"Back so soon, Cox?"

Talmor didn’t turn his head as he walked, but shot back a reply, "Not all of us take three months for a simple assignment."

He had already passed by, so the person’s attempt at a rejoinder was weak both in volume and content. Somebody closer to him remarked, "Anything but simple, I take it. How’d you get hurt?"

"Classified." This time Talmor replied with a slight grin. Some laughter followed -- in the ICS, all assignments were classified.

Talmor passed through a door on the far side of the cubicled room, leaving behind the laughter and almost easy camaraderie.

The single person in the room looked around, "Ah, Evening, Tal-," a brief hesitation was all the reaction the man gave of his surprise as he saw the agent's appearance, and he finished up with perfect calm, "mor." He looked him up and down. "Didn't get out of that one so easy, did you?" A sardonic smile lit the unhandsome face. "Get rid of some of those good looks, and maybe some others can take your place."

Talmor snorted, "Never." He sat down in a chair and propped his leg up on the console, not hitting any of the controls. "The situation is contained, Commander Bryant. I turned in a full report before I left the hospital."

"I know you did." Bryant turned back to the screens. "Your previous cover is still intact. The urgent work you left hanging was finished by Kurt, in your style." The word 'urgent' had been spoken with a trace of scorn.

Tal laughed, "We're still the free-market capital of the world, though Sao Paulo gives us a run for the money. If those urgent files hadn't been finished the company would have lost millions and--"

"I know all that. It's just that compared to lives..." Bryant drummed his fingers and didn't finish. Tal didn't pick up from where he was interrupted. It was an old argument between them, and Talmor saw both sides as being equal. So did Bryant. The ICS had to balance all concerns, and keep the interests of Nacocs foremost.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Bryant spoke first, "Anyhow, I’m glad you’re back. Your timing, is, as always, impeccable." Bryant's voice concealed worry and relief, and Talmor looked at him in surprise. Bryant gestured towards a panel.

Talmor recognized the configuring codes of the surveillance data, and exploded, "Oh good god! What’s the Cracker Jak done now?" He raised a hand to rub his forehead. It had been a long month.

"I’m glad she’s your case." This time Bryant spoke with ill-concealed amusement. Talmor glared, even though he privately agreed that she was a handful -- no one ever knew what she would do next. That was the whole problem with the Cracker Jak, one minute she’d be working on legitimate projects, the next breaking top secret codes just for fun. And then there was... With a sigh, he repeated the earlier question with some rewording, "What’s up with Jacine Mendi?"

"I've had Sal do most of the casual monitoring, but he passed it on to me. We’re not sure what's up. They -- she and some friends -- left dinner after what seemed to be an intense planning session, and she’s been closeted with Lt. Colonel 23 for the last five hours. The Colonel has always been loyal to the RCF, but they’re in her brother’s apartment, not a workroom."

Talmor smothered a grin, but Bryant saw it. "Oh come on -- this is Jak!"

"I know. Don’t get worked up." He swung his leg down from the console and sat upright. Working the codes, Tal brought up the surveillance and activity reports on Mendi for the last month. Almost the first thing was Michael Mendi’s accident report. Damn. Talmor grimaced, That was a bad time to be called out on another job. I would not call that timing impecable. Jacine Mendi’s psyc profile showed a heavy dependence on her brother, combined with a fierce protectiveness. The agents of Softsafe and ICS who had to deal with the Cracker Jak knew that she had almost no morals of her own. She was guided only by what seemed interesting, and what tended to keep her out of trouble was only Jak’s desire not to have any of her problems reflect on her brother. If her brother ever died, Island City and the RCF would be in big trouble. The agents of ICS had considered using their influence to keep Michael Mendi out of the dangerous fields, but they only interfered with citizen’s lives if they were a direct threat to the people and the country of Nacocs. Mendi, the brother, was not a threat, and the ICS would not take it upon themselves to oppose a choice he’d made. Besides, the High Council would never approve the paperwork.

Talmor finished examining the information and leaned back in the chair. I hate reports. Admittedly, he hated creating them more than viewing, but... I just don’t know. He was bothered by all that had gone on while he was gone. The new group of friends that the brother had gathered around himself... All citizens by choice, all first gen youth drug, all RCF or RCF support -- and each with a psych profile of intense personal loyalty. Normally, that would not be a bad grouping -- more just what the lonely half-recessive would need to help his development and growth as a citizen; but then Jak got added into the equation... Maybe they could get Jak to accept another assignment overseas to get her out of the area for awhile. But she just finished up with the Tangier Project. From past experience, Talmor knew that she wouldn’t be interested in other jobs for some time. But what is she up to now? He could wait and see -- but in other projects, the end results she published were not indicative of what else might have been planned or designed.

"Bryant." Talmor waited until the other person paused what he was doing. "I’m going to activate the surveillance on Mendi."

The lean man stretched, nearly touching the ceiling. "Oh joy. One second of unwarned actions."

