Chapter 10 of The Edge of the World
Summary: Someone has intercepted Hayden and his friends! Can they trust him? In the mean time, Damien has something that Eros wants . . .
Disclaimer: Characters/canon belong to Pixelberry
I’m searching for answers
‘Cause something’s not right
I follow the signs, I’m close to the fire
I fear that soon you’ll reveal your dangerous mind
“What the- hey, get off me!” The impostor struggled in Hayden’s grip as the two wrestled each other, before Hayden managed to lock his arms behind his back. “Guys, it’s me, Damien!”
“The hell it is!” Steve growled. “You can drop the act, ‘Damien’! Or should I say Dexter? Or some other name that starts with D?”
“What the hell makes you think I’m-” Before he could say anything else, Steve pressed a certain spot on his shoulder and watched as the panel slid open. The revealed circuitry cast an unearthly blue glow masking The Match’s instantly paled face. “I . . . how . . .” He stammered. “I don’t understand- these wires-”
“Drop the act, Dexter,” Hayden said coldly. “We’re not falling for this again. You either take us to Maya and Damien or we have a handler right here who can make that happen.”
As if to prove his point, Sloane stood straight, her lips pulled in a thin line. “We don’t want to fight you,” she implored. “The way I do things, Matches are always afforded a choice, but now, we don’t have the luxury of time. Please just cooperate with us.”
For some reason, he only seemed more and more bewildered at the things they were saying to him. But noting Hayden’s furious expression and the tears in Nadia’s fearful eyes, he started to back down. “Look, let’s just calm down here,” he said softly. “I need to get a few things straight. First off, I genuinely have no idea why I have wires in me and I’d really appreciate some answers on that. Second, my name is not Dexter. That has got to be the dumbest name I’ve ever heard of.” He scowled. “And if someone’s legally changed my name without asking me, I need to have words with them.”
“Listen, you-” Hayden was cut off by Steve, who motioned frantically towards the corner. Sure enough, the shadows of patrolling guards were growing longer, indicating that they were approaching the area now.
The Match took advantage of the distraction to wrench free of Hayden. Then to everyone’s surprise, he beckoned them in another direction. “This way!” he whispered. “Hurry!” Seeing no other choice, everyone followed him through another path until he reached a certain cargo container. After making sure no one else was in there, he led them inside and secured the door closed, keeping them safely hidden from anyone passing by.
A few awkward moments passed as everyone gauged him, trying to process this sudden turn of events, until Nadia finally spoke. “Guys, I think he’s telling us the truth.”
“Nadia, we still need to be careful here.” Hayden said. “How do we know he’s not going to lead us straight to Cecile? You know what happened to Maya after she trusted him.”
“But that’s exactly what I’m trying to prevent here!” The Match protested as Sloane frowned and stepped forward to examine his panel, pulling out her tablet from her small bag. She went relatively unnoticed while the others continued their exchange. “I just got out of my prison and I’ve been trying to find Maya. I think I know where they are and we need to get out of here right now!”
“I don’t know,” Hayden was watching him skeptically. “Something’s still not right about this.
“Guys, wait.” Sloane’s eyes were wide, she tinkered with the Match’s panel until the desperation in his eyes suddenly went blank and his body became completely still, prompting everyone to take a cautious step back.
“Uh . . . Sloane, did you just break his brain?” Nadia tilted her head curiously, rapping her knuckles against his head.
“No, I put him in maintenance mode to do a scan. This way, Matches function as robots – detached from personality, emotions and basically everything that makes him . . . well . . . human.”
“How can you scan a Match when he’s conscious?” Hayden asked.
“He’s not conscious, at the moment. Maintenance mode, remember?” When Sloane noticed everyone’s stunned expressions, she just shrugged. “I’ve hacked confidential files from a corporation and overrode their prison’s entire security system in the North Pole and turned their entire factory of Matches against them. I don’t see what’s so surprising about this. Anyway,” she took a deep breath, gesturing to the Match. “He’s definitely telling us the truth. He’s not Damien, but he isn’t Dexter either.
“So he’s a . . . clone of a clone?”
“Perhaps. His first recorded memory is only timestamped to just a few hours ago. In fact, his interface is scheduled to record and upload video logs to Eros’ mainframe in this location. But his long-term memory includes footage of the events from before, including the events at the Louvre. But the only difference is that the footage being recorded here is in real-time, which makes his presence here more specific to whatever the agenda is at this particular place and not from before.”
When Sloane looked up, everyone was staring at her with completely confused expressions. She cleared her throat, realizing she needed to simplify her word choice. “Whatever his purpose is, it’s only meant to be carried out here.”
