Dark Dance
by   Seven O'Nine
 

                             Okay, this is a dark fic that I've been toying with for a while, based on a couple of Seven Days
                             episodes. If anyone wants, I will give you an ep summary of them at the end...

                             Early S4.

                             ****

                             Liam was nearly an hour late. He often had difficulties waking at the end of the week, Da'an
                             knew, but he rarely overslept more than ten minutes. An hour was nearly unheard of...

                             A sharp snapping sound echoed from one of the corridors.

                             Da'an kept his eyes fixed on the datastream as he heard Liam come in. "You are late, Major,"
                             he said coolly. "I expected you nearly an hour ago. I was forced to cancel one appearance, as
                             I had no pilot on such short notice."

                             Liam stared at him coldly, then dropped into the chair at his desk. "Sorry, Majesty. Are you
                             going to have me flogged?"

                             Da'an frowned and waved away the datastream. Liam's face looked slightly more drawn, his
                             eyes with dark rings around them. He looked tired, or ill. "Liam... are you well?"

                             Liam looked up sharply. "Why? Do I look sick?"

                             "You do look fatigued."

                             Liam smirked. "Well, that's because I was hauled in here. So kindly tell me what's on your
                             calendar, so we can get on with it."

                             Da'an kept his gaze on Liam for a moment longer. Then Liam shoved back his chair, slowly
                             standing up with hard eyes. "What are you staring at?" he asked coldly.

                             Da'an turned his gaze away, and quickly waved up the day's activities. Liam looked over the
                             list with marginal interest, his eyes narrowed to slits. Then he jerked a hand toward the exit.
                             "Come on, let's move it."

                             ****

                             I'm going to kill him.

                             Renee Palmer felt her hands flexing in her suede gloves, as if she had Liam Kincaid's neck in
                             them. When I find him, she thought furiously, I'm going to strangle him. We scheduled that
                             six-way cell meeting for months, and at the last minute he doesn't show.

                             How could he do that to me? He knew about the meeting, he knew that he was needed, and
                             he just didn't come. He is very, very dead when I get my hands on him...

                             Her train of thought was interrupted when a young man in a suit pushed past her, almost
                             tipping her into the fountain. The morning was gray and chilly, and whoever had decided to
                             have the ceremony just below the Washington monument definitely had a streak of sadism.

                             Renee blew on her bare wrists and tried to pull her coat sleeves further down on her hands.
                             Then she turned as a murmur ran through the crowd.

                             The only person in the entire square who wasn't wearing a coat, Da'an looked fairly
                             impressive as he walked alongside the presidential representative, toward the temporary
                             podium.

                             Renee narrowed her eyes as Liam walked right behind Da'an, with more than a hint of a
                             swagger in his walk. As she moved closer, he glanced over and smiled coldly.

                             Renee ran her forefinger over her throat in a silent threat. Liam looked at her with a peculiar
                             look in his eye, then mouthed, "I'll look forward to it..."

                             Renee felt a different kind of chill as he walked after Da'an.

                             ****

                             Renee couldn't approach Liam until Da'an was done with his speech—apparently the longest
                             one he had ever made. She paced along the carved marble fountain, watching the water flow
                             sluggishly from the mouth of a stone dragon. She poked at the dragon's face with a forefinger,
                             and grimaced as her sleeve soaked some of the icy water.

                             "... I thank you for your time," Da'an's voice rang out, and Renee turned her attention from
                             the fountain as the crowd applauded. Da'an smiled and climbed down from the podium, with
                             Liam hanging back.

                             Renee's lips twisted slightly as she saw him—he was flirting with one of the aides, who was
                             giggling at the handsome young man's attentions.

                             I'm going to combust down here and he's making points with an airheaded ex-cheerleader,
                             she thought furiously.

                             She stalked toward the podium and slapped her hand against the plywood back. "Down, now,"
                             she said loudly.

                             Liam glanced over the railing and smirked, then turned back to the aide. "Sorry, got to go. My
                             'ball and chain' just showed up."

                             Renee felt her eyes widen. Liam slid down the railing and waved to the girl. She blew him a
                             kiss. "See you at eight," she fluted.

                             "Seems like years already," Liam responded.

                             I'm going to strangle him... if I weren't before, I am now.

                             As the aide slunk away into the masses of suited corporate officials, Renee locked her hand in
                             a death grip around Liam's elbow. He looked insolently amused by the gesture. "'Ball and
                             chain'?" she snapped. "Just where do you get off saying that, Kincaid?"

                             Liam leaned back on the railing. "Well, if you aren't, you should be," he said smoothly.

                             Renee resisted the sudden urge to begin twisting his arm. She forced herself to release him
                             and speak quietly. "Where were you last night? I had to handle the whole meeting on my
                             own."

                             For a moment, he looked confused. "Meeting?"

                             Renee's face hardened. "Don't play stupid with me, Kincaid. You're the leader of the
                             Resistance—so at least pretend to care something about the running of it."

                             Liam's look of confusion melted into another insolent smirk. "Didja know you're beautiful when
                             you're angry?"

                             Renee turned and walked away, feeling her face beginning to flush with ill-concealed fury. I
                             was wrong. I'm not going to kill him. I don't want to get near him... what is wrong with that
                             man now?

                             ****

                             Nearly half an hour passed before Liam Kincaid sat down at the fountain and opened his
                             global. He tapped in the number, and chewed his lip until a face appeared on the screen. Then
                             his face twisted in anger.

                             "Listen, you idiot, I was supposed to be at a meeting last night. Yeah... yeah, Resistance.
                             SURE, I can use it in my favor! Especially with Da'an. Yeah, there's Renee Palmer, all mad at
                             me now. Of COURSE I remember what I'm doing. Just so long as you remember YOUR end."

                             He slapped the global shut, and remained glowering at the stone unicorn and dragon for a long
                             time after...

                             ****

                             An uncomfortable silence hung over the shuttle as Liam piloted it back. Da'an stared out at the
                             spinning clouds around them. "Where to next?" Liam asked brusquely.

                             Da'an kept his gaze from his protector, staring out at the Capitol Building. "I am expected on
                             the mothership. There have been attempts to access critical Taelon information recently, and
                             Zo'or is concerned."

                             "Not surprised," Liam replied scornfully. "With the kind of job he's doing, it's surprising
                             someone didn't crack that wide open before."

                             Da'an stared at Liam for another minute, his clear blue eyes revealing his confusion. His
                             fingers moved slightly as he murmured, "I have not heard you critique Zo'or's effectiveness
                             before..."

                             "Well, you hear it now."

                             Da'an's face hardened slightly. "Liam, are you well?"

                             Liam's twisted in his seat and smirked. "What, you think I'm sick?"

                             "You are acting in a manner... most unlike yourself," Da'an said, leaning forward.

                             Liam's green eyes glinted slightly, and a distinctly dangerous smile crossed his lips. "Has it
                             occurred to you that this might be the REAL me?" he asked softly.

                             Da'an drew back slightly as Liam turned to the controls. He had heard Liam flirting rather
                             lasciviously with a aide at the conference—and he had never seen Liam do such a thing
                             before. He had also seen Renee Palmer, whom Liam had always seemed friendly with in the
                             past, storm away with flushed cheeks and fury in her eyes.

                             No more words were spoken as the shuttle landed on the mothership.

                             ****

                             Renee's face still felt hot as she exchanged hollow pleasantries with Zo'or and Sandoval.
                             Sandoval's face was devoid of emotion—he was upset about something.

