mfrose@montego.umcc.umich.edu (Martin Rose) Thunder Force log. Standard date, February 14th, 2307. St. Valentine's Day, if you care. Also Eiko Magami's birthday -- again, if you care. What would have been another uneventful Florist's Holiday here aboard the Righteous Indignation (the Tarawa's been away for a day or so, shuttling some high-risk terrorist prisoners to the high- security facility on Tantalus V) was interrupted by an automated distress call from deep in Salusian territory. It began as a squawk, somewhat abruptly, which, as Blaster pointed out, indicated that what had been jamming it had ceased doing so. Still, a distress call's a distress call, I always say, and we folded to the site within a few minutes. Apathy had been running pretty high when we set our jump, and I was hoping a little activity would shake us out of the doldrums. That seemed highly unlikely when we'd arrived, as whatever had been attacking the base -- likely Kilrathi, from the wrecked fighters we'd found -- had been and gone. We went aboard anyway, hoping to find something. After all, I didn't want Eiko to be bored on her birthday. Note for future reference: I must remember to be more specific with these rhetorical requests. Smalltime Writers, International in association with Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents a tale of Undocumented Features H A M M E R T I M E : D A Y S O F T H U N D E R CHANCE ENCOUNTER by Martin "PCHammer" Rose and Ben "Gryphon" Hutchins Martin strolled almost casually through the wreckage of the research base. If he'd bothered to notice, he would have probably been alarmed at how jaded he was becoming with death and killing. He'd walked past more than just a few corpses without so much as a moment's consideration for who they may have been. It didn't bother him. It should have. There was at least one thing that had his curiosity up. The number of dead Kilrathi wasn't it. The manner in which some of them had met their Maker was. He'd never made a point of learning any great deal about the types, makes and models of weaponry available -- to be frank, or even to be forrester, the subject bored him. He wondered how others could stand it. But even he could tell the difference between plasma-particle wounds and old-fashioned bullet wounds. Bullets weren't very commonly used in this day and age. And not a few of the cats had bullet wounds. Most with small, clean holes, but four or five with rather large, messy holes, the telling marks of a larger-caliber gun. Then there were the ones that looked like former test dummies for a Ginsu commercial. 'In Japan, the hand can be used like a knife.' But the end result doesn't quite look the same. How many people would take on a platoon of Kilrathi marines with any type of blade? And win? Questions, questions, too many questions. And not enough survivors, either. At this rate, the incident would just have to be classified as an aggressive act against the benevolent Empire of Salusia, and a rather pointless one at that. There was no real strategic value to this particular research base, and he had yet to uncover any item or information worth risking all-out warfare. He stopped. Sound. Breathing. Groaning. Finally, a survivor. He quickened his pace slightly, paying as much attention to his ears as possible. Doors in the hallway passed him. Not here. Not here. Not here. Not here. Not here. Not WHOOPS! His hand shot out, latching onto the frame of the doorway he'd nearly missed. He pulled himself into the room, remaining wary; he couldn't tell whether the survivor was friend or foe. Aside from a large pile of ex-ceiling-and-desk in the middle of the floor, and the sound of breathing, there was nothing here. Martin considered the pile carefully. He couldn't just start tossing its pieces around wantonly; if he disassembled it wrong, it would collapse on his intended rescuee. He picked up the first piece and tossed it aside. It clattered loudly to the floor. "Oooowwww," groaned the voice from within the rubble. "'Ey, keep it down out there! Cheez, my head!" That voice ... why is it so familiar? Martin hastened his work on the pile. "Almost there. Just a couple more pieces," he announced when that was the case. "I c'n hardly wait." The voice had an almost Brooklynish sound to it. Martin tossed a long support girder to his left, and another to his right. At last, he lifted a large, formerly-flat slab of metal, taking his first look at the base's survivor. He stared at her with a look of complete and utter amazement. Well, that explains why the voice sounded so familiar. The aged, gray sqirl, a Vindari Salusian, stared back at him, with something far less than amazement in her eyes. "Slappi?" he asked, just to make sure. "Well, lookee here, if it ain't th'Purple Avenger. What's with th'cape, Rose, y'look like a doorman in that getup." Dr. Slappi Sqirl, Salusia's most eminent cyberneticist and mostly-retired comedienne, and an old acquaintance of Martin's, reached down and grabbed her trademark personal effects; a beaten-looking old umbrella which doubled as a disguised disruptor, and a derby-style green hat with a single long- stemmed flower attached to it. Martin could immediately tell that she'd lost none of her edge over the years since they'd last met. If anything, her wit was sharper than ever. "I suppose I could ask you the same question, about the hat. Some things never come into style, you know." "I'll have you know this hat's been fash'nable f'r dodderin' old sqirls b'fore you wuz old'nough t'pick lint outta yer navel." She sighed. "Thanks f'r th'save." "Yeah, it's good to see you too, Slapparoonie." "Ehh, quit yappin' an' help me up, Batweenie." Martin slowly shook his head while assisting the good Doctor to her feet. "Oy. I tell ya, Sid," he groaned in a voice far older than he looked, "kids these days, dey ain't got no gratitude, ya know?" "(Oof!) Who you callin' a kid, punkweed? I was old when you -- hey, waitaminnit." She looked around skittishly. "Where's Hutch? You seen'im?" Martin, startled for a moment by her statement, also began looking around, though he knew there was nothing to find. "Hutch" was her nickname for Ben "Gryphon" Hutchins. "Um ... not for a couple decades, why?" "He was over by th'door theah when th'ceilin' fell on me. Where th'heck iz'e?" Martin transformed to his Rotofoil mode and began making immediate use of his internal sensor suite. Quickly filtering out the base's background noise and the sounds of the scientist beside him, he soon picked up something faint. ("help me ... oh, farg, this is a stupid *cough* way to die...") It was weak, almost a mutter. But it would most definitely do. He did his best to determine its direction. ("Slappi? Hey! *cough* You okay? Shit, I'm halfway across the station, she can't hear me... *cough*") "Well? I'm not gettin' any younger." Fortunately, Hammer resisted the urge to reply, "That's glaringly obvious, isn't it?" and remained all-business. "I'm getting a sound ... voice. Weak. And a heat sig. Fairly distant. Not moving." ("Of all the stupid... *cough* ...hey, asshole, didja hafta knock the crate on me when I killed you?") Martin transformed back to his human form and looked at Slappi. "I'd tell you to stay here, but you never listen to me, so I'll tell you to follow me instead." He could still barely make out the voice. His Rotofoil abilities had been slowly creeping into his human-form abilities, almost to an unwanted degree. If he had time later, he'd worry about it. ("Excuse me ... could somebody *cough* move this crate? I've fallen and I can't get up. *cough* That isn't funny any more.") Slappi nodded. "Rose, there ain't 'nuff wild kitties in th'galaxy ta keep me outta this." She brandished her umbrella. "Now lead the way, I'm right