After the Second Fall

"Smartass," replied John without anger. "Listen, I think it might be caused by adrenaline. Or maybe fear, but that would be harder to test. So I want to try to get you all amped up and see what happens. Are you game?"

"Sure -- I'm all for doing something fun. What do you have in mind?"

John smiled broadly. "I was thinking about finding something that goes really fast. I want to grab a couple bikes and head over to that flat stretch of road on the East side of the city. I've already called the Meister's Office and they're shutting it down so we can play a little. Wanna see how fast the bikes can go?"

"Damn straight, I do," replied a broadly smiling Pip.

Less than a bell later they were sitting on their bikes at the agreed upon road. The bikes themselves were sized appropriately to fit their riders, but were otherwise similar. The machines were a purely functional matte gray without adornment. The seats and handles were black; the electric motors a flat white. Even so, the riders looked damned impressive to the crowd that had gathered, towering over the officials speaking with them and dressed in their black protective gear.

Introductions and instructions completed, the men dropped their visors and started their first pass at roughly half speed, as agreed upon. All too quickly, at least for Pip, the reached the curve at the end of the run.

"Having fun?" John asked, smiling.

"S'ok," replied Pip. "I thought you said we were going to go fast."

"Suits me. Three quarters this time? I'll set the pace and you keep up."

"Much better -- let's do it."

Moments later the bikes sped past the onlookers, whose numbers were steadily growing as word spread.

"Better," asked John.

Pip shrugged. "Eh. I guess so."

"Really?" asked John, genuinely surprised. "I started to lift off my seat by the end." Pip just shrugged again. "Alright, hot shot. You set the pace this time, and I'll be right behind you."

Pip smiled and nodded, then dropped his visor again.

Their next pass left the crowd stunned and John gasping. "Holy shit, Pip. I didn't really think you'd open up the throttle all the way."

"Yeah, that was much better."

John was incredulous, left momentarily speechless. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. I liked that quite a bit. It's neat to hit the end of the throttle, but I wish it could go a bit faster."

Shaking his head, John replied, "Nope -- I'm out. You can do the next one on your own. If I repeat that, I'm going to shit myself, die, or maybe both." Having made up his mind, John took off his helmet and hooked it on the seat behind himself. "Damn kids these days -- don't have the sense the Lord gave them.

"Wait until I'm down at the other end, and then you can take another pass."

Pip watched John ride away at a much more reasonable pace, and an idea came into his mind. Without his handler close by, there was no one to tell him what to do, so before John reached the end and saw what he was doing, Pip took off his helmet and set it aside before shucking his reinforced jacket. Smiling to himself, Pip remounted the bike and looked down the long stretch of road, watching his mentor. The instant John's foot touched the ground, Pip cranked the throttle and took off, hitting the bike's limit as soon as he was able. He was having so much fun that he actually had to lock up the brakes to stop before the fast approaching curve, leaving long trails of black on the otherwise grayish road surface.

When he stopped less than an arm's length from an open-mouthed John, he was smiling as much as ever in his life. "Now that was fun," enthused Pip.

This time, John failed to come up with any words as he stared at his ward. For his part, Pip continued smiling and started to rock his hips slightly side to side, clearly very pleased with himself. It didn't help that the spectators were cheering loudly.

John eventually decided it was best to just let it go. "Well, did time at least slow down for you?"

"Nope -- not even a little."

"Damn - I guess that rules out fear and adrenaline."

Pip smiled. "No, just adrenaline. I wasn't scared."

"Seriously? You were just going who knows how fast, without any safety gear, and you weren't scared at all?"

"Nah. I'd already seen the road going that direction once so I knew what to expect, and I'm comfortable on the bike. Why would I be scared?"

"Oh, I don't know," said John, his voice raising to a shout, "because a tire could blow out! Or you hit a rock! Or a gust of wind hits that oversized head of yours!"

Even though John was obviously pissed, Pip still felt great about having fun and pulling one over on his handler at the same time. "Yeah, didn't occur to me. At least we had fun, right?"

John just shook his head and let out a dramatic sigh, "Damn kids."

