Title : Debt
Author: YS McCool
Rating: PG-13
Date  : 18 July 1998
Series: Upgrade # 20
Warnings: Adult themes

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.  Original characters are
the sole property of the author.


                          Upgrade # 20
                              Debt
                          By YS McCool


Shaking, Brandy Hunter leaned back from the terminal.  She
had never come across military files from the Martian War of
Independence that were still classified... until now.  The
interrogation of Jerry Coleman Porter had been sealed.  Not
because of the brutality of what had happened to the man,
but how that one prisoner had fought back.

She had found the evidence she needed by searching the
medical reports from that time.  Porter had been tortured,
nearly to death, but before he had died, his telekinetic
abilities, which had been barely understood at the time, had
gone from latent, to full-blown.

Brandy hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until
she saw Joyce Vecchio and Jim Ellison heading her way.  She
rushed to their side.  "Hi, guys.  Let's get out of here,"
the researcher urged.

"I take it you found what you wanted?" Jim asked cautiously.

"More than I bargained for, and I won't feel comfortable
until we get out of this building."  She looked about
nervously.


Ellison put his arms around both ladies' waists and escorted
them out of the building.  He would wait until they were in
the sky above the Pentagon before he started questioning
them.  The old military headquarters was now just a hall of
records storing information as trivial as the number of
boots ordered on a certain day during the First American
Civil War to as sensitive as who ordered what leader
assassinated.

"Okay, what did you find?" Joyce asked, speaking for both
Jim and herself.

"Jerry Porter was tortured to death by the Earth Authority,"
Hunter began.

"We knew that," Jim said impatiently.  Brandy looked like
she'd received a real fright, but if she didn't share the
details he couldn't deal with it.

The researcher twisted the handgrip in front of her.  "But
before he died, he took almost twenty people with him."

"What?" Vecchio gasped.

"During the torture, Porter's telekinetic abilities
manifested."  Hunter took a deep breath and continued.  Her
voice calmed.  "He killed every one of his interrogators;
that's why they weren't listed as war criminals."  Brandy
bent over her datapad.  "Eight died from having their hearts
crushed from inside their chests."

"Damn," Ellison muttered.  He goosed up their speed to put
the Pentagon further behind them.

Her litany continued.  She stared ahead, putting ages,
faces, and loved ones to the seemingly endless dead. "Seven
guards died from broken necks.  Two supervisors, who were in
the observation room two floors up, died from ruptured
spleens."

"What did they do?"  Jim asked in a choked voice, fearing
the worst.

Brandy choked.  "They sealed the room and left Porter to
starve to death.  He lasted eight days."

Joyce shook.  "Good Lord."

"What aren't you telling us?"  Jim asked, in a monotone.  It
was his 'high carnage ahead of us' voice from his Deep Space
days.


Brandy didn't want to tell this part, but she had to.  "His
body was never removed from that room, Jim.  Two attempts
resulted in two healthy young guards dropping dead from
heart attacks.  Eventually they designated the room as
contaminated and sealed it and all approaching corridors
off.  His body is still there."  Her voice was strangely
emotionless to her ears, as if she were reporting the
weather pattern and not the senseless death of a husband and
father, and his torturers.

"In the Pentagon?" Ellison asked incredulously.

"Yes," Brandy said firmly.

"That's disgusting," Vecchio asserted.  "They have got to
bury that man."


"The trick will be getting them to acknowledge that his body
is still there.  The war is long over, but an atrocity is
always fresh, especially for his descendants."  Jim turned
and looked at Blair's assistant.  The woman was staring out
of the window and looking terribly young.

"I wonder if any of his descendants are telekinetic?" Joyce
pondered.

"You never know," Jim said, quietly.  "How did your ship
research go?" He asked the engineer.

Vecchio sighed.  "Nothing as dramatic as Brandy's discovery,
but I did find The Renee.  I have a money trail that should
give us more leads in finding Porter's descendants."

"Are you all right, Jim?" Hunter asked.

Ellison shook himself.  "I'm just thinking about Blair's
reaction to all this.  It won't be pretty."

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

Doctor Blair Sandburg gently awakened his patient,  RO
lieutenant, Daphne Morgan.  Daphne had had her chip
permanently scrambled five years ago by an anti-chip device
during an attempt to assassinate the then president of the
Human Sphere.

Unable to maintain a field position, Morgan had transferred
to the academy, where she was highly regarded.  Her ability
to adapt to a life without her chip had made her the perfect
candidate for the new external implant.

"Daphne, this is Doctor Sandburg.  Can you hear me?" Blair
whispered.

"Clearly," she responded as she squeezed her eyes tightly
closed.

"Open your eyes for me."  Morgan opened her eyes.   Doctor
Sandburg watched her pupils expand and contract in the
classic enhanced pattern of adjustment.  "What do you see?"

"Your beautiful face," she reported.

Blair smiled.  "Flattery will lower your bill.  Now look
past my head and concentrate on the ceiling tiles.  There
are phrases written into them.  Read one of them for me."

"'I am the center, not my chip.  My humanity always has
precedence'," she read.

"Yes, it does."  Blair tapped in codes to bring more of his
diagnostic equipment online.
            
She smiled.  "Affirmations in the ceiling tiles?"

"I have to get my sedition in anywhere I can.  Just a few
more tests."  They worked for several minutes and confirmed
that all five senses were now enhanced.

"Amazing, I think this is better than I remember with my old
chip."  She looked around the surgery and smiled at the rest
of Sandburg's staff.

"It is.  There have been significant improvements in the
last eleven years."  He handed the older woman a large hand
mirror.  "I dare you to tell me where that chip is."

She gazed at her reflection.  "It's totally hidden."  Daphne
kissed him.  "You're a genius."

Blair smiled.  "Thanks for the kiss, but I'll still bill
you."