b'hind ya." Martin and Slappi made a decidedly peculiar pair as they moved through the metal-strewn passageways of the once-busy station. A dark shadow of living violet, towering seven feet above the light-gray sarcastic scientist following him, with hardly a word exchanged between them. Someday, they could laugh about it. For now, Martin kept himself busy pushing the larger pieces out of their way. Slappi'd already commented on that; she'd never seen him use his superhuman strength before. Something about getting him to help her move into someplace less demolished. It wasn't important. The voice Martin could hear, their sole guiding beacon at this point, was presently rambling. ("*cough* Well, first of all, Sam Waterson sends the spy guy in the Piper Cub over to Russia *cough* to the restaurant with the bad service...") He suppressed a groan. Not "Rocket Attack USA." Shiite, Gryph must be in really bad shape if he's trying to buoy himself with that. He picked up the pace. ("'Help me,' what the HELL *cough* was that supposed to mean?! And then there's the glorious ending...") Martin stopped abruptly, holding up a hand from under his cape and looking directly into a darkened doorway to his left. Slappi stopped close behind him, trying to follow his gaze. She could hear the voice now, too. ("And then the fat guy says to the woman with the poodle...") He strode into the room as silently as ever. The only sound made by either of them was Slappi's quiet footsteps as she watched from the doorway. This, apparently, was enough to get Ben's attention, as his narration paused. "And now someone's coming in. Oh, goody. Help. Are you a Kilrathi? If you are, then go away..." Ben directed as much of his attention as he could muster at the silhouette in the doorway. His vision was hazy, and he knew his senses were far from the keenest they'd ever been, but he still had no intention of leaving his hostess at the mercy (such as it was) of the cats. Of course, he was presently being crushed underneath a very large, very heavy box of Hamdingers. (Nobody liked Hamdingers, which is why the crate was still around.) This put him at a tactical disadvantage, what with just about all his ribs broken and floating. His left arm felt whole, at least, but it still hurt to flex it -- probably a fracture. What did he expect, he'd been shot there, after all. The figure at the door remained unmoving. The crate began lifting off of him anyway. Far be it from me to turn down such a gift, he didn't begin aloud, but I didn't see anyone come in. Oh, wait ... there's the feet. "Don't look like Kilrathi feet..." he mumbled. Tightening his grip on what could have been regarded by those less well-versed in swords as an oversized machete, he made an effort to almost sort of start to sit up and blink a little clarity back into his vision. The crate rose and slid onto another one just like it. Ben stared numbly at what he could make out of his rescuer, and wondered whether he should feel rescued or not. "Well, look what the cat declined to drag in," the shade's voice rumbled. "Ooh, scary," Ben replied, making a wholly unsuccessful attempt to stand. "I think I should warn you, pal, I know karate, and jujitsu, and several other dangerous-sounding words." At the sound of normal-level voices, the figure from the doorway entered quickly. "'Ey! You okay in there, Hutch?" "Slappi?" He blinked a couple times, trying to focus his vision. He realized, as a side thought, that his glasses were knocked off. They didn't actually help him see -- Omega-2 had taken care of that detail long ago -- but he liked the way they looked on him. "You okay?" He started groping around to locate them. "Ehh, I'm fine. How're you?" "Not bad..." His hand located something wire-framed. He grabbed it and put it across his face as he finally achieved focus. The left lens was shattered. Damn. He let the spectacles drop, and they skittered away. There, that was better. Depending on your definition. "Scratch that, pretty rotten." He shifted his gaze up to the first figure he'd seen, which was now clearly PCHammer. He still didn't know whether to feel rescued. "Look, I suppose it would be too much to ask for us to not fight?" Martin shrugged as Ben made another unsteady attempt to rise to his feet. "It's not too much for me ... though some of my friends might disagree, I'm pretty sure." Gryphon put his blade away, incurring some serious pain from lifting the arm to do so. "You might not have to worry about--*" His world suddenly became quite dark. Thud. Slappi looked down at Ben's fallen form. "Ehh, great. 'Ey, Darkwing Schmuck, help me get'im t'medical, willya?" Martin reached around Ben's prone form and began to lift. What he could feel made him reconsider his grip. "Cripes, he's mostly floating inside. I'll be as careful as I can..." His head snapped up, looking toward the wall. "Whuh-oh." "Whaddaya mean, whuh-oh? Dat ain't my fav'rit phrase, Rose." "My team's coming this way." "Izzat a problem?" He let the breath hiss through his nose. "One of them may be a bit ... unsympathetic ... to our patient here." "Ehh, don't tell me they bought that tinker-toy frame-up too. Geez. I thought it was just the general public that wuz that stupid." She moved toward the doorway. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care'a dem." Martin cradled Gryphon's broken body in his arms, lifting it as cautiously as he could. He could already feel more pieces slipping unwantedly within his burden, who replied with a faint groan, the sum total of his ability to express himself. "Thanks, Slap. He owes you one." Slappi turned back from the doorway and grinned, a particularly self- pleased grin Martin was more than a little familiar with. "One? Hah! You ain't been crashin' in my spare closet f'r th'past year." The little gray sqirl stepped into the hallway, stretched out a hand, and announced, "Hold it!" Eiko immediately began to pull herself into a halt. She was arriving hot on Martin's trail; though he usually worked alone to avoid putting his teammates at risk with his peculiar tactics and technique, he usually carried some method by which they could track him down, which would usually be coupled with something else that would tell whether or not he was alone. The moment Eiko noticed he wasn't, she'd led the other two members of her team, Danilia and Korren, to the site as fast as the three of them could manage. (She was under orders NOT to leave them in the dust, under ANY circumstances.) Noriko, Hanson, Nadia and the rest were back aboard the Indignation. The trio skidded to a graceless stop, nearly tumbling into a heap when Korren couldn't stop quite fast enough, bumping into Dani and pushing her into Eiko. Eiko managed to keep them all upright, however. "We got injured personnel heah," the old Salusian continued once she had their full attention. "Yer clueless leader's helpin' me get'em ta medical. You stay out heah; less risk'a infection dat way." Eiko nodded. "We should be able to help, then. Korren's a medtech." The naturaform Cheltari Salusian nodded, moving to one side of Eiko to get a better view. "Nah, I'll take care of it. These're my people." Danilia peered curiously at Slappi from Eiko's other flank. "Dr. Sqirl?" she said with a hint of incredulity. "Yeh, what's it to ya?" she replied sourly. Dani was slightly taken aback at the coarseness of the response. "Oh, I was ... just surprised. I've read about your work in cybernetics a little, but I didn't think I'd actually meet you." "Yeh, well, small universe, ain't it?" Slappi looked around for something, anything, to divert their attention so Martin could slip past. "Look, why don't you kids ... check out section six ... or somethin'." Slappi's condescending tone chafed against Eiko, whose