Tunes in Profile:

Inertia Creeps

Mezzanine

"His skin taking on a sickly pale hue completed the transformation into a flawless copy. His new concentration-camp physique even stooped a little, and he brought a finger to his lips."

Hysteresis

"Wait. Vey!"

Lieutenant River had hounded her entire journey to this complex almost non-stop, the zeal in his voice increasing with every step. He'd tried threats, he'd tried bargaining . . . he'd even tried appealing to the emotional side of her female brain.

All had failed. She'd already made up her mind – had made it up the second she'd cut his attempt at reconciliation short, snatched L's chip from its housing, and hurried out of her office with him right behind her.

"Damnit! Listen to reason." He tried again, his voice sounding just a little too desperate for his liking.

Stopping just outside the windowless manual doors of her destination, Vey turned to address the pest at her heels with a sneer.

"Your opinion, Lieutenant, is no longer something I value. If you disagree with my methods, I suggest you spend your time elsewhere." Turning from him, she pulled an antique key from the pocket of her suit trousers.

Stepping between her and the matching lock, Shepherd obstructed her progress in a last ditch-effort to change her mind. "This is madness. He's mad. You can't trust him."

"Trust isn't a required part of the equation. Otherwise, you would no longer be here. Step aside." Her eyes hardened into an or else glare.

Shepherd shook his head slowly. "I've already explained my reasoning for hiding the truth from you. You have my word, there's nothing else."

"More lies," she spat back at him. "But as long as you keep my secret, you can keep your own . . . whatever they may be."

Glancing up, the Lieutenant gave a cruel, mocking laugh to the ceiling. "Jesus, do you hear yourself? You make it sound like I'm some kind of infiltrator here to steal your work."

"Maybe you are. It would certainly explain a lot more than your little piss-poor family shrine story."

"And maybe I'm not. Regardless, this is a foolhardy action any way you look at it. Even for you."

And she smiled. That spiteful, wicked grin that made his skin crawl. "A shame you feel that way, because it's your betrayal that solidified this decision for me. It's my way or no way, Shep." She held up the tiny metallic casing, the luminescent blue within radiating from between the fingers curled tightly around it. " So unless you want to see L destroyed, get out of my way."

She was serious, Shepherd had no doubt. "You would go that far?"

"Considering it's what I should have done the second I learned his identity . . . absolutely. If you want push me into a corner, then expect desperate measures."

Speaking of desperate measures, he was almost tempted to strong-arm her against the wall and wrench L's chip from her possession. Almost . . . but not quite. While the idea had merit, it would put unnecessary kinks in his plan. He still needed her expertise . . . still needed her to complete the process that would make L the most capable entity known to man. And while she was clearly mistrustful of him now, Vey wasn't to the point of excluding him entirely from the project. Not yet, and such an action would undoubtedly put her in that situation in two shakes. Something he didn't need.

Besides, did he really want to create that kind of animosity between them? When it was all said and done . . . did he want her to hate him?

No. He had no choice. He would be most effective in his current position, for the time being anyway. Moving aside, he could do nothing but watch that key as it found its way through the old-fashioned locking mechanism that sealed these doors.

This rectangular room, at first glance, was like any other – silvery-white walls, artificial lighting overhead, blue-marble tiling for flooring. A sofa, made of black artificial material, sat against the east wall – to the right of the door they just entered through. No windows, and no other creature comforts. It wasn't until one took a good, hard look around that he or she might notice what set this 'lab' apart from most others.

Almost the entire floor, with the exception of the tiny section beneath the sofa, wasn't a 'floor' at all; but instead a giant holographic display for the AI lucky enough to live here. The same corresponding space on the ceiling completed the system – made up of rows and rows of advanced crystal elements protected by a shielding of glass.

Shepherd looked around – examining everything with the sharp eyes his genetics had graced him with. Unlike Vey, he'd never been in this room before. Few people had - either because they'd never known what dwelled here, or because they knew and wisely kept their distance.

A pocket of crystals almost in the center of the ceiling overhead warmed, followed a second later by the crystal floor directly underneath, and both human occupants backed their way toward the east wall.

