Post by Admin on Jun 26, 2014 11:45:33 GMT
Echo and Sierra walked absent-mindedly past the Dollhouse's pond, though Echo was no longer absent-minded when she saw the blue light. Coming from the room upstairs, the room where she had her treatments. The blinds were pulled, but the light still pulsed through.
"What's happening?" Sierra asked.
"She made a mistake," Echo said. "Now she's sad."
Echo didn't even blink as the gunshot rang and the window above was splattered with blood.
*
TWELVE HOURS EARLIER
"Everyone thinks its about the pain," Evanora told Boyd from her seat in the van. "It's not about the pain, it's about trust. Handing yourself over fully and completely to another human being. There's nothing more beautiful than letting go like that." She sat back, fondling her whip, crossing one high-heeled boot over another, confident with her words.
"In my experience, that kind of trust always leads to pain," Boyd said gruffly.
"Then maybe you need a session in my dungeon so I can show you otherwise." She smirked.
Boyd shook his head. "Thanks. I think I'll pass."
Evanora sat forward. "Don't be so vanilla. You can trust me. I've already shown that I trust you. I got in the van, didn't I?"
"You sure that was a wise decision?"
Evanora smiled playfully. "I have a good feeling about you. And I've got the whip," she pointed out, twirling it between her fingers. The engine stopped rumbling and Boyd opened the door, leading Evanora into an underground parking lot. "If you reconsider, I have an opening after my treatment."
From the nearby elevator exited Victor, looking sharp in an expensive suit, and Melissa Ramirez, his pretty Handler, whose eyes widened at the sight of Evanora in her skimpy leather outfit.
"Don't even start," Ramirez said immediately, indicating Victor. "They've got him on another Lonelyhearts engagement."
"What's that make, nine?" Boyd asked.
"Ten," Ramirez corrected. "How pathetic is that old bag?"
Victor picked at something on his collar. "Ramirez pretends to be jaded, but she's got a secret stash of bodice-rippers in the van," he revealed in a posh British accent. "I've seen it." Evanora smiled.
Ramirez smirked. "Not true," she said, but Boyd noticed blood rushing to her cheeks.
"She wants to be kidnapped by a pirate," Victor revealed.
"I know a guy," Evanora offered.
"If I weren't madly in live with Catherine, I'd Shanghai you myself," Victor said, putting his arm around Ramirez.
She raised an eyebrow at Boyd's chuckle. "I'd take S&M Barbie over him any day," she said. "Come on, your geriatric princess awaits..."
As they passed, Evanora flicked her wrist: the whip cracked against Ramirez's ankle. She yelped and rubbed it.
"It's love," Evanora said, tossing the whip over her shoulder. "Show some respect."
Ramirez gave a parting glare before leaving. Boyd held his hand out to Evanora: she reluctantly placed the whip in his grasp and shrugged. "Sometimes its about the pain."
*
Echo woke up as the chair rose. Ivy was standing over her. "Hi Echo. How are you?"
"Did I fall asleep?" Echo asked, unsure.
"For a little while," Ivy confirmed.
"Shall I go now?" Echo asked.
Ivy nodded. "If you like."
Echo was startled when Topher emerged from behind the computers, making a loud buzzer noise. He chuckled. "Okay, okay... uh, Ivy, babe, the post-imprint script may seem inconsequential, but it's the first thing an Active hears after a memory wipe. It's GOT to be pleasant. Not so..."
The door swung open and Mr. Dominic stepped in. "Out of the chair, Echo," he said gruffly.
"That," Topher finished quietly.
Dominic shot Topher a look. "You're behind schedule," he snarled as Echo stood.
Topher raised an eyebrow. "Somebody's a grumpeteer today."
"What's the holdup?"
Topher sighed. "You remember how Saunders' little drill ended with a bullet in my computer? And guess what that does: slows down the schedule."
"Fix it," He looked to Echo. "You need to get to you appointment with Doctor Saunders."
Echo followed him down the catwalk, her bare feet padding across the carpet. From the corridor it led to emerged Adelle DeWitt. As she approached, Echo descended the stairs, walking slowly as to here the conversation.
"Aside from Topher being Topher, everything's under control," Dominic told Adelle.
"And I'll expect you to keep it that way while I'm gone," Adelle replied, a touch of weariness to her voice.
"Did Rossum tell you why they're calling you in?"
"Considering our recent track record, I'm sure they want to pat me on the head and tell me I've been running a crackerjack operation," she said sarcastically. "Maybe they'll be cake."
"Ma'am, none of these incidents were your fault."
"On the contrary, Mr. Dominic, everything that happens under this roof is my fault. And for the next 48 hours, it's yours."
Adelle returned the way she had come as Echo reached the main floor. She began walking and paused at the pond where other people were doing yoga.
"Hello November," Echo said to the woman at the front.
November caught sight of her and smiled. "Hello, Echo. How are you today?"
"I'm going to Doctor Saunders," Echo informed her.
November nodded. "She's nice."
An attendant approached them from behind. "November, it's time for your treatment."
November gave Echo a parting smile before following the woman. Echo smiled back and went for the sliding door of Doctor Saunders' office.
*
"Take a deep breath for me please," Doctor Saunders asked, pressing the stethoscope into Echo's spine. As Echo inhaled, Boyd slid open the office door. "Any permanent damage?" he asked.
"These exams are private," Doctor Saunders said, though she didn't sound particularly fussed.
"Her last engagement seemed unnecessarily rough," Boyd said.
Saunders left the table and went to her desk's computer. "She was a dominatrix, I think that was the point." Echo blinked. She didn't remember being a dominatrix: she didn't know what a dominatrix was.
Boyd followed her. "I prefer engagements that aren't about some--"
"Deep, dark, sexual need?" Saunders finished.
"You really think it has anything to do with need?"
Saunders shrugged. "Sometimes, yes. Having a desire you're afraid of expressing can be terribly debilitating. Look how many same-sex engagements we're called for, even today. And sadomasochism isn't anything like--"
"I know," Boyd interrupted. "'It's all about trust'. But what if the client has the whip?"
"We don't send the Actives to submissives."
"Man, you've got the pitch down. You should fill in for DeWitt."
Saunders looked at him. "I believe the system is flawed, maybe irreparably, but maybe not for the same reasons you do." Doctor Saunders caught sight of Echo, who had become deeply fascinated with the overhead light. "Echo, you're all done here. You can go now."
Echo smiled and stood. Boyd opened the door and they returned to the main floor. They were just going past the stairs when someone said Boyd's name.
It was Topher, and he said it urgently, rushing down the stairs from his office towards them. He motioned away from Echo, and Boyd signalled for her to stay. Boyd and Topher stepped away, but only slightly.
"In about two minutes, I'm gonna make a call to DeWitt," Topher said. "If you were to do something, maybe get some air, maybe run, I wouldn't know that you had done that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..." Boyd said slowly.
Topher squinted. "You don't?"
Boyd shook his head. Topher gave a quick scan of the area before pulling a tiny piece of metal from his pocket. "I found this in the chair," he whispered, dropping it into Boyd's hand.
"And?"
"This chip let someone access the primary imprint protocol, which means they could have altered my imprints. I make a cheerleader: they make a cheerleader that shoots people! Or an assassin that does cheers! Or any Active, any time, with a parameter we don't know about."
Boyd finally looked like he understood. "We have a spy?"
Topher nodded. "Inside the Dollhouse."
"And you think it's me. You think I'm the spy?"
Topher faltered. "...not in a bad way!"
Boyd smiled slightly. "If they find out that you talked to me before you called DeWitt, they'll fry you."
Topher looked at the ceiling. "...yeah, I didn't really think that through..."
"Thank you."
Topher smiled. "I'm boned anyway. I call DeWitt, she's gonna take it out on Dominic, and who's Dominic gonna take it out on? Now Echo's drawing attention to us!"
Boyd turned. Echo was waving at the newly-Imprinted November, up on the catwalk above with her Handler. November just stared at her, no longer knowing who Echo was. Boyd tapped her on the shoulder. "Maybe you should go to art class." Echo absorbed the information, then walked towards the art facilities, smiling. "And maybe you should call DeWitt," he told Topher.
Topher nodded and rushed up stairs. Boyd watched him go.
*
Echo trimmed her bonsai tree's branch, the art teacher smiling approvingly. Echo smiled at Sierra, who was trimming an identical tree. Echo was admiring her newly-trimmed plant when something caught her eye. Up above, in his office, Topher was beckoning to someone. Echo looked to where he was facing: Mr. Dominic was just outside the door. He rushed in at Topher's summons.
"Echo," the lady asked. "Are you finished with your tree?"
Echo gave her bonsai one last look before standing. As she stepped just outside the art area, she saw Topher explaining something to Mr. Dominic, elbows flailing. A second later, Dominic's face contorted with rage, pointing in Topher's face, before he stormed out. Dominic flew down the stairs, motioning to two nearby security guards as he rushed across the main floor.
"Put the entire house on lockdown," he ordered. "No one comes or goes without my authorisation. No land lines, no cell phones or network connections."
As he finished, Dominic reached the art area, went right past Echo and grabbed Sierra by the upper arm. "You, come on, you're getting a treatment..."
Dominic and Sierra went back up the stairs. In a few seconds, they disappeared up the catwalk, probably into the office. Slowly, tentatively, Echo put her foot on the first step. Then the second. Echo climbed the stairs, her feet eventually reaching carpet. She looked down the catwalk to the room next to Topher's office, the one with the black brick walls and the chair. The Imprint Room. The door was open: Sierra was in the reclining chair, squirming as the blue light pulsed around her head. As the light stopped and the chair rose, Echo saw, through the open blinds, Mr. Dominic and Topher were arguing again. She jumped as Dominic shoved Topher into the vacated chair. Topher looked like he wanted to stand, but thought better of it. Dominic and Sierra appeared in the doorway, and Echo turned her back. They rushed by, not glancing at her. Echo distinctly heard Sierra saying something about killing. As they descended the stairs, Echo looked back to the Imprint Room. Topher had not left the chair. Echo walked into the room.
"Everyone's unhappy today," she observed.
Topher jumped, not having seen her come in, then sighed. "Somebody put her tiny little thinking cap on," he said, finally standing.
"He was mean to you," she said. "Were you not your best?"
"If it hadn't been for me, there'd still be a security beach!" Topher said. He began working at one of the larger computers in the small space. "You'd think the security head would recognise that! Typical middle-management hack. He's mad at me for not is discovering it before it happened. But I'm not a counterintelligence agent, so I can't catch a spy, and... you have no idea what I'm talking about..."
Topher went back to his computer. Echo looked at the chair. "I can help you."
Topher looked at her again, confused. "Why would you want to?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"...did I just lose an argument to a doll? Okay, I'm... thanks, but you can't help."
"You make people different." Echo sat in the chair, put her hands on the strange, flat armrests, her head in the headrest. "You make me help."
Topher's jaw dropped. Echo sat back and waited for her treatment.
*
Mellie woke up in a strange metal chair in a room with black walls. Gregory was there, as was a short Asian girl with a lab coat and piercings. Ivy.
"Hello, Mellie," Ivy said. "How do you feel?"
"Jet-lagged," Mellie said, smiling. "That's the last time I take the redeye and an emergency exit row behind a crying baby."
"So we good to go?" Gregory asked Ivy as Mellie stood up.
"Hang on," Ivy said from the keyboard. "Let me double check the primary protocol just to be sure it took."
Mellie stepped out onto the catwalk. Down below, on the other side of the large, spa-like space, a pretty woman with shiny, wavy brown hair and wide brown eyes, was waving at her.
"Where do I know her from?" Mellie asked absently as Gregory emerged.
"Come on," Gregory said, tapping her shoulder. "The airport shuttle's waiting to take you home."
