"Everyone inside!" Valdoon shouted. "We have the civilians!" He ducked another spray of fire from the Rec with the semi-automatic rifle. There were boxes of grenades scattered about too, it would only be a matter of time before one was hit...

Mendi saw the Rec pull the pin.

"Get down!!' He dove, tackling Anderson. The grenade landed short of them, near one of the broken-open boxes. Mendi tried to shield Anderson as the grenade went off, triggering the explosives in the box.

The blast knocked everyone left outside down, hot shrapnel flew everywhere. 23, monitoring the eyecams and bioscans, suddenly felt his heart drop into his boots.

"Doc! We have more casualties!" He lurched from his seat to help get them in.

Mendi was half-carrying Anderson, they were both spattered with burns and blood, 23 couldn't tell whose; but Anderson looked bad.

"We have everyone, Colonel," M'Kinzie reported from the

transport.

"Alright, move out. Doctor, how many casualties?"

"Five," Helding replied, preoccupied with her patients.

Valdoon drove faster.

### *** ###

Back at base, under the City, the medteams were ready,

wheeling the wounded off to the Infirmary, Valdoon following. 23

was on his heels out the door, but an odd sound made him stop; he stumbled and leaned back into the vehicle.

"Hey, Mendi, you coming?" The big weapons officer wasn't moving. 23 climbed in. "Mendi?"

Mendi opened his eyes, tried to stand. 23 rushed forward, but was too late to catch him as Mendi fell heavily to the deck. 23 groped for a pulse and shouted for the medics.

It took four of them to lift Mendi up onto the gurney, 23 more a hindrance than a help. Undaunted by the exasperated looks the medtechs shot him, 23 trotted along behind them to Medlab 1.

"We have another one, Dr. Helding." The doctor glanced up, then swore under her breath.

"Coulson, get Dr. McLendon in here, stat! Her number's in the machine, just phone her over. Levine, Herris, get him prepped.'

"What happened, 23?" Valdoon asked, moving over to stand out of the way beside the Lt. Colonel.

"Must've been hit like the others; his scan jogged a little, but his readings are always strange and then he came in carrying Anderson, and I just assumed he was okay..."

Valdoon groaned. "It's not your fault, Craig. His pain tolerance..."

"Did more harm than good this time." 23 winced as the techs cut away Mendi's uniform, exposing the wounds on his back, right arm and legs, all of which bled profusely as the fabric was

lifted off.

"Where is he?" called an unfamiliar voice. A tall, burgundy-haired woman in a lab coat pushed her way to Mendi's table. 23 thought she looked awfully familiar, though her name hadn't dislodged a memory. "Bloody hell, what happened to him?"

"Ah, good, Dr. McLendon; that's Michael Mendi; he's half

Recessive. Hit by shrapnel. We encountered some Recs who had found an old weapons cache." Helding wiped her forearm across

her brow. "Come on, Anderson, hang in there. How are the

others doing, Coulson?"

"Lost one of the civilians, Bower and Hughes, Doctor.

Telasner, Bommerson and the other civilians are stable." The

tech sounded weary.

"Damn," said both doctors together. Three lives lost, with

two more hanging in the balance.

Mendi started to scream.

"Tom, 23, get out!" Helding ordered. 23 fled, not noticing

if Valdoon followed or not.

*** ### ***

The airflow around the convex head of the tube-train was

within acceptable parameters when the operator maneuvered the

train at speeds up to 65 kph. When the ratios were increased to 100kph, the airflow was no longer in the parameters. Jacine chewed on the end of her track-pen and started to reconfigure her computations. So much had been lost or forgotten. How did the old engineers do it?

She was deeply involved when a mild shock from her wrist comp indicated there was an emergency message for her. Straightening, her thoughts momentarily awry, Jacine looked at the code. The page was from an Island City terminal -- not Michael's but probably still RCF. Jacine was suddenly very worried; she could think of only one reason why the RCF would send out an emergency page for her.

Putting down the track-pen, Jacine looked at her fellow engineer sitting across the way, deep in his own set of computations. "Siu, I've got to make a comcall; I'll be right back." Siu spared her enough attention to nod that he'd heard. Jacine headed for one of the secure rooms with comsets.

Jacine dialed the number on the pager without looking at it again. The screen cleared to show a tired-looking, sandy-haired man dressed in grimy RCF fatigues. She glanced automatically at the tags; the name was unreadable, but the rank was Colonel. There was a moment's pause before he looked up at the screen.

"HL-1; Colonel Valdoon."

Jacine paled slightly. Michael's commander. "I'm Jacine Mendi. I recieved an emergency page from this number?"

"Yes..." The Colonel cleared his throat. "Your brother has you listed as next-of-kin..."

"He was injured during a rescue earlier today. The doctors are operating now. His condition is listed as 'critical'."

Jacine's relief that Michael was still alive was almost

enough for her to overlook the fact that "critical" was serious. She closed her eyes while all the various emotions whirled around. When she opened them again, her heart was no longer in her boots, but she was still worried. "How soon before they'll know anything?"

The Colonel glanced to the left of the comscreen, then back at her. "Dr. McLendon gave an estimate of 'several hours' for the surgery. You can talk with one of the doctors after that."

Jacine's mind clicked on the name. Tamlynn McLendon.

Harried and tired. 'I'm researching a plague -- I need help.' Cats. Plants. VR. (Oh my!) 'I also help out when the RCF needs another medical doctor.' A grin with honesty, a survivor. She'll keep him alive if anybody can. "Can I come down now and wait?"

"It'll be a long wait, are you sure, Miss Mendi?"

She smiled grimly. "Well, I can't go back to work now. And it'll probably take me an hour just to get a Gate into Island City. I am definitely coming down, I was just wondering who I would see when I get there, and where the best place to wait for Ta...Dr. McLendon would be." Read that as 'The best place to harry the doctor...'

Valdoon rubbed his eyes and glanced over at his readouts again, punched a few buttons, then looked back. "I'll post notice that you're coming down, Miss Mendi. One of my people will meet you at RCF Gate B, Delta-5, if you would let us know when you arrive in the City."

Jacine managed to summon up a smile. "Thank you very much, Colonel." She reached to disconnect, but Valdoon spoke again. "Miss Mendi, your brother is a very valuable member of our team and a good man. You have my sincere hopes that he recovers."

Jacine mumbled another thank-you and a good-bye, then severed the connection. In the small comset room, she laid her head down on her arms and began to cry.

*** ### ***

Colonel Valdoon looked at the desk com and sighed. He

hated giving bad news to families, but it could have been worse. He had phoned the families of Bower and Hughes first, and had to tell them that their sons and husbands were dead. Michael's condition was still unsure, but... He sighed again and opened his door. 23 was hovering in front of it, about to knock. For once 23 managed to recover somewhat gracefully. Valdoon raised an eyebrow. 23 shrugged. Valdoon gestured and they both headed down to the main control room.

Reporting in a tired voice, 23 updated the Colonel on the bunker situation, now that all the recorded data had been downloaded from the HL van into the main files. He concluded shakily, "I think we'd better ask for some explosives specialists when General Mede sends the replacements for Bower and Hughes.

Rubbing his forehead, Valdoon agreed. He added, "I just finished calling their families. Mrs. Hughes will come to claim her son's body for a private funeral. Mrs. Bower wants to have her husband's services with full RCF honors."

"Did you call Michael's family?"

