Angie and Rollie stared around the room with shock and amazement.
One wall of the room was covered by a bank of computer equipment and other
machines. Some sort of robotic laser drill was molding a piece of
plastic into the rough shape of a human face. More in the center
of the room was a long, circular meeting desk, around which about fifteen
people could sit. Along another wall was a large, flatscreen TV,
along with a marker board, some charts, maps, and diagrams.
But what amazed them the most was the people in the room.
At the sound of the elevator chime, eleven people turned their heads to
look at the visitors.
Every one of those people was Loubar.
"That's right," said their escort. He smirked. "I'd like you
to meet my fellow brothers. Victor One, Victor Two, Victor Four,
Victor Five, Victor Six, Victor Eight, Victor Nine, Victor Ten, Victor
Eleven, Victor Thirteen, and finally, Victor Fourteen."
Each of the Loubars smiled menacingly. "Now you see," said the Loubar
in the elevator, "how I managed to die and then come back to life.
It was a tragic loss, losing Victor Three. We are all mourning his
loss.
"I am Victor Seven. But you may simply call me Loubar, as I will
be the one escorting you around our facility for the duration of your stay."
Loubar motioned for them to get out of the elevator, and the doors shut
behind him.
"Are you all clones?" said Rollie, a touch of awe creeping into his voice.
"Some of us," said Loubar, grinning. "Some of us have been surgically
altered. And then, some of us, such as Victor Twelve, your friend
from the hospital, simply wear masks." He pointed to the robotic
laser, which had just finished molding another plastic face mold.
"Well then," continued Loubar. "We are extremely behind schedule.
Angela, Victor Two here will tend to your ankle and other injuries.
He's trained in first aid and has some extra experience in the medical
field. He should be able to relieve some of the discomfort.
Then you'll get to work."
"First aid?" said Rollie, incredulously. "Jesus, she needs
a doctor! She could have serious injuries we don't even know
about!"
Loubar
was suddenly directly in front of Rollie, grabbing his shirt.
"Listen,
Tyler,"
he said. "I don't think you're in a position to make demands.
You should feel fortunate we're letting you live. As I think I've
told you before, we don't need you. So, I recommend you sit down
and shut up." He pushed Rollie into a chair, then turned back
to Victor Two. "Take good care of her," he said. "She's important."
"Yes Victor," answered Victor two. "Sit down here," he said to Angie,
motioning for her to sit down in one of the chairs around the conference
table.
"So, Loubar," said Rollie, to Victor Seven. "Why exactly are you
letting me live? I mean, you've taken Angie and I to your, uh, top
secret hideout." He chuckled. "It's not much of a secret
any more, Loubar. We could tell everyone. They'll come here
and capture you, and all the other Loubars. By bringing us down here,
you've just destroyed everything you and your 'brothers' have worked to
create."
"It's not my choice," said Loubar Seven, sharply. "Let's say someone
has a soft spot for you."
"By 'someone' I assume you mean the original Loubar."
Loubar looked around, and first time, looked slightly nervous. "Yes,"
he said, quietly. "Besides," he said, his voice strengthening, "we'll
be long gone by the time you could bring the cavalry back here ..."
"So," said Angie, quietly, to Victor Two. "Which one are you?
Surgically altered? Clone? Or are you just wearing a mask?"
"It's -- it's a mask," mumbled Victor Two.
"You must be new at this," said Angie. "You don't have the 'Loubar
confidence', I noticed."
He didn't answer.
"Can I ask you another question?" said Angie.
He looked up, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Which one of you posed as Rollie when Loubar ... when he raped me?"
Loubar hesitated. "That ... that was Victor Ten. He was altered
by ... by plastic surgery. He's the most superior one of us, other
than McCoy."
Angie frowned. "McCoy?"
"Oh yeah ... McCoy is what we call the ... the original Victor."
"Like 'the real McCoy?'"
"Uh, yeah. But ... but I shouldn't be telling you this," he said,
almost whispering.
"Then why are you?" said Angie. Suddenly pain shot up her ankle.
"Sorry," apologized Victor Two. Then his voice lowered until she
could barely hear him. "I -- I'm telling you this because ... I really
don't know. They're ... they're forcing me to do this. Be a
Victor."
Angie surprised herself that she felt sympathy toward him. "Who were
you before you ... you became a Loubar?".
"I ... I was a small time crook. Nothing big. A bank robbery
or two, I stole a few cars. Then, one day, a Loubar ... Victor Ten,
actually, showed up. He offered me the best sounding job in the world.
He said it was easy, and I wouldn't have to worry about money again."
"Was he right?"
"At first. But then, they started making me do stuff ... it's just
too much. I want to stop, but they won't let me. They say that,
if I leave, they'll have to kill me." He stood up, and his voice
changed so he sounded louder, and more confident. "So, that's the
best I can do. Does it feel better?"
Angie felt her bandaged ankle, then slowly stood up and put her weight
on it. "Yeah," she said. "Thank you."
Victor Two said nothing, but their eyes met for a moment. She felt
his fear, his lonliness. Angie knew he hadn't been lying. He
didn't like this place, pretending to be Loubar. He wanted to get
out. He was scared.
She wished she could do something to help him.