Mellie gave the girl one last look before following.
*
Mellie was just getting her key from her pocket when Paul's door flew open. Paul jumped out, gun in hand, eyes wild and face unshaven. His steely exterior faltered at the sight of her.
"Mellie?" His gun dropped to his side. "I heard something in--"
"The hallway, where your neighbours walk to their apartments?" she said resentfully.
"I didn't know you were coming back so soon," Paul said, his eyes returning to human size.
Mellie shrugger. "Surprise--"
"It's not safe to talk out here." He grabbed her suitcase and motioned into his apartment. Mellie stepped in hurriedly and Paul closed the door, locking at least a dozen new locks and sliding a protective metal bar into place.
"Wow," Mellie said weakly. "I guess the neighbourhood went to crap while I was gone..."
"Not the neighbourhood, my apartment. The Dollhouse had it bugged, video and audio. Took awhile for me to figure it out, but I found a transmitter in the ventilation. I should search your apartment."
"I'm surprised you didn't," Mellie said.
"Well, I was gonna let myself in, but--"
"No, no. It's okay. You should check it out," she said, stepping into living room. "I'm just going to stay here where I'm safe from the... Dollhouse..."
The room was covered with files, pictures and little notes with ideas scrawled on them. Taking up the entire wall above the mantelpiece was a huge collage of pictures, bank forms, security camera stills, everything, possible leads connected with red pieces of string. Mellie couldn't help but notice that the picture of Caroline was in the centre.
"I guess you didn't miss me that much..."
Paul rushed to the board and indicated it theatrically. "The Dollhouse is way bigger than I ever thought it was. Every time I look deeper, I find more clients, larger amounts of money, and a web of financial and political connections all over the world, to corporations, the government, even inside the FBI--"
"I take it you haven't gotten your badge back--?"
"But that's just scratching the surface. I discovered something else. I think the Dollhouse is underground."
"Didn't we know that?" Mellie said. "Super-secret underground organisation?"
Paul shook his head. "Not 'underground' like it's a secret: 'underground' like it's somewhere beneath Los Angeles!" Paul looked at her long enough to see her expression. His hands fell limply. "You didn't come back to listen to this..." he said apologetically.
Mellie shrugged. "I came back to see you."
"I'm sorry. It's just..." Paul sighed. "You should go back to your mother's."
"I can't. And aside from the obvious reasons - like she lives in Iowa and likes to set me up with losers I dated in High School - I realised that I was running away for my life," Mellie said, picking some garbage from the coffee table.
"I'm giving you an out," Paul said. "You can walk out that door."
Mellie smiled. "Pretty sure I can't even unlock it..."
"Hey, I'm serious," Paul said desperately. "I can't sleep. The only thing I think about it finding this place, and sometimes I don't even know why I'm after it anymore!"
"That's why you need someone to help you stay grounded."
Paul looked down at her. "How are you gonna do that?"
Mellie craned her neck and pushed her lips to his. "Let's start with getting you into the shower.," she whispered.
She lead him into the bedroom, and they were kissing again. Paul peeled off his hoodie, began at Mellie's dress.
Then Mellie took a sharp breath and froze. Unmoving. Paul removed his hands and stared at her, perplexed. She just looked at Paul's T-Shirt, eyes vacant.
"Too much?" Paul asked. "Too fast?" He gave a joking sniff of his arm. "Do I really smell that bad?"
Mellie finally looked him in the eye, seeing him and yet not seeing him, and spoke in barely a whisper.
"I have a message for you from inside the Dollhouse."
Paul took a step back. "That's not funny--"
"My name is November."
Paul shook his head. "Mellie, your name is Mellie--"
"We knew this would be hard for you to here."
"If you're pissed because I'm still investigating the Dollhouse--"
"This body belongs to a doll," she said simply.
"--Just tell me, don't do this!"
"I'm sorry we had to deliver the news to you like this, in this body, but the Dollhouse has likely discovered that we've been placing messages in their imprints, and this is the only way we could get the message to you."
"They did this to you..."
Mellie - November - shook her head slightly. "They did this long before you met me. They've been using this body to spy on you for months. The only reason Mellie exists is because of you."
Paul scoffed. "Aren't I special?!"
"Now that you've removed their surveillance, they're going to rely on her more. Don't tell her anything about the investigation. It will get back to the Dollhouse."
"That's why you - she - came back," Paul realised.
"Now you understand how dangerous their technology is."
"I slept with her," Paul said hollowly, turning his back. "I should have known."
"You can't tell Mellie about this," November said. "If the Dollhouse knows you know, they will kill you. And they'll make Mellie do it."
Paul shook his head. "Mellie couldn't."
"She's not a regular Doll. She's a Sleeper. With the flip of a switch, the Dollhouse can turn her into a killer. If our person inside has been captured--"
"Wait--"
"This is the last time you'll hear from us through a doll--"
Paul rushed back to her. "You can't tear apart my life and not give me anything! Where's the Dollhouse located?"
"You need to investigate why it exists."
"Is it underground? Am I on the right track?"
"The Dolhouse deals in fantasy, but that is not their purpose," November said. "Investigate their purpose. We will find other ways to contact you."
"Who? Who sent you?!"
"I'm not imprinted with information you're not supposed to have," November said flatly.
"Tell me who!"
"Remember: you can't tell her. You must maintain the illusion."
"WAIT!"
Mellie's eyes focused. She smiled. "Paul, what's wrong?"
Paul remained speechless for a moment before he forced a smile. "Nothing."
She smiled further and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Then why aren't you kissing me?"
Paul did. For once, he wanted it to end.
*
"My men have been trying to reach DeWitt," Dominic said as Sierra received her Imprint. "She's still not picking up. Is she gonna be able to pull it off?" he asked, indicating Sierra.
Topher nodded. "I threw my best secret agent parts into the build."
Dominic looked to the nearby monitor. "The GPS on DeWitt's cell transmitter isn't registering, either. If anything happened to DeWitt--"
"Hey, think happy thoughts," Topher encouraged.
As Sierra - her Imprint known as Eve - stood up, Dominic grabbed a fistful of Topher's shirt.
"That's not happy--" Topher observed, voice high.
"Is everything a joke to you?" Dominic snarled.
"Notice I'm not laughing!"
"You need me to take care of this?" Eve offered, standing from the chair.
Dominic ignored her. "You allowed a security breach to develop on your turf!" he spat.
"Not my department, Mr. HEAD OF SECURITY!"
"You leave these doors wide open, computers on, chair running!"
"It's your job to make sure everybody that works here is on our side!" Topher retorted.
"Who has access to the lab?" Dominic said, slightly calmer.
"The short list? Uh, DeWitt, Boyd, Ramirez, Saunders, Ivy, any number of handlers or attendants, and the occasional Doll wanders up here, then there's that janitorial staff--"
Any calm Dominic had evaporated. He shoved Topher, who fell in a heap in the Imprint Chair.
"What gonna happen when the boss lady comes back?" Topher said shakily.
"Her wrath is gonna rain down on me," Dominic said. "And then I'm coming after you. Let's go." He motioned to Eve and they departed along the catwalk, past Echo, looking lost.
"When I worked at the agency," Eve said. "You know what I'd do to someone who exposed us like that? I'd kill him."
Dominic led her into the elevator, exiting at Adelle's office. He planted himself in her chair and Eve stood nearby.
"Who's our target?" she asked.
"We found NSA tech in our equipment. DeWitt's known they've been sniffing around the Dollhouse for years. Getting access to their files is our best shot at finding the spy."
Eve raised an eyebrow. "Tall order."
Dominic shrugged. "If you don't think you can pull it off--"
"I didn't say that. I just want you to appreciate how awesome I'm gonna be when I deliver."
"Topher broke their RSA encryption but only for the internal network," he said, handing her a sheet with the information.
"Which means you need me to get inside their building."
"Yeah."
Eve looked at him over the sheet. "Where can a girl get changed around here?"
*
Eve waded through the aisles as the train rocked along on the tracks. She passed two balding businessmen before seeing Akira Sato, a pretty Asian girl with short black hair. Staring out the window, Sato didn't notice as Eve sat next to her. Eve tried to mimic her posture. For a moment, nothing was said.
"Excuse me," Eve asked. "Can I borrow a pen?"
Sato barely glanced at her before bending down and began digging around in her bag.
"Never mind," Eve said.
Sari looked up. She was wearing a pink blouse, light green skirt and zip-up heels. Eve was wearing a pink blouse, light green skirt, zip-up heels and a black wig. Akira's jaw dropped, and Eve jammed a "pen" in her leg and clicked it.
"Found one."
Akira's eyes widened and, a moment later, began drooping. She was unconscious in seconds.
Eve leaned over and nabbed Akira's identity card before returning her bag. She plucked her phone from her skirt pocket, held open Sato's eye with her finger and thumb, and snapped a picture of her eye. Then she got up calmly as her train pulled into the station.
Busy day ahead.
*
"Enter your private key," the guard asked her as she reached the desk. Eve tapped in a six-digit code onto the keypad. "You know the drill. Nothing goes in, nothing comes out. Your card will unlock the files you're cleared to see."
There was a buzzer, and Eve went through. She gave the guard a passing smile before she entered the room.
It wasn't much of a room. Only a few metres wide or tall, she could cross it in a few strides. No decoration, steel grey. The walls were made up of hundreds and hundreds of drawers. A podium with a scanner stood in the room's centre. Eve approached and swiped Sato's card. An eyeblink later, one of the drawers opened softly. Eve approached, only slightly worried: if it was gone, she would never forgive herself.
She was in luck: inside were what appeared to be plastic folders, used to hold paper sheets, transparent and blank. Eve grabbed the one on top
and held it up to the sole source of light. Along the edge, in a silver strip not dissimilar to a dollar bill, a code shone in the light's glow. It matched the one Eve had been assigned. Eve rolled up the file before concealing it. She smiled as she left the room. The fun was beginning.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the guard said, as the metal detector began beeping. "I'm gonna have to ask you to step over here."
"Did I leave something in there?" Eve asked, faking interest.
"Hold out your arms," he said, taking his handheld detector from its holster. It only took him a moment to reach her belt, and as the noise started, Eve brought her arm in, wedging the detector in her armpit, and sent a palm shot into the guard's face before flipping him over her shoulder. Eve left the guard in a heap, grabbed her bag and rushed for the elevator.
She reached her floor just as a voice warning of a security alert filled Eve's ears. She was running out of time.
Sato's office was down the corridor from the elevator. Eve hastily swiped the keycard and entered the code, rushing into the office. She went for the desk and almost immediately found what she was looking for: a small, suction cup device, attached to the computer. She took the file from her skirt and placed the cup on the seal. Computer code danced across the plastic sheet before Eve's eyes, the file revealing itself.
The door handle clicked. Eve quickly plucked the device from the file, leaving it blank, as a security guard-looking man stood in the doorway. "Sorry, Ms. Sato. We're moving everyone from SCIF offices down to the central lobby."
Eve smiled politely and began rolling up the sheet. "Just give me a second," she requested.
Escaping the crowd proved disappointingly easy. Within a minute, Eve was in a empty corridor, moving up her speed to a brisk jog. She took out her comms device and held it to her ear as she picked up the pace. "I need a roof extraction," she said. "North end of the building."
Eve reached the double doors that opened into a stairwell. Halfway up the case leading to the roof, she heard voices and at least two guards further up spotted her. Cursing, Eve retreated and headed for the staircase leading down, exiting into an identical corridor.
"Correction," she said into the comm. "Extraction on the south end."