Vey looked to the Lieutenant as he came to stand beside her. Her Shepherd might have spooked; but this one only stood there with a look of cautious curiosity in his eyes as he waited for artificial creature to show itself.

"Well, look who it is!" A disembodied rumble filled the small quarters – manically merry in its tone. Laughter followed, just as demented, before the swirling of brilliant light began its formation into a life-size image.

Pinks and blacks and pale whites quickly took shape – cycling through a myriad of half-formed figures until apparently finally deciding on the right one. Or, the right two. Vey wasn't impressed with the greeting – she'd known what to expect. But Shepherd wasn't as used to the AI's antics as she. He stiffened abruptly beside her, his wide-eyed gaze glued to the couple in coitus not more than five feet in front of him.

"Caught with your pants down?" The AI's voice asked Shepherd in mocking amusement, referring to his perfect copy of the Lieutenant's slender frame curled over a very nude, equally perfect Vey from behind.

Vey had to give it to him – he was precise, if anything. If she didn't know any better, she'd have thought they had walked in on co-workers who'd sought out this room to have a quick go at it. She recognized the several articles of clothing strewn about the floor, having been discarded by the pair currently using the desk as a mount; and Vey could see the shiny glisten of worked-up sweat that covered them both. She even recognized the scattered notes on the desk she was currently bent over as belonging to a matter of intense debate between them some time ago, and knew that if she got close enough – she could probably read them.

She wondered if she should have prepared Shepherd. But then, the boy deserved whatever unnerving he suffered from at the hands of this evil incarnate AI. Served him right. Turning her back on the performance, Vey walked over to the sofa to seat herself calmly. She was used to it; but hearing her own voice in such a context and seeing them go at it like a couple of lions still managed to have an effect on her, albeit slight.

"Still into voyeurism these days, Danta?" She asked over the susurrations of their duplicates in a conversational tone as she leaned back against the cushion casually.

The image dissolved suddenly, a final female cry echoing throughout the room. "Just you," the AI's own voice followed. "You're such a splendid performer. Wouldn't you agree, lover boy?"

Shepherd didn't respond, instead glaring back at the Doctor over his shoulder. When it came to reactions to Dantalion's mischief, she'd seen worse. Other than the forced movement of his Adam's apple, and the downright cross look in his eyes as if he were accusing her of being responsible, he was managing quite well actually. And after a moment more to compose himself, the Lieutenant moved to join her.

Energy came to life again – particles of light building upon one another until the AI's own image formed in the center of the room.

The demonic construct loomed over them in all of his full-size glory. A six-foot tall display of human splendor, Dantalion was truly a sight to behold. Currently, he adopted the form of what many assumed Satan to look like – a man of youth and unparalleled perfection. Instead of horns, he wore a thick cover of black waves. Instead of flaming red, his skin covered him in a cool, healthy porcelain color. But his eyes – in all their creamy ruby glory – retained every inch of evil one expected to see when looking upon the Great Duke of Hell. He wore all black in an 18th century style tailored suit. Imposed on that black were bright red segments of code that scrolled vertically along the length of him.

One of many forms. Dantalion was, what some called, a shape shifter. And one with real talent, as no doubt just displayed. While almost all AIs had the ability to morph, most tended to adopt one form and stick to it. But Dantalion was true to his name, and changed his appearance often.

Well, he used to anyway. Vey supposed it didn't do him much good since he was now isolated almost entirely.

But when he'd been with her, it had been one of the first troubling traits she'd noticed about him. Whenever he'd wanted to intimidate or frighten someone, he'd turn into something ghastly that usually involved a great deal of blood and human suffering. Something that probably wouldn't bother most people . . . except it was usually an exact copy of his victim that he showed.

She still remembered the first incident with one of her team members. An older gentleman, he'd been one of the engineers who had been adamant about sending Dantalion off into general use. An argument ensued, over what specifically she couldn't recall, and the old man had attempted to put Dantalion in his place with a few dismissing words. And before anyone knew what happened, the poor guy had fainted and hit the floor, having been presented with an image of himself prying out his own heart with his fingers and shoving the still beating organ into his mouth.

Blood lust. Dantalion had a thing for the crimson liquid, and used any opportunity he could get to unnerve people with it.

