Vantage Point *HF*
By Harbinger
VANTAGE POINT: A tale of how things come together, and how things fall apart. By Harbinger.
Vantage Point
Prologue: Flashed Before My Eyes
It flashed in her mind. The flood of memories not her own. Someone else's. Or were they?
"You said you loved me, Adrian. Weren't you telling me the truth?"
"Trevor...I do love you...but I don't want to--"
"Why not? If you love me, you'll do this."
"B-but I'm only twelve...I shouldn't do things like that."
"You didn't say no to your father!"
"Trevor! That wasn't my fault!"
"Nothing is ever your fault, is it, Adrian?"
Flashed again.
"Adrian, you know you can't tell anyone about this."
"Why not, Daddy?"
"Because some people think it's wrong for a father and daughter to express their love that way."
"I don't understand...why?"
"Dammit, I just told you why! What are you, stupid?"
"Daddy, please don't be upset with me..."
Flashed again.
"You said you loved me!"
"I do love you!"
"Then WHY?!"
"Trevor, I DON'T WANT TO!"
"Adrian, you will!"
"Trevor, STOP IT!"
Flashed again.
"Don't you talk back to me again, young lady!"
"Daddy...please...I'm sorry."
"You will be in a moment."
Flashed again.
The gunshot. The blood.
Flashed again.
Her mind tearing apart.
Flashed again.
Her scream.
Flashed again.
The pain.
Flashed again.
The hate.
Flashed again.
Darkness.
Jennifer Reston's eyes flashed open, and she saw several figures towering over her. She screamed, trying to cast away the demons of her past.
--End Prologue--
Chapter One: Crying for Yesterday
"Jennifer, are you all right?" the Harbinger asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"Robert? What happened?"
"We'll get to that in a moment. Are you all right?"
"I don't know..." She wiped the tears from her face. "Why was I crying?"
"Don't you remember?"
"No, I don't. I don't remember anything of the last...how long was I out of it?"
"A couple hours," Nate said, checking his watch.
"I had Inferno bring us home as quickly as it could, Jennifer. I felt what was happening to you through our mindlink."
"You are still linked with me?" she asked.
"Now and forever. Get used to it."
"Robert, can we go somewhere else please?"
"Of course."
"Wait!" Bluespark said, as the Harbinger and Thresh vanished.
...
"Thank you, Robert," she said, laying back on the bed.
"Anything for you, Jennifer," he said.
"Why do you care so much about me?"
"Jennifer...it's best that you don't remember the things that led to our first encounter."
"But I want to know. I've been blacking out more and more, lately. I need to know, Robert."
"That's not a good idea...please try to understand...I'm protecting you from yourself."
The Harbinger sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at her. Tears were once again forming in her eyes. He tried to calm her telepathically.
Jennifer, it's all right. You just need to rest.
But you know what happened to me, and I don't. That isn't fair.
Please trust me.
Please tell me the truth.
But it could kill you.
I can handle anything, Robert.
Not this.
What could be so bad that you would keep me from remembering it?
It could drive you to harm yourself...or worse. I can't lose you like that.
Why do you act so...caring toward me?
I guess I've always felt a need to protect you...
And where did that need come from?
The condition you were in when I found you.
"Robert, please. It's my past. Let me deal with it."
"How much do you remember?"
"I remember the first time I met you. You had found me in the wreckage of a gang zone. I was barely alive."
"And before that?"
"Nothing. Everything before that, you took from me. I want it back." Her voice was not forceful, but more like pleading.
The Harbinger sighed. "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes."
"I just want you to know...whatever happens...I will always be here for you."
"Okay. Thank you."
He ventured into her mind once again, and searched for the dam he had placed in her memory so long ago. Behind it lay another personality, another life, another hell. He expertly picked the lock he had put in her mind, and prepared to see the worst. Her memories burst forth, overwhelming him. But he did not retract from her mind. Instead, he stayed with her as her past came back. He felt her pain and grief as she remembered everything.
"Robert," she sobbed. "This is what you locked away...in my mind?"
"Yes, Jennifer. It is." He held her close as she cried into his cybernetic shoulder, her mind trying futilely to cope with the flood of emotion.
--End Chapter One--
Chapter Two: Dream of Understanding
Robert Maxwell closed the door behind him, as Mitchell Art stood in front of him. "How is she?" Bluespark asked.
"Mitchell...now would not be the best time for you to see her."
"I have a right to know what's going on with her!"
"Mitchell! She doesn't need you in there right now. Just stay out here."
"NO! I will see her now!" he shouted as he shoved the Harbinger out of the way, and opened the door.
The Harbinger sighed, and hoped that Bluespark would be able to find a way to help her.
Bluespark looked around the room. Thresh was sitting on her bed, candles lit around the room. Her eyes stared blankly at an empty wall, the flickering of the candles creating patterns of light and shadow that teased her mind. She almost didn't notice him entering her quarters. Almost.
