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Author's Notes: This is my first DA fanfic. If you like it, PLEASE email me and tell me!!

Via Memorius

Chapter 1 - Viaje del Camino

Max glanced over at Alec as they drove, saw that he was sleeping, and sighed inwardly. He looked so much like Ben. Well, he looked exactly like Ben. He was a clone of Ben. Except Ben had never acted like Alec did- obnoxious, conniving, sarcastic. It was odd how two people could look so similar yet be so different. Ben had been sweet, so full of faith, but so lost... Alec didn't even grasp the basic principles of humanity, not really. But never mind. Ben was dead, and she didn't want to think about him. If she did, then she might have to remember how he died, and she couldn't handle-

Max fought the tears that were threatening at the back of eyes and focused on the road, the destination, the present. They were taking a road trip, she and Alec. To see Zack. Alec thought she was crazy, she knew that, but for once he was actually keeping his opinions to himself. She knew he knew that Zack was beyond important to her, though she also knew he couldn't understand why. That was fine with Max, as long as he didn't push the issue. And for once, thankfully, he actually wasn't.

They had taken Alec's convertible, because the last thing she wanted was to drive all the way across Washington with him yelling obnoxious comments in her ear while he held onto her. If she was to put herself in that situation, he might just fall off the bike. Forget that; she might just push him.

As she drove mindlessly along, Max thought back to how this road trip had happened. She'd been planning it for two months, ever since she'd watched that rancher wheel Zack down the hospital corridor and out of her life again. First she'd planned her trip in her mind, then out loud with Original Cindy. As much as Cindy didn't like Zack or want to see him again, she loved Max and she knew that her brother meant a lot to her. They had planned together, deciding to take Max's motorcycle on the sixteenth of July and ride it out to Zack's 'home,' which was up the coast of Washington, in a little town called Sedro-Woolley, past Everett and not quite as far as Bellingham. Max had been growing more and more excited as the day they were to leave drew closer until, on July thirteenth, Cindy had shown up at Jam Pony crying. She'd received a phone call that morning from her sister in Olympia; their mother had fallen and broken a hip, and Cindy had to leave right away. She departed that afternoon, dashing all of Max's hopes in the process.

It wasn't that she needed someone to go with her, she had explained to Alec that night at Crash. It was just that she didn't want to go alone. Not for something as big as this; not without support. She would have taken one of her other friends with her, except that they didn't understand about her and Zack's complicated relationship, and they of course knew nothing of Manticore. And she couldn't take Logan, what with her virus and Zack's buried desire to murder him, a desire which might just become unburied if her brother saw Logan again. Then Alec had proposed something that never would have occurred to Max had he not uttered the words.

"Why don't I go with you?" he'd said, taking a sip of his beer. "I know all about your past, and I could help you handle Zack if the need arises." His blue eyes regarded her with their usual ambiguity, his emotions veiled as he took in the world in his calculating way, always looking for an opportunity. Or a danger- in that way, he actually reminded her of Zack, a comparison that didn't often suggest itself to Max.

"First of all," she'd said after staring at him in surprise for a few moments, "Nobody's going to be 'handling' Zack. If he remembers me, we'll deal with it, but no fighting. Besides," she'd added more quietly, "I haven't even decided if I'm going to actually talk to him." Alec had let that go for the moment and waited for something. When Max didn't say anything more, he'd smiled in that patronizing way she hated.

"And second?" he prompted.

"And second," she'd continued, not missing a beat, making him smile and almost roll his eyes, "Why would you want to come with me? I was under the impression you thought this was a stupid idea." She'd waited, but Alec had gazed at her for a moment before speaking, not belaying anything as usual.

"I said I'd go with you. If you don't want me to then just say so."

"Wow," Max had said, feigning surprise. "What an interesting way to avoid my question."

"It wasn't a question." A smile had pulled at the corners of his lips; she'd glanced away from him because when he did that he'd looked like- don't think about Ben, don't think about Ben, she told herself.

"Okay," she'd said, smiling at him. "We haven't got a chance to spend any quality time together. This could be fun." At this, Alec smirked.

"Quality time? Come on, Max, no water works, please. I'll have to suffer through enough of that when you meet up with your 'brother.'" She’d heard the sarcastic quotes in his voice.

"Why do you think Zack is so hilarious?" she'd asked, both curious and annoyed.

"Because he's not your brother, Max," he'd said, fixing her with a look.

"He is in every way that counts," she'd answered softly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"What I don't understand is why you insist on labeling everyone. Why does he have to be your brother? Why can't he just be a guy named Zack who you busted out of Manticore with?" At this, Max had shrugged.

But now, back in the present, she reconsidered this question. Why did she label everyone as soon as they got close to her? Why was she always trying to think of herself as belonging to a family she really didn't have?

Max shook that thought away as soon as it came. They were her siblings; she didn't care what their DNA or anyone else said. It wasn't some stupid thing she had just made up to comfort herself; they were a family- that was real. Her brothers were Zack, and Krit, and Zane, and- DON'T. Don't think about Ben, don't think about Ben. She quickly concentrated on her sisters; her sisters were Jace, and Syl, and Jondy, and Ting- STOP. But the thought persisted: Tinga. Tinga was dead. And Eva, and Jack. And Ben, the worst of all, dead by her own hands. Wouldn't she ever be able to forget that four of her siblings were gone?

Max's eyes filled with tears as she drove. She tried to think of something else, anything else, but she couldn't. She glanced over at Alec for a diversion, tried not to focus on his Ben-aspects, and found a smile slowly spread across her lips as she recalled a more humorous memory from that morning...

* * *

Alec had shown up for work late, his lip split and bloody, a gash on his forehead, and his leg in a cast as he hobbled in awkwardly on crutches. Sketchy and Herbal's eyes had filled with surprise when they'd seen him, but Normal had just sworn under his breath and put down the order slip he'd been reading. Max had hurried quickly over to Alec.

"What happened to you?" she'd asked, instantly afraid of Manticore coming after them again. Alec was a genetically engineered killing machine, just as she was, and he had more than a decade of training on top of her own. Anything that could bring him down, she wouldn't have a chance against. This was part of the reason for Max's concerned look when she reached him at Jam Pony. Another part had to do with the fact that she had been fairly certain that Alec, given that he looked like he was in a lot of pain, probably would be too grumpy to go on their road trip. But one last part, she didn't want to admit, was that she was genuinely worried about his condition.

"Alec, are you alright?" she'd voiced her concern again when he didn't answer her first question. He'd just gazed at her in a funny way, like he was surprised she was worried about him. Max had been irritated; she was showing the guy sincere concern and he couldn't even crack a smile of thanks for it? He'd leaned in close to her.

"How else do you think I'm going to get a leave of absence at this short of notice?" he'd breathed in her ear, instantly erasing all concern for him from her mind and alleviating her fears that he'd been jumped by an enemy whose strength she could not even begin to fathom. She'd given him a dirty look, but inwardly breathed a sigh of relief for more than one reason.

"Alec, what's this all about? You get into a fight with your pointy-headed friends again?” Sketchy had asked him, smiling in his usual not-all-there, amicable fashion. Alec had rolled his eyes at his coworker but otherwise ignored him.

"Normal," he'd said, limping convincingly over to his boss. "Can I have some time off? I think it might be a little hard to peddle a bike with this leg."

"How bad is it?" Normal had asked, eyeing his employee's injuries warily.

"Oh, I should be back to work in a month or so," Alec had said; Max had immediately reached over and given him a firm jab in the back. "Uh... I mean three weeks." Another prod in the kidney and Alec's sure smile had faltered slightly. "Two weeks?" he'd said sheepishly, and Max, satisfied, hadn't touched him any further. Alec's smooth, calm look had returned instantly. In the meantime, Normal had been eyeing the two of them, perplexed.

"Two weeks?" he'd asked, surprise coming through in his voice.

"It's not too bad a break," Alec had explained quickly, and Max had smiled, nodding her head. Normal had shrugged and started to walk away.

"Hey, Normal?" she'd called after him, causing him to stop and turn around wearily. "It's noon; I'm off now."

"Off?" he'd asked, looking as though he was about to lecture her on how many hours a full workday generally consisted of. But he'd remembered, and frowned.

"Oh, is it the sixteenth already?" he'd asked and then, not waiting for an answer, he'd walked off, muttering things about broken legs and broken hips and losing three of his people in a four-day period. Max felt a little bad for him, but not that bad. She was going to see Zack, finally, at last, after all this time...

* * *

Alec stirred in his sleep, bringing her attention back to the present, and her eyes back to the- wait a minute. Where was the road? And what was that rushing up-

Max swerved the car out of the way of the tree at the last second and Alec's face hit the dashboard, the wound he'd inflicted on his forehead that morning reopening.

"Ahhg!" he yelled, wide awake now, rubbing at his face and taking his hand away to see blood coating his fingers. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Shut up," Max told him, annoyed that she'd allowed herself to lose her concentration but smiling a little too, in spite of herself, at the thought of having woken him up in such a fashion. Alec glanced at her a little warily, seeing the anger and humour mix in her face to create a bit of an unnerving look. Not in the traditional sense of the word, that he was scared; Alec would never admit to being scared even if he was. But that look was just a bit unsettling. Maybe she was tired; she'd told him she didn't need to sleep, but everybody, even transgenic soldiers, got tired.

"Do you want me to drive?" He asked, grinning at her.

"Shut up, Alec!" she said again, a little more seriously, turning to glare at him. Ever so slightly, the car edged into the other land.

"Uh, Max...?" Alec saw a huge semi coming their way, looming above them. Its horn sounded and he grabbed the steering wheel, wrenching the convertible back in the right direction, avoiding a second near-collision.

"I'd really like to drive now," he said, much more amicably than he felt. Max gave him a look which shot daggers, and he found that even more amusing than their current situation. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, he told himself, and succeeded in not doing so. Max was still glaring at him; the car was staying relatively straight now. He waited for it to edge off the road again.

* * *

"There, that's better,” Alec said, smiling as he firmly gripped the steering wheel, genuinely relieved. Max resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"Shut up, Alec, or I'll kick your ass," she hissed, and he heaved a deep breath, mostly for show, glared at her out of the corner of his eye, and prepared to deliver a witty comment.

"Look, Max, I know you hate me and all, but I'm kinda getting tired of-"

"I don't hate you,” she interrupted, sounding a little confused, cutting off the clever remark he'd been about to make. But he was too surprised to care, though he hurried to cover that up.

"Really." He resisted rolling his eyes at her. "Could've fooled me."

"Well, hate is a strong word," she said, shrugging. "You don't hate me, do you?"

"It's sort of hard to dislike someone who's so..." He looked at her and there was that unnerving wryness in his voice again. "Hot." She threw a disgusted look his way but smiled to herself before gazing at him thoughtfully. For a moment there she'd thought she had actually seen a little flicker of real hurt in his blue eyes.

All jokes aside, Max honestly couldn't decide if she liked Alec yet. What with her and Logan's lost cure and his obnoxious comments that never failed to annoy her, she didn't know how many redeeming qualities he really had, if any. But, she had to admit to herself, hating him was prevented by the fact that she loved him, even if she didn't really like him yet. Alec was an x5; of course she loved him. She may not have grown up with him and he may not have escaped with her and Zack and the others, but he was her brother just the same, as much as she hated to think of him like that sometimes- or, more specifically, all the time.

Of course, if she told him any of this he would try to cover it up with a joke or change the subject. And she wasn't too wild about the idea of telling him anyway. He certainly wouldn't understand if he didn't even think she should be calling Zack her brother.

Max realized she'd been staring at Alec a bit longer than necessary. She glanced away from him uncomfortably and noticed that her hands had suddenly become very interesting.

"I don't hate you,” she said again, in a softer voice. Alec cleared his throat but made no other response, and Max glanced up at him for a fraction of a second to see his statement before turning back to her hands again. She stifled a sigh; his face had been opaque and unreadable.

"Can I have another french fry, please?" she asked after a moment, and he looked grateful for a break in the silence, being for the most part unaccustomed to emotional displays of any degree, even one this small. He passed her the bag of food they’d picked up on their way out of Seattle; then he turned back to the road once again. This time, Max noticed in amused surprise, had head a tiny smile on his face.

Chapter 2 - Susurros del Tiempo

Adam brushed his short, dirty-blond hair out of his face and hefted another bag of hay, carrying it out to the paddock for the more skittish horses to eat. Alyssa followed him, her green eyes twinkling with likely yet another mischievous plot to tease him. She seemed to always be cooking those things up.

Alyssa was a woman whom Adam instinctively knew was pretty. The thirty-two-year-old had short auburn hair in springy curls that framed her pixie face, there was a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her emerald green eyes were always dancing with cheeriness. When she smiled, her whole face beamed and she carried herself with the air of childlike playfulness.

Adam also instinctively knew that he had seen pretty girls before- no, make that beautiful girls- but that looks really didn't matter very much to him. He had an odd feeling that he believed beauty was unimportant and even commonplace, though he didn't have any facts from his life to hypothesize why he might feel this way.

"Something wrong?" Alyssa asked him, bringing him out of his thoughts. He smiled at her.

"Nope."

"Thought you might be remembering something," she said, gazing at him thoughtfully. Adam had noticed that she seemed to be fascinated by the idea of him regaining his memories. Alyssa had been hired on, Buddy told him, just before he came home from his stay at the hospital, to help with his duties around the place until he could manage again.

"You seem eager to have me back to my old self," he remarked, then added, "Whoever that is."

"Well, I don't want you to think I'm stealing your job or anything. Buddy said you used to do most of what he's hired me for. It's just, well, you know... He says it was a pretty bad accident, that you've lost a lot, so of course you're not just going to be jumping back into things here." She smiled kindly and opened the bag of hay that he'd put by the paddock fence. "So, here I am, to help you out until you remember. I do want you to remember, Adam." She looked at him and shrugged. "Even if it means I'll be out of a job."

"You won’t need to worry about that," Adam answered, somewhat glumly. "At least, not for a long time. I haven't remembered anything yet, not even a tiny flash of familiarity. It's like I've never been here before in my life."

"Don't worry. It'll happen,” she said, touching his arm. Suddenly she smiled mischievously, then tossed a bit of hay at him. He laughed, enjoyed the feeling as though he hadn't done it in a long time, and threw a handful of hay back at her. Within a few moments, they were having an all-out war, Alyssa shrieking and running around the paddock, eliciting strange looks from the horses. Soon, Adam had cornered her on one side and proceeded to pour hay over her head. She fell to her knees to escape, and grabbed his jacket to pull him down with her. They laid on the grass, laughing and breathing hard. Adam sat up and brushed the hay out of his hair.

"Hey, what's that on your neck?" she asked suddenly, sitting up with him.

"What?" Adam asked, conscientiously touching his throat but finding nothing.

"No, on the back,” Alyssa said, looking closely where he couldn't see. She reached out to pull the collar of his shirt down. "It looks like a tattoo."

"Huh." Adam smiled. "Didn't know I had one. Kind of a weird place for it."

"Maybe you're a rebel and you just don't know it yet,” she said, grinning at him.

"What's it of?" he asked.

"It looks like a barcode. You know, like they have on food labels and stuff? What an odd idea for a tattoo, don't you think?" But Adam wasn't listening; an onslaught of memory had suddenly hit him.

"Ahhg!" Adam grunted, gritting his teeth and trying not to yell out. The man behind him told him to hold still as he positioned the laser again.

"Almost done soon,” he said in halting English. "More than half is done."

The room was dark, musty, and smelled of a mixture of Chinese food and a dank basement. Adam clenched his fists as the burst of the laser hit him, searing his skin and making lights dance before his eyes. He willed himself not to pass out, but the pain was almost unbearable.

"Adam? Adam!" Alyssa was shaking his shoulder. He stood up, running a hand through his hair. "What's wrong?" she asked, her green eyes concerned.

"I think I remember something,” he breathed. "Getting the tattoo." He winced anew at the memory and touched the back of his neck. "It hurt like hell."

"I've heard they do. I don't know. I've never had one." She giggled to herself, sound a little nervous, as though his sudden trance had frightened her. "Afraid, I guess. Either that or I don't want to have it all stretched into nothing when I'm a wrinkled old lady." She smiled, but Adam tensed as another barrage of images assaulted him.

Adam was in a jail cell. He was looking at a woman; an old woman. Her skin was wrinkled, her hair streaked with grey, and it looked to Adam that she had once been beautiful. But there was something strange about her, too. She was old, yet she looked young at the same time. It didn't make sense, but it's how she looked. The woman was two cells away from him; he shouldn't have been able to see her as well as he did, but he could. There was another woman, too, in the cell between his and the old woman's. Her back was to him but there was something oddly familiar about her.

"What's wrong with her?" He heard her ask, turning with Adam to see several military soldiers with machine guns standing guard. The girl was directing her question to a man whom Adam felt very hostile against, why he didn’t know, and there was an odd familiarity about him, too.

Adam's head reeled as the memory faded. Alyssa stood up, looking almost nervous. She reached a hand out to steady him, and it was only then that he realized he was about to fall over. She managed to help him to the fence, which he leaned against thankfully.

