THIS STORY IS COPYRIGHT © 2007-2024 BY D&B. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DISTRIBUTION FOR COMMERCIAL GAIN, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, POSTING ON SITES OR NEWSGROUPS, DISTRIBUTION AS PARTS OR IN BOOK FORM (EITHER AS A WHOLE OR PART OF A COMPILATION) WITH OR WITHOUT A FEE, OR DISTRIBUTION ON CD, DVD, OR ANY OTHER ELECTRONIC MEDIA WITH OR WITHOUT A FEE, IS EXPRESSLY PROHIBITED WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S WRITTEN CONSENT. YOU MAY DOWNLOAD ONE (1) COPY OF THIS STORY FOR PERSONAL USE; ANY AND ALL COMMERCIAL USE EXCEPTING EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS REQUIRES THE AUTHOR'S WRITTEN CONSENT. THE AUTHOR MAY BE CONTACTED AT: csu.24.hour.feedback@gmail.com
What happened at the end of Chapter 32:
As Mickey, recuperating from injuries sustained in the battle the day before, was getting some exercise, with the fully uniformed and armed Jared at his side, they encountered the group outside the Med Bay Emergency Room, who told them of Joel's rape and torture at Gibson's Store. Shocked, Jared turned away from them to compose himself, and saw Ralph Gibson, the boy they had arrested for bullying Lee, and who had now helped rescue Joel, "under guard" by the two cheetah boys Mercury and Hermes – who were in reality trying to comfort and support him, and themselves feeling guilty for what they felt was having inadequately guarded Joel.
Jumping to entirely the wrong conclusion from his encounter with Ralph a few days before, and from Ralph's appearance, covered as he was in green Vulcan blood, Jared drew his phaser and moved to the door of the room Ralph and the cheetahs were in, intent on "avenging Joel." As Mercury spotted him and called out, "Don't," he pulled the trigger.
Several things happened nearly at once. As they had trained to do in guarding Joel, Hermes moved quickly between Ralph and Jared, while Mercury, with cheetah speed, leapt to pounce on him and disarm him. Mickey slapped Jared's gun arm up and out of aim. Though he did not yet know the reason Ralph was there, his own training told him this was not a time to 'shoot first and ask questions later,' and so he acted, almost reflexively, to prevent his little brother from doing something foolish.
The phaser, still set to a fairly high-powered narrow beam appropriate for the previous day's battle, burned a hole through Hermes's ear. The pre-teen cheetah-boy roared in pain. As the beam continued its arc upwards, it melted the fusible link on the sprinkler above them, drenching Ralph and Hermes, Jared on the floor with Mercury on top of him, and Mickey.
The whole series of disastrous events was just too much for Ralph to take. He broke into weeping hysterics. As he gasped for breath between laughing and crying, he said, "He shoulda killed me!"
Mr. Gibson had just come out of the restroom attached to the room they were in, where he'd been getting wet cloths and cleanser to help clean up his son. He was aghast to hear his son say that. "Oh, god, Ralphie, no! Don't say that! What's wrong?"
"God took away mamma," Ralphie sobbed, "'n' then I did some stupid shit to get back at Him, and they stopped me and had me locked up. 'N' then I just meet Joel, and make friends with him, and people try to kill him. An' he..." his gesture indicated Jared on the floor, with Mercury still on him "...hates me now, and wants to see me dead. I can't take it!"
Mercury meanwhile had wrested the phaser away from Jared. "I'll hang onto this for now," he said. "You tried to kill an innocent boy who was here because he helped rescue Joel. You'll answer to Adam for that!"
"He did what?!" Jared wheezed – it would have been an exclamation, but he was just getting his breath back after having been knocked to the floor by a cheetah-hybrid boy who weighed more than he did. "He's a bully; he was pickin' on Lee!"
Mickey was seriously stressed. He'd reacted instinctively to the emergency. His heard was pounding, beating fast, and his leg spasmed with the increased blood pressure and sudden movement. It folded under him, and he went down.
Amur Khan had rushed to the door at the commotion, Runt at his side. Now he stepped over and easily helped Mickey back to his feet, his massive bulk making it easy to for him aid the 16-year-old. He looked down at Mercury and Jared. "You are under arrest for firing a weapon at another inside this base," he growled. Mickey and Jared looked at him in shock.
Ralph held up his hands in a sort of supplication. "Don't do that on account of me," he said. "I don't wanna go on; from what he knew, he was doin' the right thing, to get rid of me."
"He acted contrary to the military discipline this place runs under," Khan rumbled, "and nearly executed someone innocent of the crime he believed him to have committed."
Mercury looked up, still on top of Jared. "Do you want us to take him into custody, brother?" he asked the big tiger-boy.
Khan made a dismissive gesture; his words were to Jared. "Can I have your word that you will not commit any further assault while we sort this out?"
Jared glared at him, then reluctantly and petulantly said, "Yeah. You have my word."
Mr. Gibson was visibly shaken by what Ralph's outburst had revealed. Drawing a deep breath, he came to his son's defense. Looking Jared square in the eye, he said, "My boy should never have done what he did Wednesday. There's no excuse for it. He's been hanging with the wrong crowd, but that doesn't excuse what he did. His mother would be ashamed of him." That last sentence, though spoken to Jared, was obviously for Ralph's benefit; he visibly cringed as it hit him.
"But," Mr. Gibson went on, "he has done nothing warranting death. He was doing his level best to fight in Joel's behalf, and was holding him in his arms weeping when he called out to me from the stockroom. You just tried to kill my son. There is blood between us."
"Daddy, back down," Ralph cried out. "I'm a screw-up; I don't deserve it. But look, Jed...."
"Jared," he absently corrected him.
"Jared, I didn't do anything to Joel. We made friends. I just wanted to help him, save him." The sincerity in Ralph's voice was palpable, and it took Jared – indeed, everybody – aback.
Jared began to speak up when suddenly five pre-teen boys wearing yellow slickers and helmets came running in. Two of them grabbed the fire hose from the wall, and called out "Where's the fire?" Unfortunately, the pressure in the hose was such that it got away from them, and began flopping around like an epileptic snake, dousing down the room and all its inhabitants. The two kids lunged after it, but were unable to grab it as it whipped around under the force of the water. Another of the fire brigade kids, using a bit more common sense, went to the wall and turned off the water to the hose.
"Halt!" a thoroughly soaked, and disgruntled, Amur Khan said as he picked himself up off the floor where the impact of the fire hose's spray had knocked him.
"The fire alarm went off, sir, so we responded!" one of the five boys said.
"The alarm went off because a stray beam hit the sprinkler system. There was no fire," Mercury said as he too picked himself up and began grooming himself.
"Oh," the kid said in a small voice.
"Dismissed!" Amur Khan said to the fire brigade, with just a touch of irritation in his voice. They sheepishly filed out, after re-stowing the fire hose.
The group left in the room looked around and at each other. The only one not drenched was Runt, who had been mostly protected from the spray by Khan's bulk, and even he was a trifle wet here and there.
It was anyone's guess who started laughing first, but within a few seconds everyone there was convulsed in laughter. Hermes, still trying to dry himself, reached up and fingered his pointy, catlike ear, with a neat, cauterized hole in it from the phaser beam. "Well, I was thinking of getting it pierced for an earring anyway," he commented drolly. This brought about another cascade of giggles.
"I do," Amur Khan said, gasping for breath, "have to place you under arrest, Jared, for unlawfully discharging an energy weapon within the confines of this base." He paused to think what he should do about it; the problem had never come up before.
Mickey, however, had heard enough. Jared was his little brother, his responsibility, and he would be damned if he allowed him to undergo military justice, Unit style. He could hear his parents' oft-repeated directive ringing inside his head: 'Take care of your little brothers, Mickey.' He tilted his head and looked up at the bulk of the 7'5" tiger boy.
"Khan," he said, "just why is the Unit able to openly intervene just about anywhere in the world now, instead of being a refugee force hidden away, fighting guerrilla-style against General Adams? Why are you personally honored as brother warrior by Vulcans and Klingons, instead of being considered a half-human half-cat hybrid?"
Amur Khan was taken aback by that. But he answered honestly, as he prided himself on doing, "Because we are now a part of Clan Short of Vulcan."
"And so are we," Mickey said. "When Adam called for help, we came. We knew we might have to risk our lives, and we did. But we came anyway, because that's what brothers do. Clan Short is made up of people who have vowed to be brothers to each other." He drew a breath. "What Jared did was wrong, and I don't propose to make excuses for it. He is answerable to Cory for that. But I will not stand by and see him tried and convicted by the Unit when he and I volunteered to help the Unit in its hour of need." He moved his hand slowly and deliberately to his own holstered phaser, making no attempt to draw it.
Khan got the message. But then Ralph spoke up. "Let him go. He thought I was hurting Joel, and he was right to attack me. I don't deserve to live." Mr. Gibson winced.
"You shouldn't think about yourself that way!" Jared said, echoed by the two cheetahs.
Khan was in deep thought. At last he turned to Jared. "You are free to go," he said, "on condition that you answer to Cory as soon as it may be arranged. But your weapon will be held by the Unit, since you have shown you will not use it responsibly."
Mickey turned to Khan. He said nothing, but their eyes met, and a wordless thought of gratitude was carried between them.
"Come here, Jared," Mercury said, and brought him in to cuddle with Ralph. Hermes joined them.
