Mutants & Masterminds: Future Imperfect - Judas Worming

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“Really?” Tyler growled. His arms and back were bands of pure agony and his brief hope that this guy could help him snapped like an old rubber band. “That’s your first question? Fine, I’m the nearly-dead-person delivery guy. Do you want to sign for the package now or wait until I’m the really-dead-person delivery guy?”

Dropping the ice cream, the man hurried to the far wall on the other side of the door. He hit a button on the wall and an alarm sounded. “Put her down.”

“Gladly. She’s heavier than she looks,” Tyler grunted, squatting and gratefully letting her butt come to rest on the floor. Despite his sarcasm, he was gentle as he laid her down, turning her onto her side and taking care not to drop her head. His expression went from annoyed to scared when he saw all the blood that had soaked into his clothing. “Tell me you have a medic.”

“What’d you do to her!” the man demanded, though he didn’t step forward at act threatening.

“I stared at her ass too hard and put a hole in her kidney,” Tyler growled sarcastically. “What moron would hurt someone and then carefully follow her instructions to bring them to her secret base so that her friends could beat the shit out of him? No offense, but I try not to be that stupid.” He blinked and added, “Not that I’m calling you stupid… necessarily.”

Damn it, when will I learn to stop all of my sentences one word earlier?

[Grim]

The skinny guy was obviously trying to come up with a retort for that when two more guys entered the room from an airlock-style door on the far side. The first one in was stick-thin, had all-white eyes and stark white hair, a sure indicator that he was a mutant. Of more immediate import to Tyler was an SMG up and leveled at him, handled it with ease enough that the wielder was obviously at least familiar with the weapon. He moved to the side as he entered, white eyes scanning the room once before focusing on Tyler.

The second guy into the room wasn't armed, but from the looks of him didn't need to be. He had five inches and about thirty pounds at least on the scientist, and most of that seemed to be muscle. Not lumbering, 'roid-freak muscle either - the blond man came forward and dropped to one knee next to Margie with easy, fluid grace. He leaned towards her and tilted his head, plainly listening, then sniffed the air above her slightly.

"Over to the corner, and don't move, pal." said White-hair, his blank gaze boring into Tyler. "You think about zapping or starting a damn thing, I'll neuter you, then shoot you."

"Intestinal damage, muscle too. No spinal. Can't tell about other organs. Heart's still strong, but she's losing blood." Blondie told the small man, who nodded and ran for the far door, moving with a purpose. They could hear him yelling for a litter. The blond man moved with care, peeling the burned fabric around the wound away from the hole before stripping off his white t-shirt, wadding it and placing the cloth over the wound. There was a moan from the girl, her eyelids fluttering in pained protest. The man tending her leaned down close to her face as he clasped one of her hands in his. His English was without accent as he spoke, his voice firm and calm.

"Do you hear me?" A flicker of eyelids again. "Good. Stay with us now. You're safe. No sleeping yet - you need to fight. Can't fight if you sleep, Siroteva."

"B'st'd. Wan' sleep. Hrtz." Margie muttered groggily. A faint smile crossed the man's lips as he squeezed her hand, then he looked up at Tyler. Blue-green eyes shone as they caught the overhead lights, weighing and measuring the newcomer with a cool detachment.

"You're the laser man." he stated rather than asked. "She's spoken of you. Thank you for bringing her, but I am afraid you'll be our guest for a bit, at least until we can decide what to do about you." Behind him, a man and a woman burst into the room with a stretcher, the small man with them carrying a paramedic's kit. As they started to fuss around the fallen Margie, the large blond guy released her hand and stood, backing up and let them work, his eyes on Tyler as he motioned to White-hair. "Contain him, Zack... politely - He's not an enemy. Isn't that right, Mr Morgan?" The sea-blue eyes examined Tyler carefully as White-hair produced a black cloth bag and tossed it over.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“I’m always friends with the guys pointing guns at me,” Tyler said dryly. He’d kept his hands out where they could be seen. It was a good idea to be non-threatening in these situations. He tried very, very hard to not think about how he was a UNISON agent standing alone in the heart of a mutant terrorist enclave.

When the white-haired man tossed him the bag, Tyler caught it and stared at the two men. “Are you kidding? I’ve gone this far.”

“And you’ll go no farther,” white-hair said.

“This is so very unnecessary,” Tyler sighed as he shook out the fabric and found the entrance. He paused, looking at Fenris and white-hair one more time. Seeing no reprieve, he pulled on the hood. “I’m going to be pissed if I end up naked in a cornfield, just so you know.”

Honestly, he’d have been fine with it; the drying blood on his clothing was starting to feel tacky and uncomfortable. Tyler would also have been happy with that age-old prank, had it meant that Margie would recover from the lab accident. Suddenly, it hit him – the accident and the blood. In the darkness of the hood, he felt cut off from the light. The drop in adrenaline let the shock from the events hit him; the hood was suddenly cloying. Shaking, he yanked the hood back off. “Just a second,” he said, gulping air. White-hair looked annoyed at the delay; Fenris just stared at him. “Hood smells funny.”

“Put it on,” White-hair growled, his voice unfriendly.

