by Amelia L. Rodgers ©2001 all rights reserved
(this story is a sequel to part one and two, and makes clearer incidents that happened in Frozen, and other UFO stories I've written )
To Ed Straker. Enough said.
Not to be used without author's permission.
Dedicated to Ann Lammers
E mail author
Alec Freeman followed Yetunde into the small room. There was a conference table with matching chairs, a pitcher of water, drinking glasses, a chalkboard. Taking up most of one wall was a curtain. Alec took a seat. He made it clear an electric chair would have been more his preference. Yetunde sighed at him. His age had never been a problem for her, but today he wasn't carrying it well. It was a little more than two months after the incident with Edward. His guilt had aged him. Her inability to lighten his load had aged her. No one she knew had escaped without wounds from that horrible night.
"Are you ready, my love?" she asked him.
"I never will be, Yetunde. You know that."
Honest words. It was one of the things she loved about him. She knew it was one of the reasons Ed Straker had valued him for as well.
Yetunde pulled back the curtain to reveal a window. Through it, they saw an older man in a white lab coat talking to a patient in a wheelchair, carefully explaining a simple task to him, while jotting down some notes on a clipboard. The patient's expression was that of intense concentration. A table had been set up in front of him, with a pile of brightly colored plastic blocks.
"Now, what you have to do is look at the chart, the picture in front of you, and find the block that looks like it and cover the picture with it. Do you understand?"
"I understand." the man smiled. That enchanting demi-smile of his had not changed, Yetunde thought. And his platinum hair was starting to grow in a little thicker where they'd shaved it for the surgery. He almost looked like himself again. He even had gained some much needed weight.
"Begin." the older man said.
"I can't stand to see this, Yetunde." Alec said, watching the man in the wheelchair carefully and slowly do as he'd been told.
"Alec, he's regaining some memories. One memory at a time. His hand-eye coordination has improved to an incredible amount. He's regained control of his kidneys and bowels, eats and drinks by himself and is walking by himself for short distances. His speech is excellent. He's made so much progress."
"He's playing with plastic blocks. What's next? Colouring with crayons in books? Making paper chains? Playing ring-around-the-rosy, all fall down?"
"Stop it Alec!"
Alec suddenly pounded the table, making her jump.
"No! I won't stop. He'd be much better off dead. Allowing him to live with this much damage is betraying what he wanted, Yetunde. He didn't want this. That fine mind and that unconquerable spirit of his, that roguish wit he sometimes demonstrated, that extraordinary set of ethics. All gone. He's nothing more than a studio prop now. He should have been allowed to die with dignity. He'd hate this. Sometimes I dream at night and I hear him begging me for death. He walked in front of my car because he wanted to die, Yetunde. He chose death. Ed had the reflexes and speed of a cougar, he could easily have jumped out of the way. I was supposed to be his best friend, Yetunde. I sneezed when he had a cold. It's been that way since I found him rotting away by mistake in that Godforsaken hospital in Thailand, and if it had to end, then it had to end. You know I'm telling the truth. Ed didn't want extraordinary measures taken to preserve his life, if you can even call this a life."
"Ah ah ah! Damn you Alec Freeman! Then tell me, do you have a better idea? Or shall we just go in the next room and hold a gun muzzle up to his head and blow what remains of his brains out? Would that be better? I would rather see him alive. Look at him. He is alive! Alive!" Yetunde broke into tears, knowing Alec was right, and yet trying desperately to hold on to the fact that Ed still was with them.
"He's never been so dead. Not even when he was actually dead was he-" Alec said listlessly, and then he blinked. "Shit. Shit. Shit."
For the first time in many months, life came back into her lover's eyes.
"Alec, what is it?"
Alec rose to his feet, darted out the door, and Yetunde scurried to keep up with him, cursing him in several African dialects.
Still in the testing room, Ed Straker's face lit up with accomplishment as he finished placing the blocks on their spaces on the chart. He searched for approval on the face of the older man, but the older man just jotted down some notes. Ed sighed a little.
"Now, this next test-"
"No." Ed stated firmly.
"No?" the older man said, surprised.
"No. I'm going to my room. No more tests. Goodbye."
The older man watched Ed wheel himself out the door. He grinned in admiration.
"Now that was almost the old Commander we knew." he said aloud.
* * *
"Ryan, you have to be out of your mind." Claire Spencer decreed.
"Oh yeah, like I wasn't for coming to England, suffering culture shock, finding us an apartment, getting us set up to work here, and trying to figure out the stupid phone system?" Ryan punched a few keys on his laptop computer, and stared at the screen.
"Ryan, shut up and listen to me. You can not hack into a hospital's computer. I'm telling you, you're going to get us both arrested!"
"Look, we know this guy has to be in this Mayland Hospital, right? You found that article saying that guy donated a whole damn kid's ward to it, right? And we know he ain't working at his studio cause we overheard those prop guys saying he's been gone for months, right? And then the gal taking us on the studio tour said she was relieved he was sick because he hated people he didn't know marching through the studio, right? She said Straker hated the tours, right? But he put up with them cause the money went to charity, right?" Ryan punched some more keys and seemed satisfied with the result.
Claire sighed. She looked out the window at the Thames. It was like living inside a movie. England. She was actually in England. Somewhere in this country was Ed Straker. She knew he was alive. Something in her knew he was alive. She wondered what her mother Barbara would have said about going to a foreign country with a homosexual, to find a man she had only seen once and said about six words to. Her father would have laughed heartily and said he wished he could have an adventure like that. And her brother.. Claire sighed. Her brother would have loved it. At least both her father and her brother had died doing something they loved. Her brother Charles had been mountain climbing in Peru, contracted high altitude cerebral edema and had slipped, and fallen to his death. Her father Adam had just accepted an award for Surgeon of The Year, and had collapsed at the lectern with a fatal infarct. She would never forget the way he looked at her, so lovingly, so proud. Her mother had never loved her. She had always been nothing but a disappointment to Barbara Spencer. Too shy. Too fat. Too klutzy. Too strange. Too everything. But her father was a different story. She never would have become an intern at fifty years of age if it hadn't been for him. They weren't about to deny a woman with Spencer blood. How could they? Two damn clinics and the new cardiac care unit were named after her Dad. Intern at fifty years of age, Claire thought with amusement. It was unheard of. His prestige within the hospital system had been her key to her career. She had been unable to deny her father and brother anything, and she knew that if they had lived to see it, they would have been proud. So she had dutifully entered medicine after they died. It had been worth it to see the shock on her mother's face when she had finished medical school and placed among the top ten in her class, and excelled so much, she had even surprised herself. And then she had gone on to pass her state board exams with flying colors, and earned the M.D. after her name. That's my girl Claire Bear, her father would have said. Competing with me for the old man's affection, air head? That was the way her brother would have joked, proud of her. Both gone. Her mother had stopped sending her money, cut her off completely when she'd unexpectedly come over to see who her daughter she lived with, and had seen Ryan and Tom kissing. Claire grinned to herself. Served her right for not calling first. Her mother could have the Spencer fortune. She didn't care. Besides, she still had the best part of Tom's gift to her and Ryan. They could live on that easily.
"I know. I wonder how long they keep people in jail for computer crimes here?" Claire said.
Ryan grinned at her.
"I don't plan to find out. Come look at this."
Claire crossed the living room of their small apartment and sat beside Ryan on the couch. She glanced at the screen. It said Mayland Hospital Please Enter Password.
"Oh pins and needles! You did it, Ryan!"
"Not so fast. I still have to run a program to get into the system. It will go through zillions of letters and numbers until it starts to get hits. Then I try them, and pray that I get a password fast. I don't want anyone to come looking for me electronically. Here we go. Get me another cup of coffee, would you? Thanks."
* * *
"Are you out of your mind? Alec, no! You cannot do this!"
Alec glared at Yetunde.
"You're forgetting who head of Shado is. Me. I make the decisions now." Alec's icy tone was almost like Ed's, she thought. However, she was not through yet.
"Damn you, Alec! You do not know what the remaining bacteria of alien origin will do to him." Yetunde knew Alec was referring to the alien bacteria Ed had been exposed to when a UFO he was investigating had exploded. Incredibly, it had started to reverse his age, but the side effects were deadly. Miraculously, at the point of death, the bacteria in his system had died with him, and he'd come back to life, returning to his own true age but stronger and healthier.
"Yes I do. It'll give him a chance. A chance to be what he was. A chance to be Ed Straker. The damn stuff is alive, right? The lab boffins took the samples of Ed's blood and extracted the alien bacteria, injected it in animals, right? They were experimenting on finding some way to kill it other than killing the host. The damn stuff is crawling around in the petri dishes in a sealed vault, it would be easy enough to inject Ed with some."
"You may have the authority to make that decision, but only Ed can make the final choice." Yetunde said firmly.
"What the hell do you mean? Right now he can't even decide what colour shirt to wear!" Alec reminded her in exasperation.
"We tell him. We start to tell him who he is, who his friends are, who you are. We let him make the choice. We tell him about Shado. We tell him what happened when the bacteria affected him before. We tell him that he will be injected with an alien substance which definitely will kill him, and we don't know if he will come out alive after the bacteria dies. He may or may not be cured. We have no way of knowing if the bacteria will cure a brain injury. We tell him, my love. He deserves that."
Alec stared into the distance. He sighed, and then he looked back at her.
"Yetunde, I haven't seen him in person at all since he came out of the coma. I don't even know if he'll recognise me. Suppose I'm just a stranger to him? A stranger telling a bizarre story about aliens and UFO's and reversal of aging, and dying, and coming to life again. What will that do to him?"
"We have to try, Alec. As much as I hate it, I know you are right, I know he would want to try." She burst into tears, and Alec pulled her close, and kissed her.
"When all this is over with, and Ed is well, you and I are going to that continent of yours, and I am kissing bachelourhood goodbye."
"You have been telling me that for years, Alec." Yetunde smiled a little. "I see no diamond on my finger."
"This time I mean it. And Ed will serve as my best man. And I'll make him drink champagne until he falls down on his skinny arse and I have to carry him back to the hotel. Now, when do we start, and where do we start?" smiled Alec, with a confidence he didn't feel.
"He knows me, I will bring photographs in. I will see if he responds to any of them. I will show him yours."
"God no, my ugly face is enough to kill him on the spot," joked Alec. She grinned at him.
"Jackson has been in to see him. If Jackson's face did not kill him, yours is safe, my love." Yetunde chuckled.
Alec laughed, and she smiled at him. Suddenly the smile faded.
"Alec, do I show him Margaret's photo? His son's? Angel's?"
Alec scowled.
"If we're going to do this thing right, get him to a point where he can make the decision, we can't cut corners. We have to. We'll just go slow."
"Alec, ah ah ah! I am frightened, I am truly frightened."
Alec looked grim.
"Not as frightened as I am, Yetunde."
* * *
"Whoooo hooooo!" Ryan yelled.
