Northberg Medical Facility is an enormous place, but I didn't pay any attention to the layout. I'd probably be here again sometime, anyway. I didn't even really care about the other engineered kids there at the educational department, at least for the moment. All my thoughts were focused on Paul, all the way through the tram ride until we walked up to his hospital-room door. It was guarded by an Enforcer, which walked inside the moment it spotted Howard.

"Billy, Sarah, no one is to come inside this door until I exit it. Not you, not anyone.", he commanded us, and we took typical guard positions next to the door. So Howie wants privacy with Paul. Hmm. I can only guess as to what he's saying, word for word. I do, of course, know what he's doing- he's telling Paul the truth, in person, with a calm demeanor and an even tone. When Howard's in Manipulation Mode, I know it, and Sarah almost certainly knows it too. Everyone else probably just thinks it's another slight behavioral quirk of the Dominator- and that belief is fine for everybody.

I started to get bored before realizing it had only been ten seconds or so. Oh, come on. Not even in school do I get bored this quick. He should be only five minutes or less... I watched a blond-haired man, with a white clothing selection that was probably uncomfortable, walk by- no, wait, he's not walking by.

"You're Sarah, right?", he said, pointing to her.

"Yeah." The door opened from behind us, but it wasn't Howard, only the Enforcer, which walked away.

"And you're...", he went on quickly, pointing to me.

"Billy." Question: Is he really so dim as to need to ask our names? It's not like we're not distinctive or anything..

"All right, good. I need to talk to your master, right now."

"Tough luck.", Sarah said, shrugging. "He's not to be disturbed."

"When will he be done?"

"Whenever he feels like it." Howard said not to harm Illuminati. He didn't mention lie to, torment, or embarrass... and he did that intentionally, to keep people from trying to use his servants. And from Sarah's tone, I can tell that she's developed an instant dislike for this asshole (some people just radiate annoyance, ya know?) and is going to toy with him.

"Look, miss." From the instant scowl on her face, I could tell Sarah didn't like being called that. Maybe because she doesn't miss? Or maybe because the man's talking as if to a child... that pisses every teenager off. "I need.. to talk to Howard.. right now. It's really urgent." He then made Grievous Mistake A. He tried to go between us. Instantly, my right and her left arms shot out and pushed him to the floor, knocking him on his ass without inflicting so much as a mark.

"I'm not sure you understand..", he began.

"I'm not sure you understand.", Sarah replied, in that same offhand tone she's perfected to a science. "The next time you try that, you'll get knocked into the wall. The time after that, I'll break your arm. And the time after that, well..." Sarah brought out her left hand and made a downward-claw gesture, much like the reverse of a referee's 'face mask' gesture. It was all I could do to hold a straight face and not laugh like a maniac. Oh yeah. She can lie, all right.

The man's face grew slightly red, as if he was offended in some way, and Howard's timing could not have been more perfect. "Howard! I need to talk to you, in private. Is now a good time?", the man said, in exactly the wrong tone of voice: pushy and like a telemarketer. One look on Howard's face- an angry sneer- and I could tell the man was making Potentially Fatal Mistake B. Fortunately for him, the man did not make Horribly Painful And Unspeakably Gory Mistake C, and hurried off.

"Billy, come in. Sarah, keep guarding the door." I came in, Sarah took a menacing spot in front of the door- and there was Paul, fucked up to shit. That's the only way to put it. I didn't get a good look at his body when I saw him yesterday- but looking at him now, and every single bandaged, healing part, it was obvious that he had been seriously scarred several times. Plastic bandages covered several areas of his body. His eyes.. no, they looked the same as when I saw him as a servant, but not before.. ah. His eyes were changed, I remember that his parents were considering getting him close-work glasses, but the Illuminati apparently fixed that before he even reached Damien. A plastic device filled with an odd fluid covered his genital area. Shit. They really can replace his anatomy.. I'll have to find out just what they did some other time. I was less interested in how they managed to do it than relieved that it was being done.

