Jacine leaned over the railing, "They're adorable!"

Her dad laughed, "Would you like to hold one?"

"Oh, may I?!"

The wombat babies were like most other young creatures, they radiated 'cuteness' in spades. Jacine held the one she was given carefully in both arms. It was soft and furry, with two little ears that twitched at every new sound it heard. It's little paws reached out for things to grab onto as it explored this new environment. Entranced, Jacine didn't move until her dad took the wombat back to its mother. They then visited the other pens and saw many types of animals and their habitats. Jacine could have stayed the entire day and the night as well, but her dad laughingly reminded her that they would be coming back the next morning. They left the Reclamation Center and took the monorail back into the city.

"Where are we heading now?"

Mr. Mendi put a hand up to his inside coat pocket to make sure he had the proper papers. Then he answered, "We're going to an estate auction. When somebody dies without a will, the personal effects are put on open lot for bidding. In this case, one of the things Ms. Wilson left behind was her entire library on the platypus environment and habits, along with her personal notes on that subject. I've been authorized by the Reclamation Center to bid on it."

Jacine shook her head in slight wonderment, "In the U.S., if someone dies, the High Council claims the effects and parcels them out -- or not -- where it will."

"Military." Mr. Mendi nodded in sage wisdom.

"Not military -- High Council." Annoyance was plain in her voice.

"Same thing, the RCF is just an extension of the High Council."

"That's the ICS. Not the RCF."

"The RCF first lost and then failed to rescue your mother."

Jacine growled under her breath.

Her dad looked over, slightly apologetically, "Shall we agree to disagree?"

"No." Jacine spoke shortly, then attempted a grin, "But we can shelve the arguement like we usually do."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up." Mr. Mendi apologized.

Jacine shrugged, then got up as the monorail slowed down towards their stop. Mr. Mendi pointed out some of the local sights, such as the still standing Opera House. As they went into the building where the auction was, a person handed them programs of what was on the block. Further in, another person handed out and recorded the bid cards that the people would use to indicate if they wished to up or agree on an auctioneer's price. Mr. Mendi took one, with the scanner reading the company's account, and the young man started to also hand one to Jacine, who reached out for it.

Her dad looked at her dubiously, "Are you sure, Jacine?"

She laughed, "You never know what might strike my fancy."

"But this will be a very high-priced auction. Can you afford it?"

At that question, the young man also looked dubious and pulled back the bid card.

Jacine developed a thoughtful look, "I have no idea." She unhooked her compuset and moved to one side.

"Let's see. This should be my current average monthly expenses."

A number showed on the read-out. Mr. Mendi, who had moved next to her to see, gasped in shock. "That's your monthly expense!!?"

Jacine looked up at him, surprised. Then she colored slightly, "Well, the computer banks use a lot of energy. The house-keeping as well. And I've been Gating to Island City almost every weekend... That's added in. My mechanics and odds and ends for fiddling around tend to add up. The VRInterNet costs..." Thinking of another expense, she turned a deeper shade of red. "And lately I've been funding a lot of Craig's electronic parts -- his budget isn't very high."

Her dad looked at her speculatively, then looked back at the read-out, "And what's your income?"

"Humm." She punched a few buttons and a series of entries took the place of the first. "That one is the long-standing patent usage income. The next is the average of the mechanical repairs that I make that I can't ethically charge at-cost. Then there's the standard contract fees -- that varies a lot, this is the lowest average. The special design orders... they could go under contracts, but they're not, really. Jonathan's been playing with some of the money, and these are the dividends. The last is the income from the patents on the Skeeters and variations."

Mr. Mendi sounded a low whistle. "All that? Just from your... Mobile Communication Units?"

Jacine shrugged, "They're popular. And have a lot of potential applications. Actually, that's only my half. 23 gets half as well." She scrolled the read-out. "Less, of course, not only the routine monthly expenses, but the loss that occurs on, umm, philanthropic projects and my usual payments on other people's patents that I use." A few more buttons were pressed. "The income covers the outcome rather well." Jacine sounded genuinely surprised. She scrolled the screen again, "And then this is the amount in my Savings."

"My God!" was her dad's first reaction, then he stared at the read-out for some time, silent. The young man doing the bid cards grew curious and asked permission to see it. Jacine obligingly turned the screen to face him. The dark-brown skin turned as pale as was possible, and a small choking noise emerged from his throat. Silently, he handed her a bid card and turned away.

Jacine frowned after him, then the computer received her expression. Last, she raised an eyebrow towards her father. Mr. Mendi hemmed, "Ah, let's go inside."

She allowed herself to be maneuvered into the room and over to a seat. But then she insisted on a response. "Well?"

Another cough was her first reply. Then her dad said, "Your income, Jacine, is... uhh..." Looking for words, he tentatively tried, "A lot more than most people's. And your Savings... Well, it's bigger than the entire year's budget at the Reclamation Center."

Jacine frowned again. "It's not average?"