Claire had been in the kitchenette area of the apartment, cutting some tomatoes for a salad. At Ryan's yell, she jumped and dropped the knife and the tomato she'd been cutting. Not bothering to clean up, she ran into the living room where Ryan was curled up on the floor, bent over the laptop.
"Ryan, you scared me half to death. You've been working on that thing since noon and its nearly dinnertime now. What in the-"
"Will you shut up and look, you dipstick?" Ryan showed her the screen and she gasped. The screen read :
Patient name : Edward Straker
Assigned V ward , Unit S
Sex: male
Age: 53
Height: 5'11
Weight: 11 stone
Hair: Silver
Eyes: Blue
Physicians assigned to case:
Dr. Yetunde Folsade, general medicine, cardiology
Dr. Eugene Terro, internal medicine
Dr. Kay Massey neurosurgery
Dr. Carmella Diaz orthopedic surgery
Dr. Maurice Theberge, internal medicine
Dr. David Shroeder, general medicine
Dr. Rose Meli psychology
Dr. Douglas Jackson, psychiatry
Dr. Omato Matsei, TBI rehabilitation specialist
Dr. Tatiana Laurence art therapist
Ryan continued to scroll down, with Claire looking on, reading.
"Holy Moly, this guy practically has every doctor in the whole hospital assigned to him!" Ryan declared. Claire ignored him, still reading, and she winced when she came to the part that described his injuries and treatment.
"Oh Ryan. Blunt trauma. Traumatic brain injury, how terrible, cerebral hematoma, two inch long and one inch deep gash in scalp, hypovolemic shock, repeated cessation of heart activity, eight on the glascow coma scale, my God, my God, dislocation of hip, massive soft tissue-oh I can't read any more of this, scroll to the last notation on the chart."
Ryan did and she relaxed a little.
"He's finally level six on the Rancho Los Amigos Scale, good, good, but he's suffered so much memory loss," Claire sighed.
"Rancho Los what? Is that a Mexican meal?" Ryan asked her.
Claire gave him a sharp rap on the head.
"OW!" he complained. "Hey, how am I supposed to know what all that means? Besides, I'm starving."
"You geek. It's a means to measure functioning after a brain injury. You did good work, Ryan. Do you think they noticed that someone went into the files?" she asked nervously. Ryan shook his head at her with a grin.
"Nah. Come on, forget making dinner, let's go find a restaurant. And then we launch our little operation Find Straker."
"You've watched too many James Bond movies, Ryan." Claire bent and kissed him on the cheek, then went to get her purse and sweater.
* * *
In the bowels of Shado headquarters, Lieutenant Keith Ford was playing poker against his computer opponent, idly waiting for his shift to be over. It was nearly seven pm, and the recent UFO inactivity was getting to everybody in the organisation. People were depressed. Even Space Intruder Detector sounded glum, or that might be just the imagination of a nervous Lieutenant. Rumours about Commander Straker's condition had spread like poison ivy in a nudist colony, and Ford had heard all of them. Not a one sounded promising. Colonel Freeman and Dr. Folsade had nixed the idea of any operative visiting the Commander, which made him even more nervous. He sighed. He hated to admit it, but he missed Straker, and was worried about him. His station phone beeped, and he picked it up. He spoke for a few minutes, hung up and closed his poker session (which he'd been losing anyway) and brought up the Mayland security screen. Hmmm. Unauthorised use of Straker's patient file, opened without the green code. Ford started punching in long series of letters and numbers, and after some work, brought up a new screen. It displayed Paradise Internet as a ISP for one Ryan McKay and Claire Spencer, and gave their address and telephone number. Ford frowned. He dialed Alec Freeman's mobile phone, and ran a G6 on both parties as he waited for an answer.
* * *
Ed Straker looked mournfully up at Dr. Tatiana Laurence.
"I don't like painting, Doctor."
"Edward, you are not even trying." the woman replied, trying to hide her amusement. ?Try putting some colours on the brush and doing the brush strokes I was showing you."
"I don't want to.? Ed announced.
"Now, you don't want me to have to tell Dr. Folsade that you are not cooperating, do you?"
Ed brightened.
"I like Dr. Folsade! She comes from a small township called-called-" Ed's mouth pulled into a straight line, and he muttered to himself. He pulled some white index cards out of his pocket, and searched through them for what he wanted.
"Umuahia?" she supplied. He beamed, and put his cards away.
"Yes!"
"I have to make rounds now, Edward. Yetunde will be here soon to spend some time with you. I want to see two canvases with various colours and brushstrokes on them when I come back on Monday. Understand?"
Ed looked at her. Why was everyone always asking him if he could understand? People telling him to do this and do that and not to touch this and not to touch that. People looking at his head and giving him shots and taking his blood, and making him hurt when they did that thing called rehabilitation. He did not like it. The only peace he got was at night, and even then he had strange dreams, and that strange doctor that made him uncomfortable always made him talk about them. When were they going to let him go home? Where was his home? Did he have a home? It was not on his index cards.
"I am not stupid, Dr. Laurence," he said, frustrated.
"I know, Edward." She patted his shoulder, and smiled, and left. He stared at the blank canvas. He picked up a sable brush and dipped it in the blue paint with a slightly shaking hand. A little dropped on the carpet.
"Damn!" Ed said. Then he looked around guiltily, afraid someone would come in and tell him that wasn't permitted. His friend Nathaniel had taught him swear words, telling him swear words helped when things weren't going right. He liked Nathaniel. Then he stared at the blob on the canvas, and shook the brush a little. More drops fell. He shook it harder. He smiled, and flicked a finger against the brush handle, so that paint fell in an arc on the carpet. He chuckled. He did it again, turning his head to see what the result looked like to his imagination.
"Bluebird." Ed decided aloud, satisfied. Slowly he arouse from his chair, carefully took the canvas, locked his wheelchair, used it to steady himself, crouched and pressed it over the stains on the carpet, then lifted up and inspected the finished product.
Nate Zouri was laughing in the monitoring room, as Yetunde came in.
"Yetunde! Come look at this." He pointed at the video camera that was constantly recording and displaying everything Ed did. Ed was proceeding to start the procedure on the second painting.
"Ah ah ah! He is making a mess!" she chuckled.
"He's been rebelling more and more, like the doctors expected him to. It's great."
"It is! I wish that Alec could see he has breakthrough moments like these, but Alec refuses to get involved in the process. And now he has ordered me to do something very hard, Nathaniel."
As she began to fill in an increasingly shocked Nathaniel, Alec Freeman marched into Shado HQ and up to Keith Ford's station like it was a MIG he intended to shoot down.
"Damn it, Ford! Hurry up with that G6! Is Kessler still following this McKay guy? What did you say the woman's name was?"
"Claire Spencer." Keith said, lifting one of his earphones slightly and wincing at Alec's tone.
"That name rings a bell. Wait, of course, that intern that was so wrapped up in Ed. Christ, that's all he needs now, some kook that's followed him all the way to-"
"Sir, Kessler reports the car McKay hired has stopped in the Mayland parking lot, and they both got out, headed for the back of the building, he's following them on foot now." Ford interrupted.
"Jesus! Get me Zouri! NOW! And tell Kessler not to let them out of his sight or I'll kick his unworthy arse back to Germany. Then get me Dr. Folsade! And I want those G-6's completed, Ford. You have ten minutes. I'll be in Ed's office."
"Yes Commander," Ford said. Alec had been headed away, but now he turned and yelled at Ford.
"All right Ford. If you, or anyone else in this organisation ever calls me Commander again, I'll knock their teeth out with a shovel. There is one man who is Commander of Shado, and you all know who he is. Now get me what I need, Ford!"
"Sir." Ford responded, and started to move into action.
Alec disappeared into Ed's office.
"He's got to be the only person in here that doesn't know the great white chief isn't ever going to make it back from Mayland. I heard Straker isn't even potty trained yet,? one of the newer operatives, Lieutenant Grey, cracked from his station. Ford's jaw dropped open in the middle of trying to do three things at once, Ayshea glared, and several other personnel that were loyal to Straker gave Grey looks like he was a leper, and wondered why he didn't have a sign hung around his neck declaring him unclean. Grey chuckled. ?Come on, lighten up, will you, people?" Grey was suddenly aware of someone slowly approaching him from the side. He started to look up, and two very long, very sharp fingernails plowed straight into the back of his hand with the impact of a 38 caliber bullet fired at close range. He yelled like someone had set him on fire. He was about to complain when he realised the fingernails had belonged to Lieutenant Gay Ellis, who was on furlough from Moonbase duty, while Virginia filled in for her. ?Lieutenant Ellis-? he stammered.
"Colonel Ellis." Gay said, her voice like ice. Ayshea thought to herself that only Straker himself had a tone frostier than Ellis did, and with good reason. Making a sick joke about Straker aloud so that everyone could hear it was Grey's first mistake. Expecting people to think it was funny was his second. Doing it as newly promoted Colonel Gay Ellis was coming into Control was his third. "I believe I outrank you. I suggest you never say anything even remotely like that about Commander Straker, not even in your sleep. Or I might just be recommending you for an amnesia shot, Lieutenant Grey. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir. Ma'am. I mean, yes Ma'am."
Gay Ellis studied his hand, which had some fairly impressive gashes in it, and was dripping blood onto his clipboard.
"Go to medical centre." She didn't say and get out of my sight. She didn't have to. Grey got up and ran put of there like a dog being pursued by a flea who hadn't eaten for a month. Gay turned so that only Ayshea could see her clearly, and she winked as she went inside Ed's office. Ayshea grinned, and then looked at poor Keith Ford, who looked like he needed a furlough for life. He was desperately running the G-6, listening to the Shado security man who was tailing Spencer and McKay on one earphone, and had the station phone stuck to his other ear, talking to Nate Zouri.
Who needed Ed Straker to torture him when Alec Freeman was on the warpath? Ford thought. If this kept up any longer, he'd inject himself with the amnesia drug, Ford thought in sheer misery. Then he blinked, when the connection with Kessler suddenly screeched and popped out. Ohhhhhh, he thought. I should have listened to Mum and become a sales assistant at Harrods. Kessler's signal is gone and I have to tell Freeman. Kill me now. Reluctantly he got up, grabbed the completed G-6 tapes, and headed to the gullotine stairs to be beheaded by an Australian bear.
SID suddenly crackled into action and announced it had a UFO on positive track. Ayshea turned back to her station. Playtime over, she thought. Back to business.
* * *
Ryan McKay gawked at Claire Spencer. She stood there, shaking, turning white. At her feet lie a man. The same man that Ryan had nervously pointed out was following them, first in the rented car, and then on foot. Now he lie, out cold, in the rear Mayland parking lot. And the woman he had believed to be a mouse had suddenly not only roared, but was probably going to eat her prey right in front of him. Bruce Lee had nothing on her. She'd raised her skirt so that the stranger could see her panties, he'd stared, bewildered, and then she'd hit him.