"Mitchell..." she spoke softly.
"I'm here, Jennifer," he said, walking tentatively toward her bed.
"Jennifer..."
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I don't know."
All the while, her eyes were staring forward, blinking once in awhile.
He sat next to her on the bed, and looked into her eyes. "Please tell me what's going on."
"I'm not sure that I can. I'm not really sure myself."
"I've never seen you like this. Are you sure you wouldn't feel better laying down?"
"If I close my eyes, I keep seeing...keep seeing..."
"Seeing what?"
"I don't want to see it, Mitch. I don't want to see it. But I have to see it."
He was at a loss for words. For the first time, he was forced to face his feelings for the young woman before him. He had originally just been interested in the physical, but found he now had a deep concern for her. The feelings were foreign to him, and perhaps, were foreign to Thresh herself.
"What did he do to you?" Bluespark asked.
"He showed me the truth."
"And that is?"
"I...am not Jennifer Reston. I'm Adrian Berkeley. Or maybe I'm both. I'm not sure."
"Is there any way I can help?"
"Maybe. Are you willing to listen? I...need to tell someone about the things I keep seeing. Maybe it will make them go away."
"Okay," he said softly. "You can tell me."
"You won't like it."
"Maybe not. But I know that I will still..." He deliberately avoided the "L"-word. "...care about you, no matter what it is you tell me."
"Thank you, Mitchell."
...
The Harbinger sat at one of his terminals, sipping a hot cup of coffee. "Robert," DANTE said aloud.
"What is it?"
"How is Thresh doing?"
"As well as can be expected. She took it better than I thought she would."
"How much does she remember?"
"Not a lot, as it is. But she'll remember everything, very quickly."
"And then what?"
"All we can do is be here for her, DANTE. Her past is about as haunting as mine is, and she's not even half my age."
"Is anyone still alive that knows of her past?"
"Not that I know of. The only two people who really knew were her father, and Trevor Finney. Both are dead."
"Are you sure it was a good idea to let her learn the truth?"
"The memories were seeping through to being with. I had to let them out, or she would have been permanently trapped in her own private hell."
"Then I hope she is strong enough to deal with what she now knows."
"You're not the only one, DANTE."
--End Chapter Two--
Chapter Three: Self-Made Purgatories
Bluespark held Thresh in his arms as she cried softly. She had found herself crying more and more, for the first time in years. The pent-up frustrations and failures and heartache that she had experienced in her life, coupled with the memories she was newly aware of, put her in a tenuous emotional state. Bluespark was frightened that she would attempt to hurt herself, and still had to deal with his own memories. The past that he had discussed with no one.
She gradually stopped crying, and pulled away from him carefully. "Do you feel any better?" he asked her.
"Not really. I guess what I need to do is tell someone...tell them the whole story of who I am...or who I was."
"You can tell me, Jennifer. You can trust me."
"But you might think differently of me if you hear it."
"I already told you...Nothing can change the way I feel about you."
"All right..." She took a moment to gather her thoughts.
"I guess it started when I was eight. My given name was Adrian Berkeley."
...
Fourteen years ago. A home in Los Angeles.
Sidney Berkeley was sitting in front of the television, like he had been doing for the last several months. The automobile plant he worked at had shut down to move overseas, and he was left unemployed. He spent most of his days like this one, parked in his old recliner, drinking Budweiser. It was almost time for his daughter to come home from school. Adrian, the only reminder he had of his dead wife, Melissa. He often thought that she looked a lot like her mother. Sometimes, he thought, too much like her.
He heard the screen door slam, and was slightly agitated. "Adrian, dammit! How many times have I told you not to slam the door?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to," she said as she walked in.
"Don't give me that. You've been told plenty of times to know it by now."
"Dad, I said I was sorry," she protested.
"Don't take that tone with me, Adrian!"
Adrian was near tears now, but her father was unmoved by the display. "Go to your room, Adrian. I'll be there in a minute."
"Daddy?"
"I said GO!"
Reluctantly, she went to her room, without the slightest idea of what to expect.
...
"And then?" Bluespark asked.
"...I don't think I can..."
"You can trust me, Jennifer...Adrian...I don't even know what to call you."
"Just call me Jennifer...it's what I'm used to..."
"Okay...go on."
"It's not a matter of my wanting to tell you, Mitch... I just don't know if I can tell you."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't think you can."
"It's just that...he..." She looked into Mitchell's eyes, betraying her thoughts to him. He understood at once, and looked back at her. She was quiet for several minutes before she spoke again.
"It wasn't the last time, either. Sometimes... I actually... liked it. But most of the time, I didn't... I felt so... I don't know. Was it wrong, Mitchell?"
"Which part?"
"About me... actually liking it. I hate admitting it...but sometimes, I did. Am I wrong because of that? I didn't want it... I know I didn't... Mitchell, I can't stop it. I don't even know what to think about anything anymore." She was silent again, and then shouted "I HATE HIM!" and became limp in Bluespark's arms.
