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Virtual Season I Episode 19 "Battle Lines and Bloodlines"
Mara shifted uncomfortably under Lana's scrutiny. The other Vardian was in a fine temper, even by her normally volatile standards, and her assistant could not be entirely sure that she would not simply chose to kill the messenger. "What is our guest's name?" Lana asked quietly, pacing her office like a panther on the prowl. "Magan, Doctor, a Dessarian." "Chemist, isn't he?" Lana asked. "He is, ma'am." Mara nodded faintly. "He was serving under Stashia in Johannesburg," she supplied, knowing that Lana already knew it because Lana always knew precisely where every one of Zin's people on the planet was and what they were doing at a given time. Mara had to look these things up. Lana just knew. "He was among the Faithful." She stared out the window, scowling into the darkness. Nothing could ever be easy... "He's been searched thoroughly? Have him brought to me." "It will be done, Doctor." Mara inclined her head courteously and backed out of the office. "Such a tangled web," Lana sighed, shaking her head. The Dessarian had been apprehended attempting to break into her private apartment. The poison confiscated from him had been painstakingly designed and undeniably keyed specifically to Lana's genetic and health histories. But he was also, undeniably loyal to Zin's cause. Stashia, too, was not actively opposed to Lana. In fact, their interactions in the past had always been very cordial and productive for both. The whole situation reeked of Haag's influence, but Stashia was well known for his opposition to the Orsusian and would never have given Magan over to him willingly. Which meant something else was going on... The Vardian sighed softy, not even looking up as two guards escorted their prisoner in. Not turning from the window, she examined the Dessarian's reflection in the glass. He looked haggard but was, by her order, physically unharmed and not wearing restraints. She had plans for him and it would not do to abuse him unduly in the meantime. Before ANY plan could be carried out, though, she would need to question him. Without turning, she told the guards, "You may wait outside." "But, Doctor," one began, concern obvious in his voice. "Magan will not harm me, Kria," she informed him mildly. "You may go." She waited until both were gone before turning to face the Dessarian. "Magan, WHY?" she asked softly, shaking her head. "I know you to be among the Faithful, so why would you try to kill me when I am on the threshold of liberating Doctor Zin from His captivity?" "Doctor, I swear, it wasn't... I would never try to--" He trailed off as Lana, without taking a step towards him or even moving a muscle, casually cut off his air supply. "I know the poison was meant for me," she told him gently, approaching. "I'm not angry with you, Magan. I just want to know WHY?" Reaching up, she patted his cheek, releasing her telekinetic choke-hold. "Why don't you sit down and tell me everything?" "Doctor, I... please!" He shook his head frantically. "I didn't have a choice!" "No, Haag never was a man to give people choices, was he? Sit and tell me," she said, keeping her tone gentle and gesturing towards the most comfortable armchair in the office. Instead of sitting, the Dessarian began pacing. "He has Jerallan!" Lana blinked. "Your wife?" she said, her mind rapidly processing the implications of this news. "Yes." Megan nodded in defeat, his shoulders sagging. Even his nervousness left him in the wake of his physical and emotional exhaustion. "He said that I could chose between your life or hers. He gave me three days..." "Did he?" Lana asked, affecting concern. A plan crystallized in her mind. She could take care of Haag and earn Zin a valuable new disciple in one fell swoop. "And how much longer does this leave us?" she inquired, emphasizing the 'us'. "Just over twenty-four hours..." "When did you last sleep?" she asked abruptly. "Before Haag took Jerallan... I had to work quickly to produce the poison." "Of course you did. And a clever piece of chemical engineering it was. I stand impressed." Lana smiled gently up at him. "I assume you remain loyal to Zin, Doctor Magan?" "Yes! Always!" "And you understand that, under the present circumstances, loyalty to Doctor Zin translates directly into loyalty to me?" "Of course, but... Jerallan." He dropped to his knees in front of her, bowing his head. "Please, kill me now. I can't live with the knowledge that I have failed her." "Nor shall you have to," Lana said mildly, slipping to her own knees and gently forcing his chin up. "Look at me, Magan, and understand that your crime, while great, does not put you beyond redemption. Loyalty to Doctor Zin has many rewards and while His wrath may be mighty, His capacity for forgiveness is no less. I forgive you in His name, Magan, and will further do you a great service in token of His clement nature." "I... I don't understand." "Jerallan will not be taken from you, Magan. I will personally see to it that she is safely liberated from Haag and returned to your arms." "Your mercy is without bounds... I will do anything to redeem myself in your sight." Lana smiled faintly, well pleased. "It is not Lana you must aspire to serve, Magan, but Doctor Zin. I am only His humble servant. When He arises from the ashes, it will be His glory in which we shall be privileged to bask. The Faithful will be rewarded beyond measure and Doctor Zin will take His rightful position at the head of the Migar Alliance. He WILL save our people." "Of course, Doctor." Magan bowed his head. "What must I do to redeem myself in His eyes?" he amended. Lana's smile grew, but she schooled her features into a grave expression before Magan could see. "Simply accept me as Doctor Zin's prophet." "You are!" he said immediately, prostrating himself on the ground before her. "You have always been! You are His most faithful servant..." "Yes, I am. And in His name, I order you to return to London. Once there you will be given further instructions." She rested her hand lightly on the back of his exposed neck, picturing with satisfaction how easily she could break it. "I am going to have you brought to a guestroom now and I want you to rest yourself. Jerallan will be free by the time your flight leaves tomorrow and you will be reunited with her in London." "Thank you! Thank you, Doctor Lana. There are not words to express my gratitude." Smiling serenely, Lana inclined her head slightly. "All in His name, Magan. ALL in His name..." END TEASER The courthouse was crowded enough that no one spared Vic a second glance, not even as he turned off of a main hallway and ducked past a sign indicating that the area was being renovated and should only be entered by authorized personnel. He rounded a corner in time to see a suited figure disappear into a vacant courtroom. Glancing around cautiously, he followed. "We have to stop meeting like this, Gabe," he