Science

Title: Science
Fandom: Digital Devil Saga 2: Avatar Tuner
Pairing: Serph Sheffield x Heat O'Brien
Disclaimer: Characters © Atlus, borrowed without permission for use and abuse.
Length: 1 part [7476 words]
Genre: Drama/angst/yaoi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Massive game spoilers!! Heat's foul mouth, some violence, hardcore M/M sex

A/N: A huge thanks to Sianne for the beta, and also a thanks to everyone who had to sit through me griping and agonizing about this over IM throughout the last week. Your patience and encouragement is appreciated beyond measure.

Additionally, credits to tinuu on youtube for uploading the DDS2 cutscenes that are contained in this fic. Props also to Nirvana (http://yosuga.net/dds) for extensive game info and timeline.

S C I E N C E

“Serph’s precocious,” Argilla said for the umpteenth time, her blonde head bobbing. “He’s young, but look how far the project has come.”

Heat said nothing. Instead, he examined the array of monitors. Seraphita suspended tranquilly in the inhibitor, an organized tangle of cords protruding from her small body. Ticking numerals, EKG readings, a human life depicted in numbers.

Next to the flashing statistics: a washed-out beach scene, virtual copies of his colleagues playing volleyball in the sand. He watched his red-haired self cuff a teammate good-naturedly; the boy grinned. Observing on the monitor, Heat winced. He could see the file clearly in his mind: Cyber Shaman candidate No. 16. Disqualified: Neurotic degradation / dementia. Deceased.

“And he’s so good with her… Number 19, I mean.” Argilla nodded approvingly, her polished nails clicking on the tabletop.

At Heat’s elbow, Schrödinger purred. He flicked the cat’s silver-tipped ear absently. “No, he’s…”

There was a hydraulic hiss as the door behind them slid open.

“Speak of the devil,” Heat muttered.

Argilla swatted his shoulder. “Play nice,” she warned.

“That animal shouldn’t be here,” a slightly pompous voice said quietly in Heat’s ear.

“It’s not causing trouble,” he replied without taking his gaze from the screens. Virtual Sera was building a sandcastle with Cielo and Argilla; Heat watched himself standing awkwardly behind them. Is that how Sera really sees me…? He smiled humorlessly.

“You should not have given it to her,” Serph said. “What use does she have for a pet?”

Heat turned to face his coworker, eyes narrowing. “Maybe if she had more consolation in her life, she wouldn’t need to fabricate these” —he waved his hand at the monitor—“types of fantasies.”

Serph smiled. “This is science,” he said simply. “Don’t be naïve.”

Argilla stood crisply and offered her chair to Serph. “Since you’re back, I will finish preparations for this evening,” she said. The honey in her voice made Heat’s teeth ache.

Serph laid a hand on her shoulder and nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Heat growled as the door hissed open and shut again.

Serph laughed and reached across him to press one of the green buttons beneath the screens. The monitor with the beach scene went black. As he moved to withdraw his arm, Heat grabbed his wrist.

“Sera’s wellbeing should be one of your primary concerns,” Heat snapped. “I’ve told you over and over she’s on the edge right now. Don’t screw this up.”

Serph’s eyes widened. His arm was limp in Heat’s fist. “She’s expendable,” he replied, shrugging.

“Wha…”

“Honestly. Why are you here? You should stop projecting your sensitive nature onto the subjects. Science is objective. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Two chairs crashed to the floor as Heat seized Serph’s collar and hauled him to his feet. “What did you say!” he shouted. Cool, dark eyes stared back at him complacently. His pulse hammered angrily between his temples. He was right… was he right?

The maddening half-smile didn’t leave Serph’s mouth. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Their faces were suddenly very close—close enough for Heat to feel the warmth of Serph’s cheek next to his own. He shuddered as lips brushed his ear:

“The power of God is attainable. I will obtain it.” Heat jerked as Serph’s tongue flicked over his neck. “Don’t stand in my way.”

There was a crackle of static as the intercom buzzed, startling Heat. He staggered back and shoved the other man from him, his face burning.

“Dr. Sheffield,” Margot Cuvier’s voice broke over them. “You are needed on the EGG deck.”

Backing into the doorway, Serph stroked his chin. “I will see you at dinner this evening, Dr. O’Brien,” he said lightly before the door slid closed on him.

Heat stood unmoved. He listened to his own heart outstrip the low beeping of Sera’s cardiac readouts. Schrödinger had fled beneath the table during his outburst. Furiously, he slammed one of the chairs back on its legs and flung himself into it.

When he finally looked at the monitors again, Sera had opened her eyes. Serph’s voice was tender, but tinny through the small speakers.

“Hi Sera. We’re going to start now, okay? It won’t be long. And we’ll go on that boat ride soon, how about that?”

In the inhibitor, Sera nodded. Somehow, her round eyes held a mixture of both hope and fear.