"You hit him!" Ryan accused.
"Ryan, I think I'm going to faint.." she blurted, shakily.
"You aren't fainting on me, Claire Spencer. Don't play helpless female with me now. All my expectations of you just blew out the window. You hit him!" Ryan exclaimed, not knowing whether to be glad or appalled.
"Cha-Cha-Charles showed me how to take care of myself. Kar-kar-karate. It's easy, when you know where to hi-hi- hit." Claire stammered. Something on the blissfully unconscious and possibly soon to be unemployed Kessler buzzed, and both Ryan and Claire jumped, startled at the sound. It turned out to be some sort of cell phone Ryan had never seen before. He took that, and the man's wallet and some sort of badge, and stuck them in his jeans. Then he frisked the sleeping beauty, none too expertly, and found the man's holster, and unstrapped it from Kessler's hip. Slowly he withdrew something from it. He whistled appreciatively, like a young boy with a new toy electric train set.
"Oh pins and needles! That's a gun! A GUN, Ryan!" Claire sagged against the brick wall, still shaking.
"I know what a gun is, Claire." Ryan didn't sound that steady himself. But he did indeed know what a gun was. He however did not know how to eject the things called bullets. So he carefully slipped the gun back into the holster, strapped it on his own hip and ignored Claire's lemur impression. Ryan finally dragged Kessler to their parked car, opened it, threw him in, cranked the window down enough so he'd get air and then locked the car.
"Ryan, they're going to lock us both up. They found out what we-what's that whining noise?"
"Security camera!" Ryan yelled and half pulled, half dragged Claire out of the line of sight of the camera.
* * *
Yetunde came into Ed's room. At first he didn't notice. He was in his wheelchair, looking out the window at the night sky, in silent contemplation. On the tray next to him was his dinner, untouched. He hadn't even bothered to take the cover of the dish off to see what it was. Great Yemonja, he looked so desolate. How could she now begin to force him to see and feel and touch and remember things that he might not be ready for yet, might never be ready for again? Ah ah ah! How could she, Yetunde, do this? There was no turning back now.
"Hello Edward."
He turned the wheelchair around, looking eager.
"Yetunde! I mean, I can call you Yetunde, can't I? I like that better than Dr. Folsade. You're my friend, aren't you?"
"You always say my name so prettily. Of course you may call me that. I told you that you could. And yes, we are friends."
"I forgot. I forget so much. It bothers me. Are you going to spend some time with me?" he inquired hopefully.
Before she could respond, Nate Zouri came running in, out of breath.
"Security breach. Two people. Man and woman. Right here on the grounds. We confirmed the target is Straker." he said.
Ed looked puzzled. He had never seen that look on his friend Nathaniel's face. Almost primitive. Primitive? Such an odd word. Why was his heart pounding so much? Why had Nate called him a target? Suddenly he wanted to hide under his bed.
"Go find them, Nathaniel. I'll stay with Edward."
"You carrying? I have a spare." Nate reached for his armpit but Yetunde shook her head, lifted her pleated skirt and took a knife the size of a building out of a sheath to show Nate, then replaced it. Ed stared at her.
"I'm carrying."
"Right." and Nate headed back for the door.
"Nathaniel." Ed said in a way that felt unfamilar, and Nate stopped and turned around.
"Sir." he responded, automatically waiting for orders. Ed looked baffled, mouth opening to form words that at first didn't come. His mind raced. Sir? He called me Sir. What's happening? My God, what is happening?
"I am not carrying, I have nothing to protect myself with." Ed blurted out, not completely understanding what he was saying or why he was saying it. How extraordinary. Nathaniel looked shocked, and Yetunde looked deep in thought, gestured for him to go. Nate went out, feeling like a piece of playdough stretched in ten directions at once.
"You shouldn't have done that." Ed said, baffled as to why he was angry and why he was even saying that to her. He could feel his heart banging wildly against his chest, like a doomed prisoner trying to get out of the gas chamber as the cyanide pellet is dropped. Yetunde didn't answer, she simply went to a framed watercolour painting of Monet's irises on the wall, and swung it outward to reveal a wall vault. She placed her hand flat against the glass panel and hit some numbers in a sequence. There was a hiss, and the vault panel slid up. Yetunde took something out of it and then closed and relocked it. She swung the painting back in place. She brought three objects over to him and put them in his lap. One he recognised as a holster. The other was a gun. The third was a clip. Ed was visibly shaking now.
"It's my gun, isn't it? Yetunde, I'm afraid!"
Yetunde Folsade steeled herself to the fear and panic in his voice.
"Edward, two people are coming here. They are coming for you. You have to protect yourself. Somehow, our security failed to stop them, and now they are in the building. Load your automatic, and put on the holster. I don't know what we are up against, and I need you 100%, Edward. Do you understand ?"
"Damn damn DAMN! Why does everybody ask me that? Do they think something is wrong with me? Do they think I am an idiot? That I have something wrong with my brai-? Ed went white. ?My head. Injury. Pain, pain, pain. Car. Car. Oh God. God help me! CAR!"
Ed Straker threw himself out of the wheelchair, ultimately dodging a speeding automobile that no longer was there, and the holster and gun and clip went flying. Yetunde screamed, and started toward him. At that moment, the door opened slightly. Ed jumped to a crouch, winced in pain of doing so with a still uncompletely healed hip, grabbed the gun and clip, loaded it in a matter of seconds without even blinking and pointed it straight at the door.
Ryan McKay came all the way in, and stopped when he saw the gun.
"FREEZE!" Ed yelled.
Claire came tentatively up behind him and stepped inside, and gasped at Ed. Yetunde pulled the knife on her and Claire screamed. The door swung shut behind them.
"HANDS IN THE AIR! BOTH OF YOU! NOW!" Ed demanded. They complied. "ON YOUR KNEES ! NOW!" Not surprisingly, they again complied. And then all hell broke loose in the form of a desperate Australian, who chose that moment to enter, followed by Nate. Ed whipped the gun over and aimed it directly at Alec's heart. Alec saw every pub he'd ever gotten drunk in pass in front of his eyes. He closed them, awaiting the coup de grace. Yetunde saw what Ed was about to do and she jumped in front of Alec. Alec felt her against him, and opened his eyes part way.
"EDWARD NO!" she yelled. Ed acknowledged her with a curt nod, shifted the gun back to Ryan and Claire, like a heat seeking missile ferreting out its target. Alec gave a great sigh of relief and opened his eyes all the way.
"Nate. Handle them." Ed said quietly.
"Leave it to me, Sir."
Nate had his own gun out and he took over, herding Ryan and Claire up and out. Claire hesitated one moment, studying Ed's face. He seemed oblivious to her. She then obediently followed Ryan. Yetunde sighed, kissed an Alec she had nearly lost hard on the mouth, and then left.
"You can lower the gun now, Ed." Alec said with a broad, astonished grin.
"I've never touched a gun in my life." Ed said softly, looking at it like he expected it to sting him. He lowered it and put it in the holster after putting the safety on.
"After just nearly drilling me through my heart, you expect me to believe that?" Alec went over and held out a hand to Ed. Ed looked at him, put the holster on the bed, and cautiously accepted it. He grimaced greatly as Alec helped him into the wheelchair. He was shaking again. "Pain bad? Better have the doctor look at it. You may have reinjured it." Alec took the holster off the bed and placed it in Ed's nightstand.
"No more tests. No more doctors." Ed rubbed his hip for a moment, then looked plaintively at Alec. "I know you, don't I?"
"Yes. That's right. Why don't you get into bed? No, let me, you've had enough exercise for the day." Alec lifted Ed out of the wheelchair with ease, and Ed looked at him with some irritation, but did not say a word. He lowered Ed into the bed, took off his shoes, socks and robe, and pulled the comforter over Ed. "You hate it when I do this."
Ed lie back on the pillow, watching Alec.
"Do what?"
"Help you. You're a damn bloody minded American."
"This is England." Ed said, as if that was the answer to all the questions of the world. Alec grinned at him and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Right you are again. Do you remember me at all, Ed?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. How did I do that? I don't know about guns."
"Ed, you're a marksman. The gun or rifle that you can't operate doesn't exist."
"You!"
"Hmmm?"
"It was you in the car. I remember the car. The car was familiar. I have a car like it. I tried to get out of the way. But you hit me."
"Ed, you didn't make any effort to get out of the way. You could have. But you didn't." Alec said softly. "You wanted to die."
"That's nonsense." Ed insisted.
"We'll talk about this in the morning." Alec smiled. His smile melted away like ice at Ed's expression. Ed's eyes were bright with tears. "Ed, what is it?"
"I'm hurt bad, aren't I? My head. They shaved my hair. Brain injury. I'm never going to get better."
"Now you look, Ed Straker. You're going to be just fine."
"You don't lie well." Ed retorted simply. Alec chuckled.
"This is like the old days. I missed you, Ed."
"No. No, you didn't. You didn't come to see me." Ed reached in his pocket for the index cards he depended on and looked through them for Alec's name and information. "See? Your name isn't here. You didn't come." Ed said, sadly.
"I couldn't stand to see you any less than the man I remembered, and that you still are, Ed. I couldn't stand what I did to you. But I was there. I was there for at least a few minutes every day from the day you were injured, to the day you came out of the coma."
"I know you." Ed said sleepily. Alec grinned. He softly patted Ed's hand. Ed smiled a little, comforted, and his fingers firmly closed around Alec's, then his lashes fluttered a moment or two, and finally Ed closed his eyes. Alec waited until Ed's grip loosened, got up from the bed, pulled the cot out from underneath it, and lie on it. He looked toward Ed, who had begun to snore lightly. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. Then he remembered the video camera, and Jackson's disregard for anyone's privacy, made an obscene gesture toward it, and closed his eyes and soon followed Ed into sleep.
* * *
"Kessler, give me a good reason for not pulling your liver out through your arse." Alec said sternly, flipping through the security report.
"Sir, I accept full responsibility for letting them get past me and into hospital. I'm ready to accept any disciplinary proceeding you deem necessary." Eric Kessler said, at brace.
"At ease." Alec said. Alec admired young Kessler, and found it hard to be angry at him, when the man clearly worshiped Ed and Shado itself. He considered Kessler his friend.
Kessler sighed, relaxed a little.
"Look, Alec-"
"Eric, one of the rules in this business is you never let your guard down. I don't care how innocent they looked, even a baby is to be considered a threat unless proved otherwise. Do you understand?"
"It was a foolish mistake, Alec. Is Commander Straker all right?"
"He's okay. We have them under custody. He's safe."
"If something had happened to Straker I would never have forgiven myself. If it hadn't been for his recommendation, I would never have gotten into this organisation."
"Get out of here before I change my mind and cut off your balls with a letter opener, Eric. Dismissed."