Together they tried to bring some comfort to the former bully, now a broken boy. Mickey nodded and motioned to Amur; they walked slowly away, with Runt tagging along.
Tim was devastated, and only a wish for revenge kept him going. Life had not been easy wresting a living from their Montana farm, but they had managed to survive. His father had been a hard-bitten man, strict but also deeply caring, and his mother was cut from the same cloth. Nothing had given the 12-year-old more happiness than to have his father check out his work, smile, and tell him, "Good job,son," and drop his strong, grizzled arm across the boy's shoulders. If anything besides family had motivated the man, it was a fierce attachment to the farm he had been raised on and now himself farmed – an attachment that had led to their deaths.
The Holies' Army had been moving through, on their way up to Missoula, when it tried to go across his father's fields – the fields ripe with fall wheat and barley, that would be their income for the year. He had run out, his wife at his side, and her carrying Tim's toddler little sister in a sling at her hip, to try to persuade them to go around his livelihood – and the result was that they had shot all three of them down in cold blood. If his father had not sent Tim on an errand just before, he would have been killed with them.
Tim of course had been devastated, and after hiding while the Holies rolled through, he'd grieved for his family, then pulled himself together and dug three graves. said his last good-byes to his family, took stock of his future, and realized he could not stay on the farm by himself. With cold, implacable need for revenge keeping him going, he rummaged for money and food, packed himself a backpack, and set off down the road.
Hiking down the cold and dreary road, he was surprised to see the young towhead standing on the rise just off to his left, waving him down.
Accompanied by many of the others, the fourteen kids rescued from the Free Holy timeline trooped down the hall to their new bedrooms. Josiah carried little Joey into his room and sat him down onto the bed, starting to turn to get him out an outfit from his dresser. A stifled sob made him turn. Joey was sitting there with a look of absolute terror on his face.
"I thought... you said... we wouldn't have to...." the eight-year-old gasped out.
Josiah was dumbfounded for a second, then it dawned on him what the boy was thinking. "Oh, Joey, you don't!" he said. "I just set you down there while I went looking for some nice comfortable clothes for you. Want to help pick 'em out?" And he held out his arms.
With a gasp of relief, Joey jumped into them. Josiah cuddled him close, then turned to the dresser and pulled a drawer open with his free arm. "Okay, which shirt would you like to wear?"
Abbie took the two little girls into their room. They were of course wide-eyed at having a room of their own and at all the girl-y things that she, remembering what she'd hoped to do for her long-lost Deborah, had picked out for them. Pretty little feminine panties and camisoles, frilly dresses, bobby sox and shoes.... Gleefully they put them on.
"Oh, don't you too look cute!" she exclaimed.
She was not prepared for their reaction. "But... if we look attractive," one said, "that means the men are going to want to put their things into our cunny!"
Shocked, Abbie said, "They'd never do that!" and went on to reassure them as best she could, a bit more aware of how much they were up against with these kids.
Linda, the oldest girl, slipped gracefully into her room, while Maureen went to help two of the boys. They ran into their room, clearly exuberant at how nice it was in their opinion. Since Maureen and Josiah had only bought basic furniture and a few changes of clothes, planning to take the kids to pick out what they individually wanted, this surprised her. What hit her even harder was when she picked out clothes for each of them, commenting that they made the boys look good. She was not prepared for them to ask,"Please, ma'am, can we wear somethin' dif'rent then?"
"But why?"
"'Cause if we wear stuff that makes us look good, the men will want to do stuff to us!"
She of course tried to put their minds at ease about this, that nobody was touching her boys against their will, or there'd be trouble. They seemed mollified but unconvinced. At last she walked down with them to Linda's room.
Linda had put together the sheerest of the nightwear Abbie had picked out to help her feel feminine and attractive. Her outfit would have made a harem girl jealous. "Do you think Philip will like it?" she asked shyly.
"I think he would love it," Maureen said, hiding a smile, "but I think it's rather a bit much for him right now. He needs to get to know you as a person first, Linda."
"But why? I know he wants me! And he's a lot nicer than any of the High Pastors; I could tell that right away. It doesn't matter what I want any more; I'm already used merchandise. Besides," she blushed, "I kinda want to do it with him."
Wondering why she'd ever wished she could have had a daughter too, Maureen sat down and talked with her about the ways of boys and girls together.
Manuel pulled Calvin into his room and dropped to his knees, reaching eagerly for the zipper on Calvin's jeans. "Hey, stop!" Calvin said.
Manuel's face fell. "No?" he asked. "But I thought you...."
"Um, uh..." It was Calvin's turn to be flustered and embarrassed. Then he was doubly embarrassed, as Maureen, Linda, and the two boys stopped at the door.
"There'll be plenty of time for that later, Calvin," she said with a laugh. "Help him find something comfortable to wear, would you?"
"But I wasn't ... we weren't..." Calvin was stuttering.
"No need to be embarrassed; your big brother is just as bad!" she grinned. "But we've got a lot to do today; that kind of fun can wait until later."
Calvin looked at Manuel's confused face. "We'll talk later, bro," he said, giving him a hand up. A tentative smile met him in return.
Justy woke up and happily stretched, looking out the window at the deep salmon edging of the brightening sky. It was a good day to be alive.
He was not prepared for the little towheaded Mikyvis that popped up in his bedroom with a serious expression. "You need to come with me," Peter said. "You'll be back here at the instant you left, as far as anybody else is concerned." They vanished.
It was a beautiful rolling meadow, strewn with blue, yellow, and white wildflowers, with a blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds overhead. Justy paled. "I know where we are," he said. "This is the portal to... Does this mean I'm...?"
Peter snickered. "No, silly. I just picked it for a quiet peaceful spot so we can cover what we need to do."
Justy relaxed. "Well, what's up, then?"
Peter gave him a big hug. "There's nobody who's better than you at showing caring, helping guys who've been through Hell get their feet back on the ground." Justy started to demur; Peter said, "No false modesty. You're good straight through, and you know it and don't let it go to your head, which is even better." He paused. "But for some of the stuff coming up, you need to have a sense of what it feels like, to go through what they did."
Justy nodded slowly. "Do you mean I've got to live through what some of those guys went through?" he said, a touch fearfully.
"Nope; that'd be cruel." Peter blinked. "But what I did was, I took the memories a different you would have had, from going through some of the worst of it. Ready?"
Justy asked, "What are you going to do?"
"Give you a set of memories of what you might have gone through, in another place and another time," Peter replied. "It's important for the job you need to do, in two different alternate universes, and will help you help people back in our own. It's bad, but it's kinda necessary."
"Lay it on me," Justy said, bracing up for it.
Before them appeared Mikey and a honey-blond boy of about 12, who looked a great deal like Justy. "Hey, there, O giver of random hugs!" Mikey said to Peter.
Peter giggled and jumped into Mikey's arms, snuggling. Justy and the other boy looked on. Mikey reached out with arms and wings and drew them both in.
As they separated, Mikey looked at the other boy. "Justin, you know what happened, don't you?" he asked. Obviously mystified, the boy shook his head.
Mikey wrapped a wing around him. "Think back. What was the last thing you remember the man doing to you?" he asked in a deeply compassionate voice.
"He... he took the angel necklace that Mama gave me," the boy quavered. "He'd left it on me all the times before."
"And what did you do then, in your mind?" Mikey asked gently.
"I asked God to save me, to get me out of there."
"And He did, the only way He could," Mikey replied with infinite compassion. "He'd had you for a week; it was your time."
"You mean I'm..." the boy paled.
"Yes. It's time for you to go home, Justin. That's why I'm here. I'm an angel sent to take you home." Peter and Justy watched quietly as Mikey said this to the trembling boy. "There's one thing you can do first, though," Mikey added. "It will stop the man who killed you, and it will help a great many boys in several other universes. But only if you're willing."
A bit of resolve came across the face of the fearful boy. "If I can do that...! Go for it, sir!"
"I'm Mikey, not 'sir'." The angel turned to Justy. "I heard what you agreed to with Peter. Justy Dodds, may I present to you Justin Early. He comes from a world where your father never existed, and where your Uncle Spock is only a TV character."
"Like where Joel and Scotty and Galen came from?" Justy asked.
"Yep," Mikey said. "Neither of their worlds, but one like that. Justin was adopted by the Earlys and had a pretty good childhood, but they died young, and he's been in foster care. He was recently kidnapped by a man named Clifford Handy, who raped him for a week and then killed him. You need to mind-meld with him, to know his experiences."
"But only Vulcans can mind meld!" Justy responded. "I mean, I know what Uncle Spock does, because that's how he trained me. But I can't do it myself!"
"And who created Vulcans with the ability to mind meld?" Mikey asked leadingly.
"Oekon, of course," Justy replied.
"And Oekon is...?"
"God. It's their name for Him, like the Seminoles call him the Great Spirit."
"Right," Mikey said. "And you have a Mandate; feel it? This once, here and now, you have the ability to perform nahs-kohv, on one who was you in a different place and time – because it is His Mandate that you do so."
Justy seemed awed. "Oh... o-kay," he said hesitantly.
"Think of it as on-the-job training for being an angel," Peter said with a grin.
"I ain't no..." Justy began, and then caught himself. "You're serious."
Mikey nodded. "It's going to be a long time before you need those..." he gestured, and Justy had white wings "...but you have some work to do, for me, for Peter, for Justin, and for Our Father."
Justy stepped forward, coming face to face with the other, younger Justin. They smiled at each other. He stretched forth his arms, placing a hand each at the other boy's temples. "My mind to your mind... your thoughts to my thoughts...."
