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Scene #40
"Relax, Eban. You will not be harmed." "Jeanne?!" The coarse
black bag that had been pulled roughly over Em's head was removed.
"You do realize, I'm certain, that this means you are no longer
employed by the Artemis Foundation." "I was only trying to find
out who I was, Jeanne. You should understand—I work for you, and
you know more about me than I do! On the other hand, this
'Foundation'—we all know that's only half the story! Why won't
you tell me who I was? I>WhatI was?" "You swore an oath once.
While perhaps you truly do not remember, you are still bound by
it! You will leave now, and you will never return. I further
advise you to stop this inquiry into your past. It will only bring
you pain, and worse." "What oath? What are you talking about? I
just want what was taken from me, my memories. I have the right to
that!" "Believe me, you do not want what was taken from you.
Why do you suppose that what you lost was all good? Perhaps not
remembering is for the best." "I don't even know what I lost.
Maybe, if I knew... but I don't. I can't even make an informed
decision. Whoever I was... I think that's who I was supposed to be.
Not this. This life just... doesn't fit. I think that who I was,
that was the real me. I want to be that again." "I am so sorry
that you feel that way, Eban." "Why, Jeanne? What was I, one of
these things, these 'monsters' you hunt? Is that what you're so
afraid of?" Seeing the look on Jeanne's face, a realization began
to dawn. "That's it, isn't it? That's why you're so scared I might
remember... That's why I was sent here—not merely because you
knew me, knew what to watch out for... but because someday, you
might just have to 'handle' me!" "Eban, please. Your mind is
running away with you. You are aware how paranoid you sound just
now?" "It doesn't sound like paranoia to me. It sounds right.
And I'm the one who was dragged here with a bag over my head! Now,
unless you want to be charged with kidnapping, I suggest you tell
your goons to release me." Jeanne stood. "I'm sorry, Eban, but
I'm afraid we've gone too far for that to be an option any longer."
"What the hell are you talking about? You just told me I was to
leave, and never return..." "That is no longer possible."
"What do you mean? I have rights, you know. Innocent until
proven guilty, remember? Now you can take your mythical monster
story to the cops if you want, but..." "No, Eban, you don't
have rights. The oath you swore supersedes those rights. Your life
hasn't been your own since you joined our ranks. You will answer
now to a higher law, for a higher purpose, that the majority might
be safe." "Whoa, lady. I always thought you had megalomaniacal
aspersions, but..." Jeanne slapped Eban, hard, across the face.
"No! No more. No more of your attitude. You wanted to know who you
were? Well, now you'll get your wish. And may God have mercy on
your soul, if you still have one." Stunned, Eban offered no
resistance as the guards lifted her to her feet and prepared to
replace the hood. But when the guard on her right raised his arms
to lower the hood over her face, Eban ducked into the opening and
rammed him like a mountain goat. He caught his foot on the chair in
which Eban had been seated and went down, hard. The second
guard grabbed Eban from behind, by her upper arms. He stepped one
foot in front of her and wrapped his leg around hers, effectively
tripping her. They went down, the guard on top. He straddled her,
forcing her around to face him. She squirmed, twisting her body so
her right leg was on his left side. Eban's shoulders were pinned,
but she worked her leg up around his waist and, using her much more
powerful quads, forced him off her and down on the floor. She was
on top of him in an instant, kneeling on his groin. His hands
occupied with trying to remove her knee from his privates, he had
no way of preventing the head-butt that, in tandem with the solid
oak floor, rendered him unconscious. Eban rolled off him, snatching
the keys to her cuffs from his belt. Soon she had one hand free.
As Eban turned to face Jeanne, she heard a muffled plunk and
felt a stinging pain in her upper back. Reacting on animal
instinct, Eban whirled around and used the cuff that still dangled
from her left wrist to swat the gun out of Jeanne's hand. It went
clattering off, eventually coming to a rest under a heavy bureau.
Jeanne froze as Eban plucked the dart from her flesh. Eban swayed
but did not fall. "You wondered who—what—you were. But I
see you haven't forgotten all your skills. That dart would have
dropped the proverbial 500-pound gorilla. Tell me—do you think an
ordinary human would still be standing?" Eban took an unsteady
step toward Jeanne, who flinched back. Shaking her head, Eban
said: "I'm not gonna hurt you, Jeanne. Although the truth is, I
wouldn't mind sitting on you until you produced some answers... But
I suspect there's more to your security detail than just those
two," indicating the guards stretched out on the floor. "And I
really don't want to find out what you had in store for me on the
other side of that black hood." Eban contemptuously tossed the
cuffs and keys on Jeanne's desk and turned to leave. "Eban,
there's no going back from this. If you submit now, I promise you,
it will be painless." "What, your wooden stakes and silver
bullets won't hurt? Why don't I believe that? Huh. You think
I'm the monster, but you're the one with the problem. I can't
explain what I just did, but I sure as hell don't believe in all
this supernatural mumbo-jumbo. Certainly not enough to take an
innocent life. And just for the record, I still don't know any more
than I did when you hauled me in here like a side of beef.
Good-bye, Jeanne." As she turned to leave, Em caught a familiar
object out of the corner of her eye. Buried beneath several files
on Jeanne's desk was... her journal. The one Bridget had given her,
how long ago now? Levin retrieved her property, tucked it inside
her jacket. At Jeanne's pensive expression, Eban stated flatly:
"This doesn't belong to you any more than my memories do." Eban
thought better of leaving via the front door, and choose a window
instead. She dropped silently into the cool dampness of early
morning, not yet sunrise. Jeanne gave her several moments to
get out of earshot, then picked up the phone and dialed San
Francisco. When the reinforcing contingent of guards arrived, she
waved them to the window; the phone on the other end had just been
picked up. "Rykaard," Jeanne began. "It's about Eban Levin.
Yes. Just before she escaped, I think she was beginning to
remember."
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