“Well we’re about to find out.” And with that, Sloane switched the Match back to normal mode.
He blinked several times before facing everyone, taking in their grim expressions. When Sloane opened her mouth to speak, he raised a hand, cutting her off. “Wait. You don’t have to say it,” he said sadly. “I saw it for myself and then whatever you just did . . .” He looked at his hands, frowning. “I’m like Hayden and Steve, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Sloane replied. “I’m sorry that we don’t have a gentler and gradual way to tell you, but we’re completely pressed for time.”
The Match nodded in understanding, swallowing hard as he closed his fists. “I know,” he said. “I’m starting to remember everything now.”
Hayden blinked in surprise. Well that was quick. “How exactly is your memory at the moment?” He asked. “What do you remember?”
“Not much,” The Match squinted, trying to think back. “I know who you guys are . . . I remember Maya, our friendship, the fact that we’re together now, my mother and sisters. I know what all these people mean to me, though the details are a little hazy. But I do remember today more clearly. All I know is that I’m supposed to get to Maya and escape.”
“Ugh,” Nadia shuddered. “Why do I have a feeling this is somehow related to what Harley was going to do to Maya back at the Arctic?” Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances, knowing that was what was likely going to happen here, given the Match’s obvious cluelessness to the situation and where he’d been headed had they not intercepted him. This guy would barge into her cell, make her believe they were getting out of here, then lead her to either Cecile or Rowan, who would then reveal the truth; staging the ultimate heartbreak for her in order to suit whatever nefarious agenda they had in mind.
It was then that everyone had reached the same conclusion. Trusting this Match was a huge risk. But it was one they had to take if they had any hope of getting their friends out relatively unscathed. So they proceeded to fill him in on everything that had happened to them, up to and including Cecile’s deal. Even that there were other Damiens out there – the real one, and another fake. When they were done, he was pacing, running his fingers through his hair.
“Like we said,” Steve chimed in awkwardly. “We’re kind of on a time crunch-”
“No, no, I get it- it’s just . . . a lot of information.” He stopped in one place, his expression changing as everything seemed to become clearer to him. “So they’re gonna use me-him-us to hurt her . . .”
Nadia chewed her lip, struggling to hold back tears. “Technically, they already did in a way. And they’re planning to do it again. And I’ll bet you anything they have something in store for Damien. What with their weird obsession with ‘love’ . . .”
He picked up on the implication and swallowed hard, shaking his head rapidly. “No. I can’t let this happen.” He looked up at them, his earlier desperation returning, though with a completely different meaning now. “What can I do to help?”
“Since you were on your way there, do you know where she is? Can you get to her?”
“I could’ve . . . but if you say I’m uploading logs to Eros and they can look into my head, I’m not confident I’ll get past the guards, Harley and Dexter before the jig’s up. It’s really risky – speaking of which, we need to find a better place to hide. Someone’s bound to need this cargo container at some point and then we’ll be discovered.”
“Upload logs . . . look into your head . . .” Sloane suddenly perked up. “I have an idea! It’s crazy, but it might work!” She looked to her tablet and scrolled through the diagnostics she’d gotten on him. “You and Dexter are both clones of Damien, meant for Eros’ temporary use- no offense!” She continued when he waved her off. “You’re obviously of the same model. Maybe there’s a way to see what’s going on there through Dexter’s eyes! With you as our means of communication!”
Nadia raised an eyebrow. “So you want to have him make some sort of mind-melding telepathic connection to Dexter and use his brain as surveillance?”
“And to see how his mind works if possible! Maybe there’s more going on than we think! Something to turn the scales in our favor?”
“Oh god,” Hayden groaned. “Now my mind’s gonna explode.”
“Maybe literally in my case,” The Match said, wryly. “But if it’ll get us the intel we need, let’s do it.” He watched as Sloane reopened his panel, then typed away at her tablet, starting programs and windows that none of them could decipher while Steve kept watch at the entrance. Once she was done, she took a deep breath.
“All right, here’s what’s going to happen.” she explained. “I’ve hacked into Eros’ surveillance program and am going to replace it with an update that will synchronize your software with Dexter’s and essentially override-”
“Uh, in English, please?”
“I’m going to link your mind with Dexter’s so that he can see everything that you can see. And only him; not anyone else at Eros.”
The Match nodded and then took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and concentrated. As Sloane completed her update, he began flinching, shuddering and jerking in place for a few moments while Nadia and Hayden kept their hands on his arms, supporting him. Several minutes passed by with everyone both giddy with anticipation as something could finally be working in their favor, and also anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop – such as a random trojan horse or something that would alert Cecile to their location.