Valdoon paused to peer over a technician's shoulder. He replied, "And Anderson's. Mendi's sister will be coming over here to wait for the results of the surgery. I'm going to get someone from Admin to meet her. Anderson's son will stay at home with the grandkids until the doctor calls him." He started walking again.

"Jacine's coming here?" 23 stopped momentarily, then hurried to catch up. But Valdoon had stopped to look at him. They collided.

Emitting an "Ouch" as 23's elbow managed to catch him on a bruise, Valdoon steadied both of them and backed up a step. "Do you know her?"

The shorter man shrugged, both in answer to the question and in apology for the collision. "Only from listening to Michael talk about her -- they're very close." He hesitated, then offered, "I could meet her. Now that I've finished the download, I was just going to pace around in the Officers' Lounge anyway."

Valdoon gave him a tired, sympathetic smile. "You ought to

go back to your quarters and rest."

"No..." 23 looked down at the floor. "I want to be there,

even if I can't do anything."

"All right. I asked her to call when she got here. If

you'll stay in the Snake Pit, Connie will let you know when she

calls."

23 didn't quite manage to hide a smile at the commander's

use of the unit's nickname for the Officers' Lounge. Valdoon saw

it and returned a quirk of a grin.

*** ### ***

After Jacine contacted her mother and the others at the Caves to let them know what was happening, she headed back to the Engineering section.

"Family emergency. My brother's hurt. I'll be back when you see me."

Siu looked up in surprised concern. "Which brother?"

Jacine started out the door. "The one in the RCF."

"Figures." Siu put down his console and started heading for

another door. "I'll let Management know and take care of the paperwork."

His words trailed off far behind Jacine, but she still heard them and was as grateful as she could be under the circumstances. She limped to the nearest Gate -- the executive one that was twice as expensive as a normal Gate only because of its accessibility -- and transferred to one as near as she could get to her house. From there she took a people-mover to her block

and walked the rest of the way. Wren greeted her as she walked in, but the greeting was subdued.

Jacine paused briefly. "You've talked with Oracle, I see." Taking a quick look around the living room, she determined nothing she needed was there and proceeded to the bedroom. She tossed a few shirts and pants in a knapsack, then picked up an old stuffed owl and carefully put it in as well. I'll crash for the night in Michael's quarters, and then I'll ask Tamlynn if I can stay at her place so I won't be in Michael's way while he's recovering. I suppose I could also ask Jonathan, but I'd really rather not.

Reminded, she limped to the computer room and typed a message to anybody who inquired of her that she would not be online for a few days. She carefully closed and locked the computer room doors, then looked around the dining room. ScarFace was sunning himself in front of the patio door. He flicked a tongue at her approach, but made no other move. Jacine leaned down and petted his smooth skin. "Wren, when did I last feed Scar-Face?"

"About three days ago. He'll do until you get back." The computer's voice hesitated, then added, "Jacine? Could you please hook a cat up to the medical diagnostic machines? We'd really like to keep tabs on how Michael's doing, and if you're in Island City, you may not be able to call out to us."

'Us' meaning her and the others at the Caves. How am I going to hook up a cat if I can't get into the Surgery room? "I'll see what I can do. I'd better get going now."

"Give our love and support to Michael." Wren sounded like

she was going to add more, but didn't. Jacine hefted the

knapsack and left the house.

*** ### ***

The main Gate terminus wasn't very crowded in her own city,

but, as she had expected, the Island City main terminus was on a

waiting list. She fretted, but knew that this was not a time to use the emergency code that would allow her to bypass the others. She could be patient for thirty minutes. Or at least I can wear a path on the carpet, pacing. A limp-drag path on the left, and a regular pattern on the right. Side-winders have interesting track patterns. Can they slither if they break their tails? Wandering the Tangent Lines, Jacine didn't have any problem waiting. She deliberately kept her mind from speculating on how badly hurt her brother was, and the other, darker thoughts beyond. She would be no good to anybody if she got caught in a Stream.

Her turn finally came. A voice came over the PA system, "Jacine Mendi -- Gate A3. Jacine Mendi -- Gate A3." She walked over to that Gate and verified that the Island City code had been programmed in. Activating the system, the blank wall in front of her rippled with rainbow colors, then cleared to a scene of the Island City terminus; much busier and more crowded than her own. Jacine stepped forward. Her vision blurred and she saw rainbow sparkles instead of Island City. Her sense of time stretched out until it seemed a minute before she finished her step through the Gate. Behind her, the synthetic voice murmured, "Thank you for using Long-Distance Sprint."

Jacine looked around her. She hadn't been in Island City for over a year. At that time, Michael had been working at the main RCF headquarters under General Mede. Currently, he was in an HL unit. For most of that year, Jacine had been in Morocco, working on the Tangier Project. Michael had kept in touch with her through comcalls, but she hadn't had an opportunity to Gate over and meet his new unit. She hated to depend on strangers; being raised in a isolated family, she hadn't known any strangers until she and Michael had moved to Island City. Biting her lip, she moved over to the line of phones and waited for a free one. She punched in the general HL number, rather than the Colonel's direct line, and informed the dark-haired admin on the other end that she was in the City. True to his word, Colonel Valdoon had left instructions regarding her, and the woman had been waiting. The Lieutenant made the appropriate connections on her communications board and told Jacine that Lt. Colonel Craig-23 would be waiting for her at the Gate. Jacine's eyebrows raised up; first one, then the other. A Lieutenant Colonel will meet me? For the seventh time, she wondered, Can you call a number a name? Then her eyebrows snapped down again as she remembered that Michael considered the Lt. Colonel a friend. He's probably also waiting for news about Michael and was looking for something to do.

She waited for an open local Gate, and transferred to RCF Gate B, Delta-5. No-one was there, and she paced in the corridor for a minute until a slight, brown-haired figure came hurrying around the corner. He clipped the edge of the corner with his shoulder, but mostly ignored it, other than grimacing and rubbing the sore spot.

23 anticipated some sort of comment on his clumsiness from the young blond woman in front of him, but she said nothing, just patiently waited for him. He looked at her with a bit more curiosity. I think I'm going to like her. Of course, she is Michael 's sister, why would I think that I wouldn't?

"Hi, I'm 23." The man extended his hand with a faint smile. Jacine had the impression that his smile would have been brighter if he hadn't been so worried.

"Jacine." She shook his hand and grinned inwardly at herself for thinking his skin temperature should be warmer. He

was a few inches taller than herself, short compared to her brother, but then few people could match Michael's seven feet. If he'd been in the same action as her brother and Colonel Valdoon, he'd changed uniforms since, but he still looked tired and worn out. His dark hair was askew -- apparently his change of uniform hadn't included a hairbrush. Jacine almost smiled, but didn't. His warm brown eyes were studying her, but behind the initial interest was worry and concern. She liked him for it. She took note of the electronic diagnostic tools at his belt, and the augmented compuset -- much like her own. Flicking a glance down to his hands, she saw that his nails were kept carefully trimmed with a couple of millimeters of length, just right for doing delicate work with small items. Suddenly she looked back to his eyes; Deep brown, with those little deep maroon flakes in the irises... I've seen those eyes before. Well, at least one of them. Craig's left eye was blue. Did he have a brother? Ho' up--Craig? Craig-23. Humm. She raised one shoulder at the coincidence of names and dropped it in a miniscule shrug as she abandoned that line of thought as counterproductive at the moment.

