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Dr. Debra scowled at Dan. "I don't know whether to hug you or spank you," she said with measured affection. "You've been so much more help than I had expected – and pushed yourself too hard doing it." Tony, who had dragged the exhausted boy over to her over his protests, looked on. "Here." She phoned down a meal order: soup, sandwich, high-protein 'McCoy' milkshake. "You will eat that and then take a break before you try to do any more."
"But Tony needs me!"
"It's under control, li'l buddy. When we left, those kids were playing happily on the ward floor with toys. I'm not even sure I'm needed there, except it's what I was assigned to do."
Debra looked thoughtful. "There's nurses on that wing, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then spend some time with this one, keeping him from pushing himself into an early grave." She thought for a moment. "Give him a bath. I won't authorize a shower while he's still weak, and I want someone with him. I think he'd prefer a tub over a bedbath, and he'll be more comfortable with you than a nurse, I'm sure." Dan was blushing; he nodded yes shyly.
"I can handle that," Tony said. He and Dan stood up to leave; he playfully swatted Dan's bottom, as he'd done several times earlier. He wasn't clear why, but it seemed the right thing to do – a way of saying, 'What you worried about doesn't matter' to the younger boy.
+++
After Dan had eaten, Tony helped him into a bathroom and started the bathwater running. Dan managed to look eager and embarrassed at the same time. "Okay, get that silly gown and those pajama bottoms off," Tony said. "And I'm going to help you into and out of the tub, and stick with you while you take your bath. And," he went on, "don't be afraid to ask me to wash anything. You heard Dr. Debra; you're weak yet, and pushing yourself. It's my job to help you; let me do it."
Dan did as instructed, turning away from Tony as he dropped his pants. Tony quickly repressed the memories of Pen that seeing Dan's butt naked brought unbidden to his consciousness. "Here, let me help you in," he said.
The reason for Dan's shyness became obvious as Tony turned him to boost him into the tub..Tony thought fast. "Hey, relax!" he said. "You wanna be careful, or you'll poke somebody's eye out with that!"
That did it. Dan burst into giggles and relaxed. Tony boosted him into the tub, boner and all, and handed him washcloth and body wash, sitting down to keep an eye on his younger friend. It bothered him more than a little that he was starting to think of Dan in sexual terms, as he had Pen. That in turn made him think about what might happen once he got back home. Shaking off those thoughts, he offered, "Want to have me wash your back?"
"Sure!"
Tony peeled off his T-shirt, and reached for washcloth and body wash. Dan's gaze was fixed on Tony's chest: firm pectoral muscles (more the result of his heritage than any working out), dark quarter-sized areolas that stood out, with a few hairs adjacent to them and a small amount more over his breastbone, a smooth abdomen showing above his pants. Dan was achingly hard again.
Tony didn't notice. He began to scrub the boy's back with gentle firmness, trying to be careful not to put too much pressure into the washing. Dan still looked a little gaunt, though the therapy was beginning to give him back a little color and the hint of some meat on his bones.
"Boost up," Tony said, "and I'll get your bottom." As Dan did, Tony smoothly washed down the globe of one buttock and then the other. "Um, I'm going to do your crack now," Tony said. "Let me know right away if it starts hurting, okay?"
"Uh-huh." At that response, Tony gently moved the washcloth, with his fingertips, the length of the crease between Dan's buttocks. As he came to the anus, Dan's muscles involuntarily contracted.
"I'm sorry, Dan," Tony said. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." The voice was very small. "You didn't hurt me."
Dan's emotions were in turmoil: Lust, guilt, fear, and above all, a need for Tony, for the friend he felt he could trust, were at war in him. "Wash me there gently, with your fingers," he managed to say.
Tony did what he asked, resolutely ignoring what his rebellious crotch was saying to him. They were both relieved when Tony helped Dan out of the tub and gave him a towel to dry off with.
The brazen buzz of an alert transfixed them. Outside, at the doctors' and nurses' station, they heard people jumping up and running. Tony started for the door, then thought better of it. "Daileass? What's happening?"
The young A.I.'s voice was strained, as though he was almost in tears. "It's Adam. He's dying. I transported him back, with Chang and Mama Janet. They're trying to save him."
"Oh, shit! Well, let me know what I can do."
"Will do." After a few seconds, "Get Dan dressed and you two help the nurses. They're all converging to help with Adam... the doctors, I mean."
"Thanks, Dail. We'll do just that."
Brandon looked nervously at the entrance to the hangar bay – a large opening in the side of a cliff. "Bobby, come up here, please!" he called back.
"Busy. What's up?" came Bobby's voice from behind him.
"I'm not sure I can fly this thing into the hangar – it's on the side of a cliff!"
The radio speaker chirped. "Can't leave you with a cliff hangar, now, can I?" Daileass said over it, with a nervous giggle. "Set it to rev down, freewheeling, controlled descent. When you're ready, I'll transport you in."
Brandon followed instructions. The big Medevac 'copter drifted slowly toward the canyon floor, maintaining even attitude toward the entrance due to the rear rotor. "Ready," Brandon said nervously.
Next instant they were inside, just above the floor. "Move her forward at dead slow, then set down here," Daileass said, illuminating a spot on the floor.
Brandon killed the motors, and the rotors whined down to a stop. Skipper and Bobby were at the door before they stopped spinning. "We've got wounded," Bobby called out, and the ground crews leapt into motion.
A commotion outside the Clinic portended the arrival of the patients the Medevac crew had brought in. The Clinic physicians, the combat medics, and the others set to work. (See Camp Bam Bam chapter 14 for the strange intervention that had saved Adam.) Becky was cussing a blue streak in her clipped English style as she and Debra began work on Ethan. Gordan began efforts to cope with what had happened to Mickey and Jed. Jared hovered impotently, wishing he could help but unsure what to do. Janet dug in with their erstwhile commander, the young sergeant who had been taken down by enemy fire early on. Chang and Bryce set to work on the three kids who had volunteered to round out Kilo, with Skipper and Bobby backing them up.
Elsewhere in the Camp, Intake was being stretched to its limits to deal with the rescuees as they came in. Ronnie and RayRay and their teams were improvising to handle the human-animal hybrids … with help from their creator.
"Is he...?" Jared didn't want to finish the question. Gordan looked over. "I'm using the biobed's consciousness-suppressing function to keep him under while I work," he said. "He'll survive just fine, and recover. He's fortunate those weren't armor-piercing bullets. But they did drive the Kevlar vest into his chest quite hard. There's some pretty nasty skin-and-muscle bruises but what concerns me most is the bruised ribs." He looked at Jared, "If we can give him the rest of the day and night undisturbed on a biobed, he should recover just fine."