Eve threw off her wig, letting her dirty blonde locks flow free. She was full out running now, made harder by the heels. As she reached the corner, several guards exited the stairwell she had just abandoned, their numbers having swelled. They ordered a surrender before two let rip a hail of bullets. Eve skidded the corner, the bullets burrowing into the wall behind her. She threw open the doors and leaped up the staircase leading to the roof. She looked through the window onto the helipad, desolate: empty. She reached for the doorknob and tugged at it: locked.
"The chopper's coming to you," someone said in her ear.
"Hurry," she ordered. "I have the name, but they're closing in."
Eve could hear their footsteps nearing just as a chopper floated into view.
*
Roger woke up in a strange metal chair in a strange room he didn't remember but seemed oddly familiar. Ramirez and the technician man with the funny shirts, were both looking at him.
"Good morning," Roger said.
"Welcome back, Roger," the man replied.
"Katherine is looking forward to seeing you," Ramirez told him.
"May we go now?" Roger asked, trying to mask his eagerness.
"Of course."
Roger stood and Ramirez led the way to the elevator. As they neared, the technician's Asian assistant - her name escaped him - walked in.
"Hey hey hey!" he said upon seeing her. The girl jumped, not seeing him behind one of his machines. "Have you been futzing around with the equipment?" he asked. "It's been running S-L-O-W."
"Um, I just got here?" she pointed out. "It's probably all the wires you crossed to get things working again."
The man opened his mouth to say something else, but the girl held up a juice box in early reply: clearly his question had been answered. She threw it down on the nearest computer and stormed into his office. He sighed and went back to his machine. "Be nice," Roger advised. "I think she likes you."
"Your lady awaits," Ramirez said, ignoring the man's flustered look.
*
"Katherine?"
Adelle heard him before she saw him. She turned to see him in the doorway leading onto the balcony, dressed to the nines. She had become so used to being called Katherine by Roger, answering to it was instinct. She looked at his face for a moment before kissing him. It was Victor's face, but she only saw Roger's. Suddenly, the stress of work and the blistering heat of the nearby sun evaporated away, and it was just them, interlocked, alone.
Of course, it only lasted a few seconds before Adelle's phone ruined it.
They parted and both stared at the phone, perched on the balcony overlooking the setting sun, ringing maniacally. Roger got their first. "Is this your work?" he asked. Adelle made a swipe for it, but Roger dodged. "'Topher'," he said, reading the contact. "Is that a name?"
"They think I'm at headquarters," Adelle admitted. "It could be very urgent, or it could be Topher calling to tell me that his sweater's itchy."
"Well, I could give it back or..." Roger held the phone high over the balcony, hovering over the cliff below. "I could drop it and let the sharks talk to their own. It's up to you."
Adele pondered it for a second. "Well, it is a very slippery phone. I have complained about that a lot."
"Oh, really? I hadn't--" Roger suddenly had a faux muscle spasm and the phone slipped from his grasp, cascading into numerous pieces as it bounced off the cliff face and out of sight. Adelle laughed the whole time. "That was probably a very bad thing that just happened," she admitted when it was over.
Roger shrugged. "Accidents. What can be done?" He draped an arm over her shoulder. "You're trying so hard to relax. Which makes me wonder why you're trying so hard to relax."
Adelle sighed and turned to lean against the balcony. "Am I that transparent?"
"No, but I have X-ray eyes."
Adelle smiled wearily. "It's been very rocky at work."
Roger nodded. "The Dollhouse. It's hard for me to even wrap my mind around it. Bizarre."
Adelle stared at her feet. "I used to head a division that grew replacement organs out of stem cells. I could tell people what I did for a living."
"And now? You've told me what you do.
Isn't it just helping lonely people? "
Adelee nodded. "Pathetic, self-deluding souls," she said, partly at herself.
"Now, Katherine: shall we take this elsewhere?"
*
Adelle lay back down on the bed. Roger kissed her for the millionth time, but she didn't care: she could never have too many. "You are perfection," he said. "If I could make a woman, I'd make you."
Roger collapsed down next to her. Adelle stared at the ceiling. "Really?" she asked.
"Yes. In fact, if I were one of your clients, I would order one of you with a spare for when you're in the shop."
Adelle laughed hollowly, but Roger clearly sensed something. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her. "What, Katherine? You're not seriously considering what I said?"
Adelle laughed for real this time. "No! I'm not suggesting you become a client." Her face fell serious in thought. "I think the universe might collapse under that one."
"Good. Because I don't want an ersatz you. I want the real you."
Adelle touched his face lightly. "And I want the real you. It's ironic. Sometimes I think you're the most real person I've ever met."
"That's not irony," Roger said. "No one gets that right."
"Everyone has their first date," Adelle said. "And the object is to hide your flaws. And then you're in a relationship, and it's all about hiding your disappointment. Then once you're married, it's about hiding your sins."
"Katherine: Mistress of the dark observation," Roger joked.
"But with you, there's no reason to hide anything real."
Roger considered her for a moment. "Let's run away together," he said flatly. "Cash in everything we own, and buy a bar on the beach in Rarotonga."
Adelle laughed and snuggled up close to him. "And buy extra phones just to drop them in the water. And we'd never own clocks or computers or sexy businesswoman shoes."
"I'm keeping my sexy businesswoman shoes," Roger insisted.
"And there'd be no clocks in the bar," Adelle continued. "Only cool local beers, and dogs that wander in from playing on the beach."
"It could be the weekend all the time."
They shared a smile. And then, Adelle felt a pang in her stomach. She wrapped a sheet around herself and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Just forget it," she said bitterly. "It can't happen."
"Why not?" Roger protested, approaching her from behind. "What's wrong? Something about you?" He touched her shoulder lightly. "Something about me?"
Adelle turned a bit to look him in the eye. "You aren't..." she began.
"I'm not... who you need?"
"Oh, no," Adelle insisted. "You're exactly who I need. We just can't have that. You have to trust me..."
They fell back onto the bed together, Adelle kissing him almost desperately, and then they just lay there together.
"I do," Roger said. "I trust you completely."
Roger woke up the next morning to an empty room. Only a few moments later, Adelle came in, fully dressed. "Darling, why are you dressed?" he asked. "Did you hear someone in the house? "
Adelle sat on the bed. She reached longingly for his hand and he scooted up to her, holding her assuringly. "What happened?" he asked again.
Adelle just sat silently for a moment. Then, she began to cry. Roger held her, but she almost didn't want him to, because she couldn't have it. Not any of it, not the freedom, not the running away, not even Roger, because he wasn't even Roger, he was Victor, and Victor wasn't even a person.
She wasn't sure how long she cried, but he was there the whole time. She held his hand to her face, heart burning, wishing desperately for him to be real.
*
Karima entered Adelle's office, folder in hand, Topher at her side. Dominic was sitting in Adelle's chair, watching the security feed. He clicked it off and stood up at her entrance.
"I need to interrogate all the people on this list now," Karima told him, showing him the folder.
"Who the hell are you?" Dominic ordered.
"I made her a spy hunter," Topher said. "To, you know, hunt the spy."
Dominic folded his arms. "It's being handled as we speak by Sierra."
"I know," Topher replied. "But Echo came in and she thought - I thought - she could help."
"If you let me speak to the people on this list, I'll uncover the spy before your field agent returns," Karima assured him.
Dominic sighed. "What are her parameters?" he asked Topher.
"She reads body language, knows advanced interrogation techniques and she's rockin' a little Sherlock Holmes," Topher said, smiling giddily.
Dominic looked pensive. Then, he held out his hand. "Give me the list."
Karima handed him the folder. "I wanna start with him," she added coolly, indicating Topher.
Topher's eyes widened. He gave an awkward laugh. "Um, I'm not the spy. I discovered the spy. Remember? The spy was operating under my nose."
"Which means you're either dangerously incompetent or you're trying to throw us off your trail," Karima countered.
Dominic smiled. "I'm sorry I ever doubted your programming skills."
*
The interviews went by the books, and Karima learned a lot. First was Topher. "Why are you at the Dollhouse?" she asked.
Topher shrugged. "Kind of a no-brainer. I'm in neuroplastic heaven. I'm doing work my grad school professors haven't even dreamed of yet." Karima scribbled down 'arrogant' in her notepad. "I mean," Topher continued, "I don't wanna brag - okay, I wanna brag - I'm kind of a genius." Karima scribbled down 'cocky'. Topher leaned forward, suddenly self-conscious. "Do you really think I'm incompetent, or are you just saying that to appease big bad Laurence?"
"So it matters what other people think about you?" Karima asked.
Topher gave an awkward laugh. Karima wrote down 'nihilist'.
When his assistant Ivy was quizzed, she gave a much more interesting answer. "Yeah. I spent eight years studying the intricacies of the human brain and what do I get to do when I graduate? Get snacks for Topher? Or get yelled at when I try to do something more? My talents go beyond asking whether he wants chocolate chip or oatmeal - which I do very well, thank you - but I probably know enough about the imprint equipment to rip it down and reassemble it without Topher ever knowing." Ivy frowned, as if just realising what she had said. "Well, that didn't sound good, did it?"
"I'm not trying to incriminate you," Karima assured her. "I'm just trying to nail down your feelings about the Dollhouse."
"We're pimps and killers," one Boyd Langton admitted when asked the same. "But in a philanthropic way. Can I go now?"
Karima was a little mysitifed. "I don't know why I trust you... but I do..."
Boyd shrugged. "I must have one of those faces."
"I'm looking at the security logs since the Alpha incident," Karima told Doctor Claire Saunders. "When was the last time you left the Dollhouse?"
"I feel like I can better serve the Actives if I'm here," Doctor Saunders replied timidly.
Karima leant back in Adelle's chair. "Twenty-four seven?"
"Engagements run around the clock.
You never know when there's gonna be an emergency."
"I don't doubt your intentions," Karima agreed. "But such intense focus on your work can leave other parts of your life empty and open to exploitation. Do you have friends outside the Dollhouse?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. Saunders' lip quivered, searching for an answer that wouldn't embarrass her, when Dominic's phone rang from the corner of Adelle's office. He said a few words before he hung up. "You lose," he said. "Sierra's been safely extracted, barely, and she has the mole's identity."
Dominic and Doctor Saunders both left, but Dominic returned to Adelle's office only minutes later. Karima watched from the desk as Dominic exited the elevator with Topher behind him and a squirming Ivy held firmly in his grasp.
"No, wait, wait, no!" Ivy pleaded. "You don't understand, I didn't do anything! Why would I spy on the Doll--"
Dominic threw her in a heap onto Adelle's sofa. "I don't care why!" he spat. "We'll get that from you when DeWitt has me torture you. And you'll tell us everything. And then DeWitt will send you to the Attic. Do you know what happens in the Attic?"
Dominic indicated for Topher to speak. "It's a mental suck," Topher said flatly, still in shock. "You know that feeling you get when a name's on the tip of your tongue, but you can't say it? It's like that, but with every thought you never have."
"I am not the spy," Ivy insisted. "You believe me, right?" she asked Topher. He just stood silently, not looking at her.
"You take her to the holding room--"
"How long?"
Everyone turned to look at Karima. She was just sitting, reading Ivy's NSA file.
"Until DeWitt gets back?" Dominic asked, confused.
Karima dropped the file and turned in the chair to look at him. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"
"Excuse me?"
Karima leant forward and looked Dominic straight in the eye. "You work for the NSA."
Dominic looked like he wanted to throttle her. "You have a file that says she's the one," he pointed out.
"Uh-huh?"
Dominic scoffed. "What, is her 'body language' telling you she's innocent?" he asked mockingly.
"No, her language language is telling you she's innocent," Ivy added acidly.
"Your body language is telling me something," Karima told Dominic.
"Oh yeah?"
Topher and Ivy stared attentively at Karima, who folded her arms. "When you got word that Sierra had been extracted with the spy's identity," Karima began, "Everyone in this room got tense. 'Who? Who betrayed us? Who's the spy?' But you: you got loose. Your body breathed a big, subconscious sigh of relief. Why? Because you already knew that file would implicate Ivy."
