Title : Territory
Author: YS McCool
Rating: PG-13 for language
Date : 4 July 1998
Series: Upgrade #19

Warnings: None

Summary: A new sentinel comes to take Blair away from Jim and Jet.

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 # 19
Territory
By YS McCool

The older man leaned away from the younger one. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair as he reread the screen in front of him. "Is this the best you can do?" Russell demanded.

The younger man shrugged. He was a tall, lean man with coal black, wavy hair. "I'm afraid so, Sir. I have some possibilities, but they are on frontier worlds that are weeks away on the fastest available ship," Powers reported.

"I can't believe that in this day and age I can't find a teacher for my daughter," Russell DeSpain spat.

"Sir, sentinels are extremely rare in the core worlds. Even on frontier planets their numbers are limited, but my research has revealed that as rare as sentinels are, rarer still are the people to be their teachers and guides." Powers turned his datapad so that his employer could read the statistics contained in a report by Doctor Blair Sandburg.

The older man pointed to the screen, his face red with anger. "Then what about this man? This Sandburg. Anyone turning out this kind of volume of work has *got* to be a guide."

"Doctor Sandburg already has a sentinel. One teacher, one sentinel," the younger man said apologetically.

"This is ridiculous, this isn't marriage," Russell protested. "I have money so I am entitled to the best and my daughter, by extension, is also entitled to the best. Find out what this Sandburg wants to drop his current sentinel and trade up in the world."

"But a sentinel and guide bond is like marriage, Sir," Powers countered.

"What?" Russell hissed. No one contradicted Russell DeSpain. Not if they valued their career.

"To function at their peak, sentinel and teacher become *bonded*. This bond is superior to marriage." Powers took a deep breath before continuing. DeSpain was a difficult client, but one whose business was well worth keeping. The man had to be handled carefully. "On frontier worlds, a sentinel is discovered in childhood. They are paired with a guide as soon as possible. Most of the time, these guides are siblings."

"Frontier families do breed like rabbits," Russell grumped. "It must be rare for anyone out there to be an only child."

Powers, who had been born "out there", decided not to make a comment on that statement. "When a sentinel is discovered as an adult, they are always from a *civilized* world where their skills do not pass a level to gain official notice. It then takes an extraordinary situation or event to bring those senses forward."

"Like the earthquake, when Diane was buried alive," the older man muttered. "My poor kid. The one time she really needed the old man, and I was off-world." DeSpain rubbed his face and squeezed his eyes shut. "Six hours in a tiny cube." He shook himself and the hard businessman persona slipped back into place. "It must have awoken her senses so she could perceive something, anything outside that small space."

The man had insight, you had to give him that. "Exactly," Powers agreed.

The older man paused, his face going from serious to grave. "What can break the bond between sentinel and teacher so that the teacher can bond with a new sentinel?" he asked.

"I wish had more time to look into some of the really old research. Unfortunately, so many of our early records were lost during the Food Riots and the Lawyer Wars," Powers responded, "but from my research, I would say death."

The older man face showed his rejection of the notion. "Anything else?"

"Yes, but I don't know how you could arrange it."

DeSpain sighed and showed his irritation with the researcher. "Just tell me what you know, and I'll take care of the details."

Powers lowered his eyes and composed himself before speaking. "A guide was separated from his sentinel and received a head injury. He forgot about his charge. During this time, he found a second sentinel and bonded with him. When he was reunited with his first sentinel, he didn't recognize her, and the bond was broken between them."

DeSpain sat up straight. "What happened?"

"The guide stayed with the second sentinel, and the first sentinel committed suicide," Powers answered. "It was very sad."

Russell frowned, then his face cleared. "That would be his decision, not something we did. I could live with that."

"Live with what, Sir?" Powers asked, when he really didn't want to know the answer.

DeSpain smiled for the first time, though the word smile was being applied to a tight-lipped expression that barely skirted past the label 'grimace'. "You don't want to know." He tented his fingers and gazed through them. "My daughter expects me to find her help, and I will." He leaned back in his chair. "Leave me, Powers. I'll call you when events are in motion."

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

Blair tossed a blanket over Jason Rafe, exchanged Sebastian, who Jason had cuddled to himself, for a pillow, and left the man sleeping on the couch. Rafe was too heavy for Blair to try and get to a bed.

"He has no more shrimp to feed you," Blair informed his cat. Sebastian sat and watched Jason for a moment, then trotted off for his own bed when no more shrimp appeared.

"Ready to lock down the house?" Jim asked after holding the door for Sebastian.

"Yeah." Sandburg looked around at the huge mess that the reception had left in his house. "Let's leave it all for the morning."

"It is the morning, Chief," Jim corrected.

"Okay, later in the morning." The two friends made their way upstairs.

Jim was sliding under the covers when Blair came in. "What's the matter, Chief?"

"I kept telling myself I needed to put some beds on the third floor, but did I do it? Oh no. I've been going to party after party, shopping until the merchants are lighting candles in my honor, and--" Blair waved his arms in a gesture that meant absolutely nothing. "Now the Browns are sleeping in my bed." His face melted into the biggest grin. "Vicki looks so sweet. She's holding onto Humphrey so hard that it looks like my old teddy bear is about to go back into service."

Jim held up the covers for his friend. "I thought you were saving him for your children now that Maxine has Candace."

Blair undressed and climbed into the bed. "Nah, he's a Sandburg, he goes where he is needed."

Ellison hugged his teacher. "Just like you."

Blair chuckled. "But am I as cuddly?" he asked, trying to look serious... and failing as far as Jim could see.

"Let's see." Jim cuddled his teacher. "Oh, yeah. You are incredibly cuddly."

"Good. I have a reputation to uphold." The younger man sighed.

"What's wrong, Chief?"

"My little Maxine, married." He sighed again.

"Chief, she's happy. Robert's happy. What's wrong?" Jim asked, going up on his elbow to regard his friend.

Blair looked slightly embarrassed. "You'll laugh."

"Probably," Jim agreed, "but don't let that stop you from telling me."

Blair sighed again. "Now that she's married, Maxine won't have much time for me. No more biking. I'll have to find someone else to help me with my hand-to-hand."

"I could do that for you, Blair," Jim interrupted.

"No offense, Jim, but Maxine is a much better instructor. You yell too much. I'm too eager to please you. It's a frustrating situation." He petted Jim's arm. "Robert's moved to his Earth office permanently. They have a house to redecorate. Leaving no time for Blair." He sighed. "I'm so selfish."