23 saw a young girl (he knew she was 28 -- less than half his own 65 years), who looked remarkably like her brother. In her, the features were rendered favorably. 23 wouldn't have any problem labeling her as 'pretty'; especially with her honeyblonde hair and interesting blue-green eyes. They looked more green at the moment, but he thought that they probably changed with the intensity of her emotions. She must have come straight from some sort of maintenance job, for she was wearing a collared black shirt with no drafty areas where the implant holes usually were, and her jeans had oil and other smears on the sides where she'd wiped her hands. The only unusual things about her clothing were the tall, above-knee black boots, though they looked well-used and functional, and a silver necklace. She had managed to wash her hands sometime between now and when she had wiped them on her pants, but there were still some dark stains

on her fingers that would need serious scrubbing to get out. Her fingernails were kept short, and 23 approved of the practicality. Her hair curled around her face in waves, but didn't extend past her shoulders. Too bad, she'd look better with long hair. She wore no obvious makeup, though there seemed to be a touch of gloss on her lips. 23 noted that her eyes were red and puffy from recent crying, and he was abruptly reminded about Michael.

He turned to one side and gestured. "This way to the

Snake Pit."

Jacine's eyebrows rose. "The Snake Pit?"

"Oops. I mean the Officers' Lounge."

"Is that supposed to be disparaging to snakes? I warn you, I've got a pet boa." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she spoke.

23 got the distinct impression he was being teased. It caught him off guard and he looked over. He saw a faint glint of a grin on her lips, but before he could reply, he was distracted by her walk. Without thinking, he blurted out, "What happened to you?"

Jacine raised an eyebrow. She wasn't used to people being so blunt about her limp. Upon thinking for a fraction, she decided she preferred it that way. On the other hand, that didn't mean she was going to give him an answer. "I hurt it a long time ago."

When the girl raised her right eyebrow, 23 felt the familiar embarrassment. Why can't I learn to think first? Her reply was mild enough, but obviously designed to discourage further questions. He nodded and pulled open the door to the Officers' Lounge, motioning for her to go in ahead of him.

Jacine looked around the Lounge. Essentially, it was a multi-purpose area for the officers who were still technically on duty to rest, meet, or catch a bite to eat, or talk quietly. Low tables and overstuffed chairs were clustered around the room, and one section of the wall opposite the door they'd come in was filled by vending machines, though not coin-driven, like the

usual ones at malls or other public cafeterias. The walls and upholstery were in subdued shades of teal and grey; relaxing, but well-enough lit to enable one to read here comfortably.

23 watched her look around and felt his stomach twist; she was very like her brother in manner. He could picture the scene in the Infirmary all too well...

Jacine finished surveying the place and looked back at her guide. He was standing by the door, still, and his left fist was clenched. He had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed. Walking to a table, Jacine sat down; he didn't move. She gently cleared her throat and he jumped, then turned to her.

Jacine was sitting at a table, watching him with sympathetic eyes. Did I just make a fool of myself? Oh well. 23 walked to the table. "Would you like anything to drink?" The girl studied him with those focused blue-green eyes, then she waved him to the seat across from her. Without thinking about it, he sat down.

"What I'd like," she said, and for the first time, 23 could hear a tremble in her voice, "Is to know what happened out there. How did Michael get hurt?" Even though her voice only quavered a little, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. 23 looked outside the room again, in his mind's eye, then brought himself firmly back. He got up again and walked over to the vending machines to get them some drinks anyway.

"I definitely need something liquid. Are you sure you don't want anything?" His words weren't evasions; Jacine recognized that he just needed time and probably really did want something to drink. But she was too pent up to make a decision about anything. A tear leaked out of the corner of one eye. She shook her head in answer to the man's question and lowered her knapsack to the floor. Her fingers worked out kinks in her hands that she hadn't known were there. Absently, she wondered how long she'd been clutching the knapsack like that.

23 saw the tear and the shake of her head. Biting his sore lip, he winced. He turned away from her and brought a hand up to his mouth. Lowering his hand, he looked at the blood on it with surprise. I don't think I'm going to have lemonade. Coffee? He finally settled on chocolate milk, and a soft napkin, for himself; and he also got a milk for Jacine. 23 knew she would probably drink the milk out of reflex if nothing else, and the proteins would help settle her. He took the drinks back to the table and settled himself to talk about something he really didn't want to remember in the first place.

"It started when we picked up some Refugees several days ago. Most of them were severely wounded. Those that we rescued had barely gotten away from the Recs. A pack of Recs had found an old weapons cache. So we went out to find and destroy the weapons." He paused for a sip of his drink.

Jacine knew, from years of listening to Michael, that rescuing people wounded and dying and in shock was not an easy task, and it was hard to keep caring. This man still cared. She picked up her mug and sipped from it, not knowing or even caring what was in it. As the warm liquid soothed her sob-torn throat, she looked at the mug in surprise.

"This is good!" 23 grinned.

Jacine took another sip of the warm milk. She felt another couple of tensed muscles uncoil. She hadn't forgotten that her brother was lying in an operating room down the corridor, but the concern this man radiated had its own effect. "Is that honey in there?"

"And some nutmeg." 23 would have liked to just talk with her about anything, but he owed her the rest of the explanation. "When we got to that pack's territory, we found evidence of some pretty savage fighting among themselves. They kill each other often enough, but not usually like that. We tracked the survivors to where they had found and were defending the cache." He shook his head. "That was a mistake. We should have scouted, then sent in a specialist team. But we had no idea..." Sighing again, 23 reflected to himself that they should have known from the injuries that the pack had found more than just a batch of guns. But they had been thinking "assault"-level weapons, which they had fairly good armor for, and hadn't considered anything more serious. The serious stuff had mostly been used up or destroyed in the years following the madness caused by two-thirds of the world turning Rec. "We used a standard siege tactic, but they had more hardware than we'd expected. Lots of long-range weapons. Grenades, some WP's, single rocket launchers. Luckily they couldn't figure out how to properly use that. Blew up a lot of their own with it, though. That's when we knew we had to get out of there. We started a retreat. A grenade landed near some of our people. Anderson, who'd been wounded already, couldn't get away fast enough. Michael shielded him with his own body, but no-one saw." Fresh guilt raked 23. "I should have. I was

monitoring the eyecams and vitals. But there was so much... Bower's eyecam was blown up when shrapnel hit him in the head. Michael's readings jumped, I should know his by now. I should have seen..." 23 stopped as Jacine reached out and took his hands. He closed his eyes, watching events play over and over again in his head with the clarity of hindsight.

Jacine listened with the tension again rising in her. Visualizing what the Lt. Colonel was talking about was easy enough. She had visited Michael often enough during his training. She had lived in the Wastelands -- still did if one counted her frontier town as part of the Wastelands. Recessives had their own brand of hatred for the humans they used to be. And they hurt so badly... Sanity, the ability to manipulate language, symbols; most of that had been lost in the genetic firestorm of the Youth Drug. Some basics seemed to remain. They were more intelligent than a pack of apes, but also more violent. Part of that came from the constant pain in their bones... Jacine shuddered to think of Recessives with weapons. The ones near her town didn't have any. Her horror rose as 23 mentioned the grenades. And then he told about Michael protecting his teammmate. Her lips twitched for a moment in a sad smile; Michael: always the Knight Protector.

The man's voice started shaking and Jacine's attention switched from the tale to the person. Her own heart was wrining itself inside out with worry, but this man in front of her, Michael's friend, was hurting badly. She heard him say he monitored the eyecams and her mind seized that scrap of information. He hasn't changed out of the uniform yet, he was in the van. How many people did Michael say were in his unit? Ten? Eleven? Her respect for the Lt. Colonel grew as she tried to imagine monitoring ten separate sets of stats in what was essentially a battle. In Tangier, she'd had to control eight robots, but that didn't even come close...