+ + +
A few minutes later, they broke contact. There were tears in Justy's eyes. "I'm so sorry!" he said, and drew the boy into a hug. Peter jumped up; Justy caught him and included him in the hug. Lastly, Mikey stepped forward and wrapped his wings around the others.
As the hug broke, Mikey said, "I figured that the last thing you experienced on the mortal plane, Justin, should be a sense of love and caring, from a couple of boys who specialize in showing it. You ready?"
With a still wan but a bit more confident smile, Justin nodded. "Yeah." They vanished.
"Now to work," Peter said with a grin. "We're off to the high desert; you'll know what to do. After all, you read the story."
It was a cold, dark night outside Palmdale, California. Overhead a half moon cast spectral light on the desert. A boy of 12 with light brown hair and green eyes, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, was lying exhausted atop a freshly dug grave. "I'm phase-shifted," came Peter's quiet voice. "Go do your thing." Justy looked down at himself, noticing he was dressed in jeans and a blue polo shirt, and seemed to feel a bit younger, like the 12 his other self had been. He felt himself begin to glow, and sensed the boy on the grave take notice, sit up and spin around. Justy realized who the boy was, and what he needed to do.
"Wha...who are you? How did you get here? What is that light?"
Justy held his hands up and the boy quit asking questions.
"Devon, my name is Justin. I'm here for you."
"What do you mean, you're here for me? Nobody wants me, that's what the man said."
"There is always someone who wants you, Devon. You may not know for a long time who they are, but there is always someone who does care and wants you."
"But who are you? I've never seen someone who brings his own light with him."
"Well, Devon, I'm here from someone who will always want you. I'm an Angel."
"An Angel! What d'ya mean, you're an Angel? If you're an Angel, then why are you talking to me? I was doing bad things, the man said so."
This story is continued as Devon's Choice, on the Corner Cafe.
As Peter disappeared, Justy looked around. He was in a public park. A woman with two preschoolers hurried by him as if he weren't there. Gradually it dawned on him that here and now, he could choose whether to let others see and hear him or not. He felt a warm chuckle inside his head. It was Mikey. 'You're getting the hang of it,' he heard, and took heart from the support.
Down the walkway into the park Devon, or his ghost, came pelting. He ran into a secluded area. Smiling, Justy walked over to join him.
"Justin, Michael, Justin, can you hear me, can anyone hear me? Please answer!"
"Yes, Devon, I can hear you."
Devon turned around and saw Justy standing before him, enveloped with a warm glow. He ran toward Justin and threw his arms around him, crying.
"I didn't know. You were the first, I saw your picture, weren't you?"
Justin held Devon and stroked his back in comfort.
"Yes and no." Justy equivocated; it was a true enough statement – the other 'him' whom Mikey had taken on was in fact the boy Devon meant. But with what he now knew from Mikey, he also knew that the man Devon had chosen to stay behind and bring to justice had in fact kidnapped and killed others before even his other self. So, speaking in the Justin Early persona he had absorbed in the mind meld, he clarified. "I was the first of this group. The Man, as you call him, has done this before, two other times before. So far you are the first to choose not to go forward. I cannot tell you everything, but I can tell you that there have been others in other places. I can't tell you where; that is up to you to find out."
"But can't you stop him? You're an Angel."
"No, I chose to move ahead, that was my choice. You chose to stay and that is your choice. Besides I'm not an Angel yet." Justy chuckled inwardly at using his catch phrase with a difference.
"But how can I stop him? What about Michael; he could stop him."
"No, Michael cannot do it either. He is not allowed to intervene directly unless he has been given permission. As to how you will do it? Think about it, the solution will come to you."
Devon looked at Justy as he thought. His eyes widened a little as he realized something. "The things that have happened, bumping the table, them feeling me when I touched them, Gus the dog seeing me. But how can I do it more without really freaking them out?"
"Yes, the things that have happened. How you can do it without freaking them out, I think that no matter what, they will be freaked out. How you do more things though, I can't tell you how, you have to discover it yourself. You're on the right path, keep it up and it will come to you."
"You can't help me?"
"No, this was your choice; you have to do it all yourself, without any help from us. You can only get the help of anyone whose attention you can attract. I'm not allowed to assist you."
"Can I call on you, whenever, when I need to talk to you?"
"Not really. I am limited as to when I can appear to you. Only when the need is really important, like right now because you saw that I was one of the victims and it was decided to let me talk to you. Other than that reason, you will not be able to talk to me, until everything is finished, then we can talk for eternity." As he started talking, Justy knew, both from having read the story and the things which came into his mind, what to say, and that the promise he made, he would be able to keep – someday.
"Okay, if that's the way it is. I'll keep working at it. Will they ever be able to see me? Ya know, as a ghost or something?"
"I don't have an answer to that. I don't know."
Devon hugged Justy again.
"Okay. Thanks, Justin, and I'm sorry that you were one of his victims."
"That's okay. I'm glad I could help a little bit, but I have to get going now. I'll see you again."
Devon released Justy and stepped back.
"Bye, Justin."
Justy waved and faded away. Peter reappeared and took him on to the next point in space time.
As with the previous scene, this is an outtake from "Devon's Choice", by Eric Aune, available to read on the Corner Cafe. There were also other things which Peter, Justy, and Mikey did in this alternate universe, which will be told as flashbacks at the appropriate times.
As Peter and Justy flicked into existence in a beautiful grassy meadow, , Justy was glad to see Mikey waiting for them, looking again like his teenage self. He was dressed in a polo shirt and faded blue jeans; his wings were invisible. Looking around, he saw a boy in white polo shirt and shorts sitting on a granite outcrop overlooking a pool at the edge of the meadow, tossing pebbles into the pool and watching the ripples spread.
"I'm gonna go 'splorin'," Peter said. "It's nice here; I spent a lot of time here while I was sick. I'll be back when you're done." And he scampered off.
"Hey, angel-in-training!" Mikey said with a big grin. "This one, you need briefing on. The kid over there is named Trevor Garrity. Online he uses 'Tgar', which led his boyfriend to christen him 'Tigger'."
"Like what you call Cory!" Justy giggled, then clapped his hand to his mouth, realizing he might disturb the boy.
"Don't worry; he can't hear or see us until we're ready to manifest to him," Mikey reassured him. "Back on Earth, he's unconscious thanks to trauma from getting shot. He lost his birth father, Logan, whom he loved, some years back, and he's just lost his mother, Sandy. You'll meet them shortly. At one level, he knows his mother's dead, but he's suppressing the knowledge. He met and came to love his stepfather, Jake, a while back – in fact, it's Trevor who brought Jake and Sandy together, and he stood up with them, all smiles, at their wedding. He saw Jake shot when he was, and he thinks he too is dead, which isn't true. That more than anything makes him not want to go back, recover from his wounds, and keep on living. Trevor's got some important work to do in his world. Your job, and mine, is to convince him to go back. Ready?"
Justy nodded. Mikey faded, and Justy walked over to the rock, picked up a pebble and tossed it in. Trevor took a moment to register that it wasn't one of his pebbles making the ripples, then looked up.
"Hi," Justy greeted him.
"Hullo," Trevor answered.
"My name's Justin." Trevor raised his hand weakly in greeting. "Mind if I join you?"
Trevor turned away, shrugged and went back to his pebble tossing. Justy smiled and climbed up onto the rock, and sat next to the boy. He opened his hand, took a pebble out and threw it into the pond. His ripples hit Trevor's ripple and they rebounded back against each other. Pretty soon the boys were throwing the pebbles and making different ripple patterns. Justy looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye and occasionally saw a lift at the corners of his lips that the boy quickly suppressed. "This is fun, huh?" he essayed to break the ice.
Trevor shrugged and went back to his ripple forming. Justy quietly joined in. After a time he looked at the other boy and kind of pushed against him with his shoulder. He got Trevor's attention. "So what's your name?"
"Does it matter?"
Justy cringed a bit inside. This wasn't going to be easy. "I guess not, but I told you mine, so I just wanted to know what to call you, instead of 'Hey You', or 'Kid'."
"I don't remember," Trevor replied.
"You don't remember, huh?"
"Yeah, I don't remember, okay." Trevor scowled at him and went back to throwing the pebbles, although he was throwing them a little harder now and scowled a bit. Justy just smiled at him and joined him in ripple making.
"Maybe I can guess it?" Justy said. The other boy shrugged and kept up his throwing. "Let's see... Abercrombie? Basil? Clarence? Dabney?"
Trevor snorted. Justy looked at him and saw a little lift of the corner of his mouth. Justy smiled and continued. "Edsel? Ferdinand? Guillermo? Haggis? Indiana? Jamaal? Kingston? Lowell?"
Justy took another peek and saw the curl was still there, even though the boy still kept his head turned toward the water and would not look at Justy. Justy smiled before continuing. "Menachem? Norbert? Olaf? Percival? Quincy? Rigoberto? Sebastian?"
Justy sneaked another look, and the curl at the side of Trevor's mouth was a little more pronounced, he continued, "Theodore? Ulysses? Vernon? Wencelaus?"
Another snort. "Xerxes? Yeardley? Zebulon?"
"Trevor." The name was said so low that Justy almost didn't hear it. He turned to the boy smiling, and saw that there was a smile lifting the corner of his mouth and a little bit of a dimple was showing. He was still not looking at Justy, but continued to throw pebbles into the pond.