                             Probably about those attempts to find out who's trying to hijack those Taelon computer cores,
                             she thought. Thwart the man and he writhes. Those FBI types hate bouncing in their chairs. I
                             wonder if a CVI makes you more impatient, especially among us lowly mortals who have to
                             slog through something with actual stimulation of the brain...

                             She frowned. Normally she wouldn't be thinking like this about Sandoval, or anyone else for
                             that matter.

                             Liam. That insensitive fool had her furious. What kind of game did he think he was playing?
                             He'd never viewed the Resistance so carelessly before...

                             "Hello, Ms. Palmer," drawled a low voice behind her.

                             Renee stiffened as Liam appeared behind her, the same half-smirk on his lips. He strode over
                             to Sandoval and muttered a hello.

                             Da'an came in a moment later, and for a moment Renee caught his eyes. Though she doubted
                             that she had much in common with the Taelon diplomat, she did recognize the expression on
                             his face. She had seen it in her mirror, right after leaving the conference.

                             Renee spent much of the meeting staring ahead of her, pretending that Liam wasn't eyeing her
                             and Da'an both. She only realized how her attention had been wandering when Sandoval
                             asked, "And what about those armored cars, Ms. Palmer?"

                             Renee glanced from Sandoval to Zo'or, both watching her expectantly. "Sorry," she
                             murmured. "Several men hijacked a pair of co-venture armored cars, and managed to breach
                             one of them. Volunteers arrived, however, before they could extract the contents."

                             Zo'or looked irritated by this reply. "What were the contents?"

                             "Mostly security gear and weapons," Renee replied, toying with her global. "There were a few
                             medical implements, but no more than fifteen emergency implements."

                             Zo'or's eyes narrowed. "You suspect the Resistance?"

                             Sandoval stepped next to Renee, looking slightly ill-at-ease. "At the time, there is no sign that
                             the Resistance as we know it is involved. It is equally possible that either a rogue cell or a
                             different organization attacked the cars."

                             He looked back at Liam, who was studying a nearby female Volunteer with great interest. "I
                             will require the help of Major Kincaid."

                             "Sure," Liam said, without noticeable interest. "Might not be fatal this time around."

                             Sandoval looked to Da'an, who seemed to be absorbed in his own thoughts. "And, Da'an? Can
                             you spare Major Kincaid for the time being?"

                             Da'an gave Liam a peculiar look, as if something about his protector were paining him. "I
                             evidently have no say in the matter," he said tightly.

                             Renee froze. An awkward silence descended on the room, broken by Liam's loud laugh. "I'm a
                             little late for work and I get the cold shoulder," he said, standing up quickly. "Well, Sandoval,
                             we have trash to pick up. Let's get moving."

                             Renee saw Da'an's face working as Sandoval followed Liam off the bridge. But though she
                             wanted to ask him what Liam had said to him, caution held her back.

                             Wait and see, she thought. Wait and see... I'll find out what he's doing...

                             *****

                             "Sandoval's not as stupid as you think. If he finds out about the deal I made with you, I'm
                             dead. Very dead. Sure, you know about the torture things he's got hidden up here, but have
                             you SEEN them? If that fool finds out about this, he's going to crack my head open and use
                             what's inside to get all of you behind bars.

                             "Now get everything from the warehouse and find somewhere else to store it. I don't know
                             where! I just know that Sandoval is bringing me down and he's going to raid the place. I
                             suggest you be ready for him."

                             The global clicked shut.

                             ****

                             Da'an was silent as Liam prepared to leave the Embassy, his fingers slowly moving across the
                             arm of his chair. He watched the protector as Liam carefully buckled on a gun, then slipped a
                             knife into his pocket.

                             "You seem awfully quiet," Liam said coolly. "I noticed you staring at me the whole time
                             Sandoval was yapping. Was being quiet really so interesting?"

                             "Liam," Da'an said slowly, "I detected from Renee Palmer's reactions to you that I am not
                             alone in believing that you are changed. Has anything happened?"

                             Liam stared at him for a moment, a peculiar look coming into his eyes. "Don't ask the question
                             if you can't handle the answer, Da'an. Believe me... you don't want the answer."

                             He reached out and slowly ran his finger along Da'an's cheek, tracing along the edge of his
                             eye. The Taelon stared at him, then pushed the hand away. For a moment, Liam smiled
                             arrogantly at his superior, then murmured, "Gotta fly," and vanished out the door.

                             Da'an watched him go, feeling himself recoil further.

                             ****

                             The warehouse was old, crumbling and definitely beginning to lean to the side. Sandoval had
                             seen worse—and he had seen better, too. In such places as these, decaying already from age
                             and neglect, often small explosives riddled the walls, ready to collapse the building when
                             someone unwanted came in.

                             Well, they wouldn't go in. They'd just stand in the door and watch the hijackers scuttle.

                             Liam was standing only a few feet away. "Heard something from the back," he grunted. He
                             seemed itchy and bad-tempered on this mission, but Sandoval had managed to ignore him so
                             far.

                             "We'll check it out," the implant said, heading for a narrow alley.

                             He had hardly finished the words when five men came into view, around a red pickup truck.
                             The back was piled high with Taelon machinery, weapons, and computer components, all
                             glowing blue and purple.

                             A skrill blast sent one of the hijackers flying against an array of dingy trash cans. Sandoval
                             saw one of them raise a gun—and fall to the ground with a smoking hole in his chest. Liam
                             Kincaid dropped his own weapon and began to pursue one running criminal, while Sandoval
                             attacked another...

                             ****

                             Liam tackled the hijacker from behind, his strong arms pinning the weaker man to the ground
                             as he sat up. His green eyes were ablaze as he grinned down into his captive's terrified face.
                             Middle-aged, balding, wearing a three-piece suit. Not hard at all.

                             "I warned you," he said softly. "I told you, idiot, that Sandoval was coming. I can't have you
                             spill any pretty little stories about me and what I'm doing for you, so... this'll hurt you more
                             than it hurts me."

                             The man tried to throw up his hands as Liam's fist smashed against his face. He began
                             wriggling and crying as the younger man pounded his face and neck again and again...

                             "Major!"

                             Liam's hand paused in mid-air as Sandoval's voice rang out. He glanced back at where the FBI
                             agent was standing, staring at him and the bloodied prisoner under him.

                             "I got him under control, Sandoval," Liam said smoothly. "I do need cuffs, though."

                             Sandoval eyed the prisoner, still shaking and cringing away from Liam, and muttered, "Good
                             work, Major," before leaving the scene for handcuffs.

                             ******

                             The scent of vanilla filled Renee Palmer's bedroom. The candles lit on either side of her
                             dressing table mirror gave the odd day a more familiar feeling.

                             Renee stared at her sad-eyed reflection, and began to brush her blonde hair.

                             Men, she thought scornfully. Just when you think you've found a nice one, he turns into a
                             frog on you. In more areas than one...

                             How could Liam change this way overnight? He's hostile to Da'an, a nightmare to me,
                             neglecting the Resistance, ogling anything that stands upright and wears a skirt...

                             Whatever it is, it has to stop. It doesn't look like Da'an's going to get to the bottom of this, so
                             I will. I'll find out why Liam Kincaid is doing this or I'll deal with him myself...

                             Renee set down the hairbrush and blew out her candles with an air of grim finality.

                             ****

                             Night fell upon Washington, and a stifling blanket of humidity came with it. But Da'an felt stifled
                             by more than the air—Liam was standing next to him, facing Sandoval. The young man had a
                             look of great satisfaction, while Da'an felt slightly sick.

                             "You did an excellent job dispatching the hijacker," Sandoval was saying. "However... Major, I
                             wasn't aware that you were willing to go to such lengths to restrain a prisoner."