"Sometimes one second is all that’s needed."

"Yep." Bryant moved out the door, "Don’t actually start until I get back -- I want one of our new scanner people to see this."

"I’ll work on the clearance." Talmor started punching codes and justifications, waiting with not a sign of impatience as the request to initiate active surveillance (as opposed to the passive surveillance that gathered the general data) proceeded though the various levels of approval. He was still waiting when Bryant got back.

Talmor hovered his hand over the return key, "Now pay attention -- this will be quick." He hit the key, and a picture formed on the screen of fairly standard domicile quarter, with designs and flimsies spread everywhere. A dark-haired caucasian man was sitting on the floor, his body angled mostly away from the view. A blonde caucasian woman was on the couch facing the man and mostly framed in the view. For a split second the scene looked relaxed and comfortable, though the man appeared deep in thought as he leaned back against a coffee table. In the next moment, the viewers had a slightly disconcerting experience as the woman turned her head to apparently stare directly at them, her mouth tightening in a frown, and eyes shading dark. She abruptly stood, "I’ll leave you to that, 23. I’m going to make sure we can get the materials before we end up designing something completely impractical." She left the room, every nuance of her stance and body radiating annoyance and anger. Talmor reached over and split the screen, having one follow the woman, while the other remained in the room. He adjusted the focus dial for the one in the room, zooming in on some of the designs lying loose.

"She knew we were scanning her! The instant we turned on, she knew! She even knew where our vid was!" The agent-in-training sputtered with astonishment.

Bryant grinned ruefully, "Told you."

"I didn’t actually believe it. I’ve studied those scanners. I’ve tested them myself. The latest and greatest..." He was developing a resigned look on his face instead of the startled one that had been there before.

"That’s the Cracker Jak. Only the Hydra is better with the systems. What can you tell me about Jak’s systems from that observation?" Bryant started quizzing the agent.

Talmor listened with one ear, but was studying the diagrams and evaluating the two people on the screen. The Colonel was activating the computer and bringing up information on the Shields. Talmor blinked, the Energy Shields? The equations that were transferring over, that the Colonel was altering, were related to the conversion units, reducing the parameters. Obviously not liking the answer, the Colonel cursed a few times and started over.

Jak was walking down the corridors, heading roughly in the direction of the North Pyramid. The ‘This and That Scraps Boutique’, Talmor estimated. Jak was still looking angry and every now and again glanced to areas that were most likely for scanner points. Talmor reached out and switched off both scanners.

Bryant halted mid-sentence, his eyebrow raising in question.

Talmor shrugged, "I found out what I needed to." He stared at the dark screen, "What she’s working on is legit enough."

"You figured out the diagrams?" The new agent looked startled, but not surprised.

"Hardly," Talmor chose a grin to accompany that remark, then flicked his eyes to Bryant, "What could you deduce from her reaction?"

"Shoe’s on the other foot." Bryant accepted the change in instruction easily enough. "She was furious when she realized we were scanning. The Colonel didn’t notice and she didn’t inform him. He’s always been straight, and didn’t appear nervous. He thinks it’s a legit project. Jak’s anger could be either pure annoyance that we’re scanning her, or reaction against getting trapped." He turned to the other agent, "That’s one of the reasons we assign cases to individual people. I can tell that much just from knowing the usual routine. Agent Cox, here, can tell you which, or neither, of my ideas was correct, and you saw how little time he took to determine it. He knows Jacine Mendi, and which way she’ll jump."

Talmor shrugged, "Not always. Even after having watched her for 14 years, I still can’t predict her." He looked at the screens, "In this case, though, I’d say her project was legit. Not planned, and not funded, but something that will help Nacocs in the end. You were right about the Colonel, and the anger that Jak showed was her ‘righteous anger’. We’re scanning, and she’s in the right." Tal briefly looked to the ceiling as if searching for patience. "When we’ve scanned her in illegal activities, her more common reaction is to be mocking or sarcastic because we usually can’t prove anything."

He got up from the chair and stretched. "I’m going to activate my cover. If they get done with their project, she’ll be patenting it, and I want to try and get in the action this time."

"Tal -- how’re you going to explain..." Bryant gestured at the red wounds still streaking down the side of his face despite two days in regen, and including by implication the limp when he walked.

Talmor grinned wryly, "Why, while on vacation, I fell when mountain climbing, of course." He left while softly whistling ‘Bridge over the River Kwie’.

