Panic Room � October 17

Logan
had Sebastian on the monitor.

�I�m
sending you the codes to crack the firewalls right now,� Sebastian�s
synthesized voice said in an eerie monotone.

�Thanks,
man. You don�t know how grateful I am.� Logan retrieved the encoded
e-mail and set to work deciphering the message.

�So,
what�s this all about? Why do you need those codes so desperately?�
Sebastian tapped out on the headset.

�I
can�t tell you right now. But if my suspicions pan out, I promise you
the mother of conspiracy theories.� Logan grinned.

�I�ll
hold you to that. You know me and a good conspiracy.� A hint of a smile
played around Sebastian�s mouth.

�That
I do, my friend. You�ll be the first to know. Gotta go now and finish
this.�

As
Sebastian nodded imperceptibly, Logan ended the communication and resumed
his search. Armed with the codes, he cracked the first firewall and
found a file of messages, from members of Manticore�s ruling body, the
Committee, discussing potential candidates for their military program.
Donald Lydecker�s name came up several times as the ideal candidate.

Logan
scrolled through the internal memos, most of which merely ranked the
candidates. Then he came across a copy of an official letter from the
Committee to Lydecker himself, informing him that he was on the short
list of candidates to head up the project. Attached to it was Lydecker�s
reply.

�Dear
Sirs,

Thank
you for your consideration of me to lead Project Manticore�s military
program. While I am flattered to be selected for this position, I must
respectfully decline. As you probably know, my current tour of duty
will end this year. I intend to retire from the military after it ends
and spend more time with my wife, who has been anticipating it even
more than I.

Respectfully,

Donald
M. Lydecker

Captain,
U.S. Army�

The
internal memos that followed chilled Logan to the bone. The message
traffic was heavy, and there was much discussion on how to dissuade
Lydecker from leaving the Army, and more on how to convince him to accept
the position. The methods mentioned became more and more radical as
the Committee members realized that he would be a hard man to persuade.

Conference Room, Manticore Headquarters – 1995

In an elegant conference room, complete with the Manticore
logo set in marble on the wall, the five members of the Committee sat
around a large oval mahogany table discussing their dilemma.

�This Captain Lydecker is the best man for the job.
Look at his record: graduated top of his class from OCS. Purple Heart,
Legion of Merit. Saw combat in the Persian Gulf and elsewhere. Special
Ops. This guy has it all,� the chairman stated.

�Yes, and he wants to throw away all that talent to
leave the Army and � fish or something! What a waste,� the chairman�s
second-in-command replied.

�Well, gentlemen, any ideas on how to make the Captain
change his mind?� the third member, a thin man with a broken nose, asked.

The chairman held up a dossier full of official-looking
papers. �This, gentlemen, is a psychological profile of Captain Lydecker.
I suggest that we will find the solution here. The good captain has
an addictive personality. He has been known to drink too much, although
not in situations that could compromise his military standing.�

The fourth man, whose upright bearing pegged him as
ex-military, picked up the file and thumbed through it. �Hmm. Impressive
record � volunteered for deployment all over the world. Deliberately
put himself in dangerous situations. Almost obsessive in his call to
duty.�

�I think I understand what you are proposing,� Broken
Nose said to the chairman. �Captain Lydecker is a borderline alcoholic.
He is obsessed with his career. He will shortly end his career to spend
his time with the other object of his obsession � his wife.�

�So, it looks like we need to remove the main obstacle
preventing him from devoting himself to this project,� said the second
Committee member.

�Yes. At the unfortunate loss of his wife, he will
most probably fall into alcohol dependency. Once he falls far enough,
gentlemen, we intervene. Enroll him in a 12-step program, get him sober,
then offer him the position again. He can trade his obsession with alcohol
for an obsession with power. To Captain Lydecker, it doesn�t matter
what his addiction is, just so he can indulge it as much as he likes,�
Ex-Military stated.

�How do we propose to make sure all of that happens?�
the second-in-command asked.

�A simple assassination. Or an unfortunate �accident,��
stated the chairman.

�Hmm. Why not? It would certainly solve our problem,�
Broken Nose said.

�Of course it will. He�ll be so grateful for the second
chance � and the distraction � that he will gratefully accept our offer.
What do you say?� the fifth man, who had remained silent until then,
said.

The chairman had a sly expression on his face. �Good
idea. It could work. I say we give it a try. All in favor?�

Every hand went up.

The Lydecker House � 1995

In the middle of the night, a hooded figure dressed
all in black stood at the Lydeckers� front door. Silently, he took a
set of lock-picking tools out of the pouch that hung on a strap at his
waist, and applied one to the door lock. It opened without creaking.
He went in, closing it behind him. The intruder crept into the living
room. Looking around cautiously, he headed toward the stairs that led
up to the bedrooms. As if by rote, he found the master bedroom and looked
in.