unlegendary patience was wearing thin. "Are you a medtech, Dr. Sqirl?" "I'm a lotta things, kid. Look, I'd love ta stay an' chat, but I got people ta take care of, right? Now buzz off, willya?" That did it for Eiko. She could only stand the rude treatment for so long, and the attempt to brush her off completely was the last straw. With little but a grumble to acknowledge that she was committing a serious social faux pas, she stepped forward, took Dr. Squirl by the waist, and casually hefted the scientist over her shoulder as she proceeded into the yet-darkened room. "'Ey, cut dat out! Whaddayou, a forklift? Put me down, Robocop!" Dani and Korren followed the redhead and her blustering payload through the doorway. Eiko looked around, noting that this room was definitely in no better condition than any of the others they'd visited. She set Slappi back on her feet, still complaining vociferously about her mistreatment, as her eyes came to rest on the back of what, or, rather, who she'd been seeking. Her face brightened. "Hey, Diggy!" Slappi put a hand on her face. "Great. This's great." Eiko continued cheerfully, oblivious to Slappi's state as Martin turned to face her. He obviously had something in his arms. "What've you got behind your..." He inadvertently turned a little too much toward her, and Eiko saw who he was carrying. Her face lost all color. "You..." Martin swallowed. Hard. Eiko's gaze darkened. "You. ..." Danilia uh-ohed quietly. "YOU!" Eiko's face was a mask of uncontrolled rage. "Ungh," Gryphon said, feeling a need to contribute. Martin did his best to assume a defensive posture, but he knew Eiko could probably beat the life from him if she'd set her mind to it, even if he wasn't hampered with a limp, shattered body in his arms. "You BASTARD!" She took a step forward. "I'm going--" "*HOLD* IT!!" Eiko froze at the startlingly loud bellow. The fact that the tip of an umbrella was planted quite forcibly underneath her chin helped this decision by no small amount. "What--" Eiko started. Korren hadn't moved, but the shout had caused Dani to leap into the Salusian's arms. "Don't you take another step," Slappi warned in a dangerous tone of voice. "Listen up an' listen tight, kiddo. This guy's my friend, he's my guest, he's under my protection, an' if you take one more goddamn step I'm gonna knock you inta next month. You got dat?" Eiko, temporarily derailed from her quest to rip Gryphon's lungs out, moved her chin off of the umbrella to direct her anger at Slappi. The old Salusian's eyes held a fire she found all too familiar. "You would side with -- with THAT?!?" she sputtered. "Y'damn right I would. Now if you gotta problem with dat, you're more'n welcome to get the HELL off my station, right now. Unnerstand?" Eiko and Slappi locked gazes. Slappi's stare was steady and even; she meant exactly what she said, to the last word. Sincerity of that magnitude was something Eiko had to honor, and she didn't want to hurt the good Doctor. Yet. But the intent was clear. To get at the bastard, the sqirl would have to go down first. With a growl, Eiko whirled and hammered a fist into the wall, nearly relocating it to the other side of the corridor. Slappi did her best not to look surprised, but it didn't matter. Eiko wouldn't face her. "Fine. I _don't_ want to see you later, Doctor." She began walking out of the room, and Korren quickly gave her all the space she could want. "Eiko!" She inclined her head slightly to give Martin a dark look she reserved for her worst enemies, and hissed, "WHAT?" "We'll talk about this later, Eiko. This isn't over." "Damn straight." With that, she left. There was a sonic boom only seconds after she'd departed, as she ran for the Righteous Indignation at an average speed of Mach 2.4. Korren set Danilia back on her feet. "Well, that could've gone better." Slappi looked after her. "Hope I don't run inta that kid anytime soon. I'd hate ta hafta hurt her. Awright, show's over, kids. C'mon, Rose, medical's this way." The aging sqirl hustled herself out of the room with Martin close on her tail. Korren and Danilia nearly forgot to follow them. They were quite some ways down the hall when Slappi decided to start up conversation again. "'Ey, Rose. Kid's got a chip on her shoulder the size'a Santander V. Who is she?" "Oh, that's right ... you never met Eiko. She's a friend of mine from the Wayward Son. I met'er back in late 2026, a couple months after I was rebuilt." "She always like that, or is it biochemical?" "Only when she nurses a grudge. And she's got a rather large one, which is being misdirected at the present. Being the last known survivor of an entire planet can do that to you." "Yeah, guess so. Still, I'm glad she didn't push it. Seems like a nice kid under th'rage." "I always thought so," Martin said, suppressing a shrug for the sake of his cargo. "Anyway, this's it. Hope the cats didn't trash it too bad. Put 'im over there an' I'll get out the junk." Slappi proceeded to a cabinet and did so. Of course, being a cyberneticist by trade, she was only EMT-trained, and had little concept of just what she was looking for. Korren and Danilia arrived just as Martin was straightening Gryphon's battered form on the bed Slappi'd pointed out to him. Korren moved to assist Slappi, who was already beginning to feel she was in far over her head. "'Ey. Somebody wanna gimme a hand with this? I ain't a med, really, an' it'd put me in a real bad mood if'e kicked." This was the best she could do for a plea for help. "I'm comin', keep your fur on," Korren groused. "Yer funny, kid. If I was four hundred years younger, I'd tease ya f'r a while, then dump ya like a wet rag. Let's get t'work, huh?" "Yes ma'am, Dr. Snappi Coembakk, ma'am." Korren took less than a moment to snap a mockery of a salute before completing the gathering of materials. Slappi hobbled over to Gryphon's bedside, opposite where Martin and Danilia stood, mutely watching its lone occupant. "Cute. Eh, maybe I'll tease y'anyway. Yii." That last pseudo-word was a reaction to a touch of the patient's forehead, which was so pale that Death herself would look positively healthy by comparison. "'Ey, humans ain't s'posed ta be this cold, are they?" Korren placed his armload of equipment and medicines on a second bed nearby, placing his hand where Slappi's had been. "Nope. This is not good." Slappi backed away, throwing up her hands as Korren set to work in a frantic-yet-professional manner. "Shit, this's outta my league. I hope ya know what yer doin', kid." She waddled over to a corner, chafing inwardly and looking far more worried than she'd probably ever admit she'd ever been for anyone. Korren plugged the primary diagnostic unit into the wall jack, then into the bed jack. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when it actually brought the bed's panels to life. Nearly undetectable sensors and micro-injectors rose from within the bed itself. Beep. Beep. Beep. There was an uncomfortably long pause between the pulse rate indicators. Korren cursed inwardly, guessing Gryphon's heart to be beating at around 15 cycles per minute. Definitely not good. "Why am I always called in on emergency cases?" he complained audibly to cover for his worry. "Nobody ever bothers with simple checkups, oh, nooooo..." Slappi fidgeted in her corner. Dani put her arms around Martin, who stood like a statue. Gryph's breath rasped and gurgled. For a moment, one of the beeps started to falter. Korren's fur stood on end. Damn and fucking blast! "Aah, shit, I can't take dis." Slappi immediately sensed that that had come out more gruffly than she'd intended, but didn't feel like apologizing. Then again, she never felt like apologizing. "I'm goin'a my room." She hurriedly vacated the area, leaving her friend in their care. Korren continued to tap furiously at the bed's console. The slow beeping began to weaken, ever so slightly. Martin closed his eyes, feeling his stomach tie itself in a knot. You really would die now, wouldn't you, you Discordian bastard? A fine thing. Leave _us_ to clear your name _without_ you. Go ahead, see if I care. Because I think I do, and it's about time you found out. Suddenly, with only a second's warning, the beeping, still weak, became frantic. Martin's eyes opened. Dani squeezed him tighter. The beeping calmed. Gryphon was convulsing. "PISS!!" Korren was already turned around, working in a near-panic with an injector. The beeping stopped. "Hold him down!" Korren shouted. Martin did so; he was instantly putting his full weight on Ben, pinning his arms and upper body to the bed, though his legs continued to spasm. Korren dumped a stimulant into Gryphon's system. If this doesn't do it... The bed's speaker produced an odd squawk. It squawked again. Gryphon's convulsions calmed. There was silence for an eternal moment. Beep. It was faint, but definitely a beep. The next one was slightly stronger. So was the next. Martin relaxed as he and Danilia breathed a deep sigh. Korren wasn't so sure it was time to relax yet, though. The beeping continued to intensify. It seemed slow enough to Martin, but then, he really didn't know medicine very well. He only began to suspect something was amiss when, almost a minute later, he felt Ben starting to tense and shiver beneath him. "What the--" "Keep him down!" Korren commanded. Not about to argue the point, Martin complied. He was soon glad he did, as Gryphon's shivering became intense and violent. Without his assistance, Martin gauged, Ben would have done an excellent fish-on-dry-land impression, and probably killed himself again in the process. The paint-peeling screams he made while doing this didn't help Martin collect that hypothesis in the least. Korren made a few fast adjustments on the bed, and Danilia, panicked nearly to the point of tears, was crawling over another bed trying to escape. The bed's speaker was buzzing with overload as the beeping reached a crescendo that was only paled by Gryphon's shrieks. And then, as if at a director's cue, all was quiet. Quiet, that is, except for a normal, regular, healthy beeping, indicating a normal, regular, healthy pulse. Gryphon relaxed, breathing quietly and regularly with a calm face. He didn't look nearly so bad as he did just a minute ago. In fact, the only labored breathing in the room was Martin's. He gasped a few times as Danilia moved up beside him, fearfully curious about what was going on. "What," he finally said, "pray tell, was THAT?" Korren sighed, looking down at Martin, who was still sprawled over Ben. "What you just saw was a conscious, or at least subconscious, act of will on the part of our ... um ... friend, here." "I see," said Hammer, in a voice that clearly said he didn't. He rose to his full height, and Korren's gaze followed him up. "Apparently," he elaborated, "my stim shot woke him up and made him realize just how bad his condition was. A semiconscious reflex -- it's not fully understood -- can throw all the Detian body and mind's energy toward rapid forced repair. To be blunt, he dragged himself back from the abyss by his fingernails." Martin shook his head. "Now," he said with finality, "I've seen everything." He mimicked shooting himself in the head. Korren's eyes widened as he checked the bed's mini-log of the past several minutes. "Hokey shit! His blood sugar dropped SIX POINTS during those fifteen seconds. Damn! Better set him up a drip or something." "Maybe I could stuff a Pixie stick into an IV." Danilia wished she had a Nerf brick with her. Korren gave him a skeptical look. "I don't think that would work very--" He was interrupted by Slappi, who came running in faster than Martin had ever seen her move in her life. "What th'HELLS was that scream?!" Martin pointed to the bed. "That was Captain Melodrama, here, deciding he wanted to live." Slappi released a deep breath and slumped into a chair. "Shit. I'm too old f'r this." "You're never too old ... or too young," Martin replied quietly. "Heh. 'At's what he keeps sayin'." She jerked a thumb at her silent companion on the bed. "Rrgh." Maybe not so silent, after all. Everyone gathered around him as his eyes fluttered, then opened. They came to rest on little Danilia, who smiled into them. His voice emerged as a weak croak. "Hul-looooo, Nurse." She shook her head, glancing behind herself to Martin. "He's delirious." Martin ruffled Dani's hair a little, returning her smile. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Slappi took Gryphon's closest hand. "'Ey. You in dere?" "Hi, Slappi. Did we get 'em?" "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about dat." Ben looked up at the tallest figure there. "Hi, Marty. I suppose you're gonna kill me now." "Say that one more time and I just might," he replied. "Besides, Kei would never forgive me if I wasted you first." Gryph's expression immediately turned very unpleasant. "That's not. Fucking. Funny," he grated. Slappi squeezed his hand as he tensed. "'Ey, calm down, don't hurt yerself." Martin mentally logged his previous statement as Yet Another Poorly Chosen Phrase with a mental sigh -- his sense of tact was really slipping. "I know it's not. For the past twenty years, precious little HAS been." "So what happens now? Do I get a fake trial, or should I show myself to the airlock?" Gryphon winced as he worked to sit up. "Maybe you'd like to take me back to the civilized universe and parade me around the streets in a cage for a bit?" My, aren't we paranoid, Martin noted silently. "No," he said bluntly, pushing Ben back down onto the bed, "...you lie here." "They ain't takin' you noplace, Hutch," Slappi stated resolutely. "This here's Salusian territory. They got no jurisdiction." "Doesn't matter," Ben replied, giving up his useless struggle against Martin's firm hand, "they've got at least two tactical humanoid weapons. Where Marty is, Wonder Woman isn't far behind. Isn't that right, Marty?" Ben's poor humor was beginning to infect Martin, and the ill-timed nickname for Eiko helped quite a bit -- it was one she'd never really liked. "I'm ever so glad to see you have such faith in me, Benjamin." The sarcasm in his voice was tangible. "I lost just about all my faith in '88." And you blew no small amount at the time, too, Martin didn't add. "This old sqirl here is the only person I've found yet who's heard the story, knows who I am, and doesn't want my head on a tray." Ben patted Slappi's hand. "And for that I shall be eternally grateful. For however much longer my personal eternity is, of course." "As a matter of fact," Martin resumed irritably, "yes, Eiko _is_ here." "Great." Gryphon threw up his hands in a quick impression of Richard Lewis. "She's here. I'm dead. Why do I bother?" "Because she'll still have to get through me," Martin replied matter- of-factly. "And the good Doctor." Ben looked from Martin to Slappi, unsure just what to make of that. "Uh ... yeah." He slumped his shoulders. "I'm so hungry I could eat walnuts." "That can be arranged," Slappi replied. Danilia blinked. "Wow, that _is_ bad." "And could somebody shut off that damned beeping?" Ben groused. "Sorry." Korren gave the bed's console a tap, and it became silent. "Uh..." Gryphon suddenly realized there was something he didn't know. "Who's this, by the way? I don't think I know this fellow here, sorry. Hate to be notorious _and_ rude. Good to see you, by the way, Dani. But then, I said that already, didn't I?" He offered Dani a slightly tired, cockeyed grin, to which she giggled in reply. "Hiya, Gryph." She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Well," Martin