Chapter 11 of The Edge of the World
Summary: Hayden, his friends and their newest ally regroup in the control room to find their friends and uncover a disturbing piece of Eros’ past. When this reaches Dexter, how will he handle it? Is it time for his loyalty to be put to test?
Disclaimer: Characters/canon belong to Pixelberry
You and us, or I and them,
There comes a time to take a stand
The wheel is watching all that keeps on burning
Hayden, Sloane, Nadia and Steve followed their group’s newest member into a small office. When they entered, they were met with a series of monitors lined up against the wall. The two guards sitting in front of them suddenly glanced up from the large bag of chips they’d been snacking on.
Hayden smirked. “Too easy.” Before they even knew what was happening, he and Steve charged in, knocking their communication devices out of their hands and then hitting them over the head.
“Hansen, report! What’s going on in there?”
‘Damien’ stepped past them and put the device to his ear, disguising his voice as best as he could. “Everything’s fine. We just had a little mishap with the headphones.” There was snickering on the other end and he rolled his eyes.
Once communication was cut off, Sloane rushed to the computers and started typing rapidly on the keyboard while the others watched the monitors intently.
They’d already been filled in that Maya and Alana were being held inside cargo containers. What they didn’t know was which one; though knowing Eros, chances were that the exact containers which were being used as cells may have had a camera.
“Guys, over here.” Sloane was staring at a video on pause. On the screen was Rowan, Cecile and a young man in conversation.
Hayden frowned at the video displaying a facility lined with blue screens and machinery. Based on what the others were searching before, he could only assume this was a manufacturing facility for Matches. “Who is that?” He pointed 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.
“Mikail Greene . . . he’s the first Match ever built.” Sloane minimized the video. “The folder is called ‘Siren Project Material: Phase One’. Didn’t Rowan mention that during our dinner?”
“He did,” Hayden replied. “Something to do with his true vision for the Matches. I just don’t know what he meant by that.”
“There are only two videos available. The rest must not be cleared for employees. Or even researchers. I looked up ‘Sirens’ and all the file’s access are limited to Cecile, Rowan and less than ten names.”
“Guess this means this really isn’t something they want all their employees knowing.” Hayden mused. “Or their Matches for that matter.” Not sure how else to continue, he pressed play to start 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.”
A small smile graced Rowan’s face and he closed his eyes, deeply touched. Letting out a happy sigh, he gestured his hand towards the door, calling for Cecile.
With a heavy hiss, the steel double doors at the end of the hall made way for her. She strode in confidently and paused next to Rowan, greeting him politely. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes. Have you been acquainted with Mikail Greene?”
Cecile looked in that direction, her expression neutral. “I . . . have never interacted with him outside of maintenance.”
“Perfect.” Rowan stood and buttoned his suit jacket, tilting his head towards the inactive Match. “I’ve set Mikail’s personality to ‘Activist’. I believe that was your result to the quiz?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Yes, but-“
“Whoa, hold up.” Nadia immediately paused the video. “I remember when Maya took the quiz and got her results . . .” She glanced awkwardly at Hayden, who’d already picked up on the implication. “Isn’t Hayden also an . . . activist?”
“. . . Wow . . .” He was scratching at his stubble consciously, visibly cringing under the weight of everyone’s stares. “I feel very uncomfortable right now.” Then he eyed Sloane. “Please tell me you didn’t know about this.”
Sloane held her hands up defensively. “I swear, I didn’t!”
“So Maya and Cecile share a type,” Match-Damien said. “Good to know.” In that instant, he could feel everyone else’s eyes shift to him. Frowning, he looked between them curiously, wondering why they were now eyeing him specifically. After all, the conversation was about Maya’s romantic preference according to Eros, which just so happened to be the same as-
He took one look at Hayden and a mutual look of horror crossed their features. Then he started shaking his head. “Nope. We’re not going down that road. Play the video, please?”
“No harm will come to you. You have my word,” Rowan promised. Then he proceeded to explain the details of what would soon be their first trial run of his newest creation. “Now, Mikail thinks you’ve gone on two dates, and now he’s visiting you at work. He thinks you work in a factory designing mannequins and that you’ve snuck him in for lunch.” When Cecile opened her mouth to speak, he raised his hand, silencing her. “I’ll be watching the monitors with our researchers, but . . . do play along for testing purposes. And feel free to pretend we aren’t there if that helps.
Cecile glanced between Mikail and Rowan, before she nodded curtly. “Of course, sir.”
