Lydecker�s HQ � Tuesday, December 7, 2021, early morning

About an hour before sunrise, Colonel Lydecker emerged from
the Command Post tent.� He stood under the awning, next to a heavy
table.� The early morning air was clean and crisp; Lydecker could
see his breath.� He blew on his hands to warm them, and zipped up
his M-65 field jacket.� He pressed a button on the side of his chronograph
wristwatch, tilting the dial up to his face.� �Don�t do that,� said
a voice, and Zack emerged from the shadows.� �You�ll illuminate your
face.�

Zack was dressed in woodland camouflage, trousers and a T-shirt. He�d left his parka back in
his tent.� Despite the cold, he didn�t need it, and he wasn�t trying
to pass for human.� In camp, in the wilderness, there was no one to
impress.

When Zack didn�t continue, Lydecker asked, �Is there something
I should know?�

�Who knows what you should or shouldn�t know?� Zack shot back.

Lydecker squinted in the darkness.� While the X5’s military
bearing was ingrained, his attitude � although not hostile enough
to be a direct challenge to the colonel�s authority � was something
short of respectful.� �What happened to our agreement?� he asked Zack.

�What agreement?� said Zack, glancing over his shoulder.� He
was scanning the tree line with his enhanced night vision.� He turned
his attention back to Lydecker. “The one
where you say �Jump,� and I say, �How High?�”

�Yes,� said Lydecker, with a precise nod.� �That agreement.�

�I�m doing exactly what I said I would.� I�m drilling your
commandos.�

�You�re being insubordinate,� Lydecker said.

�Court-martial me,� said Zack.� �Or maybe you could poke me
with a cattle prod.�

�Lydecker sighed, and rubbed the rough stubble on his chin.�
�I�m putting together a battalion,� he began.

�You�re putting together your own private army,� Zack corrected.

�I�m offering structure to soldiers who desperately need it,�
said Lydecker.� �The others…they look at you��

�What do you want from me?� Zack snapped.

�Son,� Lydecker said, sighing,� �For a long time, you were
a thorn in my side��

�Don�t call me ‘son,’� Zack interrupted, sounding dangerous.�

Lydecker blew out a vaporous breath.� �That wasn�t what I meant
to say,� he said carefully. �I wanted to tell you that you were always
one of the best.� While you were unquestionably one of Manticore�s
biggest failures, you were also one of its greatest successes.�

Zack crossed his arms over his chest, looking bored.� �I�m
not here for a pep talk,� he said.� �Or to reminisce about old times.�
In fact, your personal safety is less at risk if you don�t bring up
old times at all.�

�Duly noted,� Lydecker said.� �Let�s talk about new times.�
Let�s talk about what�s going on right now in this country, and what�s
coming.�

�I�m listening,� Zack said.

Outside Jam Pony

Locking up her bike, Max became aware of the woman before she
actually approached.� Her scent wafted Max�s way on a light current
of air.� Max tilted back her head, her nostrils flaring.� She smelled
perfume � very expensive perfume.� A moment later, a timid but cultured
voice said, �Excuse me?�

�Yeah?� Max looked up and saw a trim, elegant woman.� She had
reddish-blonde hair pulled back into a sleek chignon.� She was wearing
a long camel coat, over a green silk dress.� The woman opened and
closed her mouth.� Max raised an eyebrow.� �What can I do for you?�

Still, the woman hesitated.� She pulled her coat closed, gripping
the collar with a manicured hand.�� When she finally spoke, the words
came out in a rush. �Is this Jam Pony X-press?�

�That�s what the sign says,� Max replied.� She picked her backpack
up off the ground, and held it by the strap. �You got a package?��
When the woman didn�t respond, Max tried again.� �You picking up a
package?�

�Is this where all the transgenics are?�� The woman seemed
nervous.

Max was immediately suspicious.� �Nope,� she said, slinging
the backpack over her shoulder.� �No transgenics here.� Not a one.�

The woman bit her lip, peering at Max�s face.� �I know you.��
Her voice was breathy.� �You�re one of them!�

�What do you want, lady?� Max said impatiently.� �I gotta get
to work.�

�I�m looking for some of your brethren,� the woman said stiffly.