But other moods would bring other forms. He could be extremely charming when he chose to be, showing others a calming or pleasant vision of youth and purity. Or he could be playful, showing the jester within with clever humor and practical jokes.

Or, he could be manipulative, with a too-easy smile and purring voice . . . like he behaved currently.

Yet for all his disturbing traits, there was good to be found in Dantalion. When it came to ability, especially that of intrusion/counter-intrusion, he was peerless. He could read people like no AI should be able to, and he could adapt his own behavior in such a way as to convince anyone of anything. He possessed a wealth of knowledge on just about any subject one could think of, and he was always eager to share.

Most importantly, his time with his chosen Admiral had given him access to highly secure information – weapons, deployment, high-ranking personnel, mission details, and more. He could operate any vehicle, aircraft, or cruiser available, and do so with an accuracy that no human being could achieve. He knew who was who, why they were who, and what it would take to make them no longer that who if one so desired such a downfall. He knew his way around almost any form of technology – even sensitive technology – and he also possessed the ability to learn new protocols on the fly.

None of that she could get from Ronin, and all of it she needed.

"Really, Vey. Are you going to remain silent, or are you going to discuss with me with you've come to discuss."

His use of her first name used to bother her, but since his isolation she supposed it no longer made any difference, so she stopped correcting him a long time ago.

"You speak as if you know why I'm here."

Dantalion leered at her, an insane yet attractive twisting of his lips. "I know exactly why you're here." He held a hand in front of himself to balance a blood-red flame within his palm. "I even know who that is." He slammed his hand closed, dispersing the blaze into scarlet droplets that dissolved before they hit the ground.

Without realizing it, Vey's own fingers tightened their hold protectively around the fiery-blue energy contained within.

"You know nothing." Shepherd spoke up softly from beside her. "This cell keeps you isolated from the rest of the system."

The AI chuckled at him, as it would an ignorant child. And with a dramatic clap of his hands, Dantalion gave credence to his words in a flash of intense light.

"You see?" He asked from behind empty dilated pupils, in a low and monotonous drone. His perfect black hair disheveled itself into spiked ends, and his well-tailored suit fell away to worn blue denim and long-sleeved white. His skin taking on a sickly pale hue completed the transformation into a flawless copy. His new concentration-camp physique even stooped a little, and he brought a finger to his lips.

Precision. Like no other.

"How?" Vey asked, quite sure he wasn't going to tell her but unable to stop herself from asking anyway.

This L, as big as she'd ever seen him, stepped closer to the pair to bring himself face to face with the Lieutenant. Leaning in, he stared at the boy with the same intense concentration that letter was known for.

He cocked his head to one side, his voice a half-whisper. "It's like looking into a mirror." Then the other. "Only . . . not."

Shepherd pressed himself back into the sofa cushion, despite himself. And when the beast's tongue emerged from parted lips as if to lick at his own, it was all Shep could do not to jump up and quickly distance himself from it, the fact that the AI couldn't physically hurt him notwithstanding.

Drawing his tongue back into his mouth, Dantalion gave a falsely reassuring smile. "To answer your question," he began, his dead eyes still intent on his victim. "A little birdie told me." With a wink, he straightened and retreated backward a few inches to regard them both with twisted delight.

As if he could feel her stare, Shepherd's head snapped toward Vey. "No. Never."

It didn't matter. It wasn't something to be discussed in the presence of an AI hovering on their every word. But if not Shepherd, then she had to wonder who? Pandora? Another AI? She didn't think that possible.

Because it wasn't, she realized as she shifted back to regard the construct through narrowed slits. Even with a priority override beyond her own, no one could force Pandora into relaying confidential information. Not even an Admiral.

But, there was nothing that prevented Dantalion from using her as a conduit. And while Pandora was no novice, Dantalion's skill was such that the lesser AI wouldn't even notice the breach, leaving the intruder free to listen to and watch everything.

"Someone's granted you access." She murmured in quiet surprise. "In exchange for what, I wonder?"

"Ohhhh," he sighed, his gaze falling to where his fingers picked at the hem of the white material of his shirt. "There are all sorts of things certain people would want of me. Things they would want to keep undisclosed, of course."