Once the update completed the Match’s eyes opened; a blank, faraway look in his eyes now as he started searching for Dexter. “Found him,” he said. Everyone sighed in relief.
“What’s he doing now?” Hayden asked.
“Pacing back and forth outside the cargo container. He just got done taking food to Maya and Alana – he also had a really heated exchange with Maya.”
“Heated exchange?” Hayden tensed. “Did he hurt them?”
“No, they just . . . argued a lot.” The Match pressed his fingers over his temples and tried tapping further into Dexter’s memories. “Maya confronted him over lying to her at the Louvre and causing all the awful stuff that happened today and he insisted he was just doing his job, but . . .” Then his eyes widened.
“But what?”
“Maya mentioned him suddenly deciding to protect her when Harley was hurting her and he basically let it slip that it’s hard for him to see her suffer and the extra feelings he’s been having about her are real, but he’s insisting there’s nothing he can do, that she brought that on herself but he still doesn’t want her to be harmed- good lord, he’s going back and forth.”
“Uh- whoa, back up. Extra feelings?!” Nadia’s jaw dropped. Hayden didn’t know whether to be furious at the revelation that his own look-alike had hurt Maya or strangely disturbed yet intrigued by the fact that Dexter had clearly developed a soft corner for Maya.
“He’s struggling,” The Match explained to the stunned group. “He was in on the whole thing at first, but something’s changed now. He has memories of Damien and Maya – they’re vague, but clear enough that it’s had an impact. Now he doesn’t want to hurt her. At this point, he’s likely hoping there’s a way for her to be unharmed without anyone finding out his feelings.”
“So . . . he knows this is wrong, but is hesitating to do the right thing!”
The Match nodded. “He needs more of a push to understand the bigger picture. Damien’s memories that Dexter and I have are hazy enough as it is. His, more so than mine. ”
“Because he was never meant to stick around for the long run” Hayden finished for him. “He’s just a distraction meant to get her here. After Eros is finished with us, he’ll probably be of no use to them.”
“But if he didn’t have those memories, how exactly did the extra feelings come around?” Nadia asked.
“Maybe all that time he’s been with her is reminding him of them?” Sloane contemplated. “Dexter is made from Damien, after all. He has his feelings and personality. The part of him that’s ‘Damien’ is likely keeping him from going all out with Eros’ cruelty the way Harley is and is trying to fight it.”
“Then maybe we can help him make that choice.”
“We will, but not here,” The Match said firmly.
“Then where?”
———————————-
Sometime later . . .
After taking a few deep breaths, Dexter felt his earlier annoyance dissipate at last. Satisfied that he could now think clearly, he decided that it was time to report back to Cecile. Technically this was supposed to be a quick food run. It was in his best interest not to be gone too long-
A sudden flash of white halted him in his tracks.
What the hell? Dexter stopped, blinking repeatedly until his vision became clear again. After waiting a few moments to make sure everything was fine, he started walking again only to feel a sharp sting poking through his head. “Gah-!” He stumbled forward, clutching his head as his vision started swimming with multiple images.
They flashed back and forth at light speed for a few seconds, then slowed down to a more clear picture as his mainframe seemed to process this new information.
A cargo container filled with about five people, Nadia Park’s tear-filled eyes, Hayden’s anger, Steve’s suspicion, Sloane . . . then came the background of a small office- what he recognized as the control room at the center of these docks . . . Populated by those same four people.
There were several voices, one of which sounded suspiciously like his own . . .
“He knows this is wrong, but is hesitating to do the right thing!”
“They don’t intend to keep him around for long. He’s just a distraction meant to get her here. After Eros is finished with us, he’ll be of no use to them.”
The image of the control room became clearer at that point. A video was playing on the screen, showing a facility lined with blue screens and machinery. He could only assume this was a manufacturing facility for Matches.
It was all crystal clear for him to see, as if he was actually there.
“Who is that?” Hayden was pointing to a young-looking gentleman, dressed in a blue polo and a simple green sweater, as he stood stiffly in front of Rowan with blank eyes.
In the video, Rowan folded his fingers in his lap. “Power core status,” he commanded.
The Match opened his mouth and spoke tonelessly. “Core frequency stable in standby mode. Temperature nominal.”
“Emotional check in.”
“Anticipation laced with nervousness. Positive emotions detected, including but not limited to joy and optimism.”
“Good.” Rowan nodded, satisfied. “Last but not least, do you know who I am?”