"But it's a good kind of selfish. You don't want something from her, you want to be with her." He touched Blair's hair and ruffled it. "I know that kind of selfishness... very well."

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

Blair sipped his coffee and tried not to laugh at the message Maxine had sent from her honeymoon, which consisted mostly of sound effects. He saved that one to blackmail her with later. He needed to catch up on his reading, not send out clever retorts to a naughty little sister.

His in-box was overflowing because the wedding had his full attention for almost a week. The 135th message on the screen caused him to set down his cup.

Dear Doctor Sandburg,

I read three articles of yours concerning late

onset enhanced senses, and I have a patient I

would like to consult you about. After the

earthquake, my patient was trapped in her

shelter cube for over six hours. She has

always had exceptional sight and hearing, but

now her sensitivity levels are more than

fifteen times higher than previously recorded.

Plus, she has added elevated tactile and

olfactory responses.

Attached are my credentials and a copy of

the patient's tests. If you will consult

with me, I will release the patient's name

and address to you.

Thank you for your time.

Doctor Dora Covington

Blair called Doctor Covington right away. Her message was two-days-old, but the mention of the wedding, which had made *all* of the society papers, was more than enough of an explanation.

The patient was Diane Kimberly DeSpain. She was twenty, a student at Rainier, and frightened. Sandburg made an appointment to meet with her that very evening.

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

Diane DeSpain was living on her parents' estate, just outside San Francisco, because her apartment had not survived the earthquake. She was an engineering major at the university, a little shorter than Blair, with thick, curly brown hair, and deep-set brown eyes.

"Hello, Miss DeSpain," Blair said softly in deference to the young woman's hearing. "I'm Doctor Sandburg, and I would like to give you a few tests."

Diane looked at Blair as if he had descended from Heaven itself. "Okay," she agreed.

Blair was in testing nirvana. It was nice not to have to fight his test subject every step of the way. He loved Jim, but the man was stubborn, willful... Sometimes it was like dealing with a four-year-old, who was capable of breaking you in two. Diane was totally different. Being several years older than her gave him a distinct advantage.

The young woman had true Sentinel-level senses, and right now, she was having trouble with all of them. She would need a teacher. During his own search to find someone to help Jim, he had lamented on the shortage of those with the ability to guide.

"Do you have a sentinel?" she asked after completing her sight focusing exercise. Blair made quick notes for the therapist he would help the young woman find.

Blair paused and looked up when the question penetrated into his active mind. 'Have?' That almost made him laugh. "I work with one, but I don't think you could say that I *have* one." He smiled. Sharing this little moment with Jim would probably result in one sulky sentinel who would then require large amounts of culinary treats.

"Can you work with me?" she asked, hopefully.

Blair made a note about Sentinels and their ability to whine and beg. "I can get you started and give you some exercises to use to help control your responses to the increased stimulation," Sandburg promised. "There are many established techniques that any competent therapist can take you through."

"But would they be a guide?" she asked anxiously. Diane was closer than a woman of marriageable age should be if she weren't trying to get into his pants. Blair stepped back.

"No," he said sadly. "Unlike psychics, who we understand very well, modern Sentinels are still rare. Research has been sporadic. There existed an immense body of research, but war and time has either wiped it out or scattered it. I've put three teams into searching the oldest records of our first colony worlds in hopes of recovering the information they might have."

"But you've published over seventeen papers in the last two years alone on the subject. Can't you help me?" Her voice rose. "I need help." She threw herself into his arms and sniffed his neck. "What is it about your scent? It's very comforting."

Blair didn't push away. His presence in her arms was calming her down and bringing her senses back to normal levels. "I wear all natural botanicals. I can give you a list of shops that carry them." He gently pulled away. "You'll want to buy them for yourself and your guide."

"I will?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. You'll discover that manufactured scents irritate you." He patted her hand reassuringly. "Trust me, young lady, you'll want to go natural on everything that you can."

Diane began to pace the room like a caged animal. A tiger! Why was he seeing her as a tiger? "What is your plan?" she demanded. "You always have a plan."

Blair was puzzled. He'd never met this woman before, but she acted like they'd known each other a long time. "How do you know that? How do you know anything about me?"

Her fierce brown eyes seemed to eat him alive. "I've read your work, Doctor Sandburg. I've studied every word and clung to them like my last hope of sanity. It's been what I've been able to count on when I was ready to ask to be sedated." She gripped her hair and seemed ready to pull it out by the roots... then she calmed. "You live with six or seven alternate plans in your head at all times." She placed her hands on his chest. "What are you planning?"

"I have several advanced level anthropology grad students," Blair answered, automatically going into his teaching voice. "I'm going to see if you can bond with one of them."

"How many do you have for me to look at?" she asked as if he were an APV salesperson. 'Line me up a guide so I can kick their tires.' It wasn't very nice of him, but it was this kind of attitude that made people mistrust him because of his wealth.

"There are six candidates," Blair answered.

"That's all?" she asked, obviously appalled.

"Diane, look into my eyes, and see the truth in them. You are a sentinel, and even running on instinct, you can tell that I am not lying. I will help you. I *have* to help you." He waited until her breathing slowed and her grip on his nipples had eased. "These six candidates have already met my strictest screening procedures. They have it all--the educational background, physical capability, they're all close to your own age, and each one is empathic and sometimes telepathic also. I'm convinced we will find a match for you among them."

"Why can't I have you?" she asked.

Blair lowered his tone and slowed his speech. "Because, in every sense of the word, Diane, I am not free. You need someone to bond with you, and that will not happen between us." He sat down. "Now sit. We have a lot of work to do."

Sandburg spent almost four hours working with the young woman. When he left her home, Diane was at a stage where she could work with a therapist while she met individually with his guide potentials.

Blair stepped into the brisk night air, brought his collar up, and raced toward his car, which was parked on the far side of the circular drive, just under the security lights.

"Doctor Sandburg!" a man called.

Blair turned to see Diane's father running toward him. The man may have been slender, but he was seriously out of shape. Sandburg, who was regularly put through his paces physically by Maxine, Jim, and Jet, could be smug. "Yes, Mr. DeSpain?" he inquired politely.

"I didn't know you were leaving, Doctor Sandburg, but I need to talk to you," DeSpain explained.