You put it on. Steeling himself, Tyler pulled it back on. He focused on the light he could feel; it caressed his skin through the rent in his shirt. Trying not to think about the blood drying on his clothing or the way Margie had looked on the floor, he waited to be guided into the heart of the terrorist cell.

[Grim]

Hands gripped him and pulled him along, firmly but without roughness as he was steered down a passageway past a hissing airlock-style door. A few turns and twists punctuated the short walk before the echoing clamor of the base died away and Tyler realised that he was in a smaller room. A door closed, there was the sound of a latch being thrown, and Tyler was pushed down into a plastic chair.

For what it was worth, they hadn't secured his hands. He guessed that this put him somewhere between 'guest' and 'prisoner'. That wasn't a bad place to be... It could be worse. He tried not to think about how much worse.

"You can take the bag off now, Mr Morgan." The calm voice of the blond man, somewhere in front. Tyler pulled the funky-smelling black cloth off his head and dropped it, blinking slightly as his eyes adjusted. Sure enough, Blondie was five feet in front of him, standing propped with his back against the door. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that White-hair was behind him to the left, standing in the corner of the room gazing at Tyler in a distinctly unfriendly fashion, though that might have just been the lack of pupil to break up the whiteness of his eyes.

"I understand you will be a little rattled, yes? But please, refrain from attempting to use your gifts. It would show... bad faith." Blondie said mildly, no hint of threat in his voice. "We just want to talk, Tyler- May I call you Tyler?" Upon receiving a nod, the soft-voiced larger man inclined his head.

"Thank you, Tyler. My name is Fenris. As I said, we wish to talk only. About our friend who you brought in - for which we are grateful. So..." And he hunkered down on his haunches, getting comfortable, his eyes level with Tyler's, glowing slightly in the dim light. "So, tell us how you came to be here in this perilous place, hmm? Start with what happened to our friend and go on from there, please."

[z-Tyler Morgan]

Something about the man questioning him was familiar to him. It was vague and Tyler wasn’t sure why the guy was ringing his bell. The voice was mostly British, but there were odd hints and tones that made Tyler think that English was the first thing he’d learned to speak. Clearing his throat, Tyler put it in the back of his mind to mull over.

“Margie and I were at the lab, working,” Tyler said. “I was talking to her and she walked into the path of the laser.”

“Just walked into it?” Fenris asked.

“It was cycling, she stepped into the wrong spot and it… alright, simple explanation. We were doing calibration tests on the laser,” Tyler said, trying to remember to keep it simple. “When it cycles, it goes through a series of diagnostic tests. When it’s done, it fires a thirty-second pulse. This is a mining laser; that’s enough to put a hole clean through the human body. I think she was walking around; I was watching the tests on my laptop. When I looked over, she was in the wrong spot and the laser fired. I tried to abort the cycle but it was too late.”

He stopped to see if Fenris – what kind of name was that anyway – had questions. Instead, the man asked, “And then?”

“I wanted to call nine-one-one, and she insisted I bring her here,” Tyler replied. “I wanted to go to the emergency room, but she insisted – she hurt herself worse and I was afraid she might throw a fit if I didn’t. I also knew I could get her to an ER fast if needed.”

“How did you get in here?” Tyler’s captor asked. Oh, he was a nice captor, but Tyler had no doubts what would happen if he tried to leave.

“When I got to the basement, Margie got me through the first door, to the walkway. I was trying to figure out how to get further when that charming fellow with the ice cream fetish opened the door,” Tyler explained. “He raised the alarm, and here we are.”

[Grim]

"Sounds like bullshit to me." snarled Zack. "No way would she-" Fenris cut him off.

"He's telling the truth." the big man stated with calm authority. White-hair snorted.

"Man, your nose ain't all tha-"

"You sneak off and make out with Cleo when others aren't looking. You both pretend everything is fine, but you're terrified around her brother in case he finds out. Last night you shared a box of Godiva chocolates with her, though you only had a few." Fenris said in the same calm, matter-of-fact voice, though his lips curved upwards at the corners as he glanced at Zack. "Whenever she's in the room, your heartrate and hormone levels spike like-"

"All right, all RIGHT!" Zack burst out, his face reddening. "Jesus Christ, Fenris. You gonna tell me what I had for breakfast yester-"

"Banana-blueberry pancakes." Fenris said abruptly. "With syrup. Want the brand?" He was no longer smiling, though his expression was placid under the pale eyes that bored into White-hair. Tyler was put in mind of the still surface of a pool seconds before a shark's fin cut the surface. The tension wasn't lost on Zack, either. "Want to play some more, or shall we get on with this? He's telling the truth."

"Fine." Zack muttered. "Sorry, man."

"Accepted." Fenris nodded, then looked at Tyler again, his expression settling once more into a look of helpful curiousity. But the steel in his eyes a few moments before wasn't so easily forgotten, and with a faint start Tyler realised where he'd heard the name before.

Fenris: terrorist, murderer, ghost-story. Nicknamed 'The Wolf' in the European mutant underground. A rumor, mainly, though a rumor that had been associated with the deaths of officials from various governments around the world. A killer with no visual record on file, wanted for numerous counts of murder in virtually every country that had any sort of anti-mutant, or even slightly mutant-repressive, agenda.

