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Blueprints for Perfection

Chapter Four: God

"Take this medicine, and I'll be back to check on you later," said Reese as he handed DeFoe a few pills.

DeFoe sat on his bed and stared at the pills. "Can't you just heal me?"

"I'm not certain what in you is broken," Reese said crossing the bedroom. "As far as I can tell, your back spasmed for no foreseeable reason and is sorting itself out. You have been stressed lately. Understandably so. This medicine will help you relax, which will relax the muscles in your back."

"Are you sure you're not just sick of looking after me?" DeFoe asked.

Reese smiled. "I am, but that isn't the point." He opened the door and then looked back. "That was a joke, DeFoe. Don't lose your head."

DeFoe laughed halfheartedly and twirled the pills in his hand. Just an ordinary spasm? No way was that ordinary. It was a curse or some sort of disease he had contracted from his encounters with the Professor and his titans. There was nothing natural about it. Pretty soon Reese would see that too.

"Are you going to take them?"

DeFoe looked up at Austin. He looked back down at the medicine and then put the pills into his mouth. He washed it down with the bottle of water by his bed. "I'll take them. Not that they'll help anything."

"If Dr. Reese thinks they'll help, I think they will," said Austin, checking his watch.

"Reese has been wrong before," DeFoe snapped. Not that he could think of when he had been wrong.

Austin purposefully didn't say anything. "Do you want to play cards?" he asked. "Guggenheim and the rest will be in a meeting for quite some time, yet."

"Pft. I'm glad to see my tragedy didn't cause too much of a stir."

"What do you want them to do, DeFoe? Carry you?"

DeFoe crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. Austin crossed his legs and sat on the floor. He began shuffling the cards. DeFoe sank to the floor and crossed his legs. Austin dealt two cards to DeFoe.

"Do you know how to play Black Jack?" Austin asked.

"Of course," DeFoe answered, looking at his cards. Austin looked at his own cards. "Hit me." Austin passed DeFoe another card. They didn't talk. They just played the game in the perfect silence of DeFoe's room.

In ten minutes, the air conditioner kicked on. DeFoe had never been good at Black Jack. He always pushed too hard and ended up with a number like 27. He was about to ask for another card, hoping for a two, when something crashed into the ceiling.

"What was that?" asked Austin, who was already standing.

"How should I know?" DeFoe asked, slowly getting to his feet.

"We should check it out," said Austin, heading for the door.

DeFoe followed behind him. "Or we could let Huntik handle it," he called after him. "That's what they're for, isn't it?"

"You forget that we are Huntik, as well," Austin replied without pausing his stride.

DeFoe stopped walking. "Only in the most general sense," he muttered. He let Austin hurry off, and stood by himself in the dark hallway.

Whatever had hit the roof worried DeFoe. The trees surrounding the Foundation were not tall enough to drop branches on the roof. The only thing DeFoe could think of that might have fallen in the storm is some shingles from one of the higher roofs onto a lower one. But an entire chimney would have had to fall to make a sound like that. More likely, in DeFoe's mind, was the heavy feet of an enemy titan, sent by the Professor to annihilate DeFoe. With this in mind, investigating the sound was the last thing DeFoe wanted to do.

DeFoe walked down the hallway, glancing around, trying not to imagine Rassimov and the Professor's eyes glinting from every shadowy corner. DeFoe jolted to a halt; up ahead was the figure of a man. The man turned and walked towards him.

It was Austin.

DeFoe sighed and tried to breathe away his pounding heart. Austin stood there as stern as ever; stood there in that dark and flashing hallway.

"Dr. Reese is on the roof. He wants me to meet him there," Austin said.

"What about me?" DeFoe asked.

Austin didn't think this was an offensive question. "I presume he wants you there, but did not think you would come."

"Why doesn't he think I'd come?" asked DeFoe.

"Because it's late, raining, and there is no benefit for you," Austin replied as a matter of fact.

"I—I don't always need direct benefit to do tings," DeFoe protested unhappily. "Don't you remember that I saved you?"