"Hi, Trevor, nice to meet you."
"Yeah, thanks."
"This is fun," Justy said, "but don't you feel a little warm?"
"I guess."
"Cool, let's go swimming?"
"But I don't have any other clothes."
Justy grinned. "So? Look around, there's no one else here but us. Don't tell me you've never skinny dipped?"
"Well... yeah... a couple of times."
"Great, then let's go." Justy pulled his shirt off and started to remove his sandals. "C'mon, what're you waiting for, unless you want to go in wearing your clothes?"
"You wouldn't dare," Trevor said.
Justy looked at him with a mischievous smile and raised an eyebrow, with an expression that said 'Wanna Bet?'. Trevor took his shoes and socks off and then stood up to take his shirt off. Justy had taken his pants off and was standing there in a pair of white briefs. His skin appeared to be lightly tanned and flawless. Trevor took his shorts off and stood before the boy in a pair of the boxer briefs that he liked, also as white as the rest of his clothes. Both boys grinned at each other and hooked their hands in the waistbands, and slipped their underwear down.
"Last one in is a rotten egg!"
Justy and Trevor both ran to the edge of the rock and jumped in. The water felt just cool enough to make it feel good when they hit the water. The two boys started to splash water at each other, and wrestled each other in the water, trying to dunk each other. The beautiful sound of boys laughing and playing filled the area. For thirty minutes they wrestled, had swimming races and just had fun. The sad look that had been on Trevor's face was replaced with a look of happy joy. Still invisible nearby, Mikey relaxed a bit; it was working. At the far side of the meadow, Peter, phase-shifted so he could watch a rabbit hopping around and browsing on some clover without startling it, heard them and grinned.
At the end of the thirty minutes, the boys walked out of the water with their arms around each other, like they were old friends. They made their way up on top of the rock once again, and lay down next to their clothes and let the sun warm their bodies. They looked at each other and giggled. Trevor reached over to Justy and they held hands. Trevor closed his eyes and smiled up to the sky. "I love this place. I could stay here forever," he said.
It was time for Mikey to make his appearance. "Yep, it is nice, but I'm sorry staying here is not possible," he said in a firm, gentle tone.
Trevor was startled by the slightly deeper voice that came from behind him. He let go of Justy's hand and turned around quickly to look at an older teenage boy who stood on the meadow side of the rock. The boy looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, with brown hair and eyes. He was dressed casually, in a polo shirt and some very light blue jeans. The boy was smiling at them, and looked friendly. Trevor started grabbing for his clothes to cover himself.
"What do you mean?" Trevor asked. "Do you own this land?"
Mikey smiled. "No, not exactly. Why don't you boys get dressed and come and join me? I brought a picnic lunch."
Justy and Trevor looked and saw a picnic blanket set down in the shade of an oak tree, with the basket opened and several items of food laid out. Trevor's stomach grumbled just then. Justy smiled at him, and the boys got up and quickly got dressed. They walked in their bare feet over to the blanket carrying their shoes. Trevor marveled at how soft the grass was; it felt like he was walking on a cushion of grass. They dropped their shoes on the grass nearby and sat down on the blanket. Justy went over to the older boy and wrapped his arms around him. The teenager smiled at him and hugged him back. "Hi, Mikey," Justy said.
"Hi, Justin. How're you doing?"
"Good, thanks. I'm glad you're here."
"Well, you know me," Mikey said. "I'm here when I'm needed."
Mikey gave Justy one more squeeze before he let him go. Justy went to sit near Trevor. Trevor looked at him with a puzzled look. "You know him?"
Justy smiled. "Yeah, Mikey's a real good friend. I love him. He's the best big brother anyone could have."
"So he's your brother?"
"Not exactly, he's like a brother to anyone who needs him."
"But..." Trevor objected.
"Questions later, time to eat, if your stomach is any indication." Justy had the typical Clan viewpoint: the most important things in life are stopping the bad guys, lovemaking, and food, not necessarily in that order. Trevor's stomach grumbled again, causing the three boys to laugh. Mikey sat down and they began to eat. There did not seem to be an end to the food and all of it tasted better than any food that Trevor had ever had anywhere before. The boys were mostly quiet, but they looked at each other and smiled and giggled a little as the lunch progressed. After Trevor was completely stuffed he leaned back, looking at Mikey and Justin. "So you're not brothers... exactly. So where do you live?"
Mikey and Justy exchanged glances. "Oh, around."
"What does that mean... around? I don't see any houses here." Trevor was not going to let go of this.
"Well... there aren't any."
"D'you have a tent or something like that?"
"No, we don't need it."
"But..."
"Trevor, wait a minute." Trevor closed his mouth and waited. Mikey crawled over and sat next to Trevor and put his arm across Trevor's shoulders as he looked at him. "Do you remember what I said before we had lunch, when you were on the rock?"
Trevor thought back and looked at Mikey and nodded. "You said it wasn't possible to stay here."
"Yes, I did," Mikey replied. Do you know why?" Trevor shook his head and his eyes started to shine a little with unshed tears. Mikey looked at him and smiled gently. "Yes, I think you do. Why don't you tell me why you want to stay here?"
Trevor looked down and the tears started to slide down his cheeks. He took some hitching breaths and felt Mikey's arm tighten around him. He leaned into the arm. Justy had moved to Trevor's other side and put his arm around his waist and leaned his head on Trevor's shoulder.
"M... my... dad's dead. I miss him so much. He can't be gone, but I saw all the blood on his shirt and he fell down and stopped moving. I just found him and now... now he's gone. He was my dad!"
Trevor started to cry with big wracking sobs. Mikey pulled him on his lap and held him against his chest. He laid his head on top of Trevor's as the boy cried into Mikey's chest. Mikey let him go, and just held him gently as he rocked him. Mikey let him get all the crying out. Justin had moved up behind Trevor and leaned against him, putting his arms around Trevor's waist and holding him as well. After what seemed like a very long time, Trevor started to calm down, and Mikey and Justin relaxed their hugs. Justin sat back on his heels but kept one hand on Trevor, and rubbed his back. Trevor looked up at Mikey. "What am I gonna to do? I need Jake, I love him so much. He protected me and now I don't have anyone to protect me now."
"Sure you do," Mikey responded. "Close your eyes and listen to your heart. Look deep inside yourself."
Trevor closed his eyes and leaned against Mikey. He felt his body relax as he went deep into his feelings. He seemed to be searching all around and he started to feel some things. He felt sensations of warmth and light, and when he focused on them, he recognized the feeling of friendship and could see the persons who were a part of the warmth and light. Mikey was feeling Trevor's sensations and channeling them to Justy. He felt like he was flying along as he searched for the light. He saw friends that he had from school and scouts. He delved deeper and felt two warm sensations, and when he focused on them, something inside him recognized them as his Uncle Tom and Aunt Terry. As he neared their light he could feel their love. Warmer and brighter lights drew him on. He found his friend and adopted brother Jeremy and his other friend, Jeremy's boyfriend Jared. He could feel their love for him and each other.
Next Trevor felt an even brighter glow and when he neared it, he felt a strong warm protecting presence. It seemed to hold him and cover him completely with the feeling of safety. Within that light he felt that nothing could touch him.... It was his new father Jake, he knew it, Jake was alive; somehow! He didn't know how it was possible, but Jake was alive and he seemed to be okay. Before he could let himself get lost in the sensation of love and complete safety, another presence made itself known. The light was nearly blinding and the warmth was like every lazy and perfectly warm summer day rolled into one and multiplied a thousand fold... his own boyfriend, Zach. The love he felt from Zach completely pulled him in and he melted into it, wanting to join with it and merge with it, and just revel in the complete and unconditional love that surrounded him. His inner being started to let itself go and bask in it, when it realized that something was missing.
Trevor looked around and focused everywhere, but he couldn't find it. He searched frantically everywhere, going every direction that he could, but he couldn't touch it. He rushed back to where he came and opened his eyes looking with panic into the eyes of Mikey, who looked down at him with sympathy. Trevor started to shake his head and tears started to come to his eyes. "No... mommy... where's my mom? I couldn't find her. Where is she?"
"I'm here, honey." Trevor twisted around in Mikey's lap and saw his mom, standing at the edge of the blanket, looking at him with so much love. The tears in his eyes fell and he launched himself into her open arms. He buried his head into her chest and cried. She held him and comforted him.
He started to feel other hands on his back, rubbing it and stroking his hair. Hands which were bigger than his mom's, a man's hands. There was something familiar to him in the feel of those hands. He looked up at his mom with disbelief in his eyes; she looked down at him and smiled as she loosened her hug. He slowly turned around and kneeling there in front of him... "Daddy!"
Trevor jumped into the arms of his father. Logan enfolded his son in a tight embrace; both of them were crying. Logan stood and as he did, Trevor wrapped his legs around him and kissed his cheek, smiling through his tears, and getting an answering smile and kiss from his dad. They just looked at each other and smiled. Sandy came up and wrapped her arms around both of them and the family enjoyed something that they had not had in a long time. Finally Logan loosened his grip a little and Trevor slid down and stood on his own, between his parents. He stood there holding their hands, smiling and looking at each of them. He looked at Mikey and Justin standing before them. Justy stood in front of Mikey, with Mikey's arms draped over his shoulders and holding Justy's hands. Both were smiling at the happy family. Trevor smiled and looked at the two boys. "Thank you so much."