And he was sitting five feet away, staring at Tyler. Smelling what he had for breakfast yesterday. Hearing his heartbeat. A goddamn mutant polygraph with a bodycount in the double-digits.

Fenris frowned slightly, as though he was reading Tyler's mind. When he spoke, though, it was all Tyler could do not to sag in relief.

"Don't be nervous, Tyler. I apologise for that scene: it was unprofessional." he shot a hard look at White-hair, then continued. "But you are in no danger here. Thank you for your honesty. Now..." Fenris got comfortable again, leaning back against the door.

"Let's go back a little, shall we? How did you meet with our friend? What exactly were you working on? What do you do for a living, Tyler? Oh... And would you like something to drink while we chat? Juice? Water?" Fenris reached back, ready to tap on the door behind him, presumably to alert someone outside.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“Actually, I’d love to change clothing,” Tyler said quickly. He didn’t really want to talk about his job – even though he really wouldn’t have to lie about any of it. And the blood on his clothing was really starting to bother him.

“Answer the questions first,” White-hair snarled, still unamused by having been grilled by Fenris.

“I hired Margie to write a computer program for a laser,” Tyler sighed, rubbing at his forehead with a hand. “The laser that shot her, actually. I work for MumTek in Mumbai, India. I study lasers. I just don’t do programming.”

“How’d you come to hire her?” Fenris asked, coolly.

“I got her name from a guy in Pakistan who said she did programming jobs and didn’t ask a lot of questions,” Tyler replied.

“Why on earth would you need that?” White-hair asked coldly.

“Well, if I could just tell anyone that,” Tyler said sarcastically, “I wouldn’t have needed to come all the way to Vegas to hire a programmer.”

“You’ll tell us what you needed her to program,” White-hair snarled.

“It has no bearing on what happened in the lab,” Tyler said, scowling. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve answered all your questions while covered in a cute girl’s blood – a cute girl whose life I saved, I’ll just throw out there. So until I get some clean clothing, I think I’m done answering questions.” He was shaking a little from his rising anxiety, which had nothing to do with the question and everything to do with the fact that he was covered in drying human blood.

[Grim]

"Of course." Fenris said, rising and beating out a short sequence of knocks on the door. White-hair started to protest, but Fenris merely shifted his glance that way for a second, head tilted to one side and an unnervingly attentive look in his eye. Zack subsided. "Watch him." Fenris instructed with a nod towards Tyler, then turned as the door clanked and opened. Outside, leaning up against the door post in a posture of teen insouciance, was a skinny girl with strange mottled patterns all over her face and arms. Eyes that seemed a little too big for her head peered around Fenris at Tyler, then looked up at the blond man expectantly.

"He spill his guts yet? I didn't hear any screaming." she asked with a cynical grin.

"He's been cooperative." was the answer. "Get the man some clean clothes, a washcloth and a bowl of warm water. And something to drink if it's no trouble, Arrow?"

"Never any trouble when it's for you, honeybuns." The girl appraised Tyler with a look that was far too knowing and sexual for one so young... unless perhaps she wasn't as young as she appeared. Still, the effect was a little creepy. "We should have some stuff his size. He gonna be any trouble?" Fenris looked back at Tyler and shrugged.

"I don't believe so, but I could be wrong." He glanced around and nodded to someone outside of Tyler's field of view. "One of you with him and Zack at all times. Leave this door open if you wish: technically Mr Morgan is a guest right now."

"I dunno, Fenris." Arrow gave Tyler a coyly flirtatious look. "He doesn't look dangerous."

"Nor do you." Was all Fenris said by way of answer. From beyond the doorframe a male voice burst into laughter. "Ooooh, burn." Arrow shot the unseen heckler a gloved finger, but smiled up at Fenris coquettishly.

"So not every guy can handle what I got." she said suggestively, moving closer to him. "Bet you could, though, big man. I hear things..." she lifted a gloved hand and laid it on his arm.

"Where's Frostbite?" Fenris's tone was all business. Arrow sighed and lowered her hand.

"Down in the sit-room. They're workin' on Orphan in the med-bay, and he's pacing back and forth swearing last I heard. Later!" she added as Fenris turned and left. For a moment longer she watched in the direction he'd gone.

"You're such a perv." said the male voice. "He's like, ancient. And you're checking out his ass."

"It's well-preserved." Arrow said with a shrug. "And he doesn't look ancient." There was a snort from the other.

"Whatever. He's old enough to be your grandfather."

"I know." Arrow looked at the speaker with an exaggerated leer on her features. "That's kinda hawt." There was the sound of someone mock-retching., and she grinned. "So are you going to get the clothes 'n' stuff? Cutie-pie here looks to be about your room-mate's size."

"Sure. Though I think leaving you with him constitutes a violation of some kinda mutant rights about leaving prisoners with skanks."

"Bite me."

"I'd catch something."

"Get going, douchebag." Arrow flapped her hand dismissively, then turned and looked at Tyler. The smile on her lips faded, to be replaced by a look of sober speculation.