Jacine stretched out on Michael’s bed and yawned. She was absolutely beat. The covers around her felt so good, so soft and warm. Snuggling into them, Jas could feel herself starting to drift off. I wonder if 23 is as tired as I am. Her lips twitched sympathetically, and he’s got that meeting. Meeting. Oops. Jacine levered herself out of the bed reluctantly and made her way to the computer. Normally she didn’t need that much sleep, but when she worked on a project, she put one hundred percent of herself into it. Today, it felt like it’d been one-twenty. Working with 23 had been a unique experience. She was mostly a lone wolf when she designed, though she worked well with other engineers on projects. But when she was with 23, the ideas between them just seemed to flow back and forth with near perfect understanding and a good complement on abilities. Jacine’s skills were drawn out and sharpened. Six miniature models in one night. Jacine moved a hand from the keyboard to rub her eyes. I can’t believe I made six models in one night. The screen in front of her prompted for another input. She automatically entered her name, then added 23’s as well, hesitating over it. Does he have a last name? Craig-23... Maybe ‘23’ is the last name. But it’s the name that everybody uses. Oh heck. If the patent office doesn’t like it, they’ll let me know. After she entered the last line, she stumbled straight back to bed, pulling herself along the furniture and not even trying to use her leg. Bed. Oh, nice bed. This time, she let herself fall into a deep sleep as soon as she crawled in the covers.

Actually, if they have to scan to avoid the Recs, that data would be just as useful as the communications. How much can I cram into these little critters? How large can Jacine make them? Of course, the more I put in them, the more electronic noise there’ll be, and the more annoying to Recessives... It was a trade-off. 23 tried to approximate some of the balances.

"You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Have you?" A hand turned off the monitor as a voice broke into 23’s thoughts.

23 looked guiltily up, "I’m sorry, Tom?"

Valdoon sighed and traded glances with Dr. Helding. They knew that 23 tended to get wrapped up in his projects, but this was extreme. Behind them, Mendi chuckled, "I think Jacine’s corrupted him already. She doesn’t notice a thing when she’s working."

The heat rose up 23’s face. "I’m sorry," he repeated, "Was it about the Mosquitoes?"

"Skeeters." A lazy drawl pronounced. Heads turned around.

"What?"

Andy grinned in that relaxed manner of his, and repeated himself, "Not Mosquitoes. Sounds too silly when you’re cussing ‘em out. Where I came from, we called them Skeeters."

Valdoon smothered a laugh, but remarked seriously, "Later, Andy. 23, I was asking for a run-down of the location of the Crazy Eights."

"Right. Sorry." 23 apologized again, then pulled up the relevant details from the computer, after turning the monitor back on. "Pie 7B." He looked at the incoming data and added, "For the most part. Uh, is there a reason why?"

The officers exchanged looks of amusement. Tom shook his head at his old friend, "23..." He gave up and looked to Andy who answered the question, "Medlab wants to check on the condition of the lady Recessive who broke her arm last week. Reviewing the tapes, they think she might have been in a family way."

"Really?" That was news indeed.

"Did you pay attention to anything at the briefing besides your Skeeters?"

"Not really." 23 smothered a yawn. "Designs kept flashing though my head, circuiting routes, terrain problems, --"

"We get the idea." Valdoon shook his head, "23, go to bed. I know you don't get your vitals chip monitored unless we're on a mission, but if I ordered Sam to look at you now, I bet--"

"Your energy level would be zero." Dr. Helding, Michael, and Andy all chimed in unison.

23 grimaced at the combined good-humored sarcasm. "I'd argue with you just on principle, but..." He got up and suppressed another yawn. "See you later folks."

As he left, he heard Tom saying, "Okay, Andy, you're temporarily recruited as a member of HazLib One. Sit down at that scanner console." Andy's reply came cheerfully, "Yes Sir, Colonel Sir." 23 chuckled as he made his way out.

When HazLib officers weren't in the field, they got one hour for lunch. Normally Michael took lunch in the cafeteria with 23 and the others, but today he wanted to see how his sister was doing. She might still be asleep, but he rather doubted it and could at least check. He waved a quick goodbye to Rhin and Azami and dashed off to his quarters. He was almost there when he came across Jacine limping down the corridor. She'd had time for a quick shower and her hair was still wet. She almost passed him by, but he caught her arm, "Hey, sibling, not even a hi?"

Jacine stopped, looked in his direction, and blushed, "Sorry Michael." She grinned, "Plans are still running through my head, but I'm trying to dislodge them, I have to get back to work."

"Work?"

"Cecilia."

"But I bet you haven't even taken the time for a meal yet."

"Umm..." Jacine didn't look at her brother.

"Right. I was about to have lunch." Still keeping hold of her arm, Michael continued on back to his quarters, incidentally dragging her with him. Jacine came willingly enough, with a slight grin showing she wasn't annoyed.

"Hi Cecilia. Sorry I'm late." Jacine took off her jacket and tossed it over a chair, ignoring the looks the RCF personnel were giving her.

General Cecilia Mede turned her attention from the data board to Jacine. A very non-military grin spread across her face, "That's all right. I've already heard about it. As a point of fact, I'm surprised you're here at all."

Jacine made a throw-away gesture with her left hand.

"You can use the console in my office. I need to finish up things out here and then I'll be in with you." The General turned back to the data board again. Jacine snagged her jacket and wandered to the back office.