"It's worth every penny."  She hugged him.

                            . . . .


Blair dropped down behind his desk and sipped the herbal tea
Chuck had brought him.  "How many requests do we have?"

"Over six hundred," Fraiser reported.

"Lord," Blair moaned.  "It'll take us weeks to evaluate all
those people."  He sighed.  "But there is nothing else for
it.  Get Professor Huang to take over my ANT 104 class. 
I'll dedicate that time for evaluating patients."

"Yes, Sir," Chuck replied smartly.  The man was seeming much
more confident now that he'd completed his new security
training.  "Jim called while you were in surgery, he's
coming back from DC, and he needs to speak to you ASAP."

Blair promised himself he would always make time for a
select few, and Jim was one of them.  "Okay, squeeze him in
when he arrives."

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


Jim stepped into his partner's office.  The younger man was
updating charts and eating a sandwich.  He looked exhausted. 
"Hi, Chief."

Blair waved at his friend and refused to stop chewing.  He
indicated the chair in front of him.

This was bad.  Sandburg considered meals an event.  He
didn't eat at his desk.  He had coffee or tea at his desk,
but not his meals.  "I see you're eating in your office." 
Blair nodded at this pronouncement.  He pushed his empty
teacup at Jim.

Ellison rose from his chair and filled his friend's cup.  He
smiled to himself as he realized that he knew exactly what
his friend wanted as he added a dab of honey.  He placed the
cup back in front of Blair.  

Without having to ask, Ellison removed a mango from the
chilled fruit bowl and sliced it up.

"I didn't expect you back until tomorrow," Blair said
between bites.

"Brandy is one efficient young lady," Jim reported.  "She
had what we needed fairly quickly."

"And?"  Sandburg prompted with a wave of his sandwich.

Jim sighed in a world-weary fashion.  "Blair, I don't know
how to tell you this, so I'll come right out with it. 
Porter's body is still in the very room he died in."

Blair spit out some of his sandwich and made a tragic
choking sound.  Jim came around behind his friend and
applied the Heimlich maneuver.  Ellison placed his ear
against the smaller man's back and listened for any sign of
obstructions in his airways.  

"Thanks, Jim," Sandburg gurgled.

"That was my fault.  I should have waited until you finished
eating."  Ellison walked back around to where he had been
sitting.

"I shouldn't have broken my own rule about meals and not
eating in my office."  Blair brushed the tears away from
under his eyes.  He reached into his desk and pulled out a
medical scanner.  "I still seem to be in working order," he
reported after running a quick check on himself.

Jim smiled.  "Thank God for that."

Blair returned the scanner to his drawer.  "What did the
military have to say about this?"

"My dad pretty much reacted the way you did.  My mother will
be here tomorrow.  She's calmer, but not by much.  If anyone
can break through this knotted mess, it will be her."

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


General Catherine Ellison glared at the terrified and
unfortunate colonel who sat in front of her.  "Parker, let
me make this plain because obviously you are under the
impression that I have nothing better to do with my time. 
Jerry Porter's body is still in this building.  We want it
removed so his descendants can give the man a decent burial. 
What is so hard to understand about that?"

"General Ellison, it is not that simple.  The area is
contaminated, and the seals cannot be broken," Parker
explained patiently.

She leaned toward the empty uniform that was currently
sucking away all her patience.  "Contaminated by what?"

"Sorry?" Parker asked, sounding uncomfortable.

"What is the source of this contamination?  What could be in
that room that requires that the source of the contamination
be left there?  What could possibly be there that only
affects one room and not any other area?"  She tapped the
desk lightly with her fingertips.

"That's classified," Parker said nervously.

"Really?"  Ellison smiled.  "I have a pretty high clearance,
young man."

The colonel fidgeted.  "I know, General, but I don't."

Catherine started imagining the colonel at the end of the
firing range.  The target end.  She smiled.  "Parker, I'm
going to make your life so much easier.  You don't have to
worry with me any longer.  I'm going over your head."

She would remember Parker as her most cooperative interview.

                            . . . .

Catherine hated the look that Blair was giving her.  If he
had been angry or frustrated, she could have handled that,
but Sandburg was disappointed in her.  He had pinned his
hopes on her coming through for him, and she had failed
spectacularly.  "Blair, I'm sorry.  I went all the way to
the High Command.  They're afraid of the consequences of
opening that room."

"Why?  Jerry was murdered in 2105, that's over 300 years
ago.  What kind of fallout are they expecting?" Sandburg
demanded.

"Radiant 4," Catherine reported.

Sandburg shot out of his chair.  "What?  Radiant 4 wasn't
invented for another eighty years."

"That's the official lie," Catherine corrected.  "Jerry
Porter was the first official victim of the Psi drug.  The
military had been developing it for five years when they
tried it on Jerry."

"Then they had to have known the genetic markers for psi
talents, even back then."  The doctor began to pace.

"According to my sources.  The American, German, and Russian
military have all used psychics since the 1920's.  There is
a database that has been tracking recognized psychics and
their descendants since 1941.  Jerry Porter was on that
list.  Simon and Daryl Banks are his descendants."

"Sonofabitch," Sandburg muttered.  "And this is the
information that they don't want to get out?"

"Yes.  I'm sorry, Blair," Ellison apologized.

"Will your sources testify?" Sandburg inquired hopefully.

After all that had happened to him, Blair still believed in
Justice.  You had to give the man credit.  "No.  I can't
expose them, Blair.  Not for a dead man."

Sandburg sat down.  "Thank you for all you've done,
Catherine."

She didn't like the look on his face or the tone in his
voice.  "What are you planning, Blair?"

Sandburg's face was the essence of innocence.  "I plan a
lovely tea for Jim and Claudia, where you will have a chance
to meet and get to know your future in-laws."

