Title : Shaken
Author: YS McCool
Rating: PG
Date  : 22 June 1998
Series: Upgrade # 18
Summary: An earthquake strikes the Cascade area.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel characters, nor do I
make a claim on them.  Established characters are the
property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN.  Original
characters are the sole property of the author.


                          Upgrade # 18
                             Shaken
                          By YS McCool

Ellison snapped awake with his heart racing and terror
sending acid flooding into his throat.  He couldn't see.  He
couldn't hear.  He couldn't think.  He screamed but had no
idea if he was making a sound.

Blair all but teleported into Jim's room.  Ellison felt the
hands of his teacher on his chest.  The sentinel
concentrated on the feel of those hands, and one by one his
senses were brought back online.

Gasping, Jim tried to figure out what had so terrified him. 
"Blair?"

"Right here, Jim.  I'm right here," Blair promised.

Ellison tried to untangle himself from his sheets.  "I... I-
-"

"I need you to breathe, Jim," Blair ordered, sounding quite
reasonable.  Jim could breathe, couldn't he?  "Take a deep
breath for me.  Your heart is racing, Buddy."

He could understand what Blair was saying, but he couldn't
get past the terror that was still gripping him.  Then it
happened.

Sebastian yowled, the lights blinked, and the house shook
violently.  Jim curled himself around Blair to protect him
from any falling debris.  The structure had been shored up
so that it was supposedly earthquake resistant, but the
house was over 500 years old.  Built long before earthquake
standards were enforced.

The shaking stopped.  Jim looked at his teacher who was
underneath him.  His eyes were wide and he was panting. 
"Are you okay, Blair?"

"Was it good for you?" Blair asked, teasing.

"I felt the earth move," Jim responded.

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Simon shot out of bed in a near panic.  Nothing was wrong,
was it?  But something had woken him up.  Helaine was sound
asleep and now frowning because of his absence.  The feeling
wasn't going away now that he was awake, it was building. 
Then the ground shook.  Instinctively, Simon covered his
wife.

"What the hell?" Helaine asked.

"Quake," Banks muttered.  The shaking stopped.  "Daryl?!?"

"I'm okay," his son answered as he came down the stairs from
the second floor.  "Wow, that was *not* a 4.1 quake, and it
was five days early."

Trust his son to be on top of the latest quake predictions. 
"Check on the power and water, Daryl," Simon ordered.  Daryl
was really good with equipment and had taken the
certification test, which meant he was qualified to do
maintenance on the house's systems and minor repairs.

"All right.  Are you both okay?" Daryl inquired.

"We're fine, honey," Helaine answered quickly.

Daryl wasn't satisfied until he made physical contact with
both of his parents.  His long-fingered hands hovered over
Helaine's tummy.  "Everyone's okay," he said quietly.  

After that pronouncement, the young man headed downstairs to
the basement and the utilities system of the mansion.

Simon kissed his wife, then activated the comm system. 
"Establish link to RO HQ."

"Link established," the communications system reported.

"Are we still standing?" he asked Lieutenant Havers. 

The younger woman looked a little harried.  Her thick brown
hair had escaped its normally tidy braid and was clinging to
her sweaty face.  "We're still standing, Sir.  Every RO here
felt something before it happened.  No one can explain where
this big quake came from, but that's for the academics to
hash out later.  Right now, I've got power outages all over
the region, streets showered with broken glass, a reported
crack in the old Cascade dam, several stranded trains, a
rash of private vehicle crashes--"  

She turned from the screen toward an officer.  "Lieutenant,
we have citizens seeking help in the lobby," a sergeant
Simon didn't recognize stated.  Banks would have searched
the RO database for the man's face, he did have some 3000
people under his command and he couldn't know them all, but
the traffic on the channels were being bogged down by
officers demanding help and updates.  That was why he'd used
his comm system to check in.

"Open the emergency shelters," Simon suggested.  "Get the
med techs down there and check for injuries."

"Good idea, Sir," Havers said.  "Will you be coming in?"

Simon looked back toward his wife.  "No, you have things
under control there.  I want to check the neighborhoods
first."  He watched his wife dress, her condition barely
noticeable to anyone unless they already knew she was
expecting.  "My priorities have changed.  I can't ride the
desk on this one."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Sandburg rose from the bed.  "Hawthorne, are you all right?"
he shouted.  Hawthorne's room was right next to Jim's.  The
older man slept and moved quietly, not because of Jim's
senses, but because that was the man's way.  Thirty years in
deep space gave you habits civilian life could not break.

"I am fine, Doctor Sandburg.  Just shocked," Cecil reported. 
He came into the room wearing pants and pulling on a shirt. 
His bowtie, normally a fixture, was nowhere in sight.

"Good.  Start the emergency procedures," Blair commanded.

"Comm system, track all news announcements about the
earthquake," Jim requested, as he grabbed some clothes out
of his closet.

"Computer, start program Heart-to-Heart," Blair ordered.

"Parameters?" the computer asked.

"Limit range to area of the earthquake," Blair said before
he headed out of Jim's bedroom.

"Chief, what's program Heart-to-Heart?" Jim called.

Sandburg paused in the hallway.  "It contacts all my friends
and family, so I can check on them."