                             Da'an froze. Liam was smiling in an eerie manner. "There are plenty of other things you don't
                             know," he said quietly.

                             Sandoval smiled slightly. "Apparently. What I do need to know, Major, is why you were so...
                             enthusiastic in your attack."

                             Liam's eyes narrowed, but the peculiar smile stayed in place. "You're not the only one with
                             SECRETS, Sandoval. And mine are staying that way..."

                             Sandoval appeared to want to say something, but then restrained himself. He nodded curtly to
                             Liam and quickly walked out of the Embassy.

                             Da'an felt cold, though the Embassy was well-heated. He watched Liam as the young man
                             strolled to his desk and began sorting through papers. Was this the Liam Kincaid whom he had
                             taken on two years before?

                             ****

                             Liam's green eyes were cold as he walked quickly through the dimmed mothership corridors.
                             Da'an had retired for the night and sent him away—finally, he could get to work. The Taelon
                             had clearly been able to sense a difference, but there was no sign of him actually doing
                             anything.

                             He looked down at the hand holding his global, flexing his stiffened fingers around it.

                             Good enough.

                             He slid into a chair and stared at a console, his jaw working. Then he quickly waved up a
                             control datastream and said quietly, "Files A6 through H6, secure sector."

                             The computer's voice was as cool as his own. "Authorization required."

                             "Voice recognition: Kincaid, Liam N."

                             "Data insufficient. Handprint required."

                             Liam pressed his hand to the panel. It glowed around his fingers, then died away. The
                             computer paused, then replied, "Handprint accepted. Compiling data."

                             Liam grinned and opened his global, allowing it to capture the text as it scrolled by. "Look out
                             world," he murmured.

                             But he froze as a footstep was heard. He shut the global and slowly got up from his seat,
                             staring straight at Renee Palmer. She was glaring at him, her arms pressed rigidly to her
                             sides. "We're going to talk, Kincaid. About you and your involvement with the Resistance."

                             Liam quickly got up, trying to block her view of the console as he moved toward her. "Fine, but
                             let's do it in-" he said.

                             "What's that?" Renee asked, craning to see over Liam's shoulder.

                             "It's nothing," he snapped, starting to shove her from the room.

                             "Nothing, of course," Renee replied, a hint of a growl entering her voice. "I recognize that
                             data-"

                             "I'm warning you-" Liam said, a dark glint entering his eyes.

                             "It's part of the Doors/Taelon co-ventures schedule," Renee said, pushing Liam's fist from her
                             arm.

                             "You're spying on me?" Liam snarled, his face distorted until it was nearly unrecognizable. His
                             hand struck Renee across the cheek, snapping her head against the wall. Exploding stars of
                             pain and rage danced in front of her eyes as she slammed her fist against his stomach, and
                             watched him hit the floor.

                             For a moment, she only watched him stare up at her, surprised and infuriated. "Don't ever
                             come near me again, Kincaid," she said in a low voice, pressing a hand to her cheek.

                             Then she turned and left, her mind made up about Liam Kincaid...

                             ****

                             The dark figure walked through the streets, his green eyes glaring straight ahead and his fists
                             clenched. His stomach still ached from where Renee Palmer had punched him—for a corporate
                             CEO, she was a fighter.

                             He paused at a shop window and stared through at the reflection. But what he saw was darker,
                             twisted, distorted by the glass. It was as if he were staring through at a second, dark Liam
                             Kincaid...

                             Liam grimaced and stared down at his hands, where tiny red lines along his fingers and palms
                             were still healing. He slowly clenched them into fists—and slammed his right hand into the
                             window.

                             The reflection shattered into a thousand glistening shards, falling like rain to the sidewalk.

                             For a moment, Liam stared at his bloodied hand, and slowly twitched his fingers. Then he set
                             off into the night.

                             Two men were standing by an old dumpster by the now-abandoned warehouse, rubbing their
                             hands against the cold. Liam eyed them for a moment, before turning the corner and slowly
                             approaching them. "Hello, gentlemen."

                             One of them, a tall lanky man with thinning gray hair and rather sad eyes, stepped forward.
                             "The esteemed protector Major Liam Neville Kincaid. So, how goes your mission?"

                             "Not so great," Liam growled. "You were supposed to get people out of the building before
                             Sandoval arrived."

                             "And YOU," said the other man, a stocky dark man with a thick Southern accent, "were
                             supposed to stall Sandoval."

                             "What was I supposed to do," Liam demanded, circling around the two, "throw myself under
                             the shuttle? I'm just glad that I didn't end up being blamed for Howard and Parker getting
                             away."

                             "The plan will proceed as before," the tall man said mournfully. "Did you get the information
                             from the mothership?"

                             "Half."

                             "HALF?" burst out the dark man.

                             "Look," Liam fumed, "I'll get the rest. I got into the system, but Palmer came in at a bad
                             moment. I'll have it by midnight tomorrow."

                             The two exchanged looks. "Palmer found you?" the mournful man asked, with a hint of
                             surprise. "Does she suspect?"

                             Liam grinned. "She suspects that I need a kick in the head."

                             "What about Da'an?"

                             "Innocent as a newborn babe. At least where I'm concerned."

                             "This discovery," the dark man said slowly, "about the Resistance, is quite intriguing..."

                             Liam grinned in a feral manner. "You want me to get more info?"

                             "No. We don't care about the Resistance as we know it right now. All we want is the
                             technology. The corporation can overwhelm the market with what we'll have."

                             "I'd noticed."

                             "You could," the dark man said coldly, "make some attempt to be civil."

                             "I'm giving it my best," Liam replied icily. "Of course—I have even more to lose than you."

                             The mournful man attempted a smile. "I doubt that. You're working for us, if you recall. If we
                             fall, we will fall first and hardest."

                             "Oh, I doubt it," Liam replied coldly, taking a step toward the taller man. The man glanced at
                             his companion. "If you recall, you are the successful businessmen with decades of experience,
                             good records, millions of dollars to catch you. If this plan falls through, I have nothing to catch
                             ME. I don't have enough behind me."

                             He stared at his two companions with narrow eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes. WHATEVER."

                             ****

                             Until late morning, Da'an had rewatched the recording and reread the reports, and still he felt
                             stunned. It was irrational, strange of him to keep doing this as if he could find some nuance in
                             them that would change what had happened.

                             He allowed the global to slip onto his lap and wordlessly watched the recording on his wavering
                             datastream. A human male of middle age, his face bloodied and broken from a vicious assault.
                             Muted words described what had happened, but all Da'an saw was Liam's grim face as he
                             walked behind the stretcher.

                             Footsteps rang out in the hall. "Da'an, I want to talk to you."

                             Da'an waved away his datastream as Renee Palmer came into view. He had met her only on a
                             few occasions, but her poise and coolness had impressed him. Except for the previous day—he
                             had seen her walking away from Liam, angry.

                             And now she was no longer angry. She was coldly furious. Her eyes glinted a little as she said
                             in a low voice, "I'm going to be quick and to the point, Da'an. If you don't kill him, I will."

                             Da'an had a suspicion of who it was. "Of whom are you speaking?"

                             "Kincaid, who else?" Renee snapped.

                             Da'an's gaze strayed to the datastream, still playing the news broadcast—now showing
                             Sandoval assuring a reporter. He waved it away. "Has Liam done something to offend you?"

                             Renee smiled coldly. "Yes, he has."

                             Da'an watched as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and tightly pressed it to her
                             cheek, rubbing it in circles. He felt himself recoil as she pulled it away—revealing a few
                             patches of makeup atop a large, brown-green bruise. She turned her head to allow him to
                             view it.