"You expect anyone to buy this pseudo-science?" Dominic sneered.
"They don't have to. There was a phone call made to the NSA after the lockdown. You warned the NSA Sierra was coming so that they could plant this file for her to find. You wanted us to blame Ivy so that you could continue to operate."
"I couldn't have called," Dominic argued. "The phones were shut off."
"In the Dollhouse. Not in this office."
"I think it's time for her treatment," he told Topher.
Karima shrugged. "Proof is in the logs."
"And anyone could have snuck in here."
Karima looked at him for a few seconds. "You're right," she said, getting to her feet. "That's why I've let this conversation continue as long as it has. I needed one more sign to confirm my suspicion."
"And what sign would that be?" Dominic asked.
Karima's eyes narrowed. "Twenty seconds ago, you unsnapped your holster."
A split second later, Dominic's gun was out and firing rounds. Karima propelled herself back, rolling over the desk and landing on the hardwood floor on the other side, as a hail of bullets shattered the glass window behind her. Topher and Ivy ducked for cover behind the couch as Dominic circled around to the right, firing behind the desk, but Karima ducked and rolled and emerged the other side. She hastily got to her feet amidst the glass shards as Dominic approached, firing a round that narrowly missed Karima's head that shattered the TV screen behind her. Before he could pull the trigger again, Karima blade kicked the desk chair his way, throwing him off guard, but it was out of his way in a second. Dominic charged, but Karima ducked low and swept his legs out from under him. His gun clattered down beside him, and Karima kicked it away as Dominic struggled to his own feet.
"This is the Dollhouse," she said, getting into a fighting stance. "You know how far they reach. There's no way you're getting away with this."
Dominic lunged, getting his arms under her, and Karima wrapped her legs around him to absorb some of the impact as he rammed her against the wall. He pinned her up, eyes rabid. "You haven't figured it out?" he growled, teeth bared. "Use your deductive skills. You're a Doll!" He pulled her back and slammed her again, Karima seeing stars. "A broken Doll who's gone off mission before. "Now, when DeWitt asks me to explain myself--"
"You'll tell her I went off mission?" Karima panted.
Dominic smiled. "And I had no choice but to kill you."
He threw her down on the shattered glass, and Karima's head spun. Dominic reached for her again, but she felt something against her fingertips: a particularly large glass shard. She grabbed it and swiped towards him, cutting across his upper arm. Dominic yelped and backed off. Karima scrambled back up, backing away. Dominic ripped the torn fabric from his arm.
"And Topher and Ivy?" Karima asked.
"Collateral damage," Dominic said, wrapping the fabric around his hand before bending down and snatching a shard himself, never taking his eyes off her. "I'd say I'm covered."
He darted forward, swiping madly, but Karima dodged, again, again. On the last, she ducked, and Dominic missed his target and whirled around. As he turned back to face her, Karima grabbed the glass-bearing arm, grabbing his neck with her other hand, and locked his arm across her collarbone. Dominic used his free hand to punch her in the gut, sending her stumbling, but she regained herself soon and sent a hooking punch his way. Dominic blocked and punched her in the cheek, whipping her head back, then finished with a spin kick that sent Karima into a nearby table. The wood broke beneath her weight and she fell to the floor in a storm of splinters.
"You're dangerous," Dominic sneered, approaching her. "You should have been in the ground a long time ago."
Karima suddenly felt a sharp pain in her head. Dominic, only in the past, hitting her with the butt of a rifle.
"You tried to kill me before..." she realised. She yelled as Dominic grabbed her by the hair and threw her away, Karima sliding into the shattered window glass once again. "You're another Alpha waiting to happen."
As he neared, Karima grabbed another sizeable chunk of glass, rushed to her feet and swiped widely. Dominic grabbed the swinging arm easily and threw it back the way it came, but Karima used it to her advantage: she turned her hip and grabbed his shoulder with the other hand, preparing a punch to the gut with the glass hand, but Dominic turned and twirled from her grasp. Karima drew her arm back after him and Dominic yelled as the glass sliced across his chest. He stumbled back against Adelle's desk, and Karima sent a kick, full force, into his stomach, sending him crashing into the shattered window frame. Karima grabbed his tie and held him half out the window, far above the street below.
"I'm not broken."
*
Adelle sent the address. Nobody knew why she was in a beach house, but nobody asked nor cared. Karima planted Dominic, hands bound, into a wooden chair. She retreated to the corner as Adelle stared down at him, arms folded.
"I trusted you with a gift, Mr.
Dominic," Adelle said flatly.
"The Dollhouse is not a gift," Dominic growled.
"I think the countless people we've helped would disagree with you," Adelle replied.
"And the countless people you've hurt?" Dominic retorted.
"Name one."
"Her," Dominic said, cocking his head at Karima.
"Funny, coming from the man who tried to kill her. Twice." She approached him slowly. "Why did you want to bring down the Dollhouse? What can the NSA do with it that we can't?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't sent to bring you down. I was sent to make sure you didn't bring yourself down. If it weren't for me, Paul Ballard would have found you. I never lied to you about my methods or my priorities."
"You lied about your intentions," Adelle pointed out. She turned her back on him and began walking to where she was standing.
"You know what the world will be like when Rossum lets the Dollhouse slip from its grasp?" Dominic said. "The technology needs to be reigned in and controlled!"
Adelle stopped walking and turned on her heel to glare at him. "By a clandestine organization with little government oversight?!"
Dominic shook his head slightly. "It's embarrassing how naive you are.
You believe in the Dollhouse and its mission? Just like you believed in me.
And look how that played out. You were wrong."
Adelle glanced at Karima. "Get what you can of him about the NSA, and have Topher prep him for the Attic."
Karima dragged him to his feet, but Dominic struggled to get closer to Adelle, sneering. "That's it, 'Miss DeWitt'? You're signing my death warrant like it was a business transaction?!"
"It is," Adelle said simply.
"The Agency will figure it out and they'll come looking for me."
Adelle neared, so that she was mere inches from his face. "And when they do you'll tell them everything's fine, and then we'll put you back in your box." Dominic's face faltered. "What?" Adelle said mockingly. "Did you think I'd show you mercy? Or rage? Three years by my side. I think you know me better than that."
Dominic smiled. "You are a piece of work."
Adelle stared off into space. "So they tell me. Goodbye."
And Adelle left, not sparing him a second glance.
*
It was a short ride back to the Dollhouse. Karima sat in the back of the van. Dominic lay on the floor, his head against the back doors. Karima noticed he was smiling.
"What's in store for you, you don't have much to smile about."
"After you beat me to a pulp, they're gonna erase me," Dominic said. "But first, they're gonna erase you."
"I can take care of myself," Karima said coolly.
Dominic's smile widened. "I know. That's why I'm smiling. 'Cause one day, you'll be erasing them. And even after all this, they still won't see it coming." His smile lessened. "Sooner or later, everybody gets theirs."
Karima wasn't sure what he was talking about. And yet on some level, she had the faintest idea.
*
Adelle watched as Laurence Dominic was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the Imprint Room by several armed guards, his screaming quelled by the device in his mouth to stop him swallowing his tongue. He was thrown into the chair as Topher and Ivy manoeuvred around him, sticking wires in everywhere. Machines crackled and blue lights strobed. Adelle stood calmly by the window, Boyd silent at her side. As Topher moved out of the way to another machine, Adelle saw Dominic's hand snatching at one of the men's holsters, grabbing a pistol and trying desperately to point it at his head.
"Stop him!" Adelle yelled. "Don't let him!"
The men tried desperately to wrestle it from his grasp, but could only redirect it before Dominic pulled the trigger. Adelle gasped as the bullet tore through her hip, her blood splattering against the window. Boyd rushed to inspect the wound, but she slapped him away. "It's a graze," she snapped: sure enough, there was only a deep red scratch just above her hip bone. "Get on with it," she ordered at the others.
"Neuromods set for chemical saturation," Topher said.
Ivy inspected the last wire stuck to Dominic's forehead. "Neuromuscular debilitators in place."
"LTP de-potentiated," Topher replied as the chair reclined. "Trans mag primed." He looked at Adelle. "We're ready."
Dominic stared at Adelle. She stared at him.
"Do it."
Topher pulled the switch, and Dominic's screams got even louder, a deafening, scraggly noise, as blue light pulsed rapidly, as machines whirred, as Dominic's body arced in the chair. Then, within a few seconds, his body relaxed. The blinding blue dissipated. The room fell silent. Dominic was quiet, his eyes closed.
Adelle immediately pulled open the door and exited onto the balcony, clutching her side, feeling sick. She leant against the railing and looked into the Dollhouse below. Echo and Sierra were staring at her. A few moments later, Topher emerged, Imprint Wedge in hand. "The, uh, unabridged Laurence Dominic," he said solemnly.
"Lose it in the archives," Adelle said. "His body is on the way to the Attic."
Topher glanced at her blood-stained blouse. "Uh, bleeding. Blood. Coagulating. You should see Dr. Saunders..."
Adelle ignored him. "How did I not see this coming?"
"No one did," Topher said sympathetically.
"Yes, you saw enough to imprint Echo as an investigator."
"Yeah, about that..." Topher glanced around, moved in closer. "Unless you're about to give me a better parking space, I can't take all the credit for that."
"Ivy?"
Topher shook his head. "Echo." Adelle's eyes widened. "She came to me and asked me to imprint her."
"Dominic had her in his crosshairs for months," Adelle realised. "She took out her biggest threat."
"She's still evolving. Saunders's wish fulfillment exercise didn't fulfill anything."
Adelle nodded, glancing down at Echo. "She's protecting herself."
"Do you want me to wipe her again?"
Adelle shook her head. "No. She just saved the Dollhouse. Keep an eye on her. Echo might be useful to us in ways we haven't yet realized." Adelle started to walk away before something occurred to her. "Oh, I almost forgot, shelve the Roger imprint. Miss Lonelyhearts phoned and said she no longer requires his services."
Topher giggled. "Some hunky octogenarian sweep her off her walker?"
"Nothing so dramatic. She finally realized the indiscretion was unwise." Adelle left Topher. And, to an extent, Dominic, in his hand.
*
"This would have been easier if you had taken an anesthetic," Doctor Saunders said as she finished sewing up Adelle's side.
"It's nothing," Adelle said, gritting her teeth.
"No, just a gunshot wound," Saunders replied, sticking a bandage over the wound. Adelle stood and pulled on her blouse. "I know you were close to Mr.
Dominic..."
"He was an employee with whom I worked closely. There's a difference."
"It's okay to feel something," Saunders said.
"That would imply I'd lost something," Adelle said flatly, walking for the door.
"Didn't you?"
Adelle paused. She could see Victor walking by on the main floor.
"Nothing I can't live without."
Boyd popped his head in the other door. "Ms. DeWitt? I ran a full security sweep," he said, handing her a file.
They walk out together through the massage area, Adelle flicking through the file. "New background checks on all employees are in the works, but right now it looks like this didn't go any further than Dominic."
"Congratulations, Mr. Langton."
Boyd looked puzzled. "For what?"
"For becoming our new Head of Security."
Boyd shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer to stay with Echo.
I need to take care of her."
"Apparently, you don't. It seems she's the one taking care of us."
*
"Echo," Topher said, sticking the final suction cup to her collarbone. "I'd like you to meet your new handler. His name is Travis." He indicated the young Asian man in a nice suit at his side. "Go ahead."
Travis took her hand and read from the paper in his other hand. "Everything's gonna be all right."
"Now that you're here," Echo said slowly, looking into his eyes.
"Do you trust me?
Echo glanced behind Travis. Boyd was standing in the doorway, looking at her.