"Adam, are you okay? Should I get Mary, I think she's just inside?"

"No, I'm fine,” he told her, swallowing hard. "I'm remembering."

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"I don't know. I... was in a jail cell. There were two girls with me, in other cells. One of them was old."

"Old?"

"Yes. But young, too. I can't explain it. I don't understand. But I think she was..." He swallowed hard. "I think she was my sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Neither did I," he muttered, stepping away from the fence and pacing nervously, trying to shake the images and their strange familiarity. Those memories weren't of working as a peaceful truck-driver on Second Chance Horse Rescue Ranch. They had been of a different life, an exciting life, a dangerous life... a life he somehow knew had been his.

"Adam, are you okay?" Alyssa asked for the thousandth time, staring at him, looking extremely concerned and a little frightened.

"I have to go," he said; then, without waiting for an answer, turned and bolted toward the ranch-house.

He made a beeline for the bathroom and searched the drawers for one of Mary's hand mirrors. Finding one, he set it down on the counter and closed the bathroom door, pulling off his jacket and shirt. Taking a huge breath and holding the mirror out behind him, he brushed his dirty-blond hair from the nape of his neck and stared at the barcode tattooed on it. He felt another burst of memory flooding his mind and this time welcomed the answers it might bring.

"Yours is nicer than mine,” a young girl said, no older than ten or eleven, though it was hard to tell with her head shaved. She touched the back of Adam's neck. Somehow he knew that he was eleven and that he had no hair.

"They're all pretty much the same, Jondy,” he heard himself say. "Black, vertical lines. Besides, what does it matter?"

"Yours is prettier. I want mine to be prettier,” she said softly, her large blue eyes looking at him thoughtfully. "I want to be pretty like the nurses who watch over us."

"You will be. It's in the genes,” he said, causing her to shrug and turn away from him.

They were in some kind of hospital, it looked like, or dormitory, or barracks. There were fourteen other beds besides his, he noticed, one of which was missing its mattress. A girl, nine years old, also with her head shaved, was lying on her stomach two beds down from his, on a bed next to the stripped one, staring at the wall and smiling. He caught sight of her barcode as she turned her head slightly, but his memory-self didn't seem to think it was odd for her to have one.

Somehow, Adam knew she was the same person as the young woman he'd seen standing with her back to him in the jail cell. She was smiling at a sign posted above her bed that said MISSION, he noticed, and thought this was odd. Then he realized that she wasn't staring at the sign, but at a shadow on it, a shadow in the shape of a bird, being projected by a boy sitting on her bed with her. The child he'd called Jondy had joined them and was also smiling at the show. Adam looked at the boy, and he looked back.

"You should go to bed,” Adam heard himself say.

"I don't mind,” the young boy said. He was about the same age as Jondy, with the same shaved head and tattooed neck. "You know they don't sleep."

"You do, though."

"We didn't go to the High Place tonight." His hands were still making shadows for his sisters but he was looking at Adam.

"It's okay, Ben," he told the younger boy. "The Blue Lady will understand."

"I don't think she will,” he protested softly. Adam tensed up at having what he said challenged.

"I told you, don't let her interfere with your duties. We'll go up there tomorrow."

"She's already been shaking all day," the boy said, looking at the nine-year-old. "We don't want what happened to Jack to happen to her." Ben looked over at the stripped bed, and the girl turned to Adam with concerned brown eyes. He felt an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness for her; for all of the children in the room.

"It's okay, I won't let that happen to you,” he said to her, and he knew the next words he spoke wouldn't be a suggestion, but an order. "Go to bed, Ben."

Now Adam was more confused than ever. Who were Ben and Jondy, and where had they been? Who was the girl that he knew for many years, given that he saw her on two separate occasions, once as a nine-year-old and once as an adult? Why were all their heads shaved, and why did they all have barcodes? What had Ben meant, that the unnamed girl had been shaking all day? Who was Jack? Who was the Blue Lady, and what was the High Place?

He picked the hand mirror up from where it had dropped to the floor during his flashback, and again examined his tattoo.

"There,” the man said, switching the laser off. Adam let his breath out long and hard, not realizing he'd been holding it until this moment. He touched his neck gingerly and came back with blood on his fingers.

"I not seen such hard one,” the man said. Adam stood up, he turned to the man, and handed him a wad of cash.

"You will never see again,” the man told him. "Tattoo gone now, forever. Not coming back."

"Good, that's the idea,” Adam heard himself saying, though he could feel that his memory-self was doubtful. He turned and left the tattoo parlour, emerging onto a sunny street bustling with activity and the smells of spice and exotic food. Every building was labeled with Chinese characters, and he seemed to be the only white person for miles around.

So, he'd been getting the tattoo taken off, not put on, as he'd originally thought. But how, he wondered, could he have been getting it taken off if it's still on there? Yet Adam knew in his gut that this was the case- though, like so many of his memories lately, he didn't know why. Had he been in China, or in a Chinatown somewhere?

There was a knock at the door. He turned and heard Alyssa, calling him, asking if he was alright. He opened the door and she seemed surprised by his half-nude state.

"No, I'm not alright,” he said, pulling his shirt back on as he rushed out into the living room with her following quickly behind. He sat on the sofa, then jumped to his feet and started pacing. He felt like moving; couldn't sit still. Again she looked frightened and he found that it annoyed him.

"Adam, do you need to sit down? You don't look so good. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I have to get out of here,” he said, hurrying past her. She grabbed his arm, but suddenly he had her own and twisted it behind her back. She stared at him with a mixture of fear and pain on her face.

"Adam!" she gasped.

"Stay out of this,” he hissed at her angrily.

"Stay out of this." A young man, hair brown tinted blond from the sun, eyes looking troubled and sleepless, face tired and drawn.

"Charlie, wait,” A beautiful young woman, cradling a child who Zack loved but did not want to love. The woman’s hair was done up in a long braid, her lips were full, her eyes dark and almond-shaped. Adam found her very familiar, and he knew that he cared for her. But at this moment he was angry- no, disappointed- with her.

"We've got to do something, Penny,” Charlie said to the girl, causing a wave of hostility to rise in Adam.

"Tinga,” he corrected icily. The guy stood up and started moving toward him.

"Listen, you son of a-" As Charlie reached him, Adam grabbed him around the neck. He hated this man, hated everything he represented, wished to kill him for the sake of the woman Tinga.

Adam swallowed hard as he let go of Alyssa, his eyes wide with fear at his own actions and memories of past violence.

"Another one?" she asked gently, touching his arm. He was surprised she was coming near him; sensing this, she smiled slightly. "It's okay, you're not you right now." He brushed her off and paced across the room as before.

"You can't say that; you don't know me. I don't even know who I am!" he snapped, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I have to figure out what's going on, here. I have to get away from here." He was muttering, mostly to himself. Adam moved toward the door.

"Wait!" she called him back. "You can't just leave. You have to do that run into town in about ten minutes! Buddy needs you, Adam." He knew this, and sighed inwardly. He would do the run, but as soon as he got back he would get to the bottom of these strange memories. Alyssa was holding out her hands placatingly, but he noticed taht she didn't approach him as she had last time. For some reason, he got smug satisfaction from this. Somehow, she didn't matter; no one mattered, suddenly, except those children. They're grown now, he realized. I have to find them!

"Please, Adam,” Alyssa said gently. "What do you see?"

"What do you see?" the voice that came from behind him was young, melodic, adoring. The owner of this voice believed in him in a way that Adam didn't think he had ever experienced before. Yet, his memory-self found it normal that such trust would be placed on his shoulders. He turned away from the barred window of the barracks to lay eyes on the same brown-eyed girl who had watched Ben's shadow puppet shows with Jondy. Except now she was younger; four or five. Adam knew somehow that he was eight.

"Dogs,” he said, looking out the window again. She came to stand next to him; he glanced down at her, saw her standing on tip toes, struggling to see, and lifted her soft body into his arms. "Look," he said, and pointed out into the yard. "There."

The German Shepards to which he was referring must have been a hundred metres away, yet he could see them clearly. A full moon hung over the forest where the dogs were being led back and forth by their trainers.

"What are they for?" the child asked him.

"I don't know,” he said. "Maybe a new training exercise for us. Maybe looking for something."

"They're scary,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry." It was more than natural to console her, protect her from her fears. It was pure instinct; it was the essence of who he was.

"I like them,” A young child's voice chirped from the other side of Adam, and he turned to look at a boy of six years old, grinning out at the dogs with a cheerful shine in his eyes.

"You like everything, Zane,” Adam said.

"Well, I like dogs most of all," the boy told him, then turned away from the window. "Brin wants us to come and see the picture she drew with those crayons the nurse gave her yesterday."

"Let's go," the little girl said, and jumped down from Adam's arms, taking his hand and dragging him along as she followed Zane back to the barracks. He felt a swell of love gazing at her little bald head and chubby hand squeezing his as they walked along. She was the littlest of all of them, he knew, and needed to be protected. They went into the barracks, where eleven children of various ages were crowded around Brin, none older than he was or younger than the girl whose hand was still clasped in his. Brin had drawn a picture on the wall behind her bed so the guards wouldn't see it. Adam was proud of her cleverness.

"What is it?" the youngest asked, letting go of his hand to get a closer look at the drawing. Adam looked at the picture; it was colourful, with buildings and people on the street, people he realized belatedly were himself and his siblings. He hadn't recognized them because they all had hair and were wearing civilian clothing.

"It's us in the Good Place,” Ben answered, but Brin shook her head.

"No, it's the Real World. This is where we'll go when we run away from here,” she said. Ben frowned, but said nothing, and Adam felt himself tense as he reflected on her words. He subconsciously tightened his hand around his smallest sister's protectively. She shook too much, his memory-self knew, though the Adam experiencing the flashback didn't understand this. Eight-year-old Adam shook the thought away and concentrated on the picture.

"That's a beautiful drawing, Brin," he said, and his little sister beamed up at him. It was then that the present-day Adam recognized her as the old woman in the cell who had been somehow young at the same time, and he shivered. Her soft voice was so sweet, so innocent, as she spoke:

"Thank you, Zack."

"Adam!" Alyssa's voice hauled him once again out of his reverie. "What did you see?"

"I just had another one. I was in some sort of boarding school, or military school or something. I was with my sister."

"The old woman again?"

"No, a different sister."

"Another one?"

"Yes, my youngest... I think I have a lot of siblings, about fifteen." At this, Alyssa raised her eyebrows, but he barreled on. "We were looking at some soldiers out in the yard behind the building where we slept leading some dogs around. Then one of my brothers came and told me to come back to the barracks to see a picture that Brin had drawn."

"Who's Brin?"

"My sister. The old woman. Only she was a child in this flashback. We all were."

"Go on,” Alyssa said, looking more interested than frightened now.

"I went with my littlest sister to see Brin's drawing-"

"What's her name, your youngest sister?"

"I don't know." Adam frowned for a moment, then shrugged off the feeling and continued to explain. "We went to see Brin's drawing, and she said it was of the real world, where we would go when we escaped. I didn't understand what she meant, but I remember it had something to do with my littlest sister. I was afraid for her for some reason. It also had something to do with Jack."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Another brother, maybe? Ben mentioned him in a memory I had before."

"Who's Ben?"

"My brother, Ben. He made puppet shows for Jondy and my smallest sister because they didn't sleep." Before she could ask, he quickly added, "Jondy's another one of my sisters."

"What odd things you're remembering." Alyssa smiled, seeming almost amused, and this annoyed him. "Barracks and military school for small children? I've never heard of that."

"Neither have I, but that's not the strangest part," he told her. "They all had barcodes like mine on the back of their necks. And Brin said something to me at the end of the last memory. I told her that her drawing was beautiful and she said thank you. But she didn't call me Adam."

"What did she call you?" Alyssa asked; Adam raised his head to look at her and narrowed his eyes in confusion at the memory.

"Zack..." he said slowly. "She called me Zack."

Chapter 3 - Para Verse

Alyssa watched as Adam paced the living room, concerned for him, knowing that she would have to tell him who she was soon, hating that she hadn't been able to do it before. But it would have been too dangerous, and it was important that he trust her.

Alyssa was a clinical psychologist. She had been trained to provide care and a shoulder to cry on for victims of severe trauma, and, more recently, those suffering from memory loss as a result of that trauma. Logan Cale had asked her, as a personal favour, to take care of a young man, Adam Thompson, which was actually an alias given to a man who was suffering from total amnesia as a result of his trauma. But Logan’s request had been a little odd, much different from most requests put in for amnesiacs. He'd told her that she needed to allow Adam's memories to resurface naturally, without the aid of the familiar surroundings and people that were often used for treatment of this condition, nor with the help of hypnosis. Adam would have to remember on his own, and though she was trained to know how to give him the gentle suggestions he needed to cause this to happen, she had prepared herself for a long, slow process.

Logan had hoped that she would be able to bring him gradually into it, ease the transition between Adam and the man he'd been before, Zack, to allow for him not to turn into the raging attemptive murderer that he had said he'd been the last time he'd regained his memories. She knew Logan hadn't told Max, Logan's friend and Zack's sister, the one for whom she was truly doing the favour, of Alyssa’s existence. Max thought her brother was out of her life for good, as Logan had explained, and he didn't want to get her hopes up if there was no reason for hope. It had been possible that, without encountering anyone or anything from his past, Adam would never have remember that Zack even existed.

Admittedly, the process was going ahead much faster than she'd thought it would, and she was a bit unprepared for him to regain so many memories so quickly. It was like a domino effect; one memory at her gentle suggestion by asking him about his barcode and all his blocks seemed to be coming down rapidly. Alyssa watched Adam's pacing; he was growing more and more agitated by the second. She took a breath.

"Adam-"

"Zack,” he muttered. If she was surprised, she didn't show it.

"Zack," she continued, "there's something you have to know. I'm not who you think I am." Slowly, he stopped his pacing to face her. She swallowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to lie to you. I'm a psychologist. I was hired here not only as a stable-hand, but as someone to help you with your amnesia. I've worked with victims of post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociation, and the like. I was brought here for when you needed help, when you started to regain your memories." He blinked at this revelation, stared at her for a few moments, then resumed his pacing; she watched him desperately. After another few moments he stopped again and looked at her.

"So you're here to watch me?" he asked, cynically, almost icily, his voice not belaying the betrayal he must have felt. He was growing less and less like the Adam she had known for two months by the second, and it frightened her a little because she had never seen such rapid progression before.

"I'm here to help you, Zack. I'm your friend," she said softly. He hesitated.

"I know,” he said after a few moments, staring at the horses grazing out the back window. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked at the rug. "You've been a good one. I just don't understand." He turned to her. "You know about these memories, what they mean? Why didn't you tell me who I was?"

"You wouldn't have understood. You had to come to it on your own, and I only know some things, not all of it." She reached out a hand and laid it on his forearm gently. "Zack, please try to understand."

"I want to know," he told her. "I deserve to know who I am."

"Yes, that's perfectly healthy. I'll help you. Together we can do this; we can find out who you are." Alyssa was choosing her words carefully, as she knew something had been done to Zack back at that Manticore place which made him want to kill Logan, and that the regaining of his memories could not be allowed to play out the way they did the first time. Soon he would remember those feelings of hatred, if he hadn't already, and she would have to get to him, make him see that Logan was not the enemy. She looked at him. "Together we can do this, Zack."

"'Together we can do this.' Always tell yourselves that. Teamwork is everything." The voice of the man from the cell with Brin; firm, sure. Zack listened with his siblings, sitting en rapt in their desks; perfect posture and perfect obedience as they gazed at their teacher. The man looked directly at Zack. "It is the leader's job to make decisions for the best and most efficient benefit of the unit. Remember: there is no 'I' in team."

"Zack?" her voice cut through his flashback. He turned to her.

"If you want to help me, you can start by answering some questions." He said it in a voice that sounded accustomed to giving orders. Alyssa hugged herself in the sudden chilly afternoon and wondered how much of the man she'd grown to know and care about was left inside him now, and how much would slip away in the next few minutes, hours, days.

"I'll try, of course,” she said, sitting on the grass of the yard. He did the same.

"Tell me about the children." She had his undivided attention. "My siblings."

"I don't know a lot about them. I know you cared about them."

"I wanted to protect them." His voice was soft, loving. She smiled.

"Yes. You were a very good brother."

"You're a good brother, Zack." Jondy's voice was sweet, loving as they padded barefoot through the corridors, their siblings behind them. "It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't have given her that order." He clutched his youngest sister's arm protectively where she stood slumped between them, her body still convulsing slightly. "She wasn't ready." He choked back the tears that were threatening, knowing he couldn't let them see such a weakness.

"Where's Eva?" Jace, another sister, asked as she joined them; her voice was high with fear. "Gone,” Jondy whispered, avoiding Zack’s eye. The young girl's dark eyes filled with tears.

"Don't worry, Zack, she's in the Good Place."

"Ben, don't." He brushed his brother off for the first time in his life and it crushed the boy. "Don't talk about the Good Place, it's not real. We're not little anymore."