                             Da'an felt cold at the sight of the bruise. He reached out hesitantly to touch her cheek. "Liam...
                             is responsible for this?"

                             Renee bit her lip, pulling a compact from her pocket and opening it. "He let me have the back
                             of his hand on the mothership. I was going to talk to him about a certain betrayal of trust."
                             She began carefully patting makeup onto her skin.

                             Da'an forced himself to look normal—he doubted that being upset would help the situation. "I
                             too have noticed a... change in Liam's behavior. The past few days have been proof of that..."

                             Renee nodded, slipping her compact into her pocket. "I see. So you've noticed it too. Did he
                             hit you?"

                             "No, he has not as of this time," Da'an said slowly. "However, his presence has often made me
                             feel... threatened..."

                             For a moment, he stared over the city, and then murmured, "The change is so sudden... is it
                             possible that Liam has been... replaced by someone else?"

                             Renee slowly walked closer, and her voice grew more gentle. "I don't believe that's possible,
                             Da'an. I saw him accessing Taelon files... handprint and voice identification. It's Liam."

                             Da'an closed his eyes and sighed, resigned to the information. "Then... I thank you, Ms.
                             Palmer. I... wish to be alone now. There is something I must do when Liam returns..."

                             Renee's eyes narrowed. "Keep my global on standby. I don't trust him."

                             Da'an made a gesture of dismissal, and heard Renee quietly leave the room. Then he gripped
                             the edge of Liam's desk, waiting for his protector to return...

                             ****

                             An hour later, Liam strolled in with the same insolent smile on his lips. Da'an almost cringed at
                             the sight of him—he had, irrationally, hoped that somehow things would return to normal now
                             that he had made his decision. A foolish child's hope.

                             He slowly stood up and walked to Liam's desk. "Liam, I must speak with you," he said loudly.
                             "It is quite important."

                             Liam slowly straightened, his eyes darkening slightly. "What about? Aren't I the good little
                             protector?" he asked mockingly.

                             Da'an forced himself not to react to his jibes. "It concerns the criminal you apprehended
                             yesterday."

                             Liam slowly began to circle the desk. "Sandoval seemed satisfied."

                             Da'an's voice sharpened. "But I am not. I have seen that you beat a human nearly to the point
                             of death... why? I had thought you above such behavior."

                             Liam laughed. "I got a bit worked up, I lost control for a moment. So what?"

                             "I cannot have a protector who 'loses control.'" Da'an's eyes gleamed slightly.

                             Liam smiled ever so slightly, taking a step toward Da'an. "Is that a threat, Da'an?" he asked
                             softly. Da'an felt a pair of hands slip around his wrists and yank them up. Liam's smile
                             widened as he took another step forward, forcing Da'an back.

                             "I may not have as much at my fingertips as the Taelons," he was murmuring quietly.

                             Da'an felt the wall behind his back, but Liam kept pushing him backward in the iron grip.
                             "Release me at once," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

                             "... but I do pack a punch on Earth," Liam continued. "I could have a bomb on the
                             mothership... in the Embassy... right next to Zo'or for all you know... but you couldn't stop me.
                             Not you, not Palmer, not Sandoval..."

                             "Release me immediately!" Da'an said loudly, pulling away from Liam.

                             "Hey!" Liam's fist pressed against Da'an's chest, pinning him to the wall. Da'an felt Liam's hand
                             on his chin, forcing him to look into his protector's wide green eyes. "I will RELEASE you, when
                             I see fit," he said coldly. A cruel smile began to play on his lips as his free hand stroked
                             Da'an's cheek, as if he were petting an animal. Da'an flinched from the touch—and jumped as
                             Liam's global chirped.

                             To his surprise, Liam immediately stepped away and picked up the global. Then he looked
                             back at Da'an, coldly. "Sandoval wants me on the mothership." He smiled slightly. "Keep in
                             mind what I said about bombs up there..."

                             Da'an turned away, not watching as Liam left.

                             ****

                             "You wanted to see me," Liam said laconically, leaning on the console that Sandoval was
                             apparently transfixed by. "Keep it short—I have business back on Earth."

                             Sandoval briefly turned his gaze from the data scrolling by at high speed. "What kind of
                             business?" he asked.

                             Liam grinned. "Let's just say it wears a little gold skirt and blushes quite fetchingly."

                             Sandoval smiled slightly. "I'll try to be brief. I need to know why you access certain Taelon
                             files..." He glanced sideways at the young man, with a semblance of being casual. "Zo'or is
                             being very cautious with these recent robberies."

                             Liam smiled and crossed his arms. "Easy enough. I've been trying to figure out if there are
                             any future shipments of Taelon technology that might be vulnerable."

                             Sandoval hesitated, then nodded. "Very well, Major."

                             ****

                             Renee Palmer hated being in bed.

                             It was too easy to think in bed, before you fell asleep. Lying under silk sheets, she stared at
                             the heavy canopy over her bed and tried to trace the patterns with her eyes. It didn't work.

                             She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. Years before, her older
                             husband had seen this problem and had talked to her about politics, philosophy, religion, and
                             so forth until she fell asleep. Since he had died, there was no one to talk.

                             Her discussion with Da'an kept flitting through her head. She didn't like or trust Da'an, but she
                             did feel a peculiar kinship to him in this incident. And he had been rather touching when he
                             had asked if Liam might have been replaced by someone...

                             An idea began to germinate in Renee's brain. For nearly half an hour, she toyed with the
                             implications—going through all the problems, sorting them, trying to find explanations. It was
                             possible—such a person would not be noticed easily...

                             She swung her legs off the bed and quickly went to the computer on her hardwood desk. She
                             quickly entered a photo of Liam, taken from his Companion agent ID badge.

                             The computer whirred, then two ominous words sprang onto the screen:

                             ONE MATCH

                             Renee cursed, running her fingers through her rumpled hair. She quickly initiated a new
                             search, then stared at Liam's visage for a moment longer. Then she began working on the
                             image, blurring it until the basic lines of his face were all that was seen.

                             The computer whirred.

                             TWO MATCHES

                             Renee resisted the urge to kiss the screen. The two matches came up: Kincaid, Liam N.; and
                             Parks, Niall W.

                             She accessed Parks' bio, and felt a chill as the photo shot up. It showed a man of about thirty,
                             with long raven-black hair tied back and dark brown eyes. His cheekbones and something
                             about the line of his jaw were different... but everything else looked like Liam.

                             She sighed. "Minor plastic surgery, contact lenses, hair dye," she murmured. "Then they'd
                             practically be twins... on the outside, anyway."

                             Renee scrolled down to where it showed his place of residence, and froze. Golden Acres
                             Sanatorium.

                             She ran to her closet and yanked out the first outfit that her hands found. She didn't care how
                             she looked now—she knew that she needed Da'an's help.

                             *******
                             ****

                             None of it felt right...

                             Da'an eyed the human as he walked in, and glanced down at the global in his hand. Jacob
                             Markham, approximately thirty years of age, of middle height and weight, but clearly fit and
                             well-trained. His chiseled face and deep blue eyes were calm and serene, though a little
                             worried.

                             Da'an knew that Markham had applied for the role of Companion agent recently, but been
                             rejected because of a lack of empty spaces. Now, Da'an thought grimly, he would receive a
                             chance. Things had changed.

                             He quickly looked up, keeping his features pleasantly neutral. "My greetings to you,
                             Commander Markham. I am grateful that you answered the summons so quickly."

                             Markham rather clumsily saluted Da'an. "I'm grateful that my petition has been reconsidered
                             by the Taelons."

                             Da'an inclined his head graciously, then glanced down at the global. "Your record lists you as a
                             respected veteran of the SI War. You were awarded several times for courage and
                             performance above and beyond the call of duty."