"Billy!! That is you, right?", Paul asked, in the same tone of voice I remember him with, in the same tone of voice I was so used to when we weren't servants, back when the world was a mystery that couldn't be unraveled with a few search words and a few left-clicks of the mouse, back when.. well, we'll always be friends, especially since I'm going to be seeing a lot more of him. For the rest of his life, in fact. Yeah, no more parents around, no more school, just live with your friends, go for it! There's just a small price to pay..

"Yeah, Paul, it's me." I shook my head as I said it, as I got closer and the details of the bandages became more evident. A long scab? Patch it up. Ugly scar? Cut away scar tissue, add special biochemicals, seal closed. On what's left of principle, I avoided looking at his regrowing dick.

"Oh, Billy..", Paul said, holding his arms out. It was all I could do to not cry, to just hold him and pretend for a few instants that everything really would be all right in the end. Ha. What a fucking joke that is.. but he's not in any more immediate suffering and he needs something to hold onto, until he realizes that there's no shelter for him except the power of Howard. "Billy.. tell me this isn't real.. tell me we're going home!", he said, as he grasped onto me for dear life for the second time.

I could not lie to him. "Paul... this is real. But we are going home, as soon as you're healed up." I could feel him wondering for a couple instants where I meant by 'home', until logic crept up on him and pounced, causing him to recoil very slightly. Yes, Paul, it's home, the place you go when your job's done, the place where your family is- that, of course, is an entirely bad metaphor, but except for the technical terminology that details our exact relationship (and causes me to grit my teeth), a 'family' and 'home' would be the best way to put it. Welcome to the fold, Paul.. it's not exactly always pleasant and you're not exactly ever going to be able to leave, but it's a hell of a lot better than where you were.

"He really fucked me up, didn't he.."

The wisecrack just came to me, as they always do, regardless of situation or tact. "Nothing a couple gallons of Neosporin won't cure."

"Aww.. heh heh.." he chuckled, slowly withdrawing his hands. "Howard.. I suppose I have to thank you.. if you're not going to do any of.. that.."

"I'm not, Paul. And I never will.", he said. I remembered what Howard had said about the practice of 'toying', during the first test.

"At least that's a fucking relief.. can I go back to sleep?"

"Yes, Paul, you're going to be doing a lot of that. And if you do wake up, don't fuck with the bandages even if they start to itch. Paul, you're going to be okay now." There was no glimmer of evil in the way Howard said 'okay'. There didn't need to be.. Paul looked at me, smiling faintly (I noticed they had replaced his tooth), and dozed off. I thought we were going to pick up Paul while we were here, but I was wrong; he badly needs sleep and hours of recuperation first.

Well.. shit, it's better than where he was. And at least he'll be with me.. damn. Sorry to have inadvertently dragged you into this, my friend. At least we're never going to get separated again.. because we're shackled together in this plush cage. Arrrgh... fuck, damn! No way to get him out of this, not even sure if 'out of this' is any kind of escape. These people run the world! It's just a matter of directness of control. And now he's being healed and taken care of by the good graces.. no, make that the whim of the most powerful being on the planet. A powerful being who is going to have to deal with idiots accusing him of murder by double proxy. The fools. Even if you do convince everyone else in the organization- which isn't likely- what are you going to do to him? Leave yourself out in the open, he'll flat-out kill you. Stick yourself in a bunker and he'll pour concrete over the air holes. Surround yourself with Enforcers? I think the third test showed exactly what happens with regards to that maneuver.

And, as we quietly left the room, we met one of those fools. The Night Operator stood directly in front of Howard with his arms folded. HELLO?! Are YOU going to try to intimidate HIM?! Maybe I'll end up taking on the role of prophet- I think about people dying due to the stupidity of trying to prosecute him, and what happens next?

Howard moved towards him, quickly- but he didn't rush him as he appeared to start. The Operator took a step back in surprise. "What do you want?", Howard growled at him, and he instinctively took a couple more steps back.