It was the most dreadful expression Heat had ever seen.

o-o-o

Even if Karma City did not sleep at night, the EGG facility did. The God Project staff dorms were in the extremities of the beast, the inhibitor at its heart.

Heat stood outside the building, the smog-warmed air dampening his collar. One story above him, the steel balcony to Serph's apartment reflected the muted city lights. In their hazy glow, Heat could see the sliding door was slightly ajar. Turning, he inspected the rain gutter on the building wall. It looked flimsy, but if he could climb it to the cooling unit, he could step from there to the balcony.

Through the balcony door was Serph's personal identification card—the digital strip that would grant him access to the God Project's mental communications laboratory.

Heat's nails dug into his palms. When had he become this desperate? Serph's success in subverting him from more and more aspects of the project... he couldn't be imagining it.

He kicked off his shoes. He wasn't wearing socks. The gutter dented immediately under his weight, but it held. The metal seams were sharp. His hands, the soft hands of a doctor, bled easily and the cuts stung with sweat.

Still, he managed to scale the wall with relative ease. The air conditioner shuddered once as he shifted his weight onto it but like all Karma Society property, it was well maintained and didn't give.

He let out a nervous breath and crouched there for a moment, his back pressed against the building. On the other side of the wall, his colleague—friend, adversary—slept. He wiped his bloody palms on his black t-shirt. Cautiously, he extended a bare foot and braced it on the balcony. Spreading his legs wide, he leaned over, grabbed the rail with both hands, and hauled himself over it.

He landed with an awkward thump and froze, half-expecting Serph's puzzled face to appear at the door. Seconds crawled by—nothing. Heat breathed again.

Painstakingly, on all fours, he inched forward and set his eye to the open door.

The room was empty.

Shit... where the hell is he?

The bed was untouched, meticulously made. Next to it, the standard silver dorm lamp and alarm clock sat on a glass nightstand. Across the spotless carpet, a half-filled pitcher of water and two glasses glinted from a narrow dresser. And next to the dresser, a chair...

Heat rose to his knees and quietly slid the door wide enough to permit his head. Serph's lab coat was draped over the back of the chair. Clipped to it, his plastic access card reflected a thin strip of white light.

Light from where...?

The door glided soundlessly on its track and Heat's shoulders were in the room. The light was coming from beneath a closed door that he knew to be the sitting room and kitchenette. His eyes darted to the flashing LED clock on the nightstand.

3:29 AM.

What the hell is he doing awake?

He had his hips and one leg in the room before the low drone of voices reached him. He knocked his ankle clumsily against the doorjam and bit his tongue in startled pain. Clutching his leg, he crawled through the door and laid flat on his stomach, listening.

Serph's unctuous tone, and... Argilla?!

Heat almost grinned. A lover's meeting, then. He should be fine as long as they didn't decide to come to bed before he could make his escape. He scrambled to his feet and crossed the room as swiftly as caution would allow.

It was so simple. The badge was in his pocket. Now he could...

“Heat has been complaining again.” Argilla's voice was muffled by the door, but now that he was standing next to it, the words were unmistakable.

Serph's voice next, sounding amused: “Oh? About what?”

There was a clinking that sounded like ice cubes being swirled in a tumbler. “Lack of shared privileges. He says Number 19's physical health is tied inextricably to her communication with God, so...”

Serph chuckled as Heat's heart made a quick ascent into his throat.

“I think... he might try something, Serph.”

“That would be very foolish.”

Still clutching the card in his pocket, Heat took one shaking step away from the door. The rage—was it tinged with panic?—mounting behind his eyes made his navigation back to the balcony more difficult. Once outside, he forced his trembling hands not to slam the door.

Serph had turned Argilla, his direct subordinate, spy on him. Of course. He was stupid and blind to have relinquished his frustrations to her.

He tore his shirt from the collar to his navel as he skidded back down the gutter, but he didn't care. He had the card. He could go to the lab and turn the entire experiment on its damned head.

He landed flat-footed on the concrete hard enough to feel his knees buckle. Jamming his shoes back on, he ran full-tilt to the side entrance. Spitefully, he thrust Serph's card into the slot instead of his own; the door hissed open. Inside, he lowered his head and ducked into the elevator.

o-o-o

The laboratory level was still as a tomb. Behind sealed doors and panels of protective glass, all manner of experiments waited for their staff to return in the morning. Heat passed them blindly. His heart still occupied the same space as his larynx. He had eyes only for the door at the end of the hall, the one marked Mental Communications L, and below that: Restricted Access.

He fumbled putting Serph's card into the electronic slot. What did he plan to do, anyway? The chemicals and equipment behind this door were the heart and soul of the Karma Society. They were the billion-dollar poisons that Serph and his employees injected into the children to create peepholes into God's world.

Is that what we're worth? What we're good for? Heat asked himself as the green light above the doorknob blinked approval.

“Sir. You don't belong here.”