"Alec, if Straker had been injured because of my dereliction to duty, I would have cut off my balls for you." Eric Kessler's mind went momentarily flying back to the day he'd met Ed Straker, to the moment when Straker had offered him a job.
* * *
"Commander, you had better know right now that I'm a homosexual."
"And?" Straker had said impatiently.
"And, you run Shado on military lines, and I would have trouble fitting in."
"Kessler, you had better know this. I don't recruit men and women on the basis of who they go to bed with, or what God they worship, or what pigment is in their skin, or what sex or age they are, or if they are handicapped or not handicapped, but on their own merit and dedication to duty. The aliens don't discriminate, and neither will I. Your military record is excellent, and you want a chance to help fight the enemy, and that's all that matters. So if you want the job, its yours."
Eric smiled, his regard for Straker had started that day, and it had done nothing but grow over the years. He looked at Alec.
"Get out of here, Kraut." Alec grinned. Kessler smiled at the good-natured less than politically correct slur on his nationality. He admired Freeman.
"Yes, Sir!" Kessler said.
"Eric? Were Spencer's legs that good?" Alec teased. Kessler's report had indicated that Claire had pulled her skirt up, taking him entirely by surprise, before she used karate to dispatch him.
"No Sir. But McKay's were." Kessler went out of the room. Alec guffawed, remembering that Kessler was one of the first homosexuals to be admitted into Shado, straight out of the German Army. His parents and sister had been killed and mutilated by the aliens in a Munich UFO attack and Straker had offered him the opportunity to strike back.
Alec sighed. They had come close to losing the treasure that was a man named Ed Straker. Alec glanced at his watch and hurried out of Ed's office to Mayland hospital.
* * *
A couple of days later, Ryan and Claire sat nervously in their chairs in the small windowless room somewhere in Mayland Hospital. Yetunde Folsade stood there on guard, in Shado garb, with a shoulder holster clearly visible. Across from them, seated in a chair with a walking cane in his lap, sat a stern looking Ed Straker. He'd been quietly reading the G 6 reports, the psychological profiles, the financial and employment reports, personal biographies and other items that were in the report. He 'd been silent for several minutes. Everything that Alec and Yotunde had told him over the course of the week was spinning around and around and around in his head. You do this, he told himself. You did this a lot. You can do this. Alec and Yetunde showed you and coached you. You can pull this off, even thought you're so frightened you might wet yourself any minute now. Where were the damn index cards? God, he needed the damn index cards! One part of him wanted to run screaming to the relative safety of his hospital suite (God, he had his own suite in that hospital! It was incredible. If that wasn't enough, Alec had told him he owned the damn place! It was too much to take in. Too much. Too much.) and one part of him felt as comfortable as if he'd been sitting in a jacuzzi with a glass of iced tea in his hand. He was depending on that part. He was trying to ignore the part that was struggling with what else Alec had told him. ALIENS! Space aliens for crying out loud! And he, HE, Ed Straker, was head of this organisation called Shado, which secretly was fighting them. God he wanted so badly to think of Alec Freeman as nothing short of a loon. He couldn't. He couldn't. He knew Alec. He knew him. When Alec had come into the room, so much had come flying at him, like he was being tackled on a rugby field. And yet he felt so safe. Like a bolt clicking in place. And yet this man had hit him with a car! And had claimed he had deliberately not moved to get out of the way. Worse, he had said there was much more, much more that Ed needed to remember and deal with. Hard things. Really hard things. Christ! How much more of this nightmare could he stand? How badly was his brain impaired? God, he wanted to scream and scream and not ever stop. Instead, he made his voice hard, the way he had practiced to.
"You both understand that you are up on serious charges. Nosing into my personal life, pulling up information that was none of your business. Computer hacking into several data banks, including that of a private hospital. Looking at confidential patient records. Assault on a hospital security operative. Theft of his pistol, badge, cell phone, security pass. Breaking an expensive security camera, so that you wouldn't be detected. Sneaking into the hospital into an area you weren't supposed to be in. Somehow managing to get past one of my most highly trained bodyguards. What was it you hoped to achieve by all this?"
"Look. Straker, we never intended to hurt you. Claire had met you, and she was worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay. We don't care about whatever it is you're doing and whoever it is you really are."
"I'm the head of Harlington-Straker Studios." Ed said, desperately wishing that was all he was.
"Yeah, right and I'm Elvis Presley." Ryan said, sneering.
"Ryan, for God's sake!" Claire said.
"No way, Claire, I've been shut up for days, interrogated by some European sounding jerk, questioned by half a dozen people, accused of everything you can think of, not allowed to call for a lawyer, not allowed to leave my room, not allowed to see Claire until today, forced to eat crap that tasted like it had been in an garbage dump. If I'm being charged with something, then I have rights. This is inhumane. We're prisoners here. This is against the Geneva convention. I want out of here, Straker! And I want Claire with me!"
"We don't acknowledge the Geneva convention in here, Mr. McKay." Ed lied casually.
"For the love of God, what are you going to do with us?" Claire asked, frustrated.
"Well, let's see. You already know a hell of a lot more than you are supposed to. And you have some pretty interesting talents. You hacked into some class eight and class nine supposedly secure sites with very little trouble at all, Mr. McKay. On the other hand, Dr. Spencer, you quite capably managed to knock out one of my most capable hospital security guards. Letting you two just walk out the door wouldn't be the wisest decision I'd ever make."
"You have to let us go,? Ryan said. ?We won't say anything to anybody."
"I am not inclined to believe you, Mr. McKay. My organization, which you came pretty close to penetrating, is run on strictly military lines. I don't have to let you go. As a matter of fact, killing you both seems to be one of my alternatives."
Ryan went absolutely white.
"You won't do that." Claire said firmly. Ryan shot her a look.
"And what makes you say that, Dr. Spencer?" Ed said quietly.
"You already know all there is to know about us, and you know everything we did, but we haven't been hurt, and if you had planned to kill us you would have done it a long time ago. But you didn't. You've been testing us. I don't know why yet. But I know you won't hurt us. We accidentally threatened the security of something very important. Multi-national, too. The people that have been talking to us have been from all over the world. And Alec works for you, and likes you, and well, I feel like I know you, Ed, you wouldn't kill us unless you had no choice. So there must be something else, something you haven't said."
"And what might that be?" Ed said. For the first time he allowed himself a flicker of a smile. He liked her. He could not remember meeting her all that well, but he liked her, and he wasn't entirely sure why.
"Uh..maybe. . ." Ryan started to say.
"Yes, Mr. McKay?"
"Maybe we could work for you? I mean, we both resigned from our jobs, and Claire could work right in the hospital, start her residency, and I could, well, I could learn stuff, keep the hospital from being hacked by-"
"A cyber crook like you?" Yetunde interjected. Ed chuckled softly. Ryan blushed.
"Uh, yeah. Look, Claire is all I have now, and I'm all she has, so I was just trying to help her, and I guess neither of us were really thinking about what was happening."
Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Yes, I can understand that. And yes, I'm offering you jobs. It won't be easy for either of you. It will take a long time and lots of hard work. However, it will be the most important thing you ever do in your entire lives."
"How often have you been having the headaches, Edward?" Claire asked.
"Every so often-uh, what business is that of yours?" Ed said. Yetunde couldn't help it, she grinned. Once a doctor, always a doctor.
"Can I examine you?" Claire said. Ed blinked at her. She turned to Yetunde. "Can I examine him? I know who you are. After the shock of you pulling a knife on me, I remembered where I had seen you. At a cardiologist convention. My Dad was a cardiologist. I remembered you lecturing on open heart surgery. You're Dr. Yetunde Folsade. It's a great honor to meet you."
"I knew your father. And yes, I think you are relatively harmless. You may examine Edward."
"Now wait just a moment here," Ed protested, but Yetunde grinned. She had seen the way Claire watched Ed. She had remembered that own intent watching in herself when as a young woman, she had seen Ed Straker for the first time. And there was something about this woman, something she couldn't put her finger on. Then it hit her. Great Yemonja! When she had studied the bones. The sign of the undoing, the unweaving and destruction of threads, the darkness that had come over Edward. And the female warrior, the one that would vanquish the darkness. Could this woman be who would finally begin to heal the terrible wounds Edward carried?
"McKay. How does a cheeseburger and fries sound? Normally I would object to the excessive fat and cholestrol but I think you've earned it." Yetunde said. Claire laughed. Ed grinned.
"I'll buy!" Ryan said enthusiastically.
"Come on. Let's give Edward and Dr. Spencer a moment alone."
"Yetunde, wait!" Ed said, but she and Ryan were gone. Ed looked a little unsettled. Claire got up out of her chair and massaged his head and neck.
"What the blazes are you doing?" Ed jumped, a little alarmed.
"Hush now, Edward, I'm just massaging your head and I wanted a look at where they did the surgery, oh, Ed, it's healing wonderfully, and for once someone had the decency to remember not to go crazy with the shaver. Damned idiots always forget that people have lives to lead after a surgery, that they have to go back into society, and how vital a good self image is to a brain injury patient. Once your hair grows completely back, it will hide the scar completely. Still have the headache? God, I'd like to look at your brain scans. I wonder if they'd let me? I looked at your chart and saw the progress you've made, you're doing amazingly well."
"Amazingly well? I carry around cue cards, Dr. Spencer! Damn index cards to remember what to do and who to talk to and who not to talk to. Without them, I'd be a vegetable." Ed admitted bitterly. ?Alec and Yetunde sat with me for hours and told me things, and I thought the whole world had gone insane. I'm never going to be anything more than crippled. Unless I-? and he went silent. She stopped and looked at him.
"Ed, you can tell me. Please consider me your friend. I think right now you need a friend. Please let me be your friend."
"Alec told me there's a way I could be healed. Well, he thinks there's a good chance that I could be healed. Dr. Spencer?"
"Claire. Call me Claire."
"Why do I feel like I know you? I don't know you. I don't really remember talking to you in the hospital so long ago."
"I held your hand. Like this. And you said you hadn't been touched in so long. Only you didn't, but that's what you were going to say. You looked so lost, so lonely. Alec told me you hadn't been able to grieve for your wife, and that-what is it, Ed?"
"My wife. Oh God. My wife. Margaret! Margaret's dead! I don't want to remember! Don't make me remember!" he yelled at her.
"Oh shit, they didn't tell you yet. Oh pins and needles, what have I done? Oh Ed, I am so sorry."
"Margaret. My wife. Dead. Car crash. Lorry. Dead. She had massive injuries the doctor said. Multiple organ failure. She died. My wife. My unborn child. Dead. Oh my God. Oh my God." Ed burst into uncontrollable sobbing, and she held him gently, stroking his back, supporting him while he wept, and he held on to her hard, sobbing and shaking.
In the monitoring room, Alec held on to Yetunde's hand as they watched the live video feed of Ed and Claire. Yetunde had arranged lunch for Ryan and then come to join Alec.