The doctor rushed back to his room to dress.  He was worried
about his family, his friends, and his beloved house.  Blair
peeked under his bed, where Sebastian was hiding.  "Hey,
Sebastian, do you want to come out?"  The cat cowered and
wrapped his long, bushy tail around his paws.  "It's okay,
fellow.  It's probably safer under there."  Blair snagged
one of his cat's favorite toys and pushed it under the bed. 
"You can come out when you're ready, old friend."

A lot of people wondered why Blair, a man with a schedule
that would break most people, had a cat.  Sebastian wasn't
some whim purchase for Blair; Blair had rescued the tiny
kitten from a drainage grate during a particularly violent
storm.  The bedraggled cat was wrapped up in Blair's scarf
and carried back to the townhouse Blair was living in at the
time.  The pair became great friends right away.

"I'm glad you're alright, Sebastian.  We're going to get
through this," Blair promised as he got back to his feet.

"Program complete," the computer announced.

"Who failed to respond?" Blair asked, as he chose clothing
and shoes.

"Esther Weiss, Jet Preston, Matthew Rosenberg, and Franklin
Sandburg," the computer reported.

Blair called his Aunt Esther's neighbor, Benton Lewis, and
got no response.  Sandburg tried three other near neighbors,
with similar results.  Blair used his RO clearance to gain
access to the state's systems and tied into the satellite
surveillance system to get an update on his Aunt's
neighborhood.  Her house was badly damaged.  It looked like
it had been stepped on by a giant with no love for old
stone-accented homes.  No house in the entire neighborhood
had escaped the giant's wrath.

It took four tries, but Blair finally got a lung-full of
air.  "Jim!!!"

Ellison raced into the room.  "What?"

"Esther's house and most of her neighborhood is destroyed,"
Blair reported, feeling terror-stricken and helpless at the
same time.

"Oh my God," Jim gasped as he looked at the images.

Blair tapped in Jet's personal code, which went straight to
her wristband communicator, and thankfully she answered. 
This was one of Joyce Vecchio's gadgets, which allowed Blair
to securely speak with any RO via their communicator band in
their chip. "Jet, where are you?"

"Looking for a ride.  I have no power, and the trains are
shut down," she reported calmly.  Blair was so relieved that
his love was uninjured and she understood that his tone was
not bossy but concerned.

"We'll pick you up, Love," Blair announced.  "I need you. 
Aunt Esther is in trouble."

Jet's face sobered.  "I'll meet you on the roof."

Sandburg blew a kiss to his love and closed the
communication line.  "Don't just stand there, Jim.  Get my
med kit, plus a back up.  We have to find Esther," Blair
commanded.

"On it," Jim said as he left the room.

Blair tried Frank and Matthew's hangouts and their friends,
nearly jamming his sophisticated comm center in his panic to
find his family members.  "Breathe, Blair, breathe.  They
are grown men, both older than you, and fully capable of
taking care of themselves."  He broke into their personal
data banks.  "Yeah, right."

"Ready to go?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," Sandburg responded, angrily.

"What's the matter, now?" Jim asked.

"I can't find Frank or Matthew," Blair reported.

"Frank is probably curled around Merry, and Matthew was
taking Shelly to a play on Broadway," Jim explained.

Blair stared.  "How do you know that?"

Jim tapped his earlobe.  "I heard the gossip in the break
room."

Blair shook his head.  "I hadn't heard."  He called Merry's
beachside home.  

"Hello?"  It was obvious that the woman was up and dressed.

"Hi, Merry.  Is Frank there?" Blair asked.

"Blair, it's three in the morning," Merry replied testily.

"Merry, I need to know," Blair insisted.  "I'm not coming
over there with a shotgun to force you to marry him."

"Frank is here," she responded.  "He went to the basement to
check on all the systems, while I contacted my family."

Blair was so relieved.  Now he needed his cousin's help. 
"Tell him that Esther's neighborhood has been destroyed, and
I'm on my way there.  I need him."

Merry's eyes widened.  "Oh, Blair, I'm sorry.  I hope you
find her well."

"Thank you."  Sandburg signed off.  That was one errant
cousin found.  Now, if he knew Shelly, then she had her
datapad nearby.  While heading downstairs, he called her and
received a recorded message.  

"You've reached Shelly's datapad.  I'm at a play with a
gorgeous man.  If it's not the end of the world, please
leave a message.  If it is the end of the world, don't
bother."

"Shelly, this is Blair.  Are you in possession of one
Matthew Donald Rosenberg?" Blair asked.  "Please call me
back with a yes or no," he said impatiently.

Jim interrupted.  "Chief, Matt chased down Shelly like she
was the last woman on Earth.  I think you need to let her
know that this isn't just idle curiosity."

"Shelly, there's been a big earthquake here, and Esther's
house and neighborhood are damaged.  I need all of my
family.  There is no telling how little support we will have
for a long time while the authorities get their ducks in a
row."

The two men paused in the foyer, Hawthorne was waiting, and
his face was grave.  "How bad is it, Hawthorne?" Jim asked.