"You and Dr. Reese saved me," Austin corrected.

"Yes…but I did that, too. To my great discomfort, I might add."

"I wasn't saying anything against you," Austin explained. "I am just stating the facts as I see them."

"Well they seem fairly subjective," DeFoe said.

Austin paused. "I need to go to the roof," he said. "Dr. Reese is waiting."

"Of course."

There was another pause.

"Do you want to come?" Austin asked.

DeFoe really didn't want to come actually, but he had made too big a deal out of it already. Declining was not an option, so he said yes. He jogged behind Austin as they made it to the stairs and then walked out onto the roof balcony.

DeFoe half expected to see Dracula soaring towards them from the distance; it was that sort of night. Dark, windy, cold, wet, flashing and loud. A Dracula-like figure was standing on the shingles on the edge of the roof. Austin climbed over the balcony and DeFoe knew it was Reese. The doctor's coat whipped in the hurricane winds, snapping around him like wet leather. Reese was on his knees, focused on a dark mass at his feet. DeFoe struggled over the balcony railing and inched towards Austin and the doctor. When he arrived and dropped to his knees for better support – so he wouldn't be blown off the roof – he saw the woman at Reese's feet.

DeFoe inched toward Reese and his patient. "What is it?" DeFoe called over the roar of the wind.

Reese glanced up. "Oh good, you're here." He reached for DeFoe's hand. DeFoe offered it, assuming Reese needed help standing back up; he was approaching seventy, after all. Reese grabbed DeFoe's hand and used it to yank him down.

"I need you to help deep heal this girl," said Dr. Reese as if DeFoe's compliance was a given. DeFoe didn't appreciate how much Reese thought he knew.

"If you haven't noticed, Dr. Reese, I am having trouble with—"

"—with your titans. Not your magic," snapped the doctor.

DeFoe bit his lip. He sighed. "Fine." DeFoe placed his hands on the shivering woman and spoke "Deep heal." His fingers glowed orange and the glow left and travelled into her skin, which there was lots of. Poor woman, DeFoe found himself thinking as he spoke another bout of deep heal.

Her hands were tangled up in her wet clothes…no, wait, they were actually tied to her belt. DeFoe's heart stopped for a moment and he sweat despite the freezing rain. He didn't know why he hadn't seen it before: the black slacks, the stiff white shirt, the straight black tie… this woman was an Organization suit.

"I think she's coming to."

DeFoe broke out of his ponderings for a moment and watched her face with Reese and Austin.

Her lips, blue from cold, parted and she breathed in more intentionally than before. She opened her eyes and the water on her eyelids dripped into them. She blinked and yanked at her hands.

"Poison fang," DeFoe commanded at the ropes. They disintegrated, but her hands didn't continue their path to her eyes. Instead, they fell flat against the shingles.

"We need to get her inside," Reese said as he looked around for the safest way down.

"Are you sure?" DeFoe asked. "Might she have spinal issues?"

"I can't tell in this weather," Reese replied. "If she does, I will be able to heal her once we are inside and I have my tools." He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and carefully held her under her arms.

"DeFoe, Austin, your help in carrying her, please."

Austin crouched immediately and grabbed her legs. The woman awoke again and looked around briefly as they lifted her up. Her eyes landed on DeFoe and she gasped.

DeFoe looked behind himself and then back at her. Why was she making such a face?

"It's you," she croaked. "You're DeFoe."

Reese and Austin looked at DeFoe. DeFoe stared back and shrugged.

"How do you know me?" DeFoe asked.

"We can talk as we walk," Reese said, starting the trek.

The weight in their arms disappeared and the men were sent wobbling backwards, falling to their knees and gripping shingles for balance. DeFoe looked around desperately, trying to find the suit. They must have dropped her in that gust of wind. But she was nowhere to be found.

Oh no. DeFoe crawled to the edge of the building, not looking forward to seeing her crushed on the pavement below. Fortunately, he didn't have to; she wasn't there, either.

"Where did she go?" he asked.