"Fuck, fuck fuck. He knew. Mags must have told him. All this time, he knew." Alec said, tears falling down his own cheeks. Yetunde was equally overcome by shared grief.
"He is weeping, Alec. He remembers. For the first time in more than than two years, he is mourning the loss of his wife and child. He finally is mourning. And in the videotape I showed you how he threw himself out of the wheelchair, reliving the accident, he finally got back his instinct to survive. He chose life."
"Yetunde, but he is never going to be completely well if we don't try that bacteria." Alec said somberly.
"Has he given you an answer? About risking it?" Yetunde asked.
"No, Ed said he wanted some time to think it over. And I still haven't told him about Stanley and what Stanley hid from him. And Ryoko and Yolanda and Chloe and Devon and Frances are all wanting to visit, but I told them it's too soon. I talked to Dr. Theberge today about using the bacteria and he lapsed into French at me. The one word I recognised for certain was merde."
"That sounds like Maurice. He and Ryoko are the strangest pair, but very, very happy. And Alec, I have been talking to Frances about Angel coming. She said he took a leave from St. Stephens and went on some business trip to Washington, and all by himself, and he wouldn't tell her what he was up to, but that he said he intended to fix things for Edward and see him when he got back. So naturally Frances is so worried, she has cooked for half of England."
Alec chuckled at that, wiping away tears.
"Speaking of cooking, let's take Ed and Claire out to lunch. A proper restaurant. Ed needs to get out of this damn hospital finally. Tell Nate to get one of the courtesy limos from the studio, bring it around front and we'll go out. Gay is going to handle Shado for a while for me. She said she wanted to visit Ed, and I told her not right yet."
"Oh my love, that sounds wonderful. Do you think Edward is ready to go out in public?" Yetunde pulled out her cell phone.
"Well, maybe not in those pajamas." Alec smiled, looking back at the screen. Yetunde chuckled. Claire was still holding Ed, tightly this time. He was crying more softly. She completed her call, and watched Ed and Claire on the monitor.
"They make a nice couple." Yetunde said wistfully.
Alec shot her an amused look.
"Don't you think its a bit early to be thinking in terms of matchmaking?"
"She came across the Atlantic looking for him, Alec. And the way she looks at him is not predatory, or even sexual, like most of the females that are attracted to Ed. She looks at him like ..well.." Yetunde grinned.
"Spit it out, Doctor." Alec said.
"Like she is devoted to him. And always will be. The way you look at him."
"Oh shut up." Alec grinned. "I just don't have enough sense in my head to walk out on the impossible, bloody minded, obstinate, arrogant, stupid Bostonian Yankee son of a bitch."
"Whatever you say, my love." Yetunde announced, clearly not buying it for a minute.
Alec kissed her, then slapped her firmly on the butt as they went out.
* * *
"Gosh, I'm nervous. And I can't tie this damn tie!" Ed Straker complained. "And look at me, that damn patch of hair where its growing back in looks like fuzz on a tennis ball, for crying out loud!" Ed said, frowing into the full length mirror in his flat.
"Hush, Edward, just comb the top hair over it. Here, let me. Yetunde gave my purse back to me, and I have my hair gel in it." Claire reached for her purse.
"I'm not putting any girl stuff in my hair, so you can forget that idea!" he ranted. "Oh for the love of God, I can't tie this tie!"
"Pins and needles, you moan worse than Ryan does," Claire chuckled. "Now hold still. I'll do it for you." Deftly, she tied a windsor knot in his tie and pulled it up into place. He stared in the mirror.
"How'd you learn to do that?"
"I grew up with two babies. My father and my brother. I always tied their ties for them, and my Dad was very vain, he had to have the best suits and fancy knots in his ties. And judging by the wardrobe you have, you're just like him. I like your house a lot. It was so nice of Alec and Yetunde to take care of it until you were able to come home. Your wife was so beautiful, Ed."
Ed looked sadly at the picture album on his wardrobe dresser that Claire was admiring.
"I don't remember very much about her. Claire, I'm sorry-"
"Goodness. For what?"
"I got pretty maudlin with you. I had no right to go to pieces like that. Or to yell at you. You couldn't have known that Alec and Yetunde had chosen to not tell me Margaret was dead."
"Nonsense, Edward. We're friends. Friends share pain. Two people carrying a burden makes it lighter." She kissed him gently on the cheek, and he stared at her, wide-eyed, then he smiled slightly. She smiled and picked up his suit jacket and helped him put it on.
"You're kind to me."
"You're easy to be kind to. Are you sure you won't let me fix that hair of yours?"
"I suppose I can entrust myself to you. What was it Yetunde said? That you were relatively harmless." he smiled.
"I can think of some worse things to be known as, but that isn't my favorite. Come sit down, here, I have your cane. Ed, the first thing I'm going to do when I get to go shopping again is buy you a fancier cane to use. This old National health thing is an eye sore."
Ed accepted it and hobbled over to the edge of his bed, after picking up the album and flipping through it.
"It beats that damn wheelchair I was in."
Claire parted his hair and combed it over his scar, and sprayed a bit of gel on.
"There, you're all set to go. Edward, you look so wonderfully handsome."
"I feel like a damn debutante about to be paraded around on a runaway."
"Pins and needles! Don't say the word debutante. I was one. My mother forced me on society, in a frilly gown I despised. Ugh!" Ed grinned at her, then turned his attention back to the album.
"I wonder what my mother was like?" Ed said. He stared at the picture of a tiny fair woman with wavy golden-blonde hair in a cashmere sweater and pearls smiling at the camera.
"Come on, Edward, Alec and Nate and Yetunde are waiting."
Ed nodded, put the album in a drawer. He followed Claire into the living room of his house, looked around.
"It's hard to believe I own this house, and that I lived here for so many years."
"We can explore it when you get back, Edward."
"Claire, do you think I should try what he wants me to try? The bacteria?" Ed said suddenly.
Claire froze for a moment, sighed.
"Edward, I swore the Hippocratic oath. And the oath says I will prescribe regimen for the good of my patients according to my ability and by judgment and never do harm to anyone. To please no one will I prescribe a deadly drug, nor give advice which may cause his death. So for me the answer would be no. The bacteria is deadly. But it's a choice only you can make." Claire said softly. She chewed on the inside of her lip to keep from crying. It didn't work. Tears escaped her eyes.
"Now I've made you cry." Ed said, troubled. She took his hand in both of hers.
"I found you, Edward. I saw you walk out of that door and I was determined to find you once more. And now, I may lose you all over again. Before, you wanted only to die. Now, you've decided to live. Alec's handing you a death sentence on the impossible hope that bacteria that doesn't even originate from this planet, and mutates in a way your scientists don't even fully understand will restore you to perfect health. All I know is that he says you will have to die before it happens, that you will have to suffer seizures. Seizures in your current condition might kill you immediately. I'm so afraid for you. I don't know what I'll do if you're taken from me again."
"Claire. You already know what I will tell Alec." Ed said quietly.
Claire laid his hand against her cheek, shivering.
"I know. I know you will say yes. I know you will say yes, because it is in your nature."
He chuckled softly.
"You and I hardly know one another. How could you possibly know that its my nature?"
"I just know. Come on, Edward. Let's have one wonderful day to remember before you have to do your duty. Let's make a day to remember." She let his hand go reluctantly.
"Claire. I intend to come back. I'll come back whole. I promise you that." Ed said intently. She chuckled, a response that surprised him.
"You can't look into the future, Edward. How could you possibly promise me that?"
He grinned impishly.
"Because its in my nature."
"And how do you know that?" she laughed.
"I just know." Ed led her out the door, carefully using his cane to take weight off his injured leg and hip.
* * *
"Watch this," Ed Straker announced gravely. Alec and Yetunde watched in pretended horror. Nate and Claire, on the other hand, watched in veiled amusement. Ed took his straw, used it like a pool cue, and broke up the peas with a deft movement with a pearl onion as his like they were tiny poolballs. Yetunde and Alec exchanged looks, but that was nothing compared to some other patrons of the rather expensive restaurant they'd gone to. It wasn't every day one observed a man in his fifties behaving like a boy of nine. Nate gave them a warning look that hit them as solid as a quarterback , and they quickly turned away. Ed looked exceptionally pleased with his accomplishment. Claire finally couldn't help it. She giggled.
Ed gave her a hurt look.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Edward, no, I was just thinking you would have made a fine pool hustler." she smiled. Ed beamed.
"Ah ah ah. Are you going to actually eat any of that food, Edward?" Yetunde asked.
Ed studied her for a moment.
"Oh oh. Why do I smell trouble?" Alec said, finally grinning. Ed had been alternately childish and melancholy all during the meal, and even though they'd all expected some personality difficulties with him, it had been quite an experience to witness them.
Ed used the straw like a 6 iron, and swung a pea in her general direction. Yetunde stared at the pea in her lap. The rest of them dissolved into hysterical laughter.
"Edward. Your next physical is going to be so painful." Yetunde said.
Ed dropped the straw on his plate, and poked without appetite at his salad with a fork.
"If I live to have it. The bacteria may really kill me." Ed said quietly.
Yetunde sighed, and the others drew serious.
"We do not want to hear that kind of talk." Yetunde said haughtily.
"Then maybe you are the ones with the brain injury! Because you are all denying what might really happen to me tomorrow!" Ed threw down the fork violently, it clattered on the dish, and bounced off onto the carpet. Ed jumped up , grabbing his cane, and stormed off at a surprisingly fast pace for a man with a mending hip. Nate went pale and rose to his feet and hurried after him, followed close behind by Alec. Desperately he tried to find out where Ed had gone. Yetunde made no attempt to hide her tears and neither did Claire.
"Oh Dr. Folsade!" Claire said softly. "He's right you know. Trying to protect him is just making him feel worse. He's struggling. He's struggling so hard. Alec wants him to go back to something that Ed can hardly remember. He hardly remembers Margaret, for the love of God! His own wife."
"No need to be formal, Claire. Call me Yetunde. If you can manage it. Edward always seems to be the only one who says it perfectly, and so prettily. I alway-" Yetunde buried her face in her hands, and Claire touched her shoulder gently. Yetunde lowered her hands and wiped her face.
"It must be so terrible for you. You love them both, don't you. And yet they are both bound by duty." Claire said.
"Alec is not bound by duty. Alec is bound by Edward and Edward's Shado. I wish sometimes that I never heard of Shado. I think Alec may be making a horrible mistake. He thinks he is doing it out of love for Edward, but Claire, oh Claire, I have rarely seen Edward this relaxed, this spontaneous, this playful and loving. As though the years and years of what Shado had done to him were swept away by that night, that horrible night when he stepped in front of Alec's car. Somewhere in Alec's heart I know Alec doesn't really want to do this. He thinks he would be betraying Edward if he didn't act as if he does want it. I know they both want Edward to be well. But Edward going back to Shado, back to a day-to-day life with no one and nothing but duty, will that be life? Won't that be a death too? Won't it, Claire? There is only so much that we as his friends can do to ease his grief. Can we not spare him that agony all over again? To lose wife and child, again, on the same night? Mary. Johnny. Now all these years later, Margaret, and the little girl she carried within her."
