**
Monday morning Mr. Hansen called Hugo into his office. He was waiting at his desk, hands folded on top of the wood.
“Have a seat,” he motioned to the chair before him. Hugo sat down, nervousness suddenly fluttering in his stomach; something was odd about how this meeting was starting. “I’ve been reading your reports, they have been very informative, but I called you in here to see how you’re doing.”
Hugo leaned back in the chair, shrinking down a bit, “Why?”
“How do you feel about what you’ve been doing since you joined this company?”
What was going on? Why did Mr. Hansen suddenly care about his feelings? Had he done something wrong? Was he doing the wrong thing entirely, was this about Mr. Gideon? “What do you mean?” He couldn’t filter out the wariness in his voice, it stuck there, nervous and spiteful.
Mr. Hansen’s expression didn’t change, and his tone remained inquisitively conversational, “Responses to the new environment you’ve been exposed to. Consciously taking another person’s life, wanting to do so. How do you feel about it?”
Hugo’s mouth fell open. This was not Mr. Hansen, Mr. Hansen didn’t care how he felt about killing people, just as long as he got the information gained from it, and that was fine, he deserved nothing more. “I…why are we having this conversation now?” Why not when he needed it? He didn’t need to talk about these things now, he was over it. This was just the way things were.
“Please just answer the question,” his voice was calm, lifeless.
Hugo focused on the table Mr. Hansen’s hands were carefully folded on top of. Did Mr. Hansen want him to lie or be honest? Which meant which? “I feel terrible about it…for the most part.”
The reply was simply curious, “For the most part?”
“The duplicator. I don’t feel bad about killing him. I wish…" Hugo's attention briefly returned to Mr. Hansen's face, but there was no telling emotion, "...I’d done more.”
“What do you mean?”
Hugo paused, staring at his hands for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain how he felt about Edvard. “I wish I’d made him…understand what was happening to him,” torture, he wished he’d tortured him. He was a monster. Mr. Hansen didn't respond for what seemed like a very long time to Hugo, “Why are you asking me these questions?”
The silence continued, and Hugo had begun to contemplate repeating the question by the time Mr. Hansen finally spoke again, “Because you’re depressed, self destructive, and it’s partially my fault.”
Hugo blinked rapidly a few times, holding his breath. Guilt? This was about guilt? But what did Mr. Hansen have to feel guilty about, and why now? Had someone…had Dr. McFadden talked to him? “How is this your fault?”
“I should have addressed this issue sooner, and I did not because of my personal feelings.”
“You’re not my…you don’t have to…" Hugo shook his head, "I’m not your responsibility. There’s no reason why you should think that.”
The speed of the response gave Hugo the impression Mr. Hansen hadn't even heard him, “Let me show you something.”
Hugo slid further down in the chair, and then he was standing on a green field at the edge of a playground. There were lots of little kids, but two of them somehow stood out from the rest. Brothers playing in a sandpit. They were building a lopsided castle, laughing and shoving each other for the limited tools to build their masterpiece.
As Hugo walked towards them, he could hear from all around him, in Mr. Hansen’s voice, My brother and I were very close. He was my best friend.
Hugo bent over, touching the castle with his fingertips. It was slightly damp and grainy, but the boys didn’t seem to notice he was there. He watched their eyes follow each other across the castle. Then the sky started to darken and storm clouds rolled in. Hugo looked up and when he brought his attention back down, the boys were men and they were talking. Their tones were civil and low, but the tension in their bodies betrayed the argument.
They were discussing William’s experiment. Andrew accused his brother of changing; he didn’t even recognize him anymore. They separated, each one seething. William wandered off into the darkness and Andrew opened a door to Mr. Gideon’s office. Mr. Gideon welcomed him in and Hugo followed, the door quietly shutting behind them. Mr. Gideon was sitting with Maggie, both of their expressions still and serious. Hugo watched as Maggie shifted at Andrew’s entrance, her eyes falling downwards.
“Andrew, I was hoping I could speak with you. Maggie has some troubling news," Mr. Gideon motioned towards one of the over-stuffed chairs across from him, "Please, have a seat.”
The anger in the lines of his face were gone, replaced by a growing terror, as if he knew what was coming next. He didn't sit down.
“Andrew…” Maggie said almost breathlessly, keeping her focus on the floor.
Mr. Gideon briefly laid his hand over Maggie’s, but returned his attention to Mr. Hansen, “Maggie has been kind enough to monitor the test subjects for me, and she learned something she was uncomfortable keeping to herself. Maggie?”
The auburn-haired clairvoyant finally looked up at Mr. Hansen, “Your br…" her lips pursed for a moment, and she returned her focus to the ground, "William, he plans on turning the world into a hive-mind to eliminate conflict, and he’s confident he can do it. He wrote…” she pressed her lips together, her expression pained.
“You see, Andrew, this is a problem. I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something about it.” Mr. Gideon seemed both distraught and firm in his conviction.
Andrew nodded very slowly, his expression completely blank. The hands stiffly at his sides were shaking, and Hugo wondered if the effect was for his benefit, or if it was some remnant of the memory Mr. Hansen was showing him. “I’ll take care of it,” Andrew’s voice was flat, almost casual, but his hands were still shaking.
The world dissolved around them and Hugo was back in Mr. Hansen’s office. Hugo's back hunched as he tried very hard to melt into the seat.
“The person you killed,” Mr. Hansen finally continued after several seconds, “was not my brother. And you saved an untold number of people doing what I was unable to take care of myself. I would have liked to speak to him again, not that I think the conversation would have gone very well," there was a hint of amusement, but it faded even before he continued, "but I understand the constraints you were under. You did what you had to do, even if you didn’t want to, even if it wasn’t in your nature, you did what you thought was right.”
