Chapter 4
White

"Why should I tell you anything?" Robaer growled.

I rolled my eyes, and smacked him soundly on the back of the head. I felt a certain sense of satisfaction as his eyes wattered. "Is that all you guys know how to ask? Really original, asshole. Guess I'll go with the standard answer." I cleared my throat. "Because I'm the one with the gun to your head, about to redecorate the wall a nice color of red. That's why."

"Kill me if you want, it won't get you any closer to your answers."

I chuckled. "Really? If the last go round with the lovely red-haired scientist and my clones were enough to induce THIS Flash Impulse, how easy do you think it's going to be to get rid of this one? And as to killing me, you don't do that. Not yet anyways. I'm too valuable to your reasearch. Killing me means starting over. So, I'm going to ask you nicely once more before I start venting my frustration on you and your fragile old bones. What in the world is going on?"

He sighed and I felt him slump. "You're part of an ongoing experiment to discover a cure for..."

I cut him off. "I know. Vecks' Syndrome. What I want to know is why all this? What is real, what isn't? Where am I? Does the Government even exist? Am I really a Watcher? Is this really Nova York city."

Robaer shook his head. "All and none. You're a Watcher, so they must be real. You serve the Government, so it must exist. As to this place? What do you think?"

I tightened my grip on his neck. "You're speaking in riddles, and that's really starting to piss me off..." He shook. Only slightly at first. Then it became more violent till he was in full on convulsions. I dropped him to the ground and watched as his body tightened in on itself in a massive seisure. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as one last shuddering braeth escaped him. Foam poured from his mouth.

I sighed. "Cyanide trigger. He had a cyanide does built into him just in case this happened...." I searched his pockets, quickly removing and identa-card, a few clips of ammunition and the biggest prize of all. Every Watch Commander had a card with an expense account on it. Limitless, due to the secrecey of the Watchers. I scoffed as I looked at the card. "If they even exist anywhere but my mind."

There was a grunt behind me. Without thinking I turned and raised the weapon on the clone. He had managed to break out of his bonds and was now sitting on the shock table, looking woozy. Moving quickly, before he fell, I shot in to him, and caught him by the arm. Handing him a glass of water that was on the table. "Thanks," he said hoarsley, in a voice I knew all to well.

We stood there in silence for what seemed like ages, till he looked at me. "They exist. To a point."

"Hmm?" I responded. Not really paying attention.

"I said 'They exist to a point.' The Watchers and everything else." He gestured around the room. "All of this is real. And I really am a clone. I'm also a Hacker. And you...you're about as real as they come. So, to a point that makes the Watchers real, doesn't it?"

I slumped down on at the table. "That doesn't really help......me. You. I...me? What should I call you?"

He grinned and stuck out his hand. "I go by White." When he noticed the look of confusion, he elaborated. "Of course, you wouldn't know. You see...though Laval claims to have perfected the cloning Technology, they havn't. Not really. Each clone has something that makes them unique. Beyond even the personlity. It so happens that my hair was stark white. Hence the moniker."

I shook his hand. "How many of you...of me...are there?"

He rocked his head back and forth. Something I did myself from time to time. "About three thousand, I'd say. Though, I'm as close to you as they come. It seems that, the further down the line we go, the less like you we seem to be. Especially when we start talking about 3rd or 4th generation clones."

"3rd or 4th?" I asked.

White nodded. "Yeah. Clones of clones of clones etc. Nasty stuff. Don't go near the 5th gen. Those guys are bastards really. Pretty near close to losing their minds." He chuckled. "It's pretty strange."

I nodded, and took a gulp of water. "So, what can I do that you can't, and vice verca?"

My clone shrugged. "Everything and nothing. I learn as well as you can, but as to knowing what you do?" He shook his head. "No. Genetic memories.....skill memories...they don't exist. It's science fiction. We may be clones, but we're unique because of our experiances."

I nodded, then my heart skipped a beat for a moment as a thought occured to me. "We're in the heart of Watcher territory. We need to get out of here."

White scoffed. "This is a controlled environment. We're safe here for two reasons. 1: The Government, wether it exists or not, knows I'm here for interogation and re-conditioning. They won't send anyone here till they get the all clear. Two: You're the subject of an experiment. And will be till Laval finds out that Robaer is dead. But, we'll be long gone before then."

It was my turn to be quizzical. "We?"

He nodded. "You didn't think that Laval controlled us completely did you? Heh. No, not quite. She drops us in here, then leaves us to rot. The Hackers are real, and...to a point, we work to undermine the government. We want democracy...and freedom for clones. We, at this point, are nothing more than lab rats. And that pisses us off, needless to say. "

I nodded. Keenly aware that this guy didn't like to be used as much as I didn't like it. "Alright. So, one last question. Who's Laval?"

White's face darkened. "Laval Mclaern. You know her as the red haired woman." So that was her name. My enemey not only had a face, but a name. White stood, and picked up the Conditioners compact machine gun, and slapped a clip into the top. "Let's get you back to the home base. But, for now, you're name is...Captive. I don't want anyone to know you're the original yet. Half of them think you're helping Laval and her cronies. The rest think you're a god. Our progenitor." He walked out. Drawing my pistol, I followed.


Well, I'll be.... I'm a god....