Claire gasped.
"A girl? Does Edward know? But Yetunde, Alec said you said that--"
"Margaret had amniocentisis done. There was no sign that it was going to be anything but a normal pregnancy. She was just full of fear. Fear of losing her figure. Fear of pain. Fear of being a mother. She told me all those things. She even approached me about doing a abortion, and I refused. My hands were tied by confidentiality, I could not run to Edward and tell him. It tore me apart! Ah ah ah! But it tore me apart. I do not know if Alec and I will ever have children, or if at Alec's age it is right to give his children a father that will not live to see them grow. I have not even talked to Alec about it. But Edward, I know he longs for a child. You should see the way he looks at little Devon."
"I wish-" Claire said, and then she pressed her lips together, shaking.
"You wish what, my sister?" Yetunde said, puzzled.
"I'm fifty, Yetunde. It's not always safe for a woman my age to be pregnant. But I wish I could give Edward a child...pardon me. . . I. better go help Nathaniel and Alec find Edward.." Claire jumped up as though she was escaping a burning building and disappeared in the crowded restaurant.
"Merciful Yemonja!" Yetunde said aloud. "She loves him!"
* * *
"No."
"Ed Straker, you are giving me ulcers."
"Oh, I'm giving you ulcers, Alec? You want me to just happily hold my arm out tomorrow and be injected with some bug that we all know is going to kill me, so I can pop up from the dead and be the way you and the others want me to be. To hell with you all! I don't want to!"
"God damn it Ed! You told me in the car it was your decision!"
"MY decision? Since when is anything my decision? Was it my decision to find out that Stanley lied to me? Or was it my decision to let Margaret abort my child? Or was it my decision to accept this damn job in the first place? Or was it my decision to get my brain so messed up that I don't even remember what my son looked like, or what my first kiss was like, or what flying is like, or what -oh hell, leave me alone! Just leave me alone! I should have died! Let Paul have the damn organization! What does it matter? Leave me the hell alone!"
"Ed. Talk to me." Alec said quietly.
"Oh just go away. I know you and yet I don't know you, and I want to talk to you and yet I don't, I don't know what's happening, Alec! I don't want to remember any more! Its too much! Make it stop! Oh God, I remember the seizures and not having any-oh Christ, being dumped in that hole in the earth and the mud filling my nostrils and my mouth, being buried, and I broke, I broke, I broke!"
"Ed, fuck it! We all broke under capture! None of us are superhuman. Especially not you! Do you think I could look for and care for a man all my life after the war if he was just a perfect cold, calculating machine? Christ, I saw you in that lousy hospital in Thailand, just sitting there, rotting, wasting away, yet with so much dignity, so much integrity. I wanted to know you, Ed. I saw the pain when you read that telegram about your mother- Ed? Ed?"
Ed was staring into space, seemingly not hearing Alec.
* * *
"You want to do what?"
Ed Straker had burst through the door, and grinned broadly down at his petite mother. Lord have mercy, barely started shaving, already he had shot up to nearly six feet, reed slim, trouble on two skinny legs, eyes wide as saucers, blue as the sky over London. She watched as he threw down his rucksack full of books from the university he went to. He'd come home, head full of stars, mouth full of words she could hardly understand. Lunar Research. Astrophysics. Why couldn't he be interested in some normal subjects? But no, not her beloved Edward. He had to be different. American. Like his father-but no, she would not think of her husband today. Only her son, her beautiful son with his beautiful shiny, wavy blonde hair which flopped around no matter how carefully he combed it.
"Astronaut, mother. I'm going to fly. And then I'm going to conquer the moon. Mare Tranquillitatis! I'll be the first Bostonian on the moon!"
"You will not, Edward Straker! You will settle down and marry some nice girl and raise a family!"
"UGH. If I have to, all that will come later on. I'm going to join the Air Force, Mother."
"Oh saints preserve us. You'd make me worry about you, up somewhere in one of those awful planes like your father-"
"They are not awful, Mothe-"
"Stop interrupting me!"
"Yesssss, Mother. What are you going to do, put me to bed with no supper?" Lord, who could resist him, with that teasing, impish half-smile, and those gorgeous eyes. And that amazing voice that seemed to come out of nowhere? All the women in her quilting circle were absolutely jealous of Rosemary Iris Straker and her son. She had to admit to herself she loved it. And him. Oh how she loved him!
"Oh my sweet little boy is becoming a man. Oh where did the time go? Oh my darling little boy! My poor sweet angel! Oh let me hold you!"
"Mother, for heaven's sake, I'm all grown up now!" Ed complained, but not much, and happily hugged his small, blonde British mother, with her perfectly pinned-up hair, and her cashmere sweater, and the wonderful lavender scent she wore that permeated the little house they lived in Boston. She sprayed it on everything. Sometimes she even sprayed it on him If he wasn't looking, just to playfully torment him.
"Edward you are squeezing me to death."
"Then I'll let you go and you can make me a ham sandwich, and some of that coleslaw, and I'll get a soda pop-"
"All that sugar will give you spots all over your face, Edward!"
"UGH! Thank God my acne days are over. They are, aren't they? Jesus! I haven't broke out again, have I? The Senior dance is coming up! Shit!" He vanished into the bathroom to see.
"Edward Straker! Don't you dare use that language in this household!" she scolded. "And I thought you didn't care about girls!"
"Helen isn't a girl, mother!" He actually sounded offended she thought. She peered at him fondly while he peered anxiously into the glass, looking for imaginary flaws in that fair face of his, that looked as exquisitely carved as the busts of Roman and Greek gods she'd seen in museums at home.
"Helen? Helen? Who is Helen? Have I met Helen?"
"Helen is a goddess!" Ed proclaimed.
"You said Jacqueline was a goddess last month." she smiled at him. He looked wounded.
"Jacqueline is a jackass."
"Edward! Bite your tongue!"
"She dumped me for that moronic football hero. Who cares about the gridiron anyway? Besides, I never really liked her."
"Didn't you give her your sweater? The one I made you?"
"Yeah but that was when we were going steady. Now she likes him better. Women! Well, I'll show her. I'm going to be a hero! I'll show her and all her stuck-up friends in that sorority. I'm going to be somebody special! I'll be a hero! I'll save the world! The name Edward Straker is going to be a household word. And you'll be famous, Mother! You'll get to stand with me in cars going down main street, in ticker tape parades!"
"I won't if you don't eat something so you'll grow up big and strong."
"Moooother. I am grown up!"
"Ohhhh. I can't get used to it. Soon you'll be wanting to move out, in a place of your own."
"Mother, you aren't going to cry, gosh now, don't cry, you know I can't stand it when you cry--" Ed worriedly began.
* * *
"She cried." Ed said softly, tears running down his own cheeks. "She always cried."
"Who cried?" Alec said, Claire and Yetunde and Nate having come outside to the car where Alec and Ed stood.
"My mother, Alec. My mother. She didn't like doctors. We didn't know then how fragile her health was. Or how precious little time we left had together. I entered the Air Force, and I called her or wrote her everyday. And then I volunteered for Vietnam, and the capture-she never knew I survived. I remember her, Alec. She loved me very much. I wonder if there's an afterlife. I wonder if I will see her again. Can you hear me, Mother? Your son is a hero. A hero no one knows about. No ticker tape parades, Mother. No nothing, Mother. But he knows his duty. He'll do his duty. He always does." Ed said, with a bitterness that cut into Claire's heart.
"Ed.." Alec said hopelessly.
"Can we go someplace for coffee? I could use some coffee." Ed forced a smile he didn't feel.
"I'll buy." Claire smiled, her smile as genuine as his.
* * *
The morning had come all too soon. They'd all quietly sat in Ed's hospital room the entire night, playing cards without enthusiasm. Whenever Ed would grunt or talk in his sleep, they all froze like a tableaux from a wax museum, and when it was obvious his sleep hadn't been disturbed, they went back to playing. There was a soft knock on the door, and Alec put down his cards to see who it was. Nate was outside, so he knew there was nothing to worry about, but all the same, he rested his hand on his gun butt.
"Angel!" Alec said with surprise. The reverend looked tired and jet-lagged from his trip.
"Good to see a familiar face finally." Angel managed to smile. Then he looked toward Ed, who was beginning to wake up.
Ed yawned. He looked around nervously, remembering what awaited him that morning.
"Is it time?" he inquired softly to nobody in particular, fear in his voice.
"It is just about, yes, Edward." Yetunde said. "There is still time to change your mind, you know."
Ed wasn't listening to her, he was staring at Angel.
"Why are you here?"
"Do you remember me, Q-tip?"
"Don't call me that. I remember you all right. I remember you and your lies."
"I know. I brought you something. I've brought you the truth." Angel remarked. "And I brought you something that belongs to you."
"What are you talking about?" Alec said.
"I'm not at all interested." Ed said. "Make him go away. I don't want him here. He isn't my friend. He just pretended to be."
"Q-tip, son, it's important."
"NO! I'm important here, and I can send you away."
"Hang on a second, Ed. Give him a chance." Alec said. Ed scowled, looked away, but he didn't respond.
Angel pulled up a chair, looking for a moment at a sleepy Claire, offering her a smile she didn't return.
"Q-tip. son. What do you remember about the hours after they shot your friend Bell? After they broke you, and shot him?"
Ed flinched. The crack of the rifle, and the splatter of Andrew Bell's brain matter on him, the smell of the blood, urine and manure. The empty feeling when the muzzle had been placed on him, and the laughter when they'd only pretended to give him death. Then the beating. Hours passed, half-conscious, pain, weakness. Then sometime before dawn, the tapping from the man he knew as Angel.
(( Q-tip, it's Angel, are you awake, are you okay? I know they worked you over pretty bad. But this is important.))
((No listen, I'm fine, fine, Angel, I'm all right, what is it?))
((Q-tip, fine my Aussie arse, we all saw what the bastards did to you, saw Tank buy the farm. Drummer understood a little of what the gooks were saying. They killed him, Q-tip. They killed him instead of me. They beat me, beat me because I refused to help bury you. I broke. I spilled my guts. Drummer brought their wrath down upon himself, gave his life for me. I don't have the stomach for what we have to do, God help me. They're planning to move us to another location in the morning. Three or four guards, the rest have gone ahead. They aren't expecting anything from us, they think they've got us beaten. We're going to move against them. We'll have casualities, but this is the only chance we have. What shape are you really in?))
((Not great, Angel, not great. In pain, feverish. Peeing blood again, they pounded my kidneys, just about pulverised my back and legs. If you're thinking about escape, I'm with you, you know that Sir, but I will probably only slow you up.))