"The 1815 gazebo was flattened.  The greenhouse and 1920
gazebo have heavy damage, but are standing.  The
conservatory is detached from the main house and sustained
significant damage.  I've managed to collect the birds and
have placed them in their carriers for now.  I'll remove the
fish next because the temperature is dropping rapidly in the
space.  I'll have to round up help to remove the tropical
plants and the more fragile trees."  Hawthorne paused to
search Blair's face.  Sandburg gave the older man a subtle
nod, which indicated he could continue his report.  "The
west wall of the library has a long jagged crack in the
bricks."

"The books?" Blair asked in a pained voice.  Sandburg had
literally thousands of books; some so rare they didn't exist
in any current database, stored in his library.

"I'm afraid that there is quite a jumble in the room, Sir,"
Hawthorne responded.  For a man who had been shocked out of
his bed, Cecil sounded wonderfully in control.  "Every wall-
mounted shelf is on the floor, along with some of the
freestanding bookcases.  There is also some damage in the
wine cellar, pantry, and kitchen.  But the house is still
solid.  The library doesn't provide any supporting walls for
the rest of the house because of the updated trusses.  I've
erected the shields to compensate for the structural damage,
as we're scheduled for freezing rain in less than two
hours."

Blair nodded.  "I'm leaving you in charge, Hawthorne.  Aunt
Esther didn't respond, and her neighborhood shows
significant damage."

"I'll take care of everything, Sir," Hawthorne promised.


Jim called Simon.  "Hello, Simon, is everyone all right over
there?"

"Just fine, Jim.  We've already responded to Blair's
automatic call.  How about you?" Simon asked.

"We have damage, but all of us are fine," Jim reported. 
"We're heading over to Esther's, her neighborhood is
trashed, and she and her nearest neighbors are not
responding."

Simon looked shocked.  "Damn it, those houses are all less
than a hundred years old.  They're supposed to be safe," the
big man complained.  Simon visibly pulled himself together
and lowered his voice.  "Daryl and I will take my Assault
Vehicle and come with you.  With such widespread damage,
you'll need every hand you can get. This neighborhood is
doing fine.  Yours is the only truly old building in it."

Jim nodded.  He felt better knowing Simon would be with him. 
Banks was very good at keeping his head during emotional
situations.  "That's a good idea."

"How's my nephew taking the damage to his house?" Simon
asked.

"The conservatory is gone.  Hawthorne is racing to save what
he can, but the structure itself is lost," Jim reported. 
"But you know him, Simon.  Until he knows about Esther, to
hell with the house and everything in it.  Later he'll
mourn."  

Simon nodded.  "Meet you at Esther's place, Jim.  Give Blair
my love."

Jim jumped into the passenger side of Blair's APV.  Cecil
was throwing in extra supplies, and Sebastian, having
finally come out from under the bed, was sitting on the
windowsill of Blair's study and looking out at them.  It
appeared like the cat didn't want them to leave him.  Jim
noted that Blair hadn't seen his pet, so he didn't point
Sebastian out.  Sandburg had enough to worry about.  They
cleared the garage, buzzed past Blair's antique Volvo, which
was toppled onto its side, and joined Simon in orbit. 

They flew into the night.

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Jet looked out of the car at the formerly beautiful old
neighborhood where Blair's Great Aunt Esther made her home. 
She had spent many good times in the house where Esther had
made her feel like family from the start.  The thought of
the grand older lady being hurt, or God forbid, killed was
turning her supposedly rock solid stomach.

"I have a clear spot to land," Blair announced as he brought
the vehicle in.  "Let's go, people."

Jet was still slightly jumpy from being shocked out of a
sound sleep, but if she hadn't been awake and on her feet
when the quake had hit, then the heavy armoire that Jim had
restored for her birthday would have fallen right on her
when it crushed her bed.  It made you think.  She watched
Blair pick his way through the rubble of Esther's home.  It
made you think a lot.


Blair crawled to the top of the rubble pile and slid
backwards.  Or would have, if Daryl hadn't caught him and
helped him over.  "Thanks."

"No problem, Cuz," Daryl said quietly.  His handsome face
was grave.

"What is it?" Blair asked.

Daryl's pupils reacted in the classic shrinking phase, which
denoted intense mental activity.  "There are people trapped
all around here.  I can feel their panic and fear."

"Simon, we've got people trapped all around here," Blair
called.  "How close is emergency support?"

"They're stretched thin, Blair." Banks answered.  "We're on
our own for now."  

Blair scrambled over the half wall and hopped down.  Daryl
bounced down like his legs were made partly of springs. 
Jim, Jet, and Simon followed.  

Daryl stood perfectly still.  'How can he single her out
with so many people in pain around him?' Blair asked himself
while holding his breath.  

Daryl's eyes went back to the correct pupil size.  He'd done
it.  Blair was convinced even without Daryl saying a word. 
"I have her.  Esther's alive, but in terrible pain."  He
pointed.  Jim, Jet, and Simon moved into the crumbled
building.

It was torture waiting outside, but Blair knew that in this
situation, he would be more of an interference, than a help.


Simon zeroed in on the weakening heartbeat.  "Okay, by the
numbers and no heroics out of you."  Jim gave him his most
innocent look.  "I meant Jet."

The young woman didn't respond to Simon's pronouncement. 
What could she say?  This was Blair's favorite aunt, the
sister of his grandfather, and nearly sacred in the young
man's heart.  What was sacred to Blair was doubly so to Jet. 
Not that Simon didn't have his own soft spot for the older
woman.