"It's real!" Ben was angry.

"Go and walk with Tinga,” Zack ordered; Ben wasn't mad enough not to follow an order, and turned swiftly, all but stomping to the back of the group. Zack saw tears in his eyes, and a few moments later he felt a small tug at his sleeve.

"What now, Jondy?" he asked, hiding his pain at Eva's death with annoyance.

"Right then, Zack, you weren't a good brother." Her wide blue eyes didn't hold any judgement for him, only truth, and that lack of judgement made her pure in his eyes and him dirty and lowly.

"Ben, come here,” he said; slowly, reluctantly, his brother came to walk again at his side. "Tell us a story." The boy's face lit up, and Zack felt a little better.

"Adam... was he real?" Zack asked after he'd recovered; Alyssa glanced away.

"No."

"And Buddy-"

"Buddy really owns this ranch. Mary is really his wife. You were sent here so you would be safe."

"From what?" he demanded. "By who?"

"It's complicated," she said after a short pause. Zack let that go for the moment.

"There wasn't an accident, was there?"

"No."

"How did I get like this? What happened?"

"That's complicated, too."

"I want to know!" He stood up and looked like he was about to resume his pacing. He was like a caged animal. Alyssa quickly rose to her feet and grasped his forearms; he looked at her warily but didn't pull away. A good sign.

"Zack, this has to take time," she said calmly. "You only just started to remember. You have to let these memories sit for a while before you can fully make sense of them."

"I have to know who I am," he snapped, then added in a near-whisper, "I have to protect them."

"Who?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Your siblings?"

"Yes. They need me."

"Zack, you're confused." She smiled kindly and squeezed his arm. "They're grown up now. They're alright."

"No, I have to look out for them. They'll try to get them back."

"Who will?"

"The people we escaped from!" Zack was almost panicking now, and it alarmed her. She had to get him to bring his thoughts into perspective. He needed a reality check.

"That was more than ten years ago. You don't know what's happened since then." She smiled at him again. "You love them, Zack, that's obvious. But you're only remembering fragments of your life. That's pretty impressive, but-” Zack stopped listening as a barrage of images assaulted him.

"That's pretty impressive... How you got away. I am very proud of you." A man's voice, crackling from some sort of radio behind him. Zack was driving, and he was very tense.

"Gee, thanks, dad." A sarcastic voice from the backseat.

"Turn it off," he told its owner.

"Please, listen to me." The man again. "Brin doesn't have much time." Present-day Zack stiffened. Oh God, oh no, Brin, what's happened? "Help me get her to Manticore before it's too late. I taught you always to have a plan. What's yours? To get her to a hospital? They won't understand what they're seeing. They won't be able to help her. I can have her to Manticore in four hours. There's still time." Half of Zack's memory-self wanted not to face the truth of his words; the other half wanted to leap through the crackly radio and kill him.

Slowly, softly, he breathed to Alyssa: "No, they're not okay. They need me." He turned from her and hurried into the kitchen.

"Zack!" she called after him desperately, but he didn't listen to her. She followed him and found him pacing once again, around and around the island in the centre of the kitchen. She took a seat at the breakfast nook and simply waited, watching him.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he asked after a short time, his voice agitated. He came to a stop in front of her; she didn't answer and he resumed walking back and forth, irritated though he knew it wasn't her fault, clenching and unclenching his fists in frustration. Finally, he slowly stopped and sat down across from her, holding his hands stiffly on his knees. As if she had been waiting for a silent cue, she turned around and took out a few blank sheets of paper and a pencil from the counter behind her and laid them in front of him.

"What's this for?" he scoffed, regretting it for a moment but not belaying this as he stared at her. She smiled.

"I want you to draw me a picture,” she told him, and he heard himself laugh, though it wasn't the happy, carefree laugh he'd had that morning in the paddock, before he’d remembered who he was and his responsibilities.

"What do you think I am, a child?"

"If you want to be."

"What?"

"You can draw as you are now or as you were when you were a child. It doesn't matter. Just draw me something."

"I can't draw."

"How do you know?"

"They didn't teach us that kind of stuff in-" he broke off, momentarily taken aback as he recalled the name of the facility he and his siblings had lived in. He swallowed hard; he wasn't ready to think, let alone speak, the name, though he'd heard the man say it only moments before in his last flashback. Alyssa looked at him expectantly, so hopeful that he slowly reached for the pencil. He stared at the paper.

Zack was in Seattle, he knew somehow, approaching a telephone post. He grabbed a piece of paper off the post, looked down at it. The girl of five years old who he'd lifted to see the dogs, the girl of nine who had watched Ben's shadow puppet shows, his littlest sister all grown up, stared back at him, with the words REWARD and $50,000 standing angrily out against the white paper.

Zack took the pencil firmly in his hand and made a few harsh lines, then as he got more into it, his statement turned to one of deep concentration. Alyssa waited patiently, and within a few minutes, he finished and set down the pencil, pushing the paper toward her, all business again. She hadn't seen him smile since they were out in the paddock, and it made her a little sad. She pushed the thought away and looked down at the drawing he'd made.

An oval was drawn in the dead centre of the paper, with huge block letters reading MISSION written expressionlessly below it. Inside the oval was the silhouette of some sort of creature, its tail coiled and its claws beared. It vaguely resembled a lion, except for the profiled face, which seemed almost human; this made Alyssa shiver. Over the beast was what looked like the outline of a mountain or a smokestack, two lines jutting up to meet with a dip in the centre. Under them, a half-circular object with orbital lines around it and a hooked outcropping on the bottom, left-hand side of the half-circle. She looked up at Zack.

"What is this?"

"Don't know,” he said, not wanting to look at it now that it was done. He felt as though someone else had drawn it, committed the hideous thing to paper, not him. "It's something."

"What about this?" Alyssa pointed to the last image on the picture, in the bottom right of the paper, barely there, a shadow of something.

"One of Ben's butterflies. He made them for two of my sisters because they didn't sleep."

"You mentioned," she said, nodding.

"Why did you make me do that?"

"It's called art therapy. Sometimes it helps focus the mind, calm the patient,” she explained. He nodded.

"Makes sense." After a moment, he asked uncomfortably, "So where do I go from here?"

"I'm here to help you work that through,” she reached out and put a hand on his. "It's going to be tough sometimes, Zack. In time, though, we'll work through everything you remember, piece by piece. We're going to get through this. Don't worry."

"Don't worry." Zack took the hand of his youngest sister; he was eleven years old again. She was nine, and terrified, her brown eyes staring into his, her fear searing into his soul as her body convulsed in her bed.

"We can't let them see her like this." Jace; she was scared.

"They'll give her to the nomlies,” Ben agreed, looking to Zack for answers. He turned back to gaze into his brother's eyes, and something inside him hardened.

"No,” he said. "I won't let them. We're going. Now."

"Now?" Jace looked concerned. "We were going to wait until-"

"I know,” Zack snapped. "But we can't risk it. You know what happened to Jack." He let go of his sister's hand and motioned the others over. He gave them several hand signals, telling them what to do without words, as they'd been taught to do.

Get outside and then regroup inside the forest, he told them, by the old fallen log where I used to take you to play during off-duty hours when we were very small.

They nodded, and he motioned for Jondy to help him with their littlest sister, who was still shaking. Then they waited for the guard to come, and for the rest of their lives to finally begin.

Zack swallowed hard.

"I'm here to help you," she said. "Please let me." He let out his breath slowly.

"I know," he said. "It's just that all this kind of came out of nowhere." He ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair, tried to get a handle on his emotions. "I need some time." His hand came to rest at the base of his neck, and he touched the barcode he knew was there.

Alyssa lowered her voice and said softly, "Of course. Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

"I'll be here," a man's voice said. Zack was in a very nice apartment, looking at the back of a man in a wheelchair, who sat in front of a computer and had just hung up the phone he'd been talking on. Zack felt overwhelming hostility toward this guy, but wasn't sure why. Then the man turned around and suddenly, the hatred wasn't only that of his memory-self, but present-day Zack as well. Somehow he knew: this man was bad, heinous, evil, a traitor, someone who wanted to kill Zack and hurt the ones he loved. Or, more specifically, a certain one he loved: the brown-eyed child, his littlest sister.

"We've got a lead," the man was saying. "My contact's got to confirm some details, get back to me." There was a pause. "Risky piece of business grabbing Lydecker."

"Lydecker." The name so distracted Zack from his thoughts on the blue-eyed man that he was pulled out of his reverie. The man teaching the class; the man on the radio. He hated Lydecker.

"What?" Alyssa's confused voice asked.

"Lydecker. That's him, the one who we escaped from, back at Manticore."

"Manticore," she stated, emotionless. This was going much more quickly than she'd thought it would. Or wanted it to.

"Yes, you know, the place where they had us." He was annoyed, impatient. "The military school or whatever." He looked at her. "Tell me about it."

"Manticore?" She took a breath. "From what I understand, it was some sort of military project focused on genetic engineering. They wanted to create a perfect soldier. It's gone now." She hesitated, not knowing how much she should tell him, then decided it was important above all else that he trust her. And if she hid information from him that would never happen. "You were one of many they created before the facility burned to the ground last fall. A lot of them weren't successful. Thirty or so were, of which you were the first one who survived. Even more after your escape, but those ones were different."

"Thirty?" Zack breathed; he'd remembered about thirteen children- fifteen, including himself and the boy he'd never seen, Jack. Where were the other fifteen?

"Two groups, called X5. Raised apart. You were the unit leader of one; your subordinates were who you call your siblings." Zack flinched as a new barrage of images assaulted his senses, this time with no help from her words, but completely spontaneous and separate from external stimuli.

"She's getting weaker," a young woman's voice said softly from behind him. Zack was driving; it was night, the stars were out. It was raining. He could feel anger deep in his bones, but realized only when his tears started to fall that it was actually a deep sorrow... a feeling of helplessness that he hadn't been able to identify because he'd never felt it before.

"We're together right now, that's all that matters," he said to the girl behind him, not turning around. His words were harsher than he'd intended.

"We can't just let her die." The girl's reply, soft with tears as well.

"Anything is better than going back. You said so yourself." Present-day Zack knew that his memory-self believed this, fully and unflinchingly, and he felt peace in this sense of confidence.

"I don't want to die." A tiny, strained voice, full of innocence and the embodiment of everything Zack believed in: family, life, freedom, love. "Please..." the voice implored; he recognized it. Brin. "Don't let me die." Slowly, as they reached a red light, Zack turned in his seat, his tears flowing freely, and met the eyes of a girl holding the frail and aged Brin from the jail cell in her arms. Immediately, he recognized her.

"Dogs," he told the younger version of the woman, who'd come to stand with him, looking out the barracks window. The brown-eyed child, five years old, came to stand next to him; he lifted her soft body into his arms. "Look," he said, and pointed out into the yard at the German Shepards being exercised. "There."

"What are they for?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, gazing at her. "Maybe a new training exercise for us. Maybe looking for something separate."

"They're scary," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry." His voice was soft, consoling, protective. He loved this child; he wouldn't allow any harm to come to her. Not to any of them.

The same girl, his littlest sister, nine now, lying on her stomach two beds down from his, watching their brother's shadow puppet show and smiling.

"She's already been shaking all day,” Ben said, looking at the nine-year-old. "We don't want what happened to Jack to happen to her." His sister's concerned brown eyes turned to Zack for answers.

"It's okay," he promised. He would make her safe. All of them; get them out of there, stop them from having to shed a tear or be afraid again, ever.

"Zack! A voice, high with fear and gentle with love at the same time. Though he sensed that his memory-self did not, present-day Zack made the connection immediately: this was the voice of the woman in the cell and later the car with Brin, the grown-up version of the girl he'd consoled and kept safe in the barracks and had been shaking the night he got them away from Manticore.

Zack was in Seattle again. He was holding a young man up in the air by his throat; something was oddly familiar about him, though his memory-self did not think so. The Zack who was remembering the event studied the man's face even as he choked him. No, it couldn't be... was it... Ben?

He felt his memory-self turn and pull a gun on his littlest sister, and back in the kitchen with Alyssa his heart quickened with fear. The young woman's face was that of the girl on the wanted poster; she was beautiful, and he loved her, though his memory-self did not because he did not recognize who she was.

"Zack," his sister spoke his name again, not showing any sign that she found it odd for him to be pointing a weapon at her. Present-day Zack didn't understand; why didn't he recognize his sister, and why was he choking his brother? "It's me," she said. "Max."

"Max." Zack's voice was excited as it cut through what Alyssa had been saying.

"What?" she asked slowly, cautiously.

"Max! That's my youngest sister." He sprung to his feet and Alyssa climbed quickly to her own. "Her name was Max!" Happily, he reached out without thinking and pulled her into a swift embrace, smiling with the excitement of a small child who has just won a spelling bee. She smiled; Adam was still there. Or maybe it had been Zack all along, simply uninhibited by past burdens that were now coming back and changing him.

"Max," he repeated, slowly lowering her back to the ground. "Her name is Max." He recalled the memory again, saw her face, her smile as she looked at him. Felt the shape of the man's- Ben's- neck in his hand. He'd been killing. He was trying to kill his brother. Why? Max had stopped him, but he had not recognized her. And his face...

"God!" he exclaimed suddenly, smile falling away, hand going to his smooth cheek. "What did they do to me?"

"What? Who? Manticore?"

"They hurt me. They made my face into something... grotesque. Ugly." His voice shook slightly and he swallowed hard at the memory.

"Hey," Alyssa laid a hand tenderly on his and squeezed his shaking fingers. "You're beautiful, Adam." He broke out of his trance and stared at her.

"Zack," he said, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"I- I'm sorry. I forgot." She flushed slightly. "Of course I meant Zack." He stood up from the table.

"I have to figure this out, find out who I am. Your way sounds too damned slow. I'm sorry." He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, not looking at her. "It's not your fault, but I have to get out of here. And you're coming with me."

"I am?" Alyssa's voice came out more nervously than she'd meant it to.

"Yeah, so you can help me out; you know, be there for me and all." He said it in a way that was between sarcasm and meanness. "Come on."

"Shouldn't we pack?" she asked, even as she followed him to the front door of the ranch-house. She was a little nervous and a little excited at the same time.

"No, we won't be gone long," he said, coming to stop beside the red pickup truck and opening the driver's door. Buddy smiled at them from the side paddock, where he was leading a young filly around in low circles.

"Doing that run now, Adam?" he asked.

"Yeah," Zack said, smiling. "Alyssa's going to come with me."

"Sounds good," Buddy said. Alyssa climbed into the passenger seat of the pickup.

"Where are we going?" she asked, buckling her seatbelt. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain. Then, the answer came to him, and he turned to her.

"Seattle," he said, starting the car and gripping the steering wheel determinedly. "I don't know why yet, but somehow this all leads to Seattle."

Chapter 4 - Mi Alma el Tuyo

"Slow down a little, Alec. I think we're almost there." Max grabbed the map from the dashboard and opened it, turning it around a few times to orientate it properly. Though to Alec the only purpose of driving was to do so very, very quickly, he obliged and slowed the convertible closer to the actual speed limit posted on the side of the highway.

"Thanks," she said sarcastically, finally finding the place she was looking for on the map. She glanced up at the road. "Turn here," she said, and a quarter-second later a street sign that proclaimed 'East Fairhaven Avenue' in big block letters shot by the window.

"That was the one!" she protested.

"That one?" He turned to give her a very fed up look. "Do you think you could have given me a little more warning?"

"I just looked at the map."

"And that's my fault how? I'm going about 60 miles an hour, here."

"I told you to slow down!"

"We were at the intersection when you said it!" he protested. Max calmed herself before retorting a reply.

"Sorry," she feigned sweetness. "Please turn the car around."

"I like it better when you yell at me,” he told her warily.

"You're never satisfied,” Max said sarcastically; he stopped the car and turned it around, heading down East Fairhaven Avenue. Max looked at the map again, glanced up at the road, and smiled to herself.

"You just passed the next turn-off, too,” she said. Alec did a U-turn wordlessly and headed down the street marked Cascade Highway.

"Do you want to drive?" he asked. "Because I know I can give better directions than this."

"Oh, now you want me to drive?" She patted his arm. "No thanks." Looking down at the map again, she told him, "Just keep on this road for about ten klicks. The next intersection we have to turn onto isn't till then, so don't worry, I'll give you plenty of warning next time."

Alec wasn't listening to her. He was focusing his enhanced vision on the face of the driver of the truck approaching then; he saw a young, blond man behind the wheel of a red pickup, a woman beside him, before the truck shot by them. Alec glanced in the rear view mirror to study the back of the man's head, and then he turned to his passenger.

"Hey, wasn't that-"

"Shh," she said, staring down at the map. "Let's see, is that right? Or should it be this one...?" Max muttered to herself as she traced their path on the map.

"Uh... Max?"

"Just a second, I've almost got it," she said, waving a hand at him.

"But Max-"

"Shut up, I have to concentrate," she interrupted.

"All right, fine," he said, shrugging and continuing to drive.