Heat did not turn. His arm continued to push the heavy door open. “Don't stop me.”

“Sir.”

A cold gun barrel pressed into the small of his back, accompanied by a gloved hand on the nape of his neck.

Without thinking, he threw an elbow and caught the guard in the ribs by virtue of surprise. There was a brief grunt, but the Society spared no expense on security—the stock of the gun struck him squarely at the top of the spine. Heat dropped to the floor like a sack of meat.

As he struggled to see past an army of pin dots, he heard the guard flip his radio open and call into it, “Excuse me, sir? I apologize for waking you, but we have a situation.”

To Heat's horror, it was Serph's voice that answered:

“Yes, what is it?”

“I am patrolling the area as you instructed. An intruder accessed your laboratory. It appears he has a working pass card.”

Heat could only watch as a white-gloved hand reached down and retrieved Serph's badge from the floor beside him.

On the radio, there was a pause. No doubt Serph was checking his coat. “...I see.” Another moment's silence. Then, “Is the intruder Dr. O'Brien?”

Heat groaned and squinted as the guard clicked on his flashlight and directed the beam at his face. “Affirmative,” he said crisply into the radio.

“Your orders are to keep him detained there. I will be over shortly.”

The guard nodded his helmeted head. “Yes sir!” he hailed before the radio beeped off.

“Watch it, fucker!” Heat snarled as rough hands seized his arms. He twisted one leg up and kicked the other man in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards. Scrabbling against the wall for support, he pulled himself to his feet—but the door had swung closed, the access card now in the hands of the guard.

“Damn it!”

“I don't know what you are attempting, but Dr. Sheffield was right to order a patrol here.” The guard had regained his footing. His helmet light trained on Heat's face, he held his weapon in one hand and dangled a pair of heavy handcuffs from the other. “He did not specify by what means I was to detain you. It is in your best interests not to force me to shoot you... sir.”

Heat stared at him. His head was pounding and white-hot pains fired up and down his back. “That... bastard...” he whispered as the guard approached confidently, pulling the cuffs open.

“Don't fucking touch me!” he growled. Ignoring him, the guard grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. His wrists were wrestled into the cuffs and the Society soldier let him slide to the floor. Twisting, Heat glared up at him.

The guard was examining his own hands in puzzlement, his gloves stained splotchy red. “What the... hell have you been up to tonight, Dr. O'Brien?” he asked.

Heat couldn't see his face past the glare of the flashlight, now trailing down the front of his torn t-shirt. “None of your damn business.”

Down the hall, the echo of footsteps approached. Heat shook his head furiously.

Serph materialized out of the darkness behind the guard, nodding at him to step aside. “Heat...”

There was something in his voice that enraged Heat; was it amusement at his predictability? “Serph!”

The guard passed the access card to Serph. “He was carrying this.”

Serph nodded and Heat continued to glower up at him. “That is all. You may leave.”

The soldier hesitated, the beam of his light swinging back to illuminate Heat's face. He knew they could both see the fury there.

“Are you sure, sir?”

One corner of Serph's mouth curled. “Yes, I'm sure. Leave the key to his handcuffs.”

“Very good then.” The soldier took a small electronic chip from a ring clipped to his belt and dropped it into Serph's open palm. “Good night, doctors,” he said. Then he turned and strode off down the hallway, leaving them in semi-darkness.

“You...”

“Stand up,” Serph commanded, tapping his identification card against his chin. “You were so eager to see the lab, it would only be proper courtesy for me to give you a tour.” He smiled.

Heat didn't move. “What the hell are you up to...”

Serph cocked an eyebrow and scratched his head. “Heat,” he sighed in mock exasperation, “you stole my badge to break into my lab...” He didn't finish. They both knew he didn't need to.

“Tch.” Heat scowled at the floor. The silence stretched for a few long seconds. Finally, he looked up. “You're being an ass,” he blurted angrily. “Integrate the divisions. You can't shut me out without expecting the entire project to suffer!”

Serph regarded him coolly. “Actually,” he mused, “It's strange, but I think you want to hinder our progress.”

Damn it...

“Of course I don't,” Heat snapped. “I...”

Serph shuffled forward on his knees. In the dim light from the paneled windows, Heat could make out that he was wearing his lab coat over a white t-shirt and surgical trousers. Leaning forward, Serph grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him to his feet.

“Take these things off,” Heat groused, jerking his head back to indicate the cuffs.

Serph slid his card carefully into the reader. “I think not,” he said quietly, holding the door open and stepping aside.

Heat glared at him as he entered the dark laboratory. “Oh come on. I'm not gonna try to jump you, Serph.” Behind him, the door sealed shut. He moved forward a few steps and waited for the other man to turn the lights on, his eyes straining in the blackness. “...Serph?”

“I'm not concerned that you'll attack me.”

