"Devon, Alone PART II - Gathering the Fragments".
***WARNING*** "Devon, Alone Part II" has an M rating. Part II
contains many adult themes and situations (although this is not
as dark in nature as pt I).
NOTES: "Devon, Alone II - Gathering the Fragments" is part two
of a five part series. Each part should be complete in itself, but
forms a greater story when read sequentially.
If you are missing pt I, feel free to ask me for it.
Many thanks goes to Sue Sadler for all her help and patience in
proofreading/commenting this story, and for being a general
sounding board for this (complicated!) saga.
Thank-you to Alicia for permission to post this, and thanks also to
everyone who wrote to me about part I. Your comments and ideas
were wonderful, and special mentions go to Cat and Mary Brick.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained within belong
to Universal/Amblin Entertainment. No copyright infringement is
intended.
=================================================
DEVON, ALONE II - Gathering the Fragments.
by Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com)
December 1996
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I sit, alone, in my small room. The walls are white and
sanitised, and are supposed to have a calming effect on me. Not
that I can be calm, not when *they* are out there, all discussing
my fate. For all the advances humanity has made over the last two
centuries, the justice system still rots in a stagnant pond of no
progress.
After all this time, I am still alone. Even if I have my
revenge on Blalock, it is still not enough. Nothing will ever fill
the void in my soul left by discovering that my friends, my life,
does not exist, and never did. Or not in the form I recognise.
Morgan Martin is out there now, one of the Council witnesses
who may decide the outcome of this trial. I wish desperately that
I could reach him, for deep inside, there must be some small iota
of the man I grew to know and trust as my friend. Yale and Alonzo
Solace, two others who were mind-copied as part of the Program,
were true to life and as I knew them. They grew as the VR
simulation of my Eden Project continued and I could not tell them
apart from their living counterparts. Is that because I assumed
they were human? Whatever the case, I know I loved them, and
everyone else as well. I just wish that things had been different,
and that Blalock had never done what he did...
Blalock. I shudder as I think of him, and what he tried to do
to me. I barely escaped from him and his predatory advances, I can
feel his repulsive hands all over my body once again...No! Don't
think of that, focus instead on the later moments, when I saw in
his eyes that he fully intended to kill me. He is a monster.
And that is what they are trying to make of me. I do not
remember losing control, and am a little afraid of myself. They
said they found me with the weapon in my hands, firing over and
over as if I would never stop. They say I attacked him,
unprovoked. Why else did I go to his quarters with a firearm
hidden in my shoe?
For protection. I never intended for the situation to
escalate as it did. All I wanted was one little code, a code I may
never get to use now, for I have been locked away since that night.
The door suddenly whooshes open, and a head pokes itself in.
"Ms Adair? You may come back to the courtroom."
Shakily, I stand, knowing I may be in for another harrowing
interrogation. I feel a wave of pain flash through my temples and
a brief moment of dizziness as I prepare to go out. And all the
while, *he* will be sitting across from me, a mocking smile on his
lips.
I must focus. *He* is the one at fault, not me. I did
nothing but try to survive in a world of lies, seeking not only the
truth but something to hold on to. I have nothing. Wealth, yes,
power, perhaps, but of friendship, there is none. No one who cares
for me, except perhaps Yale, but he is too busy to make time.
Vague memories are returning of the last time we spoke before I
succumbed to the Program, and terrible accusations ring in my ears.
If only I'd realised the friend I was losing...
My 'parents' are stationed somewhere near Jupiter, and don't
care what trouble their daughter is in. They, by my stepmother's
influence, cut themselves off years ago when they discovered I was
pregnant. And Uly is dead.
I stand up, and tears threaten to spill as I remember my
beloved son, for whom I worked so hard until the dream crashed
around my head. He died, and they took me away, and abused my
heart and soul until it all comes down to this moment. I stand
alone.
***
Devon faced the courtroom. She feared she would be in for
another long session of repeating her story as the opposition tried
to pick holes in her words. But she would not back down. Not even
with Blalock smiling sadistically at her across the floor. Most of
his injuries had healed, although it would take a few more days for
the shattered bones in his legs to completely realign. A white
bandage was swathed around his head, but Devon suspected that was
more for show than anything else. Her own bruises and wounds were
healing rapidly, however her ribcage was still extremely tender.
The trial had begun two days ago, and the presiding judge was
still not sure what type of trial it was. Mr Blalock charged Ms
Adair with attempted murder; stating that the intervention of
Station Security was the only reason he survived. Ms Adair
countered that Mr Blalock had tried to rape her, and then kill her
when she would not submit.
The whole situation was extremely messy, especially
considering the two antagonists were members of rich and powerful
families. Blalock was well respected throughout the Council, as he
seemed to epitomise their beliefs and standards.