If she got to Zack's house and he wasn't there, he thought to himself as he drove along, she would probably start crying. That would be no fun for Alec, and would also likely lead to him getting his ass kicked after she stopped crying. Then again, if he told her that he'd seen Zack in time for her to meet up with him, then he would come off like someone who gave a damn, and he didn't see how that would benefit him in any way. Hmm... he weighed his options carefully in his mind, but finally decided that not getting his ass kicked should be his top priority.

"Max," he said as she continued to stare at the map. "Look, I-"

"I said shut up! It’s hard enough to concentrate in here with that engine roaring without your endless chatter."

"Fine!" he exclaimed, irritated now. You try and do something nice for someone, and they bite your head off! What was with this world? "I was just going to tell you that your precious brother isn't there. So sue me if I thought you'd be interested," he muttered under his breath, forgetting for a moment as he often did that she could hear just as well if not better than he could. Max slowly turned to him, and she looked hesitant. Alec's smirked; ahh, now there would be fun.

"What did you say?" she asked slowly. Alec smiled and rested his elbow on the door of his car.

"Oh, so now you're willing to listen to me?" he asked. “Well, I don't know if I feel like talking." She looked about ready to kill him, but smiled, making the situation even more humorous to him than it already was.

"Alec, please," she began sweetly, reaching over to pat his arm. Then her facade slipped off and she squeezed his bicep so hard he thought it might squish into jelly. His smile faltered. "Tell me what the hell you're talking about or I'll rip your pretty little head off!"

"I saw Zack back there driving a truck,” he spat out quickly. "He passed us a few minutes ago." He instantly regretted that he hadn't told her before when her anger fell away and her face paled. Is she going to cry? He winced at the thought. Oh, God, please don't let her cry. I really wouldn't know what to do if she cried.

Alec came to a stop that burned rubber and did a U-turn on the country road; momentarily, Max was distracted enough to simply gasp and hold on for her life- as well as not cry, much to Alec's relief. He proceeded to drive in the direction the truck went, doing about 100 miles an hour.

"Alec, I appreciate what you’re trying to do and all, but maybe you ought to slow down!" Max yelled over the roaring engine. "And put on your seatbelt!"

"You're never happy, Max,” he complained, but obliged her and slowed to 85; he ignored her second request. What does a genetically enhanced killing machine need a seatbelt for? It’s stuff like that that takes all the fun out of life. Safety, he thought. Who needs it?

Taking a turn in the road sharply, the car nearly rolled. Nearly, but didn't, and that would have been fine except that as soon as they cleared the bend he saw that Zack's truck was stopped about half a metre in front of them. Alec shot his hand out and shoved Max back against her seat as his eyes widened, and the convertible screeched its breaks, twisting on the road as he tried to avoid the truck.

But too late. The car rammed into the pickup, sending it into a tailspin, almost flipping over. Alec shot out of the car and hit the pavement hard, rolling several metres from the force of the impact; Max's seatbelt held her back as she grabbed the wheel to try and manoeuvre the car away from trees and Alec's crumpled body. The vehicle drove out of control down the street until finally slamming its front-end into a tree. Again, Max had her seatbelt to thank for her life.

Inside the truck, Zack had heard the screeching tires of the convertible car behind them as it nearly rear-ended them, felt the jolt as it hit them, heard Alyssa’s shrill scream. Zack watched the car careen away from them and almost flip, then saw the driver fly from the car. He watched tensely as the passenger still left in the car managed to steady it as it shot down the road. Alyssa was already jumping out of the car, and she ran to the body of the young man on the road, feeling for a pulse.

"He's alive," she said with relief as Zack joined her. Several metres down the road, the convertible slammed into a tree.

"Can I help?" he asked, looking down at the man.

"He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing. He's lucky his neck didn't break. His arm wasn't so fortunate, though," she said as she looked him over. "It looks like his shoulder's dislocated, too." Zack stared at the man face down on the road as Alyssa said, "Help me turn him over."

"Alyssa..." Zack breathed. "He has a barcode on his neck." She looked, and her eyes widened.

"Do you recognize it?"

"No, I can't remember specific barcodes." That frustrated him incredibly.

"Help me turn him over," she said again, and he did. When he saw the man's face, a lump caught in his throat.

"Tell us the story, Ben."

"Only the best soldiers get to go to the Good Place. The ones who fail... you know what happens to them?"

"They disappear."

"To the Bad Place."

"Ben,” he breathed. Alyssa looked at him.

"Are you sure?" she asked carefully. Ten years later and Zack’s brother just happens to collide with his truck on the very day that Zack has remembered his existence? That was just a bit to easy. Zack looked at her.

"We didn't go to the High Place tonight."

"The Blue Lady will understand."

"I don't think she will."

"Go to bed, Ben."

"I'm sure." He reached out and stroked the young man's head tenderly, and withdrew his hands when he felt his fingers become coated with blood. Alyssa touched his arm gently as he swallowed back the lump that had gathered in his throat.

"I think he’ll be okay, but we have to get him to a hospital."

"This is my fault."

"No it's not."

"I could have saved him."

"Zack, that's ridiculous. We had our hazard lights on. He was speeding."

"That's not what I’m talking about. I should have been there to help them. They need me. All this time I've been sitting on my hands at that stupid ranch" he broke off, swallowed hard, ran a hand through his hair.

"You couldn't remember anything. That's not your fault. Now we have to get him to a hospital. Come on, help me."

I am going to kill him, was Max's first thought after she tested her limbs to see if she could move them, and finally unbuckled her seatbelt. She pulled herself from the car and onto the road and suddenly froze as she caught sight of Alec's broken body, with Zack and a young woman tending to him. She swallowed hard and hurried toward them, dazed as she realized that she was about to see her brother again, who would not know who she was; she also hoped Alec was alive. She dropped to her knees beside them; immediately, Zack turned to her and managed a smile despite the situation.

"Max," he said, startling her. He recognized her? How was that possible? She stared at him, unable to speak.

"Zack, help me," the woman with him said. Max looked at her. How did she know his real name? No one was supposed to known Zack even existed; he was Adam now. Immediately, Max became very suspicious. Who was this woman, and what was she to Zack? She'd better not be from Manticore.

"Is he alright?" Max asked, finally regaining her voice.

"He'll be fine," Zack told her immediately. "We have to get him to a hospital." He took Alec's limp hand in his, startling Max. "Don't worry, Ben,” he whispered.

"Wha-?" she started, then bit her tongue. She didn't know how much Zack remembered yet: he thought Ben was still alive, and that said something. She couldn't risk saying something that would confuse him, or make him violent again. "Oh... Ben. Of course. Come on, let's help him." The woman with Zack- who was she, anyway?- gave her a strange look, but Max was too stunned from the accident and the fact that Zack remembered her to care. Zack lifted the unconscious Alec up in his arms and glanced over at the convertible, smashed up against the tree.

"That'll never run,” the woman said. “We'll take the ranch truck."

"It looks like it only seats two,” Max said. Zack nodded.

"One of you will have to sit in the back with Ben."

"Right," she stammered. "Of course. I'll do it." If Alec woke up, she had to be the one there with him so she could tell him what was going on, and so when Zack called him Ben he wouldn’t say something stupid, like he always did. Her head spinning, she climbed into the back of the truck, wrinkling her nose as a horrible smell assaulted her.

"Sorry about that, Max,” Zack apologized as she sat down. He laid Alec next to her, securing his head safely in her lap. "I was going to deliver this manure but, well, the accident." He shrugged. "Anyway, it's only an hour or so into Seattle from here."

"I'll survive,” she said; he turned away. "Zack-?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's your friend?"

"Alyssa," he said, turning back to look at her. Max didn't think that explained much, but they didn't have time for explanation. At least the mystery woman had a name now.

"It's good to see you," she managed, though it sounded lame to her ears. She was actually ecstatic to see him, and that he remembered her. Zack reached out and touched her cheek, then smiled tenderly at her and pulled her into an embrace.

"You, too, Maxie,” he said softly, and she felt tears prickling her eyes. He let go of her and went to the front of the truck, climbing into the driver's seat beside Alyssa. But before he started the car, he turned and slid open the cab’s back window.

"Where're we going?" he asked.

"Metro Medical Hospital,” Max answered. "There's a doctor friend of Lo- of mine there, knows all about us. Doctor Carr. He's trustworthy." She breathed an internal sigh of relief. Alyssa had stared at her fearfully as she almost mentioned Logan's name. How did she know that saying Logan’s name around Zack was dangerous, Max wondered. She couldn't believe she’d alomst done that, but Zack didn't seem to have noticed. He just nodded and started the car.

When they got to the hospital, Max sent Zack off to buy them all coffee from the cafeteria, and finally got a chance to talk to Alyssa. The two women sat down in the waiting room.

"So..." she began awkwardly. What could she say? She didn't want to say anything specific in case Alyssa really wasn't on their side.

"You don't know who I am,” Alyssa started the conversation for her, and held out her hand, which Max shook. "Alyssa McLean. Logan got me a job at the ranch just before Adam- Zack came. I'm a clinical psychologist specializing in victims of head trauma. I’ve also dealt with amnesiacs before.”

"Ah," Max said; that explained a lot. They talked some more; apparently Alyssa had been at the ranch to help Zack regain his memories, which he had been doing all day.

"You don't mind if I confirm all this with Logan, do you?" Max asked; Alyssa smiled.

"Not at all. I thought you'd want to," she said; Max headed to a pay phone with a lot of questions for Logan, and dialed his number. On the second ring, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello yourself."

"Asha?"

"Logan!" Horror and poorly-veiled disgust filled her voice.

"Oh, sorry. Max. I just wasn't expecting you. You said you'd be gone for a few days."

"Yeah. Well, I'm sitting here talking to someone who says she's a friend of yours. The name Alyssa McLean mean anything to you?"

"I see you found Zack. I thought you weren't going to talk to him."

"We had a little mishap,” Max said.

"Doctor Ross to emergency; Doctor Ross to emergency." The PA system.

"Why are you at a hospital?"

"Got in a car accident," she said, then quickly added, "I'm fine. Alec isn't so hot, though. He's probably going to be complaining a lot when he comes to." She smiled slightly at the thought.

"Sounds like you two aren't killing each other.” Humour touched his voice. “I was worried.”

"It's come close a few times," she said. "Anyway, tell me about this Alyssa person. She says you hired her on to help Zack? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up, in case he couldn't be helped."

"That's sweet, but I would have liked to know,” she said stiffly.

"I know; I'm sorry. I thought about telling you before you left, but... well, I wasn't sure if she'd gotten through to him this early and I couldn't get hold of her."

"Oh, she's gotten through to him alright," Max muttered.

"Really?"

"Yeah. He remembered me right away. She says he's been having memories all day. Except I don't think he's remembered everything yet. He thinks Alec is Ben."

"Oh." There was a pause. "You okay?" Max shrugged even though she knew he couldn't see her.

"I went along with it. I don't know if he even ever knew Ben was murdering people. Or that I killed him." Her voice caught. “We never talked about him, not once. It was like he never even existed.” She swallowed. “Until today.”

"That must have been hard," Logan said gently. Max saw Doctor Carr enter the waiting room and Alyssa stand up to talk to him.

"I gotta go, Logan, the doc's here," she said quickly.

"Oh- Okay. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up and hurried over to them.

"He's going to be fine," Doctor Carr told her. "He actually fared exceptionally well. I put a cast on the broken arm, and fit his shoulder back into place. I've asked a nurse to bring him out; he should be here momentarily."

"So he's awake, then," Max said.

"Awake and complaining." The doctor smiled.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked the ceiling. Doctor Carr turned and saw a nurse pushing Alec into the room in a wheelchair. Then the two of them left.

"Come on," Max said to Alyssa. "We'd better go talk to him before Zack gets back."

"Too late." Zack's voice from behind her startled her so much that she jumped.

"Oh! Zack." He was looking at her oddly. "Ben-" She got a handle on herself and smiled. "He's going to be fine." At this, a relieved smile spread over Zack's face; he caught sight of Alec and handed them their coffees before heading over to him. Alyssa went outside to pull the truck around.

"Ben, you're alright,” Zack said softly as he saw reached Alec, Max close on his heels.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Except for the fact that I-" Alec broke off his complaint and thought for a second. "Wait, what?" He shook his head. "No, I'm not-"

"Yeah, I'm glad you're okay, too,” Max cut him off quickly, pulling him into an awkward embrace. "I'm so glad you're okay, Ben."

"What-?" he said into her shoulder. "Ben? What are you-? Ah, ah, ah!" Max's hands dug into the shoulder-blade of his uninjured side, then she released him.

"Ben?" Zack asked, concerned at his outburst. Alec glanced at Max, who gave him an evil look, and he caught on.

"Oh..." He smiled a little at Zack. "Uh, yeah, that's my name. Don't... wear it out,” he finished lamely; Zack didn't seem to get the joke, but Max took his arm and led him a short distance away. Alec added under his breath, "What the hell was that?"

"So, Alyssa..." Max said to Zack on the other side of the room. "She nice?"

"Yeah. She's helped me."

"I've heard." She paused. "How much have you remembered, Zack?"

"A lot of it. I mean, it's still jumbled." He looked at her. "I remember you. I remember you when we were little. I protected you."

"You looked out for all of us."

"I was the CO," he agreed.

"You were our big brother." She touched his arm and he smiled slightly at her. “You still are.” Slowly, his smile faded.

"I remember Eva...” His voice was barely above a whisper. “She died."

"Lydecker killed her," Max said softly. "It was more than ten years ago, but I still miss her."

"I remember Brin dying. We couldn't save her. We let them take her back."

"Yes. We saved her life."

"We betrayed her."

"No."

"I'm sorry. If I had just done my job right-”

"Zack, don't," she interrupted, reaching for his hand. "You can't be everywhere at once."

"Look where I've been for the last two months!" He was angry; he pulled away from her. "Who knows what's happened to them?"

"They're okay," Max said, though she really didn't know if they were or not. She hadn’t even seen some of them since the night of the escape; didn’t even know who those brothers and sisters were. Some, she did know of. Like Syl and Krit, safe. But Tinga was dead. And Ben... she would have to tell him about Ben eventually.

"At least Ben's okay,” she heard Zack say.

"Yes," she said softly, blinking back tears. "Ben's okay."

Across the room, in the wheelchair, Alec sniffed the air a few times, then made a face.

"Max, can I grab you for a second?" he called over to her. She looked annoyed, but put a smile on and walked over.

"What?" she asked.

"What did you do to me, Max?" he told her, sounding disgusted. "I stink!" Max blinked, then smirked at him.

"Oh, so you've finally admitted it?" She started to walk away. He grabbed her arm.

"Ha, ha, very funny," he said. "No, I mean I stink." She leaned in to him.

"Sometimes that happens when you lie unconscious in a pile of manure for an hour being taken to a hospital. But you're welcome, Alec; don't mention it."

"A pile of-" he started to repeat, then stopped and sniffed again. "Ahhg! You stink, too!" he gave her a shove. "Get away from me already!"

"The car's here," Zack called, heading for the door; Max glared at Alec and took hold of the handles of his wheelchair, pushing him after her brother.

"Where's my car?" he exclaimed suddenly, surveying the parking lot and looking suspiciously at the red pickup truck waiting in front of them.

"Oh, we had to leave it on the side of the road,” Max said, watching his eyes fill with horror. "It was stuck to a tree."

"I'll stick you to a tree...” he muttered, getting shakily to his feet. He noticed the young woman in the driver’s seat and walked unsteadily over to her, smiling and opening the passenger door. “And who might you-“ Max slammed the door before he could get into the car. “What?”

"You'll have to sit in the manure with me," she told him cheerfully, reaching out a hand to steady him even as teased him.

"I have to?" he exclaimed. "I'm the one with a freaking concussion, here!"

"If you're well enough to complain you're well enough for anything."

"No, you see that's where you're wrong. I can complain even while unconscious. It's a very basic thing for me. It doesn't reflect on my well-being by any stretch of the imagination."

"Besides," she continued, ignoring him. "You already stink." Max added sweetly, "Now get in." Reluctantly, he climbed into the back with her and sat there disgustedly for the half an hour it took them to drive to Max's apartment.

"What the hell is up with the Ben thing?" he asked loudly as they drove; the window of the truck's cab was still open. She barely stopped herself from hitting him right in his stupid, concussed head.

"Shut up," she hissed at him.

"I think it’s a valid question,” he protested.

"I'll explain later," she told him softly, then glanced up to see Zack looking at her in the rearview mirror with a strange statement on his face.

When they reached her apartment, Alyssa let Max and Zack off at Max’s apartment and Alec climbed into Zack’s vacated passenger seat.

“He’s remembered so much,” she said to Max. “You don’t need me anymore.” She glanced at Zack, who was waiting for his sister and looking uncomfortably at Alyssa. She looked for the man she’ known in him for a moment, but there was no sign of Adam anymore. She stifled a sigh.

“Thank you for your help,” Max said sincerely, though she felt a little awkward, not knowing this woman very well at all.