“He’s testing the first Match on Cecile?” Match-Damien was watching Cecile in surprise as she approached Mikail in the video. “But she already knows he isn’t real. Though maybe that’s why she was hesitating before.” Sure enough, Cecile’s wariness towards this interaction was plainly clear from her stiff body language. Her expression was far from worried, though, hinting at mild curiosity.
“She’s skeptical, all right.” Hayden mused. “Wondering how this is going to play out.”
“They’re likely just curious if she’ll be swayed,” Sloane explained. “See how convincing he is.”
Once Rowan exited the room, Mikail began blinking rapidly – signaling that he was coming online – and Cecile inhaled a sharp breath. As he came to life, he noticed her and his once-blank expression immediately shifted into warm adoration. “You changed your mind about letting me come visit you at work.”
“You . . . seemed curious. A tour?” Mikail offered her his hand in response. She hesitated for barely a moment before accepting.
With an artificial smile on her face, Cecile led him towards the display, their hands intertwined. She showed him the ‘mannequins’ and explained their purpose, flawlessly covering every last detail embellished into the fabricated story. And Mikail just listened, enraptured, as he drew small circles with his thumb on her hand. As they delved further into the conversation, Cecile’s stiff stance gradually began to uncoil; clearly starting to relax the more she engaged with the Match.
The group watched, both amazed and disturbed at the ease at which they were carrying on this conversation. It had first started at the line of thought Mikail was programmed to be on. But now the topic had smoothly veered into Cecile’s personal life. If Hayden didn’t already know better, he would’ve assumed that they really were two different people genuinely getting to know each other.
“I’ll remember all this the next time I shop for a new suit.”
“I’d recommend the custom tailors over at East 40th Street. They have a fantastic turnaround time and basted-fitting.”
Mikhail chuckled appreciatively. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“A few things,” Cecile replied with a pleasant smile. “Like what you do for a living?”
“I’m part of the sponsorship department for Girls are Dreamers. It’s an education centric charity organization, primarily targeting girls from impoverished countries.
Hayden was shaking his head. “Do they have to go into that much detail with backstories?”
“Enhancing believability has a cruel price,” Sloane said sadly.
“For Matches or clients?”
“For both.”
“. . . paid for fancy dinners to secure corporate partnerships. Hence the desperate need for new suits.”
“Would you rather be doing something else?”
“You mean here and now, or are we still talking about my job?” Mikail asked with a sly smile that grew even more when Cecile let out a short, but genuine laugh at his joke. His eyes twinkled with delight as he continued to talk excitedly. “We provide aid for dozens of countries and I’ve visited over half of them When I meet potential donors, I make sure to have my own photos and stories, not just borrowed from someone else.”
“That’s . . . very thorough.”
“And I’m nothing if not that, my dear Cecile.”
“. . . Dear?” And once again, Cecile’s expression was neutral. “We’ve only seen each other three times.”
“I’m sorry,” he watched her carefully, apparently caught off guard. “Would you rather I call you something else?”
“I’d rather you stick to my name. Just my name.”
Mikail’s smile faltered at her curt tone. “Oh. Yes, of course. I thought I’d picked up on that.”
“Picked up on what?”
“A cold front. That you’ve been keeping me at a distance, physically, this whole time.” He proceeded to launch into an explanation of her body language while she listened, baffled. “Now you’re reinforcing boundaries out loud, and that wall you have up is even more obvious.”
Cecile’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I can respect wanting distance . . .” He said solemnly. “But just give me time and I’ll wear you down.”
Cecile immediately tried to draw her hand back, but his grip tightened. “You’re going to ‘wear down’ my boundaries?” She hissed. “That’s deeply unsettling.”
“No.” Mikail’s eyes widened in realization that he’d offended her. “Cecile, that’s not what I meant, I-“
“Let go of me,” She snapped.
“No, don’t leave me. I really am sorry.” Just as he was about to offer a more elaborate apology, the doors opened again and Rowan entered with two guards, wearing a frustrated scowl.
“That’s enough.” Rowan barked. “We programmed you to be sincere, not . . . whatever that was.” He flicked his hand out in an obvious show of disgust.
“Father, what are you doing here?” Mikail was looking between them in confusion. “You know Cecile?” His questions went ignored as Cecile addressed Rowan directly.
“I’m guessing his sincere protocol is clashing with logical. He’s overthinking, though not quick enough to recover. And his desperation makes him . . .” She turned to Mikail, her lips curling into a disdainful smirk. “Frankly, quite pathetic.”