Heat whirled toward the direction of the voice, but his elbow caught the edge of one of the metal tables. He cursed under his breath, his arm throbbing. “Turn on the damn lights! Or do you plan to give me a tactile tour of the lab?”

“...Isn't our goal the same?”

Serph was directly in front of him, but he could barely distinguish his dim outline. Before he could reply, a hand reached out and touched his cheek.

“What does God mean to you, Heat?” Fingertips traveled over his lips, tracing the corners of his mouth.

Heat jerked his head away. “I want to find the cure for the Cuvier Syndrome,” he muttered. He was breathing faster than he liked. Serph's silhouette had advanced another step; he tried to slide sideways along the table and found an outstretched leg blocking him. “What the hell are you doing!” he barked.

“We both want to learn about God's power,” murmured Serph.

Heat jumped as cool fingers played about the torn collar of his shirt. They followed the rip down his chest, parting the frayed fabric. He struggled against the cuffs. “If... if you aren't going to give me a tour, I should hit the sack...” he wheezed. There was too much air in his voice. Shit.

Low, closed-mouth laughter rang in his ear. Serph's wandering hand reached his navel and, gaining purpose, ripped his shirt to the hem. The tearing sound was disturbingly loud in the silent room.

“You're insane,” Heat hissed. His hands flexed behind his back, straining in the metal cuffs.

Serph spread the torn shirt open and stroked the tense muscles of Heat's stomach with his fingertips. “Not at all,” he breathed. “We're men of science. When a problem is put before us, we use logic and study to solve it.”

Heat's chest heaved. “How is... this solving anything logically...?” he managed.

Serph brushed strands of hair from Heat's neck as his other hand curled down a hip. His fingers dipped inside the waistband of Heat's trousers to loosen them. “Everything in the world exists solely to serve a higher purpose,” he murmured vaguely, his breath moist, lips brushing a cheek. The lab was well-cooled, but Heat felt beads of perspiration slide past his temples. Slowly, he shook his head.

“You're wrong—”

Serph bit him. Sharp teeth broke the sensitive skin below his ear. Gasping, Heat tried to raise his arms to shove the younger man away, the handcuffs slicing into his wrists. His skin crawled with—something, some unwanted sensation—as Serph licked the pinpricks of blood welling from the bite marks.

Furious, Heat tried to curse, but Serph was quicker than he expected. The mouth that devoured his was hot and insistent, bearing a bruising tongue that forced its way past his teeth. The hand on his neck shifted to fist his hair. It bent his head back until the kiss was broken and he stared helplessly upwards, the edge of the table digging uncomfortably into his back.

“You need to make sacrifices to learn about God,” Serph whispered against his exposed throat. His voice sounded oddly rough. Heat's eyes watered as his neck craned. Their bodies were close enough for him to feel Serph's hard warmth pressed against his inner thigh.

Serph yanked his hair and he lurched and crashed backwards onto the table, his arms pinned beneath him. There was an accompaniment of shattering glass as a set of vials sailed to the floor. At his waist, Serph deftly undid his buckle and zipper. Settling his body between Heat's spread knees, he leaned forward and grasped one bare nipple between his fingers. He bent low and Heat gasped as a hot tongue meandered up his midline, scouting the dips and hollows of his body.

“Wh... what the hell, Ser—”

Serph rubbed the nipple hard in response, pinching it to a raw peak. Heat's back arched off the cold table, a groan trapped in his throat. Reflexively, he tried to draw his legs closed and heard Serph chuckle, his hips clenched between Heat's thighs.

“This is... sick...” Heat choked. His voice sounded foreign and breathy. Beneath Serph's touch, he was shaking. Traitor, he cursed his body.

“You were never a good liar.” Serph twisted his nipple and he nearly screamed as electrical impulse shot straight to the base of his skull. One of Serph's warm hands had nestled inside his pants to cup his crotch. Its presence there, squeezing gently, was excruciating. The ache in his loins made his face burn and he was grateful for the darkness.

Serph's mouth reached his chest. He tweaked the swollen nipple again and sent a racking shudder through Heat's body. Then his lips found the smarting bit of flesh; at the same time, he ground his pelvis into Heat's groin.

Heat's arms were numb beneath the weight of his body, but the pain in his shoulders was nothing compared to the throbbing in his abdomen. Serph renounced his chest in favor of the column of his throat, grazing the skin carelessly with his teeth.

He had freed Heat's half-hard cock from his trousers. Confident hands massaged its base. Serph wound his fingers through the short hairs, tugging briefly before slipping downwards.

“Fucker!”

“Don't fight me, Heat,” Serph warned hoarsely. He untied his own pants and shifted his hips to let them drop to the floor. Heat bit his lip as Serph pressed a finger against his dry entrance. Hooking the tender rim with his thumb, he teased the tight pucker wider.

Heat's head hit the table with a metallic thud. He couldn't breathe—the tumorous knot in his chest was suffocating him. Serph grunted and leaned over, his unbuttoned lab coat draped over them both.

