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Mar 4 08 9:54 PM
Mar 4 08 11:00 PM
With her final statement, the little clone's body went limp. Betsy lowered him delicately to the floor, careful not to inadvertently
bump another clone into being as she did so. She had no idea if his being awake had anything to do with the way they were produced, but she must be cautious,
because while she was not directly watching the panic behind her, she was aware from the strange popping noises that with every goofy flailing scramble for
cover, the Madroxes were growing ever larger in number.
Betsy paused in a crouch over this single body with one hand tenderly pressed against his back, feeling the panicked hammer of his heart
as it gradually slowed. She watched him intently to make sure that strangulation was indeed a sound method of breaking the chain of rapid-clone-generation.
When it became obvious that he was not going to spawn again, she slowly stood and looked around, eager to seek out her next test
"Tch," she crossed her arms sourly as she examined the sea of naked foreheads. She had no idea how many there were now.
"Zero, you are not doing your job!"
Despite the frustration of her tone, Betsy was delighted by what was happening. She hadn't
expected them to go skittish so soon, and had more or less been disappointed by their frantic scrambling, since it made her job less about testing new combat
theories and more about trying to catch the idiots and shepherd them back into the center of the room without alerting anyone else in the house as to what was
going on. But now, blessed be, they seemed to have grown a collective set of testicles with which to confront her tyranny, and now the game she'd had her
heart set on would finally, truly begin.
Now it was like a Danger Room session. Only now, it would be so much better than it could ever be with the machines,
because here was an adaptive, unpredictable, emotional being of flesh and blood, with an honest-to-god human brain for her mental powers to
carve into, an enemy that could multiply at will as well as with every punch and kick and throw she made. It was clear in watching their bold stand against her
that every multiple could multiply to an unknown degree. So long as they could strike themselves, they could regenerate their forces. They could go on and on
and on forever, if they so willed it, drowning her in Jamies, cornering her unto exhaustion, crushing her to death, and she would have no way to defeat them,
because every blow she landed would only make them stronger.
This was like Christmas and her birthday all at once!
But no, she must maintain character. It wasn't any fun if they got frightened all over again. They were a proper army now! She must
encourage this confidence for as long as she could bear to.
"So what's this, then, gents?" she asked, putting on an uneasy expression. "Some kind of mutiny?"
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