CELL

/ FORTY FOUR /

Familial death can be heartbreaking. It's not only painful for those leaving us. Those left behind can also suffer. Ryan felt for the doctor. Briefly.

Then he recovered.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but that changes nothing."

"No, I didn't think it did. I'm not telling you for sympathy, and I wouldn't expect it. I'm saying it purely to show you we're all human. We all experience loss. We all have a stake in what we're doing here. We could even, possibly, have saved your wife and child."

Wasn't that just a kick in the bollocks? Firstly, she tried to bring her own mother into the conversation. When that didn't work, she thought mentioning Brioni and Clara would work on him. She couldn't be more transparent or ineffective.

"You don't get to speak about them. Do not mention them."

Bradley nodded, slowly.

"Of course. I'm sorry, but I need you to understand. We could, potentially, have saved them."

"If you say so. Why didn't you, then?"

"Because..." She paused and frowned, then shook her head. "Their injuries were too great. They had already passed when we got there."

"Fuck you. You should have left me there with them."

"We couldn't. We don't refuse anyone we can help."

"You didn't help me. You took me for your sick experiments."

"Look, believe what you wish. The clock is ticking."

"Tick-fucking-tock. I don't care about your timetable."

"Perhaps not, but it isn't my timetable," she said. "It's yours, and your time is up."

She swept her hand in a broad arc, as if presenting something with a flourish. It stopped with her pointing towards the other Ryan. His body began to tremble. His eyes opened wide, then began to bulge. His mouth opened as if screaming, but only a faint croak could be heard. His eyes suddenly burst and, as the trembling became more violent, blood oozed from them.

Ryan couldn't feel the obvious pain the other him was experiencing, but felt he should have been able to. Its absence emphasised the other's suffering, and he clutched the edge of the vat.

"Make it stop," he said. Then, louder: "MAKE IT STOP!"

"It's too late," Bradley said, with genuine sounding emotion in her voice.

"Make it fucking stop!"

Ryan lunged, spun her and put his arm around her throat.

"Now!" he insisted.

All guns were instantly armed and aimed at him, but Bradley raised her hand to stop them from being fired.

"We can't," she said, calmly. "You activated it too soon. It's not ready."

"What is that meant to mean? Just do it! You tell me you can perform miracles, so prove it. Show me! SAVE me!"

"Ryan, that's not you, not yet."

He squeezed, applying pressure to her neck. She made a choking sound, but still waved her hand as Pedra stepped forwards.

"Of course it's me. Just look! You know it is!"

"It isn't, Ryan," said Pedra, lowering her gun. "Not yet. It hasn't matured enough."

"You're bullshitting. You've cycled me too many times. You're fucking lying!"

"Ryan, let Dr. Bradley go. Let her explain. And just look!"

He looked. He had no choice. Other him, whatever Pedra said, was writhing in the liquid. Vein-like threads were appearing all over the body, thickening. There were still no real sounds coming from the mouth - even though the 'person' was obviously Ryan, he couldn't think of it as either a 'he' or 'it' - which only made the scene more intense. The skin started to split along the limbs, and blood leaked out, quickly turning the water red.