“I’ll be in contact with Logan...” she told Max. “So I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Max said; Alyssa looked like she wanted to say something more, but bit her lip and said nothing. She waved at Max and Zack before she headed off to drop Alec off at wherever it was that he was living this week. Max didn't even know, nor did she want to know. She was glad that he was okay, though, as much as she hated to admit it.

"This is home," she told Zack as she opened the door of her apartment. She led him inside just as Original Cindy came walking in from her bedroom. She started at the sight of Zack.

"Hey there," she said after she'd recovered herself. Zack narrowed his eyes at her.

"I remember you."

"Good memories, I hope."

"Oh... yeah. Of course,” he answered awkwardly. In truth she was just familiar, not with any specific memories attached to her, but he didn't have any negative feelings toward her, so he supposed that was good. Cindy went into the kitchenette, bending down to get something to eat out of one of the lower cupboards.

"So, boo, you takin' him to Logan's?" Max's eyes widened in horror as Cindy slowly stood, realizing what she'd said. Max turned to her brother, praying that he hadn't heard; there was dead silence in the apartment for almost thirty seconds.

"Logan," Zack said slowly. Max's face paled. I can't believe you just said that! she screamed at Cindy with her eyes. Cindy looked as sorry as she was scared, and they both stared at Zack to see if he would make the dreaded connection. His face had gone slack; another flashback was hitting him, though the two women didn't know this.

Zack was in a very nice apartment, looking at the back of a man in a wheelchair, who sat in front of a computer. Zack felt overwhelming hostility toward this guy, but wasn't sure why. Then the man turned around, and suddenly the hatred wasn't only that of his memory-self, but present-day Zack as well. Words flashed through his mind: Bad, heinous, evil, traitor. This man was someone who wanted to kill Zack and hurt the ones he loved. Or, more specifically, a certain one he loved: the brown-eyed child, his littlest sister. Max.

"It's my responsibility to look after all of them." He looked away from Logan. "If I would have done my job, Brin wouldn't be in this jam." He cleared his throat. "So, what is it between you and Max?" He had to know, but didn't want to.

"I don't know," Logan said in a tone of voice that made Zack's skin prickle. "Something. I just don't know what."

"You really worried about Max?" Zack snapped. "The biggest threat to her safety is you."

"How do you figure?" Logan thought he was so right that he was actually smug. Zack hurried to set him straight.

"She should have gotten the hell out of Seattle a long time ago. She knows it's not safe here, but she stayed anyway, because of you." He was angry. "She ignored her training and let her judgement be clouded by feelings and emotions. And one day it's going to get her killed." For once, Logan had no clever answer, and Zack, satisfied, walked away.

"I'm going back." Max was defiant, crazy, a rogue. Zack was angry. She was going back? To Logan? Was she insane?

"No way."

"I need to be there for him."

"The mission is to get you over the border and into safe territory."

"Yeah, well, I'm changing the mission." Foolish, stupid, weak. It would kill her.

"Don't be crazy." He was angry, she was stupid, he was scared, he loved her. He was desperate. "Lydecker's got the entire city looking for you."

But she'd left, gone back to him, to Seattle. And Zack had be recaptured, sacrificed himself for her and went back to Manticore. She would be safe but he was hurt, abused, tortured.

"So, how come you didn't give me this contact number of yours so I could find you if I needed to?" Max, her voice wry. He looked at her.

"You know why."

"Because I haven't been a good little soldier and followed orders?" she asked; he smiled slightly.

"Something like that."

"Guess I won't be invited to the next x5 reunion,” she muttered. He sighed.

"You're too reckless, Max. I couldn't risk giving it to you. What if you got caught and Lydecker got it out of you?" He'd hurt her with those words.

"I'm too much of a liability to be trusted, is that it?"

"If you want to get on board with the way I do things it's not too late. First step, though, is leaving Seattle." He waited, and Max said nothing. Of course not. She would stay with Logan, even though he knew it would eventually get her killed.

Zack pointed at Logan. His eyes were angry as he looked at the man, and his body was injured. "Stay out of this," he snapped.

"He's been working against us the whole time!" He was yelling at Max; he was angry, he was devastated. She didn't understand. She was locked up, he would have saved her, but she was against him. Why was she against him? He loved her. "That's the reason the mission went wrong!" His mind screamed, It's the reason you and I died, Max!

"Just undo these handcuffs," she said slowly. "We can talk about it." Anger overwhelmed Zack. What was wrong with her?

"He's a traitor! Why don't you believe me?"

"You've got it all wrong!" her voice was desperate. "They did something to you back at Manticore!" Sorrow engulfed him. Yes, they'd tortured him at Manticore. Because of Logan. It was all Logan's fault, why couldn't she see that? It was his fault that he'd become the monster he was.

"I died for you!" Zack screamed, and she recoiled from him in pain.

"Max!" Zack was on a gurney, being wheeled into a hospital room. Max was on another gurney; he heard a flatline from her heart monitor. Hands were pushing him down; he struggled against them but he was too weak.

"Internal paddles," one of the doctors said. How could they be so calm? She was dying!

"Charge to 30." Another doctor.

"Charged.”

"Clear."

He heard them administer the paddles to her, and the jolt of electricity shot through her body. The flatline tone continued.

"30 again,” the second doctor said. The first one prepped the paddles once more. "Clear." They shocked her again, but still the dead sound of the heart monitor droned in the room. Zack watched on, panicked. He saw a woman walk into the room; he recognized her but he wasn’t sure from where. He stared at her, willed her to save his sister.

"What's her condition?" the woman asked as she gazed at Max, ignoring him. Zack held his breath.

"The bullet went clean through,” the first doctor said. "Her right ventricle is collapsed. She's gone." No, no, no, no, no, Zack's mind screamed. He looked at the woman. Save her!

"Is there damage to any other organs?" the woman asked; her voice was shaking slightly. The doctor shook his head, and she nodded brusquely. "Prep her for harvesting." A surge of horror and adrenaline shot through Zack; he ripped the flimsy gurney-straps holding him back and sprung to his feet, incapacitating a guard and sweeping up his gun. Then he managed to grab the woman even as she fled from the room, and held the gun on the doctors.

"Bring her back!" he yelled.

Though the memory stopped there because he couldn't face the rest of it, he knew: he'd died. Sacrificed himself to save Max. And now he understood: the reason that he'd had to die was because of him. Logan. Vile, treacherous, bad, evil, heinous.

"Logan," he said, hatred burning within him. He turned from the apartment, leaving the two women standing there, shocked. Heading into the hall, he was already formulating a plan to complete the mission he had only just remembered. Logan. Logan had hurt Max, hurt him; killed them both. Yet somehow Max didn't realize this. But no matter; he knew what his mission was now, and he wouldn't allow Logan to hurt any of them ever again.

Chapter 5 - Duras Verdades

"Zack, wait!" Max shot out of the apartment after telling Cindy to phone Logan just in case. Her brother was already halfway down the hallway, but he paused and let her catch up to him. "Where are you going?"

"You'll just try to stop me," he muttered, continuing down the corridor.

"Why? What are you trying to do?" She grabbed his arm, halting him. He looked at her; his eyes were filled with pain.

"Traitor!" Zack screamed at Logan, holding a gun on him. The man lay on the floor, waiting for the inevitable. Why wasn't he fighting...? Because he couldn't walk, the revelation hit Zack.

Suddenly, he was struck to the ground by someone on a motorcycle. The gun went flying from his hand, but when he regained his feet he headed for it quickly. Someone kicked him from behind, sending him tumbling to the ground a second time. He turned on his attacker. Max. Why?

"Zack don't do this!" she cried, grabbing him. What was she doing? Why was she protecting him? He betrayed them both! And now Max was betraying Zack. Why?

"You know," he said to her. Her eyes were desperate.

"Zack, there's a lot you don't understand. I'm sure this is very confusing for you, but we have to talk about it."

"Why are you trying to stop me, Max? He's the reason the assault on Manticore went sideways! He's the reason you and I died, and we don't even know if Krit and Syl got out okay!"

"They're fine," she said. He hesitated for a moment as relief flashed through his eyes. Then his statement hardened again and he resumed walking. She grabbed his arm, took his hand.

"Max, don't try to stop me!" Why didn't she understand? What was wrong with her?

"Please, Zack. Not everything you're remembering is right."

"I know what I remember. I know what my mission is."

"Your mission is to protect your brothers and sisters, Zack. I know that." She had to get through to him, make him understand. She couldn't lose him again.

"That's what I'm doing! Logan's a threat to all of us! He already got both of us captured, Max! We died because of him, how can you not see that?"

"No, that's not true." She touched his face but he pulled away. "Logan's a friend."

"I remember," he hissed.

"The biggest threat to her safety is you."

"Back off."

"You and Lydecker ran the operation while we went in."

"But not all those memories are true, Zack,” Max said gently. "Trust me. I'm your sister, I wouldn't try to stop you if Logan was going to hurt the rest of us. You know I love them as much as you do. You know that."

"If it's not true then why do I remember it?"

"I don't know what they did to you at Manticore, Zack, but I know it must have messed with your head pretty badly."

"My head is perfectly clear," he said icily.

"Zack..." She hesitated, then took a breath and looked away from him. "You've already remembered one thing wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ben," she whispered. He stared at her as she raised tear-filled eyes to look at him. "Zack, Ben's not okay."

"The doctor said he'd be fine, what are you talking about?" He didn't want to hear this. She was trying to trick him. But he did know that she loved them. Why would she trick him so he wouldn't be able to protect them? His mind whirled with confusion.

"That wasn't Ben." Max was crying now and it scared him. "That was Alec."

"What are you talking about? Who's Alec?" Zack narrowed his eyes at her. "That was Ben, I recognized him."

"Alec is X5-494. Ben was 493. They're twinned. I'm sorry. I didn't want to lie to you." For a moment Zack said nothing; then his eyes narrowed. "I just-"

"No."

"Zack-"

"No! You're working against me. You're trying to protect him!"

"Logan didn't do anything wrong! He's your friend, Zack, you have to trust me. You don't know what Manticore did to you!"

"Whatever they did to me, they did it because of-" Zack stopped as a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed. "Because of Logan." Max was looking at him strangely.

"You mean... because of me?" she breathed. Zack averted his eyes.

"No." He looked at her, touched her cheek. "I love you, Max."

"I know. But that doesn't mean you can't blame me." Zack turned away; he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault, it was his."

"Zack, it's okay. I blame me, too."

"No!" He grabbed her shoulder; his eyes were wild. "No, Max, it isn't your fault!"

"It's not your fault, either," she whispered. He let go of her and started to walk away.

"Zack!" she went after him; he ignored her. "Zack, please! Come with me somewhere. I can prove to you about Ben if you just come with me." He stopped walking, half-turned to look into her desperate eyes.

"Okay,” he said slowly. "I'll go with you, Maxie." Relief flooded her features, and he slowly followed her out to where her motorcycle was parked, not knowing which thought he dreaded more: Ben not being safe after all, or Max lying to him.

"This is where he brought his victims,” she said as she stood with Zack in the ruined interior of the abandoned factory. She and Zack had driven the entire way in silence. The place made her hair stand on end.

"Victims?" Zack swallowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Come with me," she said softly; he followed her further into the structure, until she led him to a room littered with debris. She pointed to one of the walls. A lump caught in Zack's throat as he read 'Duty,' 'Mission,' and 'Discipline' spray-painted on the rusty metal of the wall. He dropped to his knees in front of it and touched the words with a shaky hand.

"He never left," Max said softly. "All the time he was outside, he wanted to go back there."

"No." No, Zack had done the right thing getting them out of there... hadn't he?

"Yes," she insisted. "He told me."

"You saw him?" Zack turned to her. "You know where he is?" Her eyes had filled with tears; she was hugging herself.

"Zack." Her voice shook. "Ben is dead."

"No." He couldn't face what he was hearing; he fell back against the wall. Ben, dead? "No."

"I'm sorry,” Max was saying "I'm so sorry." Zack felt sick to his stomach; he let his head fall slowly into his hands. She dropped to her knees in front of him; after a moment, Zack registered that she was still sobbing. He reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"Ben is dead?" he whispered. Max nodded against his chest as she cried; his shirt was getting wet but he didn't care.

"We didn't go to the High Place tonight."

"The Blue Lady will understand."

"I don't think she will." So full of faith.

"Tell us the story, Ben."

"Only the best soldiers get to go to the Good Place. The ones who fail... you know what happens to them?"

"They disappear."

"To the Bad Place." So imaginative.

"They'll take him to the Bad Place and drink his blood. Then the nomlies'll take him away."

"The Blue Lady- why doesn't she protect him?"

"I'm going to the High Place. I'll ask her." So frightened.

Ben...

"What happened?" Zack managed to gasp. Max pulled back from him and wiped at her wet cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," she choked out. "I couldn't- I didn't want to. But I had to. They were coming. He begged me." She dissolved into tears again. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't remember him dying." His voice shook. "Why don't I remember, Max?"

"You weren't there," she sobbed; horror hit him. He should have been there. He should have been there to help Ben! Where had he been? Why couldn't he remember?

"Where the hell was I?" he asked, more harshly than he intended.

"I don't know," she choked out. "You never mentioned him, not once. I don't even know if you ever knew he'd made it out of Manticore."

"I knew," he whispered, suddenly remembering.

"Long time no see, Ben." That was it, all he said as the seventeen-year-old entered his bedroom, where Zack had been waiting for the past three hours. If his brother was surprised at his sudden appearance after- what had it been, five years?- he didn't show it. Zack was eighteen.

"Do you ever think about the Blue Lady?" Ben asked, sitting down on the bed next to him. Zack looked him over; he had grown a lot. He'd left this reunion way too long, but he'd been busy with Syl for almost four years trying to get her away from her abusive foster uncle. He still shook with rage every time he thought of the bastard that had done more than just hit his sister; she hadn't known how to deal with what had happened to her and he didn't have a clue either. They'd never taught him about that particular human sickness in Manticore. But he'd stayed with her for three years, until she was old enough to not have to go back into foster care. Then he'd left her because he'd neglected the others for far too long.

"She was just a story,” Zack said, answering Ben's question even as his eyes warily surveyed the various Virgin Mary icons gracing the walls of over the bed. They worried him. "Are your foster parents treating you alright?"

"Yeah, they're fine,” Ben said after a moment; he turned to his brother, and there was something in his eyes that Zack had never seen before.

"She was just a story,” Zack repeated; Ben gazed at him for a moment, then glanced away.

"Are you here to tell me my position's been compromised again?" he asked; Zack heard a slight shake in his voice and cringed at the sound. He knew that having to leave Arizona when he was twelve had been the hardest thing Ben had ever had to do. But Lydecker had been on to him. Zack cursed himself; he should have checked up on him before now! He looked at the Virgin Mary pictures again and shivered slightly.

"No, I just came to see if you were okay,” Zack said; Ben turned to beam up at him, looking for a moment like the twelve-year-old boy Zack had last seen him as.

"Really?" His eyes were so full of hope, but that something else was still there too. It scared Zack; what was it? He clapped his little brother on the shoulder.

"Of course."

"I couldn't tell you. I didn't know how you'd react. I wished you could have been there with me, Zack. Together we could have gotten him out of there. I should have tried. But I couldn't. I was so scared. He begged me. His eyes..."

"Max, what happened?" he asked softly, not knowing if he really wanted to hear. Slowly, through her tears, Max related the entire awful story to him. By the time she was done, Zack was crying too.

"I'm sorry," Max said again. "I'm so sorry." Zack touched her face.

"They would have killed him," he managed. "It was good of you to let him die with someone who loved him."

"I did love him,” she said desperately. "But I never told him."

"He knew," Zack said firmly. Max fell into his arms again.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"Shshsh." He stroked her hair. "It's okay." Suddenly, another flashback hit him.

Zack was hugging Max. It was night, they were by the ocean, the stars were out. He held onto her tightly and felt almost content. Her hair smelled like strawberry and something that was distinctly her.

It was night again. They were in a cave. He was cold, he was dazed, afraid, but she was helping him. She was so happy to see him.

"You called me, right?" Max was trying to make him feel better about something. "You remembered my number." What? Oh no- his present-day self suddenly realized. No, no, no, no, no. He'd forgotten everything about the others- he didn't know where they were, how to protect them. He'd failed them all!

"It's not the same," his memory-self told Max, agitated.

"Yes,” she said firmly. “You can do it if you try."

"No, it's different with you!" Didn't she understand? He sat down next to her. "I mean, how could I forget... a single thing about you?" He gazed at her. "How could I?"

He leaned in to kiss Max, but she pushed him back. His memories were clouded; he didn't understand.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her face. Was that fear in her eyes, or... disgust? "I love you. I just want things to be the way they used to be with us."

Zack was in a cabin with Max; he had poured them both wine and now he was sitting facing her. He felt happy for the first time in years. She looked sad, and he wanted to cheer her up.

