A Matter of Fact: Chapter 1 (parts 1 – 3)
By Camospam
August 12, 1998. Highway 16, Northeast British Columbia
The nondescript black sedan appeared to be nothing more than your typical passenger car; that is only if you consider the style of vehicle used by most every police department as looking like a normal vehicle. Upon a second look you might notice the 3 antennae and specialty wheels sticking out like a sore thumb, but the inside’s are where the differences really become obvious, the comprehensive communications package included eavesdropping onto local law enforcement, a satellite linked computer station, the back seat partitioned into a prisoner holding cell including restraints for the type of cargo MCO field agents often had to contend with, but the show stopper was the state of the art onboard 360 surround surveillance recording system. This car was the new MCO prototype undergoing field try-outs from Goodkind Industries Research and Development Labs.
The driver: Agent Anderson, was connected, he was the reason a backwater office like Prince George had one of the best cars in the entire fleet, he had been posted to “PG” to keep him away from the public eye - at least until the dust blew over from that debacle at Toronto which that accursed mutant Decimal had caused. When getting shipped out in a hurry he was told that he was a hot potatoe that needed some cooling off, he was being deployed to gain more field experience and “PG” was so close to no-where that he would be out of the limelight. Anderson was family to some of the top brass in the MCO, his star would shine again - he just had to wait it out.
Agent Parson rode shotgun and had dozed off five minutes ago, ‘can’t hold his liquor’ mused Anderson, they had stopped at a watering hole to celebrate capturing Polaris, she was rated as a level 3 exemplar mutant and had been evading the MCO for years after manifesting, the PG office received a hot tip from a Humanity First informant who had spotted her working at a road construction site. Anderson chuckled how they’d surprised Polaris in the porta-potty literally with her pants down and that little situation made her capture easy. Parson came up with the idea, ‘man he could be a bastard’, but as partners go he was a keeper. Anderson was learning a whole new world of bringing hurt from his sadistic mentor, they would both revel in sharing the accolades for ‘handling’ Polaris – it might even bring a promotion, to Anderson’s thinking maybe even be his ticket back to the big leagues.
Agent Anderson took a quick look behind him: Polaris was secured in the back seat, still unconscious from the 2 stunners Parson had hit her with. Her take down was easy but not without incident, level 3 exemplars don’t just rollover and she had tried to escape them, but she was now confined by wrist and ankle bracer cuffs rated for exemplar 4’s. Parson figured tying her arms and legs together with a chain then running it through the floorboard bolt would keep her placid, uncomfortable as hell because she couldn’t actually sit, but who cared about her happiness.
Besides; it wasn’t like Polaris was going to make it back to the office… no! they had a location hidden just off the highway and a special bullet that would take care of all their problems, standard MCO procedure as the manual describes it.
The day was taking a toll, a yawn escaped from Anderson as he pulled out to pass a transport truck.
It really didn’t register immediately to Grace that she had been in an accident; since she was just regaining her senses from the high voltage shocks that she had taken earlier, the violent crash only sped bringing her out of the mental fog. The MCO had snuck up on her in a most embarrassing fashion while she was working as a first aid attendant on a major bridge rehabilitation project, she didn’t have a good chance at running and was taken down with the stun shots, heck they hadn’t even needed to use a capture net.
She found herself hogtied in the backseat of a damaged car, anchored to the floor having her arms and legs bound together by chains, she tried to strip the bindings but couldn’t break free of them, however the chain which was keeping her arms held down by her legs snapped quickly enough to at least give a little movement, with a swift kick the car door burst away letting her wriggle out of the mangled vehicle.
The scene was disturbing even for Grace’s EMT training: head on accidents are the worst. The car was still mostly intact which means it must be a tank, scanning the devastation around her she assessed who would need her help most: the driver was undoubtedly dead as a decapitated body didn’t need first aid, the cars front passenger was limp but the chest was rising so he was alive. Looking over what remained of the other vehicle, its debris was scatted over a large portion of the highway, probably an RV from what little she could identify.
Grace was not able to move very well at all with her legs in restraints, at best she could waddle. Nearby someone moaned in the wreckage, Grace spotted a mass that looked like a rolled-up body sitting in the remnants of a chair and she moved towards it, a cursory inspection showed it to be a man who was not alive; the shard of metal protruding from his back was a trauma that had pierced his heart. However, held within that cocoon of flesh was a child, as a last act the parent must have tried to provide a shield.
Grace slowly unwrapped the child working clumsily with what her still bound hands could do, the child: a little girl 12 or so years old, made whimpering sounds. Polaris did a quick exam and tried to calm the young girl, comforting her by saying “You’re going to be okay”. To Grace’s surprise the question “Promise?” came from her patient, with a heart-breaking look into the girl’s soft blue eyes Grace stated “Promise!” and then continued searching for injuries finding a broken leg but no bleeding, no neck or head trauma either. Grace gently scooped up the small figure and turned to begin the shuffle to move her to a safe spot to start triage.
Grace felt the burn of a bullet tear into her shoulder and immediately dropped into a crouch making a smaller target, she heard 4 gunshots with the last shot whistling wide but striking a propane tank causing it to explode. A ball of flame shot overtop of Grace who saw a piece of shrapnel stream past her - hitting the agent that had been shooting, the gun waivered then dropped to the ground shortly followed by the MCO agent himself, a pool of red growing around his now prone body.
Grace started to move again, the scene was even more dangerous with the spot fires around her, a few yards away she found a clear space and set the girl down, she used her cooling effect by touching her shoulder “a bullet shouldn’t hurt this much” she said mumbling aloud.
“Must’ve been one of those ‘mutant tamer’ rounds. Heard the MCO was testing them for the Goodkind’s”.
The voice startled Grace, she turned her head to see a pair of cowboy boots and jeans beside her, craning her neck up she looked at the trim figure of a man about 6’5” in a checked plaid shirt and baseball cap.
“Do you have an emergency kit?” Grace croaked out.
“Right here” he said handing over a medium sized satchel with a red cross emblem on the side “I have some blankets if you need them.”
“I can keep her warm, but my attention is divided, can you help?”
“If you’ll look after the girl, I’ll put a bandage on your shoulder”.
“I’m regen 2, so wear gloves”.
“On it, the names Marcus Johnson, or Timbre if you have that bent”.
“Grace Watson, my MID says Polaris, any possibility you could get these cuffs off?”
“I’ll have look in a minute once I get this bandage wrapped, how’s the kid? She a mutant?”
“Too young to have manifested, she came through the accident with some injuries, but it looks like she just took 2 bullets”.
“Not good, those ‘tamer’ rounds are supposed to be coated with poisons meant to drop a mutant, no clue what would happen to a baseline”.
February 11, 2007.
Elsewhere
Cameron walked happily down the path as it followed the meandering stream, it was the focal point of the vast garden and her favorite spot. Holding the hand of her mentor and friend he motioned them over to their frequently used bench overlooking a small cascade, they stopped which lead to a serious expression spreading over her teachers face.
“Cameron, it’s time to send you back home. Your training is done and your assignment awaits. You’re going to be facing some challenges and changes, don’t let it effect your outlook!”
The world around her faded from bright to grey then darkness.
Prince George Long Term Care Centre
The black void that enshrouded Cameron grudgingly released it’s hold and gave way to flashes of light as awareness crept slowly back into her, it felt like awaking from a really deep sleep when your body objects to being stirred before it’s ready to let go of peaceful slumber. The first sense to begin supplying information was smell which caught the heavy scent of cleaning agents reminding Cameron of the hallways before first bell at school. Not having the benefit of additional sensory input from sight and hearing it left Cameron confused ‘why would I be at school? It’s summer holiday, there’s no school!’
Lying still wishing the world would make sense Camron began a physical assessment. First up; her ears detected a rhythmic beeping and a slight hiss, she found her breathing was difficult almost as if it was being forced plus a very unpleasant feeling in her throat, that caught her attention and in a spark of panic a realization hit ‘HOSPITAL!’. The monitors beeping spiked as it followed Cameron’s heartbeat as it took off like a chased rabbit, alarms sounded in reaction to the surging vital signs - which only startled Cameron even more. Then everything went quiet again as Cameron returns to the grey she only just left.
February 12, 2007.
The activity in the room hits pause as Doctor Amanda Carter enters with three men in tow: the first being an older man in his mid sixties holding a well-worn hat and an overcoat draped across his arm, his rumpled wool sweater giving a grandfatherly appearance but the serious expression carved onto his face speaks of a heavy heart. The second man is dressed in a casual yet professional manner with a sports coat and dress pant ensemble, his attire a contradiction between serious and fanciful as his tie is a tartan affair that does not ‘go’ with any know colour shirt - but works with the white shirt he wears, with the top button undone and the tie hanging slightly off kilter he comes away with a look of being relaxed and personable. The third man walks with measured strides, the freshly pressed black tailored suit crying out power but the way it sits on him has an unnaturalness … like a snake with shoulder pads.
Nurse Johnson scans the visitors and has an involuntary shudder before speaking, she straightens her back and holds a stiffness like a solder under inspection. “Doctor, the patients heart rate has remained steady after yesterdays event, brainwaves remain consistent with REM sleep all other vitals all holding”. Grace tried to limit showing just how scared she was: not so much for herself but for the fragile girl unconscious on the bed before her.
Dr. Carter was brought in hurriedly from Vancouver when a young coma patient had briefly awoken, Amanda was renowned for her work with patients recovering from comas and head injuries “Very good Grace. Please stay in the room and continue to monitor her, you’re also needed to act as a witness during this deposition”.
Grace Johnson nodded in understanding.
The older man brought out a small tape recorder from inside his overcoat and as he turned it on he placed it onto the wheeled table beside Cameron’s bed.
“This is the deposition of Alexis Cameron Burke, the date of February 12, 2007. I am Judge Gordon Wilkins, Court of Queens Bench, Province of British Columbia. Each person present will please identify themselves” spoke the judge in a clear and authoritative voice.
“Public Prosecutor Michael Roy Williamson “chirped the tartan clad man standing at bed side.
“Bartholomew Sigel, representing the law firm: McAvoy – Arnold - and Strong” claimed the suited man at the beds foot.
“Doctor Amanda Carter, specialist with Vancouver General Hospital” was calmly spoken from the opposite side of the bed from the Judge.
“Grace Johnson, Head Nurse, coma care ward, Prince George Long Term Care Centre” announced Grace seated behind the Doctor.
“Doctor, you mentioned that the patient has not gained consciousness, but has shown a heightened mental state resulting from an improved physical condition. Can you provide some details? “asked the Judge.
Amanda quickly weighed how much information needed to be given. She had spent the last few hours reviewing her new patients case files, scrutinizing every detail. The opinion had been that the girl would never wake up, her condition would worsen and in less than a year be taken off life support. This case was already referenced in medical journals and scientists had begun staking claims on conducting post-mortems. Buying herself time she picked up and reviewed a rather large chart before speaking towards the recorder “Alexis has been in a comatose state since August 12, 1998. She was 13 at the time, she was admitted after a motor vehicle accident suffering from 2 gunshot wounds, a broken leg, fractured pelvis and three cracked ribs, along with internal damage to: abdomen, kidneys, liver and spleen, all a result of being shot”.
“This is not relevant to these proceedings, and cannot be allowed on record” asserted Mr. Sigel.
The Judge in thinly veiled outrage spoke “Mr. Sigel, the very nature of why we are conducting these proceedings was the forceful claim made by yourself in demanding no further action in this case could happen until a statement was obtained from Miss Burke. Being the only remaining witness to the whole affair you’ve demanded that a fair outcome depends solely upon her testimony, your contention that she not be coerced or prejudiced against your client has meant that she cannot receive the medical attention she needs until we are concluded. I have only allowed this deposition to take place in the hopes it helps Miss Burke in the long term, but as this is a serious infringement of her rights which only benefits your clients - she is going to have it on record what you are forcing the court to do and what her medical condition is while it happens” barked the Judge.
The lawyer did not even flinch from the tirade, he wasn’t here to play nice, for him you didn’t win by being nice (Why didn’t the kid have the decency to die like it was supposed to. Just focus on damage control, at least there’s no photos) thought Bart, the nickname his inner sanctum called him.
“Nurse are CCTV cameras catching all this?” asked the Judge.
“Yes your Honour, three cameras capturing all angles in the room” replied Grace pointing to the little black domes inset into the ceiling.
“Judge will be fine” replied the old man with a smile.
(Just a little inconvenience, this is why you bring home the big dollars, to fix little inconveniences) inclined Bart.
“Doctor, can you explain her treatment so far, and her current condition? “asked Mike Williamson.
Amanda swallowed hard and read the file “At the scene a First Aider bandaged the bullet entry wounds, minimal blood loss occurred. The left leg was splintered and torso immobilized. EMT’s noted that the patient was unconscious upon their arrival, the patient was transported to Prince George General. Emergency stabilized the patient, scans showed the first bullet having entered and exited the abdomen, the second bullet struck the neck lodging into the spine. The left leg was aligned and put into a cast. Amanda opened another folder to describe her patients current condition: Miss Burke has healed from the abdomen wounds; Kidney, Liver, Spleen and Stomach are able to function normally, injured ribs and pelvis have healed, her left leg has healed with complications, the bullet remains lodged in the neck positioned against the spinal cord. A surgery to remove the bullet could be attempted once the patients physical and mental condition is assessed although there is a high risk of paralysis, monitoring of brain activity has been ongoing and indicates higher cognitive functions are intact.”
“Are you prepared to wake Miss Burke?” asked the Judge.
“I must protest, we know nothing about what her mental capacities will be. If she has even the slightest sense of awareness the emotional damage this girl could potentially be facing warrants a psychologist to be present, and family services should also be in attendance since she has no family present” interjected the good Doctor.
“I have been assigned to act as guardian by the Province, until Miss Burke has been assessed” supplied Mike “And she will be provided the best professional help possible once we learn what head trauma was sustained”.
“Please Doctor, administer the stimulant. The sooner this is done, the quicker we can get her help” the Judge added with a tremble in his voice.
Amanda nodded and slowly - methodically attached the biofeedback wires to Cameron’s recently shaved head, picking up a small hypodermic needle she preparing a spot on the girl’s stomach, the Doctor gently inserted the needle. Within moments the heart monitor picked up an increased pulse and a shallow moan escaped Cameron’s mouth.
Amanda took the chair and moved closer the girls face, and ever so gently asked the questions she was scripted to:
“Alexis can you hear me?”
“mmmmm huu”.
“Can you feel me squeezing your right hand?”
“huu ha”.
“Can you open your eyes?
“Ughmmm”.
“Are you trying to open you eyes?”
“nnnngh”.
“Try opening your eyes?” a slight flutter of the eyelids ensued.
“Doan wanna”. Those simple words sent a shock wave across the room. That the girl would have any mental capacity left was contrary to every other instance that had been recorded.
“Why not? “Amanda asked, trying to hold her focus to the moment.
“They hurt”. Affirmed by the effort to force her eyelids closed.
“Can we turn the lights down in here?” questioned the Doctor, the overhead lights shut off darkening the room with just a bank of side lighting remaining.
“Alexis, could you try opening your eyes for me again?
The right eyelid lifted revealing a glazed over blank white eye, a few blinks later and with effort the left eyelid opened halfway and seemed to stick overtop another blank eye. A glow of near golden light started from a dim ember in her eye sockets until it brightly shining from both of Cameron’s eyes, the room was bathed in light cast from twin spotlights originating from her eyes.
(MUTANT!) Bart just about yelled aloud.
“Hospital?” Cameron managed to squeak out.
“Yes dear, I’m your Doctor; Amanda. There is a man here named Mike that needs to ask you some questions”.
“eugh” was an honest but involuntary response from Cameron.
“Sweetie, you were in an accident, I need to ask you some questions. Can you tell us the last thing you remember” Mike asked in a hushed tone.
“Beeping… lots of beeping”.
“Before that maybe?”
“Driving with family”.
“Driving with your family in your car?”
“nnh, no… in a motorhome” Cameron was having difficulty forming words, her mouth felt stiff and her tongue was sluggish.
“Who was driving?
“Mugh…mom”.
“What do you remember about the drive?”
“Lots of trees, pretty valley. James got to sit up front with Mom”.
“So where did you sit?”
“Me an Opus sat with Dad in the back, think I feel asleep”.
“Who is Opus?”
“My pet penguin”.
“Did your parents have anything to drink that morning?”
“Coffee”.
“How do you know?”
“Made it for them, it was my turn to make breakfast …. Dad has it black with two sugar… Mom likes milk no sugar”.
(There goes the impaired angle) mused Bart becoming visibly agitated.
“Were you with them all morning?”
“Uagg, Dad had a shower in the camper, he sings badly”.
“And your Mom?”
“She got to sleep in until Dad started to sing”.
“When did you leave the campground?”
“Dunno, maybe 9 or 10, trying to make it to Jasper Park in good time”.
“Who was driving?”
“Mom, she always drives, Dad has bad eyesight”.
(Another dead duck angle) Bart was starting to put mental x’s beside all the failed strategized arguments the Firm had so far used to stall the case.
“The camper was a rental right?”
“Yeah, Dad got a deal through work, he said it was brand new, looked like it had never been used.”
“Was it running alright?”
“Mom said it was fun to drive and ran like a top, better than her school bus”.
(The bad driver argument was lame anyway since she had a professional licence, but faulty mechanical had been promising) as Bart added another 2 x’s to the list.
“Doc, is it right that I can’t turn my head?”
“Try not to move just now dear, I can help you in a minute once Mike is finished” replied Amanda.
“Alexis, do you remember the accident?” queried Mike.
“Only people that don’t know me call me Alexis, where’s Mom?”
“Honey, please tell us about the accident, then we can explain”.
“I don’t know much, just some screams, I was in a lot of pain, a pretty blonde lady picked me up, more pain, and then… then I’m here!”
“Thank you, sweetie. We are going to leave you with Doctor Amanda, I will come back and visit you soon” choked out Mike as the realization hit him full force of the anguish and suffering that this girl was now going to face, and he was angry couldn’t prevent her being treated like a piece of meat instead of a fragile little girl.
The judge picked up the recorder and lead the group out of the room, only the doctor remaining inside. Once down the hallway in a quiet alcove the Judge stopped and addressed the two lawyers.
“I am going to drop my schedule, we will meet in my chambers Wednesday February 15 and schedule the trial date, I will entertain no more delays Mr. Sigel your firm has had over 5 years to prepare”.
As the three men headed toward the exit, Mike Williamson’s attention was caught by a discrete gesture from Nurse Johnson. Mike excused himself from the group pointing towards a washroom and held back as the others left the building.
Amanda Carter was not prepared for answering all the questions the girl was undoubtedly going to ask, with waking her up the Doctor had at best hoped for a patient that had minor cognitive ability like reacting to light and sound, other incidents with those bullets had left severe mental impairment, being comatose was the most humane outcome. But now this girl coming out of an almost 8-year coma due to those banned chemicals: with full alertness, sharp if not vivid recall, clarity of reasoning … stunned was putting Amanda’s feelings mildly. This was one for the books - but first a whole lot of tests are going to need to be done including looking for the meta-gene to explain those eyes, she began mentally constructing a team of additional doctors to bring in to help with recovery.
Cameron sat quietly in her bed trying to soak in all that the Doctor had told her; it was beyond comprehension and she sat in disbelief - dispondant, a little girl left alone in a great big world. Tears were rolling freely down her face, hearing that her family was dead - wasn’t it just an hour ago that they had all been laughing and singing? Sure Dad couldn’t carry a tune but he liked good music, he would laugh and smile and gave the best hugs, James her brother was a brat at times but he was funny and an easy tease, when her thoughts turned to her Mom she started to sob uncontrollably, her heart – her world - her life had been shattered.
A gentle knock at the door brought Cameron back to the now. Standing in the rooms doorway was an attractive woman, looking to be in her late 20’s with long blonde hair, she had a weak smile reflecting the nervousness she felt. Not that Cameron could actually see all that, her vision was more like a cross between an x-ray picture and an MRI image in real time, the skeleton was overlaid with muscles and tendons, she could see blood coursing through veins and arteries and the lungs expanded as they filled, this was hard to take since Cameron had always been squeamish around TV shows that showed anything medical. Now this was her view of the world? Looking again she could see the hot and cool zones on the body, next the scene was overlaid with geometric shapes with distance, height, and assumed weight. Cameron shook that aside for the moment and welcomed the visitor into the room.
“Thank you. For saving my life, and being my protector” said Cameron with her head bowed as far as its limited range of motion would allow.
Nurse Grace Johnson stood in silence propped up by the door frame for a moment, she entered the room closing the door then sitting in the bedside chair, slipped her hand into Cameron’s, Grace gently responded to the bedridden girl “Your welcome … how did you know?
“When you picked me up you spoke to me telling me I was going to be alright, I recognized your voice”.
“My name is Grace Johnson, I’m a mutant so some people call me Polaris, what shall I call you”.
“Friends call me Cameron; I guess I need to come up with a cool mutant name”.
“No hurry for it Cameron, you don’t even know what your powers might be, but did you know the light from your eyes flickered just now?”
“I was trying to focus on you, and it was like my vision shifted, kinda like putting on a pair of glasses.”
“Describe what you saw?”
“At first you looked like a skeleton but with muscles on it. Then you were just an outline: your middle was red then it went to oranges and yellows, but your hands were blue. Next it was all lines and figures... tell me; are you 5’9’ tall and weigh a hundred and …”
Grace cut in “You won’t be finishing that question if you know what’s good for you!”
Cameron smiled and nodded her head stiffly.
“Are you in pain?”
“I seem to have a pain in my neck” Cameron tentatively reached up with her free hand and clasped it feebly around the side of her neck “that’s better” she said as she brought her hand down revealing the bullet in her palm.
Grace stared for a moment, calmly rose collecting a plastic bag and placed the bullet into the bag sealing it up “I had one of those in my shoulder that I had to dig out, it still hurts”.
Cameron motioned for Grace to lower her shoulder into reach and she then placed her palm over the wound, as soon as she had touched Grace she pulled her hand away with a small bullet fragment in it, presenting it to Grace.
“How did you know where it was?”
“I saw it” pointing towards her glowing eyes “did it hurt much?”
“Everyday” muttered the nurse.
The two talked for a long time, Grace asked Cameron about her family and home – then told Cameron her own life story, describing how her hot and cold mutant powers worked, that she too was also in the accident, how that was where she and Marcus met while taking care of Cameron and them eventually getting married. That both of them had escaped years of MCO pursuit but managed to finish school to become a Nurse, then arranging to work where Cameron was placed. Before leaving Grace promised to introduce Marcus and left for the night saying she would be back tomorrow.
Bart Sigel sat in his luxury rental car, he had driven a short distance from the Care Centre before stopping to ponder what options he had available. His instructions had been to ‘control and contain’. Till now his plan of ‘stall, deflect and hamper’ had been ideal but the lawsuit was taking some unfortunate turns: that damnable bullet should have ended the kid’s life - or made her braindead, it was workable if she was a vegetable, now she was awake and talking! The media could make hay on this if the story got out. This case was the one that had made his career; it’s why they nicknamed him ‘Black Bart, legal gunslinger’, the annual retainers coming in from the MCO and Goodkind Int. alone made the company a fortune, this whole mess had nicely been buried deep for almost 8 years but now everything was starting to unravel, he needed to make a fix - fast.
He speed dialed the number loaded onto his cell phone, it was his offices backdoor access into the MCO, no names were spoken and no questions asked, Bart simply said “Send in the Clowns” the phone connection ending, Bart queued up his cd of Mozart’s Requiem Mass in D minor and drove away.
February 13, 2007, 2:00 am
Ryan Coddet (aka Codfish) allowed his vehicle to drift silently to the side of the road, he was 2 blocks away from his target but needed to limit attention, he had been assigned to tail and support a lawyer which meant rushing to catch the same flight from Vancouver to PG and then keeping tabs on him. Now word came from that lawyer how he needed a hard target to be disposed of. Ryan was a killer; a trained assassin turned mercenary and now member of an elite team under MCO control.
His sensei said that sometimes a single death at the right time could save a hundred lives later, if you happened to make a few bucks doing it … he had no complaints, but since this was a mutant he’d be willing to do it without pay – not that his boss needed to know that.
Ryan cautiously walked the short distance to the building, he easily evaded the security system after tricking the staff doors electric lock. A slow creep down the hallway hearing a few snores from the sick and elderly residents silently brought him to the room and his assignment. The door eased open, the room was dimly lit as he entered and moved over to the stand holding an IV drip, he drew a syringe from a pocket - inserting the tip into the tubing and froze.
If he had a choice Ryan would have preferred a kill like twisting a neck or driving a knife into juicy flesh, even a sniper shot has a degree of satisfaction, subterfuge just didn’t give that thrill of seeing the life fade from someone’s eyes and that shock of realization that they are dying. No, poison was a distance kill - giving separation and anonymity, it just didn’t feed his thirst for a good kill, oh well … maybe next time! All he had to do was depress the plunger and leave, its just that he couldn’t seem to move, not just his finger either, his whole body would just not move - not even a little.
Suddenly the room was lit with a golden light that tracked everywhere the girl looked, Ryan fell into the beams of light resulting in the girl reaching over and touching the “Call Nurse” button, seconds later a nurse entered the room.
“Please call the police” asked the girl of the nurse.
Ryan was like a statue, unflinching, shallow breathes with eyes darting about frantically.
In just a few minutes an RCMP officer arrived and began snapping photos with a camera. The officer stepped up to Ryan grabbing his arms which surprisingly lowered behind his back despite Ryan’s desire to fight, the officer placed handcuffs over his wrists, a second officer entered the room with a gurney onto which his frozen frame was unceremoniously dumped. Ryan was then wheeled away to have his rights read and begin what was sure to be a long interrogation.
When Grace arrived into Cameron’s room, she immediately came over and hugged Cameron tight, then with concern written over her face asked the girl “Are you okay?”
“Fine, and you?”
“That’s all you’ve got for me? after I watch over you like a hawk for years, you catch an assassin red handed, and all you have for me is ‘Fine!’” the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
A giggle fest followed along with a full accounting of details: how a man snuck in in the dead of night and tried to add poison to her medicine, that she managed to interfere with his motor functions which froze him in place so the police could arrest him in the act. They both had a full out laugh over the photo the police left with Cameron sticking her tongue out at the guy. Grace mentioned how the entire Centre was talking about last nights’ commotion with rumours ranging from a drug bust to a murder, it seems a police take down with lights and sirens at a retirement home doesn’t happen often… at least not at two in the morning.
Cameron’s day was spent talking with every type of Doctor they had a title for; exams, tests, being poked and prodded, scanned and photographed, lots of questions but no answers. However, the day had been informative for Cameron as each test helped her gain more control and movement into her fragile body.
That evening Marcus stopped by; a great guy in Cameron’s estimation, he and Grace made a perfect couple. Marcus or Timbre was a siren which was rare in guys, plus he could do sound effects and ventriloquism, as well as having a minor rating as a gadgeteer - which went nicely with the electronics business he owns. Marcus left Cameron with a ‘loaner laptop’ which confounded Cameron for a long time until she was able to layer her sight thereby manipulating it in a way to read the screen, eventually she found text was do-able – and with further adjustments could kinda ‘see’ pictures, but video was too much to ask. However, since she had found a combination which let her read; it was a marathon of soaking up information to make up for lost time, it was into the small morning hours before Cameron slept.
February 14, 2007
The day started online with Cameron signing up to take remote schooling from BC’s Ministry of Education, they said it might not take long; maybe only a day or two, in order to verify her identification and get her school records and curriculum in place.
More Doctors appointments and beginning physio therapy to get her seriously atrophied body moving again had priorities on the days’ schedule.
By the time Cameron was returned to her room she was tired but overjoyed to find out that she was now a student enrolled in grade 8, just where she was going to be before ‘certain stuff’ had delayed her, she dug into her dinner with vigor – asking if she could have seconds, worked the books for 2 hours before allowing sleep to call an end to the day.
February 15, 2007
Judge Wilkins sat behind his desk baffled by what he just heard, The Prosecutor: Mike Williamson, had just asked the court to allow a postponement, a first for this case that has dragged on for nearly 8 years, citing that the Defendant needed time to review new evidence that had become available after years of dead ends. It seems that eyewitnesses stepped forward and had given testimony including audio and video evidence from the scene which had come to light, 2 bullets recovered, and a hired assassin captured. Adding this to the girl’s deposition no wonder Mr. Sigel looked a touch green today.
“I am granting one week, be in my courtroom February 22.” The obvious objection coming from Mr. Sigel was cut off by a sharp glance from the stern Judge.
The Judge was watching out his window as Sigel was arrested on the courthouse steps, his curiosity was piqued but decided to keep distance to let the system do its job, he would get answers in a week and if anything - he was patient.
Amanda Carter steeled herself before entering the room but gave a cheery wave to Cameron as she walked into the room “How are we feeling today?”
“Can`t speak for you, but I`m alright” chirped Cameron.
“Interested in hearing your test results?”
“You bet. Do I get the good or bad news first?”
“How do you want it?”
“Mary Poppins says a spoon full of sugar helps?”
“I’ll go easy on you then” Amanda confided as she commenced with her report.
“You my dear, are the proverbial 98-pound weaklings best target to steal lunch money from. Your body growth stopped when you went into the coma, you are 4’8” tall and weigh 53 pounds, we will have to see if you stay this size or start growing again, physically you are 13 – legally you’d be 21. The bullet you removed from your neck did not do permanent damage to your spinal cord and you now have full motion. The light your eyes emit is within the spectrum of daylight but shifts intensity according to the field of view you have chosen, you only seem to be able to add three layers at a time which adds to the brightness your eyes shine. Your body is responding well to physio letting you gain strength and range of movement.”
After a brief pause the Doctor continued “How you removed that bullet is still a mystery: the testing we could conduct came up negative, we have asked for some help from a specialist on teleportation as well as a scientist studying density manipulation.”
Amanda took a breath and looked Cameron in the eyes “Your blood work shows no trace of the meta-gene complex; which means you are definitely not a mutant, and another thing discovered in your blood is an odd hormonal imbalance, you are actually male.”
If Cameron hadn’t already been in bed - she would have fallen over.
The human body is a truly remarkable devise, if too much pain is felt or senses are overwhelmed: shock kicks in and masks the overload. Cameron was not able to cope with the news she had just received, and at that moment Cameron was oblivious to the world around her, her mind was stuck in continuous playback: flipping the words “he/she” around like a shiny coin. Emotional upset fueled her turmoil which in turn gave the coin yet another toss: ‘I don’t want to be a guy. I like being a girl. Don’t know how to be a guy. Girls are friendly, they talk and smile. Guys are mean, hit each other, and grunt. I don’t want to hit anybody – I can’t be a boy.’ Cameron watched the coins’ flash for a long time: ‘After everything that’s been taken from me: must I lose myself as well?’
Eventually she came to a realization: The coin had two faces but it was the same coin! It didn’t matter being male or female, she would be the same person - just showing a different face and would have the same value… her biggest worry had been how she would be failing her parents, however in recalling memories of her family she knew they loved her little brother almost as much as they did her, she would always be their child. The hurt from missing her family caused tears to roll down Cameron’s face as the shock ebbed.
Looking up Cameron discovered that Doc Carter was gone. However, sitting across the room in a wheelchair was an older lady, she had peeked in the door a time or two before but this was the first time she had entered Cameron’s room. She was clad in a frumpy housecoat and knitted shawl, plus Cameron was sure she saw slippers with bunny ears which brought on a smile.
“Hmmpff, what have they got you in here for?”
“Sleep disorder and binge dieting. You?” Was Cameron’s playful reply.
“Terminal flatulence” shot back the smirking woman – Cameron’s Mom wouldn’t resort to saying fart either.
“Must’ve had the cabbage last night” mused Cameron.
That warranted a chuckle from the senior, “You’ll fit in fine around here, this the room they pulled the body from?”
“Yeah, but to be fair it was self defense … and he wasn’t dead”.
“Thief?”
“Assassin”.
“And your eyes?”
“Would you believe I lost an argument with the Energizer Bunny?”
“I’m figuring mutation”.
“So had I… but the Doc says ‘no!’”
“You dangerous?”
“I can’t even get out of bed!”
“Neither can ‘Old George’ down the East wing, but I wouldn’t turn my back to him”.
“No, not dangerous, unless a good taunting counts?”
“Honey, around here your facing pro’s that would make Don Rickles blush”.
“Huh?”
“Whoops, dating myself. No kablooie?”
“All good”.
“Names Annie”.
“Cameron”.
“You a boy or girl?”
“Yes”.
“Come again”.
“Another one of those things I thought I had figured out but the Doc says ‘No’”.
“Well Hon, my Fred always said ‘tomorrows another day that the cows need to be cut and the grass milked’”.
“So; he was a poet?”
“No dear, a mechanic. But I think he meant: the worlds just slightly mixed up. We need to make the most out of each day, at least that’s what I get out of it.”
“So I shouldn’t get too down on myself cause life is going to continue anyway?”
“You’re a sharp one, I can see I’ll need to keep an eye on you.”
“You the hall monitor or something?”
“Yeah, that and Welcome Wagon, Peacekeeper, Ombudsman, Town Gossip… I might be retired but I’m not dead.”
“So, you have todays scoop to feed the rumour mill?”
“That, and a new friend. Sorry dear I gotta run, I’m late for a game of cribbage, catch you later?”
“Anytime Annie, and thank you”.
Amanda was smiling as she held the door for Annie to wheel through. Cameron hadn’t seen when the Doc had showed up – or how much of the conversation she had caught, but when she asked “You okay?” Cameron responded while opening her laptop “I’ve got some grass to milk”, which was acknowledged with a thumbs up and a smile.
Cameron had put a couple hours into her schoolwork, it was surprising how much easier it seemed to be from when she was last at school. Information she read just seemed to make sense and it would just pop back into her head doing review. Before in school math might as well have been a foreign language, now it all just meshed… no doubt something else to get the Doc’s excited about.
Leaning back into the beds stacked pillows she closed her eyes to give them a rest, Cameron felt a switch get thrown, her vision went blurry until it adjusted onto a panorama akin to a solar system with planets rotating around the sun. This was something completely new which left Cameron surmising she now had a new pair of glasses that needed getting used to. Examining the vista that her eyes beheld it seemed familiar somehow ‘it’s an atom!’ recalled Cameron from a science textbook showing how the electrons circled around the nucleus. She continued watching the microcosmic dance until a realization came: ‘Iron’. She moved her focus to the left resulting in the atom following her movement ‘oh! that’s freaky’, she backed away from the single atom to a view that now encompassed hundreds of various atoms, a bit further out thousands appeared, next – millions of them. At this point she opened her eyes and the wonder before her caused her to gasp.
In her sight items now had shape and form instead of seeing just outlines of everything and skeletal frames of people which she had so far learned cope with. However, now she could see defined three dimensional representations but colour was based upon the majority of the element or elements present. Cameron remembered how her Mother had books of famous artists and their masterpieces, on rainy days they would huddle together under a blanket and marvel at the pictures, impressionists being her favourite.
The tears that escaped from the corners of Cameron’s eyes contained not sadness or pain – just pure joy. “If I get to see this everyday, life is good, very good indeed” Cameron said to nobody, to everybody.
Cameron’s attempts at describing what she could now see was to have you picture a Picasso painting in a kaleidoscope and times that effect by a thousand.
The entire world Cameron knew had just changed again and she needed to explore all that now unfolded around her, this newfound sight was overwhelming due to the complexity it revealed since it ranged from the microscopic to the telescopic. From across the room she watched a fly eating a crumb it had scavenged, her sight granting access to every tiny detail of the small insect’s anatomy.
Her attention turned to the book that sat on the wheeled table in front of her, she hadn’t yet started to read it but could see that the novel was two hundred and sixty-seven pages long, but the printing jumbled together with the pages being laid on-top of each other the printers ink blending into a single blob. Deepening her vision to isolate a singe page and separate out everything else she could narrow the field of scope so she could read it.
Doing intense scrutiny with her vision highlighted a problem: she had no focus on what was happening around her, to use her sight like this would leave her completely exposed and vulnerable. To a scared lonely kid who had just lost family and friends and all things familiar this ability was a curse - it afforded no protection whatsoever. Cameron couldn’t control the shivers of fright that took over and pulled the blankets tight as she laid back, hoping… praying that this might yet only be just a bad dream.
Cameron slept for a while since it let her dream about her mother and the comfort she always gave in those little things like a touch or a smile, waking was the nightmare as reality stole her family anew. Laying quietly in bed Cameron meditated on her family, tracing their faces not wanting to let any detail slip from memory. It was while she was deep in her thoughts that something nagged at her awareness, there was something different about her ‘home’, turning her attention from the family portraits she discovered the addition of a new staircase that lead up to landings and doors - Cameron mentally climbed the short set of stairs to the first landing which had a little door: it opened into a small void no bigger that a closet.
Looking up the stairs she discovering there was at least a dozen similar landings and doors each holding different points of outlook. She attempted to investigate each, seeking to determine what the new vista behind a door might contain, it took some guess work to finally arrive at the conclusion these doors opened into other dimensions. How could anyone be prepared to look out to other worlds, she could barely comprehend the one she lived in. But curiosity being what it is she explored each from the safety of the doorframe and looked into the unknown beyond. The third doorway stymied her until she put a glass of water into this pocket and was shocked to see the splash from moving the glass stopped … as if frozen, when she retrieved the glass the splash finished its motion. Cameron puzzled over this for awhile until deducing the dimension had height, width, and breadth but didn’t have time, looking deeply she noticed that the molecules did not move – held motionless in stasis.
After her explorations, she mentally labeled some of the discovered dimensions: the easiest one to reach had been the smallest so was just called the Cupboard, Storage was the space without time, the Warehouse was an immense void that defied measurement, the Reservoir was a series of hallows that would work nicely to hold liquids, yet another was fairly small but was so brightly lit she called it the Sunroom. Inwardly Cameron rationalized ‘I better not tell people about this, at least until I figure it out more.’ Cameron was becoming adept at keeping secrets, she didn’t want to be exploited, underplaying what was possible and minimizing potential would hopefully keep her safe.
Cameron continued practising with her sight and looked outwardly around the Care Centre; it was disconcerting to be able to look through walls and see people walking around quite a distance away, but when she added her depth indicating layer it began to make more sense and be less disorienting. That layer also showed a graph which had meant nothing at first until she’d been looking at Grace with it, the graph climbed showing the amount of energy within Grace and tested it further on Marcus which had the same result. With resolve, she returned to that one doorway that was dimly lit, it looked like a forty-watt bulb trying to illuminate the Grand Canyon, staring at the small glowing ball of light and using the energy graph: it registered being just slightly above the bottom markings. This had to be her own energy supply – her battery, she just knew it needed to get brighter, how to do that was a mystery: one that she would have to solve another day.
Turning her attention to the loaner laptop Marcus had left for her, the deep scratch in the aluminum cover elicited an idea. She keyed in on the metal and “asked” the atoms to move in and fill the gap. When she ran her fingers over the cover it was perfectly smooth - she no longer saw any difference, ‘This is too cool!’ she checked her battery which had decreased in intensity only minutely so she commenced to experiment with other items in the room, within minutes everything looked shiny and new, even the depression in her mattress was gone which brought a smile to her lips. Cameron had discovered she didn’t actually need to have an item directly in view ahead of her to be able to see it, since her peripheral vision allowed her to “see” all around; but the dizzy feeling she got meant she wasn’t able to truly focus unless it was in front of her, plus the lack of security being “focused” created.
As Grace entered the room something was different, everything was the same - just… not. She brought with her a monitor on a wheeled stand, of course it had the obligatory wonky wheel like every shopping cart at the grocery store. As she took in the room trying to pin point what was off, Cameron’s mischievous grin was telling that she was right to be suspicious.
“Whatca doin?” asked Grace.
“Fixing the world … one wobbly wheel at a time” just then the stand stopped vibrating and tracked smoothly beside Grace.
Grace pointed down to the stands base “Did you just?”
“Yep”.
The next half hour was spent with Grace chasing around the Centre searching for broken items. Cameron took up the challenge: fixing things almost the instant it came into the room. However, when Grace brought in a large television set on a rolling tray Cameron stared at the box for a prolonged period. Cameron compared the working laptop against the broken TV, and “saw” the electricity moving along inside the machine. She could trace how the electricity flowed thru the switches, circuits, and drives to energize the computer. Turning her attention back to the TV she likewise tried to follow the path of the electrical current as it moved along the grid of wires until finding a section in the circuitry that was damaged and stopped the flow. Changing perspective, she found the fault was some components that had burnt out and melted the solder, Cameron “asked” the molecules to align themselves, shortly the TV screen lit with an infomercial selling kitchenware.
“It’s alive” claimed Cameron.
Grace didn’t say anything, just stood twirling the wall plug end of the TV’s power cord.
Cameron was distracted and the TV turned off “that’s kinda weird”.
Grace nodded her head in agreement and added “I’ll see if Marcus can stop by tonight, he might have some ideas”.
Grace returned the TV and minutes later a cheer was heard coming from down the hall.
Cameron was told about some appointments arranged for the next day, Grace saying that one was with Doctor Amanda who needed to monitor her brain, which meant Cameron’s head needed to be shaved – it wasn’t as if she had much up top – only some stubble had grown in since awakening from the coma. Grace applied the shaving cream and while doing so poured in some warmth and gently massaged her scalp. When the razor came out Cameron started to loudly hum the Barber of Seville recalling the Bug’s Bunny scene.
Grace bent down beside Cameron’s ear “I liked you better when you were unconscious” eliciting a burst of giggles from Cameron to match Graces smile.
By the time Grace had finished they both were humming the tune, Grace ended up saying “I’m not going to be able to get that out of my head for a week!”
Lacking a witty comeback Cameron used the essential fallback of sticking her tongue out.
Grace next started to massage Cameron’s legs, using a little heat and cold to work the muscles deeply.
“Oh! that feels wonderful”.
“Marcus says I missed my true calling becoming a Nurse”.
Watching Grace rubbing, seeing the changes from orange to blue with her vision, Cameron asked “Do your hands become hot when you use your ability?”
Grace paused for a moment “Good question, my hands feel the temperature of what I’m touching, but they don’t become hot. What are you seeing?”
“Energy is passing through your hands and causing the molecules to get excited and move faster when you heat, or slow down and get sluggish as you cool”.
Grace commented “Makes sense, I have a low Energizer rating from the hot and cold ability”. Cameron nodded since she noted the light bulb in
Graces chest dimmed slightly when she heated and brightened when cooling.
“How hot can you make something?”
“I can boil water in a pot, I tried having my hand in water to boil it but burnt my skin, the same for cold: I can make ice but only until it begins to hurt”.
Turning Cameron over, Grace massaged her back.
“Are you a Hero?”
“Do I wear a uniform and go around helping people… Yes, people call me Nurse Johnson”.
“But you’re also Polaris?”
“As a mutant, a codename helps protect who you are, someone could use your identity to hurt you and the ones close to you, keeping your identity secret lets you live a normal life”.
“So, having powers doesn’t mean I have to become a Hero?”
“No Hon, you get to choose what you’re going to do with your life, what do you suppose makes a person a hero or villain?”
“Well, a hero helps people, and a villain takes from people”.
“Have you met many hero’s?”
“Only you and Marcus, and I suppose my Dad was always my hero”.
“And what did he do?”
“He was an engineer and built stuff, but what made him special was he would hold me tight during lightning storms, read bedtime stories to me and my brother, taught me how to ride a bike, and he could make Mom laugh whenever she was sad, so mostly he was my Dad.”
“So his power was?”
“He … he loved us, loved me”.
“That might be something for you to consider if you need to decide if someone is good or bad.” Patting the bald head and left the room.
Marcus arrived at the Centre after closing up shop and stopping by the house to collect some items which he thought might help figure out Cameron’s ability. Grace’s call had piqued his curiosity, and all day he had been reviewing his time at Whateley Academy: all the testing he had undergone, he was certainly not a scientist like those folks had been, but was excited to help Cameron explore this new development. He brought into the Centre a cart loaded with his treasures, a few broken electronics from the store, some cast-offs and derelict pieces and bits from his hobby.
“Hey Kiddo, I heard tell you found an ability today, are you up to showing off?”
“What have you got in mind?”
“Grace explained some of what you already did, maybe we could expand on that”.
Marcus’s hobby was collecting and selling antique toys, He showed Cameron an old Raggedy Ann doll - to say it was fascinating to watch is an understatement: without needing to touch the toy she gathered the stuffing that had escaped back into the long tear and bound the material back together renewing the weave, all the dirt disappeared out of the fabric so it lost the dingy look and the dyes brightened so the doll looked as if new before she handed it back to him. He next brought out 3 tin cars: a sports car, a police cruiser, and a pick-up. Each showed years of use and abuse but Cameron in moments had the cars looking pristine without a dent or scratch as if they just came off the stores shelf.
Marcus pointed out that Cameron could affect natural materials such as fabrics and metals, so next would be plastics and placed before her a 10-inch-tall Robbie the Robot toy with an arm broken off - along with other dents and scars from an active life. Cameron was able to do a beautiful restoration to the little robot but couldn’t do anything about the missing arm. From off the cart she was handed a box filled with small broken items and it was suggested she try using these to make a new arm out of. Cameron reached into the box, a bright light flashed and the contents vanished. She held the robot intently looking at the good arm, a dimly lit blue swirl appeared beside the robot and then there it was: a new arm, identical to the other, ready for the next imagined threat so it could wave about saying “danger, danger”.
Sorting through the collection of broken items Marcus settled upon a small radio, which Cameron scanned and said it had parts missing, to which another box was brought forward but this time containing electronics, these too vanished in the brilliant flash. Cameron appeared stymied until she was shown a set of prints with a radios schematic, after that she was able in moments to reconstruct the missing parts and handed over a working radio. When Marcus opening it up, he couldn’t tell any difference between the original and fabricated parts.
Cameron did likewise to the other electronics off the cart, rejuvenating everything Marcus had brought in. In the excitement Cameron had forgotten to track her battery, so when she did eventually look at it – it was no wonder that she had become tired, the graph was dipping into the danger zone.
Seeing that Cameron was fading, Grace ended the evenings activities, not wanting the day to end just yet Cameron asked if they could talk for awhile about what had been accomplished. It turned out that Cameron could work any of the materials available, and applied what she’d learnt to the next problem, there was however a question left hanging: where did the rest of the stuff out of the boxes go? Cameron feigned ignorance but found it sitting in the Warehouse dimension neatly sorted and stored.
As Marcus was preparing to leave, Cameron asked if he would show her his abilities, Grace’s comment was “fairs fair”. The look on the fragile girl’s face was precious when Mickey Mouse’s voice came from the washroom complaining about not being able to open the door with his big cartoon hands on little pipe cleaner arms which couldn’t grasp the doorknob, then from under her bed Popeye told him he should eat more spinach, and an argument ensued. She was full out laughing at the exchange, taking pity on the girl Grace suggested a good night song, so moving up close to his darling wife – Marcus held her hands and started into one of her personal favourites: It’s Now or Never. Grace loved Elvis’ version but this was an electrifying performance, and the applause from Cameron and the two other nurses that crowded by the door let Marcus know he had aced it.
His reward was a long kiss which required Cameron to “ahem” a couple times - along with a side comment about exemplar lungs before they parted.
A promise of returning soon was made as they bade each other goodnight, but it was Mickey who had the last word…asking if someone could please open the door and let him out.
Cameron had a great night’s sleep but was perplexed from her dream about being in a waiting room talking to a young boy, it was odd that she could remember it so vividly after waking.
Grace was her nurse escort today and when prepping Cameron to leave, handed her a pair of safety glasses with a reflective silver coating, Cameron took the glasses reshaping them for a better fit so now the glasses completely hide the light her eyes cast.
Todays destination was a large medical centre which Doctor Amanda Carter was working out of, they arrived early for the appointment with the receptionist directing them into the waiting room. Grace got herself a coffee and sat beside Cameron’s wheelchair, it’s what happened next that made Cameron’s blood run cold: a young boy of maybe 9 entered the room, the very boy she saw in her dream last night. He was wheeled into the room by his mom and they settled in near to where Grace and Cameron sat, the boy noticed Cameron and moved his chair closer to her.
“Did you have chemo treatments too” removing his ball cap to show his hairless head in sympathy.
“No, my barber has a bowling fixation” a comment which caused Grace to do a spit take and cough.
“The Doc needs to check on my cancer, see if it’s gone into remission.”
Cameron looked into the boy and her heart sank, there were dark blotches throughout his small body. “I’m getting my brain scanned because I was in a coma” was the choked response.
They continued in small talk, with little Eric excitedly showing off his dinosaur book and pointing out his favourites, his mom watching the two in amusement. Cameron was looking at the cancer, wanting so much to do something to help the boy. She could see a healthy cell and a sick one but just didn’t know how to correct it.
Eric and his mom got called into their appointment first, before parting Cameron gave Eric an awkward hug since neither could leave their wheelchairs and in desperation poured energy into the boy asking his body to fight the cancer. After goodbye waves Grace leaned over and asked the visibly shaken Cameron if she was alright, her heavy-hearted response was that he was very sick.
Cameron was brought into an examination room to have sensors placed all over her head, Doc Amanda explained that she needed to check Cameron’s brain activity, Cameron had to keep her brain “working” for an hour to collect the data needed to make an accurate diagnosis.
Cameron was handed a workbook and pen and once the equipment was checked, Cameron was asked to open the booklet and begin. The workbook turned out to be a general knowledge questionnaire reminding her of taking a school exam, however it took just a short while for that book to be finished so another was provided - at the end of the hour Cameron had two questions left to complete in the fifth workbook. Dr. Amanda had had to run off and collect it from her office, Cameron finished it and then closed up the folder while the sensors were being removed.
Cameron was wheeled down some corridors to another examination room and greeted by a friendly woman Doctor named Kathy who conducted an extensive physical exam. She switched between referencing x-rays, the computer, and a thick folder into which she adding notes as she hymned and hawed while poking and prodding a girl that was starting to feel a kinship with lab-rats. Then it was off to the next stop; a conference room in the same building.
As Grace and Cameron settled into the room that held a large central table and a TV monitor on one wall. Doctor’s Amanda and Kathy entered along with three others introduced as Doctors: Samuels and Russell. As well as Karen from Michael Williamson`s office: acting as her guardian’s representative. Karen had each new Doctor present sign privacy and non-disclosure documents which was a formality Mike had sought as a means to protect Cameron.
Kathy lead off the briefing by describing Cameron’s physical condition, the TV came to life and displayed ER photos of her injuries from when she first arrived in hospital, then more current pictures. The broken left leg had healed with some muscle damage, there would be a limp if and when she could ever walk. The gunshot wound to the abdomen had taken three surgeries in-order to repair the damage from the bullet having passed through, there was still scar tissue along it’s path. The bullet in her neck was shown sitting against the spines nerve bundle, it had not been able to be removed because of the high likelihood of either Cameron being paralyzed or having brain damage, another picture showed her neck without the bullet.
Cameron was asked how she had managed to extract the bullet and for lack of a fitting description available it was decided a demonstration would be best. A gel mold was placed in front of Cameron which looked much like the jello at picnics that has pineapple bits in it - this stuff however had bullets, coins, and other oddly shaped pieces of metal. Putting her hand beside the gel she would take an item or two out at a time as it was being filmed.