"I have no idea!" Reese said frantically. "Maybe she fell through the roof or opened a portal or—"

"Is that really a possibility?" Austin asked.

Reese looked hard at both of them. "I don't know," he admitted. "But what I do know is that she needs immediate medical attention and the longer we stand here talking about it, the less chance she has of surviving. Austin." Austin looked alert. "You are the most fit for climbing around on rooftops. You stay up here and look for her. I will look for her on the ground, and DeFoe, you look for her inside."

"There is no way she ended up inside!" DeFoe protested, trying to wipe the water out of his glasses with his fingers.

"It's possible," Reese insisted. "And besides: it isn't safe for you to stray too far from the safety of the building. Right now, the Organization could pluck you right out of the sky."

"Point taken," said DeFoe, and he picked his way back to the balcony.

DeFoe walked down the hallways, checking in rooms, somewhat halfheartedly. Reese was crazy. There was no way that woman had ended up inside the building. On the other hand, DeFoe didn't mind being out of the rain. He went down the stairs into the basement and turned on the lights.

DeFoe heard a thump in the closet beside him. He hesitated a moment, deciding whether it was worth the trouble to look. Eh, what did it hurt? He tried the knob, but it was locked.

"Poison fang," he whispered, as though he were afraid someone would hear.

The doorknob melted and DeFoe kicked open the door. Lying on the floor, underneath the mops and paint cans she had knocked over, was the woman from the roof. DeFoe hurried inside and dug her out.

She looked even worse than before. Her skin was pasty with unnatural sweat and she stared at DeFoe so steadily that she looked dead.

"I've found her," DeFoe said into his walkie-talkie. "I'm in the basement."

"DeFoe," the woman rasped. DeFoe glanced at her.

"I'm on my way," said Reese on the other end. "Tell her to hold on."

"I guess you heard that, so I don't need to repeat it," said DeFoe glancing around. The woman grabbed his arm. Startled, DeFoe yanked it away.

"I didn't think I'd make it here," she said.

"Yes, well, make it a little longer, alright?" DeFoe said. The woman grabbed for him again but he moved.

"Everyone in the Organization knows about you," she said.

DeFoe's heart stopped. "Are you a spy? Are you here to bring me back to the… to the Pr— to him? Tell me or I'll end you."

"The prisoners know you," she clarified. "And I suppose the suits, too. There isn't any hiding it anymore, especially in the way the experiments have continued."

"Experiments?" DeFoe croaked.

"He's trying to make more like you but he's failing. Most of us turn out like me." She winced and DeFoe noticed her breath had gotten heavy.

"Like you…" DeFoe said numbly.

"Failures. We're dying."

DeFoe pressed the walkie-talkie to his mouth. "She's dying, Reese! Get over here!"

"Well, do something about it! I'm coming as fast as I can," Reese replied, out of breath. He probably was coming as fast as he could. The Foundation building was pretty large.

DeFoe swallowed but his mouth was dry. He didn't know what to do except deep heal. So he set the walkie-talkie on the floor and scooted closer.

"Your arm is injured," he mentioned.

"Is it?" the woman looked to her left. "So it is. That arm's been numb since last week."

DeFoe quickly healed the gash and then moved on to Deep Healing. The woman grabbed his hand and this time he didn't pull away.

"You have to help them. You're like a god to us. No one who can will stand up against the Professor, and those who are willing, can't. Get Huntik to attack. However you want to do it. Just don't let this go on."

DeFoe didn't know what to say.

"Can you do that?"

"I don't think—"

"Promise you'll do that."

"I'm really not in a position to—"

"Promise."

"I—"

"Promise!"

"Fine."

The woman sighed. "And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"My name is Sandra Sotka. Please don't forget me."

"Why—"

"Because everyone else has."

DeFoe hesitated. "Sorry about that," he said. "Just lie still and wait. Dr. Reese is on his way."

Sandra closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as DeFoe continued to deep heal. "Okay."

But Sandra didn't wait. She was dead when Reese arrived; DeFoe looked near death as well.