"I need someone to help me," she said between sobs. "I can't deal with this alone. Please, say you can fix it... just tell me you can make these feelings go away, and I will be yours forever..." Her voice was becoming more indistinct as her crying intensified. Then she begged him, "Please, Mitchell...take it away from me! I don't want it anymore! I can't live with it! Please!"
"Shhh..." he said softly, trying to calm her by rubbing her back. "Jennifer, I'm going to help you through this, no matter what it takes. I won't leave you now."
"...not fair...it's just not fair... I didn't ask for it to happen. I didn't deserve it... did I?"
"No, you didn't. It wasn't your fault."
"Then why did it happen? If I didn't deserve it, then why did it happen?! TELL ME!"
"I don't know why, Jennifer. I really don't."
...
Paul Rogen was staring at the timestream through Inferno's filtered viewports, awed by the colors and swirling shapes and clouds of light and energy that coruscated all about the ship. He found it easier to forget his past by staring into the timestream itself. Somehow, it took away his pain, at least temporarily. He almost didn't notice the Harbinger approach. "Hello, Paul."
"Robert," he said, then looked back through the window.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm not sure...just all this discussion of...the past...memories...it was making me remember things I didn't want to."
"Mitchell is trying to help Jennifer as we speak. I think he may be helping. Maybe he's not the impulsive kid I thought he was."
"If he turned out well, it's because you pointed him in the right direction when you first met him."
"Don't give me that, Paul. I never improved any of your lives. It seems all I did was make them worse, by giving you all a purpose. My purpose."
"At least you gave us direction. I was ready to die after Janice and Theodore were killed. After I lost them, I didn't think I'd be able to go on. That, on top of knowing what I've done over the years. It seemed like it was just too much to bear."
"I never held it against you that you worked for the government. Yes, people died because of the strategies you drafted. But many were spared death, because the tactics you devised caused few civilian casualties. You were conscientious in your work, and that is something I've always respected."
"The point is, people died because of the orders I gave. I knew it then, and I know it now. That I minimized the deaths doesn't make my crimes any less heinous."
"As usual, you're being too hard on yourself. Just remember where I come from, Paul."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Have you any idea how many beings died because of my actions? My time-hopping has undoubtedly resulted in many being wiped from history. The wars I fought in my own time... God only knows how many I killed. If my conscience can bear the hell of my past, so can yours."
"I guess we all have our self-made purgatories."
"Exactly."
"Thanks for the talk, Robert. I owe you one."
"Just remember that next time I run out of chips playing five-card stud with Bluespark."
As the Harbinger strolled away, Nedereth laughed a bit, and turned his face back toward the viewport, threatening to put a smile on his face.
--End Chapter Three--
Chapter Four: The One They Left Behind
Bluespark exited Thresh's quarters, carefully closing the door behind him. He tapped commands on a nearby terminal to locate the others, and proceeded to the lounge on deck four. He walked in slowly, preoccupied, and took a seat next to the Harbinger. "How is she?" the Harbinger asked.
"I don't know...she asked me to leave, so I did."
"I imagine she needs some time alone."
"I guess. How long do you think it will take for her to get better?"
The Harbinger set down the drink in his hand, and sighed. "Mitchell, she's not going to 'get better'."
"What are you talking about??"
"Things like this, people do not simply recover from. I even have trouble dealing with it, and I didn't experience it first hand."
"How does it trouble you?"
"Her memories are in my mind. If I spend enough time around someone, their memories are added to my own mind. I have the life stories of about a thousand people in my mind, Mitchell. Hers is probably the most horrifying one I've had to endure."
"Can you tell me the things she won't?"
"If she wants you to know, she has to tell you herself. It's her decision to make, not mine."
"What about my own past? Does it bother you at all?"
"Your case is different, because the events in your past happened around you, not to you."
"So the fact that my mother used me as a human shield, trying to evade the police, doesn't bother you in the least?"
"I never said that, Mitchell. I was just saying that you didn't have it as bad as you thought you did. Stop taking pity on yourself, and start being there for Jennifer. The sooner you get over your own past, the sooner you can help her overcome her own horrors." With those words, the Harbinger got up and left, leaving Mitchell Art with many things to ponder.
...
Key Trofeo, Florida.
He expertly cracked open the control panel, and danced his fingers over the switches and circuits inside. With an infusion of mystical power, the lock shorted and the door slid open for him. As he entered the compound, he expected an army, a war. He expected the Harbinger. As his disappointment sank in, memories came back to him, in a tidal wave of pain and terror.
It was two years ago.
"Poth! Behind you!" the Harbinger shouted.
"It's just a half-dead experiment," Apothecary said, mystically ripping the creature in two. "I wish I had Vengeance with me...then I wouldn't have to waste all my energy on magicks."