Mikey answered warmly for both of them. "You're welcome. However..." Mikey got a serious look on his face. The look made Trevor's smile fade a little. "Remember what I said earlier?"
"Yes, but..." Trevor's smile faded away and he looked down to the ground.
"Trevor, look at me, Tigger." Trevor raised his head and looked at Mikey, who had moved over to him and knelt down. "You do not belong here. It is not your time. However, the Father allows all of us free will and you can make a choice."
"Then I choo..."
Mikey held up his hand to stop Trevor. "Wait; before you do, I want you to think very carefully. Yes, I know what you were going to say, but I want you to really think about it first. Search deep and then choose. You will get your choice, but make sure it is the right one."
His parents knelt down on either side of him and looked at him. His mother Sandy spoke for them. "Yes, my baby boy. Look deep, you know how. Look very deep."
Trevor nodded at them and closed his eyes as he looked deep inside himself. As soon as he took a deep breath, he felt two bright lights next to him. He looked into them and knew them instantly, Mom and Dad. The love from them comforted him as he knew they would. Just beyond them he felt two other lights and he gasped as he saw Mikey and Justy shining brightly. He could feel their love for him and it was strong and pure. What really shocked him though is that flowing from their backs were beautiful wings, shining brightly. Mikey's were gold and Justy's were white. He could see their faces and bodies and the light shined from them.
Trevor smiled and another light and feeling of warmth reached out to him; his curiosity drew him and suddenly he once again felt that great warmth, love and nearly blinding light that was Zach. The light began to outshine all others around him. As he drew near, he felt another light enfold both him and Zach, covering them within a field of protection that was both strong and soft at the same time... Jake. He felt everything that they both felt for him. He flowed through them and connected his glow to them, joining the three of them together until they were one being. The sum of the parts was greater than the whole. Everything felt completely right to him. He felt more whole than he had ever been in his life. He looked back and saw the light that was his parents, Justin and Mikey standing there. He let go of the feeling and came back to himself, opening his eyes. With tears running down his face he looked at his parents and smiled. They took him into their arms and held him. They rocked together for a little bit, and murmured their love to each other and gave each other little kisses. Trevor loosened his grip and they followed suit, but kept their hands on his shoulders as he turned to Mikey and Justy, who stood in the same position as before. He could not see their wings, but he somehow knew that they were there.
"So you guys... are, uh... angels?"
Mikey and Justy laughed. "Yes, little bro, we are." Mikey winked at Justy, who giggled.
"Cool," Trevor said. "So is this heaven?"
Mikey answered. "No, not exactly. It's a little place that the Father let me make to take people who needed to get away to someplace safe for a little while. Sadly I've had to use it more than I would have liked. In fact, Zach spent a little time here, but he doesn't remember."
"I think I'm ready to make the choice."
"Yes, I think you are. I want to let you know, that we believe that this is the right choice. You felt what Zach feels for you. It was so strong that we can easily feel it. There are still going to be some tough and maybe even dangerous things happening, but you will come through. You, Jake and Zach together can weather almost anything; don't forget that."
Trevor's mother Sandy spoke up. "Honey, we love you so much. But Mikey is right; it is not your time here yet. When it is time, we will be here and everyone that you consider family, Jake, Zach and Jared, Jeremy, Tom and Terry, all of us will be together. But only when it is time. We would have loved to have you with us, but there are people out there who need you more right now. People you haven't even met yet, but rest assured they need you. Take care, baby boy, we love you."
His birth father Logan added, "Trev, I am so happy that you and Jake found each other. I couldn't have asked for a better man than him to take my place in your life. With him, you will become a wonderful person. So, my baby boy, go return to them. They need you now; we will always be near watching over you. We love you and can't wait to see the man you become. We know that man will be a great man."
They gave him a hug and then stood up and stepped back a little. Trevor looked at Mikey and Justy, and now he could see them in their glory, wings shining as they moved toward him. He felt tears like raindrops hit his face. As the angels neared him they each put a hand on his shoulder. "Look up, little bro." Trevor looked up and more water struck his face.
"Close your eyes, little bro, and when you open them next, you will see a sight that will fill your heart with such joy that it will be hard to hold it all in. See you later, little brother. Know that we all love you."
One of the drops on his face trickled down to his mouth and he reached out with his tongue to taste it. It was a little salty and when he got the taste on his tongue, he smiled.
Trevor opened his eyes to see his boyfriend Zach leaning over his hospital bed, tears running from his eyes. In the meadow Logan made a gesture that was half wave and half salute to the two boys as he and Sandy vanished. Mikey grinned at Justy. "How do you feel about that, Mr. 'I'm Not an Angel'?" Justy laughed. Peter came running, and they headed out to their next port of call.
The preceding scene is adapted from chapter 16 of Eric Aune's "Jake and Trevor", which is definitely worth reading, and may be found on the Corner Cafe. Permission for the use of the Meadow of Escape, originally created by Roland and provided for the use of C.S.U. authors generally, is gratefully acknowledged.
In the abandoned flat, the woman lay dying. John sat by his mother's side, wiping her fevered face with a cool washcloth, praying with all the fervency of his twelve years that God would help her.
Peter and Tim flicked into existence, phase-shifted. "Watch and learn," the little Mikyvis said to his companion. Moments later another figure appeared, a beautiful woman dressed in styles 30 years out of date.
The woman on the bed saw her and gasped. "Aunt Tess!" she exclaimed. "But you're..."
"Hush, my little princess," Tess said. "Yes, I went on to my reward while you were still a little girl. But I knew you would need me, and when I was given the choice, I claimed the right to be your guardian angel, doing what I could to help and protect you. Remember when Henry was ready to beat you, while you were carrying little Johnny here? I stopped him then."
"Why didn't I ever see you?"
"I didn't have the Mandate to appear and help, until now. Johnny's prayers...." Tess paused. "Anyway, the important thing is, it's your time. Time for you to come home, princess." She smiled, and reached out her hand.
"But what about my boy?" the dying woman asked.
"He'll be taken good care of; never fear," Tess said with a warm smile. "Now tell him good-bye for now."
John's eyes were large and fearful. His mother turned to him. "It's my time, dearest," she said to him. "Be good and grow into a man I'll be proud of. I love you so much!"
She reached out and took her aunt's hand, and stepped lightly from the bed. Behind her, the body she no longer needed gave a final sigh and went into arrest. She and Tess vanished.
Peter shifted into view, and gave John a big hug. He collapsed sobbing. Peter held him while the older boy cried out his grief. Then....
"What will happen to me now?"
"You're coming with us," Peter said, motioning to Tim, who became visible to him. "There's an important job for you guys to do."
Across the war-ravaged, famine-torn land similar scenes played out. Slowly Peter gathered a dozen boys like Tim and John, all 11 or 12 or barely 13, all without family. One was First Nations from northern Ontario, one from the Tampa slums, one from a Baltimore suburb, one from a small Midwest farming town. One, called Wes, was the son of the minister of a small community church that the High Pastors had taken away by force.
Finally the group ended up in a dorm-style cabin in a former boys' camp alongside a forest-lined lake in the Ozarks. Peter dropped the boys there, giving them a moment to relax, popped out and retrieved Justy, and returned scant seconds after he'd left.
"Boy, that was weird!" Justy said to Peter. "Playing that other Justin, being the guidance those boys needed, strengthening them to do what they had to, and yet letting them handle it ... that was freaky!"
"Think of it as on-the-job training, Justy," Mikey said with a grin as he popped in. "You handled it just fine; I'm proud of you." He looked over the boys, who were staring wide-eyed at him as his wings glowed golden. "Tim, you were the first; come up here and tell everyone why you're alone."
Hesitantly Tim came forward. Justy and then Peter hugged him, then Mikey joined them and wrapped his wings around them. When they broke, Tim seemed more at ease, more confident. "The Holies' army killed my mother and father and m'little sister ... shot 'em down in cold blood," he said bleakly. "I started walking down the road, and Peter flagged me down."
"John?" Mikey invited, and he too received hugs and told his story. One by one the boys went through this. Justy's eyes were watering at what they had been through, and each boy was seeing his loss reflected in the eyes and words of the others. "We're all alone now," John observed.
"No, you aren't," Justy said, catching a glimpse of where this was going. Mystified, they looked at him with question. "You've got each other. And from what I've seen, once you've got that, there's almost nothing you can't do."
"Exactly," Mikey said. "Where you're at used to be a boys' camp. It's yours now. The couple who are caretakers here will make sure you have everything you need. Starting with that," as he pointed to a table heaped high with sandwiches and snacks.
The boys needed no second invitation – in fact, a comparison to a horde of locusts descending on a rich crop would probably not have been far wrong. Justy and Peter assisted in ensuring a lack of leftovers, too.
"Okay," Mikey called the now-sated boy back to order, "you've got a picture of how each other came to be alone, and I can tell that each of you feels the same – you're now a band of brothers, if you choose to be."
"I do," said Jimmie. "Me too," echoed John and Tim, followed by the same or similar words of agreement from each of the others.
"Good," Mikey went on. "Now, what you're needed for: Peter, show them what you saw." The little Mikyvis concentrated. Into the brains of each of the boys he ran a slide show of sorts of all the problems that the Free Holy timeline was experiencing.
"What can we do about all that?" John asked, in a tone that suggested he felt overwhelmed. The expressions on several other boys suggested they felt the same way.
