The Game 4
Edited by Karen Leigh
Baines wasn't quite decided.
Passivity was not Baines' style but it was a weapon in his arsenal. His looks allowed him to cast himself as an innocent babe lost in the woods any time he wished and ever since the car pulled up beside him that had seemed to be the way to go. He regretted telling the man named Mulder his full name but the sight of the man with his face had rattled him somewhat. In any case, none of his danger bells went off, he was up for adventure, the man, Mulder, was gorgeous, and he had wanted to find out about the man with his face. These thoughts were what had gotten him into the back of the car without incident. Mulder crawling all over him was an added bonus, it looked like the choice of male or female had been made for him. He'd remained silent, listening and learning as Skinner took a call and the one named Mac 27 Number 902 started issuing orders. They'd changed directions so fast that Mulder had slid into his lap. When the car stopped and everyone got out another man/thing with his face leapt off the car roof. Baines began to tense but Mulder took his arm and pulled at him so Baines followed along quietly, maintaining his innocent persona until they entered the apartment and his bells started trembling in earnest. He took in the room, its layout and the men milling around in it. All of them except Mulder and Skinner wore his face. The door remained open and the sound of music got the attention of one of his duplicates. The man patted him and said something reassuring before leading him out to a delivery truck. He helped bring in several large warm cartons and then edged back to the door and remained beside it. He watched the differing interactions around the room, beginning to get some idea of what he was facing, when his eyes met those of the young man who had paid for and was now unpacking the food.
When asked the first direct question in what seemed a long time he took a moment to run through his options before moving up to take a plate. The young man smiled brightly at him and said "I'm Ricky, Ricky Caruso, FBI."
Baines, deciding to hold back just a little, smiled back and said "Leigh, Leigh Baines"
Ricky's smile slipped a little and he looked Baines up and down. "What are you? You are packing at least one weapon, you move like a soldier or an assassin."
Baines shrugged, widened his eyes and smirked. "Lt. Baines"
Ricky laughed and the both turned to piling their plates.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Ryan looked at Number 55 and sighed silently when he noticed that the android was looking at him with those big eyes again. Suddenly, conversation seemed like a good idea, "Don't you want to join your ... ah ... colleagues."
"No, Ryan Simms."
Number 55 had looked away when he spoke. That was different enough to convince Ryan not to take the simple answer at face value. "Why not?"
"My auditory systems are operating according to specification. I can hear their conversation from my present position."
Excellent hearing then. Ryan could pick up some of what the new android said; he sounded a little nervous talking to One. But One, who was doing most of the talking, spoke in a lower, intense tone that was difficult to hear over the sounds of serving and eating massive quantities of food. "That's all well and good, but don't you want to participate?"
"I am a farming unit. I have no experience with tactics and strategy."
Sounded reasonable, but something was nagging at Ryan. Something in the sidelong glance Number 55 sent his way. "You could learn. Seems like you're going to have to with the way things are shaping up."
"I will learn by listening, Ryan Simms. I will stay in my current position."
This time, Number 55 didn't look at Ryan. He looked at Ricky. And Fox and Walter. And the other guy whom Ricky didn't seem to know. Nodding to himself, Ryan said, "Okay, you stay here. I want to ask Ricky something."
Number 55 fell in step beside Ryan. When Simms stopped and looked at 55 questioningly, Number 55 quickly asserted, "I will accompany you, Ryan Simms."
"55, I'm just going to ask Caruso a question."
The android looked skeptical, and 55 came closer to blurting than Ryan had thought possible. "Ricky Caruso is a desirable human. One has had sexual relations with him. Two of the humans who have just arrived show changes in physiological parameters when Ricky Caruso is near that my programming suggests are indicative of sexual desire."
Ryan stared at 55 for a moment. "We need to get you some tiramisu. Chinese/Italian food doesn't sit well with you."
"I do not understand, Ryan Simms."