Blair checked the time. As usual, he had things to do and places to be. Mainly, he needed to get home and find out what details had been nailed down for the upcoming Claudia-Jim nuptials. "I'm afraid that I'm already late for another appointment. I promise to call you tomorrow and arrange a time for your family to speak with the first guide candidate."

"My daughter wants to work with you, Doctor Sandburg," DeSpain announced. If Blair had thought that Diane had a haughty voice, he found that her father was a master of the rich, superior, and smug tone.

Blair sighed. When he was on a tight schedule, he found it difficult to be patient with anyone who wasn't thoroughly beloved by him or under the age of fifteen, which left DeSpain out of the loop. "That's impossible, Mr. DeSpain, I already have a charge."

The older man leveled a stunner at Blair's chest. "For my child, nothing is impossible." He shot Blair.

Jim spooned behind Claudia and adjusted the viewer so they both could see it. "Now that is beautiful. The form, the height... the chocolate layers. Yeah, that's the wedding cake for me."

"You have no regard for my figure, Jim," the doctor complained. "There must be a million calories in that thing."

"But it'll taste so good." He smacked his lips excitedly.

"How many 'gives' do you have left?" Claudia asked.

"Five. I've let you have a 'give' on the buffet menu, color scheme, location of nuptials, Rabbi, music, and the solo singer," Jim ticked off. "All I've gotten is the honor guard."

"Jim, if cousin Ida doesn't get to sing at my wedding, we will have to miss every family function until she dies," Claudia insisted.

"Failed opera singers should be locked into soundproofed basements during all gatherings," Jim countered.

"But I love her so." Claudia batted her lashes, making Jim all mushy inside.

"Claudia, you love your entire family," Jim reminded her.

She frowned. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Jim smiled. "No, I'm just stating a fact."

"Okay, we'll have the chocolate cake," Claudia agreed. "Promise to love me, no matter how much I weigh?"

Jim looked offended. "Your physical beauty is not dependent on your weight, my love. My love for you is not dependent on your physical beauty." He placed his fingers over the throbbing pulse in her neck. "I love the inner Claudia." He nuzzled his lady.

"I love you so much," she moaned.

"Good, because I am crazy in love with you." They kissed and were progressing to much more interesting pursuits when Jim felt a panicked mental call from Blair. It was faint, but he felt it.

"Jim?"

"It's Blair; he's in trouble." Ellison got off the couch. He placed simultaneous calls to Blair's datapad and car. The APV answered.

"This is Gail," the vehicle announced, perkily.

"Gail, this is Jim," Ellison responded. "Locate Blair."

"Doctor Sandburg is being carried back into the DeSpain mansion. His vitals indicate that he was shot with a heavy stunner."

"Are you free?" Jim asked anxiously.

"The parking clamps are at the highest setting, but I can escape," Gail reported. "All systems are at maximum power."

"Good," Jim responded quickly. "Broadcast 'Officer Down' at your loudest level."

"Done," Gail reported.

"I'm on my way to your location." Jim turned to find Claudia holding part of his armor. "They've stunned him. He went there to interview a possible sentinel. I should have gone with him." Jim was ready to scream. He'd failed in his duty to his teacher and let his dearest friend down.

"We'll get there in plenty of time," Claudia assured him as she grabbed her coat.

"We?" Jim asked, confused.

"I'm a doctor, Jim. There is no telling what they could be doing to Blair. You may have field experience, but my cousin was just recently, too recently I might add, put back together and I do not relish the thought of anything else happening to the man." Claudia shocked Jim with her determined expression. It was so different from her normal soft and gentle one.

Ellison wanted to argue with her, but then didn't because she was right. He tapped in his codes to get a security readout on the DeSpain mansion. It was bad, it was very bad. DeSpain had been a diplomat about five years ago and had made some very serious enemies. His estate security reflected that. "This is bad," he muttered.

"If Gail can blast out when we arrive, then we're in," Claudia explained. "Most security shields put the bulk of their might on the outside of the bubble."

Jim nodded. "That's very good. I see the Sandburg in you rising up."

"More like the Reynaldo in me," Claudia corrected. "Great-Grandmother Corrine was a strategist with Central Command."

"General Corrine Reynaldo? Wow, I studied her tactics when I was at the military academy." He tapped in more codes. The screen filled with pictures of his RO friends. "I need everyone's attention. Blair is being held in the DeSpain mansion just outside of San Francisco. We need to rescue him." He sent the security specifications to his friends. "Our advantage is that Gail is on the property and awake. She can blast out, leaving us a 20 second gap in the shields to enter the estate. We leave from here in ten minutes." He closed communications with everyone but Simon. "Simon, I need Daryl."

"What?" Banks asked, astounded.

"Hear me out, Simon," Jim said quickly. "Blair told me that he couldn't work with another sentinel effectively as long as I was alive. We're bonded."

"I know that," Simon reminded Jim. Jim knew his friend wasn't dismissing what he was saying, but Simon was a father and Daryl's safety was more important to him than Blair's. Jim wouldn't expect any other response.

"Hear me out, Simon," Jim insisted. "We're bonded now, but a powerful psychic could break that bond."

"And a very powerful one could put it back," Simon finished, understanding. "I'll pick him up and meet you at the DeSpain mansion. He'll be safe outside." Simon pulled on his black combat gloves. The man had big hands and putting on those gloves did more for intimidation than actual combat efficiency. "Daryl is going to kill me for ruining his date."

Jim didn't believe that for a second. "This is Blair we're talking about, Simon. Daryl will kill you for not coming to get him so that he could help."

Banks couldn't argue with that. He turned off his communication center and quietly explained the situation to his wife. Only Helaine's pregnancy kept her from accompanying him to rescue her beloved nephew. Banks had seen her in action when they'd gone to recover Marcus, so he knew she was more than capable of handling herself. They could have used her.

Simon flew out to the Belle Flora Gardens, a domed gardenscape where Daryl was escorting Lady Consuela Montalban of the planet Corazon to a concert and dinner. Daryl made it a point to make sure that teenagers coming from other worlds to the Pyramid Group for training had a circle of fellow teenagers to lean on as they made the difficult transition from living at home amongst friends and family to living on a distant planet where they didn't know a soul. The fact that the young woman was so beautiful was simply a bonus for Daryl.

Simon found his son sitting with the young lady in the balcony section close to the so-called "royal box", overlooking the concert stage.

~Dad?~ Daryl sent, his mental touch comforting and concerned.

