian raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe you'd like to keep tighter surveillance on a few without their knowledge and see what you find."

Blakesley

"They can't."

Blakesley glanced at Christian.

"They can't ever get away. They can't run. After all, can you run from your own mind? I think not. Such thoughts are punished instantly. And if they ever took them to their natural conclusion and actually start thinking about it seriously...the chip would fire for a prolonged time and they would die screaming, bleeding from the nose, ears and mouth, while convulsing until their hearts seized up from the stress and they died from a heart attack."

The inference being, it could happen to Christian as well.

Christian

Christian shrugged.

"They might not venture from your strict orders, but I'm sure you give them enough leeway to sometimes do what they want."

He leant against the edge of the glass with one shoulder, his gaze not straying from the room. It was almost like looking into an old photo album. Almost, because the surroundings hadn't been a laboratory, and the subjects hadn't been clones.

"Doesn't matter anyway. They'll still get the job done."

Blakesley

"A small amount of leeway is allowable," Blakesley said.

"Outright dissension is another matter entirely. Come."

He turned and walked down the corridor.

Christian

"Could've guessed," Christian murmured.

He took one last look into the room as he stood up, then put his hands in his pockets as he began to follow Blakesley away again.

Blakesley

"One must content the plebs in some small manner. Or they become restless."

Blakesley pushed open another door and entered inside.

Kass looked ups sullenly, both heads swinging to regard Blakesley with hatred. The dog's upper lip lifted slightly.

"Herr Doktor. I vas vondering how long I vould be blessed with your absence."

He reached down to rub the dog's ears, cigarette held casually in the fingers of one hand. Skin covered eyes still looking towards the two who entered, lank black hair falling over them slightly.

"So. Who are you showing your pet freak project off to today?"

Bastard.

Human fingers lifted the cigarette to human lips, inhaling the smoke slowly.

Christian

Christian followed Blakesley, closing the door behind him. He almost groaned when he saw the dog again.

"Not that crazy mutt again..."

Blakesley

"Hey!" Kass protested.

"*You* try being one mind, two bodies, and ve vill see how vell you handle it, Dumpfbacke. Dummer amerikanischer Junge. Gehen Bumsen Ihre Mutter. Oh, Wartezeit. Ich tat dieses gestern Abend." (Stupid boring idiot. Stupid American boy. Go fuck your mother. Oh, wait. I did that last night.)

He blew smoke at the ceiling, before dropping the cigarette and crying out in pain as Blakesley trod on the dog's paw.

"Schizen! Meine Hand!" (Shit! My hand!)

"Watch your language, Kass," Blakesley scolded gently.

"Both halves of you."

Christian

"Whatever he said, I bet it wasn't very flattering," Christian chuckled, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded again.

He regarded the dog, then the man.

Blakesley

Kass swung his head to look at Christian, pale tongue darting over his lips.

"I said, go f*ck your mother, stupid American boy. Oh, wait. I did that for you last night. The bitch was f*cking tight as," he drawled in Dathrian.

"Kass..." Blakesley warned.

The German alien held up his hands in mock surrender, the dog mimicking his posture by sitting back on its haunches and raising its front paws.

"Oh, ja, ja, Herr Doktor. I vill be as vell behaved and modest as a convent girl."

Christian

Christian laughed.

"Maybe that line would have worked if I had a mother. Why don't you do some research before you let loose?" he suggested, tilting his head.

Blakesley

Blakesley moved back, content to watch the byplay for the moment.

Kass hissed a laugh.

"Nehmen, was Sie können. Geben Sie nichts zurück. So. Maybe you aren't such a dumb f*ck after all, Wichser." (Take what you can. Give nothing back. Wanker.)

He dragged back on the cigarette again before getting up out of the chair. The dog stalked across the room slowly, nails tickticking over the floor.

"So, vhy did you bring him here, Herr Doktor? You alvays have a purpose."