"Thanks for bringing Orphan back here, mister." she said to him after a pause, the worldly-wise act dropping to show a girl who, despite having gone through a lot, couldn't be older than fifteen. "It's appreciated. Sorry about all this, but hey, at least we ain't hung you upside down to take turns with cattle prods." she smiled teasingly.

* * * * *

"Well?" Fenris asked as he entered the Situation Room. It was currently very cold: Frostbite was agitated. Which also explained why he was the only one currently in here. Faint fern-patterns of ice rimed the floor and walls, and Fenris's breath clouded in the cool air.

"Well... They think she'll pull through, probably. The medics say she's in good shape and didn't lose too much blood. They're stitching her up at the moment, and that's all I know. What about you?" Fenris poured himself some water from a pitcher on the table, breaking the ice on top of it with a finger-poke before drinking.

"A genuine accident. Mr Morgan wasn't responsible for it: no guilt there beyond a faint trace - because he feels he should have been able to do something, probably. Standard in this sort of situation. He's rattled and cooperative: we're getting him a change of clothes and something to drink."

"So it was all coincidence." Frostbite looked at the monitors, one showing the room Tyler was sitting in, the other showing the operating theatre.

"I dislike that word." Fenris answered calmly, coming to stand beside him and likewise studying the monitors as they spoke. "Never pass something off as pure coincidence, and you won't regret it. But I do believe that it was an accident where Morgan is concerned. That doesn't mean it was an accident of course."

"What the hell does that mean?" Frostbite glanced at him sharply.

"Merely that there may have been another cyberkinetic out there. Perhaps someone led them together, manipulated the situation, created the opportunity. Someone with abilities like Orphan's could do that."

"But why?"

"Good question. Personal reasons? That means it's someone she knows. Money, or professional reasons? That's more of a problem. Either way, if they targetted 'Margie', that means they probably knew she was associated with the Underground. Have Mouse start with a list of any CK's we know of out there, then narrow them down. Wait, make that any gifted hacker. No need to eliminate flatscans from the search." Fenris finished his glass of water. "And get some watchers topside. If they bugged Morgan somehow, they might already be out there. I'm having his clothing burned once he's got replacements."

"You really are a suspicious bastard, you know that?" Frostbite's tone was impressed. Fenris smiled briefly in acknowledgement, but his eyes were still on the screen showing the medics around the still form on the table. Then he set the glass down and turned to go.

"Let me know if anything changes with her." he said as he left the room.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“That’d take me right back to my college days,” Tyler said sardonically. He was still rattled and uncomfortable, but the promise of clean clothing was reassuring him. He was calmed enough that his charming smile was in appearance again.

“We can arrange that if you’d be more comfortable,” Arrow told him, smiling. That appraising look at returned, making Tyler’s testicles consider crawling up into his body.

“No, no… I wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone,” Tyler assured her quickly. She grinned at the expected response.

“I’m sure we’ll find someone who wouldn’t mind,” the girl said, her grin becoming sharper.

“Thank you but I’m good,” Tyler replied, hoping to god this wasn’t flirting and that if it was, he wasn’t doing it with a powerful mutant’s daughter.

“Not what I’ve heard,” Arrow shot back, her smile widening. The look in her eyes only confirmed where she was taking this line of thought.

Tyler shrugged, trying not to get annoyed by this line of conversation. “Believe rumors if you want. Some things should be experienced before they’re discounted.”

“So… you want me to experience them with you?” Arrow purred.

Oh god. There was only one good way to do this and Tyler drew a deep breath. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but no,” he told her as politely as he could manage. “You look way too young for that sort of thing to be anything other than uncomfortable. Also, people who run around in opera gloves in June in Vegas make me nervous about prolonged skin-to-skin contact.”

“I could be cold.” Her smile had shifted more to resigned, as if this was the normal reply but she wanted to have some fun.

“You could also give me some nasty infection or an agonizing poison, so no, thank you.” Where the hell is the guy with the clothing? “And you could also make me feel like a pervert, so double no thank you.”

“Too bad,” she said, right as there was a tap on the door. Arrow answered it and soon Tyler had water for washing and a change of clothing. He wasn’t thrilled with the jogging pants and a ratty t-shirt that proclaimed Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies… V-. Still, it was better than his blood-soaked clothing. Arrow left him alone without him needing to ask, another relief.

The young mutant stripped out of the bloody static suit and shirt quickly, gladly dropping them on the floor. He cleaned the blood sticking to his skin and pulled on the new shirt before stripping his jeans off. His underwear only had a bit of staining along the hem, another break. He seemed to be racking those up, he grimly reflected as he pulled on the sweatpants. Wonder when it starts to suck again. Balling up the clothing, he tapped on the door nervously. “Done.”

[Grim]

The door opened to reveal Fenris on the other side, who nodded as he took the bundle from Tyler and handed it off to the youth who'd brought the change of clothing. As the kid darted off, Fenris invited Tyler to leave the cell with a wave of his hand.