Devon Adair, however, was the unknown quantity. She was
believed to be mentally unstable after her recent year long
experience in VR as part of a test program, one that had gone
drastically wrong for her, although the programmers and Blalock in
particular seemed to think that was all Devon's fault.
And it was Devon whom they had found with the weapon in her
hand as she fired at Blalock repeatedly. Why hadn't she killed
him? She's certainly managed to decimate his legs, and blow
smoking holes around the rest of his body. It was the fact that
she let him live that offered Devon her greatest chance.
Blalock stood up. Perhaps the only redeeming feature of the
courts over those of the late twentieth century was the absence of
lawyers. Each defendant had to represent his or her self.
"Your Honour," he began, directing his words to the judge, "I
would like to bring something else to your attention. Ms Adair has
an extremely unstable past in terms of relationships with men. In
particular, I am referring to the charges she laid against the
father of her son ten years ago. If you study the records, you
will find that history has somewhat repeated itself."
Devon almost gasped aloud. How dare he bring that up,
something she had buried years ago? It was true that she
occasionally had nightmares, but those had abated soon after
crashing on planet G889. she mentally
reminded herself.
"That has no relevance whatsoever," Devon almost snapped,
remembering at the last moment to conceal her emotions.
"Ah, but look at the facts," Blalock countered. "Since your child
was born, you've had no relationships with men at all. Most of
your employees are female, and I feel you are somewhat prejudiced
against the male gender."
"That's a lie!" Devon suddenly burst out, feeling close to
tears yet again. How many more times would Blalock make terrible
insinuations about her past? She had plenty of male friends, sure,
no one special (except, but no, he was part of the Program...) but
she didn't hate men! Why couldn't Blalock just leave her alone?
"Order!" commanded the judge. "I am tired of the two of you
bickering like children. I expected more from the stations' finest
families." She glared at Blalock, and then Devon.
"Mr Blalock, this is a trial of the present, so no further
mention is to be made of events older than two years. And Ms
Adair, please try to control your emotions."
Chalk another one up for Blalock. Devon wished she could make
them see what a monster he really was - nothing like the victim he
pretended to be. *She* was the victim, she deserved a chance...
Devon suddenly realised that the judge was speaking again,
this time for a rather long duration.
"... refuse to listen to petitions from either side any longer. I
am unable to determine whom exactly is at fault." The judge
paused, and allowed her words to echo throughout the courtroom.
High-ranking Council members such as Blalock had long ago appealed
to have surveillance devices removed from their personal quarters
and were naturally granted their request. Unfortunately, this led
to a severe lack of evidence in this case. "Therefore the
following sentences will be carried out."
Swallowing hard, Devon turned to face the judge and learn of
her doom. "Ms Devon Adair, this court finds you guilty of violence
due to mental instability. You will be confined to your quarters
for a period of one month, during which psychiatric surveillance
and analysis will occur and you will speak with a counsellor each
day.
"When the time period is up," continued the judge, "an
assessment will be made of your condition to determine if it is
safe to let you freely roam the Stations."
Outrage surged through Devon's mind, closely followed by
shock. She wasn't insane! It was Blalock, that weasel over there,
if only she could get her hands around his neck one more time...
an inner voice said. Slowly,
Devon sank down into her chair and listened for Blalock's sentence.
"Mr Dison Blalock, you are guilty of taking advantage of a
vulnerable person, in addition to negligence in your duties as Head
of the Program. You will be demoted one level and are not
permitted to have any contact whatsoever with Ms Adair." The judge
swung to face Devon.
"The latter applies to you as well, Ms Adair," she said. "No
contact." Turning back to Blalock, who's face was becoming an
interesting shade of purple, the judge continued, "Due to the
nature of the crime scene, I have no choice but to drop the rape
and murder charges. But be warned, a second occurrence of such
events will lead to a direct review of these proceedings.
Dismissed!"
The judge stood, and gravely exited the courtroom. Devon was
shaking as she felt two people take her arms and lead her out. She
felt Blalock's venomous glare on her back the whole time.
***
A deep depression sunk over Devon Adair. Confined and alone,
she was a victim of a system she could never hope to fight. Not
when they chose to ignore her even when she told the truth. The
all-powerful Council was just that, and they had complete control.
Nothing Devon did by herself would make any difference.
Now, she could not drift alone through the corridors.
Instead, Devon was condemned to track paths in five small rooms,
although she spent most of her hours sitting by her single real
window, and watched the stars. Comets lazily drifted by the portal
every so often, or perhaps they were asteroid fragments on a long,
fatal journey into the sun. More likely, though, was the
possibility that these shining objects were pieces of space junk
cast into the void by human hands.