Dr. Samuel spoke next; he was brought in as a specialist on the effects of the chemicals used in the “Mutant Tamer” bullets. He described how the bullets had been banned, explaining what had happened to people who had been shot with them. A baseline person exposed to the bullets didn’t fair well – most died within days, but a few survived up to a year suffering from severe mental and physical conditions. Dr. Samuel described the three cases of mutants having been shot and survived: one was a powerful magic wielder that cast a healing spell, another a mutant with level 4 regeneration that simply ejected the bullet. He then spoke about a mutant named Polaris rated as an exemplar 3 and regen 2 who had performed surgery upon herself (Grace remained poised, and the Doctor gave no indication that he knew her). It was hypothesized that she had survived due to the combination of regen and exemplar traits.
Then it came to Cameron: that she was alive was the big mystery which left a question mark her Doctors didn’t have an answer for. Her coma was the result of the bullets toxins as well as the stunted growth and development, scientific evidence supported that conclusion. But that Cameron had lived for 7 plus years, then awakening with the bullet still in her body! All Doctor Samuels could say was it required further study.
As Dr. Samuel’s display continued, it illustrated the chemical formula used in the bullets. Cameron at that point focused within her body looking for it - and gathered up the deposits found, reaching over and taking Graces hand – she commenced doing the same for her friend. She put the two tiny pellets she had collected together into pill cups, curious; Grace asked what Cameron was up to, only being told which cup held hers then pointed up to the screen.
Amanda asked Doctor Russell to speak next, he brought up three slides, the first showed the female reproductive system, the second male, pointing to the third said “This is an MRI image of Cameron’s lower torso”, it was nothing like either of the others. Cameron looked down with her sight confirming the picture, that`s when the queasy feeling hit and she vomited. It took a while for the room to settle down, however, when the discussion resumed the question asked was if the deformity resulted from the bullet? Dr. Russell spoke about a laboratory test being arranged using fruit flies to determine if the toxin effected one’s sex.
Cameron was then asked if she had any surgeries as a child – replying that x-rays had been taken after a fall off her bike so a records search was arranged to find a comparative starting point. The next issue brought up dealt with there being more male than female present and how the hormones in the blood indicated the dominant sex as male. Doctor Russell said that if or when Cameron’s body matured, a problem could develop and seriously affect her health. The Doctor presented surgical options saying to let him know the decision in a couple years – the time frame he felt certain it would take before Cameron would have need of the surgery.
Amanda took the floor and made her presentation about Cameron’s recovery, how physiotherapy was helping build muscle and stamina. The Doc’s assessment of mental functions showed no sign of damage from the coma or bullets poison. The latest testing just conducted would provide more details but hinted towards having higher brain activity than normal. She next said that personality testing needed further examination to determine if a disorder is present.
Cameron leaned over and whispered to Grace “Okay, so call me crazy, they must think I’m nuts!” Graces snort drew everyone’s attention.
After lunch, everyone returned to the conference room to participate in a video connection with a scientist named Dr. Nelson at the Arkham Research Center. Arkham had been contacted to assist with making a diagnosis. Tanya Nelson was a pleasant young woman who had recently finished obtaining her last degree: specializing in mutation effects and classifications. It turns out Cameron’s classified file had caused a stir at Arkham with the people there intrigued since she didn’t have the expected mutation markers. The Arkham folks had created a list of possibilities which Tanya had compiled into questions to gauge the potential category Cameron might belong too. Grace described the 4-inch-thick pile of papers sitting on Tanya’s desk, to which Cameron paled. When Tanya mentioned it would be sent to PG in sections to get completed, that was a welcome bit of news for which Cameron was mildly relieved.
Tanya kindly took some time to describe the different types of power sets found in baseline people: Mages or Wizards, Avatars, Imbued, and Origins being the most common. Before the session ended, Tanya asked if she could see Cameron’s eyes? Cameron was shy about removing the visor that had allowed her to blend in by keeping her eyes hidden. Cameron was noticing how the ‘glowing eyes’ caused people to act nervous around her, but decided that these people could be trusted and removed the visor.
The room was darkened to allow the video conference, so when the emitted light shone out filling the area Cameron faced, those present who had not seen this before gawked. Nervous; Cameron joked that if it got brighter she could get a job as a lighthouse.
The last stop of the day was to Mike Williamson’s office, Karen brought Cameron and Grace in to see him, he sat behind an old wooden desk from a bygone age, heaped high with files and folders, he motioned them over to a little table and joined everyone there.
Mike was again wearing a tartan tie and to break the ice Grace asked what was the story behind it, he told them about how in university he was the best man at his brothers wedding, and instead of suits they wore kilts. His roommates pranked him one day by only leaving the kilt for him to wear, his classmates teased him but the professor commended him for having style. His classmates and friends now send him tartan ties as gifts, it had become his signature to wear tartan and if you believed such stuff; brought him luck.
Mike motioned to Karan and she left for a minute to return with a package; a present for Cameron, who gleefully opened it - holding up an Opus the penguin plushie sporting a tartan bowtie; and she cried.
Cameron explained between choked breaths that when her Mom and Dad dated, they shared a common love of comics, Mom really enjoyed Calvin and Hobbes, Dad was a fan of Bloom County. Mom gave Dad an Opus plushie and years later he became Cameron’s when she found him and they couldn’t be separated. Seeing him again; memories of her life washed over Cameron in waves as she cried over the found friend, and the love lost a result from her families’ deaths. She was awash recalling precious moments with her family, and cried for what had been taken from her, cried for being alone in the world, and then cried over these people who now cared about her.
Eventually the tears ran out and she fought to regain composure, it took a number of hugs and thanks to both Mike and Karen before they could continue talking. Karen wore her heart on her sleeve and had been crying along with Cameron, her profession might demand a steel vice composure but she cared deeply and as Mike described it - made her a better lawyer. She and Mike made up a team that rarely lost a case as the two worked so well together, at work they meshed together great but lead separate lives with both being married and Mike having two little children at home.
Mike had at first been assigned to be the comatose Cameron’s guardian by the Province, but now that she was awake he asked Cameron if she would like for him to continue in that role? It was a thoughtful gesture and Cameron agreed without hesitation as she liked the man, he had been a good friend.
Next, Mike needed to know if there was anyone that handled the families legal and financial matters. Cameron recalled Dad saying his friend Albert Miller looked after that for him – he was like a brother to her father. Mike checked his records and nodded that Albert had been involved with matters after the accident, he would get in touch and include him into the situation.
The conversation with Mike and Karen had convinced Cameron that she could trust them completely, so when Mike casually asked if any other abilities had been found, she sought to be wheeled over to his old desk and touched it briefly, then with a flourish said “Ta da”. Mike’s expression was priceless, it turns out the desk had been his grandfathers and had seen better days, but was kept for sentimental value. Now the desk
looked and felt new: not a nick, scratch, or stain to be found. Mike was speechless which only seemed fair to Cameron considering her little emotional episode.
Once Grace and Cameron had returned to the Centre, Cameron needed to close her eyes for a time to meditate since she was still shaken over her encounter with Eric. That dream had shaken her soundly and she worried what it meant. A knock at the door brought her thoughts back to the now to see Annie sitting in her doorway.
“Hello Cameron, heard it was a busy day”.
“Hi Annie, yeah, I was told about what’s wrong with me today”.
“And did anyone take time to explain what’s right with you?”
“Can’t say that topic was brought up”.
“Hon, my Fred always said that ‘people can’t see the forest for the trees’”.
“Ah... Fred, the renaissance mechanic”.
“No dear, he worked mostly on Chev’s. But you know – he would talk about folks bringing in cars that needed repairs which would cost a lot more than the car was worth, and despite his recommendation they would get the work done anyway.”
“So these Doc’s are wasting their time on me?”
“Of course not! Those people fixed their cars because they meant more to them than simple transportation. They held memories, friendship, had become family. It wasn’t a question of cost it was loyalty. And Fred: bless him, would help them out best he could, I don’t think he ever smiled bigger then when doing those jobs.”
“Sorry Annie, you’ll need to walk me through this one”.
“All right dear, sometimes to help the forest you have to take care of a single tree, or maybe it was that every tree is the beginning of a huge forest”.
“I’m going to need some time on this one… And you were married to him?
“46 years”.
“A happy marriage?
“He vexed me so!”
“Know the feeling, I never met the man - but he sure has me confused”.
“By the way, I understand you are to thank for getting the Rec Room TV working, the gang is watching Jeopardy tonight – your welcome to join us.”
“I just might.” mused Cameron.
That night was a learning experience:
Really just a quiet night at home.
Cameron’s dream that night took her to a school with stately brick buildings, a large glass dome was in the background. Students milling about at the end of classes: some walking others flying, everyone wore a school uniform blazer with the girls wearing skirts and boys’ pants. A bronze statue’s plaque read Noah Whateley, then she noticed two other things: she was walking? …and wearing pants!
February 22, 2007. Prince George Provincial Courthouse
Judge Wilkins sat at his desk strumming his fingers; for some reason he always seemed to play the tune Danny Boy! He mused that perhaps everybody has an internal tempo which drew individuals to certain kinds of music, like two metronomes synchronizing rhythms. Maybe it’s why todays music grated his sensibilities? Maybe he just wasn’t in sync?
The day’s proceedings had perplexed him, feeling himself to be more a tennis judge than sitting in a court of law, with the tension in his neck attested to just that. It had taken such a very long time to bring this wrongful death and injury case forward, he’d held off his retirement in order to get this matter settled - he just couldn’t conscionably end his career and leave it unresolved.
The Judge mentally attempted to summarize todays revelations, and the surprises wrought in pre-trial discussions.
Foremost was introducing the actual accident footage; the MCO vehicle’s onboard recording system was incredibly detailed with interior and exterior views which time stamping every angle. An objection was raised regarding permissibility given that the recording was MCO property. Mike was prepared for just such an objection; a clip from the recording was played, the truck that the MCO was passing had stopped once the accident occurred. The digitally altered driver is seen walking toward the scene, taking cover when gunshots are heard, he then approached Polaris, rendering aid. He checked Agent Parson and returning to unlock Polaris. He then approached the sedan and entered the passenger side, a comment of “Great Scott!” and him working on the console, a moment later the recording went black.
Mike explained that the crown had not used any illegal actions to obtain the evidence, it was turned over to him along with two eyewitness statements. Never in the almost eight years since the incident had the MCO ever even mentioned that there might be a recording - they also had never reported that such a recording was stolen. It could be argued that the MCO was purposely attempting to hide evidence and objecting to the use of the recording would support that claim. Their objection was begrudgingly dropped.
The case until today had been stymied over two main issues:
Summary of Issue 1:
McAvoy – Arnold - and Strong; the MCO’s previous counsel, had contested that the mutant Polaris had overwhelmed the Agents - holding them at gunpoint thereby forcing Anderson to drive and this being the ultimate cause of the accident. Actual events played out much differently. Yes: Agent Anderson was driving; however, Polaris was sedated and securely restrained in the cars rear. Anderson was traveling in an erratic manner (which was reinforced by footage of them exiting a drinking establishment 20 minutes earlier), he had been traveling at an excessive speed averaging 50 km/h (30 mph) over the speed limit (as captured by the recording), coming up behind a delivery truck he blindly entered the oncoming lane.
The head-on collision was disturbing in the graphic detail provided by the recording, a supporting report was submitted from the RCMP Accident Investigators which illustrated the debris and told a story of how the Recreational Vehicle virtually exploded upon impact against the unforgiving MCO sedan. A finesse move on Mike Williamson’s part was to play Goodkind Industries own promotional video for that model vehicle which actually demonstrated the sedan going toe to toe with a tank. The vehicle was only produced briefly as an enforcement prototype and underwent limited field testing; one being issued to PG. That prototype failed testing miserably so all units had been recalled and the project dismantled.
The cause of the accident was indisputable given the evidence now available, but a lawyers’ existence is to argue and dissect the smallest detail. The parties jockeyed for position to minimizing responsibility and deflecting accountability, truly masterful lawyers wield words like swords and the interchange becomes a dance of perverse beauty, simultaneously highlighting the ugliest and noblest traits in humanity.
The Judge mused about how law at its heart is society’s foundation and without it our society would crumble, associated with it - is the risk that that same law can also be the wrecking ball. Judging opposing arguments must allow thought freedom so it can arrive at a conclusion.
The conclusion regarding the accident was straight forward enough; an exceptionally strong case was evident against the MCO and Goodkind Industries. Severity of the accident resulted from using of an unsafe military grade vehicle on a public road; where it broke multiple safety codes and a breach of ethics.
Summary of Issue 2:
The MCO recording was again center stage used as evidence to detail the second action of “who shot who”.
The playback commenced with Polaris extracting herself from the driver’s side rear door, her face digitally altered to protect her identity: a condition for her testimony. The recording was paused to make note that Polaris had stopped to check on the MCO agents condition; doubts had been raised regarding if she was looking to render aid then why she did not go around the vehicle and assist Agent Parson first, the answer became obvious as Polaris’s movement was impeded by the still intact leg and arm restraints. Behind and to the side of the sedan was a seated man which Polaris awkwardly moved toward and briefly examined, she unwrapped the man to reveal a child to which she did a cursory examination, she slowly lifted the child in a cradling hold, stood, turned, making a couple steps back towards the sedan.
The recording switched to the view of Agent Parson exiting the sedan through the passenger side window, drawing his weapon as he rounded the front of the vehicle, the audio caught “No mutant b***h is escaping from me” while discharging 4 shots. The rotated and slow-motioned view captured Polaris’s body jerking from a bullets impact into her shoulder, then dropped into a crouching position trying to use her body as a shield for the child. Blood was distinctly visible from two areas on the child: the abdomen and neck. A propane tank (part of the RV debris) was seen in the background cartwheeling and bursting into an explosion. As an epilogue, the picture returned to Agent Parson; his body being struck by a piece of shrapnel with him then sinking out of frame.
A supporting ballistics report was provided: The first shot struck Polaris and remained in her body, it was recovered as part of Polaris’ testimony and testing matched Agent Parson’s weapon. The second shot entered Miss Burke’s abdomen: a trajectory line was added to a freeze-frame picture, the bullet narrowly missed Polaris when it exited Cameron, this second shot was not recovered. The third bullet struck and lodged into Miss Burke’s neck, it had been recovered and testing matched it to Agent Parson’s weapon. The fourth shot was traced on screen, it only missed Cameron’s head due to a slight movement by Polaris, the line tracked to the propane cylinder, the cylinder could be seen flipping and exploding, it was surmised that a spark from the cylinder hitting the ground ignited the escaping gas.
A report from Doctors Kathy Houston and Benjamin Samuels was provided: it detailed the injuries to Miss Burke and her seven-and-a-half-year coma. Contained within the report was a history of a normal bodies reaction to the chemicals used in the Goodkind ‘mutant tamer’ bullets, highlighted was a paragraph stating how in two other instances a comatose state resulted. The discussion turned to the manner in which the bullets had been recovered, a recorded deposition from Polaris described how she had performed crude surgery upon herself, next a video was played showing an emaciated girl demonstrating how she could remove items set into gel molds by touching them, a series of before and after pictures depicting coins and bullets was enough to illustrate no tampering with integrity had occurred, although it was anyone’s guess as to how she did it.
A heated exchange regarding permissible evidence was followed by accusatory remarks that testimony from a hunted mutant criminal should not be used and would have to thereby be stricken from use. Mike Williamson asked what charges had been placed against Polaris for the MCO to have been seeking her arrest? That objection was dropped when neither warrant or evidence of criminal activity was presented and no proof substantiating the MCO’s claim to uphold their reasoning.
It was clear that a solid case was present to proceed upon: the evidence available was sufficient to move forward into a trial over the shooting of Miss Burke. A subsequent case regarding Polaris’ arrest and injury also held merit.
After prolonged discussion between the Goodkind and MCO parties, the lawyer representing the Goodkind’s interests acquiesced and sought mediation rather than proceeding into litigation regarding their involvement. This action thereby forced the MCO’s hand with Regional Director Andre Gatineau authorizing the MCO lawyer to likewise seek a mediated resolution.
All parties agreed to a break so the session was called for 2 hours, time to allow the Prosecuting Attorney to contact Miss Burke and determine if mediation was acceptable for them to proceed.
Cameron was rousted out of the Centre for yet another busy day with Nurse Wendy wheeling her to the shuttle. She was off to a psychiatric assessment and then physio, she chuckled recalling her Dad’s joke about ‘how to answer if your asked if you hear voices: “they said to say No”’. It is rather scary to have your sanity challenged, but Cameron was resolved to answer as honestly as possible, and if she was nuts? She’d get along fine with the squirrels – at least they were funny.
The Psychiatrist was a nice lady named Joan; who endeavoured to put Cameron at ease, letting her have orange juice as they talked. She asked questions about how Cameron was coping with the loss of her family, Cameron talked about her crying session at Mike Williamson’s office, how her heart hurt when she thought about her family, that she was lonely and scared.
The question if Cameron had considered suicide took her aback, she told the story of how her Dad had tried to protect her in the accident – giving his life to protect hers, she was resolute in wanting to live and honour her Dads last gift which meant she wasn’t going to give up; ever.
The time with Joan passed quickly, but Cameron ached to know if she was ‘alright’. Joan said she was doing fine; yes - she had mental and emotional scars just like physical ones, but she was on a good road to recovery. Joan asked if Cameron would like to return for counselling and arrangements were made to include visits to Joan in her recovery regime. That visit had been emotional, so Cameron needed to remove her visor to dab a couple errant tears while they rode the elevator down. A lady started giving her the stink eye so Cameron turned away so as not to be seen crying. Once the elevator stopped the lady exited hurriedly while making a phone call.
Nurse Wendy was moving them past a little café situated at the buildings entrance and suggested grabbing a snack, so they stopped to take a break.
The next appointment was just down a block which had Wendy pushing Cameron’s wheelchair on the sidewalk since the physio office was so close by.
A black sedan screeched to stopped on the road beside them, two suit clad people: a man and a woman, jumped out of the car. Forcibly grabbing Cameron while securing a bag over her head, they then dragged Cameron out of the wheelchair throwing her into the back seat of the car. Wendy tried to protest but the gun being waved in her face necessitated her keeping a safe distance. The car sped away leaving Wendy badly shaken; she managed to place two phone calls, the first to 911, the next to Cameron’s guardian.
Karen was engrossed in the task of preparing files for transfer to RCMP Special Investigations headquarters, it had been arranged to give them a copy of everything they had regarding Cameron’s case, the lady at the offices switchboard used the phones PA system to page her about an urgent call. Picking up the nearest handset it was surprise to hear Wendy; one of Cameron’s nurses, on the line in a panic.
Cameron had been kidnapped from right off the street by two people in a black sedan! That piece of news hit hard and Karen reeled from it.
Wendy; who was fit to be tied, was trying to talk through her panic. Karen helped her calm down enough to gather a little bit of coherent information as to where and when it happened. Between Wendy’s deep breaths then spurts of rapid fire talking, Karen was able to discern that the RCMP had already been contacted and they were starting a city-wide search.
Wendy confirmed that an officer had just arrived onsite and he was getting statements from nearby witnesses. Karen continued her efforts to calm the poor girl down, even though she herself was beginning to feel a surge of panic. Asking Wendy to hand the phone over to the officer: she introduced her self and her tie to Cameron, and made certain that the RCMP had her contact numbers before hanging up.
Karen needed a moment to assess the situation and settle her own nerves before running off like the proverbial ‘chicken with it’s head cut off’. She needed a plan – and she needed to get Mike into the loop, unfortunately Mike was in an important meeting just now and couldn’t be interrupted. Office protocol was for her to leave text messages, and handle the situation until Mike was free to respond. Karen sent the first of her many messages on the day to Mike.
Karen’s phone rang with an update from the RCMP, they had gotten the black sedans plates and running a search it identifying the vehicle as belonging to the MCO. Backing that information up was a statement taken from a woman known to be a vehement Humanity First supporter, she had honestly bragged to the officer about having gotten a dangerous mutant off the street. Further news, a police cruiser on patrol had called in having spotted a car that matched the description, it was currently sitting in the MCO’s parking lot, no visible passengers in the vehicle.
The RCMP didn’t have the authority to enter the MCO offices with-out a warrant, Karen sent another text to Mike asking if Judge Wilkins would issue a search warrant. Karen’s emotions were a jumble, leaving her questioning what to do next, in a move based solely upon worry she grabbed Cameron’s file then headed out the door in a run.
Karen entered the MCO office in the most professional manner she could currently muster, she hoped no-one saw the utter distress she felt as she checked her poise and demeanour. She took a brief moment to start a tiny recorder in her purse before ringing the buzzer on the reception desk, the desk consisted of an impenetrable floor to ceiling wall which held only a single small glass window. The reception area gave the impression of being imposing and impersonal, furthering that theme situated behind the obvious safety glass sat an MCO agent, with only a small speaker disc for communication.
Karen gave Cameron’s description and showed a photograph stating she was a guardian and asked to be taken to see her. The agent manning the desk denied any knowledge of Cameron and the speaker clicked off into annoying silence. Flustered after a half hour of being refused any information or assistance, Karen sat down in one of the foyer chairs and sent Mike another text, over the next hour the person manning the reception desk changed twice and each time Karen made the same request but only got the same response.
The MCO and Goodkind parties had fought to distance themselves from any accountability; but eventually realized how weak their positions would be in a trial. Mediating a settlement would allow them to save face and prevent a public trial from becoming a humiliation.
It was mid-afternoon before the intense negotiation session was agreeable to taking a break, finally freeing Mike to leave the table. Turning his phone on Mike found a series of messages from Karen, he rushed to a quiet location to read them and he blanched as each piece of information bespoke of a deepening nightmare scenario, dialing Karen she answered in a cool manner; her professional persona. Mike took the cue and only asked questions that required yes or no answers:
Mike asked Karen to stay there - he would arrive soon after he’d gotten a warrant.
Mike grabbed a taxi, and in no time pulled up in front of the low-rise office building used by the MCO as their Prince George office. Mike stepped out of the cab and was met by an RCMP officer, Mike waved the warrant in triumph and they briskly walked into the building. Karen was still seated near the single secure reception window, as Mike and the officer approached the desk, Karen stepped in beside them.
Mike wrung the buzzer, then placed his identification and the search warrant against the window. Mike clearly stated his name, position, and being Cameron Burke’s legal guardian, supported by Karen holding Cameron’s picture up to the window as well. Mike emphasizing that the girl was not a mutant and requested to be taken to her, a snide comment of “Like I told the lady: the kid ain’t here” was all Mike got from the MCO agent manning the desk as the speaker disc clicked off yet again into dead silence.
Flummoxed the trio moved toward the exit, Mike asked Karen to keep vigil in the foyer while he began placing calls once he’d stepped outside the office. Mike ran down his list of enforcement agency contacts, his call to the local RCMP detachments chief initiated deployment of SWAT who could be there in seconds … since the MCO had fortuitously located themselves across the street from the RCMP station.
Before Mike was even able to finish saying ‘thank you’ he saw officers running out the neighbouring building and crossing the street to take up tactical positions. Mikes’ next called was to what had become a frequent number on his phone: RCMP Special Investigations, before the exchanging of any niceties he simple stated “Ray, we have a situation” Mike then described what was happening – he was told a man named John would be there within the next couple minutes and to trust him without reserve.
Mike stepped up to the SWAT commander and greeted him, they then began discussing the situation, as if by magic a uniformed man was standing beside Mike arriving completely unnoticed, shaking his hand and introducing himself as John – he mentioned having been sent by Ray.
The two RCMP officers then began formulating a plan to storm the MCO stronghold. Stepping back; Mike let those with the needed experience do their jobs, looking down the street near the soon to be sieged office he noticed a black sedan pull up and park. Andre Gatineau the MCO Director he’d been in meetings with stepped out, Mike walked over in a friendly manner once he’d clothed himself in his legal persona.
“Andre, great to see you again”.
“Yes Mike, you too. Do you know what is happening?” replied Andre gesturing to the RCMP swarm.
“I’m afraid there is a bit of a situation, it seems Miss Burke is being interviewed by the MCO today but I’m not being allowed to speak with her. I fear my contacting the RCMP might have caused an over-reaction”.
“Well! let’s go clear this little misunderstand up, shall we?” offered Andre.
Mike matched Andre’s stride as he entered the MCO building and John silently fell into step behind Mike, Mike made a gesture for Karen to join them as Andre approached the reception and knocked on the window. Director Gatineau produced his badge resulting in the reception agent turning white, Mike asked politely to be taken to see this girl pointing to the picture Karen held up the window. Seconds later the multi-bolted door into the office was unlocked and it opened allowing the entourage to enter, a sheepish agent lead them down a corridor to a room labeled Interview Room 2.
Andre Gatineau was the first to enter the room which indeed looked to be a small meeting space, the table had been pushed into a corner where a suited woman in her mid twenties sat smoking a cigarette - minding an electric branding iron as it warmed up on the table. A middle-aged man wielding a baton was standing over a wisp of a girl who had been stripped naked, blindfolded, and was hung by handcuffs off the ceiling looking much like a side of beef. The smell of burnt flesh was overwhelmingly revolting a result of the 4 prominent M brands on the girl’s bare back, along with an etched happy face on her right thigh from extinguished cigarette butts. Karen spoke for the group when she puked. The baton wielding MCO agent angrily shouted they had interrupted an official interrogation and demanded they leave immediately.
Giving Andre Gatineau credit – he decked the man so hard he was out cold with a single blow.
The RCMP arrived enforce within minutes: arresting the two agents that had been conducting the ‘interview’, as well, they seized the recordings that had been made of the interview. Officers collected statements from all MCO personnel present, arresting the agent that ignored the search warrant plus the two agents that had lied about Cameron not being there, all of them being taken into custody charged with obstruction.
Mike and Andre’s return to the courthouse was a somber and awkward affair, neither of the men actually talked as they shared a ride together. Their thoughts embroiled by the absolute horror that they had had a hand in stopping, both shaken from what had been witnessed too much so to engage in small talk. It was obvious that Andre was overwhelmed, while Mike for his part was striving to contain his outrage.
The men assembled again in chambers at the scheduled time, the legal beagles impatient to find out if Miss Burke had agreed to enter mediation.
Mike explained that it was not possible to ask Miss Burke anything due to her current physical condition: she was completely incoherent after getting rescued. For the benefit of all present Mike described what had occurred, which included passing around the table a series of photographs that made every face pale.
Mike went on to describe the reality of the situation Cameron faced - due to the accident and injury this now 21-year-old woman was challenged with serious health problems. This weak and fragile girl was also potentially needing a sex re-assignment surgery; most likely a result of the chemical toxins used in the tainted bullets. Worse still she was also easily mistaken as a mutant, the consequences of carrying that label had just been witnessed by himself and Andre. Andre corroborated all that Mike said.
Mike cautioned all parties present to consider how a jury might react to Miss Burke in a courtroom, should she choose to litigate. They should now use the short reprieve (until she recovered enough) to come up with offers that would resoundingly convince her to settle out of court.
Deliberations were halted pending Miss Burke’s recovery.
Prince George General Hospital
Cameron was admitted into PG’s hospital unconscious and in critical condition, she was rushed into Emergency where ER staff stabilized the beaten girls condition. Her frail physique had taken such punishment that the doctors classified her situation as ‘life threatening’, the medical record entry reflected an assessment of ‘attempted murder’.
The Doctors reset both dislocated shoulders, her arms having ben pulled out of the sockets, then placed her broken left hand into a cast. Cameron’s jaw had sustained multiple fractures which necessitated wiring it closed, along with having sustained 4 broken teeth. She had damage to the kidneys, liver, and pancreas all hemorrhaging and complicating her condition. It didn’t help having 4 broken ribs, and both eyes swollen shut, the doctors and nurses had a hard time choosing what problem to address first. The examination identified 34 strike marks as each welt was now turning into large bruises, 8 burn marks from cigarettes having been extinguished into the skin on the right thigh - including one burn on the crown of her head, plus the four brands on her back each measuring 5 inches across.
When Cameron regained consciousness five days later, her handwritten note simply asked “How long this time?”
It took two days of recovery before Cameron was able to concentrate well enough to resume school work, Grace and Marcus brought her laptop into her during one visit – she appreciated the distraction it afforded, but was cautioned not to overdo it. She received visitors with the best smile she could muster – even if it only meant putting forward a cheery disposition.
Mike visited her almost every day each time bringing another classic book to read, he sat and read to her Treasure Island – a book he himself loved when growing up. Karen too came as often as able and the two would play games and talk.
It wasn’t until Cameron had demonstrated enough of a recovery before Mike eventually broached the subject: asking if she wanted to go to trial over the accident, he explained the pro’s and cons going into detail explaining the situation the Goodkind’s and MCO faced. However, because a public trial could mean exposing Grace and Marcus’ identities she chose to pursue mediation, Mike agreed it would be best and they sorted out which points could be negotiated upon.
Every time Grace and Marcus would stop by, Cameron delighted to hear the man make sound effects and voices. An audience of patients and health care workers would always form whenever he sang, and though he claimed shyness it really wasn’t hard to convince him.
Cameron spent most of her time in hospital doing her school work, studying, reading the novels Mike provided, or sleeping. Cameron decided to make the best of a bad situation and used the opportunity to research the human body; she would write out questions for the Doctors and Nurses, they took to her curiosity kindly, assisting her by providing her reference material and websites to visit for her research.
The medical staff found out about her enhanced vision and would accidentally bring patients by ‘for a look’, or she would suspiciously get brought into the children’s ward to ‘visit’ and get asked what she could see. Cameron was able to help a few people by giving descriptions of ailments that aided the Doctors in making a diagnosis.
Cameron now had a much better appreciation for Grace’s love of being a nurse.
March 06, 2007
The attending Doctor informed Cameron that she was no longer in need of critical care and could be returned to the Centre in a few days, after that assessment Cameron began to look at her injuries and a question started to brew: ‘Can I heal myself?’
When Grace and Marcus visited her that afternoon she was acting a little reserved, prompting Grace to ask what was troubling her, Cameron broke the news that she wanted to try ‘repairing’ herself but was scared.
Grace was dead-set against anything of that sort; describing scientists who had conducted experiments on themselves causing disfigurement and deformities. Marcus however reasoned - since Cameron could manipulate metals and any other elements maybe she could repair a broken bone, they could a least investigate the possibility by practicing - just to see if it could even be done.
Marcus left in a hurry saying he had an idea, he returned shortly thereafter with some cuts of meat he had picked up from the butcher.
Cameron was instructed to try rejoining the meat into a single piece. Focusing on her target she chose to fuse the bone together first, taking matter from her meager store to build up the gaps and solidify the bone. Now that the individual pieces of bone were held together she tried to weave flesh joining the severed ends, it took a long time to isolate a single sinew and match it to its counterpart on the next cut, it was too time consuming – there had to be a better way!
Cameron remembered how the family would work on puzzles together: first finding the edges, then easily identifiable points in the picture. Once a pattern was established it was simple to build out from there, ‘maybe it would be easier having a reference point to work from?’ Cameron used that same technique when combining the cuts of meat and meshing them together rapidly since once the ends aligned reconnecting them went quick.
After Marcus inspected her handiwork he said “Well Hon, looks like were having roast instead of steaks for dinner” for which he received a punch in the arm.
Cameron decided she was confident enough now to try something upon herself, Grace was hard pressed to stop her – especially since her own curiosity had gotten the better of her, but she did ask if what Cameron attempted could be kept small and not dangerous. Cameron pointed at her left leg questioning if it would be okay since it was an old injury? Grace agreed, but first massaged the area that had been broken in the accident feeling the tissue damage.
Focusing - Cameron located the break in the bone which hadn’t healed properly, the bone had rejoined but had left jagged edges and wasn’t aligned correctly, Cameron was able to rework either end of the break, correcting the bones positioning so that it could be mended completely smooth and solid without blemish. Next the surrounding muscle that had been torn and damaged in the car crash was straightened, she rejuvenated the injured tendons and reworked the muscle tissue.
When Grace massaged the leg again she couldn’t find any hint of the old injury. Cameron pointed to her mouth with a pleading look - with a nod Grace agreed and the device which held Cameron’s mouth closed vanished. A great big smile spread across her face, she moved her jaw around then flashed a full set of teeth which told the story that she had been successful.
Grace arranged for the doctor to stop in, during which he was informed of the self-healing that Cameron had undertaken. Doubt was written across his face but nonetheless made an examination to verify the condition of her injuries, once finished he ordered up x-rays since he couldn’t believe what he’d found.
The man impatiently paced the hall outside the room waiting for the pictures, it was only then – when no breaks could be found did he begin to ask how Cameron did it. He suggested that Cameron continue with making repairs – under supervision and by evening the majority of her breaks and damaged organs where corrected. The formerly burnt flesh of the branding’s had a rosy pink hue remaining being the only hint that any damage had been there at all.
The Doctor knew about regeneration and had been present to observe magical healing, but had not heard of anything of this nature before.
The Doc put forward a request to document Cameron healing her hand while an MRI capturing it, he near pleaded on bended knee – so Cameron agreed.
The MRI unit was prepared for Cameron and once the cast was removed, and the technician had a stable image obtained of her hand, a quorum of doctors and techs gathered around the monitor to watch. Cameron again used the jigsaw approach by first healing the bones then the soft tissue, slowly moving forward at the MRI’s pace. A tech spoke up saying the MRI was using twice the usual electricity but nonetheless was working fine.
It was slow going to wait for the MRI to capture what Cameron could have done in mere minutes. Another full MRI scan was done of her healed hand to ensure the results and check the machine.
The attending Physician placed a call to Dr. Nelson at Arkham to keep her appraised of Cameron’s condition and newly discovered ability - she was insistent that a copy of the MRI results be sent to her.
March 08, 2007
Cameron was deeply immersed in her laptop school work when a knock at the door broke her attention, Dr. Amanda was in the doorway with a gentleman standing behind her.
“Hello Cameron, are you up to visitors?” asked her neurologist.
Closing down her laptop, Cameron replied “Sure… glasses on or off?”
“On today please” responded the doctor “I have been asked to make an introduction. Cameron: this is Dr. Atwell from the University of British Columbia” the man moved forward to shake Cameron’s hand. He was in his mid fifties and had experienced the middle age spread, his beard was speckled with grey and he wore a corduroy sport jacket with arm patches.
“Are you another specialist brought in to give me an exam?” asked Cameron, not wanting to have them discover yet another reason to be kept in hospital.
“Oh! no, I’m not that kind of Doctor, I’m a Nuclear Physicist” spoke up the man “I wanted to talk to you about the UBC Nuclear Sciences entrance exam you wrote”.
“Ummm” was the only thing the bewildered girl could muster to say in response.
“I think I need to do some explaining” interjected Dr. Amanda “Cameron: when you came to get that brain scan, I was running out of workbooks since you sped through the usual tests so quickly. I asked around and an intern said she had something I could use: she provided me the entrance exam - as it was a course she had been considering taking … it was the last one you did for me!”
“Okayyy” puzzled Cameron.
“I needed to get an estimation on your cognisant ability, so asked UBC to give me an assessment of your answers” continued the neurologist “Dr. Atwell came to meet you because of that”.
“So just what were the other tests?” wondered Cameron.
“Algebra, Physics, and the Mensa IQ test. Remind me to bring you the invitation to join they sent back” quipped Amanda.
“You should join up; I’ve been a member for years” added Dr. Atwell.
An entertaining conversation ensued, the UBC instructor was shocked to discover that Cameron was only a junior high student, and had no sciences background - considering that her answers had caused endless debate within the departments faculty. Cameron explained that she answered based mostly upon observation. The physicist was dumbfounded when he found out that Cameron could actually see molecules and atoms.
Cameron noticed the mans weather beaten running shoes upon which she did a quick repair and rejuvenation to, the professor was awestruck when he inspected her work. Dr. Atwell mentioned that Cameron’s paper had intellectual property protection and had come to ask if the University could obtain the rights to use it in their research. Also, he had three students who sought permission to write their doctoral thesis based upon her comments.
Mike Williamson was contacted and sent pre-drawn documents of understanding for UBC’s signature to keep it legal, after which Cameron could give consent.
Before leaving Dr. Atwell strongly urged Cameron to consider attending UBC once she finished high school.
March 09, 2007
Cameron was released from hospital two weeks after being brutalized by the MCO. Cameron was certain she could have been set free earlier, but the doctors wanted to keep her for observation – she wasn’t sure it that meant of herself or of other patients.
Grace and Marcus brought her back to the Care Centre to be the guest of honour at a surprise “Welcome Home” party, it had been arranged and set up in the Rec Room with a banner and cake – well: rhubarb crumble and ice cream which was Cameron’s favourite. Mike and Karen came as well to help make it feel like a family affair.
Annie had been so worried about the ‘little dear’ that she’d knitted Cameron a toque which she proudly wore. When Cameron was finally able to wheel into her room later that night once everyone headed home, she found Opus sitting atop her pillow with his tartan tie and a nifty wool toque identical to her own.
March 15, 2007
The stay in hospital had allowed Cameron time to finish up some of her school courses, her Distance Learning Teacher doubted that she had honestly done all the assignments herself in so little time. So, Mike arranged for a teacher from one of the local schools to administer mid-term exams, she passed with flying colours.
The day held special significance for another milestone: in Physio, it was the first time she stood in almost 8 years.
Cameron’s Physiotherapy and exercise regime had stepped up: she was in a pool almost daily as a means to stretch and build up long forgotten muscles, her first tentative step came while standing between two parallel bars that helped give her support. Still; Graces hot and cold massages were the most comforting and relaxing part of Cameron’s day; her body would become like jello and she often fell asleep in bliss laying on the table.
March 19, 2007. MCO Regional Office, Vancouver
MCO Deputy Director for Western Canada: Andre Gatineau, hit send on his email. He only sent one or two of these clandestine messages a day to minimize suspicion. Since returning to his Vancouver office after the shocking events in Prince George he had begun to question his career choices.
Having worked his way up from being a patrolman with the Ontario Provincial Police, to becoming a Captain in Toronto, then the MCO made him an offer and he took a posting as a Manager; quickly holding the role of Director. Andre always thought of himself as upholding the law and working for the benefit of society; now? He had doubts. Breaking up that ‘interview’ on the young girl! It had shaken his belief and sense of right about the MCO; and his place with it.
He had started checking old case files in the archives and found too many that had a simple red ‘CLOSED’ stamp, no explanation provided. He had copied those files and a few manuals and had been sending them to a special investigations unit with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Mike Williamson had put him in touch with a detective there; in a private meeting, he had been shown more of the recovered footage from the MCO’s car, it showed two murders of young mutants in a gravel pit that the Agents euphemistically called ‘The Back Forty’.
A search warrant had been executed on a Humanity First supporters’ property on the outskirts of PG, which lead to the discovery of eight bodies. Forensic scientists estimating the oldest body to have been there for ten years. Two of the files that Andre had uncovered matched found remains, this was the destination Polaris was likely being taken to - before the accident. With a shudder, the MCO Director wondered if maybe the plan had been to hide Miss Burke’s body there also, you don’t torture a person like that to just let them go.
Andre didn’t know how much longer he could stay with the MCO, his conscience was yelling at him about how terrible the MCO was. His resignation letter was drafted and sitting in his desk, he had provided a sworn statement to the RCMP that he did not know about the agencies actions. He felt better by providing whatever records he could, he simply didn’t know what all the field agents had been up to.
Leaving the office for the night, he slid into his car to make the commute home, he had driven no more than a block when his car exploded into a fireball. The evening news attributed it to a mutant attack.
March 21, Prince George Extended Care Centre
Cameron was tired as she returned to the Centre from physio and another psychiatric session with Joan, both of the appointment hurt but for different reasons. She didn’t have much stamina built up yet so the emotional release wore her out nearly as much as the physical exertion. Grace was about to wheel her into the little room that was home when Cameron yelled “STOP”.
Startled - the vigilant nurse asked “What’s wrong?”
Cameron scanned the room carefully, at first it had been the odd ‘oil slick’ on the floor that caught Cameron’s attention, checking the room she noticed a small package hung on the backside of the washroom door. The package lacked moving parts so Cameron was mystified by it, but once Cameron identified the chemicals as explosives she knew they had a bomb on their hands.
“There is a device hanging inside the washroom with wires leading to the floor into what looks like an oil-slick, I see what I think is a detonator” informed Cameron
“Is it triggered?”
“It is armed. I’d say if something disturbed the liquid it would set it off, but I also see a radio so I think it can be remotely detonated”.
Grace considered a few options “I going to pull you back and get as much distance away from it as possible”.
Cameron mulled an idea around “How about I disable it; no damage, and the police have a bomb to inspect”.
Grace had not considered Cameron’s little ability “Do it”.
Cameron did a deep scan of the bomb and saw it had 3 individual triggers; the current in the liquid, vibration if the washroom door opened, and a tamper if anyone tried opening the package, as well as the remote detonator. Cameron decided the best solution was to drain the battery – leaving the wiring alone and completely disabling the bomb.
Grace brought Cameron up beside the Centre’s reception desk while she called 911.
Remi Desjardin (aka Bits) was enraged, “There was no Boom!”.
Some of his best work had failed: his design was to have the target in-front of the bomb as it exploded, ensuring a kill. But other triggers were in place to account for Murphy’s Law, thereby keeping his prized handiwork out of the police’s hands. A bomb of elegance such as his designs were like fingerprints. The remote monitor he had built-in showed the bomb to have been armed and waiting for the target to hit a trigger: then it went blank? “Impossible” he muttered.
“Well Rem, looks like I’m up” was JD’s comment to the embittered explosives master, glad his partner hadn’t resorted to saying ‘Inconceivable’, the last time he’d dropped that one JD nearly pee’d his pants. JD opened the hatch and climbed into his little dynamo of destruction: Remi and JD had formed an unlike alliance early into their escapades as members of the elite MCO hit squad.
JD’s real name was Jack Dempster, he had wanted to use the code name Junkyard Dog but wouldn’t you know it: some x-army guy had already claimed it. So, their compatriots jokingly started calling them “Bits and Bites” when he and Remi joined forces. “Bites” as in bites like a Junkyard Dog, “stupid code names!” was all JD would say about it.
Remi and JD had recently been in Vancouver fulfilling a contract when this assignment came across the wire, being close-by they jumped at the cash cow this particular hit represented.
Remi drove their highly modified panel van into the Care Centre’s parking lot and swung the back around so it faced the buildings entrance. The back door opened while a hydraulic ramp lowered out from the back half of the van, a large generator inside the van roared to life and out shot JD in his assault vehicle.
The tracked vehicle was roughly the size of a ‘skid steer’ which was the platform JD used to build his little armoured terror onto. It was tough, nimble, and heavily armed sporting multiple weapons systems with the coup-de-gras being an energy beam cannon.
JD steered his machine towards the buildings entrance and raced it across the short distance to the doors - trailing behind the umbilical tether.
The shortcoming of any power frame was battery life, JD’s solution was a direct connection to a generator, an idea he got from watching a bathysphere being lowered into the ocean. He also hadn’t bothered with arms or legs: just a bullet proof shell with a plethora of guns, guns, and for good measure more guns which resulted in a kill zone facing nearly every direction. Everything was tied together into a central processor, so that all of it’s weapons could be sighted by an array of flat panel monitors. However, he couldn’t resist installing a leather seat and air conditioning: he was a professional after all.
JD crashed through the double doors sending shattered glass everywhere. He spotted their prize sitting in a wheelchair beside the front desk, he quickly lined up the cannon and fired; it was a direct hit, the girl went sprawling onto the floor as the smoking remains of the wheelchair careened away from the impact. His unit lurched as he ran over the girl and moved behind her position to block a potential escape route, she was pinched between him and Remi who would be taking up position beside the van. Once he was a few yards past the target, he dropped the vehicles hydraulic foot which would let him rapidly pivot 360 degrees like a turret, he cracked the controls in order to spin around, thereby getting sights on
the girl through his window - placing her directly in-line with the bulk of the weaponry.
His prey was dead already they just didn’t know it yet.
The sound of breaking glass and an engines roar brought Cameron’s attention to the Centres entrance. The doors burst and spat glass fragments towards her, before the situation even registered she was struck with an impact that threw her out of the wheelchair forcibly ejecting her and she landed spread eagle onto the floor.
A vehicle sped in through the wide-open doorway and aimed directly towards her, she scrambled in an attempt to get out of the way but a set of heavy tracks ran over her legs; crushing them.
Cameron heard the bones snap as her nervous system screamed at the pain, vowing that unconsciousness was not going to claim her again - she steeled herself and so as to hold tight to her senses, she blocked the neural impulses that threatened to shut her down.
She saw a heavy armoured cable being dragged across her which had a strong electrical current running through it, she grabbed onto the cable, stopping the electricity’s flow and drew in everything she could - directing it into her battery. She felt energy pour into her, and that surge of electricity helped ebb the shock which had already starting to dull her. Cameron’s draw upon every drop of energy she could pull from out of the cable resulted in her hearing an engine rev louder the more she took.
Grace had been focused on the phone call to 911; providing details to the operator when suddenly the doors burst. Grace reflexively dropped down behind the counter for safety, but now she was taking peeks to gather what had happened and see if Cameron was all-right.
When Grace spotted a man armed to the teeth and wearing body armour stepping around the truck parked in front of the doors, she took stock of what was available to her. Sitting atop the reception desk sat the snow globes that staff had brought back from their holidays, they had been arrayed as trophies. Grabbed a snow globe Grace readied herself, she was glad Marcus had taken her to practice baseball, teaching her to throw a fastball; her pitching was clocked at 130 mph.
Grace stood and rifled the globe at the man, it was an intentional beanball and he dropped without knowing what had hit him.
JD was stymied, his unit had completely powered down, even without the tethered power supply he should have had enough back-up batteries for a half hour firefight. But he had nothing! nary a light or spark to indicate life, even the mechanical gun triggers did nothing.
He set and re-set every switch and breaker, not a single blip, worse still all view screens had gone completely blank leaving just the small bulletproof window to see out. His radio link to Remi was down and he was positioned so’s that he couldn’t see either Remi or his target, just a wall and part of the reception desk filled the view out his window.
He saw a woman look over the counter at which he depressed the machine guns’ trigger, but no luck.
Grace call out to Cameron but had to yell due to the engines roar “Cameron! are you alright?”
“I’m on the floor in front of the desk”.
“Hurt?”
“Again!”
“Hurt?” this time called louder.
“Heard you the first time, yes I’m hurt”.
“Bad?”
“I’m not walking away from this one”.
‘Darn wisenheimer kid’ winced Grace, ‘she can’t walk regardless’: guess she’s saying her legs have been hurt.
“Safe to move?”
“Tank is pinned, and you tagged the guy outside” replied Cameron after a quick scan of the area “all clear otherwise”.
Grace cautiously left from behind the desk and moved towards Cameron, Cameron signaled for Grace to look after the man in the parking lot, to which Grace nodded in understanding.
Cameron looked into the little tank: single driver, armed and highly agitated from his pulse rate. She found the access door and sealed it shut so he wasn’t going anywhere.
Cameron then focused upon her legs, the tracks had crushed her fragile bones and tore the muscles to shreds, her injuries had now started to swell badly. If she hadn’t block the receptors the pain would have incapacitated her.
Once again she began to repair herself: rebuilding the bones, then the arteries and veins, next the muscles and finished with her skin. She scanned her full body, she didn’t feel any other pain but was certain she had been shot - but found nothing.
Concerned what the power feeding into her was doing she checked her battery, the gauge had actually climbed and was making moves out of the ‘Low’ zone.
Cameron crawled over to the mini-tank and positioned herself near a small vent, speaking into it she shouted “Hello!”
A stream of choice expletives came as a reply.
“I realize you’re not one of Jehovah’s Witnesses; their usually much politer when they call, but if you wouldn’t mind: what’s your name?”
JD was in a bind: no mobility, no weapons, no communication with Remi. He was safe inside his baby for now – he would have to think and talk his way out of this. “I’m Bites”, he called out, really hating to use that name, a long silence followed, “you still there?”
Cameron had been perplexed by his response, but after his question she called out “Sorry, did you say ‘Bites’ or ‘bite me’?”
“Just Bites”, he called back, drawing a hand down his face - he absolutely hated his code name now.
“All right Mr. Bites, who sent you?”
“Where’s my partner?”
“You mean the guy doing a fantastic impression of a speed bump in the parking lot?”
“Is he alive?”
“A nurse has gone to check on him” Cameron rationalized ‘He asked that for a reason, that’s his back-up! I need to keep him isolated’. “He was knocked unconscious and looked to have been doing okay until Mrs. McKinley ran him over, seems someone took her parking spot”.
JD tried to bolt – the back-up plan was shot to heck. His only choice was to run for the van and the weapons cache. Checking his sidearm he unlocked the door but it wouldn’t budge, after ramming it with his shoulder a couple times he slumped back into his seat.
Cameron snickered, she didn’t think the situation would turn around that well, and having to bend the truth about his partner had been a gamble - but provided the needed spark, he might just spill some useful info now “You had just started to tell me who sent you?”.
“I’m saying nothing!” JD barked, keyed up from frustration.
The wail of approaching sirens made talking further pointless so Cameron pondered what to do next, she remembered her Dad having had a problem with a hornets nest under the deck, he resorted to smoking them out. Cameron guessed she could try and mimic Grace’s ability - so she put her hand against the mini-tanks wall and pulled even harder onto the cable, directing a small portion of that energy being supplied towards the vehicle and its occupant. The molecules reacted and speed up quickly making the metal hot to the touch. The temperature climbed and she could tell he was noticing the discomfort and continued to monitor him in what was now an oven.
Grace and an RCMP officer entered the building with Cameron putting a finger to her lips in an effort to shush them. Outside the generator made a loud clank then wheezed as it grinded noisily to a stop.
Taking the opportunity presented, Cameron called out “Hey Mr. Bites, did you know there are flames underneath your tank? I’m sorry but it’s getting kinda hot - so I’ll be leaving now”. Going quiet momentarily Cameron then added “I gotta say though: being cooked alive is one lousy way of dying. Did you want to give a message to next of kin?”
It was silent, the tanks occupant not responding, so Cameron upped the temperature again, he would probably pass out soon.
“Kid! you still there?” he called out, his slurred speech giving evidence to his condition.
Cameron gave it a dramatic pause, then answered “Whatever you’ve got to say, make it short” Cameron waved Grace and the officer over to listen.
JD had been worried that talking would be a death sentence; but considering that he and Remi might as well be dead anyways, it didn’t matter anymore: “We are members of a mercenary hit squad working for the MCO, the contract for you is worth $250,000. Dead!”
“Thanks” was Cameron’s befuddled reply, as she drew energy back from out of the man and the mini-tank, it resulted in the temperature dropping back down.“Officer. The man inside has 2 pistols and a knife in his boot” informed Cameron as she unsealed the hatch and knocked Bites out cold.
Grace carried Cameron outside to the waiting ambulance and set her onto a gurney; the EMT conducted an examination and had to question the burnt clothing that no longer covered much of Cameron’s torso, plus the obvious track marks across her pyjama legs - but no sign of injury anywhere. Cameron was about to answer when a wave of nausea hit, she curled into a ball as the pain emanating outward from her groin overtook her senses, grabbing Grace’s hand Cameron managed to whisper “Call Doc Russell - the gender specialist. I’m in trouble!”.
End Chapter 1.
A Matter of Fact: Chapter 2 (parts 4 – 6)
By Camospam
March 27, 2007. Prince George, BC
Who might be so brazen to actually believe they have the right to decide what somebody else’s life should be? While a parent might guide a child into adulthood, and a true friend should only offer ideas as support, but really - just what type of person is it that would dictate to another: who you are?