Minutes went by and stretched to an hour or more before Cecilia came in. Once the door was closed, she heaved a large sigh and sat in the large leather chair behind her desk. She leaned back and put her feet up in a most non-military pose. "So, how's it lookin', kid."

Jacine looked up and around at the sound of Cecilia's voice. She wore a vague expression as if still mired in the documents she'd been reading. "Well, they've got a good concept. I don't know how practical it can be. The roughs they've sent up rely heavily on pre-meteor substances. Not cheap, nowadays."

Cecilia nodded. "That's a problem with most of my research scientists. Give them a lab stocked with every available gadget that will help them do their job on high priority projects and they lose a lot of their perspective of the everyday world."

"I do that too," Jacine shrugged. "Send it back, 'insufficient funds', and they'll regain their perspective real quick." She frowned, "That reminds me. Whatever happened to the gun turrets?"

Leaning back, Cecilia contemplated the ceiling, her chair tipped so far that Jacine did a quick calculation to make sure it wouldn't fall over. "It's not pretty."

"The ceiling?"

Cecilia broke into a laugh and sat up again, swinging her feet off the desk. "That too. I need to do like 23 and put a mural up there."

"Craig has a mural on his ceiling?" Jacine's attention was diverted.

"Yes, but I wouldn't recommend you ask to see it." Cecilia indulged in a wicked chuckle. "It's a subject of much discussion among the younger female officers, and provides me with a chance to be very authoritarian when I walk in on them."

Jacine raised an eyebrow and her mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Ah."

"Not that the mural itself is terrible risqué, quite the opposite."

"I get... the picture, as it 'twere." The two women started laughing, as they exchanged glances.

Cecilia stood up, her laughter trailing off, "Goodness. Please don't let the poor dear know I told you about that." She walked over to the console Jacine had been working on. "Let's see. Those files were... Please turn your back, dear. I know you can access these nearly as well as I can, but I really shouldn't give you more of an opportunity than I need to."

Grinning, Jacine complied.

"Ah, here we go. What’s your opinion of this?" Cecilia stepped back, and Jacine swung her chair around again to study the design layouts that the General had called up.

At first glance, the plans looked like her old ones for the Tranquilizer Gun Turrets. Then Jacine studied them some more, noting in particular the materials listing.

"How strange. It’s similar to the Trank Turrets, but the materials are the standard reinforced composite aluminum -- which we can no longer make. A theoretical design only. And the energy mix chamber is way too large..." Jacine caught her breath, "That’s not a Trank Turret! That’s a design for a Laser Cannon Turret! The focusing beams and refractors increase the laser output... Frack. That’s deadly." She turned to Cecilia, "I thought we had a non-kill policy towards the Recs."

The General’s eyes glinted. "We do. That is a plan our intelligence agents obtained from the Republic of Swizlanda States. And they aren’t planned for Recs."

"Oh." Jacine was silent for a moment, reviewing what she knew of the touchy situation in the area formerly Switzerland. It was still unsettled, small groups vying back and forth for nominal control of the lands and cities. Just before the Cataclysm, too many people had rushed there, expecting a safe haven. Overload on the resources and the lack of effective governmental controls brought about total collapse during the disaster. 97% of the people living there were killed by famine, disease, and other natural and biological effects. When the environment had stabilized, the lack of people meant no Recessives, and that, combined with the natural land barriers and structurally intact cities made the land a prime position for resettlement. Currently, there were six factions still struggling for dominance over the area. None of the factions were claimed directly by any stabilized country. The Republic of Switz was considered minor, but was holding its own.

"Don’t we have enough worries without fighting ourselves?" Jacine tapped her fingers on the side of her chair.

"You would think so." Cecilia sighed, her face losing laugh lines and showing those of age. "Anyhow, that’s the reason we can’t put your Trank Turrets out. Others have come up with the idea, but no other country has yet made a successful one."

Jacine blinked, "It’s a simple enough concept."

"As the design proves. But the materials is what holds people back. Most of the R&D scientists cannot seem to get beyond the use of the reinforced aluminum, and try mainly for metal composites to gain the same strengths and reflective properties. The heat tolerances generally are understrength, and so on. When they try ceramics, they work with the traditional mixes used in the Space programs hundreds of years ago." Her mouth quirked, "Tried and true. Our ICS had a very hard time burying the designs we worked on, and all roughs were destroyed. We don’t want to be responsible for the mass destruction of thousands of humans in Switzerland."

Jacine looked steadily at her, "But what about our people?"

Cecilia’s voice was firm as she answered, "Command decision, Jacine. I have to look at the whole picture."

The fingers on the side of the chair tapped harder, and Jacine scowled. "But what happens if they develop it on their own?"

"Don’t even think it. Friend or no friend, you’d be under ban and prohibited from all parts of Nacocs territory."

Jacine shrugged.

"And you’d never see your brother or family again."

She shrugged again, "It was a thought. What if the Republic ‘loses’ their plans?"