Jared looked Gordan in the eye. "You make sure he's got a biobed; I'll make sure he's undisturbed," he said with a mature vehemence new to him, the man protecting his beloved tone coming through. His tone changed, to worry. "But what about Mickey?"
"Okay, the shot that hit alongside his spine – I can't explain this. I can see what happened: the impact drove the Kevlar up against his spine, to incapacitate him. But it looks like his spinal cord is re-growing the connections there, which is supposed to be impossible."
Knowing what Peter had done, Jared grinned. "That's my brother; he was a paraplegic earlier this month. 'Impossible' just isn't in his vocabulary!"
Gordan laughed. "I see what you mean. Here's the bullet I extracted from his leg." He handed Jared a small plastic container. "That will heal just fine, given a little time. He'll probably need to use a cane for a few days, though – more for support and balance than anything else."
"So we're here for the night?"
"I strongly recommend it. Go get yourself some nourishment, after that battle."
"I'm staying right here, with Jed and Mickey." Jared's determination was almost palpable.
"As you wish."
+++
Having gotten Dan dressed and settled down, Tony was en route to get him another snack. He saw the commotion and came over to investigate. "Hey, Skipper, Bobby!"
Bobby was cold, ignoring him. "Bryce, look here."
"Suction back that blood; that vein needs suturing. Nurse, give this kid a unit of blood … A positive, it says here."
"We're running low on blood, doctor."
Chang looked up. "Daileass? Who's on Mission Control?"
"Tilden."
"Patch me through. Tilden, locate a blood bank somewhere. Requisition a supply – all common types. Use Daileass for transport. Use Uncle Tom's name if you need to, to get cooperation."
"Roger that." Tilden's barely-in-puberty voice echoed from the speakers.
"Tony? What are you doing here?" Skipper was startled.
"That week of community service. Jonas sent me yesterday. Um – I think I learned something important."
"Good." Skipper was impassive, working on an injured boy as he talked.
"Well – I need to go get a kid who was starving to death a nutrition-supplement milkshake." Tony was looking for an excuse to absent himself.
Gordon didn't look up. "For Dan? If they give you any grief, tell them it's on my orders."
"Thanks, doctor." As Tony turned to leave, he looked over where Gordan's voice had come from and saw Jared sitting, phaser in hand, beside the biobeds with Jed and Mickey on them. "What happened to Mickey?"
"Shot in the leg and spine. Let him be."
"Okay. When he comes to, tell him I'll stop and talk to him later on."
Jared nodded, with a scowl. Tony went to the unmanned nursing station, phoned for the milkshake, and within 30 seconds it was ready in the dumbwaiter. He retrieved it and headed back towards Dan's ward.
"There you are." Malinda was at the door, her face flushed, her fatigues clinging to her body. Tony – well, it wouldn't be quite correct to say he stiffened up, but part of him certainly did.
Chang glanced up from his patient. Three steps took him to a medical supplies cabinet. He quickly pulled out a bottle, shook one pill into a cup, and motioned Tony to him. "Here, take this."
Tony looked. It was a small blue diamond-shaped pill. "What is it?"
"Do not worry; you will need it." Chang essayed a very slight smile. "Then drink down that shake, yourself. I will have someone procure another for Dan."
"All right." Tony took the pill and began drinking down the milkshake. Malinda joined them.
"Patience, my sister. He must be prepared for his task," Chang said with a twinkle in his eye. At the next surgical station, Bryce stifled a guffaw. Malinda smirked.
Some hours later, Tony and Malinda entered the dining area. Malinda looked – satisfied. Tony? – his face was at once beatific, drained, and stunned, as if someone had taken him to heaven by having him scale a high mountain to get there.
Austin, Becky, and Bryan looked up as they came in. Becky raised an eyebrow; Malinda held up a hand with the fingers splayed. "Five?" Bryan asked. Malinda grinned and nodded. He looked at Tony; Tony blushed.
"I'm sorry," Benny said. "You're probably mad at me now."
"Don't be," Bernie answered him. "Now, if you treated all our friends and business relationships like that, I might be upset." He smiled. "But Chatsworth was inexcusably rude – to you four and to us as well."
"You did me a big favor, young man," Bertha said. "Just like your brother did. I always try to think the best of everyone – my soon-to-be-ex-husband included. But you opened my eyes to something, made me face a fact I didn't want to. And I am grateful."
"I cannot grasp why he would have behaved the way he did, knowing that Benny could expose him," Francis said.
"That's because you haven't lived with him thirty years like I have, you don't know how he thinks," Bertha said. "In a way he's very short-sighted … he thinks everyone is just like him. He did not see Benny as a person, with his own hopes and fears. Benny was someone who sold him a commodity he wanted, so in his mind, you two must be making the same transaction. He was always motivated by money, so he related well to others who were similarly motivated, or who hired him to manage their money as you did. And of course he was always high on proper social behavior. We would have gone home tonight and he would have taken pleasure in pointing out that one of your boys, say Tory here, said or did something out of line by the 20th century upper class standards for child behavior that he was brought up to follow, never realizing that his own behavior was far worse. In his mind, he and Benny had a contract that included discretion, one Benny violated by having the effrontery to be adopted by Chatsworth's social peers. Benny was supposed to be the convenience available when his little wienie required relief, then discreetly fade away." She looked Benny square in the eye. "You taught him a lesson he's needed for years, young man, and I'm glad you did."
Benny looked up shyly. "I offered Dad B. my bottom when we first got here," he said. "He told me he was married to Dad F., and that he wanted to be my father, not my lover. I'd'a done it gladly; he treated me like people. 'N' it was something I could do, to pay him back for how good he's been to me and my brothers."
Bertha looked at him judiciously, then at the other three. "You boys feel guilty for taking what Bernie and Francis give you without being able to give them anything back, don't you?" she asked. Nods answered her.
"I'm going to call Montague – my lawyer – tomorrow, to have him start the separation and divorce process," she went on. "Do you know why I'm willing to pay him to do that?"
"'Cause he's a lawyer?" Blakey essayed a little hesitantly.
"Well, yes, but because being a lawyer, he has expertise I need to make something I want to have happen, happen," she replied. "My father left me two things: a very lucrative set of investments that have supported me all my life, and a sense of responsibility to help others. That's why I've done charity work all these years."
"I'd always wondered," Francis said.
"But here's what I have in mind, boys, if you're interested: Pat showed me with one sentence where something I've supported as long as Tory has been alive was misusing what I was giving. I don't know, I can't know, where the real needs are, where I'm pouring money into someone's pockets who doesn't need it, instead of taking care of the people who do." She smiled. "That's where you come in."
Four puzzled looks met her. "What I want to do," she went on, "is to hire you four as my consultants, to have you tell me from your own pasts, or check out programs for me as supposed recipients, and let me know where I'm really helping and where I'm just throwing away money."