"Besides that," she said impatiently.

"A large party so you can see all the evil influences that
pervade your son's life."  He grinned.  "Starting with me." 
He petted her hand.  "I hope that you will stay with us, or
at the very least allow me to put you up at the Majestic."

"I wouldn't dream of missing the opportunity to sample your
famous hospitality."  Catherine would have bet a year's
salary that Sandburg wouldn't give up on this, and she
wanted to be close when he made his move.


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

Ellison watched his friend sitting at the desk in the
library.  The younger man had been thinking and staring for
some time.  "Chief, you have been looking at that screen for
twenty minutes.  Who are you not calling?"

"Ace."  Sandburg hissed and hit himself on the forehead.

Jim was beside Blair in two strides.  "Okay, why are you
*not* calling Ace."

The doctor glanced up and back down quickly.  "I don't want
to discuss it with you."

"Oh," Jim said in his most injured tone.  "You and Ace all
buddy-buddy now?"

Sandburg began to mutter about polar bears and crazed
Sentinels, before looking up.  "Jim, don't do this."

Ellison crossed his arms and loomed over his friend.  "I
should warn you, Chief, that Ace isn't as reliable as I am. 
I've spoiled you that way."

Sandburg sighed.  "Jim," he said softly.

The RO lieutenant leaned down, getting to within an inch of
his friend's face.  "He'll get bored and leave.  When he
does, don't come running to me."

Blair turned away from the larger man. "Jim, please."

Ellison captured the smaller man's chin.  "Do you think you
can hide from me, Chief?  I *know* you're planning
something, but those plans just don't include me."

Blair grasped the Sentinel's forearm.  "I'm trying to
protect you, Buddy."

Ellison snorted.  "Chief, you haven't a clue on how to be a
thief.  The Pentagon is the most secure building on the
planet.  You really think that you can waltz in and out of
there without me?"

"Jim, you're RO," Blair pleaded.  "If I get caught--"

"Then you'll go to the prison world, or worse, the asteroid
belt."  He shook as the image of Blair, beaten, bloody, and
abused crashed in on him.  He fought off a zone out.  "You
won't survive, and I will be alone."

Sandburg's face was serious.  "Then I won't get caught."

"Not if I'm helping you," the Sentinel said firmly.

"Jim, do you know what would happen to an RO in the asteroid
belt or on a prison world?" Blair asked.  The younger man's
eyes were so full of love for Jim that the ex-Ranger could
feel it.

The problem was Ellison returned those feelings.  As much as
Sandburg wanted to protect him, the Sentinel *needed* to
protect Blair.  The man just didn't understand what danger
his beauty would put him in.  If he were caught, then Jim
needed to go to prison with him, or the younger man would
die.  "What would happen to me is *nothing* compared to what
would happen to a man who looks like you."  

Sandburg grimaced.  "Jim, I'm not a fool.  I would find the
biggest and scariest man or woman there and make them my
love slave."

Ellison cuffed the back of the smaller man's head.  "That's
not funny, Chief."

"Who's joking?" the doctor asked seriously.

Ellison shoved the club chair across the room and sat on
Sandburg's desk.  "Blair, what kind of plans do you have if
it all goes wrong?"

The doctor tapped his desk.  "Worst case?"

Ellison nodded.  "Yeah."

"I have holdings on Orion, which has no extradition with the
Human Sphere.  In fact, I could declare myself Sovereign of
the Orion System, and they could *never* touch me.  The
planetary ownership laws work in my favor."

"If you don't get away, then you can't declare yourself to
be anything."  He looked at his friend seriously, ready to
pounce on this giant hole in his plans.  "Do you have a
ship?"

Sandburg smiled.  "One so fast that nothing the Human Sphere
can put in space can catch me.  Thanks to Robert."

Sonofabitch.  Blair was just going to run.  "So, you're just
going to leave me?  Do you think that I don't feel some
responsibility to Porter?  To Simon?  My God, if that man
had turned in Frederick and Damien, you and I and a whole
lot of other people wouldn't be here.  I owe that man. 
Steve and my Dad owe that man!"  Jim pushed his anger aside. 
It would do him no good against Blair.  He continued in a
calmer voice.  "The whole Ellison clan owes that man.  This
burden doesn't just rest on you."  He patted the other man's
shoulder.  "Now why are you asking Ace and not me?"

Sandburg hesitated.  "Because Ace would be up for this kind
of adventure."

"Then why the hesitation to call him?"  Blair said nothing. 
"Is it because of me?"

"No."  Blair fussed with his hair, a sure sign of inner
turmoil.  

Jim was terribly suspicious that there was something his
friend didn't want him to know.  "What is it, Buddy?"

Blair inspected his shoes.  "I didn't want to encourage
him...  He's in love with me."

Jim smiled.  Ace was totally pitiful in his admiration of
the young doctor.  So much so that Ellison had wanted to
kill him for taking up too much of Sandburg's time that his
teacher could have been dedicating to Jim.  "We all *love*
you, Blair."

The doctor looked him in the eye.  "No, I mean the getting
naked and sweaty, let's buy a house, adopt some children,
and pick out china, kind of love."

"Ace?"  Jim was stunned.  "Sellars wants to marry you?"

"Yeah."  Blair gave him a half-smile.

Ace and Blair!  Not while Jim was breathing.  "I'll kill
him," he vowed.

Sandburg didn't bother to hide the shock on his face. 
"Jim!"

"I'm serious, Chief.  That man is not taking you away." 
~Either from me or Jet,~ he mentally added.

Sandburg almost laughed.  "I don't love him, Jim."

"You better not," Ellison muttered darkly.  He amused
himself with images of punishing Ace for toying with Blair. 
Sellars had a bad habit of loving them and leaving them
sobbing brokenly in the streets.  Though Jim knew the man
too well to even imagine falling under the 'too handsome for
his own good' ex-Ranger's spell.