�Some of my brethren?� Max said, uneasily shifting her weight
from one foot to the other.

�Yes,� said the woman.� �Some of your � you know � male
brethren.�

�My male brethren,� Max repeated, her forehead wrinkling.�
�What for?�

�That would be between me and them.�� The woman flushed.� �Or
me and him…when I find him.�

�Him, who?� said Max.

�Whichever one I find,� the woman said vaguely.� �Whoever is
the most likely candidate.�

�Candidate for what?� Max asked.

�Oh,� said the woman, sounding embarrassed.� �Nothing.� So,
are there any male transgenics working here?�

�I already told you, no,� Max said.� �What do you want?�

�It�s complicated,� said the woman.

�All right,� Max said, rolling her eyes.� �Nice talking to
you.�� She went inside the building.

Jam Pony

Jam Pony was loud and busy.� The television was blaring, as
were two radios tuned to different stations.� Normal was in the cage,
sorting parcels and answering the phone. Messengers picked up and
dropped off packages.� Max met Original Cindy by the counter.� Original
Cindy made a gesture, and Max turned in a circle so her friend could
see her new ‘do.� �Much better,� Original Cindy said approvingly.

�Thanks,� said Max.

�For a change.�

�Thanks a lot!� Max said, laughing.�

Sketchy wheeled his bike between the girls, saying, �Beep,
beep.�

�Excuse you,� said Max, stepping out of the way.

�Thank you very much.�� Sketchy emptied his pouch on the counter.�
�Max, there�s a wicked hottie out front asking everybody if they�re
a transgenic.�

�I know,� Max said.� �I had a thoroughly unsatisfactory conversation
with her.� I couldn�t figure out what the hell she wanted.�

�I�ll tell you what she wanted,� said Sketchy, turning the
bill of his cap to the side.� Leaning forward, he stage-whispered,
�She made me an indecent proposal.�

Max and Original Cindy both laughed.

�That’s the God�s honest truth!� said Sketchy, sounding hurt.�
�Then, when I told her I wasn�t a transgenic, she moved on to someone
else.� He tapped his temple with his forefinger.� �She�s crazy.��
He balanced his bike on its rear tire, and wheeled it away.

�Huh,� said Max.

�A lady takes care of her personal appearance,� Original Cindy
said, seizing the opportunity to return to their initial conversation.�
�Even if she has to be all the time saving the world.�

�What?� asked Max, distracted.� She turned back to her friend,
and smiled affectionately.� �So true.� It�s one of the burdens
of womanhood.� We have to save the world, but we still have to look
good doing it.�

�Don�t your head feel lighter?� asked Original Cindy.� �You
must feel better like this.�

�Not so much,� said Max, as she was swept by a wave of nausea.�
She rocked unsteadily.� �Oof!� she exclaimed.

�What�s the matter, boo?� Original Cindy asked, catching Max
around the waist.

Leaning heavily on Original Cindy, Max put a hand to her forehead.�
�That’s strange,� she said.� �I almost lost my balance.�

Normal popped up from behind his counter, his headset dangling
around his neck.� �Break it up, you two!� he snapped.� �This is a
place of business, not one of your Sapphic sex shows!�

Original Cindy made a face.� �Sapphic sex show?� she repeated.�
In the background, the phone rang.

Max groaned again.� �I feel sick to my stomach.�

�Suddenly, so do I,� Original Cindy said.

Normal pursed his lips.� �Hmm,� he said.� �On second thought
. . .�

�Don�t say it!� Original Cindy snapped.

�As you were,� Normal said sweetly.� He turned away to answer
the phone.

�What did he just say?� Max asked.� �My head is spinning.�

�If there are Sapphic sex shows,� OC groused, �I would like
to know about it.�

�I�m really not feeling well here,� Max told her friend.

�Come on,� Original Cindy said, getting a better grip on Max.�
�The further you are from Normal, the better you�ll feel.�� They shuffled
to the lounge area.� Max dropped onto one of the worn sofas with a
grateful sigh.� She wrapped her arms around herself, and closed her
eyes, taking deep breaths.� Original Cindy settled down beside her,
and gave her a wise, speculative look.� �Feelin� sick?� she asked.�
�Got a tummy ache?�

�Yeah,� said Max unhappily.� �I wish I knew what was wrong
with me.�

Original Cindy touched Max lightly on the knee.� She said,
�I don�t suppose you�ve given any thought to starting a family?�

�What?� said Max, startled.� �No!� Why do you ask?�

Original Cindy smiled.� �Boo,� she said gently.� �You and Logan.�
You told me that the two of you . . .�

�But I can�t,� said Max.