"And," she concluded, "I plan to pay you as consultants, money you'll earn by being my experts, so you'll have your own money to spend on yourselves, or on little gifts for your fathers."
A thought struck her that made her laugh aloud. "In fact, Benny," she added, "what I want ties right into your area of expertise." He looked at her quizzically. "I want you to let me know where I'm getting screwed by the people I'm giving money to."
The tension left Benny in one deep, soul-cleansing belly laugh, one that the other boys and the two men joined in.
"Granny" Gunderson shuffled cautiously over to her oven, where the latest batch of cookies were nearly ready to be taken out. Elsa McArdry Gunderson had only two grandchildren by blood, and they were with their father on Tau Ceti III. But that didn't stop her; she was grandmother by proxy to all the kids in the neighborhood, at least to the extent her arthritis would allow, and they all knew to stop by for cookies after school.
She glanced up at the picture she'd taken last year, when she'd given a party for one of the kids' birthday after the girl's mother had been unexpectedly called into work. How happy 'her kids' had been!
Sunlight causing a flash of blue on the picture drew her attention to two boys – the McClure kids. She hoped they were doing well with their great aunt. She missed them immensely. Little Beau, whose bright blue eyes in the picture had caught the sun, had so loved her cookies, and he would gently massage her arthritic shoulders, wrists, and ankles, his gentle touch bringing relief from her near constant pain.
The timer at the oven going off roused her from her woolgathering, and she spun, then winced in anticipation of the agony her bad ankle would put her through from the sudden movement – pain that never came. She pulled out the trays of cookies and set them to cool, then sat down . Gingerly she lifted her bad foot, expecting pain at any moment. But the lump was shrinking, the ankle was moving freely, and with almost no pain, for the first time she could remember. She sighed in relief, and thanked God for the near-miraculous relief, and, as an afterthought, she said a prayer for the young boy who had helped her before. It sounded almost as if she could hear his giggles, with a double echo to boot. You're getting senile, Elsa, she told herself mock-sternly. Hearing things now, are we? Who knows what will happen next.
The atmosphere was tense at the Maxwell/McKendrick/Baldwin/Templeton home Friday evening. John Martin had called to compliment C.J. and Raffy on their intervention to protect Lee and Lonnie – followed by a call from Gabe with quite a different tone:
"You two did exactly what the Clan is supposed to do, in intervening to prevent bullying and abuse, especially of gay teens. But let me tick off the things you did wrong:"
• "You neglected to take along communicators or commbadges, putting you out of contact with the Clan in case you needed backup."
• "You didn't take along anyone from Intelligence or Security. If there had been a need to get a telepathic Read, nor did you have anybody with you to protect your young behinds. If it hadn't been for Ark, you two would have been in the hospital – if not dead."
"And speaking of Ark, it's Clan policy, at the Ark's own request backed up by the Founder Council, that its existence not be known to Starfleet. You almost blew that. We were able to cover by saying it was a code word for emergency transport that kids could remember, like Noah's Ark. But you nearly blew Ark's cover."
"You two did a good thing. Don't get me wrong. But next time, think it through first, and take along help."
That of course blew their cover with Sylvia and Rina, and they had to experience a long lecture from both of them. Rina grounded them both, at least until Mickey got home. Both boys were smarting with the injustice of it all. Then Raffy got a thoughtful look, and motioned C.J. to stop complaining.
"Why? It's not fair!"
"Wait until Mickey gets here. I don't want to say too much before then, but, well … you'll see."
Now Rina was on the telephone, with C.J.'s grandfather. They listened.
"No, Mr. Sarles, we won't be able to come up tonight as we'd promised. Jed and the two older McKendrick boys were called away to Utah, to help on some Clan activity. And I've grounded the younger two – they did something way too risky today while their brothers were gone. I expect we'll be up tomorrow – it'll be too late when they get back tonight, most likely."
"You tell little Chrissie to behave himself, or he'll find Grandpa can still deliver a good spanking, just like when he was a toddler."
"I'll do just that. In fact – you hear that, C.J.?"
A rather petulant "Uh-huh" was all she got out of him.
The six left behind stood in stunned silence for a moment as Peter vanished.
"Well, that was strange!" Harry said.
"The last time, it was when he forgot to look at the near future about Jed's grandfather," Maureen reminisced. "I hope this works out as well as that did."
Calvin, however, was having trouble believing his eyes. "That kid just vanished, right? I'm not seeing things?"
The others chuckled. "Yes, he did," Josiah answered, taking pity on Calvin. With interruptions from Jonas and Harry, he went through the story of Peter's rescue from the hospital where he was dying, his being taken to Orlando, and his conversion into a Mikyvis. "None of us, of course, can see things like they do. So whenever he runs into a problem that's beyond his ability to solve, he pops down to Orlando to ask his friend Levi, who actually did the conversion for him."
"But he just vanished!"
"No, he teleported," Jonas said. "Ask him to take you along sometime; it's no real effort for him, and he'd enjoy the company."
"That's how we got to New Jersey Monday, and how we get to and from Orlando," Harry threw in. "Speaking of which...." And he walked down to his and Jonas's room, logged in on the console, and began to key in data.
"Oh, good!" Josiah said, looking over his shoulder. "You'll be taking him for training, right?"
"Probably, though we may not be able to fit it in right away," Jonas answered. "And Terry at least needs to learn to use his telepathy, which'll probably mean finding out when the Wonder Twins are free."
"What are you doing, Harry? What are you two talking about?" Abbie asked.
"Same thing, Mother," Harry answered. "I'm formally registering Calvin's intervention with the Clan, to protect him and to give him Clan authority. And the judge was asking about getting him trained, so he knows when to intervene and how to do it legally."
"Huh?"
"Mom and Dad stood as guardians for you," Jonas explained. "That makes you the brother of a Clan member, and the Clan is the group of guys who have vowed brotherhood to Grandfather Sarek's grandsons and to each other. That includes you, now."
"It's 'pay it forward' on a grand scale," Harry amplified. "All of us got helped by the Clan, one way or another, and having been helped, we're out to help others. And we have the legal right to do it."
"Seems like a long time since we sat in the old house wondering if the crooked cops were going to break in and grab us," Maureen said. "It's hard to remember it's only been three weeks."
"Peter and the Michaels boys seem to have raided a mall and a furniture store," Abbie said with a grin. "But we'll be wanting to take the kids to get things to make their rooms their own, come tomorrow."
Calvin's face registered confusion.
"Oh, we've got more explaining to do," Harry smiled, catching sight of it.
"Harry, you'd talk the ear off a cornstalk if it'd stand still and let you," Abbie interrupted. "Come with me back to the kitchen, and I'll get out the little snack I prepared. Might as well get comfortable while you're talking."