Mike Williamson remembered well the ethics discussion his law teacher evoked among his classmates at university, Mike could see the wisdom and justice behind giving people both the power and freedom to choose a life themselves: what to believe, who to marry, where to live - how to live. The right to choose was central to who he was and what he stood for, but now here he was: forced into a position where he had to decide another persons future.
Mike had stayed awake most of last night trying reconcile what to do; he discovered in his ponderings that few people hold even a basic notion as to what is good and proper … perhaps for themselves maybe - but to encumber someone else with the repercussions of a poor choice; not a task to be taken lightly, nor one for the faint of heart to even try and attempt.
Mike’s head nested heavily between his folded hands, the strength to keep it upright any longer eluding him. Recalling a judge’s counsel: ‘Risking another’s life and juggling cats are two endeavours that grant little forgiveness’. He hadn’t seen the truth in that sentiment until today.
Once more Mike scanned the faces seated around the table, each weary participant reflecting the same worry and anxiety he was feeling. These assembled few met in the Care Centre’s conference room; after Mike had sought out Cameron’s valued friends, they willing joined him knowing the severity of Cameron’s situation.
Mike as guardian needed to give direction on how to care for Cameron’s immediate physical wellbeing. Cameron was currently incapacitated; sedated in the Intensive Care Unit at the PG Hospital. She had succumbed to severe pain resulting from her transgendered condition; with the male organs having begun to suddenly begin developing at an accelerated pace, asserting themselves just as Doctor Russel had cautioned. However, Cameron’s body was still too fragile, not having recovered enough from the debilitating effects of her coma, thereby making an operation very risky.
It had been hoped that given time, Cameron would have been able to gain strength and developed more physically in her recovery – as well as having grown a little older and bigger to permit an easier transition, maybe allow Cameron to make her own decision and an informed choice. The very course which the doctors had recommended before a corrective surgery would be attempted.
Time didn’t wait, and now neither could Cameron.
Mike dealt with law and the order it brought, his burden: would his decision do Cameron justice? He was not accustomed to making so serious a judgement, but Cameron’s life rested upon his shoulders; and he felt that weight.
Tanya Nelson at Arkham had postulated in a conference call that Cameron might have accelerated her physically development due to the increased energy intake when she was ‘hooked up’ to the generator, much like a cold-blooded lizard warming itself in the sun, she started growing from that energy intake. Regardless, Arkham was puzzled as this case was reverse to a typical manifestation that would generate its own energy, hence their suggestion that Cameron must draw upon external energy sources.
Nevertheless, Cameron’s life was in danger! the dilemma being discussed needed resolution soon, since the situation had become life threatening. Ready or not, it looked like a surgery needed to happen now!
Joan: Cameron’s psychologist, had joined those gathered, being asked to hopefully bring insight into Cameron’s mental health. Joan’s assessment was: that while Cameron was indeed physically small, she had a strength of spirit surpassing those of far greater years. Certainly she was still working through her grief – the loss of her family being an emotional rollercoaster, but she was moving forward, exhibiting courage, determination, and an uncommon resilience rarely found in such a young person. From discussions during their sessions Cameron had only just begun to work through the challenge of becoming a boy, and while not embracing the transition - had not resisted its necessity. All in the room being relieved in hearing a positive report - especially Mike.
Mike looked again into the eyes of his companions, valuing the thoughts and concerns each had raised at the table, the shed tears a testament to the impact that the young girl had had upon everyone in the short time she was a part of their lives. Could the frail girl withstand a surgery, let alone handle the emotional and psychological strain a forced sex change would bring?
That was the burden Mike struggled with.
The call to Doctor Russell providing direction to proceed with the sex reassignment surgery was made after receiving the consent of all those who had Cameron’s interests at heart.
March 29, 2007. PG General Hospital
The surgery was squeezed into the operating theatres schedule and slated to start at 10:00 pm; estimated to take 5 hours. Dr. Russell exited from surgery at 5:00 am to let the worried waiting room occupants hear that it had been successful.
The recovery room in Intensive Care that Cameron was placed into was private however not quiet, the nurses station across the hall being a hub of activity. Cameron was constantly monitored, the anesthetic used in the operation would take several hours to ebb, however a vigil had been established between members of Cameron’s new family permitting each to take a turn watching over her – him; all caught themselves using an improper noun and could only imagine how sensitive Cameron might become to the gender switch.
Cameron first stirred that afternoon: during Grace’s watch, Cameron groggily looked over to see Grace – a smile forming weakly on the youth’s colourless face, Grace tenderly held Cameron’s hand till he calmly slid back asleep.
March 30, 2007. PG General Hospital
Cameron laughed at the joke told by the middle-aged man sporting a bronze suntan with bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, he sat across from Cameron. Two benches had been arranged to face each other to permit talking and yet let the passengers casually watch the landscape outside the window pass by.
This unfamiliar man’s anecdote had been about naming his ranch “Passing Wind” which bespoke how deeply he cared for his family business as wind farmers. The man’s wife sat beside Cameron; her beauty not having faded from her youth as the long black tresses of hair floated over her shoulders - she chuckled along with the tale being told but hints of an ongoing feud over the implications such a name presented carried in the undercurrents.
An exceptionally attractive young woman sat kitty-corner - occasionally sneaking glances at Cameron: her emerald green eyes looking right through his soul, her sculpted face with high cheek bones and pert upturned nose was framed by raven hair obviously a gift from her mother. Each brief moment of eye contact felt like absolute terror combined with the highest elation: Cameron was warring over the urge to run away and the insatiable desire to look once more into those beautiful eyes.
The girl shyly commented “Daddy can’t wait to get back to ‘Passing Wind’” to which her father quickly slid in “Who said I ever stopped” eliciting a groan from his wife and laughter from all others in the little party.
Cameron begrudgingly opened his eyes and let fly a moan of frustration mixed with curiosity. Yet another dream to dissect! He lay still working through each scene trying to find a link to the now. There had been a series of disturbing dreams, which might just have been the result of the sedatives - or maybe more glimpses into future events. Only time would tell.
Yesterday Cameron had shaken the anesthetic’s effects, and while being as hungry as a bear coming out of hibernation, had to wait until today to eat solid food. Mike Williamson had been in conversation with a nurse when Cameron squeaked out a “Hello”.
“You’re up! I’ll let Dr. Russell know” stated the nurse who then left the room.
Mike Williamson sat on the edge of the bed and asked “How do you feel?”
“Starving, and my mouth feels like I’ve been eating paste.” pausing a second before adding “before you ask, not one of my finest moments”
“There’s some water here for you, and breakfast is coming. Do you know what’s happened?”
“I’ve pieced it together; sorry about giving you a scare.” Said the youth with downcast eyes “I guess life is just a series of challenges and changes, I’m glad you’re here to help me face them”.
“I … We had to make sure you would be okay” Mike managed to say with a shake in his voice.
“Looks like I have a lot of adjustments to make, honestly though I’ve no clue what being a guy entails.” Taking a close look at Mike who bore a worried expression “But foremost: Thank You. I’m alive and that’s what counts most” intoned Cameron, motioning Mike into a hug, which didn’t part for a long time as Cameron let a couple sniffles escape.
“It’s okay to cry” comforted Mike holding tight.
“Men don’t cry” sighed Cameron.
“Of course we do. We just like saving it for special occasions: and this counts – so go ahead.”
Cameron’s tears didn’t come as a raging torrent, just a slow steady stream as pent-up emotions burst the dam, being held was a comfort and relief. Cameron so desperately wanted to hear Mom say ‘she was going to be okay’ as she always did no matter what Cameron’s problem might be, but Mom wasn’t there and that void was as big a hurt as the fresh physical scars. Cameron replayed in her mind the many times her mother had held her tight – those memories helped, and reminded Cameron that love might have been lost but was found again in the hearts of friends.
Still held in the embrace Cameron spoke “My dad gave his last to protect my life, I think he would be very happy that you respected his wish”.
Mikes breath caught as a lump in his throat as those words hit home, it turned out to be one of those special occasion days for Mike as well.
Grace and Marcus stopped in to visit early in the evening to cheer up the bedridden youth who was yearning for company, although the child had been kept busy once the Hospital staff discovered Cameron was back: doctors began bringing patients in for Cameron to make examinations, with who in mere seconds could detail a physical ailment. However, Cameron did not volunteer to heal anyone; understanding the need to be discrete and didn’t think it wise to possibly take energy away from ‘his’ own healing. Cameron’s battery had dipped considerably after the new high reached with the generator, the internal battery gauge sat in the low zone once more.
Grace had brought along the laptop, a not so coy hint that Cameron needed to get back into the routine of living, with school work being a good reminder. A comment about Grace being a slave driver was delivered and laughed at, but it had been an act of love and concern - a nudge to see how deeply Cameron had been shaken, and if the youth’s determination remained intact.
Grace sat on the bed close to Cameron holding his hand “How are you feeling?” was compassionately asked as pleading eyes looked for truth.
Cameron’s face was solemn “I hurt” was the loaded response as the physical, emotional, and psychological pain was evident upon the youth.
Grace bent down and gently kissed his forehead while Marcus put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder “We’re here for you” they said in unison.
In a sigh of resignation Cameron spoke softly “I don’t know who I am anymore, boy – girl, human – mutant.” Watery eyes blinked and a sniffle later “nothing is the same anymore and it scares me.”
“Considering you’ve just been newly recruited into joining the Guy’s Club, I’ll let you in on a secret” confided Marcus “Guy’s are just as scared as girls, they only act tough because that’s how they show love”
“That makes no sense!” rebuffed Cameron
“Emotions don’t have to make sense - because they come from the heart” soothed Marcus “Guys have all the same feelings your used to, it’s just that they tend to handle them a little differently.” After giving the trembling youth a reassuring smile Marcus continued “I promise you’ll understand when your daughter is scared by a thunderstorm.”
The remainder of the evening was spent in quiet conversation to allow Cameron some rest and bolster his spirit, before leaving Marcus asked if there was anything that Cameron needed, a shy question was asked: “As much as I loved my Dad; he was a terrible singer… would you teach me?” Marcus agreed to take him on as a pupil.
April 3, 2007
Dr. Russell finished his examination, the amazement evident upon his face at how quickly Cameron had healed after the surgery - along with no complications… of course Cameron’s ministrations aided the recovery greatly. The doctor took some time to discuss with Cameron the newest details regarding what the research scientists looking into the toxins effects had been able to discover: findings firmly establishing that the bullets chemicals did indeed cause gender related issues in laboratory testing; if you could get past the 99.8 percent mortality rate experienced in the fruit flies used.
This proof now providing further ‘ammunition’ in the mediation negotiations Mike was undertaking.
The really good news was Cameron could be released back to the Care Centre that afternoon, Dr. Kathy would handle all further check-ups, Cameron thanked the doctor; reaching up from his wheelchair to shake the surgeons hand.
Farewells to the hospitals doctors and nurses was heartfelt, as Grace was pushing Cameron out through the Hospital entrance, a woman called out “Wait”.
“Your Cameron aren’t you?” asked the vaguely familiar lady.
“Yes” was the tentative reply.
“I’m Eric’s Mom, you met him before a medical appointment.”
“Oh yes, little boy that loves dinosaurs” remarked Cameron, recalling the brief encounter “how is he?”
“Sadly he died two weeks ago” a comment that obviously shook the woman and made Cameron gasp in grief “He wanted me to give you something” she dug into her purse, and brought out a small T-Rex keychain “He wasn’t expected to live too much longer when you two met, somehow he recovered enough to be able to fulfill his dream – visiting the Dinosaur Museum in Alberta, he bought this for you; to say ‘Thank You’, and asked me to make sure you got it.”
Tears escaped and tracked paths down Cameron’s face as he graciously accepted the gift and expressed sincere regrets over the boys passing, Grace gave the woman a hug saying how sorry she was.
The ladies underlying curiosity needing satiating, “How did you manage to help Eric?”
“I don’t really know, only that I asked his body to fight the cancer … I just wanted to help him.”
“You did! Thank you.”
Cameron was sorrowful for the next while holding the little T-Rex memorial tightly, Grace left some room for Cameron to ponder the exchange as the handibus pulled up in front of RCMP headquarters, Cameron’s wheelchair was being unloaded when it dawned upon him they had not arrived at the Centre.
“What are we doing here? I gave statements to the police in Hospital” asked a confused Cameron.
“The RCMP suggested a meeting once you got released” was Graces reply.
At the entrance to the RCMP station, an officer met them to act as an escort to a meeting space. Seated in the room was Mike Williamson along with 2 other men. Mike introduced them as Ray Martin and John Bastain: identifying each as members of an RCMP Special Investigation’s Team.
Ray started off “Cameron, we believe it won’t be safe having you return to the Care Centre. The assassination attempts mean it’s a known location for you. The RCMP think placing you somewhere secure; under protective custody, is the best way to keep you safe.”
John added “Your still on a hit list, we’ve found out the price has risen substantially so we are certain more attempts will be made.”
Cameron sat quiet for a moment “I don’t want to put anyone in jeopardy … sorry! Wrong description to use about the Care Centre” the two men had puzzled expressions while Mike and Grace both chuckled since each had experienced the TV event in the Rec Room. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt anyone at the Centre” said Cameron with his head dropping onto his chest.
“Alright, we have a perfect location ready for you, its a small farm on the outskirts of town: remote and easy to protect. Mike has found a caregiver who will look after you, and I have a detail prepared to keep guard” informed Ray.
“Why?” asked a perplexed Cameron.
“Why does somebody want you dead? The simple answer: you are a mystery, and some people believe that makes you a threat - so, even if you are not a mutant, having abilities makes people scared” informed Ray. “I don’t think it’s just the MCO responsible either, there might just be other organizations out there who are driving the attacks.”
Cameron had to say “But Andrea is nice!”
“He was a man of conscience, and had been helping us collect information against the MCO” added Ray.
“Was!” spat out the shocked youth.
“You hadn’t heard? Sorry about that: Andrea Gatineau was killed. It looks to have been the same two that came after you” was sadly offered by Mike, “I have something from him for you” holding out to Cameron an envelope “he arranged identification for you, it arrived at my office a few days after he died.”
Cameron opened the envelope, reading aloud the letter printed on MCO letterhead: “Dear Miss Burke. I am pleased to be able to provide you legal documentation that identifies you as not being a mutant and therefore not under the authority of the Mutant Commission Office.
Should you encounter any difficulties establishing your status: the phone number printed upon this identity cards reverse side is a direct link to the MCO’s central registration database, verification of your file can be provided to any agent or agency that questions the legitimacy of your identification. Have whoever doubts your authenticity call the number and use the access codes printed on this card.
Please accept my deepest apologies for the situation you have been forced to face. I hope this identification card will make future dealings with the MCO less difficult. Regards Andrea Gatineau, MCO Regional Director.”
Cameron studied the card closely and asked “Is Alexis an okay name for a guy?”
The smirk on everyone’s face supplied the answer “If pressed I can use Alex, but I’m sticking with Cameron.”
“Had you thought about using a code name?” questioned Ray “It isn't that your legally required to have one in Canada - unless you want one, but it could help protect you.”
The youth held a furrowed brow and pursed lips as he puzzled the question, then announced “Outlook”.
Unspecified location
The safe house arranged by the RCMP turned out to be an old homestead that had been vacant for a couple years, it was a modest little 3-bedroom house along with a second ‘hired hand’ house, the property also had a couple outbuildings and barn. Nothing about the quiet secluded site attracting attention, the remote location adding to the safety afforded.
The RCMP had been very accommodating in watching over Cameron: assigning a single guard onsite and an unmarked car parked a distance down the single access road. Mike had arranged for a very nice lady named Joyce to take care of meals and cleaning, she and her daughter Abigail lived in the second home.
Over-all the location was peaceful and scenic with Mike even ensuring there was internet for continuation of distance school. Cameron’s physical condition had improved to the point where he could walk independently and relished regaining the freedom that being in a wheelchair had denied him. He had begun to grow again which thrilled him greatly: since awakening from the coma he had shot up 2 whole inches, the irksome short jokes persisted, but that the coma was behind him was evident in his resumed growth.
Cameron enjoyed his new territory and spent days exploring and tinkering around the home. Abigail was a cheerful 10-year-old with Downs Syndrome and they became fast friends, their daily rounds included visiting the closest neighbours: a couple named Brown, it was a highlight both for the kids and the elderly couple who struggled to keep their little farm running; for them the company was pleasant – but especially the help they provided in tending to the garden.
Cameron enjoyed gardening: deciding to plant a garden back at the safe house. By putting to use what the Browns’ had taught him: he’d found gardening was good exercise for a body with limitations, as well it afforded Cameron practise in using his abilities - and he got school credit to boot: a ‘win, win, win’ as Abigail called it. Daily walking and gardening helped build up Cameron’s strength and stamina, physiotherapy had paid off by getting his body to move again, the frequency of medical appointments had been reduced due to his recovery.
Each day brought with it new discovery’s, most importantly had been finding out how to draw upon energy sources: the sun was amazing – a great furnace in the sky providing an unending supply once Cameron figured out how to soak it in. Also, to make the most of that power source he observed how the suns rays effected different elements and from that knowledge designed solar collectors; building 10 and setting some around the yard to charge batteries which Cameron would drain daily.
Cameron also found that his Sunroom had just enough space for 4 collectors, which helped provide a continuous charge into his personal battery. It was by chance that he discovered being able to soak up energy from the night sky: each point of light being suns as well - just further away.
One morning after waking in a sweat due to a troubling dream, Cameron began in earnest experimenting with how his energy absorbing worked, in combination with his sight he learned two vital truths:
Joyce called Mike Williamson worried since Cameron had been asking Abby to throw objects like rocks and tools at him all day, Abby seemed to enjoy the game and Cameron wasn’t hurt – but certainly not normal behaviour, hence more sessions with Joan the psychiatrist to allay the grown-up’s fears.
Opportunity was plentiful to experiment with abilities now, which sometimes meant Cameron was in a deep introspective state examining what his ‘sight’ showed him while using various combined layers.
He would move about the yard, practising building, repairing or breaking most anything found laying around. Cameron had early-on gone around both houses effecting repairs; learning about plumbing and electrical while shoring up the structures, the end result being the buildings now stood more solid then when first built. Even his RCMP guard was drawn into this game as they would bring the most obscure items they could find in order to give him a challenge.
Due to the game everyone had joined playing Cameron found he could manifest pre-printed paper with whatever he needed on it; very handy for school reports. Abby joked that he was the ‘human photo copier - watch out for paper cuts!’
Cameron rarely left the safe house without being guarded by RCMP officers, most outings only had him attending medical or legal appointments. Whenever guests like Grace and Marcus came to visit: security procedures had to be followed, but Marcus had kept his word and was instructing Cameron with 2 singing lessons a week.
Cameron had been able to learn extra by watching Marcus alter his voice box, Cameron could now mimic Marcus and was becoming a reasonable singer. Marcus grumbled that he had had to do it the old-fashioned way (practise, practise, practise). Cameron loved the lessons, but more so the company whenever his dear friends could come.
May 1, 2007. Prince George
MCO Chief Executive Dale Philips stood in the shower with his head under the waters stream, he had been in the shower a long time already washing and re-washing himself, subconsciously trying to get emotionally clean.
He absolutely hated Prince George, the place rubbed him the wrong way like petting a cat backwards, the longer he had to stay the more embittered he was becoming, ‘How is it this bunch of backward hicks honestly think they can question the MCO ? Don’t they realize we’re the worlds only protection against mutants?’
His anger stemming from the fact that HE had to attend legal negotiations to fix up the mess his nephew had left behind; his unfortunate death still an open sore within the family. Dale was mad that one little freak of a kid had the potential to throw a wrench into the works of the great MCO machine. Now HE; a board-member on the MCO’s international executive needed to placate this miserable – whatever it is.
Stepping out of the hotel shower Dale’s cell phone rang, he fumbled with wet hands as he answered “Philips here!”
“Mister Philips, ‘Beady’ calling to check-in.”
Negotiations had not progressing at all according to MCO plans, not with the Goodkind’s folding early citing their acceptance of responsibility and sought a quick resolution, worse still they even presenting a personal apology letter from Bruce Goodkind for the pain and anguish it suffered – let alone the remorse shown over the gender switch.
The settlement the Goodkind’s gave was undisclosed but likely an obscene amount which effectively ended the MCO’s plan to starve it out – now they had gotten into the tactic of wearing them down with minor issues and rebuttals: although that attorney Williamson was sharp, knocking aside nearly everything.
It certainly didn’t help matters that it had survived 3 assassination attempts, worse yet: now those disgraced imbeciles along with a lawyer were sitting in jail - this entire situation could explode.
He grinned considering the two cards still left to play in his hand, and Beady here was one of those.
“Beady, your target will be at the courthouse today for a 9:30 am meeting, you can expect it to have an escort, sending you a picture now. Oh! and Beady, don’t miss!”
“I’m one of the best in the business, 24 confirmed kills, and precautions are being taken. No need to worry” the phone went silent.
‘You’d better be good’ mused Dale destroying the disposable phone ‘we’re beginning to run out of assassins’.
Right after it was released from hospital they put it into protective custody and didn’t return to the retirement home as expected. A martial arts specialist code named Bigfoot had been dispatched to deal with it, but had not been able to locate it when it went into hiding.
The ploy today had been to require its attendance to sort through an impasse, thereby getting it in the open.
Mike Williamson had scheduled the meeting for today at the PG courthouse: the MCO decided they needed a face to face discussion.
Cameron hoped they wanted to personally present an offer like the Goodkind’s had, but was doubtful.
The trip into town was uneventful, the pickup truck driven by his RCMP guard being as non-descript as imaginable. Arriving at RCMP headquarters he was assigned an additional guard and driver, an SUV was issued and the officers got outfitted for todays duty, the entourage arrived a short time ahead of schedule and he was dropped off at the courthouse steps.
Cameron exited the SUV and before he could take a single step two officers flanked him – one on either side, the detail walked up the stairs and they had almost reached the door when Cameron abruptly stopped, his face a jumble of emotions ranging from panic to curiosity.
“Someone just shot at me” stated Cameron: a bullet hung in the air a few hair breadths from his ear: its velocity having been slowed to the extent that it was held motionless in mid-air for a brief second before it dropped to the ground.
Turning to look in the direction the projectile came from a gasp of shock took his breath: a second bullet was sitting within a quarter inch of his visors’ lens. “On the roof-top, building down the street, lone gunman” said Cameron pointing the way to a three-story building over two blocks away, adding “take a camera”.
Cameron was rushed into the building for the protection it offered, one officer remained as a guard – the other calling in reinforcements on his shoulder holstered radio as he started running across the street, the driver jumping out of the car to join him.
The RCMP officers stepped cautiously onto the roof through the staircase door, pistols drawn and held pointing upward. Each officer assigned to guard Cameron had been briefed about what the ‘kid’ had done before, but neither could be ready for the scene they found. A man dressed in sandy coloured camouflage blending into the roofing was laying on a spread-out camouflage blanket and situated between heating units, around him was a thermos and wrapped sandwiches, binoculars, and a carry case presumably for the rifle.
The man was facedown with his head resting against the high powered sniper rifles scope, he wore an odd helmet which looked to be made from tinfoil but painted to match the camouflage, an ungodly snore echoed across the rooftop. The officers chuckled how that the ‘kid’ certainly was creative in ensuring his foe would be caught in the act; this arrest was going to put the station into hysterics, they began snapping photographs and started an audio recording to capture everything.
Back inside the courthouse Cameron and his RCMP guard joined the MCO meeting with Mike making introductions, Cameron was directed to sit across the table from the suited MCO representative named Dale. Cameron removed his visor and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the built-up tension from the near miss just experienced - leaving the visor off Cameron asked “You wanted to meet me?”
Dale was off balance, in part surprised because it was still alive, but more so because of the glowing eyes, that was disconcerting (oh yeah, not a mutant, as if!) went through his mind, the brief shock he felt abated not wanting to reveal his hand: he was preparing to respond with ‘A pleasure to meet you’, however, what came out was “Not really, just wanted to get you in the open.”
Cameron jolted at that admission, but continued by asked “Why would you want that?”
“To give the sniper a clear shot” replied the shocked man in disbelief, obviously not wanting to have revealed that information.
“Did you arrange for someone to try and kill me?” was Cameron’s next rapid fire question.
“Yes. We decided it was the best solution” spoke the man between the fingers of the hand he had rapidly clasped over his mouth in an effort to stop speaking.
At this point, Mike interceded “Cameron, he has confessed to a crime, the man has rights and can’t be interrogated without a lawyer present”. Turning to Cameron’s escort Mike directed “Officer, please arrest him.” Resulting in a set of handcuffs being secured on Dale’s wrists and him getting pulled from the room.
“So, something new I should know about?” asked Mike
“More doctors?”
“More doctors!”
May 7, 2007. Prince George
The ride in the RCMP cruiser was a fun experience for Cameron: who decided that sitting in the front seat of a patrol car was much nicer than to be confined in the back behind the prisoner wall. It had taken a few phone calls to PG’s public works to get permission to visit the ‘Solid Waste Management Facility’, he would have to remember that calling it the ‘dump’ didn’t go over well with the officials he’d spoken with.
He had a school science project about waste recycling and wanted to get first-hand information which would score extra credits for his report.
Even before passing through the gates a certain something special hung in the air, and when both Cameron and his RCMP guard exited the car the smell intensified to the point of gaging. However, once Cameron figured out how to filter it, both he and his guard didn’t even notice it.
The tour was very informative with Cameron asking many questions that surprised the site supervisor at his knowledge and keenness to learn. When Cameron wanted to know ‘how much recyclable material was in a truckload of garbage?’ The supervisor remarked that the true amount wasn’t known – so Cameron asked if he could sort a load. The guide said it could take a person several days to sort through that much garbage but Cameron assured him it would be very quick.
A space was set aside and a loaded truck was emptied, once the truck had left Cameron approached it and made the pile disappear in a bright blue flash, only to reappear in separated stacks and neat piles. The supervisor and guard were astounded but quickly composed themselves, it was arranged for each pile to be weighed or measured which confirmed Cameron’s numbers, the supervisor suggested the same be done with two more loads to build an average, Cameron was happy to comply.
Cameron had plenty of notes to complete his science project and thanked the supervisor for his time, before leaving Cameron made what sounded like an odd request: ‘Would they mind if he took some garbage?’ He explained that he needed some raw materials to work with and garbage seemed like a good source that might benefit everyone.
The site supervisor took him to an inactive area and said to take all he wanted, Cameron walked about with his arms outstretched as large spans of the piled refuse disappeared into the pale blue light, he asked about being allowed to come back for a refill and was told ‘anytime’.
May 15, 2007, Provincial Courthouse
Mike and Karen along with Ray Martin the RCMP Special Investigator, stood in the hallway outside chambers giving Cameron a minute to compose himself, the youth was seated and in a state of bewilderment; collectively they attempted to give him a debrief of what had just happened.
Mike had argued that mediation of Cameron’s case had failed due to the MCO’s acting in bad faith, as evidenced by their ongoing efforts to harm Cameron. So litigation would commence and the parties would go to trial, the MCO then made claim from out of left field that they were a Federally mandated organization and did not fall under Provincial jurisdiction.
Judge Wilkins agreed that the trial should be moved up to Federal Court, and in an apologetic manner dismissed his involvement. Ray added his opinion regarding the move of venue and felt this was the best possible result since a federal trial would have more teeth; should the outcome be favourable – but Cameron worried that it could expose Grace and Marcus as mutants as they would be his key witnesses.
Mike explained an additional twist; while he was in a sidebar conversation with the Judge, Mike was being recommended to get seconded up into the federal system to continue as Cameron’s attorney. They had all sorts of details to arrange, not the least being a trail held in Ottawa: where the MCO was registered at and their mandated base of operations. The group made their way back to Mike’s office, before the discussion could continue in earnest Mike’s phone rang.
“Mike Williamson here… yes, I’m with Outlook … I see, I will ask.” setting the phone aside “Cameron the RCMP have a situation they need your help with, a freight train has derailed and cargo is contaminating the River, they feel you’re the quickest response.”
“I’m ready to go” Cameron’s volunteered without hesitation.
“Your guard is getting briefed” said Mike as a phone rang a few feet away “be careful” was Mike’s parting direction.
Cameron was shuttled by the RCMP via lights and sirens to an awaiting jet-boat to be outfitted with a lifejacket and waterproof poncho, and prior to setting off a description of what had happened was provided: a freight train had derailed in a section of track between two creeks along the Fraser River, the spot was isolated and had no road access, emergency response was limited and time of the essence. Multiple cars had spilled their contents into the River, it was a mixed bag of freight: coal and scrap metal in open top cars, assorted items in boxcars like cars and furniture, various items in c-cans. The train had been 75 cars long; it was the trains crew who reported the accident within minutes of it derailing.
Cameron focused his sight to watch the River once they boarded the jet-boat and began to shoot upstream, the little boat zipped along with a big rooster-tail behind the jet motor. It wasn’t long before Cameron began to see pollutants in the water, positioning himself in the bow of the boat: he began to collect all foreign material out of the water.
As they approached the disaster site: the railcars could be seen piled up into heaps of twisted jagged metal, it had mashed together so badly that it was hard to distinguish in places one car from another. The remains of eight open top cars sat within the River and several more had spilled their loads which lay strewn about with some cargo ended up in the water.
Cameron worked against the swift current which wanted to sweep the trains contents downstream thereby polluting the River, gathering up all the debris he methodically worked cleaning the water and river bottom adjacent to the accident site and then cleared a short distance up the embankment to prevent further contaminants from reaching the water. As the jet-boat crept forward it permitted Cameron to make an even larger buffer between the wreckage and Rivers edge, the jet-boat beached and the small crew stepped ashore.
A contingent of men who had been clambering over the mangled freight cars approached and identified themselves as being with the railroad company, they had been flown in and joined the trains crew to begin surveying the accident site. These men had been endeavouring to determine the cause of the derailment and been detailing the damage by photographing the scene, they had been distracted watching Cameron in the River and simply could not fathom what they had just witnessed.
Cameron stood trying to take in the retched vista before him when his sight caught a frightful image: three bodies inside an overturned and upended boxcar. Calling out for help Cameron cleared a beeline path directly up to what he feared might be casualties, flashes of pale blue light resulted in the instant disappearance of sections of railcars to open a route.
In Cameron’s frantic haste to reach the people, he started to stagger causing an officer to step beside him and lend support - cautioning him to pace himself. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath he attempted to assess the three while still 20 yards away, relieved to find that all three had lived - but sustained serious injuries.
As rapidly as he could he cleared a swath up to the railcar – then the boxcars side disappeared displaying that the car was full of mattresses: which explained how the occupants survived, but hadn’t prevented injuries once the trains cars started cascading into each other.
Cameron directed the rescuers to each survivor and let others extract them, the first rescued was the one which looked to have the most critical wounds. Cameron could see the collapsed lung and crushed chest – steadying himself he remembered Graces first aid instruction: breathing first!
Kneeling beside the severely injured boy he set about healing the skeletal and muscular damage around the lungs and heart, when the heart was able to pump more easily an open wound began to bleed freely which Cameron mended rapidly before blood loss would further endanger the young mans life.
Once Cameron was confident that the worst of the young boy’s injuries had been cared for Cameron asked someone to watch over him while Cameron then switched to another of the victims that had been extracted.
The second patient; a young girl, had a broken hip and leg, as well as cracked all the ribs on her left side - no doubt making her breathing laboured. Again attending to breathing first Cameron rejoined ribs and as the lungs began to rise and fall the colour returned to the young ladies face.
Interrupted Cameron was called over to the third person just being freed from the wreckage, a child whose serious head injury sent a shudder down Cameron’s back, she also had a broken shoulder and arm - but her unresponsive state had warranted the rescuers concern.
Cameron began a deep scan of the girl’s brain and found damage had occurred to the soft tissue when the cranium was crushed, Cameron patched together the skull fractures then relieving the swelling and knitted together the brain as best as the situation allowed, he repaired the broken bones and ensured her vital signs were stable before returning to the young woman he’d helped before.
She was conscious and responsive now that she could breath, but stayed immobile as undoubtedly the pain her injuries would create must be screaming at her. Kneeling beside her Cameron noted an aurora around her head, he gently asked if she would allow him to render aid?
A puzzled look was all Cameron received until a slight head nod was given, so Cameron focused on her nervous system to block pain receptors before starting to reconnect the broken hip and leg bones.
One of the railroaders had called for help over a satellite phone which dispatched the medivac helicopter, the air ambulance arrived setting down in the clearing amid the wreckage which Cameron had opened up. Grace jumped out attired as the emergency inflight nurse, and after giving Cameron a brief hug attended to the injured three, Cameron gave her a commentary on the damage each had sustained and what had been repaired as Grace conducted physical exams.
Graces three patients got secured onto beds and loaded into the helicopter. Before sealing up the doors Grace tossed Cameron a small backpack and gave a thumbs up as the helicopters engine wailed warming up with the blades beginning to rotate.
Stepping away Cameron opened the pack to find it filled with granola bars, fruit, and water bottles 'ah! the voice of experience speaks' thought Cameron.
Taking a break Cameron sat and gratefully opened a drink, everyone onsite stopped and collected together around Cameron who shared the provisions.
A message had been received that the railway would send recovery equipment, clean-up crews, and track rebuilding teams who could start arriving tomorrow, it was going to take a week for the railways teams to clear the tracks and get them open again.
Cameron was quiet for a minute inwardly scanning the contents held in his Warehouse and checked his battery, then looked around at the disaster site.
“What’s going to happen to all this debris?” was Cameron’s sincere question.
The railroads folks’ reply was uncertain as their foremost concern was to get trains moving again: this cargo was lost to them and would just be disposed of.
Cameron’s next question of “Can I have it?” derived blank stares from the men.
Eventually one of the group hazarded a response of “Sure”.
It had been a long day, Cameron was weary from having walked the length of the accident several times, dematerializing the destroyed railcars and their contents had been a huge drain upon his energy reserve, his battery once more showing depletion. Each railcar had to be cataloged and photographed which took time before moving onto the next.
The ‘Warehouse’ barely registering everything that had been collected, but it all sat sorted and piled waiting future use.
The accident scene had been very neatly cleansed with all spilled contents having been removed and the mangled railcars gone. The tracks had been left alone as the accident investigators wanted to trace what had caused the upset, the area still had scars however: the earth had deep gouges and trees had been torn out of the ground and splintered.
The railroad investigators huddled together to discuss what each had witnessed and build a theory as to the cause for the accident. Cameron approached the group and returned to them a wheel set that had seemed odd to Cameron since one wheel had fractured in half, this item held the railways attention for a long time.
Cameron gave the group room to continue their discussion allowing himself a moment to gauge how to breach the topic of the untouched c-can: its misshapen husk sitting alone in contrast to the otherwise debris free area. Cameron hadn’t known what to do with the radioactive material being transported inside.
The stunned expressions from the group confirmed that its presence was not anticipated. Cameron described what was within the still sealed c-can, all the contents being of a military nature: guns, ammunition, and other weapons. However, the radioactive cargo which was being shipped had been held in 6 sealed containers looking like steel drums having containment packaging layered inside, all of the drums had damage but two had split open allowing radioactivity to release and spread throughout the c-can.
The railway men gathered what information they could about the shipping container before sheepishly asking if Cameron was able to ‘dispose’ of radioactive waste?
Cameron had learned to draw from the suns radiation but this had a different feel to it, nasty – raw, unfiltered, the very reason he didn’t touch it earlier.
Cameron tentatively said he would try, stepping close to the metal container he reached out to get a feel for the radioactivity, the decaying nuclear energy it gave off was not so dissimilar to removing heat from an object to cool it, but it took some tinkering with the atomic structure to drain away the energy, he’d started with just a small spot but could now widen out and eventually he cleared all trace, the result ended up being a nice boost into his near empty battery.
The RCMP asked that the c-can contents be left in place so this shipping container could be investigated.
Cameron had difficulty remaining awake for the trip back, he was exhausted and kept nodding off as he rested awkwardly against his RCMP guard in the jet boat. When they swapped vehicles he also quickly fell asleep in the truck on the return back to the safe house.
At dinner he polished off three servings of lasagna: a new record, and was hardly cognisant to everybody’s fingers pointing him to his bedroom that evening.
May 16, 2007. Prince George RCMP Safe House
Cameron had not awoken feeling rested - wanting to still sleep for a couple hours more, yesterday had put too great a strain upon him physically. The smell of pancakes and Abby’s cheerful wake-up call couldn’t be ignored, so ‘Grumpy’ rolled out of bed and was the target of teasing and merriment until getting pushed out the front door to face the day.
The RCMP had sent a car to pick-up Cameron and bring him to the office, an official record of yesterday had to be filed along with a statement about the weapons cache.
This wasn’t the first-time Cameron had entered the RCMP station, on those prior occasions typically the officers present would only give him a glance – a few would acknowledge him. Today stepping through the doors: all eyes locked onto him then applause erupted, Cameron modestly bowed his head, the Captain walked up and shook his hand in thanks - as he directing Cameron to a conference room.
Mike was the first to move when Cameron entered “See! the returning hero” stated Mike to Cameron’s reddened cheeks.
The room held men from the railway who each expressed thanks and their congratulations which abated Cameron’s nervousness. Cameron provided them a description for the record of what he had found and done, printing off an inventory of everything that had been cleaned up, as well as providing detailed maps of the accident site showing the placement of each car.
The men excitedly pouring over the information Cameron had given saying this was ideal to help establishing the events and cause, plus it would help settle everything with insurance.
The men spotted an anomaly in Cameron’s inventory: he listed a number of automobiles that did not correspond with the railways records, a search on the police database showed them to be stolen and likely getting shipped overseas, stepping outside Cameron manifested the three rare cars: a candy apple red 58 Corvette, a Lamborghini Countach, and an Austin Martin Vantage. They had not faired well in the train wreck, the destroyed masterpieces elicited groans from the car buffs present. Photos were collected and notifications sent to the owners that their cars had been found.
Returning to the meeting room the Railroad rep’s broached the subject of payment, causing Cameron’s mouth to drop and run like a scared rabbit spurting out how he could return all the trains contents.
The men reassuringly told Cameron that he could keep what had been collected from the accident since the railway’s insurance covered the loss of freight from accidents. They actually wanted to find out how much Cameron wanted to be paid for his efforts?
Mike took the lead and asked what an incident such as this might cost the company, their figures astounded the youth – needless to say Mike’s suggestion of a half million brought smiles to the railway company reps, ‘a very agreeable price’ using their words, they also offered Cameron a VIP Card granting him rail passage anytime.
As the meeting ended, Mike remained to discuss the trial, Ray and John from Special Investigations joining them, Ray began by explaining how moving Cameron’s case up to Federal Court would tie together many of the other crimes that SI had been investigating against the MCO, a successful judgement would establish a precedence that would benefit other folks; possibly including Grace’s arrest and shooting.
SI was putting a lot of eggs into Cameron’s basket because so many had been hurt by the MCO, Cameron’s role would be pivotal toward building a successful case and bringing the MCO to justice.
The question put forward was: “How did Cameron feel about going to trial?”
Cameron explained he could not expose his friends – especially without speaking with them about it first, Grace and Marcus had spent years running and hiding just so they could have their own lives, Cameron would not take that away from them.
The meeting ended with Cameron only being able to say he would think it over. Next came providing the RCMP statements which took several hours before he was done.
Climbing into the safe-house truck, his guard asked “Where to?” which was a first.
Cameron had to pause before responding “Can we go see the accident survivors?” which his driver called in and was approved by dispatch.
The three-young people pulled from the wreckage had been admitted into PG hospital as: John, Jane and Zoey Doe. None had identification on them and the two older ones had refused to give their names, the third was still unconscious and placed into the Intensive Care Unit.
The RCMP had posted an officer at the door who Cameron recognized as being from his own guard detail and they spoke for a short time joking about how Cameron was no longer good enough for him.
Cameron was granted entrance and found the male confined to bed: although awake and responsive, he now had a high intensity glow emitting from his torso, the female still had that aurora around her head: she was seated in a chair beside the male.
“Hello, my name is Cameron, are you two up to having a visitor?”
“You were at the train yesterday?” quizzed the girl.
“Yes, I helped tend to your injuries” replied Cameron “Are you feeling better?”
“I remember you: you’re a mutant!” stated the girl.
“No, actually, I’m not, but I do have abilities” calmly answered Cameron.
“If you have powers you have to be a mutant” stated the boy in a curt ‘matter of fact’ way.
“Honestly, nobodies been able to explain that just yet; so a verdict hasn’t come in, but I’ve got a card that says I’m not a mutant - if you’d like to see it … is that why you’re scared - because your both mutants?” Cameron linked their concern together with what he could see.
“We aren’t” was all the boy got out before the girl put a hand on his shoulder interrupting him “We can trust him, I read him, he won’t turn us over.”
“Okayyy, can we start over? Hi, I’m Cameron.”
“I’m Rachelle, and my brother Tim” motioned the girl to the bedded boy “you’ve met our little sister Charlotte.”
“And am I right in saying you’re …?” Asked Cameron waiting for them to make the admission.
“Twins? yes we are – though not identical.”
“Can’t see the resemblance” returned Cameron, briefly lifting his visor.
“How did you get anyone to believe you’re not a mutant?” barked Tim.
“It’s not in my blood” responded Cameron, then focused deep and saw the telltale genetic markers in the twins “how long ago did you two manifest?”
“You’re with the Police! Heard you real chummy with them outside the door” complained Tim.
“No, well yes – they’re my guards! Ohh that sounds bad. I’m being protected! and they’ve been really good to me” defended Cameron.
“He’s telling partial truths” interjected Rachelle.
“And you’ve been playing me the fool, not a nice way to treat someone who has only ever tried to help you” stated Cameron. “I didn’t come to interrogate you or turn you over to the MCO. I’m the one that found you wedged between mattress’s, helped heal your wounds. And I came to see you because I was worried about you… Good enough?” exclaimed Cameron as he stared at Rachelle who gave a slight head nod “Then will you kindly get outta my head!” Rachelle nodded and Cameron felt the pressure at his temples ebb.
“Listen, we’re sorry, we’ve had to hide who / what we are for a year now, our father hates mutants. He’s a Humanity First chapter leader, but he didn’t find out about us until our sister began to manifest – she was building up into a difficultly manifestation and needed medical help” explained Tim “Keeping what we are secret has become second nature, sorry we didn’t trust you”
“I do understand. So what …? You ran away?” responded Cameron letting their effort at playing him go.
“No, Dad ran us out of town, he’s a sergeant with the Calgary Police, and he sic’d the MCO after us, we managed to escape and found a train heading to the coast.” supplied Tim
“Vancouver?” asked Cameron to an affirmative nod “Someplace to go there?”
“There’s a team of hero mutants, we hoped they might be able to help us” added Rachelle.
Cameron mused for a second “Well!... The MCO are chasing their tails in town right now - and are definitely under-staffed, you should be safe for a time here. The Mountie’s just have a man outside to protect you, although the railroad folks might need to ask you questions in case you know how-come the train derailed. All in all, no immediate danger.” assured Cameron “Now, should we check up on your sister?”
The twins nodded agreement however Tim needed to stay put since his wounds still had him immobile. Cameron’s dutiful guard walked a few steps behind Rachelle and Cameron as they made their way across the hospital to the ICU ward.
“You know your way around!” surmised Rachelle.
“Spent a lot of time here” was the pained response.
“You’re not normal, are you?” questioned Rachelle in a whisper.
“Nice of you to notice” was Cameron’s similarly spoken reply with an added smirk “Why do you ask?”
“Your mind, it’s too organized and structured for a kid.”
“I don’t know what to say to that … it’s the only mind I’m familiar with” after a brief moment adding “Do you think I’m dangerous?”
“No, I wouldn’t have let you help us if you were” assured Rachelle “But you have a major presence, you stand out.”
“That can’t be good!” sighed Cameron “Anyway to turn it down?”
“Maybe? I’m new to this stuff, but I’ll help you if you like?”
“I would appreciate it greatly” smiled Cameron “ICU is just down this corridor.”
As usual ICU was a hub of activity, a constant din emitting from banks of monitors tracking vital signs, the nurses station directed the pair to a room housing a terrified looking child. The wires and tubes twisted like snakes across the girl, the high-pitched scream of “Rach!” cut through the entire ward which seemed to stop everyone for a second, the girls’ sister bounded over the distance to the bed and gently touched the little ones’ face.
“What happened to you? I thought you guys died!” whispered the bedded girl as tears worked their way down a face just released from anxiety.
“They have us in another room, Tim’s okay but needs to rest – but trust you to get the royal treatment!” joked the older sister.
“Really?” puzzled the wide eyed girl.
“Sure, only special people get this kind of attention” added the older sister just as a nurse entered into the room hearing the tone of the conversation.
“How is our Princess doing?” chimed the good natured ICU nurse “Ohh! Cameron. Your back! Are you hurt?”
“Not this time, and I’m doing well – thanks to you! Do you know which Doctor will be taking care of our guest?” commented Cameron.
“They have Amanda on a plane, she will be here within the hour” informed the nurse.
“Wow, she’s the best! Your gonna love her” added Cameron with a smile, observing the energy field around the little girl who was no more the twelve years old.
“Char, this is Cameron – he’s okay!” introduced Rachelle “Cameron – Charlotte.”
“I am honoured to meet you” spoke Cameron with a small bow “are you feeling okay?”
“I’m dizzy and my head hurts, and really tired” replied the girl “Why do you have sunglasses on?”
“My eyes unsettle people so I keep them covered” answered Cameron.
“Can I see them?” asked Charlotte.
“I would be glad to show you later, when your feeling better” Cameron told the girl as the attending physician entered the room “Hi Doc! How are you today.”
“Cameron, good to see you again, I was told you lent a hand with my patients” joked the doctor.
“I had to use some of what you guys taught me… but, umm, Doc, is there a way to keep these three’s identities secret? They had to escape from home, and if their Dad knows where they are - it could be dangerous for them” requested Cameron.
“I can contact Child Services; a social worker will need to talk with them. Is that going to be all-right?” asked the doctor looking to Rachelle who slowly nodded in agreement.
Grace arrived at the hospital after her shift at the Care Centre, Cameron had asked if she would be able to stop by. She greeted Cameron in the hallway with a hug lifting him off the ground and spinning him around “You did great!” she beamed, ruffling his short hair.
“So you, in a helicopter?” smiled Cameron.
“What! I am a fully qualified nurse after all. With EMT experience. They were glad I volunteered to go!” remarked the exemplar.
“And! I was very happy to see you – and, the backpack was appreciated. Thank you.” was Cameron’s gracious reply “Would you like to meet the kids?”
“Kids? kind of odd to call them that, two of them looked to be older than you!” chuckled Grace.
“Oh, hardy har” retorted Cameron, “I don’t understand half of what they say, and they keep looking at me like I’m from the stone age”
“Sound like typical teenagers to me!” reassured Grace “You feeling out of place?”
“Only by eight years and a couple million miles” was Cameron’s dejected response “come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Entering into ICU with Grace was like a homecoming parade, everyone knew her and greeted her warmly. The lighting in Charlotte’s room had been dimmed to help relieve her headache: Rachelle and Tim who was up and about in a wheelchair sat with their sister. Cameron introduced Grace who Rachelle recognized from the helicopter ride. The meet and greet went over great once they found out Grace was also a mutant.
The family of three started to relax more and open up after the social worker had arranged protective custody, and would find a safe place for them to stay when released from hospital.
Dr. Amanda had arrived earlier and been able to make progress with Charlotte, unfortunately her headaches had worsened and Cameron had been asked to scan her a couple times then point out from medical texts what he had seen. After a couple attempts he produced a good image of Charlottes brain for Amanda, it turned out to be most helpful in letting Amanda discern what was wrong; then she needed to make some consultation calls. The doctor had made her diagnoses and returned to find a crowded ICU room.
“Grace, so nice to see you” exclaimed the Doctor.
“Amanda, your back in town. I take it you have another patient” remarked Grace giving the white cloaked woman a hug.
“I was brought in to help yet another special patient” winked the doctor. “Is this a good time to talk?” looking about the room, “I need to speak with Charlotte but would like to have Cameron here as well?
All heads nodded agreement so the doctor commenced to explain the situation: Charlotte’s headaches stemmed from her BIT responding to the injuries incurred during the accident.
Cameron wasn’t familiar with that expression so needed to ask what a BIT is; once it was explained - Charlottes condition was described.
Charlotte was very young to have manifested: typically, when someone is entering puberty the release of hormones is deemed to be the catalyst that triggers mutation. It is not completely unheard of in pre-pubescent individuals to manifest earlier, but it’s rare and always presents problems. Charlotte’s mutation included having a BIT – or body image template, the accident kick-started her BIT which was now forcing her body to alter to fit that ‘mold’, her body was trying to protect itself but hurting her in the process.
Cameron was concerned that he might have caused this to happen and voiced his worry. Dr. Amanda relieved his doubt: saying instead that Cameron had done the best thing possible as it actually slowed Charlottes BIT and prevented it from accelerating wildly before Charlotte was ready.
Amanda was hoping Cameron would be able to help further by convincing Charlottes BIT to in effect go into remission, hopefully waiting until she was a little older and would be able to handle the changes without inflicting so much pain.
A conference call was arranged with Dr. Nelson at Arkham to go over the details of what Cameron was being asked to do, Rachelle and Tim wanted to be part of that conversation while Grace asked to stay with Charlotte.
Grace moved into the chair bedside as the room cleared, she looked closely at the little girl in bed and smiled.
“Your very pretty” remarked Charlotte.
“Why thank you, you’re the cutest princess I’ve ever meet” replied Grace.
“I’m not really a princess, my brother and sister just call me that to make me feel better.”
“Does it? Make you feel better?”
“It reminds me that they love me, and are worried about me.”
“You’ve had a rough go haven’t you?”
“When I first manifested it was bad, I had to go to the hospital - they almost lost me because I was so hot. Then Dad.” Char paused as painful memories swept across her “If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t have had to run away, now we’re lost – and, and, its my fault!”
“You’re not to blame, people hate what they fear, and honestly, your too adorable to be scared of” soothed Grace.
“Then why did Daddy push us away?” begged Charlotte.
“Ohhh hon, change can be hard, you didn’t make your Dad do anything, he chose to let hatred fill his heart – maybe in time he’ll see the life he’s missing out on, but you aren’t to blame.”
“Do you have kids?” was Charlotte’s sincere question.
“I… No, I don’t have any children” stumbled Grace.
“Cameron isn’t your kid?” queried Charlotte.
“I’m not that old! He’s just a really good friend” blushed Graced.
“You’d be a great mom, are you married?” the inquisitive girl asked.
“Thank you, and yes – I’m married” responded Grace “which reminds me, - I should give him a call and tell him what’s happening, would you like to meet my husband?”
“Sure” brightened Charlotte.
“I’ll ask if he can come over” replied Grace as she speed dialed Marcus “Hi hon, I’m at the hospital – no Cameron isn’t hurt again, he has however made some new friends, would you like to come over and meet them? Okay, great, see you in a bit” closing up her phone Grace leaned closer to Charlotte “he’s a sweetheart, you’ll like him.”
The briefing that Dr. Nelson gave provided an outline of what was generally known about BIT’s and how they interacted with DNA, Cameron had studied DNA up close and personal, so when the information Arkham showed them described a BIT as an overlay onto DNA he could grasp what was happening to Charlotte and understood what the Doctors wanted him to do. Cameron was not to interfere with the DNA or BIT, just slow down her bodies sped up metabolism which had triggered a violent assertion of the BIT which was too soon for Char’s young body.
The consequences of not helping Charlotte would be disastrous – most likely fatal so her siblings agreed that Cameron should do what was needed.