"55, I'm not attracted to Ricky. Okay?"
"Why not?"
The android had a way of asking difficult questions in such a simple way that Ryan consistently found himself trying to answer. "I don't like guys." Go lightly here, Simms. "Ah ... as a rule. And he's already in demand. I've never cared much for competition in a relationship, even just for casual sex. So I have no intention of disappearing into the bedroom with him. Go and learn something from One; I'll be back."
Number 55's facial expressions were amazing. Fascinated, Ryan watched the interplay of emotions, dismayed by the pain and fear he saw underlying the others. Finally, 55 nodded and turned away. Ryan's convictions that 55 should spend time with other Mac 27s took a beating in the thirty seconds or so that 55 had taken to make his decision. "I didn't mean to hurt him," he murmured to no one in particular. But whispered good intentions didn't make the guilt go away.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Fox looked closely at the plethora of identical men before him and found his mouth watering. He glanced at Skinner. The AD looked preoccupied, worried. It wasn't too often that he had an X-File thrust right under his nose, if he got involved; he usually came in at the end and cleared up Mulder's debris. And Alex Krycek's face too... Fox knew that Skinner thought the world was sometimes too small for even one Alex. From unguarded remarks he'd heard, Skinner had been pretty freaked when he'd met Caruso for the first time.
Still, Skinner wasn't his problem; Mulder was welcome to the fallout from today. Humming happily but tunelessly, Fox slipped un-noticed into the bathroom. He knew he must be pretty rank, he'd been at work, then there'd been the scuffle with Baines, and a lengthy, stressful drive around Washington. He stripped, and entered the shower. There was no doubt it was going to be a long, exciting night, and Fox wanted to be as fresh as a daisy when the fun started.
Caught up in a daydream as he washed, he didn't notice Mulder creeping out of his bolthole in the recesses of his mind and re-assuming control of their body. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the vanity mirror, toweling his hair dry, that he realized he wasn't performing the movements.
Hey, Spooky. That's not fair. I wanted to party, why should you have all the fun?
Mulder spoke out loud, as if his reflection were Fox. It was a habit they were both had, when they were alone. "I'm not staying here. Jeez, Skinner's out there, and Ricky, and a whole heap of other guys who look just like Alex, and probably have a similar taste in men." He thought about the two who were all over each other on the couch. "There's going to be an orgy. If I get out now, I may be able to salvage my reputation with Skinner. I think I could have coped with just Ricky, but after your behaviour with that robot... Tin Man was right. Gross. Both of you."
He was putting his clothes on when there was a rattle at the door, and he opened it to find Tin Man standing just outside.
"Mulder," stated the android.
Well at least he doesn't think we're Skinner any more, remarked Fox.
"I wish to use this room. Are you vacating it shortly?"
"You need to pee?" blurted Mulder, curious as always.
Tin Man looked down his nose at the human, and said in superior tones, "I wish to pray. This room is quiet, and equipped with a secure door. It is suitable for a period of quiet communion with the Supreme One. The others require my intercession, spiritually. They are contemplating copulating with animals, polluting their bodies with fleshly essences."
"Copulating with animals!" exclaimed Mulder.
Tin Man smiled patronizingly. "My apologies. I should have said humans, but as far as I can see it is one and the same. My brothers are misguided, led astray by the corruption and evil wiles of your society."
"Er.... I - I totally agree," stuttered Mulder, his mind boggling at this insight into electronic theology. "I was thinking about passing on the copulation myself and heading home. My apartment is quiet - why don't you come with me and pray there."
'And I can call the Gunmen over to dismantle you, and find out how you tick,' added Mulder to himself.
Fine by me, Spooky, interrupted Fox. The guy would probably kill all the fun, anyway. Dump him there, quick, and get our ass back over here as soon as you can.