Blair chuckled.  "I'm glad you don't feel that way about
Jet."

"Jet is more than worthy of you.  She will love and protect
you the way you deserve.  I have no problem with her
dedication to the two of you as a couple.  Ace would have
his fun and be off."  He leaned forward.  "But that's not
the subject now.  Tell me your plans, because whether you
like it or not, I'm in."  He tapped the smaller man's chest.

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


Sandburg checked his equipment again and closed the
backpack.  The doorbell rang.  He peeked out and saw Simon
and Daryl outside, dressed like techno-ninjas.  The tight,
black, optic fiber impregnated fabric clung to their muscles
and made them appear even larger than normal.  With the hood
on and the stealth circuits engaged, they would be invisible
to normal sight.

"We know you're in there, and we know you see us," Simon
warned.

Blair let them in.  "Going to a party, guys?"

"Save it," Daryl said as he walked in.  "We've come to
help."

Sandburg grabbed the elder Banks's arm. "Simon, I know you
didn't bring your son here for this."

"I'm the one who's going to be able to handle Jerry if he's
still there," Daryl explained.

"No one could last this long," Blair said determinedly.

"He was able to kill two healthy men three days after his
body died.  That's enormous power.  You shouldn't take a
chance."  Daryl adjusted his backpack.  

"Radiant 4 is radioactive, it will still be evident in the
body," Simon said.  "That's why they don't want us to
recover it."

"Exactly," Catherine said as she came down the stairs.  She
was also dressed as a techno-ninja.

"Catherine, what are you doing?" Blair demanded.

"This is a family obligation, and I am an Ellison--even if
only by marriage.  Besides, someone needs to look after my
reckless son."  She moved to check Daryl's backpack and
equipment.

"Reckless?  Jim?"  Daryl laughed.

"You haven't seen the number of vehicles he's destroyed,"
Simon said.  He went to the front door and opened it.  Jet,
Maxine, and Frank Sandburg entered.

Sandburg scowled.  "Jet?  Maxine?  Frank, why did you bring
them here?"  He waved his arms frantically about.  

Frank looked shocked.  "They came and picked me up."

Blair stared at his lady and little sister.  "How did you
know?"

Jet kissed the doctor.  "Blair, I know that you'll never
betray me, because you are lousy at hiding things."  

"Where did all of you get these matching outfits?" Sandburg
demanded.

"I provided them," Jim said as he came into the living room. 
"This is not a fly-by-night operation.  I called in a few
favors to get these special suits."  He tossed Blair a suit
of his own.

"I can't risk all of you.  Just knowing what I'm going to do
is bad enough."  This could not be happening.  Everyone he
most worried about was showing up.  His technical backup
personnel were in no danger.  They could leave long before
the military tried to round them up.  But these people
expected to be on the ground with himself, Frank, Mario, and
Ace.

"The more the merrier," Ace said as he joined the others. 
He reached to ruffle Blair's hair but found his wrist caught
by Jet.  "I can take a hint," he whispered, after he
struggled in vain to remove himself from her grip.

"He's off the market," Jet warned.

"Not until I see a ring," Sellars replied, sweetly.

"Ace," Blair interrupted.  "It's not going to happen.  I'm
with Jet.  Forever."   He emphasized for the ex-Ranger's
benefit.  Jim's smug expression nearly made Sandburg kick
his Sentinel.

Sellars frowned.  He sighed after a long gaze at Blair. 
"Who else are we waiting on?"

"Just a couple of people," Sandburg replied.  "The way to
run a good conspiracy is to limit your numbers."  At that
moment the rest of the team arrived at the door.  "At least,
that was my original plan."

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

Joyce Vecchio targeted the Pentagon and fired.  The energy
blast sent a power surge through the building's haphazard
mix of old and new electrical systems.  The grid blew, and
the backups instantly came on line.  This was the fourth
time that she had done this in the last five days.  If
maintenance ever found out, they would have her killed.

Per the High Command's orders, express teams of maintenance
crews descended on the building to repair the damage.

While the teams worked, backup systems failed, returned,
failed again, held steady, and blew out.  All apparently
without rhyme or reason.

"How's our team doing?" Merry Flynn asked.

"They've made it to sub-level Q," Shelly Vinson reported.

"Flood corridors Q-8 and Q-9 with the knockout gas," Joyce
ordered.

"On it," Merry said.

"I'm sending the team the okay," Shelly said.  "The guards
are unconscious, and the robots are disabled."

"Keep an eye on everyone's monitors," Brandy Hunter
suggested.  "Getting into the room is only a part of the
battle.  Surviving what's in there will be the true test."

The four women sat quietly while the team made their way to
Jerry Porter's death chamber.

"They've made it to the doors," Merry reported.  "Mario is
cutting through right now."

Simon and Jim moved the door to the side.  Daryl stepped
through first.

"Switch Daryl's headset to the main viewer," Joyce
suggested.

They could now see a strange chair, obviously meant to be
raised and lowered, with a high back and arm rests. 
Strapped into the chair was the skeleton of a man--tall,
perhaps very powerfully built once according to the rags
that now hung from him and the size of the loops that once
held him in place.  Around the bones, there was a slight
shimmer.

"What's that glow?" Merry asked.

"The body is still radioactive," Brandy reported.  "Nothing
for our people to worry about though."

"Hello, Jerry.  I know you're still here," Daryl announced. 
"My name is Daryl.  I am your child."  A shadow passed in
front of the young man.

"Did you see that?" Shelly asked, anxiously.  

"Matthew will be fine," Merry said, decisively.  "And so
will Frank."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"  The voice was almost Matthew's but the
words were not his.

"We're taking you out of here," Simon answered.  "My name is
Simon.  I am also your child."

"Which child?" Jerry asked.