noted in an amused tone as the door swung shut behind him, leaving them in almost complete darkness. It was almost cozy. Or, would have been under other circumstances. "I'll happily end this association any time, Victor," she answered grimly. "Gabriella, that isn't fair." He shook his head. "You KNOW that this is important." "Yeah, I know." She sighed faintly, drawing him into the shadows and sliding a large manila envelope between them. "But knowing doesn't change the fact that we could both spend the rest of our lives in prison if this gets out." "There's more at stake here and you know it," Vic told her, tucking the package into his jacket. Agent Gabriella Hess sighed in defeat, nodding. "Global crime syndicates," she snorted. "I knew I should have stayed in the army instead of joining Interpol." "Hey, what's going on, Gabe?" Vic asked gently. "You seem down." "It's... nothing. Personal demons." "Want to talk about it?" he offered, dropping onto one of the courtroom's benches and glancing up at her. "It's nothing important." She shook her head but still sat down next to him. "Israelis are just very sensitive about some things." Vic raised an eyebrow. "Such as?" "Such as the fact that this Lana woman seems to be trying to turn her little crime syndicate into a religious cult. The tape you have in your hands... it's like a cross between a tent-Revival and a Nazi party rally." Vic winced. Personal demons... Three of Gabe Hess' four grandparents had died in Nazi concentration-camps, along with too many aunts and uncles to count. He slid a sympathetic arm around her shoulder, squeezing her shoulder. In spite of the fact that she seldom welcomed physical contact, she smiled gratefully at him. "Religious fanaticism is the most dangerous form of insanity. Napoleon of all people coined that one." "Yeah? He had a point." Vic nodded. "Lana's a nut-job, Gabe. Don't let her get you down." She smiled and nodded faintly. "Thanks, Victor. You're right." "Occasionally." He paused for a long moment before speaking again. "Hey, you... you want to get together some time? Without violating any federal laws?" She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Do you know a bar called Malley's?" "On Third, right?" "Yeah," he said, grinning. "Good. I'll see you around eight." She rose and left the room. Vic smiled after her as she left, startled by how nice it felt to just think of spending a casual evening with a woman. No aliens, no criminal investigations, no criminal ACTIVITIES, just a man and a woman. And Gabriella was one hell of a woman in addition to being a great investigator and an absolute genius. He rose after an appropriate interval, nodding to himself and glancing at his watch as he reemerged into the hallway. He had just finished testifying on a case and his shift was technically over, which gave him time to go home, listen to the tape, look at whatever else Gabe had for him, bring it to Cole, and still be at Malley's with time to spare. Humming to himself, he left the courthouse. *** "Here you go, Mark," Jess said, dumping several volumes onto the table. Mark Porter glanced up at her over the pile of books he was inured behind, smiling. "Thanks, Jessica." "So, any luck?" she asked, grabbing a chair and moving to sit next to him. The library was almost empty, but they still kept conversation to a whisper. He sighed and shook his head. "Christian Harrison. Guardian, Keyholder. Lived in London until the second World War. After that, there's absolutely nothing on him." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "He just vanishes into the ether." "That's too bad. You were really hopeful about finding some of his descendants, weren't you?" Mark nodded. "Yeah. That's the bloodline I've had the most luck tracking. A lot of the other ones just don't have ample documentation." With a frustrated growl, he abruptly slammed the book before him shut, making Jess jump. "And obviously neither does this one! I'll NEVER find the others!" he snapped, rising. "Dads, that's not fair," Kate said, emerging from between a row of bookshelves, heavily laden with books. She deposited them on an empty table and frowned sadly at her father. "The man just vanishes! Hell, he probably got killed in the Blitz." "Or maybe he did what you did," Kate suggested. "Maybe he just went into hiding." "It IS possible, Mark," Jess agreed, nodding. "After all, there's no death certificate..." "Yeah, but even if he did go into hiding, how am I supposed to FIND him?" Mark demanded, frustration coloring his tone. "Maybe you should call it a day, Mark," Jess suggested gently, rising and approaching him. The poor man looked near tears, frustrated and exhausted. "We've been here a long time already today. We're all tired. Maybe we should just start fresh tomorrow." "What's the point?" he asked, shaking his head. "If he exists, he obviously doesn't want to be found." "Or maybe he's just waiting for the time to be right, like you did," Kate said quietly, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Dads, take a break. You've been searching out the lost bloodlines for YEARS. A day or two off won't make a difference and would do you well besides." "Maybe," Mark agreed with a sigh. "Why don't I take my girls out for ice-cream?" "That sounds great," Jess said, as much to get him out of the library as because she was in the mood for ice-cream. Mark was constantly bringing them out for ice-cream and other sweets. His Cirronian metabolism simply demanded sugar. Mark nodded, wiping his hands on his slacks and staring down at the pile of books on the table for a long moment. Shaking his head, he turned his back on them and offered one arm each to Kate and Jess. Grinning, they accepted and walked from the library with him. *** "He shall be as the phoenix of the Greek mythos, arising from the ashes of his perceived defeat in full glory!" Lana's voice filtered over the speaker, her tone loud and strident, murmurs of agreement and the occasional cheer audible in the background. "And the faithful shall be gratified beyond expectation, for loyalty to Him has MANY rewards!" "Turn it off, Vic," Mel pled, shaking her head. Cole was pale, his hands clenched into fists. As unsettling as she found the words and tones, it was obvious that Cole found them far worse. Vic had been right. It WAS worse than listening to a Nazi rally. "No," Cole interrupted as Vic reached to turn down the volume. "Wait..." "The unfaithful will be swept from the face of this planet and all others!" Lana's voice continued. To the surprise of Mel and Vic, Cole quietly chimed in, reciting along with Lana as she spoke. "And His power will be magnified a thousand-fold, and Generals shall quake and tremble in the face of His might, and Kings be struck down." Mel and Vic stared at Cole with wide eyes. He did not even seem to notice them. "And that which has been shall be no more," the Cirronian
and Vardian intoned in unison. "And a new Order arise in its place.