"My.. cousin's son is dead, and I've spent hours working on your servant's dick." Yeah asshole, well maybe if your cousin's son hadn't cut it off, you wouldn't have had to do that! "You.. you'll pay, Howard, you'll pay.. your servants and your 'Daddy' will pay too." Okay. How the HELL do these people get into the organization of the highest elite? Talk about a death wish. He's really going to threaten to attack Howard's retired mentor? The guy's got zero power now- what the hell would that do, other than piss the Dominator off? Maybe that's what he's trying to do. CLUE: Despite how much you want to do it, that's not a good idea!! Surprisingly enough, Howard didn't take him apart- the guy simply turned around and walked the other way. I just shook my head, and Sarah gave a snort of derision.

"Operator.", Howard said, casually on the surface but with absolute authority beneath. The Night Operator turned around quickly and angrily. "You will have my servant returned to my home when he is fully healed." For a moment I thought the Operator was going to do something like give a Nazi salute, but instead, he visibly held his temper, meekly turned around again, and walked off.

"That guy needs a replacement.", Sarah said.

"Really. C'mon, kill him. Just one hit.", I suggested. Maybe I just like to be right in my prophecies, but that guy could actually make trouble for Howard if allowed to live.

"Not yet. Naaaaut yet. He's just pissed. I'll give him some time to get over it and get the hint.", Howard said, and led us to the tram going back to the jet. Yes, that's probably the diplomatic thing to do. But when has diplomacy ever affected this place?

The idiot ran up to us (you'd think he'd learn? Nope, that's why he's an idiot) and started talking in a rather servile voice. "H-How-Howard.. there was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Spit it out.", Howard replied. I could feel the patience leaking out of him.

"Well, I think it's kindofa touchy issue.." Yeah, a lot of things in this place are touchy issues.

"Get. To. The. Point." Or the point will get to you.

"Well, it's about you and your servants and I think there's something going on.." There's more than one way to take that statement. Let's stay away from that, shall we?

"What the FUCK do you think is going on?!" Howard shouted at him, almost out of patience.

"Well, it has to deal with Damien.." That ended it.

Howard's force came out of his mouth instead of his hands, in an insulting, patronizing voice. "Oh! You want to talk to me about Damien! Clue time! Everyone wants to talk to me about Damien. To ask me why, or to get more details, or just to whine at me about general predictable crap. If you want the information, I've put it into the open records. You can get it from the Real News or from the database. But no, you can't have a moment of my time to ask me stuff that I've chosen not to tell everyone else. If you keep pissing me off, I'll kill you, and if your mind allows, have a nice day." The Illuminati-grade tard counted as a blessing the fact that he was still breathing and slunk away. Sarah grinned at him and we got into the tram.

A few minutes later we blasted our way home at about 1200 miles an hour. Like a normal kid on Christmas Eve, I couldn't wait for Paul, and I admonished myself for thinking that way; it's how Howard was thinking before he got me. I should be scared instead- scared that Paul's going to have to fight in our battles, battles of speed and reflexes and instant death. Howard's not going to invite him to any, but if we ever get surprise attacked (a distinct possibility), that might end him right there no matter how many fools and their servants we kill. I was very happy anyway, though, both triumphant and grateful- I'm the one who made it happen and Howard had went right along with it. Hey, he's getting a new servant out of it.

We got home and I looked for the place where Paul's room would be. There wasn't even the beginnings of one, wasn't room for one in the current setup. "Wait a minute. I don't see any rooms added.. did those guys you have even know he was coming?", I asked Howard, who just stood there smirking. Maybe my room- ah, yes. There's still only one bed (doesn't matter- it's big enough for two people not to even notice each other in), but lots of Paul-sized clothing, and two computers in there, seamlessly integrated into the wall, as if they've always been there. How the hell do they do it? That would take a normal work crew weeks! I noticed Howard chuckling from behind me and turned around.

"Billy, I stopped doubting their abilities when I was seven. Can you imagine if all my problems were solved this way?" I nodded. People who got in Howard's way would just kinda die; he wouldn't even have to order it or do it himself. For some reason that got me thinking about telepathic implants. Nah- they'd need to put something in Howard's head for that to work, too, and he wouldn't want that. "I could command them to do things one way or the other, but that would spoil the point. Sometimes they know more than I do. You two really care about each other, don't you?" I understood the question, but it came as a curveball and the way he asked it unnerved me.