"Stop complaining, Poth. Your sword is back on Inferno, being analyzed. You can do without it for one mission. And I would advise you not to underestimate these creatures. I think they're building a strategy."
"What kind of strategy?" Nedereth asked.
"Whatever their genetically-enhanced brains can come up with," Bluespark said.
The Harbinger optically scanned the complex in front of them, checking it for security measures. "Bluespark, this is where your expertise comes in. We have an infrared scanner, a closed-circuit video surveillance system, and some point-defense turrets to contend with up ahead."
"Got it," Bluespark said, jumping out of the way as one of the creatures dove for him. He put it out of its misery with a gunshot, and stepped away.
"This mission could be going better," the Harbinger said.
"Keep your pessimism to yourself," Apothecary said.
After the last creature had fallen, they proceeded to the front door of the NewWave Genetic Research Complex. It had been locked up for the night, with their attackers having been released as some sort of preliminary security protocol. Bluespark sat in front of the door, and began taking apart the electronic lock. "This is too easy," he said.
"Don't get cocky," Apothecary warned. "It's too quiet...I don't like it."
"Maybe we got lucky this time," Nedereth said.
"Maybe. Damn, I wish Thresh were here. She could provide a little extra security," the Harbinger said.
"Yeah, but she decided it would be more fun to work for Deadpool and Siryn's little mercenary group. She could be anywhere in the world right now," Bluespark said.
"You just be quiet and work on that lock," the Harbinger ordered.
"Yes, SIR!" was the sarcastic response.
Suddenly, a helicopter descended quietly to the ground in front of them. It hovered just above the ground, facing them. Several tubes on the chopper began to glow red, brighter and brighter.
"That is probably not a good sign..." Nedereth said.
"Not at all," the Harbinger said. "We're going to abort." He began to make contact with Inferno, and noticed that Apothecary was making magical gestures and utterances.
"Bodyslide by five." They began to vanish. Everyone, that is, except Apothecary.
"Franklin!" the Harbinger shouted. "That spell is interfering with the slide! Terminate it at once!"
"But I can handle this!"
Just then, the helicopter opened fire. Apothecary took the full brunt of the blast, while the others were teleported safely to Inferno.
He had awakened several months later, in a laboratory. NewWave Research had enhanced his mind, his body, his magical skill. They had so well equipped him that he was able to override the program and kill his creators. His singular drive was now revenge. Revenge against the Harbinger, and those he had once called his friends.
He had nearly given up when he noticed an active terminal. Its screen read "Input Bodyslide Coordinates". His response was a simple smile, for fortune had smiled upon him.
--End Chapter Four--
Chapter Five: Vengeance and Rage
The Harbinger's face slammed against the console, as he reeled from the blow. He felt a fist impact his stomach, and the wind was knocked out of him. Then a fist crossed his face, his jaw dislocated. He fell to the ground, trying to catch his breath. "Who...are you...?" he managed to speak.
"Don't you even remember me?" the stranger said as it pounded on the Harbinger's back. Robert Maxwell collapsed under the attack, unsure how his telekinetics were being negated. It seemed even his cybernetic forcefields were somehow being disrupted.
"A fringe benefit of what NewWave Research did to me. I have sentinel nanotechnology inside me now. Your powers are ineffective."
"Yeah...right." The Harbinger manuevered through the attacker's psi-blocks, driving into his mind like a dagger. The stranger began to gasp and choke, his air being cut off.
"Forget...how to breathe?" the Harbinger asked. "I'm just...telepathically stopping you...from respirating. I suggest you...stand down...now."
The stranger nodded quickly, and the Harbinger released him. He gasped for breath, inhaling deeply.
"Now, do I know you?" the Harbinger asked.
"I was...am...Apothecary."
"Poth? I thought you were dead!"
"I think I'd have been better off if I were dead."
"Why did you attack me? And how did you get here?"
"I got here through your compound on Key Trofeo. You need to beef up your security."
"And why did you attack me?"
Apothecary contemplated answering the Harbinger's question, but decided against it. "You wouldn't understand," he said, as he ploughed into Maxwell. They both fell to the floor, with Apothecary on top. He grabbed the Harbinger's collar, and slammed Maxwell's back against the wall. The Harbinger was dazed, and Apothecary took full advantage of that fact. He threw Maxwell to the floor, and kicked him in the abdomen. Then he picked him up again, and brutally punched him across the face. Then again. And again. His lips were curled back to reveal his teeth. His eyes were unseeing, clouded by his anger. He simply lashed out at Maxwell with all of his rage. The Harbinger was thrown into another console, his head actually going through the console itself. Apothecary pulled his head out of the hole, and let Maxwell fall to the floor.