Entering the ICU room, they found Grace and Marcus playing a game of ‘go fish’ with Charlotte, Marcus was introduced to Rachelle and Tim with Cameron mentioning that Marcus was a fantastic singer. All three literally begged to hear him with Cameron indicating to Grace that he needed Charlotte distracted, Grace supplied the egging that convinced Marcus to perform: he mesmerized the audience with ‘Blue Bayou’ a Roy Orbison tune that Linda Ronstadt did wonders with.
Cameron was distracted himself but managed to deal with the task of cleansing Charlottes body: removing the build-up of hormones and antibodies that had been accelerating growth and causing the little girl distress.
Cameron finished before Marcus had concluded his song, his audience transfixed by his performance – even Tim was humming along. Cameron gave Grace and Amanda a nod to indicate ‘all’s good’ while Marcus took in his accolades, but when Charlotte wrapped him in a hug and kissed his cheek exclaiming “he’s magical cause her head didn’t hurt anymore” the tall stick of a man had a lump form in his throat and had a tear track down his face.
Cameron sought a quiet moment in a private space at the hospital to be able to speak with Grace and Marcus about the court case, much hinged over how they felt about testifying and the possibility of losing their anonymity, after a very brief moment with them looking into each others eyes, Marcus spoke up saying “We have talked a lot about this, and knew by stepping forward it could mean giving up our identities, we’re both tired of running and hiding, it’s time to make the bullies and hate-mongers of this world face the music. Let’s give them hell!”
June 29, 2007, Undisclosed Location outside Prince George BC.
It was a beautiful day, as summers in Northern BC are known to be, the fragrance from the mixed pine and spruce forest carried sweetly in the air while the light breeze was warmly refreshing, puffy white clouds rolled peacefully across the sky taking on whimsical shapes limited only by the imagination of the three youths who watched them pass overhead.
Cameron, Charlotte, and Abby lazily lay on a grassy knoll absorbed in the simple pleasure of seeing the procession of fancy march past as they pointed out creatures they found pictured within the rolls and wisps.
Todays chores had all been finished with the lawn cut and garden weeded, groceries unpacked and laundry done, they were young – free – and it was time to play, the place that adults worldwide dream of returning to - rooted as their fondest memories, which must have come from just such a time, and yet for the youth living at such a precious moment: they are in a hurry to grow-up and meet the world.
Laughter sprang from the hearts abundance as the three just enjoyed the company of friends, being silly wasn’t a crime, hope flourished, and dreams, well - dreams are a hard topic for Cameron, he had received several in the last few nights, some filled him with anticipation while others scared him so deeply he would awake sweating.
He had been able to plot out a course for himself: his application to attend Whateley Academy had been accepted – Marcus as an alumni had agreed to vouch for him, Mike had allocated funds to pay for school and he would continue as his guardian; Joan, Kathy, and Dr. Nelson at Arkham had provided input to complete the application.
Cameron was asked to arrive before the other students would be coming to start the semester at Whateley – so his plan was to be there ahead of the September long-weekend. However, he had mixed feelings: is there such a thing as being excitedly scared?
The trial was set to begin in Federal Court July 16 in Ottawa, where the MCO was headquartered, with proceedings expected to last roughly 5 weeks. Leaving a little time to shop for school essentials before having to arrive in New Hampshire.
It had been the most unexpected surprise when Marcus and Grace volunteered to become Rachelle, Tim, and Charlottes guardians, at least temporarily until they figured out what they wanted to do. Best of all, instead of a foster home, Cameron had been able to arrange accommodations for them at the safe house.
Turns out the RCMP had rented the place which was ‘for sale’, Cameron discussed it with Mike and he arranged for it to be bought, they had a recreational vehicle brought in which Cameron moved into letting the three siblings have the original house. Abby was perhaps the happiest of them all, she had a handful of family to tease and torment, she was infectious spreading a closeness that everyone yearned for but only came about because she was a source of innocence and a peacemaker; such is the power of Abby.
Earlier that week, one night all the talented youth sat around a campfire and they began to discuss what each other could do powers wise. Who was the strongest? Fastest? Smartest?
As each began to show off their powers, Abby asked what hers’ was? Charlotte; the dear heart, said Abby was the most powerful in the group as she had boundless love, and there is nothing in heaven or on earth stronger than love.
Charlotte was easily second as she was an energizer / exemplar blend and even though she hadn’t fully manifested yet - she was a force to be reckoned with, and the first showings of her BIT hinted toward a future beauty.
Third would be Tim who was a speedster with mild regeneration.
Fourth in the group was Rachelle simply because she had a very weak exemplar trait although no physical ability to speak of, but as a psychic she could hold her own, and she was devious in creative ways.
Cameron didn’t have a classification; some speculation said manifestor or energizer, rumours mentioned psychic or wizard, and lately devisor was bantered about. The fact was that nobody knew for sure just what Cameron was - and Cameron liked it that way.
Today felt bittersweet to Cameron, tomorrow he would start his trek eastward, so this was his last chance to be home – or what had at least by default become home. To be with friends, cherish these who had become family, in a way it felt like his life was ending with tomorrow looming like a huge question mark.
The packed bags sitting beside the door showed an anticipation for what lay beyond, but his heart dreaded each tick of the clock as it brought goodbyes closer and those were simply going to hurt. At least Grace and Marcus would be joining him for the first leg – since Cameron knew having to say goodbye to those two would shatter him.
Joyce had put much work into the preparations for dinner; and it turned into a sumptuous feast and a full blown celebration. Mike and Karen had been flying often between PG and Ottawa but managed to be present, along with Marcus and Grace, and three of the RCMP guards who had become close. Dr. Joan and even Auntie Annie had been able to come for one of her rare visits - since she had been adopted by all the young ones: who had each received either socks, toques, or scarfs from the fast and furious knitting needles.
Hugs were abundant as people started to leave, over the meal it had been resolved that there was to be no goodbye’s - only ‘See You Soon’s’. Cameron was emotionally torn as each friend parted, sleep was elusive when nightfall came.
June 30, 2007, Highway 16 East of Prince George
Grace, Marcus and Cameron had planned to make an early start of leaving town, the three arranged for a short holiday together in Jasper National Park before Cameron continued to travel on to Ottawa, they had piled into Marcus’s pick-up to drive the four hours to Jasper, an RCMP guard was assigned to follow discretely and keep tabs on them until an officer from central dispatch would join up and take-over in Jasper.
The send-off from the safe house had indeed been tough, Abby had decided to put Cameron into a bear hug until the very last minute, the situation would have broken a far stronger man; so Cameron didn’t mind the tears as he parted company with these his good friends, his new family.
Marcus started the travelers into singing as the distance separating them from what had been safe haven widened, it might have just been another singing lesson for Cameron; but it was joyful, and brought the three closer together.
At a point in the road, Grace gently put her hand onto Marcus’s arm and he slowed the vehicle to a stop, Grace turned to Cameron in the back seat who asked “What’s up?”
Grace spoke softly saying “Cameron, we aren’t sure if your ready for this, but this is where the accident that killed your family happened.”
Cameron sighed deeply, shoulders sagging, he knew they would be following the same route his family had taken that dreadful day, but the separation between knowing and doing is vast. “Mind if I take some time and collect my thoughts.”
Marcus replied “All the time you need.”
Cameron walked the lonely roadside, finding small pieces from the vehicle his family had died in, he opened a little pit and laid the remnants in it, a stream was nearby which Cameron wandered over to and sat on a rock watching the water cascade down the channel, it was peaceful and serene, the water passed by gurgling and splashing: hidden within the waters passage he thought he heard his brother’s cheerful taunts, the sweet voice of his mother giving encouragement, as well as talking of beautiful things in her art books, then the comforting words of his father after a thunderstorm had past. Cameron thought he’d run out of tears with parting from the PG safe house, he was wrong.
Cameron was roused from his meditation by a politely asked “Excuse me” a young woman had approached Cameron atop his perch at waters edge, she was carrying a large camera “Did you know the family that was killed in the accident?”
“ah, Hi, I hadn’t expected you so soon, I’m Cameron Burke, it was my family that died” sniffed Cameron gathering his emotions “you’re wanting to interview me?” spoke Cameron as he gestured to Grace and Marcus that he was okay.
“Yes, how did you know?” puzzled the woman, she looked so young she must just be fresh out of school.
“That is a much longer story than we have time for today, but you want to know about the accident” stated Cameron.
“I was told to get some stock footage by my boss – something about building up public sympathy for the MCO, but I think I’ll get a better story from you” informed the woman, setting down the camera readying a microphone.
“Get footage of the area as well to keep your boss happy, do you want to ask questions or just have me talk? And sorry - your name?”
“Cindi, Cindi Nuefeld, just you talking will work fine” said Cindi motioning for permission to hook the tiny clip mic to Cameron’s shirt.
Cameron’s affirmative nod, a quick sound check and positioning to catch the best light, then Cameron began to recount the events leading up to the accident, he left out the names of his rescuers but detailed the carnage, gave an overview of his injuries and coma, waking up after almost 8 years, discovering his life had been shattered – he left out the sex change as it was too personal for public consumption, then spoke about the MCO inquisition and assassination attempts.
Wrapping up Cameron handed Cindi a DVD, explaining that he had pieced together some interesting video clips and photos. He then asked a favour – she wasn’t to show this to her current boss as he was a Humanity First stooge, instead take it to a station in Vancouver, and don’t let it air until the trial in Ottawa was underway.
As Cameron climbed back into Marcus’ truck, the pair watched him like vultures until he had gotten buckled in and comfy; “You remember my saying how sometimes I have dreams that come true, this was one of those times.”
Cameron had played twenty questions before and knew what it was like to be in the hotseat – this felt more like the Spanish Inquisition (naturally: he hadn’t been expecting that). Cameron now needed to describe for Marcus and Grace the “other” times he had experienced a dream being fulfilled, another ‘time’ had been when the sniper had shot at him: he had practised hard to absorb kinetic energy and was greatly relieved when it worked.
The shared look between Grace and Marcus and the follow up question “Was that around the time you had Abby throwing stuff at you?”
“Yup, needed to figure out how to draw off the energy… something wrong?”
“Oh no, not really, it’s just that Joan asked us to watch out for other signs of self abuse” supplied Grace “You couldn’t have told us about this back then?”
“I tried but nobody understood, and I really didn’t want to be under the microscope any longer. Besides; do want everyone to know everything about you?”
The rest of the drive was spent in conversation and some more singing.
They entered Jasper National Park in the afternoon, the gate attendant handing them maps and a brochure explaining ‘You’re in Bear Country’ it detailed what to do if you encountered a bear in it’s natural habitat – the three discussed the information until it was firmly ingrained in Cameron’s memory.
July 01, 2007. Jasper National Park
Cameron stepped out of the rustic log cabin that was his private hotel room for the Canada Day long weekend, Marcus and Grace had the one next door as each cabin only had a single bedroom, the setting was quaint and quiet as it was nestled along the pristine Athabasca River, the view was majestic with the high mountain peaks surrounding them without a cloud in sight. When they had arrived yesterday afternoon; they did some nearby hiking - then walked through the town. Marcus found a pub that had Karaoke so they had dinner there; and it was an absolute blast singing, the waitress was dismissive when Cameron showed his ID saying he was 21 since he could hardly pass for 13, but since he didn’t have any alcohol to drink the issue wasn’t pressed, but it did become a joke when other patrons’ started buying the table drinks due to Marcus’ masterful voice.
Today’s plan was to be a boat tour of Maligne Lake and more hiking, which meant the group needed to leave early to make the most of the day. While Cameron might not have been able to see the spectacle unfold around him as normal people might, he was wonder struck by the natural beauty surrounding him, he took in every detail and pointed out the amazing wildlife that was hidden to folks without benefit of magnified thermographic sight. Marcus filled memory card after memory card snapping photos, his favourite topic being Grace: Grace in front of this mountain, beside that tree, by this creek: of course being that she was extremely photogenic likely played into his subject matter, this was a man deeply in love.
The boat trip was breathtaking due to the captivating scenery, the lake was as calm as a mirror, and the time passed leisurely as they enjoyed the sights, sounds and feel of the serene setting. After the tour the three headed out onto a trail for a hike that followed the lakeshore then split gaining elevation as the path rose up onto a ridge, they had been walking for about an hour when Cameron spotted ahead of them in the trees a Grizzly bear with two cubs, it hadn’t caught their scent just yet but would soon – The Parks brochure had provided the two best methods to handle bear encounters: such as scaring off a bear by being intimidating or to play dead and minimize risk. However, the most dangerous bear is a Momma with a cub; and she just caught a whiff of the trio, she let out a sound similar to a dogs bark that alerted the cubs who took to a tree and started climbing, Momma bear tore at the ground with her claws snorting her displeasure, then she made her challenging run – coming at them crashing through the undergrowth, she veered to the groups left narrowly passing by them before turning to face them again letting fly an angry roar, Marcus carefully touched the others and softly spoke “Back up slowly, keep your eyes looking down, make yourself look small” the three stayed close to each other as they withdrew, and Momma made a couple threatening approaches to let them know they had not retreated far enough.
Cameron’s heartbeat pounded at his temples, the adrenaline rush from being scared had put his pulse into overdrive, so when he watched Momma collect her little ones and move off away from them - he finally relaxed enough to take a breath and tried to stop the shakes that had taken over his limbs. The three turned around and returned the way they had come, cautioning any other hikers they met of what had been encountered ahead. Arriving back at the trail head, they informed the Park Warden about their introduction to Momma and her two little ones so he posted a ‘Bear in Area’ warning onto that trail, and flagged it to keep people away.
They needed to return to Jasper townsite for dinner to meet up with an old friend of Marcus’, his roommate from Whateley named Percy: short for Percival (the teasing he must have gotten!), but used Buck – just Buck. Buck was waiting for them when they returned to town, he stepped out of the cab of his semi and Cameron froze: the man was over seven feet tall and weighed 500 pounds – none of it fat, Grace ran to greet him colliding into his open arms with him picking her up and giving her a hug that would have crushed rock, Cameron was awed by the big man but didn’t shy away or panic - only acting like he was a friend that he hadn’t met yet. When shaking his hand after formally being introduced, Buck thanked Cameron for not being scared. Turns out that Buck is an empath and the fear his size induces in people causes him much anxiety. Marcus’ said he knew a great place for dinner, and it wasn’t a surprise when they arrived at the Karaoke pub.
Dinner conversation was a raucous event as the two roomies reminisced about the time spent together at Whateley, the two roommates exchanged tales; regaling the table with stories of adventure. Marcus eventually explained that Buck had developed a serious crush on a girl, but was too scared to talk to her so he’d taught Buck to sing: thereby gaining his voice, Cameron asked how chasing the girl went?
“I married her, Valerie and I have 3 kids” added the gentle giant with a smile that stretched across his face while presenting the photos in his wallet.
The pictured woman was petite and very pretty, looking to have Hawaiian heritage “is she related to Superman or something?” quizzed Cameron uncertain as to why so awesome a fellow would be scared by such a wisp of a girl.
“Gadgeteer. There’s many reasons a person feels fear” remarked the huge man.
Buck began a discussion about how people react to situations and from being an empath he had special insight! His philosophy was that fear was one of the central motivators in men: fear of failure, rejection, not measuring up. Fear is a good thing, it stops you from doing stupid things like jumping off a cliff, but it needs to be controlled too - otherwise you stop living and would never have climbed the mountain to see the view from atop the cliff in the first place. Marcus had been a true friend by helping build up his confidence so that he had the courage to speak to Valerie. Overcoming your fear being proof of strong character – being the biggest, strongest, fastest, smartest, or richest does not make you a good person, someone always seems to come along who raises the bar on you, a true measure of a person is if they decide to use what they have and do the best they can, not shying away from what might be difficult.
Buck took the conversation into what makes a man, how many think of a man as someone who is strong, tough, and immovable: like a tree. But since many trees break in the wind because of being inflexible; having branches snap off - or even the trunk breaking in half, better for a man to be resilient and bend with the wind, because a wind will always come up in life. Cameron asked what it means for a man to be flexible. Buck elaborated that the best way would be to straight off realize that there are two things a man should never be able to defend against: His Momma’s tears and his sweethearts smile.
Grace dabbed the corner of her eye “When did you become so sweet?”
Buck lowered his head to keep others from hearing “The benefit of being big is that with a rough exterior you can be soft inside. “
Grace held his arm tight saying resting her head against it “I’d just say you’re a romantic!”
“There’s a reason why my Valerie loves me.” confided Buck with a contented smile.
When the Karaoke festivities began the tables focus shifted to having fun, the DJ asked that in honour of Canada Day – all songs should be Canadian, so the group of four began to make a list of songs to sing, Grace didn’t want to go solo so when Cameron asked if she would do a duet with him she jumped on board and the two began scheming.
The evening started with a number of brave souls itching to get a party started, first up was an oriental man seated with a large group on a tour, for an introduction he said he ‘lived for Karaoke’; once on stage his business man demeanour changed into that of a purebred rocker and as the first bars of Bryan Adams ‘Summer of 69’ blasted out the speakers he took the audience by storm.
Next in the docket was a thin man with wild hair who played air guitar matching the rhythm of Doucette’s ‘Mama Let Him Play’, it was fun to watch as the dancers began to claim space on the dance floor, the audience was getting involved adding claps matching the beat, earnest applause was given for encouragement.
Buck rose from the table saying ‘fortune favours the bold’ and stepped onto the stage: his choice was a country tune called ‘Navajo Rug’ by Ian Tyson, he did an astoundingly good version bringing couples clad in cowboy boots and jeans down onto the dance floor who two stepped along to the melody, the audience took to hooting / sounding like owls, Buck didn’t know what to make of it but decided it was alright and bowed when finished.
The mix of songs that got sung was a cross section of country and rock – it seems the audience was not too biased, but line dancers had become a force to be reckoned with on the floor in front of the stage. Marcus and Grace joined the couples on the dance floor when something they liked played, it was heartwarming to see them both so happy in each others arms, it was obvious that Buck was missing his family but kept a smile on his face nonetheless.
The standard was pretty high in the Karaoke pub: Cameron didn’t know if he could hold up to it, but the encouragement from his teammates and Marcus’ reassurance sent Grace and he up to literally face the music. The song Cameron had suggested for them to sing as a duet was not a chart topper but required a singer to show talent - it also had a special place in Cameron’s heart: it was one of his Dad’s favourites, so when he said into the mic before the music started “For Dad” it steeled him as the DJ hit play.
‘In Your Soul’ a Cory Hart release echoed through the room as Cameron gave way to the buried emotions in his heart and laced them into each word, Grace had an amazing voice plus she moved about the stage interacting with the crowd to make it feel personal, when their voices harmonized it sent a chill down his spine.
He didn’t notice the crowd, instead being intently focused upon delivery of the song and only saw Grace, he tried to mimic her movements upon the stage. As the song ended Grace rushed over to give Cameron a hug, whispering “hon, give a girl a warning next time” together they turned to look over the room, it was confusing, no one was moving, all just stood transfixed staring at the stage.
Cameron shook thinking he had stunk the place out, a few camera flashes and a couple hesitant claps broke him from the onset of panic, the room erupted into sustained applause. Looking again around the room Cameron noticed that just about every woman in the audience was wiping tears away, as they stepped down from the stage folks grabbed for their hands to shake in congratulation; even asking for their names.
The return to the table was fraught with unknown women giving him hugs – a gaggle of oriental tourists gathered to collect photos with him in clusters, by the time he reached the table a root beer float the size of Lake Superior awaited him: his thanks to the waitress resulted in her mauling him in a hug saying “That was beautiful”.
Marcus beamed with pride saying “Can I cook or what?” Grace gave him a swat remarking “You can’t teach that” then leaned over and added to Cameron’s collection of hugs. Buck absolutely beamed as he grasped Cameron’s hand shaking it vigorously until he just resorted to pulling him in and squeezed the breath out of the boy, Cameron spied the pile of tissues in-front of the giant – knowing he had been discovered a big hand rested upon Cameron’s shoulder “allergies” was his excuse.
The DJ took a ten-minute break, which allowed the room to calm enough to proceed, the staff had to really hustle as every square inch was occupied since the place was packed. The DJ announced he was ready to begin, when no one made a move to be next; Marcus stood and took to the stage, he had noted the audiences tastes and decided upon an old classic: Gordon Lightfoot’s ‘Early Morning Rain’, he simply did a marvelous job of it, it was so nice to hear many in the room singing along. Hooting seemed to be the expression of choice and it certainly caught on! All the slow dancers thanked him by giving a warm reception as he crossed the floor back to the table.
More participants gave their all, and it turned into a most memorable night, Marcus connived to have all his students sing together: so Cameron, Buck, and Marcus sang together ‘Sweet City Woman’ a Stampeders song, it met with the dancers’ approval as the dance floor was crowded and the whole area moved in unison as the line formed into a rhythm sweeping around encompassing the entire dance floor, Marcus couldn’t contain his pride as he embraced each of his pupils when the song ended, the applause was cut by hoots and an ear-splitting whistle from none other than Grace while she pistoned the air.
Seated back at the table the waitress brought them drinks: saying it was sent by an appreciative fan. Cameron of course only had a pop set down in-front of him, he turned serious for a second when he noticed there was no fizz and took a closer look at the gift drink, Grace queued upon his hesitation “What’s wrong” she asked, looking at his table mates Cameron noted that each of the beverages had been doctored.
Buck was about to down his drink when Cameron held up his glass and said “I would like to say something ...To new friends and old friends, may joy guide your path, thank you” Cameron had needed a distraction in-order to remove the drug from the drinks, and a toast seemed appropriate to the occasion.
Cameron placed the white powder he had collected into a small plastic bag then printed off a brief note of explanation and passed it to Grace, she looked at the glass in front of her with concern to which Cameron nodded and took a drink of his own to show it was safe now, Marcus had just taken a sip from his drink when the note was passed to him – you could tell he was trying to decide if he should swallow or not, a look at Cameron proved it was okay but he lowered his drink cautiously looking into the liquid, Buck had already gulped half his drink down when the note arrived to him, he looked carefully at each of his seated friends to gauge if it was some kind of joke; Cameron moved the plastic bag towards him to show the perturbing white chemicals within.
Cameron fashioned an envelope, inserting within the chemicals along with a note detailing what was happened to alert his guard: a young Mountie named Ken, Marcus flagged down the waitress and asked her to deliver the letter to the young man seated on the fringe of the crowd sitting by himself. When the RCMP officer received Cameron’s note he casually left his table and circled the room, when he returned he shook his head in the negative.
Grace asked the question “What next?”
Buck leaned down and quietly said “Need to draw them out, have them make their move. Finish up your drinks and start acting drunk – then we move away from the crowd”
The grown ups nodded in agreement while Cameron held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders in the classic “I don’t know” gesture.
Grace leaned over to say “look tired and get dizzy”
The four put on a show for a couple minutes, seeing Grace get silly was worth the price of admission, but then they as a group made moves to leave together and headed sloppily to the exit, the RCMP officer came close and Marcus directed him to call for back-up as they were certain whoever was setting them up would show themselves outside.
Jaspers main street had people walking towards other Canada Day events which included a fireworks display. Everyone in the group walked out of the pub making a display of being impaired, Marcus and Grace used each other for support, Buck was shaky and bounced off walls, Cameron hadn’t any experience in this game but took on a silly walk and tried to steer Buck down the street, they spoke loudly to make their plan known – getting Buck back to his truck. They hadn’t gone far when a lone figure wearing a gi blocked their path.
Buck stepped forward to protect his companions saying “You want a piece of me?”, the man wagged his finger to indicate not Buck instead pointing at Cameron.
“Again” complained the boy.
Buck sized the man up “If you leave now you won’t get hurt”.
For a reply the gi clad man dropped into a ready posture. Cameron noticed the man carried a pouch tucked into his belt which contained the same powder that had been found in their drinks, (fairs fair) thought the boy as he took some of the drug out of the pouch and put it directly into the man’s bloodstream.
Buck rotated his neck with the cracking sound echoing around them, when he stomped his left foot down the concrete cracked, his low grumble sounded like “have at thee.”
The man jumped forward closing the space separating them, leaping up he swung his foot in an arc planned to strike Bucks face, Buck raised his hand: faster than someone that big should be able to move, caught the swung foot and held it. The martial artist spun to break free of Bucks grasp to which Buck threw his purchase away resulting in the man flying 10 feet back rotating in the air to land in a crouch facing his opponent. He attacked again delivering a series of kicks intending to overwhelm Buck; the blows flew at him in rapid succession as the man spun to put greater force into each strike, Buck blocked each parry holding his ground. The man wasn’t able to make a solid connection onto Buck considering his having an immense advantage in reach as the man only stood at 5 foot 7 to Bucks 7’1”, Buck hadn’t made any offensive moves so far, but when the man moved in to deliver a fist into his midsection – Buck’s downward strike with an elbow connected with the man’s left arm making him immediately retract his now injured appendage, the situation requiring the man to retreat favouring his arm but as he moved away he reached into a fold in his clothes and a throwing disc flew out at Buck. Buck reacted by putting his left arm in-front of the shuriken which imbedded into his watch. Buck dislodged the metal disc and tossed it aside as he held his ground to prevent access to his friends.
Cameron had been held back protectively by Marcus and Grace, when he asked if they should help? Marcus scoffed that Buck won’t forgive them if they interrupted a good scuffle.
The man began to move sluggishly his balance starting to be impacted from the dose Cameron had given him, the man again attacked Buck once more leading his volley with kicks to try and find an opening, in the flurry two blows hit but most got either blocked or evaded, Buck quickly grabbed onto an arm when the martial artist had moved in close, moving his free hand up near to Buck’s face he sprayed something: Buck coughed and was visibly effected, a second dose was put directly into his face and the big guy waivered as the knock-out gas was hitting his senses and he struggled to keep on his feet.
Cameron looked at the situation and saw that Buck was about to topple, when the man began to step around the giant to make an onslaught at Cameron: Cameron scattered the impulses to the man’s legs resulting in them becoming like jello so that the gi clad man sprawled onto the ground, he lay directly under Bucks falling bodies path – fear was in the man’s eyes as he saw the large frame coming down onto him, the man’s body acted as a cushion taking all the force of Bucks fall, the sound of crunching was accompanied by groans that escaped from the man who was down for the count, that and the drug dulling his awareness.
Cameron’s RCMP detail had called in for back-up, he had been a couple steps away watching – waiting for the squad car to arrive, it undoubtedly looked humourus to the officers stepping into the scene: finding a very large man laying on the ground tended to by a tall slim man and a teenager, while another man wearing something akin to pajamas obviously in pain was being looked after by a blonde woman, certainly not the deadly force attack they had been called out to.
Cameron’s RCMP guard explained the situation as the ambulance arrived, the martial arts attacker was arrested and escorted to the hospital, Buck was roused sufficiently to get him to his bed since there was no way of carrying him without a forklift, he passed out in his trucks sleeper cab before a goodbye could be said, Cameron repaired the watch that had been damaged in the fight and Grace made certain Buck was covered by a blanket and gave him a goodnight kiss on the cheek, the trio left him to sleep. Quick statements to the RCMP and the three headed back to their cabins after catching the finally of the fireworks display.
July 02, 2007, Jasper National Park
Today was something Cameron had really been anticipating: White Water Rafting on the Athabasca River, they joined up with the tour they’d booked and loaded onto a bus to be taken upstream, Cameron blushed when some of the passengers on the bus recognized them from last nights singing. It was amazing how all aboard the bus easily took up singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat under Marcus’ direction, before anyone realized it the bus was stopping at the drop off point and everyone geared up in preparation to launch. The River to the best Cameron
could visualize was a milky green colour derived from glacial silts as the rafters explained it, it ran cold and fast.
The crews divided up the passengers between the inflatable rafts, with Marcus, Grace and Cameron remaining together, four rafts launched and quickly the current started to carry them downstream with only some paddling to adjust course which aligned the raft with the best route through rapids. Being splashed with the fresh water took your breath away so the raft captain instructed that it helped to shout when entering rough water as it actually forced you to breath normally, so here they were: shouting, hollering, and enjoying themselves thoroughly. When the rafters showed them to hoot like owls if they ended up in the water; in order to keep a person from seizing up from shock - the three singers laughed hard at the enlightenment of having gotten hooted off the stage.
The trip down-river stopped for a lunch break and the food was attacked as if a pack of wolves had chanced upon a kill. Returning to the boats the adventure continued and everyone settled into a pattern of paddling or rubbernecking at the vista as it was slowly unveiled with each turn in the river. As they made their way through one big set of rapids the boat folded in the middle and when it sprang back into shape it catapulted Cameron out and into the water – getting splashed was a shock: however, being submerged into the ice cold water was numbing beyond words as it took his breath away, Cameron made a pitiful attempt to hoot between his laughter while positioning himself in the water with his feet pointing into the current as instructed by the rafters, it took only a few minutes for the raft to get close and he was dragged back aboard, between the sun and putting some heat into his clothes he was dry in no time.
The tour ended mid-afternoon with everyone transported back to the trips starting point. The day was beautiful with only a few clouds moving about, so the three decided that there was enough time to ride the Skytram and hike before the day escaped them.
The tram ride was disconcerting for Cameron, his sight giving him disturbing details like their height above the ground, the thickness of the cable supporting them, the amount of sway in the gondola, he clutched the railing tight with knuckles white from his nervousness. The tram jostled when passing a tower which was enough to make him gulp, so when it arrived at the upper dock he quickly exited as soon as it stopped atop the mountain, it felt so good to have solid ground beneath him. Signs at the platform cautioned about storms and to stay on the trails, the three set off to ascent the mountains peak which would take a couple hours of hiking.
The climb up to the peak was slow with Cameron’s’ legs and lungs burning, but the view on-top was worth the exertion, if didn’t matter that Cameron had been panting to catch his breath: he would have lost it anyway as the world unfolded before them. Mountain ranges and valleys stretched from horizon to horizon, the shadows from clouds tracked across the trees below creating an enticing effect of light and shadow. Looking down at the town it appeared so tiny - the cars looked to be smaller than ants and people just specks.
Grace directed attention to the storm forming to the West and moving rapidly towards them, the LPC’s (little puffy clouds) that had been the days’ company had begun to boil and build into a thunderhead as the clouds took on ominous forms and the bottoms blackened.
The trio quickly packed up and started the descent, the burning legs from the climb became rubber as if the joints wanted to work backwards, Cameron was slowing the others down but they didn’t push him to go faster. Rumbles of thunder vibrated the air and flashes of lightning lit the sky over their shoulders, each flash and following boom made Cameron jump.
They had neared the platform: its outline becoming larger the closer they approached, however, ahead of them on the trail sat an older couple resting on some rocks, Grace ran up to them and discovered the two seniors in their late sixties had been on the mountain having a picnic: when they heard the approaching storm they began packing up, which is when the lady sprained her ankle on the uneven rocks, she wasn’t able to put weight on her leg and their efforts at hobbling together had not been successful.
Just moments after Grace had wrapped the ladies leg in tension bandages the rain started, it was really heavy rain; the kind with huge drops that you felt when each one hit and they left large splats on the rocks, the temperature dropped alarmingly fast accompanied by hail as large as marbles that began to fall mixed in with the rain.
Marcus directed everyone to huddle together and take shelter under the couples’ picnic blanket. The storm enveloped them fully, the heavy rain and hail roared as it fell, at this elevation they where right inside the cloud, the electrified air sizzled about them making their hair stand on end and the nearby thunder booms rattled teeth and reverberated through bone.
Each blinding flash of lightning was followed instantaneously by an earth shaking boom, a lighting bolt charged the air and hissed loudly as it looked to be going away from them but abruptly changed course and flew directly towards them – striking Grace, her clothes burnt where the bolt hit and she yelled in pain, Cameron had been holding onto Grace when the lightning bolt hit and it channeled into him, he yelped in surprise from having such an immense electrical discharge come into him and get absorbed by his battery.
Cameron had seen the lightning change course, Grace had unfortunately been between him and it, realizing that he might be attracting that energy meant he’d be endangering these people if he stayed close to them – it would fry them if they got in the way. Cameron broke free of the hold his friends had on him and left the meager protection they had.
Grace cried out “Cameron, Come back! your scared of thunderstorms”
“That’s why I have to go” called back Cameron as he ran to get some distance from the group.
The lightning was drawn to Cameron as if he were a grounding rod, so he hadn’t gotten far before getting hit again with a sustained electrical arc discharging from the sky into him, he stood arms wide as if begging the storm to do its worst, he faced the abundant energy surrounding him and left himself wide open to the elements.
Cameron established a collection area that gathered energy out of the howling wind; resulting in the cloud forming a rotation around him as if the plug had been pulled out of a bathtub as it swirled while being drawn into him, he siphoned off much of the cloudbursts energy; between the violent winds and the lightning it added a nice charge to his battery.
Over the course of the storm he had been struck by at least a dozen lightning bolts that had flashed brilliantly for prolonged periods illuminating the cloud bank around the boy with intense light casting an eerie silhouette to anyone watching. The surprise storm lasted a half hour before the cloud began to dissipate as the energy driving it was getting depleted. It was amusing to Cameron who discovered that the immense discharge each lightning bolt carried actually tickled his skin.
Cameron was completely drenched from the rain and began to shiver uncontrollably, he directed his body to warm up which was a negligible draw from off his battery compared to the influx of energy he just took in from the storm.
The storm moved on as quickly as it had arrived, the ground was saturated and slick, with caution Cameron climbed over the jumble of uneven rocks to rejoin his group as the others began to emerge from under the blanket, it had at least provided some protection but was now dripping wet and heavy.
Cameron noticed that each of them was trembling; having lowered temperatures along with being wet - it sped their heat loss, Grace had shivers and had begun applying hot to her hands and placing them into her armpits to help warm-up. Cameron placed a hand on her shoulder charging up her spark while taking the rain out of her clothes, he had the others sit around a sizeable rock which he touched exciting the molecules so it glowed red emitting heat.
Cameron’s gentle touch upon each of the huddled people dried that person and helping them get warm.
The group began moving forward to the Skytram platform, Marcus stooped so as to take some of the lady’s weight and her husband supporting her other side, Cameron took Marcus’ pack and carried some of the couples’ belongings with Grace taking up the rest. Progress to the platform was slow and when within sight employees hurried out with a stretcher.
They entered the Skytram building to find it filled with people waiting for the next ride, the tram had been stopped to wait out the storm, Cameron shuddered at the thought of being caught mid-air in that tram car while being shaken and buffeted violently by a storm.
The Skytram’s mountain top building made for a good shelter, Grace found a vending machine and got the couple coffees, handing one to Marcus as well, the cup given to Cameron was hot chocolate which was sweet, smooth, and welcome.
It had taken a few trams to clear out the backlog of passengers, the older couple had been on the first car down, but the three remained on the mountainside glad for a moment to sit. When their turn came the ride down was less stressful as Cameron knew what to expect; but didn’t enjoy the feeling of being suspended in the air.
Conversation turned to dinner and when Marcus mentioned the same pub again, he threw his best puppy dog eyes at them; which was pitiful but he got his way regardless.
They arrived at the pub after getting cleaned up, and the manager was thrilled to see them again; seating them down front and center. Cameron had built up a gnawing hunger and ordered two entree’s devouring both, Grace matched his appetite, Marcus sighed at his solitary steak.
A professional band called the Hometown Boys had been booked to perform in Jasper, they could do amazingly good covers of popular new and old time songs – mostly Country and Western which wasn’t up Cameron’s alley but he didn’t complain. The gathered audience was very appreciative giving applause and hooting after each song was performed, the dance floor crowded as couples enjoyed the music, Marcus and Grace joined those taking to the floor to cut a rug when favourites were played.
The Hometown Boys had been singing for about an hour when one member took the mic and asked the audience if they would like to hear a guest singer? Being put in the spotlight Marcus was convinced to come up onto the stage and after a brief minute of talking to the band, he seated himself. The band started the rift for ‘Lyin’ Eyes’, and Marcus gave his all into the delivery of the Eagles hit, he was delightful; letting his voice work the music to reach into peoples’ hearts and caressed them, the enraptured throng continued swaying after the music stopped with applause starting slowly but built to a crescendo with hoots and hollers added in.
Marcus joined Grace and Cameron back at the table, a tray of beers getting delivered once seated “I love this place” was his comment while raising his glass to show appreciation, eliciting his companions’ eyes to roll feigning disbelieve.
Between gulps Marcus told Cameron the “Boys” wondered if he would like to sing tonight as well? Cameron mused for a time before says ‘yes’, then between songs spoke with the band.
Cameron was introduced and walked onstage, the band tuned up and waited for Cameron to move up to the mic. Cameron had fond memories of his father singing even if it wasn’t in tune or note worthy, his father sang from joy of heart and Cameron proceeded to sing the one his dad had sung in the shower the day he’d died. There was a quiver in Cameron voice as he’d remembered his family but his delivery wasn’t sad – instead it reflected joy stemming from good memories of his past life.
Gowan’s: ‘When There’s Time for Love’ had come off the artists’ acoustic album, Cameron’s’ voice had a haunting effect as it reflected his emotions that touched each word, they echoing around the room as the Hometown Boys playing in near imitation to the recording. Ending the song Cameron bowed his head, and when he raised it the audience had shown restraint waiting for his acknowledgement, the room stood as one and applause tore through them, whistles and hoots as accompaniment, Cameron hooted in response which brought out laughter. The “Boys” thanked Cameron and said they would need to include that song into their usual play-list.
Marcus and Grace both hugged the red-faced boy, who had received adulation on his way back to the table – even a couple phone numbers, Grace quickly relieved him of those tucking them into her purse. Another root beer was delivered along with slices of apple pie and cheddar cheese for each of them, Cameron rose and bowed to show his thanks before devouring the dessert.
The days’ excitement had worn the trio out, so they called it an early night, leaving the pub was running a gauntlet of handshakes and congratulations, Cameron’s RCMP guard fell instep as they left the establishment and he commented about the terrific job Cameron had done with that song.
July 03, 2007, Jasper National Park
The sky showed no hint of yesterdays violent weather, it was clear and bright without a cloud to be seen, piling into Marcus’ truck they headed off to the Columbia Icefields; they had decided to hike up and explore the glacier rather than join a coach tour.
The hike to the Glaciers toe was easy as it following the carved valley left by the receding ice, strapping on ice cleats giving them additional traction allowing them to walk on the ice, they followed the paths - not venturing far from the established routes. Cameron’s sight captured the underlying layers giving him a grander view and appreciation of how vast this icefield was, they walked upon the glacier scampering over the streams and through patches of snow.
They stopped to enjoy a simple lunch sitting on an outcropping of rocks, Marcus and Grace applied another layer of sunscreen as the reflected light could create burns in unusual places like under the chin and inside your nose, Cameron was not concerned as he just soaked up the suns rays and felt better for it. The hike was not strenuous and the threesome covered much ground, Cameron being able to provide warning of weak ice and hidden crevices’, around two in the afternoon they started to make their way back, descending toward the location the tour buses frequented.
Coming down into the valley they could watch the special buses outfitted with huge tires; people disembarking and wandering about, then loading up to return to the visitor centre. The bus area had been checked to ensure a safe experience and the tourists told not to venture too far. Marcus, Grace and Cameron needed to walk past the high traffic area to return to their parked truck, but noticed a young man who had broken off from his tour and had begun running over the ice, it was sickening to hear his cry and watch him disappear into the ice as it gave way beneath him. Cameron turned to his friends: Graces hand was outstretched pointing to the last spot the boy was seen, Cameron took the cue and lead them double time detouring around danger spots.
The boy had crossed an ice-bridge; water had eroded underneath forming a crevasse but left a thin ice layer above which must have looked solid but had collapsed when the boy stepped on it. Cameron surveyed the situation, a boy around 14 or 15 was wedged in a narrow gap 25 feet down, he was panicking and getting himself imbedded tighter, the worst of it was he was against an ice shelf: a crack in the ice was ready to release, it would send several tons of ice onto the boy. The bus driver had joined Marcus and Grace, informing them that he had called for rescue help who would be twenty minutes out, the ice underneath them gave a loud crack and shifted, Cameron explained to them what he knew. The collapse of the ice bridge triggered the ice shelf into dropping, the boy was in its path – if it let go he would be cut in half when it sheared. Grace began to prepare to climb down when Cameron said she wouldn’t fit, if someone was to go down they would have to be small, Grace shook her head when the realization of what that meant sunk in, Cameron was the smallest and would still be that when the rescue team arrived: the boys best chance was Cameron.
Cameron anchored four metal poles into the ice, with each pole forming part of an apex onto which he had fashioned a pulley, a climbing rope had been fed into the pulley which was centered over the hole, Cameron made a harness which was hitched around his waist so that he could be lowered down by it. Grace and the driver held the rope as Marcus directed them. Cameron descended into the crevasse face first resulting in his blood rushing to his head, he was down a few feet below surface when another crack sounded – to Cameron it was deafening and his sight showed the ice shelf had shifted again, with an arm he motioned that he be held and proceeded to try and bond the slabs of ice to keep them from moving which meant thawing a horizontal shaft then quick freezing the ice / water to try and pin it in place. Moving downward again - he snaked past a curve in the crevasse wall and could now directly see the boy, Cameron’s breath made clouds in the cold air around his face, his hands and feet started to feel the colds bite as well. Cameron tried talking to the boy but he was unable to respond as hypothermia had set into him and he was shivering uncontrollably as his body tried to generate heat, he was only wearing a shirt and jeans so his clothing was giving him little protection.
Cameron was lowered to be able with outstretched fingers touch the boys left arm which was wedged above him, Cameron put energy into him to raise his temperature and the shivering relented somewhat but his lips still trembled and he looked blue. Another foot downward and Cameron could grasp the boy, he was stuck fast as some of the collapsed ice-bridge had bound him in tightly into the narrow gap. Cameron disappeared the ice that held the boy fast so he was able to finally take a deep breath being freed from his restrictive confinement on his chest, the boy wrapped his arms around himself to try and warm up, Cameron slid the loop of rope around the boy and was about to call to bring them up. Unfortunately that’s when the ice shelf groaned and broke off.
Marcus watched the ice shelf as it trembled at first then snapped and groaned as it broke away releasing its tentative attachment to the crevasse wall, his shout of warning muted against the rumble the falling ice made as it crashed down, Grace and the bus driver had been keeping the rope taunt using their bodies as leverage – when the ice fell it severed the rope and they tumbled as the weight was no longer on the rope. When Grace looked down into the crevasse it was blocked from the dropped ice shelf, the drivers slumped shoulders told the story as he sized up the situation.
Cameron had nothing more than a heartbeat before the ice overwhelm him, his impulse to raise his arms for protection and keep the ice away had an unexpected result: a burst of energy had been released. The ice coming at them was pulverized into a fine powder akin to snow, instead of being crushed they were engulfed within an avalanche. Cameron’s shock had to wait, the pressure against his chest didn’t allow him to breath, he’d been slammed hard against the back wall: that pain was throbbing while the cold dulled everything else, his body just wanted to sleep; a trick hypothermia plays on your mind. Fighting against his senses and the weight binding him in place, Cameron disappeared a pocket around himself - and thought to fill it with air from the ‘Warehouse’, the ice encapsulating him was too dense to let air pass through.
Frantically Cameron checked on the boy he’d come to rescue, his arm and shoulder was visible within the prepared space, increasing the pockets size to free the boy Cameron noted he was able to breathe but had dropped into unconsciousness and the blue hue had deepened. Cameron was still upside down inside the pocket, looking past his legs he could see the large ice sheets above him and people topside who had rushed to the crevasses edge - with them looking down into the now blocked opening and the sheared rope they had retrieved.
The situation had changed dramatically, the crevasse above was too unstable, it would keep breaking off if he made an opening, and he certainly couldn’t lift this kid to carry him. His Dad had taught him to look at every angle when faced with a problem; it’s how you evaluate options. Cameron weighted the possibilities: up simply wouldn’t work - but maybe straight ahead might. He first formed a solid ice floor to stand on, rotated himself to be standing upright and felt woozy from having been inverted for so long, as his head cleared he checked on his rescuee, he warmed him slightly; afraid that too much might cook him.
Cameron began tunneling into the ice: taking ice away in sections having it disappear ahead of them in meter long spans and filling the void with air, once an opening large enough for the two of them to move through had been made. Cameron needed to push his ward forward a few feet at a time, then open up more tunnel. Building the ice tunnel with a gradually incline towards the surface was all Cameron could manage to move the limp body. It took the physically challenged boy what felt like forever to push and crawl through the at least 100-foot-long tunnel until an opening broke through into daylight. Cameron pushed the boy ahead of himself out of the tunnels mouth and onto the glaciers surface - giving one more shot of warmth to the boy.
Cameron was exhausted to the point where he could only rise onto his knees; panting from the exertion and slumped back sitting on his tired legs, looking towards the people gathered by the crevasse, it looked like more people had joined the original rescuers. He spotted Marcus and Grace, Grace had buried her head into Marcus’ chest, Cameron called out “HEY!” and waved an arm weakly over head, a few turned to see who it was – then the whole group dashed over to the boys.
It turns out the rescued boy was named Timmy (‘great’! thought Cameron ‘my life is turning into an episode of Lassie). Timmy was wrapped into blankets after being checked by Grace for injuries: he would have bruises and a sore chest but nothing broken. The Park Wardens had sent a rescue helicopter into which Timmy and his mother was loaded, it had room for another passenger and all eyes turned to Cameron expectantly, muttering “fine” he climbed in beside Timmy and the whirlybird lifted off. Cameron was again uneasy about being off the ground, but the view was incredible, his nervousness nearly forgotten as the majestic Rocky Mountains yielded a panorama that captured his heart.
The helicopter landed onto the helipad at the Jasper hospital, it had been an enthralling ride, Timmy was wheeled into emergency to get a thorough examination, his mother was grateful to Cameron but nervous around the boy as they sat in the waiting room, she seemed relieved when Timmy was placed into a recovery room for observation where she could join him.
Cameron sat alone nursing a hot chocolate in the waiting room: it was okay but needed marshmallows, the little bitty ones that would melt into gooey islands and leave you with a sticky moustache … hot chocolate just like Mom made.
Marcus and Grace walked into the hospital to find Cameron sitting holding an empty cup with his head resting on his chest, sitting down on either side they crushed him between them in a hug.
“How you doing kiddo?” asked Marcus moving back to get a look at him.
“I was thinking about my family” replied Cameron.
“Ohh honey, I’m so sorry” said Grace squeezing him.
“No! its okay, really. I was just thinking how they would have loved this place; it’s beautiful. They wanted me to have this experience – see all the stuff we’ve done. I can’t thank you enough for helping fulfill their dream - and being there for me” explained Cameron between sniffles “You’re the nicest friends I could have ever met: you’ll make great parents”.
“What?” nearly shouted Grace.
“You didn’t know your expecting? I just thought you didn’t want to say anything” backtracked Cameron.
“But, but, the bullet! Toxins! couldn’t have children?” sputtered Grace.
July 04 2007, Jasper Townsite
The train station that served Jasper Park must have been around for a century, it was picturesque which just gave Marcus more of an excuse to snap photos. The train was in the station boarding passengers, it was the moment that Cameron had been dreading: time to say goodbye. Marcus and Grace had been there to get him through some of the worst: the coma, the assignation attempts, a gender reassignment surgery. They had given him the strength to face his injuries, courage to explore powers, laughter when all he could do was cry, and cry when laughter hurt too much, these were true friends that had stuck through the bad times, they were family and Cameron loved them.
Cameron and Grace stood wrapped in an embrace.
“I don’t have the words! my heart wants to say so much, but - my mouth can’t form them” squeaked Cameron.
“I know, it’s okay” soothed Grace, holding his face and kissing his forehead.
Closing in for anther hug, Cameron asked “Is it goodbye?”
“Never that hon! only a ‘see you soon’” as she learned down to press foreheads “I’m going to miss you.”
The train whistle sounded to indicate ‘all aboard’, and Cameron stepped up into the railcar hefting a backpack onto his shoulders and waved a farewell, he was certain he could feel heartstrings snap with every turn of the wheel as the train pulled away.
Cameron quietly sat in the high windowed observation car no longer content to be watching the scenery out the window, it had at first enraptured the eye as the train passed through the mountain park following the cut path made by a river, but it had now entered into rolling parklands which held forests for as far as the eye could see: which in Cameron’s case was the curvature of the planet.
He hadn’t moved for a long time - occupied deep in thought; reflecting upon his recent experiences and pondering things learned. Buck had been an enigma, the man filled a room: not because of his size which was certainly considerable, but from his personality; he was warm and caring, so gentle yet unshakable. Buck had said that being big was a blessing and a curse, it meant that he was given freedom to not have to prove himself constantly – but a target to everyone wanting to make a name for themselves. Cameron was trying to understand what he had meant, what being a man entailed.
Cameron was still motionless, his eyes on autopilot just scanning the landscape when his RCMP escort plopped down beside him.
“You alright kid?” asked the young Constable.
“Yeah Ken, I’m okay, just pondering the meaning of life” replied Cameron.
“Wow, I usually just think about girls. Something in particular bothering you?”
“I know I’m on the right track … sorry - bad pun there, It’s just! can I face what’s coming?”
Ken thought for a moment “A wise man said to me once ‘sufficient for each day are its own troubles, don’t be anxious about tomorrows’”.
Cameron mulled that for a minute “So I shouldn’t make plans for tomorrow?”
“No, No. We have to plan ahead! its just that - all we can really do is make plans; and no matter how good “THE PLAN” we make is, it typically falls apart after the first couple minutes, it’s a matter of accepting that changes will happen and rolling with them.”
“But keep moving forward?” added Cameron.
“Sounds right!” pausing for a second he continued “Wanted to let you know Edmonton’s still two hours away, we will have to disembark and wait for another train thats heading East, there’ll be a couple hours in Edmonton. Anything you want to visit?” queried Ken.
“Farmers market?” questioned Cameron.
“I hope the local guys know a place. I’m going to close my eyes for a couple minutes, mind if I stay here?”
“No problem!”
Ken rather quickly settled into the slow breathing pattern of sleep, Cameron had nudged him along in that regard. Ken was okay, a newly minted officer just out of training at Regina and was assigned as Cameron’s personal guard … from his comments Ken had won a contest and his prize was Cameron detail.
Cameron detail in Edmonton consisted of three RCMP officers, Ken and two local officers, While Ken was in casual dress the two local guys were uniformed, and not the day to day outfit but full dress red serge including hats. Walking around the farmers’ market had been a blast with people wanting photographs taken with the iconic Mounty image, the smiles the Mounties wore spoke of their pride.
Cameron had been stall hopping looking for fresh fruit and vegetables and anything else of interest to load up his stores, something he had been doing after deciphering a certain dream. In his wanderings he found some excellent Ukrainian sausage, just before having to leave he bought Kettle corn – the bag was about as big as he was. The local officers puzzled at the boy: they knew he had purchased a lot but only carried the popcorn when they loaded up to return to the train station.
Everyone in the police cruiser partook of the Kettle corn on the way back, the sweet/salty smell was irresistible, but they hardly dented the full bag of the stuff. Cameron and Ken received quizzical glances as they got escorted onto the train platform by the officers in regalia – it didn’t stop photo hounds from wanting a special holiday picture with the Mounties; which made Ken say next stop he was going to the nines.
Before boarding a Conductor wanted to see Cameron’s pass and asked his destination: being Ottawa, the Conductor informed them that their baggage had already been loaded and that the railway had made special arrangements for them.