                             "It was nothing, sir."

                             "Humility becomes you, Commander." Da'an touched the screen, switching to new data. "You
                             passed the physiological and psychological testing with near-perfect scores. Are you married?"

                             "I was." Markham's face twisted a little.

                             "Was?"

                             "My wife was killed in a gasline explosion two years ago."

                             Da'an watched Markham's eyes, flitting across the floor. He seemed uncomfortable to be
                             revealing such personal information. "My condolences. Have you any children?"

                             Markham nodded sharply. "I have one daughter, but she's not with me."

                             Da'an simply looked at him, awaiting an explanation.

                             "My sister... um, she realized that I'm not really cut out to be a single dad. My daughter
                             Angela is being raised with my nieces and nephews."

                             "Are you sister and daughter happy with this arrangement?"

                             "Yes, they both are."

                             Da'an considered this for a moment. "Are you in any way uncomfortable with the idea of a
                             CVI, Commander?"

                             "Yes, sir," Markham said, sounding a little nervous but still determined. "However, I hope not
                             to allow personal revulsions to get in the way of serving the Companions."

                             Da'an set down the global. "May I ask why you request to serve us?"

                             Markham looked slightly relieved. "It's a simple answer, sir—while in the SI War, I... saw a
                             great deal of things that affected me deeply. I wish to serve the Companions to help maintain
                             the peace that you have brought."

                             Da'an smiled slightly. "I find your application for the role of Companion protector quite
                             admirable in all its details. Very well. You are selected."

                             Markham's face split into a grin, which he quickly repressed. "Thank you, sir," he said huskily.

                             Da'an carefully descended from his chair, sizing up his new protector with a hint of sadness.
                             "Your duties are effective immediately. Your implantation will be commenced tomorrow, but
                             perhaps it would be advisable for you to accompany me in the day's schedule."

                             "Yes, of course."

                             Da'an stopped, thinking of what would happen when Liam discovered this. Perhaps it would be
                             best, he thought, if Liam not know until after the implantation of the CVI and skrill... somehow,
                             none of this felt right...

                             "Are you all right, Da'an?" Markham asked, stepping closer.

                             "I am fine," Da'an said quietly. "I was simply dwelling on the impending dismissal of your
                             predecessor..."

                             ****

                             This is not right...

                             The four words echoed in Da'an's mind as he watched Markham at the desk. The new
                             protector was carefully rearranging the reports and paperwork, and placing the few personal
                             items of Liam's in a cardboard box on his chair.

                             Da'an watched him without outward emotion, but feeling himself recoil from this scene. And
                             yet he still felt revulsion as he remembered how Liam had pinned him against the wall, holding
                             him helpless, uttering whispered threats and touching him.

                             Could that be the young man from two years before? Liam had grown into less of a child in the
                             past year, but Da'an had never foreseen that he would end up like this.

                             Perhaps it is because I am Taelon, he thought regretfully. The personalities of Taelons rarely
                             varied, and the short lifespans of humans made their changes and stages pass in the flicker of
                             an eye. Maybe Liam had been headed for this, and Da'an had simply missed it...

                             The sound of footsteps interrupted his musings.

                             The dark bruise on Renee Palmer's face was evident as she strode in—she had neglected to
                             cover it with makeup. Her clothing was rather rumpled, as was her usually smooth blond hair.
                             "Da'an, I need to talk to you," she said loudly.

                             Da'an sighed.

                             Markham walked closer her, frowning. "May I ask who you are, ma'am?"

                             Renee shot a look at the young man, and at Da'an. "She is Renee Palmer, the current CEO of
                             Doors International, Commander," Da'an said hastily. He slowly stepped down. "Ms. Palmer,
                             this is Commander Markham..." He hesitated, eyes flickering as if he didn't want to say the
                             words. "My new protector."

                             Renee eyed Markham narrowly as she offered him a hand. He shook her hand, then gestured
                             at her face. "Run into a door?"

                             "No, I ran into a protector," Renee said acidly.

                             "That will be all, Commander. I would like to speak alone with Ms. Palmer," Da'an interjected,
                             before Markham could reply.

                             As Markham left the room, Renee said quietly, "Didn't waste any time, did you?"

                             Da'an's face spasmed a little, and Renee instantly regretted her question. "I... felt that I
                             should recruit a new protector as soon as possible. I no longer consider myself safe in Liam's
                             presence..."

                             Renee's eyes widened as Da'an stepped to his chair and sat down gingerly. She recognized
                             the shock in his face and eyes, though he was so alien to her. "What happened?"

                             Da'an looked at her slowly, then down at his lap, as if the words could be found lying on the
                             floor. "I... expressed my displeasure over Liam's treatment of a human he had pursued. He
                             became threatening."

                             "And...?"

                             Da'an's fingers gripped the armrests. "He held me against a wall and threatened physical
                             violence, both against myself and against those on the mothership." His eyes slowly went to
                             the far wall. "Fortunately, Agent Sandoval attempted to contact him before he could fulfill his
                             threats..."

                             Renee sucked in her breath, her eyes hard. "Da'an, it may not really be him."

                             Da'an looked up sharply. "You told me that there was no imposter..."

                             "Well, that's before I started brainstorming last night." Renee pulled out her global and typed
                             in a few commands into it. Da'an's datastream automatically activated, showing the face of a
                             young man with long black hair tied back, and dark intense eyes staring from a familiar face.

                             Da'an drew back a little. "Liam."

                             "No, not Liam." Renee half-smiled, tapped in a command, and a series of numbers and words
                             scrolled under the photo. "This man is Niall Parks. I suspect that his employers have cut and
                             dyed his hair; eyes altered with pigment treatments or contact lenses; and minor plastic
                             surgery would alter the line of his facial bones. I guess he's our leak—a person coming in to
                             find out about those co-ventures shipments."

                             Da'an stared at the hologram before him. "I do not understand." He held out his hand to
                             Renee. "You said that you witnessed him using a handprint to access Taelon files?"

                             Renee frowned. "Yes, I know. I think I can figure that one out—but I'd have to examine his
                             hands."

                             "Examine them?"

                             Renee sighed and held up her own hand. "It is, conceivably, possible for a human to fake
                             handprints via advanced skin grafts, molded after Liam's own handprints. The only way for me
                             to tell is to look for small cuts on the sides of his fingers. Where is he?"

                             Da'an sighed. "He did not arrive today. I have not seen him ever since he left for the
                             mothership."

                             Renee cursed under her breath. "Then he's extracted what he wants, and will probably hand it
                             over tonight."

                             Da'an slowly stepped down from his chair and began to circle the room. Renee watched him,
                             waiting for him to react or say something. Finally, he turned to Renee and asked softly, "Then
                             why does he do this? And why does he act so unlike Liam?"

                             Renee's face hardened. "One answers the other, Da'an."

                             She typed in a last command into her global. A final line of text ran along the bottom of his
                             datastream:

                             PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Golden Acres Sanitorium

                             "He's crazed," Renee said flatly, watching Da'an stare at the message. "He's doing this to keep
                             himself out of a sanitorium in the future. But I still can't say for certain that Liam has been
                             replaced by Niall Parks. I'm going there to find out if Parks is still in a padded cell or roaming
                             free in Liam's guise..."

                             She watched the alien, a question in her eyes.

                             Da'an finally smiled. "I will have Markham prepare a shuttle..."

                             ******

                             Da'an watched Renee Palmer as she quickly scrolled through an assortment of names and
                             records on his datastream. Finally an automated message rose up, bright red and flashing.