((I want you to be acting SRO, can you understand that, Q-tip? You were a few away from getting your oak leaves. If it hadn't been for that black man, you never would have broke. So be ready in the morning. Get as much rest as you can. I'm formally making you SRO. The other men know. God be with you. Hey, Q-tip?))
((Good sweet Jesus. I'll do my best, God help me. God help us all. Yes Angel?))
((I never can remember your Christian name.))
((Ed Straker. What's yours?))
((Stanley Brisby. But I like being called Angel. God be with you, Ed. May I be the first to call you Major Ed Straker?))
(( Sounds rather grand! God be with you, Angel. ))
Morning arrived, and the men started to be herded out, like animals. There were about eleven of them left, the others had been either executed that day with Tank, or hadn't survived the torture, near-starvation and sickness. The guards were getting ready to chain them together. Trying to keep the astonishment out of their faces from seeing each other's ragged, emaciated bodies , they quietly gave each other hand signals to get ready, surreptitiously handed each other crude weapons they'd formed from what little they were able to scavenge and hide. Survivors, Ed thought, all of them. Now all they needed was the right opportunity. A chance for hope. Ed saw one of the guards head impatiently toward him, when he had fallen with a cry and was having problems rising, trying to conceal his agony. Ed stood up slowly, and Angel watched as the gook yelled at him. Not looking at the other men, Ed coughed a signal ((Going to take mine out, be alert, follow my lead, that's an order)) . Crikey, Angel thought, Q-tip had been feigning! But he'd characteristically given them the break they needed. Men all around sprang into action, and the other guards started firing in panic. Angel backed away, terrified, tripped and fell. Angel saw a barrage of fire hit Q-tip and the American man grunted out once and went down. Something in Angel snapped and he broke a guard's neck, grabbed the dead man's rifle and filled Q-tip's assailant full of holes. A quick look around showed that they had been cut down to five, with four dead, and two badly wounded. Ed was one who remained, covered in blood, moaning. Angel bandaged him the best he could to stem off the bleeding, hoisted him up in his arms with the help of several others, and Q-tip screamed. Couldn't be helped. Now came the impossible task of keeping alive in the jungle until help came. If it came. By the time they had gone roughly a mile, Angel could feel Q-tip burning up, and looking like he'd pass out again. Q-tip had been in and out of consciousness, and by sheer determination alone was still alive.
"You've got to stay awake, Q-tip!"
"We've got to go back, go back for Andy."
"Q-tip, there isn't anything left of him to go back for. Men, keep moving."
"Angel, just go ahead without me. I can't make it."
"Crikey! You've made it this far, you're SRO, you saved our lives, you can make it a couple more miles. Keep moving."
"Shit! Angel, you hear that? Chopper!"
"Got to go back, Andy's hurt bad."
"He doesn't know his fucking darkie's dead, does he? He's still worried about the very bastard that betrayed him."
"He's full of holes, half dead, oozing blood, burning up, what do you expect?" Angel snapped angrily.
"I'm so thirsty-- shit, Angel, we lost Drummer."
"I know, damn it," Angel was grim. Drummer had been his mate. Even so, he had let him die in his place. How could he live with that? But he had to save this American's life. This amazing man, and his unconquerable soul. "Keep moving!"
"Did you see that gook's face before I shot him in the face with his own rifle? He fell open like a rotten kiwi."
"SAR chopper's coming closer, Q-tip. Fried crap! Damn it, no! Don't you die on me Q-tip, the rest of you keep moving."
"Fucking leeches! "
"No time for complaining now. Time to pray we don't run into any gooks or trip any wires. "
"Jesus fucking Christ! Look at the size of that snake!"
"To hell with the snake, start signalling that chopper!"
"We made it Angel, we made it, fuck, we actually made it." The men started hugging each other weakly and clapping each other on the back.
"Move! Move! Move! We've got company on our tail and we have to get out of here quick." the chopper pilot yelled over the din of the rotor blades. He started scooping the men in. Angel remained on the ground, gently cradling Q-tip in his arms.
"Nobody will ever hear from my lips that you broke, Q-tip. I swear it before God. I never saw courage like I saw from the likes of Drummer and you. For as long as I live, nobody will know. Can you understand me? Nobody will ever know." Ed did not seem to hear, or care.
"Careful now, he's hurt bad. Lower the harness."
"Got to go back for Andy, can't leave Andy." The moaning was growing weaker, but he still struggled.
"Q-tip, I'm sorry, he's dead, but you'll be dead if we don't get you to hospital soon. Help me lift him. And fuck it, I told you careful, he's got enough metal in him to build you Yanks another chopper."
"Oh God, no, don't, it hurts! NO! NO!" Ed screamed as they lifted him into the harness and into the chopper, followed by Angel, and lifted off. Blessedly he passed out.
* * *
"You." Ed said quietly. "You were afraid. You made me senior ranking officer. I was just a raw captain back then. You knew I'd broken. But you gave me command." Ed said in astonishment, remembering. Ed looked toward the window, lost in memories. Light was beginning to filter through the glass, and softened his features.
"Yes, Q-tip. You saved us. I swore I'd never let it be known you'd disobeyed your code of conduct. The men all agreed for your sake. Up to the day Andrew Bell betrayed you, stabbed you in the back, you'd been that unconquerable soul in that poem you always liked. I was the coward, God forgive me. I never was much for pain. And afterwards, they lowered code standards, Q-tip. You had done nothing wrong. You never committed any crime. And I brought you back from Washington what you deserved, what you've always deserved. I told them how sick you were, and what had happened, and they pushed the hearing through. This is yours, Commander. This is yours."
Angel brought a small black case out and placed it into Ed's hands. Nathaniel by this time had come in, worried for Ed. He and the others gathered around as Ed opened the box. Ed lifted a medal out of its velvet bed, held it reverently. His fingers rested on the gold letters that spelled V-A-L-O-R. He was quiet.
"The Congressional Medal of Honor." Alec smiled. "Even an old Aussie like myself knows what it looks like."
"The Air Force version. The largest version there is. Leave it to the Air Force to do things bigger and better than anyone else. I don't know that I merit it." Ed responded, awed. "But I can tell you, it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time. Thank you, Stanley."
They exchanged looks. That hadn't been the voice of a man who needed index cards to remember which shoe went on what foot. That was the voice of the man who commanded Shado. Claire Spencer, tearful, broke the silence with loud applause that at first startled the others, and then they broke out in grins, and clapped themselves, and whistled, and stamped their feet, and cheered.
Ed shook his head at them, more than a little embarrassed.
"This is a hospital, remember?" However, he grinned. Gingerly he wiped away his tears, and placed the prize in its box. "Hold that for me, Angel. I will see what it looks like on my uniform if I come-when I come back. And how you got it out of Washington is a story that I would like to hear."
"He probably promised a lot of senators' wives Frances' lemon cake recipe," Nate chuckled. Ed grinned at Nate.
At that moment, Maurice Theberge came in with a sealed metal box. Ed bit his lip momentarily. The contents were unmistakable.
"Bonjour, Commander. The injection is ready, are you?" The French-Canadian doctor pretended a joviality he didn't feel, and no one was convinced of.
"Let's get it over with." Ed rolled up his sleeve, and the doctor took out the needle and syringe from its plastic packet, lay it aside, swabbed Ed's forearm with a alcohol swab. Claire gave a little gasp and stared out the window, unable to look. Theberge filled the hypodermic with the pale, sickly yellow fluid, pierced Ed's skin with the needle, and pushed the plunger. Ed rubbed his arm afterwards, pushed down his sleeve.
"Done. Now we wait." Ed said, with a nonchalance they all knew was as plastic as the ripped packet.
* * *
"Oh God. I must be insane. My mother's going to rip my head off and feed it to a dog. Why am I doing this."
"Shut up will ya? You want to put the moves on that little number of yours, don'tcha, Eds? That dish of yours with the tits bigger than Massachusettes?"
"I want to run. I want to throw up. I want exploratory brain surgery. I want to jump off a cliff and die."
"You're a coward, Straker. You ain't got no balls. And you think the Air Force is actually going to want you? You know your problem, Straker? Besides not ever getting your nuts off?"
"No, but I just know you're going to tell me. What vengeful God ever gave me YOU guys as roommates? Just drown me in the Charles River now, and be over with it."
"Boy he talks a lot. No wonder he never got into the sack at his age. He talks too much. Now shut up and go into the damn drug store and buy you know what."
"Eds talks too much but he has the best fucking grade point average in the entire mathematics department, hell in the whole fucking school. He's been on the Dean's list-hell, he was born on the Dean's list."one of them complained. Ed grinned at him. It changed to a frown as they approached their destination.
"I'm condemned. I just bought real estate in Hades." Ed wailed, staring at the small drug store window. He and four of his classmates at the University were in their senior year, and had taken pity on him. Or condemned his soul to everlasting hell, Ed thought. It was a cool, gorgeous evening in the University town, and he'd told his mother he was going to be studying at the student living quarters. It had been traumatic enough when he'd moved out and now he was lying to her. Lying big time. But a guy had to do what a guy had to do. Especially when he was weeks away from graduating, and days away from going to the Dance, the most important event in history. And with Helen Massey! Him! Helen Massey! Helen Massey, goddess! Helen Massey! God, he'd buy her a corsage. Hell, he'd clean out every last florist in Massachusetts.
"Eds, will you just go in there and buy the fucking thing?"
"Be easy on him, the poor guy is British and born right here in the Back bay. Two strikes against him. He isn't one of us."
"Go buy the condom, for Christ's sake!"
"Don't say that word aloud!" Ed gulped.
His friends all dissolved into hysterical laughter.
"Semantics, it's all semantics with Eds here." One of his friends slapped him affectionately on the back, nearly knocking him over. Ed looked determined. He marched into the drugstore, and fifteen minutes later, marched out, carrying a bag, and looking like he'd been under a heat lamp.
"Eds, did you get it?"
"Shut up, Charley. I got it. And when they strap me into the chair and let the cyanide pellet drop, I'll think of you." Ed peered into the paper bag and peered at the offensive object like it was a disembodied head. Mine, he thought.
"Think of that luscious thing you're going to the dance with. What's her name again? Does she have a sister?"
"Shut up. Shut up, all of you. I'm going to call and see how Mother is."
"Awwwww, isn't that touching? He's going to see how mother is."
Ed quite easily twisted the offending roommate's arm behind his back and jerked it up until he yelled in agony. It was an incredible show of superiority, since he towered over the skinnier Ed by at least a foot.
"Charley, I know several ways to kill a man and I'm going to try them all out on you."
"Shit, Eds, I'm your friend! Lemme go!" The others laughed and pointed and mocked him, since he was on the basketball team which Ed was a part of,( a tiny part, Ed thought, ruefully aware he was the shortest on the team) and the best athlete among the bunch.
"Say uncle. Or I'll toss you in the Charles river in a cement overcoat. Never ever say anything about my mother."