"I remember the morning of the escape getting into Cheyenne around 7:00 AM." He had never told Max anything about his life after the escape before, and he sensed that she knew this moment was rare; sacred. He got a far-off look in his eyes thinking of that day. "The streets were just starting to fill with people. Not soldiers or doctors, just regular people on their way to work. It scared the hell out of me. As far as I was concerned, they were all the enemy and I was completely outnumbered." Max smiled.

"I know the feeling."

"I climbed up onto the roof of an office building in downtown to lay low just as the sun was coming up. It was my first morning as a free man. The whole world looked different."

"It was like it was in colour all of a sudden," Max said softly, echoing his own thoughts. He looked at her; she had always understood him. He reached out a hand to sweep a loose lock of hair from her face. She was gazing at him softly, her beautiful eyes thoughtful. She loved him, he could see it.

Zack pulled away from Max, uncomfortable. What the hell was that? he wondered. She was his sister, wasn't she? Not biologically, he knew, but... he shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." He stood up, still not looking at her. She stood with him, touched his arm.

"Zack-" He pulled away, startling her.

"I have to go."

"I can't let you. Logan-"

"I know,” Zack cut her off. Then, more gently, "I know. They did something to my head."

"That's right," she said cautiously. He looked at her, finally, and swallowed hard. Zack reached a hand out to touch her hair, but stopped himself. He cleared his throat.

"It messed me all up."

"Yeah." This was going a lot better than she'd thought it would. It was going too well.

"I love you, Max," he tested.

"I love you, too, Zack," she said; this confused him even more.

"I have to go," he repeated. She hesitated, then slowly nodded. She watched him leave, and wished desperately that she knew what was going on inside his head so she could help him.

Leaving the abandoned warehouse, Zack wasn't paying attention to where he was going and collided with someone as he exited the structure. He glanced up, and his face paled.

"Alec," he managed. The man looked surprised.

"Uh... yes?" He sounded uncertain.

"You're Alec, aren't you?" Zack said.

"Um... sure." What was he supposed to say? He'd shown up here because Cindy had said this was where he could find Max, though he didn’t know why she would want to come to this place. He wanted to get the whole Ben thing cleared up. But now here was Zack, calling him Alec. Names were annoying.

"Sure?" Zack repeated; he sounded suspicious. "Either you're Ben or you're Alec."

"Oh, I don't know..." he almost whined it. "Call me whatever you want." Zack thought about this for a second, then glanced back at the warehouse, where he'd left Max.

"Does Max- I mean, do we..." He hesitated. "What was it between me and Max? I mean, before I lost my memory and everything." Alec smirked.

"Oh, she digs you, man. Besides, she and Logan can't touch. You should go for it." He slapped his shoulder congenially. What he'd said didn't make a whole lot of sense to Zack, but it seemed like he was telling him something that he wasn't sure he knew what to do with.

"So... we're not brother and sister?"

"Nah. Max just likes to call people that. I don't know, gives her the warm fuzzies or something." He shrugged. "Who knows what goes on in that crazy mind of hers, huh?" Zack took this in, and nodded slowly.

"Thanks..."

"Sure. No problem." Alec or Ben or whoever he was went into the old factory, and Zack looked after him with suspicion. Had Max been lying to him about Ben? This guy didn't seem to know if he was Alec or Ben, as though he'd been told to call himself something he wasn't and couldn't remember the specifics of the order... And now he was going to see Max. That was just a bit too suspicious. But why would Max lie to him? He knew she was protecting Logan, but what did Ben have to do with that? It seemed an elaborate act, pretending to have murdered your own brother just to convince Zack that he might not be right about Logan.

Zack turned from the warehouse, and headed for Logan's. Maybe he could ask the guy for answers; and if he gave the wrong ones... well, then Zack would kill him. He remembered the name of the place, almost- Fog Tower, Foggle Tower, Fogle Towers? He stopped at a payphone and opened the directory, scanning the listings. That was it! Fogle Towers. He read the address, stopped someone for directions, and then set off. His was much more content with a clear mission in place, and he didn't want to think about his newly-recovered memories of Max, which seemed to indicate that he wasn't her brother at all, but something more.

When Zack reached Fogle Towers, he entered through the door because he couldn't remember which condo was Logan's and he didn't want to be jumping into a thousand windows looking for the guy. Luckily there was only one Logan listed on the sign outside, one Logan Cale, with the biggest apartment in the place. Zack went inside and headed up to the penthouse.

Slowly and noiselessly, Zack pushed the door open and surveyed the place. It was well-decorated, neat, and ritzy. He moved through the foyer into the living room, and caught sight of the shape of Logan, sitting with his back to Zack at his computer. Zack had an urge right then to kill him, but if what Max said was true then she would never forgive him for it, and he couldn't deal with that. He noticed that Logan was on the phone, and waited impatiently for him to finish.

"I want to know exactly what's done in those types of situations," Logan was saying to whoever it was he was talking to. "I want to know the procedures, the medication given during the procedures, and how to reverse the effects." He paused and waited for an answer. "There has to be a way... Well, think of something." He waited again. "No, you don't need to know that. Because I said so. Just do this for me and Max will be willing to meet with you. I'll convince her to trust you. And Lydecker-" Zack's eyes widened as rage filled him. He clenched his fists. "This is to be done covertly." Logan paused. "I know, but it's gotta be said. Yeah. Bye." Logan hung up the phone, and Zack cleared his throat; Logan turned around and his eyes widened in fear.

"Zack-" What was he doing here? Max had just phoned him to say that Cindy's call had been a false alarm.

"Making a little deal with the devil?" he said icily, taking a step toward the frightened man.

"Oh no, Zack, you don't-" Logan started, but Max's brother grabbed hold of Logan's neck.

"Traitor," he hissed.

Chapter 6 - Amante y Traición

"Max?" Alec glanced around the interior of the abandoned warehouse, searching for her. She came out of the shadows to his left, shoved her hands in her pockets.

"What do you want?" she asked. "I figured you'd be sleeping or something."

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," he muttered, walking over to her. "I ran into Zack outside."

"Yeah?" she sighed. "I'm worried about him. I wish I knew how to help him." She looked at him, smiled sadly, shrugged. "Sorry. I know you don't care." She was uncomfortable with him in this place, looking so much like Ben and bringing back painful memories she didn’t want to recall.

"If it helps, he told me where he was going," Alec said, then instantly regretted the words as he belatedly realized the significance of Zack's destination. Max looked at him.

"Where did he go?" she asked; Alec didn't answer for a moment. He was too busy trying to think of a way to save his neck. Max narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Alec?"

"Hang on, I'm thinking," he said.

"Alec, where did he go?" Max repeated her question, and this time her voice was dead serious. Alec avoided her eyes, but she grabbed his arm. He winced as renewed pain from his injuries shot through his body, thinking it not at all fair that she be trying to beat him up this soon after his accident.

"He went to Logan's," he finally said; Max's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"How should I know? He was talking like a freaking psycho, going on about you, and then said he was going to Logan's." He shrugged, slightly bored with the topic already. A thought hit him suddenly. "Hey, you wanna get some pizza?"

"Alec, what exactly did Zack say?"

"If I tell you can we get pizza?"

"No, but if you tell me then I won't kick your ass right now."

"Okay, that sounds pretty good," he said, then quickly continued, "First he called me Alec, which really threw me off because I thought I was supposed to be Ben around him..." He shrugged. "Well, anyway, so I told him he could call me whatever he wanted, but that didn't seem to make him very happy." He looked at her. "Max, have I ever told you that your brother can be really-"

"Just get on with the story, Alec," she hissed. This was far worse than she had imagined it could be, and she'd imagined the frightening scenario of Alec talking to Zack without her supervision as a bad one.

"Right." She was so rude. "Anyway, so after that he started babbling something about you and him, wondering if you were really brother and sister. I told him that you two could really hit it off, you know, especially with you and Logan and the virus and everything..." Max's face paled as she heard this. "That seemed to confuse him more than anything else, and then he sort of wandered off. I asked him where he was going, and he said Logan's. Then I came inside to find you." Max stared at him for a few moments, amazed at his unfaltering, continued ability to ruin her life.

"Give me your phone,” she said after she'd finally recovered. He handed her his cell and she dialed Logan's number. It started to ring; while she waited, she turned to glare at him once more.

"What?" he asked, after she'd been staring at him for almost a full thirty seconds. It was unsettling him; what was her problem?

"Alec," she began, not at all calmly, "Tell me how it is that you talked to Zack for under ten seconds and yet may have succeeded in destroying any chance for us to have an uncomplicated familial relationship, as well as possibly putting Logan in mortal danger?" She waited. "Well?!"

"What can I say?" he shrugged, more amused than ashamed. "It's an art, Max. I'll teach you sometime."

"No thank-you,” she spat at him, hanging up after what must have been the tenth ring. Then she took Alec by his injured arm, and hauled him painfully out to her motorcycle.

Logan choked as Zack's grip tightened around his neck; his mind whirled, trying to stay conscious and think of a way to stop Max's brother from killing him at the same time. Zack's determined eyes bored into his frightened ones.

Suddenly, the telephone rang. Zack ignored it, tightening his hand around Logan's neck even more. It rang eleven times before the answering machine finally picked up; luckily for Zack, the volume was turned down so he didn't have to listen to whoever would call this lowlife traitor son of a bitch. He concentrated on the mission at hand.

But then the computer started beeping. Zack turned to glare at it, and read 'Satellite link established. Press enter to transmit.' His eyes narrowed, but Logan's hand shot out and tapped the 'enter' key before Zack could react. Immediately, the Eyes Only image appeared on the screen- Logan's eyes with red and white banners around them.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin..." the transmission began. Zack swallowed hard, his eyes widening as a memory hit him.

Zack was filled with purpose as he stood in the shooting booth, his hand holding a gun outstretched toward an image of Eyes Only. He fired, again and again and again, hitting the bulls-eye every time: right in the centre of Eyes Only's face. He sensed the doctors standing behind him, heard their impressed comments. Manticore... he was in Manticore.

Logan was looking at him; Zack slowly met his eyes. The doctors in Manticore had wanted him to kill Logan... why? For the first time Zack started having doubt about what he was doing; his grip on Logan's neck faltered slightly, and Logan was able to breathe again.

"Zack?" he asked tentatively after a few moments. For a guy who was just about two seconds from death, he was pretty calm. It annoyed Zack.

"... traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city,” the transmission continued on the screen. "New information has come to light about the Project Manticore Facility. Manticore-trained doctors and scientists have been performing covert procedures on prisoners involving mind control, employing techniques such as exposure to propaganda and subliminal messages, torture, and psychological manipulation. All this is done in order to turn the prisoner into an obedient slave ready to do Manticore's bidding. Recently, a failed attempt on the life of a high official in the Eyes Only informant net was carried out by one such prisoner." An image of the Manticore chimera symbol like the one that Zack had drawn for Alyssa appeared with the caption '330417291559.' His barcode number. Rage engulfed Zack and he let go of Logan, slamming his hand down on the desk.

"You're betraying me right now!" he yelled. He pointed a finger at the computer. "Turn it off!"

"I can't," Logan said.

"Wrong answer," Zack bit out, and reached out a hand to snap Logan's neck. "Listen to it, Zack,” the man said quickly. Zack glared at him, but something made him stop. Why? Because Max trusts him, the answer came to him. He listened.

"Members of the Manticore staff have perpetrated crimes against this individual; but he has escaped you. And now, the tables have been turned: Manticore wants you dead for the information you have. Only you know how to reverse the wrongs that have been done to this man. This message is going straight to you, right out of Seattle and across the United States. Eyes Only knows who you are, and you will be punished. Come forward, and a deal may still be possible." Slowly, Zack lowered his outstretched hand and looked at Logan; confusion entered his eyes as he stared at the man.

"You're helping me?"

"That's right."

"But- I just heard you." He shook his head. "You were talking to Lydecker…"

"A lot's happened since you've been gone, Zack," Logan said. Without any way to verify this, Zack was hesitant to either believe or disbelieve him. But he certainly didn't trust him. But Max does, his internal voice reminded him. Shut up, he told it.

"I know my mission," he said, but he sounded more confused than sure now.

"Who gave you that mission, Zack?" Logan asked. Zack stopped, looked at him, searched his mind.

He was strapped to a chair; a laser was burning into his eye. He tried to close it, protect himself, but there was something holding his lid open. He was in pain; such terrible pain. His entire being was saturated with agony. And on the screen behind the laser, a picture of Eyes Only. Words flashed across the screen: 'Enemy,' it said. 'Target,' 'Agitator,' 'Subversive,' 'Traitor,' 'Turncoat,' 'Traitor,' 'Betrayed,' 'Traitor,' 'Enemy,' 'Enemy,' 'Target,' 'Target.'

Later, he was sitting down at a table, in an office. His mind was clouded; he couldn't remember anything except the words and the image of Eyes Only on the screen. He hated Eyes Only. The same woman who he'd held hostage in the medical bay while Max lay dead slapped a picture down on the table in front of him. He looked down at it; Eyes Only.

"Your mission," she said, "is to eliminate the target."

"Eliminate the target," he repeated emotionlessly. Slowly, a smile spread over her features. She motioned to someone behind Zack, and a man came and led him back to his bunk.

"Who was it, Zack?" Logan asked again; Zack backed away from him.

"It was..." He swallowed hard. "It was Manticore." He looked down at his hands with wild eyes; they were shaking.

"But Manticore is the enemy," Logan feigned confusion.

"I know that!" he snapped. Was he mocking him? But Logan did not look amused.

"Zack, they did something to you. I'm your friend but they wanted you to kill me. If you do it then you'll be working for them again."

"I..." He swallowed once more. "We escaped."

"That's right. You don't have to do what they tell you anymore."

"They're the enemy," he repeated Logan's words.

"Yes. Not me."

"You betrayed us," Zack said slowly. "I remember. You and Lydecker were working together. Against us. Max died..."

"Yes, she died." Logan stood up, startling Zack. Wasn't this guy supposed to be in a wheelchair? Maybe his memories really were messed up... "She died in my arms."

"You killed her," he insisted, but the argument sounded weak now even to his ears.

"No. She died because she went back for Brin. Both you and I thought she shouldn't have done that, but she wouldn't listen."

"Brin..." Zack trailed off.

"That's a beautiful drawing, Brin."

"Thank you, Zack." Dark almond eyes gazing up at him, small smile on beautiful face, voice full of love.

"Hello?" he picked the phone up off the kitchen counter in his apartment; he was in San Diego but he was getting sick of the tourists, thinking of moving on soon. He grabbed a handful of popcorn out of a nearby bowl and shoveled it into his mouth as he waited for whoever had called him to respond.

"Hey, it's me, Brin." She sounded frightened; she was breathing hard. He swallowed the food in his mouth. What was she doing calling him?

"What?" he almost growled.

"I know I'm not supposed to contact you," she said, echoing his thoughts. "But I had no choice." Zack threw away the bag of popcorn and leaned forward in his chair, eyes hardening. "I had a close call with Lydecker's people in LA," she continued. "I need your help." The shake in her voice was so slight that anyone who didn't know her as well as he did would have easily missed it.

"Tell me," he ordered.

"I'll explain everything when I see you." Her voice was hurried; he didn't waste any time.

"Meet me in the alley behind that Pakistani restaurant we went to last year; do you remember?"

"When?" she asked. He glanced at the clock, estimated how long it would take to get to her.

"Tomorrow," he told her. "Eight a.m."

"I'll be there," she said, and hung up. Zack stood immediately, put his few possessions together in a duffel bag and placed an envelope containing next month's rent in cash for the landlord by the door. Then he left San Diego and never looked back.

"I don't want to die." His sweet baby sister: beautiful, hopeful, innocent, kind, thoughtful, loving, doomed. "Please... don't let me die."

Zack hurried through the halls of Manticore, Max close on his heels. The radio silence was suddenly broken by Logan's voice.

"Syl, Krit, unfriendlies behind you. 25 metres and closing."

"Take them out." Lydecker's emotionless order. Zack heard gunshots over the comm as he and Max continued through the facility. The target was primed; all they had to do was get to the perimetre so Lydecker could detonate and Manticore would cease to exist. Or so Logan had promised; Zack thought that was a little too easy. But there wasn't time for worrying about that now; he glanced behind him and saw that Max was still safely in tow.

"It's Brin,” Lydecker's voice crackled in his ears. "She's heading for the lab."

"Which way is she coming?" he heard Max ask, both in his ear on the radio and behind him in person. He whirled on her, his hopes for a clean mission falling. This was why he couldn't be sure about her, couldn't give her the contact number, couldn't trust tell her with where the others were. She let emotions rule her too much and he wasn’t going to let it get her killed.

"They're onto us!" he yelled at her. "There's no time!"

"I won't let her take one for good old Manticore!" She was angry; for a moment, Zack almost agreed with her and that scared him. He was losing his objectivity. Max whirled on a nearby surveillance camera, addressing Logan. "Which way?"

"Back the way you came, first corridor on your left," Logan's voice came after a short pause; Zack cursed him inwardly for giving Max information that could easily get her blown up along with the lab or, at the very least, captured. Max turned to him.

