"This was back in December of '80, thereabouts, Transbialka, angels burned the building down, came out of the sky, had sword of fire. Had this-this-chariot of thunder he rode in they burned the building down, destroyed the whole thing. Boom," he added solemnly. "The Black Rose was very angry. So I left the country. I did. And I was looking for work and I had this, this skill, and they were looking for me, this was a couple years later. Or maybe not, it's very difficult for me to remember time now. Did I tell you that I served in Viet Nam? Not me, personally, but I did."
    "Excuse me?" I said softly.
    "I have a lot of bad memories from that," he replied sadly. "Mm-hm. Navy SEAL training. That was one of the things that I did at SysGen that I probably shouldn't have."
    "You—"
    "Took memories?" Scott finished for me.
    "Took people. Time is very fluid for me. I was an eight-year-old girl for a while, part of her is still with me." His expression darkened. "Eight-year-old girls have very bad thoughts. I know that now. One of the reasons why I'm here."
    That explained those assaults on children scattered across his record.
    "How many people have you been? Look at me," Albert commanded.
    "Sev-sev-seven. I think."
    Oh, my god, was all I could think.
    "Why? Why did you do it?" he asked.
    "I wanted to see, and I thought it would work. I saw what they had done, what it had accomplished out in Europe and so I-I wanted to see. And the programs were more advanced, here, so, they had some stuff already—the Navy SEAL, that martial artist woman." He smiled fondly. "I never had a chance to get her. That was a shame, because she was really good, but I learned a lot of things from that SEAL. I can pick locks. I'm good at that. Sneak, mm-hm, very quiet. Guns. I didn't have any of the other advantages he had, I couldn't climb walls—"
    "He? Oh, the Navy SEAL," I realized.
    "What they later turned him into, I saw files, I know him, I know the way he moves, because I walked like that once."
    "What did they turn him into?" Scott asked.
    "He fought the angels once, and he fought Ground Zero a lot, I always liked seeing him because, well, it was almost like me."
    I looked at Scott; he's put a lot of time lately into memorizing chunks of the database on such persons. Someone who had fought both the Host and Ground Zero, with military skills? Scott thought for a moment and made a negative gesture with a pseudopod.
    "I'll have to check records."
    "Did you know what the end goal was?" I asked Felix; he shook his head.
    "I wasn't around long enough. I just had to help them get the structures right, so you could put bunches of them in one place, so that they wouldn't, you know, turn into other people, wouldn't all mingle."
    "Which is what happened to you." There but for the grace of God, or whoever. Apparently I can thank Felix, at least in part, for the fact that I'm not totally crazy.
    He grinned nervously. "I'm fine, what do you mean? I'm fine."
    "Yes, you are."
    "I've been very good here, they let me help out. I've been very good here. I don't-don't tell them about this stuff because they never ask, they think that occasionally, I mean, they give me drugs and I'm good, and they think that sometimes, you know," he laughed and lowered his voice to a near-whisper, "I have multiple personalities. But they don't know, they don't know."
    "How good are you?" Albert asked, resuming control of the interview.
    "They let me help."
    "They let you help enough so that you get out every once in a while, correct?"
    He laughed again, that nervous titter which was beginning to make my skin crawl. "I walk the corridors every once in a while."
    "In your room, under your bed you have lockpicks, don't you," he stated, fixing that hypnotic stare on Felix once more. "You carved them. You used them to get into the pharmaceutical rooms. Didn't you."
    More laughter. "Sometimes."
    "Of course," Albert murmured to himself. "This explains much, this explains everything." He tapped his cane on the floor and looked around at our blank looks. "Do you not see, it is obvious!"
    "No, no, it is rather obvious, actually," I murmured. I really did feel ill. Somehow, Felix made all of it far more... real. The first life I've had contact with, outside my own, which has been indisputably, irrevocably changed by what they have done. Perhaps the blame can be laid to his own foolishness, but they were the agent through which this man was destroyed. And through him, four others. I closed my eyes, saw the ripples spread out from the center of the plot.
    "How many people did you do this with?" Albert asked him.
    "I was able to do four, and then they got sent out, and I couldn't risk making any more."
    "Which four?" I asked with quiet urgency.
    "You want names? There was the-the-they were all people with a very specific condition, it was the easiest way to work it, they needed the drugs. I know what I'm doing when it comes to this sort of thing, I do."
    "We don't doubt that."
    "There were only four, that was all I had time for."
    "Why did you do it?"
    That was a mistake. His expression changed; I felt we were looking at a different person now, even as his voice gained a measure of deadly calm control. "I had to get back at them. They locked me up. Do you have any idea how much I dislike being chained up? I was held for eight months in a bamboo cage—not again. They pay."
    I looked at Albert for aid.
    "Look at me. Calm," he ordered. A vacant expression settled over Felix's face. "We may talk freely."
    "Winters, you might want to radio your guards and let them know that a trained Navy SEAL may be coming for them," I suggested wearily.
    "My god," she murmured.
    "Want to use my phone?"
    Suddenly Albert glanced over Javelin with a surprised expression; the man's face had changed utterly once again. We had only enough time to turn and look at him before he raised a hand and squeezed the inhaler he had concealed in his clothing; a cloud of gas puffed out from it, briefly enveloped Albert and myself, did not quite reach Winters.
    I brought my shield to life reflexively and realized that it wasn't going to stop whatever that had been, and that I had already taken a startled breath. Albert's face was a mask of concentration and fury as he realized his error; Felix screamed, fell over, started writhing, and went catatonic. I recognized the effects of fleurs de mal.
    I could feel... something happening inside my head. More memory added onto all the layers already there. Something was very wrong. My knees went. There was time for a moment of pure panic as I realized what was happening and that I couldn't stop it, before it all went away.

[Perspective switch: Everyone else]

    I thought I saw Yasmina. Must be having a nightmare. Bitch.

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