"Eds, you know I adore your mother. I love your mother. I worship your mother. I had sex with your mother last week. Would I- AAAAAAAAAAAaa!" he screamed. Ed grinned broadly and twisted his arm up further.
* * *
Ed muttered in his sleep, and came awake. Claire drew a wet cloth across his forehead again. He was burning up, and had been vomiting off and on since the injection. They were forcing fluids and mild pain medication into him through the I.V. drip. He hadn't had a seizure at all, just been continually sick. Finally out of exhaustion he'd dropped off to sleep.
"Hi. Nate's outside, but I convinced everyone to take a break and go get something to eat, the way you wanted them to. Still feel horrible?"
"I was dreaming about being back in Boston. My friends and I. I haven't thought about that night in ages. I didn't fall from my pedestal. I more or less plummeted, and I didn't have anything remotely resembling Icarus' feathers, either. Oh, damn it, Claire, I'm going to throw up again. I thought that stuff you injected me with was going to-" Ed lifted his head and vomited into the plastic dish again, shaking a little. When it was over, he lay back down again and she wiped his face off.
"It usually does, Ed. We use Zofran all the time to stop vomiting. It's just not working with you. Maurice is in the lab now, going over your blood and urine samples, we'll see what's going on in your body. We'll find out why it isn't working with you."
"You're telling me? Claire, thanks for staying with me, but I'm okay. You haven't had any sleep and you can't live on coffee. Go take a break with the others."
"Edward, you're far too weak to throw me out of here, so forget it. Tell me about your dream."
Ed smiled.
"It's kind of embarrassing, actually. I was a virgin back then, and that wasn't a wildly appealing thing to be for a guy my age. So my buddies talked me into buying protection, and making Helen Massey the lucky girl on the night of the Senior Ball. Or the unlucky victim, depending on how you look at it."
I will not blush, Claire told herself. What would he think of me, a virgin at MY age? Oh Claire, just think about your patient and stop being silly.
"So what happened?"
Ed looked in the direction of the window.
* * *
"Gosh, you look so beautiful tonight. You do know you've made me the happiest man in the world, don't you, Helen?"
"You always know what to say, Ed. I keep thinking you're an English major."
"Doesn't always take an English major to appreciate when a girl looks like a princess. A fairytale princess."
"Ed, you're such a card." she chuckled.
"We could go somewhere. Just you and I. The crepe paper is beginning to look like its seen better days, and the spiked punch supply is depleted. I think the party's over."
"I thought you'd never ask, Mr. Valedictorian. My parents aren't home. Let's go there."
Ed scores, and the crowd is on its feet! They're screaming the name Straker! They're carrying him out on their shoulders! Ed dismissed the mental image and leaned forward and kissed her.
"Let's go." he agreed. "I'll get my car and drive it around to the front. You wait right here."
"Don't be long."
He went out to the parking lot. No, that wasn't accurate. He floated out to the parking lot, collected the blue and white Buick that had been a birthday present from his mother, and brought it around. Tossing his car keys up and down, and whistling merrily, he went back inside the building. She wasn't where he'd left her. Couples were wandering out, but a few stragglers remained on the dance floor, even though the band looked and sounded as bad as the crepe paper did. She wasn't anywhere to be found. What in God's name? Suddenly he snapped his fingers. She must have gone to the ladies' bathroom to freshen up. Immensely relieved, he bounded over there, looked down both sides of the hall, and went up to the door. He thought he heard something. He looked around for a moment, knocked. Nothing. He pushed the door slightly open and stepped inside uneasily. Ed saw her right away. She was turned sideways, and she was groaning, and the velvet and pearl bodice of her chiffon gown, with its tulle underskirt, was pushed down, one of its spaghetti straps torn, the other dangling, and her push-up bra was on the tile floor. There was a boy with her, his mouth clamped over hers, and he was fondling her bare breasts and nipple, and pushing suggestively against her, and Ed froze, he just froze.
The boy was Charles Morrison.
Charley. His best friend.
Ed marched up to them, and he pushed Helen aside, and he balled his hand into a fist, and he hit Charles with everything he had in him. Helen screamed, and Charles went down, bleeding from the nose. Helen was saying something.
But Ed didn't bother to listen. It was hard to listen, when your heart was in pieces. He did an about face, and he walked away as fast as he could.
* * *
"So that was my night of the senior dance." Ed shrugged. "Didn't much matter, because not long after that, I graduated with highest honors, and I joined the Air Force."
"She chose that creep instead of you? What a horrible thing to do to you."
"I don't exactly bat a thousand with wom-"
"No! No, I told you! God damn it, come back here!" Nathaniel was yelling outside, and Claire and Ed exchanged looks, and he reached for his pistol in his nightstand drawer, but then she burst through the door and he groaned. He pushed the drawer closed.
"My poor Edward! I heard everything, that little wife of yours, it is so sad. Everytime I find you you are in the hospital! You look horrible, absolutely horrible! Who is she?" Lily Marsh eyed Claire Spencer suspiciously.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but she-" Nate explained, frustrated. He gave Marsh a look as if he desperately wanted to use her for target practice.
"Never mind, Nathaniel. God himself couldn't stop Lily Marsh. Lily and I were engaged to be married once, Claire, and occasionally she pops back into my life. Where have you been keeping yourself, Lily?" Ed asked, thinking her sympathy for Maggie was a bit less than authentic. She didn't sound sad at all. She sounded like she was planning to plant a flag in him and conquer him. Not this time, Lily, he thought. Besides, I may be dead in a few hours.
"God? Goddess, my silly Edward. Have you not been looking after yourself? Do you not eat? You are so thin!"
"He is ill and this is a hospital, and you don't have any right to come barging in when he's so ill. I'm Dr. Claire Spencer. When he's allowed visitors, you'll be the first to know. Now go out with Nathaniel, so Ed can rest."
"Who do you think you are? Edward, this silly female is telling me what to do."
"I don't know what you use for a brain, but you better get the hell out of here before I remove it with a scapel." Claire snarled at Lily, and Lily actually backed off, and Nathaniel and Ed exchanged approving looks. The kitten had sharper claws than they'd thought. Ed grinned in spite of how sour his stomach felt. Still, he was tired.
"Lily, just go away. I'm not up to one of your-oh damn-" Ed reached quickly for the plastic bowl and vomited into it. Lily turned slightly green, and ran out. Nathaniel looked as happy as if he'd gotten a raise. Claire emptied, washed and wiped the bowl, wrung out the towel in cold water and sponged his face again. Ed studied her silently.
"Do you want to go to the senior dance with a valedictorian?" Ed said playfully.
Claire looked surprised, but then she chuckled.
"I'd be delighted, Edward Straker. But I warn you, I have two left feet."
"Who said we'd be dancing?"
Claire blushed. The door opened and she sighed. Maurice, Angel, Alec and Yetunde came in. Ed groaned. Claire bit her lip, trying to read something, anything on their faces. Yetunde actually seemed quite serene to her, and she didn't know how to interpret that. Alec looked like he was carrying an impossible weight.
"All right, all right. I see all the long faces. What's the news?" Ed sighed.
"The report came in, on the progress of the bacteria." Theberge announced.
"And? For the love of God, doctor, just tell me!"
"It didn't work, Edward." Yetunde said. Alec went and sat on the edge of Ed's bed. Alec looked like some creature had eaten him, digested him and then spit him out. He gave Ed a look, opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"What do you mean it didn't work?" yelled Ed, clearly at the end of his rope.
"The bacteria at first were active, as we expected, but they are being killed off. You apparently developed antibodies from your first exposure to them, and the antibodies are attacking them in droves. It was a possibility we didn't even think of. What you've been having are flu-like symptoms. All indications seem to show that those too, will go away eventually. You are a walking vaccine for the bacteria. You aren't going to die, Commander. You will probably outlive all of us."
Ed shook his head slowly.
"I don't believe this. This is some bizarre nightmare." Ed blurted. Claire took his hand, trying to take it all in.
"Ed, you don't know how sorry I am to have been the one to have put you through this." Alec said.
"Forget it, Alec. Wait..this means I won't get well, doesn't it? My injuries. . ."
"That can't be right. In the past day or so he's been totally coherent, gaining practically full control of his facilities, remembering short and long term events, making unbelievable progress. And all this was before you gave him that bacteria." Claire insisted.
"It may have been because of the bacteria's long term effects. We saw how the bacteria initially died when he did, but left him with remarkable beneficial properties. It may be why he's improving rapidly in spite of sustaining such a drastic injury to the brain." Theberge said.
"Then you're saying we just could have waited?" Alec blinked. "Ed was getting well anyway?"
Nathaniel whooped happily, Claire chuckled, squeezed Ed's fingers and she smiled at Edward, a smile he returned.
"What was it Reverend Brisby said about our Edward? The unconquerable soul. Now he has an unconquerable body to match!" Claire told them all.
Now that's an understatement, Yetunde thought wickedly. Did Edward not notice how the brunette looked at him? No, probably not. I will take care of that. Otherwise Alec will never marry me. Until Ed is settled down, Alec will never buy me that ring. I will have to help matters along. Yetunde smiled at Claire warmly, plotting.
"It sure doesn't feel like it. Am I really going to live?" Ed was saying.
"To be a pain in the arse for a long time to come, Ed." Alec smiled with open affection. Ed smiled at him, blinking back tears. Then he reached behind him, grabbed his pillow, and hit Alec as hard as he could with it. They all laughed, Claire giggled and Yetunde guffawed almost as loudly as Alec did.
"Bastard. You have me nearly killed for nothing. If you wanted to take over as Shado commander, you had only to ask!"
"Better me than Paul Foster. Speaking of Paul, I have quite a story to tell you about him and Caroline Constantine that I have a feeling you'll appreciate. I'll save it when they let you out of here."
"Sounds intriguing, Alec. Angel? I might be inclined to forgive you if you can get Frances to bake me some of that lemon cake again." Ed winced, and rubbed his stomach. "That is, when I'm able to eat it."
"Oh dear, I forgot to ring Cupcake and tell her I am home." Angel exclaimed.
"Then go do it. I am as bad as you, Stanley, I must phone Ryoko in San Francisco, and tell her Edward is all right." Maurice smiled.
"Someone should go see if Lily is all right." Ed said, reluctantly letting go of Claire's hand, something that didn't go unnoticed by Yetunde. But then, hardly anything did, Yetunde thought contentedly, and there was nothing wrong with Claire Spencer that Shado training and a hair salon and makeup and a new frock and perfume wouldn't fix. Claire Spencer would be her project of the year.
They all looked at him in astonishment.
"Or maybe not?" Ed quipped.
"Now we know the Commander's brain was injured." Nathaniel declared somberly. Ed grinned broadly at him.
The end.
But James Bond will be back..uh I mean Ed Straker will be back in a story tentatively called Abattoir (note from author, its in progress, and was renamed Blood Of The Lamb.
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