"Yeah.. yeah, we do. Howard, I know you have no respect for almost all normals. Paul falls outside the almost all. Wasn't that how the Illuminati got started, with some people realizing they were better than everyone else? Compared to the manipulators, engineereds, and ultra-rare supergeniuses he'd be compared to now, he'd never get in. Not even close. But if this was the year 1776, he'd be invited in a heartbeat." Howard nodded and smiled a bit. "You seem to care about him a lot, too. Why?"

"Because I trust your taste in friends." I know Howard's definition of friend all too well, and I delivered Paul right to him. My God, what have I done? The best thing I could have, I reminded myself. "I know what you're thinking- that I'm favoring him over the various Illuminati who hate me, the Night Operator, the Gladstone family, those guys." He was right. "People only get respect from me if they're on my side, Billy. You three have to be on my side. I will always favor people on my side over those who aren't, no matter what title they hold, because I can remove their title from them right along with their lives."

I realized immediately that his was not a new philosophy in the least. "You're not the first Dominator to say something like that.", I said, and from the smile on his face I could tell that I was right.

"You're beginning to understand how Dominators keep loyalty.", Howard told me, and he was right. "If the buzzer goes off tonight, you pretend to be me, and you answer it.", he said, going to bed. I went to bed as well, finding it hard to sleep, my thoughts all going to Paul. Eventually, I did.

Paul was being tortured in ways that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. I didn't know whether Howard had ordered it or not, but he was just standing there smiling as the screams began. I couldn't take it and screamed too, sitting up in bed. Usual type of nightmare, usual relief at finding out it is, usual flop-back-down and sleep again.

There was a buzz, and I woke up, annoyed. Most likely Howard's going to tell the Illuminatus who buzzed him in the middle of the night to eat shit and die, or Howard would facilitate exactly that.

"Paul's here.", Howard called over the intercom instead. I reacted instantly, rushing downstairs, chiding myself again for acting like a kid on Christmas.

In a few minutes we watched Paul walk in slowly, thinking, looking at us through the window as he opened the door. "Paul, who do you think I am?", Howard asked as he stepped inside. Paul didn't understand at first, but then looked between us- both naked and indistinguishable- and immediately realized what the question meant.

"You're Howard."

"Good, you're able to tell us apart. There might be a time when you won't be." Here it comes.. "Obey him as you do me.", he said. Paul was a bit shocked- this is going to make for some very awkward moments- but he understood why. "I'm surprised you were back so soon. I'm going back to bed." He walked up. I looked at Paul, shrugged, and he followed me up the stairs. Wow, I'm not used to hearing his footsteps, although they're such a welcome sound.

"Just one bed?", Paul asked, quietly. I nodded. "Yeah, it's big enough.", he said, undressing and getting in. "Woah, this is a lot nicer." I didn't ask what it was a lot nicer than, just getting in. The moment I was in, he grabbed me, throwing his arms over my chest and clutching me like a life raft, or like a bodyguard cyborg teddy bear that could kill all the monsters threatening him. "Billy, I'm so glad I'm not alone anymore...", he whispered into my ear.

'Don't bother whispering', I almost said, before I realized that that would be a command. Crap, I'm going to have to rephrase with my best friend! "You don't have to whisper, Paul.", I told him.

"Why not? I know you have really good hearing.", he continued to whisper, letting go a bit.

"Because the room's soundproof."

"Soundproof?", he asked, no longer whispering. "Why?"

"Because I've been waking up screaming every single night, uncontrollably, at the top of my lungs, ever since I was implanted. I've already screamed tonight, and I only do it once, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear what I'm talking about."

"Holy shit! Billy, I had no idea, I'm sorry man!"

"It's all right. It's not that big a deal. It's just dreams, really bad ones, but my brain's not actually being hurt by them."

"Oh.. all right. That's fine. If it's just dreams." He went back to clutching me.

"Paul.." I didn't need to ask why- it's obvious. He's a terrified normal kid who has had unspeakable acts done to him and mind control implants in his head. He's just plain scared, scared of everything that might happen, scared of the things he remembers. I've never seen Paul like this before, but then again, that was back when things like grades and skinned knees were a big deal. I don't know if he ever stopped holding onto me that night, as I fell asleep.