"Go," she said firmly; for a moment, he looked at her, torn between the thought of leaving her to who knew what fate and knowing that he had to go and see if Syl and Krit were okay. Part of him was also surprised that she was giving him an order, and saying it like a natural. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

In the end, after deliberating for a split-second, he left. It was the biggest mistake of his life: bigger than giving Brin back to Manticore, bigger than letting Tinga have a family, bigger than leaving Ben alone for five years when he needed him most and coming back only when he was already lost. Zack turned and ran in the opposite direction, not knowing that the next time he saw Max she would be dead.

Zack was firing into the trees; he was in the yard of Manticore. The X7s were converging fast on his position; he didn't know how they moved so fast. They didn't even seem to be communicating.

"Do you know who I am?" Max's voice suddenly came over the comm. A moment later he heard a shot off in the distance and on the radio, and his heart quickened with fear when Max said nothing more. He shot again into the bushes as he caught sight of a twelve-year-old clone of Jondy through the foliage. A bullet ripped into his shoulder, catching him off-guard, and he fell to the ground, hitting hard. Instantly, several X7s, one a copy of Max a little younger than the Jondy clone, converged around him, holding their guns emotionlessly on him as he stared at them, dazed. He looked up at a clone of himself at fourteen and searched for some recognition in the boy's eyes. But there was none. The night was cold, and no stars graced the cloudy heavens.

Zack was handed over by his likeness and the clones of his brothers and sisters to guards, who transferred him to a gurney and wheeled him into a hospital emergency room within the Manticore facility.

"Max!" he yelled as he caught sight of her on another gurney; her skin was pale and blood had trickled from her nose and crusted against her face. She didn't respond to his yell; he heard a flatline from her heart monitor and his own heart jumped with fear. Hands pushed him down as he struggled against the flimsy nylon restraints holding him to the gurney. He wanted to go to her, wake her up, but they pushed him back and he was too weak to resist them.

"I remember," he said slowly to Logan. "Brin was turned. She was trying to stop us from completing the objective. Max went back to save her. She still loved Brin, but I knew she wasn't one of us anymore... Max made it out, but the X7s caught her in the yard. They caught me, too,” he hesitated. "I saw her- on the gurney. She was dead."

"You saved her," Logan agreed. Zack looked at him, and he repeated, "You saved her life. You looked out for her."

"Zack, Zack... wake up." Zack's eyes snapped open and he stiffened, anticipating danger. He threw the blankets off himself and onto the floor, sitting up, surveying the room quickly. He wasn't prepared for Max's frightened face gazing at him from the end of his bed, with the room around her silent and still.

"What's wrong?" he asked, now fully awake; he moved down the bed on his knees to get a better look at her. He made out tears in her eyes with his night vision as she looked at him from the between the metal bars of his bed's footboard. Max came around to the side of his bed and climbed up onto it. She curled into a ball and laid her head on his knees.

"I saw Jack," she whispered; her shoulder was shaking when he laid a hand on it, but not from any seizure. "Ben was right. He was in the Bad Place. They were drinking his blood."

"Max..." He wanted to say 'you should have stayed in bed,' but something stopped him. He squeezed her shoulder through the government-issue gown. The way she was lying gave him a clear view of her barcode, and for some reason tonight looking at it troubled him, though he'd seen it thousands of times before. He extended a hand to touch it; Max shivered.

"I'm scared, Zack," she whispered. Zack reached down and picked up one of the blankets that had fallen to the floor in his haste to sit up, and wrapped it around Max's shoulders. She hugged his ankles with her small hands; her fingers were like ice. Her teeth were chattering.

"Don't worry," he said, laying his palm on her head gently. Her hair was almost an inch long; Lydecker would be getting someone to cut it off again soon. Max's hair always grew so fast. Zack wondered briefly what she'd look like with the long hair some of the nurses had but shrugged off the thought.

"What if they take me away?" she asked, voicing the concern that Zack himself felt for his littlest sister. She shook almost as much as Jack had; Zack worked hard to hide this fact from the guards, as he did when any of the others had seizures. But it was inevitable that one day she would shake while outside the safety of their off-duty time in the barracks, just as Jack had. And then he would not be able to protect her anymore.

This was why Zack was planning an escape. Max didn't know about it; neither did Brin or Zane or most of the others. Ben had found out accidentally with Jace one night, which irritated Zack because it meant that he had not been able to properly maintain op-sec. He had intended only to keep the plan between himself, Jondy, and Eva. Jace was frightened of it, and Ben seemed to disapprove, but as for the others- he knew they would follow his orders when the time came. They were going to wait until the first warm day of spring; Zack worried that it was too cold for them to attempt it in the winter, and many of the guards took vacation during the spring so security would be more lax if they waited until then.

"Zack?" Max's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What if they take me away?" she asked again, this time more fearfully. She'd thought his silence had been doubt, but Zack never doubted.

"Don't worry," he said, stroking her head gently. He liked the way the short hair felt against his hand, and the gesture seemed to calm her slightly. Her teeth stopped chattering, and she snuggled down further into the blankets. "I'll take care of you, Maxie," he whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"I promised I would protect her." Zack's voice shook slightly as he spoke, and it was so soft that Logan almost had to strain to hear his words.

"You didn't let her down," he said. "Even if it meant going back to Manticore, even if it meant dying, you still always came through for her."

"What did they do to me?" Zack breathed. "I- I thought I was dead, but they fixed me up, turned me into something else..." He touched his chest, and murmured in a pained whisper, "I don't even have a heart anymore."

"You still have a soul, though. That's what counts, Zack." A voice from the doorway; Zack whirled and saw Max, her eyes filled with tears, Alec or Ben or whoever behind her, rolling his own eyes at her emotion-filled words.

"I heard the nurses talking about souls again today," Brin said; it was way past lights out, but none of them could sleep. Ben had just told one of his scariest stories yet, but Zack wouldn't let on that he was as frightened as any of them. So instead, he focused on keeping the others in check.

"Stop worrying about that, Brin," he said. She was too sensitive; this was the third time she'd brought up the question of whether or not they had souls, and it annoyed Zack. But what he wouldn't admit, what annoyed him more, was that he didn't yet have an answer for her.

"I want to know, too,” Jondy said stubbornly.

"What does it matter?" Jace asked. "We're us, that's who we are. Who cares if we have souls or not?"

"It matters," Max said softly. She was even more sensitive, more emotional, than Brin.

"We do," Ben said firmly. "Everyone has a soul."

"How do you know?" Krit challenged; Krit was always challenging, always tough. Zack liked that; he always excelled in his training because of his confrontational nature, though he had to be kept in check more often than the others. But no matter; it was the mark of a good soldier.

Ben shrugged, not bothering to answer Krit's question. Zack was glad; he had heard enough of Ben's stories for one night, and it irritated him that sometimes his siblings couldn't get enough of them. More often than not after an evening of particularly frightening tales, the night ended with a huddled group of five or six frightened children piled into Zack’s bed. A result which always occurred in this situation was that Zack himself got no sleep, though he always noticed Ben snoring contentedly in his own bed. But the others never learned, and he couldn't understand it.

"What do you think, Zack?" Max fixed pensive eyes on him, hauling him out of his thoughts. As soon as she asked this, all the children turned to him: waiting, expectant, patient. They wanted his answer, and what he said would be fact. He looked at them, their young faces; their loving, trusting eyes.

"Of course we have souls,” he answered firmly. He wanted them to be happy. "We're good soldiers." He wanted them to go to sleep. At this, both Max and Brin averted their eyes from him, and he suddenly and curiously found himself ashamed.

"Max..." Zack dropped his hand from his chest.

"Oh, that's a shame." Sarcasm; Zack had never found a use for it, but Alec certainly seemed to from what he had observed, and quite regularly. "It looks like you were wrong, Max. No rescue mission needed here,” Alec remarked, sounding bored at this turn of events. "Logan has actually taken care of himself for a change."

"Shut up, Alec," Max said in a distracted voice. She walked over to Zack, tossing Logan a smile as she passed him, relieved that he was alive. She touched her brother's arm.

"It's okay," she said softly; Zack's eyes blurred with tears that he tried unsuccessfully to blink back. Alec looked uncomfortable, and after glancing around the room for several moments, he turned and left. Max reached up to hug Zack.

"I'm sorry, Max," he whispered into her hair.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," she said. She looked sadly at Logan over Zack's shoulder and repeated, with more emphasis, "Nothing. And you're home now."

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Max," he said. "I've been so confused."

"I don't blame you," she answered gently, pulling back from him and managing a smile. "I didn't know how to handle any of this either." She glanced down at her hands. "I didn't want to lie to you, Zack. But I didn't know how much you'd remembered. I was so scared that the same thing as the first time you came back would happen again." She looked up at him; her voice shook slightly. "I wished I could have made you understand- I didn't know what they'd done to you until it was too late." Zack listened to her, heard the pain in her voice, but didn't know how to comfort her because he didn't understand what she was saying. "And when the doctor said you'd go after Logan again-" Zack's head reeled as she said this.

He was strapped to a chair; a laser burned into his eye. He tried to close it, protect himself, but there was something holding his lid open. He was in pain. And on the screen behind the laser- a picture of Eyes Only. Words flashed across the scree. 'Enemy,' 'Target,' 'Agitator,' 'Subversive,' 'Traitor,' 'Turncoat,' 'Traitor' again, 'Betrayed,' 'Traitor' a third time, 'Enemy,' 'Enemy' repeated, 'Target,' and 'Target' again.

The Steelhead known as British Eddie hooked him up to the blood-filtering machine, smiled down at him; Zack cleaned the weapon in his hands emotionlessly and paid no attention to Eddie's grin, nor to his hand when it clapped him on the shoulder.

"You look right pretty, my boy without your skin and all," the man said, turning to his blue-haired friend for agreement, who smiled and nodded like the idiot Zack had observed him to be. "Makes you look cool," Eddie added; Zack made no response, so the man shrugged and walked away.

"Zack!” Max's voice, high with fear and gentle with love at the same time. He was holding Alec in the air by his throat; he turned on Max and pointed his gun at her, not realizing who she was. "Zack,” his sister spoke his name again, her voice filled with hope. Still, he did not remember her. "It's me," she said, begging with her eyes for him to recognize her. "Max."

"Who are you?" he asked, emotionlessly.

"Zack, it's me." This time he could hear barely-contained tears in her voice. "Zack? It's Max." Zack had begun to remember: this was Max, a girl he'd grown up with, a girl he'd protected, one of the soldiers under his command.

"You're an X5," he told her; she stared at him. "Show me your barcode."

"Max, show it to him already," he heard Alec choke out as he held him aloft in the air; he ignored him and watched as Max turned around and moved her hair aside. When he caught sight of the familiar barcode, he slowly lowered his weapon. Alec dropped to the ground.

"You’re 452," he said to Max. "I know you. You're in my unit." She hesitated before answering, and when she did her voice was sad, though he didn't understand why. She was a soldier being addressed by her CO; there was no need for emotions in the identification process.

"That's right," she said finally. Then she tried one last time, in an almost desperate voice, "I'm Max."

"Max," he repeated, though the name held little meaning or sense to him. Names were not what he identified the members of his unit by; designations and barcodes were. Still, she seemed a bit uplifted at him speaking her name, and even in his strictly military mind-set he supposed that was a good thing.

"He's been working against us the whole time!" He was yelling at Max; he was angry, he was devastated. She didn't understand. She was locked up, he would have saved her, but she was against him. Why was she against him? He loved her. "That's the reason the mission went wrong!" His mind screamed, It's the reason you and I died, Max!

"Just undo these handcuffs," she said slowly. "We can talk about it." Anger overwhelmed Zack. What was wrong with her?

"He's a traitor! Why don't you believe me?"

"You've got it all wrong!" Her voice was desperate. "They did something to you back at Manticore!" Sorrow engulfed him. Yes, they'd tortured him at Manticore. Because of Logan. It was Logan's fault, why couldn't she see that? It was because of him that Zack had become the monster he was... it was all his fault!

"I died for you!" Zack screamed, and she recoiled from him in pain.

"Traitor!" Zack screamed at Logan, holding a gun on him where he lay on the floor. Suddenly, Zack was struck to the ground by someone on a motorcycle. The gun went flying from his hand, but when he regained his feet he headed for it quickly. Someone kicked him from behind, sending him tumbling to the ground a second time. He turned on his attacker. Max.

"Zack don't do this!" she cried, grabbing him. What was she doing? Why was she fighting him? Logan had betrayed them both! And now Max was betraying Zack. Why?

"Out of my way, Max," he yelled; they fought though he didn't want to. Why didn't she understand what he was trying to do? It was all for her, for their siblings. Why couldn't she see that? Why did she want to stop him?

They each got in a few good kicks and punches before Max threw him onto the windshield of one of the cars parked nearby. Zack saw her immediately go rushing toward Logan, and he ran after her, angry, pushing her down, pinning her under him against the cold cement floor of the parkade. Logan, nearby, paralyzed and unable to reach the gun that was only one or two feet from his hand, watched him as he picked her up and threw her against a nearby cement pole. She laid there, dazed; Zack hadn't wanted to hurt her. But she was trying to stop him from completing his mission. She shouldn't have interfered, but he would have to deal with her later. Right now, he picked up the gun, pointed it at Logan, and prepared to fire.

Suddenly, he heard a sound like a fire being doused with water, and a strange sensation came over him. His body shook; it wasn't exactly painful, but it was discomfort on every level of his awareness. He managed to turn his head to look at Max; she had disconnected some wires and touched them to a trail of soapy water that he was standing in. The shock traveled through the water and into his implants, synthetic organs, face-plate, and cybernetic arm.

Shock, anger, betrayal, pain, love, agony, lament, fear, sorrow... a barrage of emotions hit Zack as he gazed into the anguished face of his sister. After a moment, she removed the cables from the water; his body stopped convulsing, and he toppled to the ground, blackness overtaking his senses.

When he woke up, Zack had no longer existed. Nothing had existed; he was no one. So, someone had given him an identity. And he'd accepted it. Perhaps even more than letting Manticore recapture Brin, or abandoning Ben, or letting Max die, accepting the life he was fed and abandoning the mission, his family, was the biggest mistake of Zack's life. It was his recession into exactly what they had all wanted so desperately to get away from. At eleven, he had been able to fight against them and escape; at twenty-three, they caught him and they manipulated him, and this time he could not resist.

Zack staggered away from Max, back against the window, his eyes wild as he stared at her in shock. It was raining outside; the water splashed against the glass with satisfying ‘plunks.’

"Zack-" she was surprised, concerned. She took a step toward him.

"It was you," he breathed. "You're the one."

"What are you talking about?" she asked cautiously.

"You sent me to that ranch, you took me away from the others!" He swallowed. "You hurt me. You tried to kill me."

"No." Her voice shook.

"Yes." He pointed a shaking finger at her. "You electrocuted me, Max, I remember!"

"How did you-" she stopped, looked at Logan, who wore a shocked and almost sick statement. "The doctor said you wouldn't be able to remember that," she managed, turning slowly back to face her brother. "He said you wouldn't remember anything that happened since the cranial implant was first switched on."

"Yeah? Well, he was wrong." Zack bit out in a pained voice, "I remember."

"Max!" Zack was on a gurney, being wheeled into a hospital room. Max was on another gurney; he heard a flatline from her heart monitor. Hands were pushing him down; he struggled against them but he was too weak.

"Internal paddles."

"Charge to 30."

"Charged."

"Clear."

He heard them administer the shock to her heart, and the jolt of electricity shot through her body. The flatline tone continued.

"30 again." The paddles were charged once more.

"Clear."

They shocked her a second time, but still the dead sound of the heart monitor droned in the room. Zack watched; panicked, helpless. He saw a woman walk into the room, stared at her, willed her to save Max.

"What's her condition?" the woman asked as she gazed at Max, ignoring him. Zack held his breath.

"The bullet went clean through," the answer came. "Her right ventricle is collapsed. She's gone." No, she can't be gone, Zack's mind cried. He stared at the woman. Save her, please!

"Is there damage to any other organs?" the woman asked; one of the doctors that had been working on Max shook his head, and she nodded brusquely. "Prep her for harvesting." A surge of horror and adrenaline shot through Zack; he ripped the flimsy gurney-straps holding him back and sprung to his feet, incapacitating a guard and sweeping up his weapon. Then he managed to grab the woman even as she fled from the room, and held the gun on the doctors.

"Bring her back!" he yelled... And then, when he realized there was only one way to save her, he leaned in close and whispered desperately in her ear, "Fight them, Maxie. Promise me you'll fight them." Fully intending to close his eyes and never open them again, as Zack or as anyone, he put the gun to his head. "X5-599, I've got a heart for you."

He pulled the trigger. It didn't hurt.

He'd died for her, had been happy to do it, had been comforted in the last moments of his life with the thought of her being saved. She hadn't deserved to die like that, there in that room in the place they said they'd never go back to; he didn't know if he deserved it, either, but she certainly deserved it less. No remorse, no anger, no distress at doing what he had to do. Just calm, certain clarity, peace in knowing that he would save her life, that she would fight, and that, because he had loved her and trained her for her entire life, she would not let him down.