Cecilia walked back to her desk and sat down, folding her hands into a triangle, "As you mentioned, it’s a simple enough concept. There are a lot of scientists out there who can reproduce the basic plan with practically no thought -- as long as we don’t give them your recipe."

Jacine frowned. Her design had worked extensively with mixes of ceramics made from what she termed ‘meteor dust’. A long time ago, she’d had a chemist analyzed the materials she used for her statues, and found unusual properties in nuked dust. She hadn’t had any use for the specific properties of refractive density until the Turret project, but... "Well then, it’s a good thing for you that I haven’t completed another project in the last four years that involved the ceramics."

It was Cecilia’s turn to shrug. "We hoped the situation would resolve itself. Out of the dozens of areas of unrest, beyond Switzerland, there are only three that are only peripherally interested in Turret Guns. If those parties dissolved, or the situations resolved peacefully, we could go ahead with our Trank Turrets and keep their Intelligence busy with brush fires." She sighed and laid her hands flat on the desk in front of her, "But so far it hasn’t happened."

"Umm." Jacine’s face was unreadable, and she swiveled back to the monitor. "I could design it differently."

The General made a non-committal noise.

Jacine suddenly laughed, "Or I could join the ICS and resolve the problem on my own." She turned her gaze to the left of the room and swept her hand in a wide gesture to an open hand offer. She chuckled again, but it was more mocking this time.

Cecilia sat upright, "They’re scanning us now?"

Jacine reply was almost indifferent, "Yeah. They’ve been scanning me on and off since I worked on the Mosquitoes yestereve. I was a bit annoyed at first, but it’s no big deal."

Closing her eyes for patience, Cecilia sighed, "My dear Jacine..." There was a long pause, "Oh never mind."

23 was surprised to find himself awake -- he’d just barely laid down, tired as could be... He looked at the cronset. Fourteen hundred? I’ve been asleep for five hours? He swung his legs out of bed and just sat there for a moment, elbows on his legs, chin in his hands. After a minute of this, 23 tried an experimental yawn. He didn’t actually feel tired anymore... I guess I could get up. What else needs doing? Instantly on the thought were the circuiting patterns that had been in his head before he fell asleep. He stumbled almost blindly to the next room where his computer was and started entering data.

Ah ha! That’s the pattern! Now, with the chips boarded up, how much safety margin will I need? I think I can rely on Jacine’s program not to send them over a cliff, but how about an accidentally slide down a ravine? If a Rec gets ahold of them, they’re dead. Unless playing dead is a defense. In which case, the Rec would probably still toss it around, but not smash it. 23 twirled his light pen around in his fingers. A spasming of his muscles sent the pen flying and he directed an annoyed look after it, but didn’t get up. It joined three more pens and a few assorted other items on the floor. Opening his desk drawer, 23 pulled out another one. I’d better give it a safety margin of 5+. Actually, I’d better leave that to Jacine. She’ll know the figures better than I. He put the pen down and moved the trackball, then typed a note on the side of the screen. Saving the file, 23 thought about the next step. Okay, chips designed, converter problem solved, I think -- have to try it out. He pulled up another screen and entered it in his ‘to be done’ list. ‘To be is to do.’ ‘To do is to be.’ ‘Do be, do be do.’ Darn it, now I’m thinking in quotes. He grinned and thought briefly about pasting that quote up on his computer. With an impulsive decision, he typed it in bold at the top of his list. He regarded it with amusement, then closed out the files. Time to see Jacine. I want to know if she solved the Rec differential program yet.

He stood up, and then grabbed at the desk as his legs threatened to cramp up. "Ouch!" 23 looked at the chronset. "Twenty-one? It’s nine o’clock at night? Geeze." His bladder suddenly announced it’s fullness and desire to be emptied. He limped over to the bathroom. After, he looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced at the fuzzy growth over his face, the disheveled and twisted hair, and the rumpled boxer shorts he’d worn to bed twelve hours ago. "I am not going out like this!"

A half-hour later, 23 felt at least mildly presentable, and headed out down the corridor. He knocked on Michael’s door, and then had to balance the data disks that threatened to fall out of his hands. "Hi, Michael!"

Michael grinned at his friend, "Come on in, 23." He moved back and sat down on his reclining chair, where he picked up the book he’d been reading.

The room was very quiet. 23 looked around and finally saw Jacine sitting in plain view on the couch. Her feet were propped up on the coffee table, and her hands formed a triangle, which she was steadily staring into. 23 watched her for a moment. Other than her breathing, she didn’t move at all.

"She’s thinking."

"What?"

Michael was watching 23 over the top of his book. "Jacine’s thinking. You’ll have to do something extreme to get her attention at this point."

23 looked at the motionless Jacine and then back at Michael. 23’s expression was incredulous, but at the same time he had to believe Michael.

Michael started laughing. He picked up a koush ball on the table next to him and tossed it at Jacine. It bounced off her with no apparent effect. He tossed another one. This time Jacine blinked, then turned her head to look at her brother. One eyebrow rose very expressionately. Michael gestured towards 23, "Company, sib."