Carefully, the three officers braced the sagging walls so
they wouldn't be crushed when coming back out.  They found
Esther in the remains of her canopied bed.  

"Simon?" the older woman gasped.  There was blood soaking
into Esther's classic Egyptian cotton sheets.  The pale blue
color of the sheets made her red blood seem unnaturally
vivid.

"Yes, Sweetheart," Simon whispered.  "I know I promised to
always call before dropping by, but I couldn't get a hold of
you."

"You know I would never receive company without my cosmetics
on," Esther asserted in a raspy voice, "but for you, I'll
make an exception."

"Thank you, Dear."  Simon placed his hands on either side of
Esther's neck while Jim applied the neck brace. "Sweetheart,
I'm not going to lie to you.  It's bad, and it's really
going to hurt when we move you, but we have no choice." 
Simon could hear the building groaning around them and
detected the slight sway, which said that the next
aftershock would finish this building and them if they
didn't get going.

"I would appreciate a comforting lie right about now," she
whispered.  Tears provided the only paths of clean skin on
the woman's left cheek.

Simon looked at the roof beam lying across Mrs. Weiss.  He
could lift it.  No matter how heavy it was, Simon was damn
well going to lift it.  He was not ready to let Esther pass
from his life.  Not at all.  "I'm going to lift this up, and
I need the two of you to move her."  His officers moved into
position.  "On three.  One, two, three."  Simon moved the
beam.  The two officers lifted the injured woman out of the
bed.  Carefully, Banks lowered the beam back so that the
debris on top of it didn't suddenly shower down on them.

They made it outside of the building without further
incident.  Esther's staff, a married couple, had the night
off and were out of town, leaving the house empty except for
Esther.  Esther had no pets.

Blair knelt down beside the stricken woman.  "Aunt Esther,
I'm going to look out for you."

"Sweetness, I can't feel a thing in my legs," Esther
reported.  Esther was biting down on her lip, forcing all of
the blood out of it, leaving her lip a white slash over her
chin.  It was chilling to know she was in that much pain.

Daryl placed his hands on Esther's shoulders, and Simon
could swear that they were glowing.  "I'm here for you, Aunt
Esther."  The way that Jim and Jet gasped, they saw it too.

Blair was working on his great aunt; oblivious to what Daryl
was doing until his readings were affected.  "How are you
doing that?" Sandburg asked, obviously amazed.  Simon was so
amazed he couldn't speak.

Daryl didn't answer Blair; his concentration was turned
inward.  Simon had listened carefully when his son had
explained what his instructors had been teaching him to do. 
In this case, he was providing medical support for Esther,
literally using his mind to heal her broken body.  Daryl was
a telekinetic, capable of lifting Simon's Assault Vehicle,
which weighed over 5 tons, with the power of his mind.  The
healing he was doing tapped into that telekinetic ability
and combined it with his empathy and seeking ability to make
repairs inside Esther's body.

Simon had seen Daryl demonstrate this ability by slicing an
orange into perfect open-flesh segments without breaking the
peel and using only his psi-talents.  Simon had peeled the
orange and found the segments already waiting for him
inside. It was very impressive.

Esther gazed up at her newly acquired great-nephew.  "Don't
hurt yourself, child.  If it's my time to go, then I'll go. 
If you could just stop the pain then--"

"Sssshhhhh," Daryl insisted.  A nimbus of warmth emanated
out from Daryl and totally encapsulated Esther.

Suddenly Blair looked very excited.  He placed a fluid bag
on the gurney and attached the apparatus.  "I don't know how
you did that, Daryl, but it stabilized her."  He ruffled the
younger man's hair.  "Stay with Esther and keep her talking,
while I find a hospital that can take her."

"Blair, we've got other wounded," Jim said apologetically. 
"A whole lot of them.  We need your help."

Sandburg nodded.  "I know."

"That was something," Esther said, softly.  "It's good to
see that the youngest Rosenberg is still carrying on the
proud family traditions."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed.  "Blair really is something."

Esther frowned.  "I was talking about you, Daryl.  Until
your little brother or sister arrive, you are the youngest
Rosenberg."

Daryl kissed the older woman's left cheek, practically the
only part of her body that wasn't bruised.  "Thank you."

Simon turned away from this scene and began mentally mapping
out the neighborhood, trying to pinpoint the location of the
injured and correlate that to the people he had met on his
many trips to visit Esther.

Out of the sky, poured APV after APV.  Franklin Sandburg,
looking more like a relative of Jim's than Blair's with his
straight brown hair, blue eyes, and cleft chin, ran toward
them.  He was a well built man, and almost as tall as Simon. 
Though he was not a blood relative of Esther, that didn't
stop him from loving the woman.

Simon was pleased to see that Frank had brought his medical
kit with him.  The doctor had stepped back from seeing
patients to enter into private research for the Sandburg
Foundation.  

Banks rushed forward.  "We found her.  She's in pretty bad
shape but alive.  Blair is trying to find a hospital to move
her to for medical support."

"Good luck there," Frank said.  "The hospitals are doing
triage in the parking lots.  The quake has overwhelmed the
city with casualties."

"What about the Community Center?" Merry asked.  "It was
intact when we flew over."