                             Renee took a step back from the datastream. "I need to speak with whoever's in charge," she
                             announced coolly. "This is Renee Palmer, Doors International CEO."

                             "Processing request," the computer replied pleasantly. "Please stand by."

                             Da'an watched Renee as she waited, fingers lightly pressed to the dark bruise on her cheek.
                             He considered asking her about her future plans, but then decided against it. They would
                             probably alter with whatever they learned about Niall Parks...

                             The face of a dark young woman in a pale blue jumpsuit appeared, looking slightly nervous.
                             "This is Golden Acres Sanitorium. May I help you?"

                             Renee nodded curtly as she walked closer. "Yes, you can. I need the records of a psychiatric
                             patient named Niall Parks. Are you able to give me that information?"

                             "Yes, ma'am." The nurse glanced to the side, and Da'an heard the faint rustle of papers. "I'm
                             sorry, ma'am, but he's no longer here."

                             "No longer there?" Renee asked sharply. "He escaped?"

                             "No, he's been transferred to a private surgical and psychiatric establishment near Baltimore,"
                             the nurse replied.

                             "Who owns it?"

                             "Ummm..." The nurse began going through her papers again. "Uh, a man named Andrew
                             Haven."

                             Renee's eyes narrowed slightly. "I see. Did Mr. Haven give a reason for the transfer?"

                             The nurse consulted a global. "He offered a free, experimental treatment for psychosis, based
                             on not-yet-established Taelon technology."

                             "How long ago was the transfer?"

                             "About a month and a half."

                             Renee smiled slightly and nodded to the young woman. "Thank you. You've been more than
                             helpful."

                             As the image vanished from the datastream, Renee pressed a hand to her face, and smiled.
                             Leaning forward in his seat, Da'an said quietly, "I am not familiar with the name of Andrew
                             Haven."

                             "You shouldn't be," Renee said softly. "He's not well-known to the Taelons. He's the president
                             of a small corporation that Doors kept from going under a few years back. Small, but
                             ambitious."

                             Her eyes became distant, as if she were thinking back. "He's a proud man—too proud to
                             simply submit to another company with what he build up. If he stole Taelon technology,
                             adapted it for human use, he could have it on the market faster and cheaper than Doors
                             International." She smiled crookedly. "Only the schedule on the convoys is limited to the
                             Taelons and the highest levels of Doors International."

                             Da'an allowed himself to smile, despite what he heard. "Then I suggest that we proceed to the
                             Baltimore facility immediately..."

                             ****

                             As the shuttle slowly settled before the psychiatric facility, Da'an's pale eyes slowly ran over
                             the stark lines and metallic windows of the building. Harsh and repulsive by Taelon standards.
                             Especially when one considered what it had contained.

                             As he followed Renee into the sparsely-furnished lobby, he felt Markham draw closer to him.
                             A pity... a pity that if we find Liam—and if the man who threatened me is Niall Parks—that
                             Markham will be dismissed.

                             As Renee strode toward a receptionist's desk, a gray-haired man with bright eyes and a long
                             white coat appeared from a nearby corridor. He smiled as if genuinely happy to meet them.
                             "Ms. Palmer," he murmured, shaking her hand, "I can't tell you what an honor it is to meet you
                             in person..."

                             "Dr. Maxwell," Renee replied, her smile failing to reach her eyes. "I'm here to investigate the
                             possibility of... shall we say... confining one of my employees..."

                             Maxwell immediately became sympathetic. "I understand fully..." He slowly turned to face
                             Da'an. "Da'an," he said, sounding somewhat awed. "To what do we owe the honor?"

                             Da'an attempted to look pleased, but felt himself failing to muster any enthusiasm. "I have
                             come for the purpose of investigating the usage of certain Taelon technology... for the purpose
                             of treating psychosis in humans."

                             Maxwell looked quite pleased by this information. "Well, I'd be happy to give both of you a
                             guided tour of the building."

                             Da'an paid little attention during the tour—Renee appeared to be speaking for both of them,
                             asking questions as she ran her hands over hybridized machinery and joked with Markham
                             and the doctor. Markham appeared uncomfortable with the proceedings, and only smiled when
                             spoken to.

                             But as rows of steel doors rolled down corridors before Da'an, he felt himself rise from his
                             former apathy. It was as if he were looking at a prison—only thick plastic windows allowed the
                             inhabitants any view of the world.

                             As he strained to see inside one of them, he felt a finger prod him in the arm. He turned to see
                             Markham nod toward one of the doors. Beside it was a metal plate: PARKS, N.

                             "... I'm curious, Doctor," Renee was saying, tapping a finger on the window. "What kind of
                             patients do you treat in this particular facility? This one, for instance..."

                             Da'an strained to see through the window, at the padded cell. He could only make out the
                             glaring orange of a straightjacket and the dark clothing of the tall figure lying prone on the
                             bed. The person inside was facing the wall, as if trying to shut out the outside world.

                             Maxwell sighed and shook his gray head. "Tragic. A psychotic young man, defies treatment so
                             far, no matter what we attempt. He does seem to have improved on his own, since his escape.
                             More polite and quieter—no screaming..."

                             "Escape?" Da'an marvelled at Renee's ability to sound casual, even under such pressing
                             circumstances. "He escaped?"

                             Maxwell nodded curtly. "A few weeks ago. Managed to get past the lock—used the tine of a
                             fork, I believe. He was missing for a few weeks, until we managed to find him again a few
                             days ago..."

                             It cannot be a coincidence...

                             "Is it possible for us to see him?" Renee asked, peering in the window. "I've never met a
                             psychopath before."

                             "No, I'm afraid that isn't allowed," Maxwell said, smiling amiably. "You know how it is."

                             "Yes, of course," Renee said mildly.

                             As Maxwell began speaking again, Da'an glanced to Markham and nodded slightly. The
                             protector nodded in reply and stumbled, falling to his knees with a groan. Da'an feigned
                             concern as Markham's face contorted and he pressed both hands to his forehead.

                             Renee immediately gripped Markham's arm, as the doctor asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

                             "Shooting pains," Markham grunted, hunching forward as if being upright were painful.

                             Maxwell immediately began dragging the younger man halfway to his feet. "Come on, my
                             office is just down the hall. I'll examine you there..."

                             As Renee slipped past Da'an, he felt something cool and hard press into his palm. His slender
                             fingers curled around the object, concealing it from Maxwell's view as he and the young
                             woman helped Markham stagger around the corner.

                             Da'an hesitated, hearing footsteps die away in the distance. Then he held the silvery cylinder,
                             about the thickness of his finger, against the doorknob. A pale green glow emanated from the
                             end, and there was a loud click as the lock disengaged.

                             He twisted it awkwardly, took a deep breath, and stepped into the cell. He now could see the
                             long limbs and brown hair of the man on the bed—all too familiar.

                             Liam Kincaid rolled over, arms bound in a straightjacket and legs strapped to the bed, and
                             smiled wanly at him. "Hello, Da'an."

                              ****

                             For a moment, Da'an only stared at Liam, with mingled shock and relief. The young man
                             looked unhurt, though his clothing and hair were rumpled and grubby-looking. And Da'an
                             recognized, all too well, the eyes that were staring up at him.

                             Liam glanced down at his bound legs and straitjacketed torso, and smiled in a rather
                             embarrassed manner. "I'd give you a rational explanation for this, but I can't," he said mildly.

                             He shifted his legs a little and raised his eyebrows. "Could you untie me?"

                             Da'an eyed the straps tied to his ankles, and began to fumble at the metal buckles. "What
                             happened?" he said in a low voice.

