What will it be? Waddington's chreode, enforcing some kind of Platonic human form on everything it touches? Or just a ministering angel with eyes like flashing gold? I need to know before I bring it to the surface'the potential negative consequences are truly chilling. [Lab Notes, 6/2/04]
'There are some victories that cost more than defeat,' the Civilian lectured. Wearing only a hospital gown and a thick bandage around either wrist he should have looked absurd, or at least pathetic. His newfound power to strangle Clark's life force probably helped there. 'Then there are just plain old defeats. I never got that shit about captains going down with the ship. Even the rats aren't that stupid, right? So back in the first days of the Epidemic, when this Druid guy came to me and said, look, humanity's a done deal, it's gone, finito, a real non-starter, but that maybe, just maybe there was a way for me to save my own neck, well. You know you have to listen to that. Look, give me your gun. I'm going to have power over the dead. He promised. You know, fuck dental, ruling the undead with an iron fist is the ultimate fringe benefit.'
Clark handed over his firearm. He had little choice. The Civilian could kill him before he could get off a single shot.
'I was a little leery when, you know, he said I had to die and then crawl my way back from the grave. That's going to have a chilling effect on most negotiations. Turns out it was the easy part. I was going to come back anyway. Staying sharp, though, holding onto my faculties the way your blonde girl did, that took some work. It's all about maintaining oxygen flow to the brain.'
'The girl,' Clark said, still kneeling on the infirmary floor. He could feel his calves ping as they complained about their cut-off circulation. 'What does she have to do with all this?'
'Surprisingly little. God am I sick of hearing about Nilla! My new boss is obsessed with her, too. What is it, the blonde hair? The tits? No, Bannerman, she's just a pawn in this game. A pawn that everyone thinks is a queen. Fuck her, alright? Let's stay on-message here.' The Civilian smiled warmly at him. 'I like you, Bannerman. I like you a lot.'
'I' like you, too,' Clark tried, warily.
The Civilian pulled away the chair that had been barring the door to the ICU. The door slid open silently and snicked against the magnet on the far wall, sealing itself open. The smell of blood and death billowed out of the enclosed room. 'No you don't. Nobody likes me, and with good reason. I'm an asshole. Because I had to be, to help preserve, you know, freedom. My country needed me to be an asshole. You, on the other hand, are likeable. You're honest, and dependable, and smart, and you try to do your best, always. That's so commendable. No way am I going to just throw away a resource like that. So I'm going to take you with me, as my servant or something. I'm even going to hook you up to a respirator when I kill you to make sure you don't lose that beautiful brain of yours. Not all of it, anyway. I can't really let you be smarter than me, that wouldn't make a lot of sense. You'll probably experience some slurred speech and'wow'no more operating heavy machinery for you, but you won't be one of these drooling slobs you see all over, either, and that's something. So come on. I have the bed all ready for you'the respirator's hooked into the emergency power. We're going to live forever, Bannerman. You and me, side by side, wonk and wonklord.' The Civilian stepped out of the ICU and held out a hand for Clark to take.
'No, no, I don't think that's going to happen,' Clark said, slowly rising to his feet, shaking out his numb legs.
The Civilian rolled his eyes and lifted one hand as if he planned on choking Clark from afar. Before he could use his power Vikram Singh Nanda shot him twice in the back of the head. The Civilian collapsed in a tangle of limbs, completely dead.
There was a good reason why the flanking maneuver was considered a classic.