Description
Blueprints for Perfection

Chapter Four: God

"Take this medicine, and I'll be back to check on you later," said Reese as he handed DeFoe a few pills.

DeFoe sat on his bed and stared at the pills. "Can't you just heal me?"

"I'm not certain what in you is broken," Reese said crossing the bedroom. "As far as I can tell, your back spasmed for no foreseeable reason and is sorting itself out. You have been stressed lately. Understandably so. This medicine will help you relax, which will relax the muscles in your back."

"Are you sure you're not just sick of looking after me?" DeFoe asked.

Reese smiled. "I am, but that isn't the point." He opened the door and then looked back. "That was a joke, DeFoe. Don't lose your head."

DeFoe laughed halfheartedly and twirled the pills in his hand. Just an ordinary spasm? No way was that ordinary. It was a curse or some sort of disease he had contracted from his encounters with the Professor and his titans. There was nothing natural about it. Pretty soon Reese would see that too.

"Are you going to take them?"

DeFoe looked up at Austin. He looked back down at the medicine and then put the pills into his mouth. He washed it down with the bottle of water by his bed. "I'll take them. Not that they'll help anything."

"If Dr. Reese thinks they'll help, I think they will," said Austin, checking his watch.

"Reese has been wrong before," DeFoe snapped. Not that he could think of when he had been wrong.

Austin purposefully didn't say anything. "Do you want to play cards?" he asked. "Guggenheim and the rest will be in a meeting for quite some time, yet."

"Pft. I'm glad to see my tragedy didn't cause too much of a stir."

"What do you want them to do, DeFoe? Carry you?"

DeFoe crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. Austin crossed his legs and sat on the floor. He began shuffling the cards. DeFoe sank to the floor and crossed his legs. Austin dealt two cards to DeFoe.

"Do you know how to play Black Jack?" Austin asked.

"Of course," DeFoe answered, looking at his cards. Austin looked at his own cards. "Hit me." Austin passed DeFoe another card. They didn't talk. They just played the game in the perfect silence of DeFoe's room.

In ten minutes, the air conditioner kicked on. DeFoe had never been good at Black Jack. He always pushed too hard and ended up with a number like 27. He was about to ask for another card, hoping for a two, when something crashed into the ceiling.

"What was that?" asked Austin, who was already standing.

"How should I know?" DeFoe asked, slowly getting to his feet.

"We should check it out," said Austin, heading for the door.

DeFoe followed behind him. "Or we could let Huntik handle it," he called after him. "That's what they're for, isn't it?"

"You forget that we are Huntik, as well," Austin replied without pausing his stride.

DeFoe stopped walking. "Only in the most general sense," he muttered. He let Austin hurry off, and stood by himself in the dark hallway.

Whatever had hit the roof worried DeFoe. The trees surrounding the Foundation were not tall enough to drop branches on the roof. The only thing DeFoe could think of that might have fallen in the storm is some shingles from one of the higher roofs onto a lower one. But an entire chimney would have had to fall to make a sound like that. More likely, in DeFoe's mind, was the heavy feet of an enemy titan, sent by the Professor to annihilate DeFoe. With this in mind, investigating the sound was the last thing DeFoe wanted to do.

DeFoe walked down the hallway, glancing around, trying not to imagine Rassimov and the Professor's eyes glinting from every shadowy corner. DeFoe jolted to a halt; up ahead was the figure of a man. The man turned and walked towards him.

It was Austin.

DeFoe sighed and tried to breathe away his pounding heart. Austin stood there as stern as ever; stood there in that dark and flashing hallway.

"Dr. Reese is on the roof. He wants me to meet him there," Austin said.

"What about me?" DeFoe asked.

Austin didn't think this was an offensive question. "I presume he wants you there, but did not think you would come."

"Why doesn't he think I'd come?" asked DeFoe.

"Because it's late, raining, and there is no benefit for you," Austin replied as a matter of fact.

"I—I don't always need direct benefit to do tings," DeFoe protested unhappily. "Don't you remember that I saved you?"

