Doppelganger

Chapter 5

270 dozed on the couch, drifting into sleep and then waking herself up to look at 494 or glance at the TV he had turned on claiming that if she was going to snooze, he was at least going to do something productive. She didn't think that watching TV counted as productive, especially when all he did was watch music videos.

She rolled the name he had proposed around in her head, playing with it and trying to see if it fit her. Back at Manticore, they hadn't been allowed to call soldiers anything other than their designation. Names were strictly against the rules, and besides, only betrayers and runaways had names. But wasn't she a runaway now, sort of?

Playing with the corner of the pillow, 270 flicked her eyes toward 494. He was so...different. Of course he couldn't be the broken down soldier she saw in Isolation, but this man sitting in the red chair watching poorly-made music videos, he wasn't Manticore. Yes, he had a barcode, but he didn't act like Manticore had owned him for his entire life, had trained him into a killing machine. He even had a name now, one that he preferred over his designation. But designations were good, and names were bad. Only betrayers and runaways had names... 270 closed her eyes and buried her face into the pillow. Why was everything so difficult in this world?

When she woke up again, her side aching, she realized that there was another scent in the room besides hers and 494's. It was a warm scent, like oranges, cinnamon and daylilies, all delicately mixed together with an odd overlay of the smell of motor oil and hot water. Another person, the Max person, must have come in while she was sleeping. 270 kept her eyes closed and tried to evaluate the situation by listening to them talk.

"...chicken and cookies! She's an injured little girl, you ass, you can't just feed her junk like that."

"She eats out of dumpsters. I don't think this stuff's going to hurt her." Someone picked up the plate near her head and walked away, heading toward the kitchen. The other, lighter pair of footsteps, which 270 guessed belonged to Max, followed 494 into the kitchen. The plate clanked against the other dirty dishes in the sink.

"Look, I called Logan before coming over here," the female voice said. "He thinks he can call in a favor and get someone to take her up to Canada next week. That'll give her time to heal up before she goes." There was a pause and then a quiet sigh. "Poor kid."

"Where's she going to go when she gets up there?"

"Logan says he might be able to track down Bullet and the others. She could stay with them."

"Huh. That's great."

"Hey, at least she'll be with someone. They'll take care of her."

"Those kids are probably living in a shack and making meals out of pork rinds and honey buns," 494 said. "Can't your boyfriend find her a family to live with or something?"

"He's not my boyfriend," the Max woman hissed, "And no one's really jumping at the chance to take in a transgenic kid right now."

"What about that farm your brother's at?"

"Are you serious?!" She sounded mad, and 270 picked up on the twinge of pain in her voice.

494's reply sounded like he was sorry for suggesting it but still thought it was a good idea. "Yeah, well, they already took him in, and she'd help out around the farm too, I guess. She'd probably like it there."

"Alec, they're already in danger since Zack's there," Max said. "They can't take her in too. Besides, if Zack saw her barcode, something might click in his head, and he'll come after Logan again."

"I thought he wanted to be with you, not Super Savior," said 494.

"Don't call him names," the woman said, "And don't talk about things you don't know anything about."