Simon hadn't known that Merry was with Frank.  "That's an
excellent suggestion."  He had a civil defense override to
use that would let him into the building with access to its
equipment and emergency supplies.

"What's that?" Jet asked, as she pointed skyward.  

Simon looked up.  Coming out of the sky was a strange
looking piece of heavy equipment.  Clearing a flight path
for the monstrous machine was Maxine on her flycycle.  "I
don't know, but Tate is escorting it."  While they watched,
the machine landed and immediately began clearing a path
along the street.  Debris was sucked up and pulverized down
with minimum noise, leaving a perfectly clean street behind
it and no waste.

Maxine landed and ran to their group.  "Esther?" she asked
in a panicked tone.

"Easy," Simon said.  "She's stabilized.  What is that?" he
pointed to the machine.

"It's from Robert's ship construction site.  We flew over
there first, so we could pick it up."  

Every RO grabbed their ears, and the ground shook again.  

Undaunted by the aftershock, Robert continued to clear a
path down the street.  He paused in front of the group. 
"How's Aunt Esther?"

"She's hurt," Simon replied.  "We need to move her down to
the Community Center, because the hospitals are full."

Rosenberg nodded.  "The Governor's just declared a state of
emergency," he announced.  "What's the plan?" he asked
Simon.

"I need you to clear a path all the way to the Center, then
move one street north, and make another path back here until
you get to the west gate."  Robert nodded.  "Continue the
pattern until you have eight cleared streets.  Having the
Center won't do us any good if we can't get our injured to
it."

"Okay.  Some of my people will be heading this way with
other equipment," Robert reported.

Simon looked around.  "We'll need them."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


"She's right here, Chief," Jim said, as he pulled his
smaller friend up to the second floor.  The stairs were
blocked and Jim had only made it to the second floor by
literally climbing the outside wall of the house.  "We hear
you," he called.

"Save my baby," she whispered.

"Baby?"  Jim looked at the distressing amount of blood
pooled around the woman's back.  He couldn't imagine how she
had survived this long.

"Can you move this?" Blair asked, as he indicated the heavy
wall decoration that was flattening the woman's chest.

Ellison moved the wall art off the patient and gasped.  He
had been a Deep Space Ranger, and had been witness to
countless injuries, but here, he felt like vomiting.  How
could she still be alive?  "Oh my God," he whispered.

"Jim, I need you.  The baby is about seven and one-half
months along.  She can survive."  He erected a sterilization
field. "I need to perform a caesarian."

"Will the mother survive that?" Jim asked, knowing the
answer was 'no'.

"No, Jim, she's already dead," Doctor Sandburg replied.  Jim
could easily tell when Blair switched strictly to his doctor
persona; it helped them both cope with the carnage.

Ellison opened a sterile blanket pack.  It would keep the
newborn warm.  His mind was racing.  He had heard this
woman, clearly.  Now he realized she couldn't have had the
strength to call so loudly.  How had she summoned them?  How
long had she been dead?  "Did you hear her calling, too?"

"Yes," Blair removed the infant.  Quickly, he checked the
little girl over and cleared her mouth, nose, and lungs.  He
tickled.  The baby drew in her first breath and laughed. 
"She's perfect."  

Jim wrapped the baby in the blanket.  "Here you go."  He
pressed the infant to his chest.  "I'm sorry we couldn't
save your Mom."  The sentinel felt a kiss on his cheek.  He
looked toward his friend, but Blair was making his way down
to the lower level via the rope Jim had strung.

"Thank you," a feminine voice whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied.  Ellison placed the infant in
a sling and lowered her to Blair.  "Did you hear that?"

Blair nodded.

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Daryl accepted a sandwich and ice-cold juice from his
mother.  He wanted something hot to drink to ward off the
cold, but the last of the coffee, tea, and fake hot
chocolate had been consumed and there wouldn't likely be any
more for the rest of the day.  "Thanks, Mom."  He sipped the
juice.  "Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?"

"I'm all right, Sweetheart.  I need to help," Helaine
explained.  Helaine was a very talented clothing designer
and clever businesswoman, but she was not a trained rescue
worker.  What she could do was organize almost any chaotic
group into a team.  She'd proved that by arriving on the
scene with food, water, blankets, temporary shelters, and
medical supplies and equipment.  Helaine became the scene's
second-in-command to Simon.  Both had tried to hand those
duties over the professionals when they finally arrived, but
had been politely rebuffed.  Maybe things wouldn't fall
apart the moment she went home, but Helaine wasn't ready to
risk that.

The young man nodded in understanding.  He had been here
almost five hours.  He could have gone home, and no one
would have said anything about it, but he couldn't do it. 
Not when so many people needed his help.  Daryl ate his
sandwich.

Blair walked toward them like a zombie; in his arms was a
howling newborn baby.  Helaine dashed forward and removed
the infant from the doctor and placed it in a support
chamber.  There was nothing like an earthquake to send a
woman into labor.  Four babies had been born in this area
alone since the quake.

Sandburg would have collapsed to the ground if Daryl had not
caught him.  "Easy, Blair."

Behind Blair, Jim solemnly zipped a battered young woman
into a body bag.  The big man stared down at the black
plastic with tears streaming down his face.  Daryl had never
seen Jim cry before and it momentarily shocked him.