Vey rolled her eyes upward, derision coloring the tone of her voice in dark humor. "Clearly, whoever it is has no idea that you can't keep a secret to save your life."

Black holes rose to meet her own, accompanied by the barest of smirks. "I know. Isn't that funny?"

No, it wasn't funny at all. Not when she had her own secrets to keep, and someone was allowing Dantalion to run around wild throughout the system. "Was snooping in my office a request made by this liberator of yours?"

A skeletal hand came to rest against the fiend's heart, as if he were wounded by her question. "Why Vey, you know I would never spy on you, except for my own personal enjoyment." He shrugged indifferently. "I just happened to be in your neck of the woods, and thought I would stop by for afternoon tea. I'm very limited in where I can go and what I can do, so I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. No harm in that, is there?"

"Did you tell anyone?" Shepherd demanded suddenly, no longer content to just sit and glower at the beast while he played games.

Dantalion only glanced briefly at the upstart before black holes darted back to Vey. "He's very convincing, that one. But no, I've not spilled your little secret. I would gain nothing, so why bother?"

"So, you'll teach him then?"

"You mean, can he be taught?" The AI asked seriously, the smile falling from his pale pink lips.

"He's off the scales. Extraordinary . . . much like you."

The demon gave a sigh, slumping his already stooped form just a little more. "I don't think you quite realize what you're trying to accomplish, Doctor. He's human – and you think he'll succeed where all other AI but myself have failed? He'll only end up mutilating his own data, and I'll have done nothing but waste my time."

"Then he'll die, and I'll owe you double for your so limited time." Vey shot back with as much sarcasm as she could gather. "But if you refuse–"

"Yes, yes." Dantalion cut her off impatiently, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his back on them to move closer to the west wall. "How embarrassing, that an entity such as myself is forced to do the bidding of human beings. Maybe I should just let you do it and be done with it."

Vey had no response for that, and all three of them fell into a prolonged silence that left each to their private thoughts. Shepherd stood and set to pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, absently pulling at the dark curls at the back of his head in thought. Vey remained seated, her gaze still intent on the diabolical AI as she considered whether or not this really was the best course of action. Dantalion kept himself separated from them, opting to face the far wall in what seemed like quiet thought.

A very human action that didn't last long. Turning, this false L extended an arm suddenly, and held out his hand expectantly – as if he were God himself reaching down to man. Vey looked down, her fingers uncurling themselves from warm metal and light. The chances of this being anything other than a death sentence were indeed slim, just as Dantalion said. But the alternative, she realized, was no better. There was no one else to give him the knowledge that Dantalion possessed, and without it . . . L would find himself at the mercy of those in power.

Raising her head, she found Shepherd staring down oddly at her, and Vey could tell that he thought she was going too far. Maybe she was. But, she did not get where she was because she played by the rules; she'd made it this far because she liked to take risks.

Something the boy should have considered before tricking her into bringing one of the greatest minds of the early twenty-first century back from the dead.

With a flick of her wrist, as if dealing out a card, Vey sent the construct flying across the room heedlessly. Like a coin being flipped from one's fingers, the tiny chip twisted and turned itself as it made the journey, alternating in flashes of shiny metal and bright blue. She watched, as did Shepherd in wide-eyed surprise, as it reached the peak of its arc, and descended neatly into Dantalion's waiting palm as if traveling on a rail system.

"He can . . ." Shepherd murmured beside her, incredulous. " . . . touch things?"

A slow smile spread its way across the sharp features of Dantalion's current manifestation, as if he were a pyromaniac who'd just gotten the go-ahead to light the place on fire.

"Some things," Vey answered for him. "You see why I chose him? There's a great deal he can do that other AIs cannot."

Long fingers curled around the construct, and as if to reiterate Vey's comment, Dantalion appeared the squeeze L's chip until it vanished from his hand and into thin air with a pop.

Shep's reaction was an immediate step forward, as if he could somehow retrieve what human hands could no longer touch.

"Relax, Lieutenant. He's not hurting anything." Vey reached up, fastened her own fingers about one slender wrist, and pulled Shepherd back down to sit beside her. "Just watch."