Banks stepped into the balcony area. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Daryl, Consuela, but Blair is being held hostage, and Jim thinks they will be using a psychic to break him."

Daryl turned to his date. "Consuela, I'm very sorry, but this is a family matter, and I must help rescue my cousin. Will you forgive me?"

"Daryl, I would only not forgive you if you did nothing," the young woman said rising to her feet. "How may I help?"

"Consuela, this could be very dangerous," Simon said quickly, as he wondered who he could call to escort the young woman back to her dorm. Almost all of the RO who worked on his shift, and therefore the ones he knew the best, were going on the rescue. "The compound is heavily guarded and protected. There will be shooting."

"Captain Banks, I can mindspeak and locate at great distances, even with total strangers," Consuela reminded Simon. "I've met Doctor Sandburg, and I can locate his mind very quickly. He is... unique."

Simon thought about it. They needed the help, but Consuela was only sixteen. A child. But a child who could drop most people with a thought. "Okay, but you stay in the car. No heroics out of either of you."

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

Blair awoke to find himself strapped down on a medical bed. He was properly hooked up to the equipment that would monitor his vital signs and his brainwave patterns. They were going to try to break his bond with Jim so he could take on another sentinel. It was their only course of action in bonding him to Diane. Too bad it wasn't going to work.

Sandburg freed his left wrist, leaving the skin on the top of his hand raw and aching. He untied the straps without touching the monitoring equipment that would give off an alarm and alert his captors.

Concentrating on his breathing, so as to not give himself away too quickly, Blair slipped out of the medical bed. He was naked, and they had shaved parts of his chest for the best contact with the sensor equipment. It was obvious they had planned this part very carefully. No one would just have all this stuff lying around.

He tried the door and found it was locked.

"You're very clever, Doctor Sandburg. We've enjoyed the little demonstration you've given us," DeSpain's voice reverberated, "but we have to get down to business."

Two large and armed men entered the room. Blair's training took over. They were there to subdue. He was there to escape. They had limits. He didn't.

Guard number one took a vicious blow to the throat. Guard number two swung his rifle butt at Blair's head. The doctor went under the swing and used the larger man's forward momentum to throw him into the first guard. Blair gave the second guard two punishing kicks to the ribs that robbed the larger man of his breath.

Sandburg grabbed the first guard's gun and headed out of the room. Halfway down the hall, a tall and gray-haired man stepped out into Blair's path.

"To leave you will have to kill me," the older man said. "Can you do that?"

Blair shot him in the thigh. A painful but nonfatal shot. "What do you think?"

The man blinked out of existence, and Blair felt a touch on his head that froze him.

DeSpain looked at his psychic. "He surprised you, didn't he?"

"Yes," the gray-haired man replied as he rubbed his thigh where his projection had been shot. "I don't like surprises." He kicked Sandburg in the side.

DeSpain slapped Copeland hard, shocking the man. "If you physically harm that man again, I will use your high-priced skin to make myself a new wallet. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Copeland responded. "Move him back to the bed. Don't bother with the restraints, he's frozen." He waited while this was done. "Well, Blair Jason Sandburg, you and I are about to dance." He leaned in until his lips were almost touching Blair's. "And I always lead."

. . . .

Blair felt someone lightly slapping his face. His head hurt and his side throbbed. He tried to focus in on the face before him. "Daddy?"

"In a way," the man answered.

His face became more focused for Blair. "Damien?"

"In the flesh, if I still had flesh." The taller man turned around. He was wearing denim pants, a simple white shirt opened at the throat, and boots. He was a tall and very muscular man, who bore a strong resemblance to Blair. Or, more precisely, Blair bore a strong resemblance to him.

"What are you doing here?" Blair asked, thoroughly confused.

"You summoned me," Damien answered, his handsome face set in a casual smirk.

"I did?" Blair asked. "Why would I do that?"

Damien touched Blair's forehead. "You need my strength, and I'm here to lend it to you."

Blair blinked. "Are you real?" he asked, even though he could feel the other man's warm skin against his.

Damien laughed. "I've been asked many things. Are you gay? Are you kidding? Are you sleeping with my lover? Are you really going to shoot me? Did you blow up my factory? But never once have I been asked if I were real." He lightly pinched Blair's earlobe. "I'm real. My blood is in your veins, my spirit resides in your heart." He paused when he saw what had to be Blair's wide-eyed response. "Would it make it easier if I just said that I'm a symbol of your fighting spirit?"

The younger Sandburg nodded. "Probably."

"Then that's the way we'll go." He pointed upward. "Outside, some mind-bender is trying to take away part of your life. I'm here to stop that."

Blair pulled himself together and realized where he was and what had to be happening to him. "Jim, he's trying to break my bond with Jim."

"Think about Jim," Damien said. "Tell me about him, so we can keep him safe."

"Jim is my friend, my partner, my Shield, my house-mate, and my sentinel." A ghostly James Ellison stood before them.

"He has importance to you?" Damien asked, though surely the man had to know the answer.

"Of course," Blair assured the man. "Beyond being a sentinel, Jim is my friend."

Damien walked around Jim's image. "He's Freddy's child."

Blair nodded. "A direct descendant, straight male line."

Something about that phrase made Damien laugh. He waved his hand. "Sorry." He snickered.

"What?" Blair asked, suspicious.

"Nothing," Damien assured him; changing his expression from amused to serious so fast it could have caused whiplash. "It's ironic that our families have come together again. Freddy insisted there had been another Ellison-Sandburg pairing before us, but we could never find anything but the family stories we had in common."

"Jim is to marry Claudia, who is my first cousin." Claudia's image appeared. "Our families will truly be joined this time."

Damien smiled at Claudia's image. "Definitely a child of mine."

"Her father, Frederick, is my father's older brother," Blair explained.

Damien grinned. "Frederick? I like that." Jet's image popped in and started to fade immediately. "Who is this lovely woman?" Damien asked. "She looks Martian."

"Jet Preston, my lady," Blair answered reverently. "I want to ask her to marry me."

"Why take your lady?" Damien asked. "Marriage does not affect the bond."

Blair cleared his throat because the thought of betraying both Jim and Jet in one act almost kept him from breathing. It could not happen. It would not happen if he could stop it. "The new sentinel is female and young. Maybe they think if I'm free emotionally, we will bond better."

"Sex has nothing to do with the bond, Blair." Damien reminded him. "It can increase it, but it is not necessary for meshing."