He will make queens of courtesans and courtesans of queens and the streets
will run as rivers with the blood of the heretics and the unfaithful..." "You know the words?" Mel asked after a moment's uneasy silence. He nodded faintly. "It's from the Book of Vartan, an ancient Vardian Messianic prophecy," he explained simply. "Lana is trying to make a god of Zin." "And people are buying into it?" Vic demanded, incredulous. "There are those who will. The fugitives owe much to Zin already. If he still lives, if Lana can produce him, prove that he has survived a year in the Vault, it WILL lend credence to her claims." Cole shook his head. "She is charismatic and intelligent. She will chose carefully those whom she preaches this doctrine to. In time, more may allow themselves to believe..." "That is... sick," Mel muttered, shaking her head. "Who'd worship Zin?" "Who would worship your planet's Satan? It is distasteful but, still, people do. And so too some will worship Zin in exchange for the proper rewards." "Loyalty to him has MANY rewards," Mel whispered, repeating Lana. "How long do you think she's been planning this?" "I do not know." Cole shook his head. "But I know enough of her and her record to know that she will proceed with caution and do nothing in haste." He looked up at Vic. "Is there more? Has she had similar meetings to these?" "Uh... Not that I know of, but I'll ask around, see what I can dig up..." "It is appreciated," Cole assured him. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" Mel offered. Spending time alone with Cole these days was something she did her best to avoid. It was just too awkward. "I'd love to, but I have a meeting." Vic glanced at his watch. "In fact, if I don't run now, I'll be late." "Good bye, Vic. Thank you for the tape and phone records." "Yeah. You two take care." He turned to go, but paused. "You guys holding up okay?" "Yeah. Just tired from that... whatever it was," Mel assured him. "Dwenyah Ordí," Cole supplied softly. "It can take several weeks to fully recover one's strength after an overdose." And even longer to recover from the psychological effects... "Okay. You have my cell. Call if you need anything." Smiling at the two, Vic turned and left, leaving Mel and Cole alone in the apartment. "So, uh... dinner," Mel began uneasily, ducking into the kitchen and avoiding Cole's eyes. The Cirronian sighed at her obvious attempts at avoidance. "I can not, Mel. I have much work to do." "Uh... okay." She nodded faintly. "I'll... see you later, then." "Yes, Mel," he agreed quietly, turning and walking to his war-room. When he reached it, he simply stared at the computer screens, not absorbing the scrolling data. It was like that more and more lately. Tracking had started to take on a secondary importance in his life compared to Mel. More so since they had shared the same glorious set of hallucinations and, for a few beautiful days, been able to forget all the evils of the universe, mindful only of each other. Regret over the loss of that bliss vied with guilt for feeling regretful at all and hurt over the way Mel had been avoiding him since. In the face of all those conflicting emotions, he was simply too confused to work, or do much else. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to meditate instead.
Gabe was not hard to pick out in the crowded Pub. She was the only one drinking wine instead of beer. And she was the only one who did not look like she was having a good time. Vic only stopped long enough to order a mug of beer, then weaved his way through the crowd to her. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, sitting next to her. He immediately wondered if he should have sat across the booth from her instead, but she gave no indication that she minded his proximity, so he stayed put. She looked up from her drink slowly, regarding him searchingly for a long moment before speaking. "I am... I'm about as cheerful as you look." She shrugged and sipped at her wine. "I take it you listened to the tape?" "Yeah. Not sure what to make of it yet, but my friend's on it." "Good for him." "Gabe, ARE you okay?" Vic asked again, frowning. "Just thinking of all the things we stand to lose by doing what
we're doing here." She frowned and took another sip of her wine. "This comes out, Victor, and the U.S. labels you a traitor. You could spend the rest of your life in prison." "Yeah." He shrugged and nodded. "But considering what's at stake..." She ignored him and kept talking. "Me, I have dual citizenship. The U.S. and Israel can BOTH declare me a spy AND a traitor..." Vic winced. He had not quite looked at it that way, but she was perfectly right. "If you want out, I understand, Gabe. I should never have sucked you into this in the first place." "Maybe." She shrugged. "But as far as I can tell, we are both way past the point of no return. So tell me it's worth it," she whispered, almost pleading with him. "It is, Gabe," he assured her fervently. "This goes way deeper than the kind of religious and political infighting you're used to in the Middle East. More's at stake than one country or religion. The entire human race is being threatened here..." "You sound like a bad science fiction movie," she muttered, draining her glass. Shaking her head, she added, "But I believe you in spite of it. Or maybe BECAUSE of it." She shrugged. "I don't know and I'm not sure it matters." "What does matter, Gabe?" he asked gently, resting one hand on her shoulder.
