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bedlamsbardI am in a crappy mood. Ignore my people-phobia and read the fic.
The first thing to come to mind is, embarrassingly, so this is what Danny would have become if he hadn't gotten tangled up in Tanglewood, and not, so there are parallel universes, which follows hot on the heels of the first revelation.
Mac stares at Danny. Dr. Daniel Messer, that is, not his Detective Danny Messer. The greatest difference comes in how they hold themselves, not in looks -- Dr. Messer walks with something half a scientist's preoccupation and half a soldeir's constant, unthinking vigilance, while Detective Messer is a bundle of barely-contained nerves oddly meshed with Mafia identity and NYPD wariness.
This Danny Messer is wearing black BDU's with a patch on one shoulder Mac doesn't recognize -- three round globes in an arc, with MV-1 embroidered above and U.S.M.C. below. He cocks his head to one side; Mac can see the chain supporting his dogtags glinting against his neck. "So you get all this?" he asks, voice clearer and much more precise than Mac's used to.
"I'm still harboring some confusion on where we are and what we're doing here," Mac admits.
"Ah." Danny considers for a moment. "Well, where we are is VRC-666, I'm guessing, which is going to make it an absolute bitch for Mac -- Colonel Taylor, I mean -- to get us out."
Mac doesn't like having to ask questions over something he's not already informed about, but it doesn't look like he has any choice, so he says, "What's VRC-666?"
"Universe designation Radically Changed number 666," Danny explains. "It's the Inhumans' home universe, or at least theoretically. MVC's never been there."
"And who --"
"I didn't say? Oh, right." Danny runs his figners over the lien of his watch. "The Inhumans are the mirror-builders," he says. 'We figure that 666 split off from our world about 10,000 years ago -- right about the time when Atlantis sank."
"Atlantis?" Mac says, bemused.
"Atlantis," Danny nods. "See, in 666, Atlantis never sank, so the civilization went on to flourish and grow more and more scientifically advanced. The first mirrors were built around 9,000 years ago and they kept on being built for another thousand years. Then it all just stopped. The anthropologists think there was some kind of civil war, but whatever it was, they lost the mirror technology. For the next couple millennia they were completely silent -- we haven't found any sign of out-universe activity. Then they started working on genetic engineering, trying to improve themselves as a people, that sort of thing. And then they rediscovered the mirrors and set out trying to exploit less advanced universes, about two thousand some years ago. That's the paraphrased version of the story. We don't know everything; this is just what we've managed to figure out by visiting other 'verses."
"And the Inhumans --"
"Well, they're pissed at us because we pissed them off the first time a team stepped through a mirror into an Inhuman 'verse," Danny grins. "Which wasn't actually really a team, just me and Mac and Stella -- Major Dr. Bonasera, she's an Air Force officer with a Ph.D in quantum physics -- playing around with the thing after it ate Flack. Uh, Captain Don Flack. He's Air Force, came in with Stella when they transferred her out of Area 51. Brilliant mathematician; all he needs is a dissertation and he'd be a Ph.D too." He shakes his head. "You probably don't know any of them, do you?"
"Of course I do," Mac says, his head still spinning with everything Danny's attempting to stuff into it. "They all work for me at the NYPD."
"Huh," Danny says consideringly, then continues, "Anway, the Inhumans really hate MV-1. They must have grabbed you thinking you were our Mac." He looks Mac up and down, eyebrows raised over the silver rims of his glasses. "There's not a lotta Macs wandering around, even VPT 'verses. Most of them don't seem to live to adulthood."
Mac feels a chill go down his spine that has nothing at all to do with the fact he's in prison in another universe. "They don't?" he says slowly.
Danny shakes his head. "Mosta them die early." His accent is slipping, and they can hear the sound of approaching footsteps outside the chrome-plated cell. Danny swallows, eyes a little wider than they'd been a moment ago. He kneads the rough fabric of his pants, his accent spilling out like a Bronx flood. "Any Mac Taylor that lives is an aberration."