When the counsellor called on her, Devon was careful to give
the right answers to the endless questions she was asked. Yes, she
felt fine. (Devon saw no reason to mention the infrequent
headaches, as it would only extend her sentence.) No, she did not
feel hostile toward Blalock anymore. No, she was not depressed.
No, she did not want to slit her wrists and commit suicide. (And
if she did, she wouldn't tell him anyway.)
Not all of the answers were true but even when Devon saw
little point in life, she did not allow her sense of pride and
integrity to be diminished. She *would* prove that she was sane
and *would* have her basic rights returned to her after the month
was up. She would show them all that she, Devon Adair, was a
survivor.
Yet during the depths of the night, faces of friends lost
constantly haunted her. A loneliness greater than anything Devon
had ever experienced began to consume her soul. She ached inside
for the physical touch of someone, to hold someone in her arms or
be held. Or even the simple touch of friendship, from any person
she had ever known. Yet Uly was gone, Yale had grown away from her
and she was completely isolated.
To be held, to be comforted, to feel loved by one special
person was what Devon dreamed of. *Him*, the only possibility left
for her, but she didn't even know if he existed. She did not dare
use Blalock's code while her quarters were so closely monitored; a
gross invasion of privacy in Devon's opinion.
And she was afraid of what she might find, or, more
accurately, what she wouldn't. She was hoping against hope that
more of the Eden Advance team truly existed, for even if they
didn't know her yet, Devon was positive that she could gain their
friendship and trust. It had happened once before already.
The counsellor's "visits" grew less frequent as the days
passed, as he was confident that his patient was improving. He
could not see into the dark recess of her mind, for the physical
deception Devon offered was complete.
Finally, the month was up and Devon was free again. Still,
she did not leave her quarters. She was afraid to face reality
ever again. Not until she knew there was hope...
Her voice shaking, Devon activated her computer terminal.
Everything she had left came down to these next few moments, when
she discovered if the lies would hold out or come crashing down
around her. She hoped for the latter.
With Blalock's demotion, she knew that he no longer had the
computer control that once belonged to him. Devon hoped that meant
he couldn't change the lockout codes to her computer anymore.
Whatever protection he had initiated months ago should still be in
place, with the same release code.
"Alpha-kappa-139," she said. Her heart was pounding as she
waited to see if it had been worth the trauma to get this code.
Time seemed to pause, until finally...
"Access granted. Full station records available."
Devon gave a huge sigh of relief. The dangerous part was
over, and now all she had to do was expose the truth. Firstly, she
accessed records on Morgan Martin. This Morgan was only Level 3,
unmarried, no commendations to speak of; just another cog in the
great circuitry of the Council. Briefly, Devon considered calling
him but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He could wait until
later.
Slowly, Devon began to make her way through the entire Eden
Advance team. She already knew that Yale and Alonzo existed, but
of the others... Devon had a mental list of those she would trace,
and had been reviewing it for days. Now it was time to use it.
Her heart leapt when the computer found a match for one "Dr
Julia Heller". Nervously, Devon pulled up the information. Was
her friend alive?
Her hopes were cruelly dashed when the material revealed that
the only Julia listed was a personal holographic character
belonging to one Dison Blalock. Devon erased the file and closed
her eyes to prevent tears of frustration and sadness trickling down
her cheeks. Another friend lost forever.
Now Devon knew not to get excited when a name was found in the
immense database that spanned not only the Stations, Earth and
Mars, but the sleeper ships traversing nearby star systems as well.
However, she was surprised to find no matches at all for "Bess
Amelia Klempt". She was another person created purely for the
Program and Devon's trial, for the only listing was in the
Program's archives as Bess Martin. Who never lived.
To Devon's immense astonishment, she found that most of Eden
Advance's original crew members were alive and well, labouring as
immigrant workers (or drones as they were commonly called) in
the poor areas of the stations and the Quadrant. It appeared they
had been compensated quite well to have their minds copied, and
paying off their grandparents' debts was the driving factor behind
these people's lives.
Eben Synge lived, and Devon felt an intense desire to fly
out to Mercury where Eben was currently stationed and see the quiet
woman. She was alive and for that Devon was happier than she had
been for months, ever since she woke from the Program.
Finally, Devon came to the last name on her list, the one she
had been dreading. For if *he* wasn't real, then nothing would be
worth it, and she may as well accept the fact now that she was
doomed to never find true love. John Danziger was the only one for
her. The only man she could ever trust with her heart after the
terrible events of the past. The only one forever.
Devon closed her eyes, and uttered a silent prayer.
she told herself, taking deep breaths as her whole body quivered
with nervousness. She was ready. "John
Danziger."
An eternity passed before her. Each second dragged for a
millennium as the computer sifted through the thousands of personal
records searching for one name that meant more to Devon Adair than
anything else.