"We are descended from your daughter, Maria."

"I have no daughter."

"Maria was born seven months, two weeks after you were
killed," Blair said.

"Maria was my mother's name.  That pleases me."  He paused. 
"You are Damien's child."

"Yes.  Because of you, he survived the war and fathered two
children."

"And I am the child of Frederick," Jim added.  "Because of
you, he also survived the war and fathered six children. 
Thank you."

"Is Mars free?" Jerry asked.

"Yes," Simon responded.  "Mars is free."

"That is all I wanted was for Mars to be free, so that my
children would not grow up as virtual slaves to Earth.  I
knew I was dead once I was captured," Porter explained.  "I
held strong so my friends could continue the fight."

"Then rest," Daryl said.  "We are taking you home."

Mario, Franklin, and Catherine moved forward and laid out
the body bag.   Maxine broke the restraints holding the
skeleton to the chair like they were toys.

"Are you my child?" Jerry asked Maxine.

"By marriage.  Simon is my father-in-law.  I married his
stepson."  She paused just as she was about to lift the
body.  "What is this?"  Tate held up a crystal key.

"It is the key to my personal vault at the Martian
Independence Bank," Porter explained.  "No money, just a few
stock certificates, several IOU's, and some personal
papers."

Maxine placed the key in Simon's hands.  "Here."

Banks accepted the memento, obviously awed.  "I'll treasure
it always."

Blair began a prayer as the body of Jerry Porter was placed
in the body bag.  Once it was closed, the team exited the
room quickly.  

"Security is placing two-man teams in all the corridors
without power," Joyce reported.  "Change heading to corridor
Q-5 and proceed north."

The team moved as requested and missed two security sweeps. 
Once at the back doors, Maxine and Jim grabbed the four
guards there.  The two doctor Sandburgs, Frank and Blair,
stepped up and gave them injections.  The guards would
remember nothing, and a tox screen would drive the medical
scanners nuts.

Vecchio fired a second blast into the Pentagon power
systems.  This covered the vertical lift off of the
transport as the team made it into low orbit to dock with
their getaway ship.

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

Simon opened the ancient metal case that stored Jerry's
belongings.  The stock certificates were to companies that,
for the most part, had not survived the economic crash of
2126.  Those that did might not honor the certificates.  No
matter, he wasn't interested in the money.  He was
interested in the man.

Besides the stocks, there were copies of his two sons' birth
certificates, his marriage license, photos of his family,
and a photo of him with Frederick and Damien.  There was a
resemblance between himself and his ancestor, but only a
slight one.  What was more intriguing was the way that Jerry
stood.  His bearing reminding Simon of his father, Walter. 
His smile reminded Simon of his son, Daryl.  

At the bottom of the case was a bundle of letters.  With
trembling hands, Simon opened and read the first one.

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


The Martian Honor Guard flanked Jerry Porter's remains in
three solid ranks.  More than twice the guards a former
governor had received at her funeral.  All over the planet,
flags were flown at half-staff, schools and businesses were
closed, and the citizens reflected on the "quiet man" who
had given his all for their planet and died so horribly--
alone and unknown except for his friends, his shattered
widow, his sons, and the daughter he never knew about.

Over the broadcast channels, Doctor Mario Rosenberg brought
Jerry Porter back to life.  Not only had he supplied
Frederick and Damien, the pilot had also run medical
supplies and food for the Martian rebels.  Almost always on
credit.

Financial experts estimated that the Martian government owed
Jerry Porter's descendants 35 million credits, using simple
interest only.   The receipts were contained in the letters.

They could have pressed claim to the money, a painstaking
process at best.  Instead, Porter's descendants, all one
hundred sixty-two of them, had agreed to the establishment
of the Jerry Coleman Porter Scholarship fund for deserving
students, which would had been endowed with ten million
credits by the government.  Private donations had more than
tripled that amount.  Also, they approved the name of the
new high school at the Bratuus Plains' habitat dome--Jerry
Coleman Porter High School.

The funeral was dignified and well attended by Simon's
extended family, the newly met and the well-loved.

"Are you okay, Dad?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah.  I just have this profound feeling of loss," Simon
tried to explain to his child.  "I know he died so long ago,
but reading his letters, seeing his things, hearing his
voice through Matthew, made him so alive to me."

"I know what you mean," Daryl agreed.

Simon looked around.  His newly met family were a
fascinating bunch.  The psi talents ran strong within them,
but so was the undeniable artistic bent.  Among them were
painters, writers, singers, musicians, actors, and even
fellow cops.

Renee had kept her family together and raised her three
children alone.  They were poor but proud.  Jerry's death
meant they had to sell his ship.  Earth had confiscated most
of that money in "taxes".  She never asked for or accepted
help from Damien and Frederick, blaming them until her death
for the loss of her husband.

It would be two generations before the family was back on
its feet financially, by then the family name was no longer
Porter but Banks, Renee had reverted to her maiden name and,
Martian style, the family took the name of the matriarch.

"He would be proud of us, Dad," Daryl said firmly.  "We
prevailed."

"Yes, we did, Son.  Yes, we did."  He gently squeezed his
son's shoulder.

"Trouble coming our way," Daryl reported.

Simon turned to see three people approaching, who all but
had "military" stamped on their foreheads.  "I wonder what
took them so long."

"They probably had to wait until they had everything in
triplicate," Daryl surmised.

"Captain Banks, may we have a word with you?" the woman in
the lead asked.  She held her military identification toward
him.  Military Intelligence.  That nearly got a laugh out of
Simon.

"What can I do for you, Colonel Huckabee?" he asked.

"We want to know how you recovered Porter's body," Huckabee
proclaimed.  Her tone was steely, her manner brash.  Simon
hated her immediately.  The woman represented the kind of
military mindset that would let them torture a man to death.

