| Consciousness again. Fun. I opened my eyes for a second, but the light hurt. The walls were white now. They'd moved me, and the thought bothered me. That I'd been helpless enough for these people to simply cart me around as they wished - but helpless is all anyone is, in the end. The world pulls as it wishes, and fuck whatever you want. Someone stirred gently in the corner of the room, and it had to be Joy. I can't think of anyone else in this world gone mad that would make an effort not to make noise. I didn't bother to open my eyes; it wasn't as if I owed anyone any courtesies. "What do you want?" "I just wanted to make sure you were well..." Her voice sounded hurt. She shifted, and the chair she sat in creaked. Her skirts made a ruffling sound. "I want answers, now." I just sat up, my eyes still closed. "I don't think you really want -" "Don't tell me what I want." So much death spun around my head, and these memories were telling me that I had cut up girls with finer bone structure, more delicate skin and the memories told me I had enjoyed it. They told me that if I opened my eyes and looked at the pile of flesh and bone sitting in that chair that I could tear her limb from limb before I really thought about it. "Too many people have been telling me what I want, and I'm getting sick of it. Nobody can tell me what I'm doing here, or why they've drugged me, what they put in my veins, who the hell they are, why they decided I was so damn important, I've never seen you before in my life and you're really the only person around here that seems to even give a damn. So you get to answer my questions, because you are here and something is happening that I don't fucking understand!" My voice had gotten steadily louder, until by the end I was shouting with my eyes closed, fists clenched. She shushed me. I opened my eyes and glared at her, and maybe there was something there that scared her. "You aren't ready for the answers yet," she was sincere and scared and sad all at the same time, and I really didn't give a damn. "I really don't think you want them." "And I really don't think you know the first thing about me. What am I seeing in my head?" She only shrugged. "Visions, I suppose." "Don't toy with me, woman! Stop stating the obvious, and just fucking tell me! Give me answers." "They are just memories." I could hear her tense up defensively, and it only half occurred to me that I shouldn't have been able to tell. "But they are not mine." "Not quite. They don't belong to the you that calls itself David Anderson, but they are your memories." I studied her eyes, checking for that minute flick to the wrong side that would tell me she was full of it. "I don't understand." "I didn't expect you to." Joy was beginning to seem very much like an elitist. "Then you should fucking explain it better!" Honestly I didn't usually swear so much, or lose my temper so easily - I think - but something about having huge needles stuck in me and not having any fingernails made me edgy, stretched my patience a little thin. I wasn't going to apologize to this girl for being pissed though; I wasn't sorry and she deserved the anger. "You are remembering what you've done in past lives. Ray has been giving you the serum - PLFR-09 - in small doses for three years. It didn't work like it was supposed to. Your powers didn't manifest - except for your strength, and with it a temper - so Enosh deigned it necessary to bring you back and dose you properly." "Bring me back." My voice stayed flat, but it was a question. "Shit," her eyes went wide. "They never told you?" Not the best reaction I could have hoped for. "Obviously not, so the fun, fun task falls to you." "I have no idea where to start," her voice was muffled. She had buried her face in her hands. "Try the beginning, and stop being so damn dramatic. I want an explanation, not a movie audition." Her hands fell to her lap and her eyes grew cold. Ouch. I wanted to laugh as she tried to look menacing, but then she might storm off in a huff - the way women do - and I would never get any answers. "You were an experiment," she blurted out. "You should have died in that car crash that killed your real parents, but for some reason your little baby heart just refused to stop beating." "If I was an experiment, I didn't have real parents. Keep your story straight, it might be heart-breaking that way." OK, so I'm a sarcastic bastard after needles and torture. "You had people that donated… genetic material, and let us splice in some… fun things." Her grin said it was supposed to be a joke. "They were the ones you called Mama and Daddy for the first three years of your life, before they tried talking to the Feds about you, and us." Something in my eyes - maybe all the anger - amused her. When she noticed that I wasn't smiling, she just stared into space as she spoke. "But they weren't great parents to begin with. That is the only reason you're breathing right now. When they hit that tree, back on Fry, you flew 10 feet and landed in a pile of soft leaves. When the explosives went off you weren't there to burn with them, because they would never strap you into a car seat. They always said they'd just let God protect you." Her mouth twisted at the last as if she had tasted something bitter, and her eyes came back to me. "There is no God, you just got lucky." "Lovely story, but it tells me nothing." I clasped my hands behind my back because all I really wanted now was to see her bright blood covering my forearms, her skin beneath my fingernails… oh yeah. I didn't have any fingernails. "That's when one of our team took over. The vegetable you call Mom now, Lanie, is one of the six scientists responsible for your birth in this house, in the labs towards the back. Lanie was an absolute genius." Joy's voice became a little sad, but more wistful. "If she was so damn smart, why could a box outwit the woman now?" Harsh, but true. "Blame yourself for that," her teeth clenched. No smile now, no sadness in her eyes. Just a hardness that said that if I didn't blame myself - and I did - then she did so passionately enough for the both of us. But I didn't understand why. "You threw a fit one day, a temper tantrum, and you destroyed her mind. You almost destroyed her completely, which might have been for the best." Joy stayed sitting, but the menace in her eyes said that she wanted to get up and strike me. I could take her. She'd have to throw the first punch - morals again - but I could take her. "You're speaking as if you were there," I winced. My fingers were starting to throb where my nails should have been. "You look younger than I am." "On this damned planet, David, don't believe anything you see." She got tired of answering my questions and walked out. Her clothes clung to her enough that it made stomping seem difficult, but she managed it anyway. |