Heat grimaced and choked back a gasp as Serph's dry fingers worked inside him. The pleasure he'd felt before had degenerated to discomfiting pain. He was still unprepared when he felt the bulky crown of Serph's cock replace the digits stretching him.

“No!” he hissed. “I'm not... ready—”

“Shut up!”

The bite of uncharacteristic impatience startled Heat for a moment, but it was tailed by a burst of rage. He fought to raise himself to his elbows. “Serph, you bastard... ah... uahh...!”

Serph's laughter was tenuous as he caught Heat's earlobe between his teeth. Heat moaned, the head of the other man's shaft buried inside him.

Serph drew back and seized his knees, lifting his legs to set his heels on the edge of the table. Heat panted and rolled his head to the side. The stainless steel was rudely cold against his cheek. His eyes fell half-lidded, nerves exhausted from straining to see through the darkness.

With a series of soft breaths, Serph eased forward until he had speared Heat almost to the root. He rocked his hips gently at first to coax the tight opening to allow him deeper. Heat loathed himself for the sounds that sprung from his throat. Striving to force his taut muscles into submission, he let his legs fall wider.

“You see,” Serph sighed, “like that...” He pulled halfway out and shoved in hard and fast.

Heat roared, nearly bucking off the table. Serph gave him no chance to recover—clutching at his hips, he jerked forward and fucked him in long strokes.

“Nghh... sh... shit...” Heat groaned. He was sure he was torn, he had to be. He was sweating and shivering. Every muscle in his body knotted and clenched as Serph's cock filled him, stabbing at his bowels.

Then one thrust, angled just so, struck him higher and his head snapped back. His toes curled and his hips came off the table. Serph's mouth assaulted him again. Heat moaned into his colleague's throat as a different kind of agony pulsed below his belly.

Serph pulled away but his breath was still hot on Heat's face, punctuated by short gasps. He drew his hands up Heat's bare sides. Blunt fingernails dug into the hollows between his ribs.

Knees trembling, Heat lifted his pelvis slightly to draw Serph's thrusts a little deeper, back into the spot that prompted flashes behind his eyelids. It still hurt, he was still raw, but his body was hot and aching.

Even through his unrelenting pace, Serph was precise. His shaft struck swift and hard, dilating the constricted orifice. He moved more easily with each shove. Heat was bleary with something between torture and bliss. His body tossed to accommodate his colleague's pounding strokes as the sound of their ragged breathing filled his head.

Suddenly, Serph let out a throaty moan. He bucked fiercely, jolting both of them higher onto the table. His hips jerked feverishly and his nails scraped over Heat's sides.

Heat let out a strangled cry as the cock inside him spasmed. His body twisted in the climax, the head of Serph's phallus embedded nearly to his innards. Searing come flooded him, but he couldn't feel it through the coiling of his gut. Gasping, Serph gave one final, slow thrust before he slid out and staggered back to sag against the wall.

Heat was still heaving. His legs were sticky with come; his heels slipped over the metal lip of the table. Bound and sprawled on his back, he couldn't distinguish Serph's silhouette in the dark, but he could hear the other man's breathing deepen and slow. Throbbing, he growled in frustration and tried to roll onto his side. His own shaft was stretched out against his thigh, still painfully hard.

Agonized, Heat listened as movement rustled nearby. “Take... the damn cuffs off me,” he croaked, his voice cracking.

Serph didn't answer. Instead, he approached the table. There was a pounding between Heat's temples that made it difficult to make out Serph's movements. Gulping labored breaths, he tried again to roll over and sit up.

A slick hand grasped his cock and he froze.

“It's almost too simple,” Serph said. That irritatingly smug tone had already crept back into his voice. He squeezed the base of Heat's shaft and stroked upward, pausing below the head to press his forefinger firmly over the moist tip. “You formulate a hypothesis and develop the means to test it,” he continued conversationally. His fist slid back down and insuppressible tension mounted in Heat's groin.

“We can predict results with astounding accuracy.” An upward stroke, a sharp pressure to the tender underside of his shaft—and he came.

A few seconds of euphorically empty blackness washed over him. For a moment, he forgot that he was handcuffed, lying on a cold metal table in a dark laboratory with his manipulative coworker clutching his spent cock. For a moment, there was nothing.

Serph spoke again and the moment was over. “Turn around and I'll unlock the restraints,” he said matter-of-factly.

Heat coughed and shifted, shivering as the cold steel made contact with his bare stomach. He waited for the dull ache of release to subside.

Serph grasped his forearm. The cuffs clicked open as he placed the electronic key in its slot. Heat frowned and gingerly flexed his fingers. His arms were badly bruised, stiff and numb past his elbows. He pushed himself up and the handcuffs clattered loudly to the floor.

There was an electrical hum. Serph turned on the lights and the lab was illuminated by a harsh surgical glow. Heat started and drew his legs together. Squinting in the sudden glare, he raised his head.