They followed her back to the kitchen, where her 'little snack' proved to be that only in comparison with a banquet – cake, chips, dip, four kinds of sandwiches, coffee, hot chocolate.... The boys pigged out; the three adults, well, they found it appropriate to keep up with the boys.
Pat was the first of the four boys to awaken, and he decided it was time to ask the question. These men had been so good to him and Benny and the two little ones, maybe they would have the answer he needed. He screwed up his courage and walked out of the guest suite toward their home office.
What he heard, though, was raised voices, and he decided to listen for a minute before going in – if in fact he decided to go in at all.
"It's a matter of priorities, Francis," Bernie was saying with some heat. "You saw the need, and had us get involved. And you were right; I saw that first thing in the donut shop. Now that we're involved, it's whole hog or none. Like the Bible says, do the right thing and don't count the cost."
"Yes, but I think there needs to be a balance. It was, after all, our whole life before the boys, and you have to admit we found it pretty comfortable to live that way." Francis was quieter but no less firm.
"Something has to give," Bernie replied, "and as far as I'm concerned, it's the part that doesn't need hands-on effort. We have good managers."
"Yes, but...." Francis trailed off as he saw Pat outside the door. "Come on in, Pat!"
"Um..." Pat was really nervous. "I kind of had a problem to ask you guys about, but, um, you're upset about something...."
"Come on in here and tell us about it!" Bernie said with a smile. "Maybe we can help."
"Well, um, it's like this," Pat said as he sat down with them. Feeling his courage dissipate, he changed his mind. "No, it's stupid." He went to stand up.
"Tell us," Francis said with a mixture of firmness and caring in his voice.
"Well, um, when we were in the apartment, it was my job to try to take care of everybody else, make sure we had enough money, hit the food thrift stores at the right times to get bargains, all that kind of stuff. It made me feel good to be taking care of Benny and the two little ones like that."
"Now we're here," Pat went on, "and you're taking care of us like I never imagined could happen, and, well, I kind of feel useless now." He gulped. "I said it was stupid."
"No, it's not stupid," Francis said, "but your job now is to study with Trevor, get a good education, so you don't have to be juggling money and expenses like that."
Bernie held up his hand; Francis stopped and looked at him. "You're right, of course," he said to Francis, "but you're missing the underlying message. Pat needs to feel needed, like he's being a valuable contributing part of what keeps things going. In a very real though peculiar way, he was the father figure, the breadwinner, for the four of them, and now we are, and he feels useless. Right, Pat?"
"Uh-huh." It was very quiet.
"Now think what we were talking about, Francis," Bernie went on.
"Hmmm? Balancing what the boys need of our time against how much of our time we spent on the business? I don't see it."
"Sometimes," Bernie said enigmatically, "if you get two or more problems, they start solving each other." He turned to his computer console. "Look here, Pat." He called up a page that was clearly a magazine ad, of glossy wooden decorator pieces, then, after a few seconds, another ad, this one from a catalog. "Tell me what the difference between them is, Pat."
"Um... the first one was prettier. They were, uh, buffed, the wood showed. The other one was painted stuff. And the first one was, I don't know, smoother lines or something. I'm not sure how to say it, but they curvedprettier." Bernie was nodding with a pleased smile.
Then he pulled a folder of sales receipt copies from a corner of his desk, punched in several commands on his computer, and handed Pat the printout he had ordered. "Quickly, check these against that," he instructed him.
Mystified, Pat did what Bernie had asked, and after a few minutes said, "Um, the list you printed, they're all there."
"Okay," Bernie said. "And everything on the printout had a receipt that matched it?"
"Yeah."
"Now, enter the total from the printout here," he instructed Pat, pulling up another screen. As Pat typed in the number, the amber bar alongside the box he was typing the numbers into shifted to chartreuse.
Francis was smiling now. "You tell him," he said. "It was your idea."
"Okay, Pat," Bernie said. "The first page I showed you was our ad in Bostonian Monthly last summer. The second was a page from a mail order house catalog. They're both mostly things produced by Throxton Industries, the company owned by the father of the boy Francis called to help when we first met you. And you nailed the differences precisely; that's just what Francis looks for in deciding what to buy from them."
"The other stuff is part of what I do – that was the sales from our Wellesley store last Tuesday, checked against the list of things removed from inventory, and how it affected the bottom line. I've got that color coded: red means we're losing money that week at that store, orange that we're breaking even, amber that we're making a little but it needs watching, chartreuse is okay but below expectations, and green is at or above what we expect."
"What we were arguing about is how much we'd lose not keeping the tight tabs on the business that we have in the past so that we can spend the time with you guys," Bernie went on. Pat started to speak up; both men shushed him.
"The question was not whether or not to – all four of you need caring fathers in your lives, and I think you'd agree that Blakey and Tory in particular do," Francis explained. "It was how we were going to juggle running our business with giving you the time you guys need."
"And you just solved that," Bernie said with a smile. "I don't have the taste to identify what will sell to our customers; that's Francis's job, and he worries over every decision he makes on a buying trip. You do, and you can give him the cross-check he feels like he needs. And I'm always checking those inventory sheets. My part is to make sure we're putting the right merchandise in the right stores, based on ongoing sales figures. That's why I worked up that system." He smiled. "If you will agree to spend an hour or two a day with us, doing pretty much what you just did and some other tasks I'll show you, our management issue just got solved – the three of uscan keep up the same level of management we were doing before you boys came into our lives."
Francis grinned. "Welcome to Lagrange and Halstead, junior partner!" he said.
Peter flicked into existence outside Teri's house, and scanned the three hours past and future that he was permitted to jump. Levi was busy. But he needed advice badly. He picked a moment just before Levi would teleport himself somewhere else, jumped there, and invoked Time Dilation.
"What's a matter, Peter?" Levi's sweet bearing was just as concerned as usual.
"Look!" Peter said, and showed him the Free Holy Republic timeline in the aftermath of the overthrow of the Supreme Pastors and the re-establishment of the U.S. There were thousands of wounded, broken families, thousands of orphaned children, families poverty stricken and unable to cope. The greed and dogmatic focus of the Supreme Pastors had left the country in what was the worst part of 19th century poverty, but with a population nearly five times as large needing help.
The two little Mikyvis studied the events tree. Seemingly, there was little they could do. "Even if we both go there and fix everything, people are gonna die before we can get to them," Levi summarized. "And we're not supposed to do everything; people need to feel like they're doing their part."
//Look deeper// The disembodied voice of the Guardian startled them. //Look at the Legends, how they differ//
Peter spotted it – a point on the day the visitors from Alpha Prime had gone home, that was glowing dimly purple. He focused in on it, and made it expand. "We've never done that!" Levi breathed.
