From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (5/25) Date: 01 Mar 1998 23:35:36 -0500 Perceptions (5/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Chapter Five By Michele R Mason Of the two young men seated on opposite sides of the=20 chessboard, only one looked up when Ami appeared in the=20 space where only a few moments before there had been empty=20 air. "Hello, Ami." Adam greeted her with a smile and a nod. "Hey Ami." Megabyte threw his hand in the air, giving her a=20 half-wave. He didn't look around or pull his eyes from the=20 chessboard. Biting his lip in concentration, the=20 American's hand hovered over various chess pieces as he=20 debated which to move. Ami dropped to her knees between her two fellow Tomorrow=20 People. "Who's winning?" Megabyte snorted. "As if you really have to ask?" "With a self-defeatist attitude like that, it's no wonder=20 Adam usually wins." Megabyte ignored her. Mumbling something unintelligible=20 under his breath, he moved his bishop. Ami gave the chessboard a cursory glance and cringed.=20 Megabyte had just handed the game to Adam. "Sorry, Megabyte." Adam offered his apology as he moved his=20 piece. "Checkmate." "I must be a glutton for punishment," the redhead grumbled. "Another game?" Adam offered. Megabyte rolled his eyes. "Right, Adam. Allow me to escape=20 with at least some of my dignity." He turned his attention=20 to Ami. "So, what are you doing here, anyway?" "Thanks, Megabyte." Ami gave him a slightly exasperated=20 shake of her head. "It's always a pleasure to know that I'm=20 welcome here." The boy paled, then turned a light shade of pink. "That's=20 not what I meant. I just meant that I thought you were=20 having lunch with your Mum." "We did have lunch. Now we're done." Ami settled back on=20 her haunches. "I did want to talk to you guys about=20 something though." The seriousness of her tone caught both of their attention. Adam nodded, giving her his full attention. "Sure, Ami.=20 What's the problem?" "I met this boy today--" Megabyte snickered. "Sorry, Ami. Shouldn't you gossip with=20 Jade?" "Megabyte, I'm serious. This is important." Adam gave their friend a dark glare. "Go on, Ami. Just=20 ignore Megabyte if he can't be serious for a few minutes." "He seems nice enough and all but=85there's something about=20 him. Something different." Adam shifted, his shoulders tensing slightly. "Different=20 how? You think he might be one of us?" "No," Ami shook her head, once again struggling to wrap her=20 mind around the elusive psychic signature she received from=20 Richie. "He's not a Tomorrow Person. I'm not sure what it=20 is, I mean, maybe it's nothing." "Or maybe it's something," Adam interjected. "If it has you=20 worried, it shouldn't be ignored." "I'm not really worried. It's just a little odd." Ami=20 paused. "I was wondering if you guys would mind meeting=20 him? Tell me if I'm totally nuts or if there's something=20 else about this guy." Megabyte raised an eyebrow. "Boy, have you got it bad." Ami fought back the wave of embarrassment that washed over=20 her. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yeah, right, Ami." Adam overrode Megabyte. "Sure, Ami. We'll be glad to meet=20 him. It should be interesting." "Yeah," Megabyte muttered. "Absolutely intriguing." End of Chapter Five _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (4/25) Date: 01 Mar 1998 23:33:55 -0500 Perceptions (4/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Chapter Four By Michele R Mason Somebody upstairs likes me, Richie thought with a bright=20 smile as he spotted Ami and her mother walking down the=20 busy London street.=20 After leaving the hotel, Richie headed straight back to=20 Cleopatra's Needle. Of course, as luck would have it, Ami=20 was gone. He waited, and waited, and when she didn't=20 return, he decided to stop for the day. He stopped at a=20 small caf=E9, grabbed lunch, and was strolling back to his=20 hotel when he spotted the young woman weaving through the=20 crowd across the street. He followed them at a discreet distance, wondering what he=20 would say to her if he received the opportunity to speak to=20 her. Somehow, "Hey, do you know why someone wants to kill=20 you?" didn't sound like one of the best openings for=20 broaching the subject. They wandered into a used bookstore, and Richie heard=20 opportunity knocking. Loudly. He found Ami in a far corner, browsing through a book of=20 Shakespeare's sonnets. "My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun," Richie quoted. Ami looked up, her eyes widening, startled by his sudden=20 appearance. She smiled, closing the book and placing it=20 back on the shelf. "Richie. Again." "Small world." Richie motioned toward the book, "You like=20 Shakespeare?" "I like literature." She gave him a long, curious stare.=20 "Are you following me?" "Don't believe in coincidence, huh?"=20 "Not three times consecutively. No." Her eyes narrowed=20 slowly, her expression becoming guarded. "What do you-- why=20 are you following me?" 'Because there's an Immortal who wants to kill you and I=20 want to know why,' didn't sound exactly like the=20 appropriate answer. Richie shrugged, feigning indifference,=20 and gave her a smile. "Would you believe that it's because=20 I want to have dinner with you?" It wasn't exactly a lie. Just an omission of the truth.=20 Actually having dinner with her was a very appealing idea.=20 More than appealing.=20 "Are you asking me out to dinner?" She seemed surprised by=20 this turn of events. It was hard for him to imagine that=20 invitations like this weren't the norm for her.=20 "Unless you have something against Americans." "Only the ones that follow me into bookstores," Ami shook=20 her head, long braids brushing her shoulders, and headed=20 further up the aisle. Richie noticed that she cast a=20 sideways glance back at him, and took that as an invitation=20 to follow. "Is that a yes or a no?" He fell into step behind her. The young woman spun to face him. "I don't even know you."=20 "That's why we have dinner. I get to know you. You get to=20 know me=85" "I -- I can't." Ami turned again, ready to head away, but=20 this time he was faster.=20 Richie slipped in front of her impeding her progress. "It's=20 the haircut, isn't it? You know, I told Mac that women just=20 don't like the haircut, and he told me I was wrong. He's my=20 best friend, and he lied to me. I can't believe it." Richie=20 leaned against the bookcase, doing his best to look=20 chagrined. "It's not the haircut." Richie straightened up, and looked down at himself. Wearing=20 a long leather jacket and faded jeans, he definitely was=20 not one of Calvin Klein's latest models. "The jacket? It's=20 the jacket isn't it? I can get rid of it--" Ami giggled, a smile appearing on her face. "It's not the=20 jacket." "It's not the haircut, or the jacket?" "No." Richie scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You just don't=20 like Americans?" "One of my best friends is American," Ami rolled her eyes=20 and shook her head. "You're good." "That means you'll have dinner with me?"=20 "I don't know you. You could be a crazy, psychotic serial=20 killer who--who-- chops his victims up and buries them in=20 the backyard." "Considering my backyard is an alley back in the States,=20 you don't really have to worry about that." "Are you always this insistent?" "Only when I see something I really want. And I really,=20 really want to have dinner with you." She folded her arms across her chest, staring at him.=20 Finally, she smiled. "Fine, but on one condition." "Anything?" "You don't follow me anymore." Richie smiled. To the victor go the spoils. "Consider it=20 done." End of Chapter Four _________________________________________________________________ "For me, Titanic was a slave ship taking me back to America in chains. Outwardly, I was everything a well brought up girl should be. But inside I was screaming." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (3/25) Date: 01 Mar 1998 23:32:13 -0500 Perceptions (3/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Chapter Three By Michele R Mason "So, now that we've managed to discuss everything under the sun from politics to philosophy, do you want to tell me who that young man was?" Ami Jackson lifted her dark eyes from her empty dessert plate and smiled brightly at her mother. "What young man, Mum?" "Don't you even try to get all cute with me, young lady." Her mother was not to be distracted. Of course, once her mother got an idea into her head, she didn't allow herself to be budged. With a heavy sigh, Ami tried to remind herself that her mother only badgered her so much because she worried about her. It didn't matter that Ami had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday, or that she knew Ami was capable of taking care of herself. In Sharon Jackson's eyes, Ami would always be her "baby girl" and would always need protection and guidance. The problem was that her mother couldn't protect her from everything. And most of the time, her mother couldn't provide the particular sort of guidance and advice that Ami needed. There had been a time in her life when her mother had been the sole source of both of those things, but that had all changed the day she met Adam Newman and Megabyte Damon. That had changed the day that Ami learned that she wasn't destined to be normal or live a normal life. They were The Tomorrow People, the next step in human evolution. She had met Adam and Megabyte when she began receiving clairvoyant impressions from their sick friend Kevin. Drawn into the puzzle and mystery of Kevin's illness, she had quickly come to learn that there was nothing normal about the tall Australian or the red-haired American. And that she was non-normal as they were. Their abilities to teleport, moving instantly from one place to another in the blinking of an eye, and their telepathic powers made them targets for any government agency or scientist who wanted to shove them in a lab and study them like rats. It also gave them a particular awareness of the world around them-- knowing and noticing things that the majority of the population would never know. And that the majority of the population was better off not knowing. That was what had attracted her to Richie at the airport. He was different. He felt different to her psychic awareness. With most people, there was only the faintest mental impression, or the occasional image or thought escaping them and coming to surface in her mind. It happened almost every day, and the Tomorrow People were used to it, calling it "background noise." But Richie's signature had been significantly different; it was stronger, more powerful, all the while being elusive. For a moment, she had thought that the blue-eyed strawberry blonde was one of them, but then she noticed the subtle fluctuations in his psychic aura. And she had never sensed anything like it before. Ami had all but forgotten about it when she ran into him on the steps in front of Cleopatra's Needle. She had the strangest feeling that Richie wasn't at all what he appeared to be. Ami didn't think that he was dangerous; she had some inner gut instinct that told her he wouldn't harm her or the Tomorrow People. But, running into him twice in the span of a few days couldn't be all coincidence. However, she couldn't explain any of that to her mother. Instead, she gave her mother the most reassuring smile that she could. "Mum, it's nothing. I told you, we bumped into each other and he was apologizing." "That was a rather lengthy apology, Ami." Sharon Jackson folded her arms across her chest. "This isn't some Tomorrow People business that you're hiding from me, is it?" Ami could never lie to her mother. She hated that. It would have been a handy talent to have when these conversations came up. "Yes, it is Tomorrow People business. But it isn't dangerous, I promise you." "But you can't tell me what it is?" "Mum," Ami spoke with exasperation. She had grown tired of these conversations years ago. Once her mother realized that she couldn't ground her to prevent her from spending time with Adam and Megabyte, she had actually gotten to know the young men; but she hadn't stopped worrying. And her mother didn't hesitate to take every opportunity to remind Ami's fellow Tomorrow People that she worried. Sometimes, Ami envied Megabyte. For all the disagreements and disappointments he had with his father, General Damon accepted Megabyte's status as a Tomorrow Person. He accepted the Tomorrow People, and even occasionally aided them or provided them with information, albeit grudgingly. "Mum. It's fine, I promise you." Her mother stared at her for what seemed an endless moment. Then with some trepidation, she finally nodded. "All right, then. I'm taking your word for it, Ami. Now, let's talk about what you're going to wear to your cousin Megan's wedding." With a roll of her eyes, Ami nodded. Anything had to be better than talking about the Tomorrow People and the mysterious Richie. End of Chapter Three _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: The Invasion of Earth (8/12) Date: 04 Mar 1998 22:08:03 +1100 FOUR INTO THREE The Invasion of Earth by Roger Price First published 1975 by Pan Books Ltd, in association with Independant Television Publications Ltd. Copyright 1975 Roger Price ISBN 0 330 24294 6 Part 8/12 CHAPTER SEVEN 'There is a planet called Regus Five which seems to meet all the necessary requirements,' TIM communicated to the Tomorrow People, still aboard the Kraatan ship. 'And the Galactic Federation have given their blessing to the Kraatans making a settlement there.' TIM then transmitted all the details about Regus Five, the fifth planet of the Regus system. On the bridge of the Kraatan ship the Chief Navigation Officer poured over the star charts with John and the Kraatan Commander. The charts were founded on viewing the Galaxy from a different perspective and it took John some time to decipher them and then track down Regus Five and point it out to the two Kraatans. Finally, when he was certain he was right, he laid a finger on a tiny star thirty-eight light years distant from their present position. 'There,' he said, 'the fifth planet out from that star, we call it Regus Five. You should find everything to your liking there.' The Commander and the Navigation Officer exchanged disappointed glances, then the Commander turned angrily on John: 'Why do you mock us? Is it not enough that we have surrendered to you? You know that we are going to die in space without ever seeing any world where we can live. Must you add mockery to our misery?' John was taken aback by this outburst. 'But I told you,' he persisted, 'Regus Five had just about everything you need to settle down and build a thriving Kraatan settlement. One day it will be another Kraata, better than the world you had to leave.' 'That world is no good to us.' 'Why not? It's got everything you could possibly need.' 'Because we could never get there. I know that you Earthlings mean well, but all that you have done is to show us a mirage in the desert, to offer us hope and then snatch it from us.' 'What do you mean you can't get there?' John protested. 'This is a Star Ship. It can travel at many times the speed of light. Regus Five isn't that far by any standards of interstellar travel.' 'There was once a time when we could have undertaken such a voyage,' sighed the Commander, 'but not now. Our life support systems and our fuel are both running low. I should have guessed that the world you might find for us would be beyond our range. Your Earth was really our last chance. That is denied to us. Now we shall die in space. I should prefer it if you left us before the Ceremony of Ritual Suicide begins.' 'Perhaps there is still some way we can help you,' John insisted. 'There is, I think,' said Stephen. 'While I was examining the workings of their space ship I was struck by the way their fuel is transformed into energy for their Hyper Light Drive.' 'What about it, Stephen?' John asked. They all waited for the answer. 'Well,' said Stephen, enjoying the attention being paid to him, 'they must have come to within a hairsbreadth of inventing the Matter Transporter when they devised that fuel system. It works in the same way.' 'Are you saying that there is a Matter Transporter on board that is big enough to move the whole ship to Regus Five?' 'Yes, John, I am. There are a few pieces missing because it was never built to be a Matter Transporter, but there's nothing we couldn't get hold of or make. Given forty-eight hours with a few willing helpers I reckon I could transform this entire ship into the biggest Matter Transporter the Galaxy has ever seen. Then we could jaunt the whole lot to Regus Five in the blink of an eye, no bother.' 'Stephen, you're a genius!' 'Thank you, Elizabeth, I wondered when someone was going to admit it.' 'I admit it, too,' conceded John graciously. 'You've been hiding your light under a bushel all these years.' 'It would take a lot of power, of course,' said Stephen gravely. 'How much power?' 'All they've got,' Stephen replied emphatically. John turned to the Commander and to his son Raa and the Navigation Officer who had been listening intently and trying to follow what was being said. 'Did you understand what we were discussing?' 'No,' replied the Commander, 'but it sounded interesting; what I could gather or it. Can you explain?' 'Commander, you have seen how we can move ourselves from place to place by disappearing and reappearing?' 'Yes, it is a most impressive skill. I envy it.' 'We think we can do the same thing with your entire space ship.' The Commander was incredulous. John and Stephen explained in simple terms what they intended to do, and as understandings began to dawn the Kraatans grew more and more excited. 'Can you really make it work?' 'I don't know for sure,' John replied, 'but if Stephen says he can, then he probably will pull it off. He's a stupid kid much of the time, but not about mechanical things. I'm no slouch in that direction myself, and I think there's a fighting chance.' 'A fighting chance is all we ever ask for,' said the Commander. 'Good. That's settled then. If Stephen and some of your engineers get to work right away, we can use one of our small Matter Transporters and take you to have a look at Regus Five. After all you ought to be able to view your new home before deciding whether you want to buy it.' 'You could take me to see this world?' The Commander was having his credulity stretched to breaking point. 'How?' 'The same way that we travel. Disappear from here and reappear there. Just like your ship will when Stephen has finished with it.' The Commander motioned the Navigation Officer out of earshot before replying. 'I would like to accept your offer but I cannot leave the ship. The truth is that I dare not. The unrest demonstrated by Backthurn and his fellow conspirators has only been temporarily silenced. It has not been completely laid to rest. If I were to leave the ship they might turn on whoever was left in charge, kill or drive away any Earthlings that were left on board, and attack your world. I must stay to prevent that from happening.' 'I second that,' John said, 'but you must have an officer you could send in your place. You really ought to have one of your own people scout out the right place for a landing and so on.' 'Please, father, may I go?' 'No, Raa, you are too young. You are only a Cadet Officer.' 'The Earthlings are also young, father.' He pointed to Tyso. 'That one must be very young.' Tyso smiled self-consciously. 'A more experienced officer would be more suitable . . .' mumbled the Commander, not wanting to refuse his eager son outright. 'Who, father? Who could you really trust not to turn on the Earthlings when he was alone with them, if they turned their backs just once?' The Commander thought for a long moment and then nodded. 'Yes, Raa . . . You go.' To John he said, 'You will look after my son, Earthman?' 'With my life,' promised John. (end of part 8) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: The Invasion of Earth (10/12) Date: 06 Mar 1998 21:49:19 +1100 FOUR INTO THREE The Invasion of Earth by Roger Price First published 1975 by Pan Books Ltd, in association with Independant Television Publications Ltd. Copyright 1975 Roger Price ISBN 0 330 24294 6 Part 10/12 CHAPTER EIGHT (continued) The monster took him in a bone-crushing grip and set off at remarkable speed, crashing through the undergrowth. Elizabeth was near to hysterics. Raa, who had been too far away to see what happened, came running up. 'The stun gun had no effect on it!' gasped John. 'He tried to save me! It only got him because he tried to save me,' Elizabeth sobbed. They were both in a state of shock, doing nothing while the monster retreated with its prey, Tyso, clutched in its crab-like claws. 'What?' shouted Raa. They told him what had happened as all three of them stumbled after the trail of the creature. 'I've never understood why advanced creatures like you should choose to use a puny weapon like your stun gun,' Raa growled, unholstering his blaster pistol. 'This will stop it, whatever it is.' 'It's a Thraal,' John said, remembering. 'That's what they were called in the Galactic Federation Survey report. Fortunately there aren't many of them. We were just unlucky to encounter one that was hungry and hunting.' The trail led them clear of the jungle to the foot of the steep rocky slope that led up into the mountains. Then they saw the Thraal, some way above them and climbing fast. It moved on six legs which heaved its several tons bulk up the hillside with astonishing agility. At about the same time the Thraal saw them through one of its many eyes. It had crab-like claws at the back as well as at the front. With two of these, and without letting go of Tyso's body, it picked up a gigantic boulder and hurled it down the mountainside at its pursuers. They flung themselves to one side, but Raa was not quite quick enough. The boulder struck him a glancing blow before it went crashing and splintering into the trees below, leading hundreds of smaller stones dancing after it. Raa was flung back against a rock, where he lay in a tangled heap, moaning softly. They bent anxiously over him. 'It looks like he might have a bone or two broken,' John said. 'You stay with him, Elizabeth, I'll keep after the Thraal.' 'John,' Raa managed to whisper, 'take my blaster pistol. It is powerful. It will kill the Thraal.' John took the proffered weapon and hoped he would be able to use it when the time came. Elizabeth put his thoughts into words. 'That blaster will kill the creature outright, John.' 'I know,' he replied uncertainly. Then he jaunted to catch up with the Thrall. The monster was not just fleeing blindly. It knew where it was going. Keeping at a safe distance John followed, looking for a chance to take a shot that would not also hit Tyso, who remained unconscious in the Thraal's claws. The chase led to the mouth of a deep gloomy cave that was the Thraal's lair. There it paused and lowered Tyso's body to the ground. It picked up another huge stone and searched about to find John and bombard him with it. This was John's chance. He had a clear field of fire at the Thraal and there was no danger of hitting Tyso. He took careful aim and slipped off the safety catch. Then his finger froze on the trigger. He realized that even now, even under such circumstances, he could not bring himself to kill. Elizabeth, linked to him telepathically, sensed his predicament and sympathized. 'John, what are we going to do?' Raa also sense that something was wrong and started up on his elbows. 'What is happening? Does John need help?' He knew that the Tomorrow People could communicate telepathically, and Elizabeth had been giving him a running commentary on the progress John was making. 'It's your blaster pistol, Raa.' 'Doesn't that work either? Then we have no hope. Poor Tyso.' 'No, it's not that. John can't use it.' 'But I thought he knew how?' 'He does know how. He can't bring himself to use it that's all.' 'Why not? What is John playing at. Tyso will die if he does not shoot the Thraal.' 'He knows that, Raa, but he can't bring himself to kill a living creature, not even a Thraal, none of us could. We cannot kill, not even to save ourselves.' 'Help me up,' Raa hissed. He tried to stand and the pain winced up his leg to burn his whole left side. 'I've got to get up there somehow. Will this Matter Transporter take me up there?' 'Yes it will but . . .' Elizabeth protested. 'Then make it take me to John, please . . .' Raa gasped. He was trying hard to hold on to consciousness while the pain racked his body. Elizabeth did as he asked and then jaunted with him. They arrived together at John's side. Raa held out his hand for the blaster pistol. John handed it to him. There was contempt in Raa's voice. 'What sort of coward are you? That you do not shoot to save of the life of your friend.' 'It had nothing to do with cowardice, Raa. It is the way we are. It is an instinct with us. I would sooner die than take another creature's life.' 'It isn't you that the Thraal is going to kill,' Raa said with unquestionable logic, through gritted teeth. He stumbled as the pain barely got the better of him. He fought against it and won. Then he steadied himself against a rock and took aim. Before he could fire the Thraal retreated into its cave, dragging Tyso with it. 'Too late,' Raa moaned. 'But we can follow it.' 'Right,' agreed John, 'I'll help you.' He and Elizabeth propped Raa between them and helped him limp towards the mouth of the cave. Suddenly, with a shattering roar, the Thraal plunged out of the cave and loomed over them. Elizabeth screamed. The monster held stones in its claws and hurled them at its attackers. John and Elizabeth did their best to hustle Raa to safety, but he stumbled and the blaster pistol was ripped from his grasp. Instinctively, John and Elizabeth jaunted. Raa, unable to work the Matter Transporter by himself, lay helpless as the Thraal lurched towards him, its huge bone cracking pincers menacing for the kill. (end of part 10) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: The Invasion of Earth (9/12) Date: 06 Mar 1998 21:49:02 +1100 FOUR INTO THREE The Invasion of Earth by Roger Price First published 1975 by Pan Books Ltd, in association with Independant Television Publications Ltd. Copyright 1975 Roger Price ISBN 0 330 24294 6 Part 9/12 CHAPTER EIGHT It took a lot of power to Matter Transport Raa all the way to Regus Five. Before they could even attempt the journey they had to 'borrow' a compact nuclear reactor from a defunct U.S. satellite and hook it up to the Matter Transporter belt. That was in reserve for the return journey. For the outward 'kick' they hooked the belt into the main power system of the Kraatan ship. Everything dimmed and all power was drained into the belt for the half second it took Raa to dematerialize and be flung thirty-eight light years to the planet Regus Five. At that same moment John, Elizabeth, and Tyso jaunted. Stephen was left wondering, 'If that was the amount of power needed to jaunt just one Kraatan, would he have enough available to take a whole space-ship load all that way, with their space ship!' He didn't share his anxiety with the Commander. Instead he said: 'Right, let's get started on the ship now. Where are those engineers you promised?' The Commander barked an order and a dozen Kraatans filed in and stood with their heads bowed waiting for their orders. Thirty-eight light years away, on the surface of Regus Five, four space-suited figures looked curiously about them. It was always exciting, the first few moments standing on the soil of an alien world, light years from home. For Raa it must have been a mind-blowing experience. He gaped at the lowering clouds and the bright sun shining penetratingly through them, to make steam rise from the thick vegetation all around. They were standing at the edge of a large lake with vegetation that was thick, but not quite a jungle, stretching away on either side and a tall rocky mountain climbing steeply behind them. There were small birds and insects everywhere. The planet teemed with life. 'It's like one imagines the Earth must have looked in the time of the great reptiles,' said Tyso. 'Yes,' agreed John, 'ideal for the Kraatans. It's pretty well exactly like their world must have been before they destroyed it: hot and humid.' 'Like living in a greenhouse,' commented Elizabeth. 'Looks like rain,' said Tyso, gazing at the thick clouds. 'Rain?' asked Raa, coming out of his reverie. 'That's when water falls from the sky,' Tyso explained. Raa looked as though he didn't believe him. 'Rain or not the air is breathable for Kraatans and just about breathable for us. We can all take our helmets off.' They undid their seals and pulled off their helmets. Raa breathed in deeply. They could all see that he was pleased. 'Better than recirculated air,' he said happily, 'and it moves. I can feel it moving past my skin.' There was a gentle breeze blowing, which created an entirely new sensation for Raa, who had been raised inside a space ship. 'It is all new to me. I have been to other worlds before, ones that we explored on our travels searching for home, but never have I trod on one where I could remove the helmet of my space suit.' 'What about animal life, John?' asked Elizabeth. 'Is there anything that might be dangerous?' 'Yes, there is,' John said. 'There are some quite large things.' 'You're telling me,' Tyso said. 'Can't you hear them? They're all around us. They must have fled as soon as we materialized. The first thing I heard when I took my helmet off was lots of animals, some quite big ones, blundering away from us through the bush. They were snorting and trumpeting, making a dickens of a row.' 'I didn't hear anything like that,' said John, half believing that Tyso was trying to frighten them with ideas of monsters. 'You never do,' Tyso rebuked him. 'You ought to get your ears washed out.' Now that Tyso had mentioned it they could all hear the creatures moving around them in the forest, and loud splashes out on the lake as big things surfaced to gulp air or snap at birds and insects. It was not possible to see very far because of the mist that hung over everything, due to the high level of humidity. 'We're not here to argue,' Elizabeth chided them both. 'We're here to help Raa confirm that this world will be suitable for the Kraatans and if possible select a place where they can land the space ship and build a settlement.' They set to work exploring and taking various readings; of soil density, water purity, and so on. Although an 'Open World' Regus Five had never been properly explored, and the knowledge that TIM had been able to glean from the memory banks of the Galactic Trig had been sketchy in the extreme. But with every reading they took they grew more hopeful and Raa began to positively bubble with enthusiasm. They began to spread further and further apart as they got more involved in their work and forgot Tyso's warning about big animals lurking nearby. Elizabeth bent over a particularly beautiful flower. She would dearly have loved to take it back to Earth, but she realized the importance of the Tomorrow People's own rule against bringing anything to Earth that might contaminate or upset the ecology of their own world. 'Elizabeth! Look out!' Tyso telepathed a warning at the same moment as he jaunted to her side. Elizabeth, hearing his cry and looking round, saw the danger and jaunted to safety. Having come to rescue Elizabeth, Tyso now found himself standing alone with the huge reptile rearing about him. It had two grasping forelimbs like crab's pincers that were reaching down towards him. Tyso stood rooted with fear. 'Jaunt, Tyso! Jaunt!' screamed Elizabeth from her safe position fifty yards away. But Tyso had forgotten how. Like a rabbit face to face with the fox, he was transfixed. John fired a minimum power blast from his stun gun. The stunning energy had no effect on the reptile but bounced and ricocheted off its armoured hide. Some of the blast caught Tyso on the rebound and he toppled slowly to the ground unconscious. (end of part 9. Chapter 8 continues in part 10) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michael Matott Subject: TPFICT: Monolith Part6/8 Date: 06 Mar 1998 13:53:37 -0500 Whoops. This was supposed to go out yesterday. Sorry. All comments/questions to matottm@alleg.edu. Thanks. mike ______________ "They programmed me," Greg said. "They convinced me that this man would hurt me unless I killed him." "Neil Hamilton," General Damon said. He'd already filled his son in on the information Adam had requested. "They told me he hunted kids like me, kids who were runaways and thieves," Greg's hand shook around a cup of coffee. "They told me that they would do something to make me better, powerful. They operated on me and after the third operation I started hearing the voices." "Voices?" General Damon asked. "People's thoughts," Greg said. "I'd been given the ability to read minds. They did it to make me a better assassin; anticipating someone's every move by reading their minds." Greg stopped and took a deep breath, then went on, "But there was another reason for it. Apparently the Center's agents in Salisbury found something emanating wavelengths similar to telepathic communication. These wavelengths were coming from Stonehenge. They took me there one night and had me try to match wavelengths with one of the columns. We were using a biofeedback machine. The two wavelengths merged and suddenly it was like another mind merged with mine, but it was incredibly alien ... and evil." "The parasite that possessed Lisa and then Adam," Megabyte said. "After that it was as if I was moving in a haze," Greg said. "Something else was in control and it didn't mind that the Center wanted me to kill. In fact, it was looking forward to it." "How did you get to the United States?" Damon asked. "I was under the impression that this parasite couldn't teleport." "It can't teleport. The Center didn't even know they'd given me that ability. I didn't know it until I came out of my coma and Megabyte found me on the beach. He was the one who told me about what the parasite did after I went comatose. The Center smuggled me into the U.S. on a private jet. They had me telepathically alter the memories of the customs agents that examined the plane." "Altered?" Megabyte's jaw dropped, "I didn't think it was possible to alter someone's mind." "I don't think I could've done it on my own," Greg said. "The parasite bolstered my abilities." "What happened next?" Damon asked. "The Center agents laid the plan out for me. I was to shoot Hamilton in the chest at close range. After that, I was to be cut loose. I'd been programmed not to reveal anything. I was supposed to wait in custody, reading the minds of the government agents and filing away anything that might be useful to be retrieved later. They didn't count on my getting sick. Neither did the parasite. It abandoned me when I fell into the coma." "Which is where the rest of us come into the story," Megabyte said. "So what can we do now?" Greg asked. "I send my agents out to Salisbury to look for Adam and Lisa," General Damon said, rising from the desk. "Then, Greg tells me all he knows about the Center." "You don't expect us to just stay here, do you?" "Yes, Megabyte, I do," General Damon crossed to his door and leaned outside to speak to his secretary. [Let's go,] Megabyte 'pathed. [But your father said ... ] [Never mind what he said,] Megabyte 'pathed. [We're not just going to sit here and do nothing.] [Where are we going?] [Salisbury.] Greg gave a telepathic sigh and then linked slightly with Megabyte so that the more experienced teen could guide the teleport. They disappeared simultaneously in a rush of imploding air. "Now let's get down to ... " General Damon returned to the room and came to an abrupt halt when he found it empty. "Damn it, Marmaduke. Why don't you ever listen?" ********************************************************* 'Thank God that Megabyte and Adam can't see me now,' Lisa thought. She'd stripped off her jacket, blouse, jeans, and sneakers. She sat on the floor in her underwear working quickly to tie her clothes together. 'This is not going to work,' she thought, 'but what other choice do I have?' Her blouse was tied to one leg of her jeans by the sleeve. Her jacket tied in the same way to the other leg. Her sneakers were tied to the jacket to add weight. She stood and held her makeshift rope in her hands. She tossed it up into the air and over the fluorescent light. The loose sleeve of her shirt hung a few inches above her head on one side of the light. The jacket sleeve, with attached sneakers, hung a few inches higher. "Well, so far, so good," Lisa said to herself. She jumped and tried to even out the two sides. Then she carefully pulled them as close to the wall as she could. Testing her weight on the make-shift rope, Lisa began walking up the wall while climbing up the clothes rope. The rope gave her enough leverage to climb up. Not as easy as rock climbing had been, but a similar idea. She grabbed a hold of the fluorescent light and pulled herself up. The rods holding the light to the ceiling creaked ominously. Lisa lay flat on the light, evenly distributing her weight. There were no more creaks. "Now to see about this ventilation shaft." The shaft was about a foot and a half in front of LIsa. There were two screws on the bottom; the top was hinged. Lisa wished that they hadn't taken her belt. The buckle would've gotten the screws loose. Lisa checked her pockets. They'd removed her Swiss Army knife, of course, but for some reason they'd left her spare change and bus tokens. Lisa took a token and fitted it into the head of a screw. For five minutes, nothing happened. Then there was a slight pop and the screw began to turn. It took her another five minutes before the screw was loose enough to remove by hand. The second screw wasn't nearly as stubborn. Ten minutes later Lisa was in the ventilation shaft; pulling her clothes in behind her. ******************************************* They materialized in a broom closet. A locked broom closet. [Greg?] Megabyte 'pathed. There was no reply. "Greg?" Megabyte hissed. "Yeah?" Greg hissed back. "It's too dark for me to see anything," Megabyte whispered. "Where are you?" Megabyte stretched an arm out and hit something. There was a gasp and then a strangled cry. "Ouch," Greg said. "I'm right here." "Oh. Yeah. Um, sorry about that," Megabyte said. "So, is this the right place?" "I think so," Greg said in an uncertain tone. "So, where are we?" Megabyte asked. "I think we're in a broom closet." Megabyte tried to turn the doorknob, "They lock their broom closets?" "Hey, how was I supposed to know?" Megabyte sighed and rattled the doorknob. "Well, we could just teleport to the other side," he said. "Um, I don't think we can," Greg said. "Why not?" "I think something is blocking us." "Oh. That would make sense," Megabyte said. "I couldn't sense you after we 'ported in." "So how do we get out of here?" "Like this," Megabyte shouted as he brought his leg up and out for a kick. There was a thud and another strangled cry, followed by a muffled curse and repeated "ow"s. "Or not," Megabyte managed through clenched teeth. "Would it help to know that the doors open inside?" Greg asked. "Yeah, it probably would." Megabyte went back to pulling on the door-knob and rattling it. *************************************** End Part 6 Comments/questions to matottm@alleg.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Thomas Veil Subject: TPFICT: The Beta Wave (4/5) Date: 06 Mar 1998 19:18:13 -0800 (PST) The Beta Wave Part 4/5 "It's still there, buried two million years deep, beneath the ice." "Leave it there" Mulder and Scully Chapter 4: ^We need to get back there right away. Let’s go.^ Ben thought. ^We can’t rush in to quickly,^ Adam replied. ^We don’t want to put ourselves in a dangerous position unprepared.^ ^General Damon?^ David asked. ^No, that’ll only complicate things. He’ll try to bring in a large force, a force that unlike us will be susceptible to being taken over by the aliens. But we should get the others. I don’t think Ami and Megabyte are up to this, but we should definitely bring in Jade. She’s also fought these things before. We can bring Kevin as well. What about your friends?^ ^Well,^ David answered, ^I’m sure Tiana will come, but I don’t think this is the sort of thing Melissa would want to do and Jon’s grandfather is in the hospital, so he won’t want to come either. And then there’s always Ben’s friends. One of them may be a Tomorrow Person as well.^ ^I don’t understand,^ Ben thought. ^Why would you think one of them would be one of us?^ ^We have a tendency to meet each other before we break out,^ Adam informed him. ^Kevin and Megabyte were friends before either of them broke out. Ami was pulled to Kevin when he was sick. We met Jade over a year before she broke out. David started tutoring Jon before Jon broke out, and Jon and Melissa had been friends since they were children. We don’t always meet each other ahead of our breaking out, but our blood tends to call us to each other.^ ^So you’re saying that there’s a good chance that someone I know is also a Tomorrow Person?^ ^If so,^ David replied, ^It’s probably one of your close friends. We tend to share more bonds than just being Tomorrow People.^ Adam thought for a minute before determining a good course of action. ^Let’s bring in the others,^ he thought. Then we can head to Ben’s home and see how widespread the takeover is. We should probably try to track down his friends as well, just in case one of them is a Tomorrow Person.^ The others agreed to his plan and they began. ******** He looked around quickly to make sure that nobody was looking in his direction as he disappeared into the restricted area. Even though his position granted him the clearance and codes required to pass through the area he was not supposed to be here. But he had his orders. He was careful not to trip the silent alarms that lined the corridor. He soon arrived at the room he was looking for. Actually, it was more of a safe than a room. It was airtight and was sealed by a double lock. The first part of the locking mechanism involved entering a nine digit code into a number pad. With one of his gloved hands he quickly typed in the appropriate number. The second step involved a computer override through the system network. His boss, his real boss had arranged for the second part to be taken care of from a remote location. He checked his watch. He hoped they were on time. If not then the alarms would trip when he opened the door. But they didn’t. That was one less thing to worry about. He didn’t understand why his employer was having him take this risk. He knew that even if he wasn’t implicated General Damon would know that there was a traitor in the ranks. But Lady Mulvaney had claimed that she needed the item for her experiments. And who was he to question her? ******** Rob jumped with surprise when the flashes of light surrounded him, but he quickly recovered as the flashes revealed Ben, David, Adam, and three strangers: an Indian girl, a short boy several years younger than Rob, and a girl who appeared to be about the same age or a little younger. He could see that they were all relieved about something. “What is it?” he asked, signing as well for Ben’s benefit. “There were more aliens than we thought. At least one of them, probably more, is still here,” Adam answered. “We’re going to make sure that you and your friends are safe and try to figure out where the aliens are.” *Why don’t you check out Jen’s place. She is your girlfriend after all,* Ben signed to Rob. *I’ll head over to Linda’s. Adam will go with you, as well as Kevin and Jade,* Ben explained and indicated that the two he had named were the two younger Tomorrow People. *We’d better not waste any time,* Rob told him. *Let’s get started.* ******** Ami was still upset. How dare he come here after what he had done to her? And she had sensed someone teleporting in outside just now. She went and opened the front door. “I told you to leave me alone.” She yelled, before realizing that it was not Megabyte who had arrived, but Melissa. “I’m sorry,” Ami apologized. “I thought you were someone else. Why did you come here?” “Most of the others are with a new Tomorrow Person. There seems to be some sort of trouble, but I didn’t really want to get involved. I’m not really good at high pressure stuff as you may have noticed several months back.” Ami smiled. She hadn’t been very involved with the Tomorrow People since they had met Melissa and her friends. She didn’t know any of their group very well. “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why come to see me?” “Because I didn’t feel like spending the day alone. It’s only a little after noon back home, and so I thought maybe we could spend some time together to try to get to know one another. David’s always saying that we need to do more things with you guys, so I thought I may as well start.” “All right. Have you eaten yet? I was just about to get some supper.” “Nope, I haven’t. What were you going to eat?” “I was thinking about popping out and getting some carry-out food. Chinese sound good?” “Sure. Let’s go.” ******** As they crossed the town, it didn’t seem that the aliens had spread as far as Adam had feared that they would. after all, these seemed to not share the weaknesses that the first group had. He only hoped that they could find a way to force them out of hosts. After all, not everyone in the town could be a Tomorrow Person. Rob was leading the way to his girlfriend Jen’s house. She was one of the two whom he thought was close enough to Ben that they may be a Tomorrow Person waiting to break out. Come to think of it, Rob seemed a little disquieted. “Is something wrong?” Adam asked him. “Where is everyone?” Rob asked. Seeing that the others were puzzled he continued. “I don’t know how things are where you’re from, but there are usually people all around. On Saturday’s there’s usually people playing basketball at the schoolyard, and in this weather there should be kids out playing. But nobody is. Something is wrong.” Adam thought about what he was saying. “You know this town much better than I do. My guess is that the aliens have started taking over. They probably started with the people who were out and around and if they haven’t yet they will start going door to door soon.” “Yeah,” Jade chipped in, “that’s what they did in my town.” “Then if they haven’t moved to the second part, Jen will probably be okay. She usually doesn’t get up before noon on the weekends. She’ll still be in bed unless her mom woke her up for some reason.” They reached her house and walked up to the door. Rob rang the doorbell, waited a couple seconds, then opened the door and they went in. “Yeah, what do you want?” came a grumbling voice, the owner of which was soon revealed as a young brunette who had obviously just woken up within the last several minutes. “Rob, what are you doing here?” She asked. “And who are these people. It’s bad enough that mom woke me up just now, but you bring an entourage into my house when I haven’t even had time to get dressed yet?” “We don’t have time for this, Jen,” Rob interrupted. “We may all be in danger. Get dressed quick. Trust me on this one.” Adam grinned at their banter. It was obvious that they cared for each other from the looks they exchanged, no matter what their voices were saying. And he could sense the anger from here, something he would not be able to do if one of the aliens was possessing her. She returned to her room to change out of her pajamas, and returned quickly. “I don’t suppose I have time to brush my hair do I?” she asked. Rob’s answer was interrupted by her mom entering from the kitchen. She looked around the room, noticing the strange faces. She looked strangely at Jen, and a greenish mist began to eminate from behind her. She stepped aside and Adam could see that behind her were several townspeople holding pods. ^Grab Rob!^ Adam thought to Kevin and Jade. He immediatly dove for Jen, wrapped his arms around her, and teleported to the island. A flash of light gave warning as Kevin and Jade teleported in, each holding one of Rob’s arms. “What just happened, and where are we?” Jen questioned. Rob put his arm around her. “It’s a long story,” he said. ******** Ben indicated that they had arrived at Linda’s house. They had just heard from Adam about what had happened at Jen’s home. Hopefully they had not yet reached Linda’s house, but they would see. ^Let me talk to Linda,^ Ben thought to the others. ^I’ll let you know what she’s signing to me.^ Linda answered the door and let them in. *Is your mother here?* Ben signed. *Yeah, she’s upstairs. Are these some of your friends who can teleport?* *Yes. This is David and Tiana. We may still be in danger. The aliens that I mentioned earlier are still in town. We have to get you out of here. We’ll take your mother too. We can take you with us to meet the others at the island. It’s sort of our main base, I guess.* *I’m not going to the island,* Linda signed. ******** Ami was having a good time. She had not realized how much she missed the sense of belonging that she felt when she was around the other Tomorrow People. They were almost finished with their supper, well it was lunch for Melissa, but still, even after the short time they had been talking Ami felt remarkably close to the energetic American. “Say,” Melissa said, “why were you yelling when I first got here? Who did you think I was? Do they have Jehovah’s Witnesses over here too?” Ami turned away. “Megabyte was here earlier.” “You really care about him, don’t you.” “Keep out of my head.” “I didn’t have to read your mind. I read your face. I saw how you reacted when you thought about him. You’re mad at him, but you still have feelings for him.” “And when did my feelings become your business?” “Because you need someone to talk to. I know. We may not know each other very well but you can trust me.” “How do you know that you’re even right? You said yourself that you didn’t scan my mind.” “Because I’ve been reading faces and reactions for years now. You’d be surprised how much you can learn about people just from watching them. Take Tiana and David for example. Just from the way they act around each other I can tell that David loves her very much, but that she doesn’t feel the same way about him. She cares about him, but only because he is the first guy to ever treat her like a real person instead of an ornament. “Of course, anyone could read David, he wears his emotions out in the open. You can tell how he feels from a glance. It’s easy to see whether he is happy or said, content or angry.” “David angry? I don’t think I could imagine that. He seems so... sweet.” “And he is, usually. I’ve only seen him truly lose his temper once. And trust me, I never want to see it again. It wasn’t a pretty site. It was like he was in a blind rage.” “Surely your overexagerating.” “Not at all. Let’s put it this way: the person he was mad at is lucky David is a Tomorrow Person. Otherwise David would probably have killed him. “But you, now, keep your emotions bottled up. You put on your strong exterior and don’t let anyone see what’s bothering you. And I’m guessing that that is why you’re really mad at Megabyte. Because you let him see you without your shields, and when you found out that he wasn’t doing the same you lost control.” “I think I’ve heard about enough of you telling me what I do and don’t feel. Leave now.” “How about if we make a deal: I won’t talk about Megabyte anymore, and you won’t make me leave.” “Okay, deal. Do you want anything else to eat?” “No, I’m just about stuffed. Toss me a fortune cookie.” Ami tossed her one and grabbed the other. Melissa cracked hers open and popped one half into her mouth as she read her fortune, then she showed it to Ami. ‘Your imagination may run wild, but it often foretells that which is to come.’ Of course she should have expected it to be cryptic. She opened hers and pulled out the slip of paper. She read it, crumpled it up and threw it across the room. “I think I need to be alone for a while,” Ami said. Before she left, Melissa looked at the fortune that had set Ami off. ‘When love comes knocking, don’t be afraid to answer the door.’ ******** Megabyte was surprised when he heard his dad enter the house. He should have still been at the office. He usually worked all day on Saturdays. From the next room, Megabyte could here his mom commenting on his early arrival. “I decided that I you were right. I need to spend some more time with you and the kids. It’s a beautiful day. We should do something as a family.” “I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Megabyte’s mom said. “I finally got through to you. Marmaduke’s in the kitchen eating, and I think Millie is still sleeping, but when she gets up, I’m sure she’d be glad to...” Their conversation was interrupted by the phone ringing. Not wanting to impede his parent’s apparent make-up Megabyte quickly grabbed the phone before it got off a second ring. “Hello,” he said. “Megabyte? This is Frank. Is the general there? I know he wanted to take the day off, but this is important.” “Dad, It’s the office,” Megabyte called into the living room. After his dad picked up, he hung the phone up and entered the living room. “A hacker?” his dad was saying, “You sure it was serious. You checked it out?... They did what!... And the computer system didn’t flag it?... Right, it must have been pulled off by a pro.... What all was breached?... The security access system? To where?... I’ll be right there. Bye.” “What is it this time?” Megabyte’s mom asked. “Someone got into Sector 5. They haven’t determined what was taken, but I need to go.” Megabyte and his mom immediately recognized the severity of the problem. Sector 5 was the containment area for all of WorldEx’s hazardous material. If anything was stolen.... “Go,” Megabyte’s mom said. “It was the thought that counted, I suppose.” ******** *Look,* Ben signed as he sent his thoughts to Tiana, *We don’t have time for this. They could be here any minute. Get your mom.* ^I’ll go find her,^ David thought to him. Ben nodded to show his agreement. *You can’t just barge in here and do what you want without asking. This is my house.* *But it won’t be your body if we don’t get you to a safe place.* They were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. ^Let’s go,^ Ben thought to Tiana and David. ^I don’t know how you do things where your from, but we leave our doors unlocked around here. We have to get out now.^ Before she had a chance to object, Ben grabbed Linda and teleported. David let them know that he had gotten Linda’s mom out. As they teleported, Ben realized that he hadn’t thought about landing on the island, just getting himself and Linda out of there. Consequently, they ended up in the water. Rob and Adam ran out to help them to shore. Rob grabbed Ben and dragged him to the beach, while Adam went to Linda, who apparently was’t in much need of help. She swum to shore on her own, and collapsed on the beach. Adam reached down to help her up, and when she looked up at him, he uttered in surprise, “Lisa.” ******** End Part 4. Please send comments to hiddenagenda@rocketmail.com === Thomas Veil *A rough whimper of insanity* _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (6/25) Date: 06 Mar 1998 23:55:42 -0500 Perceptions (6/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Chapter Six By Michele R Mason The telephone insistently demanded Richie's attention as he raced into the hotel room. Leaving the door half-open and nearly tripping over several pieces of furniture, he raced across the room and over the bed to snatch it from the cradle. "Hello?" Richie panted into the telephone. "Richie. It's Joe." "Oh." Richie felt his heart sink. Not that he wasn't happy to hear from Joe; maybe the Watcher had information. But he had been more hoping to hear a soft, clipped British accent belonging to a certain young female. "Thanks," Joe commented dryly. "I thought you wanted my information." "I do, Joe. I'm sorry." Richie apologized, sitting on the bed. "I was expecting another phone call." "Female, I suppose?" Richie could hear the laughter and speculation in the Watcher's voice. "Could be." There was a pause while Joe waited for more, but Richie refused to play the old man's game. Not today anyway. Finally, Joe spoke again, his tone very crisp and business- like. Richie could almost see the man leaning against the bar back in Seacouver, his face drawn into a mask of thoughtfulness. "There's only one Immortal in the area who fits your description, Richie. A woman named Maris Keillor." "Assassin? IRA maybe?" "No, nothing like that. She worked as a volunteer at a hospital a few years back -- a children's hospital. She also did work with orphanages. The woman loves children." "Joe, it was a high-powered rifle. Trust me on this. She aimed it right in my face, so I got a pretty good look at it. She may like kids, but she hates anyone over the age of thirteen." "If you say you saw her, Rich, I'll believe you. But I'm telling you. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't fit her profile." "Then look some more. There has to be something there." "We are still looking. There are a few connections that we haven't checked out yet. She did work for a woman named Mulvaney a few years previously. Lady Mulvaney seems to have been under surveillance by several government agencies, so that might mean something." "Yeah," Richie agreed. "Like maybe that's where she got her rifle-training." "What about that girl you wanted me to check out? Did you find anything else on her?" "Yeah. I have her last name." Richie wiped the foolish grin off his face as he thought of Ami. "It's Jackson. Ami Jackson. I think she's on the up and up, though. Grounded, down to earth--" "Pretty?" "Oh, yeah. You should see her, Joe. She's got this smile that just--" the young Immortal stopped suddenly, hearing the light laughter on the other end of the telephone line. "Laugh all you want, Joe. I don't really care this time." "Seeing how you're obviously smitten beyond rational thought, maybe I should remind you that we know about Maris; we don't know about this Ami Jackson. There might be more to her than meets the eye. If Maris wanted to kill her --- there has to be a connection somewhere. So be careful." "I always am." "I'll call you back when I have more information. You will be there tonight?" Richie smiled brightly, although he knew the Watcher couldn't see him. "Well, I do have plans, but I should be able to pencil you in." "Watch your back, Richie." Didn't he always? End of Chapter Six _________________________________________________________________ "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough lifeboats. Half the people on this ship are going to die." "Not the better half." "You unimaginable bastard." -- Young Rose and Cal, "Titanic" "Now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson. And that he saved me. In every way that a person can be saved. I don't even have a picture of him. He lives now only in my memories." -- Old Rose, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (7/25) Date: 06 Mar 1998 23:57:27 -0500 Perceptions (7/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Chapter Seven By Michele R Mason Richie leaned against the wall of the movie theatre. He=20 resisted the urge to check his watch, knowing that he was=20 early anyway. The thing was, he was feeling like he was=20 back in high school again--and terrified that Ami might=20 decide not to show up after all. He kept telling himself=20 that his reasons for being here were purely innocent. If=20 Joe was right, and the mysterious Immortal was Maris=20 Keillor, and Maris Keillor wasn't the sort to decide to=20 assassinate innocent civilians, then there was definitely=20 more going on here than met the eye. That was what he tried=20 to tell himself. The truth wasn't quite as clear and unmuddied. From the=20 first time he saw her at the airport, Richie Ryan had been=20 attracted to Ami. He didn't know why; she couldn't have=20 been more than a day over nineteen, and she wasn't his=20 normal type. She wasn't worldly and experienced but she had=20 a certain charm that made it hard for him to think=20 straight. Richie realized he was smiling like a lunatic and wiped the=20 smile from his face.=20 Ami had made the arrangements. He was to meet her here=20 where she had already planned to enjoy the evening with=20 some of her friends. Richie would have preferred to meet=20 her alone; at least then, he might have been able to figure=20 out some way to broach the subject of Maris. But, if this=20 built her trust in him, then this would be an important=20 first step. He was, however, growing increasingly impatient. And he was=20 just about to think that he'd mixed up Ami's clearly worded=20 instructions when laughter made him turn his head. And once=20 again, his breath caught. Ami raised her hand in a wave, flanked on both sides by her=20 friends. Two male, and one female, and all of them not a=20 day over twenty. No, Richie had to reconsider as they=20 neared, the boy on Ami's left, tall and thin with dark=20 hair, seemed to be the oldest of the group; in fact, Richie=20 might have placed his age a few years above Ami's, and=20 certainly several years above the young blonde who giggled=20 on Ami's right. "Richie, sorry we're late," Ami smiled at him as the group=20 halted in a small semi-circle around him.=20 "It was my fault," the blonde shrugged, smiling. "I=20 couldn't find anything to wear." "It's a movie, Jade. It's dark. Who cares what you're=20 wearing?" That came from the redhead in the group. His=20 American accent took Richie by surprise. That must be Ami's American best friend. "Guys," Ami looked back and forth between the young blonde,=20 Jade, and the unnamed redhead. "Please." "While they're going for one another's throats, I'm Adam."=20 The tall dark haired young man held his hand out to Richie.=20 "And you're Richie." Richie shook his hand hesitantly. Not out of fear, but=20 again he was caught by surprise. He wasn't particularly=20 good with accents, but Adam's didn't sound very English,=20 Scottish, Irish=85or anything in their area. "You're not from=20 around here?" It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn=20 that Adam frowned slightly when their hands met. It passed=20 so quickly though that Richie wondered if he had been=20 imagining things after all. "He's quick," the redhead quipped. From the corner of his eye, Richie saw Jade give him a=20 sharp poke in the ribs. Adam ignored them both. "No. I'm from Australia."=20 Richie filed the information for later use. There was=20 definitely more here than met the eye. Two British girls,=20 one Australian, and one American made quite a mismatched=20 group. And their ages--the blonde had to be fourteen, maybe=20 fifteen. Richie didn't recall hanging around with very many=20 fourteen-year-olds when he was eighteen-- and he certainly=20 would lose patience with one these days.=20 "And that's Jade, and that's Megabyte," Ami continued the=20 introductions. "Megabyte?" Richie repeated the name slowly. "It's a nickname." The challenging look the younger boy=20 shot him dared him to question it. Richie didn't plan to question anything. Not yet at least.=20 For the time being, this group would be interesting to=20 watch. Very interesting. End of Chapter Seven _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (8/25) Date: 06 Mar 1998 23:59:20 -0500 Perceptions Chapter Eight By Michele R Mason "So, what are you doing in England anyway?" Richie was beginning to grow accustomed to Megabyte's bluntness. After the movie, the group headed over to the coffeehouse where they now found themselves, and the young American had made it plainly clear that Richie was not only not welcome, but not trusted either. However, Adam and Jade didn't seem to mind his presence, and they, along with Ami, made every attempt to make him feel welcome. For the most part it worked, although at times he got the peculiar feeling that there were things going on he couldn't see; several times it seemed almost as if the four knew what the others were thinking or were going to say long before the words left their lips. That sort of behavior Richie expected from old married couples -- not a group of young adults. "What Megabyte means is, 'Why are you visiting London?' " Ami shot the redhead a very dangerous glare which Richie hoped never to be on the receiving end of. Richie liked her, a little more than he wanted to. A little bit more than was considered wise. Particularly when he didn't know why Maris Keillor was after her, or whether or not it was merely coincidence that he encountered her twice since arriving in London. Coincidence or not, Richie couldn't deny the attraction to her; he could almost hear Joe and Mac teasing him about being suckered in by another pretty face. He kept trying to tell himself that she was only eighteen, that this wasn't a road he wanted to travel, but his heart and libido decided that his brain had clearly taken leave of its senses, and set out to ignore any rational thought or argument he sent in that direction. Richie smiled, probably foolishly, because he realized that he had been staring at her in silence for the space of a few breaths after she uttered her question. "I was delivering something for a friend." "What?" Jade's couched her question in genuine curiosity and interest, not the suspicious tones he had become accustomed to hearing Megabyte use. "He used to be an antiques dealer. He still purchases and sells antiques, so he had me drop a piece off to a dealer here in London." Megabyte scoffed. It didn't surprise Richie. The boy seemed determined to counter every word that Richie spoke. "Antiques? What's the point? It's all old junk." "Megabyte, antiques are a part of history." Adam stirred at his coffee thoughtfully. "If people didn't preserve them, we would lose a lot of history." "Yeah, Adam. Whatever." "Where are you from, Richie?" Jade continued her line of questioning. "New York? Los Angeles?" Richie had to laugh. Why was it that it seemed as though everyone thought the only cities Americans came from were New York or LA? "Actually, I'm from Seacouver." "Seacouver?" Megabyte questioned. "Nothing big about Seacouver." "I've heard there's nothing big about Vermont either." Jade remarked tartly. Richie definitely wondered about the group dynamics at work here. "Are you going back to Seacouver soon?" Ami's voice drew his attention. Somewhat reluctantly, Richie nodded. "In a few days. I was supposed to leave tomorrow--" "Why aren't you?" Megabyte interjected. "--But I decided to take a few extra days and see London." It took Richie a good deal of self-control to ignore the younger boy and keep speaking. "Maybe you can suggest some good sights to see?" "I could show you around," Ami suggested. As she did, her voice dropped a few decibels, her eyes focusing on the tabletop. "We all could. It would be fun." Jade added, then suddenly, her blue eyes widened in surprise as she stared across the table at Adam. Her cheeks flamed red, and she quickly looked down at her lap. "What I meant was--well--" She trailed off, looking for all the world as though there were a million other places she would like to be at that moment. Richie looked from the tall Australian to the young girl. Somehow, somewhere, he was certain that he had missed something. Something vital and important. He understood the reason for Jade's words--she was behaving as if she had been chastised, but no one had said a word to her; no one had even looked at her cross-eyed. "Yeah, why not?" Richie said in the silence. "I mean, if I don't say yes, I'll probably just end up bumping into you again, right Ami?" "Or following me," she returned his smile easily. Richie decided that smile was going to be the absolute death of him. The remainder of the evening followed relatively congenially, at least as congenial as things could be with Megabyte doing his best to be difficult. The atmosphere was relaxed, and Richie found himself taking a liking to both Adam and Jade. However odd this group may be, his gut instinct told him that they belonged together. The question that continued to plague him was what could have attracted the attention and the hatred of an Immortal? End of Chapter Eight _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: The Invasion of Earth (11/12) Date: 08 Mar 1998 12:47:06 +1100 FOUR INTO THREE The Invasion of Earth by Roger Price First published 1975 by Pan Books Ltd, in association with Independant Television Publications Ltd. Copyright 1975 Roger Price ISBN 0 330 24294 6 Part 11/12 CHAPTER NINE 'How is the work progressing?' Commander Vlachtarn inquired, as he arrived with his aides, on a tour of inspection to examine what Stephen was doing to turn the fuel system into a giant Matter Transporter. Stephen checked to ensure that a Kraatan Technician was carrying out his task correctly. Then he crossed to meet the Commander. 'Just fine, Commander. We should be ready by the time they get back from surveying Regus Five.' 'Good . . . You are very busy here. If it wouldn't take too much of your time, could you explain to me what you are doing?' 'Yes,' Stephen readily agreed, pleased at the opportunity to show off his knowledge. 'You see, before your fuel is fed into the reactor it is broken down into its component electrons by this apparatus here. I imagine it was introduced to provide greater fuel economy.' 'Yes,' confirmed the Commander, 'Kraatan efficiency at work.' 'Quite. So all the apparatus needed to break down any substance into its basic electrons already exists here. We just need to make it more efficient and more powerful, which is what we're trying to do now. Then we can reduce its limited selectivity so that it will electronize everything within its much expanded field; equipment, Kraatans, everything in the ship and the ship itself. Then all we have to do is transmit those electrons where we want them to go and reconstitute them in their original form at the other end.' 'It sound impossible. How do you do it?' 'I assure you it's perfectly possible, Commander, but how we do it is a secret I am not at liberty to reveal. Excuse me.' Stephen broke off to hurry across to a couple of Kraatan engineers whose activities had disturbed him. 'Gristan, isn't it, and Palkor? You're not doing that right. Here, let me show you.' Stephen took the recircuiter that the two Kraatans were using and bent to rectify their mistake. The Commander acknowledged that Stephen was busy and continued his tour of inspection. He tried to look intelligent, and hoped he gave the impression that he understood everything that was being done, in the tiniest technical detail. As Kraatans sprang to attention at his approach he motioned them to resume their work, occasionally he would murmur: 'Very good, well done,' when in truth he had not the slightest notion whether the engineer in question was doing well or not. If anyone looked as though they might turn to the Commander for advice, they were told to 'Carry on, take no notice of me', and treated to an all-knowing smile which the Commander hoped would mask his ignorance. He was well pleased. He felt he could trust these Earthlings. They had the power to defeat him in battle like a man swatting an insect and yet, for reasons of their own, they had chosen to help. Well, they seemed to know what they were doing and their help was very welcome. He wondered how Raa was getting on with the exploration party on Regus Five. **** Pinned beneath the Thraal, Cadet Officer Raa thought his last moments had come. The blaster pistol was out of reach, and the giant jaws of the Thraal's pincers were about to crush the life from him. To the Tomorrow People he shouted: 'Run! Jaunt! Save yourselves!' But they did not run, neither did they jaunt. John picked up a stone and hurled it with all the strength that he could tear from his sinews. It struck the Thraal on one of its watery yellow eyes. It was hardly enough to harm the creature but it had the desired effect. With a savage roar the Thraal turned on its tormentor. As it went for John, Raa managed to roll clear. With pain shooting through every fibre of his body, Raa dragged himself to where his blaster lay fallen among the rocks. 'This way, you overgrown cockroach!' John shouted at the Thraal. He and Elizabeth bombarded it with stones, luring it away from Raa. 'Take that!' Elizabeth added a heavy stone of her own. Suddenly John tripped, fell backwards and knocked his head. The Thraal reared its claws to strike. At that moment a blinding flash of heat and energy ripped the Thraal from end to end. John rolled to one side and the smouldering remains of the monster toppled to the ground where he had lain just a moment before. Raa was propped up on one elbow, smiling, his blaster pistol, smoking from a maximum power discharge, dangling from his fingers. 'You did it, Raa! You killed it!' John exclaimed. 'Yes,' said Raa. He was obviously thinking, for he had a lot to think about now there was time. The Tomorrow People ran into the Thraal's cave and discovered Tyso, bruised and shaken but otherwise unharmed. He was just regaining consciousness. When they came out again, Raa hobbled up to them. 'You're certainly no coward, John. I apologize for what I said.' 'Thank you, Raa,' 'I have learned something today,' Raa stated seriously. 'I think that we Kraatans have no need to fear you Earth people at all. You cannot kill, not even to save yourselves. I would not have believed it, if I had not seen it for myself. So, in spite of all your super powers I do not think you could stop us from conquering your Earth.' John and Elizabeth looked at one another. They had feared all along in case the Kraatans found out that they could not kill. 'There's no need for you to conquer anyone now, Raa, your people can settle here and have this world to yourselves.' 'Except for the Thraals,' said Raa. 'There aren't many of them, and you've already shown that you can kill them,' Elizabeth said. 'We shall see,' said Raa, 'what my father has to say.' (end of part 11) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: bookwyrm@sprynet.com Subject: TPFICT: archive update Date: 07 Mar 1998 22:58:51 -0800 (PST) The TPFICT archive has been updated with: Part 4 of "The Beta Wave" by Thomas Veil Part 6 of "The Monolith" by Mike Matott Parts 1-2 of "People Aren't What They Seem" by Twilight Parts 3-8 of "Perceptions" by Michele Mason ... Wendy bookwyrm@sprynet.com * http://www.xmission.com/~ladyslvr/ Listowner Tomorrow People Creative and Discussion Lists Asst. Listowner Sliders Creative & Discussion Lists at esosoft ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: c648193@showme.missouri.edu Date: 09 Mar 1998 21:28:49 -0600 (CST) I was wondering if anyone may have saved parts 9-16 of the visitor. They some how were erasied from computer. I would really appriciate it is some one might be able to email me the parts I am missing. Thanks for your help. Martha c648193@showme.missouri.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Shaun Owen Hately <075466@bud.cc.swin.edu.au> Subject: TPFICT: Re: your mail Date: 10 Mar 1998 15:34:21 +1100 (EST) On Mon, 9 Mar 1998 c648193@showme.missouri.edu wrote: > I was wondering if anyone may have saved parts 9-16 of the visitor. They > some how were erasied from computer. I would really appriciate it is some > one might be able to email me the parts I am missing. If you send me the chapters you need (as distinct from the parts) I'll mail them to you later tonight. Dreadnought ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: MEscutia Subject: TPFICT: Re: Date: 10 Mar 1998 00:13:27 EST Hmmm... Not to wander way off-topic here, but did anybody besides me notice the complete and utter lack of a subject line on Martha's post? Shouldn't the majordomo software at least add the TPFICT: header? Considering the username format they use at missouri.edu (and I'd like to know what drugs they were on when they came up with it), I almost thought it was spam. :/ -Mike -- Mike Escutia - mescutia@aol.com - ergh@eyrie.org http://www.eyrie.org/~ergh/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: The Invasion of Earth (12/12) Date: 10 Mar 1998 19:40:33 +1100 FOUR INTO THREE The Invasion of Earth by Roger Price First published 1975 by Pan Books Ltd, in association with Independant Television Publications Ltd. Copyright 1975 Roger Price ISBN 0 330 24294 6 Part 12/12 CHAPTER TEN They went straight back to the Kraatan Space Ship. Raa and Tyso were rushed to the sick bay. Between them the skilled Kraatan doctors and the Tomorrow People, with their psychokinetic powers, able to carry out operations and manipulate tissue without cutting into the body, soon had both patients mended and resting on two bunks some little distance apart. Stephen joined John and Elizabeth at Tyso's bunkside. Raa had a VIP visitor of his own, the Commander. Heavy with misgivings, the Tomorrow People watched father and son whisper together. 'I can guess what he's telling his dad right now.' 'What?' asked Stephen. 'While we were on Regus Five Raa found out about us not being able to kill. From that he worked out that we wouldn't really be able to stop the Kraatans from invading the Earth.' 'If that is what he's telling his old man we're in for a whole mess of trouble.' Commander Vlachtarn nodded slowly and raised his hooded eyes to stare at the Tomorrow People. 'This is it,' said John. 'Get ready to jaunt and all start thinking of a new plan to stop the Kraatans attacking without endangering their lives or killing them.' The Commander touched his son affectionately on the forehead and crossed over to the Tomorrow People. 'Raa has been telling me,' he began with what might have been a smile, but it was difficult to tell what Kraatan expressions really meant, 'that you showed great courage in tackling the Thrall even though your weapons were useless against it. I had been wondering why your hand guns were of such relatively low power. Now, of course, I know.' 'I hope it won't make any difference to us working together to get you settled in on Regus Five,' said John, without much hope. 'Only that it makes me ever more honoured that a race of such terrible power should consent to help us poor Kraatans and treat us as though we were your equals. Really I am glad that you are on our side, and not fighting against us.' 'Er . . . Yes.' John could not understand what was happening. The Commander was being more deferential than ever. Far from sneering at them he was positively bowing and scraping. 'I have heard what happened with the Thraal. I think we shall be able to cope with any others we meet, even without your help.' 'I wonder what Raa really told him. It can't have been what really happened,' Elizabeth telepathed. That's what they all thought. But they nodded and smiled to the Commander and kept a wary eye open for trickery, just in case the Kraatans had more guile than they credited them for. As soon as the Commander left the sick bay John hurried to Raa's side. 'You OK now?' 'Very well, thank you, John.' 'I wonder if you, er, told your father everything that happened on Regus Five.' 'Nearly everything, John, why?' 'Just that,' John trod his speech warily, 'if you didn't tell him quite the .. . . er . . . truth, perhaps we ought to know what you said so that we can tell the same story if anyone asks us, that's all,' John finished in a rush. 'I didn't tell my father any lies, John. What I told him was the truth as I see it.' 'Mind telling me what is the truth as you see it?' 'I told him that you had no use for weapons that kill because you had slain the monster with the power of your mind.' 'Raa, I am grateful you told him that. But it was an outrageous lie.' 'Not at all,' Raa said, and this time John could see that he really was smiling. 'You thought that I was talking about the Thraal; so, I imagine, did my father. That's not the monster I meant at all. I meant the monster of war and killing. The monster that wiped out our planet. The monster that cannot be killed with weapons, but that we Kraatans have got to learn to kill, too, if we are going to survive.' It took all the power the Kraatan ship could scrape together to work Stephen's make-shift Matter Transporter. But work it did, and soon the huge bulk of the ship was bedded firmly into the soil of Regus Five, never to fly again. Not that the Kraatans minded. They were too busy building themselves a new world. In time they did learn that there were more kinds of courage than just courage in battle. The rebel Captain Backthurn worked off his debt and found enough action to keep him happy, hunting down the Thraals. Commander Vlachtarn learned to rule wisely as well as command, and in time he was ready to hand over to his son, who became the first elected leader the Kraatans had ever known, and the first to be actively opposed to war and all unnecessary killing. (end of part 12 and the end of the story) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: A Midseason's Dream, Part 00/07 Date: 11 Mar 1998 15:03:26 -0600 (CST) A Midseason's Dream An Original Series Story by Beth Epstein Part 0 The Tomorrow People are the creation of Roger Price, the great and powerful, and the property of Thames Television (and maybe Pearson Television?). No copyright infringement, on the characters, or the situations and dialogue lifted from "A Man For Emily" is intended. On the other hand, James and Juliana, as well as the rest of the stuff not directly lifted from the episode, are my creation. Please do not post this story to any other list or any web page other than the Tomorrow People Creative List Archive without my express permission. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and was concieved last spring during finals and packing and having just rotted my brain on three papers at once.... Anyway, thanks go to Shaun Hately and Maria Sloughter for reading this in its earliest draft form even though I forgot to spell check, and encouraging me to actually finish the darn thing. Especialy to Shaun, as I might not have even had a complete 2nd draft to send to Maria otherwise. Thanks also go out to Shaun (again:), as well as Michelle Mason, for the beta reads and in jokes. And to Wendy Kelley for the tapes. Finally to Jason Moss and Ben Patterson, neither of whom will probably ever see this, but their critiques did get me through an otherwise horrid creative writing class, so they deserve some acknowledgment. Also thanks to everyone who's commented on my stories: it's good to know that there are at least three of you reading them. Also, thanks for pointing out where I'm messing up, I won't make those mistakes again (all new mistakes, sure, but not those;). As always, feedback is appreciated, espeically as finals are coming up. I'll try to post weekly, but I'm traveling next Wensday and will be still out of town the following week, so parts 2 and 3 may be a day or two late. Enough babble, on with the story. End Part 0 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: A Midseason's Dream, Part 01/07 Date: 11 Mar 1998 15:04:11 -0600 (CST) A Midseason's Dream An Original Series story by Beth Epstein Part 1 "Hello, hello," Chris said as he walked into the lab. "Hello, Chris. We haven't seen you in awhile, how's it going?" John frowned. Chris had been so busy taking classes at business school that they hadn't seen him since he'd helped John clear up the whole Colonel Masters mess. "Oh, fine, fine. I just got a couple tickets to the theater school's production of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ to try to impress one of my classmates. She ditched me at the last minute for an athlete," Chris sighed. "Anyway, I had no real interest in a night of thee's and thou's on my own, so I was wondering if you or Liz wanted the tickets." "Are you sure, Chris?" Elizabeth asked from the jaunting pad where she had just arrived. "That's one of Shakespeare's best plays. It's very different than reading them for an English class." She was hoping the younger of the Harding brothers would expand his horizons a bit, so he wouldn't get sucked into the trouble that Ginge had finally succumbed to. "Go, have a good time," Chris insisted, "I'm really not that keen on it anyway. You could always foist them on Stephen and Tyso if you feel like introducing young people to Shakespeare." "As you would say, 'not blooming likely'," Elizabeth laughed. "They've been permitted to go camping all on their lonesome, and they wouldn't interrupt it for the Kulthan themselves returning to take over the world again, yet alone a simple play by Shakespeare." "It's only in Mulberry Wood, about an hour out of town," John reassured Chris when the other's face grew concerned. "It's not like it's Peeri, or somewhere. Nice quiet little town; I'd rather like to get a cottage there when I settle down, start a family." Chris laughed. "You, a wife and kids? That'll be the day!" John balled up a piece of paper and threw it at Chris. * * * "I really wish that we'd managed to talk Chris into coming to see this," Liz sighed as they stood in line waiting to get in. "You can't expect Chris to completely change, Elizabeth. He's actually trying to better himself and plan for the future; that's better than we ever convinced Ginge to do." "It's probably what happened to Ginge that got Chris into school in the first place. And I'd really hate to see that happen to Chris," Elizabeth replied. John handed the usher their tickets, and the young man led them to their seats. John sighed, shaking his head. "You can't save the whole world, Elizabeth. You'd do yourself a world of good if you'd stop trying so hard." "Sounds just like you," a lady sitting next to them elbowed a young man on her other side. "Thanks Juliana, tell the whole world, why don't you?" Juliana tossed back her red hair and laughed, her hazel eyes sparkling like crystals. "What, you can't stand a couple of strangers knowing that you can't stand to see anyone hurt and can't leave well enough alone when your help's not wanted?" 'Pretty and a sense of humor!' John was beginning to find Juliana rather... attractive. "So is your friend the same way?" she asked, leaning in as if she were saying something much more private than a shared ribbing session. 'And she's *talking* to me! I can't believe it.... Don't just sit there thinking, you idiot, say *something*.' "Oh, that sounds like Liz all right," John laughed. "I have to keep her out of trouble sometimes, but after all, what are *friends* for?" [Be a little subtle, why don't you, John?] [This is hard enough without your criticism, Liz.] "Oh, and I suppose you're one of those types who tends to dominate a relationship? Always wanting to be on top and that sort of thing?" Something in that statement caused John's cheeks to grow hot. Somehow, he didn't let it get to him. "Maybe, maybe not." [John, you're flirting!] [Oh, good, for a moment there I thought I was muddling it.] * * * "Ulch, how can you eat them like that?" Tyso's face scrunched up as he watched Stephen blow out a burning marshmallow, and then eat it, charred crust and all. "I'm hungry," Stephen replied, his voice garbled by the sticky confection. "Don't talk with your mouth full." It was clear that Tyso was trying to imitate John-- and doing quite a good job of it. [John, you're flirting!] The stray telepathic thought caused the two boys to exchange glances. Usually, as a courtesy, the Tomorrow People ignored such oversights. However, Stephen had a bad feeling about this. [Liz, are you all right?] [Fine, Stephen, John's just making a spectacle of himself in public, that's all.] [I am doing nothing of the sort!] [Anyway, sorry about that, I was only trying to go three feet.] There was a hint of anger in Liz's thoughts as she broke the contact. "D'you think he was flirting with Liz or someone else?" Tyso inquired. "Probably someone else, but if it was Liz, and something comes of it, they'll tell us. Why? Are you worried?" Tyso shrugged. "Well, don't be, the worst that could happen is that they end up being a little kissy-faced around us." Tyso tried to picture John exhibiting such behavior and failed miserably. * * * "...and we left the statue in the concert hall!" Juliana laughed heartily as the four sat talking over coffee after the show. Elizabeth laughed as well. "You two certainly have had your share of exploits." "I've never heard of anything like it!" John sat in amazement. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder if he was amazed by their practical jokes, or simply at Juliana. "That's because you never went to University." "Then what do you do?" Juliana asked. "I'm an inventor. I've invented a switch for a type of computer that will probably revolutionize information availability, and... well, a few other things that are, well, rather technical..." Mercifully, James interrupted John before the Tomorrow Person had to find a way to circumnavigate talking about jaunting belts and AE suits. "So have you two known each other long?" "Yes, well, no, not really," John laughed. "It seems like much longer, but it's really only been about a year." "How on earth did you meet if you didn't study together?" John's mind raced. That one was a little tricky. The truth was probably not to be divulged, even if it would be believed. "Well, I was on teaching practice..." Liz began. "And my little brother was in her class. We're quite close, and he talked about me so much that Elizabeth was thoroughly convinced he had an imaginary brother." "Would you believe a fourteen year old boy who told you that his eighteen year old brother took him swimming after school most days?" "You should have *seen* the look on her face when Stephen introduced us." "It was a very *mind opening* experience," Liz added. [Must you make horrid puns like that?] [Sorry, I couldn't help it.] Elizabeth yawned sleepily. "I think I'd better call it a night." "I've got an early marketing meeting tomorrow," John added. "I'll take you home." "I could walk you..." James offered. "Thanks, but I live halfway across town, and someone should walk Juliana back, as John's going in the opposite direction anyway." John glared at Elizabeth but didn't say anything on the subject, merely suggested that, "We should do this again sometime." "Sure," Juliana scribbled a phone number on a napkin. "Call me." "You may as well call me at her room," James grinned at Elizabeth. "I'm bad at remembering to call and I'm always around Juliana's place more than my own." [You've fixed me up with a womanizer, I hope you're pleased with yourself,] Liz teased. It was all John could do to keep from rolling his eyes as he took the napkin from Juliana. "Thanks. See you soon." * * * A week later, the four were set to take in a film. Liz had practically insisted on a double date when she talked to James-- seemingly more to humor John than for her own reasons. Not that John really blamed her, James had been a little... much, but Liz could've at least been on time. [Come on, Elizabeth, we don't want to be late,] John 'pathed nervously. [Keep your pants on, John, I'm not quite ready yet,] Liz snapped on a little bit too broad of a telepathic band. * * * [Keep your pants on, John, I'm not quite ready yet,] Liz's "voice" floated across Stephen and Tyso's shakes at the chippy. Stephen and Tyso exchanged glances. "Think it's worth 'pathing back?" Tyso whispered. [John?] Stephen responded with action rather than words. [What, Stephen?] John replied, irritably. 'We're going to be late!' [What on Earth are you and Elizabeth up to?] [Nothing that concerns you,] was the clipped reply. Stephen and Tyso stirred their drinks, fretting. While John and Elizabeth were entitled to privacy, it seemed rather insulting that they wouldn't even tell the younger Tomorrow People that they were seeing each other. "They might tell us tomorrow," Tyso said quietly. End Part 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Thomas Veil Subject: TPFICT: The Beta Wave (5/5) Date: 11 Mar 1998 21:39:01 -0800 (PST) The Beta Wave Part 5/5 "It goes no farther than this. It all ends, right here, right now." Scully Chapter 5: Lisa looked around at the group assembled on the beach. Ben and Rob had just emerged from the water. Lisa’s mother was also on the beach standing by the two that Ben had earlier identified as David and Tiana. Jen was also there, standing by Kevin and another girl who appeared to be a little younger that him. Of course, she could find out the girls name, but it had been so long and her shields were so firmly in place that she was wary to lower them. She waved away Adam’s hand and stood up on her own. “I think that I’d like to know why you thought it necessary to bring me here.” “Would you rather that we leave you to the aliens? We can take you back if that’s what you want,” Tiana sneered. “Knock it off,” Kevin told her. “Why didn’t you let us know where you were, Lisa?” “Don’t you get it,” Mrs. Davis said. “She would have been in constant danger from Lady Mulvaney and everyone else like her. We had to hide. Luckily General Damon was willing to help us set up new identities. But now it looks like we’ll have to move on again.” *And what about you, Linda? Or should I say Lisa?* Ben signed. Linda was shocked for a moment before she realized that one of the others must have been sending their conversation via telepathy. *I don’t understand the question,* She answered. *What do you mean?* *Do you want to run and hide, or would you rather stand and fight these things?* *I’m in on this fight. After that... well that remains to be seen.* ******** “You’re sure about the item that was taken, Frank?” General Damon asked. “I did the count myself. There’s one less than there should be. But how could something that size be snuck out? Everyone who knows the clearance codes to get in is still here.” “I’ve been going over security. It think I know how. I think they snuck it out in the trash. The usual man called in sick, we checked it out with the company and everything, but my guess is that someone, most likely Mulvaney, hired the replacement to smuggle it out. “I think that the time has come to swallow my pride.” Damon picked up the phone and pressed a button on the speed-dial. “Hello, Megabyte? I need you to give Adam a message for me....” ******** “So what do we do now?” Jade asked. “How do we get rid of the aliens? We can’t turn everyone in the town into Tomorrow People, so what do we do?” “I’ve been thinking about that,” Adam said. “The alien that took over Ben claimed that this group was capable of controlling more advanced hosts than the previous group. Now that group was capable of taking over ordinary humans, and I don’t know about you, but I can only think of one group on this planet who would fit into that category. Us.” “So you’re suggesting that it wasn’t because he’s a Tomorrow Person that David was spared?” Kevin said. “Then why couldn’t it take over him completely? What caused its pain?” “That was my first reaction too,” Adam answered. “Then I remembered the tests that General Damon ran on the empty pods taken from the first strike. According to the results of his tests the pods give off a constant sound at a low pitch and a minimal volume that is just on the edge of our auditory register. We don’t even realize it’s there unless we concentrate on it. We assumed that it was some sort of method of communication, but what if we were wrong? What if that noise serves a different purpose?” “Like what?” “We need oxygen to breathe, but maybe since they’re non-corporeal they need some other form of sustenance. Like sound.” “So you think they couldn’t take over Ben because he’s deaf?” Rob asked. “Exactly. Now all we need to do is figure out how to use it to our advantage.” “I have an idea,” David said. “These things are relying on human hearing. I’ve heard that certain frequencies of sound can render the auditory system useless.” His idea was interrupted by a telepathic message from Megabyte. ^Adam,^ Megabyte thought, ^my dad want’s to talk to you immediately. There’s been a break-in at WorldEx. It’s something you should know about.^ ^I’ll be there right away,^ Adam answered. “You guys see if you can figure out how to stop these things. I’d better see what the general wants.” ******** The flash of light supprised Melissa for a moment, but she quickly recovered to see that Ami had arrived. “I needed someone to talk to,” Ami said. “You were right. I can’t just pretend that I’m all right.” Melissa nodded in understanding. “So you’ve decided to come out of your shell?” “It’s just that I’ve always been afraid to let people know how I really feel,” Ami explained. “What if he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” “Don’t bother with the explanations. They aren’t necessary.” “Then what is?” “An apology. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ can make up for a thousand explanations. And I wouldn’t be to worried about Megabyte not feeling the same way. If he didn’t care about you would he have spent all this time trying to talk to you?” “You’re right, Melissa. And about earlier, I’m sorry.” ******** “You wanted to see me General?” Adam asked. “Yes. What all did Megabyte tell you?” “Only that there was a break-in and that it was something we should know about. What happened? Did someone get files on us? Did you find out who it was?” Damon looked out the window for a moment before turning back to Adam. “You were right,” he said. “Someone high up in WorldEx is a traitor. Probably working for Mulvaney, but there’s no way to be certain. Although I doubt that too many others would be able to pull it off. “Early this afternoon, someone hacked into our computer system and neutralized several of the security precautions in Sector 5, the area where we keep potentially dangerous substances for study. Whoever it was took one of the pods from the incident several years ago. They managed to sneak it out without getting caught. “I’ve been looking over the records. Only six employees who were here today know the clearance codes to get into that area, and none were supposed to be there. Of those six, all but one were present in the building the day Kevin brought you the antidote to Mulvaney’s serum.” Adam considered what he had just been told before deciding what to do. “General,” he said, “I think you should know about something that’s going on in Iowa....” ******** “Come on,” Lisa shouted. “We don’t even know that this will work!” David turned to her. “If you’ve got a better idea then feel free to let me know. Otherwise try to do something constructive. These are your friends we’re trying to save.” “So where do we set up at?” Jen asked. “We,” Rob said. “I didn’t realize that you were involved in this.” “I’m involved in everything that you are,” she said. “Besides that, Ben is my friend too. We won’t let him down. Now will someone please answer my question?” “We’ll probably get the best reception from the highest point possible,” Tiana said. ^That would be the water tower,^ Rob thought and signed at the same time so everyone could understand him. ^It’s designed so that the top of it is higher than any place that water gets pumped to, so that should do it.^ “All right,” David said. “I’ll go talk to Damon and ask for the necessary equipment and let him know to have a retrieval unit ready. Even if this works, it could be several hours before the aliens leave their hosts. They should have plenty of time to get here.” ******** David and Adam checked everything over a final time before they teleported out. It had taken nearly two hours to find the exact frequency to use. Rob had volunteered to test it out. The effects wore off after about an hour and they had had other things to prepare while they waited to make sure that the machine wouldn’t make anyone permanently deaf. They had used the time to organize the amplifiers and other equipment so that it could be carried easily. They had managed to fit everything into two backpacks, and since they didn’t want to risk teleporting to the top of the tower they would go to the base and climb from there. As the two strongest members of the party, Adam and Rob had been chosen to ascend the tower. The pulse would be amplified enough to be effective for about a two mile radius, more than enough to take in the entire town and anyone that was nearby. “Let’s do it,” Adam said. Everyone nodded, fit their headsets which would block out all sound in place, and they teleported. Adam grabbed Rob, Tiana got Jen, and due to the fact that she refused to use her powers Kevin brought Lisa. Upon arrival they immediately surrounded the tower. Adam and Rob slung their backpacks into place and began to climb. The others spread out in a protective circle around the tower, everyone but David pulling out the guns loaded with tranq darts that General Damon had supplied them with. It wouldn’t be long before the aliens realized that they had a group of un-assimilated beings in their midst. Ben reached out with his mind to the nearest host he could find. He knew where to look for the alien, as one had been in his mind and he knew full well that privacy wasn’t a real issue. He touched the hosts mind in the right spot to feel the aliens thoughts, and immediately drew back before he could be detected. ^We’ve been noticed, but they haven’t figured out what to do with us yet,^ he thought to the group. ^We’re almost to the top,^ Adam thought to them. They could tell he was winded. ^Why did they have to make this thing so tall?^ ^Relax,^ Jade thought. ^It could be worse. At least if you fall you can teleport. Rob can’t.^ ^Just keep going up, Adam,^ Tiana told him. ^They’re watching us and I don’t think they like it.^ ^In that case, I think it’s my turn.^ David thought. ^Everyone get back. I’m not sure how big I can make this thing.^ The other Tomorrow People got Jen and Lisa and closed the circle to the edge of the water tower. David let his thoughts drift to electricity. He located the nearest strong source, a power line about 100 feet away. He had to be careful not to let the electricity touch the tower or Adam and Rob would get a nasty jolt. He drew the electricity through him and poured it out around him along the ground in a circle. He broke it off just enough to let it pass the edge of the tower. He could see the others shift their feet as the small shock passed through them. Once the circle surrounded the tower, he checked on the location of the aliens. Now came the hard part. When they neared the circle of power he thought of what he wanted the electricity to do. He raised his arm to aid his concentration, and as he did the circle grew into a wall about eight feet tall. For any of the aliens to pass through the barrier it would shock the host enough to knock him or her unconscious for at least long enough for Adam and Rob to finish. ******** Atop the tower they began to set the transmitter. Luckily there was very little in the way of wind. ^How much time will it take,^ Tiana thought. I’m not sure how long David can hold out. He’s never channeled this much power before, but I can already feel it starting to take something out of him. When the barrier collapses we won’t be able to hold out for long. We don’t have nearly enough darts to knock out everyone in town.^ ^We’re working as fast as we can. Two minutes at the most.^ ^Two minutes may be too late.” Adam acknowledged her as he started securing the speakers to the tower. Rob had already secured the transmitter and was pulling wires out of his backpack and began connecting the system. ******** David was weakening. He could feel it. He knew that he couldn’t hold the barrier much longer. He had never drawn this much power in before, usually relying solely on his body’s natural charge to provide the needed energy. But this was hard work. And yet, Adam hadn’t given the all clear signal yet. The people of the town were still possessed. He knew it was coming. His powers were weakening. The barrier passed out of existence as he collapsed. The others, except Tiana who had moved to catch him, began firing as soon as the barrier fell. But he knew they couldn’t hold out for long. Tiana put him down gently before taking her gun and joining the fray. They were admittedly poor shots, but by now the were surrounded and it was hard to miss. Even as the aliens lessened in numbers they began to close the circumference. And more of them kept arriving to counter the threat. David could do nothing but look on in terror as they took out pods. Pods that were about to open. ******** Rob connected the last of the cables as Adam attempted to hook the portable generator up to the system. He fumbled around for a couple seconds before finding the correct wire. After checking to make sure that Rob was clear, Adam turned on the generator, then began to power up the transmitter. ^Here it comes,^ he thought to his friends as he hit the switch. ******** Just when Jade was sure that they had lost, Adam sent the clear signal. She watched in awe as all of the pods jerked shut as quickly as possible. The townspeople began to grab their heads in pain and collapsed. She looked over at David and Tiana. She was going to get him home to rest. She was scheduled for the first shift of watch on the transmitter along with Adam, Rob, and Jen. Hopefully the WorldEx team would get there soon. She couldn’t wait to go home and get a good night’s sleep. ******** April 29: I think I’m starting to get my energy back. I stretched myself to my limits yesterday. What started as a new break out ended up being much more than that. Adam and Kevin found Lisa, their long-lost Tomorrow Person who abandoned them. I’m not sure what she’ll decide to do, move on again and assume a new identity or stay with us. Us. Funny how now that term is starting to seem appropriate to describe the Tomorrow People. We’re starting to become one unit now. No longer is it the islanders and the cave-dwellers, them and us. Just us. I wonder if it was this crisis that brought us together. Who knows. It seems Ami and Melissa got together on their own without a crisis. Except for maybe Ami and Megabyte, but I don’t feel like getting into that right now. It’s strange how we all seem to fit together. It seems that wherever one of us is lacking, another makes up for it. Not just with our powers, but with our personalities. Kevin, for example, for the longest time lacked the courage to stand up to our enemies. Jade on the other hand has the tendency to not let anything phase her. And whenever she gets too out of hand, Adam’s patience and tendency to think things out comes in handy. And as far as our abilities go, Ben seems to be best at the one thing that I can hardly do at all, reading the minds of non-telepaths. It’s amazing how it all works out in the end. Jon’s grandfather pulled through, but the doctors say it’s just a matter of time now. He’ll probably be spending a lot of time with his family for a while. And speaking of family, I’ll probably never hear the end of it from Shauna about not taking her to Iowa. Never mind that I’m afraid that if she’s too sure she’ll break out she won’t be scared enough to actually do it. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Tiana was worried about me last night, but then I’d probably feel wrong if she wasn’t. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Or without you. I’m finally finding a place where I fit. I think I know what I’m meant to be doing. I have friends and family, more than just you. When I was being shuffled around from place to place I never had anything but you, except for the rare times where I actually liked the place, like when I was with Will. Maybe I’ll pop in to see her some time. Wouldn’t that be a shocker. But I know I can’t. You’re the only part of my past that I can keep with me in the present. I suppose that’s one of the nice things about having a journal. ******* “Is this satisfactory for you?” “Yes, I should be able to extract the necessary materials for my experiments from this. And as I said before, this looks like a fascinating line of work.” “How long will it take you? I understand that your previous experiments took very little time.” “Well, Lady Mulvaney, this time I’m dealing with something of a much more complex nature. I will have to do some genetic mapping. What strikes me as odd is the fact that one of the samples is so different from the others. I may be able to exploit that to our advantage.” “And this,” she said indicating the pod. “I hope you know that I went to a great deal of trouble to acquire this. I put one of my spies at considerable risk to obtain it for you.” “I should be able to develop an immunity to these creatures. But that isn’t my priority project. The DNA experiments are.” “Then why did you want me to get it now. We could have waited till a more opportune time.” “I needed to assure myself that you were capable of what you claimed. And you are. I’m not even sure that my previous employer could have gotten through Damon’s security.” “I don’t like games. How long before we start seeing results, Anton?” “I’d guess at least ten or eleven months.” “You have nine.” ******** Ben needed to see Linda... Lisa. He was sure that he could get her to stay, even if it was just until she graduated next month. As he turned the corner he saw the ‘For Sale’ sign on their front lawn. He walked up to the front door and peered in. The house was empty. ******** Megabyte sat and looked out at the ocean. Another day, another disaster averted. So far the Tomorrow People had a perfect record. But he didn’t feel perfect. A flash of light interrupted his reverie. He turned, expecting to see Adam or Ben, but it was Ami. “Look, Megabyte,” she said. “I know that I said some things to you... things that you probably can’t forgive. I just want you to know... I’m sorry.” With that she turned to leave. Megabyte quickly rose and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t go. I’m sorry about lying. But...” “No,” she said. “No explanations. They aren’t necessary.” “If you want to leave now, I’d understand.” “Marmaduke Allen Damon, why on earth would I want to do that?” she asked as she smiled. Megabyte felt the relief wash over him and smiled back. “Aren’t you going to tell me not to call you Marmaduke?” she asked with a laugh. Megabyte looked into her eyes and replied, “Coming from you, it doesn’t sound so bad. The sun’s going to rise pretty soon. It’s beautiful over the ocean.” “Why don’t we sit down while we wait.” Megabyte smiled. They sat and talked and watched the sun come up. He put his arm around her and they sat together and saw the colors dancing on the water. End Part 5. === Thomas Veil *A rough whimper of insanity* _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Thomas Veil Subject: TPFICT: The Beta Wave: End Notes Date: 11 Mar 1998 21:41:11 -0800 (PST) There's several things I've forgotten to do that I should mention. So I'll get right down to it. Thanks to Shaun Hately for Beta reading for me. And thanks to everyone whose sent me comments. I really appreciate it. I also realized that I should mention where my quotes are from. All the quotes from The Beta Wave come from The X-Files episode "Ice." The quotes from The Serum Effect come from the following episodes of Babylon 5 in order: War Without End 1 Into the Fire Believers Conflicts of Interest The Summoning In the future, I will probably reference quotes in a similar manner. Please send all comments to hiddenagenda@rocketmail.com === Thomas Veil *A rough whimper of insanity* _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michael Matott Subject: TPFICT: Monolith Part 7/8 Date: 12 Mar 1998 11:43:44 -0500 Nearing the home stretch. I'm on spring break next week, so the next part will come out when I get back, a week from Sunday. Comments/questions to matottm@alleg.edu. (It's nice to know at least two people are reading this. :=) How about the rest of you?) mike **************************************************** Lisa held her breath. Two guards walked past. She started breathing again. She was still in the ventilation shaft. She'd found a screen overlooking a hallway. Now all she had to do was get out. Lisa rolled over and brought her legs up to her chest. She kicked out as hard as she could. The screen gave a little, but remained secured. Lisa listened for any signs that someone had heard. When it seemed safe, she kicked at the screen again. This time the hinges gave way. The screen was still screwed in , however. Lisa gave another kick and this time was rewarded with a loud bang as the screws popped out and the screen fell to the ground. Lisa took a deep breath. Her legs tingled from her attempts at kicking out the screen. Other than a slight scratch on her ankle, she seemed unharmed. Lisa pushed her legs out of the opening and sat on the edge of the air duct. The floor was about seven feet below. Not a bad jump. So she jumped. Lisa's legs gave out under her when she landed. Pins and needles stabbed at her calves. She forced herself to stand. The stabbing sensation faded slowly. 'Now to find Adam and a way out of here,' she thought. Lisa went the opposite direction as the guards she'd just seen. She found herself in a long hallway with six doors on each side. 'Maybe one of these leads to Adam,' she thought. That was when she noticed one of the doorknobs on the right side rattling. 'Maybe I should check that out,' she thought. She put her hand on the doorknob. It stopped rattling. She opened the door slowly inward. ****************************************************** "Hey," Megabyte hissed, "I think someone's coming." "Then stop rattling the doorknob," Greg hissed back. "Oh," Megabyte took his hand off the door. "Get ready to grab the door. I'll take care of whoever comes in." The door opened slowly. Megabyte was blinded by the bright light flooding in from the hall. He could just make out the silhouette in the doorway. Megabyte rushed at the person and got one hand over the figure's mouth and the other wrapped around in a chest hold. Megabyte planned to shove the guy into the closet so that he and Greg could escape. The 'man,' as Megabyte thought of him, had other ideas. A heel crashed down onto his foot. He relaxed his hold a bit and muffled a grunt that was quickly expelled, along with his breath, as an elbow came crashing into his stomach just below his ribs. Megabyte let go of his assailant. By this time his eyes had adjusted to the light. "Lisa?" he said, shocked. "Megabyte?!" Lisa said, struggling to keep from laughing. "We came to rescue you," he said. "Well what were you doing in a broom closet?" "We, um, teleported here and, um, well. we were locked in," Megabyte said sheepishly. "Some rescue," Lisa laughed. "Who's 'we'? Are Jade and Ami here? Or Kevin?" "Hi," Greg said quietly. Lisa turned and spotted him holding the door. "Hi," Lisa said, "It's good to see you up." "Thanks," he said. "I owe you and Adam a lot." "Speaking of Adam," Megabyte said, "shouldn't we be trying to find him?" "Follow me," Greg said. "I think I know how we can find him." ****************************************************** Megabyte popped his head around the corner, then quickly pulled back. "There are two guys sitting outside the door. One's reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. The other one's just staring at the wall." "What do we do?" Greg asked. "Be bold," Lisa said. "Just back me up." She turned around the corner and started walking towards the two men. "Excuse me," she said, "but I think your boss may be looking for me." Lisa bolted before the two men got up, pulling some type of gun out from under their coats. The men turned the corner to find Lisa standing in the middle of the hallway with her hands up. "Don't move a muscle," the smoking man said. "Wouldn't dream of it," Lisa said. "You might want to look out behind you, though." "Yeah right, that's the oldest trick in the book," the other man said. There was a loud thud as Megabyte and Greg hit the men on the head with two metal garbage cans they'd found in the alcove they'd been hiding in. "Can't say I didn't warn them," Lisa said. The three teenagers ran to the room that Greg said held the computer files. The door was not lucked. Greg opened the door and very carefully looked inside. "It's empty," he said, throwing the door open. "All right, let me at those babies," Megabyte said. "I'm glad I knew you were talking about the computers, Megabyte," Lisa said. Megabyte ignored her. He was already engrossed in the mainframe, trying to find ways around its security controls. It would've been much easier with his psychic ability to manipulate electronics, but his skill on computers was competent without any special abilities. It may have taken a bit longer, but he did crack the codes to get into the network files. "I'm in," he said, after what had felt like hours. "You did that in fifteen minutes!" Greg said. "I must be getting slow," Megabyte replied. "What have you found?" Lisa asked. "There's a file on each of us. We're numbered according to a security videotape of the incident at the Wittendale Institute. They've got pictures attached from the camera. Here's one while you, Adam, and Ami were fighting against the parasite." "It doesn't show anything," Lisa said. "It's just me and Ami standing a couple of feet away from Adam. There was a yellow glow. I know I saw it." "Hey, the camera didn't pick it up. I don't know why." "Maybe the energy is only something a telepath can see?" Greg suggested. "I don't know," Megabyte said, "but it's not that important. There's more stuff here." "Like what?" Lisa asked. "Like a pretty complete folder on Adam. Somehow they've gotten a lot of info out of him. It looks like they drugged him five or fifty ways. Jeez, I've never heard of half of these chemicals." "That one's for paranoia," Lisa said, "And that's for anxiety. They're giving him a lot of sedatives, but it looks like they're mixing them with psychoactive drugs." "Why would they do that?" "I don't know," Lisa said. "Unless they were trying to make him psychotic." "Oh no," Greg said, "I think they might be trying to override his conditioning." "What conditioning?" Megabyte asked. "The conditioning against killing," he said. "Megabyte, Lisa, I think they're trying to turn Adam into an assassin." *************************************** End Part 7 Questions/comments to matottm@alleg.edu (Please don't make me beg again. ;-) ) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: bookwyrm@sprynet.com Subject: TPFICT: archive update Date: 14 Mar 1998 15:42:28 -0800 (PST) The archive has been updated with: Part 5 of "The Beta Wave" by Thomas Veil the completed HTML file will be uploaded next week Parts 0-1 of "A Midseason's Dream" by Beth Epstein Part 7 of "The Monolith" by Mike Matott ... Wendy bookwyrm@sprynet.com * http://www.xmission.com/~ladyslvr/ Listowner Tomorrow People Creative and Discussion Lists Asst. Listowner Sliders Creative & Discussion Lists at esosoft ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: TPFICT: Round Robin #3 (Part 11/?) Date: 15 Mar 1998 12:32:07 +1100 Round Robin #3 Part 11 by Shaun Hately The wounded Galt looked at his clone, "Revenge? This is about revenge? I do not believe it. How can you feel that way? What I did was necessary. We have to understand these people and that requires extreme measures at times, certainly. But I hardly think you can blame them for resisting me." "Those young people took everything from us. I wasn't there, perhaps, but I remember. I was the chief scientist on the Anglo/American Teleporter project and when those children escaped from us, it destroyed my career." "We're not doing so badly. We're working our way back up the ladder. Yes, it's slow. But it is working." "It's not fast enough for me. Maybe living 40 years has taught you patience. I haven't been around that long. I want success now." "Even outside the law?" asked the original Galt. "Even if it means kidnapping and murder?" "Whatever it takes." "Then God help us all. Because you are insane." His clone laughed. "Perhaps insanity is how the common man perceives true genius. And besides, you haven't always obeyed the law, yourself." "When I broke the law, I did it under what I believed were legal orders from my superiors. I didn't know the orders were faked." "You didn't care, you mean. You knew. You managed to convince yourself that the orders were legal, but in your heart, you knew they weren't. You can't deny that." "I . . ." "You can't deny it to me. I remember. So don't use that holier than thou attitude on me. It doesn't wash, old man. I am you, and you are me. We are genetically identical. Perhaps we don't share the same values. But we do share the same mind and the same memories." A dark and malevolent grin spread across his features. "Perhaps the difference is that we don't share the guilt. That's one advantage to being a clone. I can't be held responsible for actions that occurred before my gestation. And I won't be. I'll do what I need to do to achieve my success. And I won't let anyone stand in my way. Not even you." He reached down and pressed a button on the intercom. "Security. This is Professor Galt. I want you to take my brother into custody immediately. He's with me in my office now." He looked across the desk at the other Galt. "Nothing personal." ~~~~~~~~~~ Yours Without Wax, |'Don't knock mutant freaks. That's how Dreadnought |evolution works. Something new appears / |that might turn out to be just what the o=== ======================- |species needs.' \ |- Stephanie Tolan 'Welcome to the Ark' drednort@eisa.net.au | http://www.eisa.net.au/~drednort/thelab.html ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (10/25) Date: 14 Mar 1998 21:07:31 -0500 Perceptions (10/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Ten The insistent ringing of the telephone literally dragged Richie from the depths of sleep. Eyes partially open, he listened to the repeated chiming, his mind trying to come to grips with the reason why his answering machine didn't appear to be functioning. As that thought formed and coalesced, reality also began to take shape, and he remembered where he was. And why he was waiting on a telephone call. Rolling over, Richie clumsily dragged the telephone from the cradle and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?" "Hey, Rich. Did I wake you up?" Joe sounded far too chipper for it to be the middle of the night. Then again, in Seacouver, it wasn't the middle of the night. "No, I only sleep when the sun's up, Joe." Joe chuckled. "One good wake up call deserves another. I've been talking to some of our people in London." The young Immortal shook off the last remnants of sleep. This could be the information he had been looking for. Sitting up, he turned on the lamp, forcing himself to focus on Joe's words. "And?" "She's cute. But don't you think she's a little young, Richie?" The heat that Richie felt rise to his cheeks made him glad that the Watcher couldn't see him. He didn't even have to think about asking what "she" Joe referred to. Simply thinking about her, remembering her smile and her quiet melodical voice was enough to make him smile like an idiot. "She's eighteen," Richie defended himself. "She's not jail bait." "And you, my friend, are twenty-three. I never thought you were the sort to take an interest in younger women." Richie decided not to dignify the man's teasing with a response. Besides, Joe's reminder made him a little uncomfortable. He kept trying to tell himself the same thing-- she was too young, too inexperienced, but the more he repeated the litany, the more it seemed to have a reverse effect-- he wanted to see more of her. Ami Jackson intrigued him, and in many ways, she seemed a great deal older than her eighteen years. Still, if he didn't find out what Maris was up to, there wouldn't be anything for Joe to tease him about. "Tell me what you found out, Joe." "Nothing that makes a lot of sense." Joe paused and Richie could hear the shuffling of papers on the other end of the telephone. "Maris Keillor was born in 1371 in what is now Ireland. She spent her entire life helping others, although she does seem to adopt some rather fanatical beliefs at times." "In English, Joe." "She gets obsessed. And this is when her 'talents' as an assassin seem to come in. She has dedicated a great portion of her life to the pursuing Ireland's freedom. She also made a great many strikes against Germany in the World Wars. And a few times, her fanatical devotion has led her to side with what we would call the 'bad guys.' "Anyway, about three to four years ago, she began working for an international government organization that technically doesn't exist. The Anglo-American Alliance of Paranormal Investigation." Richie repeated the words slowly to himself. "The what?" "They're a secretly funded agency that investigates paranormal phenomenon." "Paranormal phenomenon? You mean like spaceships and ghosts?" "Actually, the Anglo-American Alliance is mostly military funded. They are more interested in things which can be used on a military level-- mind reading, clairvoyance, telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation--" Richie chuckled. "Sounds like these people could write a few episodes of the X-Files." "It might sound off the wall, Richie. But billions of dollars have gone into this organization. Someone out there clearly believes that these things are possible." "Hey, I know that, Joe. When I was a kid, I got really into a lot of that stuff. Man, I used to think that it would just be great to be able to teleport or move things with my mind," Richie remembered fondly. "I get the mind reading and stuff, but come on, teleportation? This isn't Star Trek." "Some people would say the same thing about a race of people who live forever and create a pyrotechnics spectacle when they're killed," Joe reminded him dryly. The remark sobered him, and again reminded him of why he was talking to Joe. "So, Maris worked for this organization. So what?" "Well, she was soon afterwards drafted by a woman named Lady Mulvaney. Mulvaney is under suspicion of working with foreign powers to beat the Anglo-American Alliance in discovering these abilities within humans, but there is no proof." The young Immortal reviewed the information in his head. "That still doesn't explain why Maris would want to kill Ami. Unless-- hey, Joe, did these people use like human subjects?" The thought of Ami being used as a lab rat somewhere sickened and angered him at the same time. "I'm sure they do, Richie. The psychic abilities they're looking for can't be found in chimps and applied later." Joe shifted through the papers again. "I thought of that, but you can put your hackles down. No where in any of my files does it show that Ami Jackson ever met or came into contact with Lady Mulvaney. She's also never met Maris, but Maris apparently has been putting a lot of time and effort into knowing everything about Ami and some of her friends." "What do you mean?" "Maris has hired private investigators. They've been following Ami for months. And Ami's not the only one. There are three others that are under her surveillance as well." Richie had the sinking feeling he knew who the three others were. "A blonde girl, and two boys?" "Yeah." Joe paused sharply. "How'd you know that?" "I met them tonight. Ami's friends, I mean." Richie chewed thoughtfully on his lip for a minute. "They're nice, but something about them is different. Really different; it's like they're not really normal teenagers. That's why I thought that maybe they'd been tested or used by these government people. But they haven't?" "There is one connection between Ami's friends and Maris, but it's a stretch." "What? I'll take anything you can give me, Joe." "About two and half years ago, Ami Jackson was detained for questioning by the local authorities." "What?" Richie thought about the young woman he'd met and shook his head in disbelief. "She's not like that, Joe. She's not--" "Let me finish, Richie. She was questioned about a kidnapping she had witnessed. A young boy was removed from his hospital room. Ami, and her two friends, the two Maris is watching, Adam Newman and --" "Megabyte," Richie finished. "Marmaduke Damon," Joe continued as if Richie hadn't spoken. Richie smirked. "Marmaduke? No wonder he goes by Megabyte." "Do you want to hear this or not?" "Sorry." "Well, nothing ever came of it. The boy turned up at his aunt's home, and the case was neatly closed and filed away by World Ex Securities -- " "Aren't they like the International CIA or something?" "Richie, you really should watch the news more often." Joe sighed. "World Ex is dedicated to maintaining international peace and security. At least on the surface. But yes, they do seem to have a lot of international connections in places they technically shouldn't." "So, why did World Ex get involved?" "The investigation was headed by a General William Damon." Richie made the connection. "He wouldn't be related to Megabyte would he?" "He's the boy's father. General Damon also worked with the Anglo-American Alliance for a short while." The cold hand gripping Richie's insides tightened its grip. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. "So, maybe General Damon knows Maris Keillor?" "It's a distinct possibility. But it still doesn't explain her behavior." "Looks like there's only one way to find out." "Richie don't do anything stupid." "Hey, Joe, you know me." "Like I said, don't do anything stupid." End of Chapter Ten _________________________________ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (9/25) Date: 14 Mar 1998 21:08:58 -0500 Perceptions (9/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Nine Leaning against the lamppost, Adam only partially listened to the conversation between Jade and Megabyte. If one could call it a conversation; Jade continued to reprimand the other Tomorrow Person for his rude behavior, and Megabyte continued to deny that he had done anything wrong. Occasionally Jade would ask Adam's advice, and he would simply nod or mutter a general answer in their direction. Adam had other things on his mind at the moment; things he would prefer not to share with the other Tomorrow People until he had mulled them over more. He watched as Ami talked to Richie a few feet away. She laughed every now and then, and would glance in the direction of her fellow Tomorrow People, but the distance was too great for him to make out the words. If Adam hadn't been a Tomorrow Person, if he hadn't possessed telepathy and empathy, he would have still be intensely aware of the fact that Ami was definitely taken with Richie Ryan. Now, that was an understatement if Adam had ever heard one. It was odd watching her. It was like watching a movie that he didn't quite belong in. Ami had never been the sort to get coy and wide-eyed or giggly around the male populace. Adam mostly remembered her turning away from interested eyes with a kind, but firm smile and blink of the eyes. It was funny, but he had never imagined that Ami would take an interest in anyone and it felt odd to see it happening. It was odd to see how she seemed to almost hang on every word Richie spoke, and how she watched him covertly when she thought no one else was noticing. It wasn't Ami -- but then again, he supposed that it was. Adam supposed that in his mind, he never imagined that the others would go off the deep end. Sure, Jade still harbored a half-felt crush on Megabyte, and Megabyte's attitude towards Ami at times made him wonder if the boy wasn't harboring a half-felt crush toward his fellow Tomorrow Person, but he never imagined the others would feel things like that. He never imagined that one day Ami, or Megabyte, or Jade might meet someone who affected him the same way Lucy Allen had; the same way a certain Scottish young woman had. But it was clear that he was short sighted; Richie Ryan held Ami by the heartstrings. And that had him worried. But not for the reasons most would think. "I think that you're jealous," Jade's words drifted to his ears. "Of what? Him? Right, Jade." Still, Megabyte's response was clipped. Adam turned his attention to the two. "Did you two sense it? What Ami was talking about?" Megabyte blinked at him. "No. Ami was probably swooning." "Are you sure you didn't feel anything unusual from Richie?" Adam had. Maybe it was because Ami had warned him, and he had been waiting for it. It was an elusive, nondescript feeling; different from the sense of his fellow Tomorrow People and a far different sense of awareness than that he received from non-telepaths. The psychic signature seemed to flare in and out, muddied, unclear and hard to read or pin down. "You mean his how he feels to us? Psychically?" Jade asked. Adam nodded. Jade was the youngest of the group, but she was learning. And, sometimes, like now, she was clearly more perceptive than Megabyte. "That's exactly what I mean." Jade pondered a moment, her blue eyes clouding. Then she nodded. "It's like he's there but not there. I thought that maybe he just has naturally strong shields." Adam considered. "It's a possibility. He might." Which worried him even more. Not only had he picked up the odd psychic sense from Richie, but there were also images. Very strange, very disturbing images that he played round and round with in his mind. Dark, inexplicable images. "You don't like him, do you Adam?" "You're not jealous, are you pal?" Megabyte's teasing laughter wavered. If he hadn't been so keenly going over his thoughts and the few images from Richie that plagued his mind, Adam might have taken that as a perfect opportunity to bait and tease Megabyte. As it was, he simply straightened up and shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that." That, in fact, was the third strike. He did like Richie. The young man was engaging and fun. He was worldly, and he got along well with them -- all of them, even Megabyte who did his best to be dour. His gut instinct told him that there was nothing about Richie not to like; his gut instincts told him that Richie was not a danger to him. Richie wasn't even an emotional danger to Ami-- the American clearly returned her interest. But the images and the innate knowledge Adam had gleaned from one handshake wouldn't disappear. Still, now wasn't quite the time to share it with the others. Not until he knew more. "Then what is it?" Jade asked quietly. Megabyte added, "You've been distracted for most of the night." "I'm just a little surprised at Ami is all." Adam gave them a wry smile, carefully guarding his troubled thoughts. "I've never seen her act like this before." "I know," Jade sighed. "Isn't it sweet?" Adam watched as Richie leaned forward and whispered in Ami's ear. She positively beamed at him before he waved in their direction and turned and headed in the opposite direction. Watching Ami approach, and watching Richie leave, Adam felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He hoped there was an explanation. He hoped the random and chaotic images were wrong. Because if they weren't -- then Richie Ryan wasn't what he appeared to be. It meant he had killed someone once -- with a very sharp, sharp sword. And if that were true -- Adam didn't plan to allow him within one hundred miles of Ami or any of the other Tomorrow People. End of Chapter Nine _________________________________________________________________ "Winning that ticket Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you." -- Jack Dawson, "Titanic" ________________________________ "Winning that ticket Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you." -- Jack Dawson, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (11/25) Date: 14 Mar 1998 21:08:42 -0500 Perceptions (11/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Eleven General William Damon quietly settled into his seat, laying a rather thick manila folder onto the top of his desk. He drummed his fingers lightly on the folder, his eyes focused on the young man seated on the opposite side of the desk. "Now, Adam, do you mind telling me who this young man is, and why you felt it so urgently necessary that I do a background check on him?" Adam shifted in his seat, his dark eyes flickering toward the folder beneath the General's fingers. He really had not wanted to come to General Damon with this; whenever possible, it seemed best to keep the General out of the loop. Not because the man couldn't be trusted; the Tomorrow People could trust him. They could trust him to protect them, and shelter them and treat them like they were children caught in a house fire. And they could trust him to worry himself into a few gray hairs. No matter how many scrapes they got into and out of, or how many times they actually aided him, he still saw them as -- well, children. Unfortunately, there had been no other way to get the information he wanted on Richie Ryan. He was certain that Megabyte and Ami might have been able to dig most of it out via computer, but he didn't want to reveal his suspicions to them. After all, he kept telling himself, there was a good chance that those suspicions were unfounded. There wasn't any reason to worry anyone at the moment; particularly not Ami. The American with the unusual psychic aura had smitten his friend, and Adam didn't want to mar that in anyway. It was so seldom that they had the opportunity to be normal and to experience normal lives that Adam didn't want to take that away from Ami if he didn't have to. And she would never forgive him if he was wrong. "He's a friend of Ami's," Adam replied carefully. "He's different." "Different? Different how?" Adam shrugged. He hated to admit when he didn't have an answer. "I don't know. But he reads differently than other people." It took the General a moment to understand Adam's words. "You think that he's one of you?" "No," Adam answered quickly. "He's definitely not one of us." Then he leaned forward, indicating the folder. "I take it I'm not going to like what's in that report, am I General?" General Damon leaned back, picking up the report and opening it to the first page. "No, you're not. Even without knowing what it is you're hiding from me, and I know you're hiding something, I don't like what's in it myself." Adam rested his arms on the General's desk. He realized that if he wanted to get any answers, he was going to have to "come clean" as Megabyte would say. That didn't mean, however, that he had to tell the man everything. "It was just a feeling I had when I met him. That something's not quite right. That maybe he's not what he seems to be. And Ami is very fond him, so---" "So, you didn't want to spill your suspicions until you had verification?" Adam nodded. Sometimes, he forgot how insightful Megabyte's father could be. "Yes, that's it. If I'm wrong, I really don't think Ami would be happy with me." The Tomorrow Person knew that he didn't imagine the concern that clouded the General's face. He stared down at the folder a long moment, then looked at Adam again. "Ami's not in the middle of this, is she?" "No, it's nothing like that. She only met him a few days ago at the airport. But it's a bit obvious that she's -- " Adam paused, trying to find the right word. 'Crush' just didn't seem to fit Ami's feelings for Richie. "--Been hit hard with cupid's arrow?" General Damon offered. "You could say that." "In that case, you have even more reason not to like what's in this report." The General leaned forward, opening the folder and spreading its contents on the desk. On the very top of the pile of papers was a photocopy of a passport and some documents written in French. "I don't know who this person is, but he is not Richard Ryan." Adam stared down at the report and its contents. The face staring back from the passport was the same face that he met the day before. The hair was shorter, the features were somewhat harder, but if it were possible, Adam would swear that the face hadn't changed at all. "That's him." "That can't be him, it may be someone who looks like him. But it's not him." General Damon motioned to the documents which Adam couldn't read. "These are police, hospital, and coroner's reports, Adam. Richard Ryan was killed in a motorcycle accident in France back in 1995. He died on the scene, suffering from massive head trauma, internal bleeding, and third degree burns over ninety-three percent of his body. "When you gave me the name, it sounded familiar. I didn't know why until I saw these reports. I'd taken Megabyte down there to see the race trials; he had a thing about motorcycles back then. When we arrived, the ambulances and police were there. We heard that a French national and an American had been killed. The next day, it was in the papers." "General, I swear, this is the same Richie." Adam stared at the passport photograph. "It has to be him." "People don't survive that sort of trauma Adam. And we've got the documentation to prove it." "Then why would someone want to pretend to be Richie Ryan?" Adam put the passport copy aside, his eyes on the General. "Now that is the question, isn't it?" General Damon shuffled through a few more pieces of paper. He produced a birth certificate, and several other forms. "Richard Ryan was orphaned at the age of five and placed into a number of foster homes. Actually, the child was in and out of foster homes with the frequency that most of us change our socks. He was considered one of the problem children, a loose cannon. By the time he was fifteen, he had a rap sheet as long as my arm." "A rap sheet?" Adam tried to poke through the American slang. "A police record. Richie spent a great deal of time in the Seacouver police department and at juvenile hall. Petty theft, burglary, breaking and entering, assault and battery, I'd have to say his most minor offense was underage drinking. Anyway, he dropped out of school, and fell through the cracks in the system." "Doesn't sound like it's a very good system," Adam muttered, his eyes glancing over the various police reports. It didn't sound like a very happy or pleasant life; it didn't excuse turning around and killing someone, but it certainly explained why someone might be bitter enough to do it. But, Adam reflected, the Richie that he met hadn't been bitter or hateful at all. He'd been relaxed and calm; too relaxed and calm for someone who had lived the sort of life that the General was describing. "People have been complaining about the social services system for years, Adam. It doesn't get them anywhere." General Damon snorted with some disgust. "But, you can't fix the wiring if you can't afford to pay the electrician." Adam glossed over a police report which depicted a rather surly faced youth in a bandana. Younger, but definitely Richie. "So, how does this Richie Ryan," Adam flashed the picture at General Damon, "become the Richie Ryan who dies in a motorcycle accident? And who is pretending to be a dead man?" "I'm getting to that." Again, General Damon leafed through some papers. "Back in 1991, Richie Ryan gets the brilliant idea to rob an antiques shop. Noel and MacLeod Antiques to be precise--Adam, what is it?" At the mention of the word antiques, Adam felt his heart constrict. The conversation from last night played over in his mind. _"He used to be an antiques dealer. He still purchases and sells antiques, so he had me drop a piece off to a dealer here in London."_ "Richie mentioned antiques. He said he had a friend who used to be an antiques dealer. It just seems like a really strange coincidence." The General nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting. Because it's not coincidence." "What do you mean?" General Damon produced a picture, a black and white photograph. In it, a very attractive couple, a petite blonde woman and a dark haired man, smiled for the camera. "Tessa Noel and Duncan MacLeod. When you do a background check, it's sometimes helpful if you check out the people associated with your subject. Noel was a French national, living in Seacouver with MacLeod. They were never married, but they owned what must have been a very profitable antiques business, because MacLeod has a considerable amount of wealth." "Noel and MacLeod. That's the store Richie broke into, right?" "And that's where Ryan's luck changed. MacLeod and Noel never pressed charges. Instead, they took him in. He lived with them, he worked with them, he traveled with them." "Kind of like an odd sort of family?" "Probably the only family that Ryan ever knew." "What's wrong with that?" "Like I said, I did some checking on Noel and MacLeod. Tessa Noel was everything she appeared to be. A French national, a talented artist, and MacLeod's lover." Adam caught the use of the past tense. "You said was." "She was killed in a mugging about a year and half after she and MacLeod 'adopted' Ryan." Adam stared down at the grainy black and white again. This time his eyes were drawn to the woman, smiling and radiant, full of life and enthusiasm. It saddened him to think that a life that brilliant had been snuffed out so easily and purposelessly. "I know," the General spoke softly, echoing his thoughts. "That's how I felt. It really was a waste." "What happened then?" Adam was still staring at the picture; he was trying to reconcile the smiling woman with the dark images he received from Richie. There was no way that anyone with this woman's influence in his life could do anything that dark. "MacLeod sold the antiques shop. Moved back to Paris, took Ryan with him." General Damon gently tugged the photograph from Adam's hands, and handed him another police report. "MacLeod's the interesting one. His name has come up several time in police investigations." "What sort of police investigations?" Adam had a sinking feeling that he already knew. "Murder investigations. Homicides." The General sat back, clearly wondering if he should say more. Adam met the man's gaze levelly, calmly waiting. "You really don't want to hear anymore, Adam." "Yes, General. I do. I have to." "Duncan MacLeod was called in for questioning on a number of beheadings." -- The flash of a sword swinging through the air, slowly descending -- the flash of a face, staring upwards in resignation -- then brightness, lightening, a storm brewing -- sightless eyes staring upwards from a severed corpse -- Adam blocked the remembered image. He noticed his hands were trembling and he clasped them together to still them. The calm of his voice actually surprised him. "Isn't that a bit grisly?" "A bit? It's very grisly. But it's not as uncommon as you might think." General Damon stood and crossed over to the water cooler. "All of the world, for years, at least since this sort of thing has been recorded, there seems to be a phenomenon of some sort of ritualistic decapitations." "You mean this is a normal method of killing people?" Adam was repelled. "Well, it doesn't happen everyday," General Damon poured himself a glass of water. "But it happens frequently enough to not be discarded as a random fluke. There are two schools of thought on the matter. One that it's some sort of cult or quasi-religious thing; two, that it's a very elite, very chameleon like crime organization--it would have to be to have branches all over the world. "I've studied the accounts, and I fall into the second school of thought. Particularly when most of those who are questioned fall into the same category with Duncan MacLeod. No blood relations, and a past so clean as to be unbelievable. Most of these people, even the victims, don't even have medical records. "Instead of the typical bullet to the head or drowning, this organization uses decapitation." Adam shivered and not from cold. He didn't want to ask the next question, but he had to. "How? Do they use swords?" The General paused, half-way between sitting in his seat. He made no attempt to hide the surprise that flashed across his features. "Adam, what exactly do you know about this? How do you know about the swords? What does this Ryan character have to do with the Tomorrow People?" "If it was some sort of criminal organization, then they would be able to change identities, right? Maybe even stage someone's death?" Adam ignored the General's questions. He was beginning to feel quite sick to his stomach. His only relief was knowing that Ami was spending the day with her mother and was no where near Richie Ryan, or whoever he truly was. "There are pictures in this report, pictures of the body. There is no way that was staged. He's dead. Whoever this person is, it's not Richie Ryan. But yes, an organization with the clout and power to stay hidden all these years could recreate an individual." -- The flash of a sword swinging through the air, slowly descending -- the flash of a face, staring upwards in resignation -- "And that would make a pretty efficient assassin, wouldn't it?" "I want to know everything that you know about Ryan, Adam. And I want to know it now." Adam shook his head, standing. He had to talk to Ami. It was entirely possible that Richie wasn't a threat to her, but he couldn't afford to take any chances. "I'm sorry, General. I really have to go." "Adam--" "Good-bye, General." Then closing his eyes, he focused his mind and disappeared in a bright flash of light. The last thing he heard before he disappeared, was the General speaking into the intercom, "Frank. I need to see you. Now." End of Chapter Eleven _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (12/25) Date: 14 Mar 1998 21:10:00 -0500 Perceptions (12/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twelve Maris Keillor was an easy target. Following her was child's play, and Richie couldn't help but think that perhaps that was a bad sign. He stayed out of sensing range, so he knew she couldn't have sensed him, but it was entirely possible that she had glimpsed him from afar. Still, there was no other way to find out what she was up to and he didn't have anything better to do with his time anyway. Ami was spending the day shopping with her mother. While she hadn't sounded particularly pleased about the prospect, Richie got the idea that her mother wore iron gloves and that Ami bowed to the woman's whims more often than not. Of course, he found it hard to imagine Ami being argumentative with anyone-- well, aside from Megabyte-- something else that he found charming about her. Not that she would bend to his will, Richie was relatively certain that she had other ways of communicating her displeasure, but she wouldn't be the loud, shrieking, scene making type. He bit into the deli sandwich, lounging against the wall of the plain gray building. Across the street was World Ex Securities and Maris Keillor had disappeared inside about ten minutes ago. Richie had considered trying the "delivery boy" routine, but realized how risky it would be. At least from here, he could manage to stay out of range of her buzz, but inside the building-- he just might give himself away. There. He saw Maris's car pull out from the garage. Only now, a man was seated in the backseat with her. It was hard to tell from this distance, but there didn't seem to be anything particularly memorable about him. But the woman was on the move again. Richie tossed the last remnants of the sandwich into the trash, regretting the loss of those last few bites. However, he reminded himself, he had a job to do. He climbed on board the rented motorcycle, and donning his helmet, eased himself into traffic, following behind the sedan. * * * * * * "Ami, you're a million miles away," Mrs. Jackson snapped her fingers in front of her daughter, grabbing the young woman's attention. "Whatever is on your mind today?" Ami smiled sheepishly. "It's nothing Mum." "Nothing, mm?" Mrs. Jackson folded her arms across her chest, eyeing her daughter speculatively. "This nothing wouldn't have to do with that American boy that you met would it?" "No, Mum. It doesn't have anything to do with him." Ami couldn't stop the smile that formed on her face as she thought of him, however. "And he has a name. It's Richie." "Richie. Richie. What sort of name is Richie? The next thing you're going to tell me is that he's in a rock band or something." "No. He races motorcycles." Ami lifted a forkful of salad to her mouth with a smug smile. "Motorcycles! Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?" Ami shook her head and rolled her eyes, allowing her mother to follow another one of her "worried-about-my-baby-girl" tangents. It gave Ami a moment to focus her thoughts inward and concentrate on what was really distracting her. She really did wish that the only thing occupying her mind at that moment was a certain twenty-year-old blue-eyed American. Richie Ryan had been the last thought on her mind when she drifted off to sleep last night, and the first thing she thought about this morning. Which was odd, because Ami had always sworn to herself that she was not going to get all doe-eyed and weak-kneed over some boy. There were other things to worry about-- like school, classes and the Tomorrow People. Yet, she couldn't deny the warmth that she felt when she thought about Richie. But it wasn't Richie that preoccupied her thoughts at this particular moment. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong but she didn't know precisely what it was. The others were fine, Adam was a bit distracted, but he was perfectly fine. He had mentioned wanting to talk to her this evening, without Jade and Megabyte, but that wasn't the source of her worry. It was unusual for Adam, but not enough to warrant the tight knot of fear that was developing in her stomach. Knowing the others were all right, she had taken a moment to call Richie. He was a bit sleep laden, explaining that a friend from the states had called him in the middle of the night, but again, there was no source for her worry and fear. They had made plans to meet tomorrow, and then she had allowed him to crawl back into bed. Then it happened. She felt a sharp prickling in her neck, almost like being jabbed with a needle. Crying out, she slapped her neck and jumped to her feet. "Ow!" "Ami--" her mother's concerned voice came to her down a long tunnel. The restaurant swam before her vision, blurring and fading. She gripped the sides of the table, steadying herself. She knew that these sensations were not hers, that they belonged to one of the others-- [It's Megabyte,] Adam's telepathic touch on her mind gave her something solid to focus on. [Adam!] Megabyte's panicked cry was weak. An image followed the weak cry. Just a flash. A gun going off. And Richie; Richie falling with a pool of red in the center of his chest. "Richie," Ami whispered, her vision slowly beginning to clear. "Richie." [Ami. We need you.] Adam's voice was sharp and commanding. "Ami, what's going on?" Her mother demanded. People in the restaurant were turning to stare at them. [I'm coming, Adam.] She turned to her mother, putting a firm lock on her feelings, on the sickening fear she felt for Richie. "Mum, I have to go." "Oh no you don't. That Tomorrow People business will just have to--" "No, Mum. Megabyte's in trouble. I have to go." She turned and hurried out of the restaurant, fervently hoping that she wasn't too late. End of Chapter Twelve _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (13/25) Date: 14 Mar 1998 21:10:49 -0500 Perceptions A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Thirteen Megabyte's appearance in the front hall caused his sister's dog to begin barking at him. He glared at it, "Shut up, mutt." Odd. No one came to see why the dog was barking. But then again, his mother and sister were on a shopping excursion and his father probably wasn't home. General Damon seldom had time in his busy schedule to devote a few hours to his family. "Dad?" Megabyte still called out his father's name tentatively. "In the office, Megabyte." The response surprised him. Well, if his father was home, maybe it meant that they would actually have dinner together tonight. Wouldn't that be a pleasant deviation from the norm? The Tomorrow Person froze in the doorway to his father's office. His father sat in front of the desk, handcuffed. Beside him was a woman with flowing red-hair and the most piercing, yet cold blue eyes Megabyte had ever seen. She wore a short skirted business suit, and looked like the typical office executive. Aside from the gun she had pressed to his father's temple. He was pretty sure that most his the World Ex employees didn't walk around threatening their superiors with guns. "So nice of you to join us, Marmaduke." The woman purred, her voice a mixture of various different accents, but mostly Irish. Megabyte calculated how quickly he could teleport to his father and get him out of the room. "Don't even think about trying your little disappearing trick. Unless you think that you can teleport over to your father, and teleport both of you away from here before I pull the trigger." She inclined her head towards the door. "And if you look behind you, you will see that I don't travel alone." Megabyte didn't have to look behind him to feel the cold steel of gun butt pressed against his neck. "Who--who are you?" "I'm the one with the gun. I'm the one who'll ask the questions." "Maris Keillor, Marmaduke. She worked with Mulvaney and Masters." General Damon supplied the answer to his son's question. "Apparently, she has decided to go into business for herself." The woman, Maris, glared at the General. "I always thought that Masters and Mulvaney never gave you enough credit, General. But then again, they never gave me or the Tomorrow People enough either." "So this is about me, then?" Megabyte cast a worried glance at his father. He wasn't worried about his own safety, but he had to get this woman away from his father. He thought about calling for the others, but if this lunatic was trying to catch the Tomorrow People, the less she knew about the others, the better. "Oh my, what a large ego we have, Marmaduke." She yanked the General to his feet, keeping the gun aimed. "This is about all of you. All four of you. I almost had the Jackson girl, but I encountered a little interference which caused me to alter my plans. But really, it does work out so much better this way. You'll understand that it's really nothing personal, but I really can't allow your group to live. It would be too dangerous to people of my nature and demeanor." Megabyte decided that the woman was a certifiable loon. Which meant that he and his father were in considerable more danger than he had originally thought. "You don't think you're going to use me as bait?" "I know that I am going to use you, and your father, as bait." "But why? I mean, you just told me that you're going to kill me, so why would I even cooperate?" "He's got a point, Maris." The General remarked. "I didn't exactly raise my son to be an idiot." "No, but you raised him to be weak, Damon. You're his daddy. And I've got a gun to your head." Maris nodded to her guards, "Let's get them out of here. And don't let the boy anywhere near his father." They were halfway to the front door when the woman came to a sudden and complete halt. All the color drained from her face and lifted her head as though expecting something to materialize out of thin air. Her posture and stance seemed to grow more rigid, and she glanced anxiously around the front hall. "I know you're there. You may as well come out." "Oh boy, is she gone," Megabyte muttered under his breath. "I know you're out there," the woman repeated. "And in case you can't tell, I have a man here who has a gun pressed to his temple. I will blow his head off. Now, show yourself." "So, why don't you let him go and pick on someone your own size?" the voice sounded vaguely familiar to Megabyte. The entire group turned to the right to see Richie Ryan step into the hallway. "Richie?" Megabyte's voice croaked. "What are you doing here?" "Hey, kid, relax with the questions. I'm not the one at gun point," Richie pointed out. "You're Ryan?" Megabyte heard his father's surprised question. Megabyte wondered how his father knew about Richie; and why he knew about Richie. "Enough talk." Maris ordered. "Frisk him." She stared at the American for a long moment. "You just don't learn do you, Mr. Ryan?" "I'm afraid I don't Miss Keillor." Richie held his arms up and allowed the guards to search his person. To Megabyte's amazement, the young man didn't even appear bothered by the search at gunpoint; nor did he seem to care when the guard removed a long metallic object from his coat. "Mac always said that I have a hard head." The object was a sword. "A sword," General Damon commented dryly. "A sword?" Megabyte shook his head. "You broke in with a sword." "Marmaduke, be quiet." The urgency in his father's voice surprised him. Instead of laughing at the sword, Maris handed the General to one of the guards and took the sword in her hands. "If either Damon or his son even sneezes, shoot them." "We won't be much use to you dead, Maris." "I didn't tell them to kill you, Damon. I told them to shoot you." The woman held the sword out and admired it. Her voice purred as she ran her fingers along the blade. "English broadsword. It's a marvelous weapon, do you weld your sword with skill and expertise, Mr. Ryan?" "I've never had any complaints." Megabyte felt himself blush at the only slightly couched innuendo. "Mac? Would that be Duncan MacLeod, Ryan?" "You know him?" "Was he your teacher or something?" "Hey, when only the best will do--" "Then it would really be a shame to have to kill you. You see, Duncan and I were very old, very close friends." Maris circled Richie with the sword, running the blade lightly across his torso. "I would really hate to upset Duncan." "Well, then it's a good thing that I don't plan on letting you kill me." Richie eyed her. "Um, Mac never mentioned you, by the way. He couldn't have been that impressed." In a flash, she pressed the blade against his throat. "Don't tempt me, boy. You've gotten in my way twice. I don't know what your game is, but it's a very foolish one, and you are a very foolish little boy. I don't want your head, so if you stay out of my way, you'll get to keep it." "Hey, lady, no arguments there. I kind of like it where it is myself." Richie's eyes darted to the blade then back to her. "But, um, maybe you could just tell me why you want the kid and his dad? Oh, yeah, and why you were trying to take out Ami?" Megabyte blinked. He couldn't have heard right. He started to say something, then remembered his father's warning. But whatever was going on right now-- it was weird. Normal people didn't talk like this; normal people didn't carry around swords as their only protection either. "Does she mean something to you, Ryan?" "Does she mean something to you, Keillor?" "Enough talk." She turned to the guards and nodded. "It's time to take a trip. And it's time for a little nap. A shame that Mr. Ryan won't be joining us." The scene unfolded too quickly for Megabyte's mind to clear focus in on what happened. He felt a sharp pricking to his neck and his vision began to swim. At the same moment, Maris turned, and raising her gun, she pointed it at Richie's chest and shot. The young man stumbled backwards, a pool of deep red forming on the front of his shirt. Megabyte was losing consciousness. His dad was in trouble. Richie was hurt. [Adam!] Then he was swallowed up by darkness. End of Chapter Thirteen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: Section 46-Discuss, please Date: 15 Mar 1998 20:40:43 -0600 (CST) [Note, if you don't want to be spoiled this is a bad thread to read:)] I'm going to probably undertake a rewrite of Section 46 in the near future for the following reasons: 1. Using everyone (and for those of you who haven't read it, I mean EVERYONE) was a mistake: it got jumbled and confusing and detracted from the story as a whole. There's no reason for Carol and Kenny to be in there, so they're probably going to not show up, and I'm considering taking out Tyso as well. 2. There's one thread in there that needs to be much better developed-- certain people (and I'm not naming names lest I spoil unwritten stories) need to be better developed 'cause they'll be important later. (I am serializing, i'm just a slow poke about it. I might have more time when I hit grad school, I may not.) 3. There's some confusing syntax in there. Might as well fix it. 4. I dropped the ball on charactizing what was going on with Tricia. Need to fix that. So what I'd like from all of you is: 1. Parts/lines you really liked. I'd hate to cut someone's favorite line or scene if it didn't have to go. 2. Anything that confused you/didn't work from your perspective. It'll help me clear up the confusion. 3. Anything you absolutely hated about it. I might be convinced to change it. While I'd appreciate it if you answered on list (if someone hates one part and six other people love it, it would be nice for the other six folks to be able to defend it), if you're really uncomfortable with it, feel free to email me at epsteinb@carleton.edu. Beleive me, anythign you lot care to say can't be as upsetting as some of the stuff my creative writing class came up with. I can take it. (Also, since no one's forcing you guys to critique it, I know you wouldn't take the time if you didn't see somthing worth fixing.) Thanks in advance, Tigger ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "David Yates" Subject: Re: TPFICT: Section 46-Discuss, please Date: 16 Mar 1998 17:41:18 -0000 >[Note, if you don't want to be spoiled this is a bad thread to read:)] >I'm going to probably undertake a rewrite of Section 46 in the near future for >the following reasons: >1. Parts/lines you really liked. I'd hate to cut someone's favorite line or >scene if it didn't have to go. PLEASE PLEASE Keep the Mike/Hsui Tai thing in it.....Its about time she got to do SOMETHING!!!!!!! >2. Anything that confused you/didn't work from your perspective. It'll help me >clear up the confusion. I also like the Older/younger brother thin with Mike and Andrew. >3. Anything you absolutely hated about it. I might be convinced to change it. Please change the ending where all of Andrew's problems are solved by getting his own AE suit..............He's just lost his father for goodness sake!! >Beleive me, anythign you lot care to say can't be as upsetting as some of the >stuff my creative writing class came up with. I can take it. I hope this helps Beth, I was VERY impressed with the original story, I'll look forward to seeing the revised version. "Live long and prosper!" David. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (14/25) Date: 16 Mar 1998 18:37:07 -0500 Perceptions (14/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Fourteen The three figures materialized in the empty front hall of the Damon home. The door stood slightly ajar, the muted purple and pink of the sunset filling the opening and painting the hall in somber tones. The dog cowered under the table, whimpering. He gave a half-hearted bark at the sudden arrivals, but did not venture forward. A quick, cursory glance around told them that no one was home, and that Megabyte's assailants were gone. "Shh, Duke, it's all right." Jade knelt down, her voice a soft coo. She extended a hand to the frightened dog. "Come on Duke. It's all right. Come on out." While Jade tried to calm the dog, Ami and Adam looked around the front hall. Ami peered through the door into the empty yard. "No sign of anything or anyone." "Let's try to reach Megabyte," Adam suggested. "If he can answer us, he may give us some clue as to where he is." "And if he can't?" The dog nuzzled Jade's hand. Her voice quavered and Duke gave a little whimper. "We have to try, Jade," Ami told her. The youngest Tomorrow Person nodded in agreement, rising from where she had been petting the dog. She was half stooping, half-standing when all the color drained from her face. "Adam--" Adam turned, a sickening feeling rising up in his stomach. He had a feeling that he didn't want to see whatever Jade was seeing. He followed her line of vision, noticing for the first time the few drops of blood in the front hallway. Steeling his stomach, he stepped over in that direction, Ami and Jade right on his heels. "Stay here," Adam cautioned them, stepping into the room. Though he steeled himself, the sight still took him by surprise. His heart lunged and his stomach clenched, and he fought to hang onto his lunch. The mysterious American known as Richie Ryan lay on the floor on his back. The front center of his shirt was stained a dark, deep maroon red. His skin was deathly pale, and he was eerily still. "Richie!" Ami's cry from behind him was strangled. Her emotional reaction was so powerful that Adam had to slam his mental shields tightly in place to not echo her horror and sorrow. "Oh, no, Richie." Jade's cry was no less surprised, and the girl seemed to teeter between crying and fleeing. Adam took a deep breath and slowly approached the body, his mind already working over the puzzle. Who, or what sort of sick person would kill Richie Ryan, and leave his body while taking Megabyte and the General? Tentatively, trying to ignore the gaping hole in Richie's blood-soaked shirt, and the blood-soaked shirt itself, Adam searched for a pulse in the neck. He knew the effort was futile-- Richie Ryan had been dead the moment Megabyte sent them that flash. It surprised him that skin so pale was still warm to the touch; he hadn't been dead long enough for all of his body heat to escape. He could feel the tension from Jade and Ami, and an overwhelming sorrow that no doubt came from Ami. Adam felt a bit of sorrow himself; he didn't trust Richie, and he didn't like what he'd learned about him, but he certainly didn't like finding him dead in the Damon home. Slowly, he stood, glad to turn his eyes away from Richie's lifeless body. "We're going to have to call the police. We can't do anything." Adam took Ami in his arms, giving her a hug before he said more. "I'm sorry, Ami. There's nothing that we can do." "I'll go call the police," Jade turned, more than likely intending to flee the grisly scene, but she collided right into Frank, the General's aide. "Frank!" Frank stared into the room over the heads of the Tomorrow People. "What happened here?" Adam noticed the man was strangely detached for someone who was staring at a dead body in the middle of the Damon family living room. "We don't know," Adam supplied quietly. Ami was crying softly on his shoulder; he hadn't quite realized how attached his friend had gotten to the young American in just two days. Or maybe she was just crying over the futility of it all. It certainly didn't seem important now to mention the General's file on Richie Ryan. "Megabyte called us, but when we got here--" Adam let his words trail off. "I'm going for the police," Jade explained. Adam noticed she kept her eyes carefully away from the living room. As she slid past Frank, the man grabbed her arm. His tone was more firm and commanding than Adam had ever heard. "No one is calling the police. No police, no doctors." "But he's--" Jade gave a glance at Ami. Adam had to admire the younger girl's compassion for her friend. She lowered her voice. "He's dead." "I can see that he's dead, Jade, but we can't bring the police in." Frank stepped forward, ushering, Adam and Ami out of the room. "Listen to me very carefully. If you trust me, if you've ever trusted me, trust me now. No police." Frank glanced anxiously at the dead body. "Hopefully, in an hour or so, you'll be able to understand why. "Now, do you trust me?" Adam exchanged a wary glance with Jade. He felt Ami shift, and she pulled away wiping her eyes. After a few wipes, she faced Frank, her eyes darting between him and Richie's body behind him. [Adam?] Jade asked tentatively. [It's up to Ami, Jade. Richie was her friend.] Finally, after an extended silence, Ami nodded. "All right, Frank. We trust you." Adam tried to contain his shock. Jade didn't do so well. [I didn't think that you would say that.] [It's just a feeling I have. Somehow, I think Frank knows more than he's telling us.] Now, why didn't that surprise Adam? End of Chapter Fourteen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (15/25) Date: 16 Mar 1998 18:38:28 -0500 Perceptions (15/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Fifteen The pain that pierced his awareness was sharp, grating. He felt every nerve impulse in his body fire at once, he felt every cell shift. He felt the intense heat of the bullet piercing his heart; the fiery explosion from within. The air going into his lungs was cold fire, shocking and piercing, forcing him to gasp. His body trembled as awareness of itself and its unity returned. Slowly the world began to coalesce and reform, memories began to whirl and take shape-- The kid, his father, and Maris Keillor aiming the gun at his chest. Too late he tried to back away; his reflexes were too slow. "How do you feel?" the voice was unfamiliar, wary even. Richie slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position, ignoring the stinging and itching of his chest as his body worked to heal itself. Dying hurt like hell; he was beginning to think that reviving hurt more. He looked around, taking in what was obviously a living room. A family portrait on the wall told him that it was the Damon living room. However, a cursory glance around was all he allowed himself. He had to find out what was going on. "It's amazing, you know." The voice was still speaking. "I never did get used to seeing that." Richie turned to face the source of the voice. A dark haired, spectacled, non-descript man was watching him with mixed curiosity and wariness. Richie scooted an inch or so away from the man. "Who are you?" "Frank," the man extended a hand. "Frank Addleman. I'm General Damon's assistant." Richie took the hand tentatively, shaking it with some reluctance. Frank had a firm grip. "Okay, Frank, what the hell is going on, and why aren't you running scared?" "What's going on is that you were killed, Ryan. Point blank in the chest with a gun." Frank indicated Richie's stained shirt with a wave of his hand. "Probably by Keillor or one of her goons. Keillor escaped with my boss and his son in tow." "And the second question?" "I know what you are. I know about Immortals." "How?" Richie was instantly on guard, ready to bolt for the door. He made a quick glance at the man's wrists, looking for a familiar trefoil tattoo. Instead, all he saw was the scar of a burn-- or the scar of a tattoo removal. "You used to be a Watcher?" "Technically, I still am." Frank settled back on his haunches, giving Richie space. He almost seemed to sense that the young Immortal had gone into fight or flight mode. "However, working for World Ex, the tattoo would have attracted notice. I had it removed. Mostly, I keep an eye out for Immortals and Hunters in high places; try to keep tabs on them. I'm not really a field agent or a historian; I'm an information person." "Why are you telling me all this?" Richie didn't know if he liked this. "Don't you know the rules?" Frank winked. "We have a mutual friend. I was trained by one of the best-- Joe Dawson." "Joe knows about you?" It seemed a stupid question, but Richie was not about to trust this guy. Not any further than he could throw him. "Joe knows about you. He knows you're in London. And he knew you were looking for Maris Keillor. He asked me to keep an eye on you. Then when the General did your background check, I got a little worried. I hadn't been expecting that so I hadn't planned for it." "Background check?" "Yes, you wouldn't know about that." Frank scratched his chin idly. Then, as if suddenly remembering, he reached behind him and tossed Richie a clean shirt. "There's a wash room down the hall on the right. Get cleaned up. We're going to need your help to find the General, Marmaduke and Maris." Richie glanced from the shirt to Frank in growing confusion. "Why should I trust you? I've never even seen you before, and for all I know you might be a Hunter." "I might. But I'm the only reason Cory Lyle isn't on a morgue slab downtown right now." Frank shook his head, standing. "And if I wanted you dead, you would be dead right now. "You can find us in the kitchen when you're presentable." "You keep saying 'us' and 'we.' Who?" Richie decided that he really had no choice but to trust the man. He had to find Maris--before she hurt that smart mouth Megabyte, or went for Ami again. "Some mutual friends." Frank left the living area, leaving Richie to ponder the implications of that alone. * * * * * * Adam looked up expectantly as Frank re-entered the kitchen. For the past thirty minutes, the man had been promising them answers, but he had delivered none. The first ten minutes he spent on the telephone to the States, talking in hushed tones to someone named "Joe" about Richie. Whatever happened during that conversation, Adam could tell that "Joe" didn't give Frank a very good reception. Most recently, the man divided his time between the kitchen, where the Tomorrow People drank soda and stared at a bag of potato chips, and checking on Richie's body in the living room. Adam wondered why the man kept checking the body. It was almost as though he expected it to get up and walk away. Like that would happen, he could almost hear Megabyte's sarcastic response. Thoughts of his friend, missing and unconscious, reminded Adam of why they were there. "Frank?" Frank took a seat at the table. "We should be ready in just a few minutes. I have to tell you kids, though, you're going to be in for a very big shock." "I don't think things can get anymore shocking," Ami whispered softly, staring down at the kitchen table. Jade reached out and gave her friend's hand a squeeze. "Hey, all right, all right!" The voice from the hall caused all three Tomorrow People to look up in surprise. The accent sounded like-- but no, it couldn't be. "Who's here?" Jade called tentatively, exchanging a frightened glance with her friends. Adam would have shared her concern, but he was watching Frank. And Frank didn't seem the least bit alarmed. Good, maybe it means someone's here to answer our questions. First, we need to know who grabbed Megabyte and the General-- All rational thought flew from Adam's head as the impossible happened. Richie stumbled into the kitchen, trying to stop Duke from jumping on him and licking his face. He glanced over at the Tomorrow People with a wide grin, "Does anyone know how to control this beast?" "Richie!" Ami and Jade cried out in unison, nearly over turning the table as they jumped up. "You were dead. We saw you. You were dead." Adam wondered if his face was as pale as Ami's and Jade's. It must have been because as Richie raked his blue eyes over the group, and he registered Adam's words, his smile began to fade. By the time that gaze rested on Frank it was rather dark and somber. "Great, you didn't tell them, did you, Frank?" "You were dead," Ami echoed Adam's words. With a disgusted sigh, Richie grabbed a chair and turned it backwards, straddling it. "Yeah, I get that a lot." End of Chapter Fifteen _________________________________________________________________ "Winning that ticket Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you." -- Jack Dawson, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (16/25) Date: 16 Mar 1998 18:41:21 -0500 Perceptions (16/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Sixteen Richie seriously wondered how sick and twisted Frank's sense of humor was. After he sat down, with three sets of curious, disbelieving, and somewhat wary eyes on him, and had gotten a cup of coffee, Frank quickly recapped what the three teenagers had told him. No, that wasn't precisely correct. Frank told him that they had found him there dead, probably not long after Maris left. Richie didn't know how or why the three happened to be there; and Frank didn't elaborate on how they had known Megabyte was in danger. Frank wrapped up the story with convincing them to not call the police and wait for understanding. Understanding that Richie was no doubt supposed to deliver. Richie looked from one anxious face to the other, and finally focused his attention on Adam. It was pretty clear to him that both Ami and Jade looked to Adam as some sort of leader or big brother figure. And besides, it was easier than seeing the wariness in Ami's dark eyes. "I'm Immortal. I can't die. I can't be killed, at least not by an convential methods." "That's impossible," Jade objected, then turned five different shades of red. Richie could almost read the thoughts on her face: of course, it wasn't impossible-- Richie was living proof. "No, it's not. I can be shot, or drowned or burned, but I won't really die. My body will just heal itself and revive me." Richie explained slowly, carefully. He wondered how Mac handled giving this explanation. "I heal rapidly, so even broken bones and internal bleeding aren't a problem." Still noting their disbelief, Richie sighed. He glanced over at Frank and motioned to the knife by the man's hand. "Could I see that knife, Frank?" Blinking in confusion, Frank handed him the knife. "What are you going to do with that?" Ami asked quickly. Something about the tone of her voice told Richie that she had a pretty good idea of what he was going to do with it. Still, this would go a lot faster, if they weren't stuck in that tunnel of nonbelief. "Proof." That was all he said. Then taking a deep breath, and bracing himself, he sliced up his arm. It stung and burned, and he winced in pain. There really had to be a better way of proving this. "Are you nuts?" "Why did you cut yourself?" "What are you doing?" The three voices bubbled over one another, with the three teens standing. "Sit and watch," Richie ordered. He could already feel the itchy, tickling beginnings of healing as the tendon and muscles knit themselves. The tone of his voice froze them in place. Richie watched their faces while the familiar blue sparks of energy worked their way up the cut, leaving his arm unscathed. He wiped away the drying blood with a napkin, and held the arm out to their astounded faces. "That must be pretty handy," Adam remarked thoughtfully. "Not exactly." Richie took the knife over to the sink and began to wash it. He could feel their eyes on him. "I still feel pain." "Then why did you do that?" Jade's voice was heavily tinged with undertones that said she was beginning to have doubts about his sanity. Richie turned to face them, leaning against the sink. "I figured that you needed some proof. To know that my surviving that gunshot wasn't just a fluke." "So, you can just live forever? You don't ever die?" Ami's voice was like music to his ears. Oh, yeah, like you stand a chance with her now. Dying just doesn't do it for impressing the girls, Ryan. And neither does slicing your arm open at the kitchen table. "Well, I can be killed." "Decapitation," Adam said the word softly. "You can be killed by decapitation." Richie stared at him, feeling slightly ill. He noted that Frank also looked to the young Australian with surprise. "How did you know that?" Adam kept his eyes averted. "I asked the General to do a background check on you--" "Adam you didn't!" Ami's indignation rang through the kitchen. Adam couldn't even make eye contact with her. "And there were some things in your file about decapitations." There was something that the Australian was not telling him as well. Right now, Richie decided not to worry about it-- besides he got the feeling that Adam was going to get an earful from Ami when this business was all done with. However, he understood the young man. Or at least he thought he did. He nodded in Adam's direction. "I wouldn't worry about it, Ami. I'm sure Adam was just looking out for you. A strange American--" "Right." Ami didn't sound very convinced. "What about the decapitations?" Jade asked. Some fear crept into her voice now. Richie shifted awkwardly. This was going to be the hardest part to explain. "I'm not the only Immortal. There are lots of us. Everywhere. The woman who grabbed your friend is one of us." "You mean there are people all over the world who can't die unless you--" Jade stopped in midsentence. Clearly, that concept didn't settle too well with her. "Right," Richie agreed. "Since forever, or as long as Immortals have been alive, we've been fighting for the Prize. It's said that in the end there can be only one. Only one Immortal." "You kill each other?" Adam asked the question with some fear and disgust. "Since the dawn of time, it seems there have been Immortals on the earth, Adam." Frank took over the conversation. "They live, they breath and they survive, and occasionally when they come together they fight; they fight because they are taught to fight. They are taught to fight for the Prize. They live by a certain code, and must honor certain rules, and they only fight in private and with swords. "Some are good, some are evil. Some enjoy killing. And some, like Richie, are simply trying to survive the Game." "The Game?" "It's a really lame way of describing our eternal battle," Richie muttered. "Whoever coined that phrase had a really sick sense of humor." "When two Immortals meet and fight," Frank continued, giving Richie a glare, "they fight to the death. The winner takes the losers head and with it his power; his Quickening." "It's not a medical procedure, Frank." Richie muttered. "You make it sound like it's all fun and games, and it isn't." "What's a Quickening?" Jade asked. Richie wondered if it was his imagination, or if these three teenagers were truly trying to wrap their minds around this and accept it. "It's our life force, I guess. Our experience." Richie explained. "Every one has a little Quickening, but it's stronger in Immortals. It's so strong that we can actually sense one another. We call it the buzz, and I guess it's a good warning signal." "That must be what we sense," Ami remarked softly. "Quickening. It must make the psychic aura stronger." It was Richie's turn to quirk an eyebrow in confusion. "What was that?" "This Quickening," Adam gave Ami a cautionary glance and turned his attention to Richie. "What's it like?" "A first class pyrotechnics show," Richie sighed. "And it's not exactly a carnival either." Adam nodded as if Richie's words had somehow confirmed something he had been thinking. "How do you become Immortal?" Jade seemed to be at no loss for questions. "We're born this way. We don't know who our parents are, we're all foundlings." Richie crossed the kitchen and returned to his chair. That was good for the dog which placed its head in his lap. He absently scratched behind its ears. "We age, get hurt, get sick just like mortals until the first time we actually die. That seems to turn on our Immortality. After that, we don't age anymore, we're pretty much frozen at the age we died." "You were young," Ami remarked softly. Richie had to smile. "I'm not that old yet, Ami." "How old are you?" "Twenty-three." Richie said the words softly. "I was nineteen when I became Immortal. I'm pretty much an infant as far as the Game. I've known Immortals hundreds of years old." After that revelation, a silence descended. He noticed that the three teenagers exchanged glances, and seemed to be having some unspoken conversation. The only sound was the thump-thump-thumping of the dog's tail against the floor. Finally, three sets of eyes turned to him. "Well, I guess it's our turn now," Adam announced. "We have a bit of a secret of our own." Richie stared at the three expectantly, waiting. "Richie Ryan, we're the Tomorrow People." Ami stood, exchanging a quick glance with her two friends. Richie cocked an eyebrow. Were they trying to tell him they were some sort of rock band? "The Tomorrow People?" "I think you should just show him, Ami." Adam smiled, and Jade giggled. Richie didn't know whether to be worried or excited. The next moment however, he didn't know what to think at all. A field of energy crackled and formed around Ami, and he was vaguely aware of the hairs on his arms rising from the static in the air. The field brightened, and with a flash of bright light and a displacement of air, the young woman disappeared. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she leaned over his shoulder a moment later. "You're not the only one with an interesting talent." "I guess not." End of Chapter Sixteen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (17/25) Date: 16 Mar 1998 18:42:37 -0500 Perceptions (17/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Seventeen "Wow," Richie commented once they had finished their story. "So, I guess seeing a guy come back from the dead wasn't that out of field for you guys?" "To say the least," Adam laughed. "Look guys, this is really wonderful," Ami looked around the table, her eyes resting particularly longer on Richie than anyone else. Somehow knowing the life that he led, forced into it and not choosing it, made him seem more vulnerable than even the Tomorrow People were. It was odd, to think of someone who carried four feet of steel around for protection as vulnerable, but she did. "But we really have to find Megabyte and the General." "Right," Adam agreed. "Richie, you were here last. What can you tell us? Did you see or hear anything?" Richie shook his head. "No. I still don't even know why she grabbed Megabyte and his father and I spent the whole day following her around." Richie paused. "You guys can't contact him with telepathy?" "We haven't tried, guys. Not since we got here," Ami looked from Adam to Jade. "It can't hurt." "Right," Adam nodded. The three of them stood, and holding their palms up, barely touching they closed their eyes. For one moment, Ami wondered what Richie must be thinking, but she had only a brief moment for the fleeting thought, before her mind joined with Adam's and Jade's and they began searching for Megabyte's familiar psychic signature. [Megabyte? Can you hear us?] They were met with dead silence, the silence of sleep or unconsciousness. Adam shook his head, breaking the link. "No. He's unconscious. He can't answer us." "You can tell that he's unconscious?" Richie asked. "We're connected," Jade explained. "We're always aware of one another. We can always tell if someone's hurt or sick or unconscious or whatever." "So much for privacy," Richie muttered. "We've grown rather accustomed to it," Ami settled back into her seat. "It's a lot like background noise." "So what do we do now?" Jade looked from Adam to Ami and back again. "Maybe nothing," Frank commented. Four sets of eyes rested on the General's aide. "We know that Maris Keillor wants something. And it's a very good possibility that what she wants is the Tomorrow People. She probably intends to use the General and Marmaduke as bait." Frank poured himself another cup of coffee from the pot in the center of the table. "And that means that either she will be contacting you, or she will have Marmaduke contact you as soon as he's awake." "But if she lets him wake up, what's to stop him from teleporting away with the General?" Jade asked. "The last time I saw Megabyte and his father, Jade, the General had a gun to his head." Richie spun a spoon in a circle on the table. "I don't know how that teleportation stuff works, but are you willing to bet money on your teleporting being faster than a bullet?" "No, I guess not," Jade admitted rather glumly. Ami saw the shadow flicker across Richie's face. He looked genuinely injured; he probably hadn't meant to speak so bluntly. She was pretty sure that he was more accustomed to speaking to people who had a great deal of experience with violence. His next words only confirmed her suspicions. He reached out and patted Jade lightly on the arm. "It's okay, kid. We'll find Megabyte and his father." Normally, Jade objected to being called "kid" or "squirt" or anything in between. But in this case, she just gave Richie a half-hearted smile. "Yes, but how do we find them?" Adam asked. "We don't even have any leads." Richie turned his attention to Adam, a slow, sly smile forming on his face. "Well, my friend Mac always taught me to stay one step ahead of my enemies. So, it's time we got one step ahead of Maris Keillor. "And Frank and I have a mutual friend who might just be able to give us the extra step that we need." End of Chapter Seventeen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (18/25) Date: 17 Mar 1998 15:28:18 -0500 Perceptions (18/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Eighteen Consciousness crept up on Megabyte with the stealth of a thief. His eyes opened first, squinting against the pain that the dim lighting of the windowless room provided. He was aware of something underneath him, aware of the fact that he was lying on his back, a dirty, cobweb ceiling hanging over him. His mouth felt as though he'd eaten a bag of cotton balls and the muscles of his neck were taut. Memories came with consciousness. His arrival home, the barking of Duke. And his father, his father in handcuffs with a gun pressed to his temple. The woman with the velvety red hair -- the sound of a gun, the sight of the red blood on Richie Ryan's chest-- Megabyte forced himself to shut off the memories and blinked in the dimness several times. He had no idea where he was, or what was going. All he knew was that he was probably in a great deal of danger, Richie Ryan was probably dead, and he needed to contact the others. As his eyes began to adjust to the light, he sat up. Too quickly. The room shifted suddenly, as did the sudden rush of pain to his head. He groaned, lowering his head into his hands. The throbbing of his head banished all thoughts of trying to contact the others telepathically at the moment. "Oh, good, you're awake." The velvet smooth voice drifted to his ears. "I was beginning to think that Sean had given you far too large of a dosage." Megabyte peered at her through parted fingers. It was her. The woman with the flowing mane of red hair and eyes as blue as the sky on a clear summer day. He might have even thought she was beautiful if she hadn't been staring at him like a laboratory specimen while she filed her nails with a dagger. If she hadn't threatened his life, his father's life and killed an innocent bystander in cold blood. Okay, so he didn't have a clue what Richie was doing there. Maybe the guy wasn't exactly innocent, but he didn't deserve to be killed. Megabyte hadn't liked him much; he hadn't liked the way Ami seemed to lose her wits around him, but he hadn't wanted him dead. On the quickest plane to Seacouver, yes. But not dead. "Whatever," Megabyte croaked. He looked around the room, noticing the one guard. "Where's my dad?" The woman, Maris he thought her name was, rose and brought him a glass of water. He hadn't even noticed the water pitcher by her feet until she began filling the glass. Megabyte took it hesitantly, staring cautiously into the clear liquid. "Oh, please, Marmaduke. I hardly think that I would waste my time giving you drugs in water," Maris chastised him. "It's perfectly drinkable. I know those drugs tend to make your mouth feel like drier than the desert. And I need you capable of communicating with me. "As for your father, he's fine. And he'll be fine as long as you cooperate. Which means, don't even think about contacting your friends just yet." Megabyte took a long drink of the water, taking in his surroundings. She didn't have to worry about the telepathy thing. Megabyte had the feeling that a telepathic whisper would feel like boisterous yelling inside his skull at the moment. Besides, it wouldn't do any good to contact the others until he knew where he was and what was going on. "So, who are you really?" Megabyte lowered the glass. "And what do you want with me?" The woman returned to her seat, folding her legs, one knee over the other. She poured herself a glass of water, and took a thoughtful drink while studying him. Finally, she leaned back, and gave him a smile that made his blood congeal. "My name is Maris Keillor. I was born in 1371 in the village of--" "Yeah, right." Megabyte nearly lost his grip on the glass. This woman truly was a raving lunatic. His sarcasm was the only thing that covered his fear. He could handle power- hungry scientists and politicians; he could handle fanatical cults. Raving lunatics who thought they were hundreds of years old probably were the most dangerous types. "Like that could happen." "I'm Immortal, Marmaduke. I can not die." "No offense, lady, but everybody dies." Megabyte gave a quick glance at the guard. The man didn't seem affected at all by her raving. Of course, he was probably used to it. He was probably even paid to believe and encourage her. "There are hundreds like me in the world. And eventually, when only one of us is left, that one shall rule the world." Maris shifted, placing her water glass on the floor. She toyed with the dagger, twirling it between her fingers. "Unfortunately, this means that there is either room for your kind or room for my kind. We can't both rule the world, Marmaduke. Seeing how I'm the one who's Immortal, and mortals die so easily, guess who loses?" Yep, the woman most definitely was not playing with a full deck. "You don't believe me, do you?" "Sure. I believe that you're five hundred years old and you won't ever die. Right." "Six hundred and twenty-seven come summer." "You look good for a six hundred year old woman." "And you are an impertinent, rude boy who doesn't seem to realize how closely his father's life hangs in the balance." Maris snapped. She stood, crossing the room until she stood directly in front of him, the dagger still gleaming in her hand. "Watch and know that you have no way out, Marmaduke Damon." With those words, she sliced a fairly large rip up her arm with the dagger. Megabyte recoiled. He watched the blood swell up out of the cut, the dark, deep blood of arterial blood. He averted his eyes, his stomach clenching. A million questions formed in his mind as he realized just precisely how out of touch with reality this woman was. "Look," Maris demanded. Her free hand, the one attached to the uncut arm, gripped his chin and turned his face. She forced him to stare at the wound, the wound that didn't seem to bleeding very much at all anymore. No, that was impossible. People killed themselves like this. Sliced straight up the arm, and the blood would just keep pumping. But there was no more blood. The initial rush still covered her arm, and some of the floor, but the wound was no longer bleeding. In fact, as he watched, his face held painfully in her grip, the cut began to heal right before his eyes. The muscle and skin knitted itself together, a small lattice of blue sparks and electricity shooting through the open wound. The streaks worked their way down the cut until not a scar remained. Megabyte trembled as the implications of what she had shown him came to light. "What are you?" "I told you, I'm Immortal. And my kind will rule this earth. Your kind, will not live long enough to stop us." This time Megabyte didn't reply with his usual sarcasm. He stared at her, feeling his heart clench in fear. This time the Tomorrow People might have encountered something that they really couldn't handle. *** End of Chapter Eighteen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (19/25) Date: 17 Mar 1998 15:29:15 -0500 Perceptions (19/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Nineteen "The place looks like it should be condemned," Jade commented. Three Tomorrow People, one Immortal and Frank stood on a hill overlooking a deserted factory. The Tomorrow People had finally heard from Megabyte, and using the strength of his telepathic signal and a mind-merge at the spaceship, had been able to trace him to this location. He had been able to tell them about their enemy: Maris Keillor. She was obsessed with the Game and with the mistaken idea that those like the Tomorrow People would eventually overcome Immortals. Megabyte didn't entirely believe her story of Immortality, nor did he understand her rambling about "the Game" but after a long talk with Richie, the others did. And they realized that Maris Keillor was a great threat. Perhaps an even greater one than Galt or Masters had ever been. "Yeah, it looks like something right out of a bad movie," Richie noted. "Just the sort of place you expect a homicidal maniac to hide out in." Adam glanced over at the Immortal. Richie's words were, in light of the circumstances, oddly ironic. After all, Adam was certain that a great many people would consider all Immortals homicidal maniacs. Of course, looking at Richie, Adam was once again struck by the fact that the American didn't look like a danger or a threat. He didn't look like the sort of person who could weld a sword with skill and expertise -- or kill with the same skill and expertise. But Richie could -- he wouldn't be alive right now if he couldn't. His youthful face could fool someone into thinking he was exactly what he seemed to be-- a rash and reckless youth. The close observer would notice the other signs that signaled he was something more. These same signs that had set off warning signals for Adam; and Ami, although she was loathe to admit it. There was a certain hardness to his eyes, a certain wisdom that could only come from years of danger and dealing with things that others could only imagine. In Richie's case, a constant battle in which he knew his participation might lead to his death. He was killer, no doubt about it; but he also had a heart. It was a chilling dichotomy. It was even more chilling when Adam took into consideration the fact that Richie was on their side. He was one of the nice guys in the play for power that "Immortals" called the Game. The idea itself still sent Adam's mind in circles, and he made a note to talk to Richie more about it once Megabyte and the General were safe. And he had to believe that they would be safe. "You didn't have to put it exactly like that," Jade muttered. Richie flashed her a boyish, charming smile. "Sorry, Jade. I didn't mean it to sound so-- well-- " "Frightening?" Ami volunteered. "Impossible?" "It's not impossible," Richie objected, leaning against Frank's car. The General's aide had insisted on accompanying them, although the man had a pretty clear indication that he wouldn't be able to stop or control them. "We have a plan." Jade wasn't convinced. "Maris Keillor has a plan too, remember?" "Yeah, well, if you're lucky, you guys won't run into Maris." "I still don't like this, Richie." Ami stared at the Immortal, arms folded across her chest. If the situation hadn't been so grim, Adam might have laughed at the look she gave Richie. It was one he had seen Mrs. Jackson direct at Ami quite often. "If you guys want to get the kid and his dad, you need a distraction." Richie didn't seem to be able to meet her eyes. Adam thought that was interesting. Whatever the dynamic between Richie and his fellow Tomorrow Person, it would be interesting to watch when this was all over. "I am very good at being distracting." "But what if you run into her? Then what?" Something shifted in Ami's eyes, a mixture of worry and fear. Adam could feel the emotion radiating from her. "Ami, I'm not going in there to challenge Maris." Richie gripped her by the shoulders, a lopsided grin on his face. "I can hide with the best of them. She'll be so busy trying to find me that you guys should have no problem getting the kid and his dad out of there. "I'm a survivor, don't worry about me." Adam wondered how many years it had taken Richie to polish that charm of his. He could visible see Ami backing down. "Be careful," Ami cautioned him. "Hey, I'm always careful," Richie winked. Then he turned on his heel and sauntered down toward the factory as if he was simply going to buy lunch. "Yeah," Jade whispered as he disappeared down the hillside, "But what if Maris challenges you?" It was a thought that none of the Tomorrow People wanted to contemplate. End of Chapter Nineteen _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (20/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:24:05 -0500 Perceptions (20/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty Six hundred years old she was, but she certainly didn't=20 spend much time keeping up with technology. Then again,=20 Richie mused as he carefully inserted a small file=20 underneath the window and the sill, making contact with the=20 wire contact, this was a short term operation. Maris=20 Keillor probably didn't plan on having need of this=20 building very long. Who needed sophisticated machinery when=20 you only planned to use the premises for an execution=20 ground? The thought chilled Richie's blood. He hadn't liked the=20 sound of it when the Tomorrow People reported what Megabyte=20 was telling them, and he didn't like the sound of it now.=20 He still could not fathom how the woman thought a group of=20 teleporting teenagers would be a significant threat to=20 Immortals and the Game; significant enough to warrant=20 killing them all off. Yes, they were pacifists, but in=20 Richie's opinion, that was a good thing. There weren't=20 enough pacifists in the world--that was the problem with=20 the world. He wiggled the file a bit more and felt the catch. He heard=20 the soft sighing which told him he had made contact to=20 successfully fool the alarm system. Richie laughed softly=20 to himself; Mac and Tessa had given him the world and shown=20 him a better life, but moments like these reminded him that=20 no "talent" ever went to waste. "Richie." Ami's clear, crisp voice beside him nearly caused him to=20 leap out of his skin as she materialized from thin air.=20 Richie nearly lost his grip on the file, sucking in a=20 lungful of air and trying not to fall over backwards.=20 "Ami, what are you doing here?" Richie grabbed her wrist=20 and pulled her down into a squatting position behind him.=20 He kept his voice low, a trifle annoyed. Not because she=20 had slipped up on him so easily, but because he wondered=20 what would have happened if it hadn't been him she=20 teleported in beside. "And don't you guys have some kind of=20 warning system?" She smiled apologetically. The smile made his heart skip=20 and also made it incredibly difficult to chastise her-- or=20 to even consider it. "Sorry, Richie. But we thought that=20 someone should stay close to you. In case you need help." "Ami, you really don't want to stick close to me." The=20 words conveyed far more than he actually said. He had taken=20 some additional time to explain to the Tomorrow People the=20 rules of the Game, and the often time necessity of=20 fighting. He didn't want to fight Maris, but if it came to=20 that=85well, he would prefer that none of them, particularly=20 Ami, saw it. "But what if she shoots you again?" "We have rules." Richie turned back to the window, making=20 sure his re-route was still in place. "What if she doesn't follow them? Richie, you said it=20 yourself, not all Immortals are the good guys. And some=20 don't follow your rules." Ami's voice was clear, collected.=20 If there had been some challenge to it, or some worry, he=20 might have found a reason to argue with her. As it was she=20 was being far too logical.=20 "And what are you going to do if she does kill me again?"=20 Turning his head, Richie met her eyes and the cool logic on=20 her face. It was a bit unsettling actually, to realize that=20 this eighteen-year-old kneeling in the dirt beside him had=20 dealt with enough danger to approach this with such=20 calamity. "Teleport you out, of course." "Ami." Richie stopped. He had seen that look before. He had=20 never seen it on Ami, but he did know that look. It was the=20 look of resolve and determination. It was a look that no=20 amount of arguing could erase. Richie switched gears,=20 taking her hand. He kept his voice soft, "It's too=20 dangerous. If Maris doesn't want to play by the rules, you=20 could get caught in the crossfire. You could do a lot more=20 good with Adam and Jade." "Richie, I'm already caught in the crossfire. Remember?=20 That was me she was aiming that rifle at?" "Are you always this stubborn?" "We have to be." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "A lot=20 of people seem to want to protect us." "Just promise me that you'll teleport out if things get=20 hairy?" He hoped that his voice didn't sound quite as=20 desperate and pleading as he thought it did. He was sick=20 with fear that something might happen to her; that might=20 get hurt, or even worse killed. He would never, ever=20 forgive himself if that happened. "I promise," she agreed much more quickly than he had=20 expected. He held onto her hand a moment longer before letting go and=20 turning back to the window. "I suppose I did all this work=20 for nothing. I mean, you can just teleport in there right?" "All what work?" "Fooled the alarm system." Richie flashed her a smile. "How did you--" "Well, before I had the pleasure of living forever and=20 having people come after my head with swords, I was in a=20 much less risky profession." Ami tilted her head questioningly at him. "That was?" "Petty thief."