                             The straps dropped to the floor with a clatter. Liam slowly sat up and twisted inside his
                             straitjacket. "I haven't the fainest idea. I was walking to the Embassy, when someone clouts
                             me over the head. Next thing I know, there are a pair of orderlies sitting on my chest, telling
                             me the doctor will be here in a minute... can you get the snaps in the back?"

                             Da'an gingerly pulled the back of the jacket apart, and Liam began wriggling it over his head.
                             "And I've been here ever since... tried to escape last night. They have BIG nurses."

                             As the orange jacket was tossed to the floor, Da'an quickly glanced out into the hallway. There
                             was the far-off murmur of Renee's smooth voice and Maxwell's deeper one. "We must hurry..."

                             Liam looked puzzled, but did not ask questions as he unsteadily walked after the Taelon. But
                             footsteps came closer...

                             ****

                             Renee doubted, after the hefty injections Markham had received, whether he would ever have
                             a headache again. He was walking a little unsteadily, and his eyes were dilated until they
                             looked almost black. At least he hadn't fainted when he had been injected—Renee knew some
                             big men who did that.

                             She would have helped him navigate the pale corridors, but she was trying to keep Maxwell
                             from moving too far ahead. The doctor, after treating Markham's overstated pain, had
                             evidently remembered that Da'an was wandering unattended around a psychiatric ward, and
                             was anxious to return and finish the tour. He was walking far too fast—Da'an would never have
                             time to get Liam a safe distance away...

                             "Doctor, really," she said loudly, attempting a smile. "Commander Markham can't really keep
                             up at this-"

                             The doctor turned a corner, and she saw his eyes widen. "What is this?" he asked, horrified.

                             Renee feigned surprise as she stopped at his side. The door to Niall Parks' cell was wide open,
                             and Da'an was standing beside it, beside a man who either was or looked very like Liam
                             Kincaid. Both stared wordlessly at Maxwell.

                             Renee took her opportunity. Her arm snaked around Maxwell's throat and bent him backwards.
                             As he gasped and began yanking at her fingers, Markham's large hands locked around his
                             wrists and held them behind his back.

                             Da'an watched as the two pushed Maxwell toward the empty cell. The doctor managed to
                             choke out a strangled, "No!" before Renee's fist slammed against his back. He stumbled to his
                             knees, as the massive steel door clanged shut behind him...

                             ****

                             "Thanks a lot," Liam said mildly as Renee and the burly dark man beside her began walking
                             with him and Da'an—not a run, but fast enough to show how urgent it was. "I was getting a
                             little nuts in there."

                             "Don't joke about that!" Renee said harshly. "We need to leave."

                             "The shuttle is by the north exit, Da'an," the dark man said.

                             "Thank you, Commander Markham," Da'an replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

                             Liam frowned, and jerked his head back at Markham. "Who's he?" he asked, trying not to let
                             any suspicions show.

                             Da'an kept his gaze straight ahead, but the faint jerking of his fingers told Liam just how much
                             he had been dreading this. "We will discuss it later..."

                             ****

                             "When I find him," Liam announced, leaning back in the pilot's seat, "I'm going to kill him."

                             Renee had expected something of that kind—Liam's face had flushed and his eyes had
                             sparkled all throughout the weary tale. As Da'an had described at length what had happened,
                             she had detected that he was softening the details. His blue eyes were troubled as he
                             deliberately omitted how Parks had struck Renee and pinned Da'an to the wall and—as he had
                             reluctantly told her—stroked his face. Either he didn't want to dwell on what Parks had
                             threatened, or he simply didn't want Liam flying into a blind rage.

                             If we weren't hunting a deranged killer who happens to look exactly like Liam, she thought,
                             this would be very enjoyable. The cool night air had filled the shuttle as they climbed in, and
                             Washington's lights glittered far below the shuttle like a sea of stars.

                             "Wait," Liam said suddenly, "what's that? I'm being picked up by the shuttle... down in the
                             square near the Washington Memorial..."

                             Managing to understand what he had said, Renee leaned forward as a small hologram
                             appeared in front of Da'an. It was a fuzzy view, but she recognized the man pacing to and fro
                             in the dark. "Parks. He must be waiting for Haven."

                             "Should we land?" Da'an asked mildly.

                             "Not near," Liam said tensely. "We'll land a half-mile away. A shuttle directly coming down
                             would scare him into escaping... and I have a score to settle."

                             ****

                             A church bell was tolling in the distance.

                             Renee's eyes strained in the dark as she stared at the dark, pacing man who was standing by
                             the fountain, glaring at the carved unicorn and dragon that had gone white in the moonlight.

                             She grimaced as Markham walked softly beside her—why couldn't the man breathe more
                             softly? Her heart began hammering every few minutes, whenever Parks turned their way...

                             It was eerie. Sick.

                             He looked so much like Liam—even the mannerisms and walk were the same. He must have
                             been coached during those few weeks before Liam had been captured, shown tapes and
                             pictures of his soon-to-be alter ego. I guess that's where the psychotic rages became a
                             problem, she thought with a smile.

                             "He's coming," murmured Markham's soft voice.

                             Renee stiffened as a door opened, shedding a beam of light across the square, then closing as
                             the light vanished. Parks perked up noticeably, his hand slipping into the pocket of his long
                             coat and a sharp smile crossing his face. Renee heard him say something, but couldn't make
                             out the word.

                             A tall, mournful-looking man walked across the square, his sad face sent into shadow. I've
                             seen him before, Renee thought. Conference at Geneva, two years ago...

                             "Didn't think you were going to make it," Haven said mildly, as Parks pulled a global from his
                             coat. "I take it that they suspect?"

                             "Yeah."

                             "Well, don't worry. You can't help that part. We'll forge a new identity for you, in a different
                             part of the world." Parks held out the global, and Haven quickly stuffed it into a fold of his own
                             coat.

                             The older man began to walk back to the building. Parks stared at the fountain for a moment
                             longer...

                             "Parks!"

                             Liam's voice rang out, shattering the near-silence. Parks turned and stared as Liam Kincaid
                             stepped out of an alley, with Da'an just a step behind him. "I'd like to talk to you about stealing
                             my life," Liam continued in a low voice.

                             Renee's attention wavered as Haven's lean figure vanished into the shadowy alley. "Markham,
                             after him!" she shouted, fumbling for the gun in her pocket. Markham leaped forward,
                             vanishing into the darkness after Haven...

                             ****

                             Da'an stumbled back as Parks leaped forward, his fist caught in mid-air by Liam. The double
                             stepped back, his eyes blazing in his pale face as he began backing away from Liam.

                             His eyes flickered to the alley where Markham was dragging a half-conscious Haven into the
                             open. The grim-faced soldier dropped the older man to the ground and began stalking toward
                             the two men. Renee Palmer's heels clicked on the stone sidewalk as she slowly walked toward
                             the fountain, a gun clenched in her hand.

                             "You stole from the Taelons for a minor corporations," Liam said in a low voice, as he slowly
                             came closer. "You attacked Da'an, hit Renee, and tried to kill a man who knew what you
                             were."

                             "I won't go back," Parks whispered through gritted teeth. "I'd kill you first..."

                             Renee's voice knifed through the night. "MARKHAM!"

                             Liam saw Haven stagger to his feet, and a bolt of orange shatter the dark as it hit Markham in
                             the back. He stumbled to his knees, a look of shock on his face.

                             Then all thoughts of Markham fled from his mind, as Parks grabbed him and threw him to the
                             ground...

                             ****

                             Stone scraped against Liam's back and stars danced before his eyes, as Park pushed him back
                             against the edge of the fountain. Near-darkness melted into black, with the brief flash of the
                             dragon's face...