//But you can., Tempus Reservo. That too is one of my times, a Forever for which I am also Guardian. Now equip Peter to do his work, and instruct him as I have shown you.//
Levi blinked. "Justy's going to be so embarrassed!" he giggled.
Peter was giggling too. "Think of it as on-the-job training!" he got out amidst his laughter.
Levi turned dead serious. "Hey, bro. You heard the Guardian too, in your head, right?"
"Uh huh."
"You're so sweet, you always want to heal and comfort people." Levi was not tossing compliments at Peter; he was leveling with his friend, brother Mikyvis, and protégé, and they both knew it. "I've given you the freedom you need to get there and do what it is you're supposed to do. What I'm supposed to remind you of is this: Sometimes the best way to help is to help somebody else to help." Levi hugged Peter. "Do what you gotta, but do what the Guardian showed us, look at the consequences, and don't overdo it. Okay, bro?"
Peter smiled. "Okay! I knew you'd know what to do!" He hugged Levi back.
Maureen stumbled into the big kitchen of the new house, yawning, to find Abbie up even before her. "Sit down," Abbie said, "and I'll pour you a cuppa just as soon as the Jesus Machine gets done."
Maureen chuckled. "Why do you call it that?" she asked.
"Catchphrase from the diner," Abbie said. "Some wit came up with it: Jesus changed water into wine; the machine changes water into coffee." She stood up. "Ah, it's done," she said. "Coffee coming up."
Josiah came into the kitchen just then, rubbing his eyes but smiling at his wife. Abbie handed them each a cup of coffee as he sat down. "Oh, thank you, Jesus!" he said as he began to drink it. He looked puzzled when the two women burst into laughter.
"So, how was your trip?" Abbie asked as she sat down with her own coffee.
"Hmm … 'eventful' might be the right term," Josiah replied. "Not only did we end up with Calvin, but, well, here...." And with that he handed her the morning daily paper he had collected from the front steps on his way to the breakfast table. The raid on the children's home was one of the front-page stories.
"You're supposed to report the news, not make it, Maureen," Abbie said with a grin at her long-time friend.
"Don't look at me; blame our boys!" Maureen riposted with a matching grin.
"Blame us for what?" Jonas said as he too arrived in the kitchen.
"How much trouble you've gotten into in the last month, Jonas," Abbie said tartly with a small smile at her son's longtime best friend and now husband.
"I'm innocent!" Jonas said with an expression that suggested you just couldn't see his halo.
"Save that; nobody here's buying it!" Maureen grinned at him. "Seriously, Jonas, as you walked in, we were just commenting on how eventful our lives have been this month."
"And probably due to get more so," Jonas said. Calvin and Harry came walking in together, yawning, at that point. While Jonas had meant to imply the imminent arrival of the kids rescued from the Supreme Pastors, his words came uncannily true moments later, as he was pouring himself, Harry, and Calvin glasses of orange juice.
A loud metallic buzz came from his and Harry's commbadges, followed by: This is a General Alert to all Clan Short Divisions. I repeat, this is a General Alert to all Clan Short Divisions. We have an unknown situation involving Joel Short in Orlando and request that everyone be at station and ready to assist at a moment's notice. Please respond immediately." Screams in the background emphasized Seth's message.
Jonas paled as he touched his commbadge to reply. "Northeast is on Standby, Seth." He went on, "What's up? Everything is calm here. We have a new member to report, when you're ready."
"We don't know, Jonas. Please stand by. We'll explain when we can, – Joel's hurt. Keep yourself ready," Seth sent back, then clicked off.
Calvin's eyes were wide. "Get the other guys and make sure they're ready on standby," Jonas told Harry, who stood and headed out of the room, bound for their Vulcan terminal. "I don't know what this means yet," he said to his parents and Abbie. "But we may need to head out on a moment's notice."
Josiah nodded. He stood and rested one hand on Jonas's shoulder. "You need to do what you need to do," he said. "But take care of yourself. Think ahead. You have good quick judgment; pause and use it, if you have to get into things."
"I will, father," Jonas said, looking him in the eye.
Another alert came across the commbadges. 'Dragon Division to Alert Status. This is not a Drill. Repeat, this is not a Drill. We have a Code 975-Charlie - Sa'ren Short's life is in danger. I repeat, Code 975-Charlie. Sa'ren Short's life is in danger... Daileass is activating emergency teleport. All VSO operatives - Blue and Black - are to report to Arming Stations. Absolute Sanctions are authorised. Anyone preventing the gathering of information or preventing the cause of justice is to be eliminated. I repeat...'
Jonas's concern intensified. This was an attack on their brother Joel, though nobody had vouchsafed any details yet. He fully expected to be in a fight like the previous week's by the time the sun set.
Harry came back. "Pen and Doug are ready if needed – Pen can drive them here, or they know to call to be beamed out if necessary. George is bringing Philip and the twins over here. But did you know Skipper and Bobby and their family are already in Utah?"
"I wonder what that's about?" Jonas mused.
"I'd better get to cooking breakfast for, what, nine?, then," Abbie said. "You like hash browns and sausage, Calvin?"
"Uh, yeah," he answered, startled out of the confusion he was feeling by the question. "What's going on, Jonas?"
"Um, that's going to take some explaining, bro. Have you caught the news this week at all?"
"Uh, yeah. They had us listen in to that funeral thing Wedn.... Omigod! That was you!" Calvin finally placed where Jonas 'looked familiar' from.
"Yeah," Jonas agreed. "And if I'd known Wednesday what we found out yesterday, "I'd 'ave used you for one of my examples. But do you remember the Vulcan kid wearing armor, that made the speech in Vulcan at the beginning of the service?"
"Um, yeah."
"That was Joel. He's Captain Spock's son, and our sworn brother in the Clan. That was Seth, who handles C.I.C. – kind of our command center – for Cory, alerting us that something is up with Joel, from the sounds of it something less than pleasant. Harry and I may need to beam out on a moment's notice if things get hairy."
"Which brings us to you, Calvin," Harry said. "You're a part of the Clan now, presuming you want to be – we rescued you, more or less, and took you for a brother, literally. And you showed you want to pass on that help by how you ran to get Ethan when Jonas asked."
Calvin was following all this with wide eyes. Josiah and Maureen, catching what the boys were doing, were nodding along.
"When we nearly got killed last Saturday," Harry went on, "and got taken out of time to recuperate, the four of us – Jonas and me, and the Judge and Aunt Maureen – agreed to take on helping out fourteen kids that had been enslaved as sex toys by the religious bigshots that were running America in that other timeline. Our friend Kyle, who's like Peter, agreed to bring them forward a week to give us time to get things ready. We all are expecting them to arrive today. But if we end up having to go off helping rescue Joel or something, we may have to count on you to be the Clan presence when they get here – along with Philip and the twins, because they're coming over too. You haven't met them yet; I think you'll like them."