opened, "my furry friend who's fun to be with--" Korren waved as Martin indicated him with a sweep of his hand "--is Korren. He's a medtech we've been carrying with us. Quite useful, really, and also the reason you can still ask that question." Gryph blinked. "Oh. So I should have said 'hello nurse' to you? Ummm ... pass. Will you take a simple 'hi there'? How about Salusian Express?" Korren didn't miss a beat. "Sorry, no plastic." "Oh, and thanks, too." He turned back to look at Martin. "I ain't touchin' the furry friend line." "Eh. Me neitha." Ben and Slappi both grinned broadly, finally feeling free to find humor in something. Martin's eternal smirk returned. "Wimps." "Well, I'm afraid I lost all my cash in the apocalypse. How about a Salusian Express Fugitive's Cheque? Don't run for your life without 'em." Martin waved a hand, dismissing the entire notion. "Sorry, but you'll have to take this one as a freebie. We're set for operating expenses for a while yet. Besides, I'd hate to have to explain it to Riko -- even I have to be accountable, if you'll pardon the expression, to someone." The almost unthinking reference caught Gryph's attention quite readily. "Riko? Noriko Takaya?" "The one and only." Ben allowed himself a part of a smile. "Well, it's good to know _somebody_ survived the end of the world. Then again, I guess out on the frontier, Indignation was pretty well out of the line of fire." Korren rocked on his heels. "Actually, it was ... rather grisly," he said quietly, trying unsuccessfully not to draw attention to himself. Gryphon raised an eyebrow. That familiar sinking feeling was returning. "Uh? What do you mean by that?" He propped himself up on one elbow to face Korren, wincing with the pain it caused. "Sorry, Gryph," Martin said apologetically. "Where Doomsday was concerned, the Big Picture was a lot bigger than just our little superdimensional fortress." "So the universe at large keeps hinting." Ben released a heavy breath. "Let me guess. Plants. A lot more of them than we anticipated." Korren didn't allow himself to meet Gryph's gaze as he spoke, covering the pain of the memory of his lost friends with a facade of irony. "Plants, alliances, mercenaries ... mix well and sprinkle with lethal weaponry. Serves six hundred." "Fuck it!" Gryphon struck the side of the nearby table, immediately suppressing the urge to yelp in pain. "There we were with our fucking Open Wedge mentality..." He slumped, dropping onto his back. "Maybe I do deserve this. I was the one who always insisted on keeping the security medium at worst, put so much weight on personal interviews..." He rolled his eyes toward Korren. "How many people did I kill?" Korren peered at him. "Unless I miss my guess here, you're taking this a little more personally than could possibly be healthy." "I don't know," Ben replied in his 'damn but I suck' voice. "I know very little these days. Whole fucking galaxy's gone to hell, and the more I see the reasons why, the more I think they come back to policy decisions I made, things Zoner asked my advice on. Personnel selection security is a prime example." He closed his eyes, letting his head shake slowly in frustration. "Christ, how we fought about that!" "Actually, most of the people we ID'ed as plants _had_ been through security. Some of them were even Eternal Knights. If you've invented a way to secure against that, I'd like to see it." "That's what I meant! Zoner wanted to make the personnel screening more stringent, and I fought him tooth and claw on it. Finally he backed down, and look what it earned us..." Ben sighed deeply, trying to ignore how his ribs shifted in response. "Aah, fuck it, it's over." Martin folded his arms. "I was wondering if you'd ever say that." "No, I mean, it's over. All of it. The galaxy belongs to GENOM now, and I can't run forever. I wonder why I bother? Sheer stubbornness is my best guess..." Ben sat himself upright, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. He was obviously if no shape to go anywhere, but equally determined to do so. "Look, if you're not gonna keelhaul me, I'd better get rolling before Wonder Woman rips Slappi's station apart looking for me." He began to sit forward. His progress was impeded by Martin's fingers against his forehead. "Slap, strap him into this thing, will you?" Martin said tiredly. "He's right," the sqirl concurred. "Lay down." "Slappi--" "Don't argue with me, Hutch. Lay down'r I'll knock ya down." The gesture with her umbrella underscored that rather nicely. "Yes ma'am." He returned to his back. "It's our funeral..." "Only if you keep pushing yourself like that." Martin's glare conveyed high levels of annoyance. "Hey, look. The last station I visited bit the big one because I was on it. I don't want that on my conscience twice, you know what I'm saying?" Martin kept his eyes fixed on Gryphon's. He had heard about McElroy Station, a minor outpost in the Niven Sector. It was rumored to have been demolished by "an unspecified 3WA team" about fourteen Standard months ago. Two years ago, Christmas, actually. "Don't get me wrong, I like Eiko ... but she's capable of greater depths of hate than anybody else I can think of. Even Kei. And with the kind of power she has, I'm not at all hesitant to admit that that frightens me. A lot." Martin sighed, dropping his gaze to his feet. "Tell me about it sometime ... like when I'm not worrying about it myself." He took a deep breath, then returned his gaze to Ben's. "Look, when Dani, Kor and I step out that door, we're going to be leaving Post- Haste. We're going to fold the Indignation someplace far, far away from here, and Eiko and I will have words on this subject. Lots of them." He drew a breath, and released it. "If I _can't_ bring her around, at least you'll be out of arm's reach. And I don't think she can operate a fold drive on her own yet." "Meanwhile, I sit on my arse here for ... oh ... three days Standard, at least ... and then move on. Am I right?" "Try t'make it a minute less, an' I'll put ya back in f'r another three." Slappi jabbed at him with her umbrella for emphasis. Dr. Sqirl's humor nearly brought a smile to Gryphon's tired face, but his attention soon returned to Martin. "I wish I could say something ... anything ... to her myself ... but at this point I don't have anything, and I'd never get it out anyway." "Well, I don't have anything either," Martin admitted, "but at least she won't rip my head off before I speak, so I almost have a chance." "Tell her something for me, would you?" "Sure." Gryphon's stare glazed over as he searched for something profound to say. Before he could come up with anything, Slappi intervened. "Ask 'er if a man who'd give'is life fer one old sqirl is a mass murderer. Think she's got enough logic center fer that?" Ben looked at her rather sharply; she shrugged at him. "Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em." Martin smirked at the old Salusian. Blunt to the last. Ben shook his head. "Pass that along if you want, but ... just tell her this." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Tell her that I'm not giving up, and I'm not letting anything stop me ... and that before a century has passed, she'll be in the front row at my wedding. Tell her that." Martin nodded solemnly, then smiled a positively evil smile. "I'll see to it you're held to that promise, Ben." "And one more thing." Danilia began fishing around in the pockets of her jacket. "I have a notepad in here, somewhere." "No, this is the last thing. If you get a chance ... tell Noriko I'm sorry ... about the personnel thing." He sighed. "You better go." Martin looked across the bed, to Korren. "Does he need you anymore?" "No, he's all set. Just get him to stop hitting things and he'll be fine." "Okay then -- come on, you two. We're getting out of here." He began moving out of the room, but stopped to regard his old friend once more. "Gryph ... contrary to everything you may think, it's good to see you." "Yeah ... yeah, you too." He offered a tired grin. "Bye, Nurse. Thanks for everything, um ... damn, I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name. And thanks, Marty. 