It was only a matter of moments before the two had sneaked out past the feasting crowd, and were on their way to Mulder's apartment
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Alex Krycek's plane landed at Dulles, and he had a strange feeling of deja vu. How many times, in how many other universes had he done this? As they taxied in to the disembarkation area, he puzzled again over the cryptic e-mail he'd received.
He pulled the Palm Pilot out of his pocket again, and re-read the message.
"Alex. You'd better come home. It looks as though someone has stolen your face."
The message was anonymous, from one of those irritating hotmail accounts that allowed one to beat the hackers. He'd just have to wing it. He stood as the doors opened, and slung his flight bag over his shoulder.
Home again.
That was a strange thought for a displaced soldier of fortune to have, but he would be so happy to see Mulder again. He stretched - a tall, lean figure in black, and made for the exit.
Back at last on US soil, he presented his passport (It said he was one Richard Woodcock, from Oklahoma City, back from a holiday in France.) and collected his bag. Customs permitted him to pass by without apparently noticing that he was different. Maybe nobody had looked in his eyes. He thought that he wore his occupation like a badge of office, visible for all to see. He passed through, and out into sickly daylight. It was going to rain. Oh, good. Swiftly he hired a car, and turned it in the direction of Alexandria. He'd start at Mulder's apartment. If anything weird were going on, that would be the focus. It always was.
Alex Krycek popped the lock of number 42 for the bazillionth time in his chequered career. He liked to think of this apartment as spook central. The man who lived there was certainly spooky enough for anyone. Pushing open the door, he drifted inside, smoke on the water could not have moved more lazily, or more casually, but there was purpose there behind his laid back attitude. If there were people running around wearing his face, Mulder would be sure to know of it. Mulder was always on the lookout for his face. Mulder desired him. He knew that. He could tell at a glance that there was no Mulder in the vicinity, and a couple of his fish were floating again. Alex sighed, and fed them, knowing full well that there was no point in the empty gesture. His mission of mercy completed, he moved to Mulder's computer and booted it up to scan his e-mail and his database, in the hopes of identifying some information that might help him begin his search.
He amused himself momentarily by circulating a couple of unfounded rumors regarding Scully's sexuality around the JEH Building, and then settled down to read all of Mulder's personal correspondence.
He hadn't realized that it was quite so late. Almost 3:00 a.m. He wondered if Mulder was away on assignment, or if he was just out on the tiles. Well, far too late to try for a hotel tonight. He prowled through to where Mulder's waterbed lay in wait. Then he slid out of his clothing and into Mulder's bed. It smelled of Mulder, and that was good. He fell asleep with the scent of Mulder around him, and his dreams were good.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Ricky noticed Mulder leave with the odd antisocial Mac 27. He had tried to catch Fox's attention before he headed for the guest bathroom, but the man had just shot him a smoldering gaze and continued. When Fox came out, he had seemed a different man. The brief look that Mulder had shot his way when he returned had disconcerted Ricky. The brief glance seemed almost hostile in contrast with the man that Ricky knew.
Baines followed the direction of Ricky's puzzled stare and remarked, "That's an odd duck. Pretty, but different."
Ricky laughed at that. He said, "Well, we're birds of a feather, but you know, if you meet many of us clones, it's a pretty good argument for environment over genes. We're all so different. I mean, we do have things in common, but we're not just duplicates of one another. We like different music. Our values vary. About the one thing that we all share so far as I know is that we all tend to seek active work. I've been a cop and now I'm in the FBI. Alex told me about one guy who was a prize- fighter, although he works in rehabilitation now. Drinking problem. One of us leads mountain climbing expeditions for a living. This other guy is a professional thief. You're a soldier. And Alex is..." Ricky couldn't help his smile. He couldn't get enough of his double.
Ricky's eyes slid over to Number 55, who had somehow persuaded Ryan Simms to spoon-feed him tiramisu. Clever android...
A heavy hand fell on Ricky's shoulder as he stood to get a taste of his favorite dessert. He looked up into the scowling face of Walter Skinner.