Startled by Gabe's unusually demonstrative behavior, Vic stared down at her with wide eyes for a long moment before cautiously wrapping his arms around her. She opened her eyes for a moment, giving him a faint nod before closing her eyes again and sliding closer. *** "Feeling better this morning, Mark?" Jess asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. As always, Mark was up early, making breakfast for 'his girls'. She was starting to find it almost a shame that he viewed her as no different than Mel or Kate, because she could see why the girls' mothers had fallen in love with him. Sweet, quiet, kind, protective, gentle, ATTRACTIVE... Stop it, Jess, she chided herself mentally. "Much better, Jessica." He smiled at her and absently handed her the sugar-bowl. "I think I just needed an afternoon out of that library. Sometimes we get so into a project that we just need to take a step back and start fresh." Insightful, she added to her mental list, before schooling herself against that line of thought. Best friends' FATHER, Jess... She grinned and nodded, pouring him a cup of coffee as well. "You know, you remind me a lot of your mother," she told him. "Yeah?" He grinned shyly, shrugging. "People used to tell me that, but I never saw it..." "Sometimes we need to take a step back," she pointed out wisely. Mark laughed and shook his head. "Smartass. Why don't you go wake up Kate?" he suggested. "Breakfast's almost done." She nodded and saluted, placing her coffee on the counter and going to wake Kate. Kate's first question as they started breakfast was, not unpredictably, "So, we going back to the library today?" "Today is MONDAY, Kate," Mark reminded her, pointing his fork at her and fixing her with a stern glance. "You have exams this week and I won't have you skiving off." Kate pretended to pout, but did not argue. He was right. With exams starting, she needed to focus on school, not on aliens and human Guardians, be they Gatekeepers or Keyholders. Mark ignored her. "I, however, AM going back to the library today for a few hours. Then I plan on spending the afternoon with Jay. Where the public record can not find a missing person, a lawyer or a private investigator might still. I am blessed to still know trustworthy members of BOTH disciplines in abundance." "Going to need more help in the library?" Jess offered. "Don't you have a shift today?" "Just in the morning. My afternoon's wide open..." "Hey, if you don't mind, I can always use an extra pair of hands and eyes." "And I can meet you after my exam," Kate said. "Study first," Mark ordered gently. "THEN you can join us in solving all the problems of the universe..." He grinned at his daughter, knowing full well that she was far too mature and responsible to need the reminder, but still enjoying the opportunity to play the role of a father again. The Fates had been kind to him as of late and, in spite of his frustration over his inability to decisively trace any of the other Guardian lines, he was a happy man. "Deal," Kate laughed, nodding and rising. She gave Jess and Mark each a quick peck on the cheek, then grabbed her bag and jaunted from the apartment, humming to herself. "That one," Mark murmured, smiling and shaking his head. "What about her?" Jess asked absently, clearing away her dishes and Kate's. Mark, with his prodigious appetite, a trait of all Cirronians he claimed, was still eating. "All that dedication. I don't think her grandmother or I had half that much at her age." He shook his head. "Must come by it through Dad," he concluded, nodding sagely. Jess laughed. "What?" Mark asked innocently, piling more pancakes onto his plate. "It's not my fault my own daughter is too Cirronian for her own good." "She's less Cirronian than you are," Jess pointed out. "So she is. You wouldn't know it to look at her, though." "No, I guess not." Jess shrugged. "She's definitely got less of Adelaide than you and Mel," she admitted. "But I still love her to death." "What is it with you and Porter women?" Mark teased. Never one to let teasing pass without responding in kind, Jess smiled sweetly at him and pointed out, "It's not just the Porter WOMEN anymore, Mark." Winking and smiling to herself, she left the stunned-looking man alone in the apartment to start her shift. Definitely Mel's father, that one. Almost TOO easy to tease... *** "You have Jerallan, Doctor Neko?" "I do, Doctor Lana. My people are getting her cleaned up now." "Wonderful. Magan is on his way to join you. In the meantime, you are to treat Jerallan with all the respect she is due as the wife of a first-rank chemist." "Of course, Doctor." "Make her comfortable and then impress upon her that she has no one but Doctor Zin to thank for her deliverance." "And how much of your recent teachings regarding the good Doctor shall I impart?" Neko inquired without any irony or scorn.
If Lana chose to call Zin god instead of savior, that was her business, and it would certainly have an impact on his less educated followers, Jerallan among them. All Neko had to know was that Zin could do what Lana said and that his followers would be rewarded well for their service to him. Nothing else was important. Lana chuckled in response to Neko's question. "The Truth will set us free, Neko. Tell Jerallan everything. Hell, give her a copy of the Book of Vartan." As one of the first on the planet, Lana had brought a copy of the text along for her own pleasure. When she had devised her plan to raise Zin to godhood, she had handsomely paid one of the human vanity-presses to run off several dozen translations, each of which had found its way into the hands of one of the faithful. "Proceed, of course, with caution, but do remind Jerallan most forcefully of the fate from which Zin's mercy has delivered her." "Of course, Doctor Lana. And when Magan arrives?" Aware that there was a good chance that the entire call was being recorded, Lana delivered her instructions in Vardian. "Ayjata thera ayjata, jya Neko." Blood will be repaid with blood; it was an ancient Vardian code of behavior stipulating that criminal offenses were to be repaid in kind. An eye for an eye, the humans might say. Or they might call it poetic justice. Either way, the message was clear enough to Neko. Haag had sent Magan to poison Lana and now Magan would be sent to poison Haag. It would at once remove Haag, prove Magan's loyalty, and serve as an example to anyone else who thought to move against Lana. "A wise decision, Doctor," Neko agreed mildly. "Zin would approve." "I am His most humble servant. Good day, Neko. Call me once you have spoken to Magan." "Of course, Doctor. May this day find