'Til all are one." Martin smirked. "Speak for yourself. I'm waiting for the matched set." "Oh, by the way ... if you need to reach me for something..." Ben paused and arrived at a quick decision. "Look on New Japan." Martin nodded. "I'll keep it in mind. Take care of yourself, for a change." "I'll watch 'im 'til'e leaves ... after that he's on'is own." Slappi turned toward the departing group. "Seeya'round, Rose. It's been real, but that cape's gotta go. Stop by again sometime. An' bring yer cute friend there." The smirk turned wicked. "Which one?" "Ehh, eitha one. At my age, can I afford ta be picky?" Her grin matched his smirk. "I'm not touching that one." "Eh, like I said. At my age, who will?" Her grin widened, if that's possible. "Gidouddahere, Rose." With nothing more than an I'll-Get-You-For-That-One look in reply, Martin transformed around Danilia and Korren and whisked them away. Slappi waved after them for a moment. "Eh, that Rose ... he's a good kid, but he don't know when ta quit when he's ahead." "But he wasn't ahead to start with," Ben grinned tiredly. "Heh ... good point." She pointed her bumbershoot at Gryphon as she wandered out into the corridor. "You just lay there. I'm gonna go make ya some'a my Walnut Fig Dough Surprise." "I can hardly wait..." Martin breathed a sigh of relief as the Righteous Indignation emerged from its spacefold. At least _some_body was safe, for now. "Fold operation complete," Nadia reported unnecessarily, turning from her bridge station to face the Captain's chair. "Now maybe you can tell us why we've just launched ourselves into the boondocks of the United Galactica." "I'd like to know, too," Noriko seconded. Martin sighed again, not feeling at all relieved this time. "Okay. Just try not to react until I'm done." Can't happen until you start, Dund pointed out. Martin lowered his head. "Gryphon was there." Nadia whirled around. Without so much as a word, her fingers flew, calculating a return fold off the top of her head. She was nearly finished when a pencil flew between her waist and her arm, neatly striking the Cancel key with its eraser. "I never saw anyone give you the authority to pardon him," she grated, pounding her fist on the console. "Nor the authority to execute him," he snapped. "Which is precisely what will happen if we go back. Won't it?" Nadia fumed silently. She _hated_ it when he was right. "Please, try to understand," Danilia pleaded. "He couldn't have done that. He couldn't!" The engineer folded her arms. Even for her, Dani's "Pretty Please Mode" proved consistently impossible to brush off. Hanson stifled a chuckle -- it was one of the few things he'd ever known that could take Nadia off her guard. "Okay, okay, I'll admit it seems far-fetched even to me. Three hundred years of sterling service, and suddenly blowing the heads off of little kids ... sliiight inconsistency." "Where'd you find him?" Tom asked. "Under a rather heavy crate of Hamdingers." What the hells are Hamdingers? Dund queried. "I have no idea. But it doesn't take a very large box of 'em to weigh a few hundred pounds. Gryph's rib cage was decimated. Combine that with the wounds he took in the base's defense--" "And how do you _know_ he was _defending_ the base?" Nadia broke in. "Oh, I found someone to collaborate his story. Well, to tell it, actually, since he lost consciousness and damn near DIED right in front of us." "Died?" Martin shrugged. "He got better. Thanks to Korren." The Salusian took a bow as Danilia applauded. "Back to the point, please," Nadia interrupted. "Just who was it who told you he was acting in the base's defense?" "Its only other survivor, of course -- the eminent Dr. Slappi Sqirl." Nadia blinked. "Oh. Okay, I guess he's clean. But that still doesn't explain why we're in BFE." Martin pushed himself out of his chair. "That, my dear Mrs. Davion, is something I'll tend to right now. Face!" A window opened on the main viewscreen, occupied by the image of a dashing, slightly mischievous-looking young man with perfectly-groomed, dirty-blond hair. "You called, boss?" "Happen to catch where Eiko went?" "She's down in the gym -- in the weight training area, right now. Doing quite a bit of damage, even for her, I should point out." Martin released a deep breath. This definitely didn't bode well. "Thanks, Face. I'll take care of it." "Or she'll take care of you." The window vanished. Nadia nodded. "He's right. When she's mad, she can be impossible." Martin looked back at her. You have no idea, he said silently. "Still, I can't let her go on like this. If we ever come across him again, I know nothing'll stop her." He turned toward the lift, but felt a gentle tug at his arm. "Please be careful, Marty." He took Noriko's hand in both of his, looking directly into her eyes. "I'd have it no other way, Little Angel." She gave him a quick kiss. He stood and muttered something that Dund was sure had to be "It's been a good life, I guess," before going through the doors to the lift. "NGRRAAAAAAHHH!!" Though it had no literal translation into Standard, the roar would have been readily interpreted by any sentient being with a sense of hearing: Go Away. It was soon followed by the sound of metal wantonly torn and warped as one of Eiko's custom two-ton medicine balls formed yet another new opening in the gymnasium's wall. Fortunately, the gym was deep in the interior of the Righteous Indignation, so there was no threat of a hull breach. It was with no small amount of trepidation that Martin entered the room. "Eiko?" he half-whispered. He immediately dodged a set of dumbbells thrown at him. "I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!" "Please, Eiko." He caught a fully-loaded barbell, using it as a weighted bo as he deflected a hail of other objects thrown at him, all rather heavy. She definitely intended, at the very least, to do him great bodily harm. "LEAVE ME ALONE, TRAITOR!" He looked into her eyes from across the room. "Interesting choice of words ... Agent A-K0." The implied reversal of her accusation made her pause. "My dealings with GENOM are OVER! You know that!" "Never doubted it. So what's your problem?" "My PROBLEM?" she seethed, unable to believe that the question could be asked. "My PROBLEM is that YOU think that BASTARD deserves to LIVE!" She threw the exercise bicycle she was wielding to one side, smashing it against the wall, and paced slowly towards him. He strode forward as well, tossing the barbell aside. "And you're so sure he doesn't that you'd kill him yourself." "Damn straight! If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't BE like this in the first place!" Martin stopped abruptly. He'd never been sure just why Eiko was so angry with Gryphon. He decided to find out why. "So you think it's all his fault. That the WDF would still be whole if it weren't for him. One homicidal maniac destroyed it all." Not that he believed the 'homicidal maniac' part, mind you, but he wanted to make sure she would hear him out. She snorted, stopping when Martin was just within arm's reach. "If only it were that simple. Can't you see? When that fucking abomination happened on Musashi, it was just the start! It all fell apart! The whole damned Wedge Fucking Defense Force was held together by the most unstable people in the Quadrant!" She stepped forward, hooking her hands on his shirt and hoisting