"Blair?" Daryl politely probed.  He would rather ask Blair
than risk the floodgates Jim was so carefully holding
closed.

"We lost the mother.  There was nothing we could do.  She
mind called us with the last of her strength."  The doctor
began to cry.  

Daryl gently rocked the older man.  "You've never lost a
patient before, have you?"

"No.  Never," Blair responded, his voice choked with sorrow. 
"Even those stupid pirates survived, when God knows they
didn't deserve to.  But she deserved to survive.  How could
I save those repulsive people and not her?"

Young Banks looked around.  The sun was up, or would be if
the clouds hadn't been so thick.  They were many kilometers
away from their starting point of Aunt Esther's house.  It
was very cold and raining.  He wanted to take Blair home,
put him to bed, and look after him, but that wasn't going to
happen.

Emergency services had sent only three people to their area. 
That's all they could spare.  The destruction was widespread
over the region.  Most of the rest of the people on site
were citizen volunteers; people like himself with no real
emergency training, just a desire to help.  No matter how
bad the doctor felt, he wouldn't leave.  Blair's training
and leadership were needed.

"Blair, when a telepath sends out a mind call as they hover
near death, it represents their most heartfelt wish," Daryl
explained.  "A dying mind call can never be false, self-
serving, but never false.  If she called you to her side to
save her child, then you granted her dying wish.  Her
daughter meant everything to her.  I can feel that.  You can
feel it too, if you will step away from the pain of not
being perfect."

Sandburg sniffled.  "Daryl, I never thought I was perfect."  

"I do.  Lots of people do.  We think you're invincible. 
Have laser scalpel, will travel."  Blair snorted at Daryl's
words.  "But if I were to program that woman's injuries into
a medical dummy, what reading would I get?" Daryl asked,
already knowing the answer.

Sandburg paused.  He lifted his datapad and studied those
first readings he had taken of Becky Sims when they had
reached her side.

Daryl didn't have to try to read his cousin's mind, Blair's
thoughts were on the surface and as raw as his emotions.  

"Deceased, no revival possible," he intoned.  "Infant still
viable," Blair diagnosed.

"Blair, even a know-it-all college student would have to
declare that a hopeless situation."  He hugged his cousin. 
"You saved the baby.  Your patient survived."

Matthew Rosenberg had arrived straight from New York about
an hour after responding to Blair's message.  He had still
been wearing his tuxedo and top hat.  His date, Shelly, had
still been wearing a formal gown.  Once he was assured that
Esther would survive, he and Shelly had organized
communications so that family members could find out who was
injured or dead, and where they had been sent.

Doctor Rosenberg was a languages specialist, currently
engaged in converting the original contracts from The Rock
Hard, which Merry and Shelly had retrieved from its ancient
databases, into Common.  This specialty, combined with his
sharp wit and quiet authority, made him the perfect
candidate to talk to hysterical people from all over the
Human Sphere.

The tall and athletic Matthew tugged at the too short
sleeves of his borrowed sweatshirt as he knelt down beside
his cousin.  His dark blue eyes were concerned.  "Pip?  Are
you okay?"

"Yeah, I... I lost a patient," Blair explained sadly.

"I'm sorry, Pip.  I know you did your best."  He hugged his
smaller cousin.  "Should I get one of the volunteers to take
you home?"

Blair sighed.  Daryl could tell that the doctor did want to
go home.  Perhaps assess the damage to his own home in the
light of day.  "No, I just need to take a moment or two."

"Okay."  Matt kissed the top of his younger cousin's head. 
"We're all here for you, Blair."

Daryl pushed food into Blair's hands and made him eat.  

Jim accepted his food without the need to be prompted to
eat.  "Thanks, Daryl."  He chewed on his sandwich while
looking into the sky.  "Temperature's dropping, and I can
feel snow coming."  He sipped his juice.  "Almost a meter of
snow will fall before sunset."

"You're better than the weather service," Daryl commented. 
The last thing they needed was snow.  They were still almost
eight kilometers shy of meeting up with the other rescue
groups.  Eight kilometers full of damaged buildings and
injured people. 

Mario Rosenberg walked up to their group and handed out
heavier coats, new gloves, and herbal-scented warm packs. 
"Here you go.  It's not a hot bath and a warm bed, but it
will help," the long-haired man promised.

Blair pressed his hands around the warm pack with gratitude. 
"Thanks, Mario."

"You're welcome," Rosenberg said.  He gave his cousin and
Jim strong hugs before moving on.

"Thanks."  Daryl accepted the new coat.  The one he had
started with now had holes in it and was so filthy that you
couldn't tell what color it used to be.  He should have
taken better care of the coat, as Jim had given him the
garment for his graduation.

The coat he put on was identical to the one that was ruined. 
Doctor Rosenberg winked at him.  "The spirit of the gift
remains."

Daryl stared after Mario.  The man was a little hard to pin
down in the family of overachievers.  Mario had more degrees
than anyone in the family and didn't hold a regular job.  He
was an acknowledged genius in fields as diverse as robotics
and solid state to artificial intelligence and horticulture. 
Currently Mario was at Rainier, not teaching, but instead
taking courses in writing.  Next to Marcus, Mario was the
closest thing in the family to Blair's twin.  Except for his
superior height, weight, and waist-length hair, he and Blair
were very similar in appearance.