The first thing to come to mind is, embarrassingly, so this is what Danny would have become if he hadn't gotten tangled up in Tanglewood, and not, so there are parallel universes, which follows hot on the heels of the first revelation.
Mac stares at Danny. Dr. Daniel Messer, that is, not his Detective Danny Messer. The greatest difference comes in how they hold themselves, not in looks -- Dr. Messer walks with something half a scientist's preoccupation and half a soldeir's constant, unthinking vigilance, while Detective Messer is a bundle of barely-contained nerves oddly meshed with Mafia identity and NYPD wariness.
This Danny Messer is wearing black BDU's with a patch on one shoulder Mac doesn't recognize -- three round globes in an arc, with MV-1 embroidered above and U.S.M.C. below. He cocks his head to one side; Mac can see the chain supporting his dogtags glinting against his neck. "So you get all this?" he asks, voice clearer and much more precise than Mac's used to.
"I'm still harboring some confusion on where we are and what we're doing here," Mac admits.
"Ah." Danny considers for a moment. "Well, where we are is VRC-666, I'm guessing, which is going to make it an absolute bitch for Mac -- Colonel Taylor, I mean -- to get us out."
Mac doesn't like having to ask questions over something he's not already informed about, but it doesn't look like he has any choice, so he says, "What's VRC-666?"
"Universe designation Radically Changed number 666," Danny explains. "It's the Inhumans' home universe, or at least theoretically. MVC's never been there."
"And who --"
"I didn't say? Oh, right." Danny runs his figners over the lien of his watch. "The Inhumans are the mirror-builders," he says. 'We figure that 666 split off from our world about 10,000 years ago -- right about the time when Atlantis sank."
"Atlantis?" Mac says, bemused.
"Atlantis," Danny nods. "See, in 666, Atlantis never sank, so the civilization went on to flourish and grow more and more scientifically advanced. The first mirrors were built around 9,000 years ago and they kept on being built for another thousand years. Then it all just stopped. The anthropologists think there was some kind of civil war, but whatever it was, they lost the mirror technology. For the next couple millennia they were completely silent -- we haven't found any sign of out-universe activity. Then they started working on genetic engineering, trying to improve themselves as a people, that sort of thing. And then they rediscovered the mirrors and set out trying to exploit less advanced universes, about two thousand some years ago. That's the paraphrased version of the story. We don't know everything; this is just what we've managed to figure out by visiting other 'verses."
"And the Inhumans --"
"Well, they're pissed at us because we pissed them off the first time a team stepped through a mirror into an Inhuman 'verse," Danny grins. "Which wasn't actually really a team, just me and Mac and Stella -- Major Dr. Bonasera, she's an Air Force officer with a Ph.D in quantum physics -- playing around with the thing after it ate Flack. Uh, Captain Don Flack. He's Air Force, came in with Stella when they transferred her out of Area 51. Brilliant mathematician; all he needs is a dissertation and he'd be a Ph.D too." He shakes his head. "You probably don't know any of them, do you?"
"Of course I do," Mac says, his head still spinning with everything Danny's attempting to stuff into it. "They all work for me at the NYPD."
"Huh," Danny says consideringly, then continues, "Anway, the Inhumans really hate MV-1. They must have grabbed you thinking you were our Mac." He looks Mac up and down, eyebrows raised over the silver rims of his glasses. "There's not a lotta Macs wandering around, even VPT 'verses. Most of them don't seem to live to adulthood."
Mac feels a chill go down his spine that has nothing at all to do with the fact he's in prison in another universe. "They don't?" he says slowly.
Danny shakes his head. "Mosta them die early." His accent is slipping, and they can hear the sound of approaching footsteps outside the chrome-plated cell. Danny swallows, eyes a little wider than they'd been a moment ago. He kneads the rough fabric of his pants, his accent spilling out like a Bronx flood. "Any Mac Taylor that lives is an aberration."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-28 11:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-28 11:33 pm (UTC)