Craig-23 was turning all his undeserved guilt upon himself. Jacine couldn't sit by and watch him do that. He wasn't looking at her at all, eyes focused inward on the memories. She moved her mug and his drink to one side and reached across the table to take his hands in hers. He stopped mid-sentence when she touched him, but his thoughts seemed to remain within.

"It's okay," she spoke gently. "Cra..., uh, 23? Umm, Lieutenant...no, Colonel..." Her attempt at reassurance floundered as she couldn't figure out what to call him. How could a number be a name? And he wasn't exactly a Colonel but certainly not a Lieutenant, but the whole thing was too long...

23 felt her hands tighten around his. Reassurances were hollow, he knew he should have done better. But she wasn't saying what he'd expected. His attention refocused as the girl fumbled over his name. That, more than anything else, brought him out of his guilt. He couldn't help but smile at her confusion. I guess Michael didn't tell her about the Pentagon experiments. 23 was surprised and slightly pleased at that. "'23' is fine. Did Michael ever tell you about me?"

Jacine was relieved and embarrassed. "He mentioned you as a friend. Not long after he was transferred to your unit, he called me and told me that he'd finally found someone else who would know him. I didn't understand that." She paused, then frankly admitted, "I asked him about your, uh, name, but he said I'd have to ask you. I was surprised at that, but it tells how much he valued your friendship." Jacine paled as she realized she'd used the past tense while talking about Michael. No!! Inadvertently she started crying again.

23 started in surprise. Then, without thinking about why she had, he traded her grip on his hands to move around the table for a closer hug. With some amusement, he reflected that al they seemed to be doing was trading places on who needed and who comforted whom. After a moment, Jacine pulled away and dashed a

hand across her face.

"Where's a computer terminal or hookup" she demanded.

23 regarded her, trying to figure out what she needed. The girl didn't seem to notice his attention, but again asked for a terminal, starting to get up. Her voice didn't sound hysterical yet, but 23 thought she might be turning that way. He pushed a button on the side of the table and a projection screen formed in front of them. A section of table stopped pretending to be plastic imitating wood, and a panel of touch-control instruments appeared in its place. Jacine immediately started typing on the keyboard.

In half a moment, Jacine had gone through all the

preliminary codes and was deep in the RCF system. 23 just stared, open-mouthed, at the ease with which she bypassed security. She paused at one "door", and 23 felt a sinking feeling, recognizing the code. Great. What am I going to tell the MP's when they come? Then Jacine unhooked the compuset at her belt and, finding the auxiliary connections, hooked it into the main computer. Activating a program stored in the compuset, she passed that code as well. 23 took a moment to examine her compuset. That thing must be at least as powerful as mine, probably more so. He didn't recognize the brand. In fact, it looked home-made. He looked at the pale sister of his friend with dawning respect and not a little wariness.

When 23 looked at the projection screen again, Jacine had gotten into the Medical files and was scanning the systems in the OR. She started to activate one and 23 shot out a hand to stop her.

"No." Jacine turned her head toward him. His expression was one of sympathy, but hardened by command.

"But I need--" Jacine started to say, looking back at the screen.

"No. You don't need to see that. Monitor the diagnostics; okay, but activating the visual scanners; no."

Jacine sat still, watching the screen, thinking of her

brother. Reluctantly she felt she had to agree with Craig-23.

It probably wouldn't be good to watch the doctors operating on her brother; him cut open and bleeding, pale as death, dying, frantic yells as they tried to save him, the warmth fading to cold... Jacine began to shiver as she slipped into a Stream.

23 grew alarmed; she stared unseeing at the screen and her

hands were growing suddenly cold. "Jacine! It's all right. Jacine?" He let go of her and adjusted the compuset himself; moving through the systems until he found the diagnostic readouts the doctors used as they monitored their patients. He isolated Michael's and put it up on the screen. Oh great. I don't have much medical background! What does all this mean? Like all Haz Lib personnel, he'd had training in first aid and emergency rescue procedures, but he rarely ever had to use it.

Jacine heard a concerned voice beside her, but was lost in the Stream. Then part of her registered a change on the screen. Diagnostics... She shook herself out of the Stream and paid attention. We need interpretation. Reaching out to her compuset, she made some changes on the settings. On the main computer, she split the screen and worked through the codes needed to bring an outside program in. She had just about finished when a thought occurred to her. With surprise, she wondered why she hadn't thought about it before. Yes, she was concerned about Michael, but she never forgot security... Jacine turned her head to regard the man next to her; the person Michael called his friend.

23 felt himself under the weight of a deliberate scrutiny. Turning, he saw Jacine regarding him with the seriousness and concentration of someone making an important decision. Even as he sat there, he felt his actions, speech, and even thoughts of the last several minutes being weighed and evaluated. Without

even knowing what it was about, he thought, I hope I pass! Abruptly, the girl turned back to the computer and activated the program she'd been setting up. 23 wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs and stood silently as he thought about the inspection. Even when Tom first interviewed me for entry into HL-1, even when the ICS recruited me for the SunSpot affair, neither of those times had I felt such...intensity. Like a bug

on a microscope slide. Did I pass? Stopping his internal ramblings, he paid attention to the computer. I guess I did! By all that's electronic and holy...

Jacine made the last of the connections and watched Oracle work on the diagnostics. She thought grimly, Well, you wanted a cat -- how's Oracle himself? When she brought in the hookups that allowed the sapient computer access to the RCF area, he queried her in the special language that Wren had taught her for easier and quicker communication between sapients. Jacine didn't think she was wrong about the man sitting next to her, but she knew the chance she was taking. Her decision to continue surprised herself. While she was wondering, Oracle did preliminary work on the diagnostics and the screen projected a complete evaluation on Michael's lifesigns and summaries of the procedures taking place, along with a commentary on the effectiveness of the doctors' techniques. Leaning forward, and letting her worries and questions about why she'd risked Oracle slip to the far reaches of her mind, Jacine poured over the readouts.

23 didn't forget his concerns, but he wasn't immune to the flattery of being trusted, and the information scrolling across the screen was interesting. Another piece of shrapnel out. That one had worked its way into the lining of his lung. Now they're doing the reconstruction... Lifesigns are... Well, they're there. Even if the news wasn't the best, at least it was news. 23 allowed himself to stop thinking about anything but the reports on the screen.

Jacine frowned as she absorbed Michael's condition. He didn't just get his titanium constitution from his Recessive half -- their mother was pretty tough. She'd had to be. And Jacine herself had been injured worse than Michael was now and lived. Well, mostly lived -- if not intact. She whispered Oracle's name as a question. The AI put up two percentiles. That of a normal human surviving Michael's injuries, and an estimate of Michael's chances. They were 37% and approximately 64%. Jacine stared at the second one for a long time. It's better than fifty-fifty. Her attempt to reassure herself was feeble. Michael. Don't die, brother. Please... They had lived together for most of their lives. For eight years, with their mother and two other couples out in the Wastelands. Then Jacine had been hurt. One of the couples, Ki and Carlos, had taken both children to Island City for medical treatment. There, the siblings had encountered other children; and hatred and jealousy. As close as they had been, the experience drew them even closer. Michael had joined the RCF when he was twenty, and Jacine had moved out of Island City to a frontier town three years later, when she was twenty-two; but they'd always kept in touch. Calls every other night, when the O-Storms permitted. Jacine visited as often as she could -- except this past year when she was working in Morocco. And now he was hurt. She felt tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. Angrily, she blinked them back. How much crying can I do? He's still alive!