"Come on out. We're all playing the waiting game at the moment." he explained as he motioned towards a worn but still comfortable-looking couch. It and a low table, a couple of armchairs, a few beanbags, and another couch made a self-enclosed sitting area on one side of the large room. The other half of the room was mainly taken up with a desk, a few cabinets, and what Tyler presumed to be a gun safe. Arrow was curled up in one of the easy chairs, looking her age for a change as she gave Tyler a wan smile, obviously preoccupied with her concerns. Zack settled onto the edge of the desk, facing Tyler and plainly intending to watch him, though the hawklike hostility had abated significantly from their first encounter. Fenris settled Indian-fashion onto one of the beanbags, moving with unconscious grace peculiar in a large man. He indicated the table, which Tyler had already noted had a variety of drinks and a plate of sandwiches waiting on it.

"Help yourself." he said simply. His next words, though softly spoken, dashed any hope Tyler might have nursed about the interrogation being over. "We were talking about the program for the laser - the one that Margie was helping you with, if I recall?"

"Yeah... Look, I don't see what-" Tyler began to restate his belief that they didn't need to know the details, but Fenris raised a hand gently.

"Please, Tyler. This may be important, or I wouldn't be asking the questions. I think you can trust that if you are up to something shady, we are the last people to run to AEGIS or UNISON, hmm?" Fenris smiled, a wry curve on one side of his mouth. "I don't particularly care about your project, Tyler. All I care about is Margie, and how this happened." He took a can of 7-Up from the table and popped it open, taking a sip.

"So. If you would, tell me all you can of the person in Pakistan - 'this guy' who recommended Margie to you as an... ethically flexible programmer. And what precisely you needed her to program. The devil is in the details, after all." Ice-cool eyes studied Tyler as Fenris took another drink of soda. In comparison to the subdued Arrow, who was worrying at a nail with her teeth as she glanced from face to face between fits of staring into space worriedly and the vigilant Zack, who fairly vibrated with agitated alertness, Fenris was calm and cold as the surface of a mountain lake.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

Tyler sighed and grabbed a plate, stacking it with a couple of sandwiches and confiscated two sodas. He knew that the food would help settle him; eating was a calming activity. Still looking resigned, he took a seat, balancing his plate on a crossed leg. Tyler drank some soda and had a bite of sandwich, making them wait until he’d at least started to fill his empty stomach.

“The laser is a modified industrial driller; it uses a different mix of gas as well as an unusual lens – you’ll forgive me if I don’t go into more detail,” Tyler said. “It’s my own design, unpublished so I’m not ready to share more than that.” There was a chance it would never published, that he would never be able to claim it as his work, but better to let them think that he was protecting his intellectual property.

“The man in question is a mutant sympathizer named Talal Korai,” Tyler said. He rather hoped that he hadn’t just gotten Talal in trouble; it’d taken him a long time to gain Talal’s trust. Plus Tyler liked him – Talal had married and then found his wife was a mutant. Instead of putting her aside and turning her in, Talal had hidden her and joined the Pakistani Mutant Underground. “He’s well-known and trusted by the Pakistani mutant groups. He’s serves as an information broker and middle-man for mutants who can’t go out in public and be seen. He’s a stand-up guy, too.

“I asked Margie to create a targeting program for my laser,” Tyler continued. “I asked her to be able to hone in on infa-red targets and I asked for a hard-kill switch. That’s about as much as I told her; I left the details of the how and the why up to her.”

For a moment, he focused on his sandwich, watching them ponder over his words. “I have a question,” he said, taking a drink to clear his mouth of food. “What is going to happen to me? You call me a guest – so what happens when you’re satisfied I’m not the bad guy here?”

[Grim]

"We swear you to secrecy and give you the option of joining us." Fenris told him with a smile. "You've worked with mutant groups before, so you understand the confidentiality necessary, you've got cutting-edge technical skills, and it's obvious that you're well-connected in the Middle East. You're also a 'public' mutant. You'd be a considerable asset."

"Uh-huh, and what would I do?" Tyler asked dubiously. Fenris shrugged.

"That, I couldn't say. Given your skills and such it'd be R&D, or other strategic-level activities once the proving was done." The large blond man told him. "Naturally, there'll be tasks required to prove you're not a fair-weather ally or a plant. That's not for me to decide, though. I just advise." He leaned forward with a smile. "I won't bullshit you. The pension plan is iffy, the pay is non-existent, but the health benefits are good - we look after our own - and there's the fighting chance that one day you'll be one of many mutants breathing air free of persecution and oppression, and when that day comes you'll know that you helped bring it about. That's why I'm here, with this particular group. We're not about mutant superiority, we're about mutant equality. We want nothing more, and will settle for nothing less." From the corner of one eye Tyler noticed Arrow nodding sober agreement, and heard Zack mutter "A-fuckin'-men."

"And if I say no?" Tyler asked, conscious of Zack and his gun nearby.

"Then we part ways. You'll still be sworn to secrecy, but if you've kept Talal's secrets, we're not likely to worry that you'll share ours." Fenris shrugged. "It'd be a shame, though. We've got lots of fighters, and quite a few planners, but we're light on science skills. You'd be missed."

[z-Tyler Morgan]

Tyler nodded slowly, thinking rapidly. This was good, from his handler’s point of view. He had a chance to get in deep and hard – always fun. These people actually wanted him; he could be very useful to them. And this was what he wanted – wasn’t it? To get in, do his job, finish and move on?