=20 The surprise on her face almost made up for the fact that=20 he felt like the Tomorrow People were trying to baby-sit=20 him. Almost. *** End of Chapter 20 _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (21/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:24:56 -0500 Perceptions (21/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty-One Megabyte never thought he would be as happy to see anyone as he was when Adam and Jade materialized in his holding cell. He jumped up off the narrow cot, and called a low greeting. He was excited, but not stupid. There was a guard outside his door, and he didn't want to attract the guard's attention. "Adam, Jade." He quickly switched to telepathy as he saw them preparing to answer. [There's a guard outside my door. Maris doesn't exactly trust me. Did you find my Dad?] [No,] Adam replied with a shake of his head. [We were hoping that you could help us with that.] [I haven't seen him since I got here. I talked to him on a radio, but that was about it.] Megabyte paused, [He's alive. And Maris won't hurt either of us until--] The boy did not finish the thought. [Until she has all four of us,] Adam finished it for him. [We're not going to let that happen, Megabyte,] Ami's voice brushed his mind. [There's a corridor on this side of the building. It's pretty well guarded. Richie thinks that the General might be down there.] Megabyte raised an eyebrow at Adam. What was Richie Ryan doing here in the middle of all this? He could believe that the young man was still alive but certainly not well enough to be running around this old building with the Tomorrow People. [Richie's Immortal too,] Jade supplied the information quickly. "He's--" Megabyte forced himself to not speak aloud. Ryan was like Maris. What was going on around here? [He's just like her?] [No, he's not just like her,] Jade snorted. [Richie's nice. He's on our side.] [Megabyte, later,] Adam promised. [Right now, we have to find your father.] That was an objective that the young American could not argue with. * * * * Ami released the breath that she hadn't known she was holding as Richie returned to her side. He had been attempting to get closer to the corridor, to verify that the General was there. She thought his behavior was reckless and risky, even for someone who knew the bullets in the guards' guns couldn't kill him. "Did you tell them?" Richie whispered, leaning back against the wall. It was clear that he still had some difficulty accepting their telepathic abilities. Teleportation, yes. But not telepathy -- after all, you couldn't see telepathy at work. "They'll be here soon," Ami nodded. "Megabyte needed a bit of convincing that you're one of the good guys." "Why aren't I surprised?" Richie muttered. "Well, you did show up in his house with no explanation." "And I got shot for it, thank you very much." Richie sighed, peering back around the corner. "Ruined a good shirt for that kid and he doesn't even appreciate it." "Are you always like this?" Richie's eyes met hers in the dim light of the factory. He had beautiful eyes; as blue as the summer sky, playful and mischievous. Ami immediately felt ridiculous and stupid, noticing his eyes at a time like this. The General was in danger, Megabyte was in danger, and she was behaving like a twelve-year-old with a crush on her Composition teacher. He seemed ready to answer her, then Ami watched as a new look came over his features. He stiffened, rising partially out of his crouch. The same eyes that mesmerized her only a breath before began scanning the corridor, wide and haunted. If tension could be visible, then Richie was the definition of it. He was suddenly wary, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. The figurative cat preparing to stalk. "Maris is close," Richie told her quickly, grabbing her hand. He pulled her to her feet, roughly, dragging her down the corridor behind him. The lighthearted warmth had vanished from his voice, his words and tone crisp and professional. Briefly, she felt a brush of fear and concern from him, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "What about the others, and the General?" "Ami, I've got to keep moving. I'm the decoy, remember?" Richie pulled her behind a pallet of tall barrels. "You can stay here and wait for the others, but I've got to distract her." Ami shook her head. "No way. I'm coming with you. You might need me." Ami spoke a great deal more boldly than she felt at the moment. But she couldn't forget that the woman had shot Richie once-- and threatened his life. What was to stop her from shooting him again and making good on her threat? Richie glared at her. There was no other way to describe the look on his face. It was a glare of parental disdain. "Yeah, I need you to get killed. I don't think so. The ride ends here, Ami. This is where you get off." "Richie, I've been in dangerous situations before." "Not like this, you haven't." The American stared at her and she held his gaze. Finally, he nodded curtly. "Fine. Just remember, you promised to teleport out of here if things get hairy." He turned then, stalking up the next corridor. Ami followed quickly on his heels. "Define hairy." He paused in mid-stride, releasing a low groan. "Now, I know how Mac felt all those years." Then he gripped her by the elbow and pulled her along side him. "Are you Tomorrow People always this stubborn?" "Sometimes. Most times." "Great," Richie grumbled. "Just perfect." "Are Immortals always this surly?" "Only when we're babysitting Tomorrow People." Ami shook her head. Try as he might, Richie Ryan was not about to upset her and get rid of her that easily. He might be able to come back from the dead, but they were all in this together. "At least we pay well." The Immortal did not have an answer for that. *** End of Chapter Twenty-One _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (22/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:25:41 -0500 Perceptions (22/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty-Two She was close. Every cell in his body cried out in warning, every physiological alarm rang inside of him. Richie could sense her ~Presence~, he knew that somewhere in the belly of the dark factory Maris Keillor lurked and waited. Pressed against the wall, he reached into his coat and slowly withdrew the broadsword. It made a slight whistling sound as it brushed against the lining of his coat. "Richie." Ami's voice quivered. "They found General Damon. They're teleporting--" Guided by instinct and by the image of her which burned so deeply in his mind, Richie raised his hand and covered Ami's mouth. Even he could barely hear his low, rough whisper. The time for their playful banter had passed. This was real, this was serious. It was time for him to have a word with Maris. "Quiet. I can sense her." "We can go now." As far as Ami was concerned their job was done; it was time to go home. But his job was only just beginning. Richie spared her a glance. Her eyes were wide with anxiety, alternating between his face and the sword that he held like a second arm. It was an extension of him, one that he could neither ignore nor deny. "She's not going to let you walk away, Ami. None of you. I've got to talk to her." "With that?" The dark eyes indicated the sword. "If I have to. It's what I am," Richie shook his head. He didn't have time to explain. Not here and not now. "Go. Get out of here." "What about you?" "I'm a survivor." He recognized the look on her face. He had seen it on Tessa's face numerous times. He was certain that his own had often mirrored that particular fear mingled with panic and hurt. It cut into his heart far more deeply than he thought anything ever could. Richie grazed her cheek with his fingertips. "I'll be all right. Wait and see. Remember, you promised." Then he kissed her quickly on the cheek and disappeared into the depths of the factory before she could speak another word. To his relief, Ami did not follow. He had to do this. He had to talk to Maris. He had to learn what insanity drove her to this -- this revenge. "Maris?" Richie's voice echoed hollowly in the factory. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that little boys shouldn't play games with the bigger children?" She separated from the shadows like a wraith. The fluorescent lighting of the factory made her skin seem even more pale, her head a crown of red. Blue eyes glittered darkly from the pearlesent face. "I was hoping that it would not come to this. I could show you such *pleasures*, Richie Ryan." "I don't want to fight you, Maris." "Is that why that sword is in your hands?" Richie glanced at the sword, then at the Immortal across the room. "I was hoping that you might see reason and leave the Tomorrow People alone." "Are you their champion now?" Richie shrugged. "Maybe." "They are a scourge Ryan. They will overcome us, and they will destroy all that we are. They are an abomination and must be destroyed." "They're gone, Maris. They've escaped." "I'll find them again." The sound of metal striking against a scabbard rang across the room. The long sword flashed in her hand like a beacon. "But first, I'll have to take care of you." "I don't want to fight you." "Too bad." She was on him in an instant. * * * * * * "Where's Richie?" Adam looked up expectantly at Ami as she appeared in the clearing on the hilltop. "He's -- " Adam noted her slight pause, the tension near her mouth as she spoke. "He's looking for Maris." "Who's Richie?" General Damon looked from one Tomorrow Person to the other. "And why is he looking for Maris Keillor? That woman is a killer." Ami turned her gaze to the factory, her soft response carrying on the wind. "So is Richie, I suppose." "Who is Richie?" General Damon demanded again. "And Frank, get the police. I want that woman picked up--" "Richie Ryan, General." Adam cut in smoothly, his eyes still focused on Ami. He could feel his friend's pain, her worry, and her frustration. He was worried himself. Whatever Richie Ryan was-- he was on their side, and he had helped them. And most importantly, Ami cared a great deal about the Immortal and what happened to him. "He's looking for Maris." "And we can't call the police," Frank added. The General looked from Adam to Frank. It was quickly evident that he didn't know what exactly to make of Adam's information or Frank's words. "Richie Ryan is dead. I saw him take a bullet wound to the chest. Now, someone had better start doing some explaining. And I mean fast. "What exactly has been going on while Megabyte and I were being held hostage by a mad woman?" "It's a long story, General," Frank supplied crisply. "Perhaps we should talk about it elsewhere." Jade shook her head. "I think we should wait for Richie. I mean, he helped us right?" Ami kept her eyes focused on the distant factory. Her words chilled Adam's blood. "It might not make much difference, Jade. It's started." Only the General and Megabyte had to wonder what Ami was talking about. Adam knew, and his heart broke for his friend. And for Richie Ryan. * * * * * * Steel rang against steel, as Richie brought his sword up in defense, easily parrying the initial lunge. Again, Maris lunged and again Richie parried, but the attack was so open and frontal that it pushed Richie back a step. He balanced himself quickly, defending against three more quick, inside attacks. A swipe across his arm, too close, too quick. Richie winced from the sting even as his body's rapid and natural healing began to close the wound. He backed up again, placing himself out of range of the other sword. "What's the matter Ryan? Can't you hit a girl?" Maris' eyes glittered like ice that froze his blood, as Richie circled her warily. "Your head is mine." Richie took the first opening. He moved in sharply, drawing blood with one hit before the woman could properly block his attack. The attack left him open, and his opponent closed in, attempting to regain control of the duel. Richie continued to back off, luring her towards him, all the while hoping that the Tomorrow People were all far, far away by now. Once upon a time, the open frontal attack Maris continued to launch would have weakened him and signaled his defeat. But Richie had learned from his errors; he had learned from dying numerous times with Mac's sword in his chest or abdomen that sometimes a risk had to be taken; sometimes the moment of opportunity came only when the defenses were lowered. Richie knew that it was time to call upon opportunity. Lowering his defense, he came in low and sharp, feeling the sharp jerk of the weapon as his mark hit home. Almost at once, the woman gasped, stepping backward as a dark red stain began to spread across her snow-white sweater. "That's for killing me earlier." Maris looked at her blood soaked hand, and tightened her grip on her sword. "First blood. I'm impressed." "You ain't seen nothin' yet." Richie circled his opponent, occasionally dropping his defense to reach into any opening. He took a few cuts for it, but nothing that didn't begin to heal almost before he truly felt the pain. The clash of steel rang throughout the factory. Closing in, her eyes wild with desperation, Maris left her lower inside undefended. It was the opening Richie had been waiting for. He allowed the woman to lunge, feeling her sword slice through his thigh, sending a thousand ripples of pain through his leg. He cried out. He cried out even as in the same moment his sword sank up to the hilt in her abdomen, her eyes widening in amazement. "I told you that you hadn't seen anything yet." Richie yanked the sword from the Immortal and the woman sank to her knees. Richie panted, his breath coming hard and sharp. His mind only now registered the sharp and biting aches where she had scored hits; he could feel the beginnings of healing, but the pain was still real. She cowered before him, her head lowered, and he brought his blade to rest against the skin of her exposed neck. "Walk away, Maris. Don't make me do this." Slowly her head turned, the cold ice of her blue eyes eating into him. "Let me walk, and I swear I'll slit each of their throats. They don't deserve to live. They are unnatural." "So are we." "But we are meant to rule the world." "No. We're not. They are." "Have you ever seen a mortal bleed from a throat wound, Ryan? It's beautiful. Kill me, because I won't stop until I kill them, your precious Tomorrow People." "Then, I guess there can be only one." Richie raised the sword, and with a silent prayer, the killing blow fell. * * * * * * * From the hilltop, six pairs of eyes watched in amazement as the lower floor of the factory filled with an eerie, pulsing bluish light. Almost in slow motion, each of the lower windows began to blow outward, one after the other, and the faintest tentacles of lightening reaching beyond them. "What the--" General Damon's eyes widened, his voice constricting. Frank whispered one word. The word was a curse; the word was a blessing. The word was a warning and a cry of hope mixed with trepidation. It was a word that made Ami turn away to hide her tears, and made Jade lower her head, her own eyes misted. It was a word that made them all afraid. "Quickening." *** End of Chapter Twenty-Two _________________________________________________________________ "You're crazy!" "People say that to me a lot. But, pardon me, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of the ship." --- Jack & Rose, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (23/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:26:50 -0500 Perceptions (23/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty-Three Richie trembled in the wake of the Quickening, kneeling on the floor of the factory some distance from Maris' body. The last tendrils of power swept over him, making every sense and every nerve intensely and acutely aware. He panted, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. The aftermath of the Quickening was always the worse. The sensations it created were intoxicating; pleasure mingled with pain, reminding him of the gift and curse of Immortality. He forced himself to his feet, guided by some inner instinct. The battle had been met, joined and won. It was time to vacate the premises before the authorities arrived. With any luck, Frank would have contacted the Watchers and they would be here to clean up any loose ends. Whatever the case, it was no longer his concern. His concern was escaping. His concern was protecting himself. And maybe--in a few days, his concern would be seeing that Ami and the remainder of the Tomorrow People were all right. Richie moved stealthily through the factory, retracing his footsteps and chiding himself for any desire he had to check on the Tomorrow People. Because he knew it wasn't the Tomorrow People-- it was a particular English flower with coffee eyes and dark skin. He had to know that Ami was all right; that she would be all right. Even if it was the stupidest, most ridiculous thing that he could do. She could never accept what he was. It was completely opposite to her nature. And he could never stop being what he was. The wisest thing to do would be to head back to his hotel, pack up and catch the next plane out of London. Then again, Richie hadn't always been known for being wise. Twilight was falling as he left the factory behind. He glanced in the direction of the hill, wondering if he should head in that direction. No, the Tomorrow People and Frank should be long gone by now. He would make it on foot; he'd done it before. He barely had the time to notice the bright flash that appeared in the middle of his path, barely had a moment to catch his breath or brace himself before a figure collided with him. "Richie," Ami wrapped herself around him, her head resting against his chest. Reflexively his arms wrapped around her, and he held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. He could feel the slight tremors of her body, he could hear her soft sobs as she buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair, his voice low in her ear. "I'm all right." "I was so afraid," her words were choked with ragged sobs. "I'm all right," he repeated, tightening his hold on her. They were completely incompatible, and from two very different worlds. But all that mattered at that moment was holding her, soothing her, and knowing that she was fine. The rest he decided to worry about later. * * * * * * General Damon sat silently while the pieces of the puzzle slowly fell into place. He had to admit, the story that the Tomorrow People and Ryan told him was unbelievable. Men and women who lived forever unless you decapitated them was about as viable a story as teenagers who could teleport. And, Bill Damon supposed, that was why he believed it. That and the fact that the evidence couldn't be ignored. He had been at a few of the scenes of an Immortal duel; he had seen Ryan dead, shot through the heart; and he had seen the Quickening rippling through the deserted factory. It was hard for him to reconcile the vibrant young man lounging on his family room sofa with a sword-wielding killer. Richie Ryan, frozen at the age of nineteen, didn't look out of place among the Tomorrow People. Outwardly, he appeared no more dangerous than the Tomorrow People, laughing and talking easily with them. For all appearances, he looked the part-- a nineteen-year-old tourist, completely taken with his new friends, and completely enraptured with Ami. General Damon wondered if any of the other Tomorrow People had noticed that particular complication. "So, what will you do now, Richie?" General Damon eased into the conversation. "Stay in London?" The thought of *that* happening made the General long for the bottle of antacid tablets he kept in his desk drawer. Ryan may look young and innocent, and he certainly was charming, but he *was* dangerous. He may have turned out to be one of the good guys, but he was as deadly as the English broad sword he carried. The thought of the young Immortal spending too much time near the Tomorrow People worried Damon a great deal. Richie glanced at him, but only briefly. His blue eyes seemed to drift back toward Ami of their own accord. "Maybe for a few more days. I have to go home sometime." "The sooner the better," Megabyte muttered. Damon gave his son a sharp glare, grateful that only he was close enough to hear the words. But he also felt guilt as he turned back to the youngsters in the room, missing whatever comment Jade made to set the others laughing. Guilt, because as he watched Richie take Ami's hand, he couldn't help but echo his son's sentiment. The sooner the better. One thing the Tomorrow People did not need was Immortals. The sooner the better. *** End of Chapter Twenty-Three _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (24/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:28:25 -0500 Perceptions (24/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty-Four It was time to move on. Richie knew this, had been telling himself the same thing for the past two weeks, but it hadn't helped him to put his feet into gear and leave London behind. Every day he told himself that he would stay only another day or two; every day for the past two weeks he had told himself that. He didn't even think that he was listening to himself anymore. The truth was that Richie didn't want to leave London. He didn't want to leave *her*. It was complete and total foolishness and he knew it. There was absolutely nothing he could do for Ami Jackson-- except put her life in danger. The Tomorrow People had an even bigger secret to protect than Immortals did; namely because there were probably far too many Immortals out in the world who thought like Maris Keillor. And those who wouldn't want the Tomorrow People dead would want to use them for their own twisted purposes. His presence acted as a beacon, calling attention to them. He should have been on the first plane to Seacouver the moment he had Maris' Quickening. He should have headed straight to the airport and never looked back. But then again, Richie had never been known for doing what he should do. But this was it, Richie decided. He had called the airport this morning. The ticket had been reserved and paid for before Ami, Adam and Jade showed up at his hotel, before he had a chance to change his mind when he looked into Ami's dark eyes again. Besides, Richie kept telling himself, she was eighteen. She was a kid. Too young for him, and he was too old for her. And that was why he'd been finding excuses to stay in London for two weeks. No, he couldn't even believe his own lies. Still, it was definitely time to move on. He was beginning to get too comfortable here, too comfortable with the Tomorrow People. He had his life to lead, and they had theirs. And their lives were far too different for them to keep company for very long. He was a killer; like it or not, he was definitely a killer. And they were -- they were the hope for a better world of tomorrow. Not the greatest combination. Saying goodbye was going to be the hardest part. Not just to Ami, but to the others as well. Even to Megabyte, who for all his sarcasm and indifference had actually managed to grow on Richie as well. "You're leaving." Adam sat beside him on the park bench. The young Australian watched his fellow Tomorrow People kicking a soccer ball back and forth between them. Richie nodded. Adam had never been one lacking in perception. "You don't seem shocked." Adam shrugged. "I knew you would eventually. We all did. It was just a matter of when." Turning to Richie, Adam studied the Immortal for a moment. Although the look lasted only a heartbeat, Richie felt like Adam had seen to the depths of his soul. "We like you Richie. Even knowing that you are what you are, we like you. It's nice to know that there are still some good guys left in the world." "You think I'm a good guy?" Richie's gaze challenged him. "General Damon seems to think that I'm an armed and dangerous killer, and you think that I'm a good guy?" "If you had a choice, would you do it?" The question confused him. "Would I do what? Be Immortal?" "Would you kill? If you had a choice, would you be a part of the Game?" "Hell no," Richie didn't even think about the question. Once, he had envied Duncan MacLeod's Immortality. That had been before his own death, before he started carrying a sword, before he began to carry the faces of those he killed in his memory. Just fights or not, every kill haunted him. He carried a part of every one of those Immortals with him; even Maris. "I wanted it once, but--" Richie shrugged, letting the sentence hang unfinished. Adam nodded as if the Immortal's words had confirmed something he was thinking. "Then you are one of the good guys. It's just a matter of perception. Everyone perceives things differently." Without waiting for a response, the Tomorrow Person rose and joined his friends in their soccer match. Richie sat back against the bench and watched. Maybe all of life was just a matter of perception. Maybe, in a world where everything was not simply black or white, people like the Tomorrow People did see him as one of the good guys. And maybe there was hope for the world yet. ***End of Chapter Twenty-Four _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions (25/25) Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:29:04 -0500 Perceptions (25/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story By Michele R Mason Chapter Twenty-Five Richie hated good-byes. He really had hoped to leave London=20 without lengthy good-byes, but when he heard the knock on=20 the hotel room door that morning, he knew that was not to=20 be the case. The Tomorrow People, his newfound friends, had=20 come to see him off. Even Megabyte was in attendance, but=20 Richie had gotten the feeling that the young man was more=20 than happy to see Richie Ryan leave London once and for=20 all. They had each said their bit, wishing him a safe trip, and=20 inviting him to return. Then, one by one, they disappeared=20 with bright flashes of light until only Ami remained. She=20 had been silent and watchful the entire time, allowing the=20 others to speak to him while she stood safely in the=20 shadows. Now, Ami stood a few feet away, hands shoved into=20 the back pockets of her jeans. She watched him expectantly,=20 through partially lowered eyes, rocking slowly on her=20 heels. "I guess this is it," Ami remarked quietly.=20 Richie cursed silently. This was going to be the worse. A=20 part of him wished that Ami had left with the others; a=20 part of him was happy that she stayed. Slumping against the=20 wall, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and forced=20 a smile. "Yeah, this is where I came in at." "Maybe you'll get back someday. See some more of London."=20 And more of each other. Richie knew they both thought it,=20 but neither of them said it.=20 "Maybe. I travel a lot, so you never know." He shrugged.=20 "And if you ever get to Seacouver, look me up." "If I'm ever there, I will Richie." She smiled and he=20 wondered if it was biologically possible for a heart to=20 melt. "There can't be that many Richie Ryan's in Seacouver,=20 can there?" Richie chuckled. "I never took a census or anything, but I=20 figure that I'm sort of unique and one of a kind." "You are," Ami agreed. "Yeah, well, so are you."=20 They stared at one another in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Ami sighed. "I'd better go. And you have a plane=20 to catch." "Right. I wouldn't want to miss my flight." Richie leaned=20 down and picked up his bag and the sword case. His taxi=20 wouldn't wait forever, anyway. Slinging the bag over his=20 shoulder, he crossed over to where she stood. "Take care of=20 yourself, okay? All of you guys. You're all really special.=20 So try to stay out of trouble. I mean, I'd be really upset=20 if I found out something happened to you -- guys." "Right," Ami nodded. "You take care of yourself too. I=20 mean=85just be careful." "Don't lose my head?" Richie volunteered, with a bright=20 smile. "Don't worry, I happen to like it where it is, and=20 don't plan on letting go of it anytime soon." "That's good to know." Staring down at her, Richie felt the all too familiar lump=20 working its way into his throat. The one that made it hard=20 to breathe and cut off any and all rational thought. How=20 she'd managed to have that effect on him in just the span=20 of a few days, Richie would never know. He would never even=20 be able to guess. He wondered if this is what Mac felt the=20 first time he saw Tessa. If it was, he was beginning to=20 understand Mac and Tessa's relationship a lot more than he=20 ever had before. He realized at that moment that he might never see her=20 again. There was a very good possibility that he wouldn't=20 see her again.=20 He didn't like how much that thought frightened him. But what frightened him even more was the damage he would=20 do if he remained.=20 He leaned forward, intending to brush his lips across her=20 cheek and make a quick retreat, but it didn't happen that=20 way. As he leaned, she turned her face ever so slightly, so=20 that his mouth brushed softly against hers. Nothing more=20 than that; just a light touch against her mouth, but enough=20 to make his catch his breath. Enough to make his heart=20 pound painfully. Enough to make Richie realize exactly how=20 tempting it was to remain in London. More than enough to=20 tell Richie Ryan that he was falling in love with this=20 young woman. Correction, he had already fallen in love in with her. Richie hugged her, wrapping his free arm around her back.=20 He didn't trust himself to speak, so hugging her seemed the=20 next best thing. This was the reason he'd been in London=20 for two weeks too long; the young woman in his arms was the=20 reason he hadn't been able to think clearly half the time=20 that he had been here. The feelings she stirred up were=20 maddening and chaotic, a sense of longing and devotion that=20 he wasn't quite sure what to do with. But staying there was far too dangerous to her and to the=20 Tomorrow People. He'd been over this territory already.=20 Time and again, he'd held this conversation with himself.=20 The Tomorrow People couldn't protect themselves against=20 people like Maris Keillor. After all, they didn't carry=20 swords, and while they may have been capable of some rather=20 fantastic feats, coming back from the dead wasn't among=20 them. "Ami," he whispered her name into her hair. He wanted to=20 say something; anything to let her know how he felt. He=20 wanted to let her know the reasons he was leaving, to let=20 her know that it was for her own protection that he was=20 walking away. Instead all he said was, "Take real good care=20 of yourself." She raised her head, meeting his eyes. "I know, Richie. And=20 I will." She knew. Of course, she knew. She was telepathic. He still=20 wished that he could say the words.=20 Richie nodded. "Probably next year, you know I'll be back=20 in London. Mac goes to Paris once a year, so -- " He let=20 the words trail off. He would never be back in London if he=20 could help it; and if he ever were to return to London, he=20 would probably be trying to keep his head and would=20 definitely avoid the Tomorrow People. They both knew it. "Right," Ami agreed with a half-smile. Then she leaned up=20 and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Have a safe flight."=20 Then, before he could say another word, she slipped from=20 his arms, and giving him a small wave, disappeared in a=20 flash of light. Richie forced himself to take several deep breaths. He=20 tried to ignore the knife twisting in his heart. He was=20 doing them a favor. Both of them.=20 It was a litany he repeated all the way to the airport. *** End *** _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michele R Mason Subject: TPFICT: Perceptions Afterword Date: 18 Mar 1998 11:48:00 -0500 Perceptions Afterword: Comments From the Author Well, it's over and done with, and I would like to address a few issues regarding this story. First things first. Is there a continuity problem with this story? Maris Keillor mentions knowing about four Tomorrow People; she's had them under survelliance. What about Kevin and Lisa? No, I did not forget Kevin and Lisa and this is *not* a problem with story continuity. When writing a story, it becomes necessary to trim and paste, snip and cut, and edit it down to maintain the *important* pieces and the proper flow of the story. It's called editing. There were several parts of this story which were cut out (even my betas didn't see them) because they "crowded" the story. These were scenes with Maris and her people. While informative, they made the story drag, so I snipped them. However, these lost snippets did deal with the problem of Maris only going after four Tomorrow People, so I will address that issue here (as best I can without giving away any spoilers on future stories). Maris knows about Kevin & Lisa, and there are several reasons that she neglected to pay any attention to them. First, Lisa has effectively 'gone to ground' in this universe. Sort of a witness protection program -- she's vanished. Kevin is living a rather quiet and unobtrusive life; because his name was never entered into any official records by Mulvaney, Masters, or Galt, his only connection to the TP was via Megabyte and Adam. He's no longer with them; he's no longer connected. Maris began tracking the TP through Megabyte and General Damon; she was aware (like Masters and Galt) that the third teleporter was Damon's son. Yes, there is more to the story than that basic skeleton. ButI wouldn't want to spoil future works :) Question number two, I can hear the question being asked: Why Richie? To that, I respond: Why not Richie? I will admit, Richie Ryan is (was) not my favorite character on Highlander. And, he was a surprisingly difficult character for me to write, although he was featured in more of my Highlander fiction than Duncan MacLeod was. (I'm also not partial to the character of Duncan; I am partial to the actor, Adrian Paul). Then, The Powers That Be killed Richie and a cry of outrage rose from Richie fans everywhere. Perhaps, had the sixth season of Highlander had more solid footing; perhaps had it stayed true to what we in fandom knew Highlander to be, and those same Powers That Be explained Richie's death and its aftermath in a better fashion, the loss of this character would have been justified and acceptable. However, this didn't happen. And a great many Highlander fans wish that Richie was still alive. Myself included, though I was not a Richie fan. The character had his moments and his purpose, and I dearly miss his presence on Highlander. So, when I decided to tackle a Highlander story, I decided that it would be written in an alternate universe where Richard Ryan never died. Richie lives; it was that simple. The prequel to Perceptions, Forever Young, was my tribute to Richie and that simple truth: in this world, Richie lives. After Richie's appearance in Forever Young, I realized that I had to continue the story. It was too tempting to ignore: Given two complete opposites--the Tomorrow People who cannot kill and Immortals, whose lives revolve around death and darkness -- I had to wonder how these two elements would work together. Because bringing in an Immortal was not a simple matter of black and white: Richie isn't evil and the Tomorrow People aren't pure goodness and shining light. Everything has shades of gray. As for the romance factor -- well, that surprised me initially. I knew Richie was the sort to be attracted to a pretty face, but I never expected his feelings to move beyond that. And I certainly didn't expect Ami's own feelings toward the rather reckless Immortal. I knew all the reasons why it couldn't work and shouldn't have even been a possibility -- he's Immortal, she's not, he's too old for her, etc. Unfortunately, I couldn't do anything to stop the chemistry from developing . . . and in a way, I'm glad that I didn't. Will Richie and Ami see one another again? I think that's pretty much a given. How it happens--when it happens and what happens will make for interesting writing. And I hope interesting reading. Hope that everyone enjoyed reading this story, and likes the universe that is unfolding. In three days, I'll be getting married, so my next post will be under the name "Michele Bumbarger" -- don't be surprised. Until the next posting, Michele R Mason March 18, 1998 _____________________________________ Michele Sedai's Door to Science Fiction & Fantasy http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/index.htm Highlander, Tomorrow People, and fan fiction "Now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me. Every way that a person can be saved." ---Rose Calvert, "Titanic" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (0/25) Date: 19 Mar 1998 02:35:10 -0500 Reunions (0/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Disclaimer & Author's Notes Hi, welcome to the fifth story in the Forever Tomorrow Universe. For those curious about the preceding four stories, I recommend checking out the Forever Tomorrow Page at Michele Mason's website at http://www.mindspring.com/~chelesedai/4ever/index.htm. This story is the immediate sequel to "Perceptions" and "Promises Broken" as well as "Shadows on a Changing Wind." If you haven't read any of these stories, I've tried to fill enough blanks so that you can follow what happened. A little bit of legalese: First up, the Highlander universe. The characters of Conner MacLeod, Methos (a.k.a. Adam Pierson), Joe Dawson, Duncan MacLeod, Richie Ryan, Hugh Fitzcairn, James Horton, Rachel MacLeod, Canwulf, Darius, Heather MacLeod, the Watchers, the Hunters, the Kurgan, and Kane do not belong to me. (It looks like a long list of characters but bear in mind that many of them are mentioned in passing only). Nor does the concept of Immortality and the Game belong to me. They belong to Panzer/Davis, Rysher/Gaumont Television. Neither do the characters of Adam Newman, Jade Weston, Megabyte Damon, Ami Jackson, General William Damon, and Frank Addleman belong to me. Instead, they belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra and ITV Television. The character of Maris Keillor belongs to Michele Mason (soon to be Bumbarger) and appears in the story "Perceptions". The characters of Catriona Fraser, Marion MacLeod, Cameron Fraser, and any remaining characters belong to me. Catriona makes her first appearance in the story, "Shadows on a Changing Wind." Please do not archive this anywhere without permission from me but feel free to print it for personal use. Special thanks to my beta reader, Michele Mason for her feedback as well as her patience for putting up with my occasional going off on tangents, and for her prompting and support. This story will be posted twice a week (excepting next week when I go on break). As Michele mentioned in her notes for "Perceptions", Highlander makes for a darker universe. So this story gets a PG-13 rating due to mild profanity, some violence, and darker content. Side note: Chapter 10 of this story had to be edited for content (or it might not have made the list); for anyone curious, the whole chapter will be posted at both the Forever Tomorrow site as well as the Highlander site. In the editing, I was, unfortunately, forced to remove pieces that had relevance to the story; I solved the problem by having two of the characters summarize what occurred in the cut portions later on. Thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed putting my pen (computer) to committing it. Any feedback, questions, and comments are welcome. Caroline Fales _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (1/25) Date: 19 Mar 1998 02:40:13 -0500 Reunions (1/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Caroline Fales Chapter One Glenfinnan, on the shores of Loch Shiel, Scotland 1998 "Some day, huh?" General William Damon said, affectionately squeezing his son's arm. "You can say that again," Megabyte said, "I don't know what was worse the cold or your singing." "I'm a great singer," Damon said good-naturedly, "You just don't have any taste." "Yes, I do." Megabyte punctuated his statement with a light punch to the arm. His father pretended to wince then mock-twisted Megabyte's arm back. A mini-wrestling match ensued. Damon lost footing and slipped to the ground, Megabyte pinning him down. "You're getting slow, old man," Megabyte teased. "You think so?" "I know so," Megabyte said smugly. Then his father deftly flipped him off, the redhead falling back on the grassy bank of the loch. His father's head loomed over him. "Give it up, Junior or I'll do the most horrible thing I can think of." "Oh yeah and what is that? And don't call me that." Damon flexed his hands, grinning openly. Megabyte started skittering back. "Oh no. Don't you dare." His father grabbed him before he could get too far and began tickling him unmercifully. Megabyte guffawed even as he tried to escape. It was pure luck that finally enabled him to wriggle free. Exhausted, both of them collapsed near their fishing poles. Sporadically, one of them would burst into a fit of laughter. Damon watched his son fondly. "Yep, it sure has been some day." ***** Megabyte was whistling as he and his Dad headed back to their inn. Darkness had crept up on them and left them scrabbling to get their fishing gear. He was glad his father had actually come through on one of his promises. A father and son thing that Damon usually never had time for but somehow it had come about anyway. If today was any indication of the rest of their trip together, he couldn't wait for tomorrow. "So what are we up for tomorrow?" Megabyte asked, looking towards the inn with undisguised longing. True, he was from Vermont and he was used to cold weather but Scotland on a normal day made Vermont seem like a day in Georgia. Damon followed his son's gaze, patting his son's shoulder. "Bear up, Megabyte. We're almost there and as soon as we get in, Rachel will have supper ready for us. And you can work on trying to say two coherent words in a row to her ." Megabyte felt his face grow warm. He'd been here for less than two days and his Dad had already found something new to tease him about. It would have been easier to rail back if it hadn't been true. Rachel MacLeod, the proprietor of the inn, was one of the most attractive women he'd ever seen. She also had a mind like a steel trap. For some reason, every time he tried to say anything to her it came out twisted or completely stupid. He had a feeling she put up with him out of politeness more than anything else, like the old credo 'The Customer is Always Right'. What was worse, his Dad and most of the locals found the whole situation amusing. Any retort he might have given was cut off by the shattering sound of a gun. His father tensed, military-training rising to the forefront. Megabyte peered into the darkness. Everything seemed normal. "Could've been a hunter out on the moor," Megabyte guessed weakly. Somehow he had the feeling that they weren't going to be that lucky. "No. It was too loud for that," Damon noiselessly put down his share of the gear, removing his gun from the holster concealed beneath his leather jacket. "Hey, I thought you were on vacation," Megabyte protested. "Shh. I am. That's why I brought the smaller revolver. Stay here." "No way. I'm--" "Don't argue, Marmaduke. Stay here," Damon admonished sternly. Damon padded off silently, working his way around the stone edifice. Megabyte hesitated for only a moment then began following. His Dad was going to kill him but what else was new? Trailing his father, Megabyte skirted past the stone storage house, to find his Dad crouched by a stone wall. Damon turned as Megabyte crawled over to him. Even in the blackness, Megabyte could tell he was in a lot of trouble for this. "Why don't you ever listen to me?" hissed Damon. Megabyte shrugged and peered over the fence. Another shot rang out. He ducked thinking that someone had seen him. The pressure of his Dad's hand on his shoulder and the shake of his head reassured him. Cautiously, he took a second look. In an adjoining field, two figures were engaged in a deadly dance. One had a gun, which he repeatedly fired at the other. Staggering, the other figure retreated back holding a sword aloft. A sword. An immortal. The Game. All three of these things raced instantaneously through Megabyte's mind. This is wrong, he thought. He knew from what Richie had told them that immortals fought with swords not with guns. Someone's not playing by the rules, he thought. "He doesn't stand a chance," Damon said, coming to the same conclusion. Indeed, he proved to be all too correct. Another shot flew and the man with the gun removed a large ax from his trenchcoat. By this time, his opponent had fallen to the ground and was now trying to crawl away. Beside him, Damon tensed as if ready to jump into the fray. Megabyte grabbed his arm, "We can't interfere. Remember what Richie said." "I'm not going to stand around and watch this happen," Damon argued. But in the end, that was exactly what he did. Before Damon had moved an inch, the ax was raised and descended. Megabyte felt the bile rising in the back of his throat. It was all he could do to hold down his lunch. Then he noticed something that caused him to momentarily forget the need to retch. No quickening, no lightning, no anything. The night was as calm as ever without so much as a hint of a disturbance. "He wasn't one of them," Damon whispered, "He--" Damon slumped forward. In alarm, Megabyte pivoted around to see a gun descending towards his head, feeling the sickening thud as it connected. Oblivion whirled before him, threatening to claim him. Gotta teleport, he thought muzzily. But he was having a hard enough time trying to stave off the unconsciousness. There was no way he was going to be able to get up enough concentration to teleport anywhere. /Adam, Jade, Ami .../ he groaned mentally. The last thing he saw before he fell into the wave that rose up to meet him was the shape of a three-sided tattoo on his assailant's wrist. *** end of Chapter One _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (2/25) Date: 19 Mar 1998 02:41:50 -0500 Reunions (2/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Caroline Fales Chapter Two Somewhere in the South Pacific Jade bit her lip as she watched her opponent make his move. One long-fingered hand confidently picked the weapon of his choice, moved it, then sat back in satisfaction. She stared. Black Knight to White King in four. Groaning, she wondered why she'd ever agreed to engage Adam in a game of chess. If Megabyte were here, he'd be having a long laugh at her folly, all the while saying 'I told you so.' Well, at least I'm brave enough to try, she thought a bit savagely. Megabyte claimed he didn't like chess, that it was boring. The real truth was he knew just how good Adam was and had no intention of humiliating himself. A glance revealed that Adam was patiently waiting for her to make her move. Her eyes flew over the board desperately. She tried to remember everything her cousin Davey had tried to teach her about the game. The basic game was easy enough but Adam was no novice. She was at a distinct disadvantage and they both knew it. He already had a number of her pieces. Every move she made, he countered and posed a more difficult one. Adam, she was convinced, was a born strategist. Time to choose. A piece of advice Davey had given her suddenly sprang to mind, "If you come up against a better opponent and it looks like you may lose, try something unexpected. Chance can throw even the most skilled player off." She let her hand alight on her last bishop and played her hand. Then she closed her eyes and waited for him to say, "Checkmate." But that never came. She cracked one lid. He was staring at the board in consternation. Lines furrowed his brow as if he were trying very hard to figure out what she was up to. He moved his rook to counter her advance. And left his king exposed. With her own rook, she captured his piece, scrutinizing the board before she quietly announced, "Checkmate." He had moved too many pieces forward trying to trap her king, she saw clearly now, leaving his own vulnerable. Standing, he gave her a formal bow, "I yield. Great game. Who taught you how to play?" "My cousin Davey and believe me, it had little to do with skill and more to do with luck. You'll beat me next time," she said deprecatorily. "Maybe. Maybe not. Want to try another game?" he asked face alight. "No," she cried, letting herself fall back until the ceiling of the Ship came into view. He chuckled lightly. A sharp pain burst in her temples. She whimpered, clutching them and catching the ghost of a call. /Adam, Jade, Ami..../ an image flashed far too fast for her to see. "Megabyte," she whispered. /Megabyte!/ Ami exclaimed. /What's happened? What's going on?