Mikail’s face crumpled at her words. But when the two guards approached them, all of that was forgotten. Much to everyone’s surprise, he immediately stood in front of Cecile protectively. “I asked to come here! It’s not her fault. And if any of you lay a hand on her, I swear . . .” His voice trailed off when Rowan’s response to his threat was a derisive chuckle.
“At least the rebel traits come through nicely.”
Rowan and Cecile exchanged amused looks when Mikail started demanding to know what was going on. As if on cue, the guards seized Mikail so forcefully that his feet lifted slightly off the floor. He tugged away from them, though his eyes were still on Cecile.
Rowan gestured forward permissively and Cecile stepped up to Mikail, sneering at him. “I’ll give you a hint, ‘my dear’. You and those mannequins are more alike than you think.”
He glanced at the mannequins, then regarded Rowan and Cecile in turn. “I . . . I’m one of them aren’t I?” The ramifications of what she’d just said became clear to him and the color slowly drained from his face. “It’s . . . it’s all coming back to me now.” He swallowed hard. “You’re going to wipe my mind again aren’t you?”
“I was hoping you hadn’t caught on yet.”
Fear instantly replaced his earlier confusion and he began to shake his head desperately. “No. Father, I’m sorry. Please don’t take me away! I don’t want to forget.” The guards began to drag him out of the room and he struggled harder. “No! I can do better! Please, let me stay. Give me another chance . . .”
Rowan’s lips twisted with contempt and he grabbed Mikail by the chin “None of my children have, or will ever be associated with failure. And that is what you are.” He stepped back, jeering at the now-terrified Match. “Take this thing away from me,” he spat.
“No, please!” Mikail kicked and begged for mercy as the guards hauled him away. Now alone, Cecile watched as Rowan paced the room, opening and closing his hands into tight fists as he breathed heavily. Then he suddenly stopped in front of a chair. Fuming, he took it up and flung it across the room with a loud roar. The subsequent shatter of some random computer screen in the corner was lost on him as he closed his eyes in frustration.
Cecile came from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder. “We’re almost there, Sir.” She reassured. him “Don’t give up.”
When the video ended, Hayden’s face had paled. “That was awful,” were the only words that could come out of his mouth. Weeks ago when he’d almost been repurposed, he’d remembered the moments before that was to happen – strapped down to a table, alone, cold and scared. The memories were foggy, but clear enough that he’d been able to tell Maya what happened. It was scary enough for him having fragments of this one moment, but to be able to remember how many times this had happened and knowing he’d have to endure it again?
“Wait, but what about what Rowan said about making Mikail think they were on a date? Like he was supposed to win her over…” Nadia wondered. “Did they test Matches with scenarios like that every time?”
“If they did, at least they had the so-called ‘decency’ to try and wipe out their memories.” Match-Damien muttered.
“No, nothing about Eros is decent.” Hayden vented. “Being evaluated like this and then tossed aside? Did you see the way Mikhail was begging them not to take him away?”
“I can’t believe I used to work for them.” Sloane put her face in her hands, thoroughly sickened. “And proudly too.” Even if she knew what it meant to repurpose a Match, seeing it happen and wondering if other Matches had experienced fear like this was breaking her heart. If not anyone else, she especially knew that if she didn’t bring Eros down, this guilt would weigh her down forever.
“Don’t feel bad Sloane, you couldn’t have known.”
“No one knows about this. That’s why they’ve been able to get away with it!” Nadia seethed. “For all his big talk about improving humanity, Rowan doesn’t have any! He wants to make a new species? He doesn’t even see them as people to begin with!”
“He doesn’t even see humans as people,” Steve said gravely. “I mean, look what he’s doing to Damien and Maya. I guess it’s not that surprising.”
“Lab rats,” Match-Damien spat. “That’s how they’ll always see us, deep down. After everything we do for them. Then he slammed his fist against the wall. “And to think that I was going to help them-!”
“Well you’re not, anymore. Speaking of which,” Nadia turned to him. “Did any of this get through to Dexter?”
“Loud and clear.”
———————
“Lab rats. That’s how they’ll always see us, deep down. After everything we do to them.”
By the time the feed disappeared, Dexter’s head felt like it was going to explode. Not from shock, though. No, it was that this wasn’t news to him. Unlike most of the Matches under Rowan’s custody, Dexter was well aware of Rowan and Cecile’s true intentions.
What he hadn’t known was what it had taken to make this ‘family’. The way Mikail’s personality had been tailored and tested on a person, only to unravel and then be taken back to be recycled. Dexter knew this was a common practice in Eros. But seeing it was a whole other experience.