�I know transgenics can get pregnant,� Original Cindy said.�
�I delivered a transgenic baby right upstairs.�� She shrugged.� �I
helped, anyways.�

�Transgenics can get pregnant,� said Max, frowning.� �Of course
they can.�

�Can�t you get pregnant by humans?�

�Of course,� said Max.� �Jace did.�� She looked away.� �And
Tinga.�� She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

�See?� Original Cindy said.� �You�re all hormonal.�

�No,� said Max, in a small voice.� �Just thinking about sad
things.�

�If you�re pregnant…would it be a happy thing?� Original
Cindy asked.� Her tone was very delicate.� �Or a sad thing?�

Max put a finger to Original Cindy�s lips.� �Shush,� she said.�
�It�s not true.� It can�t be.�

�What do you mean?� said Original Cindy.� �Didn�t they teach
you anything at the Manticore?� Nothin’s for sure, except not doing
it at all.�

�No,� Max said, sighing harshly.� She stared off into the distance,
her eyes cloudy.� �It�s not that.� It�s me.� I can�t.�

Advanced Recombinant Genetics Laboratory, Terminal City � July
1, 2021

�We must get started,� Sandeman said urgently, standing up.�
�Joshua, please go on ahead to the infirmary and have Aveta prepare
blood collection equipment.� We�ll be along shortly.�� Joshua, with
a curious look, turned and left to do as he was asked.� Sandeman gathered
up some papers and started to follow him out the door.

�Hold up,� Max said hotly.� �What is it about my blood that�s
gonna save the world?�

�You�re going to share your immunity,� Sandeman answered with
a smile.� �This is your body�s primary function.� It�ll stop anything
that gets in the way. Any infection, any cell, anything.�� He laid
a hand on her shoulder.� �You were meant to be unique, Max.� There�ll
never be another like you.�

Jam Pony � present day

Max was brought out of her reverie by the sound of explosive
laughter.� There was a crowd of messengers in the doorway.� They were
talking excitedly, making ribald comments.� �Normal,� yelled one of
the guys.� �Can I borrow your stamp pad?�

�Hey, boo,� Original Cindy said over the noise.� �Whatcha thinkin�?�
You spaced on me.”

�There will be no stamping,� Normal shouted from the cage.

�Oh,� Max said, in response to Original Cindy�s question.�
�I guess I was thinking…I�m just a mule.�

�Not on your necks,� Normal cried.� �Not on any portion of
your anatomies!�

Original Cindy flashed an irritated look at Normal, and turned
back to Max.� �Ain�t we all?�� She waved a hand, indicating their
surroundings.� �Regular pack mules.�

From the cage, Normal barked, �The last time someone borrowed
my stamp pad, I almost had to shoot him!�

�Is
that a �no?��” another messenger asked, sounding very disappointed.�
�Because we have a chance with some high-class honeys, here.�

Max tried to focus on Original Cindy.� �I mean me,� she said.�
�I�m…I�m sterile.�

�What?� said Original Cindy, sounding shocked.� �How do you
know that?�

�Sandeman made this comment . . .� Max told her friend what
the old man had said.� �It didn�t mean much to me at the time, but
I think I get it now.� I wasn�t built to reproduce.�

�That�s sick!� said Original Cindy hotly.� �And mean, too!
�It makes no sense!�

�There�s so much about Sandeman that never made sense.�� Max
drew up a leg and rested her forehead against her knee.� �Maybe it
was just that he worked so much in secret…I don�t know.�� She broke
off, thinking.� When she continued, her voice was contemplative.�
�Everything had to be a hint, or a riddle…like the runes.� He couldn�t
just come out and tell me about my screwed-up genes.�

Original Cindy shook her head in frustration.� �He went to
a lot of trouble to make you.� Having you be a one-shot deal…well,
you never said Sandeman was stupid.�

�What do you mean?� asked Max.� There was more excited commentary
from the doorway, and Max looked up, irritated.� �Oh, brother,� she
said.� �What now?�

Sketchy approached the girls, wheeling his bike.� �It�s that
woman I told you about, Max.� The crazy lady.�

�She didn�t look crazy to me,� Max said.� �Well, maybe a little.�
She was weird, but she just seemed like another rich lady.� You know
the type.�

�There are some other ones outside now, too,� he said, grinning.�
�And they�re all-American Grade-A babes.�� He gave a big thumbs-up.�
�Every single one gets two of these from Inspector Sketch Master.�

�What the hell is going on?� demanded Max.

�They�re offering money for…sex.� To have sex with transgenics.��

Max�s jaw dropped.� �Excuse me?� she said.� Her eyes were huge.

�Whoa,� said Original Cindy, throwing up her hands.� �To each
her own, but Original Cindy draws the line at paying for a good time.�

�What are they?� Max said disgustedly.� �Groupies?�

Sketchy�s face became thoughtful.

�You are much too sickly to be a transgenic,� Original Cindy
pointed out.

�Thanks,� Sketchy said sourly.� He wheeled his bike away.

�And ugly!� Original Cindy called after him.

�That was harsh,� Max said, biting back a smile.

�Original Cindy was feeling like she had to nip that in the
bud.�

�Yeah,� Max said.� �Maybe it�s just as well.�

�What are these silly sistahs after?� Original Cindy said,
scrunching up her nose.

�Oh, man,� said Max, as suddenly, she figured it out.� Unconsciously,
she put a protective hand on her stomach.� Original Cindy saw the
gesture, and smiled.��

Max was shaking her head, looking incredulous.� With a jolt,
Original Cindy realized what Max was thinking, and her eyes widened.�
�No,� she breathed.� �Those women…they want the transgenics to knock
them up?�

�After everything that�s happened,� Max said, �after everything
I�ve done and seen, nothing much surprises me anymore.�

�Wow,� said Original Cindy.� �Make way for the super babies.�

�Could it really be that easy?� Max said in wonderment.� �After
all the anger?� After all the propaganda and the fear?�� Some crazy
women decide to practice amateur eugenics, and suddenly transgenics
are the new fad in Seattle?�

�You gonna tell the others?� Original Cindy asked.� �Issue
a general alert?�

Max began to laugh.� �Oh, God,� she said.� �Nobody have sex!�
Everybody keep your pants zipped!�

Original Cindy was laughing too.� �They�ll figure it out,�
she managed to gasp.

Fogle Towers

Logan was at his workstation, deep in thought.� He was staring
at the computer monitor, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.�
Gradually, he became aware of a shadowy presence behind him.� He wheeled
around, saying, �How long have you been standing there?�

�You rang?� Alec grinned.

�Yeah,� Logan said, flexing his shoulders.� He took off his
glasses and rubbed his eyes.� �I was hoping you could give me a hand
with something.� Eyes Only business.�

�Where�s your girlfriend?� Alec asked.� �She likes to play
super hero.�� The expression on Logan�s face made him pause.� �Something
you�re not telling me?�

Sighing, Logan looked away.� �Like, that Max and I had a disagreement
over me playing my cards too close to my vest?� No, nothing like that.�

Alec made a face.� �Your legs?��

Logan nodded, looking unhappy.� His hands slid down to the
rims of his wheels.�

�It�s not a secret anymore?� Alec asked.

�It�s not a secret anymore,� Logan confirmed.� He rolled his
wheelchair slightly forward.

Alec shrugged.� �At least you can look forward to the make-up
sex.�

Despite himself, Logan smiled.� �Trust you to find the silver
lining.�

�So, I�m just here to pinch hit for Max.� You know, I�m very
busy these days.� Acting put upon, Alec turned away and went to stand
by the window.� Over his shoulder, he said,� �I have a business to
run.�

Logan�s upper lip twitched.� �I know.�� He cleaned his glasses
on his sweater.� �How�s the glamorous world of detection treating
you?�

Alec looked out the window.� �Fine,� he said defensively, his
breath fogging the glass.� �Amazing.� We just got a new client.�

�Great,� said Logan.� �Good for you.�

Alec huffed on the glass.� In the resulting cloudy patch, he
wrote his name with the tip of his finger.� �Ah,� he said irritably.�
�Who am I trying to kid?� She was a crackpot.�

�That�s gonna happen,� Logan said, amused.� �What did she want?�

�Sex,� Alec said.� He used his sleeve to wipe away his name.