Walter proclaimed in stentorian tones of authority, "We have to talk. Alone."
Shit, Ricky knew that flirting wouldn't work when Walter was in this mood. He squared his shoulders to follow the man into the bedroom.
Walter shut the door and, ramrod straight, blocked escape with his back. He asked, "Ricky, what the hell is going on? How can you sit out there with three things that claim to be sentient robots and yet another identical twin and act as if it's normal?"
Ricky shrugged and replied, "I fell down the rabbit hole the day I met Mulder and Alex. But, you know, I kind of like it here. You just have to relax and adapt. You know, as Fox says, explore extreme possibilities."
Walter pointed out, "Mulder claims he doesn't even know you."
Ricky didn't like that at all. He said, "Then he's either nuts or he's lying or both. But, Walter, fuck Mulder. Look, those androids need our help. They have one group trying to exterminate them and another who seem to want to use them. Maybe it's because they look like me or they look like Alex, whatever... I know I have to help them. They are intelligent. They have feelings, independent consciousness, and all the qualities of life except reproduction...and if that's a necessity, neither of us have made the cut so far..."
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Leigh watched Ricky being led off by Skinner. He picked up a plate and casually strolled around the room listening in on conversations. He went over what he'd learned from Ricky about the man named Alex who, according to Ricky, was the original. There was something odd about the man named Mulder as well. Skinner was a known quantity, Baines had met many men like him; ex-marines who wore their training as other men wore clothing. It was beginning to look like he wasn't going to score tonight but food had put a different complexion on his thoughts. He had identified the clones and marked the androids mannerisms for future reference. It sounded like he was going to get a chance to find thousands more of them, along with a number of clones. The clone Ryan was occupied with one of the androids, Number 55 he recalled. Ryan's body language was confusing, a strange thing in a man who climbed mountains for fun. As he passed the bedroom the rumble of Skinner's voice came through pretty clearly; Leigh stopped and propped himself against the door and listened in.
Skinner frowned. "Just exactly how do you think we can help them?" He searched Ricky's face for a clue. "Do you know anything concrete? Have any ideas? And, do you want me here ... I mean, you seem to be getting pretty involved with them, Ricky. I'm ... sharing has never been something I do well. I know that we're not exactly exclusive - not on your part, anyway. But, I'll have a real problem with you fucking one clone after another while I'm around." He shrugged. "I'm not trying to say I want a commitment here, I just ... I want to know that you want me, and I'd like to think that I mean enough to you that you wouldn't ... aw, hell ..." Skinner pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "If you need to screw around, couldn't you at least not rub my face in it?"
Oh, God!' Ricky thought. Guilt mingled with irritation. It was not that he didn't care about Walter. He really loved the guy. But maybe not the way Walter hoped that he would. If he promised fidelity, he'd break his word. Ricky was a lot of things, but he hated to break a promise. And where did Walter get off thinking about commitment and love when Ricky wanted to talk about freeing slaves and defeating yet another conspiracy. Ricky frowned and thought, 'Hey, what if it's the same conspiracy? Could it be? Alex said Ricky was better off not knowing too much. As if what you didn't know couldn't kill you...'
Ricky said a wistful farewell to the intriguing Baines. He put his hands on Walter's shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him. Walter hesitated, perhaps angrier with him than he pretended. But, after all, he yielded and kissed back. Powerhouse kiss, almost brutal. As always, it made Ricky's knees sag and his thoughts turn to the nearest flat surface...hell, a wall would do!
Ricky said, "I won't swear to be faithful, although I wish I was the person you want me to be. But I'm young, Walter, and this is all new to me. I will swear to be more discreet. Okay? Now, I have to figure out where to bed everybody down. I'm sure that Ryan is staying. Did you meet him? He's the one that the android keeps hanging onto as if we all wanted to jump his claim. He can have the other bedroom. The clone with all the sleek muscles, Baines, can have the couch. I don't even know if the androids sleep...what did Philip K. Dick say about that? Anyway, One, 55, and the guy with the Indiana Jones hat can fend for themselves. Maybe they can work on that poor smashed android. He sacrificed his life for us..."