"Did you--"

"She looks powerful and forceful; just the kind of woman an academic like you could use at your back." The way he said academic was affectionate, and Blair was sure Damien's attitude concerning scholars came from his association with the academic Frederick Martin Ellison.

Jet's image became stronger. "She is. Her family is the Hewitt-Preston line."

"Good fighters during the war," Damien said admiringly, "and as I recall, they were excellent smugglers before the war."

"Smugglers?" Blair asked, aghast.

Damien sighed. "Taxes made the cost of a quart of milk over thirty credits. Smuggled, it was five credits. I could tell you stories of children with bones so weak that they would snap under the most innocent of circumstances. That's the way Earth wanted them--weak and helpless. If you aren't willing to smuggle to get milk into your child's belly, then you're no son of mine." Damien's voice was cold and dangerous. Blair wasn't sure he could imitate it or even convey a tenth of that attitude.

"I would never let my child go hungry," Blair assured his ancestor. "Jet and I both want children. She'll be an excellent wife, and a better mother. She's the first woman I've ever felt that way about. Best of all, she has given me the time to explore those feelings and to be sure before we've taken each new step." Jet's image solidified, and she went to stand beside Jim and Claudia. "I'm sorry about my earlier outburst," Blair said. "Different times."

"Yes, they were." Damien looked Blair up and down; making Blair want to hide his manicured nails and professionally styled hair. "I would bet that you live well, comfortably, with no worries about where your next meal will come from or how you would pay for it."

"No, I have no money worries. I was born to wealth and have increased my personal fortune every year," Blair responded. He wasn't ashamed. He worked damn hard for his money. The miracle of compound interest aside, his earnings came from his patents, patients, and wily investments in the future, be it improved communications, updated ships, or even a farming world.

"But your money is not a source of pride for you, is it?" Damien asked, interrupting Blair's thoughts.

"No, it's a means to an end. A way to ease the path for what I want," Blair tried to explain. "If I lost it all today, I could build most of it back in a few years because I have many skills."

Damien smiled. "Good." Marcus and Naomi's images formed. "The man must be your father. Who is the lady?"

Blair smiled. "That's my mother, Naomi."

"Lovely. I see the Sandburg appreciation for beauty has not been filtered down." He walked around Blair's parents. "Tell me about her. I can see there is much more to her than her looks."

Blair was happy to oblige. "She's a doctor and a nutritional expert. She taught me about ships when I was little. We've traveled all over the Earth and the Human Sphere. She's my inspiration whenever I have a difficult moral decision to make. Mom made me who I am."

"And your father?" Damien asked, standing beside Marcus's image.

"Dad taught me to love books but to never ignore people. He taught me about art, conversation, and how to seduce women. He's my first and best friend, but he's not afraid to call me on my mistakes. He taught me to be a man, and what that really means." Blair groaned, as his head seemed to be pressed from both the inside and the outside.

"Hang in there, Son. He's trying harder, because you're resisting him." Maxine's image formed. "Oh, my! Please tell me you've slept with her and share the images." Damien drooled. "Make me your slave, luscious."

"Damien!" Blair protested. "That's my little sister and my cousin's wife. I would thank you to show her full respect."

"How could you resist her?" Damien asked, obviously unbelieving of Blair's restraint.

Blair thought about that. He and Jet were not dating when he met Maxine. He wasn't such an overprotective Big Brother Ogre that he couldn't see exactly how beautiful and sensual she was. But Blair had never been a slave to his animal nature, no matter how much he was tempted. Maxine was... not to be touched. Treasured, protected, natured, and adored, but never touched. Not by him. "She was my trainee and off limits. Though technically, she was Jim's trainee, I felt that I was teaching her, too. Yes, she is stunning, but from that first day, I felt protective of her. On her very first day on duty, she had to kill someone and she saved my life by literally covering my body with her own. How do you go from that to trying to get her naked? I adore her. Not to brag, but I have *never* wanted for bed partners, but true friends are hard to find because of my position and wealth. Maxine is a true friend. I would do anything for her." He sighed. "She's my little sister."

Simon walked in to stand beside them. "Oh, my. This must be a child of Jerry Porter."

"Jerry Porter?" Blair asked. He was sure he'd memorized the list of Damien's contacts, i.e. family, friends, suppliers, and co-conspirators, but the name Jerry Porter did not immediately click.

"He was our partner during the war," Damien explained. "I'm surprised you don't know about him. He kept us supplied. Quite frankly, he kept us alive. Jerry was our backup and provided us with places to hide. Go back and study him. He's the JP in my war journals. Fred and I were as good as dead, if we were caught, and we still put our names in the journals, but everyone else had initials only in my writing. This man must be a descendent of Jerry's. I can see Jerry imprinted right on him. God, I miss him." He gazed lovingly at Banks. "Tell me about this lovely man."

"This is Simon Banks. He's our captain, father of Daryl, and new husband of my mother's older sister, Helaine. Helaine is the mother of Robert, Maxine's husband." The Banks family stood before them. "He brought Jim and me together. Jim was ready to quit the RO because his real senses had kicked in and overridden his chip. Simon found me to help his officer."

"There are no coincidences, you know. Fate has brought you all together for a reason." He continued to gaze at Simon, his eyes brimming with tears. "Do you love this man?"

Blair smiled. "Yes, he's my uncle, but before that, he was my very good friend." Even the mess with the rogue RO had not diminished his affection for Simon.

"Excellent. Look after him. Jerry died so young, leaving behind a pregnant wife and two little children." Damien drew in a deep breath. "Renee never forgave us."

"What happened?" Blair asked.

"Jerry was tortured by Earth's Army special interrogators when he was found with our supplies. He died rather than give us up." Damien had to be a thousand times tougher than Blair. It would have killed him to have reported Simon's death.

Blair shuddered at the thought of losing Simon like that. Not Simon. Never. "I'll protect him." He looked at his family now standing in a solid group. "I'll protect them all." The group wavered. "What's happening?"

"That damn mind-bender is stepping up the campaign," Damien spat.

The doctor began drawing connecting lines between everyone in his group. "Let's play six degrees of Blair," he whispered.

Damien seemed transfixed at the sheer speed of the decisions Blair was having to make as he connected his family back to himself in as many configurations as possible until he had a line of logic which led him to everyone he held dear.

"How can you do that so fast?" Damien asked, sounding amazed.