"You and Dr. Reese saved me," Austin corrected.

"Yes…but I did that, too. To my great discomfort, I might add."

"I wasn't saying anything against you," Austin explained. "I am just stating the facts as I see them."

"Well they seem fairly subjective," DeFoe said.

Austin paused. "I need to go to the roof," he said. "Dr. Reese is waiting."

"Of course."

There was another pause.

"Do you want to come?" Austin asked.

DeFoe really didn't want to come actually, but he had made too big a deal out of it already. Declining was not an option, so he said yes. He jogged behind Austin as they made it to the stairs and then walked out onto the roof balcony.

DeFoe half expected to see Dracula soaring towards them from the distance; it was that sort of night. Dark, windy, cold, wet, flashing and loud. A Dracula-like figure was standing on the shingles on the edge of the roof. Austin climbed over the balcony and DeFoe knew it was Reese. The doctor's coat whipped in the hurricane winds, snapping around him like wet leather. Reese was on his knees, focused on a dark mass at his feet. DeFoe struggled over the balcony railing and inched towards Austin and the doctor. When he arrived and dropped to his knees for better support – so he wouldn't be blown off the roof – he saw the woman at Reese's feet.

DeFoe inched toward Reese and his patient. "What is it?" DeFoe called over the roar of the wind.

Reese glanced up. "Oh good, you're here." He reached for DeFoe's hand. DeFoe offered it, assuming Reese needed help standing back up; he was approaching seventy, after all. Reese grabbed DeFoe's hand and used it to yank him down.

"I need you to help deep heal this girl," said Dr. Reese as if DeFoe's compliance was a given. DeFoe didn't appreciate how much Reese thought he knew.

"If you haven't noticed, Dr. Reese, I am having trouble with—"

"—with your titans. Not your magic," snapped the doctor.

DeFoe bit his lip. He sighed. "Fine." DeFoe placed his hands on the shivering woman and spoke "Deep heal." His fingers glowed orange and the glow left and travelled into her skin, which there was lots of. Poor woman, DeFoe found himself thinking as he spoke another bout of deep heal.

Her hands were tangled up in her wet clothes…no, wait, they were actually tied to her belt. DeFoe's heart stopped for a moment and he sweat despite the freezing rain. He didn't know why he hadn't seen it before: the black slacks, the stiff white shirt, the straight black tie… this woman was an Organization suit.

"I think she's coming to."

DeFoe broke out of his ponderings for a moment and watched her face with Reese and Austin.

Her lips, blue from cold, parted and she breathed in more intentionally than before. She opened her eyes and the water on her eyelids dripped into them. She blinked and yanked at her hands.

"Poison fang," DeFoe commanded at the ropes. They disintegrated, but her hands didn't continue their path to her eyes. Instead, they fell flat against the shingles.

"We need to get her inside," Reese said as he looked around for the safest way down.

"Are you sure?" DeFoe asked. "Might she have spinal issues?"

"I can't tell in this weather," Reese replied. "If she does, I will be able to heal her once we are inside and I have my tools." He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and carefully held her under her arms.

"DeFoe, Austin, your help in carrying her, please."

Austin crouched immediately and grabbed her legs. The woman awoke again and looked around briefly as they lifted her up. Her eyes landed on DeFoe and she gasped.

DeFoe looked behind himself and then back at her. Why was she making such a face?

"It's you," she croaked. "You're DeFoe."

Reese and Austin looked at DeFoe. DeFoe stared back and shrugged.

"How do you know me?" DeFoe asked.

"We can talk as we walk," Reese said, starting the trek.

The weight in their arms disappeared and the men were sent wobbling backwards, falling to their knees and gripping shingles for balance. DeFoe looked around desperately, trying to find the suit. They must have dropped her in that gust of wind. But she was nowhere to be found.

Oh no. DeFoe crawled to the edge of the building, not looking forward to seeing her crushed on the pavement below. Fortunately, he didn't have to; she wasn't there, either.

"Where did she go?" he asked.