A low tone sounded from the comdeck on 23's wrist. "This is Craig-23," he answered quietly.

"23, this is Tom. Are you in the middle of anything?"

He hesitated before answering, not wanting to leave Jacine all alone. But responsibility.... "Not at the moment. What do you need?"

"General Mede has called a quick meeting to discuss the

situation."

23 could tell that Tom felt bad about having to call him. He smiled sadly as he replied. "It's okay. Where?"

"The General's office; as soon as we can get there. Are you sure? I can get you off if you want."

"No, thanks; I'll be there. Are you in Ops right now? I'll come by there first."

After 23 disconnected, he looked apologetically at Jacine. "I have to go, will you be okay?"

Jacine was looking at him a little strangely. He was being evaluated again, but not like before. 23 felt that she was

seeing him as a person, rather than as her brother's friend or a security risk. He wondered what he'd done to refocus her attention.

She nodded at him. "Go ahead, I'll be fine." Turning back to the computer, she changed one of the program values. 23 knew he was being dismissed, and recognized it as a form of bravado. He watched her for a moment as she worked on the computer amd wondered with mixed amusement and seriousness if he should be the one to be worried about security. But trust had to run both ways of necessity. Turning away, he left the Lounge and walked down the corridors to Ops.

Tom intercepted him at the ExSat console, and gave him a searching look to evaluate his condition. 23 shrugged off his concern, though he knew if Dr. Helding hadn't gone straight into surgery with the wounded, she would have confiscated his vitals chip and not let him within ten meters of anything resembling work. The intern who had done the decontam and diacs wasn't familiar with 23's unique readings, and he'd bluffed her into thinking everything was okay. He couldn't bluff Tom like that, but Tom wouldn't order him off unless something was seriously wrong -- at which point, 23 would have removed himself from active duty. He was stubborn, but not that stubborn. And he tried never to endanger other people's lives.

They arrived at the Gate and 23 programmed in the General's number, with the appropriate command authorization codes.

"How is Mendi's sister doing?" Tom broke the silence,

watching 23.

23 thought back to the girl he'd left in the Officers' Lounge -- and the Program with a capital 'P' that she'd worked into their circuits. "I think she'll be fine as long as Michael makes it. I don't know what'll happen if he dies." 23 didn't want to think of it. He wondered if it was time for him to go on LOA, or transfer temporarily to a different job. They had nearly lost Andy Seale last year, and he had been 23's best friend. Andy had transferred out of Haz-Lib when he recovered; 23 didn't see him as often as he used to, and Michael had sort of taken Andy's place, both in the unit and as someone 23 could talk to. Now Michael was hurt, and 23 didn't know who could take his place, or if he could stand losing another friend.

Tom let him think in silence, for which 23 was grateful. He hadn't even noticed when they moved through the Gate into the General's receiving room. Now General Mede came in and greeted them both.

"Hello, Tom, 23. Thank you for coming over. I know it's been a long day for you, but after reading your preliminary report, I thought it best to call a Command meeting. Ms. Rizvi will be attending the meeting to hear about the weapons cache directly."

"No problem, General." Tom restrained himself from saluting; the RCF wasn't that formal on those protocols, but his old military habits were hard to overcome.

Mede brought them into the conference room where other high ranking officers were seated, along with two other people at the head of the table. Even forewarned, both Valdoon and 23 stiffened to respectful attention at seeing them, and this time,

Colonel Valdoon did salute. 23 didn't only because he'd learned not to try with his coordination.

The lady was dressed in dark maroon with black piping, and had a clear hexagonal gem implanted in her forehead. She smiled at the salute and said, "At ease, Colonels. This isn't a formal visit. I just wanted to hear about the situation in something other than a dry report." Her bodyguard watched them with wary eyes.

"Yes, sir," 23 and Valdoon responded. A member of the High Council ranked as the highest of officers. They sat down after looking for permission from General Mede.

One of the generals at the table began; "First, we'd like a summary of events..."

*** *** ***

High Councilor Rizvi got up to leave. All the officers at the table also rose. She spoke briefly. "Thank you for discussing the situation with me. I will be assigning an ICS agent to be my liaison until the bunker has been destroyed. If you have any questions or problems regarding any of the armaments, let her know, and she will advise you or contact me." She left, the bodyguard with her, and there was a stir around the table as they decided what topic to progress to next.

Colonel Vasser cleared his throat and said, "About your personnel problems, I have a couple of people in one of my units who are experienced in demolitions -- one in explosives and the other in strategy and trouble-shooting. They've been wanting to

transfer out for a while, but they requested a transfer together. And they do work well together."

Valdoon and 23 glanced at each other -- there was an element to the over-friendly expression on Vasser's face they didn't like. Valdoon responded, "I'll look at their dossiers, of course. General Mede has already given me a few others to look at." He indicated a disk on the table next to him.

Vasser pushed his own disk over to them. "I had it with me."

General Kristich also spoke, "I don't know who Cecilia has recommended to you, but there's a cadet that just got out of

the Academy..."

*** *** ***

23 and Valdoon left the meeting room, their arms full of disks and flimsies. They exchanged looks, but didn't say anything until they'd gone through the Gate back to Ops.

23 sighed. "What, does all of the RCF want to pass their rejects off on us?"

Tom yawned. "It does seem like that. I want to review these more objectively in the morning. You need some sleep."

"So do you." 23's comment was wryly deprecating of both their conditions. It showed how tired they were that Tom didn't protest the statement, even as a joke. After dumping the disks in Valdoon's office, they both headed to their respective quarters.

*** *** ***

Jacine leaned her head against her arms, closing her eyes wearily. They had finished the surgery. Michael wasn't out of danger yet, but Oracle had upgraded his chances to 87%. That was good enough for Jacine to gamble on his survival. She had been watching the readouts for three straight hours since the Lieutenant-Colonel had left. At one point, the readings had dropped alarmingly when they had removed a piece of metal from his kidney, which hemorrhaged badly. The doctors stopped the bleeding as quickly as they could and the readings straightened out again; and had risen steadily since then. Jacine was even more impressed than ever with Dr. McLendon. If Michael had died, it wouldn't have been the doctor's fault at all, and Jacine wouldn't have blamed her; but Michael's survival was directly attributable to Tamlynn's skill and persistence.

"Jacine?" A tired voice interrupted her tired thoughts. Jacine raised her head to see the person she'd been thinking about.

"Tamlynn." Jacine rose, balancing with one hand on the table, and limped forward to embrace her friend. "Thanks..." Words couldn't express her emotions adequately, and she tried to put her feelings into her hug.

Tamlynn returned the embrace for a while, then moved back a bit, gripping her friend's arms. "He's not out of danger yet..."

Jacine waved a hand at the computer. "87% is good enough

for me. He'll live. Thanks to you."

The doctor's eyes traveled to the computer and studied the program scrolling across the screen for a moment, then she gave a weary laugh. "You minx! You set up a cat in the system." Then Tam raised a hand to her mouth and looked around the room. The Officers' Lounge was empty except for them, and Tamlynn relaxed again.

"The last of the others got word on Anderson's condition two hours ago and left. Officers keep coming and going, but this doesn't seem to be a popular time of night." It was past midnight. The end of Beta shift and the beginning of Gamma had swarmed through the place just an hour ago, and Jacine had shut down the computer while they were there, but most of them had

left her alone.