Serph had already tucked himself back in and tied the drawstring of his scrubs. He wiped his hands on the front of his shirt. Heat felt a deep blush creep up his neck.

“You should get some rest,” Serph offered genially. The fire-proof door buzzed as he pulled it open.

“...Fuck you.”

Serph smiled. “We already did that, my friend,” he said. Partway out the door he paused. “Oh, I may have forgotten to mention. Angel and Madame Cuvier have endorsed my proposal for an AI combat program. We will pitch it to Colonel Beck soon.”

Heat's jaw dropped. “You can't be serious!” he sputtered—incredulous that Serph would tell him that here, now, and incredulous that he would put Sera through so much more...

Serph stepped into the hallway. “It's an excellent way to capitalize on some of Number 19's more... wasteful activities,” he shrugged as the door closed.

o-o-o

Heat wasn't sure how long he sat on the floor of the lab, his back pressed against the leg of the table. Finally he roused himself. Thick streaks of come had dried to his legs and abdomen. The whitish fluid decorating his thighs was tinged pink with traces of blood. Disgusted, he yanked his torn shirt off and tried to mop some of the mess with it. His pants were heaped beside him. He pulled them on with difficulty, groaning as his muscles protested.

He staggered and nearly fell when he tried to stand. Pain speared up his back and down his legs. Gripping the edge of the table, he swayed and let loose a few profound curse words. When his knees finished knocking, he straightened and looked around the lab.

Across from him, a partly drawn curtain revealed an examination table fitted with a plastic sheet. Past the table, the large half-cylinder of a CAT scan protruded from a wall of sleek electronics. To the left of the examination corner, the chemical storage rooms mocked him from behind bullet-proof glass.

Heat began to laugh. Even the equipment cabinets lining the walls sported electronic locks.

You clever bastard...

Still chortling bitterly, he limped toward the only door in the room that, from this side at least, didn't require a key or access card: the exit.

The first rays of dawn were filtering through the building windows. They hued the hallway a pale coral. Heat walked bow-legged, close to the wall for support. He rubbed his arms to entice some feeling back into them.

At the elevators, he hesitated. In an hour or so, the facility would begin to fill with men and women in white coats, bustling to carry out their scientific duties. People would already be stirring in the dormitory levels.

Heat was well aware of his stained trousers, his bare torso, his bruised arms and bloody hands. He wanted a shower badly, and needed a rest worse. But...

Forsaking the residential elevator, he punched the call button for the EGG deck. With a gentle ding, the doors slid open and he hobbled through them.

It was a brief ride to the deck, only a few floors. Conveniently close to the labs, of course. The hallways here were dimly lit by floor track lighting. Heat pulled his own badge from his trouser pocket and inserted it into the EGG control lock.

Most of the monitors in the room were blank. A few displayed heart monitor and electroencephalogram readings for the inhibitor. On the large overhead screen, Sera hung suspended in the greenish fluid, her eyes closed.

Heat crossed the room with effort. He sank into one of the swiveling control chairs with a sigh. “What the hell are we doing?” he brooded aloud.

To his shock, a low voice answered from the darkness behind him:

“It's science.”

He whirled. “Who the hell—!”

A slender, dark-haired figure in a long coat moved from the shadows, arms folded.

“You're up early, O'Brien,” said Jenna Angel.

Heat was speechless for a moment. Recovering, he scowled and turned away. He twisted in the chair in a futile attempt to conceal his battered, half-nude body.

“I couldn't sleep,” he muttered lamely. “And I could say the same for you.”

Angel walked forward to stand next to him. She ignored his disheveled appearance and stared straight ahead at the screen. “I... couldn't sleep either.”

The silence lengthened, but it wasn't awkward. To his surprise, Heat wasn't embarrassed. “Science, huh,” he said at last.

Angel didn't look at him. “Does it bother you?”

Heat rubbed the back of his aching neck. “Yeah... maybe,” he admitted slowly.

He looked up as Angel turned to leave. “You shouldn't let it,” she said as she strode toward the exit.

“What about you?” Heat called gruffly after her.

Angel paused in the doorway. “...What do you mean?”

“She's your daughter. Doesn't that... Well...”

Angel's back stiffened, but she didn't turn to face him. “Number 19 was created to further scientific knowledge. We have no room for silly, familial sentimentality.”

The words sounded rehearsed to Heat. Wincing, he struggled to rise from his chair. “Do you believe that?”

“...It doesn't matter what I believe,” said Angel, and she walked out of the room.

o-o-o

Heat showered, but he didn't dare lie down. Footsteps and voices passed back and forth outside his door as he rifled through his bathroom cabinet. The selection of painkillers was sparse; for a man of his field, he'd always been frugal with drugs.

Someone knocked on his apartment door as he popped the cap off a small bottle. He ignored the pounding and tapped three capsules into his palm—two more than the recommended dosage. Shrugging, he gulped them down without water.