“. . . Yes, Father.”
And just like that, the anger was back. “Maya,” Dexter snarled. “You’ve really done it this time.”
——————————–
Damien’s head was pounding when he finally opened his eyes. He blinked several times against the brightly lit bulb hanging in front of him, recoiling from the uncomfortable prodding against his side.
Wincing, he reached to clutch a spot where Harley had hit him before, only to find that he couldn’t. Damien looked above him to find that his hands were separately handcuffed, to opposite ends of a metal bar against the wall.
He sighed. So it’s gonna be one of those times, huh? He took in the dark, metal walls of the cargo container locking him in. It shouldn’t have surprised him, considering he already knew they were at the docks, but it certainly didn’t make him feel any better about the circumstances.
On that note, Damien suddenly remembered that Maya and Alana were locked up somewhere else – probably tied up like this too – and a strong urgency came over him. He began twisting at the cuffs, hissing at the sharp sting in his wrists.
Come on, Nazario! Keep trying!
He tried recalling the old days at the precinct when he and his colleagues would practice getting themselves out of handcuffs. Though they were in a chair, not chained against the wall like some goddamn medieval prison. Still, there had to be something in there that would get him out of-
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Damien looked up to find Cecile and Harley standing in front of him, both of them wearing smug grins. “Cecile.”
“Damien.” She nodded condescendingly. “Glad to see you’re making yourself at home. You’re-”
“-going to be here for a while” He rolled his eyes. “Is there anything you can say that doesn’t sound like a TV show villain?”
“Show all the attitude you want, Damien. Fact of the matter is, we have the upper hand right now. You might as well cooperate and this could be all over.”
“Yeah, that’s a little hard to believe,” Damien said, pulling at his handcuffs to make his point. “Given the situation.”
“We’re not taking chances with you this time,” Harley replied. “After that stunt your crazy girlfriend pulled at the Arctic, don’t expect Father to go easy on you now.”
“That was nothing compared to what I’ll do to you if you touch her again,” Damien growled venomously. Harley’s fist swiftly connected with his jaw and he recoiled, biting back a groan when the jerking movement yanked the cuffs against his wrists. He let out a dark chuckle. “Someone’s a little salty.”
Harley looked as if he would attack again, but Cecile held out a hand, halting him. “As fun as this banter is, we have things to discuss.” Her eyes flicked to his bindings and she smirked. “You should really take it easy, detective. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“How kind of you,” He drawled.
“Funny enough, I’m actually feeling pretty generous. Now, there’s something here you might like to see.” She pulled out a tablet from her pocket, tapped on it a few times and then turned it around to show him.
A window popped up on the screen to display security footage. It was an empty hallway consisting of several rooms. The time was displayed on the bottom of the screen, the seconds counting away.
Damien was already feeling a little uneasy as he searched every detail of the image playing on the screen; not that he was about to let it on. There was clearly a purpose for this. So he just raised an eyebrow. “This supposed to be a rerun of Paranormal Activity or something?” That earned a chuckle from Harley. “I appreciate the home movie but I prefer comedies.”
“We’ll see if you’re laughing after this.” Cecile forwarded to a certain point on the video and played at a point where the inside of what appeared to be a warehouse was showing.
He first saw Nadia and Steve in the video, piling boxes into a makeshift bed, then Alana who was sifting through a small fridge, and Maya who was just coming back inside, shivering in spite of the thick uniform she was wearing.
Damien instantly realized that this was old footage from the warehouse at the Arctic HQ, where they’d been hiding the night before their escape. Then the screen paused at a shot of him, hunched over and typing away at one of Eros’ company laptops. “What exactly am I supposed to be seeing here?”
“As you can see, before you left the Arctic you’d already been snooping around our facilities for a while.” Cecile replied. “What were doing with that laptop that night?
Damien shrugged. “How else do you think we got to Paris in the first place? Booked some tickets online.”
“I can see you’re going to be difficult about this. Not that I’d expect anything less at this point. But I’ll humor you.” She shook her head, chuckling as she stepped back and crossed her arms. “We’ve been searching for someone very important to us and happened to receive some vital information on him the night before our headquarters were destroyed. But the next day, all of those memos were missing.”
Damien could feel Cecile and Harley watching him, trying to gauge his reaction. So he kept his face neutral, not wanting to give away that he vaguely knew who they were talking about.