herself up effortlessly to snarl in his face. "Oh, yeah, Largo had 'em all figured down to a tee! Gryphon snaps, Kei goes psycho, Yuri falls for his line and Zoner bails! Largo played the whole damned lot of 'em like CHEAP PUPPETS! And IT WAS EASY!" Martin didn't have time to reply before Eiko dropped to the ground to resume, pacing away from him, gesturing wildly. "The foundation of the WDF was nothing more than a collection of human JELL-O MOLDS! Why should we have to tolerate such inane weakness? And if we ever DO manage to pull it all back together, they'll just come BACK and BEG for forgiveness so they can just FUCK IT UP AGAIN! Well, I say, NO MORE!" She whirled to face him. "The Galaxy would be a better place if none of them were in it! And it WILL be a better place when they AREN'T!" And all was silent, save for Eiko's breath. Martin regarded her carefully for several long heartbeats before speaking; he tried to beat down the urge to start barking at her, knowing his temper was more than ready to take the helm in this exchange. "You believe everything you just said?" His voice was quiet, but forceful. "Yes!" she snapped in reply. "You believe that it was that particular combination of people that led to the WDF's downfall?" "Yes!" "You believe any other group of people would have been less susceptible to Largo's scheming against them?" His voice rose a bit, for emphasis. Eiko paused as she met his stern gaze. "Well ... yes." "You believe that if anyone else had been in charge, the WDF would still be whole, Largo would be destroyed, and we'd all be happy and dandy?" he quizzed insistently. She looked down. "Well..." "You believe YOU could have done better?" His voice came out harshly. Her eyes leaped back into his gaze, startled. "_What_?!" He opened his mouth to speak again, raising his hand in an accusatory gesture, but stopped when he realized that his anger had just taken the wheel. He let out a frustrated breath and whirled to leave. "Oh, NO you don't!" Eiko barked. In the blink of an eye she was across the room, blocking his path. "You're not going to throw around shit like THAT and walk away!" "Eiko, please--" "Forget it! You aren't getting out of here until you _explain_ that little snipe!" "I don't want to start a shouting match!" he barked testily. "Well, it's a little _late_ for that, isn't it?" "Well, I guess it is!" "So go ahead and throw another one at me, you self-righteous ass!" "'Self-righteous'? HAH! This, from the woman who's set herself up as judge, jury and EXECUTIONER of the Wedge command staff! Yeah, you're in a GREAT position to talk, A-K0!" "Don't even START with that!" "Why NOT? You want some time to RATIONALIZE the fact that YOU were an even BIGGER dupe than the REST of them? So you can EXCUSE how BADLY Largo took YOU for a ride?!" "NOW *JUST* A DAMN MINUTE!" Eiko roared, wide-eyed. "What gives YOU the right to point to ANYONE and say they have to DIE because they were TRICKED?!" "Nobody DIED because of *ME*!" "How would YOU know?! YOUR job wasn't to report on the Wedge TECH, but on its PEOPLE! The Force was TORN DOWN by its OWN PEOPLE! Doesn't that *TELL* YOU SOMETHING?!" "I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THIS BULLSHIT!" She whirled and began stomping away, her small feet making noticeable dents in the metal decking. "OH, and when she CAN'T make a good EXCUSE, she RUNS AWAY! *JUST* *LIKE* the MAN SHE WANTS to KILL!" "SHUT UP!" "Why, YES, of COURSE, how COULD I have been so BLIND?! She's PERFECT for the job because she *KNOWS* WHAT IT'S LIKE to FLEE from the *TRUTH*!" Abruptly, Martin found himself hoisted up off the floor. "SHUT *UP*, DAMN YOU!" Eiko shrieked as she whirled and threw him with all her infuriated might. He slammed hard high into a wall, not far from one of the holes she'd made earlier, with a cross between a loud metallic thud and a dull crunch. Inertia held him in place for a long moment, and then he toppled down and dropped to the floor, lying sprawled and still and leaving an ugly red spot on the wall above. Eiko stared at his silent, bleeding form in mute horror as her heart pounded in her ears. She began backing away when he stirred faintly, accelerating when he fell motionless again, and whirling and breaking into a full run by the time she was at the door. She rushed down the hall, sprinted three levels up an access tunnel to a deserted level of the ship, and flew around two more corners before stopping. And there, with the assurance that she was alone, she fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands, and cried. "...oh diggy, i'm sorry ... i didn't mean to ... i'm so sorry ... mitra, please, not again..." With a light tap of her finger, Noriko shut off the intercom viewer. She leaned back in her chair in the New Ready Room, staring icily at the now-blank video screen, steepling her fingers and silently reviewing what she'd just learned. 'Agent A-K0'. Interesting. Her finger found another intercom button. "Takaya to Korren," she announced with a voice any bystander would have found alarmingly calm. "Korren here," he replied momentarily. "You'd better get down to the exercise room, stat. Their discussion didn't go very well for him." He sighed. "Got'cha, Skipper." With the silence restored, Noriko returned to her contemplation. Her warm, brown eyes narrowed with the cruel thoughts behind them, and her angelic countenance twisted with a cold, wicked smile. _Very_ interesting. Korren sighed, scratching behind one ear as he regarded the sleeping form of his newest patient. Medical scans showed he was a rather lucky fellow; despite several fractures and even a couple breaks, internal bleeding seemed to be far below what he'd've expected for any other member of the crew. Still, Martin may have been many things, but he wasn't Detian -- this injury would likely leave him laid up for a couple months, at the very least. Once the Tarawa came back, Doc could give him a look-over and maybe recommend or perform something a bit more intensive -- Doc was, after all, a full physician, and notably more capable in the medical field than Korren. Come to that, the Salusian continued to muse, we're set to rendezvous with the Tarawa in a few hours. If we let them in on everything that happened back at Dr. Sqirl's base, we'll likely be in for another scene like the one with Nadia an hour ago, only I somehow doubt there'll be any flying pencils this time. He sighed one last time. He'd done all he could for Martin, for now. With a quiet admonishment of "Don't go anywhere" to his yet-unconscious commander, he strolled through the doorway of the treatment room. The door whisked shut behind him. After several long, silent minutes, it whisked open again, and a new figure stepped toward the room. Eiko paused in the doorway, her bright scarlet hair tossed recklessly about her head, her deep sapphire eyes reddened from tears. Her gaze immediately locked onto the still form on the bed. Her resolve to see him wavered, but only for a moment; she stepped through the portal and tapped the door switch, and it obediently slid shut, leaving the two of them alone. She walked gingerly up beside the bed, stared at its status display for a moment, and was visibly relieved that it indicated a stable condition. She took the room's only chair, pulled it up beside the bed, and seated herself; taking the bedridden fellow's hand in both of her own, she leaned forward, resting her cheek on his knuckle. She sat this way, silently, for nearly a half-hour. "Diggy," she whimpered, her voice faltering. After a moment's hesitation, she started again. "_Marty_ ... I ... I'm sorry. You know ... I never meant to hurt you ... I just ... what you said, just..." She choked back a quiet sob, and continued. "You were right ... damn