"I'm sure you would, but why would I tell you?"  Simon
tapped his foot in anger.  It kept him from entering the
verbal battlefield, shaming his son, and ruining the dignity
of Jerry Porter's long-delayed funeral.

Totally unaware of how much she was irritating Simon,
Huckabee kept talking.  "Because whoever retrieved it, broke
into the Pentagon to do so."

"So you're admitting in public that the military was holding
his body hostage?" Daryl asked.

"It was a great deal more complicated than that, young man,"
she admonished.

"Not to his family," Daryl responded.

"Breaking into the Pentagon is a federal crime," she pointed
out, "with a penalty of not less than five years."

"And what has that got to do with me?  Are you going to tell
me that you consider my ancestor's body stolen property that
you've come to regain?  Because if you are, then you are
categorizing him as a slave."  Simon leaned toward the much
smaller woman.  "I *know* you don't want to do that."  He
let his body language explain to the woman how close she was
to serious and permanent injury.

The colonel blanched.  "Of course not!"

"Then we have nothing to discuss.  My ancestor is receiving
the funeral and burial he deserved.  Too bad your people
didn't allow him the life he deserved."  Banks turned away
from the colonel and watched the long lines moving slowly
past Porter's casket.  "Now go away.  You offend my family
with your presence."

She moved in front of Simon and blocked his view of the
burial site.  "Captain Banks, this is still a serious
crime."

"Yes, it is.  Kidnapping, torture, the introduction of
psychogenic drugs, and the denial of food and water."  The
RO captain felt a burning in his stomach.  Terrible hunger
pains and his mouth so dry that it bled.  The restraints
itched until he was more tortured by that than his empty
stomach.  Gods, why couldn't he die?  Because he would
become an instrument of justice.  Thieves, liars, murders,
they would all feel his wrath.  They would all pay.  


Daryl gasped and swayed.  He turned to look at his father
and was terrified.  "I think you should leave now," the
young man said urgently.  "Porter's here, and your uniforms
are upsetting him."  He looked back toward the flag draped
coffin where a line of mourners were passing and pressing
their palms against the coffin in respect.  A strong line of
psychic energy, colored in the wrath shade of purple,
emanated from the body there and surrounded his father. 
"Go!" Daryl stepped between the officer and the spirit who
occupied his father's body.  "Go now!"

"I have no intention of leaving."  Huckabee pushed at the
college student, pulled back her hand, which was now covered
in ice, and screamed.  Or would have, if her entire body had
not suddenly been covered in ice.

"DO NOT TOUCH MY CHILD!!!!!!!!!!!!"  Simon turned his
glowing eyes onto the two remaining military men from Earth. 
"MURDERERS!!!"  They fled.  Leaving a frozen fellow officer
lying on the ground, and wet footprints.  Banks's eyes
returned to normal.  "I need a medic over here!"

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


Jim stepped off the transport and into heaven.  The place
was almost as lush as Eden.  They were on the banks of a
wide river.  To the south there were snow-capped mountains. 
To the west were lush groves of olive and fruit trees.  To
the east was a fresh water lake that was surrounded by
several large and beautiful houses, each sitting on several
acres of private land.  Claudia put her arm around him.  
"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think it's gorgeous," she responded wistfully.

Jet let out a long whistle as she emerged from the
transport.  "I can't believe it."

"You're holding everybody up," Matthew complained.  The
group in front moved to the side and allowed the rest of the
people to exit from the transport.

"Well, everyone, this is the place," Blair announced. 
"There are currently only ten houses on the entire planet
and you're looking at them.  They are all new, solidly
built, have independent utilities, except reclamation, and
sit on a wedge of land of at least thirty hectares, with the
tip touching the lake."

"Wow," Simon remarked.  "How's the fishing?"

Blair went over to the river, which fed into the lake, and
snagged a large perch with his hands.  It would drape over
the sides of any respectable skillet.  "What do you think?"

"Yes!" Simon said excitedly.

"To settle the Sandburg and Ellison debt with the Banks
family, they have accepted interest in the commercial
potential of this planet in lieu of pursuing a lawsuit
against Mars and Earth," Blair announced, sounding like an
advocate to Jim.

Simon sighed.  "Blair, we didn't stand a chance in those
lawsuits."

"That's not the point, Simon.  It's not the point at all,"
Blair responded.  "The Powers That Be saw that you got
something for your cooperation.  They had to sign papers
that said Earth wouldn't try to pursue a criminal case
against Simon for what happened to Huckabee or try to find
out who broke into the Pentagon.  Mars gets to look big by
funding a scholarship.  Everybody got something, and
everybody lost something."

"Huckabee survived," Matthew complained.  "I felt his power,
Porter was being kind."

"Blair, interest in this planet is worth a whole lot more
than 35 million," Daryl said.

"Exactly," Blair agreed.  "This covers our debt to you."

"We'll take Helaine instead," Daryl said seriously.  "I
think she's worth a hundred of these planets."

Helaine grabbed the young man, kissed him, then hugged him
fiercely.  "I love you."

"That's good to know."  Daryl patted her back.  He gasped. 
"Hey, I felt the baby move."  The young man knelt down and
placed his hands on his mother's belly.  "Boy this is a
feisty one."

Jim stepped over to Blair after taking his turn feeling the
baby kick.  "Which house are we staying in?"

Blair smiled.  "As my shield, you have first choice of the
houses."  He placed his arm around the larger man. 
"Normally, I would buy you your primary home, but since you
already have a home, I'm buying you a vacation and
retirement place.  You and Claudia get first pick, then
Simon and Helaine have second pick, followed by Robert and
Maxine."

"I don't know what to say," Jim admitted shyly.

"There is nothing to say.  Go on and make your choice.  We
have a lot of unpacking to do."