“How is it right? I’ve killed people, you're supposed to go to prison for that,” Hugo almost choked out the words, “but no one seems to care that I have.”
“I wouldn’t say no one’s cared,” Mr. Hansen’s voice was neutral.
Hugo's hands balled into fists, “But everyone just acts like it doesn’t matter. Is there something wrong with me? Is there something I’m not getting?”
“You don’t see what people do in private,” the man responded, his voice full of sadness.
Hugo sucked in a breath, eyes falling to the hands in his lap. In private. What he did had consequences that no one showed him, they were pretending it was ok. He did what he thought was right, which was ok, but his methods were devastating and everyone was just pretending otherwise. Hugo laughed a little, still staring at his hands, “Man, I’m dumb.”
Mr. Hansen smiled a little, “You are an exceptionally bright young man, but that doesn’t mean you can predict everything. You just try the best you can, but remember that you're not doing it alone.”
Hugo nodded slightly, staring at the carpet, “Ok.”
Mr. Hansen leaned away from the desk, his smile brightening some, “Now, I think you should take the rest of the day off. Go do something fun, no working.”
He nodded again, still staring at the carpet, “Ok, thanks.” Hugo stood, and stepped out of the room.
He had a voicemail message, CJ had called him.
“??
?Hugo…” and then there was a loud thump and the sound of running water in the distance.
Hugo opened a portal to the security office before the message finished playing. “Can you trace CJ’s cell phone?” The two technicians in the room were still gaping at his abrupt entrance when he asked the question, and he had to ask it again before they started moving.
“Yeah sure, give me a moment.”
Hugo shifted. He didn’t want to yell for them to hurry, but they were really taking too long. He called Maggie.
“Hello?”
“Find CJ!” His heart was racing. He didn’t want to be bossy but CJ had tried to call him, tell him that something was wrong and he hadn’t been there.
There was a brief pause as Maggie adjusted to his tone, and then complied. “She’s…in a sewer, but I can’t tell where. Um…I can’t tell…she’s lying down…”
“We have a location,” the technician announced. He quickly rattled off the coordinates, and a moment later the room filled with a gust of wind and Hugo stepped through.
CJ was curled on the ground, several rats carefully prodding her. He squatted down, putting his hand under CJ’s nose, instantly thankful to feel the warm moisture across the back of it. She was breathing. That was a start. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries, she seemed to be sleeping, but he was already opening another portal to the medical wing. He dragged and pulled her up onto the bed and ran into the hallway. Crysta was in her office. She almost asked him what was wrong, but he was already creating a portal back to the room and pulling her through.
“She was on the ground. I found her, is she ok? Please tell me she’s not poisoned or dying or something,” he kept talking, running through a host of things that could possibly be wrong with her from every medical journal he’d ever read, but the doctor was not listening to him. She was conducting her examination, quickly taking a blood sample.
She glanced outside of the room, and seeing no one, she carefully set her hand on CJ’s forehead, “She was given a sedative. A very high dose.”
CJ’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at the both of them in confusion, and then she quickly sat up, her eyes darting around the room. Then, when what she was expecting to see wasn’t there, her back relaxed and she let out a sigh.
“What happened?” Hugo asked.
CJ jumped at his tone, then looked to the side. “Nothing," she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest.
“CJ, tell me what happened. Who did this to you?” His tone was sharp, he could tell, and CJ was obviously embarrassed, but he was having trouble breathing and he was going to kill whoever did this to her. CJ just sank further into the bed, her eyes on the ground. “Tell me!”
“Out,” Crysta commanded, pointing towards the door.
“But-”
“Out. I will handle this,” her tone allowed for no argument.
He hesitated, but then quickly left the room, slamming the door shut. He paced outside. What if it hadn’t been a sedative? What if this person had been trying to kill instead of capture her? It was probably the Agency, he’d asked them to stay out of their way, and they’d tried to capture CJ. Had almost been successful, but she’d probably run away at the last moment, falling into the sewer where they couldn’t follow. He was going to tear down their building. It was his fault, she should have been with him, and he should have been looking after her. If he had been, this would never have happened and he hadn’t answered the phone.
Crysta stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. She looked up at Hugo and he instantly stopped moving.
“Why did you make me leave?”
Crysta shook her head, “You were scaring her. She’s embarrassed about what happened.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
Crysta sighed a little, “I know. But I thought it best if I handled it.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, she ran into Scott. I guess he was at the meeting you had with the Agency?” Hugo nodded. “Well, she decided to talk to him, just to find out more about what they were doing. She got in the car with him, he offered her some coffee, I’m assuming the sedative was in that, and then when it didn’t work on her abnormally high metabolism, he tried to shoot her with one of those darts. But he missed. In a car. I’m not sure how, but that got her to move. She turned into lightning, fell through the car, and when she turned back to call you, the sedative caught up with her and she passed out. Her pride is a little hurt, but she’s fine.”
He was going to destroy them.
“Hugo…” Crysta had a hand on his arm, “Wait. Now just wait. I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t know-” she stopped as the phone still clutched in Hugo’s hand vibrated. It was Clem.
“Is CJ with you?” The man asked, a touch of worry in his voice.
“Yeah, where are you?”
“I’m back, let’s talk. You’ll want to hear me out before you go anywhere,” Clem replied, a hint of warning to his voice that actually made Hugo pause, despite the swelling rage.
“Fine,” Hugo hissed in return.