Gathering himself, John started again. "Alright, Pip, so what do we do now? I thought this would check both boxes, but since you're apparently a speed freak, we'll need to come up with something else."

"Another fight?"

"That's what I thought, but what if it doesn't work? You might get your head knocked in. No, we should try to come up with something else."

Pip shrugged. "You're supposed to be the brains, John -- I just follow orders."

"Yeah, whatever. Let's go grab your gear and then head back." When Pip smiled, John quickly interjected, "and no more full throttle. Without your helmet especially, keep it at half or less, understand?"

Pip nodded and took off, still smiling. John's concern was justified a moment later when Pip started riding a wheelie down the road, waving to the crowd as he went, going faster than John would have felt comfortable doing either. "Damn kids."

Late that afternoon John was again sitting in his office contemplating the Effect, and more specifically, how to trigger it. Pip had shown himself to be fearless on the bike, largely due to a combination of reckless youth and arrogance -- what's worse, if he was honest with himself, was that John admired Pip's good-natured bravado. Even so, to amplify the experience further would likely lead to a significant injury or worse. So what to do?

Unfortunately, John's low key brainstorming session was abruptly interrupted by Lilith Collins, the Director of Public Relations. "What the actual fuck?" she yelled at him without preamble as she stormed into the office. "Were you trying to get him killed in front of all those people?"

Always fiery, Director Collins looked to be in a particularly foul temper. Although her head only reached John's midsection, Lilith Collins was a formidable woman, widely perceived to be both brilliant and ruthless. Knowing that direct confrontation was never the best approach with her, John chose to try semi-ignorance. "Who, Pip? Are you talking about us taking the bikes out?"

Director Collins didn't respond verbally, but her look told John that a different tact was immediately necessary.

"Okay, okay," acquiesced John, deciding semi-truth might work better. "It's really not a big deal. I wanted to test Pip's fear response, so I thought going fast would be a good way to do it."

"Without a helmet? Are you fucking serious?"

"Hold on a minute, Director," said John holding up his hands. "That wasn't actually my idea -- that was Pip's doing."

"But you let him!"

"Uh, actually, no. See, we decided to, uh, actually open up the bikes all the way and..."

"You what?" She was now shouting at him. "You were going full throttle on race bikes? On a public street?"

"Well, yes. When you say it like that it does sound like a stupid idea, but..."

"You think?"

"Director, please, hear me out.

"I really needed to test Pip's fear response, and I thought that would be a reasonably safe way." The director huffed loudly, but John kept going. "I didn't expect we'd be going that fast, but Pip wasn't even breathing hard with the last pass I led, so I let him choose the speed on the next one and he opened it up all the way."

"Without his helmet?" she responded, clearly not impressed.

"No, no. He had his helmet on at that point. But, after going that fast, I'll admit I may have been a bit shaken afterward. I told him he was on his own for the last pass and went back to where we started. No sooner do I get there and he's screaming down the road, no helmet, no jacket, looking like he's having the most fun he's ever had. I was about ready to kill him myself, but he was just grinning like a self-satisfied idiot." John shrugged. "Kids: what are ya gonna do?"

"I don't know -- maybe act like an adult. Do your job. Keep your Adam from killing himself. Any of those would be a good start."

"To be fair," John started, knowing he was about to test Collins' limits, "Pip's fine. More than fine actually. It's like he's on top of the world. My only real concern is that he's going to try to push the limits in the future, and is eventually going to bite off more than he can chew. But that's not necessarily a terrible trait in an Adam -- Pip's smart, aggressive, and damn near fearless."

Director Collins threw herself down into a chair, letting go of some of her righteous anger. "Did you at least accomplish what you wanted to do?"

John smiled and shook his head. "No, the punk wasn't scared at all. All of that for nothing, huh?"

Collins let out a long sigh, tilting her head against the chair back and closing her eyes. "Alright. What's done is done, but do you understand what a disaster it would have been if either of you crashed. Even if it wasn't fatal. Especially Pip."

"Thanks, Director Collins -- I'm touched by your concern for my well-being," John said sarcastically, but without malice.

"Look, Mr. Rogers -- hell, can I just call you John?"

John shrugged; being on a first name basis with a director was not usually a bad thing. "Yes, ma'am."