"Well, let me explain," Mikey said. "Justy here is a leader of a group of boys that are out to change the world in another timeline. He's also an angel-in-training. Don't say it!" he laughed as Justy started to protest. "Wes, it's time to tap your special knowledge. You read your Dad's Dionysius treatise; tell us all about angels."
Wes looked startled at being put on the spot. But he remembered what he'd read in his father's old theology books. :The celestial hierarchies are complex," he said, reaching back in his memories. "First comes the Guardian, who is supreme under God over all times and places, according to the writ under which he works. Next come the Archangels. Then the Angels proper, the Immortals. Below them are the Guardian Angels, the people who have passed on and watch out for their loved ones, and the Saints. Then there are the Mychivenses, who look like small boys and do not have wings but can be recognized by their purple eyes." Peter started giggling; Wes looked over at him, and a light dawned. "You're a...."
"Mikyvis, is how you say it in English," Peter giggled.
"Then there are the Virgins, who pray for others' needs," Wes said. "And finally there are the Amores."
"Tell me about the Amores," Mikey asked leadingly. Wes blushed. "Don't worry; everybody here has done the same thing you did."
"The Amores," Wes said, "are a group of God's messengers who bring healing, of body and spirit, and relief of need. They appear looking like boys of 12 or so, but they are always naked and they give off a subdued golden glow. Umm..." he paused.
Jimmie looked ready to jump in; Mikey smiled encouragement at him. "And they always have stiffies!"
"Right," Mikey said. "I need to leave very soon; my work is on our home timeline. Justy and Peter will stay with you a while, because Mikyvis can jump around in time, but they too are needed elsewhere. However..." he motioned Justy to the far end of the table around which they were sitting, stood, and opened his wings as Justy did likewise at the other end. A gentle glow flowed out from Mikey's and Justy's wings, suffusing the boys.
"Wow!"
As Mikey lowered his wings, the glow diminished but remained, fading slowly. "Peter will help you learn what you need to know, to do the work that is yours. You must support each other; this is your base, your safe place. You will be able to jump around in time within this timeline. Wes will help you know what you need to know to avoid time paradoxes. Wes, there's a copy of Sturgeon's commentary on Dionysius, that lists all known appearances of Amores, over on the bookshelf. And you all will learn how to heal body and spirit."
Mikey looked at Peter and Justy. "I've finished with what I was sent here to do – which was to empower them to know and do what they need to, in order to do the work Our Father has called them to do." He looked grim. "I have to leave now, to deal with something much less pleasant back on Alpha-Prime – something you'll learn about after your work here is done. Now you need to teach them what they need to learn." His eyes met Justy's, and Justy felt a sense of confidence and caring pervade him. Then Mikey faded from view.
Justy and Peter looked at each other. 'You start,' Peter 'pathed to him. 'I'll come in when they're ready to learn jumping around in time and space, and how to heal bodies. But you've got the important part – how to heal a broken spirit. They're all good kids; that's why they were picked. They just need to know how to share the caring they feel. And that's what you're here for.'
"Now, here's what you need to know..." And Justy began to give them the rudiments of what he had just learned.
Two hours later, the boys were getting fidgety. They had been listening avidly, and, Justy being Justy, there were enough giggle-inducing side comments thrown in that it didn't feel like (shudder) School – but they were learning rapidly. Justy noticed. "Hey, let's take a break," he said.
"I'm itchy," Zach said.
"Why'n't we go take a swim?" Tim suggested.
"No swim suits," Troy objected.
"What do we need them for?" Tim asked. "We're all guys, and it looks like we're staying together here. I always skinny-dipped back home."
Amid much blushing, they came to an agreement that a skinny-dip was in order. Suddenly twelve boys, or rather thirteen including Justy, were stripping for a swim. They darted out the door and headed for the water.
Zach held back shyly, though, keeping to the side of the group and turned as much away from them as possible. With a giggle, Justy surreptitiously checked on his suspicion of why the boy was acting especially shy. He caught Peter's attention. After reading Justy's thought, Peter also giggled.
"Hey, guys, remember earlier, before Mikey left?" Justy said. A chorus of "Yeahs" came back. After a quick scan of the boys, Peter had picked farmboy Tim, who was used to skinny dipping, and naturally exhibitionistic Jimmie, for the demo. "Well, remember what Wes and Jimmie said about how you guys would appear to do your work?" As they slowly caught on, Peter triggered the first element of Tim and Jimmie's new abilities in their new role. Both boys began giving off a subtle warm golden glow, and levitated slightly, to about 18 inches off the ground – glowing in the sunlight, stark naked, and proudly erect. At Justy's nod, they reached out and touched the hearts of the other ten boys, replacing the preteen insecurity and shyness with the confidence that when they appeared to others in their new roles, they would be doing the right thing. As they finished the demo, their glow faded and they dropped gently back to standing on the shore. Tim was nonchalant about his boner; such things happened skinny dipping, in his experience. Jimmie, though, thrust his hips forward, showing off.
"Feel better?" Justy asked Zach.
Staring at Jimmie, Zach said, "Huh?" then "Oh, yeah. Thanks!"
"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Tim called, running out into the water. And they became boys having fun for a while, splashing each other, playing water tag, and generally having a good time.
After half an hour or so, they were interrupted by a warm alto voice. "Boys! Lunch is ready!" They looked up startledly to see a warmly smiling middle-aged blonde woman standing near the shore. Thankful they were in waist-deep water, the boys made no move to head for lunch. Caught in shallower water, John abruptly sat down.
The woman chuckled. "Don't worry, boys!" she called out. My husband and I have been working here for a dozen years, and boys have been skinny dipping all that time. We're honored to be able to keep the place running for you; don't worry about what we might see."
Emboldened, Jimmie headed for shore. She smiled at him, "My, aren't you the good-looking one! Hamburgers, your choice of chips, and macaroni salad with assorted sodas sound good for lunch?" His grin was answer enough. She turned and led him up to the picnic table she'd loaded with lunch for 14 hungry boys.
One by one the others followed him ashore and up to the table, their lack of clothing forgotten as they began to pig out. Justy and Peter grinned – one more hurdle vaulted.
Three days later, Justy woke before the others. Peter was standing there watching him come awake. "We've done our job here," he said. "We're both needed back in Alpha Prime." They roused the other boys, said good-bye, and Peter transported them back home, to the moment they'd left Southcrest three days before. "Be strong; you're needed here," Peter said and vanished.
Meanwhile, in Arkham, the various groups were making their way back to the main rooms from the bedroom wing. Josiah took a good look at the twins, cuddled with Terry and Trent, at Philip looking worried as Linda came back in, at the faces of the younger rescued boys and girls, at Jonas and Harry, at Calvin and Manuel. His mind skipped back over the last three days – the funeral down in Charleston, the capital trial the boys had had to conduct, the rescue yesterday in Augusta, Calvin's past... and came to a conclusion.
Kyle came back in from looking around. "It's a nice place," he said. "Looks like it's just right for you guys. Okay, see you last week!" He giggled.
Maureen did a double-take at his final words, then recovered and said, "Yes, I guess you will!" with a chuckle. Kyle popped out.
That was Peter's cue to return. "Where have you been?" Jonas asked his little brother.
"I'll explain later, bro," Peter said. "Stuff that needs what I can do, where they came from," he added in a lower voice, gesturing at the rescued kids. "Anyway, I couldn't come back until Kyle left."
"Why's that?" Calvin asked.
"Because when he left to bring the kids forward, he didn't know Levi was going to turn me Mikyvis. In fact, he didn't know until he went back that he and Tyler were going to have Levi in the first place." He winked. "The first rule of Mikyvisery: always avoid a time paradox." His eyes glowed faintly purple.
"Jonas," Josiah said, "do you remember what Sheriff Eric told you?"
"Well, yeah, Dad. What part?"
"About letting go and being a kid part of the time, not pushing yourself unless it's necessary. I'm seeing you and Harry stressed, I'm seeing the Wentworth kids stressed, I'm seeing Calvin stressed, and I'm seeing your new brothers and sisters stressed. You can override me by going to Cory, but unless you do, I'm telling you that you all need to take a break and be a kid for a while."
There was silence after that pronouncement for a long second, broken by a buzz announcing an incoming call on their commbadges. "Hey, everyone," came the voice of Justy (returned from what he had been doing with Peter). "This is an informal announcement that we have a new division, based in Hawai'i, pending Cory getting back from vacation and making it official. And you're all invited to a party celebrating their creation."
Jonas looked at his father, who looked back. Slowly a smile crept across both their faces. "I detect Kyle's hand in this," Jonas said. Peter giggled.
"Okay, we're going to Hawai'i, folks," Josiah said with a grin.
"You're serious," Abbie asked.
"Yes, mother. Go get changed," Harry said. Abbie and Maureen ran off to change into sunsuits.
"Okay, gigglebox," Jonas said to Peter. "When they get back, we're off to Hawai'i." Peter grinned.
The story of what happened in Hawai'i will be told briefly in Clan Short Pacific Rim Division (CSPRD) chapters 3 and 4, coming out in early 2011 – except for the following event.
Watching the core members of the new Clan division and their parents head off to man the barbecues to feed over 300 people, Jonas frowned and motioned Harry and Peter over to him. "They seem stressed," he said.
Harry giggled. "Clan overload," he said. "Remember what it was like when we first met the Clan, and ended up with a hundred strange things happening at once?"
Jonas grinned reminiscently. "Oh, yeah! And it's only grown crazier since then." He sobered. "Anything we can do?"