Tyler nodded again, this time with more finality. “Fine. I’ll do my part to help the mutants here at home. If I pass all your checks, that is.” His hazel eyes assessed the shimmering green-blue ones. “What do you have left for me to pass? I’m not sure where we go from here or what the next step is.” He finished his sandwich and set aside his plate, adding, “I’ve never really done anything like this before.”

He’d been instructed on what to expect, but he’d never experienced it first-hand. This initiation and trust-earning could take many forms and he’d never learn which one until it started. He supposed that made him prepared but he wasn’t sure that was true. He wasn’t sure he was ready to start a more active betrayal. He was UNISON’s man – literally. They had made him, they owned him and they’d set him on these people. They’re terrorists. Bad guys.

But I still don’t want to do this.

[Ira Sagebrush]

"Well first..." Sam said, slowly walking in with a rather upset doctor-looking individual behind her, "You give wide open access to your past, we dig through it until we find the asshole of your great-great-great grandfather. Then.." She stumbled a bit, but managed to fall against the wall to support herself and waved off the doctor who was reacting to help catch her.

Sam's face was drained of color and she was drenched with sweat. She didn't seem aware of the fact that the only thing keeping her from being nude from the waste up was the bandages that were wound around her chest. "Then," she started again, "you do us some favors...to test your loyalty. Then...if you pass muster and no one has any bad feelings about you and you survive, then you can join us."

[Grim]

If Fenris was at all surprised to see Sam being so catastrophically self-destructive, he didn't show it. For a long moment he just looked at her, shimmering eyes expressionless, then he sighed slightly and stood up, moving over to her. She glared at him with the tired vehemence of a wounded cat.

"Don't even fucking start with me." she snarled at him in a tone that could have cut glass.

"You should be in bed." he replied evenly, as though she hadn't just told him not to say it.

"'S a great offer, Fenny, but I'm a little sore. Mind if we just cuddle?" she shot back, glaring up at him. A faint smile played around his mouth at her truculent expression, and he shrugged and took his jacket down off the hook by the door.

"Here." he said softly, draping it around Orphan's shoulders. The well-worn leather enveloped the smaller woman like a blanket, preserving more of her modesty. Then he stepped beside her and offered her an arm. "If you won't lay down, then come and sit." he said in a tone that sounded mild enough to be a suggestion, but Sam was familiar enough with Fenny to know what the look in his sea-coloured eyes meant: that he would carry her unceremoniously to the couch if she didn't take his arm and walk there like a sensible mutant freedom-fighter.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“Sounds like fun,” Tyler drawled, trying to be casual and sarcastic. He was worried about Margie though; she looked to be at death’s door, rapping on it angrily and demanding that the bastard open up. “I’m sure you guys already have a background check on me, so feel free to keep going. What else are you going to want?”

Time to see if UNISON was as good as it claimed. They’d told him that he was a masterpiece, the best construction they’d ever done of an et al. Tyler rather hoped they were; he really didn’t want to have to fight his way free, or worse, have Ronnie bail his ass out.

The more he watched, the more Tyler realized that the cute girl he’d so wanted to fuck was important to the operation, perhaps even the authority. The entrance from her house, the way that all the eyes in the room went to her, Fenris’s hovering – all of it said that even if she held no real power here she was central to this operation. With a sinking heart, he realized that she was likely to be one of the ones arrested and held by UNISON. He’d honestly hoped she’d been someone secondary, so that she wouldn’t see the inside of a holding facility. You didn’t choose that for her. Not your fault.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Sam sat gingerly on the edge of the couch with a wince, careful to keep her back clear of touching anything. Even the jacket was mostly sloughed off, only just barely remaining on her shoulders to appease Fenny.

"Yeah, I did checks...but it doesn't feel right. I know there is something else. This is the one chance I will give you to come clean. Because if you hold out...about anything, and I find out, and someone pays for it, the last thing you are gonna see is a shovelful of desert sand coming at you from the bottom of a shallow grave." Sam stated.

That her threat was mitigated by his ability to teleport didn't bother her, she knew Steve could hold him long enough to keep the threat viable. But ultimately, she hoped the threat wouldn't be needed after the video. She showed it to most of the newbies...the video that showed the cause that the Mutant Underground worked for. Equality for Mutants...and end to the human generated Virus.

Almost on command, Mouse walked in with an open netbook and handed it to Tyler with a nod. As he turned around, he spared a smile to Sam that quickly faded as he locked eyes with Fenris and then he quickly scurried out.

The screen displayed the universal triangle asking for permission to play which Tyler acquiesced to and hit enter.

The video that followed played out carefully and clearly what Sam and her crew had discovered over years of research and piecing finite pieces together, if with a slight bias putting the Mutant Underground in a position of 'fighting for the right'. The Virus had been created by humans and intentionally released and the government had purposely pulled funding and support from stemming its initial tide and had instead by abstinence, encouraged it. Allowing it to overtake and decimate the Mutant population in a span of time unbelievable for anything born of nature.

As five minute video drew to a close, Sam asked again, "So...anything you wanna say before we start this?"