"It's what I do best." Blair made his final decision. "This person is my key." With that decision made, everyone lined up behind his key, compressed, and disappeared. "When I see him, everything will come back to me." He reached toward Damien.

"What are you doing?" the elder Sandburg asked.

"I'm becoming you. I need you to get me out of here before I lose my key and my past," Blair explained. The two men merged. "I am Damien."

. . . .

Bert Copeland was exhausted. Doctor Sandburg had to have been more than the psi 3 that he was ranked. He had to be. Copeland was a psi 11, and he should have smashed the other man's resistance long ago. The psychic was considering drugs when Sandburg's resistance collapsed. At last!

"Okay, Blair. Your family is gone. You are all alone. It is time for you take a sentinel to teach. It is your destiny." He looked up at his employer. "Bring your daughter down."

"My destiny," Blair/Damien whispered.

"Exactly." Copeland smiled. Sandburg looked so helpless and afraid. His large green eyes were looking around in utter confusion. The man was really quite adorable like this, and Bert felt bad for kicking the pretty little thing earlier. "There, there, beautiful. My name is Bert, and I believe you and I can be *very* special friends." He ran his finger alone the plump bottom lip of the doctor.

The younger man's expression never changed as his elbow came up and drove the air from Copeland's chest.

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

"By the numbers people," Simon said. "You two stay in here until we get Sandburg."

"Yes, Dad," Daryl responded as he placed himself in front of Consuela.

"He's on the first floor, on the west side. He is conscious and moving," Consuela reported.

"Bring him back safe, Dad. He's counting on us," Daryl said as he gave Simon the High Sign.

"Count on it." Simon stepped out and organized his people. Claudia was moved into his vehicle to sit with Daryl and Lady Montalban. He pressed his backup gun into Daryl's hands. His child had been trained in weapons and hand-to-hand fighting since soon after he could walk. Simon made many enemies in his line of work.

Ellison looked strange to Simon--larger, heavier, more dangerous than he had ever seemed. The smaller man was on edge. "She's in there and close to him," the sentinel hissed.

Simon didn't like the man's tone. It promised major carnage and maximum property loss. "Jim?"

"He's mine, you bitch. Don't you *dare* touch him!" Jim shouted at the fences. Most fences rarely rose to the bait of verbal taunting.

"Ellison, look at me," Banks commanded.

Jim's blue eyes were dark, and his lip curled up into a snarl. "It's about territory, Simon. Blair belongs to me. No other sentinel can touch him."

Banks nodded. The chances of them going in without Jim were on a par with Simon waking up in the morning with a desire to wear hot pink. In other words, none at all. "On three." He counted off with hand signals.

Gail blasted the DeSpain estate shields. Despite her civilian appearance, the APV was loaded to the gills with weapons. Something that Simon had arranged for his beloved soon-to-be nephew a few weeks before he and Helaine married.

After meeting Kravitz again, Blair had become more skittish around RO personnel. Twice he had nearly taken the head off a rookie who hadn't made enough noise before touching him.

Banks had taken Sandburg aside, and the two of them had a "no holds barred" conversation. "Blair, tell me what's wrong," he had begged.

Sandburg sat in stony silence for several minutes, then knocked everything off Banks's desk. Simon did not flinch and did not budge. If Blair wanted to destroy every piece of equipment on the floor, Simon felt the department owed the man that and more.

"I don't feel safe anymore, Simon," Blair confessed. "I hate that feeling. I'm surrounded by my friends, and I keep waiting for someone to try and kill me." Blair started to shake.

Banks pulled the smaller man into his arms and held him. "Blair, I want you to know that no one is going to hurt you, because they have to get past Jim, Jet, Maxine, and me. That's a pretty formidable wall."

Sandburg settled in the bigger man's arms. "Thanks, Simon."

"I know you've been carrying a gun," Simon admitted, "and before you ask, no, Jim didn't tell me. I saw it."

"I sleep with it when I'm alone," Blair said softly with the same tone someone would use to admit they'd been drinking in secret.

Simon hated the sound of that. Hated the look on Blair's face when he admitted that he slept with a gun. Jim would be going out of town in a few days and had hinted Simon could make himself a more visible presence during that time. All without breaking Blair's confidence about the gun. "Hey, Blair, when Jim goes with Claudia to that medical convention next week, why don't Daryl and I come over and abuse your hospitality?"

Blair laughed. "That would be fun."

"Good."

The two Banks men had descended on Blair and kept him busy. Simon took Sandburg's fancy APV, a rich man's toy if Banks had ever beheld one, into HQ and had a weapons system installed. Something the other man had resisted, until now. Blair, as a civilian expert who often came under fire, was entitled to that protection. Blair, as the son of his soon-to-be sister-in-law, deserved that protection.

"We're coming to take you home," Banks promised. Simon blasted his way into the mansion, stunning everyone who wasn't with him, or wasn't Blair.

. . . .

Diane screamed from the sound of shots coming from the lower levels of the mansion. "Father, what have you done?"

"Security!" DeSpain shrieked.

"Father, that's RO. I can hear them yelling. What have you done?" Diane demanded.

"I wanted to get Sandburg for you. A psychic has broken his bond with his sentinel. He's yours," DeSpain promised his child.

Diane raced down the stairs, tuning her sense of smell toward that unique herbal scent. Blair would be hers. He had to be. He was the one; she was sure.

There was a fading trail that took her down to the storage areas. There she found a medical bed, restraints, a broken locker, and a badly injured white-haired man. Sandburg had done this? There was no way a man as gentle as Blair Sandburg could have hurt someone like this. She was convinced of that... mostly.

Diane's instincts led her out of the room and toward the east wing. Blair had gone that way. She entered the music room and was grabbed from behind. It was Blair.

"Scream and I will snap your fucking neck," he hissed.

"Doctor Sandburg?" she whispered.

"Doctor, that's rich," he muttered harshly. "I never made it past tenth grade." He pulled her over to the doors. "Seems you're holding me on Earth but not for long. Unlock this. Try anything stupid, and you will discover how long it takes to reconstruct a face."

"Blair, I'm a sentinel," Diane said, hoping to calm the man down. Whatever her father had done, it was now up to Diane to protect her only line of training and a guide.

"That's nice, lady, but I already have one of my own," Sandburg snarled.

Diane tried again. Her father had said his bond was broken and her father never lied to her. "I can be your sentinel. I can be *everything* to you. I can do things for you that your sentinel can't."

"Yeah, you can," Blair agreed.