Daryl smiled as he stroked the sleeve of his coat.  It never
did you any good to try to figure out people.  Especially
not in his new family.

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Henry reached down through the narrow hole and touched the
young woman's shoulder.  She was non-responsive.  "Miss, I'm
a Retrieval Officer, and I'm here to rescue you."  He
wrestled away a structural beam.  "Come on, I know you're
hurt, but it's not that bad.  I need you to reach up, so we
can leave before this building falls on us."

"Go away," she mumbled.

"That's against the RO code."  He checked his chronometer. 
"Look, I know you've been trapped in here for over six
hours, but I'm the rescue you were hoping for."

"Save it for the sane," she whispered.

"What?"

"I can hear people debating all the Tri-ball standings, and
I'm all alone."  Her voice was pained and held a large edge
of panic.  "The Otters are undefeated, and no earthquake is
going to stop them."

Henry listened.  The people having the conversation were
taking a break near the food center, which was about three
blocks away.  "The Commissioner has delayed tonight's game
until Saturday," he finished.

The woman looked up, and Henry could see her wide-set, dark
brown eyes.  "I'm not imagining that?"

"No.  You've just got exceptional hearing."  He paused. 
"Would you reach up now?"

"Did you have a turkey club sandwich?" the woman inquired,
still not reaching up.  "I swear I can smell one."

"That was two hours ago.  Anything else you can do?" Henry
asked, still worried about dying in this stupid apartment
building.

"My clothes feel funny.  It's like I can sense every stitch
in them," the woman reported.

"Amazing."  He removed the last of the blockage.  "Now if
you'll just reach up, I'll tell you all about sentinels."  

The young woman reached up, and Henry was able to lift her
out.  "Sentinels?"

"Yeah.  Ancient tribal guardians.  Retrieval Officers were
originally designed to be artificial sentinels."  Henry
secured the woman's broken arm and twisted wrists.  The
bruises and cuts weren't life threatening and that's all he
needed to consider as he secured her for the ride down to
the ground.  Henry sprayed her legs, arms, and face with the
antiseptic mist that would fight any infections that had
already taken hold or were working their way up to that
point.

"Artificial?  Would that mean that they still exist?" she
asked, obviously engaged in the subject.

Henry carried the young woman to the edge of the wall where
the rescue swing was waiting.  "Yes, they still exist.  I
even know one."  They rode the swing down to the ground.

"Can you tell me more?" she asked as she was lowered onto
the medical bed.

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim had never been so tired in his life.  He had been
working since three in the morning, some nine hours.  Now
the sites were clear of victims, and it was time for
buildings to be either shored up or destroyed.  He hoped
that his home had fared well.

Rafe was flying them home in his Assault Vehicle.  Blair's
car would have to be picked up the following day, as neither
he nor Blair had the concentration to fly the large sedan. 
They landed in Simon's driveway.

"You missed, Rafe.  We're across the street," Jim called.

"I know, but Hawthorne said that you were staying with
Helaine and Simon while he tended to the house," Rafe
explained.

Ellison didn't like the sound of that.  He climbed out of
the car.  Across the street every neighbor they had seemed
to be swarming the house.  Blair's books were being packed
into storage boxes.  Each tome was wrapped in a protective
covering, then placed in a padded slot.  

Plants had been rescued from the greenhouse and
conservatory.  Furniture was being covered and removed from
the library and conservatory.  Some of the conservatory
furniture was obviously beyond saving.  Jim could see the
shards of glass imbedded in the fabric.

Blair crossed the street to speak to his butler.  "Cecil,
what's going on?"

The butler, uncharacteristically dressed in a sweat suit,
turned to greet his employer.  "Doctor Sandburg, I'm afraid
that I've had to improvise."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked.

"There is not a square meter of storage space to be found in
the region.  The state has confiscated it all for emergency
supplies and storage for earthquake victims," Hawthorne
explained.

"We're earthquake victims," Sandburg protested.

Hawthorne sighed.  "But the house is still liveable,
therefore we've fallen through the cracks.  So I've asked
the neighbors if we could store some of our things at their
homes while repairs were being made.  They've been very
generous with their space and their time."

Jim looked around.  He hadn't realized how many people he
knew in the neighborhood.  Every household in the area was
represented.  Blair's grad student assistant, Brandy, was
making an inventory of who had what and where it was being
stored.  "We have good neighbors," he remarked.

Blair yawned.  That was Jim's signal to get his friend to a
bed.  The doctor would soon crash.

He steered the smaller man back across the street before he
felt compelled to personally thank each and every one of
their neighbors for their kindness.  There was a pathetic
attempt at protests by Sandburg, but Jim was larger,
stronger, and determined.  It was times like this that he
could stand on his position as Blair's Shield to make sure
the younger man took care of himself.

Moore, the Banks's butler, let them in.  She took them to a
second floor suite that they would share.  Sebastian was
already in the room, sacked out in his bed, and surrounded
by his favorite toys. 