"Wait a minute!" Calvin exclaimed. "You're rattling that off like you're telling me the plot of a superhero movie."
"It does seem that way sometimes," Abbie said wryly. "Personally I think my kid got bitten by a radioactive Vulcan, and developed sehlat senses or something of the sort." She grinned.
Jonas was giggling at her. "And you're worse!" she went on at him. "All your lives I've told the two of you, 'don't bring home the kids of murder victims; it only leads to complications.' But do you think they listen? Nooo!" By now both boys were laughing uncontrollably, and Maureen and the judge were not far behind.
Jonas pulled himself together after a few minutes, and took pity on Calvin. "Let me make it as simple as possible, Calvin. "We're the Clan. What that means is that we're committed to helping kids, the way most of us needed help, and that we've got almost unlimited powers to act to help them. Potentially, when we see a case where a kid's been abused or neglected, or maybe abandoned, any one of us can act as arresting officer, judge, jury, and if necessary executioner of the person who abused or neglected or abandoned them. What we need to do is to act in accord with Vulcan logic, and to be absolutely certain of the facts, which we get from telepathic readings of the victim and alleged abuser. For our group here in Maine, we depend on the twins – you'll meet them in a few minutes."
"Two of the cutest little redheads you'll ever see," Abbie amplified.
"They're only seven," Josiah interjected, "and from my own experience, your first impulse is going to be to discount them as 'just little kids.' You get disabused of that attitude the first time they turn into little Vulcan witnesses before your eyes." He smiled. "The rest of the time, though, they're the sweetest little cuddle-puppies you ever held and gave your heart to."
"The point, though, Calvin," Harry added, "is that how you get to join the Clan is to be taken as a brother by another Clan member – the way Jonas and I did you. Now, you need training, just like we did – but both of us had to fake it through rescuing Jed and C.J. back when we first met up with the Clan. And the other half of it is that we don't just do rescues – we make sure the kids have good happy homes with love and brotherhood, make them a part of us."
"This is like the third or fourth alert in as many days," Jonas said, "and if everything goes okay, we'll be here when Kyle shows up with the kids. But if we're not, you and Philip and the twins have got to be there for the kids. Just use the Golden Rule: treat them the way you'd want to be treated in their shoes, and you'll be fine."
"When in doubt, act like you know what you're doing," Abbie added her advice as well. "They'll never figure out otherwise." She gave Calvin a grin and a wink that oddly did more to reassure him than anything anyone had said up to that point.
She then turned and began busying herself with a breakfast she knew Maureen and the two boys would like, pausing to check menu choices with Josiah and Calvin as she bustled about.
As she was preparing the meal, George and his boys pulled into the driveway. Randy and Drew came running in, faces flushed and grinning, followed by Philip and George at the door. Harry let them in and introduced them to Calvin, whose lap Randy promptly ensconced himself on. With the aplomb of a longtime short-order cook, Abbie put together four more breakfasts, knowing that even if the boys had already eaten, they'd be ready for more. George accepted Maureen's offer of coffee, and Jonas, Harry, and Josiah brought George up to date on the events in Augusta the previous day.
Half an hour later, their blood sugar up and ready to meet the world, they heard a mixture of "Wow!", "Where are we?", and "Hey!" coming from the living room. A second later, Kyle's cheeky little face peeked around the kitchen doorway. "Brought 'em, like I promised."
"Hey, Kyle!" Jonas said with a broad smile. "C'mon in, I want you to meet my new broth...."
Kyle held up his hand. "Hang on a minute," he said. "Something's wrong. I could see you guys meeting Calvin back at La Casa. But now everything's fuzzy."
Josiah spoke up. "For some reason, it's been getting harder to see the future, for those with that gift, or at least that's what P..." He caught himself. "I have a feeling we're not supposed to talk about things you don't know yet, Kyle. Am I right?"
"Uh, yeah," the little Mikyvis said shyly. "I don't know what this is, but I don't like it. Hmmm, I wonder if Mikey put something in place to protect us from sensory overload, or somethin'?"
"Makes sense," Harry said.
"Anyway, I got the kids in the other room, and they're still a little scared," Kyle added. "Remember, for them it's only a second since they met you guys on the beach."
"Let's go make the poor little darlin's feel at home!" Maureen said decisively. And they trooped into the living room to meet the rescuees from the Free Holy Republic timeline again.
Calvin was startled by what he saw: fourteen children, all younger than himself, though the oldest not by much, nine of them stark naked and the other five wearing only skimpy underpants. The oldest girl had developed a figure, and seemed totally unembarrassed at being seen naked by them. She smiled sweetly at Philip, who appeared thunderstruck at seeing her again. One of the girls had the slightest hint of breast development; she was the only girl wearing panties. The two little girls looked scarcely different than the boys, except for longer hair and the obvious difference between their legs. The littlest boy, a dark-haired kid an inch shorter than Kyle and just as skinny, was looking wistfully and expectantly at Josiah. "Come here, Joey," the judge said, and scooped him up and hugged him tightly as he ran into his arms. There were four boys huddled together in a group, a bit older than Joey but clearly not yet in their teens. A fifth, a redhead looking to be about 11, was shyly hiding behind the girls. That left the four oldest boys, who were clearly almost or just entering their teen years. The smallest of them, a slender strawberry blond, looked fearful and was pressed tightly to the side of a slightly taller, heavier though still slender boy with dun hair, who was staring at the two little redheads that had come with George, who were staring back with abstracted expressions. The tallest of the boys, with light brown hair, was standing protectively behind the littler boys and girls. But the last of them, a Hispanic boy with dark brown hair and skin that looked like a permanent tan, took Calvin's breath away. Naked like most of the others, he was clearly well into puberty, and it showed. Their eyes met. And time stopped for them both.
At Camp Bam Bam, people were waking up, in very different circumstances and moods.
Dan woke up with a touch of lingering sadness. He'd cried himself to sleep the night before. A nurse had brought him his milkshake the previous afternoon, with a terse message from Chang that Tony had been called away. He'd hoped Tony would come back, but there was no sign of him the rest of the afternoon or the evening. And the nurses wouldn't let him help, because his chart said he'd overdone it. He'd laid in bed bored, watching TV.
He was beginning to admit to himself that he was having feelings about Tony, and he knew that would never happen. He remembered seeing Malinda, and Tony talking about how hot she was in his eyes. 'He's straight, I don't even have a chance,' went through Dan's mind. This worsened his depression.