"No..." Tamlynn smothered a yawn. After eight hours in surgery, keeping herself alert every moment, the suddenness of relaxation was catching up with her. "I guess you just came over when you heard. Want to crash at my place?"

Jacine looked gratefully at her. How her friend could possibly think about such a thing after all that... "Thanks," she replied, again, inadequately, but it was all she could think of.

A dark-haired man came in through the door, but hadn't opened it wide enough before he started to go in, clipped both sides of the frame with his shoulders, and stumbled. Tamlynn took two quick strides and caught him before he fell.

"Hello, 23. Making your grand entrance as usual?"

"Tamlynn!" 23 ignored her grip and concentrated on his

friend. "If you're here... How's Michael?"

Tam released him after she was sure he had his balance. "Not out of the woods, but the undergrowth is a lot less thorny."

23 sighed in relief, but his relief changed to apprehension

as he saw Tamlynn looking him over in a professional manner.

"23, what are you doing still on active duty? If you don't say right now that you're about to go get some rest, I'm confiscating your vitals chip!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" 23 exclaimed hurriedly. Trust a doctor...

Tamlynn laughed as she studied his expression. "I bet you conned another intern at the diac tube. What was your energy reading, zero again?"

"Well--" 23 started to answer with an abashed affirmative, but a choked-off exclamation of disbelief attracted his and Tamlynn's attention. In sparring with Tamlynn, 23 had forgotten about Jacine, though he'd come to the Snake Pit to see if she was still around. After the meeting, he'd gone to his rooms and had gotten five feet inside when he remembered her, still waiting for word on Michael.

Jacine was looking at both of them with wide eyes. "Isn't a zero energy reading--"

"Dead," 23 and Tamlynn chorused. 23 made a throw-away gesture and explained, "I have abnormal energy readings because my nervous system is..." He searched for a polite word to describe it.

"Screwed up," suggested Tamlynn.

23 accepted the phrase with a grimace. "That's about the best way to put it." He'd used stronger language when explaining it to Michael, but he wouldn't in front of his friend's sister.

Jacine had a bright, curious expression on her face, and her

eyes gleamed with interest. It was a little overpowering, and 23 wondered if this was how she was normally, when she wasn't overwhelmed with worry for her brother. She didn't say anything else, but her inquisitiveness was plain. 23 expanded on the explanation, "You were wondering about my name earlier. My brothers and I are the...screwed up," he borrowed Tam's term, thinking it fit rather well, "of an old genetics experiment by

the Pentagon--"

"The Craig Series!" Jacine exclaimed. "Of course!" She started laughing, and both 23 and Tamlynn looked at her strangely. It wasn't the usual reaction of most people.

Trying to find a reason, 23 asked, "You've heard of us?" "Oh my, yes!" Jacine subsided with a chuckle, then apologized. "I'm sorry, I just can't help but remember the expression on Neil's face when he told us about it..." Her face suddenly turned sober. "It's one of the few things he remembers with laughter." She grinned again, but with a little less humor than before. "He was telling us about the various obsolete Blackout Projects the Pentagon was trying to get an approved budget for. 'And then walked in these three abashed scientists: We need funding for 78 five-year-old boys...' Neil said that it was the most amusing thing that had happened all week."

"Neil?" 23 tried to remember what had happened sixty-five years ago, besides the meteor. "Oh! Of the Space Program. I remember the day he came in to see us..." He looked at the girl with renewed interest. She was definitely too young to have been involved with any of that. "You know him?"

Jacine's face shuttered over again. 23 couldn't help but think she changed emotions quickly. Most people gave warning sign, or changed slowly. Jacine just flipped from one to the other.

"I know his grandson." Jacine thought abut her friend. Her same age, went to the same school, was tormented by the same bullies... He was married, had two kids and was starting to lose his hair. The first signs of aging in a non-mutated human, while she and Michael looked the same as they had ten years ago. Sometimes, the weight of Youth Drug-bought years weighed heavily on Jacine, even if she was only passed it by genetics.

A snap of fingers under her nose brought her attention back. Tamlynn's cheerful, if red-eyed, face was in front of her.

"Yo, Jas. Don't get stuck in a Stream now, I want to go to bed."

Jacine grinned wanly. "Sorry, Tam. I was trying so hard not to earlier, I think it's bouncing back on me now. I'll be ready in a minute." She moved over to the computer and started shutting down systems, disconnecting her compuset and withdrawing out of the security programs with even more care than she'd penetrated them. Behind her, Jacine heard Tamlynn and 23

talking in low voices, and she caught her name, but she was concentrating too hard on the programs to care about what they were saying.

Tamlynn obviously knows her, 23 thought. We're all too tired to think straight tonight. When Jacine turned to the computer, 23 looked at Tamlynn with a raised eyebrow, giving her the option to answer or not.

Seeing the inquiring expression on 23's face, Tamlynn rubbed her forehead. I'm too tired to make a decision now. She

thought about the concern in 23's eyes. Actually, I don't think she'll mind -- especially after just hearing about 23's problems. The thought struck a humorous chord, and she grinned at her friend. "You two are well matched."

23 blinked a few times as the sentence made it's way through his foggy mind, then he opened his mouth to retort.

Tamlynn cut him off, "I was joking. Jacine has an eidetic memory. When one thought strikes another apparently at random,

we joke about her riding the Tangent Lines. Sometimes, though, she gets stuck on a particular memory or line of thought and her concentration for outside things fades. She calls it 'Streaming', or 'getting stuck in a Stream'."

"Oh..." That explains a few things. 23 had only known three other people with perfect memories -- each one a brother. 27 was idiot savant -- severely retarded except for his exceptional memory; 31 was autistic -- withdrawn from the normal world; and 52 had the lesser form more commonly known as a photographic memory -- he was a great artist, worked in acrylics and watercolors mostly. 52's series of the Second Cataclysm was famous and prized by historians. 23 shook his head. Talk about

wandering the Tangent Lines. He grinned, I like that expression. He turned back to the question of an eidetic memory. I've always associated it with 27 and 31 -- you can't have it all. I never thought about the problems it could create with otherwise normal thinking.

Tamlynn watched the play of thoughts cross 23's face and smiled to herself -- her two friends really would be well matched if they got together. Not likely, but it was an amusing thought. That reminded her... "Jacine." She waited for Jacine's attention -- the younger woman finished up with the computers and was turning to them. "You never told me your brother was so cute."

Jacine had just hooked her compuset back on her belt when Tamlynn made her statement. Her eyebrows shot up to their fullest height and she stared at her friend in surprise. "Michael? Cute???" Jacine had never thought abut it before. She heard 23's choked astonishment as he also was caught by surprise.

Tamlynn waved a hand. "You know, good-looking, handsome, nice bod." She grinned. "The usual."

23 couldn't help it. "Is that what you usually look for in a patient while you're sewing him back together?"

Tamlynn shot him a dirty look. "I took a second look when I realized he was Jacine's brother. I'd never met him." Actually, Tamlynn's thoughts had surprised herself. She didn’t usually react to unconscious, shrapnel-ridden, near-death patients that way. But at one of the breaks, when Dr. Coburn had relieved her on the surgery, she'd finally connected Michael Mendi's name with Jacine's. Tamlynn had thought of her friend and the times she'd talked about her brother. When Tam had returned to the surgery, she'd looked at Michael with Jacine's humor and expressions superimposed on his. At the next break, she'd looked up his personnel file, rather than just the medical records. It had some pictures of him that showed that her imagination was closer than she'd thought to reality. It also showed, if Tamlynn was not mistaken, something that Jacine lacked -- a gentle soul. Jacine was spitfire and all action, though also thoughtful and reflective on matters not involving people. Michael... He looked like someone who would sit by a fire and be lost in the beauty, not sit and analyze the chemical reactions that produced the flame or the amount of oxygen being consumed. Tamlynn shook her head; she was probably imagining it, tired after the long hours of surgery.