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

Blair drifted across the lake on his hand-built raft. 
Shelly placed two cool drinks in his hands as he floated
past.  "Bless you, my dear."

"Blair, Jet," Matthew called.  "I need you to stay for a
minute."

Sandburg paddled back toward the couple with Jet's help. 
"What can we do for you?"

Matthew and Shelly had been fishing off their dock and
picnicking.  More picnic than fishing was in evidence.  "I
need a witness."  Rosenberg took Shelly's hand in his. 
"Shelly Vinson, will you marry me?"  He reached into his
pocket and extracted a jeweler's box.  Inside was a five-
carat, blue-white diamond, set in platinum, and surrounded
by nine matching one-half carat royal red diamonds.  "This
ring has been in my family for two hundred years, and I want
you to wear it."  He placed the ring on the petite Shelly's
hand.

"Well?" Blair asked the stunned woman.

"I... I--"

"It's a long way home, Shelly," Preston reminded the
technician.  "And a spurned Rosenberg is a force to be
reckoned with."

Shelly laughed.  "How could I turn down the man of my
dreams?"

"Not easily," Jet answered.  "Especially when they come
packing rings like that."

"Yes, Matt.  I'll marry you," Shelly swore.

"This calls for a celebration," Blair declared.  "If I had
champagne I'd open it.  I hope that the fine red I do have
will suffice."  He looked at his lover.  "Home, Jet."  The
couple paddled away.

Arriving at their dock, Jet hopped off and tied off the
raft.  The couple walked toward their house.  Like the rest
of the homes, this one was a replica of a "River Road" house
from Louisiana.  Though none of those original structures
could compare to the luxury and comfort of the homes on
Orion.

Blair stopped Jet on the porch and directed her to the porch
swing.   The perfect place for a talk.  "Jet, I have a
serious question for you."

Jet smiled.  "I'm listening."

Blair reached into his pocket and extracted the ring box
that was there.  He opened it, revealing a fourteen-carat
square-cut amethyst surrounded by twelve perfectly matched
blue-white, round Kenyans on a platinum band.  "Jet Preston,
you have taken my heart and love into custody, and I want
you to guard them fiercely for the rest of our lives.  Will
you marry me?"

"Yes, Blair.  I'll marry you," Jet responded.

Sandburg smiled.  "You've made me so happy."  They kissed. 
Jet rolled him under her, and they continued to kiss and
hold each other as the porch swing rocked gently in the
early afternoon breeze.

"How long has this ring been in your family?" Jet asked as
she admired it.

"I designed it and had it made especially for you.  I know
that amethyst is your favorite stone.  It took me a while to
find one that would complement your eyes."  He kissed her
eyelids.  "I love your eyes."

"The color tends to be passed down from mother to daughter,"
Jet explained.

"Daughter, I like the sound of that.  We need a daughter,"
Blair declared seriously.

"Oh?"

"If Helaine and Simon's child is not a girl, then it will be
up to Robert and me to have a female heir," Blair reported.

"Why is that so important?" Jet asked, confused.

"Only a female can head the Rosenberg Foundation and nether
Naomi, nor Helaine have a daughter."  The Rosenberg
Foundation had been formed on Mars and given a matriarchal
line of succession.

"Surely, you're not worried about money," Jet insisted.

"Oh, no.  That's not the problem," Blair promised.  He had
no intention of Jet thinking he was hung up on money.  "The
Foundation would automatically dissolve without a female
head.  The holdings would be divided up evenly among the
heirs.  Then it would become a fierce legal battle to keep
Eden from becoming a commercial world."

"Wait a minute.  Both you and Robert are dedicated to
keeping that planet off limits," Jet pointed out.

"Yes, we are, but we'd be only two in seventy who have a
vote.  The last count put it at thirty votes our way. 
Thirty-one when Daryl's vote was added."

Jet cuddled Blair.  "Then here's hoping."  She kissed him. 
"I want that place to remain untouched.  Even if you were
nearly eaten by a dragon there."

Blair pouted, knowing he had a receptive audience.  "Jim
swears I would have only been an appetizer."

She nibbled his neck.  "He's wrong.  You're a full meal as
far as I can see."

Blair laughed and surrendered to Jet.

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


Doctor Sandburg was just about to head out to a University
Regent's meeting concerning his departmental budget when
Chuck rang him.  "Sir, you're not going to believe this."
Fraiser announced.

"Believe what?" Blair asked.

"There are four Guardians out here," the receptionist
reported, slightly awed.

Blair paused in his effort to overstuff his backpack.  "I
*know* they don't have an appointment."

"No Sir, they don't, but they are really big," Fraiser
replied nervously.

Sandburg squeezed his backpack closed. "How many
interpreters?" he asked, while trying not to grunt with his
efforts.

"Just one, Sir."

The Sandburg curiosity, which would put any cat to shame,
asserted itself.  "Send them in."

Chuck opened the door, and the four Guardians bounded in. 
They looked around the office and sniffed at Sebastian's
basket, which thankfully the cat was not in.

"Thank you for seeing us without an appointment, Doctor
Sandburg.  My name is Loreli Smith," the interpreter
announced.

Blair shook the older woman's hand.  "It is a pleasure to
meet you, Interpreter Smith.  I must be honest with you.  I
have to be before the Board of Regents fairly soon.  It's
budget time, and it's always like squeezing blood from a
stone."

She smiled, and the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth
gave her warm brown skin a beautiful glow.  "I understand,
Doctor."  She cleared her throat.  "Let me get right to it. 
You have personally taken over the planet Orion V, which was
formerly owned by B S Meta Farms."

Blair never liked to discuss his financial dealings with
strangers.  "I head the landowner's group."

"Doctor Sandburg, I know that you own sixty-five percent of
the planet outright.  You gave the Porter Foundation thirty
percent.  The rest belongs to your friends and family.  That
sounds like you are in charge."