How was that possible though?
Where were these new visions suddenly coming from? Who the hell is messing with my head now?! And it still hadn’t explained why these foreign memories with Maya were plaguing him every time he tried to obey Eros’ commands, no matter what his alter-ego’s conscience was trying to tell him.
Accepting his role in this was the safest option. But now, any doubts he’d quashed earlier were resurfacing once again and putting him at a bigger risk of being discovered. All because of these goddamn emotions – every instinct of his dissuading him from doing every heinous act that would’ve earned him endless praise from Cecile or Rowan.
And it was all her fault.
“Maya,” Dexter snarled. “You’ve really done it this time.” All plans of reporting to Cecile vanished and he found himself heading back to the prison he’d visited. He shoved the door open with a loud BANG! and marched inside, zeroing on Maya and Alana’s looks of surprise.
In a flurry of movements, Maya’s handcuffs were unlocked. But before she could say anything, his hands were gripping her shoulders, hauling her to her feet. “Dexter?!” She yelped when he pushed her back against the wall, pinning her there. “What the hell are you-?!”
“I should be asking you that,” he growled, peering directly into her terrified face. “What the hell kind of thoughts are you putting into me?!”
She gaped at him, flabbergasted. “Thoughts I put in you- are you crazy?!”
He tightened his hold, drawing a pained gasp from her. “I want you out of my head. Can you do that?” A white haze began seeping into the corners of Dexter’s vision and then he felt a light twitch in his arms.
“Do what?!” Maya placed her hands on his chest, struggling to push him away. “Dexter, please!” her voice was suddenly very small as she squirmed. “Y-you’re hurting me!”
As soon as she said that, he caught a glimpse where his hands were and immediately released her, noting when their tingling stopped. His face burned with frustration and he clenched his fists, trying to ignore the nagging ache in his chest that had just started. “I don’t understand . . .” He blinked several times and shook his head until he could see clearly again.
“Don’t understand what?” Maya’s soft voice brought him back to reality. Dexter turned to find her watching him curiously. “What is it you think I’ve done?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. When he opened them again, they were smoldering. “For god’s sake, I have a job to do and you’re getting in the way!” He exclaimed hotly. “Every time I try to get things done, you and your goddamn memories with Damien start getting in my head! And now your friends!” She was staring at him, wide-eyed, as he let loose all of his frustrations; a drastic switch in their dynamic from earlier when she’d been the one ranting at him. “How the hell did you do that?! I spent all this time with you and it’s not like you know how to access a Match! What the hell are you trying to play at here?!”
“I-” Her brows furrowed as she was clearly trying to navigate Dexter’s sudden change in mood. Not that that should’ve been a surprise considering the heated conversation they had not too long ago. “I didn’t do anything,” she finally said, glaring at him. “These aren’t thoughts I put into your head!” Maya stepped forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You were made from Damien to fool me, remember? That would mean you’ve had his memories!”
He looked away from her pointedly, mentally kicking himself for forgetting that. “Obviously to make me realistic enough so you’d believe,” he said bitterly. Not that it explains the constant palpitations and headaches! “But that doesn’t mean I need to see every goddamn detail about your relationship!” Dexter yelled in her face, causing her to stumble back.
“Watch it, Dexter.” Alana warned. Her eyes were mostly on him, assessing his behavior curiously. She then shot Maya a brief look, urging her not to panic.
“Every drink you’ve shared, every conversation, every cheesy line you’ve used on each other. All the times you’ve kissed.” Suddenly, Dexter cupped her chin, though gently this time. His voice was thick with emotion. “And worst of all, every damn feeling. Every emotion.”
Maya was staring resolutely at him, various emotions flashing in her eyes; fear, confusion, shock, realization and . . . pity? “I . . . I didn’t know.” She blinked, completely unafraid. “Does . . . Harley know about this?”
He certainly suspects something. Though why that idiot was just now noticing was another question. Dexter was built from the psyche of Damien Nazario – world’s biggest skeptic. It was only natural that he’d inherited more than just Damien’s looks – his intelligence and thought process too. They were likely blessings in disguise for Rowan, as he would’ve used them to make him as efficient as possible.
Only now this blessing had turned out to be a curse, considering Damien’s emotions had tagged along like some sort of package deal. They went against everything Rowan was planning for the Siren Project. All for his ‘better world’.
And his world didn’t permit him these ‘feelings’ or any sort of identity for that matter. He had a command to follow, quite literally. A few swipes of Cecile’s damn tablet were all it took to access Dexter’s maintenance mode and install codes that had decided his actions.