you victorious over your foes," he intoned, using the ancient formula that Lana had begun to insist on. "And you over yours, Neko," Lana answered before breaking the connection. He looked up at a tap on his door. A runner entered, bowing courteously. "Sir, Jerallan is ready to see you." "Wonderful. Have her escorted in. Then send for food and drink for two and be on hand should she require anything else." "Yes, sir." He backed out, returning a few minutes later with Jerallan whom he ushered into the study. "You must be Jerallan," he greeted her, rising and smiling warmly at the Dessarian. She bore a cut lip and black eye from her struggle with Haag's extraction-squad, but Neko's people had cleaned her up, fixed her hair, and changed her into new, expensive clothes, making for an enormous improvement in her overall appearance. She was obviously nervous, so he took her arm and steered her towards a chair. "Please, be comfortable. Food will be here shortly. Your husband will be arriving in a few hours and we wouldn't want him to find you ill-fed." Her eyes widening slightly, she gave him a hesitant smile. By his order, she had not been told anything, about why Haag had taken her OR about why Neko's people had rescued her. Neko noted absently that she was absolutely beautiful when she smiled. "There's a good girl. Please, have a seat. Be comfortable. Doctor Lana would have my hide if I were less than courteous to you." "But, sir... I am less than no one..." "No longer, Jerallan." He smiled warmly at her, helping her into a chair. "Times change. I think you will find these changes to your taste," he added, sitting himself once she was comfortably settled. "Now, child, listen well. We have much to discuss." END ACT 2 Jason Andrews looked up as Mark Porter entered his office, his expression reflecting surprise that the man was not alone. He rose quickly, shaking his old partner's hand and glancing at the pretty young woman with him. "Mark, how are you?" "Fine, Jay. Fine. This is Jessica," he added, nodding towards her. "You'll remember her?" "Kate's roommate, of course!" He nodded immediately, warmly shaking her hand warmly as well. "Both Kate and Mark speak most highly of you," he informed her. "Yeah, well, Kate would speak kindly of ANY flat-mate over that Aunt of hers," Jess scoffed. Both men chuckled and Jay spread his hands wide, admitted the truth of her words. "Now, what can I do for... the two of you?" Jay asked, glancing significantly at Jess before returning his attention to Mark. "I need you to find someone for me," Mark answered, ignoring the look Jay had given Jess. She got that look a lot, and if it did not bother her, he supposed it should not bother him. Yet annoyingly enough, it still did. "Easy enough. What's the name?" "Uh... we're not sure," Mark admitted, sitting down and gesturing for Jess to do the same. "Well, that's going to complicate things a little, isn't it?" he asked cheerfully, undaunted. He was a man who loved a challenge. "Offer either of you a drink?" "Scotch please," Mark said. "Jessica?" "Oh, no thanks." Jess smiled but waved her hand to decline. "It's early still." "I have tea as well," Jay offered, pouring two glasses of scotch. "And brandy..." He poured a glass of the latter for Jess at her little nod. "Thanks," she said, accepting it. "Thanks, Jay," Mark agreed, sipping at his drink. "Ah, the good stuff!" "Only the best for my partner." "FORMER partner," Mark amended. "I'm in a different line these days." "Ah, so you must be." Jay nodded and settled down opposite them. "So, to business?" "Here's to it," Mark agreed, raising his glass in a mock-toast. "Like I said, Jay, I need you to find someone for me." "Right. What's the story?" "I... can't tell you," Mark apologized. "I just... need to find this person." "Ah, one of those." Jay nodded knowingly. "What do I have to work with?" "This." Mark slid a folder full of photocopies across the desk. "Christian Harrison. Vanishes during the Blitz. I need to find him or his descendants." "Any particular reason why?" Jay asked quietly, leafing through the material. "None that I'm at liberty to discuss, Jay. Sorry." "Huh." Jay shrugged. "Knowing you, I'm guessing it has to be pretty serious." "Incredibly serious." Mark nodded. "The public record on him just ends. I was hoping you and your connections might be able to get their hands on more information." "Time to turn to the not-so-public-record, is it?" Jay asked, nodding. "Yeah." Mark hesitated. "Just... one thing, Jay." "Sure, Mark." He nodded immediately. "Anyone you put on this... they need to be people you KNOW can be trusted. And I don't mean just people you trust to keep clients' secrets. These need to be people you can trust with my life or Kate's, because that IS what this gets down to..." "That sounds serious." He frowned faintly. "You in any trouble, Mark?" "Always." Mark grinned crookedly. "Nothing new there. This is just... sensitive, Jay." "I guess..." Jay sighed and nodded. "I'll put my daughter on it. There's no one she can't track down given enough time and information." "Lucy's good," Mark agreed. "But this one may even challenge her. These people may not WANT to be found." "Oh, one of those. So I guess she won't be able to fall back on the 'they have a payment coming' strategy?" "Not this time. They aren't in any trouble from this quarter, but they may be from others." "Others?" he repeated thoughtfully. It figured. "These 'others' wouldn't be affiliated with Zin industries, would they?" "Who isn't these days?" Mark asked bitterly, draining his glass. "Tell Lucy to be discreet and keep her head down," he advised. "This is important, but it's not worth her getting on the wrong side of Zin Industries, either." "Given what's come to light since Marguerite went into hiding, I wouldn't put her in THAT position if you asked me to." "I wouldn't." Mark rose and extended his hand across the desk. "Thank you, Jay. I appreciate everything you've done for me lately." "That's what friends are for. Just don't forget that you still owe me that explanation." "Trust me, you don't WANT it," Jess murmured. *** It did not take Neko long to see what Magan saw in his young bride. She may not have been particularly bright, but she was a sweet and unassuming girl, courteous, attentive, friendly, pretty, and overt in her gratitude at her deliverance from Haag's holding-cells. She listened in rapt silence as Neko explained to her why Haag had taken her in the first place, seeming horrified with the idea that Magan might oppose Lana and relieved with the news that he was being spared. "Whatever must I do to repay Doctor Lana's kindness?" she