“Kiss and make up!” Kinslow cackles. “That’s a good one.”
“Hello, my beloved,” Mr. Dowling whispers inside my head, ignoring his henchman, his soft, telepathic voice contrasting with his wildly rolling eyes and peeled-back lips. “It is good to see you again, even if the circumstances are far from ideal.”
“Hi, hubby,” I mutter. “Sorry for ruining the wedding night.”
The clown laughs hysterically and claps loudly.
“Albrecht,” Dr. Oystein says, stepping forward, and Mr. Dowling stops clapping. “This does not have to end in tears. Let us reach a compromise. We do not need to shed blood here today.”
“Why is he looking to compromise?” Mr. Dowling asks, his words only sounding inside my head. “Didn’t you give him the vial?”
“Share nothing with him,” Owl Man murmurs in my ear before I can reply. I don’t think he can eavesdrop on my conversation with Mr. Dowling, but he can see that we’re in contact. He doesn’t want me to give the game away.
The clown cocks his head and stares at me when I don’t answer his question. “Your mind is not your own. Zachary has tinkered with it. I understand now why you attacked me. It was not your doing. I forgive you.”
I smile warmly at that and turn to Owl Man. “Let me speak with him. Please. I won’t tell him anything about the vial.”
Owl Man exchanges a glance with Dr. Oystein, who nods slowly.
“Very well,” Owl Man says. “But reveal nothing of our mission or what has happened to the sample of Schlesinger-10.”
I face Mr. Dowling and open my thoughts to him. “Sorry,” I say again, but this time without moving my lips. “This wasn’t something that I planned. I know how much you were prepared to sacrifice for me. I didn’t mean to betray you before you had a chance to prove yourself.”
“Perhaps it was for the best,” Mr. Dowling sighs as his mutants glare at us and growl softly. “I don’t think I could have made you happy. The heavens were set against us. It wasn’t our time. But perhaps it can be, depending on how things play out today.”
“I doubt it,” I tell him truthfully. “Too much has happened. Besides, how could you trust me? You don’t know what else Owl Man might have done to my brain. Even I don’t know.”
“Clever little Zachary,” Mr. Dowling says bitterly. “I taught him too well.”
The clown does a quick pirouette, catching everyone by surprise, then opens his mind to the rest of his followers, including Kinslow, who gives voice to his words for the benefit of those who haven’t bonded with him.
“You did well to find me, Oystein. I didn’t think you would track me down to my war room. I was going to face you in my personal chambers later, when I’d stripped you of all your followers and hopes.”
“This doesn’t have to be a room of war,” Dr. Oystein says, taking another step towards his estranged, deranged brother. “It can be a room of peace. Let us build bridges, restore what we’ve destroyed, work with one another again, like we did in the past.”
“There can be no going back,” Mr. Dowling transmits sadly, and Kinslow says it aloud for him.
“I’m not talking about going back,” Dr. Oystein says. “I want to move forward with you and Zachary by my side, to forge a new world. The three of us can be the architects of the future. We have come so far separately. Let’s go the rest of the way hand in hand.”
“I wish that we could,” Mr. Dowling says through Kinslow, “but you and I crave different things.”
“We don’t have to,” Dr. Oystein presses. “Zachary and I can work on your damaged brain and try to repair it. Trust us, Albrecht. Work with us. I’m your brother, Zachary is your son, and, despite all that we have been through, we’ve never stopped loving you. Let us help you, so that we can be a family again.”
Mr. Dowling rubs the v-shaped grooves in his cheeks. Kinslow is looking at his master oddly, aggressively. The mutant has picked up a scythe. I think he might chop off the clown’s head if he sides with Dr. Oystein.
“What do you think, children?” Mr. Dowling asks the babies, looking down upon his mini terrors. “Would you like it if I kissed and made up?”
“with yummy mummy?” the babies all ask together.
“No, sillies,” the clown chuckles. “With Oystein.”
The babies look blank. They don’t care about the doc or anybody else. The question means nothing to them.
“If I grant you the support of my people,” Mr. Dowling says softly through Kinslow, facing his brother again, “what will you give me in return?”
“What do you want?” Dr. Oystein asks eagerly, taking yet another step forward. He’s almost within touching distance of the clown. Mr. Dowling glances at Kinslow and shares a private thought with him.
“Will you return his vial of Schlesinger-10?” Kinslow says pleasantly.
“I can’t,” Dr. Oystein says. “I don’t know where…”
The doc stops, his face falling, as he realizes he’s been tricked.
“I thought as much,” Mr. Dowling crows, his laughter echoing inside all of our heads. “He doesn’t have it. The vial has gone missing.” Then, as Dr. Oystein flounders, Mr. Dowling throws his head back, waves imperiously at his followers and screeches telepathically, “Children—attack!”