That night, he’d been looking through the laptop to see if there was anything he could find that could be used as evidence. Along the way, he’d stumbled onto a few emails detailing someone they were looking for . . . some guy under the alias ‘Richard Cummings’, which apparently warranted ridiculous jokes about it. Based on what it said, this man had already been found by them once, only to have disappeared again to San Francisco. These were brand new memos addressed to Cecile, which Damien had taken the liberty of deleting before they could be read.
At the time, he’d thought it was just some random employee, so he hadn’t been able to look into it too deeply yet. Though he’d started to do it at some point during their excursion in Paris to maybe get some more information and get them one step closer to bringing down Eros. That was when more names had popped up. Names of people who’d disappeared soon after their projects gained popularity.
Now, Damien was beginning to think that maybe this man was more important to Eros than Damien had first realized. Perhaps deleting those emails to slow Eros down was the right call after all . . .
With that thought, he took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s because your laptops were one of the things that blew up.”
“Or maybe it’s because you deleted them first.” Harley countered. “Trying to keep the information for yourself.”
“Assuming I have this information, which I don’t,” Damien chose his words carefully as he spoke, knowing that anything Eros gave away could potentially benefit him. “Why would some random person even matter to us? You know as well as I do that with those files gone, we have no evidence against you.”
“He’s not just some random guy,” Harley insisted. “Father’s project-” Cecile placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
Bingo.
“You let us worry about that, Damien.” She said coolly. “Also, you should keep in mind that if you don’t say anything, we could always ask Alana or Maya.”
He shook his head. “Not possible. If I don’t know, they don’t know.”
“Are you saying that to protect them? Or because you kept it from them?”
Damien met her smug look with an unyielding glare. Sneaky witch.
“Now to get back to our original point, I want you to tell us what you know about Khaan Mousavi,” She said point-blank. “Whatever you’ve dug up on him in Paris – which I know you’ve been trying to do. And while we’re at it, whatever you found out about Eros when you were back in New York.”
He maintained his neutral expression and relaxed his body as much as possible. Damien had been in these situations enough times to know how important it was to keep his mouth shut.
“One of the memos we lost was one that contained his last known alias and potential locations. I want that information.”
He wasn’t sure if revealing anything was going to hurt him and his friends in any way. But it was certainly not going to help them. Eros was never planning on letting them go to begin with. It wasn’t as though he would be buying anyone’s freedom. At best, it may guarantee a temporary safety.
“All you need do is cooperate. Maybe we could work something out. It would be to your advantage considering your . . . attachments?” Harley suggested. He was pointing in the direction of the tablet where the footage was focusing on Maya, who was apparently tending to some minor injuries.
No. Do not say a damn thing.
Damien willed himself not to look at it again, keeping his steely gaze on the Match. “I would remind you again that Alana made a similar deal with you involving me.” He pointed out. “You didn’t hold your end of the bargain and she had no prior connection with all this. Why should I expect anything different?”
“For one thing, it’d save your girl a lot of trouble,” Harley snipped. “We’re gonna find this guy one way or another. Doesn’t matter who we have to break in order to do it.”
“Not if we break you first,” Damien fired back, only to receive another punch in the gut.
“Careful,” Cecile warned, gesturing at the recorded footage on her tablet once before turning it off completely. “Wouldn’t want someone to get hurt because you made a bad call now, would we?”
Damien was leaning forward, breathing heavily, slightly winded from that punch. He knew all too well what she was referencing and she was clearly enjoying it. You’re damn lucky these handcuffs are holding me back.
“Come on Damien, you’ve worked in law enforcement.” She sneered. “Surely you’ve seen what usually happens in situations like this. Just cooperate and you won’t be harmed.”
If it weren’t for his heavy leather jacket, one would’ve been able to see Damien’s heart beating erratically. He knew exactly what she was implying and it was killing him to take this risk. He didn’t give a damn about himself; Maya’s safety was more important to him than anything.
But on the other hand, this information was potentially the key to everything they were fighting for. Now that he knew he’d been onto something, Damien wasn’t about to let go of the only advantage they could soon have. All he needed was more time to dig deeper – time they would never get if he gave this up, if he couldn’t escape.
This was an impossible choice and the only two people he could turn to for help with this were the very ones in danger if he didn’t make up his mind. And fast. Damien couldn’t stand the thought of Maya getting hurt – he would do anything to prevent that . . . even if it meant keeping their attention on him, however sinister their intentions.
Before he could say anything else, the door opened and a guard stepped in, walking toward them with purpose.
“I warned you,” Cecile said, un-phased by his defiance. “Don’t blame us for being cruel from here on out.”
I’m searching for answers not questioned before
The curse of awareness, there’s no peace of mind
As your true colors show a dangerous sign . . .