But he had not died, and now he knew: she had betrayed him after all.

"You tried to kill me," he breathed, his eyes wild as he stared at her. "After everything I did for you!" His hands were shaking. Why did she do it? How could she? Didn't she know what he'd sacrificed for her, what he would sacrifice for her again in a second, without even having to be asked?

"No," Max protested; her voice was weak, helpless. "Zack-"

"Yes!" he cut her off. "You tried to kill me! And then when I didn't die you took me away from the others so I couldn't protect them! You know what my responsibilities are; you know how much they mean to me! Why did you do that to me, Max?"

"No, that's not how it happened!" Her voice pleaded with him to understand. "You were going to kill Logan. I didn't know what else to do!" She was desperate for him to believe her; they'd been so close to fixing everything and here it was snatched away from her again. Wouldn't she ever be happy, a normal girl with a normal family? The cruel, true answer was 'no,' she knew, but she didn't want to face it.

"How could you?" He stared at her. "How could you try to kill me, Max? I love you; I've protected you our whole lives! How could you betray me?"

"I didn't, Zack!"

"You endangered the others! Who the hell did you think was going to look after them after I was gone, Max?"

"I don't know." She hugged herself, tears threatening. She looked up at him, the scared child again, the little sister looking to him for answers. Only he didn't want to give them; he was too angry to be her big brother right now. She'd betrayed him; what did she deserve?

"What would you have done?" her soft question broke through his thoughts, floored him for a moment, then he recovered himself and glared at her.

"I would have made a decision for the good of the unit, Max." He looked at Logan. "You'd know that if you weren't so caught up in your emotions."

"Hey,” Logan said. "It was emotions that made Max so determined to rescue you from those Steelheads in the first place." Zack glared at him, but Logan pressed the issue. "And I don't remember you making a decision for the good of the unit when you put that bullet in your head."

"Logan," Max said, sounding as surprised as Zack felt that he would dare to speak of that.

"Stay out of this," he snapped at Logan, his voice shaking with anger; he was taken slightly aback when he realized he'd just echoed one of his memories. But what really irritated Zack about Logan's words was that the guy was right. Sacrificing himself to save Max's life hadn't been an objective decision, hadn't been the best thing for the unit; it had been only the best thing for Max. He'd made the decision purely on emotion. This realization hit Zack hard; emotions were a weakness, a phony sentimentality, a lie. Yet he had saved Max's life because in his heart he knew he had to. He swallowed hard.

"Zack-" Max tried again.

"I have to get out of here," he interrupted her, bolting past her toward the door without meeting her eyes. Max turned and watched his receding form, then glanced at Logan, wishing she could fall into his arms for comfort. She blinked back her tears and followed her brother.

Chapter 7 - Sombraniños, Brilloniños

After Max left, Logan sat down at his computer to clear his mind. He had promised Asha that he’d hack into some government files, erase a couple of criminal records as a favour to the S1W, and he’d already left it too long. But suddenly, before he could get very deeply into the system, the police scanner sitting idle on his computer registered something and started recording. Logan turned the volume up and continued with his hack.

“... 10-23 at 15th and East Madison. Homicide. Young woman, early thirties, single shot through the back of the head. Clean job; looks professional.” Logan’s hands slowed on his keyboard. “No witnesses,” the officer continued. “ID says Alyssa McLean; run a search, please.”

“Roger that,” the person at the police station answered the officer. Logan sat at his computer desk, stunned. He remembered something Lydecker had once told him, and a chill traveled up his spine.

“They were designed to kill,” Lydecker had said in a voice half proud and half troubled “Coldly... efficiently... and happily.” Logan had listened to his words then, been frightened by them because somewhere deep down he wasn’t sure they weren’t true. “They're all killers. All they need is a trigger.”

After a moment Logan registered that the conversation on the scanner had ended, and he reached up to turn it off; a menu popped up. ‘Save’ and ‘Delete’ were the two options offered to him. Outside, the rain made lazy rivers on the windows.

Max found Zack at the waterfront a few hours later, throwing rocks into the sea. She approached him noiselessly, but he heard her anyway and stood stiffly, waiting for her.

"Zack," she said, stopping a few metres from him; she didn't know what else to say, didn't know if she should approach him. He threw the last stone in his hand into the water, then turned and closed the distance between them. They stood there for a moment, not saying anything, but oddly the silence wasn't uncomfortable.

"Do you remember what Lydecker used to tell us, about the importance of unity?" Max looked at him. "'Being a member of a unit is being like a rock in the ocean; there are thousands of stones on the bottom of the sea, and what happens to one of them doesn't really matter. But if they work together, they can create reefs, sink ships, turn tides...'" He gazed out at the water; Max could see his breath as he spoke. "I used to think that was true."

"You don't now?" she asked; he turned to her, shook his head.

"It does matter what only one of us does, and sometimes you have to hold the well-being of just one little stone before the importance of sinking the ship." There was a short pause, then he fixed her with a meaningful look. “I’ll do anything it takes to protect you, Max.” He looked sorry, but she didn’t know why. He glanced away, added more softly, “Even if it’s hard for me to do it.”

"I know.” She didn’t quite know why he had looked so troubled when he’d said it, or what the deeper meaning of his words were, but she touched his arm because she sensed that he needed it. “You always do what’s right for us."

"I try," he said; she remembered him trying, remembered him succeeding, remembered the undying, unending love she and all the rest of her siblings had for him.

Staccato sounds assaulted Max's ears as the guards shot live ammunition at them during one of their escape-and-evade games. Max was seven years old; the machine gun felt heavy in her small hands, but natural because she had handled one almost every day for as long as she could remember. Her heart pounded in her ears as she ran along, Jondy near her, Zane a little ways behind. Zack was up ahead, with Jace and Tinga flanking them; Jack had been sent to scout the territory ahead. Eva was leading another team in a different section of the grounds, Krit the commander of a third.

Max and other others slowed amongst the foliage of the trees at a motion from Zack that said Jack had returned. The forest was dark, frightening. Max wondered if the nomlies were here and was glad for the first time in her life that Ben wasn't around.

Zack gave his little garrison a series of hand-signals, telling them that three of the ten guards pursuing them were approaching their position from about a klick up ahead. He assigned them their attack pattern, leaving Max and Jace to bring up the rear as the others got the action. Max didn't mind; being the smallest and least-experienced, it was only logical for her to be excluded from such an important detail. But Jace looked angry; Max touched her sister's arm sympathetically. The girl pulled away, hefting her machine-gun and following Zane's disappearing form, though they weren't supposed to move yet. Max watched her go, uncertain of what to do. After a few moments, she heard a burst of fire ring out ahead, and several more staccato shots from different locations broke the silence of the night.

Suddenly, a crow took flight from a tree nearby Max, cawing, and she took off running towards where the others had gone. She collided head-on with a body as it emerged from the bushes, causing her to fall backwards to the ground, quickly grabbing up her gun and pointing it at her attacker before her eyes registered who it was: Jondy, and she looked relieved.

"Zack sent me to find you," she said breathlessly, helping Max to her feet. "Come on." Jondy led her to a clearing about half a klick away, where Jace was standing stiffly at attention, the others staying out of the way of Zack, who was pacing back and forth in front of her, glaring. He nodded at Max when she appeared with Jondy, and the two girls joined the ranks.

"If this was a real mission you'd be court-marshaled and discharged for what you just did!" he snapped. "You let one of our enemies escape, and you got Zane shot!" He stabbed his thumb in the direction of their brother, who was lying on the ground in Tinga's arms, tears on his cheeks as he held his injured leg. Jace's eyes flinched slightly, but her face remained cool and calm as she stared ahead. She was seven years old.

"What do you have to say for yourself, soldier?" Zack barked at her; he got no response, and after a moment calmed himself, stopping his pacing to come and stand in front of her. "Follow the code of conduct, 798, or I'll have to report you." Jace prickled at his use of her designation rather than her name but nodded brusquely, saluted him, and walked off into the trees, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. Max watched her go sadly, and Zack walked over to Zane, inspecting his injuries.

If Max had to pick a time of day when she loved Zack less than usual, it was when he was leading them in training exercises; he always took it so seriously. Zack turned into someone else on the field; it was why he was a good leader, but it was also why Jace was now crying alone in the bushes. But Zack had spoken, and even if he regretted what he'd said, he would never go back on his word. He was a great leader.

"What happened here?" Lydecker asked Zack after they'd dragged Zane back to Manticore, trading fire with the enemy soldiers a few times on the way back to the facility. One of the guards had taken Zane to the medical ward; the rest of Zack’s unit was in the debriefing room, standing against the back wall.

"X5-205 was shot by the enemy, sir," Zack stated the obvious.

"How?" Lydecker asked; Zack's eyes stared unfalteringly ahead, Max and the others likewise straight and at attention.

"Tactical error on my part, sir," Zack said evenly.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir!" Zack called out.

"Both the other teams came in with no casualties." Lydecker's voice was suspicious, but Max saw a flicker of relief cross Zack's face at this announcement. "No one else was at fault?"

"No, sir!" Zack said loudly. Lydecker looked disappointed, and motioned for one of the guards standing nearby to show them a surveillance capture on the nearby television. They all turned their heads simultaneously to watch the tape; Max's heart sank as she saw the entire incident in the clearing play out, both the parts she had witnessed and what happened prior to Jondy fetching her. She was thankful that Zack hadn’t called Jace by her name, since they knew instinctively that the use of names would be severely punishable in Manticore.

Throughout the video, though it had just been proven that he had been lying to Lydecker, a grave crime indeed, Zack's statement did not change. When the tape ended, the television was shut off and the children snapped their heads back to attention immediately. Lydecker walked over to Zack and stood before him.

"I thought you said it was your tactical error that led to X5-205's accident." His voice was cold; disappointed.

"Yes, sir,” Zack said. "I didn't recognize that X5-798 disliked my decision in regard to her role in the operation, or that she would insist on following us into the clearing when we engaged the enemy." Max almost wasn't able to hide her smile as she heard Zack's answer, which covered up his lie perfectly. Lydecker glared at him for a moment; then he turned to Jace.

"Solitary confinement," he said. "Two days." A guard came and took Jace's arm, starting to lead her out the door. Max swallowed hard; Jace was terribly afraid of the dark, and solitary confinement would kill her, even if for only two days. Her sister’s dark eyes were fear-filled as she was dragged away.

Zack took a step forward; Max's heart quickened with fear as he stepped out of line, as she sensed every one of her siblings’ do the same. Lydecker turned on Zack and fixed him with an angry, almost disbelieving stare.

"Get back into the ranks, soldier."

"I've dealt with the matter, sir," Zack spoke up, his voice brave.

"What did you say?" Lydecker sounded like he couldn't believe his ears.

"There's no need to put her in solitary," Zack said calmly. "I've already disciplined her."

"Get back into the ranks, soldier," Lydecker said again. "Or I'll give her a week." Zack stayed where he was.

"I have authority here, sir." Max paled; her heart was racing. Beside her, Jondy was shaking. Max wanted to reach out and grab her sister's hand, but she didn't dare to with Lydecker standing so close.

"Back in line, 599!" he roared; Zack didn't budge. Lydecker slammed his hand against the wall behind Zack's head; a few of the children jumped, but Zack did not respond. He just kept staring straight ahead.

"My unit is my responsibility, sir," Zack said, quoting from one of the classes that Lydecker himself had taught. He looked at the man they all feared. "You can discipline me, but it's my duty to discipline them."

"Put him in solitary," Lydecker said, sounding disgusted and, if it was possible to be both at the same time, proud. "A month." The guard let go of Jace's arm and grabbed Zack, hauling the nine-year-old away. Then Lydecker jerked his head at the rest of the children.

"Back to the barracks," he barked. They turned simultaneously and filed out, heading to the safety of their beds, frightened at the prospect of spending even one night alone without their leader, let alone a month. Max hoped Ben wouldn't tell any stories.

"Ben said something to me once, about the Blue Lady,” Max said, emerging from her reverie. "He said that she would always be there, even if we couldn't see her, that she wouldn't let anything bad happen to us, even if we felt that she had abandoned us." She looked up at him. "But now I think he wasn't talking about her at all. He was talking about you."

"How do you mean?" Zack asked; this was not a subject he often wished to discuss, but he was curious as to how she could draw parallels between himself and the Blue Lady.

"After we made it out, for years I used to wonder why you didn't come and see me; I wasn't sure that you had gotten out, but I had a feeling that you did. You were always there for us, no matter what, weren't you? Always, even if I didn't see you?" Zack looked at her, slowly smiled.

"The first time I saw you after the escape, you were in Sheridan, almost eleven. Your hair was like a mop stuck to the top of your head, only a few inches long, but thick. I got your neighbours across the street to rent me a room, take me in because I was so young. I watched you play with your foster sister in the front yard all autumn, raking leaves and jumping in them. You looked happy. I didn't like your foster father, though. There was something off about him." Max looked away.

"Hey! You kids out here?!" he was drunk again; they could see him through the cracks in the stair floorboards, but he was too stupid to look down there for them. Max huddled with Lucy under the stairs, her head in the older girl's lap, holding her ice-cold hand. Her head itched from her hair growing in and Lucy's nightgown rubbed against it like sandpaper. After a while, he stomped away, yelling to himself about the television being broken. Max wondered why the electricity was off, not suspecting that the whole world had just changed, and that by this time tomorrow she would be long gone from that house of fear.

"Yeah," she said softly. "There was something off about him."

"I was all set to take you away from there, but then the Pulse hit and you left on your own." He smiled. "I was so proud of you." Max swallowed hard as she remembered what she didn’t want to recall.

She slipped outside in the dead of night; the street was black from the Pulse, though she did not yet know it had happened, wouldn't know for many years later, when the government finally got the country's electricity working again. She took one last look at her foster father's house, hesitated briefly as she thought of Lucy, but fell back on her training that screamed for a tactical retreat from this strange new territory. She turned her back on the house and disappeared into the night.

"I wasn't proud of me," Max said in a grim voice; Zack started to ask her what that meant, but saw her statement and let it go.

"I was going to find out where you went, but I robbed a pharmacy for tryptophan, got caught. After that, I left the city; I didn't see you until two years later, when I found you in Idaho."

"I saw your mugshot from that arrest; Logan found it for me. I used to stare at that boy for hours when I would lose hope searching for you. You still looked the same, even though you were different."

"So did you," he said. "You all looked the same to me, every time I saw you. You got older and older, but I could still see the children I’d grown up with in your faces."

"It must have been hard, watching us from a distance, not being able to tell us you were okay."

"I talked to some of them," he said. "If they were in trouble. Like Syl... I stayed with her for three years, for the same sort of situation as the one I was going to get you out of before the Pulse." Max smiled bitterly at this revelation; so, if she had withstood her foster father's abuse for a few more days, maybe she would have met Zack again when they were still children, and things could have been different between them: closer. Max's brow furrowed when she tried to imagine their relationship as closer and found she couldn't. It didn't matter, then, she supposed; he was her brother just the same, even after more than ten years, and would be even after twenty, thirty, fifty years. The thought comforted her greatly. He would always come back; she realized that now.

"I'm sorry about what I said," Zack's voice came softly; he wasn't meeting her eyes.

"It's okay," she said. "I shouldn't have lied."

"No." He shrugged. "You did what was right. You did what I would have wanted you to do. I was out of line blaming you." He gazed thoughtfully into her dark eyes for a few moments, then raised his head to the stars. A chill ran down Max's spine.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked, her voice calmer than she felt. He looked at her.

"I've been gone a long time. The others will be wondering where I am."

"Krit and Syl probably told them." She wanted him to stay.

"Max, they don't know where any of the others are." He smiled at her. "Did you think you were special?" There was a short pause, and then he spoke again. "They need me, Max."

"I know." She sighed. "Will you be alright out there?"

"I still have some things I need to figure out, piece together,” he said. "I think seeing them will help." She nodded sadly.

"What about us, are we okay?" she asked after a moment's hesitation; she had to know this, though it frightened her to think what his answer might be. Zack reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She breathed a long sigh of relief as he touched her hair.

"Good as new," he said, releasing her. He took her hand, squeezed it. "Good as always." Then he smiled, and she watched him walk away until the darkness swallowed him.

Max looked down at her hand. Curled in her fingers was a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it, and a caption above it read, 'I know how much this means to you.' She gazed down at it, confused, then slowly walked the three blocks to the nearest payphone. She searched for a quarter in her pocket, deposited one, dialed the number. A machine answered on the first ring.

"Zack," his voice from a long time ago greeted her with a growl. "This better be an emergency." Then a beep. In the phone booth, a small smile spread over Max's face.

"Thank you, Zack," she whispered into the mouthpiece, and then hung up the telephone. She left the booth and looked around her for a moment; people walked the streets of Seattle, caught up in their strange little lives, and Max joined the masses of men and women moving through the city, a little more normal than she'd been before.

For her whole life, she'd had a big brother who loved her; now, he understood her as well.

Fin