While the popcorn had been tasty they hadn’t eaten yet; so once aboard they went to the dining car. The train pulled away from the station starting its eastbound journey while they sat and ate, it was well along into the journey before Cameron decided to head towards his accommodation as he wanted to relax, he had booked a sleeping berth as the trip would take several days, the Conductor had said his car was at the end of the train but to ask for assistance.
Making his way down the rows of seats that lined each passenger car something clicked and Cameron stopped.
Lynn had been a terror hurrying her parents as they gathered their luggage together to board the train, they found a set of facing seats and stored their gear, Lynn was so tightly wound she looked like she would go off any second.
“Calm down dear” soothed her mother.
“I can’t believe this is happening! Everything getting us to here: It’s actually coming true!” said the girl nearly bursting.
“Give her some slack Terry, you get the same way sometimes” quipped Lynn’s father.
“I do not!” retorted Terry giving her husband Doug ‘the look’.
“Even seen you worse” remarked Doug winning a huff and playful swat on the arm from his wife.
“I don’t see him!” whined the girl looking about the compartment.
“Patience dear, patience” intoned her mother as the train lurched beginning its forward momentum, as the family settled in to get comfortable.
The girl reacted to any sound or movement like a cat poised to pounce, so when a young man walked down the aisle she watched him intently, he had entered the cabin and made a careful scan of the occupants as if assessing threats, he then made his way along the passage between seats but it wasn’t until he had moved beyond them that Lynn spotted the youth walking a step or two behind as the first man walked past. Lynn would have bolted if her father hadn’t reached across to block her darting up, noting her mothers gesture to sit and wait Lynn sank back into her seat.
Cameron stood for a second, his head making an odd twitch. He turned and backtracked to face the seated family.
“Sorry for how crazy this is going to sound, but I think I’m supposed to meet you” said Cameron as both a statement and a question.
“Have a seat” directed the man pointing to the open chair in-front of him, unfazed from Cameron’s comment “My name is Doug, my wife Terry, and our daughter Lynn.”
“Cameron … Burke” responded the mystified youth.
“Cameron, can you let me see your eyes?” asked Terry.
With a sigh, Cameron tipped down his visor, the brilliant telltale golden glow shining above the lowered lens.
“No doubt about it!” remarked Terry letting Cameron reposition his eyewear.
“Sorry, had you been expecting me?” begged Cameron.
“I think we should actually introduce ourselves” said Doug extending his hand “I’m Doug Franklin, I’m a mutant” shaking Cameron’s hand.
That piece of information confirmed what Cameron has spotted earlier: energy signatures, but not anything he had seen before. It turned out that Doug was a shape shifter which explained the rippling flow of energy about him, Terry was different again: she was a Were, specifically a werecat or to be precise a werepanther, which took some explaining as Cameron didn’t know anything about them, she further elaborated that she was a mutant Were – she had a minor form of precognition which also needed some explaining. Lynn was indeed their offspring: she was a multiform Were with precognition.
Cameron simply stated that he was an unknown as tests had been inconclusive, which was an unsatisfactory explanation, so he asked if they were thirsty to which he manifested four tall glasses of water with glacial ice cubes and queried “Ideas?”, Doug put forward ‘manifestor’ but Cameron detailed that; no, he just brought the glasses, water, and ice out of storage. He could manipulate matter but had not made anything, but given who his companions were/Were ... whatever, Cameron told them about his dreams, he knew to speak to them because it had been in his dream: it then dawned on him - in his dream he had normal sight, looking over at Lynn her gaze bore into him creating a pull like a vacuum, in his dream her eyes had been mesmerizing from being such a beautiful green, here – now: it was like trying to swim against a rivers current just like when Cameron was dumped out of the whitewater raft.
“Mr. Franklin, what do you do for work?” Cameron asked trying to not be rude by just staring at their daughter.
“I’m a wind-farmer, I have windmills that generate electricity on my ranch in Southern Alberta, I used to raise cattle and still have a few head, but electrical generation has become the big thing” stated Doug with a glint of pride.
“Did you name your farm?” asked Cameron between transfixing looks at Lynn.
Terry choked out a groan of “oh no!”
“I certainly did, named it ‘Passing Wind’, cause it’s always blowing” added Doug.
“Daddy can’t wait to get back to ‘Passing Wind’” was Lynn’s insightful comment.
With Doug quickly sliding in “I never stopped!”
Terry had a pained expression and let out a sigh, Lynn had a shocked look but fell into laughter which sounded like tinkling chimes, Cameron laughed at the joke as Doug had to guffaw at his own wit.
Cameron went silent for a brief moment, so Lynn asked “Is something wrong?”
“Deja-vu” was Cameron’s embarrassed response
“Unnerving isn’t it?” Lynn quizzed sympathetically.
“Is that why you’re here? Why you weren’t surprised by what I said?” questioned Cameron hoping for answers.
“Well …” hesitated Lynn.
“We both had our own revelations about being here and meeting you” remarked Terry “it’s the first time we’ve both seen the same thing: but Lynn had the date, time, and place to catch the train. In a way it’s like we know you …”
“Do you know why?” Cameron put forward.
“Why glimpses of the future? no – not really, for me its like standing at a crossroad and knowing to go that way, Lynn gets stronger impressions” was Terry’s almost apologetic reply.
“I see visions, I get a few moments in time but it’s out of place … maybe disjointed is a better way to describe them” explained Lynn “Sometimes it’s fixed and can’t be changed - other times fluid and the outcome is dependant upon what I do. Most times I can find something to link where or when I am seeing: I saw the printing on our train tickets so knew where we had to be.”
“My dreams are like watching a recording of a slice of your life, I take them to be like passing a sign on the road saying your heading in the right direction: just now; talking about your ranch, I had seen that before” informed Cameron.
“And you let the rest of us suffer through it” accused Terry.
The group had to laugh, fueled by Doug’s moaned “You wound me Love!”
The four sat and talked for hours, laughing and munching on Cameron’s Kettle corn. Ken approached them and indicated that they should find their rooms before dinner. Cameron excused himself and left the Franklins.
Once Cameron and Ken had left, Terry turned to her daughter “What do you think?”
“He’s nice, a little shorter than I thought he’d be” remarked Lynn.
“He’s still young dear” she purred.
The train Conductor had been impatiently waiting for the VIP’s to claim their rooms, it wasn’t often that the railroad went all out so the kid must be important, When Ken and Cameron found the man, he walked them down through the sleeper cars and stopped at the door to the last train car, the Conductor fumbled with keys and unlocked the door ushering them in. The whole car was a single private coach divided into bedrooms, dining area, and viewing seats, it was laid out to accommodate 8. When Cameron turned inquisitively to Ken he shrugged his shoulders and nodded acceptably. When Cameron asked the Conductor if he could invite quests the man informed him the entire car was at his disposal.
Cameron and Ken made their way back to the Franklins, asking if they would be interested in seeing what the railroad had assigned the two as rooms, the Franklins said ‘sure’ but paused worried about leaving their luggage alone, Ken and Cameron said they had enough room to stow it for them for the duration so helped carry their bags. Doug’s whistle when stepping into the train car best expressed the impression given by the luxury ride. Cameron offered for them to share the railroads hospitality, and although Terry had to be won over she acquiesced after a little prodding from Lynn and Doug. Ken Tallman was officially introduced - then it was a scramble to claim bedrooms and putting bags away.
Once everyone was seated into the comfy reclining chairs that granted an unimpeded view, Terry nearly pounced on Cameron “Spill” she asked with a sweeping motion to the private railcar.
Cameron sheepishly proceeded to explain the rail pass he had been given by the railroad as thanks for his part in cleaning up the derailment disaster, which necessitated describing what all he had done, which also lead into his helping Tim, Rachelle and Charlotte. Mentioning the two girls had caused Lynn to tense up, but as he described how they had needed his help to heal from their injuries and then getting put into protective custody due to a hateful father she relaxed.
Doug nodded in understanding, it was fairly common knowledge that Calgary was mutant un-friendly, they themselves had been purposely avoiding it for years. Cameron noticed the man wore two watches and asked about it.
Doug took off the watch on his right wrist and looked admiringly at it “This had been my grandfathers, he bequeathed it to me as a family heirloom. it still tells time perfectly.”
Lynn scoffed “Only twice a day, the hands haven’t moved since before I was born.”
“Hey” complained Doug, sour for having his thunder being stolen.
“May I see it?” asked Cameron reaching out for the watch.
“Don’t break it” Doug warned; smiling at the humour of it.
“I’ll be careful; anyone know what time it is?”
“It’s 7:30 pm on the button, guess we should think about dinner” replied Doug after looking at his other watch.
“The Conductor said dinner would arrive at 8:00” to his guests’ surprise, “it’s a nice watch Mr. Franklin, fine workmanship” remarked Cameron handing it back.
“Please, call me Doug, every time I hear Mr. Franklin I keep looking for my Pop” clasping the watch back to his wrist before noticing “It’s working!”
Cameron smirked “Just showing off, sorry.”
“Let me see hon, amazing … the jeweller said it couldn’t be repaired” admired Terry “even the face looks new” turning to Ken she asked “So tell me, is this why he needs a guard?”
“No Ma’am, Cameron here just needs protecting, there have been five assassination attempts that the force knows of” replied Ken who had tried to give them distance but had been drawn into the conversation.
All eyes were cast upon Cameron, waiting for the boy to crack under the scrutiny, it was Lynn who demanded “Spill” that broke Cameron’s willpower and he told his story, from the accident and coma, to awakening in hospital, Grace and Marcus, Mike, Karen, the assassins, the MCO, and the trial.
Terry placed her hand on Cameron’s lap “Thank you, dear. You’ve done well.” Looking again at Ken “Only one of you?”
“Just while on the train Ma’am, more on the ground” was all Ken would say.
They were called to the dining area, it had been set for the five of them, the wait staff brought in silver trays and unveiled baked salmon, rice with mushrooms, seasoned fresh asparagus, and leafy salad. The smell was intoxicating speaking of which the adults were served wine with Lynn and Cameron getting sparkling apple juice.
The food was delightful, the girls absolutely gushing over the salmon, having double servings … when the waiter brought in another salmon they looked ashamed but it didn’t stop them from dividing up the second one between them.
“So?” Cameron asked, pausing to let the drama build “Werecats?”
A wide-eyed moment was shared between Mother and Daughter, before they started to giggle, then the whole table broke into laughter, their secret revealed and all tension released.
Between dainty mouthfuls, being Were was explained, and since both were Werecats they Loved fish, that’s loved with a capital L to quote Terry. That topic continued through dessert which was a tasty fruit flan with cream. As Cameron watched the two women he began to discern small feline traits in their graceful movements and how they would track anything moving in the room with their eyes.
Returning again to the plush seating area, allowing the table to be cleared and the waiters to leave, the group settled in to enjoy the company as the evening cast long shadows and the sky took on splendid colours into the extended sunset of summer. Ken couldn’t help but ask about Were transformation as it was too interesting to leave unasked. Only after receiving Ken’s solemn oath did Terry move into her panther form, she was a pure black cat with shiny coat and sinuous muscles, even just laying on the couch with her long slender tail flicking about she looked dangerous.
Lynn rose from her chair and in that simple smooth - elegant motion she shifted into her cat, it too was a black panther almost a twin in size however having a patch of pure white hair on top of her head between her ears and then the blazing green eyes, Cameron checked her mother; she too had green eyes but not the same burning effect. Lynn circled around Ken and Cameron her taunt muscles a display of grace and poise which dancers could only fantasize of. Rounding behind the chairs Lynn surprised Ken by jumping up onto his chairs arm the size of a housecat, still all black except for the same patch, she jumped across Ken onto Cameron’s chair giving him a headbutt then slowly trailing her tail under his chin, the soft fur tickling him, she then jumped over to her own chair and in mid leap returned to human form and resumed sitting with her legs crossed and a bemused smile.
Cameron hadn’t noticed when Terry had returned to human form, his attention too focused upon the attractive girl. Ken was gasping at trying to absorb what he had just witnessed, Terry reached over and patted his knee “Thank you young man, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s almost said to me” her mischievous smile sending the group into laughter.
Lynn piped in “Your turn Daddy!”
“Okay, okay, give me a second” retorted Doug stepping back to his bedroom, after some rustling: out lolloped a large dog, as it neared them it morphed into a big cat like a mountain lion or cougar, again it morphed now it was an elephant but a fraction of a normal sized one, then a horse that again was correct in every detail except for the size, next a large chimpanzee moved up beside Terry and planted a big wet kiss on her, he proceeded to walk down the hallway with arms overhead making sounds reminiscent of laughter. Moments later Doug returned just as Terry was finishing trying to wipe up the mess off her face with a napkin she had retrieved, Doug wore a huge smile which only widened when Terry cut into him with “I love you dearly hon, but the sloppy kisses have to go” The chuckles that elicited required them to be hidden behind hands.
Doug managed to explain that he could take on any animal shape he had studied, but it would only be appropriate to his own weight, that’s why the elephant and horse were small.
Cameron asked how a shapeshifter and werecat met?
Doug settled into his highback chair with a snifter of brandy, and looked intently at Cameron “You’re heading to Whateley, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I start in the fall” responded Cameron.
Ken looked inquisitively “Whateley?”
“Private school in the States” answered Doug “It’s where I met Terry.”
Cameron was shocked “You both went to Whateley?”
“Not exactly” Terry interjected “He was a student, I lived nearby.”
Doug started his trip down memory lane “I had been practising with my ability, in class I’d learned all I could about big cats but there’s only so much books and films can teach you, I had made myself into a cat, a puma right dear?”
“Mountain lion hon.”
“Anyways, I left campus to stretch my legs, I was having a grand time running about through the forest learning to move like a cat.”
“Cats don’t crash through the forest like pregnant yak’s dear.”
“Of course Love, like I was saying, I was minding my own business when this panther attacks me out of the blue.”
“You had invaded our lands, of course I was going to defend it!”
“Naturally Lovie. We fought tooth and nail ... literally, I got in my licks but she beat me eventually.”
“He took off scared as a rabbit” Terry added as a sidebar “You ran headlong into a tree and knocked yourself out-cold Honey.”
“What can I say: At least I left a lasting impression.”
“You certainly did, that poor tree still has an imprint of your hard head.”
“True, true, but you have to admit it was a clever ploy.”
“What ploy? I had to drag your backside all the way to our village.”
“But I found out where you lived!”
“That … that’s true.”
“We started meeting in the woods, and well … how could a hot blooded young man resist such beauty.”
“That’s sweet hon, all I can say is: I’m a sucker for punishment.”
“That’s cruel.”
Lynn was finally able to cut in to add “You do realize I have to live with this!”
The shared laughter from seeing a families’ dynamics at play was endearing as the love between them was sincere and heartfelt, Cameron was warmed to be around a family again, a single sniffle the only sign of his twinged memory.
Darkness had descended, only the faintest glow remained of the day, everyone bade goodnight, sought their rooms and the beckoning pillows. Cameron found that the bed was comfortable enough and settled in - but despite himself just laid there reflecting upon how the day had unfurled: nothing like he’d planned but most agreeable nonetheless, he heard snores emitting from other rooms when his door opened and quickly closed, turning his head and opening his eyes, caught in the beams was a tiny kitten with tufted downy hair, it gave a soft ‘merrow’ then struggled to get onto the bed - once up it climbed atop Cameron’s blanket, kneaded a spot on his chest, curled up into a little fluffball and promptly fell asleep, the gentle rumble of her motor was exactly what Cameron needed to help him get to sleep.
July 05 2007, Saskatchewan
When Cameron awoke, Lynn was gone. He had had one of the most restful sleeps in recent memory, harkening back to when her little brother would climb into his bed when he couldn’t sleep … her, him, his. Cameron’s reaction was nauseating, it wasn’t that he’d forgotten! but gender just hadn’t been on her /his mind, arghh it was frustrating. It took awhile for Cameron to compose himself before joining everyone else.
The waiters had brought in a delicious selection of breads and jams for breakfast, along with an assortment of fruits. Ken asked if Cameron liked Rye bread, which was an affirmative, “good” he said” I know a great bakery in Winnipeg, we’ll have a couple hours to kill there”.
Lynn had claimed one of the comfy viewing chairs and was looking out at the near endless grain fields passing bye.
“Is this what it looks like where you live?” asked Cameron taking the seat beside her.
“Sorta, there’s more hills, and the mountains are just West of us” she replied “it’s funny, I see the wide open fields and I just feel like running, but it’s not a cats ‘natural’ habitat.”
“Are you a creature of habit?” postulated Cameron.
“No! well yes … maybe” huffed the delightful girl, even frustrated she drew Cameron in “I have cat tendencies but I control them, they’re just part of who and what I am.”
“So, sleeping on me last night was?” queued Cameron.
“Don’t tell my parents about that” she shushed him getting agitated “I don’t do well with strange beds … and you looked like you needed help too.”
“I won’t say a word … except Thank You” said Cameron softly to avoid being overheard. Looking back, he saw that the ‘grown-ups’ had begun playing cards and chatting. “I wanted to talk to you – but don’t quite know how to say it.”
“Why Cameron Burke! Are you hitting on me?” toyed Lynn taking on a southern accent and using her hand as a fan.
“It’s not that, I just wanted to explain …” stammered Cameron.
“No! too bad, you really should you know, If I’d met a girl that looked like me I would have hit on her” sulked Lynn.
“Who – Wah – Huh?” not the most intelligent of comebacks but being blindsided has that effect.
“Until a year ago I went by Larry” reaching over she extended her hand “nice to met you Cameron.”
Taking her hand and giving it a shake “Three months for me” inserted Cameron.
“I know” added Lynn ducking down into the chair trying to hide.
“Oh, come on!” sputtered Cameron.
“You know, your really kinda cute when you can’t talk” tossed out Lynn.
“Stop that … I’m just full-blown gonzo confused” retorted Cameron.
“Can’t imagine why?” smiled the girl.
“Okay, first off: how did you know?” asked Cameron with his hand holding his head over his eyes trying to abate a headache.
“Well, you see; in a vision I was in the room when your friends had to discuss getting you the gender surgery. You have really great friends you know, they truly do love you” Lynn then added “Seeing that tore me up something bad - it took Mom a long time to help me through that one.”
“Not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”
“Yah, sorry about that, I was rooting for you the whole time” comforted Lynn.
“Thanks, now what about you, how did you? questioned Cameron gesturing up and down at Lynn.
“Become the girl of my dreams?” teased Lynn “I grew up a Were and could take on a cat-form since really little: I would just be a kitten of course, but after I had turned fifteen – I had been out roughhousing with my brother, you know: practising to fight as cats. I had a really hard time coming out of my cat form and passed out, next thing I knew I was in bed and human: looking like this” sweeping her hand down her body “My parents said I had some kind of burnout. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to look in the mirror and see a pretty girl looking back at you?”
“Nope, can’t imagine it” taunted Cameron.
“Why… you!” burst Lynn trying to hit him as he ducked and covered.
“Hey you two, keep it civil over there” cautioned Doug calling over to them: then returned to his card game.
“So you have a brother? Older / younger?”
“Alan, he’s older, be 19 now; he didn’t take my change well, I think he needed to get away from me and headed off to join some fight with other Weres, we haven’t heard from him for a long time now. I sure hope he’s okay.”
The morning had flown by with conversation, joking, and games. Lunch was trays of sandwiches and sweets, Cameron quietly asked the waiter if it was possible to have fish for dinner again tonight: they didn’t have any available, so Cameron asked that if he could find some would the chef be able to prepare it.
The train pulled into Winnipeg’s station and true to his word Ken came out of his bedroom in red serge, Terry commented how dashing he looked which made his cheeks match his jacket, somehow Ken had arranged an RCMP van so the Franklins could join them, their first stop was Ken’s secret bakery which they bought out, then the group collected more goods at a Farmers Market, The Mounties became an attraction and Ken got his moment of glory, Lynn asked why Cameron needed all the food - his answer simply was that its from a dream, “nuff said” was her acceptance, then dragged him to a stall with fresh fish.
Everyone returned to the van as planned, with Lynn and Cameron carrying bags of hot mini-donuts which didn’t stand a chance of making it back to the train. Cameron found an internet connection and asked to get a group photo – his escort obliged and he managed to send an email to Grace and Marcus with a brief note describing how the trip was going.
Marcus was busy working at his home computer when he spotted Cameron’s email, opening it he called Grace over, they read it together and then called up Cameron’s photo.
Grace flushed when she saw a picture of a stunning green eyed raven haired girl standing way too close to Cameron, “I need names, addresses, phone numbers” she shouted “when’s the next flight out?”
“Now hon, don’t get excited in your condition” soothed Marcus.
“Don’t you condition me! Keep up that attitude and you’ll be sorry for the condition you find yourself in Bub” came the near frenzied Grace’s response.
“Dear, look! their traveling with her parents, and the RCMP guard, he’ll be fine!” reaching out Marcus wrapped Grace into his arms holding her tight.
Reason began to break through, after blowing her nose and dabbing a tear, she looked up into her husbands’ eyes “Promise?”
“Yes, I promise” said Marcus as he tenderly kissed his wife.
“I’m holding you to that” cooed Grace resting her head against her husband’s chest.
The train left Winnipeg on schedule as the Eastward trek continued. Later, as the happy travelers sat to dinner, Cameron had difficulty holding a straight face when the waiters presented the fresh rainbow trout grilled to perfection, Terry’s eyes took on a feral look “My favourite, how did you know?” she asked. “Cat’s got my tongue” claimed Cameron who had to evade the balled up napkin thrown at him by Lynn upset at either the bad pun or being ratted out.
The meal had been superb, and everyone lounged about finding a spot to get comfortable and relax. Cameron and Lynn started playing a game of what else ‘Go Fish’:
“This morning, I never got to ask my question” spoke Cameron in hushed tones.
Reciprocating Lynn said “That’s right, you never did ask me on a date.“
“Your incorrigible!”
“I don’t think that means what you think it means.”
“What: incurable, uncontrollable, delinquent.”
“More like: perfect, faultless, pristine”
“That would be ‘impeccable’”.
“Why: Thank You” coyly commented Lynn.
“For What!” remarked an exasperated Cameron.
“The compliment silly, a girl likes to be complimented once in a while you know, shouldn’t make her fish so hard to get one either. Your turn by the way.”
“So all that was about getting a compliment!”
“Naturally, we are playing ‘Go Fish’ after all.”
“You sure play by different rules than I do.”
“Uh-huh, so what’s this big question of yours?”
“Honestly, I think you just answered it.”
“Come-on, spill!”
“Fine… What have you found different between being a boy and girl?”
“I guess it is something we should compare notes on” thinking for a second, Lynn asked “Did you play sports?”
“Some baseball, and figure skating.”
“Well, in ball did you have to compete to get on the team?”
“Nahhh, we had trouble finding enough players.”
“Okay, so: for guys, its like looking at life as a competition, you need to make your own place in the world and get accepted on the team, see if you size up to the next guy. If they aren’t a threat then you can usually be friends, it isn’t so much about fighting as it is fitting in and being respected – respect! That’s it: I think guys need to feel respected.”
“And as a girl?”
“I’m still working on that one. For the most part they have been really nice; friendly, sweet. Sometimes they say hurtful stuff which is usually just trying to tear someone down to make themselves look better, kinda like when a guy is jostling to fit in – but it feels different with girls: I don’t know ... emotional maybe. I would say relationships are more important: making and being friends. Does that make any sense?”
“Kinda … yeah. I’ve noticed that girls are more about communicating: sharing thoughts and feelings, life isn’t a constant battle over fitting in but finding commonality with others, but the stories I’ve heard from older girls are completely different once ‘boys’ get added into the equation. So if guys need respect, I’d say girls need to be loved … and I’m not talking about sex.”
“Duh! I figured that” sniped Lynn.
“Mom used to say that ‘a man can build a house, but it takes a woman to make a home’ I don’t think I can just forget all I was growing up to be and become something else.”
“Like switching from being left handed to right handed, the brain fights it.”
“I simply haven’t been a boy for very long, I don’t know how to be one: how to act – what’s expected of me. It’s why …”
“Why what?”
“It’s why I can’t think about dating, I’m so conflicted. Spending time with you is terrific – but in my heart: I’m just not ready.”
“I get it. Kinda like with Mom teaching me to cook – say when making a cake: you get all the ingredients together and put it into the oven but if you take it out too soon it’ll flop.”
“Uh huh. Maybe … in a while, I’ll be ready to date.”
“Why Cameron Burke! I do believe you just asked me out.”
“I suppose I did at that.”
“Well then, I look forward to it.” smiled Lynn, fixing Cameron in her gaze over the cards “See: it wasn’t so hard – and you didn’t even need to get knocked out”.
July 06 2007, Ontario
Cameron stirred from his slumber, breakfast having been delivered cueing the end of sleep and the beginning of another day, once again he’d had a nocturnal visitor, Lynn in kitten form had slept curled up on his chest. At first light she had woken and stretched, then with a sandpaper like tongue licked the tip of his nose, Lynn then plopped onto the floor and with her tail held high in an exaggerated sway leaving the room.
Breakfast was in warming trays loaded with plenty of scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, and hashbrowns. The train would arrive in Thunder Bay early so they needed a hearty meal to carry them through the layover. Ken appeared in casual attire so then when the RCMP escorts also arrived in plain clothes - Cameron quizzed his guard finding out that rumours had surfaced saying the MCO had jacked up their bounty on Cameron. Instead of the usual stops the group hunted clothes and an outdoor outfitter which was also on Cameron’s list.
Terry and Lynn both had the killer instinct for bargains and managed to track down the highly elusive perfect sweater, Cameron had been okay with shopping before but now it was: walk in, find his size, pick the colour he liked and pay for it, no trying it on in the change rooms – no debating between four identical outfits with slightly different colouration: Cameron had become such a guy as Lynn put it.
The train rolled out just before noon and lunch was delicious soup and salad. The scenery along Lake Superior was stunning with the shoreline visible between openings in the trees. Doug had noticed a breeze was blowing and wondered if it would be a good area for windmills, Cameron moved to the table and began manifesting miniature models of potential designs for a wind turbine he had been thinking about, Doug’s interest was immediately drawn to Cameron’s ideas and the two went off into guy-land talking shop. Doug mentioned that windmills have a design flaw: they fight gravity so Cameron’s newest design’s would actually use gravity to help rotate the turbine. Cameron made working models to illustrate the principle he used, once Doug had poked and prodded them he then said he wanted to try full scale units back home. Cameron had no objection and prepared blueprints in-order to share the design with him.
Cameron had been quietly occupying one of the chairs ostensibly watching the view out the window, Lynn had taken her house cat size form and was in the chair beside him – having fallen fast asleep in the rays of sunlight streaming through the windows, Cameron was concentrating deeply working on a project in the ‘Warehouse’, so much so he totally missed Terry asking him if he wanted something to drink, however when she came over and rested a hand on his shoulder and asked him again, he looked up with a smile “Let me get us something” and manifested tall glasses of ice cold glacier water.
Cameron moved over to the table to join Terry and Doug, Cameron motioned to Lynn questioningly - with Terry saying “Let her sleep: you have no idea how good a catnap feels” after taking an appreciate sip from her glass Terry looked intently at Cameron “I don’t think you know how important meeting you has been to Lynn”
Cameron paused at the comment “How so?”
Terry told the story: “These last few days we feel like we have our child back, after Lynn changed she became withdrawn and no matter what we tried we couldn’t reach her. When she started getting visions about you she began to open up. I think knowing that someone else experienced a sex change made a huge difference for her”.
“So the change wasn’t easy for her either?”
“Oh heavens No! My poor baby cried and screamed and wouldn’t accept what had happened, tried for weeks to shift back to being a boy, the dejected look when he finally gave up tore us apart inside. All we could do was let her know we loved her as our child – gender didn’t matter” spoke Terry without once raising her head “when she found out about you - what you went through, her own issues got put on the backburner; when she saw your friends talking about your needing surgery she was despondent for a long time since she didn’t know if you’d made it”.
“What happened to snap her out of it?”
“The train trip, when she saw that you would be on it – come hell or high water, we were going to be here”.
“So if she has had such a hard time accepting the new her why’d she pressure me to ‘notice’ her?”
“It’s complicated, I’d say Lynn must have believed the best way she could help you work through becoming male was to show you being a guy has perks; like the attention of a pretty girl”.
“Thank you for letting me know, I appreciate hearing about what you have all had to go through. I had been so worried that my parents wouldn’t understand - its nice to think of them as having shown the same love and patience as you both did for Lynn”.
“That’s sweet, keep talking like that and we’ll have to adopt you”.
Dinner had been amazing with a really tasty wild mushroom soup followed by steak and fresh vegetables, everyone waddled to find a comfy chair to hear Doug recount of his time at Whateley, he had attended on a scholarship and worked on the grounds crew to contribute to the cost of his education.
Overall the day had been relaxing, spent with good friends that filled it with laughter and cheer. No one wished to disembark in the wee hours of the morning when the trained would arrive in Toronto, which put Ken’s mind at ease. Ken continued to read the book he had been quietly immersed in while the others talked and played cards, for Cameron it was like being part of a family again which dulled the loneliness he feared.
Amber was scared, no… terrified might begin to capture how she was feeling. She stood at the train station in Toronto waiting for the eastbound heading to Montreal, she was one of the Psychics the MCO had enlisted into ‘helping’ deal with their problem, if the definition of being enlisted included being blackmailed and having an explosive device implanted near your heart as well as your child threatened.
It had been only a few days ago that the MCO had notified her that they needed her to come in due to an error in her records; understandably she was concerned when she entered the MCO office to clear up whatever was wrong on her file, there had been no hints of any ill intent when she arrived, it was when the tranquilizer dart hit her that everything fell apart.
Amber had awoken in a room with 6 other psychics, each getting the same implant. Their tormentors wore strange little metal hats that looked like the beanies astronauts wore inside spacesuits, none of the psychics in the room had been able to get a solid reading off anyone wearing one of those hats.
She stood shivering in the night air, stamping her feet to get blood circulating again, the MCO had them watching transportation routes, she was assigned to watch the train station, she felt the GPS stuffed into her coat pocket, it brought back the memory of the one man who fought against the MCO in the room: his death when the bomb blew his chest open had been a shock that still haunted her and provided the motivation to get their compliance.
Cameron woke to find the train not moving, it had pulled into Toronto’s station and was in the middle of offloading passengers and bringing new ones aboard, the activity was light with only a few people moving about as luggage was getting transferred. Lynn was on her perch rolled into a tight fuzzball atop the blankets, Cameron didn’t move so as not to disturb her – but watched the downy fur rise and fall as she slept, he pondered how odd it was to have someone act so strong outwardly yet be so tender inside: respect and love wasn’t it, Lynn blurred those lines … and yet - so did he.
Cameron was mediating upon the conversation he had had with Lynn, and was distracted to the extent of not noticing the uninvited guest in his mind.
Amber was finished scanning each of the passengers as they left - just as she had done with those waiting to board, now she walked the length of the train checking for the target they had been recruited to deal with, in the very last car someone stirred from their sleep and the reading Amber collected told about another nearby who fit the profile she was to watch for.
Amber stood in front of a massive wall which rose high above and had no discernible openings, the smooth ivory finish looked like marble, as she drew her hand across the surface with a feathery light touch it was warm which surprised her. She began to walk the perimeter of the wall and on the opposite side found a small locked doorway.
Amber’s psychic instructor had said people could employ locks to keep secrets from being discovered and that a skilled psychic would need to be a locksmith to get beyond those barriers – she hadn’t ever expected his descriptive teachings to be so literal as it now appeared. After many attempts she finally felt the lock yield as the door opened slightly and she slid in.
Typically a mind is organized to match the persons lifestyle and experiences: business men who made up most of Ambers normal clientele would have a lot of clutter in the peripheral with a clear and focused space front and center, with crisp lines indicating purpose and drive.
Her daughters mind was a relatively small space with bright distractions and abundant colours.
What she found hidden here was not what she expected to see at all: instead of a young random mind – there was a grand foyer to an immaculate manor, wood paneled walls that had a lightness about them while an easy peaceful feel pervaded the space, the room she stood in was circular with entrances leading off into other rooms, notable was the stair case straight ahead that rose up a flight to a landing with a closed door, the stairs continued up to additional landings each having one or two doorways.
Moving to the middle of the great hall, Amber could look into each of the rooms: they all had the same clarity and resolution as the central foyer; each room held windows which looked out upon scenes of tranquil beauty - but not one was the same vista as the others. She noted that one room had the appearance of a library; a single large book sat open on a raised platform; around it lay other books on top of the table used as reference texts, while many other books filled the shelves that lined the walls behind.
The second room was akin to a sitting room with formal upholstered chairs around a solid looking carved wood table, it had a tea setting at the ready with a bowl of fruit and tray of biscuits on a small side table. The other side of the hall also had two rooms with one looking like a workshop, a centrally located large solid table held many odd items in varying degrees of completion, a cabinet sitting in a corner was filled with drawings while tools of every kind had been placed on shelves or hung neatly off hooks and arrayed on the walls. The last room held little more than portraits on the walls and a few knick-knacks - a single high back wing chair was positioned to allow viewing of the pictures, a youth occupied the seat facing away from Amber in the foyer.
Amber hated what she had to do next, but her life and that of her daughter was in the balance, she slowly – silently drew out a long black shard; it had taken a huge amount of practise at the hands of her teacher to learn how to make a psychic weapon like this, and as yet she had never used her ‘sword’ to harm another, cautiously she moved up behind the unawares youth, then with a single thrust Amber drove the sharp edged shard through the chairs back and into the unsuspecting occupant; piercing the young mind.
Cameron had wanted to remain motionless and not disturb Lynn, she looked so peaceful lying there curled up – the tip of her tail flicking occasionally in response to what he hoped was a pleasant dream.
A searing agony tore through him, his eyes registered what looked like a black sword coming out from his chest, his body refused to respond and he was held stuck with his hands locked in a moment of fright.
Lynn was shaken awaken by a sudden jarring - something felt off, she stretched with a big yawn escaping before opening her eyelids. She puzzled for a moment at Cameron who was unmoving and had a look of shock written on his face, it was as if he was holding his breath.
Stepping forward she licked his nose but her friend was unresponsive. Near to her was his hand frozen in a death like claw, the fingers spread and stiffly bent, nudging the hand had no effect so she bared her tiny razor sharp teeth and proceeded to bite his little finger as hard as she could. The result was that his body relaxed and slumped as if exhuasted and releasing a sigh of relief which was Lynn’s reward.
Cameron’s mind snapped back with full attention, something had kick-started him which permitted fighting off the darkness in the sword which had been stuck into him, the sword dissolved with a hiss and the wound shone brightly for a mere second as the flesh was restored.
Cameron stood with purpose; as he rounded the chair he was rapidly clad in a suit of armour that shone nearly as brightly as his eyes - which now blazed from under his helmet, spotting his adversary Cameron withdrew from it’s scabbard his sword – it too cast the brilliant golden light and the flash of the imposing blade caused an “Eeep” to escape from Amber.
Amber ran looking for refuge and ducked into Cameron’s Library, grabbing books and strew them in her wake, as she rounding the desk she picked up books intent upon throwing them in defence. Cameron was not all that imposing a figure at barely five feet tall and having a slight frame: but Amber understood that being in someone else’s mind meant they held all the cards; if they knew how to play that is. With a wave of Cameron’s hand all the books returned to their spot on the shelves, (I’ve never seen anyone do that before) worried Amber – getting a sense that she was not facing an inexperience foe.
With unsteady hands Amber worked to draw out another shard; calling upon her life-force to bring it forth, she had only ever tried making the single blade before so she had no idea what making a second one in short order might mean. This shard was much smaller; more the size of a dagger, which she held up to caution the youth. Amber promptly fell to her knees and slumped against the desk from having over extended herself and found herself powerless.
Amber was in a stupor, still somewhat conscious but hadn’t the strength to do much more than know she was alive. She felt being dragged, then the cool liquid being poured down her throat and it helped to revive her, she was in the sitting room firmly secured to a chair with her hands at her sides, sitting across the table was the youth she had skewered not long ago - no longer wearing armour.
“I’ll make this easy on you… just answer my questions: first, who sent you?” asked the young looking boy staring at her with the bright glowing eyes.
“The MCO are forcing me to attack you” responded Amber in a near panic.
“What leverage could they possibly use to make someone kill?”
“My daughter, they’re holding my daughter, and - they have a bomb implanted in my chest.”
“If that’s true, why were your weapons darkborne?”
“All psychic weapons I’ve ever heard of are that colour, I didn’t know they could be any different till I saw yours.”
“Tell me why I should let you live?”
“I’m the only family my daughter has!”
After a brief moment of evaluation came the reply “Then for the sake of your daughter you get to live”.
Amber felt the bindings holding her release, the youth approached and hoisted her out of the chair and carried her forcibly to the exit door, she was unceremoniously heaved outside with the door slammed closed behind her; then it vanished from sight leaving no potential entrance through the wall.
Amber withdrew and started to shiver as the cold night air became noticeable again, she looked around at the platform unsure if it had been a minute or a day that she had been gone. In her hand was something strange, opening what had been her fist she found a small metallic cylinder wrapped in a note: ‘There is no longer a bomb to worry about, taking care of your daughter is up to you.’
Cameron opened his eyes and the light brightened the otherwise darkened room, mere millimeters away was a set of astonishing green eyes looking down at him as hot breath washed over his nose, he felt two paws using his upper lip for support, he raised his throbbing left hand above both of them and looked at the reddened digit.
“Thank you” offered Cameron, and gently ran his fingers down the kittens fur from crown to tail. The delicate ‘merrow’ he got in acknowledgement said volumes as Lynn resumed her post atop his chest and settled back into a ball of fluff, Cameron couldn’t hold back the laugh when she winked at him.
July 07 2007, Ottawa Ontario
The train pulled into Ottawa in the afternoon, they had all enjoyed lunch together, but this was Cameron’s last stop. He had asked if the railway would allow the Franklins continued use of the private car for the rest of their trip to Montreal, they graciously agreed as that was the coach’s destination too.
Ken and Cameron had packed their bags and they’d been taken by porters. The group stood on the platform torn by having to part company so soon. Doug shook Cameron’s hand and patted him on the back, saying thanks. Terry gave Cameron a gentle hug and peck on the cheek, saying he’d better stay in touch. Cameron extended his hand to Lynn who dodged past it - instead wrapping her arms around his neck and locking her lips to his, surprise - shock - fear: sure… but after a moment he softened up and returned the affectionate display holding her tight.
Parting; Lynn breathily said “I wanted my first kiss to be something special” then pressing in for a tight hug resting her head against his neck.
Doug cleared his throat before saying “Young man, what are your intentions towards my daughter?” for which he received a swat from Terry “but I wanna know!” he whined. When Lynn stepped up beside her parents she also was the recipient of a swat saying “owww” while rubbing the offended arm.
As the pair walked away from the Franklins, Lynn called out “You won’t forget me will you?”
Cameron turned to her and replied “As if that could EVER happen”, continuing to walk Cameron had a smile plastered on his face a jackhammer couldn’t remove.
As the two headed off into the bustling station, Terry hugged her daughter saying “You marked him, didn’t you?”
“Trust Mom, trust” was Lynn’s comment as she stood tiptoe trying to see him one last time through the crowd.
Ken and Cameron waited outside the train station for the escort RCMP’s cruiser to pull up, turning to Cameron - Ken said “You are undoubtedly the luckiest guy I know, she is one hot little lady.”
“Think so?” questioned Cameron as he slid his tongue around checking his gums “I figure she stole my wisdom teeth.”
Ken’s eyebrows raised and his lips tightened in the struggle not to laugh but still allowed a smile to form “Well then, I wish someone would steal my wisdom teeth.”
Cameron looked at him intently “Really? We could head to a zoo; you might be able to sweet talk a chimpanzee.”
Ken looked stunned with a blank expression for a second then keeled over laughing hard with Cameron joining him, it is as they say ‘easier to laugh than cry’.
End Chapter 2
A Matter of Fact: Chapter 3 (part 7 and Epilogue)
By Camospam
July 10, 2007. Ottawa
Cameron was dragged out of bed … in a rather abrupt and forceful manner, Ken pulled the mattress off the bed frame, dumping the sleeping boy onto the floor, then his RCMP guard kneeled down beside him drawing his pistol and aiming at the door.
“What!!! it’s like - two in the morning?” moaned the groggy youth
“We’re under attack” supplied Ken, motioning the boy to lower his voice
“Not another drill!” whispered Cameron
“This is all too real” cautioned Ken. “The perimeter has been breached; a sentry called in spotting 5 mercs in assault gear approaching from the South, his call was cut off”
Cameron looked at his protector, he was not in uniform instead dressed in his sleepwear, if anything about Ken he was always prepared - to see him without proper clothes: Cameron knew it had to be serious.
“How far away was the perimeter set up at?” asked the boy slowly coming awake
“Two blocks” informed Ken
Adjusting his vision Cameron began making a sweep around the safe house to assess what was happening “Wow! Theres a lot of people outside, I’ve counted 30 so far, all of them in combat gear. I can’t tell them apart.”
“Your detail has 12, that means …”
“Yeah. I get what that means” sighed Cameron “There’s guys out there: out numbered and outgunned - trying to protect me”.
“It could get ugly.” Admitted Ken. “Do you have your protections up?”
“Let me try something” Bowing his head in concentration Cameron focused hard, extending himself further than ever before, the boy visible shook from effort, grunting and straining for minutes before facing Ken.
“I’ve had to incapacitate everyone around us … including our own men, I’m sorry”.
Ken looked at the boy for a long moment making mental calculations “How long will everyone be down?”
“I’ve blocked neural pathways, they won’t wake till I release them” informed Cameron
“Good. I’ll make a call for support, is anyone hurt?” asked Ken
“Three had been knocked down - better get an ambulance just in case” added Cameron
Once Ken made the call, the two dressed to brave the night air. Walking amid the fallen men, Ken pointed out his RCMP contingent - both sides wore near identical gear, which had made it hard to distinguish who was who, it also spoke to the fact that the assailants had access to government tech. Each of Cameron’s guards was waken and ensured healthy; with Cameron personally apologizing. The revived force then began collecting up and securing the weapons while restraining the attackers.
As the reinforcements arrived, those officers who had engaged in hand-to hand fighting got checked out, with only one man suffering a broken arm: which Cameron helped repair. All told there was twenty assailants, none had identification on them but considering the guns and armour they used these had to be trained soldiers.
The RCMP confiscated the transport trucks used by the black ops team, it had been parked within Cameron’s range and the drivers were also among the arrested men, as soon as the ‘bodies’ had been gathered and shipped away; Cameron released all his safe house’s neighbours to let them return to their peaceful sleep, undisturbed and unaware of the near war that could have broken out. Once freed the safe houses surrounding area resumed usual activity with a dog barking a distance aways.
The safe house was located in a nice quiet residential area of Ottawa with beautiful tree lined streets, the house used was a welcoming two story home that Cameron had just begun to feel comfortable in, his second story bedroom becoming his safe haven, that sense of security having been shattered.
Ken and Cameron joined the detail as it took the arrested covert team to secure holding facility, and once all had been confined Cameron removed the neural blocks and stepped back to watch the men awake: finding themselves in jail and completely screwed. Included within the confiscated weaponry was tracking equipment that linked to bugs which had been placed on the vehicles used as part of Cameron’s protective detail.
Cameron was offered a bunk in a secluded area, and the boy settled in to resume an interrupted dream. So much for life and the carefully crafted plan he’d made, it was now in shreds; the trail which was to have started July 16 was now postponement to August 7th . He would be arriving late to Whateley now – not exactly the first impression Cameron had wanted to make.
July 13, 2007. Somewhere beneath Ottawa
Cameron once again found himself relocated, now being moved to a new, better, stronger safe house. Since arriving he was having difficulty keeping occupied, sure there was his remote school work which had helped pass many hours, but all work and no play makes Cameron… uptight.
One thing about it: this safe house was certainly safe - but lacked the house aspect. The RCMP had put him up in an old bomb shelter from the cold war days, they told him it had been built for the Prime Minister and his Cabinet, considering the telltale 60’s decor it might have been pretty posh 50 years ago.
To be fair a few renovations had dragged the bunker: which he nicknamed the ‘Dugout’, into the new century: like a wide screen TV in the Rec room and Wi-Fi throughout, but with Cameron having a difficult time zeroing his sight onto motion pictures; TV didn’t interest him, although he would tune in Jeopardy nightly and get somewhat rambunctious - nothing like Annie’s crew back at the Care Centre mind you, but once his wardens started chipping in it became a ritual that they all seemed to enjoy.
Ken had requested that he be allowed to remain on ‘Cameron Detail’ and given his relationship with the boy, it was granted. Ken helped to alleviate the boredom; and had somehow arranged shipments of all sorts of broken items to keep Cameron on his toes, so that - and during his wanderings Cameron had repaired most anything that was broken in the Dugout.
Today for excitement: a meeting had been scheduled with an RCMP official which Ken had no knowledge about - and couldn’t provide Cameron any ‘inside’ information.
Cameron sat alone in the large meeting room that had a plague above the door reading ‘Cabinet Room’, he was working away on his laptop when the knock on the door announced his meeting guests’ arrival. Cameron yelled “Its open” to the two men waiting at the door.
The first to enter was Ray Martin; the Special Investigations Officer that Mike Williamson was working closely with, the second man was introduced as Yvan Garrick: an RCMP Chief Superintendent. Cameron could only imagine this had to do with the court case so asked if there was any news about the trial. Ray assured him that Mike and Karen had it all well in hand, however - since the assault team, the RCMP had re-evaluated their security arrangements: Mike and Karen would be joining Cameron in the bunker shortly as a safe workspace, it would also become their accommodations while in Ottawa. Having company sounded great to Cameron.
Yvan was not a man to dally about and got to the point “Cameron: would you be interested in working for the RCMP?”
Curiosity piqued, Cameron asked “What would I be able to do?”
Yvan elaborated how he had been tasked to review all the reports which had been generated concerning Cameron: the assassination attempts, the train wreck, and rescues. It had become apparent to him that Cameron could be of great assistance to the Force; especially considering his ability to effect capture of dangerous individuals without conflict or damage.
It was Yvan’s firm belief that the RCMP would benefit greatly having a resource like Cameron available for neutralizing hazardous individuals and dealing with risky situations. Cameron carefully considered what the man had said, but it really struck home when Ray said “Please”.
Cameron expressed his priorities: first the trial, then attending school. Should there be situations in which he could provide assistance during that time frame he would gladly support the RCMP.
The men readily agreed to Cameron’s terms, it became obvious that the men had planned ahead since it was a slippery slope to be hiring a technically underage minor, however it turns out that a long forgotten clause remained on the books which allowed for hiring a person with specialized skills, plus it had no age restrictions attached. It felt sneaky but was legit: Cameron was hired as a ‘Scout’ assigned to Special Investigations with the temporary rank of Special Constable. All in all - Cameron felt very special at meetings end.
July 16, 2007. Ottawa
Cameron tore into the box that had been special delivered – when your bored it’s the little things that brighten your day. The box contained a jacket and shirts with ‘RCMP’ emblazoned on them, sure he could have peeked into the box but where’s the fun in that. Donning his new duds there was little chance he could be mistaken for anything other than being associated with the RCMP, the big bold reflective lettering stood out worse than his eyes at midnight, at least he wasn’t expected to carry a gun or arrest people – two points everybody agreed upon in negotiating the job.
Cameron settled down and got to business: working on his latest school assignment, when the Dugouts PA system blasted out, alerting everyone (except those who’d died of fright) that he and Ken were needed to attend a meeting in ‘Cabinet’. Cameron looked up at the huge horn that was the speaker in his room – ‘that’s one thing I shouldn’t have fixed’ muttered the boy.
Upon entering Cabinet; Ken was already seated and had been informally introducing himself to the other members of Ray’s Special Investigations Operations Team. Aside from Ray it consisted of two men and a woman.
Looking at the assembled folks: Cameron could tell there was more to this ‘Special Investigations’ team than just the name. Ray was normal, however the three others – they each had different signatures: a) the lady: Pamela Robertson, code named ‘Smith’, she was medium height but very thin so looked gaunt, however she also had a field emitting around her head that looked like Saturn’s rings: Pam was introduced as the teams’ technical support and being a gadgeteer. b) next was Al Koenig, a French Canadian who stood just below six-foot-tall but had a barrel chest and thick arms, he had chosen the code name Roche de Boule, but answered to Roche (Ken said it translated as ‘the boulder’), he shared energy traits with Grace so when he was described as an exemplar it made some sense to Cameron, although Al was also something called a PK Brick. c) Then came John Bastain; who Cameron already knew, Cameron had noticed John had an odd appearance before but now being introduced as a teleporter - Cameron was beginning to sort out what his sight told him as energy streams rolled out from and around him then would cascaded into John, John’s code-name was Leap.
Ray; who everyone had been calling ‘Bossman’ headed the briefing, he set about explaining that Outlook would be joining the team temporarily, with Ken riding shotgun since Outlook was officially un-official. Ray started by opening Ken’s file which contained numerous awards and notations of merit: many stemming from his mixed native heritage; a talented marksman, fluent in French, English, as well as 3 native dialects, in the top ten of the class in scholastic marks (Cameron chuckled recalling what Ken had said about winning a contest: babysitting Cameron being the prize). Ken received approving nods from his new teammates.
The teams’ eyes turned upon Cameron as they each appraised the kid sitting amongst them. Not having won the man’s confidence Al asked “What’s it do?” pointing his thumb at Cameron from across the table. He and John exchanged heated words to which Pam added fuel to the fire, from appearances the team had not jelled at all and it had come to feuding between them, noting that Ray had not inserted his authority – Cameron stood and addressed his vocal teammates “To answer your question: He can drop you in a heartbeat”.
Roche rose quickly to the implied threat, scooted his chair away from himself as he leaned far over the table to sneer “I would like to see you try boy” Cameron observed Roche’s protective field pulsating.
“As you wish” replied Cameron, the man simply flopped onto the table top like a sack of potatoes pushed off a truck.
Ray wasn’t shaken – nor did he seem overly concerned, just asked “Is he still conscious?” to which Cameron nodded an affirmative “Good, just leave him be and lets continue, shall we?”
The remainder of the meeting set out the rules under which Outlook could engage in conflict, not being a full fledged officer he was going to need to be supported and protected by each of them - since he would not be carrying a sidearm nor have the authority to arrest someone. After explaining Outlook’s roll Ray put the question to the room: seeking the commitment from each team member whether they would agree to work with Outlook. When asked; Roche could blink once for no and twice for yes, the two blinks ended his enforced timeout.
‘Smith’ distributed gear to each of the ‘newbs’: phone’s of her own design which were satellite linked, having GPS, audio and video recording features, and a Taser – only Ken’s Taser was enabled, in explaining the phone ‘Smith’ showed them the earbuds which let them communicate to the others on a secure channel called ‘Com’. Smith then supplied Ken handcuff’s rated for exemplars, Ken was issued a highly modified revolver in place of his field issue. Pam then handed them both batons that would stun – Cameron looked at it and tested it out but handed it back saying “Don’t need it, but thanks”. Smith then explained that the clothes Outlook wore had been made from a new fabric that was bulletproof, Ken was to receive his uniform of the same material soon.
Ray approached and addressed Cameron in front of the team “Welcome to Special Investigations: Sergeant ‘Outlook’” handing Cameron a badge and shaking his hand.
Al objected “Boss, you can’t be serious, he outranks me!”
Ray looked at the team as a whole “Outlook alone is responsible for twice the number of arrests than all of you combined … also, it’s the only rank that the union reps would allow us to put him in for his job classification. If you have issue with it: bring it to me in private”.
