“The answer to my question. We’re fucking screwed. My law career is over before it even starts. Just listen to this shit:
“...found traces of steroids, barbiturates and methamphetamine in his system at time of arrest. Side-effects of long term use present, including damage to synapse of brain tissue. There is significant scarring on the surface of the brain both from drug use as well of a volatile strain of syphilis that was present at the time of his capture, but has since recessed. Psyche analysis indicates, though does not confirm, that he is the clinical definition of a true sociopath, whose morals are so skewed from the social norm that his definitions of right and wrong are unclear, perhaps even to himself. At times he is seen referring to himself in the third person, the first person and, on rare occasion, in the second person. He seems to be aware of the passage of time but also experiences shifts where he seems to forget or misplace events chronologically. Physically he is the peak of human stamina and endurance, though there are concerns that major muscles will start to throw clots soon after a long period of inactivity...
“I mean, really,” Xander huffed, closing the folder. “How do you argue with that? That’s just... I have no case. I don’t even know why I’m trying.”
“You think that’s bad?” Mike frowned, picking up the green folder again. “Give this a listen:
“...Drew, Xander. Found at the wreckage of what police had dubbed ‘Engen’, Drew was once believed to have had ties in the mob by the late agent Carl Dent. Although Tim White has ordered these charges dropped, they are still speculated upon. It seemed that the only victims were people that had gotten in his way, and now the same pattern has started again. Even though Drew was completely exonerated for the crimes because of Genblade’s confession, now that Genblade wishes not to die, it seems he may yet reveal that he was working for Drew...
“...Unbelievable.” Mike sighed, throwing that folder on the table next to the first.
“Yeah,” Xander agreed, “But sadly not that far from the truth.”
Mike put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, before I forget. About today...”
Xander raised a hand to stop him. “S’okay.”
“No, I - -”
“Really. It is.”
Mike nodded, then snickered to himself a little. “I still don’t know why the Womb didn’t kill me. I mean seriously, of all the dumbfuck things to do, right?”
Xander chuckled forcefully, the sound slowly dying down as his face grew taught. His eyes become hollow and vacant for a brief instant, then sparked to life as he tilted his head to meet Mike’s gaze.
“What is it?” Mike frowned, laying down his folder.
“What was it the Womb said to you?”
“Huh?”
“It said something. What did it say?”
“It didn’t say anything. It just kind of stood there and looked... weird.”
“Not today, the other night. It said something to you, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. Said I’d already been harvested, or some such thing. Why? What difference - -”
“And he told Cathy she wasn’t good enough, right?”
“Right,” Mike nodded, dragging out the ‘i’ as long as possible.
Xander was silent for a moment, stroking his chin. “It never did that before.”
“What?”
“Spoken. It’s never spoken before.”
“Sure it has,” Mike scowled, rolling his eyes.
“When? What has The Womb ever spoken, except for the words ‘Black Womb lives’?”
Mike opened his mouth to answer, then paused, and closed it again.
“Any time. Ever?”
Mike leaned forward, rubbing the sides of his nose with his thumbs. “No. No, it’s never talked before.”
Xander brought the nail of his thumb to his lower lip, picking at it obsessively as he thought. His eyes were locked on some random spot on the wall, not looking at anything but refusing to look anywhere else all the same. “Why would it change?” he huffed, thinking back to the day that Genblade had been captured. He’d almost smiled at Xander from across the mounds of rubble and police between them, and said ‘it’s not over’. “Is this what he meant?”
“What?” Mike moaned, looking up.
“Nothing, just... nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair, a few strands shaking loose as he tugged on it. “This whole thing just keeps getting worse and worse.”
“Makes you wonder, really,” Mike mumbled, almost to himself.
“Wonder what?”
“Humans change their behaviour. Animals don’t. Animals hunt the same way, day in and day out, until something forces them to change. Even then, not really. So if the Womb’s changed the way it does things, that’ d make it - -”
“Human,” Xander finished, a bitter taste in his mouth.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
CRANE
Joan scrubbed the tables of the Factory, the tiles sparkling clean.
The chairs and booths were empty now, the harsh light of dawn shimmering in through the cracked and broken windows near the ceiling.
She pumped her arm fiercely for one more moment before looking down at her reflection in the table. It frowned back at her with almost perfect clarity, marred only by the brown tint of the varnished wood. She’d been polishing the same table for nearly three hours, ever since the last customer left.
She heaved a sigh, casting a glance over her shoulder at the front door. It hung open just an inch, letting cool fall air into the humid steel box that made up the building. It moved just a little in the wind, shuddering on its steel bolts for a moment before settling back down into place. She turned away from it quickly, closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip so hard that it drew a faint sliver of blood. After a moment, she gripped the sides of the table so hard that her nails left indents on the