[z-Tyler Morgan]

At first, the video had seemed like propaganda – pretty standard stuff for groups that would want to recruit mutants. But as it progressed, Tyler felt his dismay growing. This group didn’t have hard proof, but they were close. There was too much here for him to just dismiss it. Anger rose; outrage that he’d been told that UNISON was protecting mutants like his parents. In truth, they’d been protecting the governments, the one that had let his parents die at the hands of a mob.

The tablet slid off his legs; he absent-mindedly caught and held it out. Someone took it from him as the young man curled forward and pull out his wallet. Tyler opened to the picture of the Morgans, staring at their smiling faces. I was supposed to be stopping people from dying like you did, and all I was doing was aiding those responsible.

He could feel the others watching; they seemed to be aware of his struggle and left him to it. “Son, I believe you’ll always know the right thing. Doing it’s the hard part, sometimes.” Charles Morgan had never told him that, but Tyler remembered the talk, a very hard discussion after he and some friends had gone joyriding in the Ferrari owned by a friend’s father without permission. That memory always made Tyler cringe with shame, even knowing it wasn’t real. All of his memories were designed to be real to him – designed for a constructed man.

“You know how my parents died, right?” Tyler didn’t look up at Sam.

“Yeah,” she said, not going into details.

“They’re not my parents.” It hurt to finally say it. He’d been proud of them, in his memories, and it was hard to cut that tie out loud. “My memories say they are, but… There was never a Tyler Morgan. I was created by UNISON to infiltrate mutant terrorist groups. And when I say ‘created’ I mean I wasn’t born. I was constructed.”

Little wooden boy, me and Pinocchio.

“And I don’t want to work for them anymore.” The truth was finally out. He’d barely been able to admit it to himself, but now he told near-strangers.

The gun muzzle all-but-slammed into the base of his skull and Tyler winced in pain. “Can I finish before you guys shoot me?” he asked, letting his wallet fall into his lap before putting his hands to the arms of his chair in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. Man, the others were going to be pissed at him if he got them killed. Being haunted by four angry women sounded like a shitty afterlife.

[Grim]

"He's telling the truth." Fenris's deep, even voice filled the deathly silence. Orphan was staring at Tyler with a look halfway between revulsion and anger. The others wore similar looks, but the eyes of the large blond mutant were strangely compassionate as he stepped beside the chair Sam was sitting in and looked down Tyler.

"Man, again?" asked Zack. "You sure, this time?"

"He was telling the truth before, we just didn't ask him if he was a UNISON spy." Fenris replied calmly. "He's angry, confused, lost. He's been made into something he had no choice in being, but now he's trying to exercise his right to choose." He looked down at Orphan again. "We help mutants. This mutant needs our help. It's that simple."

"Fuck, Fenris. I thought you'd be all for ripping him apart after what you did to that AEGIS guy." Mouse said incredulously.

"He was a traitor, willingly so. He sold out his own species for medals and a paycheck." Fenris replied in that same deep, calm tone. "Tyler is a different animal. I believe him. And he could be useful to flip, if he'll help us spy on them?" The last was phrased as a question as the shimmering eyes fixed on Tyler again.

[z-Tyler Morgan]

“Yes,” Tyler told the gathered mutants, not really appreciating the reminder that Fenris was well-known for killing mutant agents. “To start, I can tell you about the other four Et als.”

“The others created like you?” Frostbite asked with a sneer.

“I want one thing, just one,” Tyler said quickly. “If you find the Et als, you leave them alive. I don’t mean let them hurt you, or not slap them around. But they’re like me – built and made and pressed into service. They gave us everything and can take it away, including our identities. I want a chance to convince them to turn, too.”

“Et als?” Mouse inquired. “Like ‘and others’?”

“That’s the unofficial name,” Tyler told the room. “I’m not sure what our official designation is. We’ve never heard it.” He leaned forward a little, only to have Frostbite haul back on his shoulder. “I’ll give you info on our handlers, missions I know of… I just ask that I have a chance to turns the other four mutants like me.”

[Grim]

Orphan looked up at Fenris, plainly at a loss, at least for the moment. How did you answer that? Tyler - or whoever - was dropping an enormous opportunity on her head. Not one, but five potential double-agents inside UNISON. The risk vs reward margin was too fucking narrow, and from where she was sitting Sam couldn't see which side was in front. Everything she and others had built. All they had worked for, the base, everything was being wagered on the good faith of this false-front of a man.

Well, not solely good faith. She had her secret weapon, the next best thing to a mind-reader. So she looked up at Fenny, a question in her vivid green eyes.

"We can trust him." Fenris said simply, his own eyes on Tyler. "Like I said before, he's sincere. He wouldn't be the first mutant forced to serve human interests, molded and stamped to their specifications."

"Too big a risk." Frostbite said bluntly. "I say we tear all the info we can out of him and dump his dead ass on the U.N. doorstep with one of Fenris's little tags to show what happens to fucks who spy for the Man."

"No." Sam decided, looking at Tyler and trying to see the man underneath, rather than the pretty face. Fenris's judgement wasn't clouded by wanting to bang Tyler, and Orphan took heart that the professional spook's assessment matched her own. "We'll give him a chance. Arrow, get the recording gear." She fixed Tyler with a hard stare. "We want the Et als, want to know who they are so we can see who else in there is close to us." Arrow set up the mic and other equipment, and Sam settled back, drawing Fenny's jacket around her shoulders. "Start spilling."

