Who Is Number Seven?

ONE is ALL, EACH and EVERY one
TWO has the DREAM that LEADS US ON
THREE is the BEAST that FIGHTS to SURVIVE
FOUR is the MACHINE that KEEPS US ALIVE
FIVE is the ANGEL that SEES US THROUGH
SIX is the DEVIL that GIVES HER DUE

WHO is NUMBER SEVEN?

Two minds shared one skull, looking at a garish, cheaply printed promotional poster for M-Seven. Jinx seized the moment when Peter weakened and began to feed on him. His thoughts and instinctual reactions began to flow into her. Pushing her psychic advantage, she dissolved the borders delimiting her inner world. His personality, stunned and dazed, could see what she saw, and feel what she felt.

The flow of energy never seemed to end. She felt intoxicated.

She walked into the common area of the refugee camp wearing a giddy smile. The residents ignored her, although a few of them gave her fearful looks and hurried away, carrying bundles full of their few personal possessions on their backs. One old-looking woman, mane streaked with grey, held her scrawny baby closer, and turned away to shield him from Jinx's gaze.

Jinx felt a surge of sentimental warmth as she realized that that woman and her child would likely have died were it not for the food and medicine secured by her recent raids on cargo ships. Her mind toyed with the unaccustomed emotion, and as she grasped it, she felt a certain sadness that the woman was afraid of her benefactor.

Everyone had left. She was -- or, more exactly, they were -- alone.

Peter's voice in her mental ear sounded drowsy, almost sedated. "Why are they scared of you?"

"They think I'm the devil."

"You aren't? I'm having trouble concentrating..." Peter's mental voice was weak.

"Don't be. I promised I'd prove you wrong, and I keep my promises." Jinx, on the other hand, seemed stronger than ever. She was animated -- she paced, pointed, and seemed enchanted by the world and the things in it.

"How's that coming?" Peter was tired, and seemed to be fading away.

"Poorly. Did you see how that poster just sort of jumped out at us when we walked into the living quarters? "

"Yeah. It was impossible to ignore."

"Well, look in the corners of the room." Jinx pointed to the tent poles holding up the walls to the sleeping area. Each had a polished circle carved into their shafts. "Little stylized eyes, watching everything you do. No dividing walls, no privacy." Jinx was agitated.

"I don't think I follow you."

"It's a conditioning chamber. The subject is either given a positive stimulus, or has a negative stimulus removed, and is placed in a controlled environment where they know they're being watched. In this case, by providing food and shelter, we lessen survival pressures. Then the subject is exposed to a stimulus -- like that poster. The result is a sensitization, an enhanced response."

"To what?"

"The poster asks, 'Who is Number Seven?'. The answer, implicitly, is 'You are'. Given a population that's already being selected by a hostile environment --"

"--you mean people who are used to starving on the street --"

"--you have a pretty good chance of finding people who can beat the odds, who have a little edge. Feed them, and tell them a story where they may be the hero, and you've got an organized mob, the nucleus of an army."

"So you agree with me? You agree that this operation is a real threat?" Peter was obviously weary, but seemed to recover a little strength as he saw his idea validated.

"I need to understand what you are thinking before I can tear it apart. There's some superficial evidence to support your point of view. In fact, I see evidence that Demonslayer is trying to sensitize people with unusual survival skills -- stuff like precognition and probability manipulation. Most people who have abilities like that never notice them, and they're common powers in the general population." Jinx twitched a little. An observer could be forgiven for thinking that she was high on cocaine or in the middle of a powerful manic episode.

"The idea that bad guys care about the truth is a new one on me."

"I do, and the buzz I'm getting from your life energy makes it easy and fun!"

"You suck." Peter paused for a little. "What about the consequences of your actions? Do you ever seek the truth about them?"

"Cognitive dissonance is a girls' best friend." Jinx was flippant.

"Cognitive dissonance isn't just for bad people. We're cops, and we're supposed to protect and help the innocent, right? Except actually doing the job means giving people a hard time -- even if they didn't do anything wrong." Peter's ebbing strength made him become reflective.

This carried over to Jinx, who paused her pacing for a moment of thought. "I don't think the problem is thinking social norms don't apply to you. I think the problem is thinking they don't apply to anyone."

"Anomie is a pretty word." Peter seemed to be falling asleep.

"Yes, but a terrible concept. I have to deal with people like that all the damned time, and it's tiring always having to watch your back." The thoughtful moment was persisting longer than Jinx had expected.

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"Oh really?"

"No. You can choose to deal with people who aren't like that."

This stopped Jinx cold. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable with herself.

"I'm a lion, seeking whom I may devour. How should someone like me survive in polite society?" Jinx's inner voice was sad.

"The same way the animal does -- by consuming the sick and the weak."

"You're not thinking clearly."

"No, I'm not. I'm just trying to understand what you are." They both paused for a long moment. "I can't hold on anymore. I think I'm ready to go."

"Just a minute. I'll help."

Inside Jinx's mindscape, the light had faded. Peter lay, emaciated and trembling, on the undefined ground. Jinx walked to him, and he struggled to lift his head to look at her.

Jinx's eyes glowed with a brilliant blue light. She knelt down to look at him. Peter was trembling. "I'm very weak. I'm not sure I can make it."

"You can. It's not that far." She felt sad, and did not know why.

Peter lay his head back on the ground. "I'm scared."

"It will be over soon."

"Promise me you'll stop Demonslayer's plan." Peter did not look at Jinx. He was trembling.

"I will. I swear it."

Peter rolled into a ball, and with great effort rolled over on all fours. He lifted his head and looked at the threshold into the eternal darkness.

"Thank you." His jaw set, and he dragged himself on his hands and knees over the threshold.

Jinx remained for a long moment, kneeling and looking into the abyss. She shook her head, rose to her feet, and re-entered the world of the living.

She opened her eyes, and saw a young man in ragged clothes point a plasma rifle at her. Jinx scowled at him. "Put that thing down."

"I heard voices." The young man was obviously nervous. "Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that was just a magical excercise. It's like meditation, but out loud."

"Uh-huh. And who's that guy standing next to you?" The young man was suspicious.

Jinx looked to her left, and could not contain her shock.

"Please don't kill him." The man who shouldn't be there was whispering to her. Jinx recovered her composure.

"Oh, you SUCK!"