July 17, 2007. Ottawa
The Dugout had an open area which was re-designated as a Gymnasium and some exercise equipment was set up, Cameron had been trying to spend some time each day to strengthen his muscles and build stamina. Ken had been working with Cameron teaching him how to roll and fall without hurting himself, it was helping to develop better movement and more fluid motion.
Al’s entrance into the Gym had not gone un-noticed by Cameron as he and Ken continued to practise, Al stepped onto the mats they had been using - barking that it was his turn, Cameron recognized the man’s belligerence noting how his skin was flushed and his fists opened and closed in anticipation of a fight. Ken and Cameron began to leave when the man demanded “Not you boy! Time you learned something”.
“Some other time Roche” responded Cameron with a slight bow before turning to leave.
The man raged “Now!” reaching over he grabbing Cameron’s shoulder in a vise-like grip, the sickening crunch of Cameron’s’ shoulder blade echoed through the room. Cameron took a knee cradling his left side wincing at the pain. Ken rushed to place himself between the two.
“You idiot” yelled Ken into the man’s face.
“The twerp had it coming” retorted the man with smugness.
“He’s just a kid!” demanded Ken.
“Yah, so what! he’ll be out of our hair now, and good riddance” spat Al.
Un-noticed by the others Cameron had stood, stretching his arm and rotating it nodding his approval.
Looking past Ken; Al grunted “What? You a regenerator?”
Cameron simply replied “Nope – something completely different.”
Ken cut in “Cameron, get some distance.”
“Ken, one thing I’ve learned; bullies love to bark a lot but lack any real teeth.”
“I ain’t no bully like you’ve ever seen before BOY!” shouted the brick around Ken who had tried blocking Al.
“It’s best I give you a warning” resolutely said the much smaller youth.
“I don’t care how fast you heal, you’ll not be waking up till next week, if ever” snarled the man as he flung Ken across the room his body striking the weight lifting bench hard.
Cameron watched Roche amp up his brick field, Cameron took the readiness stance that Ken had showed him, but didn’t flinch as Al telescoped his roundhouse punch towards Cameron’s face – the big man grunting from his exertion, Cameron calculated the force to be roughly 3 tons but it only came to within an inch as his kinetic defence prevented the blow from connecting.
Sir Isaac Newton had expressed what happened next this way 'for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction’, since Cameron had not absorbed the force of the punch it rebounded back into the angry mans right arm: which was still confined by his own PK field. Al’s hand, wrist and forearm bones splintered into small fragments, all of them - up to the elbow, it would have been worse if he wasn’t an exemplar.
Shock etched across the man’s face once realization of the injury he had sustained began to register, his arm hung at a disturbing angle since it had no internal structure to support it.
“I suggest you get that looked at” informed Cameron as he walked over to give Ken a hand. Al used his good arm to hold his injured one against his body and left the gym fast. Cameron could see that Ken had been hurt; his ankle was sprained and he would get some big bruises elsewhere from the rough landing, having Ken sit on the bench Cameron carefully eased his friends pain then began to fix his injuries. Ken limped his first few steps until he convinced himself that he was no longer hurting.
“Shall we see what they have for lunch at the Cafeteria?” asked Cameron.
Ken, Pam, and Cameron shared a table in the Cafeteria, the offerings coming from the kitchen had improved now that more people had started working and living in the Dugout; which Cameron had just suggested as the new name for the bomb shelter. The three had been talking about how SI (Special Investigations) looked to be moving in wholesale to the very secure facility, so far Ray had brought in more support staff along with his ‘Field Operatives’, so including Mike’s people there was nearing twenty occupying the ‘Dungeon’ – the name Pam just proposed.
Mike and Ray entered the dining hall and easily spotted the three and approached, bringing an additional chair to join them.
“Cameron, Ken. Can we have a word?” asked Mike, after sharing a look the two nodded their assent.
“You should stay too Pam” added Ray.
“John got Al to a hospital, the prognosis isn’t good” spoke Ray trying not to involve the entire room in the conversation.
“What happened?” questioned Pam.
“Would you two care to tell us your side of the story” offered Mike.
Ken spoke up “Yes sir, we had been in the Gym, I was helping Cameron improve his co-ordination by teaching him some moves, Al interrupted us and assaulted Cameron, he injured both of us, then when Cameron protected himself, Al was hurt.”
Ray turned to Pam “Smith, I need you to please review surveillance footage from the Gym. We are getting two very different stories” glancing at Cameron “Al wants to press charges”.
Mike added “He is being kept at the hospital, it looks like the doctors will have to amputate the arm. Do you have anything to say Cameron?”
Cameron took a long deep breath and held it as he collected his thoughts “Do you think it right for a person to live without conscience?”
Mike weighted his response before saying “No, I don’t think it would be right.”
“Then I am guilty on two counts: I could have walked away, and I could have healed Al” admitted Cameron, turning to face Ray he added “There are jail cells located down the South corridor, I suggest you arrest me.”
Pam looked aghast, and Mike rocked back in his chair saying “No, no, no”. Ray sat straight and sighed “Ken, please escort Cameron to a cell, then come and fill in a complete report. Pam: those video’s please.” He rose slowly and left with Mike taking off after him – their voices carrying as they went down the hall.
Ken was shaking his head as he stood and showed Cameron the way to the door, Ken did not walk with his normal vigorous stride, instead he seemed to labour with each step “I don’t get it kid, you have every right to charge him with assault” Ken swung the cell door open and motioned Cameron to enter, the lock clicked into place as the door closed.
Leaning against the cold metal bars, Cameron replied “I’ll tell you after you’ve made your statement, if your still interested in hearing it?”
“See you later kid” remarked Ken as he left and slowly walked away.
Ken sat in the chair he’d dragged closer to the bars, he’d finished his account of the incident over an hour ago and the report was officially submitted to Ray, but it took him time to build up the resolve to return and hear the boy out. Ken leaned forward, his hands linked together and his arms resting on his legs, he drew in a breath as he looked with heavy eyes at the boy “Spill.”
Cameron smiled at the reference, he was seated on the rooms cot facing Ken, his hands clasped propping up his head. “Did you ever get bullied as a kid?” he asked.
“No, not really” responded Ken.
“I’ve faced a few; at school – in the neighbourhood. I ran home crying plenty, the worst was when Mom dragged me to a bullies’ house and argued with his parents – lets say I was never able to live that down. Dad talked to me about why bullies act that way, and he tried to show me how to protect myself. Putting it simply: I am not going to be brought down to his level – ever again.
Mystified Ken asked “What do you mean?”
Cameron continued “Al, the MCO, Frankie down the street: none of them. Each bully wants to own you – get the better of you, know they can push you around and get their way. I’m not going to play that game.”
Cameron stopped to check that Ken understood “There’s more, I have to walk on my own two feet now - and I’ve noticed it’s a great big world, plus I have to do it without a safety net. When Al attacked us: you said I was ‘just a kid’ like I had an excuse for playing in the ‘grown-ups’ sandbox. I’m sure you can understand why Al would be concerned that I would be a liability to the team, but there’s no excuse for how he acted.”
Ken mused for a minute “So … what then, your going to let an insufferable jerk win by having you suffer in the cooler.”
“If Al had known there was a camera in the Gym, he wouldn’t have made a bogus claim. He has chosen the tune for himself and will have to dance to the music. But consider this: If I had whined and made a fuss - nobody would look at me with any respect, and all anyone would ever do is treat me just like a kid.” confided Cameron.
Laying on the cot, going over the voice exercises Marcus had taught him, Cameron heard footsteps coming down the hall; turning to look through the walls he saw Mike and Ray coming towards him, Cameron rose to be seated before they reached the cells bars that opened to the hallway.
Upon seeing Cameron, Mike grabbed a cell bar and nearly yelled “Cameron! Come on – get up. You’ve been cleared of any wrong-doing.”
Ray positioned himself stiffly before saying “Smith retrieved the Gym’s video and got the audio from both your and Ken’s communication units. Your free to go.” He waited a second before adding “Al’s claim is unsubstantiated. Did you want to press charges against him?”
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary” answered the boy as he moved closer to the door “How is Al?”
“He’ll be going into surgery tonight … being an exemplar they can’t anesthetize him; he’ll have to watch them take his arm.” informed Ray.
Cameron then asked “Can you get me to the hospital before his operation?”
Mike chipped in “Should only take a couple minutes once we get you out of that cell, you got the key Ray?”
Ray patted his pockets “Ahhh, no actually.”
Cameron looked at the two of them “seriously!” then shaking his head saying “fine” the jail cell door disappeared and he walk through the opening – restoring it once he’d past through it but now it had a key inserted into the lock.
The two men stood motionless for a moment staring at Cameron – both not knowing just what to think right then.
The hospital was not too far away, and en route they drove past Parliament: the first bit of sightseeing Cameron had been able to do in Ottawa. Ray lead the way to Al’s room and he entered first, directing that Cameron and Mike wait outside; their conversation was somewhat vocal.
Cameron moved about the hallway and noticed that a young boy was in the surgery preparation room next door. Since the door was open Cameron knocked before entering quietly saying “Hello?” receiving a ‘hello’ in reply he walked in saying “Hi, I’m Cameron”.
The boy: who Cameron found out was named ‘Timothy’, had been in a car accident, his mother was in the same hospital and couldn’t come see him before he was getting operated on, Cameron scanned the boys’ injuries and saw that his back was badly messed up – hence the traction he was in. Cameron spoke with Timothy for a few minutes explaining that he had spent a lot of time in hospital too and asked if the chocolate pudding here was any good?
Timothy became animated saying that the pudding was by far the best food in the place, he could choke down most of the other stuff on the plate knowing he got pudding afterward. The boys laughed together in agreement over that. Cameron had; during their conversation, been able to repair most of the damage that had been inflicted, he would still be sore while the swelling went down but he would no longer need the surgery and Cameron noted on Timothy’s medical chart that he wouldn’t need to go under the knife.
Mike leaned against the doorframe having watched the interchange, he smiled as Cameron walked by him; both having heard Ray calling for them.
Al was laying in bed, his arm had been prepped, the hair shaved, the skin disinfected, and someone had drawn a dotted line indicating where the amputation was going to be. Al looked at Cameron and gave out a dejected sigh “Have you come to gloat?” he said with a tone of resignation in his voice.
“No Roche, I came to offer to knock you out for your surgery” responded Cameron.
“I … I would be glad if you would” reasoned Al.
“Unconscious or asleep?”
“Will I feel anything if I’m asleep” questioned Al.
“Probably.”
“Unconscious then please.”
“Alright, you’ll be out for a solid eight hours, I’ll let the doctors know” instructed the boy, Cameron then switched off Al’s mind and he slumped down completely unaware of his surroundings.
Ray asked “Shall we go?”
Standing bedside Cameron asked “Give me a minute please” Cameron set about knitting the fragmented bones back together, rebuilding the cartilage, then re-attaching the ligaments.
Al awoke mid morning, having an intense feeling of dread: his world was in shambles because of his arrogance, he knew he should have handled the boy differently – worked with him maybe, get him ready for the rigours of ‘Field’ work, instead he had to be the big-man, try and scare him off.
The most disturbing part was that the kid had even warned him: but he was too proud and stubborn so ignored it. Wincing at the twinge of discomfort, Al remember the Doc’s saying he would feel ‘ghost pain’ afterwards; he just didn’t think it would be so real.
Absently he scratched an itch on his right thigh – then paused for a moment, raising his right arm he held it in view and slowly rotated it looking at his hand, wrist and forearm, he touched it with his left hand and pinched the skin. He let his arms drop as the emotions welled up inside, he let loose a choked laugh as his eyes fought the build up of excess fluid.
July 20, 2007. Ottawa
Cameron, Ken and John Bastain stood at the railing, the overspray left droplets upon their skin – the roar so loud it made speaking difficult.
Leap had taken the newbs on a hop to show them how his teleporting ability worked, it was pretty straight forward; once it had been explained, before John could teleport he needed to be in motion then jump into the air to minimize his contact with anything solid: like the ground, hence his code-name Leap.
John’s ability was proportional in that he alone could ‘port’ great distances, if he carried gear or someone else the distance was reduced, so if he took a lot with him it was short hops or as he called them ‘bounces’. John had just taken Cameron and Ken for a quick look at Niagara Falls which helped demonstrate the action needed to ‘port’ and become familiar with the sensation: Ken didn’t take to it very well and leave it that shall we?
The three stood at the viewpoint watching the huge waterfall when ‘Smith’ contacted them over Com.
“Decimal is up to his tricks; Bossman would like Outlook to meet him” said Pam.
“Location?” asked Leap.
“Downtown Toronto, sending you the co-ordinates. Have fun” quipped Pam.
The three took their practised positions and made the leap.
The alley was unoccupied as the three appeared, it took a couple moments for Ken to get his sea-legs, Cameron guessed something wasn’t on the up and up: “John, who’s Decimal?”
“How does one describe ‘Decimal’” hhmm’d John “he surfaced almost ten years ago, not quiet a superhero – not a villain that we know of either. The MCO hate him something fierce, local folks love him, the police treat him as a nuisance and call us if he makes an appearance.”
“Is he dangerous?” questioned Cameron.
“Best as we can tell: he’s trying to help people, but the MCO tend to trip over themselves trying to catch him - and end up blaming him for their mess” chuckled John.
“Are we trying to capture him?” was Cameron’s next puzzled question.
“Nah, we’d just like to talk with him honestly, he’s one slippery character” added John with an ever-widening smile “Al’s almost caught him twice now”.
“So, see if the kid has better luck?” piped in Ken.
“Something like that” was John’s reply “Smith: any further intel?”
“MCO are in pursuit, passing your position in three” was her instruction.
Looking out the mouth of the alley the three watched as a small man around a foot and a half tall went running past, closely chased by two suited men barely a step behind with their arms stretched out trying to grab him with only their fingertips occasionally skimming him as he taunted them, Cameron nearly blew a gasket at the sight – who knew real life was funnier than cartoons!
Moving out of the alley Cameron watched as the small man dove under a parked car, the MCO agents split up to box him in, when one of the agents knelt down to look under the car Decimal grabbed him – pulling him under the vehicle and wedging him fast “Bob!” called the other agent as he ran over to assist his partner, Decimal tripped him as he rounded the car and quick as a wink he was on the man’s back riding him rodeo style as he fell to the ground, before the agent could react he found his hands secured by zip-ties and his foe blowing a raspberry in his face.
Having watched the shenanigans Cameron applauded, it registered to the tiny man that he had an audience and took a bow.
“Nicely done. Bugs Bunny would be proud” spoke Cameron as he casually sat down on the curb “Would it be okay if we spoke for a minute?”
The man shook his head indicating: no – pointing to the RCMP printed on the boys’ jacket.
“Alright, better amscra before more MCO show up” hinted Cameron, making no move to prevent the man from fleeing on foot.
Ken and John who had kept a distance, walked up to Cameron with uncertain looks, looking up at his companions Cameron asked “Do we have to help the MCO?”
John lent a hand to get Cameron to his feet, and then they freed the stuck and bound agents.
The agent that had been suckered under the car who Cameron gleaned was ’Bob’ started tearing a strip off of the three SI officers for letting Decimal get away, the other was staring questioningly at Cameron until his eyes got real big with a look as if a light bulb just came on.
“Bob, we’re outta here” said the enlightened agent.
His partner scowled at that replying “Dan, I want to put these bozos’ on report”.
“Now!” added Dan as he hooked onto Bobs’ arm and dragging him away.
“That was – interesting” stated John.
“Fascinating! can I say fascinating?” quipped Cameron
“So; why did you let Decimal go?” pondered Ken “You could have just – you know, stopped him!”
“Did either of you spot Decimal’s twin across the street? Or their … okay what do you call a third twin?”
Ken and John looked at each other with amused expressions. “Triplet” chimed Pam over Com.
“Thanks, triplet – riding on top of the bus that went by” continued Cameron “I think I have a lead on Decimal. John – see that office tower, eighth floor, corner window. Can you ‘port’ us in there?” to John’s affirmative reply.
Ken didn’t look happy but joined the leap, the office space they arrived into was vacant, empty except for some furniture that remained from the last tenant, however laying on a desk was a spitting image of Decimal but four feet tall, Cameron kept the others back as suddenly Decimal grew to five feet – then quickly became six feet. The man stirred: moaning then opened his eyes, his shock at seeing three people in what had been his secret space alarmed him, but he was too tired to fight, with a sigh of resignation he said “You caught me, take me in.”
Cameron spied a bottle of water and granola bar in a nearby bag which he retrieved and gave them to the man. Holding out his hand Cameron said “My names Cameron, what would you like us to call you?”
“Crooked nose?” asked the man.
“Yes, well: you can blame the parental units, its’ my name” Cameron explained.
“Rob, call me Rob” said the man reaching up from his prone position to shake the offered hand, Ken and John each introduced themselves and assisted Rob up when he felt he could sit.
“Rob, we are not here to arrest you, the RCMP would just like to talk with you” informed Cameron to prevent the man from panicking or doing something foolish.
“So you’ve said, but first I need to know how you found me?” was Rob’s terms.
“Very well. I could see energy lines linking you to your - other selves, all three pointed to this office. What is your ability called? Multiplier?” commented Cameron.
“Some have described it like that, I basically break off into smaller pieces of myself which spreads my mass between them, so technically I’m a divider” offered Rob sliding off the desk to see if his feet would carry him “I think I can walk, are we going downtown?”
“Think you can hop?” asked John.
Ray and Decimal had a long meeting together back at Ray’s office in the bunker, when finished Rob located the team in the cafeteria to get taken back home by John, before leaving Decimal announced that he would be attending the next RCMP academy class in Regina: Ray had asked him to join the Mounties – with hopes of him being assigned to SI when graduated.
July 25, 2007. Ottawa
The staff had jokingly started a contest to come up with the best name for the bomb shelter that had become headquarters of Special Investigations, the bulletin board in the Cafeteria listed suggestions: ‘The Dungeon’ and the ‘Pit of Despair’ looked to be the front runners but ‘The Shire’ was gaining favour too. Since the shelter had been constructed to house government officials and staffers; there was amply office space at the ready, separate areas had been portioned out between Ray’s team and Mike’s ensemble of lawyers.
Overall Cameron was glad there was company now, but the constant demand for his attention was beginning to be a burden, and it had worn him down, he was spending the morning in his room doing school work on his laptop when Smith knocked on the partially opened door.
“Hi Cameron, are you alright?” asked the gadgeteer sticking her head into the room.
“Yeah, fine! just been working on school stuff” replied Cameron not looking up from the screen “something I can help you with?”
“Mike’s been looking for you, you’re not on Com.” chided his teammate.
“We’ll it’s not like I’d be anywhere else than here” noted the tired teen pointing to the drab surroundings.
“They do have you on a short leash don’t they” sympathized Pam, pausing a moment before adding “Mike needs you in Cabinet.”
Cameron walked the hallways towards the now familiar meeting room, looking inside before opening the door, within sat Ray and Mike with six people Cameron didn’t know, two of them mutants. Knocking on the door as he swung it open Cameron stepped inside and greeted Mike and Ray.
“Cameron; please come in” responded Mike “The MCO is claiming that the trial should be dismissed because you’d be influencing proceedings by using paranormal powers, these folks are here to interview you and conduct some testing to determine if you’re Psychic.”
“Let me guess: all previous test results are disputed - and these new tests shall be administered by the MCO” asked Cameron receiving an affirmative nod from Mike “Do we have a means to ensure the results don’t reflect their bias?”
“Dr. Carpenter here” motioned Mike to the man setting up equipment “is from Arkham. He will record this interview (Cameron visibly cringed at the use of the word) and will provide the final summary to the legal panel for assessment. The others are: Ms. Newcomb, Mr. Pascal – both psychics, and Mrs. Orson - a wizard, they work for the MCO. Next are: Wanderer and Starling, independent psychics that have agreed to be impartial third party observers.”
Cameron sized up the panel, who was each returning the favour, Cameron however spotted a number of unusual objects the MCO contingent had brought to do testing with. He had no doubt that this was going to be a scam, seeing an opportunity to mess with the MCO Cameron asked “When do we begin?”
Ms. Newcomb placed on the table between them a deck of cards and a shuffling device, “This is a standard psychic test, the cards have four patterns: square, circle, triangle, wavy line” as she showed Cameron what each card looked like from the deck she held. “Tell us what the next card will be. The dealing machine will deal out the cards so I don’t influence the outcome. Fair?” Cameron nodded agreement.
Cameron looked at the little machine and dove into it’s inner workings, it held a little something more, snuck into it was a printer head so each card would be printed to match whatever was instructed: Cameron traced the wiring to a voice processor and a wireless connection. An idea came to mind. “Is anything needed before we begin? Do you need to shuffle the deck?
Ms. Newcomb checked the machine, a green light indicated it was set “Please proceed.”
Cameron took a moment, his finger tapping his lips to indicate thinking deeply “A circle” stated Cameron and the machine spat out a card, turning it over Ms. Newcomb revealed the circle, Mr. Pascal smiled that the trap had been set.
Cameron understood that the machine had been keyed to his voice, so next said “wavy square.”
“That’s not one of the patterns” protested Ms. Newcomb.
“But I’m certain that’s the next card” said Cameron reaching over to turn the card that the dealer dispensed.
“Don’t touch it” demanded Ms. Newcomb.
“Then, please, show us the card” requested Cameron.
Ms. Newcomb flipped the card to show the wavy square.
Cameron pondered for a second then announced “Now I’m seeing – a blank card.”
Ms. Newcomb refused to turn the card so Wanderer took over, sure enough he showed everyone the blank card.
“How about a duck on a wavy line” questioned Cameron.
Wanderer who sat closest; turned the card to show exactly what Cameron had said, a duck sitting above the wavy line. Mike and Ray glanced at each other with masked smiles.
“Anything you’d like to see Dr. Carpenter?”
“Try an Octopus” said the man.
“Good one. Next card is an Octopus inside a square” called out Cameron.
Wanderer simply flipped the card; letting everyone see the stylized Octopus sitting inside a square.
Cameron hadn’t been able to determine what made Wanderer special yet but he had an energy field so must be a mutant. Wanderer had opened up the dealing machine and pulled out the stack of cards ready to be printed and showed it to Dr. Carpenter then around the table.
“I think this test has been rather informative” stated Starling “Who wants to be next?”
Mrs. Olsen handed Cameron a crystal shard almost six inches long, instructing him that it sensed magic, Cameron was to hold it for a five minutes to get it attuned then the test could begin, Cameron immediately saw the wiring inside that connected a light to a battery, it also had a switch that was triggered remotely, looking at his ‘testers’ he saw the trigger in Mr. Pascal’s palm. Cameron drained the battery then waited for the five minutes to end. Starling was watching him very closely – it was a touch unnerving to just have her stare, she had the same signature as Rachelle but with a difference so Cameron guessed a type of psychic.
Mrs. Olsen checked her watch “Good, times up. Now focus on the crystal, try and make it glow.”
Cameron looked at her curiously “How do you make a crystal glow?”
“It reads your essence, the stronger your essence the brighter it will glow, just focus upon the crystal and it does the rest.”
“If you say so!” Cameron held the crystal up near his face and stared, he noticed Mr. Pascal frantically pressing the trigger, but Cameron continued to hold the crystal and made strained facial expressions as if trying to force it to work.
“It’s broken” muttered Mr. Pascal.
Lowering the crystal Cameron asked “How can you break a crystal?” Handing it back to Mrs. Olsen he suggested “Here, you give it a try”.
Taking the offered crystal, she held it up and looked into the opaque interior. Cameron sent a slight touch of energy to the light inside and it flashed dimly then grew to a small intensity making the crystal glow. Mrs. Olsen had a surprised look but handed the crystal back to Cameron as directed by Mr. Pascal with her adding “Seems to work fine”.
Cameron took the crystal back from Mrs. Olsen, during the transfer it had gone dark again, Cameron held it for a minute rotating it slowly with nothing happening, quickly Cameron tossed the crystal “Here Mr. Pascal, you try” the man reacted instinctively and caught the object thrown at him, once in his hands Cameron flashed the light and the crystal glowed brightly – far brighter than it had in Mrs. Olsen’s hands.
“Why Mr. Pascal, you told us you were a Psychic” commented Cameron.
Mr. Pascal grumbled as he put down the crystal “Dr. Carpenter, I propose we have the subject perform your new polygraph test.”
“Quite right, I’ll just need a couple minutes to set it up” agreed the Arkham representative.
Arkham’s polygraph was a new spin on the old take; it still relied upon how a body reacts to lying such as tensed muscles and pulse rises, the new was that it checked subject temperature, chemical responses, and electrical impulses in the brain. The improvements increased effectiveness to almost 100%, although it was still in development.
Cameron would only agree to undergo the polygraph on condition that one of the MCO testers would as well. Mr. Pascal took him up on his condition.
Dr. Carpenter needed to secure Cameron to a chair: his arms, legs and torso had to be bound with restraints to keep him from moving as it might skew the results, Cameron considered his position for a moment, how that he would be helpless, so took protective measures. Dr. Carpenter finished his preparations and sat near to Cameron.
“I will ask you a couple questions to ensure the calibration is correct, then the questions everyone has agreed to after that. First: Is your name Alexis Cameron Burke?”
“Yes” Dr. Carpenter checked the machines output.
“Now lie to me: Are you playing hockey?”
“Yes” The machine made some ticking sounds.
“Good, now: Are you taking a polygraph test?
“Yes.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“No.”
“Are you a Mutant?”
“No.”
“Are you lying about being a Mutant?”
“No.”
“Are you Psychic?”
“No.”
“Are you lying about being psychic?”
“No.”
“You are not a Mage?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying about being a Mage?”
“No.”
Dr. Carpenter asked questions over the next half hour, however when the question about being a boy and his age the machine gave readings that indicated lying. Cameron calmly explained that the questions as asked couldn’t be answered to satisfy the machine: he was both 13 and 21 years old, as well he had been born a girl and was now a boy. Dr. Carpenter asked his questions again to be more specific and the results reflected a truthful response.
Cameron had kept an eye on the MCO testers, each had been struggled to get out of their chairs, but found their clothing was bonded to the chair along with the chair secured to the floor, all they could do was sit through the testing. The glances they gave each other spoke of frustration and worry.
Cameron was released from the test chair and it was offered to Mr. Pascal. The man was furious and refused to submit to the test: Ray in a less than gentle manner assisted him into the polygraph chair to then be strapped in and held down as the doctor hooked up his machine.
Once secured Ray released the man who was ready to spit nails.
Cameron turned to the doctor “Now Doctor, I wanted this next testing to demonstrate something that could become an issue and get challenged in court. You may benefit as well to build confidence in your polygraph as an effective instrument to determine truthfulness. I happen to have the ability to impel a person to tell the truth - even against their will. I hope you don’t mind being part of an experiment to illustrate the effect”
Dr. Carpenter delighted in the proposed tests, and readied the machine, Wanderer asked how Cameron was able to force the truth from someone “It appears that the light from my eyes hits the optic nerve in such a way that a person cannot excuse what is true – nor can they suppress speaking that answer.” Cameron added “I have been building light fixtures to mimic that effect, maybe Dr. Carpenter would like to examine those another time?”
Cameron sat across the table from Mr. Pascal keeping his visor in place, he began to ask the man questions:
“Is your name Pascal?”
“Yes.” The machine fluttered.
“Are you lying about your name being Pascal?”
“No.” again the machine baulked.
“Do you want out of that chair?”
“Yes” the machine was quiet.
“Doctor do you have what you need to calibrate the machine?” The man nodded “Good, lets get this started then” stated Cameron removing his eyewear; looking at the man “Are you using an alias to hid your identity?”
“Yes”.
“Do you work for the MCO?”
“Yes”.
“Did the MCO send you to discredit me?”
“Yes, they want the trial stopped”.
“Did you come here with rigged tests?”
“Yes, the cards, the crystal, and another we didn’t try”.
“Are any of you actually physics or wizards as you claimed to be?”
“No, none of us have abilities.”
“If you failed to discredit me; had you been instructed to kill me?”
“Yes, we were trying to bluff our way until an opportunity rose, you being fastened in the chair was when we would make our move.”
“Did you attempt to kill me while I was restrained in the chair?”
“Yes, we couldn’t get out of our seats to attack.”
“Are you in any pain?”
“No.”
“Do you feel like you’re being tortured?”
“No, I don’t want to tell you these things, but cannot stop myself.”
“Have you ever killed an innocent person because they were a Mutant?”
“Yes, twice.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“Yes. Ramone Valdez, and Paul Fullerton.”
“Have you lied to any of these questions?”
“No.”
“I have no further questions for Mr. Pascal, and unless Dr. Carpenter objects; I suggest he be arrested under suspicion of murder. Also, please check his shoes – he has six blades in the soles and monofilament wire in his belt” then pointing to Mrs. Olsen “her necklace is a garrote and her fingernails are poison dipped” next to Ms. Newcomb “she has razor edged cards in her deck and a small pistol in the hollow of her bra. I can interview them later if the Boss wishes.” Turning his attention away from the three stunned MCO representatives - who now had police officers beginning the process of arresting them, he asked the Arkham representative “Doctor, do you have other tests you want to conduct?”
Dr. Carpenter boggled, he had just witnessed a man confess to two murders and an attempted assassination, however, he still needed to ask “but the polygraph confirmed you are not a mutant?”
“And I am not” supplied Cameron.
“Then how did you just…?” questioned the scientist motioning to his equipment and the three being arrested.
“That might have been a good question to have asked while I was connected to your machine Doctor. But I did answer all the questions asked of me: truthfully and respectfully.” Turning attention to the two observers bringing them into the conversation, Cameron asked them “Is there anything you might be needing in-order to complete your assessment?”
Starling had hardly taken her eyes off Cameron during the entire ‘interview’, she now spoke up “You have impressive blocks to keep psychics out, would you let me in – it’s the only way I can be certain of your claim.”
“I need you to promise that you will do me no harm.”
“I so promise.”
Cameron got comfortable in a chair and made an opening for Starling.
Starling walked around the tall white walls, she had walked the entire circumference several times already, but now a small doorway appeared which was being held open for her. As Starling accepted the invitation she found herself standing in a great circular entranceway, her host guided her into a parlour and was shown to a seat, before her was placed a hot cup of tea and a tray with delightful looking sweets.
“You need to try the brownie’s; they’re my Gramma’s recipe” said Cameron as she offered the plate to her guest.
“You are not the same – as who you are out-there?” taking one of the offered squares from the young girl and tasting it, nodding appreciatively.
“This is me, who I think of myself as, maybe in time I will see myself differently.”
“Is this why you hide behind a wall?”
“Out-there, you wear clothes don’t you?”
“Certainly.”
“And you’re wearing clothes mentally to, do you actually need them to keep warm here? or is it your personal preference?
“I see what you mean, mentally you still see yourself as female … and you prefer a wall to keep a separation – I would guess you’re an introvert!”
“Joan my psychologist said the same thing, that I need alone time to gather my thoughts. A wall lets me be private while still being around people.”
“And you have learned to make it into a formidable defence.”
“It became necessary and I had help from a good friend. But – what do you need, how do you know if someone is psychic?”
“I knew you weren’t one once I saw your entrance, a psychic’s mind looks more like a communication hub – ever seen pictures of the old telephone switchboards? That is the best way to describe it.”
The two had a cordial tea, then Cameron escorted Starling out, and resealed the wall.
Dr. Carpenter was in the process of packing up his equipment, Ray and Mike had been talking to Wanderer when Starling and Cameron re-joined them, the two had only been ‘away’ for a short time but they had talked for nearly twenty minutes. Wanderer desired to know about the card trick – how Cameron knew it was a fraud, so Cameron dis-assembled the clever little machine to show him the built-in printer, Ray commented “that’s the first time I’ve ever seen where the house doesn’t win.”
Cameron gave the scientist a hand with his gear and asked “I hope you have enough information to make your report” shaking the Doctors hand in thanks.
“That and more” said the man with wide eyes nodding his head in amazement “I have to ask; The boys in the lab would plotz if you came to us for testing?”
“I think not Doctor, but if I change my mind I’ll give you a call. Thank you.” commented Cameron as he left the room.
Cameron was sitting on his bed reading one of the books Mike had given him when Ray knocked on the door. “You enjoyed messing with the MCO today, didn’t you?”
“How often do you get to torment your tormentors?” sassed the boy.
“True, true. Those three will be behind bars for the foreseeable future” added Ray with a nod of appreciation.
“Seems only fair” posed Cameron.
“Smith told me your getting a case of cabin fever” asked Ray stepping deeper into Cameron’s bedroom, looking around the small quarters with bare walls and no amenities.
“I suppose the décor is wearing a little thin on my nerves” sighed Cameron with a sweeping gesture at the drab grey / green walls.
“I would imagine so, a bit Spartan for my tastes, but you’re the only one of us that actually lives here – we all get to go home. Do you have a home?” sympathized the Boss.
“Mom always said ‘Home is where the heart is’, I don’t think mine has settled into one yet” confided the youth hanging his head low.
“No family?” questioned Ray.
“No sir, all gone. I still had a grandmother alive after the accident, but she died while I was in a coma. Turns out she left me the family homestead back in BC in hopes I would recover - but I’m not ready to return there. Can’t deal with the memories just yet.” supplied Cameron..
“Understandably, it must be hard to wake up one day and ‘poof’ its 8 years into the future” pondered Ray
“I’m coping … it’s just that sometimes I feel so out of touch; I have more in common with people twice my age, I simply don’t ‘get’ most cultural references, I’ve missed out on movies and music, what I knew as being new is now ancient history, and what’s now new I can’t see well enough to figure out.” After a moment continued “Fitting in with kids my own ‘age’ is the worst: we’re on different pages and I feel like an outcast, of course the whole gender thing isn’t a cake walk either” said Cameron after giving the points consideration.
“You have every reason to be angry” reasoned Ray.
“It isn’t anger, frustration perhaps. I don’t get why the MCO blames me when none of this is my fault – I didn’t ask for any of it” whined Cameron getting upset.
“You didn’t, and its unfair, the issue is: it’s the hand you’ve been dealt, do you sink or swim” comforted Ray.
‘You do realize that when you mix up your metaphors like that it gets hard to follow” teased Cameron.
“It’s how I make sure people are paying attention” joked the man.
“Well, everyone says ‘the boss is always right’. I choose to swim, its why I’m going to court” Cameron said resolutely.
“I thought as much.” reasoned Ray “Cameron, if you need some quiet time - close your door and turn off Com from now on, I’ll let personnel know that you deserve privacy. And I promise I will make a schedule for you so we don’t just drop stuff on you unannounced like what happened today.” Moving to the door he turned and added “I’m also assigning you an office.” offered Ray.
“Thanks Bossman, I appreciate it” said Cameron as a smile grew onto his face.
July 28, 2007. Ottawa
Smith’s call on Com alerted the team that they had a situation developing, a newly manifested mutant was creating a stir in Quebec City. Ray had the team gather to be briefed and brainstorm, the MCO had the girl cornered in a warehouse, SI’s info was coming from local police. Bossman asked Smith to call up a map that he took great interest in. “Outlook, have you had your fill of tormenting folks this month or are you game for more?”
“What have you got?” questioned Cameron.
“The warehouse is on federal land, we have jurisdiction: Leap, Outlook and Ken on point, Roche prep a containment plan and be ready to jump. Smith scramble and cover – usual protocol.
“Aye Boss” the team called out as they dispersed.
John brought them into a spot within ear shot of the MCO command post, Ken had been itching to be the thorn so he took lead in handling the MCO, Cameron had to turn and hid his smirk when the senior agent erupted at the news the RCMP was taking over: French is such a colourful language, full of emotion.
Cameron and Ken approached the side door to the warehouse, Cameron looked around and found the door barricaded, the girl was facing the main entrance certain that any danger would come from the bay doors ahead of her. “Door is barricaded, debris placed in front and welded fast, I’m guessing an energizer with extra strength given the weight of the debris.”
“Rodger. Need Roche to come knock?” questioned Smith.
“Roche best watch our backsides, the MCO is restless and making plans to enter, so Leap: if you don’t mind making a delivery please. Ken stick close you’ll need to translate”.
Cameron found a concealed point to make an opening in the wall, he and Ken entered quietly finding that the girl had tried to make a defendable position. Cameron watched her for a moment: she had been crying, obviously scared, yet she stood in defiance ready to fight, she was big: six and a half feet tall (why’s everyone get tall but me he thought) as they took cover behind a stack of tires.
“Confront and confide” spoke Cameron, Ken questioned his call but agreed when Cameron showed him two things: the stuffed plushie at her feet, and the scorch marks on her too small jacket.
Cameron asked Ken to translate what he said and keep his head down, Cameron moved into the girls’ view with his hands held in front taking a non threatening stance.
“Hello Miss, I am not here to hurt you, my name is Cameron” Cameron spoke slowly so Ken could repeat each word in French.
The girl reeled in surprise, her adrenaline was so torqued up that she fired a blast which shot from her right hand, the high voltage discharge moved like fragmented red lightning striking Cameron just above his heart. Shock tore her features; in part because Cameron remained standing, but mostly due to her not having wanted to send that bolt. She stood with her hands glowing a fiery red and sobbed, raising her hands to her face but thought better of it and tried to wipe her tears with her sleeves instead.
“Please, let me help you” spoke Cameron hoping to sooth the stressed girl.
”You are one with the goons – these mutant haters”.
“We are with the GRC, we’re keeping them from attacking.”
“And why is your friend hiding, he is wanting to shoot me?”
“He is not as resilient as I am, and I make a better first impression” the girl giggled at that admission; Cameron wasn’t sure just what Ken had said. “My friend showed me how her energizer ability works, it might help get yours under control too”.
The girl was undecided, but the stiffness in her movement indicated an injury. Cameron dove into her anatomy, she had bullet holes on her left side – it appears she cauterized the wounds to stop the bleeding, but she was still bleeding internally from the damage, even more concerning was her temperature: it was way above normal. “How long ago did you manifest?”
“This morning”.
“You might be going into burnout, please let me help.”
“No, you seek to trick me”.
Cameron spotted two MCO agents that slipped in thru the opening he had made, they rushed to get a firing position on the girl, their demeanour showed no interest in anything other than taking the girl down which meant taking her out: on a slab. Cameron scrambled their neurons and they slumped onto the floor in an unmoving heap.
The frightened girl asked “How?” having seen the men fall down.
“It’s what I could have done to you, but like I said – I’m here to help. My names Cameron.”
“R.E.D.”
“Your code name?”
“My initials, what I want people to call me”.
“Okay R.E.D., may I see about getting your hands under control?”
At her nod Cameron approached, he gently reached out to hold her hands – she pulled away at first; scared that she might burn him, but did slowly present her hands for Cameron to touch. Cameron could see R.E.D.’s massive energy reserve which he tried to draw off but it only had a minor effect by reduced the glow of her hands slightly, he also saw that panic was driving her metabolism into a frenzy – he feared it would escalate into burnout.
“R.E.D., you need to try and be calm, your power is linked to your emotions: focus on happier thoughts, your also very warm - I need to try and cool you down.”
Again she nodded.
Leap spoke over Com “Outlook, the locals are kicking up a stink, Roche has them at bay - but not for much longer.”
“Ken, can you come out please and keep watch. Smith; find us a Doctor.”
“Smith?” asked Red without need of a translation.
“Another friend, on the radio”.
Smith called back “I have a friendly in Montreal”.
“Give them a heads up, explain her condition. Roche you’re going to have to carry her – shield yourself: she’s a hot one. Leap get the co-ordinates. Ken and I will stick around and watch the fireworks” turning to R.E.D. “We have to get you to a Doctor. Right now!” Cameron reached down and picked up her stuffy, pointing to it he said “We are your friends, we’re going to make sure you’re okay” then placed the toy inside her jacket “Friends are going to take care of you.”
Roche was running fast after having busted through a side delivery door, he scooped the girl up at speed to which she let out a squeal, Roche then veered towards Leap and they both jumped into the air in mid stride vanishing.
“You have to admit, that looks impressive” confided Cameron.
“Sure. Better them than me, I haven’t been able to eat carrots for a week” confessed Ken.
The MCO began to enter piecemeal into the warehouse, Cameron and Ken watched them come. All the while Cameron was softly singing
“Carrots are divine, you get a dozen for a dime, their magic” in his best Bugs Bunny voice.
Ken mocked him “That’s cruel”.
“Say Smith; could I get a confirmation on what made R.E.D. laugh” asked Cameron over Com.
“It works out roughly as ‘I’m the sacrificial stick, and he’s too handsome to let be hurt’” she deadpanned.
“It worked, didn’t it?” defended Ken.
Smith pipped “It’s good to finally have a code name for you: GQ”.
“Nobody said anything about the abuse when I signed up” remarked Ken / GQ (Gentlemen’s Quarterly).
The MCO had found their unresponsive men and came towards Ken and Cameron bursting with murderous intent.
“Where is she, she has killed two men” said the head agent his hands a wild flurry of gestures. Cameron released his neural interference on both of the downed agents and they stirred flopping about like landed fish.
“Which two men?” asked Ken looking about.
The man’s flushed face was gratifying, as he watched his two agents “They have been mortally wounded.”
Cameron mic’d on Com “tis but a scratch”. Smith’s end was quiet, and full marks to Ken as he kept a stiff upper lip.
Ken pointed at the men who had started to stand “It does look serious, have you notified their families?”
The man’s ire couldn’t be contained “You will hand the girl over to us now!” he screamed.
“As you can see, she is not here, we have taken her for medical attention, she has gone into burnout” informed Ken.
As was mentioned before: French is such an expressive language, their cursing is almost reverential.
“Then we take you in for interfering with the MCO, for certainty this one is a mutant” pointing at Cameron “bind him” directed the head MCO agent.
“If you touch either of us you will be obstructing a GRC investigation. I am Constable Tallman and this is Sergeant Burke” both slowly produced their RCMP identification and badges.
“Pffht” he sounded in disgust “And your MID!” demanded the man of Cameron.
“I don’t have one ...” responded Cameron only to be quickly cut off.
“Then I arrest you for failing to show the MID” delighted the agent at having scored a point.
“I don’t have an MID because I’m not a mutant” finished Cameron.
“Impossible, you must be taken for questioning” dictated the anguished man.
“Or; you can call the number on this card” which Cameron presented to the man; presenting it for him between two fingers.
Looking at the card “Some kind of hoax not doubt” he muttered as he turned it over inspecting it. He dialed the number printed on it and after following the prompts he spoke with someone, his expression soured which was quite remarkable considering he already looked like he’d been sucking lemons. Handing the card back to Cameron he spoke through clenched teeth “Leave”.
Ken had Cameron walk ahead of him as they exited the building, Smith pipped “Outlook, Leap is inbound, meet at your original arrival site. R.E.D. needs your help to get stabilized.”
The medical center R.E.D. had been taken to was small but well equipped, it was a private practise with a good surgery. R.E.D. had been placed into a tub filled with ice water, between her burnout and the hot hands it was difficult to keep the water cool enough to do what was needed. The scar tissue over the bullet wounds had cracked allowing blood to discolour the pool. Cameron at first just tried to slow the waters molecules down, but observing the girl he saw that the injury was pushing the burnout which drove the angst making her charge up. Cameron decided to focus instead upon the gunshot wound, the single bullet had gone completely through – but its exit wound was like an explosion when it left and blew much tissue outward, Cameron worked slowly and methodically rebuilding the damaged flesh, the bullets passage had nicked a kidney causing a lot of bleeding.
When Cameron finished minutes later he explained to the Doctor what he had done and why, they continued to watch her temperature which had at least begun to stabilize, Cameron monitored her spark as it slowly declining as her pain ebbed. The Doctor observed that she was still stressed – so Cameron in desperation drained her built up charge and put her into a deep sleep by spiking her dopamine level. Cameron left the surgery and found Roche sitting in the waiting area. Cameron plopped down tired beside the unflinching man.
“Is she going to make it?” Roche asked.
“The Doc says if the heat is kept down long enough, the burnout flare will pass” answered Cameron.
“She cried on my shoulder, as I brought her in, she cried on my shoulder” mentioned Al.
“She was upset and scared” consoled Cameron.
“She wouldn’t let me leave, I had to hold her hand” continued Al.
“I saw you in the room with her; she needed your help” added Cameron.
“I – I’m the guy that makes people cry… She cried on me.” said Al almost in shock himself.
“I’m going to stick around; see how she is when she wakes up. You can head back” comforted Cameron.
“I’d like to stay” was all the Brick said in response.
Cameron reached over to pat his knee for reassurance, he let Cameron actually touch him, Cameron gave him a small but heartfelt smile, the two sat together silently into nightfall.
August 20, 2007. Ottawa
Mike and Karen had made coaching Cameron through the formalities of the courtroom a number one priority, they wanted to prepare him for the anticipated antagonism and verbal assaults that the defence would employ. Cameron had been taken to a tailor and been fitted for suits to make a good impression, now Karen had the unenviable task of creating the right image for presentation to the courtroom, plus teaching him how to tie a tie: whoever came up with the idea of making someone wear a ready-made noose has a strange notion about fashion.
Karen commented that he cleaned up well but when Smith came in asking for Cameron: looked around, and left without recognizing him, it kinda blew his self confidence.
Mike had described court proceedings to be like a game of chess, there are rules that had to be followed and certain steps to take, with the judge being a referee that can call ‘out of bound’ fouls. When Cameron mentioned to Mike that he had been hanging around Ray too much since his metaphors were slipping, Mike simple said ‘keeps em guessing’.
They wanted Cameron front and center: as a constant reminder and focal point, he needed to look respectable and respectful, if they could keep the wrongs that had been done in front of their faces – it would help ensure a win. It sounded like those wrestling matches Granny had liked to watch – define the lines between right and wrong.
Cameron stood with dwindling patience wrapping the length of cloth around his neck hoping to arrive at a semblance of a proper tie, Ray walked by and noticed Cameron’s dilemma “I’ve lost track of how many times women have said ‘men have it easy by only having to wear suits’, but honestly, Rocket Science is easy compared to tying a tie, especially when your nervous. Let me help – I only know one knot but I’ve managed so far in life with it.”
Cameron lowered his collar and straightened the tie, “Thanks Boss”.
“Aren’t you taking your glasses?”
“Mike doesn’t want me to, something about throwing them off their game.”
“It’ll make it interesting.”
“I think that’s exactly what Mike is aiming for”.
August 24, 2007. Ottawa
Four days of being poked at with a stick by the MCO lawyers had resulted in Cameron letting his thoughts wander.
In the days of the Klondike gold rush, at a location just outside Skagway Alaska, the reporters waxed poetic tales about the riches and adventure that awaited anyone with a goldpan – sadly maybe one in a couple thousand found anything at all, hence why the camp the journalists stayed in was called Liarsville, the next time Cameron came across a TV show that put court in a positive light he was going to toss a brick at the silly thing.
Cameron had already put up with daily torturous debate over how worthless a person he was: mutant or not, each reference to him was made as an insult, he was infuriated, it felt demeaning to just be sitting there listening to the blowhards spout off – the opposing lawyers took perverse pleasure in highlighting Cameron’s freakish nature: objecting to his very presence in the room and his uncovered eyes drew seething animosity.
Cameron held tightly to Opus: the only one in the room who could get away with wearing tartan (visibly). Then something interesting happened, Mike took to the floor and thanked the MCO for proving a point he would not have been able to convincingly make otherwise - Cameron indeed was not normal, obviously he was not a healthy 21-year-old woman, and he also wasn’t surrounded by a loving family either, all of which was the MCO’s fault! The trial was not about what Cameron was – but what he was not.
The judges used the stunned silence as an opportune time to adjourn for the weekend with the gavels bang sounding the days’ end. The MCO posse exited with dour faces realizing they had been suckered into having done the prosecutions job, worse still they would have a very big hole to dig themselves out of – one they had put much effort into making. Karen was certain they would be doing big damage control over the weekend involving long hours, and would be testy when they returned Monday.
A lone reporter had stayed behind and approached the table Cameron had remained seated at, as Cindi introduced herself to Mike and Karen, she asked Cameron how he had been doing since their interview alongside the highway, the discussion moved to a discrete little café and under Mike and Karen’s watchful eye he provided further details of the MCO’s antics. She questioned them about when releasing the interview for broadcast would be agreeable, Mike took great interest in establishing a timetable and the date was set.
August 25, 2007. Ottawa
There was a time when Saturday mornings were all about sitting in front of the tube watching cartoons and eating cereal – or as Mom called them ‘chocolate frosted sugar bombs’, Cameron never found that box! but they sure sounded great. Most people had the weekend off so the bomb shelter was quiet which made the alarms claxon sounding off that much more unhinging. Cameron scrambled to don his RCMP shirt and jacket then dashed to the command room, the team trickled in with Leap delivering someone and then be off to collect the next. Ray was second to arrive behind Smith, they had been gathering intel together when Leap brought in Roche.
The briefing everyone received detailed what was known about a group of thieves / terrorists holed up in a shopping center in Windsor Ontario, they had taken hostages when the robbery had gone south, SI was called up because it was reported that some in the group had shown powers. Mall security had been evacuating the patrons and local police had cordoned the area off. Bad news (if what they had just heard wasn’t already bad) The ‘Knights of Purity’ were onsite as a stop on a ‘good-will tour’ sponsored by Humanity First.
Ray gave out the assignments putting Roche on point, “Boss, give the kid point – he has better eyes than me” suggested Roche. Leap needed to make multiple bounces to get two people to Windsor at a time: Cameron and Ken went first, Roche and Smith arrived within minutes – Smith went to connect into the Mall’s security system. Cameron and Ken liaised with the local forces and found the ‘Knights’ had offered their services to assist, the locals hadn’t committed to their offer yet; instead saying the RCMP would call the shots, Ken officially declined their help.
Cameron was brought in to scout out the mall interior by a burly security guard near to where the group held the hostages, from their hiding point he carefully examined the situation then returned to the others.
“This doesn’t add up” Cameron said over Com “Seven robbers, armed and wearing bulletproof vests, none have a signature – so I’d say nobody has powers. Three women hostages which are not bound or guarded, and are acting real cozy with their captors, each ‘hostage’ has small arms hidden on them. They are positioned in an atrium at the intersection of three corridors. There are no banks or jewelry stores in that section of the mall.”
Leap asked “Your assessment?”
“Pretty sure it’s a trap”
“Do we walk?”
“The question is: who’s the trap for – and why? I say we spring it! Boss; what’s the word?” commented Cameron
“High alert everyone, Smith capture every angle – lets see if we can trap the trappers, your game Cameron” directed Ray
Cameron detailed how the ‘robbers’ had positioned themselves and what weapons they had, then set about describing how he felt this would play out, giving each team member a role.
Both Leap and Roche supplied ideas and pointers to support the plan, and once Smith gave a ready signal over Com a collective agreement split the team up.
Ken gave the locals a modified briefing of what SI was going to do and stayed to explain what was happening. Roche circled to the corridor to the left of the group and took position, Leap did the same in the right corridor. Cameron donned a bulletproof vest and Swat helmet before entering the mall’s main entrance and walked down the hallway towards the group, he watched them closely, how they reacted when they saw someone coming – two pointed their guns at the so-called hostages who had taken a seat on the floor.
Cameron called out “RCMP. I’m here to negotiate for the release of the hostages” a spotter gave a signal and two of the group approached, they searched Cameron and found nothing, he was taken into the groups middle and he asked “What are your demands? Money? An escape route?”