"Two entries found." The first, with a reference to The
Program, but the second, oh, the second...
"Yes!" she shrieked in a moment of pure joy. Then Devon lay her
head in her arms, and cried tears of happiness. He lived.
***
The hour was late, but the customers of "Ty's Tavern" never
seemed to notice the time. Down here, in the depths of the
Stations where poverty was common, the sparkling lights and
pulsating music were the only things to keep the demons away. The
air of happiness provided a realistic illusion for most of the
drones, for if they did not have each other and the pretences that
went with this life, they were nothing.
It was into this private sanctuary of comrades that the lone
woman stepped. She held herself with a regal air, and her entrance
caught the attention of every patron that night, male or female.
She seemed to hesitate at the door, her eyes searching the room in
a purposeful manner. Then she boldly stepped forward.
She approached the bar, apparently oblivious to the
appreciative glances and whistles that followed her, and the
subsequent admonishing from present wives or girlfriends. However,
the reaction was to be expected. The woman wore a simple yet
elegant outfit, the likes of it unseen in these areas of the
Stations. She was obviously very wealthy and that meant powerful.
As a result, the barkeep took one look at her and offered a
charming smile.
"What can I getcha this evening, Madam?"
She leaned forward, placing her hands on the worn bench.
"I'm looking for someone," she replied.
"Aren't we all," quipped a man on her left. She ignored him.
"I've heard that a man called John Danziger frequents this
establishment?"
decided the barkeep, He jumped, suddenly realising
that she was waiting for a reply. Her fingernails drummed a
recurring pattern on the benchtop.
"Uh, sorry, Madam, what was that name again?"
"John Danziger." She spoke clearly, enunciating every syllable
of the name.
The barkeep was confused. And a little worried. He *knew* John
Danziger alright, knew more than he should. Danziger was involved
in dangerous things, and if Station security was after Danziger, it
was best that he, an innocent bystander, wasn't involved at all.
"I can't help you," replied the barkeep, shaking his head and
turning away. The woman stared at his back in disbelief,
subsequently giving an exasperated sigh. She turned to walk away,
and felt a gentle hand on her arm. It was the man sitting on her
left.
He gave her a knowing smile, then leaned over and whispered,
"I can tell you what you need to know. For a price, that is."
She gave him a cold look, but realising that no one else in this
place would help her, she swallowed her pride and asked, "How
much?"
The man was very quick on the uptake. "Four weeks' wages,
credited to my account immediately."
"Two weeks," she countered.
The bar patron's brow furrowed as he considered her offer.
"Three weeks, and no less."
"Done."
Swiftly moving across to the nearest computer outlet that also
handled data cards, the woman said, "Tell me." There was obviously
no further bargaining.
The man motioned for her to move closer, and then whispered, "I
can confirm that John Danziger *is* a key player in the underground
resistance. I suppose you already know that. But to catch him in
the act you..."
The woman pulled back, waving aside his words.
"I need to know where he is *now*!"
The patron was clearly surprised. "Is that all?" The impatient
expression on her face was the only confirmation he needed.
"Okay, see that door?" and he pointed across the room. "It
adjoins on to another bar, and it's a safe bet that if he's not here,
he'll be there instead."
The woman didn't bother thanking him, just made the credit
transfer from her own account. She didn't care about the cost for
the near useless information, as she could easily afford it. She
had much more important things on her mind.
Devon stepped through the doors to the dim, murky bar.
Smoking was illegal on the Stations, yet there still managed to be
a dark haze about the room. Sniffing the air, Devon surmised that
it was exhaust from one of the huge recycling plants in the
vicinity, conveniently tucked away from the rich.
She scanned the room, again ignoring the numerous looks she
received. Her whole life had been reduced to these next few
moments and she wanted to make them count for all she could. She
took another step forwards until she could make out most of the
establishment.
Devon's heart stopped beating when she saw *him*. The
familiar broad shoulders, the shock of curly, golden hair she
longed to caress, the way he slouched in the chair...memories
assaulted her mind from every direction. The first time they met,
the first time she saw a stubbornness in his eyes that equalled her
own, the first time she trusted him with her life.
And then the terrible waking that destroyed the dream. Devon
took a deep, calming breath and squared her shoulders. The moment
had arrived.
With a confidence she did not posses, Devon strode over to the
table at which John Danziger was seated, and perched on the vacant
chair. Next to him. Turning to face the tall man, Devon began,
"Hi..."
A chorus of wolf whistles and jokes immediately broke out from
Danziger's comrades seated nearby.
"Go, Danziger!"
"Watch it, the lady's got her eye on you!"
They all knew just what Devon's presence here implied. Rich
people only ever came down to the 'drone habitats' for one reason,
added to the fact that their actions would stay completely hidden
from the world of the rich.