Jared woke up stiff and achey. As he came to his senses, he realized that it was because he'd fallen asleep in a straight chair located between Jed's and Mickey's hospital beds, with his head and shoulders up against the mattress on Jed's bed. Jed was sleeping peacefully, the bruises on his chest looking markedly better from the biobed's work. He remembered the fight the day before, how he thought he'd lost Jed and Mickey to gunshots, the feelings he'd felt as he killed General Adams's troops, and his resolve to protect the two of them – which had led him to sit up next to them overnight. Apparently his body's exhaustion had overridden his determination and let him fall asleep sometime during the night.
As Jared stretched, trying to get the kinks out of his muscles, Mickey roused. "Hey!" he greeted his younger brother.
"Hey yourself," Jared said. "How d'ya feel?"
"Not too bad," Mickey answered. "My back aches where I got paralyzed back when, and my left hip is sore. But other than that, I feel pretty good."
"Kewl," Jared said. "You've been on biobed healing overnight, from where you got shot yesterday. Doctor Gordan said the shot to your back should have paralyzed you again, but I guess what Peter did to heal you kicked in again, because it was healing itself as soon as they got you on the biobed."
Doctor Debra walked in just then. "Good morning, young man," she said to Mickey. She picked up his chart and looked it over. "Let's see how your wounds are. You want some privacy?" as she glanced at Jared.
"He's my kid brother; we've shared a room and changed clothes in front of each other. He's no problem."
"Okay, then." She perfunctorily did the usual blood pressure, listening to his heart and lungs, and so on, then looked at his hip. "That's healing well," she said. "Let me get some help so I can see your back."
"Oh, I can roll over perfectly well," Mickey smiled. She looked momentarily startled. He flipped up onto his side."
She looked at the wound where his body armor had been driven into his spine, then took a blunt metal probe and started touching it around the wound. "Feeling anything?"
"Yeah, you're poking me with a cold metal thingie," Mickey said, smiling.
Dr. Debra picked up the chart again, looked through it, shook her head, and said, "Well, it looks like you're doing much better than expected. I want you to be sure to get follow-up on that spinal wound."
"When can we get out of here?" Mickey asked.
"I'd say to rest for another few hours," she answered. "One of us will check you again at noon, and unless there's problems, we can release you then – on condition you agree to get that follow-up exam. I'll also recommend you use a cane for a day or two, keep a little weight off that hip until it's fully healed. You can get up if you like, but take it easy until noon."
"Thanks, Doc," Mickey said with a smile.
"My pleasure," Debra said, and left.
"Let Jed sleep," Mickey told Jared. "Looks like he needs the rest. Gimme a hand getting up." With Jared's help, he got out of bed and essayed walking around a bit.
Over in the pods, Tony came slowly awake to find Malinda already up and alert, doing her morning exercises. "Mornin'!" she greeted him. "How're you doing?"
"Great! I could lie here and watch you do jumping jacks all morning!"
"Just done with them," she said as she finished the last repetition. "But let me show you my variation on squat thrusts." She jumped onto the bed, grinning.
* * *
Half an hour later, Tony came back to his senses, looking up at Malinda through afterglow. "Oh my God," he said, "Dan!" She cocked her eyebrows in question. "When you showed up yesterday, I was taking him a milkshake. I haven't been back to see him since. He's probably wondering what happened."
"Well, let's throw some clothes on, go get a breakfast, and then go visit him," she replied.
Just then, however, an alert buzzer sounded, followed by Seth's voice: This is a General Alert to all Clan Short Divisions. I repeat, this is a General Alert to all Clan Short Divisions. We have an unknown situation involving Joel Short in Orlando and request that everyone be at station and ready to assist at a moment's notice. Please respond immediately."
Their eyes met, and they began to dress. Before they were done, Draco's announcement was piped through. 'Dragon Division to Alert Status. This is not a Drill. Repeat, this is not a Drill. We have a Code 975-Charlie - Sa'ren Short's life is in danger. I repeat, Code 975-Charlie. Sa'ren Short's life is in danger... Daileass is activating emergency teleport. All VSO operatives - Blue and Black - are to report to Arming Stations. Absolute Sanctions are authorised. Anyone preventing the gathering of information or preventing the cause of justice is to be eliminated. I repeat...'
Tony's mind went unbidden to the fact this was a near reprise of what had happened his first night there. They finished dressing in silence, and Malinda armed herself. "I'll catch you after this is over," she said – "or before, if I learn what's going on and have a chance. You're going to the clinic?"
"Yeah," Tony said. "That's where I'm needed." And he realized with a start that he meant it – that was where he fit in, where he was counted on, and that he liked being responsible. He gave her a solid liplock, she palmed the door lock, and they were off.
Things happened.
Linda stepped forward and took Philip's hands. "It's good to see you again," she said warmly. "It was only a few minutes ago for me, but Kyle said it's been a week for you. I hope you're still happy to see me."
It did not take a telepath to know that Philip was very happy to see her. George looked very concerned about this.
Calvin and Manuel remained eye-locked. It was obvious that the Hispanic boy and the slender blond 14-year-old were intensely attracted to each other.
As Randy continued to stare at Terry, Drew made eye contact with Harry. Harry nodded, and turning to the young strawberry blond, said, "Come here, Trent.” The boy fearfully walked over, and Harry repeated his technique from the beach of rubbing between Trent's shoulder blades. As Trent untensed some, Harry went on, "The twins need to work with Terry. I'm not sure what they're up to, but I got the clear impression from Drew this was important. Wanna sit with me and watch?"
As Drew turned back to Terry, Randy broke away and motioned Maureen over. She came and sat on the floor; Drew climbed on her lap and cuddled. Randy snuggled up to the 12-year-old brunet Terry, leaning into him. He absently reached out and wrapped his arm around the little redhead.
"You gotta understand something," Randy said.
"We just started learning..." Drew added
"...about fractions in school." Randy picked it up smoothly.
They continued the whipsaw technique. "Telepathic twins..."
"...work a lot like that."
"Randy and me..."
"...kept ourselves separate..."
"...much as we could."
"Jamie and Jacob..."
"...went the other way."
"Sometimes Drew does..."
"...all the thinking..."
"...for both of us."
"Sometimes it's the other way around, Randy does." Drew went for a complete sentence.
"But each of us..."
"...doesn't feel complete ..."
"...without the other."
"That's his problem," Randy said, hugging Terry.
"They killed his brother,"
"And he hasn't..."
"...felt like a full person..."
"...ever since."
"He loves you a lot," Drew said to Trent.
"But he's incomplete."
"We gotta find out...
"...how to fix that."
"And you gotta love him..."
"...special much 'til we do." This last was directed at both Maureen and Trent.
"You're saying he's missing his brother?" Maureen asked.