The leader sized up Cameron and just said “You!”. The stunner that was fired at Cameron ricocheted off his kinetic field and contacted one of the gun carriers, his spasm looked painful. A shock stick was jabbed at Cameron with the arc of electricity just fading away as the charge died not even having touched the boy, it gave a pitiful beep indicating it was out of juice. The leader grabbed one of his hostages and used them as a human shield pointing a pistol at her head.
“So” questioned Cameron “what has the bounty risen to now?”
“On the floor, spread eagle” shouted the man “Now! or I kill the girl”
“It would be gratifying if they would at least give you guys a warning about me, you’d think they’d have learned something by now!” at that Cameron shorted out all the ‘crooks’ motor functions, post events review showed how they fell over just like bowling pins, Cameron starting to walk around between them; gathering up the assorted guns then throwing the weapons into the water fountain at the atriums center, he hadn’t gotten far when two of the hostages approached pulling pistols and began firing at Cameron – the third was busy calling on a walkie-talkie. Cameron’s energy absorbing ability prevented the bullets from impacting, but a few stray shots smashed store fronts or lodged into walls.
Cameron ‘tsk’d’: “Interesting way you have of showing gratitude for being rescued” Ken’s message over Com alerted Cameron to a KoP drop ship positioning overtop the mall, so he stunned the false hostages letting them sprawl onto the floor unconscious.
Time for act two.
The ‘Knights of Purity’s’ shortstop was the opener, he’d entered the mall following Cameron’s route and was building up speed as he ran down the hallway, Cameron was tending to the fallen; putting them into comfortable positions and disposing of the guns, Cameron was braced but still the impact from the much heavier shortstop ramming into him sent the boy flying across the atrium into a planter box, he tucked and rolled as he’d learned in his lessons, but just knew he’d be feeling that in the morning.
The shortstop struck a poise of superiority with his hands on his hips and laughed, his team came crashing through the atriums skylight being lowered from rappel lines from above. Cameron stood: taking out his badge and holding it forward “RCMP, stand down, we have the situation under control”. The Knights paid no heed – although a couple scoffed, they unhooked the heavy cable lanyards that had brought them down except for the Catcher who remained tethered, the Knights swarmed around Cameron.
The pitcher spoke through an amplifier “Surrender peacefully.”
Cameron sized him up, the suit was a mechanical exoskeleton which was remotely powered via a carrier wave coming from above, the suit had an awful looking paint job – even to someone technically blind, inside was a man in his mid forties manipulating the rig, he was the same man that had been out front when told their help was not needed.
“You are violating Canadian sovereignty and interfering with the RCMP, again – stand down.”
The Pitchers amplified laugh echoed around the empty mall “We answer to a higher authority than you boy” he fired a projectile that; as it deployed, spread out into netting – it’s webbing crackled with energy. “We came to collect you – they didn’t object with dead if you resist. Please resist.” The net encircled Cameron; wrapping him up tight when the stunner charge burst making the netting flash, Cameron wasn’t impressed and his ‘seriously’ comment as the netting simply vanished made the ‘Knights’ reposition.
The teams Batter moved closer taking a swing with a metal bat almost eight feet long aimed at Cameron’s head, the bat never connected instead Cameron took the inertia and returned it with additional force directing it into the power suits midsection resulting in the Batter being flung down the East corridor “Roche; piñata coming your way” spoke Cameron into Com.
The Pitcher tossed another canister which began spewing a noxious grey smoke, Cameron stopped the smoke bomb in mid flight with it vanishing, a second later tinkling could be heard inside the Pitcher’s frame: he was coughing and gasping as smoke worked its way out of the openings in his suit – he popped a latch making the entry hatch swing open releasing a cloud of the gas, the man was gasping for air amid wisps of grey smoke as he tossed away the spent canister that had been at his feet. He was suffering from the customized tear gas keeping his eyes held shut as he wheezed, Cameron dissolved the suits power converter which had been using the energy covering the atrium from the ship above, the power-frame unit drooped: powerless and immobile.
Shortstop had started another run by looping around the atrium, he was moving fast when he came at Cameron trying to make another connection on the boy, Cameron angled his kinetic field to rebound the impact. “Leap, special delivery – don’t care where” called Cameron into Com, this time the attacking rush sent the “Knight’ careening towards the west corridor; Leap appeared as if in flight and grabbed Shortstop before he landed and away they went.
Cameron’s back was to the Catcher and his oversized entrapment ‘glove’ came up from behind Cameron, the power frame slammed into him as it sprung the cage, upon closure the cage sent a shock wave to incapacity its’ captive and streams of knock-out gas filled the void within the shut glove, Cameron felt the tug and rapid lifting as the Catcher’s tether pulled him skyward up to the Knights of Purity’s dropship which had taken position overtop the mall to empower the suits. The vessel; once it had its’ payload and bay door snapped closed, began a midair rotation to head North across the border into Detroit.
Cameron dematerialized his entrapment - the gas had not gotten near his lungs as Cameron sent it into containment in the Warehouse. The cargo bay was cramped quarters which forced the Catcher to stoop, he had expected his prize to be neutralized and give no resistance, he didn’t know what to do when Cameron walked out of his ‘mitt’, the man inside the Catcher suit tried to react by grabbing onto his prize and stop Cameron - who at a glance disabled the power frames mechanical systems and welded every joint rendering the entire unit immobile “I hope you wanted to be buried in that coffin” he said to the man inside the husk of metal. Cameron looked about the ship, it was the launch bay that the Knights had deployed from, he scoured the walls and found a power junction behind reinforced plating, he made an opening by dissipated the metal, reaching in and grabbing the cluster of wires and cables bundled within.
The KoP dropship had begun to make forward movement when it lurched, the port side dipping and the entire ship shuddered violently, the engines roar grew as they fought to stabilize but it quickly sputtered, the metal groaned as it strained to stay aloft – it wasn’t designed to handle a critical failure in all its electrical systems, it gave a final gasp and dropped from the sky. Ken watched along with the onlookers as the dropship descended out of sight on the farside of the mall, followed by a massive crash.
Leap was the first to arrive at the crash site, the mighty ship had taken substantial damage with its spine folded and the body crumpled, it lay across a large part of the parking lot with it’s nose blocking a roadway, it was fortunate that the area around the mall had been evacuated and cordoned off, still: a couple of parked cars had been crushed under the airship when it fell – one was the ‘Knights’ own tour bus. John looked around to find a door to get inside the ship but upon trying to open it - it had been damaged and wouldn’t budge, he resorted to banging on the hull and shouting “Are you allright in there?”.
Leap heard Cameron’s yell from up at the cockpit and he jumped to get closer, Cameron had busted out a window and was with the flight crew, from what John could see the crew was unhurt and still strapped into their seats but unconscious – or sleeping, could be either knowing the kid. Emergency vehicles began to arrive with the fire department setting up ladders to extract everyone out of the cockpit. Cameron was requested to create a hole into the damaged rear section that held the Catcher and his sealed suit was split apart by the fire department using the ‘jaws of life’ which acted like a can opener.
Leap had returned with Bossman who took charge of the situation, the so called ‘robbers’ had been restrained on gurneys before Cameron released the neural inhibition he had used to drop them, some had injuries that the EMS folks tended to – sustained from when a Knight had stepped on them. The Knights had been removed from their disabled power suits, once the ship fell their power feed terminated and any working units ground to a halt, each of the Knights had been arrested and now sat restrained in a van waiting to be transported to jail. Smith had wrapped up her equipment and made copies of all the footage sharing it with local enforcement and mall security, she had snuck into the dropship and started to snoop around.
Cameron was being checked over by an EMT in an ambulance, his teammates gathered beside the ambulance to wait as Cameron’s bruised ribs and sprained ankle were wrapped in bandages. Ken lent support as Cameron hobbled out of the ambulance, grimacing when he put pressure on the leg “Okay, next time I fall out of the sky – I want a parachute” joked the youth to his team. Ray had started his debrief before Smith returned “Me likey! can we get one Boss?” she asked pointing to the defunct dropship.
Cameron looked at the grounded skyship and asked Bossman “What’s going to happen to it?”
Ray paused before saying “It was used in an attack upon federal officers, I would think it will be impounded and seized – probably sold as scrap metal, I imagine they’ll have to cut it up to get it out of here”.
“Can I have it” asked the injured boy balancing on his good leg.
Ray should have known the boy would want it, but it wasn’t a question he had been prepared for, the groups Boss made a couple phone calls before he gave Cameron permission. Cameron with assistance moved up beside the husk, Ken asked “what kind of crazy are you?” to Cameron’s wry smile “Like a fox” it took Cameron a moment to build up the charge he needed, the entire dropship picked up a blue hue which grew in intensity then simply vanished, he took some time repairing the roadway and parking lot – leaving the pancake that was the Knights tour bus, and repaired the two cars that had sustained damage.
Leap asked “How are you with classic corvettes?”
“Them’s some tasty vittles” retorted Cameron looking around expectantly.
August 30, 2007. Ottawa
The Judges had made a ruling after review of the evidence: deciding that Cameron did not fit the definition of a mutant since he’d didn’t have any genetic markers as commonly used to identify a mutation, henceforth he would not be referred to as a mutant – doing so at risk of being held in contempt of court. That was a blow the MCO didn’t like, their entire focus so far had been to label Cameron a threat only they could handle.
The proceedings could now proceed into the prosecutions argument and moved into presenting evidence in support of Cameron’s case, naturally the lawyers tried to prevent the MCO’s own accident recording from being submitted, but it got entered using Mike’s original argument again successfully, the recording was watched a half dozen times to explain key points. Each showing was damning with it’s all encompassing display, the MCO’s legal guru’s ran out of objections after the fourth time around as the completeness of the detail left no questions, Cameron cringed in anguish each and every time it played, even if he could only see little snippets of the video – the audio recording tore at his soul, and he was sobbing fully during the last descriptive running to Mike’s supplementary narrative.
Cameron was shaking, raked with grief and in a state of shock onset from replaying the accident again and again, his nightmares now had new fodder. Arriving back at the shelter; after the second worst day of his life, waiting for Cameron was Marcus and Grace, the boy didn’t say a word as he ran up and buried himself into Graces arms. It felt like an eternity before he regained composure to pull away and welcome his friends. Mike made a point of speaking with Cameron – to ease his own conscience over putting the youth through a most torturous day.
Grace and Marcus had rooms in Cameron’s area and would stay at the bomb shelter during their testimony, which may only take a day or two according to Mike, Cameron was just glad to have their company and spent every minute talking and catching up with his friends.
August 31, 2007. Ottawa
Grace / Polaris was on the stand and getting grilled by the MCO lawyer, Mike had already established she was only to be know by her codename, and that was a point being hammered on. Mike’s comment about how the badgering would work nicely into her own court case raised questions from the judges, a point of order was made that a legally established code name was suitable for use in court as it protected a witness and was under precedence from other cases.
Grace spoke describing her role as the accident recording played yet again, adding her own insights having the recording pause to explain certain points.
The MCO lawyers smartly didn’t open the floor to why Grace had been arrested so Mike broached that fact, which drew scrutiny from the judges and them asking question to the MCO for clarification – they provided simple yes / no answers. Their cross-examination was almost laughable since her account matched what was visible for all to see on the monitors.
Marcus / Timbre was next to be sworn in, he also talked about the accident to the backdrop of the recording. Under exploratory questions Mike had him explain why he removed the recording out of the MCO vehicle, his response was intriguing as the MCO had never claimed it was missing – Mike worked that point to a fine edge hinting that the MCO had wanted to keep it from ever surfacing, as evident from how vehemently they tried to prevent it’s use, Mike next drew out what had happened after the accident, how the MCO ruthlessly hunted them for years trying to recover the recording.
The MCO again had little recourse to the severely damning testimony against them, their tactic of trying to keep silent only drew more attention from the judges whose questions only got answered with basic yes and no answers, or commenting that a response could impede a separate trial.
RCMP accident scene investigators provided accident details, fully supporting the testimony given, they seemed very pleased that their calculations matched so closely to the footage details that had surfaced later – a feather in that science’s cap.
September 4, 2007. Ottawa
RCMP evidence was again center stage with the ballistics report, next came the medical evidence – Doctors Kathy and Amanda gave concise depositions recounting Cameron’s coma and injuries. Doctor Samuels testimony about the bullets was like a nail in a coffin when Mike brought out the resultant gender complications and the emergency surgery Cameron had undergone.
Court was to resume next week, to allow the judges time for other business.
That night in the entertainment room everyone gathered to watch Cameron’s interview broadcast on TV, his teammates sat with blank expressions horrified as the story unfolded, once it finished they each tried to console the kid as they themselves attempted to deal with the emotionally wrenching details of his story – they had known he had had it rough but they just didn’t understand: till now. It was probably the greatest irony ever that ‘Tales of the MCO’ had been preempted for the special broadcast.
Cameron was very thankful that Grace and Marcus had stayed, he coped with the emotional rollercoaster he was on - only by means of the strength they lent him.
September 11, 2007. Ottawa
The courtroom had been pretty quiet with only a few interested parties previously attending, that changed after the broadcast, there wasn’t an empty seat as reporters had been sent to get the scoop on the breaking story that rocked the nation. Curious spectators also came with many holding photos of missing children.
The MCO visage as ‘Canada’s protectors against the mutant horde’ had begun to crack, and the media was looking for rocks to toss.
The judges had barely taken their seats when the MCO attacked, they waved the non-disclosure agreement in the air and howled how Cameron had broken a contract. Mike calmly entered his copy of the agreement into evidence, he pointed out that the agreement was null and voided since mediation failed due to the assassination attempts, Cameron was free to speak and had only exercised his right. The Judges after a brief discussion asked Mike “How many assassination attempts have been made?”
“So far a total of nine, at least that we know of” supplied Mike “We are prepared to begin entering that evidence in the coming days to illustrate the prejudice our esteemed opposition holds for my client”. The murmur from the ‘bench’ lasted a minute before Mike was instructed to continue.
Mike summed up what had already been established, he next brought out a binder that turned out to be the agreement between the MCO and Canadian government, he had marked pages and read paragraphs that established the mandated authority under which the MCO must operate under within Canada’s borders, he paused occasionally and asked the MCO if he was incorrectly presenting the documents contents.
His reading explained in great detail that the MCO would provide testing of mutants, create files using code-names of registered mutants, provide information storage and share data with researchers and medical personnel, attention was given to when a mutant manifested and would have a ‘grace’ period before having to have testing conducted and then be issued an MID.
The next section addressed their role regarding the movement of mutants: how the MCO could conduct screening at airports to ensure safe passage for everyone with the provision they could deny travel to unregistered mutants or any mutant that posed a danger to themselves or others from not having their mutation under control.
Mike continued reading from the agreement, the MCO would assist enforcement agencies: be they federal, provincial or territorial in the investigating of mutant activities that contravene duly enacted laws or may endanger the populous, the MCO’s sole role to provide support to enforcement agencies of a technical nature to help in the identification and classification of mutants thereby aiding in the determination of a potential threat. Mike again asked the MCO if he had made a misinterpretation of the agreement so far. Without objection Mike entered the agreement into evidence.
Mike next brought out a large blue manual, embossed with the MCO name and logo “This is the MCO manual which describes how they will conduct their operations to meet the terms of the agreement, it can be found at any MCO office or public library”, It too was entered into evidence after Mike had read a few paragraphs detailing how a field agent would work under the direction of an enforcement officer.
Once more Mike asked if he had made any misinterpretation that the MCO disagreed with, The MCO sought to know if this line of reasoning was going anywhere. Mike straight forwardly replied “I’m am trying to determine under what authority the MCO arrests someone – terrorize them – detains and then conducts interviews unheard of even in medieval times. What in your mandate gives you the right to perform those acts?”
Mike had set, baited, and now sprung a trap, the MCO made several efforts to backtrack and shift responsibility and attention - but Mike kept on them and pinned them down at every turn. It felt really good to watch them twist in the wind and Cameron was hard pressed not to smile as the gaggle of lawyers attempted to tack a course to get out from Mikes noose, Karen nudged Cameron saying “Goal!”
After the MCO had failed miserably to save face, Mike continued by presenting a black manual that he introduced as the MCO’s actual field agent guide. Once the MCO heard that: it got their hackles up bad! every possible way to stop it from being entered as evidence was tried, even accusing Mike of theft and being in possession of stolen property.
Mike produced the envelope and letter from Andre Gatineau: the MCO Director, as being the source of the document. The Judges asked if Mr. Gatineau was available to add testimony, Mike informed them with regret that Andre had been killed by a car bomb outside his office by an MCO assassin. After a recess the judges decided that Mike had not broken any laws and the guide could be entered as evidence, The MCO side was outraged.
Mike tore into the MCO, as page after page was dissected and shown how an agent could quickly classify and categorize any mutant, if they ranked low they should be ‘culled’, however; if ranked highly they could be ‘herded’ through terror and torture tactics – brief details such as the most effective methods to incite panic and fear were listed along with diagrams showing the best points on the anatomy to strike, it was shocking to discover that much of the information was being sourced from Nazi internment camp files. The judges asked the MCO “where are mutant’s being herded to?” when the MCO refused to answer they were charged with contempt.
Grace and Marcus had been present in the gallery for the proceedings but they had to fly out that evening, so a pizza and beer celebration was held (Cameron got root beer) before they had to leave. Cameron’s teammates had taken to the mutant couple and were sorry to see them go, Cameron though had the hardest time letting the closest people to his heart walk away with only a faint promise they’d see him soon.
September 12, 2007. Ottawa
The courthouse had become a circus, spectators and media vied for seats in the gallery, news crews had set up vans with satellite feeds and a bank of camera men and reporters broadcast updates hourly.
On the steps leading up into the courtroom people had begun laying wreaths, cards and candles, a pile of plushie animals had also joined the collection – when Cameron walked past the toys he visibly fought a losing battle with tears: with microphones thrust at him he said “I appreciate your kindness deeply, please give these to sick kids, Thank You”. That news bite resulted in Children’s Hospitals across the nation being inundated with donations of stuffed toys.
Cameron had noted that fewer and fewer lawyers would show up to represent the MCO, Mike had found out private law firms had begun to distance themselves and sever ties to keep from being labeled either anti-mutant or in league with the MCO.
Mike and his team had been preparing detailed accounts for each of the assassination attempts upon Cameron, he used a timeline chart to show that within 24 hours of awakening the MCO wanted him dead, the first submitted file contained the photographs of Ryan Coddet (aka Codfish) held fast with a poison laden syringe, plane tickets and phone records linking him to the MCO and Mr. Bartholomew Sigil a lawyer hired to suppress Cameron’s case.
Karen handed Mike folder after folder in succession; ended with the Knights of Purity, the closed circuit camera footage along with sync’d audio provided a telling story how they had acted without any regard for Canadian law when they attacked Cameron and attempted to kidnap him, retrieved records off their ship showed they intended to take him by force into the States and turn him over to the MCO: he was to be taken to a discrete location, tortured and killed.
Each file had drawn fire from the opposition, trying to distance the MCO from any involvement; but Mike had been able to; with help from Special Investigations, securely attach each attempt to the MCO, as well he tied it neatly into their own ‘standard operating procedures’ citing the page and paragraph as they precisely followed their own prescribed steps.
Mike had taken a very long time when presenting Cameron’s ‘interview’ at MCO headquarters in Prince George; showing how the agents had followed the ‘book’ to the letter - however the branding had been a local office inspiration. The collective gasp of seeing Cameron handcuffed dangling from the ceiling had warranted asking those with weak dispositions to exit the gallery, since photographs couldn’t be taken: handsketch artists had to work fast to capture images – most of those had to be censored from the public on the nightly news.
Mike provided the RCMP file regarding three ‘disposal sites’ that had been found, each on property owned by Humanity First or their devoted members. Next of kin had been notified on remains upon which an identification could be made, they still had 12 bodies needing forensic identification. Sobbing in the courtroom directed attention to parents who had lost their child. The numbers of dead and still missing children that Mike provided was staggering.
The evening news carried the story about what an MCO interview entailed, it was corroborated by a few other mutants that told their own stories. It resulted in picket lines forming at MCO offices demanding to know ‘what have you done with our children’. Posters with faces of missing children sprang up in-front of MCO offices and H1 chapter houses getting vandalized with spray painted swastikas.
September 13, 2007. Ottawa
Before the days’ proceedings commenced the judges asked for each party to meet in chambers, Mike later told Cameron it was about why had the MCO ended mediation when they could have kept this away from public scrutiny. Politicians were getting dragged into the fray with constituents demanding action, mothers on the TV crying “my baby; where’s my baby” doesn’t win elections.
At the start of session Mike entered one more piece of evidence into record, it was the personal letter from Bruce Goodkind, Mike had ensured it could be used and been given permission, it carried the acknowledgement that Cameron had been grievously wronged and he sought to correct any part that the Goodkind’s might have had in it, the details of the settlement remained undisclosed. That letter had firmly thrown the MCO under the bus. Mike ended the presentation of his case against the MCO, attention turned to the depleted defendants table, the lead lawyer stood and approached the bench “Your honours, the MCO would like an adjournment until tomorrow before presenting our defence.”
The judges granted the request, and the room was dismissed for the day.
Mike and Cameron had received a discrete invitation to join the judges in chambers, as they entered the private room Cameron was introduced to the robed men, standing off in the corner was a women hidden in shadow near a bookcase, the lead judge asked her to come forward with her taking a seat at the large table Mike and Cameron had been shown to. She looked with intensity at Cameron, his eyes still uncovered and shining, he had seen her in the gallery and noticed her aurora. “Miss Selina is a registered psychic, she has a unique ability in sensing and blocking paranormal activity and has been used by many courts to prevent influencing and meddling. She has been in attendance during your case on our behest. Selina, what can you report?”
“Your honours, the young man here has no psychic abilities whatsoever, I have sensed nothing coming from him but waves of sadness and grief: but the entire gallery shared those feelings including your honours.” She paused a moment “however, The MCO has been employing at least two psychics to either harass the prosecution or instigate Mr. Burke into acting rashly”.
September 14, 2007. Ottawa
The spectators buzzed in anticipation of the courts next revelations, the media was in a frenzy looking to be fed. As the room was called to order, the expectant eye was cast upon the MCO table. The lead lawyer stood and stepped up near the judges’ podium, turning to the audience instead of the judges. “The MCO refuses to participate any further in this farce of a trial, these proceedings are being influenced by a mutants’ psychic powers, any ruling will be biased from that tampering, we request an immediate judgement so a mistrial can be called and an appeal made to the Supreme Court”. The lawyer took his seat without saying anything further.
Court was put into recess; Mike was called into chambers twice during the break.
A couple minutes after two in the afternoon the Judges recalled session and handed down a guilty verdict on all charges. The case was now being referred up to Supreme Court.
It was a bittersweet victory.
Mike called his legal team together for a briefing, he recognized how solidly the case had been constructed and handed out sincere thanks to all, his praise for outstanding efforts made by each of them had resulted in a remarkable outcome, he had no doubts that the trial they all had worked so hard on would come out as a milestone case.
There was no way of knowing when the Supreme Court might conduct a review, what they might conclude, or when a re-trial might be called. Mike was freeing them from their commitment and letting them return to their own practices or jobs. He asked all to leave a contact number if they wanted to participate should the case resume.
Cameron wanted to shake everyone’s hand – it ended up being hugs. A skeleton staff would remain to deconstruct the case and see if any holes needed plugging.
September 16, 2007. Ottawa
The bomb shelter lost a vibrancy that had become the norm, it had become quieter where once the drone of activity had been. Cameron had been spending time in the Warehouse and Workshop keeping busy, but felt the need for refreshment, as he walked the lonely corridors which had become a more solitary place, he heard his own footfall as he approached Mess to get some juice, he jumped out of his skin when the claxon sounded. He backtracked to his room to grab his official gear then ran to Cabinet. Roche was already there – he had been in the workout room, Smith was a step behind Cameron and hurried to set up the board, Leap arrived with the Boss.
Ray asked Smith to bring everyone up to speed with what had been called in when Ken slipped into the room – he apologized for being late: he had been in the shower. Pam called up a map of Labrador, she pointed to an area along the continents Eastern shore to a First Nations Community. “A bush pilot reported seeing HELP spelled out on a rooftop when he did a flyby, he didn’t see any activity and the runway was scattered with debris preventing him from landing. It is only accessible by air or sea – we are the quickest response. Leap: the co-ordinates for the airstrip”
“This is going to take a lot of bounces, one at a time folks” commented John
Ken asked “Do the locals speak Inuit?”
“Looks to be a mixed bag; English and French also” added Pam.
Roche volunteered “Boss, If I go first I can at least clear the runway while Leap brings in the others, the community looks to be a klick or more away.”
Ray took a minute “Alright, Al clear the runway - keep a heads up, Cameron back him up till Ken and John arrive, Cameron takes point, Smith any concern with the Com signal.”
“None Boss; satellites can carry its ears, video would be grainy at best” supplied Smith
“See if it can give us eyes too” asked the Boss
Cameron strapped on a backpack while waiting the couple minutes it took for Leap to return, Cameron handed the teleporter a sports drink knowing long jumps wore him out faster. The ‘port’ took six bounces (additional leaps) to catch up to Roche, John needed a second to recoup before heading back, Cameron checked the vocal Com link and got a ‘five by five’, Roche clicked in he was to the North moving equipment and trees that had been dragged out to block the runway. Leap waved before his port then Cameron started walking to Roche, Cameron spotted movement! a super fast blur, he cycled through his vision and nearly gaged when he layered energy sources over heat signatures, an animal vaguely looking like a bear was stalking Roche, it was hideous. The best Cameron could decipher was it looked to be covered in cancer, it was reminiscent of what he’d seen inside little Eric, it oozed and pulsed but still had the outline of a bear mixed with a something else: a deer maybe. Over Com Cameron called Roche “On your right in the undergrowth, shield yourself, ugly doesn’t even come close”.
Cameron watched as the beast burst out of hiding to attack the Brick, his protective field had gone up in time but he was knocked to the ground and struggled with the wildly thrashing thing - this encounter was besting him fast but his field was holding. They rolled about, the snarling beast lashing with claw and fang trying to penetrate Al’s defence, Cameron approached closer and sought a way to help Roche; he couldn’t see its nervous system so just froze the beasts’ muscles and skeleton, it was motionless but in doing so its molecules went into overdrive, Roche barely touched it to push it away when it exploded sending black slime everywhere, Cameron was not impressed as he had to clean some slop away off his clothes. Roche was struggling to stand up but when Cameron looked at his teammates face he saw the same black mass forming around his teammates eyes and burrowing into his skull, given how fast acting this black was he could only think of one thing – his dimension without time: Storage. He had never put anything alive in there before but this infection wasn’t giving him a choice. Roche disappeared into the blue without a trace.
Cameron Com’d “Situation is extreme danger – repeat extreme. Infectious agent present, Roche is down - I have him stable: I hope. Keep Leap and GQ clear.”
Smith replied seconds later “Message carried, what’s your plan.”
“I need to find a safe location to help Roche, and learn more about what’s happening here, suggest I head to the settlement, recommendations?”
“I can port in and get you out” Leap put forward.
“I was in as close a contact as Roche, no signs of infection yet, but can’t risk spreading it” said Cameron “Leap get a full medical – look for a black mass similar to cancer - spreads fast – eyes seem most vulnerable. Smith - check for any similar reports, an animal was fully engulfed in the black when it attacked us.”
“Cameron; did it bite Roche?” asked Ray.
“No Boss, he was in his field, didn’t see any physical contact, it could be airborne” postulated Cameron.
“Head to town, Godspeed son” was Rays instruction.
Cameron walked as briskly as he could down the dirt track that connected the airstrip to the settlement, he removed his visor and put it into his pack so he could better scan the area - only to see that it was completely devoid of life: not a squirrel, rabbit, or bird left. However, mosquitoes and black flies a plenty.
A personal force field to prevent anything from touching you would be awful handy he mused, frequently checking the area where the black slop had landed - with no infection starting. Cameron was still thankful that he could stop bullets and taken time to refine how he absorbed energy since his first attempts.
As he neared the houses that the satellite photo had showed him in the briefing, he spotted two more of the black animals, they had just walked past each other as if guarding a perimeter, a third beast rounded a clump of trees - it looked like a midsized bear, it either spotted or smelled Cameron as it barked and began a vicious run at him.
Not having time to make a better plan he recalled one of the tips from Parks Canada about being in bear country: he charged at it. It didn’t faze the bear beast in the least, Cameron hardened and angled his kinetic field shaping it into a plow blade, which effectively deflected the fast-approaching bear once they almost touched sending it into a boulder knocking it senseless, Cameron noticed as the distance between them narrowed its skin boiled and peeled back – revealing flesh underneath, Cameron ran past as fast as he could.
A dog type beast had joined the hunt and was moving in on Cameron to intercept him, it would cut off his route into the town so Cameron needed to discourage it. Cameron put a layer of slick lithium underneath its feet and formed a runway to lead it past Cameron’s’ path, the ‘dog’ stood on all fours giving a yip as it spun 360 degrees before slamming into a house broadside: winding it.
Cameron passed the downed beast as he entered town between two buildings continuing to run, another of the ugly beasts following closely at his heels, Cameron heard the shotgun blast and detected the yelp behind him as the beast dropped grinding into the ground, Cameron slowed once he saw his pursuit had stopped, he moved cautiously up to the downed black beast, its body rising and falling in shallow breaths, as he neared the ‘black’ boiled again as he’d noticed it had done before on the bear, it’s ‘paw’ peeled back to show raw and pitted flesh with exposed muscle tissue having blood that was crusty and flaked quickly, but it definitely was a mans hand. The beasts laboured breath stopped with a final gasp and the body sank as the air left its lungs, the black turned to liquid and the entire body evaporated leaving only a wet spot behind.
“Boy! over here” shouted a man from inside a doorway. Cameron hastened over and slid through the crack that had been made as an entrance for him, it was closed as soon as he had gotten through. The building was a great hall, the single large roomed building that acted as a social centre for many small northern communities. Inside Cameron found twenty-two people, mostly children, and three adults who stood as a barrier between him and the others in the room, it took Cameron a moment to sort out the energy signatures, but these people were definitely all Weres! What he witnesses outside started to make some sense.
“Hello, I’m Cameron, I’ve come to help” offered Cameron as he set his backpack down
“What can you do boy? Except maybe be a night light” sneered the male adult, the only one left in town
“For starters, I have communication out” as Cameron pointed to his Com unit
“Fat good that will do, we have people starving here” complained the man as his arm was getting tugged by a female to his side.
“Then isn’t it fortunate I brought food, which would you prefer: beef, buffalo, or fish? Weres seem to like a high protein diet”
“You’re not one of us boy, how do you know about us” asked the man becoming leery of the stranger
“I have met your kind before; you have complex energy signatures that are unmistakable” remarked Cameron
“Stop speaking rubbish, you can’t see our other forms” doubted the man
“Don’t need to. Human or Animal the energy stays the same” stated Cameron
“George, give the boy some slack, can’t you smell he’s marked, show some manners” interjected the woman who had started more aggressive yanking his arm
“Hello I’m Ruth; Cameron was it? You said you had food?
“It’s not in this pack” grumbled George rifling through Cameron’s backpack
“Never said it was, which is best: buffalo or beef? questioned Cameron
“Haven’t had buffalo in ages” Ruth hemmed
“Do you have means to cook it?” asked Cameron trying to not sound impertinent
“We can light a fire; how much did you bring?” Ruth replied beginning to think the boy was touched and needed humouring.
“A couple hundred pounds of buffalo, more of beef” a table was cleared onto which Cameron brought out several large cuts of raw meat he had placed into his Storage, the lady Weres set about preparing the meat for cooking while George built a fire in the centrally located wood stove, Cameron lent a hand ensuring the fire caught and burned hot. The towns folks had run out of water as well so Cameron filled the empty bottles and the large coffee pot sitting on the stove from out of his Reservoir. As the meal was cooking Cameron was shown around the hall and introduced to the occupants – as he had surmised, the parents had sent the children to the hall for shelter, leaving Ruth, George, and Megan as guardians while the rest of the town fought the attackers, the hall was soundly built and stood up to the attempts to breech the walls – so far anyway. The smell of the sizzling meat said food was ready with Ruth apportioning out the meal to ensure everyone got some.
The mood in the great room improved vastly once the hunger pains had been chased away and enough drink was to be had to wash the food down, Cameron sat in an offered chair and took a small amount of the roasted buffalo meat. Ruth joined him once everyone was beginning to unwind and relax.
“Are you a wizard?”
“No, I just kept this in a storage space, no magic involved” said Cameron noticing this seemed to relive the woman “Can you tell me what is going on around here? What the black goop is?”
“Five days ago three of the dark arrived, they just tested our defences at first, an incursion now and again. The attacks began in earnest once they knew our strength and numbers, we had a community of a hundred and fifty it’s whittled down to twenty now. We had a couple normals in our midst, they turned without any direct contact, it takes a bite or a wound for the dark to spread to a Were.”
“Did the ‘dark’ start on the normals around their eyes?”
“Yes, they went mad quickly, it twisted them, deformed them. I’m sorry to say it was a mercy to kill them and end their pain. Were take a couple hours to twist, we discovered that silver can wound and maybe if enough used could kill - but it’s not like we have much of that around.”
George stood quickly and directed everyone to be silent, a faint noise of something moving around on the roof could be heard, suddenly the stoves chimney began to make a rattle and then clatter as it was torn apart from above, pieces of the flue fell to the ground with the fires smoke beginning to enter into the room, a horrendous sound of the roof getting torn up brought fear to the halls occupants. Cameron watched the lone black beast as it shifted about on the roof trying to make an opening big enough to come in through, it tore up small parts to widen the hole. Cameron moved up to the stove and his blue light made the large piece of cast metal glow: he reshaped the stove into a basin then added more material from out of the warehouse until in the middle of the great hall stood a metal tank, Cameron dematerialized the roof under the dark animal causing it to drop flailing wildly into the tank - which Cameron in a blink placed a cover over, looking up Cameron then reconstructed the roof.
Cameron watched the dark beast throw itself about the thick metal walled tank in vain checking the integrity, it soon relented to the fact it was caught but continued to snarl loudly.
Ruth came to stand beside Cameron “Why did you bring it in here? No one is safe now”
“Nobody is going to be safe unless we find out how to stop these things” spoke Cameron deep in thought “We need to know a whole lot more about this ‘dark’ than we do right now” turning to face Ruth he reassured her “it can’t get out – there are no openings”
Cameron tapped on the tank and asked “Hello, can you speak?”
The only acknowledgement he received was a low growl and another bang as it threw itself against the tank. Cameron formed thick glass in his hands then held it against the tanks metal, the metal shifted to mold around the glass making a viewport, the minimal response did indicate intelligence – he hoped. He set himself in-front of the small window: the beast was misshaped and disfigured but the outline was that of a large cat, his observation seemed to bring the animal pain as it tried to move away from his view, Cameron noticed the boiling black making tiny eruptions as it festered. Cameron alternated his vision until it appeared that the ‘cat’ reeled in agony – the black cancer shriveled and scattered to stay out of direct contact with the light from Cameron’s eyes, the dark was vacating the area around the ‘cats’ muzzle, the longer Cameron looked at the same spot the more flesh was exposed until a persons’ face was able to be seen down to the neck. The face was covered in loose hanging skin and open sores, veins looked like black tendrils set against the deathly pale colour of the skin.
“Can you talk?” asked Cameron to the face who’s features contorted in pain.
“it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much” was the feeble response from a voice deeply pained.
Cameron gathered his composure before asking “Do you know who you are?”
“Alan, my names Alan”, he spoke just above a whisper
“Alan. What happened to you?”
“I was fighting – help protect a village – last I remember was getting bit.”
“What todays date?”
“Middle of June” came the distressed voice, his face wincing at the waves of intense pain.
“Can you tell me about the dark that you fought?”
“Small at first, then built numbers by changing villagers.”
“Was it a Were village?”
“Yes.”
Cameron was watching the black, it tried to return to the flesh that had been uncovered, but it appeared to melt when in direct contact with the light so stayed hidden. Cameron noted Alan’s energy level had faded during their brief conversation, it didn’t bode well. Taking another look Cameron spotted a similarity that grieved him.
“Are you Alan Franklin, son of Doug and Terry?”
“Keep them away from me, don’t let it get them” fear was evident in his clouded grey eyes from the recognition Cameron’s question brought.
“I met your parents, they are nowhere near us.”
“Mom! she will be worried sick” was accompanied with a groan.
Cameron looked at the wretched sight, he didn’t know how to help or even if it was possible to save Alan, but maybe he could offer closure. Bringing out his Com unit he spoke “Smith, I need to make a call, I will reconnect in a couple minutes” turning away for a second he dialed a number he’d memorized by heart, as it rang he returned to looking at Alan, the black had begun to reclaim what it had lost but retreated under the lights return.
Terry had been busy in the home office taking care of the books when the phone rang, she pushed away the stack of papers before she reached for the handset. “Hello?”
“Hi Terry, Cameron calling; are Doug and Lynn with you?”
“Hello Cameron, I’m sorry – Lynn isn’t here right now. She and Doug have gone to Lethbridge for parts, you need to call more often you know!”
“Terry, I have Alan on the line with me, I need to tell you that he is in a bad way” The phone was quiet for a second.
“Can he talk?”
“I’ll put him on” Cameron placed the phone up against the tank wall and let it mold into the metal, the phone passed through the wall, then it extended up to Alans ear suspended on a metal outcropping.
“Mom?” Asked Alan hopefully.
Cameron gave the two as much privacy he could while still needing to keep his sight on the black slime so it didn’t overrun Alan. The mother and son spoke for a few minutes – Alan was so very brave as he tried to mask the agony he was feeling, he had difficulty keeping his train of thought although his emotions tore into him – making it hard to not cry. Cameron had been monitoring Alans energy and it was really waning, his inability to say more than a couple words a result of his unsteady condition. Alan slipped into unconsciousness.
Cameron pulled the phone out of the tank and ensured it was sterilized, speaking into the phone he told Terry “He doesn’t have long.”
“Thank you for letting him say goodbye” Terry was speaking between sniffles trying to hold back an outburst.
“I wish I could do more” commented Cameron in remorse.
“You gave him love, you can’t ask for more than that” said Terry crying openly on her end.
“I need to go. I’m so sorry” wanting so desperately to console her, the dial tone indicated that the connection had ended, Cameron established the connection back onto Com “I’m back, thanks for your understanding”.
“Cameron. Do you have anything you can update us on?” asked Ray.
“The black goop is a contaminating energy, it corrupts a person on visual contact; first attacking the brain then consumes the body, Roche’s current condition is early stage infection. Were’s seem to be the target, I believe it is making recruits among the Were’s – maybe building up numbers. Of the hundred and fifty in town only 22 accounted for, three original invaders now amount to 9 who are surrounding the survivors.”
Alan stirred so Cameron broke off Com
“Alan, this is important, what village did you fight at?”
“In Oregon” was all he could supply. His breathing was laboured, his pain had drained him to exhaustion and he had nothing left to fight on with.
Alan turned his head and looking at Cameron through the window: “My sister” he agonized catching another breath “be good to her” was the last thing he said before his eyes fluttered and closed, Cameron had to bow his head and let out a sob, looking back into the tank the black had covered the unmoving body, the revolting mass writhed as it reaffirmed its hold. Cameron smacked himself on his forehead: he had forgotten the doorway to the dimensional realm with constant light, his Sunroom! It had just enough space to put a thin glass containment tank into, it was a slim chance but he took it, Alan disappeared from the solid metal tank and Cameron put him in the clear tube he’d made from materials out of the Warehouse and tried to impart a spark into him.
Cameron removed the large metal tank and put it in Warehouse so the people around him wouldn’t be nervous. “Alright, we have some good info now, light at the right wavelength hurts the dark beasts, maybe with enough intensity it could even kill them. I’d like to get some materials brought in, but can’t risk sending anyone out yet” turning to Com “Leap, think you could port inside the hall?”
“Smith can get the co-ordinates off your Com, just clear a space for me: meter wide by three long should do.”
“Rodger that. Smith can you round up a couple boxes of 12-gauge shotgun shells and say: a pound of silver, also a half dozen flashlights?”
“Be ready within 30 minutes” was Smith’s reply.
Cameron took some time to check on Roche, he hadn’t moved, which was best since the black hadn’t progressed. Cameron looked at the corrupted parts of Roche’s eyes then followed the path that had been bored into his brain. The diagnosis wasn’t favourable; the eye sockets had pretty much turned black, the eyes had been seventy percent damaged, the optic nerves not much better, fortunately the area of the brain infested was pretty small. Cameron attempted dematerialising the blackened cells while Roche was still in Storage, it was very difficult as it was like looking through a key hole on a door on the other side of the room. It took twenty minutes to clean out most of the contaminated cells, as he finished he decided to put Roche in the sunroom, it would block his collectors but he had amassed a good ‘charge’ in the Battery, he placed Roche inside a glass cylinder, then Cameron moved him over and kept him unconscious.
As his attention returned to the great hall, Ruth had started to clear the space Leap needed, Cameron asked on Com “Please let Leap know we’re ready for him”. Smith replied “he’s just putting on a pack - I have a green, he is making four bounces and will be arriving in: three, two, and … one”. Leap arrived on cue, his forward momentum was caught by George who grabbed onto him, Leap shook the man’s hand in greeting and thanks, then Leap turned to Cameron giving him a one-armed hug as he ruffled the boys’ hair “We’ve been worried about you, any news on Roche?”.
Cameron explained the impromptu surgery he had performed, then excused himself as he checked on Al and Alan, Roche was being bathed in the intense light which seemed to be doing some good as the black Cameron hadn’t taken didn’t overtake more of his eyes and brain, if anything it appeared to be shrinking. Cameron dug into the molecular structure of the black, it was haywire – the neutrons bounced about violently instead of the delicate dance he normally saw at a molecular level, he looked at some cells that had been exposed to the light and saw why the black looked to have shrunk, the neutrons still behaved erratically only slower and had less area of travel; it had indeed shrunk. Cameron materialized mirrors and set them up directing more light at Roche’s eyes, he made thin fibre optic cables and placed them along the black pathways following the optic nerves into the brain, the black began to smoke as it died. Alan looked like a mound of boiling tar, the black bubbled and would pop as a section of cells got over stimulated and exploded.
Looking up at John, Cameron smiled and said their teammate was progressing. John had been unloading his pack and placing the items on a table. Cameron took the shotgun shells and the silver: swapping the lead pellets for silver ones, then returning the shell cartridges to the table. Cameron held a flashlight and examined it, the bulb had to be remade so the light would match what he’d found to be effective, the intensity wasn’t enough however - so he built energy receivers that he could power up. He tested his creation and the light illuminated the hall as all shadow disappeared within it’s beam. Now that he had a design pattern; he set about making the same changes to the remaining flashlights.
Checking on Roche again he was pleased to find all the black had died and shriveled, it was easy to clean away the destroyed cells leaving behind pink healthy flesh. Cameron made bandages and wrapped the mans head, then allowed him to wake and brought him into the great hall.
Roche took a moment to regain his balance, while John and Cameron talked to him, Cameron closely watched his cells as the molecules had returned to normal activity once again synchronizing to time. It was difficult to explain what had happened to him as he had no memory of being attacked by the dark beast he fought, keeping him from removing the bandages was worse still.
Sitting at a table the five adults and Cameron devised a plan: Roche volunteered to be one of the three who would exit the hall to draw in the dark beasts, Cameron and Ruth would go with him, George protested that he should be the one to go but Ruth explained that if she failed he would be the best hope for the children, so he and Megan would each be shooters out the halls windows. Roche would put up as large a PK shell has he could, Cameron would link his kinetic field onto Roche’s shell making connecting loops to hold them together, Ruth would be positioned between: she would have a shotgun. Leap wasn’t happy about being kept out of the fight – but as he had no protection against the dark – his role of loading rifles was also a key position. Cameron affixed a flashlight onto Ruth’s gun, then placed two into Al’s hands, Cameron left one flashlight for each of the Weres and kept one for himself.
Ruth lead Roche to the door and with a hand on his arm took him outside, Cameron was right behind them, as was planned Roche built up his shell with Ruth finding a spot against his back and Cameron backing against Ruth, she was wrapped in a protective cocoon between them. Ruth acted as the driver and directed each to move away from the hall and into George and Megan’s view. Roche branched out his shell to anchor them.
It didn’t take long for the beasts to get their scent and two of the black nasties came running at them from the direction Cameron had entered town, their attack was met by a solid wall as they dived at Roche, Ruth directed Roche to point the light at them and once the intense beam touched either of them they wailed – the black exploding as the focused light moved across their bodies it’s high intensity and refined beam acting like a sword slashing at the dark leaving a deep gouge of charred ooze, one had been hit in the legs and it hobbled away. As the other one of the ‘dark’ moved around Roche; Ruth’s rifle was pointed at the beast’s head and in a mere second after the blast it’s head caved in resulting in the beast dropping to the ground.
Cameron saw a third beast moving in on his side, and called out a warning, it was his friend the bear that came around the corner of a house, it lolloped towards them but once it was within George’s range he took a shot and a gapping hole in its side took down the bear beast. Ruth had dispatched the second of the first attackers with a single blast from her shotgun, Ruth was giving a commentary so Roche knew what was happening, he called out “Three down, how many left?” Cameron took another scan of the area; he had counted nine of them before but could only locate 5 now - one was missing.
Turning his head in a sweeping motion Cameron alerted his trio to which direction the next beast was approaching from, it was coming up from behind the great hall and would come around it closest to Roche, It was big: maybe the size of a moose, it covered ground fast and before Ruth could get Roche positioned it rammed them causing them to twist from the impact, Cameron’s face was inches from the beasts; Cameron could see into its eyes and there was simply nothing there: no intelligence just a glassy grey, Cameron brought the lights beam up carving a lines into it’s neck, it reared up in surprise and Roche swung them about so he was nearest, the moose beast locked in against Al pushing hard and the three left drag marks in the ground, Ruth gave Al direction allowing him to raise his lights up one on either side of its chest and then turned them both into its neck, he then swung them in an upward arc with the effect that its neck was severed. The large carcass slumped weightily against them until it liquefied like the others and dispersed.
Ruth directed them back to the original positioning and they shuffled around it time to see two beasts racing at them, they moved very quickly, maybe wolves, the larger jumped and took a swipe at Ruth as he sailed over the group, the shielding prevented any harm but Ruth’s rifle was knock out of her hands when the beasts paw struck the barrel which extended beyond the fields coverage. The second wolf attacked low and bounced off Roche’s PK field as it tried to bite his legs, he kicked out and connected with the beast sending it a few feet away, two shotgun blasts sounded almost simultaneously as both Megan and George had targeted and shot at a beast, neither shot hit critical points and only wounded them, Megan was able to fire her second round and took the beta wolf down, George got a reload and took his shots, the animal was on the ground but not finished yet, Ruth grabbed one of Roche’s lights and shone the beam through its head; ending it.
Ruth bent down to retrieve her gun, and returned Roche’s light to him, Cameron swept the area again and found the last two beasts, the one had been sneaking closer and was climbing a nearby tree, it looked to be a medium size cat, Ruth was warned and when the beast showed its head she took her shot, the spread only nicked the animal so it leapt at them out of the tree, Cameron angled his field to catapult it overtop them and into the range of the other guns, Megan was ready and her shot was true.
The last dark beast was akin to a rabbit; or fox, or both, very hard to track and near impossible to get a bead on, Ruth had reloaded and quickly emptied her rifle with only making puffs of dirt to show for it, the little terror was a blur that weaved and bobbed around the group of three, it looked to be making a run at the hall. Ruth directed all light to point at the halls door, the effect was as if it was lit by a searchlight, the beast ended its attempt to get into the building and tried to take off back into the trees, Megan made the final shot that brought it down.
Cameron asked if they could make a 360 rotation allowing him to scan the entire surroundings, his sight saw nothing, even after they separated he continued searching but found no more foe, the only remains of their battle was the wet spots where the beasts had fallen.
Cameron aired his concern that one dark beast was missing and unaccounted for, it may have run away or gone for reinforcements, either way, it wasn’t safe for the Weres to remain. Leap began to teleport them to the nearest community after he had taken Roche to get medical attention. Cameron and Ruth were the last to leave, Ruth had 20 people in her care – to find a new home: make a fresh start, her attitude wasn’t bitter; rather she embraced possibility and welcomed opportunity: neither of which would be possible if Cameron hadn’t been there, it was a lesson Cameron needed to take to heart. Cameron faced hours of report writing and debriefing when he returned to the office, but first he and Leap dropped off Alan Franklin at Arkham’s Toronto facility with Cameron helping to set up a room to keep him under bright lights.
September 17, 2007. Ottawa
It was getting close to Lunch time when Mike pipped Cameron over Com, he asked if Cameron could come to Cabinet as something important had come-up. Stepping into the meeting room he found Ray. Mike and another person seated at the table, he was invited to also take a seat.
Ray started by introducing Cameron to Canada’s Governor General.
“Young man, I have been asked to meet with you, it would appear you are making waves and certain people don’t know what to do with you”
“I apologize for making trouble for anyone, but don’t understand what you mean about ‘do with me’?”
“If you win your court battle, it may require the Government to rewrite human rights law, and force either the curtailing or cancellation of Canada’s commitment to the MCO accords. The powers that ‘be’ want to know what you hoped to achieve from all this.”
Cameron needed to consider the question before responding “It would be nice if people stopped trying to kill me. But I don’t think that was what you meant, do I want to see the MCO disbanded or destroyed; not really. When Mike read what their charter actually was – it kinda made sense. But to be honest: that is not who they are anymore, maybe if you could make them be what you had purposed them to be.”
The Governor General nodded in understanding, but continued by asking “And for yourself, what are you looking for: money, popularity, position?”
“Please don’t think I went looking for any of this; I found myself in the middle of a war, to which I have no interest in being a casualty of” Cameron looked around the table “I did try to avoid this fight – but I wasn’t given much of a choice … I guess it means I have dragged even more into it”
Ray commented “It was brewing long before you got pulled in”
“True, but its your face that has become firmly attached to the problem” spoke the Governor General to Cameron “What are your plans?”
Cameron sighed “I just wanted to go to school”
“A reasonable ideal, let’s see if we can’t make that happen” offered the government official.
September 19, 2007. Ottawa
The trial was now in hiatus with no firm commitment as to when the Supreme Court would be able to review the Federal Courts ruling to determine if a miss-trial had happened. Cameron decided to stick to his plan of attending Whateley; even if he would be a couple weeks late arriving.
Ray was very understanding when Cameron informed him of his need to leave, he called the whole team together to break the news, his teammates took his leaving with heavy hearts – even Al who joined them over Com in hospital was saddened.
Ray took Cameron aside for a private conversation, Ray explained the dynamics of an effective team (he used hockey to illustrate), that each person on a team had a role to fill: Smith was like the goalie always there backing up everyone, Al was a defenceman stopping attacks, John was a winger keeping the team moving forward, but Cameron had become the center – always in the thick of it and making the plays that counted. Cameron should consider it a compliment that nobody wanted him to go - he would be missed.
Cameron visited Al at medical, the doctors gave him a good chance of regaining sight, they had a healer coming to work with him. He had no memory from the time he and Leap left base until he awoke in the great hall, that piece of his life was gone which was for the best, Cameron boosted the mans health hoping it would be of help.