                             He gasped as he fell back into water that felt like someone had just melted a vat of ice...
                             "PARKS!" he shouted, stumbling through the water. It was up to his knees, and the sheer
                             iciness of it made his legs feel as if he were wading through frozen honey.

                             Parks was standing on the rim of the fountain, staring coldly at his opponent with eyes like
                             green ice. He took a step forward, dropping into the water with a splash. He aimed a blow at
                             Liam's chin, but Liam's fist shot out to block the blow.

                             Over Parks's shoulder, Liam saw Da'an staring at them with something close to whatever the
                             Taelons had instead of panic. Renee was nowhere in sight. But in the darkened world that Liam
                             saw around him, he heard her shouting something unintelligible...

                             Parks's arm locked around his neck, forcing him back, bending him back against the
                             statues—and something scraped against his spine.

                             Liam almost slipped in the icy water as he felt the ribbed spiral of the unicorn's horn against his
                             back—sharp enough. Parks hovered over him like a demon with his face... but not his eyes.

                             Liam jerked sideways, sliding down and slamming against the unicorn's long head, before
                             plunging into the dark water...

                             ****

                             Da'an felt himself recoil as the two dark shapes locked in a deadly embrace, each determined
                             to kill the other. The water around them swirled and churned.

                             He saw the man on the right try to impale his opponent on the horn of one of the statues, a
                             unicorn locked in seeming combat with a dragon. The two white-marble figures seemed
                             somehow appropriate

                             One drew something from inside his sodden jacket, and the other punched him in the chest
                             and sent the pistol flying. It struck the wall next to Da'an with a spray of sparks. He stumbled
                             back as a white streak shot from the falling weapon, blasting a hole into a nearby building.

                             As Renee Palmer sprinted toward the fountain, shouting something he could not hear, Da'an
                             pressed himself further away. He could not help in this fight—he could only pray that Liam was
                             the victor...

                             ****

                             "Markham!" Renee shouted again, sprinting across the stone clearing to where Markham was
                             attempting to rise to his knees. A long, dark stain was spreading across his jacket.

                             Her gaze jerked sharply to Haven as the tall manner tottered to his feet, heading back to the
                             building from where he had come. Renee fumbled for the gun at her side, and fired a shot. The
                             businessman stumbled and fell, groping at his side.

                             Renee glanced back at Markham, who was halfway onto his knees. His face was pale and set,
                             and his hands were stained with blood. "Just a flesh wound," he grunted. "Go... go on!"

                             Renee gritted her teeth as she sprinted toward the fountain. The two men were throttling each
                             other, churning the icy water at the feet of the dragon. She aimed her gun. "DON'T MOVE!"

                             Both of them froze. Identical wet faces, blank green eyes, sodden clothing and hair clinging
                             close to their skin...

                             Renee felt sick. "Oh no..." she whispered, her gun slowly lowering.

                             The same thought occurred to both of them. For a moment they stared at each other, then
                             threw themselves forward, locked in the fight. Renee stared helplessly at them, then ran to
                             where Da'an was lurking in a shadowy alley. Only his electric-blue eyes could be seen, looking
                             almost as ill as Renee felt.

                             "Which one?" Renee panted. "I lost sight of them for a moment... did you see which one?"

                             Da'an drew back, his helpless expression showing her all she needed to know.

                             Suddenly a cry sounded from the fountain, and Renee whirled to see one of the men upright in
                             the water...

                             Renee felt her heart stop as she saw what was happening. One of the two was straddling his
                             enemy, shoving his head under the icy water. The dying man was thrashing, his hands clawing
                             at the victor's throat and chest, but his struggles were growing weaker.

                             Renee heard herself shriek, "Liam, NO!" but she wasn't certain who she was screaming at...

                             And suddenly it was over. The winner slowly rose from the fountain, gasping and doubled over.
                             In the now-calm water, Renee saw the peaceful face of one, Niall Parks or Liam Kincaid,
                             shining in the moonlight.

                             The man slowly came toward her, a relieved smile on his face. "Renee, I..." he began.

                             She simply raised her gun, and watched his confused eyes. "Back to the shuttle. Now..."
 
                             ****

                             The shuttle flew to the mothership in silence.

                             Da'an's eyes were fixed on the young man kneeling in front of Renee Palmer, her pistol
                             pressed to the nape of his neck. His green eyes were fixed on the glowing shape of the
                             mothership. He was shivering, his sodden clothing still dripinng from the icy water.

                             Renee herself had not spoken a word since the shuttle had arrived, only second after an
                             ambulance had taken Haven and Markham away, as well as the now-cold body of the man
                             drowned in the fountain. Her face was cold and hard, ready to fire at the man in front of her.
                             Da'an recognized the look—he felt it inside himself.

                             He had prepared himself for the worst—he could almost hear Sandoval's voice stating coldly,
                             "This is Niall Parks." He could not allow DNA to be tested, and undoubtedly Haven and his
                             cohorts would have added any distinguishing marks to Parks' body, one way or another. His
                             handprint was identical...

                             Only observation could tell them who the man in the shuttle was. Da'an shivered a little as the
                             memory of Parks' near-attack on him, almost feeling the madman's hands.

                             "Landing in the mothership," the pilot said.

                             ****

                             Sandoval and Zo'or were waiting on the bridge when Renee and Da'an came on with their
                             prisoner. Sandoval looked furious at the deception—Da'an could imagine how the idea of an
                             insane double not arousing his suspicions would have irked him.

                             "I'd like to say it's lovely to be back," the prisoner said mildly.

                             As Renee kept her gun pressed to his back, the young man sighed and turned around. "Look,
                             Renee, how can I prove to you that I am who I say I am?" he asked softly.

                             Renee bit her lip. "One way."

                             "Name it."

                             "Take off your shirt."

                             His eyes went wide. "What?"

                             "I said, take off your shirt." Renee held her gun out further to back up the point.

                             The young man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Renee, I just got dunked in icy water. I'm
                             cold."

                             "Strip," Renee said, her voice rising in anger. "I punched Niall Parks in the gut when he hit me.
                             Hard enough to leave a bruise. Liam Kincaid won't have a bruise—Niall Parks does."

                             He watched her for a moment, then began awkwardly unbuttoning his shirt. It dropped to the
                             floor, and he held out his arms. There was no bruise on the slightly bluish flesh of his stomach.

                             Renee slowly lowered her gun, stepped closer, and pressed her fist against his stomach,
                             watching his face carefully. He looked mildly uncomfortable, but not pained. Then she pulled
                             away. "He's real."

                             Da'an sighed and smiled a little, relieved.

                             ****

                             "I thought I was going to go crazy myself," Liam said quietly, walking along one of the more
                             secluded corridors of the mothership. "I couldn't even run in circles to amuse myself—I just
                             had to lie there and watch dust specks."

                             "There was no indication of what Haven had planned for you?" Da'an asked, watching his
                             protector's.

                             "Just was going to let me rot away in a cell, I guess," Liam said, fixing his eyes on the stars.
                             "How's Markham?"

                             Da'an smiled slightly. "I have reassigned the commander, upon his recovery, to the Embassy
                             in Canada. I believe that his talents will undoubtedly be well-appreciated there."

                             Liam grinned. "You jilted me, Da'an. I feel hurt." He watched a reluctant smile cross Da'an's
                             lips, then became serious. "I guess Parks must have been... pretty horrific..."

                             "Yes," Da'an replied softly.

                             Liam's face tightened. "He's dead, Da'an."

                             Da'an bowed his head slightly. "I can only hope that nothing like this happens again."

                             "You and me both," Liam said quietly.

                             THE END.