"Look, John -- you're a big, good looking guy." John puffed up his chest. "But have you seen Pip?" John deflated, hanging his head in mock defeat. "Knock it off -- you know what I mean.

"I don't know if you noticed then, or have seen the recording the reporter made, but there were a lot of women along that road. When he went flying past without his helmet, I bet any one of them would have thrown themselves at his feet if given the opportunity. I mean, he looks like a classical statue come to life. Plus, he's crazy and reckless. And then he takes time to ride past them again, showing off and waving. He's like a perfect mix of bad boy and good guy, at least from the outside. Get it now?"

"Yeah, I guess," said John. "I know all of that is objectively true; it's just not something I worried about. Do I need to start? Should I keep him in the Complex?"

"Actually, I'm thinking quite the opposite." John's eyebrows raised without his being aware of their behavior. "I think he should be the face of the Adam program."

To this John couldn't help but laugh: a full, deep belly laugh.

"Stop it! It's not funny," said Director Collins defensively. "It's a good idea."

It took a little while, but John settled himself. "Director Collins-"

"Please, call me Lilith."

"Oh, okay. Director Lilith-"

"Knock it off."

"Sorry, couldn't help myself. Lilith, listen -- Pip is as far from a typical Adam as it is possible to be while still being in the program. You couldn't pick one that was less representative of the others."

"I know," she replied confidently, "and that's why I want him. Humor me for a moment and you'll see what I see. Describe an Adam for me."

"Well," he said thinking about it, "big, strong, smart."

"And?"

"Well... intimidating?" he said, thinking back to the earlier hallway conversation with Rosie.

"Yes, but not just intimidating. Scary. Really fucking scary, in fact. You might not see it because you're so much bigger than everyone in the entire city, but for a woman that only reaches to their waists, I shudder at the thought of being alone with them."

"Okay, sure, but they'd never hurt you."

"First, you know that there have been incidents, even deaths." John reluctantly agreed with a nod. "And second, even though I know that intellectually, it's still hard to make myself believe it completely. What's more, that's me -- I've been around the Adams for years and years. Picture normal mom-on-the-street, coming across an Adam. She'd run away screaming -- no doubt in my mind."

"Alright, I agree. So what is it you want with Pip?"

"Nothing bad. No stunts or anything like that, but I do want the city's people to see him more, get to know him, and through him the program."

"Ma'am -- er, Lilith -- do you really think that regular folks are ready to see what goes on here? I mean, they already know -- intellectually, like you said -- but are they ready to really understand that the Adams purposefully, almost gladly, kill each other? How are they going to react?

"How will they react when the golden boy gets killed?"

"These are good questions, John. The truth is, I think you're right on both accounts, so we won't let them see the fights. Furthermore, Pip just won't fight any more."

"What?" John exclaimed, rising from his chair. "Do you know how hard Pip has worked to stay in the program? He's been given dozens of opportunities to bail, and has passed on them all. Telling him that his dream -- no, his purpose in life -- is over, that may well kill him."

"You think he feels that strongly?"

"With certainty. He doesn't look like it compared to the pool Adams, but Pip's a born fighter, and he'll do amazing things if given the chance."

"What makes you so sure?"

This question, while both simple and straightforward, put John in a very difficult position. To tell the director about the hypothesized Effect would mean putting a huge amount of trust in a woman he didn't know very well. This could easily make him a target of ridicule, or even lead to his removal from the program or the Complex itself. In addition to ending the only career he had ever envisioned for himself, it would also leave Pip without the only handler he'd known. Even if she did believe him, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that one of Dr. Shepard's medical colleagues in R&D would dissect his charge to find out what was different.

"Call it a gut feeling. I've known Pip his whole life, so I know him better than anyone. There's something special about him, and I think it's on the verge of coming out."

Lilith folded her arms. "Gut feeling, huh? I don't buy it. I think there's something else going on, and I want you to tell me what it is."

John sighed in genuine defeat. "Director Collins, I can't." She started to interrupt but John barreled on, "not yet."

Lilith paused, her arm still raised. "Okay, fine, but when are you planning to level with me?"