John Danziger stared stonily ahead, one hand wrapped around an
untouched drink. The noise soon died down.
Devon tried again. "Hi," she said, lightly touching his arm.
"My name's Devon, and, uh..." Devon paused, suddenly at a loss for
words as Danziger turned to face her. At the sight of his blue
eyes, every coherent thought flew out of her head. That was, until
he spoke in the voice she knew so well.
"I'm not interested."
He swung around so his back was to Devon and a wave of hurt
assaulted her. What was wrong? She had to try again.
"Excuse me, but - I just wanted to talk to you."
Danziger pushed his chair backwards and stood up abruptly. He
gave her a long, contemptuous glare. "I don't go in for that sort
of thing. You rich types think you can have anything you want, but
you're wrong," he spat. "Go find some other drone to play with,
'cause I'm leaving."
He strode out of the establishment leaving a gaping Devon
staring at his retreating back. There was a rush to fill the
vacant seat beside her, and a short dark-haired man reached it
first.
"Don't worry about him, I can show you a good time," he
promised. Devon stared at him in horror as the implications of her
presence her sank in. Then she realised that John Danziger was
walking out of her life forever unless she did something right now.
"Wait! You don't understand..." called Devon down the
corridor, her voice shaking. "I just want to get to know you."
"Like I haven't heard that one before!" shot back Danziger,
increasing his pace even more. Rich people he could handle just
fine, but if they were crazy and obsessive as well like this one...
"Danziger! John!" Devon burst out. He stopped in his tracks
and turned, holding up his hands in a form of protest.
"Okay, this has gone far enough. How the hell do you know
my name? Are you part of the Council spying on us again?"
Devon finally caught up to him, breathing heavily and
horrified at her mistake of revealing that she knew his identity.
Everything had gone completely wrong, and she didn't have any idea
how to recover from her lapse. Danziger was staring at her angrily
right now, his hands on his hips as he tapped his foot waiting for
answers.
"No, I'm not the Council...I just -gasp- it's important..."
Devon reached out a hand to steady herself against him, and was
overcome by his familiar smell. Her knees buckled, her head swam
and suddenly there were a thousand images crowding her mind, every
horror from the moment she woke up until this. Her vision blurred,
and she fell forward. Right into John Danziger's arms.
***
Devon awoke with a beautiful smile curving across her lips.
She was strangely detached from her surroundings and had no idea
where she was, but that didn't matter. She felt safe, and happier
than she had been in months.
There was a presence in the room with her - she could hear him
shuffling quietly. The rhythm of his breathing was so familiar to
her ears and idly she wondered who it was. But this feeling of
peace was too precious to disturb by opening her eyes and
destroying the illusion, so she lay quietly for a while longer.
"I know you're awake." The sudden voice jarred Devon back
into reality and she sat bolt upright. A wave of dizziness flooded
over her and she brought her hands to her head.
"What's wrong with me..." she managed to whisper. This was
all too much like the last time, seemingly a lifetime ago on G889
when she had collapsed and awaken with John Danziger by her side.
This Danziger was not nearly as friendly.
"I'd get you a doctor, but I don't think that's a very practical
idea, considering the circumstances."
Devon looked up. Around her was a tiny room containing only
the barest necessities, and she was on a neatly made, narrow bed.
Danziger was sitting next to the door, with a wicked looking weapon
at his side. Pointed at her.
the logical part of
Devon's mind wondered. The rest of her, however, struggled with
emotions ranging from outrage at being 'captured' like this to
distinct feelings of lust. She quickly banished those thoughts
away.
"Where am I?" It was perhaps not the most original question
that Devon could come up with, but it served its purpose as an ice-
breaker.
"I'll ask the questions, Ms Devon Adair," Danziger sneered,
satisfied at the look of surprise on her face at his knowing her
name. "You're not the only one who can sneak into unauthorised
records."
In actual fact, he had gathered the information from the data
card she carried, but he wasn't about to let her know that.
"I want to know who sent you after me, and why. Then we can
discuss what I'm going to do with you."
Devon wasn't worried. If this man was anything like the John
Danziger she had known, he would never intentionally harm her. And
in any case, she wouldn't mind being held here with him for a
while...feeling wanted...someone who cared...
Her blue eyes looked directly into his, and Devon said, "I
have no idea what you're talking about."
"Like hell you don't!" Danziger burst out. He jumped to his
feet and began to angrily pace backwards and forwards, the firearm
still directed towards Devon.
"You come down here, looking for *me* specifically, and you
really think I won't suspect anything?"
Devon shrugged weakly, cursing the fact that she had revealed
her knowledge too early. Her head throbbed, perhaps that was a
factor. She hadn't been thinking clearly lately...