Celeste Lydecker slept soundly, alone in the king-size
bed. Conveniently, her husband had been sent out of town on a short
mission and would not be back until the next day. The intruder smiled
into the darkness. Like a cat, he tiptoed into the room. From the pouch,
he took out a syringe and a vial and filled the hypodermic. He leaned
over the sleeping form, and with sure aim, plunged the needle into a
vein.

He stepped back and waited, unmoving. After twenty
minutes, he moved back to the bed and put two fingers on her carotid
artery, seeking a pulse. There was none. Satisfied, the figure crept
out of the room, down the stairs, across the living room, and out the
door, leaving all as he had found it, with one exception.

Panic Room, Terminal City

Stunned
by what he had discovered in the sealed Manticore files, Logan speed-dialed
a little-used number on his cell phone.

�Hello?�
Lydecker�s voice came through on the line.

�Lydecker,
Logan Cale. I�ve got some information for you.�

Mess Hall – Noon

The
line for lunch was moving slowly, causing irritation among the denizens
of Terminal City. Dalton, the young X6 who had defected with Gem, was
helping out the best he could, but he was inexperienced in food service.
When nervous, he was all thumbs.

Finally,
Mole, in a fierce mood after hearing of Max�s smackdown on Rocky, approached
Dalton�s station. The boy dropped an apple as he attempted to place
it on Mole�s tray. As Dalton squatted down to retrieve the piece of
fruit, Mole shouted at him.

�You,
soldier!�

Startled,
Dalton looked up to see Mole glaring down at him. �Y-yes sir?� he stammered.

�You
salute a superior officer, soldier!� Mole shouted at the boy, who cringed
under the verbal assault. �Did you forget everything you learned at
Manticore? Did Manticore teach you to be so clumsy?�

�No,
sir.�

�Well
then, remember your military training! You�re a soldier! Act like one!�
Mole continued on his tirade. �Stand at attention!�

Dalton
looked confused, as well as fearful. Still hunkered down, he looked
around to see a crowd gathering.

�I
said, stand up, soldier! Show some respect!� Dalton stood up slowly,
his lip trembling, eyes downcast. He tried to speak, but could not seem
to get the words out.

Mole�s
rant was so loud that Max and Logan, at the back of the line, heard
every word. Indignant, Max stepped out of the line to take Mole to task.

�Hey!�
she shouted, walking up to the lizard man. �Lay off, Mole! He�s doing
the best he can.�

�Well,
his best isn�t good enough, is it?� Mole sniped back. �You�d think an
X6 would be good at something, wouldn�t you?�

�I
don�t see you volunteering to help serve lunch.� Max glared at
him.

�Yeah,
well, you won�t either. It�s not what I do. I�m a soldier, remember?
Or have you forgotten all about that while you play footsie with your
boy-toy?� Mole sneered.

�Well,
then act like a soldier!� Max ordered as she chose to ignore
the obvious insult.

�And
you would know what that is, how?� Mole drew himself up to his full
height and looked down at Max threateningly, ready for another fight.

At
that point, Logan, who had remained in line while Max dealt with Mole,
left his place and walked up to stand in front of Max, confronting the
transgenic. Angrily, he got in Mole�s face. As they were the same height,
they stood eye to eye, and were able to effectively glare at one another.

�That�s
no way to talk to anyone, Mole. You got problems with me? Settle
them with me. Don�t go bothering other people about it. Max leads
this pack, so don�t overstep your bounds! She doesn�t take orders from
you! You take orders from her!� Logan�s fists were clenched
at his sides so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Mole
shifted his stance into attack mode. The mess hall grew quiet as transgenics
stopped what they were doing and turned to watch the confrontation.
The tension in the air was palpable.

�Logan,
I don�t need you to defend me,� Max said sharply. �I�m perfectly capable
of taking care of myself.�

�Yeah,
chimp, you better step aside before you get hurt,� Mole advised Logan
in a patronizing tone of voice. �Even with that exoskeleton, you can�t
hope to take me on.�

�Well,
I can try, can�t I?� Logan�s nostrils flared in anger and he spoke through
clenched teeth.

�Dammit,
Logan, I�m handling this!� Max snapped. �Back off!�

Alec,
strolling by the mess hall, caught the encounter. In a blur, he rushed
in and grabbed Logan by the collar, dragging him away from Mole and
Max. Once outside the mess hall, Alec let him go.

�Logan,
old buddy, what the hell do you think you were doing in there?� he asked.

�Mole
is all over Max � again. I just can�t stand by.� It looked to Alec that
Logan wasn�t even close to calming down. Logan turned away from Alec
and started to head back to the mess hall, his boots stomping on the
concrete floor. There was fire in his eyes, his face was flushed and
his fists clenched and unclenched.