That reminds me... Jacine stopped thinking about the novel idea of having a cute brother, and reached over into her knapsack. "Tam? Can we drop by the recovery room first?" Her

eyes misted with tears again as she clutched Harry.

Tamlynn frowned for just a moment, then she saw the stuffed owl and her expression lightened in sympathy. "Sure. We can't stay, though. He has to be kept under observation for at least another 10 hours before visitors can be allowed."

Jacine nodded, and smiled her thanks yet again, her throat too tight to speak.

23 had forgotten until this moment that he wasn't really with the other two. "Can I come, too?"

Tamlynn looked at him and he tried his best to appear under control. He didn't think he'd succeeded, but Tam suddenly

smiled and shook her head in capitulation. "What can I do with the two of you? Sure, 23, but you can't stay either. Remember, I have you under strict orders to go straight to bed."

23 pantomimed an 'X' over his left chest. "Cross my heart.

Straight to bed." He stifled a yawn. "That won't be a hard

order to follow."

***

### ***

The next morning, General Mede, having received Valdoon's request and expedited the transfers from General Vasser's first unit, sent them six replacement personnel; two permanent, four temporary; Anderson had pulled through, and Mendi was recovering at a remarkable rate. Jacine was happily enforcing Dr. McLendon's orders of bed-rest, with the help of Dr. McLendon herself, who'd put her research on hold so as to follow his progress further.

Valdoon briefed the two new unit members; Major Hatsu

Azami, an unusually tall, muscular woman with long black hair braided and coiled about her head, combat specialist and experienced in demolitions; and Major Rhiannon Shea, four feet, eight inches tall, with red hair and blue eyes, a weapons/tactical officer. Valdoon couldn't help but reflect that somehow he'd acquired quite a motley unit.

"There's a pack of Recessives in the far northeast quadrant who've found an old cache of weapons. That's what we ran into yesterday." Valdoon showed them the location on his screen. "We need to get back there and destroy whatever weapons are left. This is an unusually large pack, so we'll need to be especially careful."

"Are you authorizing use of Exterminators, then?" asked Maj. Azami, sounding concerned.

"No! Not if we can help it. You're familiar with the use of nitromide?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, we should have enough to destroy the bunker." He stood, indicating the door. "If you've no further questions, let's go." They preceded him out of his office and down to the transports.

The drive out to the site took several hours. Major Shea went over all the scanner and camera data with 23, while Major Azami double checked her equipment.

After 23 had shown Shea all the video, she sat for some time, biting on the second knuckle of her thumb, thinking. 23 guessed she was going to stay that way for a while, so he turned around in his chair to see what Major Azami was doing.

"That stuff isn't going to go off if we hit a rough patch, is it?" he asked her, thinking of the roadless terrain they'd be covering.

Azami grinned at him. "Nitromide? Heh, you could drop this stuff off the Cliffs of Insanity and it wouldn't go off; not without the detonators. This isn't Challengeite or anything."

23 made an 'oh' shape with his mouth. Then he blinked. "'Cliffs of Insanity'?"

Beside him, Shea chuckled. "She's referring to an old 2D movie; The Princess Bride."

"I thought that was a book," put in Valdoon from the driver's seat, vaguely recalling having read such a book as a kid. Something about pirates and a Princess Buttercup...

"It was that, too," said Azami.

"Lost me," said 23.

"You've never heard of it?" said Shea. "You must've been a deprived child."

"I was," 23 agreed, grinning back at them. Valdoon made an amused noise in the back of his nose. Shea went back to her planning; always at the back of her mind, in situations like this, was the thought that the life of her best friend may very well depend on her strategy. She outlined her plan to 23, and considered his suggestions, making any necessary changes. Azami completed her checks, then joined them; she knew she was ready, any further fussing would do no good.

*** ### ***

"Got it!!" Azami was practically doing a little victory

dance. She held a hand out and Maj. Shea slapped it, grinning.

"Okay, people, let's wrap this up and go home," came

Valdoon's voice over their commsets. "Take a couple of Recs for tagging."

Azami helped Richards haul a Rec inside.

"It's chocolate sundae time," said Shea, following them into the transport.

"Innn-dubitably, my dear comrade." Azami agreed.

"Did someone say chocolate?" 23 queried from his station.

"Yep," replied Shea. "You wish to join us, Col. 23?"

"All in?" Valdoon interrupted, sounding amused.

"All in," M'Kinzie confirmed. "On our way."

The mood in both vehicles was one of subdued jubilation. A

major threat had been effectively dealt with, but they had paid for that success dearly. On the way back to the City they spoke in quiet voices, about their friends in the Infirmary, and the two who would be sent back to their families for cremation or burial. Azami and Shea were mostly silent; they had lost mates before, too, but now they were the new ones, whose presence could only remind the others of those lost.

### *** ###

Valdoon poked his head out his office door. "Shea, Azami,

may I have a word with you two?" The two majors, who were

walking by on their way to their duty stations for the morning, stopped and looked up at him in unison; Valdoon, amused, was struck again by the contrast in their appearance.

The two came bouncing up the stairs, curiosity plain on their faces. Valdoon ushered them into his office and shut the door.

"What's up, Colonel?" Shea asked.

"Nothing official," Valdoon answered, hitching one hip onto his desk. "Dr. McLendon informed me that Lieutenant Mendi is going to be released from the Infirmary tomorrow or the next day. You've probably already heard that he's half-Recessive; I just wanted to let you know that he's more than earned his place in the RCF, and is a well-liked and valuable man in this unit."

Shea and Azami traded surprised glances. "We gathered that, sir," Shea said.

"Ah. Well, most people tend to react...strongly on first meeting him."

"And you don't want us to freak out and upset him and

everyone else," Azami said. "We've already seen him, from a distance. Tam McLendon is a friend of ours. We'll behave."

"Ohh." Valdoon was suddenly not sure what to say; how much had Tamlynn told them about him?

"Was that all, Colonel?" Shea asked, with too much

innocence, Valdoon thought.

"Yes. Unless either of you has any questions...?" They shook their heads. He stood and opened the door for them, shrugging. "Carry on, then."

Azami paused briefly at the top of the stairs to glance back at him. It was unusual for a CO to show that particular kind of concern. But, then, how many CO's had a half-Rec in their unit? Mendi himself must be quite remarkable...

*** ### ***

When Mendi was finally released from the infirmary, he found

23 in ops, running routine diagnostics on the eyecams, assisted

by several of the HL-1 unit (including Jeffrey Anderson, who'd been released from the infirmary a couple of weeks before) and the newest transfers, Shea and Azami. It was a tedious job, but in Valdoon's unit everyone helped out with such tasks. Mendi came in silently, pulled up a chair and picked up the next headset in the pile. The HL-1 veterans were all glad to see him, but they kept a collective eye on the two newcomers.

That must be their Lieutenant Mendi, that the Colonel 'warned' us about, Rhin thought, as she watched the big weapons officer approach. I sort of expected a half-Rec to be as brutish-looking as the Recs themselves; this fellow's actually rather striking... She snuck a quick look at Azami. The larger woman was also watching the Lieutenant, with a peculiar intensity Shea recognized. She managed to stop the grin at her eyes: later tonight, back in her quarters, Azami would be furiously sketching.