That statement startled a laugh out of her father, "Definitely not!" He looked at her with curiosity, "Hasn't Jonathan explained any of this to you?"

She waved a hand, "He tries every now and again. It's full of lots of accounting talk and I never understand what he says." A sunny smile emerged from where she usually kept it, "I don't tell him that I didn't understand."

"Obviously."

There was a commotion towards the front of the room and quiet started descending upon the area as people's attention focused.

Jacine ignored the first part of the bidding, trying to work out in her mind the implications of her realized financial status. It's time to go shopping! And there were a lot of places that could use the money. The Reclamation Center was an obvious one. Jacine didn't think much of the High Council, but her friends had been pointing out that the RCF lacked a lot in funds and resources. On the other hand, one was never sure if money went where it was intended in large organizations. Continuing to fund 23's experiments was probably the best bet. And maybe Tamlynn... For a split second, a thought that wasn't usually hers flashed through her mind, would she be offended if I asked? She blinked in astonishment at the thought, then shrugged it off.

Musical notes floated through the air and caught her attention. Jacine looked up. On the platform, a person was sitting on a bench, creating the musical notes and showing variations. Jacine made a sound in the back of her throat. A Synthesizer! And a good one at that. I haven't seen a Synth since... She cut off that thought with a practiced divergent. The bidding started. For awhile, Jacine just listened. It reminds me of... happy times. Before she considered beyond the idea, Jacine joined in the bidding and was surprised when they got to the end.

"Sold! To Bid-Card Two-Three. Number Twenty-Three. Next on the list we have..."

Jacine turned her bid-card around to look at it. Shaking her head in befuddlement, her non-thoughts were interrupted by her dad whispering to her.

"What are you going to do with a synthesizer?"

"Umm." Well, what's your answer to that? The thought sounded in Wren's sarcastic voice. "I'll think of something." I wonder if Rhin wants a synthesizer...

Tamlynn looked with surprise at the enormous stack of boxes on her door-step. She absently scribbled her name on the acceptance slip and the parcel man started to leave with a sigh of relief.

"Whoa!" Tamlynn called him back to help her move the boxes inside the house. The big one barely fit through the doors, but it was surprisingly light. One of the smallest ones took the gurney to move.

When they were all in (and she'd tipped the parcel man), Tamlynn read the address slip on the biggest box: 'Rhiannon Shea, c/o Dr. McLendon... Return address: Jacine Mendi, Australia...' Then a medium sized one: 'Tamlynn McLendon... same return address...' She looked in vain towards the sky, "Jas... What on Earth have you done now?"

Azami answered the com in RCF headquarters. "Captain Azami here. Tam! Do you need the Colonel, or Dr. Helding?" Her hands poised over the transfer controls.

"Neither. I was calling you and the rest of the Gang."

"Oh." Azami gave her a sheepish grin. "What's up?"

Michael heard the conversation and he wandered over. 23 followed curiously. Rhin saw them gathering and she finished up a set of computations and joined them.

Tamlynn looked over the assembled group, "Do you people just sit around waiting for something to happen?"

They all laughed. Michael answered, "To tell the truth, yes."

"If you all could drop by my house after work..." Her eyes rested on something to the side of the vidscreen. "Let me rephrase that: I think you definitely need to come over tonight."

The Gang looked at each other in surprise, then back at Tam. She had a look of puzzlement on her face, and it appeared that it'd been there for awhile. They looked at each other again.

23 spoke first, "Are you going to give us a hint?"

"And is this good or bad?" Rhin put in.

Michael counted people gathered around, "All of us? Anybody else?"

Tamlynn consulted a lengthy looking list in her hand and answered Michael's question first, "Rhiannon, Azami, 23, Michael, Craig-23, Craig, Michael, Azami, 'The Doctor of the House'... Yeah, right. Azami, Tamlynn... Uh, it looks like it just us. No... Who on Earth is 'Thumper'?" She looked up at the vidscreen.

For the most part, the Gang was confused. "'Thumper'??" But there was one person who was conspicuously quiet. Gradually, they all looked to him. "Michael?"

He turned as bright a red as they'd ever seen him.

"'Thumper'?!?!?!?"

Finally he mumbled out a sort-of an explanation, "I wanted to be Bambi, but they vetoed it. Then they were going to call me Flower. I nixed that... We compromised on Thumper..." His voice trailed off in embarrassment.

It was with great restraint (and quite a few looks towards the corner where Colonel Valdoon was working) that none of them started howling with laughter.

Azami finally managed to choke out, "You realize that we're going to have to hear more about this..."

Michael looked resigned as well as embarrassed as he nodded.

23 recovered his poise first, "Is it okay if we have dinner at your place?" Receiving an affirmative answer, he continued, "Than I think we'll be over as soon as our shift is over -- about an hour." He looked around to make sure that was all right with everybody. There didn't seem to be any problems, without a single exception (unless Michael, who was still a shade of pink, counted) they looked eager to head over there that instant.