Ricky realized that Walter didn't even know that story. He said, "God, there's so much I want to tell you. Please stay with me tonight. I really need someone to hang on to..."
Baines listened to Ricky distributing beds, including the fact that he was going to end up alone on the couch and discreetly straightened up and moved away from the door. He hastily made the decision to leave this party and headed for the apartment door.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Ryan Simms wondered what the hell was happening to him. His plan had been a simple one. Learn some history of this reality and get acclimated. Then maybe find a job. A bit sketchy but otherwise sensible, he'd thought. He hadn't been in D.C. three hours when things started to go wrong. Four men had overpowered him early yesterday afternoon, tossed his duffle bag aside and him into the van. He'd been alone at first, and taken to a warehouse that had looked to be abandoned up until very recently. Tied to a straight-backed chair, a large bald man had asked him a lot of questions about who he was, where he'd come from and what he was doing. The questions had been thrown at him for hours and hours. Ryan had lost track of time, but doggedly refused to answer, pretending not to speak English. Ryan spoke more than passable French, so he thought he'd pulled it off. The man hadn't checked with the goons he'd had jump him, or that particular gig would've been up. Then he'd been placed in a room with strobe lights constantly flashing and strident, piercing noises periodically sounded. Sleep had been impossible.
This morning or this afternoon, he didn't know which, Ryan had been tossed back into the van and they'd gone on the android hunt that had bagged Caruso into the bargain. When they'd escaped, hope and a sense of command had surged through Ryan. He knew how to get a group of people from Point A to Point B. He could do this, despite his growing fatigue. But then came Number 55 with his sad eyes and an adamant desire for his damn milkshakes. Things had spiraled further out of control. Now, the android had demanded a reward for doing as Ryan had asked and participating in the discussion among his fellow Mac 27s. Simms berated himself to never never never never ask 55 such an open-ended question again. "What would you like?" he'd asked. Not one of Ryan's stellar intellectual moments.
Number 55 had smiled triumphantly and handed Ryan a spoon. "As my reward, I would like for you to assist me in my consumption of tiramisu," 55 had said.
Ryan had articulately managed to mutter, "Help?"
"I will demonstrate, Ryan Simms." 55 had calmly retrieved the spoon, put some tiramisu on it and held it near Ryan's mouth. Simms took what was offered and accepted his fate. So with his world collapsed around him, Ryan found himself feeding 55 and desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone else. Fortunately, they were down to the last few spoonfuls.
"I enjoy tiramisu very much, Ryan Simms. Would you like for me to help you to consume a portion, now?"
The hopeful expression on 55's face prompted, "Sure." When his ears caught up with his mouth, Ryan nearly shouted, " I mean, no thank you." 55's look turned to quizzical, and Ryan rushed forward quickly. "I'm not hungry."
Nodding slowly, 55 glanced back at the other Mac 27s before calmly announcing, "We have a mission, Ryan Simms."
"A mission? What do you mean, a mission?"
"One believes that we need to draw our enemies out," 55 stated, tone a little too awestruck to suit Ryan.
"Draw them out?"
Someone must provide the impetus for our enemies to expose themselves to us," 55 continued authoritatively.
"You mean we're going to be bait, don't you?"
"One did not employ that term. One stated that human-android pairs would be most effective both in attracting enemy attention and in evading or resisting the enemy if an error occurred in execution of the plan."
Fear-motivated anger flared and Ryan spat, "Bait. You signed me up to be bait. What makes you think you had the right to do that?"
"I was participating in the tactical planning session at your suggestion, Ryan Simms."
Defensiveness didn't suit Number 55, but he pulled it off well. "I didn't tell you that you could make decisions for me."