"Do you trust me?" Travis asked again.
"With my life," Echo said.
But Echo wasn't talking to Travis.
"What's happening?" Sierra asked.
"She made a mistake," Echo said. "Now she's sad."
Echo didn't even blink as the gunshot rang and the window above was splattered with blood.
*
TWELVE HOURS EARLIER
"Everyone thinks its about the pain," Evanora told Boyd from her seat in the van. "It's not about the pain, it's about trust. Handing yourself over fully and completely to another human being. There's nothing more beautiful than letting go like that." She sat back, fondling her whip, crossing one high-heeled boot over another, confident with her words.
"In my experience, that kind of trust always leads to pain," Boyd said gruffly.
"Then maybe you need a session in my dungeon so I can show you otherwise." She smirked.
Boyd shook his head. "Thanks. I think I'll pass."
Evanora sat forward. "Don't be so vanilla. You can trust me. I've already shown that I trust you. I got in the van, didn't I?"
"You sure that was a wise decision?"
Evanora smiled playfully. "I have a good feeling about you. And I've got the whip," she pointed out, twirling it between her fingers. The engine stopped rumbling and Boyd opened the door, leading Evanora into an underground parking lot. "If you reconsider, I have an opening after my treatment."
From the nearby elevator exited Victor, looking sharp in an expensive suit, and Melissa Ramirez, his pretty Handler, whose eyes widened at the sight of Evanora in her skimpy leather outfit.
"Don't even start," Ramirez said immediately, indicating Victor. "They've got him on another Lonelyhearts engagement."
"What's that make, nine?" Boyd asked.
"Ten," Ramirez corrected. "How pathetic is that old bag?"
Victor picked at something on his collar. "Ramirez pretends to be jaded, but she's got a secret stash of bodice-rippers in the van," he revealed in a posh British accent. "I've seen it." Evanora smiled.
Ramirez smirked. "Not true," she said, but Boyd noticed blood rushing to her cheeks.
"She wants to be kidnapped by a pirate," Victor revealed.
"I know a guy," Evanora offered.
"If I weren't madly in live with Catherine, I'd Shanghai you myself," Victor said, putting his arm around Ramirez.
She raised an eyebrow at Boyd's chuckle. "I'd take S&M Barbie over him any day," she said. "Come on, your geriatric princess awaits..."
As they passed, Evanora flicked her wrist: the whip cracked against Ramirez's ankle. She yelped and rubbed it.
"It's love," Evanora said, tossing the whip over her shoulder. "Show some respect."
Ramirez gave a parting glare before leaving. Boyd held his hand out to Evanora: she reluctantly placed the whip in his grasp and shrugged. "Sometimes its about the pain."
*
Echo woke up as the chair rose. Ivy was standing over her. "Hi Echo. How are you?"
"Did I fall asleep?" Echo asked, unsure.
"For a little while," Ivy confirmed.
"Shall I go now?" Echo asked.
Ivy nodded. "If you like."
Echo was startled when Topher emerged from behind the computers, making a loud buzzer noise. He chuckled. "Okay, okay... uh, Ivy, babe, the post-imprint script may seem inconsequential, but it's the first thing an Active hears after a memory wipe. It's GOT to be pleasant. Not so..."
The door swung open and Mr. Dominic stepped in. "Out of the chair, Echo," he said gruffly.
"That," Topher finished quietly.
Dominic shot Topher a look. "You're behind schedule," he snarled as Echo stood.
Topher raised an eyebrow. "Somebody's a grumpeteer today."
"What's the holdup?"
Topher sighed. "You remember how Saunders' little drill ended with a bullet in my computer? And guess what that does: slows down the schedule."
"Fix it," He looked to Echo. "You need to get to you appointment with Doctor Saunders."
Echo followed him down the catwalk, her bare feet padding across the carpet. From the corridor it led to emerged Adelle DeWitt. As she approached, Echo descended the stairs, walking slowly as to here the conversation.
"Aside from Topher being Topher, everything's under control," Dominic told Adelle.
"And I'll expect you to keep it that way while I'm gone," Adelle replied, a touch of weariness to her voice.
"Did Rossum tell you why they're calling you in?"
"Considering our recent track record, I'm sure they want to pat me on the head and tell me I've been running a crackerjack operation," she said sarcastically. "Maybe they'll be cake."
"Ma'am, none of these incidents were your fault."
"On the contrary, Mr. Dominic, everything that happens under this roof is my fault. And for the next 48 hours, it's yours."
Adelle returned the way she had come as Echo reached the main floor. She began walking and paused at the pond where other people were doing yoga.
"Hello November," Echo said to the woman at the front.
November caught sight of her and smiled. "Hello, Echo. How are you today?"
"I'm going to Doctor Saunders," Echo informed her.
November nodded. "She's nice."
An attendant approached them from behind. "November, it's time for your treatment."
November gave Echo a parting smile before following the woman. Echo smiled back and went for the sliding door of Doctor Saunders' office.
*
"Take a deep breath for me please," Doctor Saunders asked, pressing the stethoscope into Echo's spine. As Echo inhaled, Boyd slid open the office door. "Any permanent damage?" he asked.
"These exams are private," Doctor Saunders said, though she didn't sound particularly fussed.
"Her last engagement seemed unnecessarily rough," Boyd said.
Saunders left the table and went to her desk's computer. "She was a dominatrix, I think that was the point." Echo blinked. She didn't remember being a dominatrix: she didn't know what a dominatrix was.
Boyd followed her. "I prefer engagements that aren't about some--"
"Deep, dark, sexual need?" Saunders finished.
"You really think it has anything to do with need?"
Saunders shrugged. "Sometimes, yes. Having a desire you're afraid of expressing can be terribly debilitating. Look how many same-sex engagements we're called for, even today. And sadomasochism isn't anything like--"
"I know," Boyd interrupted. "'It's all about trust'. But what if the client has the whip?"
"We don't send the Actives to submissives."
"Man, you've got the pitch down. You should fill in for DeWitt."
Saunders looked at him. "I believe the system is flawed, maybe irreparably, but maybe not for the same reasons you do." Doctor Saunders caught sight of Echo, who had become deeply fascinated with the overhead light. "Echo, you're all done here. You can go now."
Echo smiled and stood. Boyd opened the door and they returned to the main floor. They were just going past the stairs when someone said Boyd's name.
It was Topher, and he said it urgently, rushing down the stairs from his office towards them. He motioned away from Echo, and Boyd signalled for her to stay. Boyd and Topher stepped away, but only slightly.
"In about two minutes, I'm gonna make a call to DeWitt," Topher said. "If you were to do something, maybe get some air, maybe run, I wouldn't know that you had done that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..." Boyd said slowly.
Topher squinted. "You don't?"
Boyd shook his head. Topher gave a quick scan of the area before pulling a tiny piece of metal from his pocket. "I found this in the chair," he whispered, dropping it into Boyd's hand.
"And?"
"This chip let someone access the primary imprint protocol, which means they could have altered my imprints. I make a cheerleader: they make a cheerleader that shoots people! Or an assassin that does cheers! Or any Active, any time, with a parameter we don't know about."
Boyd finally looked like he understood. "We have a spy?"
Topher nodded. "Inside the Dollhouse."
"And you think it's me. You think I'm the spy?"
Topher faltered. "...not in a bad way!"
Boyd smiled slightly. "If they find out that you talked to me before you called DeWitt, they'll fry you."
Topher looked at the ceiling. "...yeah, I didn't really think that through..."
"Thank you."
Topher smiled. "I'm boned anyway. I call DeWitt, she's gonna take it out on Dominic, and who's Dominic gonna take it out on? Now Echo's drawing attention to us!"
Boyd turned. Echo was waving at the newly-Imprinted November, up on the catwalk above with her Handler. November just stared at her, no longer knowing who Echo was. Boyd tapped her on the shoulder. "Maybe you should go to art class." Echo absorbed the information, then walked towards the art facilities, smiling. "And maybe you should call DeWitt," he told Topher.
Topher nodded and rushed up stairs. Boyd watched him go.
*
Echo trimmed her bonsai tree's branch, the art teacher smiling approvingly. Echo smiled at Sierra, who was trimming an identical tree. Echo was admiring her newly-trimmed plant when something caught her eye. Up above, in his office, Topher was beckoning to someone. Echo looked to where he was facing: Mr. Dominic was just outside the door. He rushed in at Topher's summons.
"Echo," the lady asked. "Are you finished with your tree?"
Echo gave her bonsai one last look before standing. As she stepped just outside the art area, she saw Topher explaining something to Mr. Dominic, elbows flailing. A second later, Dominic's face contorted with rage, pointing in Topher's face, before he stormed out. Dominic flew down the stairs, motioning to two nearby security guards as he rushed across the main floor.
"Put the entire house on lockdown," he ordered. "No one comes or goes without my authorisation. No land lines, no cell phones or network connections."
As he finished, Dominic reached the art area, went right past Echo and grabbed Sierra by the upper arm. "You, come on, you're getting a treatment..."
Dominic and Sierra went back up the stairs. In a few seconds, they disappeared up the catwalk, probably into the office. Slowly, tentatively, Echo put her foot on the first step. Then the second. Echo climbed the stairs, her feet eventually reaching carpet. She looked down the catwalk to the room next to Topher's office, the one with the black brick walls and the chair. The Imprint Room. The door was open: Sierra was in the reclining chair, squirming as the blue light pulsed around her head. As the light stopped and the chair rose, Echo saw, through the open blinds, Mr. Dominic and Topher were arguing again. She jumped as Dominic shoved Topher into the vacated chair. Topher looked like he wanted to stand, but thought better of it. Dominic and Sierra appeared in the doorway, and Echo turned her back. They rushed by, not glancing at her. Echo distinctly heard Sierra saying something about killing. As they descended the stairs, Echo looked back to the Imprint Room. Topher had not left the chair. Echo walked into the room.
"Everyone's unhappy today," she observed.
Topher jumped, not having seen her come in, then sighed. "Somebody put her tiny little thinking cap on," he said, finally standing.
"He was mean to you," she said. "Were you not your best?"
"If it hadn't been for me, there'd still be a security beach!" Topher said. He began working at one of the larger computers in the small space. "You'd think the security head would recognise that! Typical middle-management hack. He's mad at me for not is discovering it before it happened. But I'm not a counterintelligence agent, so I can't catch a spy, and... you have no idea what I'm talking about..."
Topher went back to his computer. Echo looked at the chair. "I can help you."
Topher looked at her again, confused. "Why would you want to?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"...did I just lose an argument to a doll? Okay, I'm... thanks, but you can't help."
"You make people different." Echo sat in the chair, put her hands on the strange, flat armrests, her head in the headrest. "You make me help."
Topher's jaw dropped. Echo sat back and waited for her treatment.
*
Mellie woke up in a strange metal chair in a room with black walls. Gregory was there, as was a short Asian girl with a lab coat and piercings. Ivy.
"Hello, Mellie," Ivy said. "How do you feel?"
"Jet-lagged," Mellie said, smiling. "That's the last time I take the redeye and an emergency exit row behind a crying baby."
"So we good to go?" Gregory asked Ivy as Mellie stood up.
"Hang on," Ivy said from the keyboard. "Let me double check the primary protocol just to be sure it took."
Mellie stepped out onto the catwalk. Down below, on the other side of the large, spa-like space, a pretty woman with shiny, wavy brown hair and wide brown eyes, was waving at her.
"Where do I know her from?" Mellie asked absently as Gregory emerged.
"Come on," Gregory said, tapping her shoulder. "The airport shuttle's waiting to take you home."
Mellie gave the girl one last look before following.
*
Mellie was just getting her key from her pocket when Paul's door flew open. Paul jumped out, gun in hand, eyes wild and face unshaven. His steely exterior faltered at the sight of her.