"I have no idea!" Reese said frantically. "Maybe she fell through the roof or opened a portal or—"

"Is that really a possibility?" Austin asked.

Reese looked hard at both of them. "I don't know," he admitted. "But what I do know is that she needs immediate medical attention and the longer we stand here talking about it, the less chance she has of surviving. Austin." Austin looked alert. "You are the most fit for climbing around on rooftops. You stay up here and look for her. I will look for her on the ground, and DeFoe, you look for her inside."

"There is no way she ended up inside!" DeFoe protested, trying to wipe the water out of his glasses with his fingers.

"It's possible," Reese insisted. "And besides: it isn't safe for you to stray too far from the safety of the building. Right now, the Organization could pluck you right out of the sky."

"Point taken," said DeFoe, and he picked his way back to the balcony.

DeFoe walked down the hallways, checking in rooms, somewhat halfheartedly. Reese was crazy. There was no way that woman had ended up inside the building. On the other hand, DeFoe didn't mind being out of the rain. He went down the stairs into the basement and turned on the lights.

DeFoe heard a thump in the closet beside him. He hesitated a moment, deciding whether it was worth the trouble to look. Eh, what did it hurt? He tried the knob, but it was locked.

"Poison fang," he whispered, as though he were afraid someone would hear.

The doorknob melted and DeFoe kicked open the door. Lying on the floor, underneath the mops and paint cans she had knocked over, was the woman from the roof. DeFoe hurried inside and dug her out.

She looked even worse than before. Her skin was pasty with unnatural sweat and she stared at DeFoe so steadily that she looked dead.

"I've found her," DeFoe said into his walkie-talkie. "I'm in the basement."

"DeFoe," the woman rasped. DeFoe glanced at her.

"I'm on my way," said Reese on the other end. "Tell her to hold on."

"I guess you heard that, so I don't need to repeat it," said DeFoe glancing around. The woman grabbed his arm. Startled, DeFoe yanked it away.

"I didn't think I'd make it here," she said.

"Yes, well, make it a little longer, alright?" DeFoe said. The woman grabbed for him again but he moved.

"Everyone in the Organization knows about you," she said.

DeFoe's heart stopped. "Are you a spy? Are you here to bring me back to the… to the Pr— to him? Tell me or I'll end you."

"The prisoners know you," she clarified. "And I suppose the suits, too. There isn't any hiding it anymore, especially in the way the experiments have continued."

"Experiments?" DeFoe croaked.

"He's trying to make more like you but he's failing. Most of us turn out like me." She winced and DeFoe noticed her breath had gotten heavy.

"Like you…" DeFoe said numbly.

"Failures. We're dying."

DeFoe pressed the walkie-talkie to his mouth. "She's dying, Reese! Get over here!"

"Well, do something about it! I'm coming as fast as I can," Reese replied, out of breath. He probably was coming as fast as he could. The Foundation building was pretty large.

DeFoe swallowed but his mouth was dry. He didn't know what to do except deep heal. So he set the walkie-talkie on the floor and scooted closer.

"Your arm is injured," he mentioned.

"Is it?" the woman looked to her left. "So it is. That arm's been numb since last week."

DeFoe quickly healed the gash and then moved on to Deep Healing. The woman grabbed his hand and this time he didn't pull away.

"You have to help them. You're like a god to us. No one who can will stand up against the Professor, and those who are willing, can't. Get Huntik to attack. However you want to do it. Just don't let this go on."

DeFoe didn't know what to say.

"Can you do that?"

"I don't think—"

"Promise you'll do that."

"I'm really not in a position to—"

"Promise."

"I—"

"Promise!"

"Fine."

The woman sighed. "And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"My name is Sandra Sotka. Please don't forget me."

"Why—"

"Because everyone else has."

DeFoe hesitated. "Sorry about that," he said. "Just lie still and wait. Dr. Reese is on his way."

Sandra closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing as DeFoe continued to deep heal. "Okay."

But Sandra didn't wait. She was dead when Reese arrived; DeFoe looked near death as well.