"I'm going to kill you now, Robert," Apothecary said, drawing a knife from his belt. The Harbinger pretended to be unconscious, and as Apothecary got closer, he swung his legs, tripping the man he had long thought dead. Apothecary's knife flew from his hands, and he fell to the floor painfully. The Harbinger quickly jumped on top of his attacker, and formed a small blade out of his finger. "You mentioned you had sentinel technology inside you. Did you forget that I'm a cyborg myself?" He thrust his finger inside Apothecary's neck, and left it in for a moment. He withdrew it, and felt his powers coming back under his control. "I just shorted all of the nanotech in your body. I'm sure your employers will be happy to know you were worth their investment."
"Dammit, Robert! I wasn't paid to do this! I did it because I wanted to!"
"Why?" the Harbinger asked, taken aback by the ferocity in the man's voice.
"You left me! YOU LEFT ME!"
"Franklin, calm down. This isn't going to do anyone any good."
"YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME YOU LEFT ME! YOU LEFT ME TO DIE!" Apothecary thrashed wildly, trying to throw Maxwell off of him. The Harbinger firmly held him down, determined to calm him down.
"Robert, what the hell is--" Bluespark said, prematurely ending his statement as he saw what was happening. "Apothecary?"
"Mitchell, this isn't a good time," the Harbinger said.
"No kidding. What the hell is this? Are all the skeletons coming out of our closets or what?"
"Mitchell, I said get out!" the Harbinger shouted more forcefully than he meant to. Bluespark stood his ground.
"I just want to know what Poth is doing here, alive."
"You'll get your answers as soon as I get mine. Isn't that right, Franklin?" the Harbinger asked.
"Not on your life," Apothecary spat, hurling the Harbinger to his left. He jumped up, and ran toward Bluespark. "Mitchell, get out of the way!" the Harbinger shouted.
Apothecary rammed into Bluespark, and they both slid across the floor. He grabbed Bluespark's neck, and squeezed tightly. "I will kill him, Robert."
"He's not the one you came for," the Harbinger said. "Let him go."
"Maybe I want you all dead...ever think of that?"
"This isn't the answer, Franklin. Do you really want to be a murderer?"
"HA! You really think that's going to work? I already am a killer, Robert. Two more isn't going to make much difference."
"I didn't want to do this, but you left me no choice." The Harbinger reached into Apothecary's mind, and simply shut it "off". Apothecary dropped to the floor, and released his grip on Bluespark. Bluespark coughed and took a minute to regain his breath. "What're we going to do with him?"
"I don't know," the Harbinger said. "But Thresh doesn't need this right now."
"Then we should lock him up. This ship still has a brig, doesn't it?"
"Of course."
--End Chapter Five--
Chapter Six: The Nightmare
"What's wrong, Adrian?"
"Daddy?"
"Who else would it be?"
"I was having a nightmare."
"It's all right now, Adrian. Everything is going to be fine." To her, his voice seemed saccharine sweet and fake. Why did she feel she hated him?
"Everything isn't going to be fine..."
"Yes it is. I won't let anything happen to you."
"Oh, is that so?" came a third voice.
"Trevor?" Adrian asked.
"It's me...your one, true love, Adrian. I'm going to end your suffering now." Trevor reached for a gun. Adrian knew what was going to happen. But this wasn't the way it had happened.
"Trevor, don't!" she shouted.
"Why shouldn't I? You want this, Adrian. You want him dead. You need for him to die!"
"He's right." This was someone new. Someone she had never met before. A man with an eye that glowed red, and hair that was going gray. "Who are you?" she asked him.
"Robert Maxwell. And I'm going to solve all your problems, right here." She looked at Maxwell, at once feeling secure and terrified.
This middle-aged man simply looked at the two men next to him, and they fell, writhing, to the floor. They screamed and hollered, their minds being twisted inside out. "This is how it's supposed to be," he told her.
"No! This isn't the way it happened! I AM NOT ADRIAN BERKELEY! I AM JENNIFER RESTON!"
"No, you are whoever I say you are! I CONTROL YOU!"
"You do NOT! NO ONE CONTROLS ME!"
And as Robert Maxwell reached for her throat...
...she opened her eyes and sat up, screaming again. Her skin was covered in a cold sweat, and she looked down at the man sleeping next to her. He was still soundly slumbering, and she saw no cause to wake him. I have to deal with these memories and nightmares on my own, she decided.
She again lay back down, and tried to sleep. The memories...the visions of things that had never happened, things her mind had confabulated for her, wracked her mind. There would be no peace for Jennifer Reston, no justice for Adrian Berkeley.
--End Chapter Six--
Chapter Seven: Wary, Uncertain, Retrospective
"Jennifer, are you all right?"
"Mitch?"
"Yeah...you okay?"
"I don't know. Was I asleep?"
"I'm not sure...your eyes were open, but you weren't really seeing anything."
"Self-induced hypnosis," the Harbinger said. "Looks like you at least remembered something I taught you."
"Robert?" Thresh asked. "I can't see you...am I blind?"
"Relax...it will just take your eyes a moment to refocus. Nothing to worry about."
"Mitchell, would you excuse us for a moment?" Thresh requested.
