After the Second Fall Pt. 01.1

"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 the young man had ever known. Even if she did believe him, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that one of Dr. Jacobs' 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 understand 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 comes up again 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 trainee 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 -- that's why I stopped taking on new charges after my last one was killed."

"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 trainees?"

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 one getting killed in a training fight. Eventually, Pip will have to either join the pool or quit, and I've already told you that the second choice isn't an option he will accept. 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 well-past eighteen years old 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 Pip will need me 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?

Chapter 4

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Rosie," responded 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?"

Ruth stopped in mid-stride and turned to her subordinate. "No, that's not our job," she replied, causing Rosie to let out a breath, clearly relieved, "but it is a nice perk," Ruth continued with a smile.

"Seriously? How is that even physically possible? I mean, unless their, uh... parts are not, er... proportionate?"

Ruth snorted aloud, covering her mouth to try to stifle the noise. Rosie's look, showing that she was clearly not impressed, made Ruth laugh harder so that she had to step back to lean against the wall. Rosie watched a tear roll down Ruth's cheek, and felt her own face grow red. "Stop it, please. I'm really scared, and I still haven't gotten a straight answer." It was fortunate that Rosie hadn't stomped her foot with indignation, or some other equally juvenile expression of frustration, because Ruth would have really lost it and ended up sitting on the floor.

Ruth regained her composure, eventually, and opened up her arms. "Come here, Rosie." The young lady obeyed immediately, happy for a chance to hide her embarrassment in the older woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to laugh at you. You just looked so cute and petulant: it was priceless. Thank you so much, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."

"Happy to help," came Rosie's muffled reply, her face still buried.

"I know," said Ruth as she pushed the young woman to arm's length and looked at her. "Honey, that's what we're doing today. I'm going to show you how to take care of the Adams' needs, but it's not really about the... intimate parts. Our job is to make sure they're well cared for, and to keep them at peak performance. This might be giving a massage, or administering basic medical treatment, or just helping them change dressings -- they're always beating each other up."

"But I don't know how to do any of those things properly!" Rosie exclaimed with frustration. "That means the only thing I'll be useful for is a getting them off. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but the only thing that will have changed is that food here is better than when I was on the street." Tears, the painful kind, were starting to roll down Rosie's cheeks.

"Rosie, listen to me. We're not prostitutes, and anything that happens is consensual. As for how to do the rest, that's what I'm here for, as well as the other ladies. For example, we have girls that are really good at things like massages, and so the Adams know to ask for them. We'll find where your gifts are and then we'll build on them. No two of my ladies are the same, and that's a good thing." Ruth paused for effect. "So you don't need to worry about being a well fed harlot."

Rosie smiled through her tears, despite herself. After a calming breath, she wiped her face on her sleeve, "Okay."

"Good. Now let's both get cleaned up so we look our best for the Adams."

"Um, Ruth?"

"Yes, Rosie."

"What's your specialty?"

The older woman smiled and said, "Actually, I'm good at everything," then headed off down the hall.

A quarter bell later they stood in front of the first room. "So we just stop by any room we want?" asked Rosie.

"Not quite. Of course, you're welcome to do as you like on your own time so long as it's not disruptive, but in general we have a set schedule. Since we're here to serve the Adams, they have a lot of input into who visits them and when, but they tend to be creatures of habit, so it's pretty straightforward. Each morning, at seven bells, you'll come to the Lounge and get your route schedule. I expect that it will be quite a while before you do solo rounds, though, so you'll be accompanying different ladies as they do theirs."

"Uh, Ruth, what if things get physical during their rounds?"

"That's to be expected, Rosie -- we are the Physical and Emotional Therapy department."

Rosie folder her arms, "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Ruth smiled, "Of course -- I was just teasing. If things do take a turn toward the sexual, you're welcome to either excuse yourself or join in, but that's really up to you."

"Seriously?"

"Always," replied a smiling Ruth. "Enough questions for now; the best way to learn is by doing, so let's step in."

Ruth knocked on the door, two quick raps, a pause, and then a third. A raspy voice made a grunt and Ruth led the way inside.

The room was reasonable in size: roughly six strides across and twelve in length. The floor was dark gray concrete and the walls light gray block, lending it a vaguely military vibe. On the right end as she entered was a very large bed and an accompanying end table with lamp. The other side of the room contained a round table with two chairs; one of the chairs was enormous, clearly intended for the Adam, while the other was a more typical tall chair like would be found at a bar. In the middle of the room, against the back wall, were assorted clothes hanging from a single rack higher up than Rosie could reach if she jumped. The only other personal effects Rosie noticed were a wide red ribbon wrapped around the nearest bedpost and a somewhat worn picture of a young woman on the side table by the bed. The Adam was half laying down, and quickly came to a stopping point in whatever comically undersized book he was reading.

"Hi, Ruth. Who's the new girl?"

"Hello, Max, this is Rosie." Turning to the younger girl, she completed the introduction, "Rosie, this is Max. He's one of the more experienced Adams here. I thought this would be a good, safe place to start."

Max laughed. "I like that you see me as safe, Ruth. I don't hear that very often."

"Why not?" interjected Rosie.

Max smiled and set down his book and swung his legs off the bed. As he rose to his feet Rosie noticed that the ceiling was especially high, more than three times her height, and Max would probably hit his head if he were to jump. Wherever she could see skin, Max was nearly covered in scars. Looking more closely at his face, Rosie saw that his right eye was entirely white and that the left corner of his mouth didn't seem to open all the way when he talked. "Oh, I see."

Max laughed good naturedly. "I thought you might. Do you play chess?"

"Excuse me, what?" responded Rosie, caught off-guard.

"Chess. It's what Ruth and I usually do when she stops by."