"Maybe I just wanted to watch you two interact," Blakesley said.

Kass cocked an eyebrow.

"Vhich means vhat? You vant him to f*ck me and you to vatch? After all, vhat good is a whore if he isn't put to verk? I vas expecting this sooner, you know."

Christian

Christian almost snorted again.

"Even if I was gay you're not worth my time," he furrowed his eyebrows, looking Kass up and down.

"And I don't think the mutt would like it, either."

Kass

"She is me, I am her, it is very confusing," Kass said with a razor edged grin.

"Try sharing space with a bitch's mind. Very...vhat is verd...verdamnt. Animal. Needy. Damned inconvenience."

He turned and stalked to the edge of the cell.

"Besides, der Tunte, half the men in Germany can't be wrong. Plus the tourist trade." (An obviously gay man)

Another turn and the dog sloped forward, edgy shoulders moving under shaggy black fur.

"Ich bin eine Dirne. So wieviel zahlen Sie?" (I am a whore. So, how much you pay?)

Another smile, echoed on the dog's muzzle.

"Was ist Ihr Vergnügen, Herr?" (What is your pleasure, sir?)

Christian

Christian just shook his head and looked at Blakesley.

"This is Taylor's forte. I have no idea what the f**k he's going on about."

Blakesley

"Ah, he more or less said he was a whore, what would you pay and what would you like?" Blakesley said with a twist to his lips.

"Ah, the Doktor does not approve of me, at all. Believes all whores should catch the clappe and die."

Kass ran a hand down his chest, then made a more then faintly obscene gesture with his hips. Blakesley turned away in disgust. The dog snickered a laugh.

Christian

Christian rolled his eyes.

"So we have a manslut on our hands. Fabulous."

He took a deep breath and sighed, looking up at the camera.

Blakesley

"Nein. Just a survivor."

Kass flicked another cigarette into his mouth, using a match to light it and cussing as it burnt his fingers.

"After all, when your body is all you haf to sell, better be good vhat you're selling, ja? Otherwise you won't survive."

Blank patches of skin stared at the two men in the room, the dog slinking across to lean against his legs. Blakesley snorted.

"Oh, please. Do grow up, Kass."

A quirk of his lips and Kass was almost smiling.

"I think zhat is vhat I haf done already, Herr Doktor. So, if you do not bish those services of mine, vhat else do you vant?"

Christian

"You know a lot of people smoke around here," Christian raised an eyebrow.

"Why anyone would think you were under some kind of stress."

Blakesley

"Smoking kills time. Cuts down the time between instances."

Kass blew out smoke in Christian's direction.

"Oh vhich there haf been too many of late. I see you haf also gone under de knife."

He tapped the back of his head meaningfully. Blakesley smiled slightly.

"One chip controls two bodies. Wonderful economising."

Christian

"If I hadn't, he'd hardly have let me free of some kind of restraint," Christian pointed out.

He glanced across at Blakesley.

"I'm beginning to think he knows me too well."

Blakesley

The intercom beeped an Blakesley moved over to it.

"Blakesley here. What is it? I see..."

He listened for a few moments and Kass pursed his lips slightly, then grimaced, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head. Blakesley glanced up.

"Don't do that, Kass. My mind is my own."

He turned away again and Kass made an insulting gesture, indicating that Blakesley had a tiny, tiny dick.

Christian

Christian ignored Kass, mainly focusing on Blakesley's half of his conversation. Unnoticably of course.

He dropped his head as he listened.

Blakesley

"I see. Why didn't you replace the U-8 with something similiar then? Hmm. Caused convulsions? No good then..."

Blakesley listened for a few more moments.

"I'll be up there in an hour. And for God's sake, don't kill this one."

Christian

Christian sighed, before lifting his head again.

He glanced up at the camera, then eyed the door.

Blakesley

Blakesley hung up the intercom with a click.

"Inbred British idiot..."

He rubbed his jaw before turning around.