"Of course, Jennifer," Bluespark said as he left the room. He circumspectively regarded the Harbinger, their eyes meeting for a fraction of a second as he left the room. The Harbinger read Bluespark's thoughts as saying, Hurt her, and I'll kill you myself. Robert Maxwell nearly turned to face Bluespark, nearly shocked by that thought. But he quickly put it aside, and sat next to Thresh.
"How much do you remember, Jennifer?" he asked.
"Everything, Robert."
"That's what I was afraid of."
"They aren't going to like what you did to my father."
"Why wouldn't they? I say the bastard deserved what I gave him."
"...I don't think we should tell them."
"It's up to you."
"All right."
"Just one question: What do you remember about Trevor?"
...
Ten Years Ago. Los Angeles.
Trevor Finney waited outside of the school, and watched as the 7th-grader exited the building. She smiled as she saw him, and quickly ran to him. He hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek. "How was your day?" he asked kindly.
"It was great! It almost makes me wish we weren't doing this..."
"It's what's best for you, Adrian. We have to get you away from him."
The seventeen year old opened the car door for Adrian, and let her inside. "You ready to go, babe?" he asked.
"What does this tell you?" She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It lingered longer than he expected, and he smiled as she withdrew her lips from his.
"I guess that answers my question," he said, starting the car.
They drove to the other side of the city, as far away from her father as they needed at the time. "We can leave the state tomorrow," Trevor explained. "But tonight...tonight is going to be the beginning of the rest of your life."
--End Chapter Seven--
Chapter Eight: Blood on my Hands
WARNING: This chapter contains mature subject matter. Recommended for mature readers.
"Are you getting tired, Adrian?"
She yawned, and looked over at him. "Yeah."
"You can go ahead and get in the bed, then," Trevor said, pointing to the old motel room's double bed.
Adrian yawned again, and hopped into the bed. "How were you able to get a room here if you're only 17?"
"Fake identification, of course. That, and they didn't know I had anyone with me. We're free and clear, Adrian."
She smiled. "I'm so glad we can be together now. And that I never have to see my father again."
"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." Those words would come to haunt her nightmares.
"I feel so great! I don't know how to describe it."
"I know something that will feel even better," Trevor said, grinning.
"What?" She thought for a moment. "Ohhh...that."
Trevor nodded.
"I don't think we should, Trevor. I'm only twelve, you know."
"We can just do it once... I'm not saying you have to do it all the time."
"But I just... I just don't want to."
"Why not? Don't you love me?"
"Trevor, please don't do this..."
Trevor was getting angrier by the moment. He was being driven by his baser instincts and emotions, not fully in control of himself. "If you love me, you'll do this!"
"I don't want to do it, Trevor!"
"YOU WILL!" he declared. He approached her, and his eyes indicated his intent.
The seconds passed like years. Everything was a shade of gray, except for the red that surrounded her. Her body and mind screamed out, but they were unable to resist. The pain shot through her like fire. She felt as if she were being smothered by red hot coals, choked by heat and fury. Then she remembered the gun she had taken from her father, and had brought with her almost as an afterthought. She had put it in a drawer the small end table next to the bed. It was only a few feet away. As she tried to ignore the pain in her body, she reached with her hand to the drawer. She slid it open and withdrew the firearm. She was still unsure what she was going to do with it. Instinct took over where conscience and conscious left off. There was an earth-shattering sound in the air. She screamed, terrified that she had shot herself. But as she saw Trevor fall backwards, she realized what she had done. As he fell off the bed, clutching his abdomen, her mind was ablaze. The guilt, and at the same time, the utter sense of betrayal, were relentless. She cried out again, no longer able to speak intelligible words. Trevor himself was too shocked to speak, to make a sound. He simply looked at her, as he bled onto the floor. Her blood was on him, his own blood staining her. The gun fell from her fingers, tumbling through the air. In the instant before it hit the floor, her consciousness gave way, and reality faded. She collapsed onto the floor, as Trevor Finney breathed his last.
--End Chapter Eight--
Chapter Nine: Wolf in Wolf's Clothing
The days that followed passed like a blur for Adrian Berkeley. The next time she awakened, she had no idea where she was. The last memory she had was of collapsing upon the floor after killing Trevor. Now she was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar abode. It looked to be a fairly run-down building, from the peeling paint on the walls, and the large cracks in the load-bearing walls. Next to her was a man she was sure she had never met, still sleeping soundly. She shook him to wake him up.
"Who are you?" she demanded of him.
"What?" the man asked, still waking up.
"Who are you?"
"Damon Stanford."
"That doesn't tell me anything...how did I get here?"
"A few days ago I found you at the Halfton Motel, outside, stumbling around in a daze. You were covered in blood, and I didn't think it would be wise to leave you to the police. They would likely have charged you with murder."
"So where am I?"
"This is home... gangland, unfortunately. I brought you to my place, cleaned you up, since you seemed to be unable to do it yourself, and let you sleep. How old are you?"