Rhubarb crumble and vanilla ice cream was being served at the mess hall, the room was filled with SI members and legal staffers, all whom had gathered as a send off for Cameron. A select few gave speeches that made the shy teenager blush from being the focus of attention, Ray had been very kind in describing the help Cameron had been to SI, Mike was humourous in describing how the trial unfolded and that it was certain to be studied in law schools for years to come. Cameron was invited to speak, and with a bowed head he stood before the assembled group, then looking about the room acknowledging them all, Cameron commenced; “A proverb has it that ‘it takes a village to raise a child’, I am so fortunate to be surrounded by those who have the courage and determination to build a home that lets children grow and live. My friend Ken tells me that the native name for Canada is Kanata: which means village: Each of you are part of that village - my village. Thank You”.
September 20, 2007. Ottawa, Ontario
Cameron’s luggage had been loaded into the car’s trunk, his friends gathered around looking at the shiny new limousine as it sat parked inside the underground government parkade. Ray had been busy co-ordinating Cameron’s travel arrangements, he mentioned having to call in a few favours.
Ray handed the boy a couple letters saying these should be hand delivered and Cameron placed them into his Cupboard for safe keeping. Ray gave his final - parting instructions and wished Cameron well, Pam needed a hug and handed him a going away gift, Karen also hugged the young man and gently kissed his cheek, as John shook his hand he said that if Cameron needed help he would be there ‘lickety split’.
Mike placed an arm over Cameron’s shoulder and walked him to the waiting car, going through a mental checklist as his guardian made certain everything was in order: “Whateley knows your coming, you have your credit card, your monthly allowance will be deposited into your account, you better keep in touch or I’ll get in trouble” Looking down upon the boy, he said “When I became your guardian - I didn’t have a clue what I was getting into, I have to say; I have never been prouder than I am of you” the two stood in a prolonger embrace.
Ken in full RCMP uniform opened the cars back door and Cameron got in and settled onto the floor having a blanket put overtop him. Ken and another RCMP officer sat up front and they drove a short distance then parked in front of a Government office, Ken got out and assisted with loading baggage, then opened the door for a lady, once Ken took the shotgun seat, the black limousine with Canadian Diplomatic plates pulled away.
Seated inside the rear compartment was a very attractive young woman wearing a chic business suit, the car had traveled outside central Ottawa and had entered onto the main highway heading East, a few minutes later she leaned over “You can come out now”. It was suggested that Cameron be hidden to prevent his whereabouts becoming known, he was relieved to finally be able to come up for air.
“And just who is my mystery person I share my ride with” asked the woman in English seasoned with a strong French accent.
“Cameron, Cameron Burke: and Thank you.”
“Ahhh! the young Cameron who puts the politicals into furor, I think our ride will be much interesting, Non?” she remarked.
“Umm, Yes – Oui.” Cameron stammered “sorry, how might I address your ladyship?”
“And he is charmer! Much fun we shall be having. I am Veronique Gosslin: attaché to the Canadian embassy in Washington, but please to call me ‘Nique’, I am deliver new embassy vehicle as I take up my posting in Washington.” Spoke the French Canadian woman gesturing with a flourish.
“A pleasure to meet you, sorry to be such trouble.”
“Trouble? Non! As enjoyable as drive in the countryside is, company is welcome, besides who better to act as tour guide thru ‘La Belle Province’ than Quebecois.”
As the scenery was completely new to Cameron he smiled at the prospect of having someone point out the surroundings “Is this where you live?”
“Home is Trois Reverie, but familial is near here, and vous? You go home?”
“Non, mademoiselle, I travel to school, in the States.”
“tut, Nique – please, ach: of course… I am having papers for you” Veronique quipped, looking into her bag she drew out an envelope and handed it to Cameron “I was instructed to provide once underway, tis direct from Prime Ministers office – I am suspect you are being the hot potatoe, silly me forgetting as I was such occupied with the intrigue” apologised the endearing woman with a smile.
The envelope was nothing like one of the inter-office mailing pouches SI used, it was embossed with a Canada insignia and had an old fashioned wax seal that Cameron felt guilty about having to break in order to open it. Within he found a letter from the Minister of Foreign Affairs informing him he was officially posted as a member of Canada’s diplomatic mission to the United States of America: as an RCMP officer assigned to inspect training facilities for specialized instruction; to determine suitability for Canadian citizens. The packet contained assignment documents and his diplomatic passport. All Cameron could muster was that Ray must have been very busy. Nique’s curiosity could not be contained so when Cameron offered his papers for her to read she jumped at them and whistled as the mystery began to be unveiled.
“You are the VIP, Non?” asked Nique behind a masked smile with a twinkle in her eyes “I am to help with embassy functions: the formal dinners and etiquette, so you are spy upon our neighbours, I am always wanting to met the spy. You said your name was Bond, Oui?” teased the lady.
“Heavens no! I am just going to school, I would say all this is to keep the MCO off my back” replied Cameron, who then began to tell the story of his trial and all the assassination attempts, he was certain that Ray had wrangled all this cover to protect him; which made him all the more thankful to have had such a great Boss.
“And so, my young friend, have you ever ad the famous Montreal sandwich?” quizzed Nique.
“Not to my knowledge” replied Cameron.
“Then we have the perfect luncheon to prepare” directed Nique as she tapped on the glass divider which then lowered, she handed Ken a card
“Monsieur, in Montreal we shall dine at the restaurant”.
Ken replied “I will plan our route right away. How you doing back there Cameron?”
“All good Ken!” responded his charge.
“You two are knowing each other?” quizzed Nique.
“Ken is to make certain I get to school” informed Cameron.
“You are the truant officer to ensure the miscreant attends the school?” teased Nique.
A flustered Ken sheepishly answered “It’s not like that, I...”
“You are then the junior officer escorting the superior?” further roasted the pretty French spitfire.
“No, Cameron’s not my superior.”
“I think maybe so; the papers are saying other, non?” handing the diplomatic assignment page to Ken.
“Holy Guacamole” astounded Ken “kid, you just keep pulling off the darnedest stuff.”
“Hey, this is all Bossman. But for the record – its great you decided to stick with me.”
“I was assigned to get you to school – and you’re not there yet” affirmed Ken.
Veronique had them visit a marvelous café that had some of the finest Montreal smoked meat sandwiches and poutine to be found, Cameron enjoyed his so much he ordered another dozen to go: and set them, along with the three dozen bagels he had bought, into safe keeping before the limo set course for Sherbrook.
The day was mixed cloud that brought sunny patches that highlighted the rolling landscape which Nique provided a joyful narrative to as they passed along. She was: bubbly, animated, and funny, understandably Ken had taken an interest in her. Cameron had spotted indicators in Kens’ heart rate and flushing skin whenever she would tease him – which was frequent.
The highway was not overly crowded so when a sedan passed them then moved in front it didn’t seem out of place, however it slowed down causing the limo to slow as well, a car moved up beside them and stayed in pace as a third vehicle; a truck with an oversized bumper took position behind them. Cameron took interest in the situation that had made the two RCMP become anxious, the car ahead had a bumper sticker that read: ‘If You Don’t Put HUMANITY FIRST, Then HUMANITY Won’t LAST’.
Looking at the vehicles occupants; Cameron noted that they all had weapons with one occupant in the car beside them preparing (what Cameron took to be a machine gun) to fire at them.
Cameron alerted his companions that trouble was brewing, Cameron started by increasing the flow of gasoline into the lead cars engine, it roared to life and began to speed up; it began to swerve when the brake lights came on but continued to open a gap between them.
The car alongside started to move into the lane the limo occupied; at which Cameron located and turned its steering mechanism – the car careened sharply across the highway and took to the ditch on the far side as is spun out.
The truck behind began making a threatening approach intent on ramming them, Cameron gave a mirthful smirk and showed Ken two round metal cylinders with rods attached to the bottoms, asking “You don’t suppose they need these do you? I did leave them six!”
Ken looked quickly at them “Pistons! Yes, I would think so.”
The three turned to watch the truck as it sputtered and belched smoke until it shook with a loud bang as the exhaust system was blown apart and pieces of it trailed underneath making sparks as it grinded along the asphalt, all eyes returned to looking forward in time to see the ‘lead’ car crumpled up off on the side of the road where it had struck a signpost.
“Well looks like the MCO know where we are” voiced Ken in concern.
Cameron chipped in “Maybe not, first thing I did was disable their cellphones and CB radio’s”.
A few miles before the Canada / US border crossing at Comins Mills / Stewartstown, Ken had the limo pull over, he went to the trunk and handed a garment bag to Cameron “I didn’t know why Bossman wanted me to do this until I read your letter. You better put this on, it will help getting through customs” directed Ken. Cameron unwrapped the package to discover an RCMP dress uniform: the iconic red serge including Stetson, it was emblazoned with his name and new rank of Staff Sergeant. Cameron fidgeted within the clothes, which elicited Nique’s comment “He is the handsome one!” which helped sooth Cameron’s feeling of being improperly attired in a suit of clothes he was unfit to wear – Ken sensed his wards unease and added “bout time they put you into clothes that fit”.
MCO Agent Steve Donnelly sat with his feet propped up against the dash of the car they had been assigned for watching the border, a bulletin had directed that all customs houses be observed as a dangerous mutant might try crossing in from Canada, all available agents had been deployed to have as many border crossings monitored as possible. Donnelly had been putting in long days, and his partner Matthews was sleeping behind the wheel as they sat parked on the roadside in view of the Stewartstown border station. An approaching car bearing diplomatic insignia made the man sit up “Bob! Wake up, we might have something”. Bob awoke with a start then let fly a stream of curses befitting one who had spent time in the merchant marines.
The two agents watched as the limousine pulled into the inspection zone, The Customs agents had asked the driver to park so credentials could be checked and asked all in the vehicle to step out and wait beside the car: the extent of a search that could be conducted without creating an international incident. The agents through binoculars viewed the cars occupants; Donnelly was ecstatic when he spied the shorter one with the sunglasses “I think we have our target, lets go get him.”
The Border Guard kept an eye on the vehicles four occupants as the passports got checked in the computer: three RCMP officers and a young woman, the diplomatic papers provided indicted that the woman was an attaché to the Canadian embassy, two of the officers had been assigned as members of the embassy security detail, the third officer; the short scrawny one, was hardly even a teenager, but he was an envoy on a diplomatic mission approved by the Secretary of State, it all checked out. Before she could gather up the papers and return them to the Canadians; the MCO cruiser which had been parked just down the street all day raced up and in a screeching manoeuver blocked the traffic lane, the two agents in dark suits bolted out and with guns drawn ordered all four onto the ground.
“Monsieur, I should advise not mistreating a member of the diplomatic mission, it could be taken as an act of aggression against the Dominion of Canada” cautioned Veronique as she knelt following the threatening order that had been given.
“Pots to that, you’re in the States: and I’m arresting this one” said the man as he grabbed Cameron by the arm
“Are you a representative of the United States government” requested the woman, on her knees with her hands held over her head
“I am MCO agent Leonard McCoy, and I am authorized to interrogate who ever I want” barked the man holding the course of intimidation.
“Non, you cannot! His detention must be directed through Canadian Embassy by your own diplomatic office. Such is the way of international etiquette.” Beamed Veronique having wanted so badly to use her training.
“Lady, shut up” yelled the MCO agent as he fastened the exemplar 4 handcuffs onto Cameron and started dragging the youth to the back of the MCO cruiser. After forcibly getting pushed inside and having the door slammed shut, Cameron positioned himself on the seat in the secure confinement area, as his companions remained motionless under the watchful eye of ‘Bob’ who kept his rifle trained on them.
Nique whispered to Ken “Are you going to do something to stop this travesty?”
Ken replied “With Cameron, I’ve learned it’s best to keep out of the way and let him do his thing”
Both agents climbed into their car and sat there, and they continued to sit there.
Nique stayed on her knees as had the two RCMP, but she opened her cell phone and placed a call, speaking briefly before hanging up.
The two MCO agents looked to be having a heated argument inside the car, after almost ten minutes the driver exited the vehicle and opened the hood, “The battery is dead, I swear – if you hadn’t listened to the radio all day this wouldn’t have happened”
“Oh, its my fault you broke something with your fancy driving” rebuffed Agent Donnelly (Leonard McCoy) “I just said we needed to arrest him, but no! You had to go all ‘Dukes of Hazard’ on me”.
The two agents continued to bicker as they both worked under the hood, not noticing the phone ringing in the Border Station, moments later - one of the Border Guards came out and ushered the three Canadians into the station, un-noticed by the MCO still embattled as they sough a solution to their car troubles. A single Border Guard approached the stricken car and knocked on the side panel to get the men’s attention. “I have someone on the line that wants to speak with you”
“Tell them I’ll call them back later” directed the Agent wiping a bead of sweat off his brow.
“You’ll want to take this now” returned the voice with a note of urgency, presenting the wireless phone to him.
Relenting Donnelly took the handset and sharply spoke “Donnelly! What the heck do you want?”.
“Son, this is the President, can you explain to me why the Canadian Prime Minister would call me in the middle of a baseball game demanding to know why his embassy staff was being forcibly detained at the border – and while you’re at it; tell me why the camera feed from that Border Station has a handcuffed RCMP officer in the back of your car?”
“Sir, I can explain” recoiled the agent
“Before you do, let me explain, you have put me in a bad situation Son. The US government has a duty to treat the duly appointed representatives of foreign governments as guests - in hopes that our own representatives be given similar hospitality in return. That young man behind you is a foreign nations envoy allowed to enter our Country and conduct research. I would say your treatment of our guest has been: aggressive. Certainly not how I want my own people to be treated; I have enough trouble keeping relations with hostile nations amiable – you have given cause to make our most friendly neighbour angry … have you ever heard of an angry Canadian? I know I hadn’t but it seems you managed to piss them off”.
“Sir, yes sir, I can explain”
“Good, good, I hope you can. If the Border Guards don’t shoot you before you release that young man and apologize to him, I’m sure they will love hearing your explanation down at McMurdo Station’s Airport in Antarctica where you and your partners next posting is. Nod if you understand what I just said – that’s fine. Now Mr. McCoy kindly give the phone back to the Border Guard.
Agent Donnelly tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat – it didn’t go down, instead the taste of bile held on his tongue, after handing over the phone he noticed the string of Border Guards pointing their weapons at the two agents, as Donnelly slowly stepped over to the rear door of the car with his hands held high up in sight, he opened the door and asked his prisoner to exit, once outside he half-heartedly offered
“Sorry”
“Yes, you are” calmly remarked Cameron, who walked away from him, heading towards Ken and Nique.
Nique had been handed the telephone and she was engaged in a conversation acting very prim. Nique motioned Cameron over and presented the phone to him.
“Hello?” asked Cameron.
“Hello Son, this is the President of the United States, I wanted to welcome you to our Country, and express best wishes in your studies.”
“Thank you, Sir” said Cameron feeling a touch shocked.
“And; I’d like to see your report on ‘our school’, think I could get a copy of it?”
“Yes sir, I’ll make certain it gets to you.”
“When you get to Whateley, please pass along a greeting to Nikki Reilly for me, her father and I are great friends.”
“Yes sir, I’d be happy to do that. Good-bye.”
The drive through New Hampshire roads twisted within river valleys framed by treed hills, an idyllic setting for a school: serene and quiet. Dunwich was a quaint town, it held to the New England motif that Cameron was recognizing in the designs of the building they had passed. The limo arrived later in the day than had been planned and it was too late to drop Cameron off at Whateley, so Nique found a Bed and Breakfast that could accommodate them, the group was taking a walking tour of downtown to stretch their legs after having visited a restaurant the Bed and Breakfast lady recommended, it felt good to exercise muscles that had sat all day, Cameron stopped suddenly as they walked past a clothing boutique, he checked the street for traffic then walked into the middle of the road.
“There’s a watermain break! The water is making a sinkhole; could someone call an emergency number to alert the town. I’m going to try and plug the break”
Cameron looked intently at the ground and circled around where he had been standing, looking up and down the street groaning “can I get someone to provide traffic control, I’m going to have to repair the pipe for a couple blocks, it’s so rotted that it can’t hold the pressure”
Ken took position in the street in front of Cameron and directed the couple of cars that came around them.
Cameron walked slowly to the end of the street then backtracked and went two blocks down, he nearly finished when a Dunwich public works truck pulled up in front of the original leak. Cameron and Ken hastened back to provide details of what had happened. The man was the foreman and was ‘On-Call’ to handle emergencies; he listened to Cameron’s explanation and had him pace out the area that was washed out, the man then painted lines and set out barricades. Cameron took another look at the area and then followed the path of damage: the water had seeped through the foundation and had flooded the boutiques basement.
“You will need to let the owner know their basement has flooded” the saddened youth informed the Utilities man.
He flipped thru pages in a book and then dialed a number, from what he said into the phone it was obvious he had only reached an answering machine and left a message “Cecilia’s most likely at Whateley teaching dance tonight” remarked the man.
“If the water is left everything will go moldy, think she would be mad if I cleaned up?”
“If you could – I think she’d appreciate it, I can speak with her tomorrow” instructed the man.
Cameron stood outside the building, walking the length of the buildings frontage a couple times “I did the best I could, it’s dry and I tried not to mess with stuff she has stored down there”
The man shook everyone’s hand, and Veronique told him the name of their lodgings.
Sept 21, 2007. Dunwich
It was a peaceful morning, the breakfast part of the Bed and Breakfast had lovely homemade breads along with fresh jams that made Cameron’s tastebuds sing. Everyone had been seated when two men entered, The Public Works man everyone recognized, as he stood next to the table he introduced them to the Town’s mayor “Thank you for your quick thinking and resourcefulness last night, Albert here told me what you did”.
“The road settled last night and opened a void, if a car had driven over it; people could have been hurt” added Albert from Public Works
“Glad I could help” offered Cameron, as a smartly dressed lady – very pretty, entered the now crowded dining room, Albert pointed toward Cameron.
“I believe I have you to thank for saving my business last night” smiled the woman “Cameron isn’t it”
“I, umm, your welcome” sheepishly replied Cameron
“I keep so much material and equipment downstairs, if I had lost that I wouldn’t know what to do” giving Cameron a nod
“I didn’t mean to intrude; I hope everything is allright”
“I looked at it last night, it’s better than allright, I really needed to give that basement a good cleaning – you do good work, its spotless”
“Thank you” responded the boy to the praise.
“I understand you’ll be attending Whateley?”
“Yes ma-am.”
“Please, Cecilia. And I insist you let me make a school uniform for you?”
“Ohh, no ma-am” to which she gestured to correct him “sorry, Cecilia. you don’t need to do that.”
“Allow me the favour of returning the kindness you have given me.”
“Thank you then. Do you know if students get days to be able to come to town?”
“There are shuttles on weekends, you won’t be able to leave for the first couple weeks, but I am at my shop Saturday mornings – please come bye when you can. And Cameron: do you dance?”
“A little, Mom showed me a couple steps, I’m not very good.”
“Then I accept the challenge, you must sign up for dance class.”
The three guests left, leaving the table to finish up breakfast.
The limo wove thru the lanes following the directions given to find Whateley Academy, it was a distance outside of town, Cameron asked the driver: Brian, to stop at something that had caught his eye beside the road: a large patch of ground lay desolate, devoid of any growth, a tree at the patches center stood dead and withered, Cameron walked over and touched the tree with a curious look etched on his features. Ken asked what that was about, “Its an energy sinkhole, never saw anything like it before” answered Cameron.
The large fence and impressive gates indicated they had found Cameron’s destination: Whateley Academy. Atop the gates pillars sat two gargoyles whose featureless faces seemed to follow your every movement. Cameron exited the limo and began looking about which mystified his escorts who saw nothing “The school has some heavy duty shielding” Cameron informed them, he mused how violently his absorbing ability might react to touching them so decided to curtail his energy absorption to prevent an interaction until he could figure out a way to keep them apart. Ken approached the lone guard who had a little booth near the gate “Delivering a new student: Cameron Burke, might be under the Outlook”.
“One moment” directed the uniformed guard “yep, we have him as a student due to arrive. You can drive in or I can get a cart to take him up.”
Cameron decided that arriving in a diplomatic limo might be a first impression he didn’t want to have to explain, so asked if a cart could come. Cameron gathered up his few pieces of luggage and hefted his backpack containing his SI Com phone (a gift from Smith) and his laptop onto his shoulder.
He gave his heartfelt thanks to his traveling companions, Nique broke her diplomatic calm demeanour and hugged him, Ken was all about formality but when shaking Cameron’s hand Cameron pulled him in hugging his friend, saying in a whisper “You know; she was a dental hygienist going through school, she might be able to help fix that problem you have with your wisdom teeth” Ken coughed trying to suppress his laugh and shock.
Cameron cautiously walked through the schools shielding, he saw it spark and surge but eventually yielded as he slowly moved forward, placing his bags into the carts cargo racks, Cameron turned and waved farewell before hopping into the cart. The gravel driveway crunched under the carts tires, the driver pointed out the cluster of buildings as the schools’ dormitories: each named after a famous author.
The cart passed by groups of students out enjoying the sunny day between classes, the cart pulled up near to a brick building with signage stating it was the administration building. Cameron sat transfixed for a minute, his sigh leading into his saying “It’s been an adventure getting here, all roads end somewhere, and all stories start someplace.”
Cameron swung off the cart and stepped to collect his bags, his peripheral vision caught movement approaching rapidly from behind, in the time it took him to say “Bear!” the light of the world was turned off.
The End
Epilogue
Friday: Sept 21, 2007; Outside Schuster Hall
A frightfully large bear stood motionless atop the ragged body of the boy, who looked minuscule compared to the beast, it’s powerful front paws placed heavily upon the victim’s limp frame – weighting 800 pounds it’s mass alone would prevent the youth from breathing: were he even physically able to draw air in.
The massive muzzle, alert to any indicator of life, was stayed low - just millimeters away from the unflinching - unresponsive boys face. The bear lingering as it used it’s senses to ensure its target wasn’t playing possum; the painstaking scrutiny was intense as the beast sought any signs of life.
The attack had been brutal … savage perhaps. The unawares prey had been set upon from behind and been completely overwhelmed, there had been no fight and an opportunity at flight wasn’t granted. It was a predatory take down without compromise – no quarter or question as to who won.
An indignant snort was accompanied by a head shake exaggerated by the bears long fur, using a muscled foreleg the bear batted the unresponsive body beneath it - resulting in the carcass rolling around lifelessly, as a final insult the great bear reared up onto its hind legs and let fly a victorious roar.
Doyle Medical Centre
Dr. Ophelia Tenant was dressing the superficial wounds on Leroy Jacobs: aka Skyhook, the exuberant young African American man had been showing off his flight ability to impress new found friends in the Quad, the Doctor saw this same sort of thing the start of every school year – kids wanting to fit in by pushing their abilities beyond their untrained skills.
This particular boy could manifest a PK field that made him buoyant and float in the air, and while he could lift great weights airborne his field wasn’t capable of providing much protection which was apparent once he collided into a tree, nothing more than a few scrapes - and some hard-earned humiliation; which just might in the end teach him more than any course Whateley Academy offered.
Ophelia was finishing the bandage wraps on the boy’s knee, her long strands of hair skillfully passing the roll around the appendage while keeping it taunt, a few more and she’d be done bandaging him up, but that silly pager had other ideas; it vibrated and buzzed in her Doctor whites pocket drawing her attention. Before she could acknowledge its buzz a broadcast over Doyle’s public address system upped the urgency, the very tone in the voice calling her name alone said something bad had happened. Adrenaline started to kick in fueling yet another rush.
Hastily she asked Leroy to finish up his own bandage before running out the door and down the hall towards main reception: Doyle’s Emergency admitting area. While the Doyle Medical Facility was extremely well equipped: it was still a small centre, everyone had to come in through the main admitting doors. What she saw awaiting her made her want to turn around and go back to tending to the scraped knee. Ophelia had become a Doctor to help people; it was her life’s calling and passion, seeing one of Whateley Securities finest covered in blood, straddling a student as he called out the compression count for CPR, Ophelia’s first instinct told her this was not going to end well.
The first aid stretcher had been laid upon the floor, its occupant swarmed by gathering medics who transferred the rather small youth onto a gurney which halted CRP momentarily - only to resume once the providers had repositioned, the Doctor tried to collect vitals amidst the swarm of well trained nurses and orderlies, the team hurried the gurney into Trauma Room 1.
Ophelia carried great pride over the exceptional staff that had been assembled, along with the first-class medical equipment which Doyle Medical Centre boasted – any Doctor would give their eye teeth to have access to the resources Doyle had at the ready. Trauma Room 1 ignited instantly into a finely tuned orchestra with no one skipping a beat, Ophelia voice activated the internal recording system to capture events.
Dr. Tenant directed a nurse to cut away the clothes from off the boy as she began to assess the massive chest wound. The Security Officer who had been performing CPR was relieved from his efforts by a male nurse, the officer stood away: he visible shook while staring at the blood covering himself, he was spent from the exertion extended trying to preserve life - the Doctor directed a nurse to get him into a shower and instructed he get checked over – being exposed to mutant blood necessitated extra precautions.
Before he could leave the room Ophelia asked “How long ago did this happen?”
“Less than five minutes” supplied the security officer.
That was the first bit of good news, maybe this kid stood a chance after all.
“Let’s get him aerated people; careful with the neck, from that angle it’s undoubtedly broken” directed the Doctor.
The nurse who had been using a bellows bag with facemask backed away to allow another skillful nurse to hold the boys neck while an air tube was inserted down his throat, the aspirating machine was turned on with everyone watching the chest expectantly for it to rise and fall: it didn’t.
“Is the airway blocked?” questioned Ophelia.
“No Doctor, the air tube slid in without obstruction” replied the nurse.
“Prep a scope to check the lungs” she shouted over her patient.
Ophelia gently opened the chest wounds to gauge severity - while one nurse swabbed the blood to improve visibility, another nurse was applying the adhesive heart monitor leads to the few places where enough skin remained intact amidst the slash marks that had torn long gouges crisscrossing the torso.
The worst damage was directly over his heart: three distinct claw slashes intersected at one point on the chest: the heart. The flesh had been ripped deeply exposing white rib-bone; within that mess the Doctor spotted heart muscle which exponentially worsened the degree of damage inflicted, the claws had gone deep – very deep. She placed her gloved hand into the chest cavity and couldn’t feel the heart beating, looking at the heart monitor it too showed no pulse.
Panic stricken; Ophelia asked for the defibrillator to get charged and the crash cart was brought bedside, when the tone sounded ‘ready’ she shouted “Clear!” and depressed the paddles against the boy’s chest.
The anxious team watched the heart monitor as it registered a couple beats then faded away: “Again” called Ophelia, when the tone sounded ready she cried out “Clear!” with even less results when only two blips indicated heart function.
“Get me a heart simulator” within seconds another cart was wheeled in, the specialized devise would act as a pacemaker to activate and regulate the heart. Ophelia grabbed the wires within clusters of her hair and with the scalpel in hand began making precise incisions to the flesh around the heart and inserted the tipped wires against heart muscle. The machine was adjusted to mimic the heart function of a young boy and the area around the heart could be seen inside his chest, it visibly constricting as an electrical current shocked it; simulating the beat vital for sustaining life.
Ophelia timed the pulses as the lines danced across the monitor, it was irregular and weak – but beating, she checked the clock: 8 minutes – give or take, she prayed the CPR had worked and kept suppling the body oxygen.
The Trauma Team was collectively, unconsciously holding their breath as the Doctor gingerly lowered a small scope into the boy’s mouth, a monitor displaying the picture from the fibre optic camera as its light illuminated the throat wall, the tiny camera worked its way slowly down stopping only when it entered the lungs “No obstruction, lets reinsert the tube and give him 40 percent Oxygen” directed the Doctor.
Kane Hall: Whateley Security
Security Chief Franklin Delarose watched the security camera footage from near Schuster Hall yet again, playing each angle available. He rewound and replayed certain scenes exhaustively. He couldn’t find the trigger to explain what caused this to happened?
Whateley Security held responsibility for a most challenging assignment: to provide impartial on-campus security, an extra hard assignment due to the school’s charter. There had been many frustrating arguments over the years, but Delarose eventually came to understand how to saddle … not nessicarily ride the beast that was Whateley Academy. At times Whateley’s status was akin to being a nation unto itself; being neutral territory operating under the scrutiny of villain and law-enforcement alike. Security’s main duty focused upon trying to ensure the safety of those attending this school, students whose very existence drew the attention of every powerful group and organization: be they within or outside the law.
Whateley Security always needed to walk a fine line of not showing partiality: to any particular creed, in-order to uphold the schools prime concern - neutrality. Whateley Security could not enforce law - so his staff were not sworn policemen; most of them coming from military backgrounds, soldiers used to the notion of simply keeping the peace – by force if needed.
The real problem was when serious crime happened, it sent the balance askew and put his team under the microscope, all parties watching like vultures - waiting for any opportunity to gain more control and influence.
Although neutral Whateley had layers of rules to abide under: Rules crafted by the trustees to guide school operation, Laws enacted by governments for how a civilized populous should live: Tribal, State, Federal. All being weighted and deemed as acceptable for granting each person their own peace and security ... but a crime; it infringed upon another’s liberty with serious offences even costing a life. Chief Delarose was thankful that the sole person to administer judgement at Whateley was Elizabeth Carson: The Headmistress.
Delarose and his men worked under her authority - allowing them freedom to just be agents of security. But it still meant Whateley Security needed to conduct investigations, make arrests and provide confinement … all to be done equally and fairly without bias. Each offence - every conflict was walking into muddy waters, so acting rashly was Delarose’s worst enemy and finding clear indisputable proof his best hope of holding onto Whateley’s reins.
Delarose was fully aware of the clandestine surveillance he and his department was under, in a backward manner it was providing proof to all parties that no-one from any ideology was being singling out, he had grown to accept the ever-present scrutiny as part of the job.
Just as Delarose understood he needed to retain personnel ‘on the take', those whose services could be bought and to turn a blind eye; the pendulum had to swing both ways to establish balance. The Chief tried to keep the graft and scams in check rather than stopping it, since he saw the bigger picture at play… a vision that his second in command: Admiral Everhart, was as yet unable to fully grasp. The ongoing argument between them about the need to bring the men ‘in line’ showed that his second hadn’t figured Whateley out.
The familiar knock on the office door announced Sam Everhart’s arrival “Come in Sam” called out the Chief and pointed the young looking female Admiral towards a chair across from his desk.
“You have the look of a man expecting bad news” supplied Everhart.
“Trust me, I’d love to get some good news right now?” ground out Delarose
“I’ve got to disappoint you Chief, my preliminary investigation hasn’t revealed anything new” was Sam’s response “and word is spreading around campus that the school is under attack”
“Gear up squad Four heavy - and do a perimeter sweep” directed Whateley Securities supervisor “best not to take any chances.”
“On it” confirmed Sam as she exited the office.
Doyle Medical Centre
The last few hours had drained the Doctor to beyond exhaustion, cleaning the deep cuts and trying to seal up the long gouges was painstakingly slow, Ophelia had had to resort to stitches to draw the flesh closed when her healing spells had no effect, the body laying before her looked like a patchwork quilt.
Watching the monitors intently, checking once more if her patient was stable, Dr. Tenant finally left the room which looked as if a tornado had swept through it, shaking her head sadly that the results weren’t as promising as she had hoped. Ophelia slowly stretched her aching muscles as tresses of hair massaged her shoulders, she untied her surgical mask enjoying the breath of fresh air, next freeing her hands of the surgical gloves she stepping up to the wash basin - started the water and built up a lather.
“How’s it look Doc?” Chief Delarose’s booming voice startled the Doctor, peeling her away from that place of routine which only comes from doing something so often it becomes second nature. He stood next to her in what had to be a long-practiced stance, giving her space but not letting her avoid his presence either.
“It’s too early to tell, the kid was dead when he came in the doors, he is on life support now” assessed Ophelia “Tomorrow! I’ll see if he’s breathing on his own.”
“How do you classify the injuries ?”
“With you asking that question: I have to say it was an assault with intent to kill; we’ll know soon enough if you have a murder on your hands.” claimed the Doctor “Does my patient have a name ?”
“His school file has him registered under ‘Outlook’” supplied Delarose.
Kane Hall
Franklin Delarose shook his head in frustration, hating how Whateley Security held the double-edged responsibility of protecting some of the more frighteningly powerful mutants in the world, while at the same time having to police some of the more frighteningly powerful mutants in the world.
There were days that retirement sounded like a mighty fine idea.
“Chief: I just got in. Nothing happening along the school’s barrier, no incursions and no sign of invaders.” Informed Sam speaking through his open door
“We had to check.” Detailed Delarose, grimacing at the news “Did you have time to take a look at the security footage from outside Schuster?”
“I saw it”
“Notice anything odd?”
“I suspect you’re asking about that second when the boy stiffened - just before being collided into?”
“You spotted that too? good. What do you make of it ?”
“Kid might have a weak danger sense, or empath. But if he knew it was coming … why didn’t he react?”
“Can’t postpone it any longer, we need to try and glean what triggered this ?” Intoned Delarose as he and Everhart approached the small meeting room, the shared look between them braced each other for the task at hand as they entered.
The avatar bear sat in the chair which was tipped back leaning it against the wall, giving the two Whateley Security officers who entered the room a toothy grin that exposed fangs.
Saturday: September 22, 2007; Whateley Academy
Ophelia greeted dawn by rolling over and muttering; “Just five more minutes”.
As she lay there; warm and cozy under the blankets, her mind began to race. Being a Doctor is much like being obsessed – be that true: Ophelia had a bad case of OCD.
Elizabeth Carson had kindly informed her on many occasions that she needed to take some time off and get rested, but instead; here she was, worried about a young boy on deaths door on her first day off since early August.
Preparing for the day, she stood in front of her closet befuddled by a decision ‘work duds or casual?’ when her thoughts demanded to know how the boy had faired through the night, instinctively her hand reached for the familiar medical garb.
The walk from the small but functional staff house in the village over to Doyle only took a couple minutes, she passed a few other staff members with the exchanging of ‘Good Mornings’ and to the few students she passed who greeted her with either a wave or a “Hi Doc” as the youngsters darted off to an early morning class.
Walking into Doyle, Ophelia noted with relief to see it was quiet, she had discovered long ago that the ‘best days’ were those in which she had nothing to do. Checking in at reception to verify the current status, she walked the short distance to the Medical Centre’s specialized Critical Care Unit that she had Outlook moved into last night. Rounding the rooms doorway, she was mystified to find it empty, hurrying back to the nurse’s station she quickly ran her finger down the folders of patients and found Outlook’s file.
That mornings duty nurse approached as Ophelia read the charts, “Bonny; do you know where Outlook is?” Asked the Doctor
“Opie: you’re supposed to have the day off remember?” Scolded the nurse.
“I know, I know … but the poor kid is in such bad shape.”
“Security came in in a panic after you'd left last night, they had the night shift move your patient to one of the warded rooms downstairs. I can put his stats up on the board for you?”
Ophelia nodded her thanks, she was irked that a critical care patient was getting juggled about – but was willing to give Delarose and his group the benefit of the doubt. Watching the board made her heart sink and a sigh followed as her disappointment was manifest; he was not improving – his condition had worsened in the last few hours, the electrically dictated heartbeat was losing its effectiveness and the hearts beating had slowed and even skipped one of every four pulsations; if not for the highly sensitive electrodes being used you wouldn’t even find a pulse.
Bonny allowed her some time to digest the boards readout before mentioning “Security will be bringing some students by later this morning.”
“He’s in no shape for visitors!” commented the disturbed physician.
“I was told they are needed to help verify something for Security, they’re slated to be here in an hour – enough time for you to get some coffee, OH! try the Danish; their de-lish. Now shoo!” spoke the friendly nurse giving the Doctor orders.
The warded room wasn’t designed to handle a critical patient, the various machines being employed to keep the young man alive had to be placed upon wheeled carts then positioned in an array that nearly surrounded the bed, wires and tubes ran everywhere and the equipments power cords filled all electrical outlets available in the hallway, the room was stark and windowless, mystic glyphs etched onto the walls.
Ophelia had taken Bonny’s advice and was better off for it, although; a half cup of cold coffee now sat on the corner of one of the wheeled carts near the door, Ophelia had been attending to her patient, checking and re-checking connections and responses, she barely heard the knock on the door announcing the visitor’s arrival.
“Doctor, Is it possible to allow myself and some students to come in. I require their assistance with my investigation” spoke the Security Chief.
Ophelia grimaced but had to acknowledge that he had the grace to ask: which only helped reinforce that she liked the man, he might at times be gruff and too harsh for her taste, and he certainly sent plenty of business Doyle’s direction, but he had a job to get done and she knew very well that he was good at keeping the kids safe, and she respected that.
“Can I stay and keep an eye on my patient ?” requested Ophelia.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way” remarked the big man as he stepped into the room, calling down the hall he asked “Nikki, Kayda, Mrs. Grimes. Would you come in please”?
The two second-year Mystic Arts program girls were skittish as they entered followed by the teacher, all three-hanging close to the wall nearest to the door, each face conveyed a feeling of wariness, fear, and curiosity.
Delarose had ceded that Kayda was one of the best suited Wizards available to discover if Mythos magic was at play and begrudgingly included her. But also asked her teacher to be an observer as he had no clue about finger-wiggling.
“As I mentioned to you on the way over; I would like you to tell me if this person is a user of magic, particularly if it’s Mythos magic?” As soon as Delarose mentioned Mythos magic, Ophelia’s hair stood on end and she too moved further away from the unmoving patient.
Upon the Chiefs invitation Nikki Reilly cautiously approached, while she didn’t draw upon the Mythos - she had encountered its stain enough to feel when it was present, along with her ability to see leylines and collect essence at will: it made Fey an obvious choice for identifying magical entities and sources.
Nikki circled the room ever mindful of the rooms occupant, keeping the bank of medical instruments positioned between her and the prone body at the rooms center, she took great care observing the room and the wards upon the walls. Returning to stand close to the door the redhead gave her head a shake to the negative, the movement allowed her luxuriant red tresses to bounce about her face “The only magic present is limited to that which was brought in by Kayda, the Doctor, Mrs Grimes and myself, the wards are preventing anything from entering or leaving”. Not having found any hint of magic with the boy she added “Quoting the vernacular, he’s a Null”.
Kayda was encouraged to step forward next: responding to the Chief’s gesture of invitation. Carrying a small wooden bowl Kayda asked Nikki to hold onto it as she withdrew from the sheath on her belt a decorated ceremonial blade, nervously she moved between the life support equipment and approached the bed – looking over to the Doctor and then her teacher, she indicated her need to cut some hair, Ophelia nodded in acceptance and Mrs. Grimes granted her permission understanding what was needed.
Using the ceremonial knife Kayda sliced off a few strands of hair, returning to stand beside Nikki she then placed some water, the hair, and a pinch of herbs from out of her deerskin pouch into the bowl. After a brief incantation; a spark of light and a puff of vapour rose from the bowl. Almost breaking into tears the Native American girl said in a pained - near disappointed voice “No indication of Mythos magic, his hair would show its presence on him like a fingerprint - no history of essence at all”.
Nikki Reilly, the Sidhe girl also known as Fey gave her friend a comforting one armed hug to relieve some of the obvious tension while the two moved toward the exit. Seeing an opportunity Dr. Tenant made a request: “Fey, could you try casting a healing spell. I tried making several yesterday without success, would you please try?” Nikki looked into the eyes of the pleading Doctor then down upon the near dead figure on the bed, after struggling with what looked like a debate - she nodded affirmatively.
Kayda moved to the wall bracing her back against it - as Fey stepped into the corridor to be free of the protective wards. Ophelia provided the powerful mage some insight “Life support is keeping him alive, a machine is telling his heart to keep beating due to all the damage it’s taken, he’s being aspirated to force his lungs to work, he has a broken neck, and multiple deep cuts mostly on his chest”.
Kayda gulped upon hearing the detailed list of injuries sustained, and Nikki held a shocked look as she slumped from the dire prognosis, nodding her head in understanding.
The Sidhe queen spoke a series of words then set about gathering the essence she needed and collected it into a healing spell, from the positioning of her hands it was quite a large working, re-entering the room she moved near to the rooms focus and sent out her casting towards the stricken youth’s chest. Fey watched as the accumulated essence merely fizzled like a deflating balloon to then end with a tiny pop as it faded completely. She turned in puzzlement to Ophelia and her Teacher saying “I don’t understand what just happened. It didn’t work.”
Ophelia’s hope was dashed “Thanks for trying dear” she gave as reassurance to cover her own disappointment.
Chief Delarose released both Kayda and Nikki, ushering them out of the room with Mrs. Grimes following to give support and debrief them about the experience. After thanking them for their assistance in the hallway, the Chief next directed another youth to enter; which really surprised the Doctor that more investigation was required. Paige Donner stepped into the room.
“Are you able to tell me if this person is a Were?” Delarose asked.
Paige sniffed at the air and assumed a confused expression; she shifted to her Werecat form, then with fluid ease moved between the machines surrounding the bed and began gathering a scent, the sleek black cat moved away from the bed and retook her human form. “He is not a Were, but he has been marked.”
“What do you mean ‘marked’” questioned Delarose.
“I’m not completely familiar with everything ‘Were’ but as I understand it - a female has claimed him” supplied Paige, the confused expressions upon the other rooms occupants faces required her to say more “I can’t explain it all too well, there are intricacies of Were society I haven’t had fully explained to me, it’s just that he’s carrying a scent, it was told to me he’d be welcome in the tribe. Maybe my step-folks can explain it to you better?” informed Paige.
“Do you know who’s scent is on him?” was the next logical question to be asked and the Chief beat Ophelia to it.
“I’m not familiar with who marked him” revealed Paige.
Ophelia finally received clearance from Security allowing her to return Outlook into a Critical Care room, she established a vigil to keep his condition monitored and she was to be notified at any changes.
Returning home, she stood under the soothing spray of the showers pulsating nozzle; deep in thought, her ‘quick’ shower turned into forty-five minutes before she noticed the water cooling and stepped out. She had mentally reviewed every possible treatment she could think of, berating herself in concern that she might have missed something – forgotten something.
Firing up her computer Ophelia searched for a potential solution, an article in a medical journal about a boy in Western Canada that could reconstruct bone and muscle caught her eye for it’s potential merit but quickly passed it over. She skimmed over to the heart transplant site resulting in her interest being piqued: the waiting list was long since donors were hard to come by – but it was at least a chance, which is more than what she had a minute ago, Scrolling through the requirements for transplant: she was aghast to discover that each patient needed to have a mental assessment before being considered for viability and only then be placed on the wait list. Ophelia jumped to her feet and shouted into the air “LOUIS, I need you”.
The mental representation of Louis Geintz appeared in her living room, wearing a corduroy sports coat, faded jeans and a well worn pair of moccasin slippers, he stood for a second with a shocked expression - then turned around “Doctor – Please.”
Ophelia drew closed her bathrobe in embarrassment “Louis: can you make a mental assessment of a patient?”
“That would be more Dr. Bellows specialty, why do you ask”?
“I have a boy in Doyle who is dying, my last hope is to get him a heart transplant, for that I need to get a mental assessment of him … Louis; he’s unresponsive, I need you to go in and gauge his mind.”
“Ophelia, I…” and there it was, that look of desperation; the look that FUBAR had seen too often in his lifetime – on so many faces, be it on one of the students in Hawthorne, upon teachers grasping at straws, and if he was to be honest … at times in the reflection of his fish bowl. “I’ll meet you at Doyle” he finally offered.
The fierceness of determination rose within Ophelia “I’ll be there in five!”
“Make it thirty, so you can get something to eat first and it’s a deal” bartered Louis. Opie’s ‘drive’ was the stuff of legend – that and her habit of forgetting the simple things; like food.
Louis Geintz stood with Ophelia in the Critical Care room, the boys sad small figure lay on the bed amid tubes and wires: pale and unmoving surrounded by beeping equipment. Ophelia checked and assessed the monitors as if begging the blips to do more than indicate a life fading away. The Doctor pointed her little flashlight into the unresponsive clouded white eyes which provided no hint of reaction. Looking at her possible salvation she asked “Anytime Louis ?”
“That’s just it Ophelia, I’ve been trying; there’s nothing there to work with, just blank walls” hating to break that information to her “I’m so sorry!”
Ophelia broke into tears, and grabbed onto Louis as she sobbed; wailing in disappointment. Maybe the shoulder she was crying on didn’t exist, and maybe a Doctor should have more separation from a patient, but right then: the biggest hearts on campus were in that room, and Opie’s was breaking.
Sunday: September 23, 2007; Doyle Medical Centre
Ophelia was trying to not think about the boy in Critical Care, but her rounds had her pass that open door too many times during the course of the day, she knew what needed to be done but any little distraction was excuse enough to avoid entering.
The usual afternoon rush had passed – odd to think it usual to have a stream of teenaged patients coming in with breaks, strains, and sprains as being usual; but Martial Arts held classes on the weekend and the new students always took a beating ... unfortunately too literally.
The clock approached four, and Ophelia resigned herself to her dreaded task, asking Bonny to assist her since she was the one nurse she knew who wouldn’t doubt or question the decision that really had no other option. They entered Critical Care room 1 and unplugged the life support machines, without the electrical stimulation the patient’s heart ceased beating resulting in the monitors lines riding flat across the screen. At three fifty in the afternoon of September the twenty third, in the year twenty ot seven: Alex Cameron Burke was pronounced dead.
Bonny solemnly assisted Ophelia in disconnecting all the wires that had kept the boy artificially alive, and the two-bore witness on the documentation announcing the boy deceased. Ophelia sought to take the body down to the morgue against Bonny’s saying an orderly could do it “No Bon, I need to do this – it’ll give me closure” said the Doctor not wanting to feel numb but not giving way to tears either.
Doyle’s basement housed a small but regrettably too often used morgue, the refrigerated little room felt colder than it actually was, Ophelia moved the rolling bed through the door and positioned it against a wall. Ophelia placed the young boy’s few personal belongings underneath the gurney for processing at the mortuary.
Lieutenant Simeon Trout had been keeping an eye on the happenings in Doyle with great interest, ever since he’d done an online search for ‘Outlook’ he had been secretly working out the details of a grand scheme which would be a score that could have him set for life. The carrot being dangled before his eyes was a bounty tallied at two and a half million for proof positive on the death of one Cameron Burke: aka Outlook.
He nearly jumped through the screen when he saw Dr. Tenant wheeling the body down to the morgue.
Monday: September 24, 4:30 am; Doyle Medical Centre Loading Dock
Lieutenant Trout had fought over the need to bring in some help to pull off a heist, greed won out over caution. The Lieutenant had disabled the security cameras viewing Doyle’s basement and loading area; putting them into a playback loop – something he’d done hundreds of times before throughout the school’s security network and been paid handsomely for doing it. He backed his truck up to the loading dock behind Doyle, then noiselessly crept into the building using the falsified entry codes he possessed.
Ensuring nobody saw him he took the stairs down to the basement and walked up to the morgues door. Opening the heavily insulated door he used a flashlight to find the body within, it was resting atop a gurney inside a plastic body bag, he unzipped the bag uncovered the boys face and took photo’s of the deceased along with the death certificate.
Trout decided the kid was small enough that he could carry the body upstairs to the waiting truck instead of risking using the gurney and an elevator. Wrapping the boy’s body in the blanket he hoisted him onto his shoulder, he didn’t bother with shutting the door behind him as he lugged the dead weight up the stairs. Moving cautiously through the hallways he backed into the door pushing it open.
Approached his vehicle he allowed the body to drop into the truck bed, he straightened up in time to hear “Freeze!” Franklin Delarose’s unmistakable voice bellowed as it echoed around the loading dock, it brought panic to Simeon who simply held still as four darkened figures moved in closer with guns at the ready - pointing nowhere other than directly at him.
“Is showing disrespect for the dead an offence” asked one of the men positioned in the confining circle around Trout.
“I’ll see if there isn’t something that’ll stick” said Delarose as one of his men put Trout into handcuffs. Chief Delarose directed that Lt. Trout be taken and confined at Kane Hall, that he would be along shortly to start the paperwork.
Delarose stood over the enshrouded body lying in the trucks bed, bending low he scooped the light weight boy into his arms then stood cradling it. He grunted as he stepped over the tailgate onto the loading dock, then entered Doyle, the Chief cradled the body in his arms as he carried it back down the stairs to the cool room it had been stolen from, he set the bag gently upon the gurney. Chief Delarose straightened; removing his beret and bowed his head, holding his stance for a moment, then turned to leave the room.
“gah - Louis! Are you trying to give me a heart attack ?”
FUBAR assessed the Chief for a second “Sorry Frank, I forget that people can’t hear my walking or breath” as he stood in the doorway.
“What’s got you wandering the campus tonight?”
“Ophelia cried herself to sleep tonight. So much emotion … it’s hard to ignore.”
“She’s got a heart of gold that one, it will be her undoing.”
“She put everything she had into trying to save this boy, it wasn’t enough. To have your limitations pushed and find yourself lacking, it’s a hard pill to swallow. ”
“The poor kid didn’t stand a chance, his heart was pretty near torn out of his chest… sorry - had you known the boy ?”
“No, not really. But I - I wanted to… needed to say goodbye” revealed Louis
“We end up losing some each year” surrendered Delarose.
“You can’t fool me Frank, don’t even try and trivialize this.”
“What would you have me do Louis? I’ve seen too much pain over my career!”
“I get that Frank, but still - this hurts you: whenever one of these children you’ve sworn to protect dies, You carry guilt and blame yourself”
Franklin Delerose stood silent collecting his thoughts “I failed him Louis, I let this happen on my watch”
“Could you honestly have done anything to keep it from happening ?”
“Had I known he had enemies … maybe, but we had no warning!, there are plenty of feuds between students but they can be headed off from escalating. There doesn’t seem to ba any reason for his death - and the motive being given is doubtful.” Cursing under his breath “Damnit - there was one of my men right beside the kid when it happened.”
“This is burning you up inside”
“Darn straight, his attacker will receive what? A week detention and end up raking leaves or some such.” Complained Delarose “How is his family supposed to feel about that for justice ? We’re talking about taking somebodies life!”
“Whateley’s absolved from harm to students” offered Fub.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be! Administration and the School Trustee’s have taken the value of life and reduced it to a; a - minor inconvenience at best! Just what kind of lesson is it we’re teaching these kids ?”
“We’re trying to help them survive in a world that hates them”
“Look at how that turned out for Outlook here!” Said Delarose with a degree of scorn as he pointed at the body “I worry we’re just demonstrating to these kids that rules don’t apply to them ! That mutants are above the law !”
“Frank, you know how this school needs to operate - no favouritism.”
“You’re right Louis, it’s just that it’s a sore point for me …”
“And you’d normally find solace at the bottom of a bottle.”
“But the Doctors told me if I kept up that habit it would kill me.”
“Have you considered chess as an alternate ?”
“I’m more of a checkers man.”
“I’m flexible, you know where to find me.”
“Give me an hour, paperwork never rests.”
Franklin Delarose closed the morgues door as he left, leaving Louis alone in the cold room.
Standing beside the body FUBAR lowered his eyes and considered the pain wrought upon his friends.
As the Psychic Arts teacher was deep in thought, his gaze cast over the corpse, a blinding golden aura began to emit above the body causing the encasing bag to dissolve, the intense light expanding outward to encompass the whole body, a brilliant flash suddenly occurred saturating the room within the golden hue. Louis Geintz backed away - pressing his manifested body up against the wall in shock. As the illumination subsided the exposed body was glowing gold as Louis watched the many scars fade until the skin held no blemish.
The boys eyes opened revealing shining eyes but the emitted light was pale against the rooms glow, the boy lay on the gurneys surface blinking a couple times before rotating his head toward Louis with the boys face holding a questioning look.
“Are you here to kill me - again ?”
The End