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Disclaimer: Okay, this is hopefully not going to be confusing. It's also meant
to be as realistic as possible, and I most likely ( 99.9 % sure) will cut the
last sentance out. I don't own the Quests and am getting no money. Fair
enough?

Archivers: Mont. and Suze, fine by me! All others, 
  A nice black purse that goes with everything.
 ZORAK! A nice black e-mail that goes with everything.

(The last line is as close to anything soap-opera like I"ve ever gotten. It's
also the last time. It's kinda' funny, kinda' not. Just watch out and if you
don't like it, I'll cut it out. :-))
________________________________________

  It was Summer of year two thousand ten. I knew what I was getting myself
into, but not to what extent. I left the compound about nine years prior, in
order to attempt to persue out my dream- or- quest- as a scientist like my
mentor, Dr.Benton Quest. He was one of, if not the greatest, phenomenlogist,
anthropologist, overall scientist. Just the kind of person I wanted to be. I
knew the only way I would be able to achive my dream was to go off on my own.
I couldn't stay with my family forever, my father hovering over me and being
treated like some kind of little kid. Yes, it was for the best, but sometimes
I'm not so sure....

  "Come in." The large oak door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman, of
about thirty, dressed in stylish brown silk pants and a silk blowse. 
  "Your paper, Miss Bannon." The woman handed me my morning paper, The New
York Times, (which I could afford to get all the way down south,) along with
my morning cup of decaffinated coffee, turned on her heal and shut the door
behind her. 
My job seemed to be taking me places, using my own verson of QuestWorld as a
virtual laboratory, I was reaching high places, exceeding expectations placed
frightfully out of most people's reach. I called it QuestSpace, my own section
of virtual reality inspired by Benton Quest's QuestWorld, where I spent much
of my childhood youth. Skimming over the paper, a bold headline caught my
attention,
  'Bosnia Victim of Japanese Bombing Target'
  "WHAT!?!" I exclaimed aloud. Continuing to read, every word frightened me
more and more. 
  'Thousands were left dead early this morning as Japanese fighter engines
raided and bombed much of Bosnia. Exclaiming, "Tora! Tora! Tora!" The Japanese
pilots left the scene as quickly as they came. The hundereds of survivors will
not last the week unless medical attention is given promptly.
  "We are doing our best to help Bosnia in this time of need," Red Cross
President Elisabeth Dole commented once the news was brought from Bosnia. 
  "The Red Cross is extending beyond the United States in this time of need.
We are going international."
  Mrs.Dole also asked of anyone trained in the medical field that is willing
to volunteer for the part as an administrator of first-aid in Bosnia to please
call 1-888-GIVE-HELP

Please see Bombing, E4

  "Hey, Dad, look at this! They're looking for volunteers over at that bombing
site in Bosnia!" My dad, Dr.Benton Quest, walked over to me from his seat in
the conservatory. 
  "Really, Jonny? Maybe you would want-"
  "Yeah! I mean, the only reason I went to med. school anyway was to help
people! This would be a great time!"
  "But, Jonny, all the way over in Bosnia...."
  "Come on, Dad! This is one thing I'll beat Jessie too!"
  "Still have that sibling rivalry thing going, Jonny? I thought you two got
over that!" Dad glanced over at me with a playful look in his eye, starting to
crack a smile. His grey beard made him look like a young Santa Clause! I never
thought he would age, he always seemed to stay so young. I think it was
because of Jessie leaving what- ten years earlier? There was really no one
left to keep him on his toes. 
  "Yeah, dad. Riiiiight," I smiled scharcasticaly. "But Katie can't go. School
and all." Katie had gotten her master's degree the year before, but when back
to get her doctor's. I just got my master's and stopped there. Too much
school...... but I had been given a lot of medical training, especially since
dad drilled it into me. I'm no rocket scientist, I'll admit, but I took the
courses I needed to and went to a med. college at night so I was given the
ability to be an E.M.T., which I think is pretty cool. Let's see....Jessie had
six years of college, I think, and it's been three years since she got her
doctor's. She's some fancy-schmancy scientist in Georgia, I think. We've
really lost toutch. Even Race. I think all this fame and fortune got to her
head, she's just cut herself off somehow. Oh- yeah- Hadji went back to
Bangalore and met this nice gal, Naajat. They got married. Katie and I got
married the year after graduation. Kate's got two additional years of college
and then she's out. It's been two years since I got out. I think I got that
all right. 
  "I just don't want Katie to miss out on any school. It's so important to her
and all. I'll just go for a little while and see what I can do."
  "That sounds like a very good thing for you to do, Jonny. Just talk it over
with Katie, okay?"

  "Okay. I've made up my mind. I'll take the next flight out to Bosnia. I
called the Red Cross and got all the information necessary."
  "How long are you going to be gone, Miss Bannon? Would you like me to
postpone all your scedualed appointments?"
  "Oh- yes, please, Maggie." Maggie was a great secretary, and always made me
feel confident. Pushing back in my leather recliner and looking out my large
window out onto the busteling streets of Atlanta, Georgia, I began thinking
about how much I really missed my family."
  "Benton, you'd be proud of me," I sighed, picking up my phone and dialing
information. 
  "Hello? Could you please get me the number for Turner Airport flight
scedualations?" 

  "So, Katie, you really don't have any problems with me going?"
  "Mmm, nope. Just promise to be careful. Bosnaia's a scarry place- well, no
scarrier than a lot of the stuff you've seen. I think you can handle it."
  "Yeah." As I rolled over, Katie placed her hand onto my back.
  "But next time- make love to me after you tell me something like this."


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