Her partner obeyed, although from his standpoint there was nothing to see. The demon looked no different, and only stood there with his eyes closed, his hand coming back down to rest at his side.

"What's he doing?" He leaned over to whisper in her ear after a few seconds of waiting.

"Reading L's data – gathering information about him before the initiation."

"Initiation?" Shep asked, sounding put-out by his own ignorance of the AI's process.

Before Vey could answer, Dantalion's eyes snapped open suddenly. "Interesting," he mused out loud, "that you would pick this one Doctor." The AI waited for no response, and gave a quick snap of his fingers.

To his left, another pocket of crystals above shimmered to life, and the sudden swirl of an ice-blue sandstorm filled the empty space between floor and ceiling. Tiny particles zoomed about, this time filling an expanse of several feet instead of several inches, before colliding with one another to form larger, more recognizable pieces. They worked their way up, beginning with denim-clad legs and ending with that dollop of black cream that completed the formation.

"Splendid!" Dantalion exclaimed proudly, turning to regard the original that his current display still copied.

It took a moment for L to gather his bearings. He first looked downward at himself, either in surprise at his sudden increase in size or just to make sure that everything was in its place, and then he looked ahead of him to the two-person audience sitting on the sofa. His surroundings were next, sharp eyes mapping every inch of the lab, and the copy of himself was last.

Recognition sparked in those black diamonds of his as he turned to face the other AI, and Dantalion made no effort to correct what he knew the boy would assume. In fact, he played upon that knowledge he had of the detective now, and cocked his head in a false show of his own recognition.

"Don't you remember me?" He asked, taking a handful of steps that closed the distance between them. When L didn't answer, but only continued to stare, Dantalion pushed a little further until the two mirror images shared the last crystal between them that had a moment before separated their displays. "Come now, don't be shy detective." he purred in L's own voice, his face too close for comfort.

Still, L stood his ground against the demonic double – his eyes never wavering even under their own scrutiny. It wasn't until Dantalion graduated to touching – his fingertips reaching to pull at a wayward wisp of clumped black at L's forehead just to see if he could – did the detective respond by shoving the AI back by his shoulders hard enough to force him back several steps.

It was a warning – L's way of telling him that he was not to be tampered with. And Dantalion, true to his nature, completely ignored it. He simply smiled at the very human response, and advanced again to continue the dance.

"I think that's enough," Vey was beside them suddenly, and deliberately stepped in-between the two as if they were rambunctious children, disturbing the energy of both. They separated immediately, not as fortunate as she was to remain unaffected by the pseudo-contact.

"That tingles." Dantalion complained for both of them when his form re-stabilized.

"I didn't feel a thing. Now leave off, and stop playing games." Vey crossed her arms over her chest in a no-nonsense stance, turning to an L that was now taller than her as Shepherd came to stand at her side. "L, this is Dantalion – another of this installation's AIs. He's agreed to show you a few things that I can't teach you."

L looked from her to over her head. "Dantalion? One of Solomon's Daemons?"

"That's right." Dantalion shot back irritably, still fussing over his perfectly fine display.

"Who did you think he was?"

The question brought L's gaze back down to Vey, something he found he missed dreadfully after having to look up constantly. "No one," he lied. "I wasn't sure what to make of him, honestly." He looked to the Lieutenant in an effort to gauge whether or not the boy knew better, and found that Shepherd appeared to have no idea. Or if he did, he hid it extremely well.

"At any rate, I'm going to leave you with him temporarily." L nodded, and Vey made a one-eighty to face Dantalion. "Make an effort to get along with him, or I'll stick you in his portable. Do not take him out of this room, and don't go around telling all your friends about him. If I get him back any different than I gave him, heads will roll. Understand?"

The demon pulled a face at her – his version of brooding. "I don't have any friends."

Vey smiled in response. "Exactly."

Once they were out the door and halfway down the hallway, the Lieutenant decided it time to voice his concern.

"Is it wise to leave him there?"

Vey cast him a quick sidelong glance, as if she weren't sure whether she wanted to answer him or not. "Maybe, maybe not," she replied with finally. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"