Alec
put his hand on Logan�s shoulder. �Hey � � he began, but Logan cut him
off.

�Back
off, Alec,� he warned as he glanced toward the mess hall, but didn�t
go any farther.

�Dammit,
man, Mole could have eaten you for lunch � especially now. You know
that.�

�Yeah,
well, maybe,� Logan considered. �But it would have been worth it. I�m
tired of the way he treats Max.�

�That�s
for Max and Mole to settle. You really don�t want to get your clock
cleaned by Lizard Man. And even with the exoskeleton, how long do you
think you could have stayed on your feet? Do you want to risk further
injury?�

Logan
looked down at his feet.

�Damn,
if this is what love does to people, count me out,� Alec said as Logan
stalked off.

Logan�s Quarters, Terminal City – later that day

Alec
sat backwards on the chair at the desk, watching Logan intently as he
fidgeted on the stool in front of the counter. He had taken off the
exoskeleton, which leaned against the counter. Alec was a drinking beer
from Logan�s private stock.

�By
the way, Asha says hello,� Alec said.

�Oh,
is that where you�ve been?�

�Well,
I, uh, ran into her while I was getting your prescription.� Alec grinned
wickedly. �Here.� Alec tossed a package of pills at Logan, who leaned
over to catch them and almost fell off the stool. He missed and clumsily
got up from the stool and bent over to retrieve the package. He opened
it and took out a pill, which he dry swallowed.

�Thanks,�
Logan said. �How is Asha?� He walked toward the bathroom to put
the box of painkillers away.

�She�s
fine � in more ways than one, if you know what I mean,� Alec replied,
eyebrow raised. He noted that Logan�s gait was slightly stiff and that
he dragged his feet a bit. He also noticed that Logan leaned against
the furniture or the wall as he walked, as if to support himself. To
the average person, however, Logan would have seemed almost perfectly
normal, like a jock who had overexerted himself a little in a touch
football game.

�So,�
he continued. �How much longer do you think you can hide this from Max?�

�What?�

�Logan,
can you walk across the room without hanging onto the wall or the furniture?�

�Sure,�
Logan replied, but didn�t move away from the wall.

�So
show me.�

Logan
slowly and carefully walked toward the middle of the room. His steps
were tentative, as if he couldn�t feel the floor. After a few feet,
he nearly fell. Alec jumped up from his chair and caught Logan. He helped
him move back to the stool at the counter. Logan sat down and looked
sheepishly at Alec.

�Alec,
I can�t feel my feet anymore,� he admitted.

�I
rest my case,� Alec said.

Courtyard, Terminal City – evening

Logan,
exoskeleton in place once again, paced back and forth across the courtyard,
working off his frustration. He walked with his hands in his pockets
and his head down, kicking the blades of brown grass. He was so absorbed
in feeling sorry for himself that he didn�t notice Max�s approach.

�Hey,
you,� she said by way of greeting.

Logan
looked up, startled. �Hey.�

�Do
you feel as miserable as you look?� she asked.

�Max,
I�m sorry for sticking my nose into your business today. I had no right
to do that, and I caused even more trouble. You were only trying to
do your job.�

�Well,
it was stupid, but it was kinda nice too, you being all gallant
and chivalrous. Fight the power, protect the downtrodden,� Max said
with a twinkle in her eyes.

�Yeah,
well, you know me, always the gentleman,� Logan replied with a little
laugh.

�Yeah.
And I guess I�m just getting all spun about trying to keep order here,
paying single-minded attention to my mission. Sounds familiar,
doesn�t it?� Max laughed too.

Logan�s Penthouse, Seattle � 2020

�You can�t let go of Manticore any more than I can
let go of Eyes Only. It�s who we are,� Logan said.

Max replied angrily, �If you think you were put on
this earth to be the world�s most pissed off TV news reporter and hide
behind some silly red, white, and blue Halloween mask, then I feel sorry
for you.�

�If you think you were put on this earth to be the
world�s biggest cynic and hide behind some tough-ass attitude, then
I feel sorry for you,� he retorted.

Courtyard, Terminal City – present day

Max
and Logan continued their stroll around the courtyard. �Yeah, it does.
Funny thing about that�� Logan replied continuing to kick at the grass.

�Something�s
still on your mind,� she said.

�I
found out that Lydecker is recruiting transgenics, but I still
don�t know why. And I found out that Manticore lured Lydecker into the
project. The Committee arranged to have his wife murdered�� They leaned
against one of the buildings that surrounded the courtyard.

�I
guess we�re not the only ones manipulated by Manticore, after all,�
Max said. She glanced sideways at Logan and said, �I should have known
you just wanted me to see dear ol� Donald your way.�

Logan
smiled sadly down at her and bent his head, their lips nearly touching.
�Oh, I know how to make you agree with me.�

END
OF ACT IV