Rosie turned to Ruth, "But we're PETs. What does that have to do with chess?"

"Remember I said that we take care of the Adams? Sometimes that means keeping them company. Max here likes to lose at chess."

"Hey!" Max responded. "I don't always lose. I won twice last week."

"How often do you two play?" Rosie asked.

Ruth looked pensive. "I come by every day and we usually play four or five games..."

Max spoke up, "Don't let her innocent act fool you, Rosie; she's more ruthless on a chessboard than I ever was in the Arena."

"Was? Do you still fight?"

"Not the way I did. Not after I lost the vision in my eye: too hard to see attacks coming, and my depth perception is gone. That's probably why I lose so much to Ruth."

"Ha!" exclaimed Ruth. "You were always terrible at chess, even with two good eyes."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, now I mostly help train the pool Adams, analyze fights afterward -- that kind of thing."

"I'm sorry to hear about that, Max," said Rosie. "I'm sure you must have been quite something. Did you win most of your fights?"

Max gave Rosie an odd look, then looked to Ruth.

"Rosie," started Ruth, "Max fought for our city, not just here in training arena like you saw earlier. In the real matches, someone nearly always dies. Max is here so he had to have won."

"Oh," said Rosie. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry if I offended you, Max."

"It's no problem, it just surprised me a little. Did you grow up Rieckenburg?"

"Yes, sir -- in the Fourth Quarter."

Max nodded. "That explains it. I've never been there, but my guess is that you've been in more fights than I have."

"Yeah, maybe," Rosie replied, enjoying the friendly banter. "So, chess?"

"Absolutely." Max made it across the room in four easy steps, seating himself at the table; he pulled a slightly oversized chess set from a drawer Rosie had not seen. "So who is on the chopping block first?"

"Not me, please," said Rosie. "I don't actually know all of the rules."

"No problem. Since I only have two chairs, you can watch me destroy your boss from the best seat in the house."

"And where is that?" asked Rosie.

The Adam smiled and patted his thigh. "Right here, of course."

Despite her initial misgivings, Rosie enjoyed the visit, sitting on Max's lap and watching her supervisor beat him repeatedly. In defeat Max was anything but gracious, constantly making up excuses, including how Rosie was distracting him with her unceasing wiggling, but it was all in fun and had the ladies laughing regularly.

When the bell tolled, the two women prepared to take their leave. As they stood by the door ready to say goodbye, Max dropped to his knees, now only slightly towering over Rosie, and held open his arms. Rosie gladly stepped into the embrace, finding she could barely reach under his arms, but hugging him as best she could. "Thanks, Max -- see you around?"

"I hope so, Rosie."

Ruth's hug from Max was a little more personal, ending with a kiss and a brief whispered conversation. When they stepped out of the room, both women were smiling.

Walking to the next appointment, Rosie said, "He's a great guy, isn't he?"

"The best."

"Is it a big deal that he won a real match?"

"Yes, Rosie, it's a very big deal, and Max won four fights."

"That's a lot, then?"

"The most ever for our city. He really is the best."

Rosie was silent, contemplating her part in this complex machine. "Thanks for introducing me to him, Ruth."

"You're welcome, Honey. Ready for the next one?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered with a smile.

Chapter 5

Once again in the Complex Council chamber, John concentrated on breathing steadily and trying to keep his anxiety from showing. He had given up following the details some time during the first bell, because he was simply too preoccupied with the pending discussion concerning Pip -- or rather, the discussion that he hoped would concern Pip.

At last John's topic of interest was brought to the table. All of the Council members had taken time to watch the fight replay, so the recap was very brief, followed by various directors giving their assessments. Dr. Shepard was again present, but was only asked to describe the injuries sustained by the victorious Adam, the one called Topper. "Nothing extraordinary for a pool Adam fight. In the general area of interest there was some bruising, but nothing beyond that. Furthermore, the one relevant strike did not land in the target location; even if it had been harder, the desired result would not have been achieved."

After the doctor it was Director Humbolt that spoke, recounting his debriefing with Topper. "It's not exactly abnormal that I would do the fight debrief, but it's not common either; Topper was understandably surprised. Even so, it was evident that he was entirely satisfied with the result, as would be expected given the lopsided victory.

"What's more, when I asked if he thought there was anything remarkable about the way that Mitch -- that is, the other Adam -- approached the fight, Topper told me that a disproportionate number of strikes were coming from his right hand. Consequently, Topper purposefully shifted his stance so that his left foot was moved slightly back from typical in order to force Mitch to overextend if he continued to favor that hand, which he obviously did."

"And your assessment?" asked Director Baker, clearly concerned about the outcome of his newest project.

Director Humbolt managed to sneak an apologetic glance to John before starting, "Not good. We already heard from Director Baker that his team determined trials with trainees will be inconclusive, given the expected difference in bone density. We also have three Adams out of training until they heal from the tests that made that conclusion possible, as well as the fatality. Of course, none of this is much of a surprise, but the complete inability of a pool Adam to achieve the objective is extremely discouraging. In my opinion, it is entirely possible that there is something here, but I would recommend a much more passive approach."

"Such as?" asked Director Baker.

"Show the Adams what happened and train them how to exploit that kind of opportunity, like we do with other vulnerable points. However, the danger I see is that an Adam misses a good opening because they're waiting for a perfect one. We would need to make it clear that hitting this spot is a once or twice in a lifetime thing, and not something for them to be chasing."

Director Baker folded his arms and sat back in his chair, disappointed with the assessment, but unable to find fault. Director Jacobs, pleased to have his opinion confirmed, also sat back, but with a much more relaxed posture. The Council was silent for several moments as the directors allowed room for dissenting opinions.