"Mellie?" His gun dropped to his side. "I heard something in--"
"The hallway, where your neighbours walk to their apartments?" she said resentfully.
"I didn't know you were coming back so soon," Paul said, his eyes returning to human size.
Mellie shrugger. "Surprise--"
"It's not safe to talk out here." He grabbed her suitcase and motioned into his apartment. Mellie stepped in hurriedly and Paul closed the door, locking at least a dozen new locks and sliding a protective metal bar into place.
"Wow," Mellie said weakly. "I guess the neighbourhood went to crap while I was gone..."
"Not the neighbourhood, my apartment. The Dollhouse had it bugged, video and audio. Took awhile for me to figure it out, but I found a transmitter in the ventilation. I should search your apartment."
"I'm surprised you didn't," Mellie said.
"Well, I was gonna let myself in, but--"
"No, no. It's okay. You should check it out," she said, stepping into living room. "I'm just going to stay here where I'm safe from the... Dollhouse..."
The room was covered with files, pictures and little notes with ideas scrawled on them. Taking up the entire wall above the mantelpiece was a huge collage of pictures, bank forms, security camera stills, everything, possible leads connected with red pieces of string. Mellie couldn't help but notice that the picture of Caroline was in the centre.
"I guess you didn't miss me that much..."
Paul rushed to the board and indicated it theatrically. "The Dollhouse is way bigger than I ever thought it was. Every time I look deeper, I find more clients, larger amounts of money, and a web of financial and political connections all over the world, to corporations, the government, even inside the FBI--"
"I take it you haven't gotten your badge back--?"
"But that's just scratching the surface. I discovered something else. I think the Dollhouse is underground."
"Didn't we know that?" Mellie said. "Super-secret underground organisation?"
Paul shook his head. "Not 'underground' like it's a secret: 'underground' like it's somewhere beneath Los Angeles!" Paul looked at her long enough to see her expression. His hands fell limply. "You didn't come back to listen to this..." he said apologetically.
Mellie shrugged. "I came back to see you."
"I'm sorry. It's just..." Paul sighed. "You should go back to your mother's."
"I can't. And aside from the obvious reasons - like she lives in Iowa and likes to set me up with losers I dated in High School - I realised that I was running away for my life," Mellie said, picking some garbage from the coffee table.
"I'm giving you an out," Paul said. "You can walk out that door."
Mellie smiled. "Pretty sure I can't even unlock it..."
"Hey, I'm serious," Paul said desperately. "I can't sleep. The only thing I think about it finding this place, and sometimes I don't even know why I'm after it anymore!"
"That's why you need someone to help you stay grounded."
Paul looked down at her. "How are you gonna do that?"
Mellie craned her neck and pushed her lips to his. "Let's start with getting you into the shower.," she whispered.
She lead him into the bedroom, and they were kissing again. Paul peeled off his hoodie, began at Mellie's dress.
Then Mellie took a sharp breath and froze. Unmoving. Paul removed his hands and stared at her, perplexed. She just looked at Paul's T-Shirt, eyes vacant.
"Too much?" Paul asked. "Too fast?" He gave a joking sniff of his arm. "Do I really smell that bad?"
Mellie finally looked him in the eye, seeing him and yet not seeing him, and spoke in barely a whisper.
"I have a message for you from inside the Dollhouse."
Paul took a step back. "That's not funny--"
"My name is November."
Paul shook his head. "Mellie, your name is Mellie--"
"We knew this would be hard for you to here."
"If you're pissed because I'm still investigating the Dollhouse--"
"This body belongs to a doll," she said simply.
"--Just tell me, don't do this!"
"I'm sorry we had to deliver the news to you like this, in this body, but the Dollhouse has likely discovered that we've been placing messages in their imprints, and this is the only way we could get the message to you."
"They did this to you..."
Mellie - November - shook her head slightly. "They did this long before you met me. They've been using this body to spy on you for months. The only reason Mellie exists is because of you."
Paul scoffed. "Aren't I special?!"
"Now that you've removed their surveillance, they're going to rely on her more. Don't tell her anything about the investigation. It will get back to the Dollhouse."
"That's why you - she - came back," Paul realised.
"Now you understand how dangerous their technology is."
"I slept with her," Paul said hollowly, turning his back. "I should have known."
"You can't tell Mellie about this," November said. "If the Dollhouse knows you know, they will kill you. And they'll make Mellie do it."
Paul shook his head. "Mellie couldn't."
"She's not a regular Doll. She's a Sleeper. With the flip of a switch, the Dollhouse can turn her into a killer. If our person inside has been captured--"
"Wait--"
"This is the last time you'll hear from us through a doll--"
Paul rushed back to her. "You can't tear apart my life and not give me anything! Where's the Dollhouse located?"
"You need to investigate why it exists."
"Is it underground? Am I on the right track?"
"The Dolhouse deals in fantasy, but that is not their purpose," November said. "Investigate their purpose. We will find other ways to contact you."
"Who? Who sent you?!"
"I'm not imprinted with information you're not supposed to have," November said flatly.
"Tell me who!"
"Remember: you can't tell her. You must maintain the illusion."
"WAIT!"
Mellie's eyes focused. She smiled. "Paul, what's wrong?"
Paul remained speechless for a moment before he forced a smile. "Nothing."
She smiled further and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Then why aren't you kissing me?"
Paul did. For once, he wanted it to end.
*
"My men have been trying to reach DeWitt," Dominic said as Sierra received her Imprint. "She's still not picking up. Is she gonna be able to pull it off?" he asked, indicating Sierra.
Topher nodded. "I threw my best secret agent parts into the build."
Dominic looked to the nearby monitor. "The GPS on DeWitt's cell transmitter isn't registering, either. If anything happened to DeWitt--"
"Hey, think happy thoughts," Topher encouraged.
As Sierra - her Imprint known as Eve - stood up, Dominic grabbed a fistful of Topher's shirt.
"That's not happy--" Topher observed, voice high.
"Is everything a joke to you?" Dominic snarled.
"Notice I'm not laughing!"
"You need me to take care of this?" Eve offered, standing from the chair.
Dominic ignored her. "You allowed a security breach to develop on your turf!" he spat.
"Not my department, Mr. HEAD OF SECURITY!"
"You leave these doors wide open, computers on, chair running!"
"It's your job to make sure everybody that works here is on our side!" Topher retorted.
"Who has access to the lab?" Dominic said, slightly calmer.
"The short list? Uh, DeWitt, Boyd, Ramirez, Saunders, Ivy, any number of handlers or attendants, and the occasional Doll wanders up here, then there's that janitorial staff--"
Any calm Dominic had evaporated. He shoved Topher, who fell in a heap in the Imprint Chair.
"What gonna happen when the boss lady comes back?" Topher said shakily.
"Her wrath is gonna rain down on me," Dominic said. "And then I'm coming after you. Let's go." He motioned to Eve and they departed along the catwalk, past Echo, looking lost.
"When I worked at the agency," Eve said. "You know what I'd do to someone who exposed us like that? I'd kill him."
Dominic led her into the elevator, exiting at Adelle's office. He planted himself in her chair and Eve stood nearby.
"Who's our target?" she asked.
"We found NSA tech in our equipment. DeWitt's known they've been sniffing around the Dollhouse for years. Getting access to their files is our best shot at finding the spy."
Eve raised an eyebrow. "Tall order."
Dominic shrugged. "If you don't think you can pull it off--"
"I didn't say that. I just want you to appreciate how awesome I'm gonna be when I deliver."
"Topher broke their RSA encryption but only for the internal network," he said, handing her a sheet with the information.
"Which means you need me to get inside their building."
"Yeah."
Eve looked at him over the sheet. "Where can a girl get changed around here?"
*
Eve waded through the aisles as the train rocked along on the tracks. She passed two balding businessmen before seeing Akira Sato, a pretty Asian girl with short black hair. Staring out the window, Sato didn't notice as Eve sat next to her. Eve tried to mimic her posture. For a moment, nothing was said.
"Excuse me," Eve asked. "Can I borrow a pen?"
Sato barely glanced at her before bending down and began digging around in her bag.
"Never mind," Eve said.
Sari looked up. She was wearing a pink blouse, light green skirt and zip-up heels. Eve was wearing a pink blouse, light green skirt, zip-up heels and a black wig. Akira's jaw dropped, and Eve jammed a "pen" in her leg and clicked it.
"Found one."
Akira's eyes widened and, a moment later, began drooping. She was unconscious in seconds.
Eve leaned over and nabbed Akira's identity card before returning her bag. She plucked her phone from her skirt pocket, held open Sato's eye with her finger and thumb, and snapped a picture of her eye. Then she got up calmly as her train pulled into the station.
Busy day ahead.
*
"Enter your private key," the guard asked her as she reached the desk. Eve tapped in a six-digit code onto the keypad. "You know the drill. Nothing goes in, nothing comes out. Your card will unlock the files you're cleared to see."
There was a buzzer, and Eve went through. She gave the guard a passing smile before she entered the room.
It wasn't much of a room. Only a few metres wide or tall, she could cross it in a few strides. No decoration, steel grey. The walls were made up of hundreds and hundreds of drawers. A podium with a scanner stood in the room's centre. Eve approached and swiped Sato's card. An eyeblink later, one of the drawers opened softly. Eve approached, only slightly worried: if it was gone, she would never forgive herself.
She was in luck: inside were what appeared to be plastic folders, used to hold paper sheets, transparent and blank. Eve grabbed the one on top
and held it up to the sole source of light. Along the edge, in a silver strip not dissimilar to a dollar bill, a code shone in the light's glow. It matched the one Eve had been assigned. Eve rolled up the file before concealing it. She smiled as she left the room. The fun was beginning.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the guard said, as the metal detector began beeping. "I'm gonna have to ask you to step over here."
"Did I leave something in there?" Eve asked, faking interest.
"Hold out your arms," he said, taking his handheld detector from its holster. It only took him a moment to reach her belt, and as the noise started, Eve brought her arm in, wedging the detector in her armpit, and sent a palm shot into the guard's face before flipping him over her shoulder. Eve left the guard in a heap, grabbed her bag and rushed for the elevator.
She reached her floor just as a voice warning of a security alert filled Eve's ears. She was running out of time.
Sato's office was down the corridor from the elevator. Eve hastily swiped the keycard and entered the code, rushing into the office. She went for the desk and almost immediately found what she was looking for: a small, suction cup device, attached to the computer. She took the file from her skirt and placed the cup on the seal. Computer code danced across the plastic sheet before Eve's eyes, the file revealing itself.
The door handle clicked. Eve quickly plucked the device from the file, leaving it blank, as a security guard-looking man stood in the doorway. "Sorry, Ms. Sato. We're moving everyone from SCIF offices down to the central lobby."
Eve smiled politely and began rolling up the sheet. "Just give me a second," she requested.
Escaping the crowd proved disappointingly easy. Within a minute, Eve was in a empty corridor, moving up her speed to a brisk jog. She took out her comms device and held it to her ear as she picked up the pace. "I need a roof extraction," she said. "North end of the building."
Eve reached the double doors that opened into a stairwell. Halfway up the case leading to the roof, she heard voices and at least two guards further up spotted her. Cursing, Eve retreated and headed for the staircase leading down, exiting into an identical corridor.
"Correction," she said into the comm. "Extraction on the south end."
Eve threw off her wig, letting her dirty blonde locks flow free. She was full out running now, made harder by the heels. As she reached the corner, several guards exited the stairwell she had just abandoned, their numbers having swelled. They ordered a surrender before two let rip a hail of bullets. Eve skidded the corner, the bullets burrowing into the wall behind her. She threw open the doors and leaped up the staircase leading to the roof. She looked through the window onto the helipad, desolate: empty. She reached for the doorknob and tugged at it: locked.