Number 55 considered that for a moment. "And I did not inform you that you could dismiss me whenever you chose."
The android's words took the fight out of Ryan and made him all too aware of how tired he was. "No, you didn't, 55. But I wasn't trying to dismiss you, I just that ... that you … you would be better off with them rather than me."
"I do not agree, Ryan Simms. Do you need to temporarily shut down, now?"
"What?"
"Sleep. Do you need sleep, Ryan Simms?"
"Yeah. I guess I do."
"Wait here. I will find Ricky Caruso and ascertain where you are to shut down."
Ryan watched 55 head toward the master bedroom. Was Caruso in there again? With who? A quick look around provided a number of candidates. Skinner, Mulder and Baines were unaccounted for. Closing his eyes, Ryan leaned back on the couch and tried to calm his mind.
Ricky opened the door and plowed straight into a Mac 27. It took him a minute, but Alex's green shirt on the android was a good clue. "Hi, 55." Ricky frowned and said, "Do you like being called 55?"
Number 55 said, "Mr. Orville said I was a machine and Sally was not to name me. Is Silky a good name? Sally wanted to name me Silky or Sugar-Pie."
Ricky managed to swallow his grin. He said, "Why not ask Ryan for a good name?"
Number 55 said, "That is a good idea."
Ricky asked, "Did you need something?"
Number 55 said, "Ryan Simms is weary. He needs to establish a rest cycle."
Ricky said, "Yeah, I figured. You and he can take the other bedroom. Or do Mac 27s need to sleep?"
One answered from the corner of the room. He said, "When we have excellent fuel, as we had tonight, we do not need to conserve energy."
Number 55 rebelliously said, "I need a rest stage like Ryan Simms. I will rest in a human bed."
One softly replied, "I do not seek to be your master, 55. Do as you will."
The android in the Indiana Jones' hat said, "This unit is beyond repair."
One said, "I will continue. He is a hero. His injuries were sustained to save me and I will not repay him by allowing permanent shut down."
One returned to his work. Ricky took one look and was grossed out. Green gel oozed from the torn shreds of artificial skin. The Mac 27's eye twitched as One manipulated what appeared to be a tiny laser torch. Ricky said, "Well, yell, if you need anything, One."
Looking around, Ricky noticed that the panther-like Baines had disappeared. So much for finding out just how much they had in common. Oh well, one less temptation and he did still have Walter. For the record, he asked Simms, "What happened to the guy who came in with Walter and Fox?"
Simms muttered, "I thought you had all of them in there with you."
Ricky supposed that was an insult, but it gave him a shiver as a vivid scene tantalized his imagination. Regrets put behind him, Ricky said, "Mulder split when you were busy feeding goodies to 55. Took the weird Mac 27 with him. Didn't you see Baines leave?"
Simms was crabby. He retorted, "I'm not in charge of your house guests!" He added, "Guy moved like a some kind of cat anyway. Spooky."
Ricky said with a grin, "Spooky left earlier. Okay. You look exhausted. There's a good comfortable bed in the spare room. Have at it. Believe me everything looks better after a good night's sleep."
Walter was standing in the doorway. Ricky turned and smiled. He said, "All taken care of. Will you stay, Walter?"
With visions of his own home - one that was not filled with Krycek clones and androids - swimming in his suddenly tired brain, Skinner looked at Ricky. Pushing aside his reservations about being personally involved with his much younger subordinate, he nodded. They really did need to figure out what the hell was going on with all of these look-a-likes ... and they were all desperately in need of sleep. And Caruso looked so ... needy right now.
Walter had never been able to resist needy. "Yeah, Ricky, I'm staying." He backed into the bedroom. "Let's go to bed."