"Hey, Michael!" 23 said, amidst greetings from the other HL1 veterans at the table. "Tamlynn finally let you out of Medlab! It's good to see you vertical again; you had us pretty worried for a while."

"I guess so, if Jacine came all the way over here," Mendi replied, half grinning. He looked over at Shea and Azami.

"Oh! Um," 23 remembered his manners just in time. "These are our two new transfers; Majors Hatsu Azami and Rhiannon Shea."

"Hello," said the two. 23 did a mental double-take. He had heard that subtle note in women's voices, seen that look in their eyes before; but not directed at Mendi! They weren't being obvious, but 23 knew a spark of interest when he saw one.

"Pleased to meet you both," said Mendi, oblivious, or doing a very good job of pretending to be. He reached over to shake hands, Azami first, as she was nearer.

"Yikes!" she said as she took his hand, half standing. "Mendi, you're burning hot! Are you sure Dr. McLendon knows you're out here?" Shea stood, reflexively extending a hand toward his forehead. The slight recoil on Mendi's part made her freeze and withdraw the gesture.

Mendi actually laughed. "No, no. My normal body temp runs about 38 degrees, Celsius. I'm fine." Azami still held his

hand, looking at Shea, then back at him, blushing.

"Oh dear," murmured Azami, as she let go.

"Really? Well, dibs on you for Maneuvers, then!" said Shea, who always froze on cold nights in the Wasteland. Mendi just smiled at them and began taking apart his headset.

Until Azami burst out into howls of laughter. "Maneuvers!?!" she cried, putting a lascivious spin on the word. She flung her head back, whooping. Shea went scarlet, Mendi looked puzzled. Azami pointed a finger at her friend. "Your face...is the same color...as your hair!" she managed to gasp out between gales.

"That is not what I meant and you know it! It's not funny! That's not what I meant!" She turned to Mendi. "That's not what I meant! Honest, Lieutenant, it isn't!" She glared down at Azami again, slapping the larger woman repeatedly on the shoulder. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Tes, you...you...guttersnipe!"

Azami was getting herself under control with difficulty. It didn't help that everyone else at the table was laughing, too, and 23 was whispering something to Mendi, who was taking all this with equanimity. But she and Rhin had pulled this sort of goofy routine before; it was an adaptive strategy that took the edge off a potentially uncomfortable situation.

Michael just smiled at Shea and made a small gesture to indicate he had understood her actual intent; the while reflecting that he'd never gotten quite this sort of reaction from people before. 23 and the other attendant members of the HL-1 unit were thinking along similar lines. Over the past year, 23 had found himself in part evaluating new people by their initial reactions to Michael. It wasn't necessarily a fair judgement, but he had developed the habit nonetheless. These two were certainly unique. Michael himself looked as though he wasn't entirely sure how to take them, either.

23 kindly changed the subject. "You two must be the "Twins" I've heard M'Kinzie talking about. I didn't appreciate that...um...title until meeting you." He couldn't resist a mild jibe, though; "You even blush in unison."

The two sputtered while 23 grinned and Mendi had to cough to cover a bark of laughter.

"Well," said Valdoon as he came in, "If you all are enjoying yourselves so much, I ought to have you running diac full-time.' He was greeted with unfriendly glares. "Just kidding!"

"We were just teasing the 'Twins', here," 23 explained. Valdoon regarded Shea and Azami with sudden comprehension. "Oh, no. I knew there was something about your dossiers."

"Now now," Shea protested. "As long as we get transferred together, there aren't any problems."

"That only happened once," Azami reminded her.

"It was an accident," said Shea.

"The goat recovered," said Azami.

"Major Healy never did, though," said Shea.

"Oh. Well..." said Azami.

"I do not want to know," Valdoon said firmly, sitting down at the ExSat console.

"Who's Major Healy?" 23 asked.

"He's afraid of snakes, now," Shea replied, as if that explained everything. 23 guessed it did.

When they finished with the headsets, Shea stretched

prodigiously. "When this shift is over, anybody want to go for pizza at Sarducci's?"

"Mmmmmm! Sounds good!" said Azami. "23? Mendi? Anderson? Anybody? You guys getting hungry?"

There were several noises of agreement from the group.

"I wasn't, until you said 'pizza'," said 23.

Michael was about to demur automatically, but 23 managed to kick him under the table. Mendi spent most of his free time in

his quarters, too much time alone, 23 thought; probably sitting around reading weapons manuals and regs... Michael gave 23 a sidelong look, and accepted the invitation. What harm could going with them, and the others, to dinner do anyway?

### *** ###

They agreed to meet in the OQ Courtyard at 1900, giving

everyone time to shower and change out of uniform. Mendi got

there first, in his customary black, high-collared shirt. He sat at one of the benches around the central fountain to wait for the others. 23 and the women came from the southwest and northwest corners at almost the same time. Shea and Azami were racing; they came sprinting up to the fountain and slapped their hands against the rim at almost the same time.

"Tes! Your legs are as long as I am tall! Cut it out!" Rhin said, mildly vexed that Azami had almost 'let' her win.

"But it's fun to try to match your stride," Azami replied, laughing. Rhin stuck her tongue out and gave her a raspberry.

Michael stood as 23 approached, at a more leisurely pace than the Twins. 23 grinned to himself at seeing Michael and Azami side-by-side like that; she was tall enough to be a convenient height for him. Shea, on the other hand, barely came up to his lower ribs. A classic comedy duo...

Anderson, M'Kinzie and Telasner weren't long in joining them, and 23 watched them make almost the same appraisals of Shea and Azami as he had. This was going to be an interesting dinner.

*** ### ***

A couple of weeks later...

It was almost the end of the shift. Shea saw Mendi turn his

head in that characteristic way of sore necks everywhere. She

got up from her console and peered over his shoulder at his readout, then put her small hands on the corners of his shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles. Touching the hot skin of his neck, she was startled and automatically put the back of her hand to his forehead to check for fever. Mendi froze. Embarrassed, Shea jerked her hand away.

"Sorry!" she said. "Mothering instincts die hard." "You have children?" he asked, somehow surprised at the thought.

"No," she said very quietly. "I can't have children."

Mendi blinked, biting his lip. "I'm sorry," he said, just

as quietly. Shea's hands sort of shrugged.

"Noting anyone can do about it," she said. She started working on his shoulders and neck again. He was surprised at how strong her tiny hands were.

If she can't have children, Mendi thought, then her implant must be... He firmly quashed that thought. In his own personal rule book, he had long ago decided that it was rude to inquire after anyone's implant color, considering the color of his own.

After awhile, Mendi's shoulders loosened up some, and, after a quick check at her own board -- at which nothing had happened - she moved over to stand behind 23. He was shamelessly appreciative of the neck rub.

"Hey," said Telasner. "Am I next or are you just doing the guys?"

Shea grinned at the dark-skinned RCF officer, who was tall, but not nearly as tall as Azami. "Line forms to the right!" Rhin called out. This was her favorite way to make friends in a new unit.

"Major Shea," came a voice from above them. Colonel Valdoon was at the handrail of the catwalk to his office. "What are you doing?"

"Giving neck rubs, sir," she called back.

Valdoon made an "oooh" shape with his mouth, then scurried down the stairs to stand "in line" behind Telasner. 23 snorted, and there were a few other brief noises of amusement from around the room.