asked breathlessly. Neko smiled and shook his head faintly. "You misunderstand, Jerallan. Lana wants me to make it exceedingly clear to you that she acts in Doctor Zin's name alone, not for her own benefit. It is to He whom you owe your gratitude and no one else." Jerallan frowned uncertainly. "But... they say Doctor Zin is--" "Ah, I'm sure they do, my dear," Neko interrupted gently. "But THEY are not among the Faithful. Those of us who are know better. Zin is indeed interred far beneath the surface of this mud-ball, but his liberation is at hand and, when it comes, he will resume his place at the head of the Faithful." "Oh," she said softly, nodding in spite of her obvious confusion. Neko smiled indulgently. "Zin is no mere mortal, child," he explained gently. "He LIVES. Lana knows this and she exists only to spread this good news. Our liberation is at hand." "But... how can he still be alive?" she asked, perplexed. "There are whispers that he is a god," Neko admitted, looking reluctant to impart these 'rumors'. Rumors all carefully started and spread by Lana and her closest confederates, exactly as Neko was doing now. Jerallan's eyes widened. "If he still lives, he MUST be," she announced, nodding with conviction. "But... why have we not heard this before?" she asked slowly, her face clouding as she tried to make sense of the matter. Neko was of the considered opinion that such a pretty face should NOT be marred by such effort. He lightly caught her hand, diverting her attention. "All by design, Jerallan, I assure you. Lana is of the opinion that if this news were public, ALL would flock to serve. This way the unfaithful may be more readily culled. Only the Faithful are privileged to hear what I have just imparted on you." "I am honored," she whispered, sliding from her chair and kneeling before him. Neko smiled and shook his head, resting one hand lightly on the back of her neck. In spite of her inferior breeding, Lana was good, he had to give her that. "Magan is not yet privy to the Truth, Jerallan. There was no time for Lana to explain adequately before she sent him back to reunite with you. When he arrives, I will explain everything to him. And you, child... you must help him understand." "Of course." She nodded quickly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Oh, we are truly honored!" "Yes." Neko nodded and took her hands, helping her back into her seat. "Now, I want you to eat and rest." "If you wish it, sir," she agreed, bowing her head. "More than that, LANA wishes it. She wants you in good health and spirit for your reunion with Magan." He nodded towards the tray of food that had just been delivered. "Help yourself," he directed. "Now, I have a little work I must get done now, but you simply ask if you require anything at all and I will be glad to provide it. Would you like something to read while you await Magan?" "If it's not too much trouble..." He smiled and shook his head, pulling a book down from a high shelf. "You may find this one most instructive," he suggested, handing it to her. "The book of Vartan?" she read the title, regarding him blankly. "Yes. It was written some ten thousand years ago. I do believe Doctor Lana reads it every night before bed," he added, turning and walking to his desk. When he looked up from his paperwork a few minutes later, it was to find Jerallan immersed in the book, her meal forgotten, her expression one of profound awe. He smiled and nodded to himself. Lana would be well pleased. Another disciple had seen the light... END ACT 3 "Thanks, Jay. Tell her to keep up the good work." Smiling, Mark hung up the phone. His smile widened when he realized that Kate and Jess had stopped what they were doing and were regarding him expectantly. Kate had been planning on going to a movie with her friend, canceling it the minute Lucy had called. She and Jess had been pretending not to try to overhear him ever since. "Well, Lucy may be on to something, ladies," he told them, dropping onto the couch between them. "She's proceeding with caution, but she thinks she has a line on where Harrison got to during the Blitz. She'll have more for me in the morning." "Is she safe?" Kate asked, frowning faintly. Lucy Andrews was a sweet young woman, and definitely formidable, but no match for Zin's people, either. "Yeah. Jay and I warned her about who else might be interested in hunting him down. The cover is that an American cousin is trying to track down family who vanished during the War." "Wow," Jess said softly. "It's even almost true." Kate laughed and shook her head. "She's right, Dads. It almost is." "Almost," Mark allowed, shrugging. "But far enough from the WHOLE truth to keep her OR anyone she finds from coming to attention from the wrong quarter. Lucy tracks down lost relatives every day; nothing unusual in that." "Good cover, then." "A lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths," Mark pointed out, rising again. "So, what are my girls having for dinner?" he asked. "How about something shamefully unhealthy," Kate suggested. "How about something healthy and tasteless?" Mark countered, grinning. "You're as big a killjoy as Mel." "And you, my dear, are your grandmother's granddaughter, through and through." Jess grinned as she watched the two carry the cheerful banter into the kitchen. Having those two around was like having a family again. Her mother, orphaned at a young age, had always told her that there was nothing quite as important as family, whether it was the family you were born into or the one that picked you as special out of a crowd and made you their own. In that sense, the Porters were as much her family as the Browns had been. The Porters had been there when Jess had most needed a family of her own, after her mother's death and her father's decline, when she had been nobody and nothing. More and more lately, especially after Mel and Cole's visit, she wondered if he was still alive and, if he was, whether she would still be welcomed in his life. She no longer needed, or particularly WANTED a father, but it would have been nice to know her last living blood relative, if only to make her peace with him. She rose quickly, before she could change her mind, making sure that Mark and Kate were still occupied in the kitchen and leafing through the phone book. It was obscenely easy to find the right listing. Brown, Richard C. He had not even moved... Closing the phone-book, Jess walked quickly into her bedroom, wondering what to do now. It would be so easy to pick up the phone or step into a cab. Would it be as easy to forget the years of neglect and abuse? she wondered, dropping onto her