“What’s the matter, Dexter? Having second thoughts?” Alana taunted. Dexter immediately noticed the position he was in and stepped away from Maya. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Isn’t your mission technically accomplished now that we’re trapped here?” She raised an eyebrow. “What’s the story now?”
“Story? How long have you got?” He scoffed, blinking rapidly as he tried to force down another memory her tone seemed to trigger within him.
“We’re not Rowan or Cecile, Dexter. Or Harley. You can be honest with us.” There was an unusual softening in Alana’s voice as she studied him. “Though I suspect you already know that. Don’t you?”
“Fine. You wanted honesty? I’ll give you some.” He let out a resigned chuckle. “Every moment of our relationships, my job on the force. All of these memories are tools that were to be used against you.” He turned back around to face Maya. “By me, and another Match – and I’ll let you in on a secret – it’s not Harley.”
“Another clone?!” Maya said incredulously. “Are you kidding me?! What, were you not enough for the job?”
“Given how easily you’ve fallen for their tricks before, is it that surprising that they’d try this again?”
Maya shook her head, disgusted. “You realize they’re just using you at this point, right? First it was just to get me here, and now they’ve gone and built another replacement. Not so fun when it’s happening to you, is it?”
“Well lucky for you,” Dexter turned to her, smirking as he knew exactly how she was going to react to what he was about to say. “That copy never made it here, thanks to your friends.”
Her head snapped up to face him. “What?! How- how do you-” Dexter tapped at his forehead, a knowing look on his face, and then it all made sense to her; everything from their conversation to his outburst.
“I’m technically obligated to just report this to Cecile and get them all sorted out . . . but now I’m starting to wonder if a different approach might help. They do have another android with them now, one that can be put back under Eros’ control.”
“No.” Her eyes immediately widened with fear. “Dexter please don’t hurt them. If not for the others, at least think of Nadia!”
“And why should I care about her?”
“Because Damien does,” Alana pointed out.
He shrugged. “Fair point. But I’m not Damien.”
“No, you’re not. But he happens to be a part of you,” She replied. “You believe what he believes, think the way he thinks. Can that part of you live with innocent people being hurt? Has it ever?”
“Innocent?!” Dexter scoffed in spite of himself.
“Yes, Dexter,” Maya kept her head up as she spoke, more determined than before. “She’s innocent. All of us are. We only ever wanted to live our lives peacefully!”
“If that’s the case then why are you sabotaging Eros? Couldn’t you have just moved on with your lives when Hayden and Steve disappeared?”
“We would’ve . . . if we were a greedy corporation that doesn’t give a damn about the people it creates.”
Before he could try to argue, Mikail’s desperate face suddenly seemed to flash before him with Rowan’s harsh, cold voice echoing in the corner of his mind.
“None of my children have been or ever will be associated with failure. And that is what you are.”
And just like that, he was left with no answer.
He was instantly jerked out of his thoughts when he felt her small hand slip into his. “Dexter, please think this through.” She clasped his hand, gazing into his eyes, pleading. “I’m . . . I’m sorry for how I lashed out at you before, but now that I’ve had time to cool off . . .” Her eyes briefly flitted towards Alana, who gave a subtle nod. “I do remember you’ve been finding little ways to help me. You might’ve kidnapped me, but you’re also the only one who hasn’t actually hurt me.”
Is she serious? Dexter shook his head. “But I did hurt you, Maya. And I’m probably supposed to hurt you some more.”
“Supposed to, being the operative word.” She didn’t even waver. “But you won’t.”
“Oh really? And what makes you think that?”
“I think you already know.”
Dexter could only watch her in astonishment, not noticing the long shadow advancing their way from the entrance.
After everything he’d done to her . . . she was really willing to make a gamble like that? How could she still have so much hope? Where was all this coming from? Just what is your heart made of?
Had it still been yesterday, Dexter might’ve been compelled to set her straight. But now after everything he’d seen over the past two days, after everything he’d witnessed through his installed memories and through the eyes of the other Match . . . he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Whether it was from his recent ‘symptoms’ or his actual beliefs, he didn’t know. All he could do at this point was realize that something within him had changed, and accept that there may soon be a reckoning.
When Dexter finally began to speak, his expression was wounded. “I-”
The sound of slow-clapping made them both jump apart. “Well, well, well . . .” Maya and Dexter stepped away from each other, to find Harley sauntering towards them. “This is an interesting turn of events.”
The venom works, it’s like a curse
A Trojan horse, when will we learn
The wheel embodies all that keeps returning