"Hi, Jacine," 23 said, rather weakly.

Jacine regarded him with an unfocused gaze, then her attention sharpened. "23. What do you know about Switzerland?"

"Switzerland???" Those green eyes were steady upon him, and 23 gathered his wits about him again. "Uh. It’s in Europe?" Michael laughed again, and 23 looked desperately at his friend, then tried again. "It’s a former European country currently not incorporated. There are eight factions trying to claim the area, but mostly just making things worse. Current trends favor the "Viathropos" group, but that changes regularly. Its resources are mainly in pre-cataclysm cities, but scavenging has been fierce and it is unclear how much remains. It was never nuked, and if given a chance to recover, the conditions are good for a bio-rehab and future farming."

Michael was looking surprised and impressed. Jacine just looked, period. 23 spread his hands out, accidentally dropping the data disks.

"Dang." 23 knelt down to pick them up and Michael moved over to help him.

Jacine finally spoke, "Eight factions? I know about six." And she listed them.

23 stayed kneeling on the carpet and a fierce blush spread over his face. Michael regarded him curiously before getting up and putting the data disks on the desk. Jacine raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth starting to curve up in a smile.

"Uh..." 23 fumbled for something to say.

Jacine opened her mouth to comment, then appeared to think better of it. She laughed softly, "I’m sorry, 23. You came over to talk about the Mosquitoes, didn’t you."

Two voices broke in on the end of her statement, correcting her, "Skeeters."

Looking from her brother to his friend, Jacine’s eyes glinted in amusement, "What?"

"Skeeters." Michael grinned at 23, "Andy corrected us on that this morning."

"Skeeters." Jacine also grinned, "Okay."

23 was grateful for the turn of conversation, but felt he should explain the earlier slip. "The other two factions are a little better at cloak and dagger. One of my brothers is a professional."

The two siblings looked at him with surprise. Michael asked, "Professional, what?"

23 grimaced. "Professional terrorist/spy/assassin/infiltrator/guerrilla-at-large, etceteras. Whatever pays well. And there’s a lot that does now. It is after all, what we were originally designed for." 23 felt the old familiar hate and pain as he remembered his childhood. At times, he really disliked the government.

"But I thought--" Michael clamped his mouth shut on the rest.

23 grinned sourly. "Well, I wouldn’t classify 9 as ‘normal’. He’s very psychopathic. Not necessarily a deterrent in his line of work, but not someone you want to hang out with, either."

"Ahhh..." Michael decided not to touch that subject. But apparently Jacine didn’t have the same restraints, "Your family stays in touch with each other?"

23 didn’t look very happy, but he answered, "Some of us make an effort. Then they make sure everybody else knows too." He waved a hand that half-clenched into a fist, then he looked away from the siblings and stood up. He moved to the desk where the computer was, carefully not paying attention as Michael shook his head at his sister and gestured for her to drop the subject.

Jacine came over next to 23 and randomly inserted one of the disks in the computer. Her mouth quirked up, "You solved the converter problem."

23 returned his thoughts to the Skeeters, "I was wondering what your safety margins were." He took out that disk and put in a different one, "I designed the chips, but need to know the buffer zones."

"Dust."

"What?"

Jacine laughed, "Never mind -- stray thought. Uh, let’s see..."

Michael pulled up another chair and made his sibling sit down before she strained her leg. She hardly noticed, already deep in discussion with 23. Smiling, he moved back to the couch and the book Tamlynn had loaned him.

Closing the book with a sigh, Michael leaned back and thought about Dragons and Elves. I like the Gnomes. He regarded his coffee table and reached out to twist a carved leaf on the side. A synthesized voice spoke, "Palm Print, or Retina Scan?"

"Retina Scan." Michael knelt on the floor and stared directly at an eye in the center of a rose. When the box had identified him, it opened.

"Wow."

Michael looked up to see 23’s amazed eyes watching the table as it moved around. I’d almost forgotten they were here. Michael glanced to Jacine, who was standing behind 23 but looking at her brother. She grinned as their eyes met, and limped around to settle down on the couch Michael had just vacated. "What’s up?"

"Gnomes."

Jacine leaned over, resting a hand on Michael’s shoulder. She studied the castle, then touched a corner. A projection screen formed in the air in front of them. Michael turned an oak leaf until a detailed map focused in front of them. 23 moved to see better. All three were silent for several minutes, though Michael and Jacine kept moving the map around. Finally, Michael turned it off.

"I think it’s feasible."

Jacine grinned, "I’ll help write a proposal, with biological constraints and habitation regions and we’ll see what--" she broke off, carefully not looking at 23, then finished, "our friends think of the idea."

"Magic needs no science." Michael sniffed. Then he laughed, and closed up the table. There was a sigh from beside them as 23 regretfully watched the magic disappear inside the box. He looked a question to Michael, who grinned at him, but gave no explanation.