Logan laughed.

�Seriously,� Alec said.� �She wanted to pay me do it, right
there on the desk.� Again, he breathed on the glass.� This time, he
wrote, �Alec is the coolest.�

�Huh,� said Logan.� �Well, that sounds like it would be right
up your alley.�

�Hey!� Alec protested.� �I am a serious detective.��
He drew an exclamation point after �Alec is the coolest.�

�Clean that off,� Logan said, nodding at the window.

Alec laughed.� �What if Max thinks you wrote it?� Then
you�ll really have something to fight about.�

Logan raised an eyebrow, and Alec grudgingly complied.� �Thank
you,� Logan said.� He put his hands on his knees.� �Look, I don�t
want to rain on your parade or anything . . .�

�Then don�t,� Alec said.

�Starting up a business is hard work.�

�I can work hard,� Alec said peevishly.� �You just haven�t
seen me do it yet.�� With one hand, he picked up a chair, and
brought it over to Logan.� He sat, propping a foot on the corner of
the desk.

�If you say so,� said Logan, and it was his turn to grin.�
He turned back to his computer.� �I was hoping you could do a little,
ah, leg work for me.�

Uncharacteristically, Alec held his tongue.� His brow furrowed,
he glanced at Logan�s wheelchair. He looked away without commenting.

�This is detective work,� Logan said lightly, before
the silence became too thick.� Tapping at the keyboard, he brought
up the schematics of a waterfront warehouse.� �How �bout I hire you?�

�Now you�re talking.�� Alec sat up, attentive.� He leaned over
Logan�s shoulder, staring at the monitor.� �What�s the story?�

�Remember the tip about the stolen food supplies?� Logan asked.

�No,� said Alec.� �Oh, wait…the stuff for the charities?�

�That�s it,� said Logan.� �It�s being diverted to the black
market, and sold at jacked-up prices.� An informant gave up the guy
behind the scam.� He�s a captain in the sector police.�

“So, expose him,� Alec said.� �What do you need me for?�

Logan shot him a look.� �Proof,� he said.

�Oh, that,� said Alec.� �Gotcha.�

Logan pointed at the computer screen.� �I�ve managed to track
down the warehouse where the supplies are being stored, but I need
hard evidence.� Footage of the bad guys in action.� I�ll broadcast
the info and blow the lid off the whole scheme.�

�And that will be your good deed for the week.�� Alec shrugged.�
�I guess I can swing it.�

�You just have to break into the warehouse, and plant some
cameras for me.�

�Cool,� Alec said.� �I mean, the breaking in part.� That�s
always a good time.�

�This will be a piece of cake for you,� Logan said.� �I don�t
see how it can go sour.� You�re in.� You�re out.�

�Wham, bam, thank you, ma�am,� Alec said.� He leaned back and
put his hands behind his head.

Casually, Logan asked, �So, did you take the money?�

�I thought about it,� Alec said, staring up at the ceiling.�
�But here�s the thing.� She wasn�t the only one.�

�What do you mean?�� Logan turned to look at him.

�Ah,� said Alec, �I think there�s something in the water.�

�There�s a lot of stuff in the water,� Logan said.

�No,� said Alec.� He sat up so that he could look Logan in
the eye.� �I was approached before.� By some other dames.�

�Dames?�

�I�m a detective now,� Alec said.

�Oh, right,� said Logan.�

�Wealthy types.� Offering me money for my services.�� He seemed
honestly bewildered.� �What�s up with that?�

�That�s odd,� Logan said.� �When did this start?�

�Over the last week, or so.�

�Well,� said Logan.� �I guess I can look into
it.�

�It�s just strange, is all,� Alec said.� �First, I was screwed
because I was a transgenic pariah. Now, they just want to screw me.�

�I�ll ask around,� Logan said.� �But, to be frank, I�m
not sure what you�re complaining about.