The knocking had ceased by the time he stumped out of the bathroom. Smiling sardonically, he fished his badge from his discarded pants pocket. There was blood dried to one corner; he scraped it off with his fingernail before clipping it to his coat.

He stood in the middle of the room taking measured breaths, thinking, trying to remember how to act normally. The hall outside had grown silent. He was late.

He tried not to limp as he made his way stiffly to the door. He knew Serph well enough to believe that the day would proceed as usual. He was certain his unaffected colleague had dispatched a janitorial unit to clear up the mess in his lab before the other employees arrived. Angrily, Heat left his apartment and stalked awkwardly down the hall.

The elevators had been called to the floors above. As he waited, Heat gazed out the window. An entourage of military vehicles were parked in the turnaround at the building's main entrance. His heart beat a little faster as he remembered Serph's words about the approval of the combat program. How many times had Heat insisted that Sera's health was precariously unstable? He was positive that pushing her now would be disastrous.

Heat was fuming by the time the elevator arrived on the control level. As he stepped out, he nearly crashed headlong into one of his technicians.

“Dr. O'Brien!” the man uttered. “I was just on my way to find you. There was an unscheduled meeting this morning. I tried to wake you, but you didn't answer. Where've you been? Colonel Beck is here—”

“I know he is,” Heat interrupted impatiently. He pushed past the technician and headed for the control room. “I overslept,” he added unconvincingly as he opened the door.

Jenna Angel glanced over her shoulder at him as he entered. Heat couldn't read her expression, but he nodded slightly. Past the tower of Margot Cuvier's white veil, the Colonel's graying head nodded as he watched a playback of Sera's beach world on the overhead display.

Heat walked past them stiffly and joined the technicians at the control panel. Serph shifted in his chair and gave him a small, self-satisfied smile. Heat seethed.

“They are functionally independent,” Angel explained behind them. “The artificial intelligence coded in this program shows amazing capability. The potential for combat application is enormous.”

“She created this virtual world... for fun?” asked Colonel Beck.

“For self-consolation,” corrected Serph. “She undergoes day-long experiments. It is a playhouse she created for solace. She could easily construct another program that would meet your specifications.”

“No! She's under undue stress!” Heat blurted a little too loudly. “She—”

“This is incredible!” the Colonel interrupted. “I'll draft the proposal immediately—”

“You can't!” Heat practically shouted, whirling to face the others. “Her mental and emotional stress is off the charts! She's aging at an accelerated rate. We can't risk pushing her even farther!”

The Colonel scowled and closed his eyes for a moment, his elbows propped on the table, hands folded. “Is this true?” A note of warning had crept into his voice, but Heat didn't care. Serph had arranged this meeting prematurely. The funding they might lose was negligible compared to Sera's life.

Serph smiled. “Don't be concerned,” he said as Heat turned, “Colonel Beck.”

Heat gaped at him.

“Excellent,” the Colonel replied, sounding pleased again. He stood up and nodded to Angel and Cuvier. “I'll contact you as soon as I receive approval,” he said.

Heat waited for the three of them to leave the room before he grabbed Serph's arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. “You...!”

The other scientists stepped forward, but Serph smiled coolly and waved his free hand at them. “We'll only be a moment,” he said, following easily as Heat dragged him toward the door.

In the hallway, Heat released Serph's arm and faced him furiously. “What the hell do you think you're doing,” he growled, trying to exercise some control over the volume of his voice.

“Ensuring finances for future research,” Serph responded. He didn't back away as Heat stepped closer.

“We don't need that!” Heat snapped. “Think about Sera! If she dies—” he took a breath and tried to curb his emotions. “If she dies... those finances won't matter, the project will be set back months, perhaps years!”

Serph cocked his head. “That's a risk we take in science. I've calculated the risks, and the benefits in this case outweigh them.” He moved forward and touched the front of Heat's trousers, just below the belt buckle. “We're going to begin in half an hour.”

Heat snatched Serph's hand before it could travel lower, crushing the slender fingers in his fist. “I'll be there,” he retorted.

“Good,” answered Serph. He extracted his hand from Heat's grasp and rubbed his knuckles. “In the meantime, you should get something to eat.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “We missed you at breakfast.”

Heat didn't reply. Abruptly, he spun on his heel and walked down the hall, leaving Serph to smirk behind him.

He rode the elevator to the dormitory level.

In the lobby, he paused to look out the window. On the concrete walkway several stories below, he watched Colonel Beck speak with Angel while two soldiers stood at attention nearby. The Colonel climbed into one of the military jeeps. Angel continued to stand outside as the entourage pulled away from the curb. After they were gone, she waited a few moments longer before walking slowly back toward the entrance.

When she had disappeared from view, Heat left the window.

He glanced both ways down the deserted hall before he unlocked his apartment door and headed straight to the dresser. He wrenched the top drawer open and shoved socks and shirts aside until he felt hard plastic.