bed. A woman should know her father, that was what Cole had said, but could it really be as easy as that? Did she really have another choice than to try? Realistically, he could not have much time left, not at his age and with his drinking habits. Assuming he still drank... Why had he not bothered to try to find her? Or had he? "Jessica? Kate decided she was going to go out with Lydia after all, so... Are you okay?" Mark asked, frowning in concern at her troubled, conflicted expression. "Yeah." She nodded faintly. "Just thinking." "Would you like to talk about it?" he offered, sitting next to her. "I... looked up my father in the phone-book," she said, bowing her head. "It's just... I don't know if I'm ready to see him." "Why not, sweetheart?" he asked gently, sliding an arm around her shoulder. Jess pulled away, abruptly resentful. "Stop treating me like a kid!" she snapped, scowling at him. "I haven't been one of those since I was twelve!" "That's when your mother died?" Mark asked, ignoring her abrupt shift in mood. It was borne of confusion, not anger. "Yeah. Mum died, Dad started drinking..." She shook her head, rising and looking anywhere but at him, embarrassed and ashamed at having snapped at him after he had been so good to her. "You were sixteen when you left? What's that make it? Eight years more or less?" "Yeah." Jess nodded faintly. "And now you're wondering if you can make those years go away." Mark nodded and rose, stepping in front of her and gently catching her shoulder when she tried to turn. "Hey, I'm a good one for advice on these things," he pointed out gently. "Remember, I lost a couple of years with my daughter, too." "Yeah." Jess nodded weakly. "Guess you did. So, DAD, what's the verdict?" "You can't make those lost years so they don't exist, Jess. It would be folly to try to. But you CAN build a new, DIFFERENT relationship with your father." Mark shrugged and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "This is a decision you have to make for yourself, Jess. I wish I could make things easier on you by making it for you, but this has to be your call." "I was afraid you were going to say that," she admitted wryly. "Nothing can ever be easy, can it?" "Unfortunately not." He shook his head apologetically. "But you're a brave woman, Jess." Jess blinked. "You just called me a woman." "So?" "Just the first time you have," she said, shrugging. "I'm usually one of the girls when you talk about me." "Are you?" Mark blinked, thinking. "Huh, guess you are at that... Well, I do have a daughter older than you, so forgive a flawed old man for being one." "Now that sounded suspiciously like advice," Jess told him, grinning. He smiled faintly. "Some of the best pieces of advice out there are universal, Jessica. Here's another one: follow your heart." "Thanks," Jess said, stepping around him and kissing him on the cheek as she left the room. "I don't know when I'll be back..." "Take your cell-phone. Call me if you need a ride or a lawyer." Jess spun around, grinning at him. "Well, I hope it won't come to THAT..." "Expect the best, be prepared for the worst," he intoned gravely, tossing her the phone. "I'll wait up for you." "Oh, you don't have to--" "I want to. Now go!" he ordered, smiling as he watched her hurry from the apartment. Shaking his head, he left her room and walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch and meditating. Things were finally, amazingly, starting to go right for everyone. *** "Jerallan!" Magan gasped, hurrying into the study when he saw her sitting there, not even looking at Neko. "Oh, my love. Are you injured?" "Nothing that will not heal itself with time and rest," she assured him, smiling. "It pleases me to see you well, Magan." Bowing her head, she added, "Especially after..." "I know, I know." He bowed his head. "It was foolish of me." "You can yet redeem yourself in His eyes," she told him reassuringly. "Doctor Neko promised." Magan's head shot up. He could sense a catch coming. "How?" he asked quietly. "Doctor Neko will tell you. He says that it's not a young woman's business." "Oh." Magan nodded slowly and glanced up at Neko. "Indeed not. Adult business matters are for adults. Jerallan, charming though she may be, is young yet. It would not do to trouble her unduly with things which should not concern her." He smiled warmly at the pretty young Dessarian. "In time, I am sure she will be quite useful to us, but that time may yet be some way off." He approached and patted Jerallan on the shoulder. "Why don't you run along now, child?" he suggested gently. "Make your quarters ready for your husband's return. I promise not to detain him long. If you need anything, you remember who to ask?" "Yes, sir. I should talk to Shara or Dauni when you are not available," Jerallan recited. She nodded and scuttled from the room, smiling over her shoulder at Magan. "Engaging creature," Neko observed, smiling and dropping into the chair she had vacated. "Have a seat, Magan. I will not keep you long from her company," he added, gesturing towards the other chair. Magan sat slowly, his expression troubled. "What price her life?" he whispered. Neko raised an eyebrow, amused. Magan was no Jerallan, idealistic and simple-minded; he knew that there was a payment for every 'gift'. "What price would YOU set on such a commodity?" he inquired smoothly. "She told me that you were not the choice of her parents." He bowed his head. "I was not. Her parents believed that she could do better. They did not trust me." "And what of HER?" Neko asked. "Her trust in me is absolute." "Care to keep it that way?" Magan raised his head slowly. "She is my only weakness," he confessed. Neko did not allow himself to react to Magan's words. They were true and Lana and Stashia had both known it. Jerallan was more or less useless to the Cause, but she had always been a convenient means of keeping Magan compliant. "Haag must be made to pay for his presumption in opposing Doctor Zin. Doctor Lana is of believes that YOU should be the means of reprisal, after the old Vardian fashion." "Blood repays itself in blood," Magan murmured, nodding faintly. It was, in honesty, not as bad as he had thought it would be. Vardians had an appreciation of irony that had left him fearing for his life or Jerallan's: or possibly both. He had no love to spare for Haag and his removal would prove advantageous for him as well as Lana. And it would no doubt cement his place in dear Jerallan's heart for she would perceive it as vengeance for the wrongs done to her. "Lana sees advantages within the advantageous, doesn't she?" he asked Neko, not unimpressed with the