In celebration of the upcoming Aeon Flux live action movie.
"Wait! Stop! I think you've sprained my wrist!"
"If the mighty leader of our glorious society can't even handle that, we really must be in trouble."
"It's always charming to discuss political theory with someone who has absolutely no comprehension of the subject," Trevor said sardonically, then winced as another stab of pain shot up his arm. "No, seriously Aeon, I think I'm really hurt."
"Don't be such a baby," she said, but she took her foot off his wrist.
They were in the Olarium, a massive work center filled with iron cubicles as far as the eye could see. During the daytime Breen citizens came here to interact with a complicated computer program. It supposedly kept society functioning by imputing personal data from all the citizens. In reality, its true purpose was keep people out of the elites' hair.
Aeon hated it here. She could still remember her placid, ignorant childhood hours spent in this place. The memory raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
Fear of death Aeon could handle. Fear of torture she could handle. Fear that this war of theirs might eventually lead to the destruction of the entire human race she could handle. But she could not accept the idea of anyone controlling her without her permission.
"I can afford to be gracious," she told him. "Your little scheme of making the Olarium addictive is over."
Even as they spoke, a Monican hacker-robot was affixed to one of the central command computers, fixing the problem. "I don't know what you were thinking with this one. If the people are too busy wasting all their time in the Olarium, they won't be able to do the work you want them to do. Sometimes I just don't understand you."
Trevor gave her his customary superior smile. "No, I think you don't. But I can understand you perfectly."
"Is that so?"
"I knew you were going to be here, Aeon. I was expecting you."
"Nonsense. It's impossible to know which Monican agent has accepted what job."
"That's true. But I created the addictiveness program because I knew your people would have to respond. And I knew you'd take the job, because you can't stand to see me succeed at anything. But I've already succeeded. All I wanted to do was bring you here. I wanted to humble you. That was my true purpose."
"Cute story. But I already know what a natural liar you are."
He just smiled even deeper. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, which he balled up and threw at her. She snatched it out of the air with an almost contemptuous flick of her wrist.
It was a summation of a report made by Breen intelligence. It said that the Olarium's defenses were the most suitable for being infiltrated by an agent with Aeon's particular skill set.
She went cold all over.
"So you see, I win this one. Perhaps you'd like to congratulate me? I know a comfortable place where we can spend the night together."
She didn't answer. She felt her horror transform into rage.
She pulled out her gun and aimed it at him. Her voice went flat and hard. "I don't think you thought this through completely," she informed him.
He was stunned. "You wouldn't kill me," he said, but his voice was uncertain. Maybe he'd pushed her too far this time.
She fixed an explosive charge to the end of the barrel. No one could get hit by something like that and live to tell about it.
She lifted her arm.
Her eyes narrowed.
Trevor cried, "No!"
The explosion was deafening. It sent a wave of smoke and dust roiling throughout the immediate area.
It took Trevor a moment to realize that he was still alive. She must have missed him. But that didn't make sense. Aeon never missed.
He turned to look behind him. He saw that she'd destroyed the Monican hacker-robot. In fact, that particular command computer was completely destroyed. It wouldn't disrupt the activities of the Olarium, because there were other command computers elsewhere.
That meant the addictiveness program was still up and running. She had struck a blow against her own Monican resistance movement just to prove him wrong.
Summoned by the noise, a group of Breen security soldiers came running. Trevor whirled around to look at Aeon, but she was already gone.
"Chairman Goodchild?" one of them asked. "What are you doing here? What happened?"
Trevor caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw of Aeon rising up through the smoke toward the ceiling, lifted by her grappling hook. No one else noticed her. When she reached the escape ladder to the roof, she turned around and faced him.
Trevor, like all Breen soldiers, had been trained to read lips. As the security soldiers hounded him with questions, he saw her mouth the words: No one makes me do anything.
Then she pushed open the trap door to the roof and was gone.