Esther had already been moved from the Community Center to a
second-level bedroom.  By using the house's elevator, Esther
would have easy access to every level, and therefore every
activity, of the house.  Until her house was rebuilt, or
more likely, a new one took its place, she would be living
with Simon and Helaine.  Claudia had arranged for a recently
retired nurse, named Zeke, to tend the older woman.

Zeke examined the mildly protesting Blair before he went to
bed.  Both Sandburg and Jim had bruises, muscle strains, and
were, quite simply, exhausted.

Jim emerged from the shower, put on pajamas, obviously
Simon's as they bunched around his ankles and had too much
room in the shoulders and chest, and climbed into the large
bed with Blair.  His friend was curled up and clutching his
pillow with white-knuckled fingers.

Ellison rubbed his teacher's back until the smaller man
relaxed in his sleep.  Without warning, Blair turned over
and cuddled him.

"You're safe, Chief," Jim whispered.  'I won't let anything
harm you,' he added mentally.

Even in his sleep, Blair seemed to know Jim was watching out
for him.  He slept.


                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim laid down the next row of bricks, which formed the new
west wall of the library, with Robert's help.  The original
library, which had been added to the house just over 400
years before, could not be saved.  Neither could the English
conservatory, which had been added fifty years after the
library.  

Though most of the plants and all of the animals that had
occupied the space had survived, the ultimate treasure of
the conservatory, the clean air, was lost forever.  Blair
would be starting from scratch.  Ten long years of work had
been erased in a few seconds of nature's wrath.  It made Jim
want to cry.

Blair could have easily contracted off-world experts and had
the house repaired and brought up to new earthquake
standards in no time, but that hadn't happened.  Instead the
family, Jim's, Blair's, and Maxine's, had come together to
rebuild the beautiful Victorian mansion.  With all of them
pitching in, the authentic materials had been found,
overqualified experts secured, and free labor guaranteed.

Ellison could hear his brother, Steven, explaining the
merits of the "glass" that now made up the conservatory
walls and ceiling to Blair.

"It looks the same as the old panels," Blair remarked.

Jim winced at the mention of those big panels that had
smashed during the quake and its many aftershocks.  The
glass had rendered most of the furniture in the conservatory
unusable.

"That's the beauty of it, Blair.  I could smash this with a
powered hammer, and it wouldn't break.  When it does break,
it becomes these pebbles."  The businessman held up a
handful of clear pebbles.  "The sun filters are built in as
well as noise reduction.  You cannot buy a better substitute
for what you've lost."

"How did you find it?" Blair asked.

"I was given a prospectus of a small upstart company on
Raleigh," Steven began in response.  "I was so impressed
that I went into partnership with them.  You'll be the first
customer we have on Earth."

"Thanks, Steve."  The two men hugged.

Ellison topped off another row in the Flemish bond pattern
of the wall.  They had a deadline to beat, and it was fast
approaching.  Maxine and Robert had offered to postpone
their wedding in light of the disaster, but no one would
hear of it.  A day of delay was another day Helaine and
Jessica, Maxine's mother, were being kept from their
rightful title of Grandmother.

So they had just three weeks to finish the house in time for
the parties and guests.  Despite Maxine's best efforts to
curb her mother and Robert's "invite everyone we have ever
known" attitude, the guest list was long.

Blair walked over.  "Hey, Jim, Robert, you're really doing a
great job here."  He paused to admire the wall.  "I think
we're going to finish in plenty of time."  He tapped Jim's
head.  "Knock on wood."  He dashed away with Jim close on
his heels.

Ellison grabbed up his teacher and swung him around.  This
was the Blair he had missed these last few days.  His friend
had gone silent as he signed the "unsafe" paperwork to have
the remains of the two rooms pulled down.  Jim would often
find Blair looking out at the space his conservatory had
occupied with unshed tears sparkling in his eyes.  Seeing
the space now, with drifts close to two meters high in
places, standing where his tiny tropical jungle had been was
like a physical blow to Blair.

Blair was not a man for things over people, but his house,
his first major purchase and the recipient of his boundless
energy to make it a "perfect home for a gentleman," was his
first great love.  Having part of it destroyed had hurt him
deeply.  Losing the air was almost more than he could take.

Jim carried Blair over to Jet.  Pausing occasionally to gnaw
the smaller man's neck.  Jet looked up from where she was
matching heart pine boards from Paradisia for the floor of
the library.  

"How much are you willing to offer for the safe return of
this smart aleck?" Ellison inquired, before gnawing at his
friend's neck again. 

Blair shrieked and laughed.  "Save me, Jet.  He hasn't eaten
for almost three hours."

"I can't have you eaten," she said, as she rose to her feet. 
Jet rummaged through her pockets and retrieved a crumpled
one credit note.  She passed it to Jim and accepted custody
of Blair.  "At least not by Jim."  

Jet licked Blair's neck then kissed his lips.  The couple
were deep in a lip lock when Simon walked by.

"Less kissing, more work," he demanded.  "We have nuptials
to prepare for, and I don't want to live with Helaine-My-
Son's-Wedding-Was-Ruined."

"Oh, Simon," Helaine called.

Simon looked back at his wife, who was adorably dressed in
work pants and one of his sweatshirts.  "On second thought,
a proper balance between work and kissing should be
maintained."  The captain walked over to his wife and swept
her into his arms for a long series of kisses.


                         -- The End --