"I'm...twelve."
Damon's eyes widened. "Twelve? You certainly look older than that. I would have guessed you were sixteen."
"Well I'm not. What are you going to do to me?"
"Nothing at all... except help you find a way out of the mess you seem to have gotten yourself into."
Suddenly, she felt a rush of emotion and pain come back to her. She cried out as she remembered in graphic detail what had happened a few days before. She sobbed uncontrollably, overcome with anger and grief. Damon looked at her with concern, unsure of how to help her. Then another man entered the room, unbeknownst to Adrian. "Let me handle this," the man said.
"Are you sure you should?"
"I can at least calm her down temporarily."
"All right...but please don't hurt her."
"I won't."
The man reached into the girl's mind, and searched for the memories that were haunting her. When he found them, he was taken aback by their intensity. His head spun with the horror he was witnessing. Instinctively, he shut down the part of her mind that was filled with those memories, and essentially suppressed all of her memories. "Damon, get out of here," he ordered.
"Why? What's wrong?"
"It's for your own safety! Go!"
Damon Stafford obeyed, and left the building. "Don't worry, Damon, you will see me again."
After Damon had left, the man pointed his arm upwards. Flames shot from it, and engulfed the room in fire. It was at this time that Adrian came to her senses. "What's happening?" was her first question.
"We're right in the middle of a gang war. We need to get out of here," the man said.
"Okay..." Reluctantly, she took his hand, and followed him.
"You'll be safe with me," he assured her.
"What's your name?" she asked him.
"Robert...Robert Maxwell."
"Who...Who am I?"
He was a bit shocked by the question, and stood still for a moment. Then part of the ceiling collapsed, and was falling toward them. He saw it approach rapidly, and grabbed Adrian. "DANTE, bodyslide by two! Double time!"
They both vanished, and arrived in a sleek, high-tech room. Adrian expected to see fire all around her, but instead saw blue metal and blinking lights and computer screens. "Where are we?" she asked in amazement.
"This is Inferno. Your new home."
...
"You know the rest after that, right Jennifer?" the Harbinger asked.
"Of course. You raised me on Inferno. I left about six years ago to find my own way, and ended up with the others from time to time. But there is one part of this that is bothering me."
"What is it?"
"What you did to my father..."
--End Chapter Nine--
Chapter Ten: The Conscience of the King
"What did he do to your father?" Bluespark asked.
"What are you doing in here, Mitchell?" the Harbinger asked.
"I've just been listening to this sordid tale Jennifer has been reciting. I've been standing here the whole time."
"You were eavesdropping. These things do not concern you. I suggest you leave."
"Wrong, Robert. I have every right to know!"
"He does, Robert," Thresh said. "He should know."
"Very well. But do not breathe a word of this to anyone, understand?" the Harbinger asked, looking at Bluespark.
"I understand," Bluespark acknowledged.
...
"I can't remember anything... I don't know who I am."
"Your name is Jennifer Reston. You are suffering from a permanent amnesia, no doubt."
"Well....what are you going to do with me?" To her, the things around her seemed to not be happening, as if she were caught in a dream. It did not enter her mind that she truly had forgotten her past, and who she was.
"We're going to take care of something, then I'll get down to business." Robert Maxwell was loading his weapon as he spoke.
"I've never seen a gun like that before. What is it?"
"A Vigilante R-23 microwave rifle."
"Okay..." she said, not really understanding what he was talking about.
Robert Maxwell debated briefly whether or not to take the girl with him. If she goes, and sees her father die, it may be enough to make her drop all resistance, and become mine to shape and mold. But if I don't take her, then she'll not have to deal with seeing her father die, and may just as well do as I instruct her.
He decided that it would be the best course of action for her to go with him, so they performed a bodyslide to her home in Los Angeles.
Her father was reading the newspaper, looking for some sign of what had happened to his daughter. He saw his daughter, and a middle-aged stranger, appear before him. "The hell..." he managed to say before a large firearm was leveled on him. "Wh-what are you going to do to him?" the girl asked.
"He has to die, Jennifer."
Sidney Berkeley was about to speak, when a round was fired into his chest. It was a green bolt of energy that seared his heart and surrounding organs. He fell backwards, clutching his wound. Jennifer began yanking Robert's arm. "You're killing him!" she shouted, tears running down her face. With great force, Robert Maxwell threw her to the floor. Suddenly, he felt a pang of guilt. The girl was lying on the floor, sobbing, both because of the soreness in her body, and from the man dying on the other side of the table. And it was because of him. He dropped his weapon, and knelt next to her. "I'm so sorry, Jennifer. I'll try to help you--"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, swinging her arm at him.
He entered her mind again, and while easing her physical pain, he slowly pushed away her memories of this day. Sexually abused by her father...raped by the first person she loved...then forced to watch as I kill her father. What kind of world am I creating here? Now I am as guilty and evil as those I seek to destroy...