John looked directly into her eyes, letting the intensity of his feelings show through. "You know how the fight earlier played out? And what it means for the proposal that Dr. Shepard brought to the Council?"

Lilith nodded. "It means the magic bullet doesn't exist; but we all suspected as much anyway."

"Well, ma'am, I don't think that's actually the case. At the next Council meeting, when the topic arises for discussion, Director Humbolt will propose that Pip be allowed to fight one of the pool Adams, to demonstrate the strike."

"What?" asked the shocked woman. "Why on earth would we let that happen? Pip won a fight against a superior opponent, but there's a big difference between a pool Adam and the one he killed. He doesn't stand a chance -- you'd just be sending him to his own death."

"Yes, ma'am. That's what Director Humbolt said as well, but I'm certain he has a legitimate chance."

"Does this have something to do with that stunt on the bike?"

"Yes, ma'am, it does."

"And it was so important that you were willing to risk Pip's life?"

"Well, as I said, I don't think he was really in that much danger; but yes, it is that important."

It was rare that Lilith found herself truly surprised, but John's statements definitely did that. "I suppose you want me to go along with Director Humbolt?"

"Yes, ma'am, I would appreciate that very much. I was hoping Director Humbolt would be able to make convincing arguments on his own, but having an ally on the Council can only help."

"So let's say that Pip gets his fight, and it turns out you're wrong. He's dead and your career is probably over. What then?"

John took a deep breath. "To be honest, when Pip's run is over, so is mine." John held up his his palm to forestall the pending objection. "I said earlier that Pip is a poor representative for Adams, and I didn't just mean physically; he's the smartest I've known, and he has an actual personality. He really doesn't fit the mold.

"Keep in mind that I've been with the Adam program my entire adult life; hell, my father was an Adam and my mother worked here at the Complex. I don't think I could be the handler for another rubber stamp Adam -- not after Pip -- it wouldn't be fair to my new charge."

"I see," said the director. "What about my plans for Pip? You think it's worth risking them for a gut feeling?"

"Ma'am, I fully respect what your department does, and why it is so critical to the program. It keeps the public behind us and also ensures we have funding." Another deep breath and John started again, "but in the end, it's a lot of window dressing for the actual content: the true ability of the Adams. What I'm talking about -- what I think we have in Pip -- it has the potential to fundamentally change what we're doing here. So yes, I think that's worth the risk."

"So why not just let Pip fight one of the immature Adams?"

John shrugged. "Honestly, I think the end result would be the same, and it's not like the Council is going to give more weight to a second immature Adam getting killed in a training fight. Eventually, Pip will have to either join the pool or resign, and I've already told you that he isn't going to quit. Pushing off the fight is only going to delay the inevitable.

"What's more, additional practice isn't going to help. He already has near perfect form, definitely the best in his class. The only reason we held him back was to give him time to get bigger, but he's passed eighteen years now and should be in the pool anyway."

Director Collins was silent for a while. "Alright, John, you've made your point."

"So you'll support Director Humbolt?"

"We'll see. Council meetings have a tendency to go in unexpected directions."

John exhaled the breath he had been unconsciously holding. "I understand. Thank you for hearing me out -- I know it's hard to swallow."

"You're welcome." With that, she got up to leave, but as she reached the door she paused. "Listen, John..."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I like the way you think. Regardless of what happens, I'd be happy to have you in my department."

"Thanks again. I hope that won't be necessary for a long time, but I appreciate the offer."

She smiled and nodded. "Good. And please, feel free to stop by if you need a sounding board. If things work out my way, we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other anyway."

John watched her leave, contemplating how much more complicated things had become in the last several days. What's more, he may have just picked a fight on Pip's behalf, and they still didn't know how to trigger the Effect, if it even existed in the first place. Why had he argued so hard? Oh well, he thought to himself, what's done is done.

Chapter 4

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Rosie," replied Madame Bower as they walked toward the Adams' living area.

"I'm not quite sure how to ask, but what exactly is Physical and Emotional Therapy? The other ladies have been very, uh, circumspect when I ask. I've been trying to get a straight answer for days, but all I seem to get are giggles and winks and sexual innuendo. Is our job to have sex with the Adams?"