Her information was accurate, he just wondered how she had
come upon it.  "Well, you've certainly done your homework. 
What can I do for you, Interpreter Smith?"  

Smith touched the shoulder of the Guardian closest to her. 
"The Guardians wish to make a home on your world."

"What?"  Blair shot out of his chair.  "You've got to be
kidding me."

"I assure you, Doctor Sandburg, that Guardians make
excellent neighbors," Smith promised.

"They are also highly territorial and have very little
patience for humans.  I intend to bring my children there." 
Blair sat down.

"They have little patience for human interference, Doctor
Sandburg," the interpreter corrected.  "I assure you that
your children would be safe."

The lone female Guardian walked around Blair's desk and
placed one paw on his leg.  Their eyes met.  Sandburg felt a
psychic touch at his mind.  He relaxed into it.  

~Can you understand me?~ she asked.

Blair stroked the short curly fur on the female's head. 
"Yes, you are clear and strong, my dear.  What may I call
you?"

~Evening Mist.~

"I am Beauty of the Plains."  Blair trailed his fingers
around to her ear.  "I was not aware that Guardians could
speak directly mind-to-mind."  Thus the existence of the
interpreters.

~Some of us can.  My babies can.~

With those words, Blair became aware of the two pups she was
carrying and the fact that both were already psychically
aware.  He sighed.   The Guardians had made another leap. 
"I will do all I can for you.  If I fail to find you a safe
place on Orion V, there are other worlds that I can try.  We
must do something for you."

~I feel your strength of heart, and I know that you are pure
of aspiration.  I place my children's future in your capable
hands, Beauty of the Plains.~

Sandburg placed his forehead against Evening Mist's and drew
strength from her faith in him.  He turned to the
interpreter who would know more of the big picture.  "How
many are like Mist and her babies?"

"Hundreds."

Sandburg arched an eyebrow.  "Too many to sneak to Eden?"

The woman cringed.  "I hadn't any idea that they were being
smuggled onto a protected world.  Now it's too late to
remove them.  They are acclimated and settled."

"Don't worry.  I have no intention on insisting that they be
removed, but they weren't part of the original computer
calculations for population balance."  Blair found himself
stroking Mist's soft furry head.  She didn't mind, in fact
she enjoyed the contact with an empath.

"But there are no signs that they are having an adverse
affect.  They kill only what they can eat.  They breed
slowly and carefully.  Their presence as top predators is
the only thing holding back the dragons."

"And, eventually, they will dominate the planet," Blair
added.

Smith looked down at the floor.  "Our numbers say that no
more can be added to the colonies."

"You know, if you had just asked, we would have said yes,"
he insisted.

"When I found out about it, it was too late to do anything,
Doctor Sandburg," she said apologetically.

"Doctor Sandburg, the regents are waiting for you," Chuck
reminded his boss over the comm system.

"On my way," Blair replied.  "Interpreter Smith.  I will
discuss this with the rest of the Board.  I may be majority
owner, but I have to consider the feelings of the other
people, especially the Porter Foundation.  I will recommend
that we set aside a large preserve for the Guardians."  He
touched the woman's hand.  "I gave participation in the
planet's profits to the Jerry Porter Foundation to settle a
debt that my family owed his family.  Anything that affects
those profits might be considered a cheat."

"I understand.  Thank you for your time," she said
sincerely.

"Leave your contact information with Chuck.  I'll let you
know as soon as I know."  Blair left the Guardians and their
interpreter with his receptionist.

What was he going to do now?

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


Simon cleared his throat.  Because Blair had put the
proposal before the board, he had stepped back and let Banks
hold the debate and vote.  "I have the results, and it is
unanimous.  The Guardians can come."

"Yes!" Blair shouted.

"I would like to read Daryl's argument into the permanent
record of this historic decision."  He beamed with pride at
his son.  "In that the holdings on Orion were given in
payment to the descendants of Jerry Porter for a *perceived*
debt between the Porter and Ellison/Sandburg families.  It
is only right that we use that windfall to help the
Guardians.  In ceding the Highlands to the Guardians as
their permanent lands, we help pay the debt that all humans
owe the Guardians, without whom space could have never been
colonized so quickly."   Simon looked around the table.  "I
declare this meeting adjourned."

The people of the table chatted.  Stephen's company would be
providing transportation for the Guardians at cost to their
Foundation.  The businessman was scheduling members of the
Orion group to be on board as representatives.

Mario was lamenting that he had joined the working class. 
His broadcasts about Jerry Porter were so well received that
Steven had flattered him into doing a weekly thirty-minute
broadcast of interviews and commentary.  Then Ellison had
ruined Mario's life by paying him for it.

Blair eased up on the captain.  "Uncle Simon, I understand
that Helaine had an appointment today," he noted casually.

Simon shook his head in pretended annoyance.  "Since you
dragged all the information out of Daryl earlier, I only
need to confirm that yes, she went to the doctor.  Yes, I
went with her.  Yes, everything is fine."

"Do you know the sex of the child?" Blair asked sweetly. 
Simon was instantly suspicious.

"Yes," he answered, wondering where this was going.

"And?" Blair prompted.  The man was actually holding his
breath.

"We are having a daughter," Simon reported.

Blair whooped, kissed his uncle, and whooped again.  "That's
great!"  He ran toward the Rosenbergs who were knotted
around Maxine.  "Rosenbergs, good news.  Helaine and Simon
are having a *daughter*!"

The Rosenbergs began jumping up and down and hugging each
other.

"What's that all about?" Jim asked, sounding as confused as
Simon was.

"They're Rosenbergs," Simon noted.  "They don't need a
reason to act strange."

"True," Jim agreed.

                      -- End Chapter 20 --


The next chapter is Upgrade #21: Night Life.