It was a small black case with a handle. Heat set it carefully on the dresser. He flipped the latches up with his thumbs and opened the lid. Inside, a handgun was nestled in a bed of black foam. He picked it up and held it for a long moment. Pulling a clip from the bottom of the case, he loaded the gun methodically and switched the safety on.

Heat looked up as he tucked the gun into the back of his trousers. The mirror over the dresser reflected his pale face. His eyes looked unnaturally bright, accentuated by the shadows of exhaustion.

Heat tucked his coat over the gun and twisted to make sure the bulge wasn't visible.

It won't come to this.

He hoped the words were true. Serph was still human, wasn't he?

The clock next to the bed told him that twenty minutes had passed. Heat smiled grimly as he walked back to the door.

Somehow, every shred of control had slipped from his grasp. He hoped that Serph was right, and that Sera would be fine.

Hope was all he felt that he could do anyway.

o-o-o

They had already started when Heat returned. Most of the health technicians had left; Serph and one of his employees sat at the main controls. Argilla had arrived and was standing near the door. She offered a wan smile as Heat walked by. He didn't return it.

“Status is stable. Initializing stage one,” the technician recited.

Heat slid into the chair next to him. There was a low rushing sound as slots opened to allow serum into the tubes that fed the small body inside the inhibitor. Above them on the screen, Sera's brow knitted.

“Stage one activated.”

Sera's head turned slightly and she drew her chin into her chest. Heat sat forward and looked at the man seated further down the panel. Serph gave him an impassive glance.

To Heat's left, the other scientist spoke again: “Stage one complete. Initializing stage...” He trailed off as a red light began to flash on the screen overhead. A small cry issued from the inhibitor intercom.

Heat jumped to his feet and paced while the technician's fingers flew over the buttons. Tiny alarm lights blinked from the control panel. An error code flashed insistently on the monitor in front of him.

“There's an error in Samsara's data circulation system,” puzzled the man next to him. “Code 8081454.” He tapped a key. “Aborting stages two through five.”

Serph watched the screen calmly as Sera let out a gasp. Her head fell back, her dark eyes wide with pain.

“These EEG readings are all wrong!” the technician exclaimed. “Her condition's critical!”

Serph shook his head. “She should last a bit longer,” he said. “Inject the stimulant.”

Heat stopped pacing as Sera gasped again, her pained voice magnified through the speakers.

Serph reached out and held down the intercom button. “Can you hear me, Sera?” he asked gently. “Hang in there—we're almost done.”

No.

Sera's eyes opened at the sound of Serph's voice, and Heat yanked the gun from his belt and flicked the safety off. “That's enough!” he shouted.

Serph turned toward him slowly, unconcerned. “Don't be a hypocrite,” he said. “You wanted to learn about God, didn't you? That's why you joined.”

Heat ground his teeth angrily, the gun trained on his colleague's chest. Serph was right, but he hadn't wanted this...

“If Sera dies, we move on to the next child. If that child dies, we use another. That's how it works.”

Heat's knuckles whitened as Serph blinked at him calmly. “Honestly. We shouldn't waste time on trivial arguments,” he finished, inclining his head. “I think we're both better than that.”

Heat raised the gun, finding Serph's forehead in its sights. “You're really something, you know that?” he snarled breathlessly. Rage pounded behind his eyes. “You can't just manipulate people to do whatever the hell you want!”

Serph's eyes narrowed, but his smile remained frozen in place. “Oh can't I now...”

The sound of the gunshot ricocheted through the room. Heat's finger twitched; he hadn't pulled the trigger. As a spent bullet casing clinked to the floor, he felt inexorable pain spread through his side. In shock, he turned slightly to register Argilla, her bottom lip trembling, a small pistol clutched in her shaking hands.

Serph... Heat thought blankly as he pitched forward, the handgun slipping from his strengthless fingers. He could feel blood filling his punctured lung. The thick liquid seeped from between his fractured ribs, pooling beneath him. He fought to keep his eyes open as a pair of shoes came into view.

“Simple, huh?” Serph said. He crouched and collected the gun from the floor. His movements were blurry in Heat's rapidly dimming vision.

I failed.

“The human heart is a machine. We can predict the outcome of any action.”

Heat's eyelids felt heavy. He wanted to tell Serph to go to hell, that he would protect Sera, but blood had flooded his throat.

“Considering my goal is God's power,” Serph continued as Heat laid his cheek on the cold tile, “people are just tools.”

He had failed.

He'd failed to stop Serph, failed to save Sera, failed to help all those suffering from God's punishment. He thought he could hear someone crying, but it might have been his imagination. Distantly, he felt the ground begin to shake. The low rumbling engulfed him, and he closed his eyes.

Someday, he thought as the blinding light of God's data overwhelmed him, we'll break free.

Someday...

~ fin ~