[z-Tyler Morgan]

Tyler took a deep breath and closed his eyes, organizing his thoughts. Frostbite still hovered behind him like a vengeful spirit, but Tyler ignored the armed mutant. A brief thought did flicker through him: what kind of powers did Frostie have that meant he had to rely on a gun?

“I’ll start at the top, with the oldest of us,” Tyler said, feeling strangely lightened to be talking about this. “Celeste Prideaux is annoyingly hot, five-eight, dark brown hair and gray eyes; appears to be about thirty. Likes the ladies, has choked on the occasional sausage as demanded by duty. Her specialties are infiltration and trust-building. She’s an empath who can have you weeping in your soup for no reason. She was created in 1994, when May originally split.”

“Explain that,” Orphan ordered.

“We all come from a mutant named May Allman. She’s not really around anymore; the effort of creating me has her in a coma,” Tyler replied, crossing his legs at the ankles. “We’re not sure if that’s because I was the first guy she’d made or what, but after me, she’s been non-responsive. And before you ask; she makes the shell of the person. UNISON telepaths fill it up – mold the personality, implant memories, and so on. It’s quite a long process, I’ve been told. Celeste is an aberration; much of her identity was built later, because May split her due to the stress of the mission. Because she was stitched together after the fact, Celeste is very cold and impersonal. Or so I’ve thought, anyway. She is very calculating and detached. Fortunately, she’s not a fighter. Wolf- Fenris could take her out easily.

“Two years later, they made Lena Wu for infiltrating the Triad. She’s as cold as Celeste, but she enjoys her job a lot more. Her background is that she was adopted by a Chinese American couple – yeah, someone was having fun with it. She’s a thief, and a good one. She could steal the diapers off the Pope before anyone knew she was there. She’s infiltrated the Big Circle Gang in Hong Kong, where she lives. She steals stuff for them, as well as for UNISON. They have to be careful about letting her off the leash – the woman is certifiable and a sociopath. She’s also a quadruple black belt in some obscure martial art that sounds like a Thai dish.”

“And these are people you want to recruit?” Orphan asked, her cute face drawing into a frown of concern.

“They were made to be this way,” Tyler said, his voice sincere. “No one asked us to pick who we wanted to be. Our pasts were crafted to bring out reactions to certain situations. When I’m stressed, I go to a bar and pick up a woman. Or two. Or a guy. Someone decided that it would enhance my mission if I was a bisexual man-whore. They did that because that’s the personality, without the bisexual stuff, of another fairly successful agent. His attitude is worse than mine, regarding authority, so I was made to be naturally more tractable. I was also made bisexual because it meant I’d be willing to seduce men as well as women.”

Tyler looked pissed as he said, “Everything I am is built because they might need me to do something like that later. I want to decide who I am and be given the chance to do it without getting brain-fucked back into the mold they made for me.”

There was a pause and then Tyler pushed on. “Ronnie’s next, created in 1998. Last name Collins, built like a linebacker and yet hot. Purple hair and eyes – pretty damn hard to miss.” Despite his description, it was clear that Tyler liked her more than the other two. “She can be abrasive. She’s muscle – her powers revolve around making minor alterations to her body to make her stronger, faster, able to leap tall buildings, etcetera. She’s pretty strong without making changes. She’s in semi-retirement since her partner was iced last Christmas; she wasn’t able to work with anyone other than Kincaid for more than a few days.

“She’s got a good heart,” Tyler added, his voice softening. “She cares about the people were used to make her ‘family’; she misses them like I miss mine. She was crazy about her partner, head over heels. And the point to that is to say that he used to spout ‘humans vs. mutant’ stuff occasionally, wondering if the government really cared about us, that kind of thing. I think he primed her for turning and I can do more.”

It was good to hear that he was already thinking about how he was going to turn them all. “Next is Rebecca Howards. She appears to be seventeen, brown hair and eyes, super-cute in that jailbait sort of way. She’s a telepath, a pretty good one. She’s also as sweet as sugar, literally, and constantly gets used as bait for that reason.”

“Bait?” Fenris asked quietly.

“She looks defenseless and gets a lot of missions where she’s put in the path of men who like their girls on the wrong side of the age of consent. I mean, she’s like… thirty or something now, but she still looks like a kid,” Tyler answered. “She hasn’t aged hardly at all since our creation – we all have some things that we share, a bit of regen, resistance to drugs and so on. We age more slowly than most people.” He glanced at Fenris. “I’m sure some of you know what I mean.”

[Ira Sagebrush]

"Alright. That's a start." Sam said, nodding. "You'll be well supervised to begin with, our trust is earned. Expect hazing...mostly of a friendly kind. I keep ice cream in my freezer. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pass out before I pass out."

Fenris sidled up to Sam and leaned down to whisper, "I've met one of them."

"Which?" Sam asked, leaning into the large man for stability.

"The first, May."

"Get me the details later, I can't focus right now. Drugs are messing with me. I don't need to be taken advantage of."

Fenris nodded as Sam pushed off him and slowly stumbled out the door.