"Adair," he said, and the use of her name made Devon shiver
inside. The voice, the word, was all too familiar to her ears.
"Let me point out some facts to you." Danziger did not take his
eyes from the small woman sitting on his bed. She was a risk, an
unknown factor in his already dangerous life, and for all he knew,
she could be an assassin sent to track him down. He would not lose
the upper hand.
"One," Danziger continued. "You have access to records of
people like me, drones. Not that we're anything special, it's the
exact opposite. Our files are buried so deep within the system
that it takes an expert hacker, or someone with the right codes, to
even find out a person's name."
This fact was not due to any important information on the
drones, it was because Council personnel simply didn't care about
them. By burying and encrypting their files, the problems of
overpopulation, violent deaths and more could be ignored by the
general wealthy community. If you didn't know about it, it wasn't
a problem.
wondered some
small part of Devon's mind.
"Two - you play the role of a seductress to the hilt so that
you wouldn't draw undue attention. We see *your* kind all the time
down here," Danziger sneered.
Devon's eyebrows raised in a sarcastic expression. "My kind?
And what exactly do you think that is?"
"The type who love to screw around with us, the drones. They
don't care what they're doing, they just want a good time."
Danziger shuddered inwardly, remembering a time only a year
ago when a good friend of his hadn't listened to his warnings about
a wealthy man determined to seduce her. Magus had mysteriously
died soon after. An accident, they said, but Danziger had his
suspicions...
He blinked and shook his head, trying to refocus on the
situation at hand. "As I was saying, you tried to blend in. So no
one would notice that it was *you* who took out John Danziger."
Taking a deep, calming breath even though she was upset at his
insinuations, Devon asked, "Why would I want to take you out, as
you so eloquently put it?"
Danziger laughed mirthlessly. "The same reason my pal Dax
went missing. But you already know about that, don't you."
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything about a Council
conspiracy against the immigrant workers." Danziger gave her a
cold stare.
"Okay, perhaps I've heard one or two rumours about an
underground revolution. But why would I connect you to it?"
"You tell me."
"I know nothing!" Devon protested yet again. Inside, she was
marvelling at the fact that this Danziger was part of such an
event. Obviously, the spirit and fire she knew so well belonged to
the original John Danziger.
"I'm not even part of the Council. It was just Blalock's
code..." Devon broke off, noticing the change in Danziger's
expression. He stopped short and stared at Devon, his eyes filling
with fury. "You know that sonofa..." he sputtered.
Roughly, Danziger grabbed Devon's chin and forced her face
into the light. "I thought I recognised you. Your face was all
over that save-the-children campaign about two years ago!"
Devon's heart was pounding under his glare.
"Why don't you stop playing games with me? I *know* you're
one of them!" His eyes flashing, Danziger leaned dangerously close
to Devon until his face was mere inches from hers. "Tell me the
truth."
Devon swallowed, unable to break from his gaze. In her
wildest dreams, she never imagined her meeting with John Danziger
would come down to this, a showdown between two incredibly strong
willed people who could not make each other understand. She had to
try one more time.
"Danziger - John," began Devon, softening her voice. "I
despise the Council. If I were part of them, don't you think they
would have been tracking me? Don't you think they would be here by
now, and you'd be locked away?"
"I haven't told you anything," Danziger hissed. He remembered
what he was trying to protect, and added, "I don't even know why
you think there's a revolution. Besides, I know you're not
carrying any sort of tracking device. I checked while you were
unconscious."
Devon almost blushed at that, then half-wished she'd been
awake to remember it. She recovered her composure and said, "So
you know that this conversation isn't being recorded. There was no
one monitoring my actions from the start."
Danziger nodded, recognising the truth of her words. He
released her chin and slowly sank into a chair. Nervously, Devon
twisted to face him, crossing her legs underneath herself. She
wanted to reach out and touch him, but sensed that would only
escalate the problem again.
"I only wanted to meet you," Devon offered. She gave him a
worried smile. Would he believe her? "You don't know how *sick*
our society is becoming. Well, maybe you do," Devon hastily
amended, noting her drab surroundings which were obviously John
Danziger's living quarters.
"What I'm trying to say is, well, I'm tired of living the life
as one of the pampered population. That world is so plastic, so
artificial... I just wanted to meet some *real* people," offered
Devon, her blue eyes wide. This was the best explanation she could
come up with. Someday, perhaps, she could tell John the truth, but
that time was a long way off.
Danziger finally relaxed in his chair and put the weapon down.
"So why not come down here and just talk to any person? Why did
you pick me?"
Lowering her face so that her dark hair swung past her
shoulders, Devon feigned embarrassment. "I was looking for someone
with a good record, someone I'd feel safe with. You've heard about
the murders that go on, always hushed up, but still, many areas of
the stations aren't safe."