Solemnly, he performed a bodyslide back to Inferno, and lay Jennifer's sleeping form upon one of the many beds within the ship. As he stood at the doorway, he whispered. "I'm sorry, Jennifer. For what you've been through. For what I've done to you. And for the person I am going to turn you into. I am sorry."
He shut the door, and his conscience began to gnaw at him in a way he never thought it could.
...
"So you forced her to watch you kill her father?" Bluespark said, the anger showing in his eyes. "What kind of sadist are you?"
"It was a mistake, Mitchell. I should not have forced her to see that."
"Damn right, you asshole! How could you do that to her?"
"I am not the same person I used to be, Mitchell. My methods, in the past, were fierce and ruthless. Now, I am not saying that I deserve to be forgiven what I have done, I simply wish for you to understand what I've been trying to do."
"What you have been 'trying to do' is fuck up all our lives! Just so we can fight your fucking war to 'save' the future! You were never anything more than a shitload of LIES!" Bluespark stormed from the room, Thresh maintaining her silence.
"Jennifer, why are you not speaking?" the Harbinger asked.
"I'm confused, Robert. You made me the person I am today, and yet you ruined me. Why did you do this to me? For what reason did you choose me?"
"You were listed in my historical database as having enormous potential."
"What, this?" She moved her fingers through the air, white sparkles trailing from her fingertips. "That's all my mutant power does. Not enough to even be called a 'power.'"
"Your potential lies not in your genetic heritage, but your mental ability. I've tested you myself, Jennifer. Your IQ is...well...let's just say it's extremely high. Higher than mine, to be honest. You are, I believe, the key to my perfect strategy. A strategem that will save the future, and everyone in it."
"I don't think I care about this future anymore, Robert. Not when I can never escape the past."
While she now knew the truth, Jennifer Reston was a long way from recovery. Only time would tell if she could overcome the obstacles in her life.
--End Chapter Ten--
Epilogue: Dangerous Alliances
Nedereth waited outside Apothecary's detention cell, and listened to his former friend's plea.
"Paul, you have to let me out of here...it's imperative that I get back to Earth!"
"You break into Inferno, try to kill both Robert and Mitchell, and expect us to simply let you go? You are obviously insane."
"There is a mission I've been undertaking lately... I just let my temper get the better of me... I apologize. If you will just give me my sword out of storage, I'll be on my way."
"Vengeance is staying in storage unless and until the Harbinger instructs us to do otherwise with it. And you're going to sit in that cell until further notice."
"Paul, just let me out! I can't tell you what my mission is, but you have to believe it's for a noble cause."
Nedereth nodded. "You apparently think I've gotten stupider these last two years. You're not leaving, and that's final."
"I'm afraid you have very little choice this time." One of the walls in Apothecary's cell crumbled, revealing his mystic sword, Vengeance. "As you can see, my sentinel nano-tech--what's let of it--has been going through the ship finding my sword. And now I'll just be on my way." Microscopic nano-robots approached Nedereth and crawled through the pores in his skin. They temporarily shut down his respiratory system, and he passed out. Then Apothecary had them disable the forcefield around his cell. He picked up his sword, and left the cell. "I know who has the Obelisk of Arcadia, Paul. And I'll stop at nothing to have its power for myself." He left Nedereth's unconscious body on the floor, and tapped into Inferno's transportation systems. He began a bodyslide, and disappeared through the timestream, heading back for Earth.
...
Bluespark entered his quarters, just beginning to cool down from his earlier conversation with the Harbinger. He was still angry, and decided he would lose himself in some "work". He had considered hanging out with Luthos and Dragonmaster, but he knew they were both on Earth, searching for the Obelisk of Arcadia. Nedereth was probably drinking again. And Thresh... he tried not to think about her. That she would still trust Robert Maxwell after all he had put her through was a fact he could not cope with. He was, for the first time, glad he had made his recent alliance with another organization. He inserted a diskette into his computer, and viewed the contents:
INFERNO.3DS
HISTDAT.DOC
FUTURDAT.DOC
HARBDAT.DOC
HYDRA.DOC
He initiated his direct connection to the backbone of the Internet, and logged into the computer he sought. The advantages of having the most advanced computer in the galaxy, he mused. The person he was expecting was, indeed, present on the computer he had penetrated. He activated a real-time conferencing program, and was greeted.
H11665: Hello, Brother.
BSPARK: Greetings.
H11665: Are the files ready?
BSPARK: Yes.
H11665: Send them immediately.
Bluespark initiated the file transfer, and waited quietly as they were uploaded to the remote system. He tapped his fingers on the desk, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Damn, it's taking too long... It might be traced."
TRANSFER COMPLETE
H11665: Contact will be re-established upon the formulation of new orders.
BSPARK: Understood.
H11665: Hail HYDRA.
BSPARK: Hail HYDRA.
--End of Vantage Point--Coming Next: The Rift