"Adam and his team are giving them what they can, already," Harry said musingly. "But stuff like cooking, housekeeping, property maintenance, they need help – and meals, at least, they need it now!" He looked at his Mikyvis little brother. "You got anything up your sleeve, Peter?"
"My arm?" Peter giggled. He scanned for a moment. "Got it. See you in a few minutes!" And he vanished.
Harry and Jonas looked at each other, nodded, and turned back to what they'd been doing – keeping watch over their new brothers and sisters from the other timeline, as they interacted with the other kids, also rescued from abuse the day before, there in Hawai'i.
"Table three's complaining about the Lobster Tempura plate," the waiter said apologetically. "He doesn't like the chili mint sauce it comes with."
"Well, suggest a few alternatives and let me know which he picks; I'll whip one up for him," saucier chef Randy Leister replied. "But I wish people would pay attention to the menu!"
"I think he's expecting to have the meal comped as not to his liking," the waiter said with a quirk.
"Not demn likely!" Chris Desantis said from the grill.
They were interrupted by a second waiter. "Party of ten, seven different entrées, meats to four degrees of doneness, substitutions on five tickets. I need to serve them all together, and they need to be out of here in 90 minutes for an evening meeting."
"God have mercy!" Chris said. "Jess, can you spare time to help with setup here?"
"Give me five minutes to get these 20 appetizers out of here, and I'm yours," commis Jessica Simpson replied. The three chefs pitched in together to get the pending meals up and out to the customers and set up the complex order.
Jessica said something under her breath. Randy chuckled. Chris asked, "What'd you say?"
"Oh, just grousing. I said I wished we had a chance to cook for people who would really appreciate our cooking and aren't constantly making demands."
"Maybe I can do something about that," came a young-sounding voice. They looked up, startled, to see a little blond nine-year-old standing near the relishes prep area.
"What are you doing back here?" Jessica said in surprise.
"Offering you a new job," the boy said cheekily.
"You're offering us a job?" Randy said amusedly.
"Yep, I know what you're thinkin'," Peter replied, covering up with the catch phrase the fact that he actually did know their thoughts, and pulling out his IDs: Starfleet, Clan Short, his own construction company. "I'm a member of Clan Short of Vulcan, and as such I have the authority to hire you, and the money available to do it with. I know some people who need chefs right away. So finish up what you're doing, and come help some kids who need good food and will love it. About a 35% raise in salary from here, plus a rent-free apartment the size of the top-end suites here, suit you for compensation?"
"You're serious? When do we start?" Randy asked.
"Oh, about ten minutes ago. But that's not a problem; we'll just jump back to then," Peter said nonchalantly.
Randy turned to the waiter. "Go get the Maitre d'." As the waiter hurried out, he turned to the other two. "We're doing this, right?"
"Absolutely," Jessica said quickly. "We're needed there, and we'll be happier," Chris confirmed.
As the maitre d' came into the kitchen, Randy eyeballed him. "The kitchen will be closing after we finish with the orders already taken, owing to an emergency situation calling all three of us away. The waiters can handle desserts; everything baked is already in place, anyway. And you can relay our giving notice to management."
While Randy was speaking, Peter had transformed himself into a 35-year-old, apparently wearing a three-piece black suit with an impossible-to-read badge attached. "Do not ask any questions. Just tell them that it ties into why the islands were cut off from the mainland and the dismissal of the government yesterday. That's all I can let you know," he said portentously. As the maitre d' left to carry out his instructions, Peter turned back into his nine-year-old self and giggled. "Ty said it was fun playing spy thriller; he was right!"
"How'd you do that?" Jessica asked.
"Tell ya later," he said.
"Let's get to work so we can get out of here," Chris urged.
Fifteen minutes later, all meals out to their respective tables, Peter transported the three to the new compound at Ewa Beach, and vanished again. They walked up, introduced themselves, and took over a series of grills, with light hearts and smiles on their faces.
Peter repeated the process at the Halekulani Restaurant, where he hired Miguel Fuery and Charles Plungis. His position here was improved by the fact that new ownership, apparently with ties to the former Prime Minister, were expecting Miguel and Charles to continue to produce five-star cuisine while cutting corners on ingredients, to increase the restaurant's already satisfactory profitability. The two ended up quitting on the spot when confronted by an accountant while busy with the dinner rush just after Peter had made his offer.
With an eye out for time paradoxes, Peter transported them in a few moments before Randy, Chris, and Jessica, pointed them towards Jim Hundser, busy at a grill, and vanished again.
For his next jump, Peter realized it would be getting late in Maine, so he tried to go to the limit of the three hours time jump he had been allowed as a 'locked' Mikyvis. It being shortly after seven, he shot for 4:15, and in fact arrived in Maine at 4:15 Eastern time. 'I forgot about the time zone difference,' he thought to himself, then, 'that's not right: it's still before sunset here.' He realized he'd exceeded his three-hour limit by a full six hours of time difference over and above the three hours into the past he'd intended to jump. 'Wow! I need to talk to Levi, or maybe Kyle, about this!' ran through his mind. He cautiously 'felt around' in his mind, realized that the limitations Levi had put in place were not there any more. He grinned and altered his plans, and jumped back to that morning, just after George and his kids had left their home.
After a short jaunt up to orbit, knowing that the Wildes were still houseguests of the Wentworths, he popped into George's dining room. Jack and Marsha were drinking coffee while Brett sat looking out a window with a yearning expression.
"Why, hello, 'boss'," Jack said to him with a grin. "You just missed George and his kids."
"I'll never get used to you popping around like that," Marsha commented.
"Yeah, you will," Peter said to her, then "Oh, I've seen him already," to Jack. Then he addressed Brett. "Hey, want to spend the day with Danny?"
It was like the sun had come out from behind clouds. Brett's face lit up. "Can I, really? Is it okay, mom?"
Smiling, she nodded. Peter transported Brett to Brian and Kait's front porch, saying, "Bri'll no doubt be willing to give you a ride home. Just tell him the old Eccles place; he'll know where to go."
Then it was back to Jack and Marsha. "I thought you might want to get started shopping for your new place," he told her. "Your car's outside." She looked out the window, startled to find their car from New Jersey sitting in the driveway. "How...?!"
"You can thank Ensign Hughes from the Lafayette's transporter squad, when you meet him," Peter giggled. "I had him bring it up here for you."
"Why, thank you, Peter!" she said, feeling real affection towards the thoughtful young Mikyvis.
While this was happening, Peter had caused some electrons to make changes in some Clan records, without bothering to mess with a computer terminal interface. "I got us our first big job," he told Jack. "By Monday morning, Starfleet architects will have drawn up plans for three identical ten-story apartment buildings. We'll be building them on site here, for transport out. Build them as though they were going up in our back lot, except for the anchor to bedrock. I'll take care of that when they're where they need to be. We'll probably need two shifts on duty from Monday morning on – I need them as fast as possible. Fast track the construction as much as you can. We can get anything we need, expedited, through Starfleet."
"When do you want them?" Jack asked.
"Three to four days, if possible," Peter answered.
"You're kidding!"
"No – I actually need them by tonight, but we can work around that," Peter said. "But check your company bank balance."
Jack pulled out his SmartPhone, looked, did a doubletake, and gasped. "For that, we'll get it done," he said. "I can see it's going to be ... interesting ... working with you."
Peter just grinned.
As Jack set to work to plan how to do that fast-track construction job, Peter popped over to a nearby red dwarf star and drew down its energy output, absorbing the extra energy he'd need. Then he returned to Earth and jumped forward to Thursday evening. This one wouldn't be easy, but only a Mikyvis could pull it off. Then he scanned the three apartment buildings to ensure they were complete, and vacant.
Then, one by one, he brought the three buildings back to the Ewa Beach compound on the previous Saturday evening, about 9:15. The people he had hired or would hire were all in the C.I.C. building, cleaning up from the barbecue, prepping the next day's meals, getting a handle on what they would need to do for housekeeping or groundskeeping.
Dirt moved aside in three rectangular spots east of C.I.C. Water, sewer, power, IT conduits grew like snakes through the ground from C.I.C. to the new sites. Peter lowered the buildings into the holes, and anchored them to the bedrock as Jack had provided. He tested his handiwork by turning on the lights, flushing a toilet, and making a phone ring in one apartment in each building. All was well. He smiled.
Then he reached in his pocket, pulled out a cookie and ate it.
Peter skipped back in time a day and a half, and aged himself to 42, dressing himself in what appeared to be an Armani suit. For this one, he'd tell the truth, or rather some of it, but he needed to imply things by his appearance that being a nine-year-old would not do for.
He walked into the local office of the State Division of Labor and Workforce Development. Ignoring the receptionist, he walked directly to the largest office. Inside sat a man with a worried look on his face, poring over printouts. Next to them on his desk sat a copy of the Newark Star-Ledger business section. The headline told it all: "Economy Worsens; Unemployment Up 3%." "Good morning!" Peter said cheerily.
"Good morning to you," the man said affably but with a sigh. "If you're here to register for unemployment, you need to do that up front. The receptionist will be happy to get you started."
"No," Peter said, "I'm here to, I hope, do some hiring."
The man's expression changed instantaneously. "Come in, come in!" he said. "What are you looking for?"
Peter pulled out the ID he had devised for himself and Jack. "I'm Peter Lambert, President and majority owner of Lambert-Wilde Construction. We've been working with Starfleet to produce new facilities for a, well, call it charitable group that I'm a member of. It's actually much more than that, but 'charitable' will describe this particular aspect of what we do. With the facilities in place, we've been asked to locate some people, particularly service industries professionals, to help staff them. I'm here to interview and recruit. If all goes well, I can offer them jobs as of today."