"More like, it feels like he lost a piece of himself when his brother died," Harry guessed. The twins were nodding vigorously.
"But if we can hang out with him..." Drew started.
"...we can use our minds with his to help..." Randy went on
"...and he'll be able to help the other kids..."
"...because he can draw on our minds..."
"...and tell them things they way they'll get it..."
"….'cause he went through it with them."
"That works for me," Maureen said. "George, are you okay with it?"
"Okay with what?"
"The twins want to be here," Maureen explained. "Terry here is a telepath like them; his twin brother was killed. They can share things with him mind to mind that will help the whole lot of them adjust better."
"I don't know, they've got school...."
"Daddy! This is 'portant, it's our job!" Both twins were vehement.
Jonas spoke up. "They're right, George. I don't like how much school we've missed, but we've had things that had to be done, and we were the ones who needed to do it. They're the people who know what needs doing and how to do it; we'll need them here for a few days."
Abbie was smiling at the three little girls and the redheaded boy. "C'mere, sweeties," she said warmly, and they ran over to her, the boy following a bit more warily.
Kyle intervened at this point. "Jacky," he said to the tall boy, "you know this group, what they need and such. Why don't you give Mrs. Johnson a hand with things?"
"Good idea, Kyle," Josiah said from the chair where Joey was glued to his side.
"Well, I think what ought to happen next," Abbie said, "is for me to show the kids their new rooms, and give them a chance to get some clothes on. Maine in October is chilly enough that bare skin is not going to be comfortable for them, even if they don't mind running around in the altogether."
Jonas nodded. "That suit you okay, Jacky?" he asked.
"Sure," Jacky said. "Come on, you guys," to the smaller boys he had been hovering protectively behind. Abby shooed the little girls in front of her. Terry caught Trent's eye, and they got up, followed by the twins.
Linda embraced Philip, planted a firm kiss on his lips, and broke away with a smile. "I'll be back shortly," she said.
She tapped Manuel on the shoulder. "Manuel. Manuel!" He finally broke the eyelock with Calvin. "We're going to go see our rooms and get some clothes," she said. Manuel nodded, turned back to Calvin, stepped forward and embraced him, kissing him firmly. Then he broke to follow her.
Calvin's face was bright red, but a silly smile was threatening to take over his face. "Go with him," Jonas directed him, trying to keep from laughing. Calvin shook his head as if waking up, blushed even deeper, and followed him, his pants noticeably tented.
Jed came awake with a start. Something was wrong. He placed himself – he was in the Med Bay at Camp Bam Bam. He remembered getting shot – his Kevlar body armor must have stopped the bullets, but judging from how his chest felt, apparently he'd been bruised by the impact. It was that dull ache of a healing injury, and he realized he'd been on a biobed, healing. He was hungry. Jared and Mickey were nowhere around.
He spotted a note. If you wake up before we get back, Mickey's getting some practice walking. We'll be back. Love ya more than a moose is big! Your Jared He smiled at the Jared-ism.
A nurse scurried by. "Hey!" She didn't stop. Very faintly, he could hear the sound of an alert siren. He thought a second, and figured out what to do.
"Daileass!"
"You rang?" The 12-year-old AI's tone was one of forced playfulness.
"What's going on, dude? Sirens going off, and all, and the nurse didn't stop when I called out."
"It's bad, dude. Joel's been beaten, tortured, and … and raped. He nearly died; in fact ,they're still trying to save him."
"What! Where? When? How?"
"Not sure of what all happened yet, but he disappeared from the Thompsons' this morning, and reappeared at Gibson's Store. Somehow he got assaulted and apparently gang raped in the stockroom there. Gibson's son Ralph found him."
"Ralph Gibson?! We just arrested him for bullying. You sure he wasn't one of the guys doing it?" Jed was quietly angry.
Daileass went into action. He retrieved the records of the Templetons' and McKendricks' intervention earlier in the week. Then "Richard? Scan Ralph! Find out if he's telling the truth about what happened!"
"Can't do it without good reason, Dail' – Adam's orders."
"Do it. We've got probable cause." The Camp executive AI dumped the records into his clone brother's positronic brain.
"I see. Scanning … He's telling the truth. Apparently the night in lockup scared him out of being a bully."
Daileass turned that part of his attention back to Jed. "It's cool, Jed. Apparently you guys made the right call – he's scared, and grieving, and not interested in being a bully any more."
In a room alongside the Emergency Room, Ralph sat in a chair, feeling stunned. His mother's death had hit him hard. His dad maintained that all his rebelling came from not being able to deal with her being gone, and he had to admit that he might have a point. Then he'd gone and gotten into all that trouble last week, gotten grounded – and then Joel, the heir of Surak, had come into his dad's store – and they'd made friends. Joel's charisma, the thing that made virtually everyone he met love him, had been in full force, and Ralph was no exception – he'd made a good new friend of the little Vulcan.
Then he'd found him, in his father's own store's stockroom, beaten and tortured, a rape victim, dying. And it made him wonder, 'Why, God? You took my Mama from me, and my friends, and everything. Now him? Why?'
His dad had told him that he needed to get cleaned up – after all, he was covered with green Vulcan blood. When he didn't respond, his dad had headed into the restroom to get some supplies to help him clean up. He sat there, head down, with Hermes and Mercury trying to give him comfort. But the two cheetahs were not getting through to him.
Mickey was getting around quite well with the cane. His back, which they had at first feared might make him a paraplegic again, was healing in a nearly miraculous manner. His leg, on the other hand, though not as severe a wound by normal human standards, was taking longer to heal, and he needed the support of the cane. The leg had an unpleasant tendency to give out on him and/or twinge painfully. Jared was sticking close to him; he'd caught him the first two times it had happened, before he got used to walking with the cane. Mickey was of course in a hospital gown; Jared still had on the uniform he had worn to the attack on the last Genesis base the day before, having refused to leave Jed's and Mickey's side for anything.
They were coming down the corridor past I. C. U., heading toward the Emergency Room, before turning around to go back to their own ward. Logan, Amur Khan, Runt, Jory, Tristan, Donna, Will and Billy were huddled outside the Emergency Room., with grave expressions. When Mickey called out a greeting to them, the two boys were quickly brought up to date on what had happened to Joel.
They were, of course, shocked. They stood there, stunned, grasping for what to do. Jared stumbled over to one side to try to compose himself, and saw Ralph sitting in the adjoining room, apparently under guard by the two cheetahs. Remembering Ralph as the leader of the bullies that had been picking on Lee, he jumped to the wrong conclusion. He drew his phaser and marched in towards Ralph, aiming straight at his chest, intent on avenging Joel.
Mercury's eyes widened. "Don't!" he cried out as Jared pulled the trigger....