OMEGA STATION TWELVE

54.A-2457
ee.dx.98 

“At this point the Cube’s implants will have become active. They will have been triggered by his use of tactical engagement against LEGACY. He will be doubting his course of action, feeling responsible for bringing conflict to the Aggregation of Variables. He will feel remorse at having to resort to violence. He will start to feel lost and alone. 

“The Cube will employ his standard array of Trances: Hunter to seek out LEGACY, Sage to analyze their agenda, Shadow to evade capture. The implants will continue to emit disruption frequencies targeting each Trance. He will wonder why he must always end up fighting, what choices he has made that always lead him back to the war. He will suspect that his belief in a LEGACY agenda for the church is a lie to mask his guilt over disrupting their sanctuary; that he secretly resents them for having something he never did. That he tricked them into running because he couldn’t bear to be with them. 

“The implants will begin tagging and enhancing any neuroforms that ascribe Causality to the Cube. That make him the source of what went wrong. He will begin to doubt the ontological status of any memories he has that provide Continuity, including the Dragons, the Metaplex, even Plureality. If he remains isolated enough for long enough, Version Null will begin to generate. 

“The threat of LEGACY will become the only Certainty, the only ground to the figure of his thoughts and actions. He will need them, like an addict. This is the standard equation. This is how it always happens. The trajectories launched by this iteration of the Cube will with 100 percent probability intersect with the vectors of Simon Light.”

Morganfokker pauses from dictating his report. His eyes look briefly haunted. 

“And that will be the end of Max.”

DAY TWELVE 7:27AM

The Colour Of Scent 

Mayganne awoke to the sound of a cellphone chirping. It sounded like an FX from one of those cheesy sci-fi shows you would see on a specialty channel. For some reason it made her think of home, and her brother the sci-fi geek. He would be in paradise if he only knew the truth. But in this version she didn't have a brother. 

The swelling had gone down in her left eye, so she could make out very blurry images about her. Her right eye was bandaged and useless at the moment.

She made out the form of the woman, who appeared to be tall and angelic in nature. She chalked that up to the morning sun through the window. But her eyes' fine-tuning wasn't kicking in, so the woman remained part of the static of her vision. 

"Professor," the woman said into the phone. "It's good to hear you voice. What little of it that I can hear."

Mayganne turned and she could make out Scorpio's form sitting on the floor by the side of the bed. His head was on the bed, and he was snoring a little. Her first reaction was of revulsion and she wanted to shove him away. Then she remembered that for the past two days he had been watching over her and tending to her like an orderly. 

It would be a long way to trust, but forgiveness was right there waiting to see.

"I missed him, I tried the diner but it's gone. Yes. Gone. Burnt, destroyed. Well, no shit Sherlock," the woman replied into the phone with a hint of smugness hidden in her tone. "I figured that. I checked the Brownstone and it's been vacant. Looks like for years. It's a squatter's paradise."

Mayganne saw the glass of water beside her bed and reached for it. But before she could touch the glass Scorpio had reached up and gotten it for her. 

"Thanks," Mayganne rasped through dry lips.

Scorpio just nodded. He knew there was nothing he could say. 

"The connection is getting worse. But don't worry. I'm hot on his trail." The woman looked at the phone and shook her head and then turned to Mayganne. "You okay, dear?" 

"I think so, now," Mayganne replied as Scorpio automatically took the glass of water from her hands and placed it on the table.

"I tried those numbers you gave me," the woman said. "No one is answering." 

"It's worse than I thought," Mayganne replied, sitting up some. The pain in her ribs made her wince. Scorpio was right there fluffing up the pillow, behind her back. "Everything has been compromised. In this version, at least. I think I know where they are heading to."

"Well, if you are up to the task of moving, I'd say we better start moseying," Suki told her.