"So my name just, sort of, came up?" Danziger looked at her
in disbelief.
"Well, yes," Devon said awkwardly. "Not that I could find out
that much about you, just a name with a couple of commendations, a
picture..."
Danziger sighed heavily, running his hands through his golden
hair. "This is insane..." he muttered.
"Come to dinner!" Devon offered impulsively. "I promise, I
won't kidnap you or threaten you or anything like that. We can go
somewhere with lots of people..."
"Give me one good reason," countered Danziger.
Devon paused. He was right, he didn't have a reason to go with
her unless he was looking for love...and there was no way in hell she
was going to tell him that.
Devon reached out and gently took his hand. "Friendship? To
see how the other side lives? To bridge the gap between the
societies? We are all one people."
Devon's words echoed throughout her head, reminding her of
another time when she had made a similar petition to Blalock in
support of the Eden Project.
Thoughtfully, Danziger looked at his hand in hers. If this
woman was for real, she would make a potential ally in his quest
for freedom. He, too, recalled seeing her image on the vidnets
talking about change and gaining support until her messages
suddenly disappeared.
Besides, he hadn't had a date in months. he reminded himself. That would be disloyal.
"Okay," Danziger said aloud.
"Okay?"
"Yes, okay!"
A smile tugged at the corners of Devon's mouth while her eyes
betrayed her happiness. He was coming!
Devon suddenly realised that Danziger was asking her a
question. "Sorry, what did you say?" she apologised.
"When," he repeated.
Glancing at her watch, Devon's features paled as her eyes
widened in shock. "How long was I out..."
"Six or seven hours," replied Danziger. "Who needs sleep
anyway..." His voice held more than a hint of sarcasm.
"I'm *so* sorry," she offered. "I should go now...I had no idea
that it was so late...I've caused you so much trouble..."
Danziger waved aside her apologies. "It's my fault too, I
kinda jumped the gun when you showed up." He moved closer to her,
and lifted his free hand to her forehead. "How are you feeling,
anyway? Do you want me to take you to a doctor?"
He began to feel remorse for his earlier actions. This
mysterious woman wasn't the deadly assassin he had assumed her to
be, and while she still might have a hidden agenda, he was
beginning to trust her. A little. In any case, if she was as sick
as her collapse suggested, she deserved medical attention.
Briefly closing her eyes, Devon considered her situation. She
felt so much better now, perhaps her collapse had merely been an
emotional response from her over-stressed body.
"I'll be alright." Devon broke free of him and swung her feet
over the edge of the bed. Gingerly, she tested her legs and when
they supported her, she confidently stood up and smoothed down her
clothes.
She faced Danziger again. "I should be going now, so you can
get some sleep. But I'll see you again soon?" There was a note of
desperation combined with hope in her voice. Danziger nodded and
stood.
"Ms Adair," he began, but Devon interrupted.
"Please. Call me Devon." She flashed a warm smile.
"Devon, I'll walk you home," Danziger said, gently guiding her
to the door. "It's not safe down here at this hour."
Devon almost protested, but decided to hold her tongue. Even
though she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, it was
nice to have Danziger around. Wasn't that the whole idea?
"Thank you," said Devon and meant it with all of her heart.
***
The door closed behind her, and Devon counted to five. Then
she let out a jubilant laugh, and, leaning against the door for
support, sank to the floor. He spoke to her! He was going to see
her again! She *would* make this work, and no longer be alone!
Wrapping her arms around her body, Devon sat there and smiled
broadly while her mind traced the memories of the night. The
initial meeting had seemed to go terribly wrong, but now John
Danziger was giving her a chance. A chance to prove that she
wasn't evil, wasn't crazy or obsessive, just an ordinary person
who decided to do something a little different with her life.
And now that she had him, Devon could live again. She could
look for joy in the everyday routines because she had a friend.
Someone who cared, someone who would grow to love her. Devon was
sure of it.
"Mrs Devon Danziger," she whispered to herself with a giddy
laugh. "Mrs Adair-Danziger. John Danziger's wife." She casually
wondered what he would think if he heard her now. "He'd probably
back away slowly, and then run when he was out of my reach!" Devon
laughed to herself. Never mind, he would come around soon.
Mentally, she ticked off all the things that were the same
between her John and this new one. They were physically identical,
yet it was the person inside who counted.
And their characters, too, were so similar. The stubborn
streak, the strong personality; and the caring side as well, the
part of him that didn't allow her to walk home alone. The part of
him that couldn't hurt her, even when he believed she was a Council
spy.
"He's perfect for me," laughed Devon again. Her body began
shaking with hysteria. Devon now found her stupidity in the
Program hard to believe.