23 looked at his wristcron and gave a second sigh. "I think I better head back and let you get some rest."

"Not going to offer me your quarters tonight?" Michael was amused.

23 cast a longing glance at the computer, but a glint of charm showed that he was teasing. He packed up all his disks but one, which he left on the desk with a grin at Jacine.

"Oh, 23. Come to supper tomorrow -- I’m inviting the Twins and Tamlynn too."

"How about me?" Michael demanded of his sister, who rolled her eyes.

"Supper? Where?"

"Here." Jacine spread a hand out indicating the room they were in. Michael ducked. Jacine swatted him gently. "You’re in a good mood tonight."

23 looked dubiously around, "You’re going to have it brought in?"

Jacine gave him a very curious look, "No -- I’m going to cook it. It’s been ages since Michael has had a home-cooked meal, and he’s looking a bit skinny." She poked her brother in the ribs, who flinched with a well-developed tickle reflex. "You’re really a City person, aren’t you?"

23 shrugged, mildly embarrassed. He offered, "Tamlynn cooks -- her mom taught her. I’ve made some cookies with her."

"Well come early..." Jacine shut her mouth abruptly, "Never mind. You need to spend the time with Rhin." Her eyes glinted mischievously, "Have you shown her the ceiling mural yet?"

23 blinked, started to say something, stopped, then blushed a furious red. He backed out the door with a hasty, "Goodnight!"

"Boy, Jacine -- you know how to get rid of them quick." Michael regarded the closed door with some amusement.

"I didn’t say anything they don’t!" Jacine protested.

"They don’t expect it from you." He prudently shifted away a few steps, "Sweet, gentle, quiet, innocent, little Jasie..."

"Oh, you!" Jacine grabbed a koush ball and threw it at him. A war promptly got underway. It only ended when both of them were on the floor laughing too hard to retaliate.

"We’re invited to what?" Azami swung her long legs as she perched on the table, watching Tamlynn as the lift-ladder rose with Tam on it as she put back the book they’d been looking at.

"A home-cooked meal." Tamlynn laughed, "She thinks Michael hasn’t been eating enough -- probably true."

"But I thought Jacine and Michael were City people." Though I know Jacine doesn’t live in IC. From what Michael has said about them -- not much -- I thought they were raised in Island City when they were young. Azami remembered last week when they’d taken Michael and 23 to a nifty spot she and Rhin had found in-between a couple of deserted buildings outside. One ducked under some fallen wood piles, crawled over some rubble, brushed aside a few vines, and eventually ended up in a beautiful little grotto, where the roof had collapsed in one corner, letting in sunshine and air, and the acoustics were just right for Rhin’s lap-harp. 23 had loved it. Michael had commented that it hadn’t changed much in sixteen years.

"No." Tamlynn punched a button and the lift-ladder moved over a couple of shelves and up another ten feet. "H section. H-Y-N.., H-U-N-T.., H-U-F-F. There we are. Tanya..." She pulled a book off the shelf, punched a different button, and the lift lowered down. "Michael’s fairly City adapted, but Jacine lives in a Frontier Town. From things she’s said, I gather that she and Michael lived out in the Wastelands with their mother until Jacine was hurt and they moved into the City for the medical treatments."

"Oh." Azami slipped from perching on the table to sitting in one of the chairs and rested her chin in her hands, thinking about it.

"Most of what I know is from talking to Jacine, so I get bits and pieces -- never the whole story." Tam pulled out the chair across from Azami and sat down. Wistfully, she added, "I’d love to hear it from Michael."

Azami raised her head off her hands and looked at her friend. A smile spread across her face at the look on Tam’s. "He is kindof cute -- nice bone structure." Azami moved a finger around the table as if to draw.

Tamlynn looked at her in astonishment, "Nice bone..." She laughed, "Azami -- you have a one track mind." The wistful smile returned, "Yeah, he’s handsome. Maybe not classical handsome, but... But I know a lot of handsome people. He’s..." Tam stumbled over trying to describe what attracted her to Michael. He was gentle -- but so was 23. He tended to be rather rude when Tamlynn was being his doctor, but ultra polite, somewhat distant, other times. He was big and strong and handsome and military -- like Tom; and Tamlynn really didn’t want to make that association. When he smiled, Tamlynn’s heart thumped in response, and she wished he would smile more often, but for all that, there wasn’t really anything special about his smile. He would give his life for his friends. He was upright and honest, but not sickening about it. Jacine loved him beyond anything. Tamlynn’s perspective might be colored a bit by hearing about Michael through his sister’s eyes.

"Hormones."

Startled out of her reflections, Tamlynn had to take a moment to absorb Azami’s remark. She grinned, "Yep. That’s it." Her mind drifted down to her lab, "Hormones." And nobody’s found them yet. Pheromones and chemical reactions and all that. I don’t think anybody really wants to truly unravel this one. It’s nice to have some mystery in relationships -- even if it is truly frustrating. Tamlynn pushed the book she’d taken down from the shelves over to Azami. "I really like this author -- she gets wonderful characters and societies..."