"Oh, wonderful!" the man said, breaking into a relieved smile. "We've got a couple of vacant offices – state cutbacks, you know – you can use. Now, what do you need?"
With a matching smile, Peter handed him the list he'd made up, and fed directly to the laser printer at George's house earlier – earlier in his personal timeline, that is; it had actually been printed the next day, and brought back in time.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Faris. Come in and sit down. Tell me about your work history."
"Well, the state closed down the local special needs home because of budget cuts." Judy Faris looked disgusted. "I'd been working there seven years, and loved it. It was a place where kids from abusive households could be placed until good foster homes and such were found for them. My job description called for keeping the place clean and well maintained, calling in temps. and tradesmen like plumbers and electricians as needed – I did most of the cleaning unless we were especially busy. But I spent nearly as much time with the kids as I did doing what I was hired to do." She looked belligerent. "You would too if you met them – such sweet kids, and so afraid, after what they'd been through!"
Peter nodded. "Yeah, I'm certain I'd always be stopping to give them a hug and some reassurance." He paused. "So you're looking for something along the same lines?"
"That would be wonderful – it felt so good to make a difference in those kids' lives. I'll never find anything like that, of course."
Peter hid his grin. "So is there any chance you might be willing to relocate? What about your husband?"
"I got rid of the ba... him two years ago. It was a choice between Troy and him, and I stood by my son."
"I don't want to pry, but fill me in on that," Peter prompted.
'Well, Mel thought that Troy ought to be getting into sports and dating girls, and, well, that's not Troy." She looked like she was editing what she had intended to say on the fly. Peter did a gentle scan of her mind, and inwardly smiled. That story was all too common in the Clan. It was not, however, the right time to get into details. "Troy lives for his music. He plays a pretty good rhythm guitar. But he told me he looked over what professional musicians make a living doing, and he decided to become a good session musician. He plays recorder, clarinet, harmonica, keyboards, does backup vocals – whatever a group might want to have available for a particular song. His dream is to make a living doing that." Her pride in her son was evident.
"How old is he?"
"Fourteen. He turns fifteen the end of December."
"Does your family live around here?" Peter asked.
"No, my parents retired and moved to Maui last year. They said they couldn't stand the winters around here any more. I can see their point – I don't look forward to making it through another snowy New Jersey winter. But you gotta do what you gotta do, I suppose."
"If I offer you a job, how soon can you be ready to start?"
"Any time, really. If you were serious about relocating, I'd need to do some packing...."
"No need to worry about that," Peter said. "I think we can handle the move for you. Go home, get a nap, and meet me here at 5:00 with Troy."
The other interviews went much the same. Madeline Hupp had headed up the housekeeping crew at a family-friendly resort, until new management decided to contract out for cleaning, and not worry about having someone on site if a guest needed fresh towels, shampoo, etc. Stephen Meir had worked for that contract company until laid off, allegedly for inefficiency but, Peter discovered in one of his scans, actually because his boss was homophobic. Rodney Kile had done maintenance for a local college's dormitories until they'd cut back staff; as the man with least seniority, he'd been laid off, even though he had a strong recommendation from his ex-boss.
Recruiting six more cooks was easy, too – the restaurants had been hard hit by the economic slowdown. Peter giggled as he signed up the man who had been a short-order cook in his last two jobs, but only after his uncle, hit by chain competition, had closed down the family pizzeria where he'd taught the man to make pizzas from scratch. He predicted a busy future for a pizza chef around 87 kids and teens.
Peter found a team of six groundskeepers who had been laid off from a local landscaper and property maintenance firm en masse. He hired them on the spot, and transported them to Ewa Beach on Sunday, when Prez and his crew would have a chance to deal with them separate from the ones needed immediately.
After two very special interviews, Peter popped down to Orlando with them, briefly reverting to his nine-year-old self for the purpose. He picked a time when Austin Michaels and Dan Richardson were sharing a coffee break. "Hi, Doc and Dan," he sang out. "I've got two people I need you to approve: Dr. Rod Andrews, pediatrician, and Dr. Randall Wiener, child psychologist.
"That's VEE-ner," he was corrected. "I hate to sound pedantic about it, but if I don't use the original German pronunciation, I end up with my patients in giggles about being seen by a Randy Wiener." Dr. Wiener grinned.
"I've done Kyle-type mental scans of both men," Peter went on, "and they passed with flying colors. But since they'll be officially working under you...." He let the thought go unfinished.
After a series of probing questions satisfied FYS's Medical and Mental Health directors of their competence and commitment, Peter returned them to New Jersey, with instructions to meet him at ten of five, when he would jump them to Ewa Beach on Sunday.
Two rejections marred the day for him. Jacquie left the employment office unhired and dejected. She'd hoped for a job. As she crossed the lobby heading for the door, she glared at the poor woman with two kids, checking in to see if there were any work she could do. Why some people had to bring their kids everywhere! She was certainly glad she wasn't burdened by any kids! She wondered if she'd ever find out why she hadn't made Mr. Lambert's cut as she drove away.
The other was ... worse. A prospective maintenance man was enthusiastic about moving to Hawai'i to work at a place caring for kids. Peter ended the interview abruptly, however.
As the man left, he pulled a phone book out of the desk, and looked up the local police department. "This is Peter Lambert of Clan Short of Vulcan," he said abruptly. "A telepathic scan using Vulcan witness techniques was just conducted on Norbert Henrichson, of 280 Hobart Street, Apartment #5. Please use this information to get a search warrant. You will find child pornography in his computer room and bedroom, including footage of his sessions with his neighbor's 11-year-old son. Thank you." He hung up, with an angry expression on his normally-happy face.
Promptly at 4:50 he began transporting people to Ewa Beach, on Saturday evening and Sunday. He maintained a list of addresses, and when he was done, he contacted Terra Main with a request to transport the personal possessions of all his hires to the apartment buildings he had put into place.
Then he bopped back to Ewa Beach himself, and plopped down on Maureen's lap, collecting a hug from his new mommy. "Busy day?" she asked him.
"Yeah, kinda," he said with a grin.
"Tommy" was nervous. The young Deputy Thomas had been dispatched up to the Freeman Township to investigate a report of an alleged Bigfoot sighting. He and Dep. Randall, who had sent him, both thought it was probably kids trying to pull off an early Hallowe'en prank. But the North Woods did have their legends....
"Spotted it nosin' around the barn," the old man trying to wrest a living from the hilly country had said. "Went to git my shotgun; when I came back, it was headed for the woods, with one of my chickens in its paws. Nigh onta seven feet tall, and hairy all over. I tell ye, it was one of them there Bigfoots like they showed on the Discovery Channel."
Privately, Tommy discounted the greater part of what the man had said, but he kept what he hoped was a professional demeanor, and wrote down the description.
"It looked to be takin' the trail up past the old Kirby place when it went out of sight in the trees," the man had said. So Tommy had driven on up the back road to the abandoned farmstead, pulled in, and reconnoitered.
Somebody... or something... had been there, all right. The leaf-mould on the porch had been disturbed. Tommy walked in. Somebody had been there, for sure. The pump at the kitchen sink had been primed, was in fact dripping slowly. There had been a fire in the fireplace. What had apparently once been an upholstered loveseat was dragged over by it; scuff marks could be seen in the dirt on the floor. Service weapon unbuckled and ready to draw, Tommy searched the rest of the old farmhouse, with no further clues.
The back door had seen recent use. Tommy looked out it. The trail the old man had mentioned ran off to the left, and another one went into the woods angling slightly right of directly back away from the road.
Tommy returned to his vehicle, and got out the shotgun it was equipped with. He still suspected kids, but better to be sure than to be caught out with inadequate firepower.
Carefully, trying to check in all directions, he took the trail to the right, shotgun in hand. The woods grew thick. Large pines cut off most of the sunlight, giving the effect of a twilight gloom even though it was morning. Here and there birches, their leaves fallen, were white skeletons silhouetted against the dark green of the pines. The forest floor was covered in a mast of decaying pine-needle straw mixed with a small amount of brown and disintegrating birch and maple leaves; here and there a fern or a now-leafless small bush dotted the ground. It was eerily silent; this late in the year, any birds that migrated had left for the South, and the others and any small animals were busy preparing for the coming winter, not out and about.
Tommy moved cautiously down the trail. Twice noises made him start. Once it was a foraging chipmunk; the other time, nothing was visible where the noise had come from. He resolved not to be so jumpy.
The third time, he heard a noise behind him and spun around, reaching for his service revolver, which... wasn't there. He saw something large and furry moving behind a big pine, and, now thoroughly spooked, moved to investigate.
What he saw made him wonder if there was anything to the Bigfoot legends. It stood about five feet tall, much more slender than Logan the wolverine, shaped much like one of the ferrets though larger and heavier. It had a long torso, legs and arms not out of place on a human though slightly on the short side for its size, covered all over in reddish-brown fur, slightly lighter on the chest and belly than elsewhere. A white blaze covered the top of its breastbone. Its head looked fairly human, narrow with a slight muzzle.
The most interesting thing about it to Tommy, however, was that it had his service weapon and was standing, aiming it at him, in a close approximation of a marksman's stance. "If I wanted to shoot you," it said, "you'd be dead now."