But all that had changed now. Devon was determined to focus
*everything* on him, John, and not lose him again. If she did, she
didn't know what she would do. She could not be alone again...
***
"A toast," offered Danziger, holding up his glass. "To new
friends. Even if you do have an unusual way of meeting people!"
Devon lifted her own glass to gently clink it against his and
smiled broadly. This was their third meeting since that night, and
their second dinner together. Things were going well.
After the initial awkwardness of their first 'date', Devon and
Danziger had been able to talk easily. About the stations, the
Council and their mutual hatred of it; and the small,
inconsequential things of everyday life. About work, and
recreation (although Danziger had little opportunity for that).
But nothing serious was discussed, not yet, anyway. There would be
time for that soon.
Devon felt as if she still didn't know this John as well as
she had known his image. Sure, she loved him but he kept so much
hidden from her. It would take her a while to break down the
barriers.
Danziger sipped his drink, and placed it back on the table.
"Devon," he said, "there are a lot of things I want to ask you.
Your life is still a complete mystery to me..." He paused, seeing
a shadow cross her face. "What's wrong?" Danziger asked gently.
"Oh, nothing," replied Devon, nervously staring at her hands.
"The past is just something I don't like to think about."
"Something happened to you, didn't it. Something, or someone,
hurt you really bad." His words were low, gentle, full of kindness
as Danziger felt a sudden rush of compassion for Devon Adair. On
the surface, she seemed to have it all, but inside, she was more
vulnerable than he had ever guessed.
Devon stared down at her empty plate. How much should she
tell him? How much *could* she say? When she finally looked up,
her eyes held such a pain and sadness that Danziger felt unexpected
fear of whatever had done this to her. Who could cause so much
sorrow?
Reaching across to take Devon's hand, Danziger asked, "Does
this have something to do with that project you were involved with
two years ago? The one with the Syndrome children?" Devon nodded
mutely. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She did, but not now. Not while John was only an
acquaintance, and *definitely* not while he was taking on the role
of a counsellor. So instead, she fired a question back at him.
"Do you know what it's like to lose a person, someone who might
mean more to you than life itself?"
Danziger was a little confused by her question. Death and
loss had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember,
but there had only been one who had affected him in such a way.
Yet now in his life, even with all the trials he constantly faced,
he was almost content.
"I lost someone very special to me once," Danziger said, a
little wistfully.
Devon knew.
"But I got past that, and I'm sure you will too," he continued,
patting Devon's hand in a comforting manner. "Especially these
last few months, it seems like a lot of things are finally sorting
themselves out in my life. Until you showed up!" Danziger laughed
hesitantly and she laughed with him, glad that the tension was
gone. Devon relaxed back into her chair.
Danziger glanced at his watch, and Devon saw his brow furrow
in concern. "I hate to leave so early, but I have to get back
home. Can't afford to miss a job," he explained. Devon was again
struck by the stark difference between their two worlds. She was
free to do what she wanted whenever she wanted, because her bank
account would take care of that easily. But for John Danziger,
every day of life was a struggle.
"I wish I could do something..." Devon offered weakly, but
knew he would *never* accept any favours (or handouts) from her.
Especially not now, when they were barely friends. "So... do you
want to do something soon?" Her invitation was open ended, and
Devon knew he would welcome it.
"Sure," replied Danziger. He liked Devon more and more every
time he saw her. "Any suggestions?"
Devon smiled mysteriously. "I thought we might take a VR
trip to the beach. Have you ever seen an ocean?"
"No," replied Danziger. "But aren't those programs supposed to be
really slack?"
"There's been some incredible advances in technology lately,"
Devon revealed. "I swear, I felt as if I was on Earth of the
past."
Danziger detected happiness in Devon's blue eyes, and saw that
the memory was special for her. He'd love to see more of her when
she wasn't plagued by darkness. "Okay, we'll do it!" Danziger
declared.
"I'll organise it... what day are you free?" Devon suddenly
realised that she didn't even know what time he had off. If any at
all.
"This Thursday, wait a minute, I can't that day. A ship's
coming back from a mining run, and I have to go pick up my
Kassidy."
"Kassidy?" Devon repeated blankly. He hadn't mentioned her
before... Nervously, her eyes studied Danziger's face for clues
hidden in his expressions, the secrets of his unknown life. She
couldn't stand it if he were to abandon her, she could *never* face
the aloneness again.
"Yeah, Kassidy," said Danziger, nodding his head and smiling
broadly. "My wife."
And with those two words, Devon felt her entire world shatter
once more.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
END "Devon, Alone II - Gathering the Fragments".
I would really appreciate any comments/suggestions on the series so
far, at destiny@wwdg.com
(
geocities.com/area51/vault) (
geocities.com/area51)