stratagem. The Vardian smiled and nodded. "She is a clever woman given her birthright. She proves your loyalty at the same time as she offers up a reason for you to give it..." "And, at the same time, she wins Jerallan's loyalty." Magan shook his head, amused. "Well, the girl's loyalty is of little import," Neko lied, sure that Lana had other plans for her down the road. "Yet she makes you happy and it IS in Lana's interest to keep you so." "And ALL I must do is to kill Haag?" Magan pressed. Neko inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Preferably but not necessarily by your own hand. Poison would be nice," he added. "I think it would appeal greatly to Doctor Lana's sense of propriety." "I'm certain it would." he agreed, inclining his head. "It shall be done." "In accordance with Her will and that of Doctor Zin," Neko agreed, rising. "Now, go see your wife. If I were married to such a pretty creature, I would not wish to spend more than a few hours from her side." "Of course, sir." Magan rose and bowed his head. "And my thanks." "All in His name, Magan," Neko reminded him mildly. "All in His name," the Dessarian agreed, bowing low and backing deferentially from the room. END ACT 4 Neko looked up from the report he was reviewing, watching Jerallan anxiously pace the study. "Be calm, child," he advised gently, rising and joining her. He gently clasped her shoulders, forestalling her pacing. She stared up at him with wide eyes. "Will he be okay?" she whispered tearfully. "Have faith in your husband, dear Jerallan," Neko murmured, gently smoothing away her tears. "If his faith in Zin is adequate, he WILL triumph over Haag." "He... what if his faith falters?" she whispered in an anxious voice. "Does Magan lack faith, my dear?" Neko asked gently, steering her into a seat and crouching in front of her. "Is he not one of the Faithful?" "Of course. His loyalty to Zin is without question! But..." "He is a weak man, beset by doubts," Neko finished for her, his expression understanding. He nodded faintly. "We were not unaware." "What will happen to him?" she whispered. "What if..." "No record has yet been made of his vacillating tendencies, dear," Neko assured her. "And no record SHALL be made, come what may." Her eyes widened and she smiled tremulously at him. "What have we done to warrant such consideration?" she whispered. "You please us, Jerallan, Doctor Lana AND myself." He patted her knee gently, smiling tenderly up at the pretty girl and, not for the first time, considering that Magan's failure could have advantages of its own. "Magan's services to Zin have been great and they WILL be noted. If he fails, he will be recorded as the first to fall Martyr to Zin's cause. Either way, his name and contributions will be remembered..." He patted her knee again, rising. "Cast out fear, Jerallan. Your contribution to the Cause will not be forgotten either." "I am grateful," she whispered, bowing her head. "Good child." He smiled warmly, lightly playing his fingertips up and down her cheek. "All is in His name," he reminded her, letting his hand slide from her face to her throat, absently tracing the line of her collar. "Take comfort in the knowledge, Jerallan, and rejoice." *** Jess stood outside of the apartment building long after the cab pulled away, staring up at the window that had once led to her bedroom. It had always been cheerfully decorated and warmly lit. Now it was dark and empty. Almost foreboding, really. Part of her wanted to turn and run and NEVER look back. Her mother had died in that apartment. Her father had spiraled into alcoholism there. And she... she had not grown into the woman her mother was trying to raise; that much was certain. Jessica Hopi Brown, simply Hope to her mother, had been meant to be strong, independent, never caring what others said or thought. Jessie had been her father's daughter, always in need of words of reassurance and acceptance, from ANY source. As to Jess... Jess was an utter wild-card. Strong certainly, but in need of love, too. Obliging, too, but more than capable of digging her heels in when she had to, for her own sake or that of a friend. As independent as her mother could have hoped, she was also more dependant on a handful of people than her father ever would have imagined a girl could be on strangers. Her mother might have approved of her bond to them as surrogate family, but her father had always detested people who could not take care of themselves. She turned, them hesitated. Could her father possibly accept the woman she had become? Even if he could move past her dependence on others, would he be as accepting of the life-style that had been hers until quite recently? Did it matter? 'You CAN'T make up for them, you can build something new.' Mark had told her when she had asked about all those lost years. Those words and 'forgive a flawed old man.' "Follow your heart," she murmured, repeating more of Mark's advice. Nodding to herself, she crossed the street to the apartment building, knocking on a door that she had scrambled through a thousand times after school, usually drawing a laughing protest from her father to the effect that she had not been born in a barn and should conduct herself accordingly. In later years, she had walked through that door sedately, her shoulders slumped and her reasons for living seemingly nothing in comparison to her reasons for giving up. That had been the norm until she had run away, sick of her father's drinking and more sick of her own sense of incompleteness. She shook that off as a relic of a past better forgotten and rapped more firmly on the door. "Coming, I'm coming. Don't knock the door down!" a tired voice called. She heard locks clattering and inhaled deeply, steeling herself. The urge to run was almost overwhelming, but she ignored it and waited stolidly. Her eyes widened faintly as he opened the door. Had he always been so old and tired-looking? He regarded her steadily, his expression uncertain. "Dad?" she whispered, taking a half-step forward. His eyes widened. "Jessie?" he whispered. At her slow nod, he let out an anxious bark of laughter. "Jessie!" he repeated more firmly, gathering her into his arms. "Oh, GOD," he moaned, burying his face in her hair. "Dad," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and willingly stepping into his embrace. "Oh, God, girl, look at you!" Shaking his head and drawing back, he examined her closely. "Oh, you must be freezing out here. Come in, girl. Come in!" Nodding shakily, Jess allowed her father to steer her inside. END TAG Return to the Watchfire Annexx
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