/ "He's in trouble," Adam stood grimly, "Jade and I'll check it out." /I'm coming, too./ /But your mother.../ /Mum will just have to understand./ Ami replied, a note of finality in her message. "Fine. Come on then," Adam said on both levels. Grateful that he wasn't leaving her behind, Jade quickly complied. She could feel him gathering his energy, creating a field even as she was. Sometimes she prolonged the action just feel the experience, the pressure building. But now was not the time. There was a flash, then empty space. ***** They materialized to find themselves outside of an inn. The village before them was merrily lit, down playing the violence they had sensed from their friend. Jade shivered. It was freezing; she wished she'd remembered her coat. Ami touched her arm in concern. She smiled, rubbing her arms. Adam was warily stalking ahead of them. They followed silently, eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Jade tried to reach Megabyte again. Nothing; just an empty place where he should have been. Her throat tightened. Some unknown instinct was driving them around the perimeter of the inn, further out past a storage house, coming to a halt by a stone fence. Something glittered in the moonlight. Adam knelt down and retrieved it. A gun. "General Damon's?" Ami asked. "I'd bet my life on it. But they're long gone." "Who could have done this?" Ami demanded. "And why?" Jade piped in. "I don't know but I mean to find out," Adam said with implacable determination. ***end of Chapter Two _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (3/25) Date: 19 Mar 1998 02:42:55 -0500 Reunions (3/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Caroline Fales Chapter Three How is it these things always happen to me, Damon mused gingerly rubbing his tender head. Better yet, how is it these things always happen when Megabyte's around? At the thought, he looked over at his unconscious son. He lay half-sprawled across a dingy cot. There was a large bruise extending from his temple to part of his cheek that made Damon's temper burst into flames. He forced himself to be calm; there was no way he could get them out of here if he lost his temper and got himself killed. Had Megabyte been awake, it would have been simplicity itself to get out of this place. But Megabyte was not awake, hadn't been for some time. So long that a knot of fear settled in Damon's stomach. He had no idea how long they had been here. His watch had rather surreptitiously vanished, probably removed by their captors. It was an old trick used by interrogators as a part of the softening up process of their prisoners. Make your captive feel disoriented, out of touch, throw them off. Which means we can be expecting a visit soon, he thought. His internal clock judged it to be morning, but early or late, he couldn't distinguish. Damon got up, stretching his tingling legs. The confined cubicle didn't give a lot of room to stretch one's legs but he was restless, feeling that any movement was a triumph over sluggish inaction. Despite the nondescript, spartan accommodations they'd been given, Damon had a fairly good idea where they were. Or what type of building they were in at least. It was a church, an old one at that. Though the cell was small, undistinguished by milky granite walls and lack of a window, there a thousand little things that confirmed his opinion. The sweep of the architecture, the location of an arch. It reminded him of a mission he once ran from the cellars of a church. That had been some time back, before he'd met Megabyte's mother. The church had been a pre-seventeenth century structure in the south of France. He remembered studying every nook and cranny of that place, sealing off any possible escape routes before luring his target in. Perhaps because the mission had been such a success, he'd retained the knowledge though he'd seldom used it. This place was not an exact replica of that old church but it was close. He paced, a habit he'd acquired after observing Adam on various and sundry occasions. The thought brought a small smile to his face, followed on its tail by another. If he knew his son as well as he thought he did, then he knew that Megabyte had either managed to make a connection with them before he was knocked into unconsciousness or else the others had noticed something was amiss. On one hand, that was a comforting notion; it meant someone knew that they were in trouble and help couldn't be too far behind. On the other hand, it was also highly probable that his son's friends would try to come to his aid alone. A situation he was not comfortable with at all. He had no wish to see them come up against a group of individuals who could both kill and kidnap with such apparent ease. His pensive musings and pacings were interrupted by the crack of the heavy wood door. A medium-sized, unremarkable man leveled a gun at him and beckoned him forward. Damon held his hands in plain view, not liking the cool, unconcerned manner in which his captor held the weapon. This one would shoot him with very little compunction and possibly Megabyte as well. "Where are we going?" he asked as he passed out the door where another man had his gun trained on him. "You're wanted," the first one said in a flat tone that didn't encourage further speech. Damon cast one last look back at his son before the door closed behind him, hoping against hope that it would not be the last look at him that he ever got. ***** Megabyte groaned. His first coherent thought was something along the lines of 'oh, my head.' His face was pressed against a piece of musty smelling canvas. He tried to pull himself up more to get away from the harsh rub of cloth than anything else. However, he sat up far too fast and flopped back down again as he passed out. The next time he came to, his head hurt no less but he managed to cling to consciousness by teeth and toenails. He lay still, a queasy churning in his stomach threatening to erupt. The left side of his face felt puffy and hot. He moved a hand and touched it, wincing as he felt the size of the swollen lump on his face. Then a sudden realization sank in. "Dad!" he jerked upright, immediately wishing he hadn't. He leaned against the wall. From what he could see, it appeared he was in a small room of some kind. There was a large, heavy-looking door and no windows. Where..? Those people. The ones who'd killed the Immortal; they must have brought him here. But why? Why hadn't they killed them when the opportunity had presented itself? It didn't make sense. Then again, a beheading of an Immortal with no quickening didn't make much sense either. Where was his father? He had to find him and they had to get out of here before anything else happened. However, he wasn't sure if he could pull up enough concentration to teleport out of here. He was barely holding back a wave of nausea rising in his throat. He should also contact the others. Adam was probably tearing his hair out with worry by now. Yet, he wasn't sure if he had enough strength to send a mental signal as well as teleport out of here. So it came down to a choice. Call the others or handle this himself. He closed his eyes. Adam was going to kill him when he found out. Energy surged and crackled around him like a protective cloak then he vanished. Materializing just outside the door, he clutched the wall dizzily. Then he clambered forward, moving slowly and silently, never noticing an even more silent observer in the corner of the room. His ears didn't pick up the faint whir of a lens as it focused on him. ***** "Well, well. How interesting. Focus on the boy and follow his progress," a rich voice purred. "Shouldn't we stop him?" "By no means. Let's see what else he can do." ***** Megabyte was nervous. This whole scenario was wrong. Where were their captors? Why weren't there any guards around? He'd cased several rooms without any hindrance at all. That in itself made him suspicious. Maybe he'd spent too much time around his Dad but something didn't add up here. If only he didn't feel so light-headed, so weak. He wanted to call the others but he had to find his Dad first. Besides this whole thing smelled of a set up and he wasn't going to lead the others in blindly. He turned a corner. There was one more room next to a set of stairs. How long had he stumbled around blindly in this place? One last door. His heart pounded, what if his Dad wasn't here? What if the whole thing with the Immortal had been a ruse to attract his father's attention? After all, William Damon was a very influential person in certain circles. What if... His hand gripped the door knob. It creaked as it slid open. He crept forward and found his father-- --with the nozzle of a gun pressed against his temple. "Dad!" "Megabyte, get out of here--" the General fell silent as the barrel was pushed harder into his skin. "I wouldn't if I were you. Your little disappearing trick is quite impressive but it won't do your father any good. If you decide to leave, then so will he--in a much more permanent sense," said a pleasant, cultured voice originating from a leather swivel chair that was turned away from Megabyte. "What do you want from us," Megabyte demanded. "The question is," the chair turned around, "how much do you want to keep your father alive?" The man in the chair stared at him, fanaticism burning in his ice-blue eyes. Short, spiky blond hair rested against a rugged, strong face, a face that looked like the proverbial cat who ate the equally proverbial canary. "Who are you?" The man smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Take a seat and we'll discuss how you can be of use to me. As long as you are, your father shouldn't have any worries but... If you disappoint me then Peter over there will just have to make matters unpleasant." Megabyte dropped down in to the offered chair, a cold sweat breaking out. His father's hazel eyes were unreadable, in sharp contrast with the man at the desk whose eyes were all but bursting into flames. The man caught the direction of Megabyte's glance. "Don't worry, Peter's a professional. Your father is in the best of hands. Now tell me all about yourself. And I mean everything. If I sense you're lying or leaving anything out..." "Then Dad's in a lot of trouble, got it," Megabyte muttered. Another smile. "Clever boy." ***end of Chapter Three _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (4/25) Date: 19 Mar 1998 02:44:34 -0500 Reunions (4/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Caroline Fales Chapter Four Catriona Fraser slowed to a halt just before she reached the Glenfinnan Inn. In front of the rustic building were two police cars. She frowned, pulling her car into an empty spot near them. As she got out of her vehicle, misty droplets sprinkled her face and hair. The sky was cloudy--not an uncommon occurrence in the Highlands and it had been raining off and on all day. It looked about ready to start up again. That, too, wasn't uncommon for the area. A petite, red-haired woman stood in front of the inn, deep in conversation with one of the officers. Her green eyes were filled with concern and aggravation. Catriona slowed, wondering if it might be better to come back later. It was too late for that however as the woman sighted her. She waved her over despite looks of displeasure from the officers. Cat mouthed, 'I can come back later.' The other woman shook her head insistently. Knowing that she was committed now, Cat stuck her hands in her pockets and trotted forward. "Hello, cousin Rachel, I'm sorry ta interrupt ye," she apologized. "Think nothin' o' it. If ye gentlemen dinna mind, I 'ave chores tha' must be attended ta. Come along, Cat," Rachel MacLeod said crisply. "Bad time?" Cat asked as they walked away. "Och, we've had a bit o' trouble 'ere. A couple o'tourists did nae return last night. And yon blockheads back there 'ave nothin' better ta do than harass me," Rachel rolled her eyes. "Tourists?" "Aye, a couple o' Americans. I dinna ken what happened ta them. I rather liked them, even if they were tourists," a shadow crossed her face. Cat was about to ask who it was when a raucous roar met them as they stepped inside the inn. One of them, an older man, was shouting rather dramatically, "I tell ye it's the Viking, Canwulf has returned." "Hogwash, Angus. Quit frightenin' the patrons," Rachel said as she strode towards the bar. But Angus had found an audience and wasn't about to let it go. "What about the body, Rachel lass? They say its head was severed." "What's this?" Cat asked with interest. "They found a body in the field beyond the inn last night," Rachel said shortly. "You did nae mention tha'." "Nae, I didna. I didna wish ta frighten ye." Cat let that pass. "Do they think the tourists had somethin' ta do with it?" "That's one line o' thought but I dinna believe it. Not o' them. Now what is it ye'll be needin'?" Pulling out a slip of paper, she began reeling off, "Missus Murray sent me after a bottle o' yer best whisky, some camphor for her cold, oh and some peppermint for her throat. She says it aches." "She's been sayin' things like tha' for more than twenty years now. Always complain' about somethin' or other. 'Tis kind o' ye ta fetch this for her." Catriona shrugged, "It's nae problem. I had nothin' better ta do today anyway." Behind her, Angus was giving a vivid retelling of the legend of Canwulf. "...And then Duncan MacLeod came back from the dead and vanquished the Viking." Though this story was an old one in Glenfinnan, his audience listened enraptured. Rachel muttered darkly, "Stuff and nonsense." As the inn's proprietor went to gather the needed items from the backroom, Catriona turned, leaning against the bar as she listened to the sound of Scottish voices raised in excitement and laughter. It was good to be home after so long. To hear the roll of Scots brogues falling off the tongue. After her first month back, the precise near perfect English she'd practiced in London had slipped away, replaced by a brogue as thick as anyone here's. Of course, Glenfinnan wasn't really her home. The Fraser family seat lay farther east, in Beauly, but she had no desire to see it. That would mean having to see her father again and once in the past four months had been enough. He'd been coldly furious with her for quitting the University, even more so when she told him that she intended go to Glenfinnan. She really didn't know why he protested; it wasn't like he was interested in what she did. No, she had long since learned that Cameron Fraser didn't care what she did so long as it didn't reflect badly on him. And that, she supposed, was why he'd gotten so angry about her departure from Cambridge. More than likely, he'd thought that the trip to Glenfinnan was little more than an attempt to make him look badly to his mother's kin, the MacLeods. It was best to let it go. Whatever relationship she might have had with her father long ago was long gone now. She'd gotten used to the frigid silences, the months without communication, the bitter sarcasm that laced their conversations. After a while, it stopped hurting. And if you keep repeating that over and over, she thought, maybe one day you'll believe it. While Glenfinnan may not have been her ancestral home, it was her spiritual one. Once, long ago, in the dark days after the accident, an uncle of hers had brought her here. They'd stayed no more than a month but the memory of it shone through her memory like a beacon. Here, there were people who were interested in her, family like Rachel, who'd taken Cat into her care a few days after her arrival. Rachel was the only one here who knew of the circumstances of her arrival, though not all of it. As much as she trusted Rachel, she couldn't bring herself to recount to her the more fantastic details of the debacle in London, of herself. She'd come here to be alone but had found herself strangely not. And she was grateful for that. The past four months had been difficult; she'd learned more about herself in that short length of time than she had in the past eight years. While the future was far from certain, she found that it didn't matter. Coming here had enabled her to accept that she was more than just the sum of her flaws, that she was worth more than the guilt she'd heaped on herself. It was a lesson she learned anew everyday, not an easy lesson but she had to move on, to lay down the burden of guilt. The past couldn't be changed but the future could and would be if she had a say. Rachel emerged from the back, passing a brown sack over the counter. "Anythin' else?" "Nae, tha'll do it. My thanks ta ye, cousin." "Is there nothin' I can do for ye?" Rachel asked. "I'm fine but I do thank ye for the thought." "Ye dinna come down ta the village as often o' late. And Walter has said he's seen ye riding into the hills alone. Are ye sure ye dinna wish ta talk?" Rachel pressed hesitantly. Cat smiled, a real genuine smile. "I've been tryin' ta decide what I wish ta do about the future, tha's all." "Ah," Rachel replied sagely, "If ye've need, I'm here ta talk ta whenever ye feel like it." "I know and ye dinna know what a comfort tha' is." Rachel crossed round the bar and gave her a hug. "Och, lassie. Ye've become as dear as me own sister," she considered that, "Dearer. Janet is such a prickly thin'." Cat hugged her. A complete stranger might well have guessed they were sisters. They had the same red hair and fair coloring, MacLeod genes at work. Cat was taller though, six feet of slender, suppleness while Rachel was barely five seven. And then there were differences in the faces; both had high Viking cheekbones and an oval face. But Cat's nose was a shade longer and her gray eyes tended toward a feline slant. Rachel's were large and green, her nose more aquiline. "I would have recognized ye as a Fraser even if I'd not known who ye were," Rachel had said once matter-of-factly, "What with those cat eyes and all that tallness. Frasers are always as tall as oaks." "Come ta dinner soon. We'll have a nice, long talk," Rachel urged. "It's a deal. I hope this mess clears up for ye soon," Cat replied. "So do I. Well, ye'd better go or else Missus Murray will be wonderin' what's become o' ye." After an exchange of farewells, Catriona headed for her car. It was only as she was pulling out that she realized that she had neglected to ask Rachel who the missing tourists were. ***end of Chapter Four _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions footnote Date: 19 Mar 1998 03:09:15 -0500 Hi, As I was reading over my author's notes, I noticed that I said that Chapter 10 was the chapter that was edited for content when in actuality, chapter 9 will be the edited chapter. I apologize for this mistake; my only excuse is the onset of final exams which has me frazzled to say the least. Thanks, Caroline _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jennifer Welk Subject: TPFICT: Triptychon [Part 4 of 5] Date: 19 Mar 1998 14:21:10 -0800 (PST) Triptychon Chapter 4: Discourse of Being Bozeman, Montana The Forresters were sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast and discussing their various plans for the day. "When did Adam say he was coming to retrieve you two?" Anthony asked the twins. "Around eleven our time," said Skyler, after a mouthful of cereal. Just then, there was a flash of light from the living room. Jaycen looked at his brother quizzically, then got up from the table and walked into the living room. The rest of the family heard Jaycen's voice float back to the kitchen, "Adam, you are way early. It's only nine-thirty." The reply was, "I've got a really bad problem with miscalculating time zone differences." Jaycen walked back into the kitchen with Adam in tow. The other Forresters looked surprised. "Yeah, I'd say he's early," said Skyler. "Well, like he said, he messed up the time change," said Jaycen. "Adam, would you like some breakfast?" asked Belinda. "No, I've already eaten, but thanks for asking, Dr. Forrester," Adam replied. Anthony said, laughing, "Adam, you're almost too polite. It's just Belinda and Anthony." "If you say so." Skyler asked, "What's on the agenda for today, Adam?" Adam answered, "I figured we'd work on the two of you gaining control of your teleports first, and then take it from there. Ami said she'd drop by later." "Cool." Belinda and Anthony both stood up from the table. Anthony carried their cereal bowls to the dishwasher while Belinda said, "Well, we have to get to the hospital." She checked her appointment book. "My first appointment's at eleven, and Anthony's shift in the nursery starts at one." They started getting their things together. Aside, Adam asked Jaycen, "What exactly do your parents do?" "Mom's an obstetrician, and--don't laugh, he's good at what he does--Anthony's a maternity nurse." "Wow." "You're telling me. If I remember correctly, Anthony was the only guy in some of his nursing classes." Belinda and Anthony headed for the door, followed by Skyler, Jaycen, and Adam. "We'll see you guys later tonight," Belinda told her sons. Anthony added, "And Adam, please don't be too rough on these guys." "Oh, he won't," Jaycen said. "At least not at first." Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada "Bryce must have messed something up again," said Nerisa. "Why do you say that?" asked Midori. "Tyrran's late. She was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago. And whenever she's late, it's usually because her brother Bryce has done something at the last minute that she has to deal with." "Sounds like when your uncle Shiro was young," Midori said. "Makes you happy you're an only child, doesn't it?" Just as Midori finished her sentence, Tyrran teleported in, looking a little flustered. "Morning, everyone. Sorry I'm late." Nerisa asked, "What did Bryce do this time?" "Believe it or not, this time it wasn't him. Riley needed some help transporting some rather large books back to the library." "Why didn't she have Bryce make himself useful for once?" "Because Bryce wasn't home. He and his friend Eric had to do some preliminary work on Bryce's presentation for the Junior Scientists' Convention." "You didn't teleport those books there, did you?" "No. The risk of getting caught was too great." "Are the two of you going to be the only ones on the island today?" Midori inquired. "No, Midori. Adam went to get the Forrester twins a short while ago--they might be on the island now. Ami said she was going to turn up later to watch the fun," Tyrran answered. Nerisa gave her a weird look. "That reminds me--Nerisa, bring along a change of clothes." "Why?" "Trust me, you'll need them." Then she thought, Now that I've said it, I hope Adam told the Forresters the same thing. An uncharted island in the South Pacific Inside the spaceship, Jaycen asked, "How long did you say Tyrran was going to be?" "Well, I haven't met Nerisa's parents yet, so Tyrran might be dealing with them right now," was Adam's answer. His statement was responded to by a collision of air and light. When it cleared, Tyrran and Nerisa were standing next to the ship's central column. "Then again, they might have just left Nerisa's house." "Probably," Tyrran quipped. "Well, we're all here. Should we start with Teleportation 101?" "Yeah." Adam stood up. "I'll go ahead and say that for the most part, we'll try to speak telepathically. To start with, I think the easiest way to do this is to have Tyrran go outside to the beach." "Oh, I see. You're going to have them teleport out of the ship and onto the beach." Adam nodded. Tyrran flashed out. [[Tyrran? Are you there?]] [[Yeah. Send them on out.]] [[The rest of you heard that, right?]] Adam asked the others. They nodded. [[Who wants to go first?]] After a moment, Skyler volunteered. "Okay," Adam said, "Skyler, you need to concentrate on being outside and not being in here. Think about where Tyrran is and where you are, and pull the two together." Skyler took a deep breath, focused, and teleported. [[Skyler, did you get out all right?]] Adam called. [[Yeah, I made it!]] Adam turned to Jaycen and Nerisa. [[Who's next?]] Research and experimentation labs of the Malloran Corporation, between Ridgefield Park and Fort Lee, New Jersey Van Cade approached a workstation. "Johnson, how are things going?" "Well, from the information you provided us with, Zachary, we've managed to isolate what parts of the person's psyche you want to affect, and incorporate your ability to turn someone's id against their superego, blocking their ego in the process. Now all we have to do is determine the right combination of psychoactive drugs. If we can do that relatively quickly, we should have a prototype ready very soon." Van Cade looked somewhat impressed. "We're progressing faster than we had initially planned. I'm sure Miss Malloran will be pleased." From his workstation nearby, Keith Leonard listened very carefully. He had to get this information into Calvin Baillie's hands. An uncharted island in the South Pacific [Sediment is plowing from river to sea] [Now where are the mighty nations no lines to be seen] [An axe upon the broken ground the sigh of the trees] [And its floating in the ether it brings me to my knees] Ami arrived while Nerisa, Jaycen, and Skyler were practicing long-distance teleportation, in order to deflect the pull of the ship's beacon. Adam and Tyrran were having the three of them teleport to the Forresters' home in Montana [as no one else was there] and then return to the island. "How are they doing?" she asked. "To keep it short, it's been pretty chaotic," Tyrran answered. "Anyone land in the ocean yet?" "All of them, but only twice. They've improved a great deal, as far as teleporting goes," said Adam. "Once they've finished this teleporting run, they're going to need some work on controlling their telepathic abilities," Tyrran reminded him. "Right. Especially Nerisa. Tyrran and I figured it out, we think--Nerisa was under some pretty severe psychological stress that was caused by her reading minds without intending to do so." Tyrran added, "As a result, she needs to learn how to 'shut her telepathy off' when she doesn't need to use it." Behind them, they heard three teleports open and close in rapid succession--first Nerisa, then Skyler, and finally Jaycen. Adam, Tyrran, and Ami turned to face them. Adam said, "You guys are doing great. That's enough long-distance teleporting for now. I think you've got the hang of it." "Well, then, what's next?" Skyler asked. With a gesture from Adam they all sat down on the beach. "Getting a larger measure of control over your telepathy, and if we get through that we'll move on to mindmerging." "Mindmerging?" Jaycen questioned. "Think of it as convergence and retrospection. All of us put our heads together, in a mental sense, and take a collective look back at something that happened to one of us," Ami explained. FBI Regional Headquarters, Newark, New Jersey Calvin Baillie stared at the e-mail message from Keith Leonard on the screen, letting the prospects of what Keith had learned sink in. --This is worse than what all the detractors think,-- he thought to himself. --As for 'Homo sapiens crastinus', this offshoot of humankind, I've heard rumors about them for years, but I didn't think they actually existed. And if Malloran has one helping them in developing a means to control others...Keith is right. This is not good.-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: A Midseason's Dream 02/07 Date: 19 Mar 1998 16:53:06 -0600 (CST) A Midseason's Dream An Original Series story by Beth Epstein Part 2 Elizabeth jaunted into the alley where John had been waiting for ten minutes. They were meeting Juliana and James at the theater because Elizabeth was uncomfortable with James knowing the location of her flat. "Has Stephen been acting strangely around you, Elizabeth?" "No, John, why?" "He doesn't usually ask about our plans when he and Tyso are off doing... whatever the heck it is they do. Yet tonight, Stephen telepathed to me and asked. He seemed rather upset, as well, but I was so impatient with you... well, I'm starting to feel a bit rotten because I snapped at him." "Maybe you should check up on him." [Stephen, is everything all right?] [What? Fine, just fine. Why?] [Are you sure? Look I was sort of distracted earlier, are you sure everything's OK?] [Is there something that you want to tell me?] [Well, if you're going to be cryptic, I guess you don't really want my help if you are in trouble,] John was exasperated. * * * Stephen and Tyso walked down to the disco a few blocks down from the chippy, mulling over why John had suddenly 'pathed back, and why he didn't mention anything about what might have been going on. "It might be nothing," Stephen tried to be positive. "I doubt it." "Hey, watch it!" Stephen's voice cracked. A small boy, 11, maybe 12, had been literally thrown against him. The boy batted a lock of brownish black hair out of his eyes. "Sorry, that idiot just threw me out." "Aren't you a little young to be in?" Tyso laughed. "Well, yeah, but I was tryin' to get him to let me band play here. I'm gonna play the drums here someday." "Sure, kid," Stephen laughed as he and Tyso pushed past the small boy. "Come on, Mike," a young man wearing a military uniform called to the boy. Mike left Stephen and Tyso and approached the man. The soldier looked at the boy's face, and ascertained what the club owner's answer had been. "There's plenty of time, li'l bro, plenty of time." "I want you to see me play before you leave for the army," Mike replied. "I'll see you play someday, bro." Across the street, Stephen watched from the line to get into the disco. "Why are you staring at him, Stephen?" "Didn't you notice the look in his eyes, Tyso? He might be one of us someday." "Well, that's one more of us for John and Liz to worry about." "I wouldn't go that far." Tyso shot his eyebrows up at his elder friend. "At least not yet," Stephen qualified. * * * [You could at least *try* to get on with him,] John 'pathed when the four were walking out of the theater. [The man's crude, John. Besides, it's not like we have to be along for you to date Juliana; that's what you want, isn't it?] [You don't get out enough, Liz.] [I think you have me confused with yourself, John. If nothing else, I could spend time with Stephen and Tyso; I don't get on their cases over every little thing.] [Neither do I! Besides, Liz, you probably had much more fun tonight than if you'd gone with Stephen and Tyso to that loud disco and watched those idiots drooling over the opposite sex all night! You'd die from hyper-glycemia with all the sickeningly sweet lines Stephen is always talking about. I just don't see how you could possibly stand to be around such juvenile behavior.] [You may have a point, but that's an awful thing to say, John. It's a good thing they didn't hear you.] [I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but with you here, I feel I'm less likely to make an idiot of myself.] [Oh, all right. I'll go to this party with you lot next weekend, but that's it.] [Thank you, Elizabeth.] * * * Unfortunately, Liz was wrong, and Stephen and Tyso had accidentally picked up bits of their conversation. The wrong bits. [....I could spend time with Stephen and Tyso...] [....Liz, you probably had much more fun tonight than if you'd gone with Stephen and Tyso to that loud disco and watched those idiots drooling over the opposite sex all night!] Stephen and Tyso simultaneously touched their chins. [You'd die from hyper-glycemia with all the sickeningly sweet lines Stephen is always talking about. I just don't see how you can possibly stand to be around such juvenile behavior.] [You may have a point....] The band, which by no means contained a 12 year-old drummer, started a slow, depressing ballad. It seemed appropriate. "Let's get out of here," Stephen practically whispered. "I feel sick." They got up, left the disco, and walked to a back alley. "Where to, Stephen?" "How about my place? I don't think I could stomach the lab right now." "TIM might be able to..." "I don't want to talk about it, all right!" Stephen snapped. The two jaunted a little ways from Stephen's house and walked in the front door; Stephen's parents liked to know about his comings and goings, even if they didn't know where he was off to. "Hello, Stephen, Tyso," Stephen's dad called from the upstairs study. "Hi," they chorused miserably as they went by, going straight to Stephen's room and closing the door behind them. Mr. Jameson stood, left the study, and knocked on Stephen's door. "Come in." "Is everything all right, boys?" "We're fine, Dad, really." "Did something happen? Are Elizabeth and John all right?" "Um, they're fine," Tyso replied, hoping he sounded like he meant it. "Whatever you say, boys." Mr. Jameson sighed and closed the door. "He didn't believe me, did he?" "I don't think so." "What do you think he'll do?" "He'll keep calling 'round 'til he gets a-hold of John or Elizabeth." "Great. What are we going to do, Stephen?" "I don't know." "Have they ever acted this way before?" "No, not at all. If I'd heard it from a tape recorder rather than telepathically, I'd have been convinced that it was a fake; I mean, John can be a tease sometimes but..." Stephen paused a moment, searching for words, "...it's usually crystal clear he's joking because his thoughts don't match the words. This time they did-- and Liz didn't even stick up for us." "And saying we drool over girls!" "Implying it, really," Stephen corrected. "Still, just because he's such a loner doesn't mean we have to be." "I think 'es dating Liz." Stephen sighed miserably. "You have a crush on her, don't you?" Tyso teased. Stephen held up a hand with his thumb and index finger a couple of centimeters apart. "She'd never go for me, though I'm way too young for her." "You jealous?" "I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't know they were tearing us down behind our backs-- not to mention if they'd just *tell* us about it. You know I asked John casually what he was doing tonight and he evaded the question. Not just after what we overheard in the chippy, earlier this afternoon." Tyso suddenly had an awful thought. "Stephen, you don't think he'd send us into danger unnecessarily? You know, try and get us bumped off by someone else." "I doubt he could, even if he wanted to." Tyso looked at him, fear in his eyes. "Not even subconsciously?" "No. At least, I don't think so. Probably not.... Well, maybe, but I doubt it." End Part 2 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jennifer Welk Subject: TPFICT: Triptychon [Part 4 of 5] Date: 19 Mar 1998 14:24:51 -0800 Triptychon Chapter 4: Discourse of Being Bozeman, Montana The Forresters were sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast and discussing their various plans for the day. "When did Adam say he was coming to retrieve you two?" Anthony asked the twins. "Around eleven our time," said Skyler, after a mouthful of cereal. Just then, there was a flash of light from the living room. Jaycen looked at his brother quizzically, then got up from the table and walked into the living room. The rest of the family heard Jaycen's voice float back to the kitchen, "Adam, you are way early. It's only nine-thirty." The reply was, "I've got a really bad problem with miscalculating time zone differences." Jaycen walked back into the kitchen with Adam in tow. The other Forresters looked surprised. "Yeah, I'd say he's early," said Skyler. "Well, like he said, he messed up the time change," said Jaycen. "Adam, would you like some breakfast?" asked Belinda. "No, I've already eaten, but thanks for asking, Dr. Forrester," Adam replied. Anthony said, laughing, "Adam, you're almost too polite. It's just Belinda and Anthony." "If you say so." Skyler asked, "What's on the agenda for today, Adam?" Adam answered, "I figured we'd work on the two of you gaining control of your teleports first, and then take it from there. Ami said she'd drop by later." "Cool." Belinda and Anthony both stood up from the table. Anthony carried their cereal bowls to the dishwasher while Belinda said, "Well, we have to get to the hospital." She checked her appointment book. "My first appointment's at eleven, and Anthony's shift in the nursery starts at one." They started getting their things together. Aside, Adam asked Jaycen, "What exactly do your parents do?" "Mom's an obstetrician, and--don't laugh, he's good at what he does--Anthony's a maternity nurse." "Wow." "You're telling me. If I remember correctly, Anthony was the only guy in some of his nursing classes." Belinda and Anthony headed for the door, followed by Skyler, Jaycen, and Adam. "We'll see you guys later tonight," Belinda told her sons. Anthony added, "And Adam, please don't be too rough on these guys." "Oh, he won't," Jaycen said. "At least not at first." Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada "Bryce must have messed something up again," said Nerisa. "Why do you say that?" asked Midori. "Tyrran's late. She was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago. And whenever she's late, it's usually because her brother Bryce has done something at the last minute that she has to deal with." "Sounds like when your uncle Shiro was young," Midori said. "Makes you happy you're an only child, doesn't it?" Just as Midori finished her sentence, Tyrran teleported in, looking a little flustered. "Morning, everyone. Sorry I'm late." Nerisa asked, "What did Bryce do this time?" "Believe it or not, this time it wasn't him. Riley needed some help transporting some rather large books back to the library." "Why didn't she have Bryce make himself useful for once?" "Because Bryce wasn't home. He and his friend Eric had to do some preliminary work on Bryce's presentation for the Junior Scientists' Convention." "You didn't teleport those books there, did you?" "No. The risk of getting caught was too great." "Are the two of you going to be the only ones on the island today?" Midori inquired. "No, Midori. Adam went to get the Forrester twins a short while ago--they might be on the island now. Ami said she was going to turn up later to watch the fun," Tyrran answered. Nerisa gave her a weird look. "That reminds me--Nerisa, bring along a change of clothes." "Why?" "Trust me, you'll need them." Then she thought, Now that I've said it, I hope Adam told the Forresters the same thing. An uncharted island in the South Pacific Inside the spaceship, Jaycen asked, "How long did you say Tyrran was going to be?" "Well, I haven't met Nerisa's parents yet, so Tyrran might be dealing with them right now," was Adam's answer. His statement was responded to by a collision of air and light. When it cleared, Tyrran and Nerisa were standing next to the ship's central column. "Then again, they might have just left Nerisa's house." "Probably," Tyrran quipped. "Well, we're all here. Should we start with Teleportation 101?" "Yeah." Adam stood up. "I'll go ahead and say that for the most part, we'll try to speak telepathically. To start with, I think the easiest way to do this is to have Tyrran go outside to the beach." "Oh, I see. You're going to have them teleport out of the ship and onto the beach." Adam nodded. Tyrran flashed out. [[Tyrran? Are you there?]] [[Yeah. Send them on out.]] [[The rest of you heard that, right?]] Adam asked the others. They nodded. [[Who wants to go first?]] After a moment, Skyler volunteered. "Okay," Adam said, "Skyler, you need to concentrate on being outside and not being in here. Think about where Tyrran is and where you are, and pull the two together." Skyler took a deep breath, focused, and teleported. [[Skyler, did you get out all right?]] Adam called. [[Yeah, I made it!]] Adam turned to Jaycen and Nerisa. [[Who's next?]] Research and experimentation labs of the Malloran Corporation, between Ridgefield Park and Fort Lee, New Jersey Van Cade approached a workstation. "Johnson, how are things going?" "Well, from the information you provided us with, Zachary, we've managed to isolate what parts of the person's psyche you want to affect, and incorporate your ability to turn someone's id against their superego, blocking their ego in the process. Now all we have to do is determine the right combination of psychoactive drugs. If we can do that relatively quickly, we should have a prototype ready very soon." Van Cade looked somewhat impressed. "We're progressing faster than we had initially planned. I'm sure Miss Malloran will be pleased." From his workstation nearby, Keith Leonard listened very carefully. He had to get this information into Calvin Baillie's hands. An uncharted island in the South Pacific Sediment is plowing from river to sea Now where are the mighty nations no lines to be seen An axe upon the broken ground the sigh of the trees And its floating in the ether it brings me to my knees Ami arrived while Nerisa, Jaycen, and Skyler were practicing long-distance teleportation, in order to deflect the pull of the ship's beacon. Adam and Tyrran were having the three of them teleport to the Forresters' home in Montana [as no one else was there] and then return to the island. "How are they doing?" she asked. "To keep it short, it's been pretty chaotic," Tyrran answered. "Anyone land in the ocean yet?" "All of them, but only twice. They've improved a great deal, as far as teleporting goes," said Adam. "Once they've finished this teleporting run, they're going to need some work on controlling their telepathic abilities," Tyrran reminded him. "Right. Especially Nerisa. Tyrran and I figured it out, we think--Nerisa was under some pretty severe psychological stress that was caused by her reading minds without intending to do so." Tyrran added, "As a result, she needs to learn how to 'shut her telepathy off' when she doesn't need to use it." Behind them, they heard three teleports open and close in rapid succession--first Nerisa, then Skyler, and finally Jaycen. Adam, Tyrran, and Ami turned to face them. Adam said, "You guys are doing great. That's enough long-distance teleporting for now. I think you've got the hang of it." "Well, then, what's next?" Skyler asked. With a gesture from Adam they all sat down on the beach. "Getting a larger measure of control over your telepathy, and if we get through that we'll move on to mindmerging." "Mindmerging?" Jaycen questioned. "Think of it as convergence and retrospection. All of us put our heads together, in a mental sense, and take a collective look back at something that happened to one of us," Ami explained. FBI Regional Headquarters, Newark, New Jersey Calvin Baillie stared at the e-mail message from Keith Leonard on the screen, letting the prospects of what Keith had learned sink in. --This is worse than what all the detractors think,-- he thought to himself. --As for Homo sapiens crastinus, this offshoot of humankind, I've heard rumors about them for years, but I didn't think they actually existed. And if Malloran has one helping them in developing a means to control others...Keith is right. This is not good.-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Caroline Fales Subject: TPFICT: Reunions (5/25) Date: 20 Mar 1998 00:17:32 -0500 Reunions (5/25) A Forever Tomorrow Story Caroline Fales Chapter Five It was flooding when they returned to Glenfinnan. Actually it was only raining--very hard, fast rain that was coming down by the bucketsful. And it was dark, a gloomy, steel- gray that twisted what little light there was into a parody of itself. Thunder growled in the distance, an ominous sound heightening the ambiance of the scene which, Adam had to admit right now, had plenty. "Well, we're in the right place," she unfurled the umbrella she'd insisted on carrying. "What?" Adam ducked under the tent-like arch, grateful for any shield against the natural elements. "It's raining, it's always raining in Scotland. I came here on holiday once with Mum. It rained almost the entire trip off and on. It's why I brought the umbrella," she said nonchalantly. "I'm glad one of us was prepared. I've never seen so much rain in my life." "Get used to it. If we spend any amount of time here this won't be the first storm we get caught in," Jade said dryly, "I think Ami had the right idea to duck out of this one." That wasn't exactly true. Ami hadn't ducked out of anything; she'd been quite set on accompanying them. Until Sherri Jackson stepped in and put her foot down in refusal. At least temporarily; they had a bridal shower to attend, some cousin or other near relation. And Ami simply couldn't miss it, Mrs. Jackson had insisted. Personally, Adam thought that this was just an excuse to keep Ami out of trouble. He couldn't entirely fault her for that. On the other hand, Ami sounded about ready to step in front of a bus or anything else that would put her out of the misery of being subjected to a houseful of squealing relations. "Where to, O Fearless Leader?" Jade asked impudently. He raised an eyebrow. "I think you've been spending waaaaaay to much time around Megabyte." "Haven't we all?" It was meant to fall under her earlier cheeky vein but didn't hit the mark. "We'll find him." He assured her, taking the umbrella. "Of course we will," she sounded so certain that he looked at her in surprise. "He owes me twenty pounds from that last poker game we played together. There's no way I'm going to let him renege on a bet," she explained. Adam stared at her and then burst out laughing. "Oh Jade. I do love you." "Naturally." Rolling his eyes, he lifted the umbrella a bit higher. "Ready to do a bit of snooping around?" "Just try and stop me. I really wish this rain would stop," she complained. The sky fell silent, rain ceasing just as her complaint left her mouth. She gaped then recovered, "Am I good or what?" ***** "Ami Jackson, where do you think you're going?" An irate Sherri Jackson demanded. "Out," Ami said shortly, her patience frayed by the worry. Thus far, there had been no word from the others and the empty- headed babblings of her younger cousins had nearly sent her up a wall. She had to get out of here; the others needed her. "Oh no you don't, my girl. I'm not about to have you go gallivanting off on one of your adventures. What would I tell your cousin?" "Whatever you like. Mum, I can't just sit here and do nothing." "And you call being with your family doing nothing," Sherri crossed her arms, eyes dangerously glittering. But for once Ami wasn't going to back down. "Yes, in this case I do. Megabyte's in trouble. He could be hurt or ... Mum, I love you dearly but I can't just sit around, pretending to have a smashing time all the while my friend's life could be in danger. " "Ami Michelle Jackson, don't you--" "I'm sorry, Mum but I'm not a little kid anymore. Like it or not, I am going though I'd rather do it with your blessing." Sherri Jackson stared at her. Ami felt guilty at the tears she suddenly saw in her mother's eyes. She hadn't meant to hurt her yet it seemed that was the only way to make her see. Lately, it seemed that she and her mother had been clashing more and more frequently. And each time Sherri tried to tighten the loosening maternal grip she had on Ami. "My little girl. Sometimes I forget, you're not so little anymore," Mrs. Jackson embraced her, "Go on then, but please be careful." "I will, Mum." Ami hugged her. ****** The Glenfinnan Inn was a rustic, solid-beamed place to which the word quaint seemed to be made for. It lay near the rocky shores of Loch Shiel. The rain had swollen the blue waters of the lake, making them choppy. They splashed against the shoreline, disturbing the nesting places of several local birds who were squawking indignantly over the whole affair. A breeze rustled the tall marsh grasses, the tall stalks moving in perfect concert. Normally Adam would have been taken by such a scene. It was so tranquil, so soothing... Or would have been had it not been for the police car sitting in the parking lot or the bits of yellow tape flashing from around back of the building. Just the sight of them confirmed one thing: trouble. Something that Megabyte had no doubt already stumbled across. "This is where they were staying? Nice," Jade eyed the edifice in appreciation, "You know, if Megabyte had the General's good taste, his sense of humor might be excusable." "I don't know that I'd go that far," Adam quirked. It hadn't been hard to find the Inn again though they had purposefully teleported far away from it to avoid being seen. A good idea that had been too, judging from the looks of things. "So do we go inside or snoop around back?" Jade asked. "Don't you think it's going to look a bit odd having two strangers show up, sans any luggage and asking a lot of questions about two missing people?" He asked practically. "You may have a point." "Thank you." "The back it is then." They skirted around the cars, stringently avoiding the police car. It was easier than he'd supposed. One of the constables was engaged in a rather lively conversation with a flame-haired woman about half his size. Bits of the conversation floated on the wind. "...I thought I told ye people this mornin' that I had nothin' more ta tell ye," the woman said. "Ye did, ma'am, but the inspector, he feels that maybe ye might 'ave somethin' ta tell us, somethin' that ye might 'ave remembered." "Ye mean ye want me ta tell ya that I thought those tourists murdered that man. Is that it?" What man, Adam paused. "No, ma'am. I--" "Well, let me tell ye somethin'--" the woman began hotly. Adam didn't catch what she meant to say because something else had grabbed his attention. Ami. She had suddenly popped into existence, near the fence. Jade scurried over to her as soon as she saw her. Taking his time, Adam strained to catch more of the conversation. He caught a snatch of it before he moved out of range. "--if ye think I like findin' a decapitated body in the backyard then yer verra much mistaken." Decapitated body... Oh no. Adam began to think that Megabyte was in a lot more trouble than he'd initially suspected. ***end of Chapter Five _____________________ "I think that people who can't believe in faeries aren't worth knowing. I just think that alternate realities make you a good writer. If your work is any more than one dimension, you believe in faeries." --Tori Amos, Spin Magazine, March 1996 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Adams Subject: TPFICT: labcat part 1 Date: 20 Mar 1998 20:06:12 Lab Cat An Original Series Story By Dianne Elliott DISCLAIMER: In the following fan fiction, I used the Tomorrow People, who belong to Roger Price and Thames River Television. I am not making a dime off of this tale, so please don't sue! If you wish to archive Lab Cat, please do so, with this disclaimer. Granted, John, TIM, Kenny, Carol, Ginge and Lefty are copyrighted characters belonging to Roger Price, the animal characters of Harley and Lady are based on several dogs and cats I have had the privilege of knowing throughout the years. For the proper time frame of this story, it takes place across the first season, from just after Stephen's joining of the TP to about the time period before they left to go to the Trig for the first time. "LEFTY," his fellow Hell's Angel loudly yelled over the roguish roars of their rebuilt Harley motorcycles. "DO YA 'EAR THAT?!?" Lefty shook his head no, his soft boyish face blank. His freckled friend growled, removing his battered helmet, freeing a tangle of long red hair to the chilling gusts off of the Thames River. "You're deaf!" he hissed, gunning the powerful engine, while cocking a trained ear. There was a definite squall, loud at first, before thinning off, as the engine revved to speed. "It's gotta be the ruddy fuel intake," he churlishly muttered, as his motorcycle sputtered. "No, it's a kitten," Lefty insisted, swinging off of his bike, and striding over to the rubbish pile. "Wha??" his friend swung a fierce jaw set gaze to Lefty's blue jean posterior, as he continued to dig through the soggy newspapers and rotting vegetables. "A kitten, Ginge!" Lefty grinned, as he produced a tiny lump of black fur, from beneath a soaked cardboard box. Upon closer inspection, Ginge saw it actually was a shivering black moggy, sporting white mittens and bib, his round face halved by a white blaze. "Poor l'tle nipper," Lefty tuttled, smoothing the wet fur between the huge yellow eyes. The kitten shyly mewed, meeting his index finger, purring loudly, but with a clatter. "Harley," the young man smiled, cuddling the shivering bundle closer to his T-shirted chest. Ginge snorted, glancing away. Lefty loved animals, but it was against their lease to keep a cat at their flat. Taking it to his parent's home was also, way out of the question. He puffed out his ruddy cheeks, narrowing his hazel eyes at the grey skyline. "It'll be pourin' soon," he grumbled, tossing a concerned glance behind. Lefty had already fallen in love with the soaked buzz ball, and from the sound of the rumble, the moggy felt the same. The thought of putting it back in its box, and leaving it to the elements, pained Ginge. "Harley's hungry," Lefty whined, his pasty expression, nearly as miserable as the kitten's. Ginge clutched his greasy hand to his jaw, attempting to dash his building sympathy for that rechid cat. Just as the order came to his mind, a wonderful inspiration occurred to him. "Come on," he signaled, mounting back on his bike. "I know where yer l'tle moggy can get some cream, and if he's lucky a roof over his head." "Eh?" Lefty's soft brown eyes flashed in confusion. "The Tomorrow People, you doit!" Ginge roared in triumph, lightly back handing Lefty's rounded shoulder. "You remember them, don't ya?" "You mean Stephen an' them?" Lefty shifted uneasily. "The kids with the special powers? Ginge, I dunno, after kidnappin' Stephen for Jedikiah, an' all." "That's old news," Ginge shrugged. "As I see it, people like them an' moggies should get along like chips 'n', vinegar! Let's hit the road before we all get drenched! ************************************************************************ Tossing aside her poetry book, Carol decided it was just as boring in the Lab, as it was back home in her bedroom. Her fellow Tomorrow People friends, Stephen and Kenny were trying out one of John's newly developed scanners, although she assumed it was more of an excuse to muck about in Earth orbit. "Even John must be having more fun," she sighed, heavily leaning on the Link Table, her graceful fingers absently tracing out designs on the warm, lighted surface. "John is doing important research," a rich parental voice from above spoke, as swirling patterns of green, blue and purple light swarmed about the towering cement and instrument paneled walls. "May I suggest that you vary your activity, Carol, to relieve yourself of the boredom. Perhaps a game of set back?" As he finished, a plastic hemisphere materialized before her, the brightly glowing game pieces already set on the gleaming surface. "Ohhh," Carol frowned at the board, blowing up her sagging blond bangs. "I'm not just up to it, right now." Lifting her eyes to the array of four hemispheres and their attendant flex tubing high over her head, she glumly added, "Sorry TIM." A tinny six beat knock sounded on the metal door across the Lab. "It's Ginge!" Carol immediately brightened, recognizing his knock, as TIM unlocked and rolled the heavy door to one side. Ginger Harding, grinning, strode through, with his companion Lefty timidly following. "H'lo Carol," the flame haired biker warmly greeted, roving about the former tube station. "TIM, where's everybody else?" "Out," Carol moodily answered, then swung her questioning sapphire eyes to Lefty. Something under his black leather jacket was moving, creeping up his amble stomach. His hands followed the bundle, supporting it. Suddenly a small kitten's head popped out of the opening, resting his white jaw on the heavy zipper. "MEEE---RRROWW!" it was hard to believe that such a loud cry could come from such a tiny life form. "He's adorable!" Carol cooed in enchantment, as she tendering scooped out the bundle. "The poor little thing! He must be hungry!" "We found the moggy in the rubbish tip, behind ---" Ginge paused, feeling Lefty's sour look. "His name's Harley," Lefty shyly amended. Carol gently placed the damp kitten in the middle of the Link Table. The heated surface was pleasing to his cold paws, but the kitten squawked, blinking at the hard light flooding over him. Looking straight up, apparently fascinated by the swirling patterns, Harley poised, "MERUUL?" TIM chuckled, closing the probe, dimming the table's light to normal brightness. "Harley is approximately five weeks old, and is rather starved." A piping whistle announced a sudden appearance by a bowl of cream at his side. "The kitten is quite healthy, considering his condition, yet he is going to need some intensive care now for him to grow into a healthy cat." Harley sat beside the tempting bowl, staring at it wonderingly. "Go on," Ginge threw up his huge hands, stepping up to the Link Table. The kitten blinked at him, as he reached for his scruff. Just as Harley's reluctant nose was forced down, Carol angrily spat, "Ginge!" The biker jumped and blinked, as she continued. "Poor Harley doesn't know what a bowl is for!" Scooping up the kitten and protectively cuddling him, she continued, "You could have --- hurt him!" "Jeez, I was only tryin' to help!" Lefty softly snickered. Carol smiled, even as Ginge threatened to back hand his friend. "A blunt eyedropper, please TIM." "Of course, Carol." As Harley and his friends watched, Carol drew up half a dropper full of cream and dribbled it a drop at a time on his mouth and whiskers. Licking at it, Harley discovered that the thick warm liquid was delicious. Immediately, he plugged his mouth onto the tapered end to suckle, but the girl gently pulled it out. "You're old enough to learn," she mothered, as Harley watched her dropper hand move back to the bowl. There were more drops, but lapping them up off his fur and her fingers was inconvenient. Not only was he famished, this game was not cat like. Much to Carol's surprise, Harley hopped out of her tender clutch, onto the Link Table, then sauntered over to the bowl of cream. At first, he tried to plug into the cream, but the tricky stuff went up his nose, causing a fussy snort. Harley decided he still had to lap it up, but instead of a few tempting drops, he could have as much as he wanted. His contented purring, soon rang off of the walls. ************************************************************************ Within the hour, the furry newcomer was greeted by the mysterious psionic group. "Carol?" John snorted, spying the tiny black and white bundle, dozing in her lap. "A cat??" "John, Harley's just a little kitten!" she defended, shrugging her blond paige boy hair over her shoulders. "And he needs us!" "Carol ---" Stephen ambled over to the pair, tugging the stubborn fall of his sandy brown hair out of his blue eyes. "Harley you say?" unlike the older John, he warmly smiled at her and the kitten. Without breaking his purr, Harley sleepily lifted his head. Stephen rubbed him beneath the jaw, a sweet spot, for the rumbling increased in pitch and speed. "And appropriate name," he warmly chuckled. "Straight pipes and not muffled, just like Ginge's motorcycle." "Carol," John pouted, his elegant hands pressing just above his narrow hips. "We can't keep a cat!" Kenny, the youngest of the four, chuckled at his leader's dower expression, pressing in for a closer look. "The moggy's cute, and he won't eat much, John." "That's not the point," John fumed, his chocolate gaze edging along his temper. "Look, we just can't keep a pet in the Lab!" "Why not John?" Carol directly challenged. He huffed, folding his arms across his chest, staring down four pairs of eyes, one of them feline. "First off, there would be cat hair and dander everywhere! Now, TIM happens to be rather delicate---" "If you are concerned about my internal structures being damaged or clotted by excess cat hair, John," TIM put in. "Please do not worry. My dust filters are able to prevent that from occurring." John shot the hemispheres a brief glare, a little disappointed that TIM did not back up his first point against the cat. "All right," he sat on the edge of the neighboring chair, and leaned in slightly toward Carol. "Granted, as to visitors coming to the Lab, TIM could inform them before their appearances, that we are keeping a domesticated animal, but what is going to happen to little Harley, when we have to leave the planet? We jolly well can't take him with us!" The purring stopped, as Carol winced. "My mum and dad could --- maybe for a little while." She realized that John was right, they could leave the Earth, possibly for weeks at a time. To take a pet to the Galactic Trig was prohibitively expensive. To take one to another world was outright forbidden. Her mind desperately stumbled over potential cat sitters. Her parents would not mind watching over Harley for a couple of days, until her father's allergies started up. Stephen's folks might take in a kitten, but they also had a purebred Persian, that his mother was so fussy over. Kenny and his mother lived in a flat in South London that disallowed pets. At home, John had an aging cocker spaniel, who could be such a grouch, like him. "In that event," TIM's soft parental voice intervened. "I can tend to Harley's needs." John shot the biotronic computer a surprised glare. "TIM, taking care of a cat is quite a responsibility." "So is 'taking care' of Tomorrow People, John. I feel that I have adequately performed such tasks in the past." With John's long drawn out sigh of resignation, the argument was over. The Tomorrow People had a mascot. ************************************************************************ As hours passed into days, days into weeks and then months, Harley prospered under the Tomorrow People's lavish attentions. In a way, he became Carol's 'baby', lovingly tending to his needs, including protecting him from Ginge's rough teasing. She played with the kitten often, dangling strings before his growing paws. Stephen, on the other hand, was the one to turn to for quiet attention. He would silently sit, knowing all of the special places to tickle and pet. Kenny was not as patient as Stephen, but he always brought in interesting things to sample such as greasy fish and fresh catnip. John was a puzzle. His contributions consisted of various collars, which Harley did not care for, and squirmed out of, and an odd litter pan, in which whatever he buried within vanished the moment he turned away. Even though John spent most of his time alone in the Lab, he rarely played with the growing cat. So Harley spent many pleasant hours scrambling about, chasing and pouncing upon the colorful lazy patterns of light, as they wound about the walls. Slowly, Harley began to appreciate the eldest Tomorrow Person. Most often John would sit at the Link Table, sometimes talking with TIM, as he manipulated shiny bits and tools. Once, Harley quietly leapt on the table, and not immediately scooted off by one of John's grumbling scoldings. The cat studied John, as he pointing a hot smoldering tip about a board crowded with all sorts of interesting bits. Fascinated by the his actions, Harley flashed out a paw, swatting down a freshly connected capacitor. "MEE-WOW!!" the cat frizzed, flying off. "Harley?" John worriedly called. A pair of glowing orbs from under the cot mutely answered. "Now, you -know- not to play with my tools," he grimly nodded. "Harley is not injured, only surprised," TIM reported. "I sometimes wonder what is with that cat," John mumbled, returning to his repair work on the jaunting belt. "Perhaps Harley is fascinated with your electronic supplies, as if they are your prey," the biotronic computer theorized. "TIM," John swallowed a snicker. "Harley may consider your tools, as acceptable prey," TIM continued. "Considering how Carol reacted when the cat presented her with a freshly killed mouse." "Ginge didn't help matters any by squeaking 'Fix me, Fix me!" John guiltily winced. "Carol has got to accept that cats are predators, not people, especially not Tomorrow People." Harley had finished grooming the stinging paw, and had settled on his haunches beside John. Suddenly, the cat snapped his head toward the jaunting pad. Now the comings and goings of his family fascinated the young cat the most. If he was chasing lights, or napping on the cot, Harley would start, then fly to the center spot on the floor, right before the jaunting pad, curling his tail primly about him, just as one of the Tomorrow People jaunted in. Immediately, he took up his post, watching as Stephen materialized. "Hello," the fourteen year old breezed by, dropping his school books onto the Table, before scooping up his feline friend. "Caught any more mice?" "Please Stephen, let's not rehash that," John sighed. Then a sudden muse traced across John's mind. "Had you noticed, how Harley is usually sitting right there, just before one of us jaunts in?" "Maybe he wants to learn how to jaunt, so he can hunt," Stephen smirked. John softly groaned, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. "I was wondering if Harley had an extra sense or a stronger sense of hearing." "Harley's hearing ranges are within normal ranges for cats his age," TIM reported. "With the strong connection between the occult and felines, the Saps have long conjectured that cats are psionic, but I have not detected any sign of telepathy. Then again a cat's brain is different from a human's ---" "Some other time, TIM," John's thoughts settled back to the jaunting belt, while Harley renewed his observations on John. *********************************************************************** Over time, the young telepathic scientist proved more exciting, despite his aloof feline demeanor. It was more than mere shiny tools and electronic pieces, that attracted the cat. John also read books, which caused his mind to flash across ideas and musings. Unknown to both Tomorrow Person and the attentive biotronic computer, Harley slowly became sensitive to those dancing patterns. At first, the cat merely skidded around in his inner thoughts, playfully chasing and pouncing the flow. The young tuxedoed cat learned, that the closer he was to John when he thought or created, the stronger the glittering patterns became. Before long, on an unconscious level, Harley's thoughts began to parallel John's, but the 'communication' was only one way from John to Harley. Harley was not concerned, as he discovered how to gently climb upon John's shoulders, and curl around his neck, without disturbing either one's concentration. From his perch, with wide staring eyes and not purring, Harley tasted far more interesting things than kippers and catnip, such as alien sciences, higher mathematics and biotronic engineering. Within the mental stream, Harley felt TIM was close, however, TIM's thoughts were too crowded, too busy to causally peer into. Through John's eyes, his scribbles and bits made sense. Without their knowledge, Harley absorbed the information, from John's whirling mind. One quiet day, that were notebook pages spread thick across the Link Table. John stared at them, computations brightly dancing in his mind. With an interested mew, Harley climbed onto his hunched shoulders. Upon settling, the cat mentally joined John's hunt. This problem was plaguing John alone, although even he did not understand why. Frowning, he sighed, and started to scribble into the complicated jaunting formulae. Part instinct and part learned and trained, teleporting, or jaunting, could be the most dangerous of the Tomorrow People's talents. The mental action required energy and direction, which TIM provided, through the jaunting belts, however, over short distances a Tomorrow Person could jaunt on his or her own. It took John months of inner thought, observation and study under TIM to discover the simplest mathematical proofs of the action, having to translate jaunting through esoteric geometries only he understood. Harley's irises contracted, as he watched. He sense that John's solution was wrong, but how to communicate that to the Tomorrow Person? Gingerly, the cat reached out, and snagged the pen in his claws. "No, no," John tersely whispered, pulling his stylus from Harley's grasp, then lightly tapped the cat between his ears, all without breaking his concentration. "This isn't time to play. Maybe you should---" Before John could remove the cat, Harley launched himself from his shoulders, causing a sour glower. Harley was no longer a tiny bundle, but a fifteen pound feline. There were nicks in is cable-knit sweater, and likely in his skin. The cat was seated before the jaunting pad, his tail neatly tucked about his white boots. John shook his head no, recognizing the old habit. "TIM, who is it please?" "I have just received the signals," TIM replied. "Stephen and Kenny are jaunting in from their soccer game." "How does that cat know?" John mused aloud, gathering his spilled papers. ************************************************************************ Harley simply knew, for he could feel that special twitch in his whiskers, when ever one of his people was jaunting in, just before reality 'winked'. Each Tomorrow Person, including the stranger Steen had a unique displacement, which he knew as well as their scents. During his kittenhood, Harley was fascinated by the rainbow sprays that opened just before and closed just after their jaunts. Now, Harley realized that the twinkling lights were a serious waste of energy. His people, however, did not notice the drain. In fact, John approached the flickering more as an annoyance, to be rid of. Kenny and Stephen appeared in a beautiful spray. Trilling, Harley leapt onto the pad. "H'lo Harley," Stephen greeted, shifting his weight off his twisted ankle, as the cat wound around Kenny's muddied jeans. Harley panted out a disturbing smell, as he bolted back into the shadows. "Did you have a soccer match or a rugby scruff?" John quizzed. "You two are a mess!" "You should've come out John!!" Kenny grinned, as he helped Stephen hobble. "My team won!" "Yeah, Kenny finally used his head," Stephen grumbled. "But I would've checked him, if I hadn't landed on my ankle." "Hummm," their friend frowned, as he hooked a supportive arm about Stephen's shoulders. "That's a nasty sprain Stephen. Better have me take a look." Harley leaped on the cot ahead of the young men. "I bet," Stephen snorted, chucking the cat under the chin, "That you wonder why we humans do such silly things." "Oooooough," Kenny swooned and suddenly collapsed. "Kenny!" John yelped out of surprise, as his healing aura promptly vanished around Stephen's injury. A dull, red swelling on the boy's temple caught the leader's worried gaze. Gently, John tipped his head to the right. Intermingled with the tightly knicked hair, he discovered a suspicious row of tiny pricks. "Damn, what caused this?" John tensely whispered. "TIM, could you please run a probe? Stephen, help me." With a grim nod, the teenager extended his palms. His aura flickered dully about his spidery fingers, before it died away. "TIM, get Carol," John ordered, maintaining his healing fields. "We need her!" Harley suddenly shrieked like a missile. Fur brisling, he flew at the jaunting pad. When it was certain that the screaming cat would smash into the alcove's wall, Harley vanished, without lights or colors. "Never mind the cat," John growled to the wide eyed Stephen. ************************************************************************ As Harley's body pierced the in-between, it became fluid, matching his angry mood. His haunches flowed like the powerful jaguar's, his spine compacted and stretched like a sprinting cheetah's. His eyes rapidly adjusted to the purple neitherworld, as his forelegs thickened to a tiger's proportions. The enraged feline flashed past the unwary Carol, catching the 'invisible' rolling thing by its spindly throat, just as it struck out at her calf. The thing shrieked, wildly coiling about Harley's body. Yowling, Harley extended his paws into deadly stars, flaying them with a desert lynx's murderous skills. The air grew a smoggy taint, as the combatants tumbled. Consciousness was painfully wrung from his body, yet Harley dared not release the head. The pair continued to spin, falling into the pull of gravity. The end came with a crunching slam. ************************************************************************ The mingling scents of asphalt and car exhaust touched his buzzing senses. Opening his eyes, Harley found himself crumpled on a city sidewalk. The monster's coppery coils, still tightly twitched about his bruised ribs. The jewel encrusted, three eyed head tasted particularly foul. With a disgusted snort, the cat spat out the dying serpent. When the lifeless head bounced on the cement, the rest of the crushing coils followed. Harley was too busy grooming the clinging slime from his coat, to notice his enemy fading under the sunlight. His whiskers still tingled from the fight, while its potentially deadly consequences spun in his mind. That particular thing attacked Kenny, and stalked Carol. Harley could feel many more clustering around in-between hunting his humans. Their pretty jaunts were attracting them. A two wheeled machine with a deafening purr sputtered to a stop beside him. "Harley!" Ginge scolded. "What are you doin' out?" "MERROW," Harley replied severely. Ginge smirked, "Tom-cattin', I see." His gloved hand laced under his stomach, and Harley found himself lifted in a most undignified and uncomfortable manner. "Good Lord, you stink like a ruddy polecat!!" As Ginge smoothed some of the ruffled fur, his fingerless leather gloves collected some clear goo, which he promptly smeared on his dirty jeans. "Must've been quite a fight!" Harley agreed, as he narrowed his eyes, purring loudly and contentively. "I better get you back to the --- where you belong." ************************************************************************ Harley had to do something against the gathering things. First, he struck out to firm up and enlarge his territory. Which meant roving, leaving both claw and scent postings where ever his people jaunted to and from. Scratching and spraying in the jaunting alcove, only got the cat in deep trouble with John and TIM, which got him banished to the blocked off tubes for over a day. Harley knew that the jaunting alcove was the most important port. So, he attempted to extend his territory into the in-between, but his claws had no surface to catch, and his scent simply dispersed in the swirling energy fields. Wounding himself tightly about their legs before they jaunted just as little good. Apparently, the alien hunters blatantly ignored his hard planted mark. Kenny, Stephen, Carol and John all exited from hyperspace feeling drained and headachy, still unaware of what was happening to them. Unless, Harley traveled with them. He 'followed' Kenny, Stephen and Carol to and from their respective schools, homes and haunts. That caused some annoyance between him and his people, particularly the morning Harley decided to explore Kenny's school instead of returning 'home' Over time, it became something of a game 'of shake the cat'. Even without a jaunting collar, which John made and Harley found a way to loose, that cat's jaunting prowless became legendary. On a lazy Sunday lark, the Tomorrow People jaunted over to the ruins in Athens, leaving Harley behind, or so they believed. When they materialized among the ancient ruins, Harley was waiting for them. "How does that cat do it??" John hissed, unpacking his notebook. "Without an energy/navigational boost from TIM??" "And ahead of us, no less," Kenny shook his head no. "Oh John, its such a lovely day," Carol pouted to his back as he strolled a gravelly path to a grove of olive trees. "Why don't you leave those silly calculations alone for once!" As Harley wound around his bare legs, John paused, and shook his head no. "You three have fun, I've got some work to do..." ************************************************************************ "TIM, any more incidents involving Harley?" John pleasantly asked, stepping off of the jaunting pad. He paused at the waiting cat just long enough to note that the special jaunting collar was missing. "Harley jaunted out with his collar at nine-thirty last evening," the hemispheres pulsed with the tempo of his voice. "He first went to Carol's house, stayed approximately and hour, then jaunted to Kenny's apartment." "About midnight, Harley came to my house," John interrupted. "Drove Lady and the rest of us crazy." "When Harley departed from your home," TIM patiently continued. "Was when he lost the collar. I could not track him until he returned to the Lab at four twenty this morning." "RRROW??" the cat blinked, then shook his foremitten, and licked it. John rolled his eyes, ambling to the Link Table. "Just a cup of coffee this morning, please," he asked, laying open his thick notebook. "I'll have to build another one." "Boy, are you in trouble," Stephen suddenly huffed, as Harley daintily climbed across his friend's shoulders. "If mother ever catches you near Mittens again, she's going to fix you but good! Likely with the kitchen knife!" "Sounds like Harley paid you a midnight visit," John commented without looking up. "Two o'clock," Stephen heavily plopped into the nearest chair, rubbing the back of his throbbing neck. "We had the biggest cat fight I ever heard in the middle of the kitchen! We may see the end results in a couple of months. By the way John, would you like a kitten?" "Thank you, but no," John said, already deep into his formulae. "I already have more than my quota." Stephen sighed, watching his friend pouring over pages of figures. All of that hard work to calculate a way around those silly lights when one jaunted. Silly until everybody started experiencing headaches whenever they jaunted. As to what caused Kenny to collapse over a month ago, was explained away as a mild knock on the head, which was worsened by the jaunt in. "Some toast and orange juice please TIM. A couple of aspirin. Rechid headache." "Hummm," John noted. Harley jaunted without the disruption naturally, and that was the impetuous to his project. 'Odd,' Stephen observed to himself. 'Harley seems pretty keen on what John's work.' Harley extended a forepaw. 'Then again the cat's more interested in his pen!' "Good morning," Carol cheerfully announced, lightly stepping off of the pad. "Hi Harley," her index finger wound about his plush ruff. "He did something very sweet for me last night. Harley stayed with me until I fell asleep!" "He woke us up," John muttered, turning a page. "Would you like a little Harley?" Stephen cracked a grin, as his headache began to fade. "Eh?" "Stephen thinks that Harley might have mated with his mother's cat, Mittens," TIM explained. "I know he did." Carol giggled, then turned serious. "Since Harley can jaunt, maybe we should --- you know --- have him neutered. Then he wouldn't roam so much." Harley snapped up his head, fixing his astonished gaze on her. John absently scratched him between the attentive ears. "Please, let us work through this before you do anything so drastic." Carol and Stephen exchanged confused stares. "Us?" Stephen echoed softly, as Carol shook her head no. [Poor John], she telepathed narrowly to Stephen. [He's working too hard!] - end of part 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: bookwyrm@sprynet.com Subject: TPFICT: archive update Date: 21 Mar 1998 16:17:55 -0800 (PST) The TPFICT archive has been updated with: "The Beta Wave" by Thomas Veil - completed copy Part 1 of "Lab Cat" by Dianne Elliott Part 2 of "Midseason's Dream" by Beth Epstein Part 3 of "People Aren't What They Seem" by Twilight "Perceptions" by Michele Mason - completed copy Parts 0-5 of "Reunions" by Caroline Fales Part 11 of "Round Robin #3" by Shaun Hately Part 4 of "Triptochon" by Jennifer Welk On separate notes: the TPFICT Archive Page recently registered visitor number 10,000. If it was one of you listies, would you please email me. This is just for my own amusement. *and* Congratulations go to Michele Mason, the ever prolific fan-writer. She was married today. Her new name is Michele Bumbarger. ... Wendy bookwyrm@sprynet.com * http://www.xmission.com/~ladyslvr/ Listowner Tomorrow People Creative and Discussion Lists Asst. Listowner Sliders Creative & Discussion Lists at esosoft ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Adams Subject: TPFICT: lab cat pt2 Date: 22 Mar 1998 12:54:50 Lab Cat Part II An Original Series Story By Dianne Elliott DISCLAIMER: In the following fan fiction, I used the Tomorrow People, who belong to Roger Price and Thames River Television. I am not making a dime off of this tale, so please don't sue! If you wish to archive Lab Cat, please do so, with this disclaimer. Granted, John, TIM, Kenny, Carol, Ginge and Lefty are copyrighted characters belonging to Roger Price, the animal characters of Harley and Lady are based on several dogs and cats I have had the privilege of knowing throughout the years. For the proper time frame of this story, it takes place across the first season, from just after Stephen's joining of the TP to about the time period before they left to go to the Trig for the first time. After several progressless hours, John tossed down his stylus, groaning as he pressed his banging head against the heel of his raised hand. [How do you do it?] his demanding stare swung onto the dozing feline head on his right shoulder. Harley's eyes cracked open, meeting his. Of course there was not a hint of a telepathic touch between them. [Well?] As if giving an answer, Harley eased off his shoulder, landing clumsily on the Link Table, purposefully scattering John's neatly piled notes. "Harley!" he crowed, rushing to shove the priming cat off, as even more papers cascaded to the floor. Harley scampered off, flying up the staircase. John seethed, snatching up his notes. "Why don't you take a rest?" TIM diplomatically suggested. "You have been working steadily for over twelve hours." [I know], he shoved his mixed up papers into untidy piles on the table. [All over those silly lights.] His forehead furrowed beneath the fall of thick dark hair, his mind wheeling over uncomfortable thoughts. [Maybe it's me. Maybe ---] "We have gone over this John," TIM gently interrupted. [Granted the Tomorrow People and you in particular have been suffering from mild headaches which have been aggravated by jaunting, however, their initial causes can be traced to disturbances in sleep and stress. Your headaches are caused by eyestrain and overwork.] [Still ---] John massaged his temples. "Merrr," Harley poised from the top stair, the white tip of his tail swaying gently. "You're no real help," John grumbled, rubbing his cramping neck. Harley stretched and laid down, watching his human. The cat's sensitive whiskers spread, as his pupils enlarged, intense orbs. Something was attempting to come through the jaunting alcove. Harley could smell it, feel its zapping coldness, as the monster tried to rip its way into this reality. Harley bristled, as tentacles erupted from the walls and floor of the jaunting alcove. John nor TIM could perceive the intruder. "I'm going home," John sourly put in, stuffing the last of his jumbled notes into a calculus textbook. "Maybe with a good night's sleep---" *MMERRULL!* with a warrior's cry, Harley launched himself from the top stair. He purposely ran between John's feet, winding his lithe body back. Nudging and prancing about, Harley twined his legs, making it impossible for John to make a step. "HARLEY!" John loudly snapped, rudely toeing the upset cat aside. "I want to go home!!" "Meow!" Harley brightly twirled, bracing his forepaws on John's trousers, begging for attention like a kitten, with stronger claws poking through for emphasis. "Meow!!" John shook his head no, eyeing the ceiling. "Very well," his fingers went for the heavy belt latches. "I can jaunt from here." Harley jumped up, narrowly avoiding a lashing tentacle. It snaked around John's ankle, as he faded. "MERRA!!!" The cat vanished. ************************************************************************ Down in the kitchen, the elderly cocker spaniel Lady woke whimpering from a deep sleep. Quite puzzled, her long floppy ears pulled forward, as she tasted the still air for any sign of her young master. Granted, her senses were not as sharp as they were in puppyhood, but she was certain John was in the kitchen. The light was still out, and no gentle hand reached down and patted her head. Pulling herself onto her stiff legs, Lady plodded about the ground floor. John's scent was hours old, and faint. A whimper worked up her dried throat. She was certain that John was there, and suddenly left. That was horribly wrong. ************************************************************************ Harley found himself in free fall through lavender mist. He did not care for this continuos leap, his paws not touching the ground until he left in-between. Paddling offered control, but at the loss of speed. Stretching farther, Harley reflected on how he did not care for swimming. Self preservation boiled that he leave hyperspace, but he refused. Retreating below, was John enveloped by that alien thing. Its plasmosoid body was so thick, that Harley could no longer see his engulfed human. John's life force was winding away. Harley spat, arching his spine, as he touched their common hunter's thread, already judging the monster. The alien intended to trap the Tomorrow People one by one, drain them to death, without their knowledge, starting with the only one of them who presented a threat. John, with his advanced mathematics, whirling intelligence and an extra sense as he dismissed as so many headaches. He was dying, before he ever really learned how to fully master his powers. His opened mouth clotted with foul ooze, unable to scream, barely able to draw a breath, John choked in agony. The ameoboid creature harshly rippled against his body, both drowning and crushing the Tomorrow Person. Harley realized that there was only one way to save this important friend's life. He expanded his mind and body to beyond the edges of human experience, but not that of the felines. Armed with massive, thumbed paws and stabbing canines, he pounced, tearing into the soft flesh. Although yielding, the damaged tissue did not bleed. Instead the gummy surface quickly seeped back in place and repaired itself. Throughout the attack, deep within, the monster continued to drain John. Below the yellowed skin, smaller beasts slithered within, like so many bloated worms. Two thorny skinned worms attempted to mash his submerged paw, as more tiny red worms swarmed to it, creating a gelatinous sac, into which they injected a burning liquid. Angrily yowling, Harley lashed wildly at the offending things. He kept slashing, flaying anything that dared stray too close. Flying bits of monster began to adhere together, but the worms escaped into hyperspace. Finally his claws struck true, living flesh, causing his human to weakly yelp. Sputtering on plasma jell, John rolled from the developing stomach sac. Harley wrapped his huge furry hands about John's heaving chest, yanking his body from the quivering monster. Through the hunter's thread, the two creatures coldly regarded one another. The cat then discovered that the nearly mindless monster prowled the in-between seeking then killing the unwary for food, just as he had done to mice. Harley finally realized why Carol was so upset with his gift. A tentacle suddenly snapped out of the quivering bulk. Harley snarled, neatly whisking off the offending limb, short of John's heaving chest. The monster quivered, collecting its severed pieces into its ball, then fell out of sight. Confused, John forced his aching eyes open, hoping to see that Harley was all right. Harley's wide, wise yellow eyes peered through contented slits, but on a far different being. Instead of a black and white alley cat, John saw a saber toothed tiger, holding him with large articulate and clawed hands. "H-Harley?" he wheezed in disbelief. The long triangular ears flickered briefly back into a mane, then snapped attentively forward, as the claws sheathed themselves. The Smilodon man leaned over the nervous Tomorrow Person, as he tried to push himself away. Tenderly, as all of his humans had done to him, Harley had picked up John, by looping his paws across his human's stomach. The Tomorrow Person felt violently ill, but John was no longer in danger of drowning. ************************************************************************ When his gummy eyes unsealed themselves, John found himself laying on his side on the kitchen floor. Dear old Lady barked her welcome, as her uncertain legs scurried over the recently waxed tiles. "Easy girl," a violent retch raked through his suspiciously sore ribcage, as John tried to keep his excited pet at arm's length. Lady whined and wiggled, trying to sniff the strange goo. Just as the dog managed a fast taste from John's cheek, a white paw flashed out. A cat scratch erupted across the tender tip of her black nose. Yelping, Lady drew back, just as the kitchen light flipped on. "Has that bloody cat ---?" John's mother began to fume. "JOHN!!" ************************************************************************ After a through examination, the family doctor insisted that John stay at home, in bed, for at least a week. The physician concluded that the young man had a nasty case of stomach flu, on top of a bad upper respiratory infection. Although John's mother maintained that a stray black and white cat did it, the doctor did not understand how he got the 'lion' like slashes across his back or why his dark hair had suddenly turned white. John was more concerned about the mysterious loss of his powers, but only voiced that problem to his family. Naturally, his parents were quite upset, knowing something terrible had happened to him. As usual, John was reluctant to talk about what little he could remember of his 'nightmare', only muttering about a giant amoebae. His parents redoubled their efforts to make certain that their only son was made comfortable, which only grated against John's needs for his normal, but great amount of privacy. When his mother was not forcing chicken soup on him or his father bringing up unwanted magazines, John fussed with his mixed up papers, trying to find all of his jaunting calculations. Lady was allowed upstairs, to keep him company, which John welcomed. She eagerly gulped down his leftovers, then lay her head on his bed, to be patted. John avoided looking at her injured nose, for it was a too uncomfortable reminder of that night. The next morning, John awoke suddenly, feeling a solid, immobile object stationed in the middle of his bed. "Harley??" he croaked unbelievingly at the cat. In response, Harley bowed his head, then picked up his forepaw, and began to lick it. "Johnny?" his mother chimed out, causing Harley to fly under the bed, and John to wince. "Breakfast!" Lady trotted in at her heels. "Thank you mother," he quietly sighed. "If you need anything ---" she angled toward the door. "I'll ring the bell," John gathered up the morning paper. As Lady quietly watched, and waited for her morning handout, Harley climbed onto the bed from the other side. The dog growled. "No fighting you two," John reminded them. "Mum would be up here in a flash if she hears so much as one bark." Harley watched Lady wolf down two heaps of scrambled eggs and a strip of bacon, before he cautiously climbed over the reading John. Lady glared hard at the cat. Through an unspoken link, both animals decided that they were friends to John, and that they would honor his request for peace. With a brief touching of noses, Harley draped himself across John's shoulders, while Lady kept tight to his bedside. Harley softly padded into the flow of John's thoughts and waited. The colors had greyed, his thoughts no longer whirled in pretty formulae. For over a day, his depressing notions focused on his sickness and his unanswered fears about jaunting. With purring nudges, Harley farther drained that unpleasantness from the in-between, but John's doubts stubbornly held tight. John reconsidered his life and special powers. That concerned Harley, for his human was gravely tempted to give them up, for a quiet life of being a university student. Quiet was a feline desire, not at the cost of giving up a part of oneself. After the last meal of the day, which John deliberately and evenly divided the leftovers between the cat and dog, a piece of a proof weakly flickered across his thoughts. Harley allowed Lady most of his portion of roast beef and potatoes, as he raced for John's shoulders. With wide eyes, the cat watched him collect a pen and pad from his nightstand. John slowly committed his thoughts to page. Harley began to purr, nudging gently his ear and thick white hair. Teasing that first, correct part of the complex theorem from John's greyed mind, Harley assumed must be as difficult as urging wormling kittens to open their senses. The task also took most of the night. Still propped up in bed, John drifted off to sleep, with Harley curled about his neck. A deep throated rumble followed him through all of his dreams. ************************************************************************ [Good morning John,] TIM's mental touch gently awakened him. [How are you feeling this morning?] [Fine TIM,] John yawned as he telepathed, not realizing that his special powers had recovered. Then his dull eyes suddenly flashed in realization that his mind was once again fully functional. [TIM?] [Yes, John?] "Er---" he rubbed his stubbled chin in thought, concluding that he needed a shave. "TIM, has anything happened to any of the others?" [They are well, however, they are also quite concerned about you.] [I'll recover in a few more days, TIM. But I must know, have there been any problems with jaunting? Such as suddenly losing all physical strength after materialization? Even headaches? Please, TIM, this is very important.] [There have been no farther problems with jaunting, John,] the biotronic computer reaffirmed. [Stephen has taken charge during your absence. In view of your mis-jaunt, he has forbidden the others from jaunting, except in emergencies.] [Good,] John forced his racing heart to calm. [TIM, can you have them come to my house, by noon?] [Of course. You still wish that they do not jaunt?] [Yes,] John swung his long legs from out from under the covers. [Yes, please TIM.] ************************************************************************ After cleaning up, John tried to focus more on the jaunting calculations, however, he spent most of the morning wording and rewording what he wanted to say to his friends. Through the jaunting belt crystal, TIM ran a remote physical probe, and informed him that he was still weakened by his experiences, however, John was perfectly healthy. John still had his worries. At the appointed hour, Carol materialized at the foot of his bed. "Carol!" John snapped, glaring at the grinning girl over his pad. "You know that I didn't want you to jaunt!" "Oh John," she pouted, as she settled on the edge of his bed. "I had my belt on!" "That's not the issue," he fumed, as Harley slipped off of his shoulders and sauntered over to her. "I've come to the conclusion that there is something fundamentally wrong with how we jaunt!" "H'lo Harley," she sweetly greeted the cat, as she pulled him onto her lap. "We were wondering where you had gotten off to. You've hadn't been back to the Lab since John had his accident!" "Carol ---" John paused. Reflecting, Harley had been with him constantly since the second morning. Outside of the odd bit of leftover beef or bacon, the cat had not eaten at all. Harley was rolling and purring, enjoying Carol's lavish attentions, so John concluded that the cat was okay. "John ---" his mother tapped on the thin door, before leaning in. "Are you up to seeing your ---?" Her eyes alighted disapprovingly on Carol. "I guess you are." "John!" Stephen smiled, as he stepped in. "How are you?" Kenny's dark eyes flashed mischievously. "Old man?" "Very funny," John drolly commented, with a toss of his noble head. "Actually John," Carol's cheeks rosed. "I find your white hair quite --- sexy." "Right," he fidgeted, scooping his copious bangs out of his eyes. "I didn't call us together to show off my hair color. I called us together to discuss what caused it." "Your mis-jaunt," Stephen gravely nodded, pocketing his slender hands. "Kenny and I've been teleporting a few inanimate objects, and measuring for any changes in weight and composition." "And?" "There aren't any, John," the teenager frowned. "Even on a molecular level." "Something happened to you, but what, we are all stomped John," Kenny put in. "I see," their leader muttered, scanning their anxious expressions. "Breaching the transdimentional hyperspacial matrix must be the key." "What?" Carol winced. [It causes those 'funny lights', when we jaunt,] Kenny telepathically explained to her. "Now, I've done some calculations that show those 'funny lights' are actually a waste of our personal energies," John announced. "Normally, we don't notice this loss, unless we're weakened in some manner. In those incidents, the loss to those lights can become dangerous." "Like, when we're injured," Kenny sourly put in, remembering how his game saving head butt resulted in a major concussion. "Or when we're overly tired," Carol brightly added. "John, you work far too much at times." He straightened his shoulders, mildly insulted at her sympathy. Granted, Carol was correct, but John was not willing to admit that to himself. "Okay," he sighed, "but there is something more to those bloody lights --- a danger that we still are not aware of." Harley cupped his ears attentively at his human. "Forget the element of surprise," Stephen mumbled. John snapped his gaze onto him. "What do you mean?" "Well," he began slowly. "Let's say that the Saps get used to the fact we can jaunt. They would know about those lights appearing before we appear, and then fading afterwards. I know it's less than a second, but what if the Saps are fast enough to train a rapid fire weapon on our ---" "Stephen," Carol interrupted as she cringed. "Please stop it, you're scaring me!" "That may become painfully true," John defended, sinking into his mound of pillows. What Stephen suggested jarred his blocked thoughts. Suddenly he was anxious to get back to work on the calculations. The breech would attract undue attention. "Maybe I was overly tired and anxious to get home that night," he sternly began. "Harley here even tried to stop me by getting underfoot." "Maybe he sensed that something was wrong," Carol put in. "Animals can sense things beyond human comprehending." "Carol, Harley's just a moggy," Kenny ruefully rolled his eyes. "Not Lassie!" "That's not the point you two," John groaned. "I know now, that I should have not gone into that jaunt at that time. When I came out of that jaunt, I was deathly ill and had lost my powers. As you can see," he tugged on a fingerfull of hair for emphasis. "This mis-jaunt disrupted my entire physical makeup. There are a couple dozen stitches in my back, because of some huge 'claw marks." "John, what caused those?" Kenny took the liberty to mentally feel out the injuries. He had no wish to actually view the slashes. "I dunno," John rolled his lower lip. "Some severe upper body contortion. What ever caused them, was not pleasant." Folding his arms across his chest, John regarded each of his people in turn, not really wanting to order this, but he felt it necessary. "Please understand, until I can find an answer, I want you all, not to jaunt, not on your own and not with TIM's aid. This all happened to me, after I opened my mind to TIM's guidance and power boost." Carol frumped as she bounced onto her feet. "But John, how do we get around?" "Like everybody else," he levelly stared at her. "On foot, or by the bus, or take the underground." "Look, John's right," Stephen added. "Breaching the dimensions, like we do, is far more than a mere annoyance. John's proof of that!" [May I add something?] TIM interrupted. [The Galactic Trig has informed me, that among teleporting peoples inexplicable disappearances during jaunting do occur. There are even a few legends of monsters living within hyperspace, which consume the unwary.] "TIM, that's ridiculous. We've all been in hyperspace. There's nothing out there to support anything alive," Kenny injected. [Be that as it may,] TIM acknowledged. [Monsters aside, something bad happened to John in hyperspace. From the moment he dematerialized within the Lab, until he rematerialized in his home, I was unable to locate John. I had 'lost' him for over two minutes.] Three pairs of astonished eyes rounded onto their somber leader. "John ---" Carol whispered, shaking her head. "I don't know what happened, during that time," he softly confirmed. "I have no memory, nothing, but --- cold hyperspace tearing through me. That's why I don't want you to put yourselves in danger." John telekinetically floated his notes into his extended palm. "Come on," Stephen nudged Kenny, and tapped Carol on the shoulder. "Since we're all out together, let's make an afternoon of it." "What about you John?" Carol asked. "It is a lovely day." "I've got work to do," he answered quietly. Carol had closed the bedroom door, John flopped back. For several contemplative moments, he aimlessly stared at the galaxy poster he had tacked up on his ceiling. Harley bounded across his chest, then demurely sat beside John. As his human stared at his poster, Harley stared at him. Finally, John blinked, then rolled his gaze onto the cat's serene face. "Yes, I know professor," he playfully grumbled, rubbing Harley's jaw. "Back to work." The cat purred, smashing his entire head and throat into John's hand. The Tomorrow Person pulled himself up, rebuilt his mound of pillows. Comfortable, John collected his pad, as Harley eased onto his shoulders. For what felt to be the thousandth time, John reviewed the complex formulae. Half way down the page, John poked at the annoying section. "This still isn't right." Harley tickled John's ear with his tail tip. John brushed the tip aside, then crumpled the top page. "That's useless. But you're feeling playful, eh?" John tossed the wad across the room where the ball grazed off the rubbish can lip, then bounced twice on the carpet. Harley was disinterested, so John returned to his work. Again, he scribbled the now familiar preamble, which John was certain was right. What was instinct, or appeared to them to be trained instinct, John struggled to translate into calculus. Harley purred on. Unannounced consciously, but invited unconsciously, Harley padded quickly into his thoughts. John's thoughts were particularly bright and whirling fast. Harley felt certain that his human was close to the correct solution. Suddenly, the cat stopped purring, as his pupils widened. He had witnessed the formation of the growing theorem. He did not quite understand the figures before the maths, but the cat sensed a new correctness. The maths were not obeying what they both sensed needed to be done. Feeling his human's muscles tense beneath his pads, Harley crept tighter, calculating, waiting. Their minds spun, matching the same frantic tempo and brightness, but each only understood the other in their own terms. The more focused they became on their individual mental dances, Harley realized that he had the proper solution, but his human did not. If he could not communicate with John, he might as well spent his time chasing paper wads. John's grip on the pencil tightened, as the symbols came even faster. Harley realized, that wrongness was creeping back. Intense yellow eyes focused on the pencil. At a critical moment, a white mitten flashed forward. "Harley!!" John growled, as the cat's claws forced the line he meant it to be into a lazy S. "Now lettgo! You're no help at ---" Once he freed the pencil, John paused, then blinked, reviewing what the symbol did to his figures. "A function in section eleven??" He steeply bent over his pad. Seated at his side, Harley silently followed his fast review. John brought the eraser to bare, clearing away the wrongness, correcting the calculations Then his thoughtful gaze flickered back to the function symbol. His pencil made numbers, triangles and slashes. After several minutes of tense work, a smile threatened to break out on his somber face, as his eyes swung back and forth on the critical formulae. "This may be it," John announced in a tight whisper and telepathy with TIM alone, as he chucked Harley's boney chin. "Thank you Harley ol' chap!" John softly laughed, for the very idea of a cat being able to understand calculus, much less hyperspacial geometry was absurd. The cat relaxed into complete contentment. Humans were always like that. All that matter to Harley was that he was able to reach out to John and made him realize his mistake. ************************************************************************ Over the following days, in contact with TIM, John checked, tweaked and rechecked the new jaunting calculations. He had to be certain, before doing the experiment. Of course the other Tomorrow People badgered him on his progress, between Kenny's remarks on John's dark roots. Now Harley spent less time on John's shoulders, and more time on 'catly' pursuits, such as making certain that he got his proper share of the leftovers, to chasing paper wads, birdwatching out of the windows and of course teasing Lady. In short, Harley felt relieved to the point of kittenishness. On the fifth day after 'John's' discovery, he called his people back to his house. This time they gathered in the more spacious living room. He confidently stood before his father's piano, and jaunted. Without breaching the transdimentional barriers, as smoothly as Harley did. John immediately jaunted back to the Lab, gathering the spare belts and his tool kit. As a final check, John linked with TIM, so they could go over the formulae one more time. Then John teleported back to the others. The change in the formulae, meant that the belts themselves had to be changed. Among other technical and mental alterations, John had to clip on four crystals to each belt to help evenly balance the self energy burst across the body. As he worked, John eagerly went into minutiae scientific details on the new belts and jaunting style. Stephen, Carol and Kenny smiled, and personally struggled to understand their leader's happy 'scientificese' which Harley understood well. He preferred this time to purr nap on Carol's lap. As the cat dreamed, his mind scampered across time. He realized through the mists of the future contained hundreds of kittenish 'break out' cries. John and his people were preparing themselves to met those challenges, however, his people were so few in number. Falling back into the present, Harley suddenly snapped up his head. He knew that there would be Tomorrow People who would know even less about themselves, and worse about the dangers waiting for them in the wide universe. As he troubled, a hand caught him about the middle, and lifted him to the floor. "Come on Harley," Carol brightly called, as she stood. "We're jaunting back to the Lab to celebrate!" Four humming whispers tickled his outstretched whiskers. The cat realized that he was alone with the dog. Harley pricked his ears, tasting the still air for their fading psionic residues, as a confused Lady sniffed about the carpet where the Tomorrow People last stood together. It would have been a simple choice to follow 'his people' back to the comfortable Lab, where TIM's voice came from the ceiling. Lady sadly whimpered, then yawned. Harley decided. For the last time, he trotted over to the old dog, arching his back against her drooling jaw. They touched noses. Then the black and white bicolored cat shed his human name, before padding back to the piano. Tucking his tail tightly against his white mittened feet, the cat primly sat, vanishing with the faintest ripple. So began his hunt for more Tomorrow People, so they can be safely guided out of their kittenhoods. Finis ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Adams Subject: TPFICT: lab cat pt 2 Date: 22 Mar 1998 12:57:09 Lab Cat Part II An Original Series Story By Dianne Elliott DISCLAIMER: In the following fan fiction, I used the Tomorrow People, who belong to Roger Price and Thames River Television. I am not making a dime off of this tale, so please don't sue! If you wish to archive Lab Cat, please do so, with this disclaimer. Granted, John, TIM, Kenny, Carol, Ginge and Lefty are copyrighted characters belonging to Roger Price, the animal characters of Harley and Lady are based on several dogs and cats I have had the privilege of knowing throughout the years. For the proper time frame of this story, it takes place across the first season, from just after Stephen's joining of the TP to about the time period before they left to go to the Trig for the first time. After several progressless hours, John tossed down his stylus, groaning as he pressed his banging head against the heel of his raised hand. [How do you do it?] his demanding stare swung onto the dozing feline head on his right shoulder. Harley's eyes cracked open, meeting his. Of course there was not a hint of a telepathic touch between them. [Well?] As if giving an answer, Harley eased off his shoulder, landing clumsily on the Link Table, purposefully scattering John's neatly piled notes. "Harley!" he crowed, rushing to shove the priming cat off, as even more papers cascaded to the floor. Harley scampered off, flying up the staircase. John seethed, snatching up his notes. "Why don't you take a rest?" TIM diplomatically suggested. "You have been working steadily for over twelve hours." [I know], he shoved his mixed up papers into untidy piles on the table. [All over those silly lights.] His forehead furrowed beneath the fall of thick dark hair, his mind wheeling over uncomfortable thoughts. [Maybe it's me. Maybe ---] "We have gone over this John," TIM gently interrupted. [Granted the Tomorrow People and you in particular have been suffering from mild headaches which have been aggravated by jaunting, however, their initial causes can be traced to disturbances in sleep and stress. Your headaches are caused by eyestrain and overwork.] [Still ---] John massaged his temples. "Merrr," Harley poised from the top stair, the white tip of his tail swaying gently. "You're no real help," John grumbled, rubbing his cramping neck. Harley stretched and laid down, watching his human. The cat's sensitive whiskers spread, as his pupils enlarged, intense orbs. Something was attempting to come through the jaunting alcove. Harley could smell it, feel its zapping coldness, as the monster tried to rip its way into this reality. Harley bristled, as tentacles erupted from the walls and floor of the jaunting alcove. John nor TIM could perceive the intruder. "I'm going home," John sourly put in, stuffing the last of his jumbled notes into a calculus textbook. "Maybe with a good night's sleep---" *MMERRULL!