Diane sighed. Things were finally working out. "I know I can."

"You can start by unlocking this door." He squeezed her neck in such a way that a horrifying shooting pain traveled up her arm, and his voice had never changed to indicate he was going to hurt her. That added to her fear.

Diane unlocked the door. Sandburg dragged her outside like a shield. "Please stop. My father just made a mistake, Doctor Sandburg. Just leave. You're free."

"Stuck on Earth with every hand turned against me? That's not freedom," Sandburg countered.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. They were in the wrong, not Sandburg. If anyone ended up in prison, it would be her father.

"Step away from him, lady," a new male voice ordered.

Diane was hauled around to face this new voice. He was a tall RO, a lieutenant by his insignia. "He's got me, you idiot," she complained.

The RO removed his helmet. He was handsome, blue-eyed, and a danger.

"Freddy?" Blair whispered. He relaxed his grip on Diane, allowing her to escape.

Diane lunged at the RO. She had to take him down and quickly, though she had no idea how. He was a danger. He would take her guide. He had to die.

The RO batted her aside like she was a child. She lay panting on the ground with his foot firmly and painfully in the small of her back.

Jim had found his guide and the Sentinel who wanted to take him. "Sandburg, are you all right?"

"Freddy, what have you done to your hair? I told you never to cut it, and that color! Young man when I get you home, you'll be sleeping on your stomach for a week."

Jim nearly laughed, but instantly realized that Sandburg wasn't kidding. Freddy? Blair had called him Freddy, and the tone of his voice was so harsh, so totally different from the way his teacher normally sounded. If Jim was Freddy, then Blair thought he was Damien. What had the bastards done to his friend? In taking away Jim, had they taken away Blair? Why did Blair think he was Damien?

"Damien, we need to leave," Jim said firmly. "Our friends are wearing armor like this, so don't go after them. I need you to stay with me," he declared protectively.

Sandburg snorted. "Freddy, you're the one who needs protection."

"Right, so I need you to stick close so I won't be hurt," Jim said, hopefully.

Blair smiled. "Always." He fondly patted Ellison's face. "Have you grown or have I shrunk?"

Jim's thoughts raced. Freddy was actually shorter than Damien, almost two inches shorter. They didn't photograph that way, but in their journals both men had noted their height difference. "Boots," he said, hoping Blair wouldn't question it too closely.

"No!" Diane shouted. "Don't take him away!"

Blair grabbed Jim's backup weapon and leveled it at Diane.

"No!" Jim shouted.

"Freddy, you're so damn squeamish. This woman held me hostage, pumped me full of drugs, and tortured me. That sounds like a death wish to me." He gazed down at Diane. "You know how I hate to disappoint a woman."

"No, I didn't. It wasn't my fault. I would never hurt him. You know I'm not lying, you're a Sentinel!" Diane screamed.

She wasn't lying, but Blair, or Damien, would kill this woman. "Leave her, please?" Jim pleaded.

"I know I'm going to regret this." He changed the setting of the gun and stunned her. "I need to learn to resist you."

"Ellison to team, I have Sandburg," Jim reported over his comm link. "Repeat, I have Sandburg, and we're coming out."

Blair started running. Jim followed, amazed at the other man's speed. The two of them came around the sideyard to the front steps. RO kept the household pinned down with suppression fire while Jim loaded Blair into the car.

"Where did you steal this?" Blair asked as he admired his own APV.

"It's a long story." Jim took off. Behind them, RO swarmed the mansion. Now that Blair was out, they no longer had to hold back.

"Where are we going?" Sandburg asked as he studied the instrumentation of the control panel.

"We have a patron, and his name is Hawthorne," Jim responded. "He has a place we can stay."

"What does he want?" Sandburg asked suspiciously.

"He already got what he wanted," Jim said in a non-committed tone, hoping that would end the question and answer session.

Blair touched Jim's knee. "I told you that you didn't have to do that anymore, Freddy. There are other ways to pay our debts."

Jim was dying to know what Sandburg thought he had done for a safe place, but he needed to get his friend home, not satisfy his curiosity. "We're almost there."

"We're being followed," Sandburg announced.

Ellison checked his screen. "It's Daryl and Claudia. They're with us." Now the question was, how had Blair known that the other vehicle had been following them? Did his belief that he was Damien and not Blair, affect his skills?

It must have, or how had he escaped, taken a hostage, and relieved Jim so easily of his gun?

"Daryl, meet me and Sandburg in the house," Jim called to Simon's AV.

"Okay," the young man responded. "Ellison, don't worry. Blair will be joining us soon."

Ellison? Daryl never called him Ellison. He was Jim, the Big Kahuna, and occasionally "the evil man who has stolen my Claudia away from me," but never Ellison. So he must have known that Blair was not quite himself. "Okay."

Blair twirled his knife through his fingers in true Martian style. A skill that Sandburg did not possess. "I hope this hidey hole has some food. I could eat a pig."

That made Jim laugh. Blair had once said, "If a good Jew decides to eat pork, he should enjoy it so much that the juice runs down his chin. I'm not there yet."

His laughter seemed to relax Blair because he laughed too. Suddenly, Jim had a terrible thought--what if Daryl couldn't find Blair inside Damien? Yes, he was still a guide, probably a much better guide in that Damien was war trained, but he was not Blair. Sandburg's usefulness went far beyond his ability to be Jim's teacher. Every aspect of Ellison's life had improved because of Blair. He reached over and stroked the younger man's hair. He needed Blair, not just a guide, but the whole man, back in his life.

"How long did they have me? My hair is past my shoulders," Blair complained.

"It was part of your disguise to match your fake ID," Jim said quickly. "The same reason I had to get rid of my trademark mane." Blair would kill him if he let Damien cut Blair's hair. Only Mr. Tony was allowed to touch his friend's tresses.

"Oh. It's curly too. Remember how straight it was the first time we put that stuff on it so I wasn't the 'Big, Curly-Haired Dude'?" Sandburg ran his hands through his hair. "Do I look stupid?"

"No. I like the length." I always have, he wanted to add. He always liked Blair just as he was. Something he had never bothered to tell the man. Another failing he needed to correct. Damn, his list was getting long.

"This is the fanciest scout ship I have ever seen," Blair said as he checked the compartments. Most of the stuff was unbelievable luxuries during Damien's time.

"Yeah, and if I don't return it without a scratch..." Jim let the statement hang in the air.