"The chopper's coming to you," someone said in her ear.
"Hurry," she ordered. "I have the name, but they're closing in."
Eve could hear their footsteps nearing just as a chopper floated into view.
*
Roger woke up in a strange metal chair in a strange room he didn't remember but seemed oddly familiar. Ramirez and the technician man with the funny shirts, were both looking at him.
"Good morning," Roger said.
"Welcome back, Roger," the man replied.
"Katherine is looking forward to seeing you," Ramirez told him.
"May we go now?" Roger asked, trying to mask his eagerness.
"Of course."
Roger stood and Ramirez led the way to the elevator. As they neared, the technician's Asian assistant - her name escaped him - walked in.
"Hey hey hey!" he said upon seeing her. The girl jumped, not seeing him behind one of his machines. "Have you been futzing around with the equipment?" he asked. "It's been running S-L-O-W."
"Um, I just got here?" she pointed out. "It's probably all the wires you crossed to get things working again."
The man opened his mouth to say something else, but the girl held up a juice box in early reply: clearly his question had been answered. She threw it down on the nearest computer and stormed into his office. He sighed and went back to his machine. "Be nice," Roger advised. "I think she likes you."
"Your lady awaits," Ramirez said, ignoring the man's flustered look.
*
"Katherine?"
Adelle heard him before she saw him. She turned to see him in the doorway leading onto the balcony, dressed to the nines. She had become so used to being called Katherine by Roger, answering to it was instinct. She looked at his face for a moment before kissing him. It was Victor's face, but she only saw Roger's. Suddenly, the stress of work and the blistering heat of the nearby sun evaporated away, and it was just them, interlocked, alone.
Of course, it only lasted a few seconds before Adelle's phone ruined it.
They parted and both stared at the phone, perched on the balcony overlooking the setting sun, ringing maniacally. Roger got their first. "Is this your work?" he asked. Adelle made a swipe for it, but Roger dodged. "'Topher'," he said, reading the contact. "Is that a name?"
"They think I'm at headquarters," Adelle admitted. "It could be very urgent, or it could be Topher calling to tell me that his sweater's itchy."
"Well, I could give it back or..." Roger held the phone high over the balcony, hovering over the cliff below. "I could drop it and let the sharks talk to their own. It's up to you."
Adele pondered it for a second. "Well, it is a very slippery phone. I have complained about that a lot."
"Oh, really? I hadn't--" Roger suddenly had a faux muscle spasm and the phone slipped from his grasp, cascading into numerous pieces as it bounced off the cliff face and out of sight. Adelle laughed the whole time. "That was probably a very bad thing that just happened," she admitted when it was over.
Roger shrugged. "Accidents. What can be done?" He draped an arm over her shoulder. "You're trying so hard to relax. Which makes me wonder why you're trying so hard to relax."
Adelle sighed and turned to lean against the balcony. "Am I that transparent?"
"No, but I have X-ray eyes."
Adelle smiled wearily. "It's been very rocky at work."
Roger nodded. "The Dollhouse. It's hard for me to even wrap my mind around it. Bizarre."
Adelle stared at her feet. "I used to head a division that grew replacement organs out of stem cells. I could tell people what I did for a living."
"And now? You've told me what you do.
Isn't it just helping lonely people? "
Adelee nodded. "Pathetic, self-deluding souls," she said, partly at herself.
"Now, Katherine: shall we take this elsewhere?"
*
Adelle lay back down on the bed. Roger kissed her for the millionth time, but she didn't care: she could never have too many. "You are perfection," he said. "If I could make a woman, I'd make you."
Roger collapsed down next to her. Adelle stared at the ceiling. "Really?" she asked.
"Yes. In fact, if I were one of your clients, I would order one of you with a spare for when you're in the shop."
Adelle laughed hollowly, but Roger clearly sensed something. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her. "What, Katherine? You're not seriously considering what I said?"
Adelle laughed for real this time. "No! I'm not suggesting you become a client." Her face fell serious in thought. "I think the universe might collapse under that one."
"Good. Because I don't want an ersatz you. I want the real you."
Adelle touched his face lightly. "And I want the real you. It's ironic. Sometimes I think you're the most real person I've ever met."
"That's not irony," Roger said. "No one gets that right."
"Everyone has their first date," Adelle said. "And the object is to hide your flaws. And then you're in a relationship, and it's all about hiding your disappointment. Then once you're married, it's about hiding your sins."
"Katherine: Mistress of the dark observation," Roger joked.
"But with you, there's no reason to hide anything real."
Roger considered her for a moment. "Let's run away together," he said flatly. "Cash in everything we own, and buy a bar on the beach in Rarotonga."
Adelle laughed and snuggled up close to him. "And buy extra phones just to drop them in the water. And we'd never own clocks or computers or sexy businesswoman shoes."
"I'm keeping my sexy businesswoman shoes," Roger insisted.
"And there'd be no clocks in the bar," Adelle continued. "Only cool local beers, and dogs that wander in from playing on the beach."
"It could be the weekend all the time."
They shared a smile. And then, Adelle felt a pang in her stomach. She wrapped a sheet around herself and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Just forget it," she said bitterly. "It can't happen."
"Why not?" Roger protested, approaching her from behind. "What's wrong? Something about you?" He touched her shoulder lightly. "Something about me?"
Adelle turned a bit to look him in the eye. "You aren't..." she began.
"I'm not... who you need?"
"Oh, no," Adelle insisted. "You're exactly who I need. We just can't have that. You have to trust me..."
They fell back onto the bed together, Adelle kissing him almost desperately, and then they just lay there together.
"I do," Roger said. "I trust you completely."
Roger woke up the next morning to an empty room. Only a few moments later, Adelle came in, fully dressed. "Darling, why are you dressed?" he asked. "Did you hear someone in the house? "
Adelle sat on the bed. She reached longingly for his hand and he scooted up to her, holding her assuringly. "What happened?" he asked again.
Adelle just sat silently for a moment. Then, she began to cry. Roger held her, but she almost didn't want him to, because she couldn't have it. Not any of it, not the freedom, not the running away, not even Roger, because he wasn't even Roger, he was Victor, and Victor wasn't even a person.
She wasn't sure how long she cried, but he was there the whole time. She held his hand to her face, heart burning, wishing desperately for him to be real.
*
Karima entered Adelle's office, folder in hand, Topher at her side. Dominic was sitting in Adelle's chair, watching the security feed. He clicked it off and stood up at her entrance.
"I need to interrogate all the people on this list now," Karima told him, showing him the folder.
"Who the hell are you?" Dominic ordered.
"I made her a spy hunter," Topher said. "To, you know, hunt the spy."
Dominic folded his arms. "It's being handled as we speak by Sierra."
"I know," Topher replied. "But Echo came in and she thought - I thought - she could help."
"If you let me speak to the people on this list, I'll uncover the spy before your field agent returns," Karima assured him.
Dominic sighed. "What are her parameters?" he asked Topher.
"She reads body language, knows advanced interrogation techniques and she's rockin' a little Sherlock Holmes," Topher said, smiling giddily.
Dominic looked pensive. Then, he held out his hand. "Give me the list."
Karima handed him the folder. "I wanna start with him," she added coolly, indicating Topher.
Topher's eyes widened. He gave an awkward laugh. "Um, I'm not the spy. I discovered the spy. Remember? The spy was operating under my nose."
"Which means you're either dangerously incompetent or you're trying to throw us off your trail," Karima countered.
Dominic smiled. "I'm sorry I ever doubted your programming skills."
*
The interviews went by the books, and Karima learned a lot. First was Topher. "Why are you at the Dollhouse?" she asked.
Topher shrugged. "Kind of a no-brainer. I'm in neuroplastic heaven. I'm doing work my grad school professors haven't even dreamed of yet." Karima scribbled down 'arrogant' in her notepad. "I mean," Topher continued, "I don't wanna brag - okay, I wanna brag - I'm kind of a genius." Karima scribbled down 'cocky'. Topher leaned forward, suddenly self-conscious. "Do you really think I'm incompetent, or are you just saying that to appease big bad Laurence?"
"So it matters what other people think about you?" Karima asked.
Topher gave an awkward laugh. Karima wrote down 'nihilist'.
When his assistant Ivy was quizzed, she gave a much more interesting answer. "Yeah. I spent eight years studying the intricacies of the human brain and what do I get to do when I graduate? Get snacks for Topher? Or get yelled at when I try to do something more? My talents go beyond asking whether he wants chocolate chip or oatmeal - which I do very well, thank you - but I probably know enough about the imprint equipment to rip it down and reassemble it without Topher ever knowing." Ivy frowned, as if just realising what she had said. "Well, that didn't sound good, did it?"
"I'm not trying to incriminate you," Karima assured her. "I'm just trying to nail down your feelings about the Dollhouse."
"We're pimps and killers," one Boyd Langton admitted when asked the same. "But in a philanthropic way. Can I go now?"
Karima was a little mysitifed. "I don't know why I trust you... but I do..."
Boyd shrugged. "I must have one of those faces."
"I'm looking at the security logs since the Alpha incident," Karima told Doctor Claire Saunders. "When was the last time you left the Dollhouse?"
"I feel like I can better serve the Actives if I'm here," Doctor Saunders replied timidly.
Karima leant back in Adelle's chair. "Twenty-four seven?"
"Engagements run around the clock.
You never know when there's gonna be an emergency."
"I don't doubt your intentions," Karima agreed. "But such intense focus on your work can leave other parts of your life empty and open to exploitation. Do you have friends outside the Dollhouse?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. Saunders' lip quivered, searching for an answer that wouldn't embarrass her, when Dominic's phone rang from the corner of Adelle's office. He said a few words before he hung up. "You lose," he said. "Sierra's been safely extracted, barely, and she has the mole's identity."
Dominic and Doctor Saunders both left, but Dominic returned to Adelle's office only minutes later. Karima watched from the desk as Dominic exited the elevator with Topher behind him and a squirming Ivy held firmly in his grasp.
"No, wait, wait, no!" Ivy pleaded. "You don't understand, I didn't do anything! Why would I spy on the Doll--"
Dominic threw her in a heap onto Adelle's sofa. "I don't care why!" he spat. "We'll get that from you when DeWitt has me torture you. And you'll tell us everything. And then DeWitt will send you to the Attic. Do you know what happens in the Attic?"
Dominic indicated for Topher to speak. "It's a mental suck," Topher said flatly, still in shock. "You know that feeling you get when a name's on the tip of your tongue, but you can't say it? It's like that, but with every thought you never have."
"I am not the spy," Ivy insisted. "You believe me, right?" she asked Topher. He just stood silently, not looking at her.
"You take her to the holding room--"
"How long?"
Everyone turned to look at Karima. She was just sitting, reading Ivy's NSA file.
"Until DeWitt gets back?" Dominic asked, confused.
Karima dropped the file and turned in the chair to look at him. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"
"Excuse me?"
Karima leant forward and looked Dominic straight in the eye. "You work for the NSA."
Dominic looked like he wanted to throttle her. "You have a file that says she's the one," he pointed out.
"Uh-huh?"
Dominic scoffed. "What, is her 'body language' telling you she's innocent?" he asked mockingly.
"No, her language language is telling you she's innocent," Ivy added acidly.
"Your body language is telling me something," Karima told Dominic.
"Oh yeah?"
Topher and Ivy stared attentively at Karima, who folded her arms. "When you got word that Sierra had been extracted with the spy's identity," Karima began, "Everyone in this room got tense. 'Who? Who betrayed us? Who's the spy?' But you: you got loose. Your body breathed a big, subconscious sigh of relief. Why? Because you already knew that file would implicate Ivy."