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Ryan regretted his outburst the moment it happened, but Caruso didn't seem offended. In fact, Ricky didn't really seem to take very much seriously. Simms remembered wondering if that had been an act, or at least partly an act earlier, but he wasn't capable of puzzling Ricky Caruso out at the moment. It took all of Ryan's concentration to follow Number 55 to the guest room. Wait a minute. They'd been in the guest room before. It was a normal, one bed sort of guest room. Ryan paused a few steps into the room and tried to sort out his confusing mish-mash of emotions. That was pointless. He was too tired. Trying to ignore the fact that Number 55 was turning down the blanket and comforter, Ryan kicked off his shoes. Sitting on the bed, back to 55, Simms worked on his socks.
"Ryan Simms?"
"Yeah."
"When we proceed with our mission, we will be out among humans."
Unbuttoning his shirt, Ryan looked over his shoulder at 55. It wasn't like the android to simply state the obvious. Number 55 was leading up to something, and there was nothing to do but prompt periodically and wait him out. And that would give Ryan something to do other than be weirded out by an android that looked exactly like him taking off his clothes in preparation for sleeping in the same bed.
"Right," Ryan muttered.
"It will be awkward if you refer to me as 55."
Draping the borrowed shirt across the dresser, Ryan admitted, "That's true. What should I call you, then?"
"I do not have a human name. Would you select one for me, Ryan Simms?"
"55, picking out your clothes is one thing, but ... I don't know. I've never named anyone."
"Then I will be your first," 55 observed with a smile that could only be characterized as beatific.
All of the potential meanings of those words reverberated in Ryan's head for a few moments. And then he started to laugh. "You got that right, 55."
The road from beatific to crestfallen had never been traveled so rapidly. Number 55 was clearly disappointed. Instinctively trying to cheer the android up, Ryan said, "Well, you want me to think about it, don't you? Want me to pick you a good name. One that suits you. Not just Max or something close to Mac, right?"
"I would like to have an appropriate name ... a good name, Ryan Simms."
"Then you're going to have to let me get some sleep, right now all I could think of would be ...." Ryan was struggling to come up with any name at all, when 55 plumped Ryan's pillow. Rachel had done that. Christ, Ryan. You can't name him Rachel. That is too strange -- even for this madness. Think of something else.
The very first name that came to mind was, "Felix."
"Is Felix not a good name, Ryan Simms?"
"Not for you, no. I'm just saying that there are some things that shouldn't be rushed." The little voice in Ryan's mind asked whether he was still talking about names. Simms told it in no uncertain terms to mind its own business, as he stripped to his borrowed underwear and got into bed.
Number 55 followed and both lay on their backs staring at the ceiling. "I will wait for a name from Ryan Simms, also," Number 55 stated with conviction.
Ryan sighed and closed his eyes, but his thoughts were racing. A name for Number 55. What name? Simms looked to movies for references. Hal? Nah. Damien? Definitely not. What was the pilot's name in Alien? Dallas. That could be okay. I can't remember anyone's name from Star Ship Troopers. Not a bad thing.
Luke? That had possibilities, and 55 had a farm boy background too. Unnaturally strong. Didn't require The Force, but 55 had something driving him. And it wasn't just chocolate shakes and tiramisu.
"Goodnight, Luke," Ryan murmured.
The shifting on the bed told Simms that 55 -- no, Luke -- had turned toward him.
"Thank you, Ryan Simms," 55(Luke) whispered.
Ryan smiled and relaxed into the comfortable mattress of Ricky Caruso's guest bed. After a few moments, he realized that 55(Luke) hadn't moved. Opening his eyes, Ryan glanced at the android.
"Is it not customary to kiss before commencing a rest cycle, Ryan Simms?" 55(Luke) asked in a hushed, tentative tone.
Smiling, Ryan countered, "In some cultures."
Nodding thoughtfully, 55(Luke) bent down and pressed his lips to Ryan's, remembering to relax his lips this time. "Rest now, Ryan Simms," 55(Luke) whispered when he pulled away.
"Pleasant dreams, Luke," Ryan replied, silently wondering if the android could dream before he dropped off to sleep.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
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