Blair patted Ellison's thigh. "If the owner lays a hand on you, I'll slit their throat," he promised.

Jim believed that. "It won't come to that." Ellison wondered if he sounded that dangerous when he promised to "deal" with people who hurt Blair. He looked over at his friend. Yeah, he probably did.

They landed at the house, and Jim led Blair straight into the library. "Hawthorne, send in Daryl as soon as he arrives. No one else but Daryl."

"I understand," Hawthorne said, casting a nervous eye toward Blair.

Sandburg obviously wanted to say something to their butler, but Jim cut him off. Hawthorne didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of whatever dressing down Damien thought the man deserved. He guided his friend into the newly restored room.

Sandburg circled the library and checked for exits. Then, with an eerie air of total silence, he waited. It was unnerving. Blair moved almost constantly, but Damien was the essence of stillness.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock. "It's Daryl," the young man announced.

"Come in," Jim called.

"Sorry about the delay, but Claudia flies like a little old lady," Daryl said as he strolled into the room. Long and lean, Daryl seemed both terribly young and harmless. Jim wasn't sure if that was an illusion sent by the power of the young man's mind.

Blair stepped in front of Jim to size the young man up as a threat to his Sentinel. "I'm Damien," he said, softly.

"I know," Daryl responded. He reached out and touched Blair's forehead. Sandburg slumped into the younger man's arms.

"What did you do?" Jim demanded, frightened by seeing Blair collapse like that.

"I'm the trigger. I could see it clearly." Daryl moved Blair to the couch as if the older man weighed nothing. But compared to Daryl, he practically didn't.

Jim helped lay Blair out. "What are you talking about?"

"The psychic was trying to remove anyone who would cause Blair to remember you and your bond. So he locked his memories of you and the rest of his family behind one person, who outwardly wouldn't look like a direct link back to you." Daryl placed his hands on the center of Blair's chest.

"What are you doing?" Ellison asked.

"I am the key, and I'm unlocking the door." Daryl smiled. "Oh Jim, I wish I could make you understand how much he loves us."

"You don't have to explain it to me," Ellison reassured the younger man. "I already know."

Blair blinked his eyes. "Daryl?"

"Hi, Cuz. How do you feel?" Daryl inquired as he stepped back.

Blair sat up with Jim's help. "Okay." He looked around. "It worked?"

"Obviously," Daryl replied. "You did an incredible job." He hugged Blair. "Are you sure that you're only a 3?"

"Actually, I'm a psi 6 now," Blair admitted, sounding embarrassed.

"How is that possible?" Jim asked.

"There are only three things that can increase your psi levels after physical maturity," Daryl said. "Birth of a child, a near-death experience, or a profound bond. You must be the profound bond."

"Really?" Blair said, in a puzzled tone. "I thought he was the child."

Jim hugged his teacher. "I should get you for that, but I'm too happy to have you back."

"I had to come back to my life. You all mean too much to me to lose," Blair explained as he hugged Jim tightly.

Jim's nose tickled. "Ah, Blair?"

"Yeah?"

"You've got to bathe. That *woman's* scent is on you, and I can't stand it!" Jim itched to do something, anything to wipe that other Sentinel's taint from his guide.

Blair pulled back from the embrace. The scholar's light was in his eyes. "Can I make a few notes about your responses to an invasion of your territory?"

Jim fidgeted. "Chief, I need you out of those clothes before I rip them off you, burn them, dump you in a tub, and scrub you pink." He grabbed a pillow off the couch and twisted it until the contents burst from the fabric and spilled onto the floor.

Sandburg rose from the couch and left using Daryl as a shield.

Daryl stared Jim down. "Don't make me win Claudia by default," he warned.

As much as Jim wanted to pursue and assure himself that woman's touch was gone from his teacher, he would rather take on a full RO squad than Daryl Banks while he was in full protective mode. Jim was acutely aware of how outclassed he was.

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

Blair watched with pride as Daryl testified in the DeSpain and Copeland trial. Their advocate tried to trip the psychic up, but the young man was more than a match for the clever legal expert. Diane DeSpain had not been charged, because she had not been involved in the kidnapping.

The fifth grad student Blair had interviewed, Kip Runyon, and the young Sentinel had clicked immediately. The irony was that they had grown up in the same neighborhood. Kip's parents had taken care of the family in a mansion less than a mile from where Diane had lived her entire life. The two students had transferred from Rainier to Berkeley to keep Diane out of Jim's way. It was safer for her. Every time Ellison saw her, he had to be restrained. Breaking her neck seemed to be almost a moral imperative for Jim.

Bert Copeland had recovered, at least physically, from the beating that Damien had given him. Even after seeing the security tapes, Blair could hardly imagine himself as being capable of such violence. He or Damien had beaten the psychic to the ground, then casually smashed open the locker and dressed in Blair's clothes while Copeland begged for help with the hot wet sound of blood caught in his damaged throat.

Blair had *become* Damien to escape, but what did that really mean? Had he studied his ancestor so well that he could make himself believe he was that man? If it were all just his imagination, then where had the knowledge of Jerry Porter come from?

Jerry Porter had died protecting Damien and Frederick from Earth. Leaving behind a wife with two children under five and a third one on the way. Porter was a debt the family had to repay.

Sandburg needed a top-notch researcher to solve the puzzle of Jerry Porter. His best researcher had just graduated, received her Ph.D., and was currently weighing her many employment opportunities. He was going to offer her a permanent position with the Sandburg Foundation.

"The jury's coming back," Jim whispered.

That was quick. The jury had deliberated for less than thirty minutes. Both men received fifteen years on the new prison world for kidnapping and mental tampering.

Sandburg left the courtroom to meet up with his assistant.

"Brandy, now that you've gotten your doctorate, I know that you're looking forward to being out in the corporate world. I can't match the excitement of being a researcher for a multi-planet organization, but I can match the salary and perks. Would you come work for me?" Sandburg asked sweetly. You had to start off sweet with someone you intended to work like a pack mule.

Brandy thought about it for less than a minute. "When do I start?"

Blair hugged the young woman. "Right away, in fact, this very minute. I want you to find out everything you can about Jerry Porter. He was the supplier for Damien and Frederick during the war."

"JP?" she asked.

"Exactly," Blair agreed. "I need to know as much as you can find out about him, especially who his descendants are."

"I'll get right to it," she promised.

-- The End --

Next up, Chapter 20: Debt.