"You expect anyone to buy this pseudo-science?" Dominic sneered.
"They don't have to. There was a phone call made to the NSA after the lockdown. You warned the NSA Sierra was coming so that they could plant this file for her to find. You wanted us to blame Ivy so that you could continue to operate."
"I couldn't have called," Dominic argued. "The phones were shut off."
"In the Dollhouse. Not in this office."
"I think it's time for her treatment," he told Topher.
Karima shrugged. "Proof is in the logs."
"And anyone could have snuck in here."
Karima looked at him for a few seconds. "You're right," she said, getting to her feet. "That's why I've let this conversation continue as long as it has. I needed one more sign to confirm my suspicion."
"And what sign would that be?" Dominic asked.
Karima's eyes narrowed. "Twenty seconds ago, you unsnapped your holster."
A split second later, Dominic's gun was out and firing rounds. Karima propelled herself back, rolling over the desk and landing on the hardwood floor on the other side, as a hail of bullets shattered the glass window behind her. Topher and Ivy ducked for cover behind the couch as Dominic circled around to the right, firing behind the desk, but Karima ducked and rolled and emerged the other side. She hastily got to her feet amidst the glass shards as Dominic approached, firing a round that narrowly missed Karima's head that shattered the TV screen behind her. Before he could pull the trigger again, Karima blade kicked the desk chair his way, throwing him off guard, but it was out of his way in a second. Dominic charged, but Karima ducked low and swept his legs out from under him. His gun clattered down beside him, and Karima kicked it away as Dominic struggled to his own feet.
"This is the Dollhouse," she said, getting into a fighting stance. "You know how far they reach. There's no way you're getting away with this."
Dominic lunged, getting his arms under her, and Karima wrapped her legs around him to absorb some of the impact as he rammed her against the wall. He pinned her up, eyes rabid. "You haven't figured it out?" he growled, teeth bared. "Use your deductive skills. You're a Doll!" He pulled her back and slammed her again, Karima seeing stars. "A broken Doll who's gone off mission before. "Now, when DeWitt asks me to explain myself--"
"You'll tell her I went off mission?" Karima panted.
Dominic smiled. "And I had no choice but to kill you."
He threw her down on the shattered glass, and Karima's head spun. Dominic reached for her again, but she felt something against her fingertips: a particularly large glass shard. She grabbed it and swiped towards him, cutting across his upper arm. Dominic yelped and backed off. Karima scrambled back up, backing away. Dominic ripped the torn fabric from his arm.
"And Topher and Ivy?" Karima asked.
"Collateral damage," Dominic said, wrapping the fabric around his hand before bending down and snatching a shard himself, never taking his eyes off her. "I'd say I'm covered."
He darted forward, swiping madly, but Karima dodged, again, again. On the last, she ducked, and Dominic missed his target and whirled around. As he turned back to face her, Karima grabbed the glass-bearing arm, grabbing his neck with her other hand, and locked his arm across her collarbone. Dominic used his free hand to punch her in the gut, sending her stumbling, but she regained herself soon and sent a hooking punch his way. Dominic blocked and punched her in the cheek, whipping her head back, then finished with a spin kick that sent Karima into a nearby table. The wood broke beneath her weight and she fell to the floor in a storm of splinters.
"You're dangerous," Dominic sneered, approaching her. "You should have been in the ground a long time ago."
Karima suddenly felt a sharp pain in her head. Dominic, only in the past, hitting her with the butt of a rifle.
"You tried to kill me before..." she realised. She yelled as Dominic grabbed her by the hair and threw her away, Karima sliding into the shattered window glass once again. "You're another Alpha waiting to happen."
As he neared, Karima grabbed another sizeable chunk of glass, rushed to her feet and swiped widely. Dominic grabbed the swinging arm easily and threw it back the way it came, but Karima used it to her advantage: she turned her hip and grabbed his shoulder with the other hand, preparing a punch to the gut with the glass hand, but Dominic turned and twirled from her grasp. Karima drew her arm back after him and Dominic yelled as the glass sliced across his chest. He stumbled back against Adelle's desk, and Karima sent a kick, full force, into his stomach, sending him crashing into the shattered window frame. Karima grabbed his tie and held him half out the window, far above the street below.
"I'm not broken."
*
Adelle sent the address. Nobody knew why she was in a beach house, but nobody asked nor cared. Karima planted Dominic, hands bound, into a wooden chair. She retreated to the corner as Adelle stared down at him, arms folded.
"I trusted you with a gift, Mr.
Dominic," Adelle said flatly.
"The Dollhouse is not a gift," Dominic growled.
"I think the countless people we've helped would disagree with you," Adelle replied.
"And the countless people you've hurt?" Dominic retorted.
"Name one."
"Her," Dominic said, cocking his head at Karima.
"Funny, coming from the man who tried to kill her. Twice." She approached him slowly. "Why did you want to bring down the Dollhouse? What can the NSA do with it that we can't?"
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't sent to bring you down. I was sent to make sure you didn't bring yourself down. If it weren't for me, Paul Ballard would have found you. I never lied to you about my methods or my priorities."
"You lied about your intentions," Adelle pointed out. She turned her back on him and began walking to where she was standing.
"You know what the world will be like when Rossum lets the Dollhouse slip from its grasp?" Dominic said. "The technology needs to be reigned in and controlled!"
Adelle stopped walking and turned on her heel to glare at him. "By a clandestine organization with little government oversight?!"
Dominic shook his head slightly. "It's embarrassing how naive you are.
You believe in the Dollhouse and its mission? Just like you believed in me.
And look how that played out. You were wrong."
Adelle glanced at Karima. "Get what you can of him about the NSA, and have Topher prep him for the Attic."
Karima dragged him to his feet, but Dominic struggled to get closer to Adelle, sneering. "That's it, 'Miss DeWitt'? You're signing my death warrant like it was a business transaction?!"
"It is," Adelle said simply.
"The Agency will figure it out and they'll come looking for me."
Adelle neared, so that she was mere inches from his face. "And when they do you'll tell them everything's fine, and then we'll put you back in your box." Dominic's face faltered. "What?" Adelle said mockingly. "Did you think I'd show you mercy? Or rage? Three years by my side. I think you know me better than that."
Dominic smiled. "You are a piece of work."
Adelle stared off into space. "So they tell me. Goodbye."
And Adelle left, not sparing him a second glance.
*
It was a short ride back to the Dollhouse. Karima sat in the back of the van. Dominic lay on the floor, his head against the back doors. Karima noticed he was smiling.
"What's in store for you, you don't have much to smile about."
"After you beat me to a pulp, they're gonna erase me," Dominic said. "But first, they're gonna erase you."
"I can take care of myself," Karima said coolly.
Dominic's smile widened. "I know. That's why I'm smiling. 'Cause one day, you'll be erasing them. And even after all this, they still won't see it coming." His smile lessened. "Sooner or later, everybody gets theirs."
Karima wasn't sure what he was talking about. And yet on some level, she had the faintest idea.
*
Adelle watched as Laurence Dominic was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the Imprint Room by several armed guards, his screaming quelled by the device in his mouth to stop him swallowing his tongue. He was thrown into the chair as Topher and Ivy manoeuvred around him, sticking wires in everywhere. Machines crackled and blue lights strobed. Adelle stood calmly by the window, Boyd silent at her side. As Topher moved out of the way to another machine, Adelle saw Dominic's hand snatching at one of the men's holsters, grabbing a pistol and trying desperately to point it at his head.
"Stop him!" Adelle yelled. "Don't let him!"
The men tried desperately to wrestle it from his grasp, but could only redirect it before Dominic pulled the trigger. Adelle gasped as the bullet tore through her hip, her blood splattering against the window. Boyd rushed to inspect the wound, but she slapped him away. "It's a graze," she snapped: sure enough, there was only a deep red scratch just above her hip bone. "Get on with it," she ordered at the others.
"Neuromods set for chemical saturation," Topher said.
Ivy inspected the last wire stuck to Dominic's forehead. "Neuromuscular debilitators in place."
"LTP de-potentiated," Topher replied as the chair reclined. "Trans mag primed." He looked at Adelle. "We're ready."
Dominic stared at Adelle. She stared at him.
"Do it."
Topher pulled the switch, and Dominic's screams got even louder, a deafening, scraggly noise, as blue light pulsed rapidly, as machines whirred, as Dominic's body arced in the chair. Then, within a few seconds, his body relaxed. The blinding blue dissipated. The room fell silent. Dominic was quiet, his eyes closed.
Adelle immediately pulled open the door and exited onto the balcony, clutching her side, feeling sick. She leant against the railing and looked into the Dollhouse below. Echo and Sierra were staring at her. A few moments later, Topher emerged, Imprint Wedge in hand. "The, uh, unabridged Laurence Dominic," he said solemnly.
"Lose it in the archives," Adelle said. "His body is on the way to the Attic."
Topher glanced at her blood-stained blouse. "Uh, bleeding. Blood. Coagulating. You should see Dr. Saunders..."
Adelle ignored him. "How did I not see this coming?"
"No one did," Topher said sympathetically.
"Yes, you saw enough to imprint Echo as an investigator."
"Yeah, about that..." Topher glanced around, moved in closer. "Unless you're about to give me a better parking space, I can't take all the credit for that."
"Ivy?"
Topher shook his head. "Echo." Adelle's eyes widened. "She came to me and asked me to imprint her."
"Dominic had her in his crosshairs for months," Adelle realised. "She took out her biggest threat."
"She's still evolving. Saunders's wish fulfillment exercise didn't fulfill anything."
Adelle nodded, glancing down at Echo. "She's protecting herself."
"Do you want me to wipe her again?"
Adelle shook her head. "No. She just saved the Dollhouse. Keep an eye on her. Echo might be useful to us in ways we haven't yet realized." Adelle started to walk away before something occurred to her. "Oh, I almost forgot, shelve the Roger imprint. Miss Lonelyhearts phoned and said she no longer requires his services."
Topher giggled. "Some hunky octogenarian sweep her off her walker?"
"Nothing so dramatic. She finally realized the indiscretion was unwise." Adelle left Topher. And, to an extent, Dominic, in his hand.
*
"This would have been easier if you had taken an anesthetic," Doctor Saunders said as she finished sewing up Adelle's side.
"It's nothing," Adelle said, gritting her teeth.
"No, just a gunshot wound," Saunders replied, sticking a bandage over the wound. Adelle stood and pulled on her blouse. "I know you were close to Mr.
Dominic..."
"He was an employee with whom I worked closely. There's a difference."
"It's okay to feel something," Saunders said.
"That would imply I'd lost something," Adelle said flatly, walking for the door.
"Didn't you?"
Adelle paused. She could see Victor walking by on the main floor.
"Nothing I can't live without."
Boyd popped his head in the other door. "Ms. DeWitt? I ran a full security sweep," he said, handing her a file.
They walk out together through the massage area, Adelle flicking through the file. "New background checks on all employees are in the works, but right now it looks like this didn't go any further than Dominic."
"Congratulations, Mr. Langton."
Boyd looked puzzled. "For what?"
"For becoming our new Head of Security."
Boyd shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer to stay with Echo.
I need to take care of her."
"Apparently, you don't. It seems she's the one taking care of us."
*
"Echo," Topher said, sticking the final suction cup to her collarbone. "I'd like you to meet your new handler. His name is Travis." He indicated the young Asian man in a nice suit at his side. "Go ahead."
Travis took her hand and read from the paper in his other hand. "Everything's gonna be all right."
"Now that you're here," Echo said slowly, looking into his eyes.
"Do you trust me?
Echo glanced behind Travis. Boyd was standing in the doorway, looking at her.
"Do you trust me?" Travis asked again.
"With my life," Echo said.
But Echo wasn't talking to Travis.