* with a warrior's cry, Harley launched himself from the top stair. He purposely ran between John's feet, winding his lithe body back. Nudging and prancing about, Harley twined his legs, making it impossible for John to make a step. "HARLEY!" John loudly snapped, rudely toeing the upset cat aside. "I want to go home!!" "Meow!" Harley brightly twirled, bracing his forepaws on John's trousers, begging for attention like a kitten, with stronger claws poking through for emphasis. "Meow!!" John shook his head no, eyeing the ceiling. "Very well," his fingers went for the heavy belt latches. "I can jaunt from here." Harley jumped up, narrowly avoiding a lashing tentacle. It snaked around John's ankle, as he faded. "MERRA!!!" The cat vanished. ************************************************************************ Down in the kitchen, the elderly cocker spaniel Lady woke whimpering from a deep sleep. Quite puzzled, her long floppy ears pulled forward, as she tasted the still air for any sign of her young master. Granted, her senses were not as sharp as they were in puppyhood, but she was certain John was in the kitchen. The light was still out, and no gentle hand reached down and patted her head. Pulling herself onto her stiff legs, Lady plodded about the ground floor. John's scent was hours old, and faint. A whimper worked up her dried throat. She was certain that John was there, and suddenly left. That was horribly wrong. ************************************************************************ Harley found himself in free fall through lavender mist. He did not care for this continuos leap, his paws not touching the ground until he left in-between. Paddling offered control, but at the loss of speed. Stretching farther, Harley reflected on how he did not care for swimming. Self preservation boiled that he leave hyperspace, but he refused. Retreating below, was John enveloped by that alien thing. Its plasmosoid body was so thick, that Harley could no longer see his engulfed human. John's life force was winding away. Harley spat, arching his spine, as he touched their common hunter's thread, already judging the monster. The alien intended to trap the Tomorrow People one by one, drain them to death, without their knowledge, starting with the only one of them who presented a threat. John, with his advanced mathematics, whirling intelligence and an extra sense as he dismissed as so many headaches. He was dying, before he ever really learned how to fully master his powers. His opened mouth clotted with foul ooze, unable to scream, barely able to draw a breath, John choked in agony. The ameoboid creature harshly rippled against his body, both drowning and crushing the Tomorrow Person. Harley realized that there was only one way to save this important friend's life. He expanded his mind and body to beyond the edges of human experience, but not that of the felines. Armed with massive, thumbed paws and stabbing canines, he pounced, tearing into the soft flesh. Although yielding, the damaged tissue did not bleed. Instead the gummy surface quickly seeped back in place and repaired itself. Throughout the attack, deep within, the monster continued to drain John. Below the yellowed skin, smaller beasts slithered within, like so many bloated worms. Two thorny skinned worms attempted to mash his submerged paw, as more tiny red worms swarmed to it, creating a gelatinous sac, into which they injected a burning liquid. Angrily yowling, Harley lashed wildly at the offending things. He kept slashing, flaying anything that dared stray too close. Flying bits of monster began to adhere together, but the worms escaped into hyperspace. Finally his claws struck true, living flesh, causing his human to weakly yelp. Sputtering on plasma jell, John rolled from the developing stomach sac. Harley wrapped his huge furry hands about John's heaving chest, yanking his body from the quivering monster. Through the hunter's thread, the two creatures coldly regarded one another. The cat then discovered that the nearly mindless monster prowled the in-between seeking then killing the unwary for food, just as he had done to mice. Harley finally realized why Carol was so upset with his gift. A tentacle suddenly snapped out of the quivering bulk. Harley snarled, neatly whisking off the offending limb, short of John's heaving chest. The monster quivered, collecting its severed pieces into its ball, then fell out of sight. Confused, John forced his aching eyes open, hoping to see that Harley was all right. Harley's wide, wise yellow eyes peered through contented slits, but on a far different being. Instead of a black and white alley cat, John saw a saber toothed tiger, holding him with large articulate and clawed hands. "H-Harley?" he wheezed in disbelief. The long triangular ears flickered briefly back into a mane, then snapped attentively forward, as the claws sheathed themselves. The Smilodon man leaned over the nervous Tomorrow Person, as he tried to push himself away. Tenderly, as all of his humans had done to him, Harley had picked up John, by looping his paws across his human's stomach. The Tomorrow Person felt violently ill, but John was no longer in danger of drowning. ************************************************************************ When his gummy eyes unsealed themselves, John found himself laying on his side on the kitchen floor. Dear old Lady barked her welcome, as her uncertain legs scurried over the recently waxed tiles. "Easy girl," a violent retch raked through his suspiciously sore ribcage, as John tried to keep his excited pet at arm's length. Lady whined and wiggled, trying to sniff the strange goo. Just as the dog managed a fast taste from John's cheek, a white paw flashed out. A cat scratch erupted across the tender tip of her black nose. Yelping, Lady drew back, just as the kitchen light flipped on. "Has that bloody cat ---?" John's mother began to fume. "JOHN!!" ************************************************************************ After a through examination, the family doctor insisted that John stay at home, in bed, for at least a week. The physician concluded that the young man had a nasty case of stomach flu, on top of a bad upper respiratory infection. Although John's mother maintained that a stray black and white cat did it, the doctor did not understand how he got the 'lion' like slashes across his back or why his dark hair had suddenly turned white. John was more concerned about the mysterious loss of his powers, but only voiced that problem to his family. Naturally, his parents were quite upset, knowing something terrible had happened to him. As usual, John was reluctant to talk about what little he could remember of his 'nightmare', only muttering about a giant amoebae. His parents redoubled their efforts to make certain that their only son was made comfortable, which only grated against John's needs for his normal, but great amount of privacy. When his mother was not forcing chicken soup on him or his father bringing up unwanted magazines, John fussed with his mixed up papers, trying to find all of his jaunting calculations. Lady was allowed upstairs, to keep him company, which John welcomed. She eagerly gulped down his leftovers, then lay her head on his bed, to be patted. John avoided looking at her injured nose, for it was a too uncomfortable reminder of that night. The next morning, John awoke suddenly, feeling a solid, immobile object stationed in the middle of his bed. "Harley??" he croaked unbelievingly at the cat. In response, Harley bowed his head, then picked up his forepaw, and began to lick it. "Johnny?" his mother chimed out, causing Harley to fly under the bed, and John to wince. "Breakfast!" Lady trotted in at her heels. "Thank you mother," he quietly sighed. "If you need anything ---" she angled toward the door. "I'll ring the bell," John gathered up the morning paper. As Lady quietly watched, and waited for her morning handout, Harley climbed onto the bed from the other side. The dog growled. "No fighting you two," John reminded them. "Mum would be up here in a flash if she hears so much as one bark." Harley watched Lady wolf down two heaps of scrambled eggs and a strip of bacon, before he cautiously climbed over the reading John. Lady glared hard at the cat. Through an unspoken link, both animals decided that they were friends to John, and that they would honor his request for peace. With a brief touching of noses, Harley draped himself across John's shoulders, while Lady kept tight to his bedside. Harley softly padded into the flow of John's thoughts and waited. The colors had greyed, his thoughts no longer whirled in pretty formulae. For over a day, his depressing notions focused on his sickness and his unanswered fears about jaunting. With purring nudges, Harley farther drained that unpleasantness from the in-between, but John's doubts stubbornly held tight. John reconsidered his life and special powers. That concerned Harley, for his human was gravely tempted to give them up, for a quiet life of being a university student. Quiet was a feline desire, not at the cost of giving up a part of oneself. After the last meal of the day, which John deliberately and evenly divided the leftovers between the cat and dog, a piece of a proof weakly flickered across his thoughts. Harley allowed Lady most of his portion of roast beef and potatoes, as he raced for John's shoulders. With wide eyes, the cat watched him collect a pen and pad from his nightstand. John slowly committed his thoughts to page. Harley began to purr, nudging gently his ear and thick white hair. Teasing that first, correct part of the complex theorem from John's greyed mind, Harley assumed must be as difficult as urging wormling kittens to open their senses. The task also took most of the night. Still propped up in bed, John drifted off to sleep, with Harley curled about his neck. A deep throated rumble followed him through all of his dreams. ************************************************************************ [Good morning John,] TIM's mental touch gently awakened him. [How are you feeling this morning?] [Fine TIM,] John yawned as he telepathed, not realizing that his special powers had recovered. Then his dull eyes suddenly flashed in realization that his mind was once again fully functional. [TIM?] [Yes, John?] "Er---" he rubbed his stubbled chin in thought, concluding that he needed a shave. "TIM, has anything happened to any of the others?" [They are well, however, they are also quite concerned about you.] [I'll recover in a few more days, TIM. But I must know, have there been any problems with jaunting? Such as suddenly losing all physical strength after materialization? Even headaches? Please, TIM, this is very important.] [There have been no farther problems with jaunting, John,] the biotronic computer reaffirmed. [Stephen has taken charge during your absence. In view of your mis-jaunt, he has forbidden the others from jaunting, except in emergencies.] [Good,] John forced his racing heart to calm. [TIM, can you have them come to my house, by noon?] [Of course. You still wish that they do not jaunt?] [Yes,] John swung his long legs from out from under the covers. [Yes, please TIM.] ************************************************************************ After cleaning up, John tried to focus more on the jaunting calculations, however, he spent most of the morning wording and rewording what he wanted to say to his friends. Through the jaunting belt crystal, TIM ran a remote physical probe, and informed him that he was still weakened by his experiences, however, John was perfectly healthy. John still had his worries. At the appointed hour, Carol materialized at the foot of his bed. "Carol!" John snapped, glaring at the grinning girl over his pad. "You know that I didn't want you to jaunt!" "Oh John," she pouted, as she settled on the edge of his bed. "I had my belt on!" "That's not the issue," he fumed, as Harley slipped off of his shoulders and sauntered over to her. "I've come to the conclusion that there is something fundamentally wrong with how we jaunt!" "H'lo Harley," she sweetly greeted the cat, as she pulled him onto her lap. "We were wondering where you had gotten off to. You've hadn't been back to the Lab since John had his accident!" "Carol ---" John paused. Reflecting, Harley had been with him constantly since the second morning. Outside of the odd bit of leftover beef or bacon, the cat had not eaten at all. Harley was rolling and purring, enjoying Carol's lavish attentions, so John concluded that the cat was okay. "John ---" his mother tapped on the thin door, before leaning in. "Are you up to seeing your ---?" Her eyes alighted disapprovingly on Carol. "I guess you are." "John!" Stephen smiled, as he stepped in. "How are you?" Kenny's dark eyes flashed mischievously. "Old man?" "Very funny," John drolly commented, with a toss of his noble head. "Actually John," Carol's cheeks rosed. "I find your white hair quite --- sexy." "Right," he fidgeted, scooping his copious bangs out of his eyes. "I didn't call us together to show off my hair color. I called us together to discuss what caused it." "Your mis-jaunt," Stephen gravely nodded, pocketing his slender hands. "Kenny and I've been teleporting a few inanimate objects, and measuring for any changes in weight and composition." "And?" "There aren't any, John," the teenager frowned. "Even on a molecular level." "Something happened to you, but what, we are all stomped John," Kenny put in. "I see," their leader muttered, scanning their anxious expressions. "Breaching the transdimentional hyperspacial matrix must be the key." "What?" Carol winced. [It causes those 'funny lights', when we jaunt,] Kenny telepathically explained to her. "Now, I've done some calculations that show those 'funny lights' are actually a waste of our personal energies," John announced. "Normally, we don't notice this loss, unless we're weakened in some manner. In those incidents, the loss to those lights can become dangerous." "Like, when we're injured," Kenny sourly put in, remembering how his game saving head butt resulted in a major concussion. "Or when we're overly tired," Carol brightly added. "John, you work far too much at times." He straightened his shoulders, mildly insulted at her sympathy. Granted, Carol was correct, but John was not willing to admit that to himself. "Okay," he sighed, "but there is something more to those bloody lights --- a danger that we still are not aware of." Harley cupped his ears attentively at his human. "Forget the element of surprise," Stephen mumbled. John snapped his gaze onto him. "What do you mean?" "Well," he began slowly. "Let's say that the Saps get used to the fact we can jaunt. They would know about those lights appearing before we appear, and then fading afterwards. I know it's less than a second, but what if the Saps are fast enough to train a rapid fire weapon on our ---" "Stephen," Carol interrupted as she cringed. "Please stop it, you're scaring me!" "That may become painfully true," John defended, sinking into his mound of pillows. What Stephen suggested jarred his blocked thoughts. Suddenly he was anxious to get back to work on the calculations. The breech would attract undue attention. "Maybe I was overly tired and anxious to get home that night," he sternly began. "Harley here even tried to stop me by getting underfoot." "Maybe he sensed that something was wrong," Carol put in. "Animals can sense things beyond human comprehending." "Carol, Harley's just a moggy," Kenny ruefully rolled his eyes. "Not Lassie!" "That's not the point you two," John groaned. "I know now, that I should have not gone into that jaunt at that time. When I came out of that jaunt, I was deathly ill and had lost my powers. As you can see," he tugged on a fingerfull of hair for emphasis. "This mis-jaunt disrupted my entire physical makeup. There are a couple dozen stitches in my back, because of some huge 'claw marks." "John, what caused those?" Kenny took the liberty to mentally feel out the injuries. He had no wish to actually view the slashes. "I dunno," John rolled his lower lip. "Some severe upper body contortion. What ever caused them, was not pleasant." Folding his arms across his chest, John regarded each of his people in turn, not really wanting to order this, but he felt it necessary. "Please understand, until I can find an answer, I want you all, not to jaunt, not on your own and not with TIM's aid. This all happened to me, after I opened my mind to TIM's guidance and power boost." Carol frumped as she bounced onto her feet. "But John, how do we get around?" "Like everybody else," he levelly stared at her. "On foot, or by the bus, or take the underground." "Look, John's right," Stephen added. "Breaching the dimensions, like we do, is far more than a mere annoyance. John's proof of that!" [May I add something?] TIM interrupted. [The Galactic Trig has informed me, that among teleporting peoples inexplicable disappearances during jaunting do occur. There are even a few legends of monsters living within hyperspace, which consume the unwary.] "TIM, that's ridiculous. We've all been in hyperspace. There's nothing out there to support anything alive," Kenny injected. [Be that as it may,] TIM acknowledged. [Monsters aside, something bad happened to John in hyperspace. From the moment he dematerialized within the Lab, until he rematerialized in his home, I was unable to locate John. I had 'lost' him for over two minutes.] Three pairs of astonished eyes rounded onto their somber leader. "John ---" Carol whispered, shaking her head. "I don't know what happened, during that time," he softly confirmed. "I have no memory, nothing, but --- cold hyperspace tearing through me. That's why I don't want you to put yourselves in danger." John telekinetically floated his notes into his extended palm. "Come on," Stephen nudged Kenny, and tapped Carol on the shoulder. "Since we're all out together, let's make an afternoon of it." "What about you John?" Carol asked. "It is a lovely day." "I've got work to do," he answered quietly. Carol had closed the bedroom door, John flopped back. For several contemplative moments, he aimlessly stared at the galaxy poster he had tacked up on his ceiling. Harley bounded across his chest, then demurely sat beside John. As his human stared at his poster, Harley stared at him. Finally, John blinked, then rolled his gaze onto the cat's serene face. "Yes, I know professor," he playfully grumbled, rubbing Harley's jaw. "Back to work." The cat purred, smashing his entire head and throat into John's hand. The Tomorrow Person pulled himself up, rebuilt his mound of pillows. Comfortable, John collected his pad, as Harley eased onto his shoulders. For what felt to be the thousandth time, John reviewed the complex formulae. Half way down the page, John poked at the annoying section. "This still isn't right." Harley tickled John's ear with his tail tip. John brushed the tip aside, then crumpled the top page. "That's useless. But you're feeling playful, eh?" John tossed the wad across the room where the ball grazed off the rubbish can lip, then bounced twice on the carpet. Harley was disinterested, so John returned to his work. Again, he scribbled the now familiar preamble, which John was certain was right. What was instinct, or appeared to them to be trained instinct, John struggled to translate into calculus. Harley purred on. Unannounced consciously, but invited unconsciously, Harley padded quickly into his thoughts. John's thoughts were particularly bright and whirling fast. Harley felt certain that his human was close to the correct solution. Suddenly, the cat stopped purring, as his pupils widened. He had witnessed the formation of the growing theorem. He did not quite understand the figures before the maths, but the cat sensed a new correctness. The maths were not obeying what they both sensed needed to be done. Feeling his human's muscles tense beneath his pads, Harley crept tighter, calculating, waiting. Their minds spun, matching the same frantic tempo and brightness, but each only understood the other in their own terms. The more focused they became on their individual mental dances, Harley realized that he had the proper solution, but his human did not. If he could not communicate with John, he might as well spent his time chasing paper wads. John's grip on the pencil tightened, as the symbols came even faster. Harley realized, that wrongness was creeping back. Intense yellow eyes focused on the pencil. At a critical moment, a white mitten flashed forward. "Harley!!" John growled, as the cat's claws forced the line he meant it to be into a lazy S. "Now lettgo! You're no help at ---" Once he freed the pencil, John paused, then blinked, reviewing what the symbol did to his figures. "A function in section eleven??" He steeply bent over his pad. Seated at his side, Harley silently followed his fast review. John brought the eraser to bare, clearing away the wrongness, correcting the calculations Then his thoughtful gaze flickered back to the function symbol. His pencil made numbers, triangles and slashes. After several minutes of tense work, a smile threatened to break out on his somber face, as his eyes swung back and forth on the critical formulae. "This may be it," John announced in a tight whisper and telepathy with TIM alone, as he chucked Harley's boney chin. "Thank you Harley ol' chap!" John softly laughed, for the very idea of a cat being able to understand calculus, much less hyperspacial geometry was absurd. The cat relaxed into complete contentment. Humans were always like that. All that matter to Harley was that he was able to reach out to John and made him realize his mistake. ************************************************************************ Over the following days, in contact with TIM, John checked, tweaked and rechecked the new jaunting calculations. He had to be certain, before doing the experiment. Of course the other Tomorrow People badgered him on his progress, between Kenny's remarks on John's dark roots. Now Harley spent less time on John's shoulders, and more time on 'catly' pursuits, such as making certain that he got his proper share of the leftovers, to chasing paper wads, birdwatching out of the windows and of course teasing Lady. In short, Harley felt relieved to the point of kittenishness. On the fifth day after 'John's' discovery, he called his people back to his house. This time they gathered in the more spacious living room. He confidently stood before his father's piano, and jaunted. Without breaching the transdimentional barriers, as smoothly as Harley did. John immediately jaunted back to the Lab, gathering the spare belts and his tool kit. As a final check, John linked with TIM, so they could go over the formulae one more time. Then John teleported back to the others. The change in the formulae, meant that the belts themselves had to be changed. Among other technical and mental alterations, John had to clip on four crystals to each belt to help evenly balance the self energy burst across the body. As he worked, John eagerly went into minutiae scientific details on the new belts and jaunting style. Stephen, Carol and Kenny smiled, and personally struggled to understand their leader's happy 'scientificese' which Harley understood well. He preferred this time to purr nap on Carol's lap. As the cat dreamed, his mind scampered across time. He realized through the mists of the future contained hundreds of kittenish 'break out' cries. John and his people were preparing themselves to met those challenges, however, his people were so few in number. Falling back into the present, Harley suddenly snapped up his head. He knew that there would be Tomorrow People who would know even less about themselves, and worse about the dangers waiting for them in the wide universe. As he troubled, a hand caught him about the middle, and lifted him to the floor. "Come on Harley," Carol brightly called, as she stood. "We're jaunting back to the Lab to celebrate!" Four humming whispers tickled his outstretched whiskers. The cat realized that he was alone with the dog. Harley pricked his ears, tasting the still air for their fading psionic residues, as a confused Lady sniffed about the carpet where the Tomorrow People last stood together. It would have been a simple choice to follow 'his people' back to the comfortable Lab, where TIM's voice came from the ceiling. Lady sadly whimpered, then yawned. Harley decided. For the last time, he trotted over to the old dog, arching his back against her drooling jaw. They touched noses. Then the black and white bicolored cat shed his human name, before padding back to the piano. Tucking his tail tightly against his white mittened feet, the cat primly sat, vanishing with the faintest ripple. So began his hunt for more Tomorrow People, so they can be safely guided out of their kittenhoods. Finis ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michael Matott Subject: TPFICT: Monolith Part 8/8 Date: 22 Mar 1998 23:08:06 -0500 First, I goofed in my last part. I cut off a small scene that was supposed to be the real cliffhanger of the last part. Oops. It's now the start of this part. Second, this isn't the last part of the story. A small Epilogue will be posted right after I post this. Third, this part is LONG, but I couldn't find a convenient place to cut. Last, a reminder that 'quote' equals thoughts, [bracket] is telepathic communication, and [!!!] indicates an empathic communication that doesn't translate to words (you get all three in this part). Questions and comments to matottm@alleg.edu, PLEASE!!! Thanks. mike (I'll shut up now, promise...) "Adam," her voice came like cracked glass through his ears, "are you ready to help us now?" Adam just nodded his head. His tongue felt too heavy to move. "That's my boy," the woman's voice grew soothing, coaxing. "Now, I want you to tell me what you're going to do." "I'm going to teleport to the Worldex offices, find General Damon," Adam paused, some insignificant voice was batted aside. "And kill him." **************************************** "Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse," Megabyte said dramatically, "it gets worse." "What?" Lisa asked impatiently. "I think we've found a name to go with the 'parasite' as we've been calling it." "Where?" Greg asked. "There's another file," Megabyte moved over so they could see the screen. "It's Greg's file." "What does it say?" Lisa and Greg asked simultaneously. "See for yourself," Megabyte scrolled down so that they could read the file. "Apparently the people in charge here knew something about the entity that possessed Greg. According to this, there are four of them still locked in the big stone columns of Stonehenge. They call them the 'Caireen.' Someone named Angela, Angela Mason, was responsible for the project that isolated them. According to this, they used the telepathic energy of the entities to boost the telepathic abilities they gave you." "Well, other than their name, it doesn't really tell us anything that we didn't already know," Greg said. "Wrong. This Angela you told us about, her lab is listed in the file. We know where she is now. I bet we know where Adam's being kept." Lisa was about to say something when suddenly the world seemed to explode around the three Tomorrow People. A cacophony of voices and images flooded their minds. Greg saw the stone column towering over him again. He felt as if he was going insane. He wanted to get as far away from the Caireen as he could. Before he could do anything, Lisa's voice filled his head. [Greg,] she said, [Stay calm. Focus on my voice. Let everything else drift by. Don't let the flood wash you away from us.] [Lisa, Megabyte?] Greg tried to shut everything out; the flood was receding to a trickle. [We're here] their voices came blended together. [Whatever was blocking our powers is gone,] Megabyte 'pathed. [We all got flooded by the sudden onrush of thoughts. Lisa and I went into rapport right away to deal with it. Then Lisa reached out to bring you into the rapport when she sensed you about to teleport away.] [I was so scared,] Greg was shaking, [I was right back where it all started. And they wanted me to kill him. And I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere.] [It's all right, Greg,] Lisa tried to sooth him. Megabyte felt something brush across his mind. [Adam!] he shouted. [Megabyte, what is it?] Lisa turned to him. [He was here,] Megabyte 'pathed. [He was here but he's gone now. He's gone... Oh my God!] Megabyte teleported out in a blinding flash of light. [Megabyte!] Lisa shouted vainly after him. ****************************************** General Damon set down his fifth cup of coffee and picked up the phone. He promptly put it back down. He had called his field commander only five minutes earlier. There was no sign of his son or Greg Jeffries. His operatives had staked the place out and had seen no one enter or exit. Damon didn't let that surprise him. After all, there was little chance anyone would've seen Megabyte or Greg entering the building from outside. That still didn't mean they weren't there. In a few minutes, his operatives would cut the power and launch a raid on the Center for Paranormal Research. If Adam or Lisa were being held captive there, his men would find them. He hoped. A flash of light out of the corner of his eye caused General Damon to upset his coffee cup. He muttered a slight curse under his breath. "You'd think I'd be used to that by now," he said half to himself. He looked over to see which of the Tomorrow People had popped into his office. "Adam?" General Damon was surprised to see the tall, dark-haired Australian standing in front of him. He was about to ask where the others were when he noticed the automatic pistol aimed at his chest. 'They can't kill,' Damon thought. 'Megabyte told me that himself. Not even if they wanted to.' Then doubt crept in, 'That still doesn't explain how Greg managed it.' At that moment, a second burst of light filled the room and General Damon's son stood in the other corner. "Dad!" he shouted, about to spring towards his father. "Megabyte, stay back!" Bill Damon ordered his son, and for once he listened. "Dad, Adam's not in his right mind. They've got him drugged up on psychotics." "It's okay, son. Just let me try to handle this," Damon held his hands up towards Adam in what he hoped was a non-hostile manner. "Now, Adam, why don't you just put the gun down and tell me about the people who kidnapped you." "I have my orders," Adam said, voice shaking. "I have to kill General Damon." "Dad, you'll never get through to him," Megabyte said. "You have to give me a chance." "All right," Damon said. "Do it. But if it comes down to it, my life isn't worth as much as yours. Teleport out of here if it even looks like he might hurt you." [Adam,] Megabyte reached out as lightly as he could to his friend. He didn't want Adam to interpret it as an attack. [Adam,] he tried, a bit louder, feeling some sort of resistance to his call. From far away, Lisa's voice echoed in his mind, [Megabyte, they've cut the power here. There are troops everywhere rounding up the Center personnel.] [You and Greg get out of there. Get back to the ship. I'm trying to get through to Adam. He's got a gun pointed at my dad.] [!!!] was the reply from Lisa. [Be careful, Megabyte.] 'He's in there somewhere. I can feel it. I just need to bring him back in control,' Megabyte thought. Adam flicked the safety of the gun. [Adam, this is Megabyte. Your friend. Please listen to me. You can't do this. That's my dad. Why would you want to kill my dad?] [I have to get rid of the pain. Angela told me that if I got rid of him, the pain would go away,] Adam said, a note of fear in his voice. [She's lying to you, Adam,] Megabyte responded, [You know me. Have I ever lied to you? We're telepaths. We share everything with each other. Please, Adam, believe me.] "I...I.." Adam spoke, gun wavering. "I don't know what to do." "Put the gun down," Megabyte said more calmly than he felt. Megabyte felt something growing louder in Adam's head. A voice that was getting stronger, louder. It seemed as if this voice was trying to override the programming. Adam's hand lowered shakily. The gun fell to the floor at his feet. Tears streamed down his eyes. He brought a hand up to his head and began to shriek. He collapsed onto the floor. Megabyte ran to him immediately. [Adam!] he cried. [Megabyte, it hurts, it hurts. Please make it stop!] Adam screamed. Megabyte felt some of his friend's pain come streaming at him through the telepathic link. It was incredible how much he had endured. Megabyte felt his friend slowly lose consciousness. The pain and the voices ebbing as he faded away. [Lisa?] Megabyte called. [What's happened, Megabyte? The screams. The hurt.] [It's Adam,] Megabyte replied. [He's unconscious. He didn't do it. We're all okay.] [Is it safe for us to 'port over?] she asked. [Yeah, I'm pretty shaken up. I could use your support.] Twin flashes of light appeared in front of him. Lisa and Greg were next to him in an instant. "Will he be all right?" Greg asked. "I think so," Megabyte said, "once the drugs are out of his system." "I'll call an ambulance," General Damon reached for the phone. "How.. how is his mind?" Lisa asked. "He's pretty fractured right now," Megabyte said. "It's like he has a split personality. The real Adam, the one we know, is trapped inside this assassin persona they created. There isn't going to be a quick fix for this. We're going to have to really help him get back to normal." "Hey, you know I'll always be here to help," Lisa said. "Um, I know I don't really know Adam that well, but I think I can relate to what he went through. Maybe I could be of some help," Greg said. Megabyte looked over at him and smiled, "Thanks, man. I think we'd all appreciate that." ******************************************** End Part 8 questions comments to matottm@alleg.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Michael Matott Subject: TPFICT: Monolith Epilogue Date: 22 Mar 1998 23:17:28 -0500 This is it. Finito. Comments/questions to matottm@alleg.edu. Thanks! mike ------------------ Epilogue "So, how long was I out of my mind?" Adam asked, spooning a generous amount of ice cream into his mouth. "All together I think it was three weeks," Lisa said. "Funny, I thought it was more like 19 years," Megabyte said. "Megabyte," Ami and Jade said simultaneously, then Jade hit him with a spare pillow. "Ow, just kidding." "What happened to Angela?" Adam asked, shuddering at her name. "She slipped away somehow," General Damon said. "We found a lot more about the Caireen in her personal computer as well as the motive for the murder of Neil Hamilton." "Really? Like what?" Adam asked. "Neil Hamilton worked previously for our friend Colonel Masters. He sold information to the Center regarding the existence of the Tomorrow People. Including information on telepathy that Dr. Mason used to give normal adolescents telepathy." "And the Caireen?" Greg asked. "Little hard information on that," Damon said. "Apparently Dr. Mason found a great deal of anecdotal and mythological references that tied together telepathic energy beings with the stones at Stonehenge. She discovered a unique energy pattern that she found she was able to modify using her surgically endowed telepaths. The energy overflow killed her first two experimental subjects. Greg was the third and only successful merger of energy being and human." "Any idea if there are any more of these Cairheen trapped in the stones?" Ami asked. "No," Damon said, "but you can be sure my men will be keeping a very close eye on Stonehenge from now on. And if Dr. Mason shows up there, we'll be sure to take her down as quickly as possible. I'd hate to see what would happen if she set free another one of those telepathic parasites." "I still don't understand why they had me kill this guy," Greg said. "If he was supplying the Center with classified information, wouldn't they want him alive?" "My guess would be that Mr. Hamilton had decided to sell out the Center," Damon said. "If he was willing to sell out once, why not do it again? My men should know for sure shortly." "What happens to me now?" Greg asked. "The charges will be dropped," Damon said. "Basically, the U.S. government will conveniently forget that the event ever happened, in exchange for all of the information our agents recovered from the Center." "All of it?" Adam asked. "Well, they might find that there were a few problems with spontaneous deletions of information concerning Stonehenge and how to turn ordinary people into Tomorrow People. I think maybe my son would know a bit more about that than I would." "Hey, don't look at me," Megabyte said. "It's not my fault they handed the disks to me. Who would've thought my handling them would erase certain things?" "Oh please," Ami said, "Don't even try to look innocent." "So is this the point where we say 'Our secret's safe with you, General.' and go riding off into the sunset?" Greg asked. "Something like that," Lisa said. "Bye-bye, Adam. I've got to get home. My mom'll worry if I'm not back soon." "Same here," Ami said. "You know me mum. She probably thinks you're contagious." "See you tomorrow, Adam," Jade said. "Thanks for trying to help me, Adam. I owe you and Lisa everything," Greg said. "You'd do the same for us in a minute," Adam said. A final round of goodbyes to Adam, Megabyte and General Damon and then four teens vanished from sight. "I guess we're leaving here the more old fashioned way," Megabyte said. "Megabyte," Adam said. "Thanks." "No problem, bud," the red-head said. "Just try to stay out of trouble for the next couple of weeks." [Unless you're already with me?] [Well, duh.] [Goodbye, Megabyte.] "Later," he replied, heading out the door. General Damon followed, wishing Adam well. The young Australian lay back down on the bed. His head throbbed lightly. The voices had faded, except for the ones that belonged in his head. The voices of his friends and the people like him. The other ones, the dark ones, were gone. And so was the dream of the stone column; the monolith. Adam closed his eyes and enjoyed a sleep free of nightmares. He smiled in his sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a wonderful day. ------------------ Questions/comments to matottm@alleg.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: A Midseason's Dream Part 03/07 Date: 25 Mar 1998 13:07:21 -0600 (CST) A Midseason's Dream An Original Series Story by Beth Epstein Part 3 They mulled through the problem over and over-- not sure whether or not they needed to worry, and unsure how, or even if they should confront John and Elizabeth with what they had heard. Protocol said to ignore it, but this was nearly impossible to ignore. After a couple of hours of this, they were ready to give up. "Milkshakes?" Stephen suggested. "Sure. But isn't the chippy closed?" "We'll just have to go to the lab; we've got to face TIM sometime." Tyso nodded. "What do we do if Liz and John are there?" "Play it by ear. Try and pick up on the general mood." The two placed their hands on their belts and jaunted. * * * "'ello, TIM," Tyso vainly attempted to sound enthusiastic. "Hi, TIM," Stephen added. "Stephen, Tyso. What brings you to the lab at this hour?" Why was it that TIM always seemed to get the most parental at the most inconvenient times? "We just thought we'd pop in for a milkshake," Tyso replied. "Unless there's some reason that we shouldn't. Could I have chocolate please, TIM?" "I'd like chocolate mint, please." The drinks appeared. "What's bothering you two? I seriously doubt you would come in only for drinks at this time of night." "Nothing," the boys chorused. "The last time you had a chocolate mint milkshake, Stephen, was shortly after Carol and Kenny left Earth. You only seem to drink them when you're upset." "I'm fine, TIM, really," Stephen replied. "You do not seem fine. You both seem to be projecting an air of... fret and worry." "Oh, we just got embarrassed by a couple of girls down at the disco," Tyso started. "Yeah," Stephen picked up on it. "All we did was ask them to dance and they poured their milkshakes over our heads! It was really embarrassing." "I see," TIM wasn't really convinced, but decided that if the boys were going to go as far as to lie to him, it was probably best to leave things alone, at least until John and Elizabeth were able to deal with it. "How long did you have to put up with John all by yourself before Elizabeth broke out?" Tyso hoped the change of subject would throw TIM off the scent. "A month or so." "Must've been awful." "It wasn't so bad-- other than when he kept jaunting off to some hot spot of the universe while I was stuck in Old Tripe 'n' Ale's art class in school. It was actually harder right after Liz broke out." "You're kidding, right?" "Well, I'd been her pupil for awhile, but I'd been a Tomorrow Person longer than she had, so suddenly I was the teacher and she was the student in some ways. Once she got the hang of things, we settled into the way things are now-- well, except I was the bottom of the pecking order," Stephen grinned. "But seriously, it's been much more fun since you've broken out because I finally have someone around my own age to hang around with." "Thanks." There was a long pause. "Stephen, did John really go jaunting off to all the tropical hot spots of the galaxy?" "Mmm-hmm." "Some people do have jam on it, as you would say," Tyso almost grinned, in spite of his foul mood. "And so he did, all too frequently for my liking," John said from the jaunting pad. Liz stood next to him. The comforting flavor of Stephen's milkshake had suddenly turned to mud. He checked his watch. "Oh, comet tails, look at the time. I'd better be getting home before I get grounded again." He rose and headed for the jaunting pad. Tyso followed suit. "Me mum'll 'ave fits." "Thanks for the drinks, TIM," the boys chorused, and jaunted. John and Elizabeth exchanged puzzled glances. "What on Earth was all that about, TIM?" "I am not sure, John. Something is clearly bothering them, but when I confronted them about it, they were so afraid to tell me that..." TIM trailed off, unsure if he should continue. "Go on, TIM," Elizabeth said, concern in her eyes. "They lied to me. They told me that they'd had two girls pour milkshakes over their heads at the disco, but they were both wearing the same clothing that they had on earlier today, and it was perfectly clean." John frowned. "What on Earth has gotten into those two?" Elizabeth lifted Stephen's milkshake in confusion and sniffed it. "Since when did Stephen drink chocolate mint milkshakes?" "What?" John grabbed the glass from her hands and sniffed. "This is a bad sign. He only drinks these when he's upset." * * * The next morning Stephen was just finishing his breakfast when he heard, [Stephen, Tyso, come to the lab at once.] "Mum, I've got to go, there's an emergency on." Mrs. Jameson frowned. "All right, Stephen, but be careful." He kissed her on the cheek. "I will." * * * Stephen and Tyso jaunted into the lab. "What's going on?" Stephen took a seat on the edge of the raised platform surrounding the tables. Tyso sat down at a table. John pointed at the viewscreen. Stephen looked at the ship on the screen and took a wild guess. "Maybe it's the Kulthan and they've come back for their supper." "They'd get indigetion if you were on the menu," John teased. "The spaceship entered our solar system an hour ago. Its cruising speed is faster than light, but it has stopped in Earth orbit 100,000 miles out." "Well, where's it from, TIM?" Elizabeth asked. "I'm afraid that the vessel's information and registration on the Galactic Trig has no information on that particular type." "In other words, you don't know, TIM," Stephen was in a contrary mood. Elizabeth gave him a light thwack on the arm. "Yes, but the Federation can hardly be expected to have information on every spaceship in the galaxy. Those species that need to use spaceships don't belong to the Federation in any case." "Well, do you know what it wants?" "No, Tyso," TIM replied gently. "Do you think it's going to take over the world or what?" Tyso asked John. The question was partly a plea for reassurance-- Tyso had never encountered anything like this before-- and partly a test. If John cracked a joke, or made light of Tyso's concern, then it would confirm his hypothesis that John was becoming more callous towards them. If not, well, it was probably safe to trust him, at least for the duration of the mission. John passed with flying colors. "Well, we have no way of knowing," John replied gently, "but until we find out otherwise, we can assume its intentions are peaceful." John patted Tyso on the arm reassuringly. "Well they can hardly be expected to follow rules they don't know about, can they?" TIM reasoned. "What if one of us went up to take a closer look?" Liz asked. "That would be in order according to the Galactic Code." "Can I go? Please can I go?" Tyso begged. He was dying to get into space; sans spaceship. They'd brought an AE suit for him back from the Peeri mission, and he was dying to try it out. "Next time, Tyso. I think John and I had better take a look first." John and Elizabeth headed upstairs to change into their AE suits. Tyso hauled Stephen into the dark room where they could talk in private. "Well, what do you think?" Tyso inquired. "We don't need to worry about being sent into unnecessary danger for awhile. I'm almost ready to believe it was all a dream." "Our guilty consciences for staring at those girls, maybe?" Tyso joked. "A little too frightening-- I mean a conscience that sounds like John!" Tyso laughed. Then sobered, "It wouldn't explain their odd behavior, though, would it?" "Maybe they just don't like putting up with us all the time. Or maybe they're just plain stressed. I don't know: we'll have to wait and see." "Maybe they're just dating, and want to keep it a secret." * * * John and Liz talked over the barrier in the AE suit room. "Do you think it's working?" Liz worried. "They're more relaxed than when they first showed up, at least. Do you think we'll get what's wrong out of them?" "Maybe they'll tell us when this mess is sorted out. I wonder if we should have let Tyso come." "No, Liz, they're too distracted for much. I don't think it would've been safe." "Well whatever you do, don't go off on them, that's the worst thing you could do right now." "I won't!" John was defensive. "If I was going to do that sort of thing, I never would've let Stephen speak to TIM that way!" "Are you implying I did?" "No, Elizabeth, only that he'd have heard about it under... more ideal circumstances." End Part 3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: bookwyrm@sprynet.com Subject: TPFICT: archive update Date: 28 Mar 1998 20:17:32 -0800 (PST) The TPFICT archive has been updated with: Part 2 of 2 of "Lab Cat" by Dianne Elliott Part 3 of "Midseason's Dream" by Beth Epstein Parts 8 & Epilogue of "The Monolith" by Mike Matott Part 4 of "People Aren't What They Seem" by Twilight HTML versions of the two completed stories will be uploaded next week. ... Wendy bookwyrm@sprynet.com * http://www.xmission.com/~ladyslvr/ Listowner Tomorrow People Creative and Discussion Lists Asst. Listowner Sliders Creative & Discussion Lists at esosoft ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Beth Epstein Subject: TPFICT: A Midseason's Dream 04/07 Date: 31 Mar 1998 23:57:14 -0600 (CST) A Midseason's Dream An Original Series story by Beth Epstein Part 4 "What do you think we should do?" Tyso scuffed his shoes on the floor. "Try and make ourselves useful, I guess, and stay out of trouble. Maybe the responsibility's just getting to them." "Yeah, I bet that's it. Think they're still mad at us about the mud and Timus?" "Maybe. Let's just watch it, OK? It'll be fine as long as we don't panic or mess up for awhile." Tyso nodded. "Look, d'you..." Stephen interrupted him, "All personal feelings aside, Tyso, all four of us are still Tomorrow People, and right now, the Tomorrow People have a job to do. Just try to act natural." Tyso nodded, but he was still frightened. And when Liz disappeared while she and John were checking out the alien spaceship, his fears grew stronger. He and Stephen were close to accusing John of ditching her when he came back, but she telepathed that she was fine at just the right moment. Tyso wanted to join Liz up there, so he could do *something*; make himself useful, but Liz wouldn't allow it. Then they had to try and find the spaceman, Elmer, who was down on Earth. Unfortunately, TIM did most of the looking, leaving the three young men to sit and wait. [Have you found Elmer yet?] [No, Liz, we haven't even started looking. TIM still hasn't found out where he is yet,] John replied. [I wish you'd hurry. They've gotten their ideas of what the Earth is like by watching old cowboy movies on television.] [You're having me on!] Coupled with Liz's revelation, John's surprise set Tyso laughing. "No, I'm not. And Elmer's dressed like a cowboy with a *loaded pistol*." "Oh, boy." John was not thrilled. "TIM, have you any idea where he might be?" "I can answer that now, John, I have just intercepted a police radio call, Elmer has shot a grocer." "Can you jaunt Stephen there, TIM?" "Yes." "Stephen, go make sure everyone's OK- and take a stun gun. Tyso and I will stay here and help TIM calculate Elmer's next move." Tyso wasn't very thrilled with staying in the lab alone with John-- well, almost, TIM was still there, but he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. * * * It was hopeless, they had to contact Liz. She seemed to have picked up a slight American west accent-- one that John echoed. Tyso wondered if the two were more finely tuned to each other telepathically than they were to the others or if John was trying to be cute. When Stephen got back, the three took a miserable lunch of hamburgers-- standing up. Elmer surfaced again, this time at a Teddington Pub, forcing John and Tyso to abandon their burgers (and Stephen to quickly scarf all three). Unfortunately, they couldn't matter transport Elmer, so they couldn't get him away from the pub. He ended up in police custody. Elmer's companions, his mother and his sister, Emily, didn't take the news very well. They threatened the Earth, and must've made Elizabeth rather frightened, as was clear when she telepathed to them. [John!] Stephen and Tyso exchanged glances. Could that mean what they thought it did? There was no time for worrying about it then, they had to get Elmer out of jail. Two car chases, and some acting that Stephen described as "brilliant" on Elizabeth's part, and they managed to get Elmer to the doozslum pin (his matter transporter unit). Unfortunately, Stephen stepped on it and ended up in the spaceship, jaunting back in front of a line of police cars. Elmer got back to the ship safely, allowing Stephen and Liz to go back to the lab. John wanted someone to check on Elmer, just to be sure he was safe. "Well, count me out, I've had all I can of the Momma and Emily," Liz replied, and walked away. "That goes for me too!" Stephen exclaimed. "She'll probably start kicking me again, and boy can she kick!" Stephen joined Liz on the other side of the room. "Tyso," John tried, reaching. "Hey, Stephen!" Tyso took off after his friend, assuming that if Stephen felt it was safe to duck that duty, he could as well (after all, Liz had). Besides, he got the impression from Liz and Stephen that the Momma and Emily were bad news, and he didn't trust John's judgment in the matter. Not at all! * * * It was just as well. John came back raving mad. "They would've ate me alive! That Emily wanted me to be her man-boy." "Oh?" Liz said. "Husband, I suppose she means," John muttered. "Well, it's time you settled down, John," Stephen tried to fathom why John was so upset, leaning in close, his chin nearly on John's shoulder. "Not with those two!" Stephen's suspicions were confirmed. The telepathic thoughts he subconsciously gave off (they all did it when experiencing strong emotions) made it clear that John had someone else in mind. John continued, "They expect you to wait on them hand and foot!" "That sounds a bit like here, only the other way 'round," Elizabeth teased, leaning in closer. Stephen wondered just what she and John weren't telling him. Still he was trying to act like everything was normal, so he had to say, "Here we go, women's lib again," because he knew that Liz would be surprised, not to mention possibly worried, if he didn't. John pulled them apart physically (mostly because he was stuck in the middle). "All right, you two. What puzzles me is how they came to be on that ship in the first place." No one could come up with an answer. They all relaxed for a bit. "Let's let them calm down before we start in on what's bothering them," John whispered to Liz. Stephen caught them from across the room, and looked at them strangely. John smiled. If it was an attempt to reassure Stephen (as it probably was), then it failed miserably. He was sure John was talking about him. It was a bad sign. End Part 4