it all, you were right. Largo ... Largo played me for a fool ... an even bigger fool than any of them. It's ... I've never wanted to have to face that ... that it all could have been _my_ fault ... I was the one who told him what he needed to know ... to bring it all down ... and then you said what I've always known was true ... and I just ... I..." She sobbed more fully this time. "...and I tried to run away ... I've always tried to run away ... but ... but you can't run ... from the truth ... can you?" She closed her eyes as her tears ran sideways down her face, dampening the back of his hand. "The truth," his voice muttered, "will always catch up to you." Eiko lifted herself up from his hand and looked over into his eyes. They were open now, just slightly, and they were smiling at her. She could only stand to see them for a moment before squeezing her own eyes shut and turning away. "I'd like to apologize, too," he mumbled weakly. She dared to crack an eye open toward him. "F-for?" "For everything," he sighed. "I didn't say those things to you for their truth value. I said them because I was mad ... and I knew they'd hurt you. I went down to talk, and we ended up yelling at each other; it's as much my fault as yours that it came to that." "No," Eiko replied, shaking her head. "No, it's not." "Yes, it is," he stated, his voice growing noticeably stronger as he spoke. "Nothing forced me to try to turn your anger back on yourself -- I let my own anger get the best of me." Eiko sighed. "Maybe. But y'know what?" "What?" She smiled to him, the last of her tears still scurrying down her full, round cheek. "It worked." He reached up slowly with his hand, catching her tear with a finger. They watched each other with quiet smiles as he gently brushed it away. She sighed deeply, pushed the chair back, and stood. "Well, if you'll pardon me for a moment, I have to go clean up the mess I made of the gym." He lifted his hand toward her again, palm-up. She paused to regard it, wondering what he meant by this gesture. "Ohhh, no," she chided when she realized what he was asking. "I heard a really gross crunching sound when I chucked you into the wall -- you're too full of broken parts to be moving around." "Please, Eiko." "You'll just hurt yourself!" "Please ... trust me." She knit her eyebrows at him, but his hand still waited for her. With an exasperated sigh, she took it and began to pull. "I hate it when you do that puppy-dog-eyes thing," she growled. "Look, I'm a puppy, barkleven*owowow!*" he started to Jerry-Lewis, cutting himself off as his broken body complained loudly about being righted. "Ow, ow, ow, ow ow ow," he continued, grimacing as he took to his feet. His back was hunched forward, and his legs slightly bent; his arm was propping much of his weight on Eiko's shoulder. "_Now_ will you lie back down?" "Need ... open space," he grunted. She blinked at him. "Open space?" "Two meters ... around ... at least." Eiko gave him a quizzical look. "Are you _sure_ you want to try that?!" "Worked ... last time." "You weren't in this much _pain_ last time, either." "Please?" With a shrug and a sigh, Eiko left him quakingly standing as she pushed the bed over to one side. When it was against the wall, she hopped up on top of it. "Okay, you're clear. But I still say you're making a mistake." "If this doesn't work," he grated, more to himself than to her, "there'll be Hell to pay ... both for me ... and for Ben." He tried to straighten his posture, only partially succeeding. His ankle twitched, springing him upward, and the crack in his pelvis became extremely vocal. As his voice sounded a piercing howl, not entirely unlike a cat with a brick on its tail, his body twisted, folded, bent, whirled, reshaped, and transformed, the usual sound of reconfiguration drowned out by his grotesque shriek. The end of the process was marked by a loud CLANK as the resulting pyramidal vehicle dropped a half-foot to the floor. Eiko took her fingers from her ears and released her held breath. "Crom, that sounded awful." "Aaauugh," the Rotofoil replied. "You don't want to know how it _felt_." "You're right," she replied bluntly. "I don't." The machine rose up off the ground on its hoverlift and quickly transformed again, this time without the nasty screaming noise. When it was gone, Martin was standing in its place, wearing his "dress jumpsuit." As Eiko pushed the bed back into place, he checked every joint and pivot-point in his body that he could think of -- shaking his legs, stretching his arms, arching his back, twisting his neck, twitching his fingers, rolling his shoulders, even wiggling his nose. Eiko watched his physical self-test, drumming her fingers impatiently on the edge of the bed. Almost immediately after he'd finished, the door whisked open and Korren entered. He brought himself up to a quick halt when he saw his patient standing on his own two feet. "What do you think you're doing?" he finally asked, lacking anything more sarcastic to say. "Defying medical science, my good man," Martin smiled, looking terribly pleased with himself. "Only because your condition hasn't been precisely classified," the Salusian shot back. "I've read a few interesting theories, though, particularly in HiQ's book on cybernetic conversions." Martin lowered a thoughtful eyebrow, making a bemused sound through his nose. "You know, I've always meant to pick up a copy of that book. Never have, though." "You should -- he actually theorized that you'd be able to do what you just did. I take it this means you're not going to stay put for observation, though." "You may observe me at your leisure, Korren ... but not lying around down here." He offered a hand to Eiko, who accepted it and hopped down from the bed. "If I were still here when the Tarawa got back, there'd be no end of questions." "You don't think they'd give him the benefit of the doubt?" "In some people's minds," Martin said with a pointed glance at Eiko, "there _is_ no doubt. I'd rather not have Gryphon's tombstone say 'He Trusted One Man Too Many'." Eiko defiantly folded her arms over her chest. "I'm still not convinced he's innocent." Martin nodded. "I wouldn't expect you to be, Little One. You can be pretty darn stubborn at times." With a hand on her head and a light ruffle of her tousled hair, which made her chuckle in spite of herself, he added, "It's one of the ways you remind me of myself." Tarawa caught up with us at the rendezvous point we'd set up beforehand. I took Thom aside after the initial debriefing, and let him in on the more interesting of our discoveries at Slappi's base, the one piece of information we were most careful to keep under our hats. He appreciated our need to keep it confidential; Captain Fiske Morgan is a Musashi native, as it turns out, and could have had the Tarawa on the scene before Gryph could get off, and before anyone could even think to stop him. This way, at least, he lives ... for the time being, he has his chance. Hope he can make good of it. It's strange, though ... all through the briefing, Noriko was giving Eiko the most disturbing looks I've ever had the displeasure of noticing. Does she really think that poorly of Eiko's insistence that Gryphon is guilty, or is it something else ... and if so, what? Great, another question I know I don't want the answer to. Just what I've always needed. You know, I just realized -- I never gave them Gryph's messages. Well, as Mako would say ... same old Hammer. -- The High Diggy-Hoek of Chihuahua-Wala Land (or Martin Rose, if you must) --------------------------- mfrose@umcc.umich.edu --------------------------- Truth is stranger than Fiction ---------------- Stupid is a boundless concept The Limbaugh Institute for Advanced Conservative Studies: Ann Arbor Division