"I would take you to see Taylor, but I think he's still in a coma."

Christian

"So now he's in one?" Christian raised his eyebrows.

He leant back against the wall again.

"Great. And he's gonna die any second."

Blakesley

"Unlikely."

Blakesley turned slightly.

"What did you know about what would happen?"

Christian

Christian looked up, hesitating for a second.

"What do you think would happen if you suddenly went from knowing everything to knowing nothing?" he forwned slightly.

Blakesley

"A novel way of looking at it."

Blakesley half closed his eyes for a moment, processing. Kass slouched back against the wall, finishing off his cigarette quickly.

"The only thing he ever gets a hard on from is science. How f*cked up is that?" Kass commented in Dathrian.

Christian

"Everyone to their own," Christian shrugged, replying in Dathrian as well.

"He's not the worst I've met, in that respect."

Blakesley

"I'm assuming this would be the alien language," Blakesley said, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Ja, one of."

Kass switched his attention back to Christian.

"So. Your deal is what? American based, obviously. I'm from Berlin, myself. Well, Home then Germany. You look an awful lot like that kid who could speak with my more animal half, you know. Except your hair is black."

Christian

Christian watched Blakesley curiously for a moment.

"I'm his clone," he said in Dathrian, not looking away.

Blakesley

"What, like those creepy girl children who look like something out of Village of the Damned sans British accents, who hit as hard as a f*cking Maori bouncer? Harder, actually."

Kass cocked his head, the blank patches of skin where his eyes should be staring out from behind a long fringe of hair.

"Freaky shit, American. He make you or what?"

Blakesley tapped his fingers slowly against the table, and Kass swung his head to regard him, the dog's head moving in unison.

"Ja, Herr Doktor?"

Christian

"No. I've been around a lot longer than this guy has known how to."

He regarded Blakesley, then turned to face the door again.

Blakesley

"Ready to go already?" Blakesley asked softly.

"Ah."

Kass nodded slowly.

"Well, this was a welcome break from boredom anyway."

Christian

"Whatever," Christian said in English with a shrug.

He unfolded his arms and put his hands in his pockets again.

Blakesley

Blakesley shrugged and opened the door then leaving the room.

"I have things of more importance to attend to. Come along, Christian."

The dog stared at Christian with empty eyes as Kass calmly rolled another cigarette between skinny fingers.

"Welcome to a Hell that resides in your own head."

Thin lips curled in dark amusement before Kass lit up.

Christian

"I've already been there a few times," Christian said softly, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

He hesitated, then followed Blakesley down the corridor again.

Blakesley

"Ah, but they were Hells of your own making, were they not?" Kass said softly in his native tongue.

He reached down and rubbed his other half's ears.

Blakesley walked quickly through the hallways, glancing down at his watch and cursing to himself silently. Damn that meeting.

Christian

Christian took a deep breath and sighed, his thoughts again turning to Taylor.

Well if he truly was in a coma, that soldier guy had said he'd get him out of it. He wouldn't let him die.

Time to see if he kept his word, really.

Blakesley

Blakesley pushed open the door to Christian's cell.

"Enter."

Christian

Christian glanced at Blakesley, but went through the door.

He went over to the table and jumped up to sit on it.

"When's the old man coming back?" he looked up.

Blakesley

"When he wishes?" Blakesley said in a bored voice.

"Why, so eager to give up your pound of flesh again?"

Christian

Christian frowned.

"Take the opposite of what you just said as your answer," he said, before looking across at the opposite wall.

Blakesley

"I would have thought so."

Blakesley closed the door quietly.

"Until another day, Christian."

He turned and left, knowing he would have to hurry if he wasn't to miss the meeting.

Christian

Christian hesitated, before running his fingers through what was left of his hair.

If they did something like this to Taylor, he'd probably lose it. Not that they seemed to need leverage over him anyway.

He winced at the thought, before laying back on the table and staring at the ceiling.

June
Index
Home