Rhin reached out and tickled 23's ribs. He flinched back, and glared at her. Rhin shrugged, "Well, considering where your hands were going..." She grinned wickedly at him.

"Oh, and you didn't want them there!" 23 rolled on his back and shifted a few inches away.

"Well, I wouldn't really mind, but I'm starting to get hungry, and I didn't want to get started on something that would take us an hour to finish." Rhin looked longingly at 23, reaching her hand out to an inch before his body and running it over his chest without actually touching him.

"You do that, we will get started." 23 hovered his hand over hers and touched the back of her hand gently with his forefinger. Slowly he moved the finger around to her palm. Rhin murmured in the back of her throat at the sensation and her thoughts. His dark eyes twinkled and he pulled her hand up to where he could kiss each finger separately and lingeringly.

Rhin half-closed her eyes feeling the sensation in her bones, then she sighed and rolled herself off the bed, pulling her hand from 23's, twisting as she got to the edge of the bed so she landed feet on the carpet, crouched and ready for action.

23 looked over the edge of the bed at her then put the pillow over his head. From under it, his muffled voice emerged, "How can you possibly have so much energy? Girl, you make me tired just watching you!" His tousled head appeared again from under the pillow.

Slinking across the room, Rhin stretched, glorying in her trim and muscular body. "I know other ways of tiring you out. Shall we try a few tomorrow?" Rhin didn't mind the occasional over-dosing, but did like to spread her treats out. She grinned at 23, quite satisfied with herself and him. 23 was a good friend and companion. His lovemaking was delicious and intimate without implying anything more than what either of them wanted. Rhin still wondered if someday she'd have a love like Tethys and Billy had, but until she did have it, she wouldn't tie herself down. 23 was a soul like herself, though, and could give pleasure, freely with the love of friends, and the commitment of friends, without laying claim to the person herself.

Rhin knew where every item in her room was to the precise centimeter. She angled herself a bit to one side and did three back-walkovers, turning each one slightly so that she avoided the dressers and moved around the bed. "Up! Slug-a-bed! If you're really nice, I'll let you take your shower with me."

Michael watched the transformation of his kitchen with fondness and amusement. He hadn’t realized how much he missed living with his sister. With his family, actually. But Jacine carried the family with her wherever she went. Always going from one thing to another, one place to another, she was at home wherever she was. As if on cue, Jacine broke off singing ‘John Barleycorn’ (after putting out the rice). She started up again on a different vein entirely, "Like a Roller in the Ocean, Life is Motion, Move on. Like a Wind that’s always blowin’, Life is goin’, Move on. Like the Sunrise in the Mornin’, Life is Golden, Move On..."

Shaking his head, Michael intercepted his sister and took the bowl of shredded cheese from her, spreading it over the tomato sauce, "Jas -- I’m glad you’re you."

Jacine looked at him in surprise, but then whirled around and rescued the stove from the water boiling over on it. She lowed the heat level and started tossing in scrubbed potatoes. After the lid covered the pot and no water was coming over the sides, she turned back to him, "You don’t mind, do you?"

She meant the dinner. That deserved a hearty laugh and he gave it one, "A little late now! Of course I don’t."

Once everybody got there and settled in, the food went very quickly. The meal wasn’t stylish or fancy, just a lot of well-cooked basics that Michael obviously liked. Tamlynn took notes, and after Jacine noticed her noticing, she remarked with a gleam that she’d send Tam the recipes along with some hints -- obstinately implying about the food preparation, but everybody there except Michael knew she meant something quite different. The conversation went in starts and spurts as people stopped talking to concentrate on their food.

"Good potatoes." Rhin piled more of them on her plate.

Azami commented, "Rhin lives on potatoes."

"Better then some other things I could think of. You better not eat too much of that applesauce."

"Michael has more."

"Michael has more of everything."

Tamlynn choked on her food, and Azami and Rhin looked at her, then at each other, then all of them started laughing almost hysterically. 23 and Jacine were keeping desperately straight faces, while Michael started getting very red.

"I meant the food!!!!" Rhin got out between gasps. "The FOOD, people!!!"

They gathered in the living room, with bowls of chocolate strawberries disappearing only a little less rapidly then they would have if all the people eating them weren’t completely stuffed. 23 studied

----------------

Tamlynn quickly followed Jacine into the bedroom. Jacine was sitting on the bed, leaning her head in her hands. She looked up when Tam came in, but didn’t say anything. Tam walked over and sat down next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Don’t worry about it," Tamlynn spoke cheerfully, "They’ll growl and spit a great deal, and compare biceps and other anatomical parts, but nothing will come of it."

Jacine started laughing helplessly. "That’s about the size of it!" Her gaze rested on the closed door. "Damn, I hate it when they do that."